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 Posted: Fri Aug 29, 2008 11:15 am
[ madness behind the method ]
[ ritual ] August 19, 2008
He sat cross-legged in front of the pentacle, dull grey eyes flitting over each piece of his 'offering.' Neil wasn't convinced that this would work, not simply, but he intended to drag an angel from on-high.
Perhaps that wasn't the right way to phrase his goal, but the Irishman was beyond pleasantries and positive thinking. He'd had enough of the nightmares; he couldn't stand seeing the life fade from his wife's face as he was hauled out of the birthing ward, never to hear any cries from his stillborn son. Worse than the nightmares were the dreams, where he could see his wife's smile and feel the gentle weight of his son in his arms, doing things as mundane as grocery shopping or changing diapers. Dreams, treasures these were to the man, who awakened to a damp pillow and empty bed to find his reality so less desirable.
He had to know that they were somewhere better. The condolance cards, the phone calls, the tearful meetings with family...they did nothing to ease his turmoil. Neil felt as though he were stuck in the day of the funeral for these long eight months, his personal sky full of bloated rain clouds that not even the heavens would allow to cry. She had looked like an angel, but her cold body was lowered into the ground. No wings, no assurance that her life was with resolution...
The grief he carried was too great, taking a toll on his mind and very sanity; he would find the answers himself, from the source, and put his loved ones to rest.
That's what had driven him to seek these methods. Staring into the eternal depth of the carved mirror, his gaze was lost in the reflection of the four small black tealights at due north, south, east and west. They licked eerily around the old fluted glass of dark red wine, illuminating the dark hue into the mirror like a bloody mist. Neil had always been a man of faith, but now he was questioning; it was an ugly state of mind to be in, and he could not shake himself of it. His pain and grief of his losses had slowly turned into an accusational glare at God, and it was with this darkness in his heart that he conducted the ritual.
With a heritage deeply rooted and soaked of paganism and spiritual dabbling, it was of no difficulty to come up with the items he desired: he created the mirrored circle himself, taking many months between jobs to get the etching just right; the the fluted wine glass from his wedding, the wine being a symbol of age and patience, intentions of a peaceful interlude and invitation; and finally, the four candles, both to honor the four acknowledged Archangels with his intention of summoning one as well as a means giving a time limit to his own questions. The black was because the white seemed too much, too garish...too much of a memory of those lost.
Neil was not without honoring those memories; twined around his shoulders was Laoise, the garter snake his wife had saved during their first date. Somewhere in the less-reliable part of his mind, he was hoping there would be a tie to knowledge - the forbidden fruit of Adam and Eve, as it were. The red, black and white serpent was mostly quiet, curled a bit towards her master's neck for warmth, as the outside air was crisp and cool.
Desperation had brought him this far; his desire for a resolution, for an end to the means would help him move forward.
Dry lips parted, a quiet chant in his mother tongue spilling forth in an almost musical lilt. His intention was an angel of knowledge, one who could give his troubled mind peace, no matter his selfish reasons for demanding such a high power to answer for phantom transgretions. The upset in his mind, the darkness in his heart laced in his words, and as the first tendril of smoke curled beneath the surface of the mirror, Neil had the sudden notion that he may have done something wrong...
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Posted: Fri Sep 05, 2008 11:29 am
[ what's yours is mine ]
[ summoning ]
- will be edited once Astaroth is received - August 19, 2008
There was an opportunity to every situation presented; Neil knew this, and it was why he was doing the summoning to begin with. He wanted answers, demanded answers, intending to summon an angel to answer him clearly so his own frame of mind could regain stability. It was a grand opportunity, all things considered, to know the truth of what he had believed in for so long, to answer all questions and end all doubt.
Unfortunately for Neil, he was not the only one who saw an opportunity.
Smoke furled beneath the surface of the mirror, tendrils of ashen and blakened grey reaching beyond but unable to manifest just yet; the tealights flickered ominously, and had the gaffer a better grip on what was happening, he would have ceased the incantation. As it were, he was blinded by his grief and need to be soothed of his accusational anger, the last lilting word dropping from his grim lips. He thought he heard of a sigh; the slender digits of smoke swelled in size before ascending the surface of the mirror, twisting and writhing like a gigantic snake. Neil had a strange feeling in his gut, apprehension, which was well founded when the air cleared, smoke clinging intimately to the nude body of a woman.
