Asteria: The wind whipped about her form as she walked along the nearly-deserted streets of Harper Rock. It’d been ages since she’d walked somewhere, long enough that she couldn’t remember the last time and felt inclined to take the more…human route this time around. It allowed her to take in the sites, to see what’d changed and what had remained the same since she’d taken up a more hermit-esque lifestyle. From what she could tell, there were a few who looked around like they knew more than they should, skirting buildings and keeping to the light; it wouldn’t surprise her if things had gone south with that, with how close they’d been to figuring things out the last time she’d paid attention.
A light caught her attention, the movement in front of it casting a shadow that slid over her form in the blink of an eye. Lancaster’s. The light was inviting, despite the hesitance she felt toward the establishment and those within it. While it’d been a while since she’d walked anywhere, it’d been even longer since she’d spoken to her sire. In all honesty, she wasn’t certain the reason anymore that had caused her to drift. Perhaps it was due to feeling replaced, or maybe due to how she felt around Pi who was generally in the same vicinity as Elliot.
Throwing caution to the wind, the Greek pushed through the door and let the warmth envelop her, feeling the familiarity seeping into her much like the cold had been only moments before. Her coat was shrugged off, slung over an arm as her emerald orbs scanned for a familiar face, be it her sire’s or otherwise.
((-A T T I R E-))
Lancaster: Music was Elliot’s go to source of relaxation. Whether it was at home or at work, if he was stressed and didn’t know how to make the stress go away, he knew that he could play. And he could sing. And by playing and singing it would help ease the tension, even if it wasn’t a cure. Lancaster’s was as much home to him as the Den, or as the Crypt, or any other homestead that he kept with Pi. Tonight, Pi wasn’t in sight, but Elliot was upon the stage – he had been for a while, and after this one song, he needed to take a break. He needed to attend to other things. He couldn’t run from his stress forever, and life would continue regardless. There were distractions to be found elsewhere. Besides which, he found that he was distracted. He wanted to be a sleepwalker – he wanted to be able to drift from reality for a while and for there to be no consequences. But real life was making itself known, and he could no longer wander around with his head in the clouds.
The music stopped – he thanked the crowd and got a few claps. There weren’t as many people around tonight. He wandered to the back of the stage where he flicked the sound system back to the overhead juke box, on random. As he was exiting the stage, he caught a familiar face over the crowd, over by the door. Asteria. When had he seen Asteria last? He couldn’t remember. He approached, awkward with all his long limbs and his hunched shoulders. He didn’t know whether to hug her or shake her hand, so he just stood with his hands pushed into his back pockets.
“Asteria. It’s been a while,” he said with an arch of the brow – a silent expectation that she would then tell him what she’d been up to.
[ Song and Attire: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deHcHWr18NY ]
Asteria: She should have expected him to be on the stage. In the years that she’d known him (and the months that she’d fairly stalked him while trying to discern what he was), she’d found him on the stage more often than not. While off he could appear standoffish, lanky and lumbering, up there it was natural. He fell into a rhythm that others found themselves subconsciously swaying to, and she was no exception. There she stood, by the door as a few others entered and exited behind her, the cool air sweeping around her legs, but she paid it no mind. Her focus was entirely on Lancaster and the song she’d not heard prior.As the song came to a close, she found herself snapping out of her near-reverent state, her hands clapping along with the rest that separated her from the man of the hour. It was hard to miss him as he moved about, the dark hair atop his head bobbing about as he meandered in her direction. Back to his semi-usual awkward, came a passing thought, taking in his stance and wondering what she should do to offset it. Her usual greeting was more involved, a hug with a kiss on the cheek if not one on each. But he’d paused. There was no hug exchanged, not even a handshake, as he stood, looming over him with a height she still found surprising after all this time.
“Nay, it has,” was all she offered initially, accent thick--thicker than he’d heard last--head nodding toward one of the tables. “Wish to sit and cat, or do you have work of hard to be doing?” Then, after a brief pause, she corrected herself. “Chat. Not cat. It has been a while since I have needed to speak English fluidly. That is the word, oxi?”
Lancaster: Elliot was wary. Here was a man who had been accustomed all his life to having nothing to worry about. His mother was healthy, and he didn’t hear or see his half-brother much to worry about him. Every now and again he still talked to his mother – they exchanged emails. She still thought he was flitting around the world; upset because he cared about the world more than he cared about her. Maybe that was the constant at the back of his mind, the way that he was disappointing his mother.
