✖α ℳonstrous ɑrrangement✖ [O/F]

[mythological irony]

Whatever the maid said to him as he walked up the stairs, Alistair never heard. At that moment, he was entirely focused on Tris, and nothing else registered with him. Of course, he wouldn't have cared what the maid said either way. He'd already come to the conclusion that she was irredeemably pathetic -- telling him to clean up the mess, what a joke!

Now, he sat outside Tris's room, feeling sick. He could hear strange noises that he couldn't quite identify, and he found it quite troubling. Whatever it was, it didn't sound nice, and admist the noises, he thought he heard Tris cry out, but he couldn't be positive.

There was silence after that, and he felt himself relax slightly. After a moment, he heard something hit the door, and he turned his head slightly, so that he could see the wood frame out of the corner of his eye. He didn't know what had been thrown, but he was rather surprised that Tris hadn't done something more...werewolf-y. He'd half expected her to start growling at him from the other side of the door, but then again, he supposed she must have turned back to her original form -- or was the wolf form her original form? He didn't know.

What he did know was that Tris was angry and he couldn't blame her. He faced the wall again.

"I know this doesn't really make a difference," he said. "But what I said...I didn't mean it, and I know it was a s**t thing to say. I--" He stopped, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him. He was thankful that he was already on the ground or he might have fallen over.

He drew his knees up to his chest, hating the way he was feeling. It was entirely unlike him, and not really understanding what he was feeling and why he was feeling it made him upset. He didn't like things being out of his control.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You can...hit me or something. If you want."




ooc: I think your post is fine. 3nodding



The Lady Reaper

[The Lady Reaper]

Ʈɍɨʂʂɨɑɳɑ ӝ Ɉɵєɫɫɑ ӝ Ͼɧɑɳɗɫєɍ
—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—

☪ Will you run with me? ☪

Tris closed her eyes, hating the fact she felt sympathy for the guy after what had just happened.It was like some joke gone horribly wrong.Whch was still kind of funny in a twisted way.Their kinds were suppose to hate each other, and they'd just broadcasted it to everyone I. The mansion.Now here he was apologizing, which she was sure surprised.Twice in one day, it had to be a record.And she was feeling sorry for him.

Sitting up, she sighed slightly and dug through her bag, suddenly recognizing the scent.Shed had the same problem herself when she got too worked up over something.Pulling our a small box, and a journal and pen, she padded over to the door, her steps rather quiet.She hesitated a moment before opening door and giving him an emotionless look.

Grabbing the pillow she had thrown, she sat down just inside the door and opened the box reveal a bunch of candied ginger.She then proceeded to open the journal and start writing, pushing the box towards him with her free hand.A few second later, she showed him the page in the book:

Cant talk.Anxiety.Ginger helps.

Tris set the book down and sat quietly, starring at the floor.As before, she had no real wish to hurt him, even though he'd done so to her.She the. Spotted the corner of what seemed to be a page sticking out and held back a wince.So much for keeping An a secret for awhile longer.She just hoped Alistair didn't pull it out.It was bad enough he'd seen the bear.

☪ And dance beneath the pale moonlight? ☪

☪ Company: Alistair, sort of ☪ Mood: Insulted, hurt ☪ Location: Her room

mythological irony

Aoi-Devvi

Introverted Piano

((Lol, thanks))

[mythological irony]

Tris didn't immediately respond to him, so he closed his eyes, figuring that she was just going to ignore him -- and, again, he could not blame her -- but Alistair would wait her out. Eventually, she would have to leave the room, right? Though he supposed that she could climb out a window or something.

A moment later, however, the door opened. Alistair's attention snapped to the side, and he looked up at Tris from his position on the floor. Her expression was completely blank, which he figured meant she was pretty upset with him.

She sat down on a pillow in the doorway and once she was level with him, he realized that her hands weren't empty. She was holding a small box, a journal, and a pen. She opened the box, and Alistair caught the scent of ginger. He turned slightly so that he was facing Tris more directly, instead of having to have his head turned to look at her.

She was writing something in the journal and after a moment she pushed the box of ginger in his direction and then showed him what she'd written down. Alistair frowned at the words, unsure of exactly what she wanted him to do. His eyes flicked to her, but she was no longer looking at him. Her attention was on the floor. He noticed something odd in her expression, and when he followed her gaze, he realized she wasn't actually looking at the floor, but the journal that she'd written in. There was something sticking out between the pages, which he figured was why Tris's expression was funny.

He closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. Despite his curiosity, he wasn't going to even try and question her, not with what had already happened. He'd have to wait until a more opportune time. He looked at the box of ginger again.

"So...what exactly do you want me to do?" he asked her.




ooc: No problem! C:



The Lady Reaper

[The Lady Reaper]

Ʈɍɨʂʂɨɑɳɑ ӝ Ɉɵєɫɫɑ ӝ Ͼɧɑɳɗɫєɍ
—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—

☪ Will you run with me? ☪

Tris tore her gaze from the little slip of paper, though it was a tad hard.She still refused to look him in the eyes, seeing his face once she'd opened the door had been enough,He truly was sorry, which made it all the more awkward.

