Post by Xavier Darnai on Jul 11, 2014 12:24:59 GMT
Obvious Illusion: Her hair had no restraint in it that night. She sat in the back of the restaurant, trying to painfully concentrate. She had fed, that much might have been obvious to those of her kind. She had a pink hue splashed on top of the pale skin. Her legs had been drawn together, far underneath the table as she squeezed herself as close to the wall as possible. The addition of the booth certainly helped that task. Though it was respectful, her sunglasses - the reflective, favored aviators were resting upside down just away from a still steaming mug of coffee. It was his place, Reader knew. She knew it was his diner she breached. But, she still couldn't help it. She wanted something that was vaguely familiar to suffer within. Of course, her headache was no different. It was an after thought to that heady trance-like state days ago. Too much on her mind. Too little of sleep. The constant, stubborn tendencies just crushed her psyche to focus on something that required so little effort and struck her need to have more and more of. Reading, he probably never knew it could be such a brutal habit. Her attire for that evening out was a pair of wide-leg brown slacks topped with a white blouse and cap sleeves. There was no jacket. There was no jewelry. There was not even a sweater anywhere. No, just her purse tucked to her side and that makeup-less face on a woman hunched forward over her cheesecake. And oddly enough, it was barely eaten, picked at with fork lines up and down the once perfect slice.
Xavier Darnai: The last few days had left him vaguely aimless, a period of time between operations could do that. There were a few concessions to be made regarding an old friend, and those had been handled. Still, as he made his way in to the diner, he gave Natasha a nod. The man was dressed well, as was typically the case for public consumption, charcoal suit, red tie, white shirt, all the markings of a professional gentleman. Over it all was the rather nice looking heavy winter coat, worn despite the summer weather. Held carefully in his right arm was a black box made of leather with a silver lock on the front. Passing the hostess station, and the common area, something caught his attention as he set the box down, slowly turning towards the booths and spotting Reader there. Noting the dressed down nature, but the improved tone in her cheeks, he moved to join her. Stripping off the heavy coat, he folded it over his arm neatly before setting it on the table. His suit jacket was next, unbuttoned against his chest before he slid into the seat and quietly stared at her across the table. She looked peaceful in a way, despite the distracted state she seemed to be in. "I have to admit this's a bit unexpected."
Obvious Illusion: "I'm sorry." It rushed out of her mouth as if she had been holding onto it for days. It perhaps had toiled within her brain, sending her back and forth with guilt or conviction. It had peeled from her lips in such a way that she was almost embarrassed in the very nature that he had seen her. Self-destructive, yet not. Debased, yet not. Her mind had shut off, the hunger for something completely out of the ordinary she found only in refuge with her passion. Falling into other people's make believe worlds were pretty. They were painless. They were pretty much a fail safe mechanism in which a panic or boredom stricken mind fell into. With all of that lustrous, thick hair surrounding her shoulders, she lifted her chin to look at him. Those dual colored eyes blinked as if she were afraid to miss reading his face. "You shouldn't have seen me like that." She normally would have been bunkered down safely within her own home, but the anxiety of the past had caught up with the realization of the future and her mind shut down, simply sending her to the favored bookshelf. Only - she had one stashed in her purse. And once she started, she couldn't stop. So she swallowed tightly, knowing that eating was a fruitless effort so she set the fork down quietly upon the plate and pulled her coffee closer.
Xavier Darnai: "Don't apologize. No point to it." It was quick enough, but without any bite to it. Xavier assessed, rarely did he feel the need to judge. Judgement required a level of removal that he did not believe was possible despite his very rampant disconnection. Still, at her second admission, he could only raise a brow. "You're going to need to be a touch more specific than that, love. I've seen you lots've ways, telling me I shouldn't've seen you in any particular state's sort've missing the proper detail." Sitting back, he crossed his leg over his knee, resting his right angle there with the muted thunk before setting his right arm down against the surface of the table. Fingers drummed idly, little more than a muscle twitch as he watched her in silence. He could have made a guess about what she meant, but he had no interest in playing darts in the dark over it.
Obvious Illusion: "Detached." Reader simply murmured. Where she was holding the coffee mug between her fingers now, the residual warmth ran over the long digits. She gave a haphazard roll of her shoulder as those dual eyes fell from his face to the table. She reached for the sweetener and the creamer. She started tearing those tiny little packets open one by one and dumping them into the blackness. No, she shouldn't have seen her like that. Reader had many faces. She had many moods, but that was one that no one deserved to see. The utter ignorance she guessed. The constant and if not blatant ignoring of others. She had, in a way, retreated into her own self at that time - barely giving way to anyone else's presence. Reader was not a social creature. She hated groups. She hated crowds. She thrived in a more intimate setting. So, she opened her lips. "At the park. That." She was just a bucket full of words that night.
Xavier Darnai: No short measure of irony was present considering her explanation. Seeming detached was hardly something he considered to be detrimental, doing so would require him to be ignorant of is own actions. Further, it was not how he would have put it himself. "Focused." A simple contradiction and suggested correction to her own self assessment. "I've seen it before, used to it really. Sort've goes with the territory've the people that I've been required to deal with over the years." Tilting his head slightly to the side as he looked her over, watching how she tore through the paper to add sweetness to a concoction that served no further purpose. His familiar quarter of a grin was on display for the briefest of moments if she had bothered to look. "Besides, sort've like a statue, really. Couldn't say how long I'd stopped to look at the sculpture on display. Perfect placement, that, such a thing in the middle've a park, unable to regard the world about outside've its own existence."
Obvious Illusion: "Is that what you'd have called it? Focused?" Reader lifted her chin, stopping the pouring of cream to look at Xavier. She almost looked perplexed. She almost looked as if she didn't believe him. But, of course, there was a little shake of her head. There was a little bit of tension that let the line that had become her lips sulk into a bit of a pout. It was, after all, as if she were remembering things of the past. It was a cruel memory. The grimace was quick as she picked up the spoon that resided upon the nearby napkin and sunk it into the depths of the cup. She swirled it, bringing the blackness of the coffee to it's favored milky look. "Then at least you weren't completely out of your element. At least you just let it go." Had he, let it go, that was? Had he just walked away from her? Sure, she recognized him. But in her own way, she couldn't stop. She couldn't lift her eyes from that book for too long or engage with the man that she watching her. She let go of a held breath, looking almost ever so briefly insecure - or angry - or relieved all at once. Perhaps, that was because he didn't sit there and lecture her like she had once been. In her darkest memories, she still wouldn't be free.