Backpacking, he’d not stayed anywhere long enough to have anything to worry about. He didn’t get attached to anyone or anything. Everything had changed now, however, and after a very long period of nothing at all, now everything seemed to be coming to the fore. Problems with Pi and a rival business. Problems with Skylar and her new boyfriend. Aliyah, and her own problems with her parents. Dhara, who might be in danger where she is because of what she knows. And now Asteria. Wanting to sit and chat.
“Is everything okay?” he said, removing one hand to gesture to one of the booths which had just freed up. He had a towel in his back pocket; he moved all the empty glasses from the table aside so that he could wipe it down.
Asteria: Leave it to him to think there was an issue. She had distanced herself, it was true, pulling back from everyone and everything and delving deep into the world of the demi-fae and what it had to offer. The only time she saw the light of day was if she’d gone too long without feeding and her ability to blood boost wasn’t able to withstand the amount of pints she needed. But, with their track record of talks, the bulk of their chats had been around times things blew up so she couldn’t write off his outward wary.
No, she followed his lead, footstep after footstep to the booth that had freed up, hands grabbing up the glasses without much ado; she was there, so it made sense she’d be of assistance.
“Nothing is wrong, agaph,” the woman responded with a shrug of her shoulders. “I am just try to not be such a crab and thought that, if I wanted to start speaking with someone, that it would be the first person that came to mind.” A hand brushed her hair back out of habit, having adjusted the glasses to one hand so that she could partake of the subconscious gesture with no issue. “I know it has been some time, but all I want is to net up.”
Lancaster: When things were going good, it was easy to see. Elliot was freer with his body, and not quite so tense. If things were going good, he’d have offered Asteria a hug in greeting. There would have been an easy and broad smile and a welcoming gleam to his eyes. He realised, probably too late, that he wasn’t being himself; he laughed and nodded, taking the glasses from Asteria’s hands and palming them off on one of the passing waitresses, who took them with a smile and no complaint.
“Net up?” he asked. He took a seat in the booth, sliding in against the smooth leather. He made a conscious effort to try to relax. He nodded, pushed the dark hair out of his eyes and hailed the exact same waitress as before, still with the dirty glasses in her hands; Elliot was the boss. He could ask for what he wanted. And his staff were treated well – they were happy to do as he asked. “Can you bring me the usual, Katie?” he asked. She nodded. Elliot turned to Asteria. “Can I get you anything?” Assuming that she also knew that the bar was well stocked with blood from Arbor Vitae.
Asteria: The laugh was more what she was used to. When things weren’t falling apart, Lan could be quite personable; downright funny, even. He could joke with her about being a small dog in someone’s purse with a bark worse than his bite. Hell, he could have joked with her about her terrible choice of an animal when they’d spoke of her shifting last, how she’d thought a hyena would be suitable, but he’d written it off in a comical way. But, despite the laugh, she wasn’t overly convinced that he was being his genial self.
“Nai, um…” Hands pantomimed in the air between them, sliding into the other side of the booth as she struggled with a word she couldn’t remember. “Net…you use it to…get…things… “ The frustration her face was evident, the word ‘catch’ on the tip of her tongue, but escaping her. Shaking her head as she pinched the end of her nose. “Everwhat that word is…”
Thankfully, Katie had come back at Elliot’s behest and it gave her something new to focus on. Had it been alcohol, she may have been a bit more enthusiastic about it, but blood would do just the same. “Surprise me? I’m not pricky.” Only when she wandered away did Asteria lean back a bit more, one leg crossing over the other as she let out a sigh. “So! What is news with you, Elliot? Thing of any going on? When was the last time that we are speaking?”
Lancaster: From what Elliot could remember, Asteria wasn’t one to drink alcohol. Couldn’t, because of her Path. He was well versed in the paths of his childer; remembered them, regardless of how long it had been between visits. Elliot mumbled something to Katie about one of the better bottled from the fresh delivery from Arbor; Katie nodded and wandered off to retrieve the order. Elliot turned back to Asteria, eyes narrowing a little in order to arrange her words so that they made sense. It didn’t take much.
Unable to lie, Elliot answered the questions easily. There was no beating around the bush; no discomfort or evasion. “Everything was going fine, Ast. If you’d come to me a week ago…” he shook his head. If she were observant, she’d see the shiny new ring on Elliot’s finger, where wedding rings usually sit. There had been no wedding – but it was news that he didn’t know how to phrase, so he left it for now. “Some fucktard from down the road is blackmailing Pi. We haven’t sorted that out yet. Skylar’s new boyfriend is in Tytonidae. She’s living with him, and I don’t know how I feel about that. Jaeger’s newest – Aliyah – is struggling, I think,” he said, waving his hands in the air as if all these things were flies that he could just brush away.
“Otherwise nothing much, Ast. What about yourself?”