Then as she thought about it, she held back a snort of amusement.That made in the office downstairs would probably have a fit if she saw them now, sitting like a couple of teenagers in the hall with the bedroom door open.Her leaned again set the doorframe slightly, the hard wood giving her a sense of comfort for some reason,

Tris made a small face at Alistair's question, showing she thought it was a bit idiotic before picking up the journal again.Subtly, she pushed the slp back into the book as she wrote.Where her writing had been sloppy before, like someone on the verge of tears, she had calmed down enough that her handwriting was an elegant script, somewhat curved in appearance on the page:

You feel sick right?Dizzy, nauseous, like you'll fall if you stand?
Anxiety, makes you feel sick because you've gotten yourself worked up.Ginger calms the nerves and stomach.
You eat it.And yes, it works on vampires, and no it doesn't taste bland.

In her correspondence with the few members of his kind she'd met, they not only spoke of what had happened, but she had learned quite a bit about their kind that wasn't in text, and vice versa.Ginger, while it had a sharp taste, worked on any species that had problem with anxiety, or just felt ill in general.She'd found having it candied helped with take some of the bite off the taste.

☪ And dance beneath the pale moonlight? ☪

☪ Company: Alistair, sort of ☪ Mood: Insulted, hurt ☪ Location: Her room

mythological irony

Aoi-Devvi

Introverted Piano

[mythological irony]

Alistair noticed the expression on Tris's face when he asked his question, and his frown deepened as she started writing in the journal again. When she turned it to face him and he read it, the frown still didn't disappear.

"I don't feel sick," he said. "Or rather, I don't know if I feel sick. I don't know what feeling sick is like, so..." He stopped, not really wanting to attempt explaining vampire physiology.

He didn't want one of her ginger candies. Despite her reassurances that it would work on vampires, he knew that she would have to be right about what was going on with him, which he wasn't so sure about. He took one anyway, though, figuring that there was no point in getting in an argument over a piece of candy, just because he didn't want to eat it.

He held it in his hand for a moment before popping it into his mouth. Of course, despite the words Tris had written saying that the ginger wasn't bland, it was still completely tasteless to him. He knew some other vampires were able to taste things that had a really strong flavor, particularly alcohol, but Alistair's diet consisted of fresh blood and fresh blood alone, so anything else simply had no taste for him.




ooc: It's so bad, sorry!



The Lady Reaper

[The Lady Reaper]

Ʈɍɨʂʂɨɑɳɑ ӝ Ɉɵєɫɫɑ ӝ Ͼɧɑɳɗɫєɍ
—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—

☪ Will you run with me? ☪

Tris, her eyes still guarded, hiding her emotions behind the honey colored depths, studied Alistair now, watching him frown over a piece of candy.She knew some vampires couldn't taste anything but blood, but they were few and far between.But apparently, she noted as Alistair finally took a piece and chewed, he was one of them.

Without thinking, she flicked the box shut, oblivious to the fact the top was carved in a scene from an old tale she'd heard as a child, when all the races had still been friends of sorts.She snorted slightly as his comment however.It was funny, he didn't believe himself to be sick, yet he had no idea what being sick felt like.

She started writing again, though Tris found it mildly irritating she couldn't speak just yet:

Ive heard it all before, or most of it.And you would have to be one of the ones who can't taste anything.Even so, it should help."

She set the journal on top of the little box, blocking out the carved image rather effectively.Pulling her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees lightly.She had no idea that the position made her look smaller than she was, and even if she did, she wouldn't care.

☪ And dance beneath the pale moonlight? ☪

☪ Company: Alistair, sort of ☪ Mood: Insulted, hurt ☪ Location: Her room

mythological irony

Aoi-Devvi

Introverted Piano

((Nah, it's good lol))

[mythological irony]

Tris closed the box of ginger and snorted. Alistair clenched his jaw slightly in response. It seemed to him that she was making fun of what he said, and he didn't like it. Most of him wanted to say something in response, but he bit back his anger.

Tris began writing in her journal for a third time. He leaned forward a bit as he read what she'd written, feeling a muscle tick in his jaw. It annoyed him that Tris appeared to know so much about vampires, and yet he had absolutely no knowledge about werewolves. He hadn't even known how large they got.

"I would have to be one who can't taste anything?" He didn't like the way she'd said that, as if she were accusing him of something. He closed his mouth tightly, in order to keep himself from saying anything more about the matter.

He faced the wall again, closing his eyes, and decided that he needed to change the subject. Last time, he'd asked her about what she had in her pocket, something that he'd figured she would find intrusive and thus forget completely about what had been going on before. Of course, asking an intrusive question now would completely defeat the purpose of trying to fix things between the two of them.

