Quarter Life Choices (Habren)

[Lilianne]

Tangles from the confusion of travel eased themselves out of the young lady’s tresses as she tugged a comb from the damp roots to the ends. Sunset lingered on the walls of the hotel suite and through the mist left by her shower, giving a comforting glow to a day of strange encounters and foreign lands. The water was softer than the air in Harper Rock and everything was dry compared to either of the places she had come to call home.
Once dry, as sleep seemed elusive, the girl pulled an oversized knit sweater over jeans and boots with an easy heel, let her waist length hair cloak her shoulders, and took a final glance at her map. It would be no more than a ten minute walk to a familiar face, but it seemed that nervousness had taken up permanent residence within her and she couldn’t seem to quell the tremor.
Pink colored her lips when she finally stopped her nervous nibbling and studied the numbers on the building. The leaf of paper trembled in her hand as a blonde just an inch or so taller than she opened the front door and slipped inside without a thought to glance back. The door had swung wide enough for the girl to follow, so she did, though she was resolute on finding the right door before she well and truly made up her mind to make herself known. It seemed, however, that the track was already set to play.
The woman was as recognizable by energy as she was by looks and once Lilianne realized that she had been seen, she knew there would be no changing her mind. She steadied herself under the other’s knowing gaze and approached with an uneasy grin, despite being comforted by the woman’s presence.
“I don’t know if you remember me, Habren… but may I have a moment?”

[Habren Ashe]

The dark-haired witch looked up from her seat behind the counter of her small shop at the sound of the door, fully expecting a customer as she dusted off her hands and set aside the dried herbs she had been bagging and organizing. The sweet scents of lavender, rose, and mint mingled in the warm air. Oddities graced every wall and corner, while the more occult items sat in orderly rows throughout the cozy place - herbs, stones, wands, and several other bits and pieces that a person might need for his or her altar. Habren had worked to make it as organized as it was calm and inviting; despite the nature of the items she stocked and the strange ones she collected, the shop would have a welcoming atmosphere to any who stumbled in.

Or those who, like the young woman now appeared, quite purposely made their way there. A smile curved Habren's lips as she stood and made her way over to the girl, taking both her hands in her own. "Lilianne!" she exclaimed quietly, kissing both of the girl's cheeks in a warm welcome. "I am so pleased you have found your way here..." She did not need to ask why the girl was there; the invitation to visit had been quite clear the night they met - months ago, now. The night Mircea and Habren had traveled to Seattle, to explore a yet-uncharted (for them) corner of the New World had been the night the girl now standing before her had brought forth the mightiest of storms with naught but her sheer will. It was a rare thing for her to stumble across a person of such talents, and Habren was no one to waste opportunities. And so, after helping her to quell the raging, roiling heavens - a knowledge she seemed to lack - the invitation had been extended. But Habren had not necessarily expected it to be taken up, though she had hoped, and had spent a good deal of time fretting over what an untrained, gifted girl might do on her own. Much to Mircea's amusement at times.

"Come in, come in! I was unsure you would come, but I am pleased you have. Mircea will be happy to hear you have arrived safely." She murmured all of this as she ushered the girl into the store, closing the door behind them with no more than a thought about it, and led her behind the counter where a large table sat, complete with several chairs.

"Now then, my dear. I doubt I need to ask what brings you here... but tell me anyway." The witch smiled again, clearly thrilled for the company, and in the form of one who seemed quite a lot like herself, no less. Such a thought filled her with a surprising amount of comfort and joy, that this long-worried-over girl was now here, in the flesh, ready - Habren hoped - to learn all she could teach her.

