Path of the Vampire forum

[OOC: Backdated to April 25, 2014]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

‹Jesse Fforde› Renee had said something on the Crownet about there being Mooncalves in Bullwood. Mooncalves in a public place can never be a good thing. It's downright bad, actually, and a severe breach of the Masquerade. Curious, and eager to find out what's going on - experiment gone bad? The army, letting something loose? Conspiracy? - I head to Bullwood. I park the bike outside one of the shops and remove the helmet. From here, everything seems fine. With a sigh, I secure the helmet to the handlebar of the bike, shove my hands into my pockets, and begin an aimless wander. I am armed, of course, though it might not look like it to the innocent passer-by. I have learned how to properly conceal my weapons. And out here, I have to make sure that I do not engage any stray Mooncalves with powers. I keep it in mind as I cross the road, and begin peering down alleyways and side streets.

‹Phoenix› The shop merchant hands over a bag of blood. It looks like it's seen better days, the exterior grimy and smeared with something that could have been motor oil, but it's blood nonetheless. And really, who am I to judge something by its looks? I don't need to look down to know that I look like I just rolled out of a car wreck. What scraps of my leather pants aren't slicked with my blood are drowned in someone else's - where the tears have let blood seep inside, I can feel it congealing between the leather and my skin. Whatever.

With about as much regard for propriety as I have for my appearance, I down that grimy old blood bag. At least it's AB+; just my type. Finished, I toss the empty bag over the counter and stalk out, high on the undead equivalent of adrenaline. I want more carnage, more violence... but I'm not so far gone that I believe my appearance will go unnoticed. The shadows fold around me like an old friend as I stalk balk towards the place from which I've come - Glasshill Hall. I shuffle to a stop after only a few steps, staring across the street at the wandering man. I know him. I wish I don't, but I do.

I let the shadows fall away; I know this part of town well enough to be confident that I won't be seen by prying eyes - the shadows were for Gullsborough and Wickbridge. "Jesse," I hiss as I make my way across the deserted asphalt, a smile on my lips and a knife in hand, not that I remember drawing it.

‹Jesse Fforde› My wandering leads me to no stray Mooncalves. I can't see anything that doesn't belong in the alleys or corners, or even under the bright lights. A frown creases my brow - I wonder what it was that Renee saw. Was she imagining things? Or maybe some asstard dragged a single beast out into the open? Whatever the case, it's hardly an infestation, which is a relief. Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. A flash of red that wasn't there before. I turn toward the rogue splash of colour - aha. Phoenix. Covered in blood and looking like she's stepped out of a Quentin Tarantino movie. Perhaps not as conspicuous as a Mooncalf, but still conspicuous. There's that violent gleam to her eye that I know so well, and a knife glinting in her hand. What now, I wonder? I arch a brow and cannot stop the dancing of a smirk at the corners of my lips. I keep the distance between us as she closes in. "Come to stab my eyes out again, Nix?"

‹Phoenix› Stab his eyes out again? Now why would I do that? "No... Once is enough." At least I mean that, but that doesn't stop me from reaching out with my mind to touch his. With a smile on my lips, I recall the sight of him on hands and knees, blood streaming from his eyes. It's not the visuals that I'm interested in, though. It's the words; his voice begging me to kill him - to finish what I'd started. That smile still on my lips, I package up those memories into a neat little box and I push them into his consciousness. Really, it's more of an assault than a push. "I've got a very vivid memory." Maybe the recollection of his own cowardice would wipe the stupid smirk off his lips.

‹Jesse Fforde› I have no idea what she's doing as that cold smile spreads over her lips. It only takes a few moments, however, before my mind is barraged with a whole bunch of images - memories that aren't my own of a night I'd truly before to forget. Well, isn't that just dandy? What supreme power thought it was a good idea to let Phoenix have these kinds of abilities? I'd like to go and throttle them. I flinch from the onslaught, and when the images finally dissipate, I meet Phoenix's eye. My own stare would be equally as steely as hers, I know it. "Right, that," I say. I suppose that's one thing I regret most - I don't like to appear weak to anyone, and I went ahead and threw myself at the feet of the worst person possible. The one who's going to take advantage of it from now until the end of eternity. I shrug. "That was kind of pathetic," I admit. "You can keep that one, so you know it's a way I will never act again."

‹Phoenix› Right, false bravado served everyone so well. I wish I could have stopped my eyes rolling, but at this point in my sad little life, it's an involuntary reaction to ********. Whatever this new found pep is, he'll likely lose it soon enough and end up once again rolling in his own misery, begging everyone else to end him without actually having the balls to do the deed himself. Typical. No point in wagging my dick around, though; I know mine's bigger. "Look," I can feel the mocking, sneering, sadistic glee wash out of me, replaced by stone cold determination, "I really don't know what your issue is. Frankly, I don't care. You've fucked up so goddamn many times, whether or not you want to admit it. Until you pull your head out of your *** - very dexterous of you, by the way - I'm not going to tolerate you around my line. I've heard you're snooping around, trying to make nice with my childer - don't. You chose to leave the line. Leave the line alone."