Xavier Darnai: "That's what it could've been called." Rust red eyes kept focused on the mirrors of her sunglasses without bothering to look at his own reflection. Generally he had little interest in it; some might say that could explain the wild nature of his hair -- that or a lack of brushes. Almost as if he was staring beyond the reflective surface, he kept watch on her, straightening his head again after a moment. "Can't say anyone's ever been one to say I'm the sort to let anything go..." Trailing off for a moment, he reached into the suit jacket to begin the ritual of habit that revolved around the nicotine addiction he was also known for. So many things that seemed to be affectations, masks and red herrings. The lighter was set down on the bar for the moment as he slid one of the cigarettes free. "...then again, I do know when it's appropriate to move on to the next task, whatever it may be." Pinning the cylinder between his lips, the worn nickel lighter with the embossed red star was taken up in his left, flipped open, and struck to life as his eyes focused on the fire in front of him.
Obvious Illusion: "I suppose that is a good notion to live by. Always moving onto something more. The next challenge, one would say." Although, Reader never had too much of a challenge in front of her. She didn't police the intergalactic skies. She didn't go hunt down the wrong-doers of the world. She didn't get herself involved in any big schemed drug smuggling or illegal activities to fight crime or have something much to look forward to. She led a life. She led an immortal life that had begged for attention. Her lust for the typical had not paired well with someone that needed adventure. She didn't. Dropping her chin, there really wasn't much more to say. She lifted the coffee to her lips and drank. She could, for some reason, digest liquids. Solids were a bit more tricky, but that was perhaps because her bloodline had been one to always overcome the deadened disgust. Blood tainted was almost good enough, after all. She licked her lower lip, let her elbows rest on the table top, and simply looked to be mulling something over.
Xavier Darnai: Only a brief moment longer passed as he stared at the dancing fire before he was able to take in that first hit, slapping the lighter shut and dropping it onto the pack of cigarettes in front of him. Xavier's eyes closed and his brow lift in moderate acceptance of her response. Exhaling slowly, his right shoulder lift just slightly in a partial shrug. "Works out well enough for some. Others aren't so fortunate." As his eyes opened again, he glanced to the end of the table briefly, noting the waitress there and shaking his head just once. He wouldn't be taking anything from the menu tonight. "Speaking've living on, you're looking well comparatively." She had been pushing herself it seemed, and to be fair she had not been alone in that venture, Xavier just happened to be able to hide his own fasting with a touch more ease.
Obvious Illusion: "I get daily deliveries. Sometimes I don't want them. I want ... the real deal. The authentic meal. So, I have a hard time. I teeter back and forth. I fall. But, I get right back up and have that particular drink once again." She murmured to Xavier. She let her breath go. She sipped more of that coffee as she looked down at her glasses. She had set them there, that migraine had been reduced to a nagging ache behind her eyes. She needed. She had such a terrible desire. There with her shirt tucked into her slacks and those wedges on - not the typical Prada adorning her feet, she shrugged. "Thank you, though. You look mighty fine yourself, Sir." She smiled to him, and in that smile there was just the hint of realization that she was feeling so much.
Xavier Darnai: A certain ideal rang heavily in her statement, the want and need for the real thing. It had been so long since any of that had measured, and yet still in the back of his head he could recall such similar cravings. For quite some time he had been convinced that there were certain things he simply could not live without, things that he needed to get him through the day. When that darkness finally came, though he had traded one addiction for the other, the nagging remained. He knew so very well what she was going through, that need for the real thing. Even still there was no sign of empathy, or even sympathy as she spoke, he simply took another hit off the cigarette before reaching for the tray to discard the gathered ash. "I do try to keep up appearances." The smoke spilled out as he spoke, letting his brow bounce just once. "I've heard that fresh caught game's always preferable, but to be honest I can't bring myself to spot the difference. Suppose this's how vegetarians've always felt. Ironic, that."
Obvious Illusion: "It's a feeling sometimes. It's the way that it makes you ... part of yourself. It makes you thankful that you've been productive. That you can treasure the feast in a way you couldn't if a glass had been set before you of the finest wine and yet you weren't the one to crush the grapes to know the fruit of your own labor." It was difficult to understand, but Reader hoped that analogy could resonate. She took a deep breath - inhaled the smoke, a poison, and relished the wonderful scent as she added another creamer to her mug and stirred slowly. The Claclank against the mug was certainly enough gentle sound to caress her ears. "I wonder if I wasn't selfish enough. If I didn't demand enough. If I just couldn't have been enough. Too focused on... what? I don't understand. Missing... parts. Just not the right type." She chuckled, almost to herself. "I always pick through my mistakes. Never get many answers. I don't like being lied to. Sometimes, I don't like the mystery. I don't like the feeling that someone is pulling the wool over my eyes or playing tricks just to keep something fresh. Be straight with me. Why is it so hard for some people just to be ... real?" She was turning the conversation in a different direction. Perhaps, it was because she knew she couldn't continue on the same path she was.
Xavier Darnai: Her question was targeted at perhaps the worst possible person to provide an answer that could objectively be called genuine. Years of studying people had given him quite a severe number of talents, among which was being exactly who he needed to be in any given moment. It was exceptionally possible that there was no one who knew the real man. Even he had been unsure about it on more than one occasion, though the results of such an incident typically involved body bags. Still, he looked at her a moment, drawing in a partial breath after exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke. "Because no one wants to be the person they are in front've anyone else, they're afraid've the possible results. Abandonment, hatred, sorrow, pity, violence, doesn't matter. It's not in anyone's nature to just be themselves, only to be the person they're convinced the person across from them wants. Narcissists're the ones who've learned to be true to themselves, because all they want is what they see in the mirror. There's no mask to'em. Downside's that they don't give a shite about anyone other'n themselves either." Shaking his head once, he took another hit off the cigarette, exhaling slowly. "Don't think've'em as mistakes, Reader. That's a perfectionist's game, and it ends poorly, because nobody's good'n proper perfect."