The man paled, shock making his ears hum loudly with the pulse of his own blood. His steely eyes were wide, fixed on the naked form, his mouth suddenly dry and tight with the taste of ash. His dark, uncomprehending mind told him it might have very well been ash from the hellfire he had unwittingly brought before himself.
And then she was looking directly at him. Neil could feel the weight of her gaze as though it were something tangible, a thick and heavy presence on his mind. It was predatory, but patient, as if she knew exactly how many heartbeats the man had left; more unnerving than that was the impression that she could stop those erratic beats, without ever lifting a finger. The man's throat constricted with unease as she looked over him. He was as normal as the next guy in terms of his masculinity and didn't mind an appreciative once-over, but the way she looked at him, it was appraising. Not like a slab of meat, not with hunger but with...interest. He'd seen the look in movies when the bad guys held a weapon of mass destruction in their hands.
"Speak."
The single word was terrible; it sounded like nails on chalkboard, the scream of a thousand tortured souls, the hiss of steam and deafening roar of a waterfall all at once, forcing him to slam his hands over his ears. His eyes never left her, even as he felt something hot and wet against his palm, the sensitive drums of his ears weeping at the horrible voice.
She regarded him consideringly, making him shiver. "Your seal is weak, human." He shook for a moment, bracing himself for that godawful voice, but it didn't come; her tone had changed, almost sultry now, velvet with a promise of something sharp beneath its folds. There was patience in her stance, an unpleasant disregard, but there was something else around her that was bothering him.
Neil lowered his hands slowly, unmindful of the blood against his lobes trickling against his jaw. "Weak?" he croaked.
Her stare intensified, as if she had heard something she wanted.
The man fell back on his hands, disturbing Laoise from his slumber. His impossibly dry lips moved in an attempt at a response, wanting to explain himself but knowing his time was far more limited than any explanation would allow. "Th'truth," his hoarse voice cracked out, "I want te know...th'truth of your heaven an' hell. Th'stories, all of it...I need t'know." Neil's eyes had hardened, his purpose remembered, staring back at the demon with the same intensity she had fixed him with.
"That is all?"
He licked his lips. "Answer me questions..."
She considered. He couldn't tell for certain; it was more of an impression, as if he could feel her mind with his own. "And in return." Not a question: a demand.
A cold grasp slid down his spine. "Wh-wh...what? Th'hell would y'possibly want from a loss like me?" Neil probably should have been afraid, but he couldn't muster the unfamiliar emotion. What could she possibly do to him, take his soul? It was a terrible cliche, and if that's what she wanted, she could have the worthless thing. He was relatively certain his very essence had already withered and died within him, not caring if she wanted it.
She seemed to sense this, or perhaps, had already known what she would demand of him.
He did panic then, crawling backwards on all fours, eyes wide. "I dinnae care!" he practically cried out, the tremor in his arms betraying his lie. "I just want t'know! So I can go on...I dinnae care!"
The she-demon smiled, and it was worse than her first voice, making him want to curl in on himself and hide. There wasn't an ounce of warmth or good nature in that face, a faint glimmer of amusement in those cold eyes. "I will take your pain, human. My terms are the memories of everyone you've lost."
Neil blinked at her, not understanding. That was it? To take away the memories...the source of his pain? He was distracted by another noise, the sound of glass shattering and the bellowing of creatures not meant to roam the earth. Scrambling to his feet, he was stricken by the idea that his seal had broken, but it was worse than that.
She was laughing.
His anger came to the surface quickly, his rationality snuffed out by the prospect of having what he wanted within his grasp. He could feel her feeding off his thoughts, knowing his mind and his reactions before he did, clouding them by bringing out his own buried emotions. It worked; Neil was angry, his expression stoney and without yielding. "You 'ave a deal--"
Two things happened at once. The seal the demon stood on did shatter, . Secondly, perhaps more surprising than the demon's freedom was the sudden and sharp pain in his neck. Laoise latched impossibly long fangs into his flesh, piercing his veins, the reptile's body almost strangling him with the strength of sinnous muscles before relenting. The harmless gartner snake retracted the bite and wrapped warmly against his convulsing neck as if she'd never lunged at him; his skin burned, like an icy flame, forcing his jaw muscles to tighten and shoulder muscles to spasm beneath the strength of pain. His wide eyes became sightless, his vision spotting and wavering as something filled his veins.