‹Jesse Fforde› I scoff. Snooping around? Trying to make nice? "I don't have an issue. I have none. Issues are moot. If you're talking about Pyper - she contacted me first. She was the one snooping - and I don't actually care," I say with another shrug. Maybe I should have cared, but having met Pyper, I realise she means no harm. I'm not sure she ever could. "You look, Phoenix. I know you think I've got some hidden agenda but I really don't. I'm not going to stop hanging out with people from 'your line' just because you tell me to. How petty can you get?" I ask with an arched brow.

‹Phoenix› A single brow arches as I watch him, though I do slip the knife back into its sheath. The spring wind claws at my hair, whipping it into my face. Incessantly stuffing it behind my ears would look silly, so I let the stupid red mess flip in every which way, squinting at Jesse as best I can through the strands. It's really, really hard to stay angry with hair flying in your mouth... "I don't think you have a hidden agenda. If you did, I wouldn't really care all that much. It's not pettiness, Jesse, it's you accepting the consequences of your actions. I don't want you around my childer. I don't want you around your own childer, what with how terrible of a sire you are, but I'm not going to tell them that. They're adults; they can make their own choices." Finally, the wind subsides enough for me to reach back and twist it into a knot at the nape of my neck. "I'm done arguing with you, so the sooner we both start accepting a few things, the better. Nobody made you sever your line - you did that all on your own. I won't forgive you it. I don't think you deserve forgiveness or much of anything, really. If you want it, you can work for it, but after your last little stunt, I'm done going out of my way to help you, only to have it thrown back in my face. It's not pettiness. It's mistrust"

‹Jesse Fforde› I smile. It's not a sadistic smile. It's not even an angry one. "I'm not a bad side, Phoenix. I think I'm actually quite a good one. I'm not going to ask for your help - Velveteen and Micah have helped me above and beyond what I ever expected of them. I never asked for it, but they did it anyway. With all due respect, Phoenix, I'm not going to stay away from people I like. If they so happen to be your childer, so be it. I'm not going to stop my own childer from mingling with you, even though I might want to advise them against it. Because truthfully, I don't trust you either," I say, still smiling, hands still shoved into my pockets.

‹Phoenix› My left eye twitches while I listen, ungrateful little **** that he is. The shaking of pebbles across the paved ground is subtle at first, easily attributed to the blowing wind scattering dust and debris. But Jesse keeps talking and the lights start to flicker, and that's when I realize just how ******* angry I am with him. I should have killed him. I didn't, but I should have. I'm not going to stand there and yell at him - not yet. I have a better idea. Earlier, I'd presented the memories of his pleading ineptitude. Now, I close my eyes and gather up every single memory I have of ever having helped him. From the initial siring when I'd taken him to the sewers and taught him how to keep himself safe, to showing him everything I knew about rituals. Feeding and fighting and everything in between I gather up and shape into the tip of a spear before sending it flying straight at him. The sharp, cutting tip of that lance I support with every single time I could recall being hurt by one of his derisive, sneering looks or the cruel, hateful things he'd said. By the way he'd abandoned me, when I found out about the severance, and how deep that had actually cut. All those memories backed by all that hurt race through the air between us. I don't even wait for him to react before hissing.

"You mean the way you never asked me, but I did anyway? And then got treated like **** for it. The way you took advantage of everything I ever gave you and couldn't muster up an ounce of loyalty or respect in return?"

‹Jesse Fforde› I stand there and take it. By the end of the barrage of memories I am shaking my head, teeth grinding, muscles twitching in my jaw. I don't like it when people invade my mind. I don't like it one bit. But I stand there and I let the memories come. And at the end, I have just one more memory. One of Phoenix crying, before she took my sight from me. Does she want me to take pity on her? It's not going to happen. "No, Phoenix," I say, calmly. This time, it's not going to work. She's not going to be able to push my buttons. I am happy for the first time in a long time and she's not going to take that from me. "Thing is, I am loyal to Tytonidae. You asked me to betray them. I wouldn't. That's what it comes down to. You were about to rip my home out from under my feet and I didn't let you. You made it clear, afterwards, that you wanted nothing more to do with me. I made that easy for you. And now you want to take revenge?" I stop. I cant my head to the side. "It's a thing that happened, Phoenix. I can't take it back. You have to let it go, move on," I say.