Obvious Illusion: "They lied to me." That was all she said. That was all she could perhaps fathom. It is what made it easy to walk away. Lies. She hated lies. She hated the front that people put up. She hated not knowing where she stood with others. Granted, this really truly didn't involve the man sitting next to her. She knew he was a master at illusions. This was about the others. Her past. What she left behind and perhaps who she left behind. But, par for the course, the man was right. It was a game. And she seemed to roll a shoulder. She seemed almost broken down. Perhaps, she always reflected after those estranged moods of hers. She always wondered what she did wrong. That she was the cause of not even her misfortune - no, she didn't look at it like that. She was the cause of her solitude. There was a shake to her head as she lifted the mug to her lips again. "Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should have worn a mask all along."
Xavier Darnai: "Everyone lies. Typically to themselves more'n anything else." Reaching over to the tray after one final hit, he snuffed out the cigarette, crushing it under the weight of his fingers before he leaned his weight against the edge of the table. The left arm-- so meticulously bandaged beneath the sleeve of his shirt and suit jacket --left a thump in its wake before he pressed his weight to it so gently the table wouldn't so much as creak. "The trick's to know they're lying. Water's not the solution for every acid, sometimes something just as vicious's the only counter. If you can take their lies for what they are, then there's no reason for the self loathing." A subject he was very well versed on, himself. "You've got your masks, Reader, you try to hide what you worry about, and whom. A quiet measure of arms length and apathy. Nothing wrong with it really, works well enough for me I can say."
Obvious Illusion: Just not the right fit. Feelings change. People change. Situations change. She knew all these things that she'd stroke over her memory to soothe the pain of rejection. No, not even that... abandonment. Fighting. Screaming. Yelling. Anger. All these things broiled under the surface and they spilled over time to time. She'd love to be home, curled up on her couch or sinking herself through the water of that oversized pool. However, she indulged in her need for a bit of companionship; plus the needed apology - in her mind. She gave a bit of a huff, sad to say his cigarette was finished and she looked briefly around for the waitress for a warm up on her coffee. Fingertips tapped the rim of the ceramic cup now. "Yeah. I guess we all have our masks. We all have the need to be someone we aren't every once in a while. Damage control to ourselves." She supposed... that was the extent.
Xavier Darnai: "That'd be one way to put it." Watching her huff and noting the brief glance to the ash tray, he leaned back a bit and settled his weight against the cushioned booth. Lifting his right hand, he curled fingers against the side of his face as she requested the top-off in her silent way. "There's a certain melodrama to a person who's so obviously depressed and already dead." It was a quiet statement, and generally pointed out something he typically only alluded to at best. It seemed to behoove him to only imply, or let others infer what he might have been speaking of when it came to that behind the veil. There was no denying that the masquerade was important to the man, in ways that many of their own kind could never understand. "Though I don't think that attempting to do yourself in'd be a fitting answer."
Obvious Illusion: "People always deceive. They are good at deceiving." She looked to him briefly, of course, it wasn't hard to do. The man was made of metal, electronics, flesh and blood and bone and he was still oh so very handsome. He wore a suit like a supermodel wore lingerie on those winged commercials and it drove her to want to peel it away from him. Of course, only in her fantasies - he was married and he was intimately aloof. Reader never held that against him, though. Men like that were to be respected and she just drove forth onto the next bit of game. A gamble, perhaps. She let her body relax against the cushioning of the booth and finally she flagged down a waitress. Regular coffee, the smell of it alone warmed her insides as she began tearing those sugar packets again. "I didn't figure you for depressed." Perhaps it was a tease. Of course, she frowned a bit next at his final words. "No. I only ever considered that once. Nothing like taking a bottle of rum upstairs onto the roof and drinking it while one waited for the sun to rise." That, though... Was when Daniel had torn her heart out. With his timedoor ability and his scientific facts. He hurt her. He more that bruised her. She never ... quite recovered from that. Even an apology didn't make it better.
Xavier Darnai: He had not truly been out of touch with the concept of sexuality in quite some time, but his discipline on the subject was very clear. Touching the art typically came with a price, often one paid in pain. The teasing retort at the theory of his own depression was let pass with a touch of a smirk, Xavier often could take as well as he was able to give, but when her face seemed to shift with the weight of his true intentions his eyes locked on the woman. Free handed truth weighed in her voice, and her chosen method had some poetry to it. "I've no doubt everyone has their own self contingency plan in theory, and I'm sure there're plenty who'd be rather jealous've your pyre. It'd be a bloody shame to lose such a lovely piece've art." After all, he had proven that he could watch her in silence for quite an extended period of time, and all she had to do was be enthralled by a book.
Obvious Illusion: "Is that why no one wants to touch me? Because I'm art?" As if, by their touch, she'd degrade. She'd quake, crumble, and be no more. Her last lover had recoiled from her, fear sunk into him by a man that couldn't even bring himself to touch her much less tolerate her. To be threaded together by such superficial lies of love, she wondered now if any of it was true. She had ... given up her immortality briefly for him, and he still looked at her with a sliver of disgust in his eyes. She, in return, in that moment, squeezed her own briefly shut. She brought her hand up, rubbing at the bridge of her nose as she laughed it off underneath her breath with a chuckle. The creamer was eyed, but yet to be dispensed from the tabletop into her mug. "It comes and goes, the bittersweetness of death. The relief. I thought there would be relief in it. That one doesn't have to live with loss anymore. Made to look a fool and all." Reader didn't truly take that lightly. After all, no one that she used to know came to call for a visit except perhaps Walker or Nicholas. She thought about excising her own heart. To remove the organ that someone once had a hold of. In truth, it was poetic. However... It was almost disgusting to live with something that someone else had their hands on. Forgiveness wasn't Reader's strong .. suit.
Xavier Darnai: "You think I don't want to touch you." A single brow rose as he regarded her. He could have spoken to her thoughts of relief from their condition, but in truth there was nothing he could say to her about it that he was certain had not already played through her own head. Still, he stared for a moment. "You think that lack've want is the restraint that binds my hand. That I would not take every opportunity to trace each line, each mark of the chisel and curve of cool stone. Oh no, love. Want is not the issue." Rust red eyes remained locked on her as he took in the sight of her form, the curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell, the slender neck and her shoulders, even with that vaguely slumped posture as she let the booth surround her. He watched her as a forger would study a masterpiece, preparing their own recreation of the work in their own mind. Unblinking, unfazed, he did not look away until he had traced every visible line of her over the table, and even a piercing gaze as he reconstituted what was hidden from memory. When he was done, his eyes returned to hers and waited there, still unblinking.
