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 Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 11:21 am
Aodh laughed at the insinuation that he may be attempting to flirt, and then quieted to listen with rapt attention. His grin slowly faded to a more curious, intellectual position and he nodded every so often as the angels were explained. Guinevere's final assumption, however, made his eyes grow wide.
"Yes, yes I did," he said softly, folding his hands in his lap, "What do you mean, reborn? As far as I know, I haven't sacrificed anything. He lives on my couch and eats with me and watches the telly."
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 11:33 am
Guinevere frowned, wondering how to explain it. Thanks to her adventures with Nikolai and encounters with Jade, she had become curious about fallen messengers, and in her spare time she had been trying to sort out all the stories about them that circulated in the closely knit circle of reborn messengers that she was a part of. "Ah, well... This part is the hardest part to explain." she said frankly, leaning on the counter and steepling her fingers. "My theory is that the dying angel needs something to bind it to this world, okay? And so when someone like you," she gestured at him, "When you run into a fallen messenger, they'll ask you for something. Maybe not in as many words, but you'll know." She looked forward, not at Aodh, but almost through him, to somewhere else, lost in her own memories. Did the recollections she felt belong to the scissors or the angel? "It's... The sacrifice represents something and binds you to them, as far as I can tell. And it's not a physical bond, I mean, the woman who sacrificed to me is not the woman who is raising me now. It's mental, what you sacrifice will define their new life in a way. Did you lose something when you found the angel? Something important to you?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 11:38 am
Aodh listened with what almost looked like fear, and then gave a soft not. Guinevere had warned him of disturbing things with bloodstained pasts previously, and that made him more than a little nervous of what was in store for his couch-angel. At least now he could honestly say that it was an angel. A messenger, even, and how incredible interesting that was.
"I did, actually," he admitted softly, "An advanced copy of my latest novel. A horror novel, I fear. You say you're one of these angels, so tell me, what was sacrificed to you? I mean, if it's not too much to ask..."
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 12:11 pm
"That's unfortunate." she said, sucking her breath in and tapping her fingers on the counter. "Like I said, they can still have a normal life, they just might be a little odd to other people. And, you know, it might be tough for them to get a date on Saturday nights." Suddenly though, something occurred to her and Guinevere seemed to snap out of her reverie. "You're an author?" she demanded excitedly.
His next question distracted her from this line of questioning. "Ah, no..." She owed him, so she might as well answer his question all the way. It was her fault for using herself as an example in her theory, and anyway it wasn't like it wasn't obvious what she was. "Yes, the woman who found me sacrificed a pair of scissors with a ribbon wrapped around them." Her hands were practically dancing on the table as her anxiety increased, and the prim Herald bit her lip before finally adding, "Plus the bloodstains on the blades." Looking down at the table, she said "The woman who sacrificed to me was seeking absolution from her demons. She couldn't deal with the consequences she had inflicted upon me though, so she left me on the rock in the rain, where my second guardian found me. Then he left as well, for his own reasons, maybe for my own good, and now I live with my mother." Forcing a nervous laugh, she added, "Like I said, I'm a normal girl despite all that, though. I'm not looking for pity, don't get me wrong. The hardest part was my wings growing in, they were pretty sharp, but I don't really seem to have any powers yet, so I don't have much to worry about. I mean, yeah, it's a little odd, most fallen messengers get their powers as a kid. But my life is pretty good." She regarded him seriously. "More important than me, are you capable of raising a child? No matter what they may be like? If you aren't, I suggest you take my father's example and find someone who is."
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 12:17 pm
Aodh couldn't do anything but blink as Guinevere rambled about her sacrifice and a large stone which he now realized must have been the raised cobble he'd placed his angel on. This poor girl sounded like she didn't get to talk much and needed to get a load off of her chest, and he was more than happy to be the one she ranted to for all of her help.
"Oh, yes. I love children," he laughed when she was finished, not noticing the droplet of blood peering out from under his nose, "Especially any born of the angel on my couch. We're friends, he and I. I don't really have anyone else, and he's...cute, I guess. Cute and incredibly inspiring." The droplet turned to a rivulet and he touched his upper lip, bringing it away tipped with blood.
"Ah, bloody Hell..." He reached for a napkin and pinched his nostrils closed with his head up.
"And as per your previous question," he continued, sounding a bit silly with a closed nose. He seemed to notice, and gave a little laugh, "I am indeed an author." He sniffled noisily and breathed through his mouth, knowing how altogether ridiculous he must look.
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 12:30 pm
She smiled, relieved. "Glad to hear it. You would have no idea how..." Suddenly she was distracted, staring at his nose. "How, um..." Was that blood?
Yes, yes it was. "That's one way to describe it, anyway." she said at his epithet. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a handkerchief, since Guinevere was indeed that kind of girl, and handed it over to him. "This might help." It didn't seem to be that dry out, maybe he just got nosebleeds easily, or maybe he was the type of pervert who found girls with bloody scissors growing out of their backs exciting, though he seemed more emotionally stable than that. Gesturing behind the counter, she asked for water and pushed it over to him. "Tilt your head up and stay hydrated."
"Really, what have you written? Maybe I've read some of your work." she paused, looking at the blood coming from his nose. She was curious, really curious, but it was just hard to feel polite asking about what books he had written when he nose was dripping like that. "Um, you know what? Never mind, I'm sure you don't want a game of twenty questions right now. Can I do anything else to help with the, um, nose?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 12:38 pm
Aodh laughed again and gave a little wave of his hand at the proffered handkerchief and water.
"Please, this happens all the time. I'm quite used to it." He looked over as the door jangled open, catching a pair of curled black horns as stared over his hand and the tuft of white that was his bloodied napkin. "Ah."
He shook his head to clear it and sniffled again, lifting his head back up.