‹Phoenix› "No, I never asked you to betray them. I asked you if you would betray me, and you couldn't give me an straight answer. You decided to be an *** about it and this is where we ended up. All because you couldn't answer a simple question. Did I overreact? Yes, I did. But you, ultimately, escalated it by severing and creating your ******** little bloodline instead of trying to talk to me. What I did was easily undone. What you did is not." I twist my lips into the semblance of a smile; I sound bored or worn down to the point I don't care. I'm not sure which. "I'm not taking revenge. I'm keeping the people I care about away from you. You can either choose to respect my wish that you stay away from the bloodline that you opted out of, or you can choose not to. You could take it back if you wanted to - you don't, which is fine, but that is your choice. I'm not going to let it go and that's my choice."

‹Jesse Fforde› A give a sigh. I'm not sure why I bother trying to converse with Phoenix. "Haven't we had this conversation before?" I cross my arms over my chest and roll my head on my shoulders. "I'm not going to take it back. Not if you keep acting like a paranoid *****. What do you think I'm going to do, Phoenix? Try to turn them all against you? What possible harm am I doing to you by talking to those you turn? My progeny are my own. They belong to my line. They are not Altaire. They do not belong to you. Jesus, they don't really belong to me. They're not objects, they're people," I say. "They can do what the **** they want. And I'm going to do what the **** I want. Okay?"

‹Phoenix› I snort - so ladylike. Childish as it is, I mirror his movements, if only to show him how positively ridiculous he looks. Sure, he actually has some musculature, but it still looks silly. The more he talks, the more amused I get. Being around him is like playing emotional pinball and it's really gotten tiresome. "I don't think you could turn them against me, Jesse." It's stated flatly, matter of fact. "It's not paranoia, it's principle. You severed - stay away from the people you rejected, because it wasn't just me: you turned your back on the entire bloodline and nobody, especially Pyper, needs your kind of bad influence." There, I said it. Pyper is far too unstable to learn anything from him. "People aren't possessions, Jesse. People have feelings, and it's about damn time you learned that. You go right ahead and do whatever it is you want - you're going to do that anyway - but that means I'm going to do whatever it is I want. And if that means I have to drain you, strip you, drag your body out of the city and set you on fire, so be it. That's not ideal, though... Far too messy. If you don't want to start making amends, that's on you. As far as I'm concerned, you've owed me a bucket full of apologies for months."

‹Jesse Fforde› "You live in a fantasy world, Phoenix. It's all so black and white for you. I didn't give you an answer. You booted me. I told them all, at the time, that they could come to me if they needed help. To me, in here," I say, fist slamming my chest, "I only turned my back on you, only because you turned your back on me. I know people have feelings. It seems the only ones that matter or seem to have any importance to you, though, are yours. You are the only one I seem to have hurt. You have all these absurd assumptions about me. You keep giving the impression that I'm dead to you. That you don't give a ****. So why do you want me to apologise so bad, huh? You are the only one still making a big deal out of this..."

‹Phoenix› Fantasy world? Hm... This time, I do look down; nope, still not fantasy-wear, just the same old jacket and torn leather pants. When he pounds his chest, I just snicker under my breath and let him go on without interruption. When he stops, I frown. I probably was the only one that ever made a deal out of it in the first place, so that really doesn't phase me much. The rest of what he said, though... I tilt my head a few degrees like some kind of curious pigeon eyeing a breadcrumb. "I admit I overreacted. I should have come talk to you, in person, but I didn't - for that I am sorry. That doesn't change that you should have come talk to me, in person, and you didn't. Two wrongs don't make a right." My tongue flicks out over my lip thoughtfully and I flinch. The dried demi-fae blood is sour to the taste "Who else should be hurt? Who else was hurt? You? Then you should have come talk to me before being rash. You don't give a **** that I don't give a ****. You don't care what I think - never did or if you did, you never bothered to ask before going about your own ***-backward assumptions. So why the **** does why I want what I want even matter?"

‹Jesse Fforde› "We have already had this conversation, haven't we? Yes, I did agree that talking would have helped. This, I have already admitted to. Neither of us came to talk to each other when we should have. It's done," I shake my head. "I might have been hurt. I'm not anymore. Why? I've moved on. I've got bigger fish to worry about, now," I admit. "I'm not asking you to tell me your reasons. I'm asking you to truly think about it yourself. Does it really matter, in the grand scheme of things? Aren't you happy, or something? I hear you're getting married. Are you angry because you want to **** me, before you tie the knot for good? Is that a thing?" I ask. I honestly cannot understand why she should be holding on so tightly to something that irritates her so much.