"I do not bind by words, mortal," her voice slithered over his feverish skin, eliciting a strangled whimper between his grit teeth. "You will benefit from this...but not as much as I. You belong to Astaroth, Neil Argyle. You are mine." A promise, a certainty lacing her voice, and Neil felt himself falling, unable to see the night sky as something darker clouded his mind.
He was out cold before he ever hit the ground.
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Posted: Mon Sep 08, 2008 3:54 pm
[ living with determination ] August 20, 2008
He sat on his well-worn couch, head drooped, not yet able to meet the dark eyes of the man sitting across from him. Neil had called him, had asked for help, but now that the other was here he really didn't know what to do. The Irishman was sporting a nasty headache and a stiff neck, as well as dealing with a very disgruntled garter snake. After he'd awakened midday and retrieved the angry snake from near by bushes (what creature enjoyed falling six feet from the air?), he had called his childhood friend.
Fear, panic, denial; he had expected all these feelings, but he felt none. Instead, there was a grim sense of resignation settled heavily in his stomach, his brow dark with realization. Even the pain in his neck wasn't as acute as the dreaded grip on his heart. Worse than that were the patient but clueless eyes settled on him across the way.
"Bear," Neil murmured the nickname with a thick voice, his tongue feeling swollen, "I dinnae what I did. It wasn't...supposed t'be like this."
He could hear the other sigh, hear the tell-tale sound of a hand rustling through thick hair. "Argyle, you made a decision." The voice rumbled with finality, making the red-head want to flinch. "You can't undo that, but you have to face your reward and consquence."
Rubbing his face, grey eyes uncertainly glanced through parted fingers to his friend. Brad sat patiently across from him, dark indigo eyes rimmed with darker circles fixed upon him with quiet patience. His friend's kohl black hair was haphazard, the result of being awakened and driving over suddenly, his expression a mask of placidity. Sometimes, Neil begrudged the Italian's lack of expression, but he knew it was hard earned. "But what do I do, then? I've got this monster in me 'ome--"
"Demon. Prince."
He did cringe at the smokey voice that corrected him, hurling a spiteful glare at the she-demon. Astaroth loomed between the two at the foot of the coffee table, her own expression as blank as the surface of a lake. Neil knew there was something terrible just beneath, however, and it rankled him immensely. "I've got a demon in me 'ome that is nae welcome, makin' 'erself right comfy and poking 'er nose where it din--"
Pain exploded on the left side of his face, jarring his head to the right, his wide eyes staring sightlessly at the arm of the couch for a few heartbeats before he refocused on Brad. He watched his friend sit back down again, giving his hand a shake as if the backhand had hurt him more than Neil. "Wha'th'ell was that for?" he cried out, indignant.
"That was for your wife."
The red-head slowly sunk into the couch, his eyebrows arched in a rare expressiveness of confusion and hurt, not understanding why his friend had hit him or why he had said it was for her. "I din...dinnae understand Bear, why...?"
Dark blue eyes bore into Neil, making him squirm a little. "She never would have wanted this, Neil." The sound of Brad using his name made him burrow even further into the couch, wishing it would swallow him before the older man finished his words. "She was who she was and while it's sickly sweet you were 'honoring her memory,'" he said this with hooked fingers to emphasize just how much he believed that, "she never, ever would have wanted you to put the blame on someone other than yourself for your actions. It's bad enough you called a demon, but to make it the fault of the summoned? I thought she taught you better than that, so I was just passing on the message. I've been awake for three days and I'm jet lagged, so excuse my lack of sympathy with your self-pity."
"I..." His voice quaked, something he hated, "it was nae my intention t'summon a demon, I wanted t'summon an Angel, jus't'answer some questions..." He realized how ridiculous the he sounded and groaned, covering his face with his hands to hide the shame that burned on his cheeks. "It was stupid - I was stupid - an' I dinnae wha't'do, th'terms, I canne..."
Neil heard a brief scuffling noise, followed by the couch dipping as a weight was added to it, a warm arm wrapping around his strained shoulders. "You need to calm down," he heard Brad's voice near his ear, "you're getting worked up and I can barely understand you, deartháir." That earned a soft, choked laugh, to which the dark-haired man continued, "It was a mistake, so what? We all make them. I think I know that more than you, Argyle. What defines us is how we react, what we learn from those mistakes. You need to make the best of this or you've already let her win."
