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Post by shinigami on Jun 27, 2008 12:10:18 GMT -8
"That's too bad. But there's gotta be something you do like. C'mon. Think - what makes you happy? What makes you calm?"
Val watched the singer steadily, seriously, without looking away. The gaze wasn't intense, and yet - well. Maybe it wasn't the most comfortable thing. He clearly believed things were possible that she wouldn't shoot down.
Hope springs eternal.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 27, 2008 12:19:09 GMT -8
Marit turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. A delicate motion or curiosity, but her eyes were hard. They did say the eyes were windows to the soul, the told everything, and hers were hardened from the things she'd seen and experienced, so contrary to the rest of her which many said looked like a pretty doll. She'd looked the same for centuries, but her eyes were nothing like they were when she was a little girl.
"Singing is the only thing I feel I am good at," she said. Her hands were still clasped demurely, though it was a mocking stance for she was not demure. "Although, if I were to really get down to the crux of things, I am quite good at hunting down the criminals of this age. Perhaps I could be an assassin?" She flashed a smile again, a quick one without humor and a bit more pointy than the last.
Really, she would never want to be a killer for hire. Sure, she killed. It was in her nature... but she did it not just to survive, but she felt it was the only way she could get revenge against the men of her human days. Killing off the rapists and the brutes before they could break any more women.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 27, 2008 12:29:46 GMT -8
"C'mon," Val said. "Drop the act. Singer - or assassin? Those are your options? Don't sell yourself short, Marit. Singing obviously isn't making you happy, or you wouldn't be here, still talking to me. As for killing just because you're good at it, that's just ridiculous. I'd probably be good at falling to my doom if I jumped off a building, but you don't see me running off to try it."
My, what big teeth you have. The better to --
Val felt it like a cold touch on the back of his neck. He felt it like a sudden drop in temperature. He suddenly realized just how mean what he'd just said could be taken to be, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Look. I'm sorry. I just," and here, he smiled suddenly, but a little anxiously -- this wasn't Val's best week ever, "don't want you to give up."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 27, 2008 12:38:50 GMT -8
Marit took the few steps forward and patten him on the head, before quickly retracting her hand. She didn't like touching people. Too intimate of contact. "You are a very odd boy," she said with mild amusement, "You don't know me. If I haven't found something to do with my endless time after all these years, then it's doubtful I will. I suppose I'm just doomed to be restless."
And it wasn't like she needed a job or anything. She had enough money to last her several centuries more. She just got... lonely, though she'd never admit that to anyone but herself.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 27, 2008 12:51:25 GMT -8
He caught that. The whole pat-pat and sudden-take-away, as if she couldn't really believe she'd done it, as if touch weren't really a part of her vocabulary. Valentine looks bemused. That's the word: bemused. Well, he definitely prefers Marit's headpat to Liam's, but how many more people were going to do that to him before Sunday?
"I'm Val Crow," he said, offering his hand. "And, sorry miss, but I don't believe anybody's doomed to anything."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 27, 2008 13:03:57 GMT -8
"Val Crow the naive optimist," Marit replied, still slightly amused by all of this.
She eyed his hand for a long moment. He was a nice guy, so she didn't think he'd try anything funny, and he was still essentially human so she could easily handle it if things went sour. But there was the touching...
She heaved a long suffering sigh, and carefully extended her own hand. A quick handshake and that was all. Nothing bad could come of it, right?
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Post by shinigami on Jun 27, 2008 13:14:46 GMT -8
He laughs, not unkindly. "Don't tell anybody; it's not my official title." Then she sighs and extends her own hand, and he takes it in his. Now, Val's got hands that are clearly used to working -- to making things. His fingers are callused, his knuckles are strong; there are scars around his thumb, his palm is rough; there's a burn mark on his wrist. He's got artisan's hands. And his fingers are just cool enough to be comfortable.
What could happen? It's just a handshake. It's just skin and skin, palm to palm -- and people pray palm to palm, so what could be more innocent?
But they touch and Valentine's expression changes and his eyes widen. He says: "You're..."
He doesn't actually know what he wants to say. You're interesting. You're really beautiful -- why don't we go for a walk? Do I know you? You know me, don't you? What's that? He just doesn't know.