‹Phoenix› "I don't know!" I snap. I've had this conversation with him in my mind so many times, and it usually ends... poorly. I can't tell at this point if one of those happened in reality or not. Though if we have had the conversation, he probably should know why it pisses me off. "Yes, I'm getting married. Yes, I'm happy about that. Yes, it matters because Axel and I can't bind. We could have shared a lineage, at least. Now we can't, because of what you did. I could try to explain it to you more in-depth, but you wouldn't understand." I pause, lips pressing into a thin line, "And no, I don't want to **** you!" With that said, I ball my fingers into a fist and aim it for his nose. He deserves it, though in hindsight, a slap may have been more appropriate.

‹Jesse Fforde› I am ready for her retaliation. A sly, backhanded comment like the one I have just made is bound to cause a reaction. I've had a lifetime of smart-assery to prepare, and dodging a single punch is small fish. I duck and dance backwards, out of her reach. I laugh, because I can't help it. I gasp a breath and force myself to stop. "Oh god, it's not really funny I know but... ******* hell, Phoenix, you need to loosen up a little. "It's not my fault you can't bind - that you've already tied that knot eternally with Legion. Maybe this should teach you not to opt in to such an eternal promise with only a few months' dating, right? Now, I can't say I'm an expert - not sure I've ever been IN love," I lie. "I'm not sure how you can't still share a lineage. Velveteen and Micah share a lineage. They aren't related by blood. You're creating problems for yourself that don't exist."

‹Phoenix› I glare at him while stepping forward to once more close the distance between us, unimpressed with the childish behavior. The last thing I need is salt lacing the a still gaping wound that is Legion. I'm faster than Jesse, and so when I'm once again just shy of arms' reach, I lunge. My hand snaps out with all the force I can muster over such a short distance and manage to connect my palm with his jaw. Hopefully it's a hard enough blow to rattle his smug little teeth. "Micah and Vel are bound, you twit. It's not your fault we can't bind, but it is your fault that Axel's direct bloodline connection to me was broken," I hiss. I want so hard to be mad, but I can't. More than anything, it hurts. "Like I said... You wouldn't understand. If you did, you'd have waited for Felicity."

‹Jesse Fforde› The slap connects, and it feels exactly like it should. Like a slap. Maybe I shouldn't laugh, but again, I can't help it. "Oh get off my case, Phoenix! Felicity is fine. Sex is fun, and I like to play if the opportunity is given to me. Felicity is a big girl. She's angry with me. That's to be expected," I stop. My need to explain myself and my relationship with Felicity dissipates. I don't need to justify myself to Phoenix. I don't need to tell her that I do understand, more than she knows. I lift a finger to my lip. There's blood in the corner of it. I lick it away. "What are we really talking about here? You and Axel got together after everything. It's not as if I did it on purpose, Nix, as much as you might believe. I couldn't see the future. I didn't put anything between you and Axel. Imagine he's someone from some other bloodline. This is such a non-issue, and you really need to untwist your panties," I say, slowly, as if speaking to a child who is finding it difficult to understand.

‹Phoenix› Even though he's managed to jab at arguably the biggest button I have, I raise my hands in surrender. Not that I'd ever actually surrender, but the Felicity thing isn't my business. "What you and Felicity do is up to you two. Sex is fantastic. I'm not on your case, just leave Le- him the **** out of this." I hate that it feels like I'm choking on a name. I hate that he doesn't understand - probably can't understand. "It is an issue, and Axel is part of my bloodline - or he should be. The bond is just gone. Your motivations don't matter - it needs to be reversed. You can't understand why it's important. Can't. You can't understand."

‹Jesse Fforde› "No, I can't understand. Not that particular motivation, no - love is love, regardless of a ******* bloodline. You should feel a bond with him regardless, is what I understand," I say. I have no motivation to try to help Phoenix, not with the way she's acting. Even still - "If you know something I don't about how to reverse these things, then tell me. As far as I know, though, it can't be reversed. Your little tirade is not going to help anything," I say. "What are you trying to achieve here, Nix?"

‹Phoenix› I sigh, and this time when my arms fold over my chest, it's for protection. Against what, I'm not sure - maybe honesty. Maybe being attacked for opening up. "I'm scared. I love Axel. He's good to me - better than L-Legion, but we can't bind... I'm scared of what will happen if he comes back. I have an actual damn bond with Legion. I have a bloodline bond with Legion. I have neither of those with Axel and I hate it, because I don't want to hurt him - ever." I'm not cold, but I shiver anyway and turn to stare off at the sky. I don't think I'll magically stop loving Axel if Legion wanders back into my life, but I want to be prepared to face that eventuality head on, if it happens. "I don't know what tirade you're talking about. If you want to reverse it, do the ritual in reverse?" It was as good a suggestion as any.