Obvious Illusion: "I don't know what to think." Which, was almost whispered with a hostile tilt to her words. It was more irritation than not. She brewed need. She brewed want. She cut it down, shoving it deep at all times. He was a mended part of a whole and that still didn't matter. It was something that brought together her tortured conscious. It was something that caused desire to be craved within her. She might not have shut it off. She might have even spoken about it. She might have even of touched him. It was, in truth, because she couldn't help herself. Reader was a very physical creature that had denied herself for such long periods of time that her restrained need to manifestations in bitch-mode. She smirked a bit. No, it curved into a smile. She tilted her chin up, watched him looking at her. He could see his eyes so ever intent to make out every change in her facial features and then some. "You already are committed." She finally, smiling. Because it was a noble thing. Because that alone was to be respected. She would be damned if she broke that record again. "I don't know what it is though. Like a giant turn off."
Xavier Darnai: A solemn nod was offered at her reiteration, one of agreement. Xavier was most definitely committed, and testing that dedication had cost a number of people quite dearly. It was a complication that would offer no benefit for any involved, and so he kept to his rule. He did not touch the art. "Intimidation. Passive as it may be, I can see how some might be put out by it. You're a rather strong woman, set in your ideals. There're plenty who simply aren't ready for the self sacrifice it'd take to try'n live up to the standards they're convinced you'd require. Idiots, the lot've'em." Closing his eyes finally, he raised his brows and shook his head slowly as he considered his own assessment of the others afraid to touch her. It wasn't that he believed her to be worth less than she might have valued her chance at company, it was that he was ashamed that no one had the courage to try and step up to her level.
Obvious Illusion: "It just makes for long nights and longer days. No skin off your back." She was pushing the thoughts deep. The feelings even deeper than that. She hated that she was weak and let the discord show itself upon her lips. So, she turned on a smile for him. She gave him a wink as she let her chin fall into a hand and she broke the moment by not saying anything more and pouring the creamer into her mug. She used the spoon to stir in the lighter liquid and the smile was kept plastered to her lips. "Yes, well, I suppose I don't simper and giggle and dress like my clothes are falling off. I don't stoop to cute nicknames or pretend to be stupid and in need of help for the simple things." No, the Toreador was indeed a breed of her own kind. "You are right. Just set in my ways." She murmured, bringing that cooler coffee up to her mouth now to drink.
Xavier Darnai: It would have been a lie to say there wasn't his fair share of girls she had described in Xavier's past, but they were never anything lasting. Used and discarded, much like they made themselves intended to be before he moved on to whatever was next. He had not always been so focused, so intense. Life as an addict could do that. "There's been plenty've skin off've my back over the years, but I take your meaning well enough. Seeing you at odds with yourself though, that's enough to leave me thinking you could use the distraction." And seemingly in more than one way. She missed the hunt of both kinds, it seemed, and though he was not her target, it was not beyond him to assist in her aim.
Obvious Illusion: "It's alright, Xavier. I don't need a wingman." She said that in the most kind of voice she could manage. It was almost comical, the way he said what he had. Even though he might have been slightly concerned, a suicidal vampire would have balked at the thoughts she was having. He wasn't privy to the blood and the gore, to the overzealous thoughts and the hateful propaganda her mind was spewing to the most hated organ in her body - her heart. Against, her shoulder rolled and she gave him a smile. "I can find my own fucks, I assure you. Chalk it up to being that time of the month." A wink was sent his way. Reader was blunt. She was sarcastic. She was needy. Above all, at times she acted before she thought things through and her mouth nine times out of ten lacked a filter. She was full of passion, aggression, lust, and determination. She put her spoon down upon the nearby napkin and managed a chuckle. "I lost hope a long time ago."
Xavier Darnai: "Mh." Little more than silent acceptance of her own condition, he raised his brows and gave a partial nod. The workings of the man that she was aware of seemed to be quite an expansive surface, but getting through that mantle may require nothing short of a miracle. Reserved in nearly every sense of the word, he lowered his foot to the floor from his knee before shifting his left up with the same quiet thunk. Idle hands had been gone over at length before, but more than anything was the little twitch in the back of his thoughts that brought out the appearances and memory of addiction. Once more he swept out a cigarette and brought it to his lips, flipping open his lighter as the bandaged thumb struck the wheel to ignite it in front of him. His eyes locked on that flame, staring at it as he drew in the first hit, exhaling swiftly after a midst the clapping noise of metal that put the fire in front of him out. Turning the cigarette over in his hand, he reached across the table with it, offering it to her before she might attempt to steal it from him.
Obvious Illusion: She took it. She took that offered cigarette from him with a murmur of thanks before opening her lips that at the beginning of their meeting looked tight and repressed. Now, they just looked full with their particular pout. She had thought of devious, dark things. She knew of alley ways and houses and lines of women and men for sale or use or needing a quick release. She had particulars in the past. Sex wasn't an issue. No, not at all. It was the psyche behind it, in truth. It was the need, the addiction, the demand that rankled up her nerves and twisted her heart. Of course, it was a heart she was planning on prying out of her chest one night and sitting it inside a glass box. She didn't need it. No, not anymore. The tools had been laid out meticulously within her bathroom. The bloodbath was going to be brutal. While she held that smoke inside of her, thoughts twisted - the past, the present - the holes, the crevices. No one cared. No one said a single thing. She knew her worth. The exhale came fast. Barely stuttered as the cloud of smoke whooshed up and towards the wall next to them. Quiet. Soundless. Some how, there was an understanding between them.
Xavier Darnai: It didn't help any that surely they could both hear the double-beat in his chest as he sat there, otherwise silent. Her muttered thanks was met with a simple nod as he rest his jaw in the palm of his right hand and watched her with the cigarette. Fingers framed his eye, resting against the bridge of his nose and temple as he studied her with it. While it was rare to catch him with an empty mind, there was no doubt that the look on his face now was one of calculation. The constant thought of his many chess games, moving pieces across countless boards with unspecified opponents. Something about her state seemed to have him focused on them for a moment. Xavier had many goals to accomplish, and the time frame for many of them was quite precious. There was no shortage of moves that could require a new strategy after, and he now had to face the possibility of a gambled piece.