A deep, shuddering sigh escaped the smaller man, his shoulders slumping wearily. "Ye'right..." Another sigh and his hands fell from his face, limply curled in his lap. "I...have t'make this an opportunity." Neil forced himself to speak slowly and clearly, trying to rid of most of his accent. "Even if I lose everything again, I can't let myself be beaten by my own folly."
"There you go." Neil glanced over to Brad to find the other smiling encouragingly, releasing the hold on his shoulders. "Lemons and lemonade, or whatever that saying is. You have to make the best of what you've got, even if it is a naked handful." He saw his friend's eyes stray, some of the smile disappearing; following his gaze, he noticed that Astaroth was observing the both of them, her unblinking eyes seeming to be focused on both of them at the same time.
Neil frowned at the demon. "Aye. She's my burden t'bear, and I'm hers. We're indebted t'each other."
The female simply gazed wordlessly.
His attention was disturbed by a hard but friendly clap on his back. "Come on Argyle," Brad instructed as he stood up, straightening his buttoned shirt.
Grey eyes blinked in confusion. "What for?"
"A drive. There's someone I want you to meet."
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Posted: Tue Sep 09, 2008 11:13 am
[ pride and prejudice ]
[ consultation ] August 20, 2008
[ RP starts here and ends here. ]
The truck pulled up to the shop shortly after the decision had been made to go; if Neil had any say in it, it was more like this was where his friend had kidnapped and dragged him to forcibly. Even Astaroth hadn't been spared, taught how to use a seatbelt and lectured on why the black-haired man wouldn't let her go with them without it.
It was in this manner that Neil, his friend Brad and the Prince Astaroth found their way to the store. The red-head was displeased but a little hopeful that the Italian's friend would shed some light on the unpleasant situation he managed to get himself into. He followed the taller man, almost so far as to open and enter the door before he realized Astaroth wasn't following. Neil turned his ashen eyes to the female, frowning a bit. "Are y'coming, 'taroth?"
The Prince looked at the building, her face unreadable. "No." A pause. "Not yet."
"Suit yourself." It didn't seem to bother Neil in the least, taking a deep breath before resuming his entrance of the strange, macabre store.
Hae-min looked up. She hadn't expected someone to come in, and Banshee didn't always warn her. Perhaps she recognizes one of the men outside, she told herself, but that wasn't possible. Edward and... her brother. They were both inside, she knew they were. Cautiously she ran her fingers over her cheekbone. It had just clipped her, she continued along her train of thought. No way could it have bruised. Still, Maki hadn't been around until...
She let out a breathless cry when she saw Brad and a man she had never met in the door. Normally this would have been something happy- sometimes it got very lonely in the shop, and she often pestered her oppa about visiting her. The only reason she was abruptly afraid of this visit was because of what she had seen in the opening door- her own face, a prominent black bruise over her right cheekbone. Immediately she got up, knocking over the stool on which she had been sitting before they had come in, and rushed up the stairs.
They couldn't have seen. Hae-min had barely had time to register their faces in the door. Still, she had to take deep breaths to calm herself while she fixed her makeup to hide the shadow. Tae-yul's concerned voice outside the door didn't help; it only made her anxiety worse. She pushed open the door and hurried past him, back downstairs, to smile at the two men as if she had never run away from them.
"Oppa," she cried happily, giving no sign of the twinge of pain the grin gave her. Both of her arms went out for a hug. "You should visit me more often, and call when it's so close to dinner, ne? I would have cooked! Who's your friend? Why haven't I met him before? Oppa, are you keeping secrets from me again?" The Korean woman hoped that her barrage of questions would distract both men from anything they might have seen. Please work, please work, she hoped, looking between both faces with barely-concealed anxiety.
"What was that?" Neil tried to look around his friend's bulk, blinking at the sight of something disappearing up the stairs. He looked to Brad for some type of answer, but the older man seemed to be just as confused as he. With a quiet sigh, he made his way inside, taking a brief look around. He didn't have time to do much more as a woman suddenly tackled his dear friend.
