Madness Made for Me[Raegan]

[Ysmir]

Lifting a brow, he watched as she backed herself away and into a practical corner against the forge, where she rummaged through her pack. She was like a threatened animal, keeping herself distant and poised for a counter attack against a threat that she expected to lunge at her, an eventuality that he had thought they had discussed just simply wasn’t going to happen. It appeared she had chosen to disregard his assurances, and instead would remain defensive, if not outright hostile in her posture. He drummed his fingers against his thigh, before he shook his head, fingers lacing again in front of him as he watched her and the way the light of the forge danced across her skin.

Her question brought a gentle shake to his consciousness, a reminder that he was in the real world, and not lost in one of the landscapes his mind often trapped him in. His eyes focused on her, on the subject of his subconscious, and he offered her a wry twist of his lips, a spirited expression of mischief on his face as he tapped his thumbs together at her question. “That’s an open-ended invitation to trouble, you know,” he offered with a grin. He shrugged a shoulder, now, for an expressive gesture toward the woman as he flexed his fingers. “I just want to get to know you, Raegan. Who you are, what you do, what you like. Is it really so difficult to see that I’m just interested in getting close to some of the people I’m going to be surrounded by for… much longer than I care to think about? Perhaps you have piqued my interest more than others, but the mission remains the same. I just wish to get to know you.”

[Raegan (DELETED 9663)]

I haven’t always been this way, she wanted to say. The words were on the tip of her tongue, and she had to fight them back, to swallow them whole. It would do neither of them any good for her to regale him with the tales of her downfall, the horrors that she had faced nightly. However, even as she struggled to keep the defensive comments at bay, she found herself wanting to let them escape. She didn’t want him to look at her like that any longer, as if she were a frightened mouse in need of comfort. She wanted him to see her for who she had been, the woman that had once been confident and calm, the woman that had been as bright as her hair and as wild as her eyes – but she couldn’t.

So, she kept her attention on the forge, the fire dancing chaotically within her eyes. Careful to not burn her skin, she curled her fingers around the leather hilt of her hammer and began to shape the silver, painted lip secured tight between bright teeth. Again, she didn’t speak for a moment, her inner battle one for the ages. She was afraid if she parted her lips, the truth would come spilling out like turpentine. Even still, she knew she couldn’t remain in silence. He was a voice of reason, of honesty, and she was… a mess. A ******* horrendous, unexplainable mess, and one that she was certain he would run from. “You still bothering me is an invitation for trouble, so I’m starting to think you welcome it,” she muttered as she flipped the hammer and carefully pulled the metal from the fire.

Every move she made was careful, and in complete juxtaposition of who she was. Studying the silver, she continued to shape it, her jaw tight as she braced herself for an invisible blow. She hadn’t meant to snap at him, to insult his personality, but the words had – no. Enough, Raegan. He wasn’t Cristof, and she was no longer a fragile, breakable human. She could stand her own. “I’m pretty sure we’re ******* eternal,” she whispered, voice warming only slightly. “Though, I’m beginning to wonder about your self-preservation skills. You seem to have a knack for tossing yourself into the fire without any concern for your own immortality.” Ignoring the questions about herself, she instead reached across the forge – only to hiss in a sharp breath with a flame rose higher than she had expected and licked across her forearm.

[Ysmir]

Shaking his head, he moved to his feet, watching as she badgered him about his sense of self preservation as she practically roasted herself over her own forge. He sighed, and ran the heel of his palm across his cheek as he gave her a faint chuckle. “You can say what you want about my will to live, girl,” he said with an amused tone, his eyes still alive with that mischief as he moved closer, slowly, to keep himself as far from alarming as possible as he eyed her arm, “but at least I’m not trying to cook myself over an open flame.”

He chuckled, then, as they stood as close to one another as the forge would allow, watching her from across the flames as the air between them trembled from the heat of the forge, causing the vision of her to waver as he shook his head. “Besides, I find that I am perfectly capable of handling most situations I’ve landed myself in since I’ve become what I am. It just takes a little quick thinking with just the lightest touch of action.”

He lifted a brow, and paused, before he lifted his hand and waved it at her arm, that had been burned pretty good, for only having just barely been licked by the flame. “Just… maybe not that action?” He smirked, then, and stepped around the forge, so that he stood at her side, and took a glance at her arm. “That should be well on its way to healed in a few minutes. I wouldn’t be too worried about losing the arm.” He gave her a glance out of the corner of his eye as he smirked.

[Raegan (DELETED 9663)]

“This is nothing,” she replied, even as her fingers loosened their grip on the hammer so she could lift her hand to her arm, nails gently plucking at the charred flesh. It wasn’t bravado that had her speaking those words, nor was it a feeble attempt in trying to impress him. She had endured worse throughout her relationship with Cristof, and then, she had only been human. So, instead of focusing on the marred skin of her arm, she watched as the man moved towards her, his steps careful and considerate – and far, far too quick. Forcing herself to swallow down the bile that rose within her throat, she dropped her attention back to her craft, the flames only bringing to life the wariness in her eyes. Why was it that he made her feel as though she were torn between running and staying?