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

‹Jesse Fforde› "I don't think it works that way, Phoenix. The bond you have with Axel is only what you want to make it. So what if Legion comes back? It's not as if he's got some magical ability to make you fall on your knees in front of him. Are you scared that it might actually happen?" I ask. "The way I see it, if you're confident in your own feelings and emotions or what the **** ever, you've nothing to be scared of. Seriously. What is there to be scared of?" I ask. I'm genuinely curious.

‹Phoenix› "If you're asking, you don't understand eternal bonds. Legion and I literally gravitated towards each other... It's an emotional or physical force, or something. I don't understand it. We were stronger when we were together, because of the bond and because of the blood. I share neither with Axel and the void of something I know should be there is... obvious. I love him, but there's a piece missing. One that used to be there, and I'm scared that missing piece will... I don't know. If he came back, I just don't know." I shrug. Someday, if he was ever bound, he'd understand. Until then, I figure it's like talking to a wall.

‹Jesse Fforde› I give a nod. "Right," I say. Somehow this has turned into a conversation about Phoenix's emotional issues, and her love life, rather than about anything that I may have done. "Nix - if you love him, then I think that's the only bond that matters. If Legion comes back and you all of a sudden don't love Axel anymore, then you can't really, right? Thing is - doesn't matter if Axel were still Altaire, you would still be bound to Legion. For eternity. Maybe that's the thing you should try to reverse," I say. It's obvious she's more upset now than angry. I'm trying to offer her words of reason, not make her angry. Though I suppose I've probably done the latter anyway.

‹Phoenix› My head cocks to the side. It's not that I'm not listening, it's that I've been over all this in my head countless times. More importantly, though, he's somehow given me an idea - forget the bond with Legion. I'm not going to argue that, because while he's right, it's something I'm not willing to give up. Not that I even know how. But maybe if... "What if I killed you again and... you know. Re-turned you." This seems perfectly logical, of course. If he were to be turned into a bag of Jesse full of PhePhe blood, it's about the same, right? "And then diddle the fae some."

‹Jesse Fforde› "You just relish the idea of killing me, don't you?" I ask. I arch a brow. "I'm not going to beg for it this time. That's over, that's done. I'm not ever going to be human again. That's not going to work. You can't re-turn someone, that's ridiculous," I say. "You kill me, I'll turn into a pile of ash. And nothing will have changed," I tell her. I'm not laughing at her. It's actually kind of sweet, the extent to which she would go to secure this bond with Axel. In the end, though, I'm kind of worried for Axel if it doesn't happen. But at the same time, I know Axel's a big boy, and he'll survive.

‹Phoenix› I really can't help looking at him like he's an idiot. "I didn't mean like... dead killing you. Just draining you and then like... getting a really big needle and refluffing you with the proper blood." You know, like a cushion. "Maybe you'll stop being such a tit, too." Despite the look I'd given him moments earlier, I kind of smile, though it feels nervous and twitchy.

‹Jesse Fforde› I consider it. I nod. I narrow my eyes, as if we're having a really serious conversation. "I'm a dick, not a tit. There's a very large different," I correct her; my arms have crossed back over my chest. The grin I give is trademark; the kind she probably saw back at True Love, the first night that we met. I am more myself now than I have been for months. "It really would be preferable to take it straight from the source," I say, with an arched brow.

‹Phoenix› My lips press into a thoughtful line, nodding along with his assessment. "So you're opposed to a large hypodermic needle full of my blood injected directly into your dick... self. Dick-self." Very serious business. "I see. You'd rather what? Chew on my neck like some kind of creep?" Maybe he isn't all bad... I level him with a stare as the sole of one of my worn work boots grinds into the pavement.

‹Jesse Fforde› "When you put it that way, yes," I say. "You want to re-ignite a bond. That kind of thing can't be done with needle now, can it? That's kind of clinical and cold," I tell her, reasonably. I level her with an echo of her own stare. "Thing is, Nix. You very recently stabbed my eyes out. I can assume you didn't kill me then simply because it was what I wanted. How do I know this isn't ploy on your behalf to kill me now? Now that I'm not begging for it?" I ask.

‹Phoenix› "Yes. Neck chewing definitely seems like a better way to re-ignite a bond..." Especially considering how clinical and cold his turning had been. I scrunch up my nose - that's another thing that I kind of regret. I was single at the time, damn it, but I shake that off. He's asked a reasonable question, and it deserves a reasonable answer. After a bit of thought, I shrug. "I'm not nearly as creative as I am paranoid. I didn't kill you because you called it cowardice when I... killed myself. I asked Axel to and he refused, so I did it myself. I meant it when I said I wanted to die - you didn't, else you'd have taken the knife and finished the job yourself." I let the unasked question hang there a moment; let him figure out for himself which of the two is more cowardly. When I continue, my voice is matter of fact, without a shred of its standard arrogance. "If I wanted to kill you, right here, right now, do you really think you could stop me? You could run, if you got the chance, but that really wouldn't stop me from trying and likely succeeding. I've slaughtered badder things than you tonight."

