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Name
Kyrie Anael Cross
Birthdate
12 September
Position
Resourcer;
Servant of Seere

This journal is for Kyrie Cross, "Anael". Questions as to the purpose of this journal should be directed to romantic wishes' main account. Thank you!

Name: Kyrie Anael Cross
Age: 16
D.O.B: 12 September

History: Kyrie was adopted by Rose Moss at the age of four; she has very, very vague memories of life before her adoption but is very, very content as she is. Most of her life has passed uneventfully; except when her uncle wanted to make issue over her habit of making friends with anyone who would like to be friends with her- including half-demons and criminals- when it got a little choppy. She worked as a resourcer for a demon summoner from the age of 15 while attending Seven Sisters School for Young Ladies, finding things he himself couldn't be found to buy because of restrictions on his job.

It was in the course of this job that she ran across the path of Samuel Marlin, a female treasure hunter with the misfortune of a male name.

Their relationship began innocently enough; Sam came and asked her to look at a blade she had found. Kyrie agreed, especially after being promised each of the nine blades and a ruby of substantial size for her efforts. But then her uncle discovered she had been to visit one of her friends in prison and grounded her for a week, then destroying her cell phone. Since being grounded meant staying at his house instead of her apartment, Kyrie had no way to contact Sam, and she was grounded for a week after telling Sam the blade would be returned in a day.

In this time frame, Sam sold Kyrie's soul in eternal servitude to the demon of treasure, Seere...

you alone are undecieved
you alone mean nothing to me

fateful meetings
w/sam

The building was huge, well not huge but pretty large. Sam paused flicking light auburn hair over her shoulder as she does the multitude of braids she tends to keep it in click lightly as small charms of various types braided into each hit one another. Nodding slightly she eyed the map and headed off toward the apartment.

Upon first sight Sam wasn't particularly imposing she stood several inches shorter then most females. However a look of confidence graced her face today and the sunlight shown off of the silver piercings along each of her ears and the one in her nose. Entering the building she headed up the steps keeping an eye for who each tenant is before coming to a stop at a door.

Today she wears a loose shirt of some light airy material that laces up the front, a long coat covers the shirt and runs over a pair of worn jeans, from the jeans a pair of thick dark boots can be seen. Piercing catlike eyes peer over the door and the number upon it, pausing to run long fingers over the numbers she nods to herself in satisfaction. Her appearance is clean if somewhat eclectic or even exotic.

Doing a quick calculation out of habit she makes note of the quickest exit out of the building, below on the sidewalk a man and a woman wait for her. The man a tall quiet blond is reading a paper and successfully not bringing attention to himself while the female another blond appears to be getting sick in the nearby bushes; catching a glimpse of the two out of the window Sam sighs to herself and then finally knocks on the door.

The resident of the loft jerked awake. Blearily, she looked around and finally stared at the clock. "Huh," she slurred, tapping her fingers on the table. It was just after four in the afternoon- "Four in the afternoon!" Kyrie was up in the next second, straightening her jeans and layered shirts (a pink t-shirt under an aqua tank top, bright and childish colors that she really liked) and then her strict bob cut before dashing to the door and throwing it open.

She stared at the woman. "Uh, Sam, right," she said, fiddling with the keychains dangling from her jeans. "You're the one with the dagger. That Mr. Fauste recommended." (Sometimes he sent people her way for a reduction in the fees for the materials she provided.) "You wanted me to assess it?"

Kyrie Cross was very young for a resourcer, but she was good at what she did. Apparently being midway through her senior year of high school didn't upset her working hours at all; from what the casual observer could tell, she wasn't even much concerned with graduation yet. "Come in. Do you like tea?" She stepped back from the door and over to a small kitchenette area where hot water had been bubbling for a good while. The water got poured into a crystal teapot, and a small metal ball (probably full of tea leaves and herbs) joined it.

Rather innocently, she stared at Sam again. "Or would you prefer something stronger?"

Sam walked into the area glancing over the place as she did, she wondered some on what Mr. Faust was up to exactly Kyrie looked young; well not younger then she had been on her first treasure hunt but still young. "Ello there, an' glad ya could see me." She had come with somewhat sparkling recommendations so Sam was willing to give her a try, well sparkling when it came to her line of work.