Obvious Illusion: Everyone was broken. Everyone had pieces missing. Like a jigsaw puzzle, it was hard to see because all of the tiny, odd shaped pieces were never put together at once. Only then, one could see just how much of a fucked up board they were working with. She inhaled deeply, keeping to herself her thoughts. Oh, she was not stupid. No, not in the literal sense. She was aware - mostly, of those around her. She knew when the customers came and went using the facilities, when the waitresses came out with their ketchup bottles or their rolls of silverware. She noticed when the plates were delivered or when customers not quite around them came and went. She smoked. She pressed that cigarette tightly between her lips and she closed her eyes as she inhaled. It was a blissful ritual. It was a moment when perhaps all was right within the world. That one moment when no one was talking and nothing was expected of you and she knew exactly how fucked up her thoughts were. She was going to go home to an empty bed. She was going to go home to a house she made when she walked away from a man who had tortured her without, perhaps, even really knowing it. She was left, in more ways then one. She was left a long time ago to fend for herself and she had been doing just fine, since. She had regrets. Some. And in that moment, they all seemed to rile up - taunting and teasing her and chiding her for being difficult and having wants and ideals and not bending to another's expectations. The smoke curled out of her lips and she dipped her chin. The tension between them wasn't thick, no. It was just quiet. Like perhaps a couple that had known each other a long time instead of a short time like they had, who was long ago comfortable with silences. She reached out, tapped the ash off the cigarette and kept her other hand locked around the handle of that coffee mug. And there was a war going on inside of her.
Xavier Darnai: Missing pieces might have been a very apt way to describe the pair of them, though in truth it was a little as though someone had taken some pieces from a wide variety of puzzles to try and put the man's image together. Xavier was most definitely able to sit there in the prolonged silence as she smoked the cigarette he had offered, almost recording her habits and mannerisms like some documentarian. His ability to recall fine details had served him well in many tasks, but like so many other things there was an addiction behind it. The need to know, to catalog, to retain information that may one day be of benefit. Most of the information he had learned over the years had been without purpose, only managing to spring forward to the forefront of his attention when triggered by some other innocuous detail. From his perspective, the jigsaw was never complete, only waiting for its pieces to be of worth. Unclear intentions were Xavier's most common sort, and many people had grown weary of them. If Reader believed him to have any, she was unfazed by the thought, and that made her a piece worth protecting on his board. Pieces that could move without question were rare.
Obvious Illusion: Though Reader was not a robot, once her mind was made up about something - it was eventual and factual. The way that she held his cigarette was certainly something that did not even dawn on her; even if Xavier was captivated. She moved like she had always moved, semi-guarded and barely at ease and yet she looked like, in that moment, if she didn't have a care in the world. My, how two could play at the game of guarded thoughts and unclear motives; only Reader's could be clearly defined only be a few words. She didn't have her puzzle together. Or, maybe it was together, and she ripped it apart. She thrust the pieces into the box and shook until the matching edges were bent, broken, or ripped up. She didn't seem to have a care in the world some days. She'd step up, not caring if she'd take a bullet through the brain or some of Walker's foes would attempt to blow up his prized possession. She was a masochist at heart, to a point. Self-infliction versus bravery. Her eyes lifted, resting upon his face as she opened her lips to accept the end of the cigarette again. And she inhaled, sucking upon that cancer stick.
Xavier Darnai: Plans of action continued to play out through the back of his mind while the front of it intently remained focused on the woman across from him. Heavy handed movements would not serve this plan well, a touch of grace and patience would go much further towards the completion of the game. Their meetings had been chance more often than not, but that didn't seem to deter his attempt to study her, and on a few occasions he had even sought her out in part. In all the ways that he was a high profile target, she remained under the radar of attentions. It was a good balance -- so long as he was not needlessly followed by those that would interrupt for no appreciable reason. Occasionally he would glance away, watching the path between the booths and the bar, even if he made sure to keep her in the corner of his vision. Multitasking was not something that he had issue with, if he had then he never would have made it this far. Watching as the cigarette burned is way down at her own urging, he regarded the act, wondering what she may have derived from it. His own uses for the cigarettes were little more than window dressing at this point. His addiction might have manifested the action, but he knew now that a slight determination of will would have let him walk away from the artifacts of a life lost.
Obvious Illusion: Not everything was easy. Not everything had a reason. Sometimes, things just happened. Sometimes, things were pulled apart, plotted, planned, and meticulously organized. She exhaled. The smoke curled out from her nostrils as she pulled that smartphone from her pocket of her slacks. There was no new e-mail, texts, likes, or anything that could capture her attention. She simply looked at the calender, looked at the time, and made note that it was late but not too late. She let the screensaver darken the phone, then go completely black. With a deep breath, she tapped more ash to the tray. Soon, the cigarette would be over. She should leave him in decent company. He hadn't even had a drink or a meal yet. He was still watching her. She was still watching him. At that point, she inclined her chin and arched a brow his way. "Not hungry?" The silence was broken. The topic at hand was different. The discussion had turned once again that night.
Xavier Darnai: "Can't say I've had much've an appetite as've late, for somewhat obvious reasons." When the subject change and words returned to their gathering, he dropped his hand from his face slowly, letting it rest against he table. Very little of his posture changed otherwise, his head remained aloft, his shoulder still leaned forward, and the way he sat kept his suit coat open exposing the button up and red tie pinned in place like a river running down from his neck. An idle and simple raise was present in his chest, the simple mimicry of breath that prevented him from looking so utterly devoid of humanity. Between the sound of breath and his heart beat, he could earn a second of doubt from most observers. He found it was typically enough. "And I do so hate to waste good Scotch."
Obvious Illusion: "Obvious reasons." Reader's brows knit together. She remembered the bottle he had shared. She remembered the late night, the ill sleep pattern. She remembered the burning in her chest and the hint of something long forgotten. Though the connection didn't ring deep, the realization was strong. She failed. She had failed in so many ways. Her eyes dropped back down now to the lukewarm coffee and she would pull one last time on the cigarette. Her eyes burned and her head throbbed and time seemed to be on her side that night. Her memory was for crap and her feelings teased her conscious like a tsunami against an undeveloped roll of old time film. "Tastes change." She said, perhaps, not because tastes changed at all. They just matured. She dropped her head completely now, the quick gathering of her brows hinting at a grimace but dutifully hidden by the long waves of that multi-colored hues of her brunette hair allowed her the moment to scrub her face as if scrubbing away the inadequacy of her tongue that night. "Hell."
