|
Post by shinigami on Oct 1, 2008 12:24:11 GMT -8
The door slams to the kitchen of a very greasy, very stain-spotted, very suspect diner (i.e., hey, you suspect there might be cockroaches in them thar waters, you suspect the meat isn't as good as it could be, you suspect you should go somewhere else because the patrons are scary as hell for various reasons ranging from they look like they've been spending the day torturing people in a warehouse or they look like the angels tell them to do bad things and that's why they're twitching or maybe they're just regular ol' cops looking for an easy mark ora payoff. You suspect you should dine elsewhere. Too bad you're the SUSPECT of a CRIME and can't go OUTSIDE).
The (smallish) teenager is left on the outside. His apron, already grease-splattered, is tossed violently over his shoulders, and he takes a couple of steps down the alley, patting his pockets down for the pack of cigarettes he just knows he has to have. He doesn't usually smoke, so there's no way he's gone through all of his cigarettes, so where the fuck are they? He wants them now.
He's a handsome boy, really, in a brooding sort of way, interesting, arresting, and his eyelashes are long and lovely, and there's something sweet about the fullness of his lips, something dreaming about the way he doesn't quite manage to light the cigarette. He glances over his shoulder, then sits down on the stairs outside the kitchen, cigarette dangling from his lips, and he sneaks a book out of his bag.
It's his break. He's planning on enjoying it in quiet and solitude, no arguments, nothing getting destroyed around him. It's his third day, and he doesn't want to lose this job, even if they do call him Tex.
|
|
|
Post by lily tomlinson on Oct 1, 2008 12:37:28 GMT -8
Tabitha is just casually strolling through the night. A day spent working with her family, a tent that had been risen for palm reading. It's easy money, they say, because of her powers. She can always read palms, always tell a person just what kind of life they lead. She, personally, would do it for free. She loves to learn about people, loves seeing how a person's life has shaped them. It's unfortunate to her that to live well, one needed money.
But the night's work is over, finally, and her family already packed up and back to their camping site, to the caravans and bonfires that they called their home. Tabitha hadn't yet felt the need to return to a group. She'd thought to merely take a nice walk, reading a large book by the lights of the few street lamps and twirling a lock of hair around her finger.
She walks down a dark alley. She's not really noticing where she's going, but a slight breeze runs along the darkness and she catches a whiff of cigarette. Unlit, but still she can smell it. She frowns slightly, but doesn't look up from her book as she says, "You know. Those things will kill you."
It's not really scolding, just slightly disappointed. She doesn't like people doing things to kill themselves before their time.
Of course, she hasn't yet realized just who's she's talking to, but when she finally looks up from her book, still frowning, she sees an old familiar face. The book drops heavily on the ground, and though she wants to turn and run in the opposite direction she's paralyzed.
"Why? Why is it you?" She's kind of like a cat spitting and hissing at this point, all raised fur and wide eyes. She's not afraid. She's shocked, yes, angry, and why does he still have to be as good-looking as in the first life? Why? This was the root of all the problems!
|
|
|
Post by shinigami on Oct 1, 2008 12:47:43 GMT -8
As Tabs starts down the alley, Aidan rubs his left hand over the back of his head and down the back of his neck. He looks up when she drops the book, though, as if the noise startled him; it did. His eyes are wide and lovely things, expressive and at the moment completely blank. And confused.
His eyebrows (expressive things, too) lift WAY up when she says you why is it YOU and he looks over his right shoulder, then he looks over his left shoulder, then back at the girl.
"Be... ah, because I work here, ma'am?" He's got an accent. Mild, but noticable just the same. Golden honey twang, molten sweet over something hot and hard. "Are you Mike's girl?"
|
|
|
Post by lily tomlinson on Oct 1, 2008 13:03:24 GMT -8
"You-you- and-" Tabitha looked around the dark alley, took a deep breath and forced herself to stop freaking out. She could just run. She was wearing good flats. She could easily just run if she were inclined to. It was just War after all. Not like she used to be married to him or anything. Everything would be fine.
And denial was just a river in Egypt. Mmhmm.