‹Jesse Fforde› "You said it yourself. It would be messy. But if you lulled me into a false sense of security and then killed me? On your own terms? Less messy," I say. Of course I'm wary. I know that she could kill me a thousand times over. But she has admitted to her paranoia. That's a first. "No," I say. "Because you are wrong, Phoenix. You were wrong. You said I didn't give a **** about others, but I realised, then and there, that I do. And that there are people who would be hurt, if I were to just kill myself. There are people I'd leave behind. So I changed my mind," I admit. "So I suppose I should thank you for being such a *****," I add, with that same old trademark grin.

‹Phoenix› Dead serious, I reply. "You're welcome. I didn't think anyone would care when I offed myself, and I was mostly right..." I trail off; it's not a pleasant memory, so I don't want to dwell on it. The same with most of the rest of what he said - I note it and file it away for later, not wanting to come across as snide or condescending. Things were going relatively well. I just wave a hand down at my bloodstained clothes - I probably smell like a slaughterhouse. "Do I look like I care if I make a mess? Lulling you into a false sense of security sounds like effort and time and... nope. I'd rather just decapitate you and leave it at that." I grin - one of those ambiguous grins that could mean anything, but I hope he realizes I'm joking. "Besides, if I kill you, I'd miss out on all the neck sucking and pre-marital sexcapades we could have."

‹Jesse Fforde› Bravado, then. That's what it was, when she threatened me earlier. I know that she's joking - I can tell. She's given me that grin too many times when she's serious for me to know that the seriousness now is not a part of the picture. "I knew it. You do just want to **** me, don't you?" I say, and I'm sure there's that gleam to my eye that should tip her off that I, too, am joking.

‹Phoenix› "That is exactly it. My loins ache for your dick-self." I nod awkwardly, since at one point, it was true. Though I think I'd have been a bit more eloquent about it back then; maybe I'd have added in some bedroom eyes or at least something a far cry more attractive than blood spattered Warrior Princess. "I knew all those glares and short, curt little notes hid your lust for me." My brows wiggle before giving him my best, most serious come-hither look before pausing. I frown a bit. Lowering my voice, I turn away and mutter something just loud enough for him to hear. "I missed you."

‹Jesse Fforde› I laugh. Almost enough to drown out those last words - and it feels kind of weird to hear them. There was an inkling, yes, that maybe she was so pissed off with me because she actually cared. That's a thing, right? You don't like it when people you care about hurt you, and fury is a coping mechanism. I wasn't going to give much credence to the idea, until now. I clear my throat. "Uhuh, sure. You got me. I just wanted to throw you up against the wall and make you scream," I say. If she'd actually shown any interest at the time, maybe that would have been the outcome. I'm not the sort of man to say no to a woman who wants him. It's not going to work that way now, however. Because, unbeknownst to Phoenix, I understand more than she knows. And I'm not going to betray the love that I feel.

‹Phoenix› "Well come here, then." Opening my arms, I try not to laugh and fail, though just a bit of a chuckle slips through. Yes, the context of the request was in jest, but there's something to be said for physical contact that isn't violent. Nobody really seems to get that I'm a huge ******* sap - it really doesn't take much to get me to relent when I'm angry. But I figured a hug wouldn't go amiss, since I wasn't planning on stabbing him anytime soon. Would he trust me enough?

‹Jesse Fforde› I'm not sure how serious Phoenix is. I'm not sure how serious she thinks I am. Curiosity drives me, however; curiosity, and the desire to let sleeping dogs lie. Phoenix had to die to find her perspective. All I had to do was wish for it until someone helped me figure out how to make the heavy weight of depression disappear. There are plenty of problems that I already have in my life, and I don't need Phoenix to be another one. I don't want her hunting me down and trying to skewer me just because I have a desire to talk to her progeny. I drop my arms from their crossed position - it's probably not hard to tell that I'm still a little wary, but I hold my arms open in welcome, anyway.

‹Phoenix› Watching Jesse mull it over is stressful. I fear rejection to the point of phobia, and even something so little as the obvious hesitation nearly makes me flinch. Somehow, I manage not to. With his arms open, I slip over and gently wrap my own around him. "I'm sorry. You're a dick." I mumble the words with my face buried against his shoulder, tightening my hold just a bit. I feel like apologizing for the blood would be polite, but I don't. It's mostly dried and flaky by now, anyway.