The taller of the two cried out a pleased greeting in return, wrapping his arms around the soaring woman with black hair, hugging her in turn. Neil stared in open confusion and surprise - Brad didn't tell him he had a girlfriend! - unable to even open his mouth as the woman chattered her questions, which Brad tried to answer in stride. "I didn't know I was coming until about twenty minutes ago. Can you forgive me? Ah, this," the man turned with the woman in his arms to face Neil, "is Neil Argyle. He's an old friend, a co-worker and in a world full of hurt right now. I thought you or...you could help him." There was a certain terseness in the dark-haired man's voice that suggested no one should ask him about what he decided not to say.
The Irishman, not being a fool other than summoning demons, did not ask. "A-aye, Bear said y'could 'elp with a wee probl'm I 'ave--"
"Argyle, breathe." To Hae-min, Brad murmured softly, enough so that the red-head missed the question.
Neil took a deep breath, not realizing he was already getting worked up, smiling apologetically. "I seem to have made a mistake," he forced his words to be more businesslike and less frantic, "I'm not sure it can be fixed, but some help would be...appreciated."
It was good to be back in her oppa's arms again. To be, well, safe. Tae-yul was safety, too, but it couldn't be called anything but tenuous, and her brother's jesu always turned his head away. So she smiled at Neil Argyle and rested her left cheek against Brad's chest. "Of course I forgive you," she told him, then mutely shook her head at his muttered question. Hae-min couldn't lie to Brad. The wince from her second smile would have been noticeable, since she had never had a high tolerance for pain. No one said she had to tell the whole truth, though.
She looked at her oppa's friend. He looked respectable, if a little cold- and not temperature-wise, personality-wise. And his hair was a very bright red. She smiled at it, finding it a cheerful color. "I'm sure I can help you, at least with knowledge. For help with a summoning or banishing, you would have to talk to my brother, and he's busy."
Not really. She just wanted time with someone who would never raise a hand to her.
Neil didn't see the ripple of concern over Brad's face, barely registering that the older man had tightened his embrace around the young woman. He didn't know the lady well enough to recognize any signs of pain or discomfort, instead fixed on one of the words she had spoken. "Banish?" he repeated, thinly veiled hope lining his voice. Could he really be rid of Astaroth through a similar ritual?
"No," came the cold answer to the question that was never posed, the demoness finally entering the store. Her frigid gaze lingered between the three humans as one would look over a stewing meal; appraisal, knowing, and perhaps a touch of hunger.
Were he a lesser man, Neil would have sobbed his frustration where he stood. As it were, he pointedly ignored the Prince a short distance from him, keeping his annoyed and somewhat apologetic eyes on his friend and the woman in his arms.
"It means to send them back," she explained to Neil, just as Astaroth joined them. Curiousity overtook common sense for a moment, and Hae-min looked at the demon, then blushed and immediately looked back to Neil. "...Do you have a contract with her?" Her head tilted a little; instead of looking below the demon's shoulders, she met her eyes squarely.
Demons were tools. You used them, then put them away; wasn't Maki, skittering softly among the rafters, proof enough of that? She hadn't come fast enough today, thought Hae-min, perhaps it was time to end the contract. Of course she would have to cut off much of her hair, but if the demon was losing its edge... It might be a necessary evil, but she liked her hair. She blinked then, looking back up at Neil.
"What is it you need help with, Mr. Argyle?"
Astaroth regarded the woman with cool indifference. This wasn't the one that had made her pause outside the building; she had potential, but this was not the human's place of residence, and therefore not a consideration. Her frigid eyes turned down to Neil, awaiting the answer she already knew would come.
"Aye, she's mine," came the distasteful reply, his grey eyes meeting the demoness' unblinking gaze. "Calls 'erself Ast'roth, made a contract...but I did nae mean t'bring 'er 'ere." Quirking his lips, he returned his attention to the woman still within his friend's grasp. He realized he was accenting again, setting his teeth on edge as he knew the demon delighted in his frustrations. "I didn't mean t'summon her," he explained with a bit of embarrassment. "I don't...really know what t'do. Can she be banished?"
The demon would have smiled were she inclined to do so. Instead, she simply watched, amusement lighting her icy gaze.