"I don't know a Mike," she said tightly, crossing her arms over her chest. With her eyes narrowing upon him, she'd trying to assess the situation. He seems too... nice to actually be Ares. Respectful. But the looks were almost the same. Of course, she could be absolutely sure if she were to look at his palm, but the touching bit always got her in trouble with him. "But you, however look quite a bit like someone I used to know."
She was trying very hard to remain sensible and calm. Because there was always that chance that she was wrong and he was just a random kid that looked like Ares. There was no need to panic just yet.
"I must be wrong though," she said, almost talking to herself. She took a couple steps towards him, biting her lower lip. "You're a lot less.... er.... aggressive...."
This being calm thing wasn't really working well for her. What she really wanted to do was run screaming in the opposite direction. But curiosity always did get the best of her.
|
|
|
Post by shinigami on Oct 1, 2008 13:30:20 GMT -8
He'd lifted a thumb and pointed it over his shoulder at the kitchen door (worn and battered, as if it had weathered many an alleyway murder) when he'd asked if she was Mike's girl. When she said she didn't know any Mike, he put his hand down, resting a finger in his book so he wouldn't lose the place. Then after he did that, he glanced at the page number, all quick-like, so he'd remember.
"Pardon my sayin' so, but you do seem a bit too nice to be one of Mike's girls. Not that they aren't nice girls, but," he waggles his brows. "You know." The mention of aggression gets a sheepish glance downward. Aidan's shy. Around girls, actually. And Tabitha is a girl. A pretty girl, his own age. "Could be we, uh... Could be that we knew each other once in a past life, 'r somethin'. If you believe in that sort've thing."
His lips curve. There's something dark about the way they do, something that promises -- well. Not violence, but power. Action. He isn't aware of it. And anyway, it's gone in the next moment.
"Well I'm truly sorry to have startled you, ma'am. But... You know, this is a dead end alley way... Not really the best part of town."
|
|
|
Post by lily tomlinson on Oct 1, 2008 13:37:10 GMT -8
Tabitha gulps at the smile, darts her eyes down to the ground, and then raises them back with a steely determination.
"Well, if so, there's only one way to find out," she says with a slight smile, a secret smile.
As it always was with her, she did things before asking, choosing instead to follow her own instincts rather than other people's invitations. So she took the few steps down the alley and seated herself next to Aiden, grabbing his hand and looking down into his palm, tracing lines lightly with the tips of her fingers.
"I don't tend to have much trouble walking around at night," she said absently, "Most people don't tend to realize I'm there." She frowns a bit, as she looks into life lines and heart lines and everything in between. He really is War, but he's not so... so much the same as he was. But it's still there. She should be more wary, she should flee, but good judgement and Ares never worked well for her.
|
|
|
Post by shinigami on Oct 1, 2008 14:07:27 GMT -8
Aidan freezes when she sits next to him and grabs his hand. He's got warm hands, callused from work. Also, there's a scar on his wrist. His knuckles're bruised, which might bely Tabitha's assumption that, hey, he's not as aggressive. The cigarette drops from his mouth, and he manages to catch it, yanking his hand out of hers in order to do so. He puts the cigarette back behind his ear, then sheepishly, sheepishly, hands his hand (ha, ha) back to her.
Trusting. Trust. He trusts. He's also blushing. Makes him look naked, somehow; vulnerable. As if, hey, right there, that's a chink in the armor -- take the thrust and insert your own innuendo.
"You might think that, but you aren't invisible." His voice is real quiet, little more than a whisper. He's shy, and she's close, and... He watches her touch his hand, feels his mood begin to darken. "What're you doin'? Readin' my future? Always thought the stars were better for readin' the future. Nothin' can change them 'cept light and dark, but a man can lose his hand, get his skin scarred up, change his lines... What's it say? My palm. I mean, besides..."
The blush intensifies, rose, and he pulls his hand away, rubbing the back of his neck again.
|
|
|
Post by lily tomlinson on Oct 1, 2008 14:24:13 GMT -8
"It says what I expected, and what I didn't," Tabitha says, not ever coming right out and saying things fully. "There's always surprises in the lines. The stars, well, that's not my area of expertise. I'm better with individuals. I can read who they are, what their lives are like, what they've been. There are too many paths that people can take, too many decisions, to be able to see their future."
She runs her hands along her skirt in discomfort, a little bit of nervousness. So he was Ares. But a good sign was that they had yet to argue. She wasn't going to outright admonish him or start anything just because of their past.