‹Jesse Fforde› I almost expect the sharp stab of a knife in my back; maybe something to skewer me beneath the ribs, directed upward at my heart. I feel neither, however - just a hug. I don't hug much. Rarely, if ever. Awkwardly, my arms fall down over Phoenix's shoulders. Fingers splayed, I rub a small circle over at the centre of her back. "Yes. A dick, not a tit. Thank you for remembering. Dick's are fare more tempestuous, as well as slightly stupid sometimes. Tits are just stupid," I explain.

‹Phoenix› Sure, he's awkward, but he's not trying to stab me and there's some rubbing, so that's promising. I think. "Dicks are tempestuous and stupid," I correct him, voice still muffled by his shoulder. "At least tits are more fun to play with." A step closer and a second later, I frown, leaning back just enough to stare up into those pretty blue eyes. "You're supposed to say you're sorry. That's how this works."

‹Jesse Fforde› I sigh. It's not the first time tonight that she's asked me to apologise. I'm just really not too sure what it is she wants me to apologise for. "I'm not going to say sorry without knowing what for. I've already apologised once for lack of communication. I should hope that also extended to the consequences of that lack of communication," I say. I'm looking down at her, arms still wrapped around her shoulders. I half wonder whether she's completely forgotten about the conversation we already had, months ago.

‹Phoenix› I shake my head, nose scrunching up thoughtfully. He has apologized for a few things, but the severance of his bloodline wasn't one of them as far as she could remember. "Only extends to the consequences if you explicitly spell it out," which really should have been obvious. "You also didn't say you missed me." I probably should have just taken that as him not actually missing me and left it alone, but I'm not. I always have to pick and prod and poke at everything. "Unless you're content staying a dick forever..."

‹Jesse Fforde› I laugh, even as I drop my arms and take a step backward, shoving my hands, yet again, into my pockets. "You can't just demand these things, Nix. That's not how it works," I stop. I take a deep breath. More talking. I hate talking. "I severed my bloodline because I felt like an outcast. Because you said I was dead to you. To say sorry for that would mean disregarding everything that came from it; I was welcomed by Tytonidae. I was taken under Velveteen and Micah's wings. In the past month, they have helped me... hell, ever since it happened they have helped me more than I can ever make up for. Now, I'm not saying, had it all gone differently that you wouldn't have helped in the same way. But, as things stand, I can't apologise for something that I'm not sorry for. You want an apology? I apologise that I can't be properly remorseful, that I'm not on my knees begging you to help me reverse the disenthrallment. Not for that reason. I'm willing to try, if it's going to help you now, with Axel. Because obviously I don't put as much stock in that bond as you do," I say, hoping that I come across as properly genuine.

‹Phoenix› Here things were going well. I sigh, folding my arms over my chest as I listen, resuming my new standard look of absolute boredom, though I do keep a brow cocked in semblance of interest. It's not what I want to hear, but then I'm not entirely sure what I want to hear anymore. Certainly not begging. Though I wonder if it ever occurred to him how close he was to not making it into Tytonidae... The precious faction he loved so much had been a hairs breadth from rejecting him, and Vel hadn't been impressed. I bite my tongue. He doesn't need to know who convinced Vel to let him in after Tameka was accepted. "Taken in, maybe, but you're not Andras... are you?" I ask, the words perfectly neutral even though I already know the answer. "And if it doesn't work, what then?"

‹Jesse Fforde› "That's my point. I don't give a **** if I'm not Andras. That's probably what makes it more... meaningful. They didn't help me because they were obligated to. Because of some bloodline connection. Because the words? The names? They don't matter. It's how act toward people. It's the things you do, not the umbrella you're sitting under, that matter," I explain. If she's trying to make me feel like Velveteen and Micah don't actually care, it's not going to work. Not this time. I shrug, hold my hands out in verbal surrender. "I don't know what then. What if we try everything and absolutely nothing works?"

‹Phoenix› I know just how many people Vel and Micah have adopted into their line - the fact that Jesse wasn't speaks for itself as far as I'm concerned, but I don't push. Let him have his delusions. He does have a point in the mini rant, but it's really not the one he's trying to make. My lips press together as I think it over. What if nothing works... "We'll cross that bridge when we get there and hope it doesn't happen." I suppose that's reasonable. "What do you want out of this?"

‹Jesse Fforde› I have to laugh again. "I wasn't aware this was a business deal," I say, rubbing the tip of my thumb over my lips. I shake my head as I watch Phoenix, as I really look at her, as if trying to see right through her - to the core of her. I don't know whether to be angry with her, or whether to pity her. "I don't want anything. Your the one constantly wanting things."

‹Phoenix› I frown at him, trying not to look hurt by the accusation, but I probably fail; that wasn't what I meant at all. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my jacket and shrug, dropping my eyes to better aim at small pebbles on the ground. "I didn't mean it as a business deal or anything like that... I meant in general. What do you expect...?"