He let out a soft sigh. "The person I'm protecting is my sister Alice. She's seven."




ooc: Okay, cool. C:



The Lady Reaper

[The Lady Reaper]

Ʈɍɨʂʂɨɑɳɑ ӝ Ɉɵєɫɫɑ ӝ Ͼɧɑɳɗɫєɍ
—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—

☪ Will you run with me? ☪

Tris saw Alistair's jaw clinch and spgave a small sigh, she hadn't meant it as an sultan, but she had found it funny.She had no idea how he was going to eat around the others, given most weren't as unaffected by the blood drinking as she was.Then again, she wondered how he'd eat at all since chilled bagged blood had no appeal.She fought not to think of the many member of her kind that had been captured by his.

Tris was startled out of her thoughts by the mention of Alice again, a slightly shocked look crossing her face,She hadn't expected that.She guessed a great many things about this vampire, most he had already proved to be true, but she never penned him to be one to voluntarily give out information, about himself or otherwise.She hesitated a moment before picking up the pen and scribbling on the page, the writing somewhat awkward because she wasn't holding the book:

Ian, my brother...He's seven too..

One more brief second of hesitation, and she lifted the pages of the book, pulling out the slip of paper from before.It turned out to be a small picture.She was there, laughing, as well as a young boy with the same red hair and lightly tanned skin.A bit tall for his age, he looked to be level with Tris's shoulder.His eyes were closed, making some complaint at the apparent tickle fight going on in the photo, so it was impossible to tell the eye color.She was glad for that at least,They would learn of her brothers oddities soon enough.

☪ And dance beneath the pale moonlight? ☪

☪ Company: Alistair, sort of ☪ Mood: Insulted, hurt ☪ Location: Her room

[mythological irony]

He could tell that Tris was shocked, which pleased him somewhat. Not so much that he had been able to shock her -- there were better ways to shock someone than to divulge personal information -- but because it was so clear that she was shocked, whereas typically she was so good at hiding how she was feeling. It made him, a person who'd never really been good at pretending, feel a little more on par with her.

His eyes followed her hand as she went to write in the journal again.

He smirked a little. "Well, I guess we've got a little more in common than I thought."

Before he could say more, Tris pulled a picture out from the journal, and Alistair briefly wondered if that was what had been sticking out before. He studied it in wonder. There were no pictures of him or Alice because their parents had always been against taking pictures. Alistair had never minded before -- pictures were meant to keep memories, but his family had always been more concerned with the here and now -- but seeing the picture of Tris and her brother made it different. He realized he had nothing with him to remind him of Alice.

He looked away from the picture. "Cute," he said. "You guys look a lot alike. Alice doesn't look anything like me, though." He subconsciously ran his fingers through his hair. "Her hair and eyes are very dark."




ooc:



The Lady Reaper

[The Lady Reaper]

Ʈɍɨʂʂɨɑɳɑ ӝ Ɉɵєɫɫɑ ӝ Ͼɧɑɳɗɫєɍ
—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—

☪ Will you run with me? ☪

Hearing him, Tris gave a half hearted smile, but kept the 'I told you so' to herself.It felt strange, showing a picture of her brother when before he fallowed her around everywhere.And was usually first to introduce himself.Outgoing, funny and a people person.The boy was everything she was not.

Glancing up, she noticed something, sadness perhaps, as he looked away from the photo.Putting the picture aside, out of sight, she studied him carefully?Leaning into the bedroom, she snagged the one strap to her duffel bag and rummaged through it for a moment. Few seconds later, she had an art tablet and another small box in hand.Setting them in her lap,she picked up the pen again and wrote:

Dark hair, dark eyes.If I weren't fond of being a redhead. I may be envious..Can you describe her?

She set the pen down and tapped the top of the art pad lightly, showing what she meant.It certainly wouldn't be a photo, but she was good at what she did, so he'd have something of his sister to peek at every now and then.

☪ And dance beneath the pale moonlight? ☪

☪ Company: Alistair, sort of ☪ Mood: Insulted, hurt ☪ Location: Her room

mythological irony

[mythological irony]

Out of the corner of his eyes, Alistair could see Tris moving around, and after a moment, he turned his head to face her again. She was digging through a duffel bag and after a few seconds of her looking through the things inside, she pulled out an art tablet and a box and then proceeded to write something else in her journal.

Alistair read the words and closed his eyes. "Well...she just chopped off most of her hair, so it's kind of like mine now." He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers across the bottom of his hair. The thought of how his parents had reacted to Alice's new hairstyle made him smile. They'd been positively furious at her and had lectured her about how a lady shouldn't have a boy's hairstyle. Alice had listened politely to them, but later confided to Alistair that she thought they were being prudish.

He continued to describe his sister. Once he was done he gave a mirthless laugh. "You know, my parents...when they told me about this marriage thing, I refused to come and they threatened to make Alice the heir." He looked at Tris. "And my first thought was that she'd be better at it than me."

He stopped and looked away again, shocked that he'd said such a thing. Apparently, all that talk and thought about Alice had made him put his guard down a little too much.




ooc:



The Lady Reaper