"But I think it's safe to say," she continued, giving him a thoughtful look, "That we did know each other in the past. And I didn't mistake you for the wrong person. You don't remember do you?"
If he didn't, then he would probably think she was a randomly crazy person. If he did, then he was very good at hiding it. Either way, she was just glad she'd figured out that she wasn't just seeing things. If he thought her weird, oh well. A lot of people tended to think that. Especially the teenagers. School was always fun, when everyone thought she was an oddity, and called her out for it, but her peaceful nature made her more apt to deal with it.
"And as for being invisible, it's a part of my nature. I blend in pretty well. It's when I don't want to, that I'm not. But that comes around rarely."
|
|
|
Post by shinigami on Oct 1, 2008 14:39:45 GMT -8
He didn't seem to think she was too crazy; after all, he was a witch. There was even a very tiny black dahlia earring in his right ear, on the cuff; it was somehow punk. "Really," he says, and he might've said more if he didn't get so tongue-tied, if something wasn't nagging at him, at the edge of his consciousness. He massages his hand absently. He also doesn't exactly answer the question, but the answer probably seems self-evident. "My name's Aidan. I didn't say before when you were lookin' at me like I'd just et up your baby 'cause it didn't seem the right time."
|
|
|
Post by lily tomlinson on Oct 1, 2008 14:49:03 GMT -8
Tabitha laughed with good nature. "Ah, well, let's just say I have some old qualms," she said, brushing a hand through her hair, only to have it get caught in one of the tangles and have to struggle to free herself. "In this life, I'm Tabitha."
She extended a hand as if to shake his, and smiled crookedly. Wry humor. Introducing herself to Ares. Aiden. Whichever. She was still having a hard time wrapping her mind around this development.
|
|
|
Post by shinigami on Oct 1, 2008 14:56:44 GMT -8
He reached over to help her disentangle herself from her hair. Automatic, a practiced gesture, as if he'd done it a thousand times before. He's not blushing any longer, exactly, but his pulse has kicked up into high gear, because this girl smells like...
His apron sort've slips down his back and he gives her hand a surprised glance when she offers it, moves almost too quickly to take it, accidentally snags the hair he'd been helping disentangle and gives it a yank.
"Nice to meetcha - oh, fuck; pardon me - Tabitha. That name reminds me of cats. Uh, not that you're - uh. Ah." He's all flustered, and the book slips off of his lap, falls right into a puddle. He curses under his breath, something that scorches the air, something that puts that promise of violence back into the air, taste it like ozone, taste it like a bloody dawn -
"Sorry, you just, uhm." He swipes his book up, taking care not to let her see the title. All he needed was more mockery. Soft: "D'you think we liked each other in those past lives?"
|
|
|
Post by lily tomlinson on Oct 1, 2008 15:02:39 GMT -8
Tabitha swallows, tensing a bit at the cursing, but manages to calm herself. The hand tangled in her hair kind of hurts, but it's happened to her so often that she just places her hand over his to stop him from making it worse and starts to unwrap the strands of hair and freeing them both.
"It's fine. I'm used to it," she said. "I swear I must have Medusa hair. Has a mind of it's own."
She glances down with a wince as the book falls in the puddle, glances back up at his face and quickly averts her gaze. "We didn't like each other, I don't think. It would be complicated."
She'd liked Ares as a man, but not as a person. Hated what he could with his powers. But she hadn't minded him so much in private. And though they fought quite often, the end results of the fighting had been something she'd actually enjoyed. Still, she hadn't liked him. Like she'd said, it was complicated.
|
|
|
Post by shinigami on Oct 1, 2008 15:23:01 GMT -8
"D'you think all those snakes had their own minds?" He sounds a little dreamy, his gaze going distant, away from Tabitha's fine features and up to the sky instead. What's that quote? All of us are in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars? There weren't very many alleys as foul as this one. There were rats, and other things, in the garbage. Questionable liquids. The smell wasn't too pretty, either. Aidan was wiping the book off on his pants, but it was probably a lost cause. "That would've sucked royal, probably."
