OTA - Winter or Yves

[yves]

The fair haired sprite had been staring at him for nearly an hour now as Yves had made his way around the little shops. For all the creature had somehow enchanted itself to be of mortal height, there was no denying it was a pixie. Those pointy ears and sweet and spicy scent could be confused for nothing else.

Yves had ignored it at first, wandering through the early morning market and pretending not to notice the way it followed. Even allowing it to get close a few times before turning and staring directly into its pale blue eyes. Strange looking thing, all pale flesh and bone. Clearly underfed in its youth. Likely brittle boned, and unaware of it's poor immune system. Yves would have felt bad for it- If he was in the habit of feeling for lesser beings.

It had skittered off for a bit after that, but he'd spotted it once more when he'd stopped near the end of the market in a quieter area. They were practically alone, some grannies on a bench nearby so busy chatting that they hadn't even noticed they had company. The only people who might see them were those passing down the parallel street on the other side of the road- Though there view would be slightly obscured by the stalls and carts.

"The Unseelie Butcher," The pixie gasped, blue eyes going wide as they confirmed what he'd suspected all morning.

"Dreadful nickname, slanderous as well," Yves replied, sneering a little and removing the creature's charm with a wave of his hand.

Winter was so good at measuring and controlling his potion doses now that he rarely carried any with him, and the moment Yves waved his hand, the fair haired pixie knew he'd made a mistake. ...Perhaps several, if he was honest. Shrunk down to his normal size, Winter darted around in a panic, desperate not to be seen- Only to be snatched out of the air by Yves.

"Go home, pixie, and do not speak any of my names ever again," Yves warned, waiting until Winter nodded before letting him go and watching him zoom off as fast as his shimmering wings would take him.

(OTA- Tag Yves or Winter, only one or the other please! Catch Winter hiding and trying to make his way home, or Yves skulking off back home to his lab.)

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[miss_ives]

Vanessa let them into the building, somehow looking as if she belonged in the Victorian corridors despite the modernity of her blouse and trousers. The flat she let them into was just as Victorian as the building, and her own taste in literature, might have led one to expect. The furniture was mostly antiques, as was most of the decoration as she led him into the lounge. There was a sitting area, a settee and some armchairs around a coffee table, and to one side of the room, a table on which her tarot deck lay. Above it, high up on the wall, hung a Gothic metal cross.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," she told him with a smile, setting her purse down but keeping the bag of fruits to go into the kitchen with. "What sort of tea would you like? I've a decent collection."

[yves]

"I'm not picky, surprise me," Yves suggested, wandering the room and taking it all in, his eyes lingering on the cross, then drifting down to the tarot cards, his hand reaching for them, then drawing back. His magic had never played well with divination, really. Too many variables, too many maybes.

[miss_ives]

Vanessa was already in the kitchen, setting the fruit down and putting some water on to boil. She chose one of her more original blends. The base was black tea, complemented by orange peels, bergamot, and a few flower flavours, along with a hint of creme. It was complex, delicate, and one of her favourites.

She arranged the fruits onto a plate, then brought it back to the lounge, finding him by her tarot table.

With anyone else, she would have offered to draw their cards. With Yves, Vanessa would rather discover him without using the cards. She would savour every discovery.

"I've had this deck for years now," she told him as she straightened up from putting the plate of fruits on the coffee table. "It's a wonder it hasn't gone stale on me yet."

The decks Yves had bought her when they last met were on a book shelf in another corner of the room.

[yves]

"It's very unusual," Yves noted, glancing back at her. "I don't think I've seen one like it before."

[miss_ives]

"It was a gift," Vanessa answered. She'd never told anyone this, but because Yves had shared some aspects of himself with her, and because she thought that he must have met some before, she added, "From a daywalker."

[yves]

It wasn't a term Yves used, but he understood it.

"Is that what you are, Miss Ives? A daywalker?" he asked, his gaze lingering on her a long moment, then returning to the cards. "I've always suspected you've got a bit of the night about you, to be honest."

Though his words weren't unkind or judgmental. Yves said it the same way he might inform someone their milk had turned, or that it was going to rain later.

He lingered a beat longer, then moved to join her.