"An' aye, I have the dagger. Old bugger too..." at the question of drink she thought of the two below and Gia puking her guts out. "Naw, for now I'll have tea, drinks are for when the job is done. So tea is fine."

"So ya live 'ere alone?" Sam was somewhat curious the girl looked...young as noted before and well young was good and all but most times there were parents or guardians about to muck around. She wasn't planning anything of course just a simple appraisal figure out who everyone is sort of thing but it was always good to know these things.

"Um, no problem," said Kyrie, quite uncertain as to what to say. No matter how many times she met a new customer, it never really got old. Each time was like the first time, which did get old, because she didn't like having butterflies in her tummy. "You can sit, i guess..." She sat in one of the dainty white chairs and stared at the darkening water in the tea pot.

She shrugged. "I have a brother, somewhere. My dad and his boyfriend live in Barton. Mr. Fauste keeps this place for me, because he likes to have me close," she explained, having no clue what that would sound like to an older person. "I would be in Durem anyway, but he didn't want my teachers at the dorms to think anything bad about me." With a pout, she continued, "I don't know why they would think bad things about me having a job, usually they encourage that sort of thing you know?"

When the tea looked sufficiently dark, she poured two cups full. "It's just black," she said apologetically. Mr. Fauste liked earl gray, but she didn't, so she kept some only for when he came over. "I have sugar, and cream, and milk, and lemon, and cinnamon if you like that sort of stuff, and powdered vanilla, and--"

It looked like she could go on for days with the list, not even thinking about the job.

Taking a nearby chair Sam flipped it around sitting on it backward, she quirked a brow at the information. Her eyes scanning over the area it seemed Kyrie was something special to this Mr. Faust, she wondered if it was more then business but well looking at the place she could almost bet it was. Wasn't her business though and the kid was young but she looked like she was right on the verge of being old enough that it wouldn't matter.

Nodding her thanks as she took the tea a small smile glimpsed on her face as she heard her listing off all she had. Waiting for her to pause for breath she interjected, "naw, black is fine. Thank ya."

She sighed slightly and from an inner pocket took out a package, "the dirk is in there along with a translation about it. Or rather a translation o' what I hope it is. Need it dated an well anythin' ya can tell me. Thing is enchanted as well if ya are familiar with such things."

She stopped listing the additives she kept handy and took the package almost reverently. "When do you want it back?" Curiously, she unwrapped it and looked at the blade; with an agility normally seen in the aged remnants of black societies or carnival sideshows, she flipped the dagger and caught it by the handle. "It has good balance," she mumbled, looking critically at the design of it before putting it back on top of the wrapping and looking at the piece of paper with Sam's translation on it.

"I can have it done by tomorrow evening, if I skip school," she said to herself, thoughtfully.

The dirk had a slender blade as such weapons tended to, despite it's apparent age the blade was still keened and would easily cut. It also didn't appear to have a bit of rust upon it or other signs of deterioration. When held there is a slightly warm feeling that shoots through the handle. The handle is ornate with the image of a serpent twisting and striking, the eyes of the serpent appear to be deep blue sapphire.

"It fits the description there...but well can't really know until I have it looked at."

[quote="translation"
Of the nine the third into creation was a dirk of exceptional beauty the image of the serpent sits upon the handle twisting as if to strike the bearer, the eyes of the serpent are blue. Enchantments against time and wear have been placed upon it and in addition the blade 'thinks' able to recreate scenes of places it has been upon request to the bearer.


Waiting for Kyrie to read the last Sam gestures to the page, "the thinking part...I took it to a psychic. Strange I know, but hold it and ask it something mentally about it's creation...or whatever you like. If it has been there you get a flash image...seriously." She put on her best straight face as she spoke, she didn't need to sound like a loon even if to her own ears that is what it sounded like. "Basically looking for a date, any sort of artist markings I might have missed and well anything else you can tell me about it."

She picked it up again and looked at the blade from all angles. "Okay," said Kyrie, ignoring the hot flash and her instinctual urge to drop the blade. "I don't think you're crazy."

Hello, she thought. Mr. Creepy Dirk Thing that I have to figure out for my job, how were you made? An image flashed into her mind and this time she almost did drop it. "I don't see any markings I know, but I can have it dated by tomorrow, if you want. I have friends at the university."