Then he half-blinks and darts a glance at Tabitha, again. He gives her a smile, starts out shy, but has a smolder to it, that something, that magnetism that only (inescapable, unavoidable: war, on the horizon) certain somethin' had. He was actually -- what was that? There was a sting, in her answer; it stung him.
"Oh well, right? New day, I guess." He's quiet for a second, and in that quiet second, the door behind them opens noisily, and a man beats two pots together, loudly.
"ALEXANDER. GETCHER ASS INSIDE. I don't see no smokin'. This ain't no smoke break - hey, who's the tail?"
Aidan shoots a(n executioner's) dark glance over his shoulder at the young guy whose standing in the doorway, and he gets up. Even sitting, Tabitha was a couple inches taller than him; she'll stay taller than him when she stands, because that's how heights work.
"That's Mike. Uh, Mike, where should I wash my hands, since the water ain't workin'?"
Mike shrugged. "Don't matter to me. Think there's a broken leak in the gas station's bathroom, but c'mon. There're some customers who want some more've your shit cooking."
"I'm comin'," Aidan says, meaningfully.
Mike grins, leers at Tabitha in a general sort've way, but not too specific with it, says, "Whatever you say, man. Just hurry on up, will you?"
Then Mike heads back inside. Aidan stands, poised and quiet, listening for a second or two. Both Tabitha and Aidan can hear the beginning of an argument inside, then the squelch of flesh meeting flesh. Aidan shakes his head, as if it were all too much for him, and then he smiles wearily at Tabitha.
"Don't eat here if you value your health."
|
|
|
Post by lily tomlinson on Oct 1, 2008 15:35:21 GMT -8
Tabitha watches in silence, keeping her face carefully indifferent, as Aiden gets scolded, at the leering she receives. When the kid, Mike, finally goes back inside, she frowns.
"I would like to state that no way in Hell would I ever be that boy's girl," she said, in reference to Aiden's earliest assessment of her.
At his warning, she stands and grins. "Don't worry, I have no intention of it. I usually make my own food, any way."
There's a slight shrug, and she stands there for a moment, awkward. She's not really sure what she's supposed to do. Leave and just put this all out of her head, or possibly at least try to be friends. Could that actually work? There's still the old signs. It's not something that puts her at ease either. But the only people she knows from the past are her sister, Rhys and Lucient. She misses her old friends, family, and yes even her one time husband. As much as she hated to admit it.
So, to hide her awkward feelings, she quickly leans over and snatches the book he'd dropped from him. Looks at the title, and stares at it in shock. Then she looks down at the book she was carrying. Looks back at the wet and ruined book.
And then she hands him her book, and says, "Ruin that one and I'll be forced to kill you. It's a second edition."
Why yes, she had been reading the same book, Lord of the Rings. That was the last thing she'd been expecting, nor had she been expecting to offer him her copy.
"What school do you go to? I can come harass you whenever you're finished and steal it back."
|
|
|
Post by shinigami on Oct 1, 2008 15:50:37 GMT -8
He smiles, shyly. There's something sweet about it, at the same time there's something undeniably sensuous. He's -- a strange boy, certainly. "Well, I did say that you -- HEY!"
The HEY is loud. Bulletshot cracking through the alley, echoing loud. The HEY is when she snatches the book from his unwilling grip. The HEY is accompanied by a darkening of his vibrant idealist's blue eyes, eyes so blue they almost hurt right now--- must be the blue in his jeans. His ears turn red; the blush is back.
But any display of temper is forestalled by the book that Tabitha puts into his arms. He stares at it like he can't quite believe. He touches the pages lovingly, runs a thumb down the side, then looks up at her, wide eyed.
And he stares at her for a second, too, like he just can't believe in her. Like he doesn't believe in her. Like she's an apparition, a ghost. He tilts his head to the side, just a little, shakes his head to clear it. The intensity fades.
"I'm goin' to - uh, I don't remember what it's called. Las Vegas High School, I think. Somethin' real plain. Haven't started yet. Just moved into town 'bout a couple weeks ago. Me n' my Mama n' some of my brothers. I'm the baby. Uh, too much information, I know. Thanks."
A pause. Then, even more seriously -- adult, somehow; meaningful. "Thank you."
The moment is broken up by Mike, howling Aidan's last name. Aidan offers Tabitha a quick smile, then disappears inside.
|
|