"Astaroth?" Hae-min shied, breaking the eye contact and pressing the left side of her face against her oppa's chest. "No, you can't banish her," said the woman, her voice slightly muffled, "because she's a Prince. You can't banish a Prince of Hell, they only go when the contract's complete, I'm so sorry. What were you trying to summon?" She ran over her theoretical knowledge. While she had enough talent to summon a monster on her own, and to shift contracts from herself to others, Named demons were far beyond her ability to control. Perhaps she would have to get her brother for this one, as much as she didn't want to.
A triumphant gleam in her eyes, and Astaroth was smiling. It was ugly, almost painful, the curve of feminine lips beneath cruel and uncaring eyes. Neil imagined she was truly the stuff of nightmares, and hearing this new woman call the demoness a Prince...he could only surmise he was not far off from the truth.
He was aghast. In his bid to summon a high ranking Angel, he had summoned a Prince of HELL? The man felt a slender hand slide over his shoulders, forcing him to shudder visibly, tearing his eyes from the malicious glee of his captor. His stomach was tight with fear, but he wouldn't let it show, and that was what she was enjoying. "I wanted t'summon an' Angel..." he murmured quietly, not wanting to feel as pathetic as he had when explaining himself to Brad.
Who, he suddenly noted, was still holding the woman. Whose name he did not know. He blinked at the two, preferring to focus on them rather than the possessive touch of the Prince. Neil didn't want to think of the terms of ridding himself of the female. "Are ye'all well, lass?" he asked the human woman, eyes flicking to the taller male, who simply shook his head. Taking a hesitant breath, Neil offered a smile, "I am appreciative of y'help, of shedding some light on th'matter."
In truth, the man couldn't have possibly felt worse, and Astaroth was enjoying every second of it.
"How," she said, ignoring Neil's question. It wasn't all okay, but she had her job, and she was going to do it, and that was all that she could say for... anything, at all, right now. Then, realizing she might not have been exactly clear, she cleared her throat and said, "How did you try to summon the angel? I cannot turn back time and fix this for you, but I can help you find out what went wrong... Unless you don't want me to. It's all right if you don't."
It disgusted her a little, seeing the man just ignore the demon. "If you don't like something the demon does, tell it to stop," she said to him. "It's contracted. If your wording for the contract was good and solid, it should listen." Somehow she wasn't sure that wouldn't make the Prince angry, since Mr. Argyle admitted that he hadn't intended to summon a demon. The contract probably had as many holes in as the sky had stars.
Another deep, shaky sigh. Neil wanted to recount that day about as much as he wanted a hole in the head. Actually, that might have been preferrable...
"A fourth pentacle of Mercury. Assists in knowledge." His voice took on a bland tone, as if he had said something of the nature a thousand times...or perhaps heard it from another. "Black candles t'focus me own negativity, four t'honor th'Archangels. A glass of wine for cordial invite. On a warm night in August, I...did everythin' I was meant to." Neil looked genuinely perplexed about the whole thing, eventually turning his preperations over in his mind.
"Laoise," the demoness purred.
A shudder ran through him. "Aye, me w...my garter snake, Laoise." He was distracted now by the rest of the woman's statement, looking between her and the Prince at his side. "With all due respect m'lady, 'taroth is nae a dog, much as we may not like each other." He stood a little straighter as the demoness withdrew her touch, missing the considering look on her face. "Th'contract 'ad nothing t'say..." He paused, regaining himself again. "...it didn't mention terms of touch and contact."
"Oh," she said, facing away while she thought this over. "August is Astaroth's month. Snakes are her animal domain, in classical Goetic one of her heads is a snake... She has four assistants. If you're greatly negative, then it would have called to them instead. And she is a demon of knowledge. Mr. Argyle..." She turned back to look at him, unaware that part of the bruise on her face was exposed.
"Joesonghamnida. You must have used small candles, tea lights or maybe four-inch tapers... They probably couldn't keep enough of your negativity to make your intentions so pure as they needed to be." With a sigh, she looked down at the floor. Such a misfortune, after such good intentions; she really did feel bad for Neil. Hae-min didn't comment on his opinion of his demon; to her, the infernal beings couldn't be seen as anything less than dogs. So she would simply keep her mouth shut...
Neil's heart sank with each explanation, each of his intentions ticked off to Astaroth's favor. He could feel the demoness practically oozing with superiority over him, and perhaps there was some truth to the notion; it seemed a little difficult to breathe around the Prince, as if her ego had swelled in his immediate vicinity.