Xavier Darnai: It was sheer will and strong memory that had allowed him to retain a taste for food and liquor, but even as he trained himself to hold a full meal he found it difficult to do so for long. Unfortunately, the memory of taste worked both ways, and what he could taste on the way down was still something he had to remove. Already an abomination of life in so many ways, he was not so willing to continue to cheat nature, but he had no desire to tempt the return of his dinner this evening. With a slight nod as she seemed to process her memory, he watched her return to the natural conclusion. The illusion of humanity was one that Xavier worked very hard to maintain, but the decorative mask was indeed a mark of the fiend. "Overrated."
Obvious Illusion: She shook her head. Of course, she straightened. She was growing tired. The night had been long. It had been, in truth, emotionally draining. With her fingertips running over her hair, combing it back from her face, she still had that look about her that was aloof yet perplexed. She reached for her purse, pushing the coffee towards the edge of the table away from her so that she too wouldn't knock it off or bump the ashtray with it. "I think I should be going." She murmured, fishing out her wallet and opening that gigantic manifold. It had zippers and compartments and it was nearly as twice as big as her hand alone. She set a twenty on the table and sat back, just perhaps trying to take it all in and digest what was ahead of her. His company had been welcomed. "Thank you." She said to him again. Perhaps, it was just enough to know he was there.
Xavier Darnai: Recognizing her intent from the way she shifted in the seat wasn't so difficult. As she moved to pay he gathered his cigarettes and lighter, carefully leaving the booth and standing at the end of it. "A pleasure as always, Reader. I've grown rather fond've our little encounters." It had not been his intention to stay at the diner so late, but it was probably for the best. His other plans had not been so pleasant. Buttoning his suit jacket, he pulled the heavy long coat off of the table, sliding it on over his shoulders. "If you tire've flying without, let me know. I hear married men make for the best wingmen."
Obvious Illusion: "Ditto, Xavier." She gave the man a bright smile. It didn't reach her eyes, but the smile in and of itself was slightly reassuring. "How am I supposed to get laid if everyone thinks I'm with you?" She chuckled softly, leading the way out of the diner. Her steps were slow and unhurried, even if she had paid her bill and was securing her purse over her shoulder. She took the keys from her pocket, played with those sunglasses, and had slipped the phone away. "I'll be sure to give you all the details." She was teasing him, of course. No need to give him the details. She was art. Art didn't speak.
Xavier Darnai: "I simply make it look like I'm paying attention to everyone but you. Should be more than enough to bring some stalwart would-be rescuer about." With a smirk, he straightened out his jacket and followed along. There was no push to try and open the door for her, he was certain she could handle it herself. Natasha got a nod as he slipped out behind the woman, sliding his hands into the pockets of the coat. "I'll be holding my breath in anticipation." A bit of a grimace was offered as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Obvious Illusion: "Don't be an asshole." She chuckled underneath her breath. Something in her eyes looked sad though. But it was just for a moment. Just for a blink of an eye as she whirled her head to the side so her eyes could glance over her shoulder at him. She held the door open so it didn't crack him in the face. "Yeah well. That's how all my dates go." Maybe it was a tease. Maybe it wasn't. She started to walk towards that tiny parking lot with him.
Xavier Darnai: Down the walk, around the corner, and into the alley lot, he simply looked to her sideways with a raised brow, shaking his head. "Shame, Reader. I find it very difficult to avoid paying attention to you. Twenty years ago I'd've taken every possible advantage. But I'm not sure you'd've liked me as much." As much as he hated what he had become, he was quite aware that he had once been an incorrigible hound.
Obvious Illusion: "Oh, I don't know, Xavier. I might have had a better last two decades with you than the ones I had on my own." She chuckled, sliding her hands around the straps of her purse. She gave a bit of a shrug and a wink to the man that she on purpose - bumped into. "We could have had all sorts of kissing, necking, public groping, hot dirty sex. I mean, c'mon. There's a -lot- I could have maybe avoided if I knew you back then." She just grinned, trudging towards her SUV.
Xavier Darnai: Steady as always despite the mid-walk collision, he carried on, turning his head towards her a bit more. "Maybe you'd've liked me more than I'd thought." She certainly had the proper attitude for it. Quite crass in his younger days, much to the dismay of quite a few, he had a habit of making people uncomfortable around him at points. To his credit, a fair portion of it had to do with the rather strong belief that he hadn't survived an accident, and spending far too much time in the bottom of a bottle. "There's no doubt that the world'd be a very different place now if we had."
Obvious Illusion: "Ain't that the fucking truth. I might not be an angry, raging bitch who gets sex once a night instead of maybe once every six months." She snorted. Yes. She. Snorted. Stopping at her car, she leaned enough to open the drivers door and toss her stuff on the passanger seat. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to him. "You could have saved me a lot of heart ache and a lot of anger." She huffed, reaching up to grab the lapels of his coat, to dust them off one would say. "But, that's okay. We all have our own fuck ups to account for."
Xavier Darnai: "Wouldn't make any guarantees on that." Sparing people heartache was not something that seemed to be high on his list of priorities at any point in the last twenty years. Still, he looked to the Bishop for a moment before glancing back to Reader. "No rum sunrises. I'll be rather cross with you if you do."
Obvious Illusion: She just smiled at him. She smiled at the man that brought her a little beautiful moonlight in the dark skies. He deserved a good life. With a wink sent his way, she looked ever mischievous. Of course, it was a look that meant she wasn't making any promises. "It's a good thing you don't know where I live then, bucko."
Xavier Darnai: There was a click of noise out of the corner of his mouth as he tisked lightly. "Here I thought you had a better idea've exactly what it was I do." Grinning, he just shook his head slowly. "Though it's not as if I've had you followed. No, that's something stalkers do." He found amusement in their game of teases, even if it was particularly cruel to one of them. Perhaps that was what made it so interesting though. It was true; he did fit among the ranks of the bloodline, even if no one would ever admit to it.
Obvious Illusion: "So, if I don't show up for a few days you'll what? Come looking for me?" She arched a brow at him, grinning. Of course, the estate she had was well guarded. Not by people, but by electronics. Though, if he was as good as he said he was, then her system was probably obsolete in his eyes. A gate and wires couldn't keep him out of her house. Then again, it wasn't the front door she feared. No, it was something much greater. But - ties had been broken. She had walked away. Time had moved on. She wasn't important anymore to others. They both drank blood for a living. It was just how the body absorbed it that was different to them.
