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.)

Comments

[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."

[yves]

"I suppose," Yves agreed, frowning to himself, then looking over at Vanessa.

"How did they earn your anger?" he asked curiously.

[miss_ives]

"The usual childish reasons, for the most part," Vanessa answered easily, and was quiet for a second, before deciding to say more. "But never more than when I found out my mother was sleeping with my best friend's father. It's an odd thing. Nothing to do with the children, and yet they always take that sort of thing personally. I certainly did."

[yves]

Yves couldn't relate, his parents shared their beds all the time, different cultures, different lives. Still, he nodded in understanding.

[miss_ives]

Vanessa very nearly added something about her anger at her parents when they had had her committed, and how she suspected that not all of it had been her own. She only just caught herself, and gave him a small smile. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

It might be her home, but he was her guest. If needed, she would go and have that cigarette at the window. The weather was still warm enough that it wouldn't be a problem.

[yves]

"Not at all, though as a doctor I should probably tell you how dreadful they are," he said- As he pulled out a pack of his own.

[miss_ives]

Vanessa smiled, then chuckled, and stood to go and fetch a Victorian copper ashtray, as well as her own pack of cigarettes. "And how are your experiments going?" she asked as she came back to the settee. H"ave you managed to find human volunteers?"

[yves]

Yves had, but in the event something went wrong, he didn't want missing people being traced back to him. Nor did he want to answer questions about what, exactly, he'd been up to.

"Sadly no. I've been using rats in the meantime," he lied.

[miss_ives]

"Has your success rate improved?" Vanessa asked, after lighting one of her slim cigarettes.

[yves]

"Somewhat," Yves nodded, lighting up and crossing his legs. "Though not significantly. I know minute improvements are still improvements, but it's hard to celebrate minor victories.

[miss_ives]

"All the harder if you've no one to share them with," Vanessa pointed out with a small smile. She picked up her cup of tea and raised it in his direction. "Here's to those minutes improvements."

[yves]

Yves lifted his cup as well, smiling before taking a sip.

"So your gift for tarot," he said after a moment. "When did you first discover it?"

[miss_ives]

"My friend the daywalker," she answered with a small, genuinely fond smile at the memory of her. "This was my first deck."