‹Jesse Fforde› "What do you mean, what do I expect?" I ask. If she's talking about the plan to drain me, and re-feed me, it's something that she suggested not even half an hour ago. I haven't had the chance to think about it, to know what to expect. "I don't have any expectations. I haven't had time to gain any."

‹Phoenix› "If we're going to work on bonding and stuff, what do you expect from me." It's really not that difficult of a concept to grasp - we've been pretty mutually abhorrent. Avoiding that would be nice... I scrunch up my nose and then look at him. "I expect you to not pull stupid ****. If you have a problem, come to me about it."

‹Jesse Fforde› "Oh, right," I say. I can't help but keep smiling. I nod. "Sure, I can probably manage that. If we're going to play that game, I suppose what I would hope to expect from you is that you listen to me, if I come to you with a problem. Rather than... you know, stab my eyes out," I say, still grinning.

‹Phoenix› "You didn't come to me with a problem then. I came to you with a problem you went to Micah about," I state simply, returning the smirk with one of my own. "And that's why I stabbed your pretty eyes out. Well. One of them. Blindness probably suited you. All adorably helpless and flailing - you'd have been helpless against a spitty tissue."

‹Jesse Fforde› "You don't have to be so pedantic about it," I say with mock seriousness. I could have pointed out that I didn't go to Micah about anything. He just happened to come across me throwing a tantrum because the rituals weren't working. The conclusion we came to, together, was that there was something I was missing. "Aah. I'll have to tell Axel that's what you're into - adorably helpless and flailing," I smirk.

‹Phoenix› "Just helpless enough so that he can be attacked with spit." I frown a bit, face scrunching at the thought of an 'adorably helpless and flailing' Axel. And then I laugh. I don't think I've ever seen him flail. "Though he does like it when I get him a bit spitty... When did you want to do the draining?" I don't really want to do it now - I want to give him time to ponder it over, so he can't claim I rushed him into it.

‹Jesse Fforde› I smirk. I find it amusing that she would go from a conversation about spit, and bring it back around to her former proposition. For a few long seconds I am silent; there's a real temptation to tell her now, to get it over and done with. But at the same time, there's a nagging feeling in my gut. That instinctual urge to make sure, first. To think about it. I know I can be carelessly spontaneous when I put my mind to it, but at other times.... "Let me think about it," I say. Giving it a date seems obscurely weird. "I'll let you know," I say.

‹Phoenix› Little did he know exactly how often spit and blood mingle in my strange little world. Patience never really had been my forte, but I'm surprisingly content to wait - he can pick the date and time when he's ready. Knowing that it will happen takes the edge off a lot of the ill will I harbor for Jesse, and for now, that's good enough. "Let me know when, then. When you do, bring along whoever performed the ritual in the first place. Any preference as to where we do it?" I have a few thoughts of my own, but I don't share. The abandoned remains of Jesse's apartment above True Love would have been one choices. The slaughterhouse was the other.

‹Jesse Fforde› I give a shrug. That's what I should do, too, and what I will do. I will talk to Velveteen and Micah, as I do about most things, these days. Micah is the one who did the ritual, and so Micah will need to know my plans. Why he's needed, I have no idea, but I figure Phoenix is just trying to cover all the bases. The shrug concerns the place. "Wherever," I say. Again, I'm not sure that place matters. Extraneous details that have nothing to do with the act itself.

‹Phoenix› 'Wherever,' he says, like that tells me something - like it's a complete sentence with some kind of actual location other than… anywhere. Normally, the lack of commitment would have probably annoyed me. It still kind of annoys me now, but I have better things to do. "Whatever," I agree, as serious as I can manage, and then shrug at him. "Wherever." Two can play the vague game.

‹Jesse Fforde› I arch a brow at her, the twitch of a smile at the edge of my lips. I'm not accustomed to overly long conversations. Silence is a thing that I fall back into, more often than not. It's easier. Whatever, she says, in response to my wherever. That's fine. "I'm sure we can figure it out when the time comes," I say, slowly.

‹Phoenix› My lips twist into a grin and I nod, amused, yet satisfied now that he's uttered more than a single word. "Text me when you're ready, then. I think I have some more fae to stab before the night's over..." Before turning away, the grin turns to something a bit more sincere. I'm still not sure if I actually like Jesse - I thought I did, then I thought I didn't, and now I just don't know how I feel about him, but if he's willing to make amends in his own strangely absent way, I'm not going to ***** or complain.

‹Jesse Fforde› I nod and give a salute. I will be sure to text her, when I am ready. I remember why I was here to begin with - the mooncalf that Renee apparently saw. I suppose that's what I'll keep doing, wandering around searching for something I don't think is going to be here. And then... and then, I'll probably go home to Grey.