Xavier Darnai: A couple of steps took him to the right side of the Bishop, and opening the door there he stripped off his heavy coat, tossing it onto the passenger's seat across the center console. "Suppose that we will cross that particular bridge when we've come to it, neh?" One more grin was offered before he undid the button of his suit coat and slid down into the white leather seat. "Goodnight, Reader. I've no doubt I'll see you again soon." Closing the door, he obscured himself behind the pitch black glass. A moment later the car softly hummed to life as he pulled back and skillfully reared his way out of the lot and onto the street.
Obvious Illusion: "Goodnight Xavier." Her smile left her face slowly. He had no idea the darkness inside her head. It was alright. It should pass. If it didn't, then that was her cross to bear. She climbed up into that vehicle, sank into the plush leather seats and started it. There was a deep breath that was let go of. Teeth bit into her lower lip until blood formed and her fangs punctured flesh. But, she pulled out and drove the opposite way. She always calmed behind the wheel. She drove until she punched numbers in at her gate and she was behind that metal; secured only from the ones who didn't play with time.
Xavier Darnai: The last few days had left him vaguely aimless, a period of time between operations could do that. There were a few concessions to be made regarding an old friend, and those had been handled. Still, as he made his way in to the diner, he gave Natasha a nod. The man was dressed well, as was typically the case for public consumption, charcoal suit, red tie, white shirt, all the markings of a professional gentleman. Over it all was the rather nice looking heavy winter coat, worn despite the summer weather. Held carefully in his right arm was a black box made of leather with a silver lock on the front. Passing the hostess station, and the common area, something caught his attention as he set the box down, slowly turning towards the booths and spotting Reader there. Noting the dressed down nature, but the improved tone in her cheeks, he moved to join her. Stripping off the heavy coat, he folded it over his arm neatly before setting it on the table. His suit jacket was next, unbuttoned against his chest before he slid into the seat and quietly stared at her across the table. She looked peaceful in a way, despite the distracted state she seemed to be in. "I have to admit this's a bit unexpected."
Obvious Illusion: "I'm sorry." It rushed out of her mouth as if she had been holding onto it for days. It perhaps had toiled within her brain, sending her back and forth with guilt or conviction. It had peeled from her lips in such a way that she was almost embarrassed in the very nature that he had seen her. Self-destructive, yet not. Debased, yet not. Her mind had shut off, the hunger for something completely out of the ordinary she found only in refuge with her passion. Falling into other people's make believe worlds were pretty. They were painless. They were pretty much a fail safe mechanism in which a panic or boredom stricken mind fell into. With all of that lustrous, thick hair surrounding her shoulders, she lifted her chin to look at him. Those dual colored eyes blinked as if she were afraid to miss reading his face. "You shouldn't have seen me like that." She normally would have been bunkered down safely within her own home, but the anxiety of the past had caught up with the realization of the future and her mind shut down, simply sending her to the favored bookshelf. Only - she had one stashed in her purse. And once she started, she couldn't stop. So she swallowed tightly, knowing that eating was a fruitless effort so she set the fork down quietly upon the plate and pulled her coffee closer.
Xavier Darnai: "Don't apologize. No point to it." It was quick enough, but without any bite to it. Xavier assessed, rarely did he feel the need to judge. Judgement required a level of removal that he did not believe was possible despite his very rampant disconnection. Still, at her second admission, he could only raise a brow. "You're going to need to be a touch more specific than that, love. I've seen you lots've ways, telling me I shouldn't've seen you in any particular state's sort've missing the proper detail." Sitting back, he crossed his leg over his knee, resting his right angle there with the muted thunk before setting his right arm down against the surface of the table. Fingers drummed idly, little more than a muscle twitch as he watched her in silence. He could have made a guess about what she meant, but he had no interest in playing darts in the dark over it.
Obvious Illusion: "Detached." Reader simply murmured. Where she was holding the coffee mug between her fingers now, the residual warmth ran over the long digits. She gave a haphazard roll of her shoulder as those dual eyes fell from his face to the table. She reached for the sweetener and the creamer. She started tearing those tiny little packets open one by one and dumping them into the blackness. No, she shouldn't have seen her like that. Reader had many faces. She had many moods, but that was one that no one deserved to see. The utter ignorance she guessed. The constant and if not blatant ignoring of others. She had, in a way, retreated into her own self at that time - barely giving way to anyone else's presence. Reader was not a social creature. She hated groups. She hated crowds. She thrived in a more intimate setting. So, she opened her lips. "At the park. That." She was just a bucket full of words that night.
Xavier Darnai: No short measure of irony was present considering her explanation. Seeming detached was hardly something he considered to be detrimental, doing so would require him to be ignorant of is own actions. Further, it was not how he would have put it himself. "Focused." A simple contradiction and suggested correction to her own self assessment. "I've seen it before, used to it really. Sort've goes with the territory've the people that I've been required to deal with over the years." Tilting his head slightly to the side as he looked her over, watching how she tore through the paper to add sweetness to a concoction that served no further purpose. His familiar quarter of a grin was on display for the briefest of moments if she had bothered to look. "Besides, sort've like a statue, really. Couldn't say how long I'd stopped to look at the sculpture on display. Perfect placement, that, such a thing in the middle've a park, unable to regard the world about outside've its own existence."
Obvious Illusion: "Is that what you'd have called it? Focused?" Reader lifted her chin, stopping the pouring of cream to look at Xavier. She almost looked perplexed. She almost looked as if she didn't believe him. But, of course, there was a little shake of her head. There was a little bit of tension that let the line that had become her lips sulk into a bit of a pout. It was, after all, as if she were remembering things of the past. It was a cruel memory. The grimace was quick as she picked up the spoon that resided upon the nearby napkin and sunk it into the depths of the cup. She swirled it, bringing the blackness of the coffee to it's favored milky look. "Then at least you weren't completely out of your element. At least you just let it go." Had he, let it go, that was? Had he just walked away from her? Sure, she recognized him. But in her own way, she couldn't stop. She couldn't lift her eyes from that book for too long or engage with the man that she watching her. She let go of a held breath, looking almost ever so briefly insecure - or angry - or relieved all at once. Perhaps, that was because he didn't sit there and lecture her like she had once been. In her darkest memories, she still wouldn't be free.