[Lilianne]

She knew she hadn’t once given her name to the woman, but Lilianne found no surprise in Habren’s gifts and evident ability to pick up information where she needed it. They were, after all, what made the girl trust in this strange voyage to Canada…
As she was kissed in welcome and swept inside, she managed only to glance around the shop. Curiosity seemed overwhelming in this new place, but it would do no good to fasten her attention on the items displayed. She had grave matters to address in the most peaceful way possible.
Blue eyes that looked powered in color, almost dull, hosted a curious thought for a moment at the name Habren mentioned, then fell from the witch’s face to the patterns etched by divine hand on the table. The questions that begged to be asked would remain until it was sensible to ask them, but discretion was essential. She had draped her bag over the chair’s back and since she had nothing to hold onto, she twisted her crested ring around her finger absently. The grin that had developed through the warm greeting remained as the other seemed genuinely thrilled that she had taken up the invitation.
“Thank you, Habren… and no,” the grin turned a little warmer, “there is no mystery in my coming here. I lack proficiency with my talents and that has proven itself to be considerably dangerous for those surrounding me. I know it has been longer than one would consider polite to accept an invitation, but I had to come and beg your willingness.”
Now, as arrogant as she had been known to be, the girl had no trouble admitting to being wrong or naive. Thinking that she could manage without a guiding hand would be both… and it was her and her warmth, or them and their cage.

[Habren Ashe]

Habren watched the girl closely as she tried to rein in her curious gaze, all smiles that carefully concealed the pointed teeth that were more commonplace to her than not, lest she was in the company of mortals. But this girl was no mere mortal, as she had already proven. Still, it was prudent to await the right time to reveal herself for what she was, if that time did ever come. Lilianne would be here for a time, she knew already, and it was quite possible she would never know the full truth, or even want to know it, and that was fine with Habren.

"Oh, my dear... do not worry about that! The invitation was open, and had no expiration... Please, sit." She smiled again as she continued. "I have been looking forward to this since the eve we met. How long have you been here in Harper Rock?" As she spoke, the witch flitted about the small space, putting the kettle on a small range and setting a tray for tea. It was a lucky thing, she had long ago decided, that she could eat and drink as normal, and take some pleasure in such things, even if she did and always had preferred the taste of blood as a vampire. Allurists had such a difficult time as it was, so she supposed this was simply Nox's way of giving a little back. Finally pleased all was ready, with an assortment of loose teas (for Habren could never quite wrap her head around papery bags, though she flirted with the silk ones at times) and all the accoutrements that went with them, she carried the heavily-laden tray to the carved table and set it gently down before taking a seat herself.

"Now then, dear Lilianne... my willingness remains as strong as it was before and I am most pleased to do what I can to help you. But tell me... why now? I do not mean to pry too much and correct me if I am wrong, but it does seem to me that your decision to come was made hastily, though certainly not lightly..." As she asked her questions, attempting to gain a feel for where the girl might need to begin, what sort of direction she was seeking, a quiet, gentle message was forming in her head to her beloved. As soon as she fell silent for the girl's reply, it was sent:

Mircea, my love... we have a visitor...

[Lilianne]

“How long?” She murmured, distracted by the familiar setting of loose leaf teas. It had been sorely missed since she left home and every variation of tea seemed to either be canned, bottled, or packaged in mass in paper bags. It was the one adjustment that she hadn’t gotten used to, so the unspoken offer of something close to home helped her settle in for what had the potential to be a very long discussion. With care, she reached over and lifted a teacup from its tray- happy to fiddle with that instead of her ring for the moment, as it was an object of comfort.
“I only just arrived today. I did have every intention of settling in for a day or two, but I found myself a touch anxious.” A long digit tilted the jar that held leaves that most closely resembled her normal evening brew, but the scent was different. Somehow, even the difference in scent was comforting.
“Thank you for the tea… they all smell lovely. What would you recommend?”

Those same misty eyes rose to meet Habren’s face and she realized how closely she was being watched. Her habit of acting hastily had been a running theme in her few years and always something noted by those in observation of her. It was true, that much she knew for a fact, and had caused a number of issues in the execution of tasks and what… incidents had ultimately changed her life. The girl draped her fingers over top the teacup and took a stalling breath, indecision riding out her brain waves. Even though she had known for some time that an explanation would be called for, she wasn’t sure where to begin.