Sam quirked her brow watching the girl's reaction to the dirk, she was surprised actually the first time she had picked the thing up she had dropped it. Gia refused to go near it and Alex didn't want it in the same room he slept in, even though she had told him over and over again that it isn't going to get up and get him.

"Alright, I'll be back then. I'll likely need your help after that as well. Because I'm going to be looking for it's eight siblings." Sam gestured to the page as she spoke. Her thoughts continued to race as she considered the girl in front of her, she may be perfect for what was needed that is if she could stomach it and finish the job.

"Oh, okay," said Kyrie. Now she had to ask... Steeling herself, she put the dirk down and began to make piles of the wrapping and then the things she needed to keep. "What are you offering for payment, for me doing this?" She always hated this part with a new customer; with Mr. Fauste she could just go the usual and he would usually go yes of course miss cross and it would all be good because he always paid promptly.

Sam rested back watching the girl thoughtfully, "well I have an interestin' proposition if ya would be interested in it. The nine blades are just keys to somethin' bigger, I won't be needin' 'em after the job is done. So I propose a trade of sorts...your 'elp an' I'll give ya over da nine blades once the job is done." It felt right the girl was right for it, plus last she read Seere wasn't a horrid sort.

"Might even be some travellin' if ya would be interested in such a thing. An' I know ya may be lookin' for a bit more especially with all that..." From the same pocket she took the envelope a ruby appeared. A rather large ruby that you didn't often see, Sam really wasn't even sure where the thing had come from, but she was pretty sure it had been in that pyramid from a few years back. "You see, each blade needs someone to hold it when they are brought together, so it never hurts to have someone else along." She waited to see the girl's response, she might have the spark in her for it.

Kyrie fought the urge to smile. Yes, this was more than enough, but she wasn't about to say so; Mr. Fauste would yell (or worse, talk reasonably and softly, which she hated so) if she knew she had let someone underpay her again. "That will be good, especially if this is going to be a working arrangement," she said, trying to use her vocabulary. Somehow she didn't think Sam would take her seriously as a resourcer if she said omg yes please!

Rearranging the dirk and the paper again, she said, "I can have these back to you tomorrow or the day after, whenever you have time to pick it up."

Sam smiled slightly and nodded to the girl, yes it was going to work out perfectly she thought of course she likely would need a stiff drink or two of some kind. "I'm not stayin' far from 'ere just down the road in the Towne Hotel. Room 288, I'd like it back as soon as possible o' course. So when ya are done give me a ring an' I'll be over ta pick it up. I have two associates with me so if it isn't me that answers just ask for Sam." She offers a nod after speaking.

"Never did give a full introduction, Samual Marlin - an' yes 'tis a boys name but 'ad it my 'hole life an' done me well enough." She reached out to shake on the deal, she hadn't shared what was all needed for her quest with the others but sometimes such things were a sole person's need to shoulder.

She nodded. "Of course. I'll have it to you again tomorrow." With a more confident smile, she stood up to shake Sam's hand. "Kyrie Cross, but you knew that already, didn't you?" It looked like she was getting ready to show her guest out, but there was a large rattling from the outdoors balcony.

The girl hurried outside and came back in holding an armful of what looked like an overweight shag rug with a red ribbon tied around it. "This is my bunny, Ukagi-kun." She smiled and buried her face in its fur. "Isn't he adorable?"

Sam glanced over hearing the rattling and smiled slightly seeing the bunny, seeing Kyrie with the rabbit was almost too much but she had the plan set in motion in her mind. "He is adorable, and he looks well fed," Sam chuckled slightly. The girl was a strange mix of innocence and intelligence, if she had more time and wasn't on a hunt she might have allowed herself to grow friendly with her.

"Fond of rabbits then?" It was a somewhat idle question as Sam rested in the chair watching the two.

"I love bunnies," she said sweetly, sitting on one of the chairs with her bunny in her lap. "And Ukagi-kun is my most precious bunny ever. Dad keeps my other two and keeps Kres-daddy from skinning them and eating them!" She pouted. "I guess it's time for you to go, is it?" She felt almost sad at it. Sometimes it got really lonely.

Sam smiled and nodded, "if you need anything else for looking up information and resources let me know. I have transportation and a few contacts myself. Right now I better see to my cohorts and make sure they haven't gotten into too much trouble while I met with you. If your interested in the rest of the specifics of what is going on I'll see about talking over the other bits of information I came across as well."