The woman moved, and his eyes immediately shifted to something dark blooming on her face, but his friend was already in action. He was surprised that Brad could move so fast, tenderly taking the woman's face in his hand. "Hae-min," the normally calm Italian's voice was livid. "What. Happened?" Anger...and a lot of it. Neil was not used to hearing that, and it made him flinch into Astaroth.
"Should...should we be leavin', lass?" he asked softly, trying to give the woman an out if she didn't want to answer.
Brad was angry, and he scared her when he was angry. So frightened, in fact, she blurted out the truth before she could think about it- "Tae-yulandIwerefighting," she told him, all in one breath, and then as if realizing what she had said she slapped both hands over her mouth and looked at the ground. Hoping to cover it up, she looked over at Neil's shoes- turning the bruised side of her face away- and said, slower and in a more understandable tone, "I mean. I walked into a door- i-it wasn't really anything big but you know how vain I am." Trying to make it a joke, that might work. Nothing happened, she thought firmly.
"Aiyeh, ah... Is there anything else I can help you with?" Brush it off. Act like it was nothing. Because it wasn't- nothing happened. If Hae-min couldn't convince herself, she would never, ever convince Brad, and she didn't want him to worry. The demoness over Mr. Argyle's shoulder was the problem here. That was something to worry on, and she focused in on that problem. "I don't think there's much else I can tell you... Since you didn't receive assistance for your summoning through here, you don't have to sign the waiver, even though I think Edward would appreciate it if you came back sometimes. You could meet with me, if that would make you more comfortable, or you could meet with Ed, who's..."
Well. Edward was Edward.
"...And I don't recommend you meet with Tae-yul," she said under her breath, though Brad, being so close, might have heard it.
He could tell by the pulse jumping beneath his friend's neck that Brad didn't believe the 'door' thing for a second. As the other's dark gaze turned up the stairs, otherwise remaining motionless with an arm still around the woman, Neil decided to plunge along with her words. "Um, I think y'covered it nicely," he said with a small hint of remorse, remembering his own problems. "Ye'want us t'come back later the? Like a check up?" He glanced over to Astaroth as though to see what she thought of it, but as usual, she retained her stoic and distinerested expression.
Neil sighed softly. "Aye, we can at least come back. If anything, just t'...keep things up t'date. So there's no surprises." At least...at least they didn't require knowing the contents of the contract. He didn't want to say it out loud, didn't want either of them to hear what he'd done in his desperation. That, at least, was one mistake he could keep to himself.
"Yes," she said, reaching up to rub at her face. Was the bruise really that extensive anyway? She knew she bruised easy. A door could have done it, really, it didn't have to be her brother. "It's exactly that, so we know about all the different kinds of demons and how they act."
The woman reached up to turn Brad's face to hers, even knowing it would remind him of the bruise. "Don't," she told him. "He's my dongsaeng. Sometimes he gets angry, that's all. And he tries, he really does. He's a good b- man," she corrected herself. He was grown now, her little brother. "It was an accident, and I said my fair share of bad things. It doesn't happen that often, and I'm older, I should know better, especially since I dragged up things he didn't want to talk about. I'm the one who made it go out of control. So don't." I love you, oppa, she tried to say, but she found herself choked up; she stepped quickly back to the desk where she had been when the two men had come in and covered her face with her hands. Hae-min could ignore them until they left, really she could, but she found herself watching them anyway. More specifically, Brad. Part of her hoped he would leave. The other part wanted to tuck herself back into his arms and cry...
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Posted: Fri Sep 12, 2008 11:32 am
[ tuning of violins ] August 21, 2008
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Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2008 3:14 pm
[ angels & demons ] August 22, 2008
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Posted: Fri Oct 03, 2008 10:35 am
[ because i protect ] September 01, 2008
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Posted: Mon Nov 10, 2008 1:18 pm
[ memories of you ] September, 2008
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Posted: Thu Jan 01, 2009 12:57 am
[ power of the heart ] September, 2008
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Posted: Thu Jan 29, 2009 8:19 am
[ the path was closed ] October, 2008
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Posted: Thu Feb 26, 2009 3:35 pm
[ calamity ] October, 2008
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Posted: Wed May 06, 2009 11:54 pm
[ this strange sensation ] October, 2008
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Posted: Fri Jul 10, 2009 4:49 pm
[ the path is open ] October, 2008
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