“Wrong, no… not hardly. Though is within my character, to be hasty… Please be confident that this decision was made with great weight. You have already witnessed some of what my carelessness can cause and though I am hesitant to speak on them, there have been other incidents that caused others to meet grave endings. When we met, I was being sent to my father. I had only known of him for a week approximately, but he has since become a person of importance to me.”

She paused in contemplation of how to go on and both maintain her vows and tell the full truth. It took a breath longer than it should have… which, in any world, might give away the fact that she was choosing her words. She knew that being vague wouldn’t hold and eventually the complete tale would be told, but discretion would do to get herself across the bridge.

“My family… well, we are part of a religious organization. Those in charge have discovered what I am capable of and have grown concerned that I might become a liability.” A ghost of a smile curved her lips in a moment of pause before she finally poured them both water for tea and continued, “They have safe havens where I could, in theory, go live and learn to not excite my gifts, but that path seems wretched… so we came to an agreement.” She grew tense, knowing that if this was not presented carefully, it might have a tone of guilt persuasion at the foot of it. Guilt seemed to be both a dangerous and an abhorrently disrespectful pathway, but her care to present fact without emotion made even the easy curl of steam from their tea stiffen up. She cleared her throat and again took to her nervous fiddling.

“The agreement is that if I learn control, they will not cage me… and as I am not a great fan of confinement, I am seeking your offered assistance. Even just from our brief encounters, I trust you…” Her fingers folded over themselves on her lap and took grip of her sweater. She was certain that the guilt trip had crept in, but it was more that she felt exposed and unusually giving with information. With dampened lips, she glanced down at the tea cup and finished her thought.
“You see, trust is an angel who has shown me more malice than reliability. We are not great friends, he and I.”

[Habren Ashe]

As Habren listened, she moved a teacup of her own from the tray and set it before her, toying with the delicate china as she listened carefully to all the girl had to say - and all she didn't say, as well - all the while. She turned the cup around with a gentle touch, small hands twirling it here and there as she mulled the speech, her thoughts all but running wild.

As a general rule, Habren didn't much care for organized religions; they bred a degree of hatred and bigotry and extremism to which little else could really compare. For that reason alone, they were dangerous, and then that was combined with her own experiences on such matters. The Welsh witch had seen her share of zealot-like Christians who had, at their best, been hateful and suspicious and at their worst, sought to run her and her people out of Llanddona more than once, if not execute them. Never mind the fact that they were just as much Welsh as they were the once-nomadic tribe. Never mind that the local people had long since accepted their presence, but these newcomers and visitors often thought themselves charged with persecuting those who were different and believed different things.

Never mind that they had been good people who worked to help those in need whenever possible. And wasn't that how she had met Mircea in the first place? Need.

She pursed her lips slightly as Lilianne poured some water for the two of them and, with a soft smile that hid her innermost memories, she reached for the small jar of black tea, scented with a spicy blend that was all her own making. "This is my favorite... but the green rose is also quite nice," she finally said, before turning her attention back to the other matters at hand.

"Mmm. I see trust as more of a double-edged sword. Something that can easily bite back if given to the wrong person. And for that reason alone, trust should always be earned, in varying degrees and never all at once. These people... do they know where you are?" She asked the question innocently enough, as curious as she was worried that these strangers might harm the girl if they learned the truth, or hurt her or Mircea for the same. "I can show you how to cast charms that will protect you, but in the meantime, my dear, where are you staying? Someplace safe? These charms... they will work wherever that place is, and follow you around like a soft blanket... but it is important either way that you do not tell them much." She didn't need to add that she could already sense ill intent on the part of these religious elders, though she couldn't say quite how much was laced with her own bias. In either case, it wouldn't do for them to know too much, or for them to have much to do with the girl, either, given the way they had handled her so far.

