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 Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 7:36 am
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Brenley kept up his moderately rhythmic kind of paired solo dancing until the music suddenly went low and Llyr climbed up on stage. He was still wary of the boil, their pleasant wave exchange from earlier only the start of what might eventually become an easing of that wariness, but Bren was in a crowd right now. He was probably safe from demonic vengeance no matter what happened.
He was having a fine time, shrugging at Ignatius as the alumni and jester were announced and he had no clue who they were, but when the princess of the prom was called to the stage, the reaper's clapping ceased. He laughed once, a sharp 'ha' followed by a couple of unflattering snorts, then resumed his clapping as not-Ruth made her way up on stage.
"What was that?" he asked the elemental. Whatever it was, he supposed it fit the theme. Fairy tales. Weird, bizarre, mind-breaking fairy tales.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 8:02 am
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The lump that arose in his throat was utterly traitorous.
Of all the changes that had occurred since he’d left….Marosa had handsomely matured, Sharra had grown taller, and the most unfair of all still remained…as he swore the djinn had become more lovely still. Lovely enough to use the siren-depths of her eyes to harbor the sweetest venom, a punishment that the Nergal felt rather appropriate. The jibe fell from entrancing lips and pulled from her reluctance dance partner a wistful half-smile that wished very much that it had been born a more confident smirk. “Truth. But then again, one cannot simply ask the moon to dance.” The moon, much like Yaya, always did as she desired, holding herself in thrall to but a few choice convictions.
Calloused fingers reached to take her hand in his, marveling for a few seconds at the contrast between them…something he had dearly adored and once worshipped in the way that only lovers knew…and that changed in a whisper of a second as his scrutiny fell to the marking at the joint. Worry. An echo of tragedy coursing through him as he wondered what crucial changes he’d missed, what battles she’d fought. What had Marosa seen with her that Sharra had not? And what could his presence perhaps have saved?
It left a sour note in his chest to understand that he might never know.
Lips thinned in self-deprecation as he smoothly brought her to him, hands resting with a gentleman’s touch, firm but not demanding, fearing to tread too far past whatever boundaries she might have, and finding the pitfalls behind. “But a dance we have, courtesy of your escort.” A nod to further out, so that they feared not tread on the toes of any hapless prom-goer.
And he moved, knowing that she would glide alongside him if she so chose.
Not that he had schemes of gravitating far from her lover’s watching eyes, which was just as much for the Nergal’s own safety and peace of mind as it was an intention of courtesy.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 9:08 am
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The question seemed like a simple one, and to Yaya, mayhap it was, but the answer was a touch on the complicated side. In the societally acceptable embrace of a dance, considering the maelstrom she’d summoned without effort in the Nergal’s mind, he was rather giddy that his feet remembered the steps, the less he pondered them, the smoother they became.
His focus needed to be elsewhere than his oxford-clad feet in these seconds…at least that was the one point that both logic and emotion could agree on.
“Mmm. Well I don’t think I would have attended at all without his invite. Your fae knows how to be…” ’Knows how to fight dirty is what he does’ “… persuasive when he wants to be.” There was a wry note to his response, somehow the back and forth of conversation, as cutting as he knew it had the potential to be, was something of a relaxation. It could also be the dancing, that thread of warm familiarity in the most tenuous of situations.
There was also that bit of his psyche that was a floodgate of memories, the one that was rapping rather insistently on the lockdown that had already splintered and cracked when Marosa had collapsed. That shattered framework was but a ghost of the fortress he’d managed to erect when he’d first stepped onto school grounds.
A well-intentioned idiot, was what he was. ’Should have Jacking known it would come to this…’ To attempt to keep fae and djinn at arm’s length was a futile effort if they were not united in their desire to remain that way. Her perhaps but….well now, if naught else, Sharra and Hadiyya were united in their skepticism regarding the bright-haired boil’s opposing optimism. Which left the Nergal still poised somewhere in the middle of a hot-wired nest of emotions, conflicting desires, and a not-so-vague sense of dread which was tenaciously trying to stomp out the brushfires of hope that various gestures kept alighting.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 10:17 am
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Dancing was as second nature to the djinn, almost as close to her heart as the call of water. She moved effortlessly, thoughtlessly, matching step for step with the nergal--and like him, the familiar motions brought a sense of warm nostalgia and a wealth of memories from happier times between the two of them. It had the ghoul sighing, a soft intake of breath that would ease through half parted lips painted a deep burgundy.