But he's got a premonition.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 27, 2008 13:31:48 GMT -8
She should have known. She should have realized that the simplicity of a handshake would be lost on her. Everything was always so complicated, most likely to turn for the worst... depending on your view.
Familiarity rose from first touch, a sense of knowing, a dawning realization. Almost like a 'where have you been all my life?', but she hated it. Each feeling she got was like a stab of pain to her heart. She didn't get close to anyone, and now... a soulmate?! She couldn't... She hated it. She didn't want to be bound to another man again. She didn't want anyone to know what she'd lived, especially another man who could lord it over her.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 27, 2008 13:40:52 GMT -8
He's still holding her hand. He hadn't let it go, you see, and his grip tightened reflexively. And Val also knows that something's wrong.
They're connected, after all -- how could he not know?
"What's wrong?" he said. This was not his smoothest night ever.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 27, 2008 23:07:56 GMT -8
Marit stared down at the entwined hands, eyes only marginally wide. Shock, that was what she was feeling. Beyond familiarity was shock... and there beyond shock was pure unadulterated fear.
She ripped her hand from his, stumbling backwards until her back hit the alley wall. And she was staring at him as if he'd suddenly grown a second head, like he was going to kill her. But he didn't know what was going on, did he? She could play it off... but Marit was passed that. Old fears died hard, and she was afraid of getting close, and then the pain that always followed. She didn't trust, and she didn't want a soulmate. Ever.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 27, 2008 23:17:09 GMT -8
He looked down at his hand. His expression was a mixture of things: bewildered, lost, thoughtful, sharp. And his eyes were so pretty, really - it was hard not to look at him want to pet him. If anything, he looked more ruffled, more sleepy-tousled, than he had when he first stopped at the alley's mouth.
"Don't," he said, quietly. He closed his hand, as if he could still feel hers in his - and he could. The touch was a ghost. His gaze flicked up from his hand.
And he took a couple of steps toward Marit, although he stopped at a respectable difference, head canted. He whispered: "You feel that too. Don't you?"
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 27, 2008 23:37:01 GMT -8
"If you're talking about that witchery you just tried to pull on me," Marit said tightly, trying very hard to just melt into the wall... and failing, "Then yeah. Try it again, and I'll kill you."
Okay, she wouldn't kill him. She couldn't. And she was lying through her teeth. She knew it wasn't witchery, but anything to get him away from her.
((Omg. Wouldn't it be funny if Bea showed up...? Marit= 'Lies! They're all LIES!!')
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Post by shinigami on Jun 27, 2008 23:49:29 GMT -8
Val raked his fingers through his hair. He only did that when he was particularly distressed. Unfortunately, this only made his hair even messier, made him look even more like a ruffled owl -- but with none of the danger, none of the grace, inherent in an owl. "Witchery? How can you even think that?"
Then, in an interruption that Marit might have cause to be greatful for (at least, for now), there was another voice -- a girl's, smoky, low, young, rather lovely -- at the alley's way. And a girl, too. The girl: luminous hair spilling around her shoulders, a fall of light, hanging onto the alley wall, leaning out as if she defied gravity.
"Found you," she said. "Found you both. You aren't using love amulets again, are you, Val?"
"Wha -- I -- "
Beatrix blinked sleepily at Marit. "I kid, y'know; he's never really needed 'em. He doesn't approve. Says they aren't romantic."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 0:03:30 GMT -8
"He's a very naive boy," Marit said, grateful for the interruption. She still stayed against the wall though. "He's not old enough to realize that romance is dead. Such things as love and the such are merely a chemical imbalance of the brain."
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Post by shinigami on Jun 28, 2008 0:10:50 GMT -8
"You want to believe that," Beatrix said, after a second. The seventeen year old was gazing at Marit, quite still as she hung into the alley as if she were hanging on the edge of a door. "And he sure is naive."
"Hey, now -- " Valentine began, frowning. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to find his soulmate and see that she was terrified of him. And his sister wasn't supposed to come along, so that his soulmate and her could have a calm conversation about how love was dead and how naive he was. That wasn't the way he'd pictured it. Not at all.
"Shh, Val. You are naive. It's cute! You think he's cute, don't you?"
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