"And then I can show you control... so much more, too. Control does not mean to stifle... but to embrace, and grow, and learn to use your abilities when you are most in need..."

[Lilianne]

Earned trust… carefully carved trust that wasn’t demanded, but invited and at the same time, cautioned… that was something new to the girl. Whether it had been those who raised her, her own father, or the men of religion in her life, trust had been begged as something to give in full with investment at the point of origin. The equation for trust and loyalty had not come with time and careful consideration for the risks… until the witch, a stranger who had been met on a train and put in harm’s way, placed it on the table.
Lilianne stared at her as her mind processed that information at speeds that overwhelmed even her most tranquil of places. She knew that she wouldn’t be immediately trusted in full, but that meant that she could perceive character and rely on her intuition instead of fear and the stifling of doubt to come to her own conclusions. She wasn’t being used as one would use a chess piece.

Her hold on her sweater went slack and she found herself simply… still. She sat as if she’d been turned to stone, though if the noise in her head could be heard, it would give her away entirely. Somewhere, she knew being careful with her words was the smart course of action, but it made her feel oddly reckless and untrustworthy. She knew that Habren could see right through her, that she had thoughts on the matter, that they had weight… so the mask and costume could be presumed a bigger insult than they were a useless precaution. Just the truth, Lilianne. It is only the truth and that is why you are here instead of with them.
Almost as soon as she made the decision and let her body relax into the comforts of her chair, it seemed to breathe for her… as if her tension had caused the chair stress and doubt in its ability to be a good resting spot. As silly as she knew it was, her fingers ran over the chair’s surface in silent thanks before she took up her tea cup and tasted the blend.
“They have not been told… though that means very little. I imagine, based on the promise of death I made when they initially came to collect me, that they will eventually try to find me.” It was true, and she had threatened the entire council knowing that she could deliver, but there was more shame in her tone than any ego driven arrogance as she spoke of it.
“They are a very secretive group of men, you see, and I am the last in line with the gift… so they have their agenda and I have reservations,” She paused and ran the smooth surface of her thumb nail over her bottom lip, having rested her elbow on the table, “because… because I do not know that these men truly know what they believe in.”
A light head shake brushed away the thoughts that she was sure were trivial at best, and she went back to fidgeting with her ring.
“I have taken out a lease on a hotel room for now… it seems safe and the owner seems to be reliable.” She smiled warmly at the mention of charms and control, “and the lessons and protection would be most appreciated… I will do all that I am able to keep the beasts at bay as well…”

[Mircea]

The Watchtower was a strange sort of building. More of a complex of buildings, really, such had been its growth since the Grigori had reclaimed it for their own. He and Habren had haunted the old stones centuries earlier when it was a far more modern construction and had been drawn back towards it when it came time to seeking somewhere for the bloodline to settle into. It had begun life just as the name suggested: As a watchtower on the edges of the city. Humans had placed it there to protect them from vagrants and bandits, vampires had commandeered it to plot against the fae that dwelled just beyond and sought the destruction of their kind in turn. There were caverns just to the east that they often nested in and that the vampires often raided to try in vain to reduce their numbers. When the vampires were taken from the living world and technology had marched endlessly on in the name of progress, the Watchtower had emptied and become dormant and neglected until the return of the Grigori had brought life to the tower once more. Since then it had grown; old barrack dwellings had become apartments for the blood to use, fortifications had been modernised and added and the grounds around it had sprung up a number of businesses run by those of the blood... Habren included.

It was there that she was to be found that night, while the male half of the companionship awaited in the residence above, toying with the idea of adding a forge below and, as he looked out the window of their apartment, trying to determine if such a thing was possible and, if so, quite where he could set to returning to his tinkering ways.