Sam sighed and stood with a stretch as she did, glancing toward the door. Offering Kyrie another smile watching the girl with her rabbit.

"All right," she said, standing up to open the door for Sam. "I hope you have luck in finding the rest of the swords. I have a really good feeling that the dirk is exactly what you're looking for." Kyrie smiled. "Thank you for your patronage, ma'am."

"Thank ya as well, an' I'll see ya again soon." Sam nodded to Kyrie and then stepped out into the hall and started down the stairs. She felt a bit of a pang but then pushed it aside, outside she knew Alex and Gia were waiting or at least she hoped they were unless one of them had gotten arrested again.

It was set in motion now just to finish it.

peer-to-peer communications
w/ sam

to be compiled

anima mundi pt i
solo
w/ daddy

Kyrie is sixteen years old and Rose's heart is breaking.

I am a bad father, he thinks, watching her fold laundry on her knees in the washroom. There is no other explanation for a girl who smiles for everyone, not for him; how could he justify a child that seemed to connect with nothing except herself? She has no special friends and hasn't attempted to build a surrogate family as the agency told him she would. Just his friends, and his family. "Daddy loves Kreszant, doesn't he," she says matter-of-factly, and he raises both eyebrows, impressed with her delivery. "Uncle Kres is Daddy's one true love."

He debates not answering, but she's sixteen and he loves her in every way he knows how. "Yes," he says. "Daddy loves Kres the best." Foreseeing the tears and inevitable questions, he tries to stall them: "Of course I love you and Dahlia the most. But Kres is my best friend."

"You love him," she says childishly, absentmindedly putting her summer uniform in a box. That's right; he has forgotten that Seven Sisters has moved to the winter clothing. He watches her quietly for a moment as she folds the pretty sailor blouse and tucks it away under mothballs.

"Yes," he agrees.

For a minute, it's all quiet. Then...

"I want to know how you slept with him," she says. "The way you held him." Her green eyes gaze at him with innocent curiousity. "Does Kres love Daddy too?"

He finds this awkward, and shifts in his chair. This isn't the discussion he wants to have with his daughter the weekend before the beginning of her winter semester. He wants to talk about... her. Not him. "You're not old enough for me to tell you about that," he hedges.

"Oh," she says. "All right."

It becomes quiet, except for the rustling of pressed cotton and soft, tuneless humming from his daughter. He only notices her unblinking stare when he is moving to look at a different section of the wall. Then he stops at the sad look on her face. "What's wrong, Kyrie?"

She looks surprised for a moment. "Daddy, you're thinking sad thoughts again," she tells him. It's uncanny how she knows that, Rose thinks.

"It's nothing, dearest," he says. "Daddy just misses uncle Kres." He pauses, seeking something in her face. Envy, maybe, or a secretive look he had seen so often reflected in his own features when he was trying to trick his brother. But there was nothing but a clear look of curiousity and faint sorrow. "Kyrie," he begins.

She stands up with her box. "Yes, Daddy?"

"Do you have anyone special to you? Like Uncle Kres is to me?" She smiles, a small quirk of her lip that grows greater into a wide grin and then her laughter, like pealing bells.

Then she tosses her short black hair and says cheerfully, "No, Daddy. The most special people in my life are Daddy and Dahlia."

But he sees it- just for a moment, a face full of heartfelt pain, the kind of look he had worn all the time when he thought Kres despised him. His daughter loves someone, not familially but romantically, and his heart swells with joy for just a moment...

"It wouldn't matter anyway, Daddy," she tells him when she gets back from stashing the box of her summer uniforms in the closet, still wearing that ubiquitous smile. "I don't want to fall in love with a specific person. Why doesn't Daddy tell me about how he and Uncle Kreszant fell in love?"

She sits adoringly at his feet as she had every evening since she was a child and he starts to talk, obliging her with stories of himself and all the others she knew when young. And he hides his own thoughts admirably well, at least until Kyrie kisses him goodnight and is tucked safely into her room. Then he can think his own thoughts, and chief among them is a thought for his daughter.

The more I tell you of my happiness, the more unhappy I am that you are not part of it, and that you do not covet it for yourself.