"I find I prefer the attention paid my work than that paid my nose," he admitted, "It's an affliction, and not a particularly dignified one. My most recent work is...ah...Exquisite Fear." He paused to sniff and swallow.
"It has yet to reach the bookshelves just yet. In fact, I just came from a signing. I wish you would have been there. Before that was... A Night On Shore, which I doubt you've even heard of, let alone read, and before that waaaaas...Delilah." He let his head down and pulled the napkin away. As per usual, the blood had quelled suddenly. He dabbed at his bloody nose a bit before dipping a clean edge of the napkin in his new glass of water and wiping away what he could reach. He sniffled one more time and smirked, stuffing the napkin into the mostly-full glass.
"Don't want anyone drinking that by accident..."
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 1:07 pm
"Just because you're used to it, doesn't mean you shouldn't at least have some water." she said insistently, pushing it back at him, "Think of your health! Not all writers have to be enigmatic and sickly."
His gaze shifted, and she followed it half-consciously to see a horned figure step into the café. She shifted her mangled but clearly still angelic wings and swapped a an awkward and uncomfortable stare that was purely based on racial stereotypes. She looked away quickly and coughed. "A Night Unsure? Never heard of it. The other titles sound sort of familiar, though. And you were just at a book signing, so let me think..." She reflected for a few moments, then shot him a look, grinning a little like she had solved a particularly tricky puzzle. "Okay, if I know my bookstores around this town, there's only one signing going on today. I think I've read a murder mystery sort of book you've written, but is your name really 'A'? I always thought it was an initial."
She looked at the glass and winced sympathetically. "Really though, you might want to have that checked out by a doctor or something if it happens a lot."
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 8:05 pm
Aodh waved dismissively again, but he did indeed take a drink of water to placate the girl. Some day, she would make someone a very adorably overbearing mother. He smiled as she continued on about his novels and even pronounced the title incorrectly, as it was intended to be understood. He was a bit sad that he apparently was not recognized, but clearly his mood switched as the girl seemed to have understood.
"Ah! Truly? A Night On Shore was a mystery. It didn't sell very well, and frankly almost cost me my position with my publisher. I'd be surprised if you'd read it."
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 8:40 pm
Guinevere paused, sorting things out in her head for a moment, then her cheeks coloured brightly. "Oh! A Night On Shore! Yes, that's what I meant, I misheard you." She looked away to hide her embarrassment, accents were the bane of her existence and, as a single conversation over the telephone with her mother's family had proved, totally impossible for her to decipher. "Did it really sell badly? I liked it." It hadn't been the best mystery she had ever read, but it had been good. Certainly not so abysmal that it merited a firing.
She had never talked to an actual author before, and the way Guinevere read books so avidly, it was a little like talking to a mythical creature. She wasn't quite sure what to say now that she was in front of one (or an identified one, anyway.) She had already put her foot in her mouth once, she was determined not to do it again. "Anyway, I know about you." she insisted firmly. "Although I have to admit, I don't often read horror novels, despite what my past might suggest." She smiled approvingly as he drank some water, in the kind of way that suggested a pat on the head and a cookie without actually giving either and infuriated most people her age. "I hear you have quite the devoted following in some circles, though?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 8:46 pm
"Ah, no, that was completely intentionaaaaaah-hah," Aodh trailed off, laughing again and feeling once more like this girl did not get to talk to people often. He listened with a grin and nodded.
"Ah, yeah. I have my fanbase in 'goths', and in normal people, and in...I don't know. 8-foot-tall transvestites. Each circle is very small though. Horror was not what I began writing, but it began with a Nuckalavee and it sold well, and then it got darker and darker and more realistic, and here I am, cutting little blinde girls' heads off by way of--"
He paused then and furrowed his brow, taking another sip of water.
"Know what? You have to read it to find out," he laughed, pointing around the glass in his hand.
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 9:17 pm
Guinevere laughed. "Maybe I will read it! Anyway, I assure you, you have a following of at least one herald, and she's charmed to make your acquaintance." With one last sip, she finished her coffee and got up off the stool, adding, "But think that I should probably go and try your advice before I end up going broke in this café. It's been nice talking to you, but sleep is, oh my goodness, even better."
Hesitating, she said "I don't want to sound like I'm making the bad pick up line this time, but do you have a number for the telephone?" She didn't often make phone calls, but recently she had hardly met anyone, and the tiny group of messengers reborn that had banded together in the town had begun to drift. It was rare to see a new guardian like Aodh, and furthermore, she was still somewhat worried about the Herald that was apparently living on his couch even if he did seem friendly and capable. Sacrificing a horror novel, what would that do for a kid? "I can give you mine, and you can call me if anything strange happens with your fallen angel over there."
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 9:24 pm
"Mm! Yes, I'd very much like that," Aodh nodded. If not only for the angel on his couch, he figured he may need help raising a child, or perhaps finding a babysitter. Guinevere seemed the type to like kids. He took a pen from his pocket and scribbled his name and number on a napkin before offering both and a blank napkin to Guin.
"Ah...and yes. My name is 'A', spelled a-o-d-h. It's Scottish. Lord knows Celtic is never pronounced the way it's spelled." He had realized that there was a question left unanswered.
"Don't be afraid to call. I'm up most of the day and night," he finished, smiling softly. Pick-up lines or no t(and he honestly hoped not), he still liked this girl and planned to use her knowledge in the future.
"I hope you get some sleep."
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Posted: Mon Oct 12, 2009 9:51 pm
"Excellent." she said, grinning, and wrote down her own number. "And I won't tell anyone your secret identity."
She tucked the napkin he wrote on in her pocket, which was now somewhat dry, and waved as she left the café. "Thank you so much for everything. I hope I get some sleep, too!"
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