All of that was, of course, until he heard that they had a visitor. A visitor? Independent as they seemed to be, it wasn't often that the Grigori came together in any great numbers and he couldn't help but think that, had it been one of their own, Habren simply would have sent word with a name or image attached. No, it seemed that this would be a different sort of visitor and curiosity drew him from the window and his ponderings and down the winding stairs, his fingers skimming over rough hewn stone, each one filled with memories new and old alike.

He followed the sounds of conversation to find the two women, one known and one as yet unmet it seemed. "I am not interrupting, I hope," he rumbled as he rounded the counter only to lean back against the staff-side of it with a small, easy half-smile.

[Habren Ashe]

Habren took a bracing sip of the comforting black brew and cradled her cup between delicate-looking fingers for a long moment as the girl spoke once more. She seemed almost stunned at the thought of an earned trust and that alone had the witch intrigued. Just what sorts of men had she been dealing with, had she dealt with throughout her young years? Her brows drew together as Lilianne at last spoke, spilling what secrets she would before getting down to the more general details.

"You will need to do much, to keep the beasts back," Habren said with a slow smile, her tone playful and in good cheer, though there was an unmistakeable ring of truth there in the words. She'd dealt with her share of beasts, both human and mythical, throughout the centuries. She had little doubt it would be the same for Lilianne. And where the more mythical ones were concerned, Habren would have to do the brunt of that work, somehow without the girl knowing. She had little doubt the girl could be trusted, but the witch was unwilling to breach the gentle equilibrium they had achieved, one which could only be maintained by preserving the secrecy of their kind.

Just as she was about to ask Lilianne what sorts of charms and protective spells she knew, a familiar presence filled the room. She knew he was there before he ever needed speak, and a fresh, soft smile crossed her lips as she rose to greet him.

"You never interrupt, my love," she murmured, leaning up to brush a kiss to his lips before a small hand found its way around his own and she tugged him gently forward. "Mircea, this is Lilianne... the girl from the train, do you remember? Lilianne, this is my husband, Mircea."

[Lilianne]

Dread, as familiar as it had been, was the feeling she least favored- and it filled her to the brim when the witch confirmed that the beasts, as they were gently dubbed, would take a lot of work. She wondered briefly if it would have been best to have put them down when she first had the inclination… but even the sheltered and diminished knew that there was never a true end to a cult.
“Then I will need to maintain diligent practice… their need to secure me is confusing considering I am, presumably, less powerful than the holy race.”
As a deeper and anything but expected voice filled the space behind her, the brunette shifted to glance over her shoulder at the source. He had been a silent presence on the train, but the both of them stuck in her memory with vivid detail. She was certain that it was because of their timeless appearance at the time, but upon meeting them again, she began to question her own reasoning. There was something more than magic to them and the timelessness seemed to radiate from within. She wondered if, in desperation for comfort, she was calling on the beauty presented in the holy script… that of the angels in the face of strangers who, in all reality, should have made her uneasy. If she were a fearful girl there would have perhaps been some sort of struggle in confidence- both in herself and in the company she chose to keep- but Lilianne had a tendency to go to war with her fears and beat them bloody. In most cases, it was like walking into a lion’s den with a blindfold on as instincts guided her more than experience could. Lucky as she had been, she had no idea that her methods would have to change.
When it came to manners, she was full of them from two separate worlds. It would be natural, as she was brought up, to curtsy- but more modern to flail or wave as a way of greeting. As it was, she felt uncomfortable with both options and settled with rising from her seat and the offer of a respectful inclination of the head.
“Wonderful to meet you, Mircea… you both have very curious names,” She took a moment to set her teacup down before she returned her attention to the couple. Even in her little community on a tiny island, she had been exposed by way of literature or common minds to the most obscure collection of names, but Habren and Mircea were both uncommon enough to make her nosy. It may have been an abrasive step into making acquaintances, but as she was no good at small talk and pleasantries and so many things already had a place on the table, so flowed the river. “How did you come by them?”