"Persuasive is one word for it." Hope springs eternal. He hadn't seen enough, hadn't experienced enough, or simply held a higher tolerance for anguish than the ghoul herself.
Pain she would protect him against if he would only allow her to do so.
Another long breath, the gathering of resolve and the press of lips in a thin line. "You cannot do to him what you did to me." Her voice was a warning. "I won't let you. If you either stay away from him, or you stay." Glowing eyes bore holes into bright acid. In truth she didn't know what exactly she wanted from him, but her demand had not included herself or her own feelings, much like the first time the three of them had been at a crossroads. She did now what she had done then, moved out of love, for one or the other.
What ever time she'd given him to digest the warning, it was cut short by a question. "What do you want from us, Sharra?" Why had he taken the gancanaugh's invitation?
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 11:02 am
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No matter the subject, Sharra felt strongly that her poise and grace had always been better than his. Always had he respected her, known that she was strong, and in the same moment considered himself eternally fortunate that she had been willing to share her pain with him, been vulnerable with him. A mistake, that clearly, she wasn’t going to plunge into again. Even the Nergal had to dub that decision a wise one, as he did not even trust himself in this era of his existence. His pride had taken a well and proper (and probably long-oncoming) battering.
Marosa had been a positive light in her life, that didn’t even take someone who had been so intimately close to the djinn to see that. Not a shred of resentment was harbored for that, again that flutter of gratitude swelled up to persecute the demon all the further…like an enlightening slap in the face.
They were seemingly fine devoid of his presence, so why was Marosa trying so Jack-damnedly hard?
At her admonishment, no, her command, his steps came a fraction of a second away from faltering, though he did not once break the intense focus of their connected gazes. What he had done to Hadiyya had not been fair, no matter the seemingly unassailable mountain peaks of Sharra’s own personal depression and torment…he had owed her a thousand times more than what he had given her. He had tried, passing fair for the wee pause she’d offered, to haltingly form a response to the laying down of such a law, before all attempts were stifled by a more pointed interrogation.
So his answer came earnest, voice deepening unconsciously to play into honest intent. “Are you asking what I want? Or what I need? Because those are where I need to differentiate. What I need is simple. I need to keep you both safe…” He took a low breath in; for the first time since they’d begun, his eyes lowered to polished shoes, “…even if that means from myself.” No matter the nature of the threat that he posed, the boil felt he couldn’t bring them into jeopardy.
“I…” Trying to keep the momentum going, so that his constant fear did not rise to the fore and leave words unsaid, his fingertips tightened but subtly where they rested on the ghoul opposite, “What I want seems to be in possible contrast to what I need…and something given to wild inner debate.” What he was afraid of wasn’t truly from either fae or djinn, though there was a very real knowledge of just how low Hadiyya’s scorn could lay him, should she desire to do so….but of the potential to destroy anything Sharra had ever held dear.
“Perhaps I just don’t want to disappoint again.” Green found their way back up to deep azure, as the demon’s voice wavered in yet another traitorous glimpse at his turmoil.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 11:58 am
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The delicate point of her chin tipped as he began his answer, brows contracting of subtly narrowing eyes, but she let him talk, let him finish, though at the end of it wished she hadn't. Because it came like a blow, hitting that small part of her that he still felt something more than anger and resentment for the boil. She would hide it well, that welling of warmth. Barely a flicker showed in her eyes, just a subtle lightening of color.
"Safe?" Lingering feelings or not, the word was wielded as if it had an edge to it. All bitter humor. Without skipping a beat she brought their hands between them, flashing the scar on her wrist. The one on her hip he already knew about. And of course those were nothing to the deeper cuts, the dark piece of other she didn't even know she carried inside her. "With or without you, we are only so safe. And these physical wounds heal more soundly than any hurt your leaving might have caused us." By the end of it her voice had lost that accusing sting. Facts, not weapons to use against him again.