[miss_ives]

"I've always felt there was more of the night about me than anything else, before I was taught their ways," Vanessa answered, without sitting for now. The kettle would be boiling any second now. "And I've felt poised between the two ever since she has. I shan't ever become a nightcomer," she added firmly, remembering their visit that night all too well, and the spell she had spoken, in their tongue, against the man responsible for her friend's death.

[yves]

Yves settled into a chair as though he simply belonged there, relaxing as he sank back and looked up at her.

"We don't always get a say in what we become," he said softly.

[miss_ives]

"If I believed that, I would likely have given in years ago," Vanessa answered, her tone just as quiet. To what, now that was the question; she did not think that the things after her meant for her to be nothing more than a nightcomer.

The kettle whistled then, and she excused herself with a small smile, stepping back into the kitchen. She came back a minute or so later, bearing a tray with tea cups, milk and sugar, and the tea seeping in a pot.

"Please, help yourself if you want any fruit," she told him with a nod at the plate, as she set the tray down beside it. The tea set was, unsurprisingly, Victorian. "The tea should be done shortly."

[yves]

Yves didn't reach for the fruit, but he did admire the tea set. He was more than old enough to recall a time when that sort of thing had been so very modern.

"You have a taste for the classics," he noted, "On some people this nest of yours would come off as trite, but- It suits you. It makes sense somehow. Like nothing else would surround you quite so perfectly. ...Have you always had an interest in the Victorian era?"

[miss_ives]

"When I was a child, Frankenstein was my favourite novel," Vanessa answered with a smile, and reached for a prune. "My interest in the time period only grew the more I read their literature. It's always stayed with me."

[yves]

Yves nodded, taking in the offered history and quietly cataloging it all in his mind. "I imagine that was quite different from what your peers enjoyed when you were young."

[miss_ives]

"Ah, my best friends understood, even if they did not share my passion," Vanessa answered, smiling as she thought back to these early, happy days with Mina and Peter. "I did not lose myself to the books. I was the one always getting Mina into trouble."

She did not know why she was telling him these things; she seldom talked of Mina at all.

[yves]

"You were the ringleader," he smiled, finding that strangely charming, to be honest.

[miss_ives]

Her smile warmed, a reflection of her childish mischief playing in her eyes. "Someone had to be. Our families were much too proper." On the surface, anyway. Vanessa pushed away the thoughts and reached for the pot to pour them both a cup. "How do you take your tea?"

[yves]

"Just sugar, no milk or cream," Yves replied. ...Cream was too risky. It made him too loose, too relaxed.

[miss_ives]

Vanessa nudged the sugar his way - a Victorian little pot, complete with metal tongs - to let him have as much or as little as he liked. "What were you like, as a child?"

[yves]

Yves took a single cube of sugar, Looking thoughtful as he stirred it in.

"I suppose I was what people would call a loner. I tended to keep to myself. I read a lot, I explored the woods often, usually collecting specimens and samples. I was considered very odd by my peers, to be honest."

[miss_ives]

"Were you happy?" Vanessa asked, instead of asking about his peers. That was the easy route, and she would take her time finding out about him - as much as he was willing to reveal, in any case.

[yves]

"Happy? Perhaps, It was so long ago that it's hard to recall how I felt. I think most of the time I was just angry," Yves admitted.

[miss_ives]

Vanessa frowned slightly, out of interest rather than anything else, as she stirred her own sugar into her cup. "Angry at what?"

[yves]

"My family, mostly," Yves shrugged. "The whole court, really..."

[miss_ives]

A court. Several options swept through Vanessa's mind, but she did not ask confirmation for any of them. She straightened up on the settee, taking her cup with her, setting the saucer in one hand. "How did they earn a young boy's anger?"

Whatever he actually was, she hoped that the word 'boy' fit what he had once been. She had none better.

[yves]

"They were stubborn, I was stubborn- And I was sick of the way things were done. It caused a lot of tension," Yves shrugged, not elaborating more than that.

[miss_ives]

It was obvious that he did not care to discuss it further, and Vanessa nodded, curbing any further questions she might have had - and she did have many. "I've been terribly angry at my parents, too," she admitted. She brought the cup to her lips and blew gently on the surface before taking a sip, glad to find that the tea had cooled enough. "A child's prerogative, I suppose."