Even as he stepped far too close for her comfort, she didn’t back away. She remained poised above the forge, the heat barely registering as the amber flames flickered between them. “It wouldn’t be the first time I lost a limb. I’m sure I could handle it.” Now she attempted to inflict some bravado in her tone, though the memory of her severed leg had her inwardly cringing. She’d barely dipped her toes in the world of the undead when a hunter had sought her out while they slept and inflicted a wound that had only reminded her that even though she was immortal, she wasn’t invincible. Shaking her head, she worked her fingers quickly along the silver, her concentration unbroken. It wasn’t until she was satisfied with what she had crafted that she finally took a step back and dropped the chain within the container of chilled water at her side. It only took a few seconds for it to become tempered, and she was soon pulling it from the liquid and wiping a clean cloth across it to dry off the rings.

“This is what I do. Well, one of the things. I also ‘vandalize’ – or, as I like to call it, brighten this city with art.” Her smile was wicked as she handed the chain to him, her fingers only shaking slightly. She hadn’t set out to create him anything, but when she had laid eyes on the final project, she knew it would fit him. It was nearly unbreakable, and well crafted. The silver formed small rings – it was masculine in its shape, and she knew that it would sit well with the dog-tags she often saw him toying with.

[Ysmir]

Watching as she finished her task, he shook his head at her words, his hand lifting to brush back through his dark hair as he gave a gentle sigh. “All the more reason that you need not fear losing a limb, then, no? Seeing as… well, as I look at you now, I do not see any limbs that appear to be missing. Unless I am… overlooking something?” He chuckled, then, and let his fingers indicate the woman’s extremities, which were, in fact intact. Unless, as he said, he was perhaps crazed.

That would hardly be a surprise, after his experiences over the past few days. The things his new mind would do, or make him see. He often lost his touch with reality. He didn’t put it past himself to see her whole and perfect as she was in his mind, rather than the scarred and mangled version of herself that could very well be standing in front of him. It wouldn’t be the first time that his mind had failed to make the distinction between reality and impression.

It took him a moment, upon his self reflection, to realize that she had placed the silver chain she had been working over the fire into his palm. The metal was warm, even after its trip through the cool water in the bucket. It gave the metal a life of its own, and he could swear that he could feel a pulse in the thing, that it moved and danced across his fingers with a mind of its very own. It felt alive, and he could appreciate that.

His eyes moved to hers, and without further ceremony, he hung it around his neck, where it would hang alongside his tags. “I don’t know what to say… so I’ll just say ‘thank you.’ It’s very nice. You’re quite a craftsman… as I’m sure you’re a fine artist. You will have to show me, someday, some of the things you’ve ah… “vandalized.” I might appreciate that just as much.”

[Raegan (DELETED 9663)]

The long she remained in his presence, the more she felt as if she were a moth drawn to the flame. Every word he spoke, every twitch of his fingers, every flicker of his gaze lured her in – and it was dangerous. There was no explanation for why she felt so drawn to him, why he made her feel as though she could be whole again, that she could divulge her secrets and be free of her demons. He was only a man – albeit one with a powerful mind and even more powerful charisma – but a man, nonetheless. Working her fingers through her hair, she dropped her glare to her arm, the skin still raw – but no longer charred.

“No, it grew back after… I want to say a week. It was pure hell. I survived him only to have my leg completely severed while I was sleeping. It was one of my –“ She had already said too much, and she found herself completely closing up, teeth snapping together with a loud crack. It was then she realized the true dangers of remaining at his side. He was pulling her secrets from her, wrapping her within a cocoon that made her feel safe, warm – appreciated. It was a deadly game, and he was winning. Somehow, she had found herself once more within the sights of a apex predator – and like the prey she was, she ran.

Reaching down, she quickly lifted her bag and pulled the strap over her shoulder, eyes almost vacant as she stumbled a step back – and then another. She still had to make her way around him, and so she watched his expression, studied his eyes, refused to let her gaze drop lower as she brushed against the couch and headed for the portal. “I can show you sometime. Not tonight, though. I have… something to do. I’ll catch you later, okay?” She didn’t want to seem completely crazed, nor did she find herself wanting to completely cut him off from her life. It was strange, to want to be around him, even when every instinct within her body was telling her to run.

By the time she made it to the portal, her expression had shifted, the inkling of warmth she had shown him hidden behind a mask of stone. It didn’t take her long to snatch a few blood packs from the counter and shove them within her bag before she stepped through the portal and disappeared from sight.