"You need to make a choice." She sounds tired, and there was a visible weariness around her eyes. "It doesn't have to be right now, but before you answer his call a second time, or seek either of us out." Or it would him that needed to worry over his own safety. While Sharra had been gone, Hadiyya had been growing stronger, gaining control, holding diligently to her training. She had beaten I'm soundly before, and she had very little doubt of her ability to do it again.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 12:25 pm
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Points. She certainly knew how to possess them. Not truly taken aback, as he always expected the ghoul to be more than on par with him, he could only imagine of what she was capable of now. She had easily superseded him the last time it had come to conflict, the Nergal would have been worried for his structural integrity should she gain any advantage on him. Not that Sharra had any willing intent to antagonize her to that point…as he was more concerned about what his backlash might do to those around him.
Her aside, the blond recalled all too well the sort of horrors that this place attracted, and what lay all around them.
Which was why his fingertips lowered to touch that scar that she had thrust betwixt them. “Where…?” The question dropped away. She had allowed him a hand before, and so he assumed the action would not be considered to grave a transgression on his part. “I’ve already learned that words don’t mend any scars, Yaya.” He admitted, that deep regret an undercurrent to the statement. Ah Jack, but he wanted to ask so much more, and for the first time since he’d returned…he had the feeling she might tell him.
“Do I have a choice…?” The words were suddenly guarded, something in him afraid to read further into her demand. No. This was not at all how this was supposed to go. Marosa, Jack bless his little, sentimental, scheming heart, had gone and mucked this whole thing up. And if there were indeed two different paths to travel, to what destination would they lead if he chose the one that logic screeched in dissonant warning against?
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 1:27 pm
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Even the calmest looking waters held dangers within their depths.
Lips parted to answer that fractured question, but she halted as he responded to her logic. She looked skeptical, brows arching up to disappear beneath the dark fall of her fringe, but anything she might have said to that point would have been petty and hurtful, which would have been entirely counter-productive to what her fiance was hoping to achieve here. If it had been only the djinn's heart on the line, these ties would have remained cleanly cut. The fae was complicating things.
At his question she had to sigh, and for the first time her gaze slipped away from him, finding the gancanaugh standing near the punch bowl. It lingered for a long handful of seconds before returning. Again that weary tiredness as she looked up at the nergal boil. "He's now given you one," she answered a little begrudgingly, still annoyed at having this encounter thrust upon her unexpectedly. "He thinks there's a chance, Jack help him." The djinn, understandably, remained doubtful, but she loved Marosa, and she had loved Sharra. Maybe still loved him.
It wasn't a pardon. It wasn't forgiveness or even an offer to return to what they had all had together. It was a shot at redemption. It was one final chance to try to win them back. Of his two former lovers, Marosa would be the easier sell. "Think long and hard on it. If chose to walk away, that is it, you have to cut him out of your life, you have to forget about us and stay away." She wanted to make certain he knew what was at stake her. "If you decide to stay, and you disappear again without warning, you had best stay away."
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 2:08 pm
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"Aaaah Hel, must you take my goals and turn them into some kind of---" Mot was pulled from the conversation and Hel's smothering cheek smooshing. Turning his head, he paid mind to the announcement. Aw, they still did this too? Why he remembered his first Prom, when---
Wait, what?
Mot smiled blankly, blinking as he was named Alumni Court King. He turned a gaze towards Hel for a minute, before looking back. No. Definitely actually just happened. And Xiu had been named Queen?
"I leave for ages, and am presented with such honours..." He gave a sniff and wiped his baggy eye. He grinned and gave Hel a hug. "Be back later!"
He pranced off to the stage, accepting his crown with a grateful nod and smile.
Soon after, he headed towards Xiu.
"Xiu!" He called, waving his hand. "Can you believe it?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 2:11 pm
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It didn’t matter that she had held her tongue, Sharra was very aware of the razor-sharp things that lurked just ‘neath her surface…and well she would have been right to say them, and the Nergal would likely have weathered the onslaught; taken the damage. Now was not the time for a discussion that could so easily turn more personal yet, he would have the grace to ask some of the questions burning on his psyche for a more private scenario…now that the very possibility of another of such times had arisen.
His line of sight trekked with hers over to the lithe fae that had orchestrated this negotiation. Marosa had gotten a touch wily in the Nergal’s time away. He was going to make a profound note of that if he were to press onward. “You have to appreciate an optimist at times…” It was both exasperated and fond, the blond having been no less aghast about taking this dance, albeit for somewhat different motivations. It was perilous, perhaps, that the fear was slipping from his grasp and curiosity instead sliding to take its place.
He proceeded to mentally slap himself for lapsing.
All too well the demon boil knew what was being extended, Marosa’s offering a touch more enthusiastic than Yaya’s, but knowing that what had passed between Nergal and djinn and realizing that she would come to this conclusion, this ultimatum still… Jack, but she loved the fae. It was a warming knowledge, that everything that had happened before now had done nothing but make her stronger, and she’d gone on to become precisely what Sharra had always known that she was capable of. It was not fear he felt at the ghoul’s warning, but an immense respect.
“I’m not going to make light of this, Yaya. I wouldn’t dare.” Because if he slipped again, the demon had absolutely no doubt in his mind that she could, and would, crush him for that betrayal.
That is, if Sharra didn’t condemn himself first.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 2:33 pm
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Features remained fixed and chilly for a long few seconds as she considered his reassurance, but eventually she gave a single nod, dropping his gaze. A moment to not see those bright green eyes, a moment to regroup, to breath. A moment to ease the tight vice that seemed to have affixed itself around her chest. Breathe in, breathe out.
When she looked up again her features were softer, and for the first time during their dance she really looked at him. Not just the boil that had broken her heart more times than he had any right to, but the boil opposite her. High cheekbones, handsome features, kissable mouth. Blonde hair drawn back neatly, clothing fashionable and pressed. He had always been lovely to look at, that had not changed, but there was a shadow around his eyes that she had first noticed the last time they'd crossed paths. It seemed darker now.
Rolling her lips together, She glanced at their joined hands again. "You wanted to ask about my wrist." Probably her hip as well, but the wrist was the newer of the injuries. Her bring it up again would serve as an invitation for him to ask the question he'd let drop before.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 2:53 pm
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He could tell the difference, when the tides shifted….there were still perils a’plenty, but now they weren’t going to shoot him at point-blank range. Though that knowledge did little to reassure him on other, worrying, fronts, it did at least give the Nergal allowance to at least enjoy the dance for brief seconds, to take her in as she was letting her eyes travel across his countenance. It merely cemented every opinion he’d ever had…to fully realize the veritable goddess he was sharing a poignant promenade with.
Life had made them both harder…in ways both good and ill.
She drew his attention back to the half-stammered inquiry of earlier, the one lost in an affirmation of his current sincerity, and the gravity with which he viewed this strange circumstance. “Yes. I did. With some trepidation but…I do.” Whatever the case, he knew that the answer would not be one that would please him. It meant that she had been lastingly wounded, leaving visual marks…much like the emotional scars that all such events in their existence tended to sear into a person. The soft squeeze of joined hands wasn’t even intentional as he pondered longer on the possibility.
Even Sharra had experienced death on enough occasion that it seemed a gamble as to whether the next time would be lasting, or merely result in another terrible return to an uncertain reality.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2015 3:10 pm
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A closer look would show rough edges around the scar, like torn paper. She blinked at the soft squeeze of fingers around her own, gaze lingering on the contrast between dark and light. "A hunter," she offered voice utterly, and possibly unusually, bland. "In the haunted house. It happened not long after the Horsemen took the tower of ancients." Where she had received the nasty gash on her side.
If there was any underlying pain or sorrow from either instance, it did not show on dark features. If anything, she seemed oddly disconnected to the story. As if she weren't really talking about herself, but telling it about someone else instead. "The one that marked my hip, I ran into him again. His sword as teeth, and he hooked my wrist in razor sharp jaws." A small, unreadable little smile touched her lips. "He tore my hand clean off."
Her memories of the battle were odd. She remembered what had happened, in detail, but she also remembered feeling almost drunk at the time. Intoxicated by power, recklessness, the house itself. She couldn't say, but it had stolen her fear and called forth a torrent of rage that had been almost blinding.
The house had feed the dark seed implanted in her shoulder.
"But, as you can see-" she flexed her fingers, smile widening as she looked up at him. "I fixed it."
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