Xavier Darnai: "That's what it could've been called." Rust red eyes kept focused on the mirrors of her sunglasses without bothering to look at his own reflection. Generally he had little interest in it; some might say that could explain the wild nature of his hair -- that or a lack of brushes. Almost as if he was staring beyond the reflective surface, he kept watch on her, straightening his head again after a moment. "Can't say anyone's ever been one to say I'm the sort to let anything go..." Trailing off for a moment, he reached into the suit jacket to begin the ritual of habit that revolved around the nicotine addiction he was also known for. So many things that seemed to be affectations, masks and red herrings. The lighter was set down on the bar for the moment as he slid one of the cigarettes free. "...then again, I do know when it's appropriate to move on to the next task, whatever it may be." Pinning the cylinder between his lips, the worn nickel lighter with the embossed red star was taken up in his left, flipped open, and struck to life as his eyes focused on the fire in front of him.
Obvious Illusion: "I suppose that is a good notion to live by. Always moving onto something more. The next challenge, one would say." Although, Reader never had too much of a challenge in front of her. She didn't police the intergalactic skies. She didn't go hunt down the wrong-doers of the world. She didn't get herself involved in any big schemed drug smuggling or illegal activities to fight crime or have something much to look forward to. She led a life. She led an immortal life that had begged for attention. Her lust for the typical had not paired well with someone that needed adventure. She didn't. Dropping her chin, there really wasn't much more to say. She lifted the coffee to her lips and drank. She could, for some reason, digest liquids. Solids were a bit more tricky, but that was perhaps because her bloodline had been one to always overcome the deadened disgust. Blood tainted was almost good enough, after all. She licked her lower lip, let her elbows rest on the table top, and simply looked to be mulling something over.
Xavier Darnai: Only a brief moment longer passed as he stared at the dancing fire before he was able to take in that first hit, slapping the lighter shut and dropping it onto the pack of cigarettes in front of him. Xavier's eyes closed and his brow lift in moderate acceptance of her response. Exhaling slowly, his right shoulder lift just slightly in a partial shrug. "Works out well enough for some. Others aren't so fortunate." As his eyes opened again, he glanced to the end of the table briefly, noting the waitress there and shaking his head just once. He wouldn't be taking anything from the menu tonight. "Speaking've living on, you're looking well comparatively." She had been pushing herself it seemed, and to be fair she had not been alone in that venture, Xavier just happened to be able to hide his own fasting with a touch more ease.
Obvious Illusion: "I get daily deliveries. Sometimes I don't want them. I want ... the real deal. The authentic meal. So, I have a hard time. I teeter back and forth. I fall. But, I get right back up and have that particular drink once again." She murmured to Xavier. She let her breath go. She sipped more of that coffee as she looked down at her glasses. She had set them there, that migraine had been reduced to a nagging ache behind her eyes. She needed. She had such a terrible desire. There with her shirt tucked into her slacks and those wedges on - not the typical Prada adorning her feet, she shrugged. "Thank you, though. You look mighty fine yourself, Sir." She smiled to him, and in that smile there was just the hint of realization that she was feeling so much.
Xavier Darnai: A certain ideal rang heavily in her statement, the want and need for the real thing. It had been so long since any of that had measured, and yet still in the back of his head he could recall such similar cravings. For quite some time he had been convinced that there were certain things he simply could not live without, things that he needed to get him through the day. When that darkness finally came, though he had traded one addiction for the other, the nagging remained. He knew so very well what she was going through, that need for the real thing. Even still there was no sign of empathy, or even sympathy as she spoke, he simply took another hit off the cigarette before reaching for the tray to discard the gathered ash. "I do try to keep up appearances." The smoke spilled out as he spoke, letting his brow bounce just once. "I've heard that fresh caught game's always preferable, but to be honest I can't bring myself to spot the difference. Suppose this's how vegetarians've always felt. Ironic, that."
Obvious Illusion: "It's a feeling sometimes. It's the way that it makes you ... part of yourself. It makes you thankful that you've been productive. That you can treasure the feast in a way you couldn't if a glass had been set before you of the finest wine and yet you weren't the one to crush the grapes to know the fruit of your own labor." It was difficult to understand, but Reader hoped that analogy could resonate. She took a deep breath - inhaled the smoke, a poison, and relished the wonderful scent as she added another creamer to her mug and stirred slowly. The Claclank against the mug was certainly enough gentle sound to caress her ears. "I wonder if I wasn't selfish enough. If I didn't demand enough. If I just couldn't have been enough. Too focused on... what? I don't understand. Missing... parts. Just not the right type." She chuckled, almost to herself. "I always pick through my mistakes. Never get many answers. I don't like being lied to. Sometimes, I don't like the mystery. I don't like the feeling that someone is pulling the wool over my eyes or playing tricks just to keep something fresh. Be straight with me. Why is it so hard for some people just to be ... real?" She was turning the conversation in a different direction. Perhaps, it was because she knew she couldn't continue on the same path she was.
Xavier Darnai: Her question was targeted at perhaps the worst possible person to provide an answer that could objectively be called genuine. Years of studying people had given him quite a severe number of talents, among which was being exactly who he needed to be in any given moment. It was exceptionally possible that there was no one who knew the real man. Even he had been unsure about it on more than one occasion, though the results of such an incident typically involved body bags. Still, he looked at her a moment, drawing in a partial breath after exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke. "Because no one wants to be the person they are in front've anyone else, they're afraid've the possible results. Abandonment, hatred, sorrow, pity, violence, doesn't matter. It's not in anyone's nature to just be themselves, only to be the person they're convinced the person across from them wants. Narcissists're the ones who've learned to be true to themselves, because all they want is what they see in the mirror. There's no mask to'em. Downside's that they don't give a shite about anyone other'n themselves either." Shaking his head once, he took another hit off the cigarette, exhaling slowly. "Don't think've'em as mistakes, Reader. That's a perfectionist's game, and it ends poorly, because nobody's good'n proper perfect."
Obvious Illusion: "They lied to me." That was all she said. That was all she could perhaps fathom. It is what made it easy to walk away. Lies. She hated lies. She hated the front that people put up. She hated not knowing where she stood with others. Granted, this really truly didn't involve the man sitting next to her. She knew he was a master at illusions. This was about the others. Her past. What she left behind and perhaps who she left behind. But, par for the course, the man was right. It was a game. And she seemed to roll a shoulder. She seemed almost broken down. Perhaps, she always reflected after those estranged moods of hers. She always wondered what she did wrong. That she was the cause of not even her misfortune - no, she didn't look at it like that. She was the cause of her solitude. There was a shake to her head as she lifted the mug to her lips again. "Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should have worn a mask all along."
Xavier Darnai: "Everyone lies. Typically to themselves more'n anything else." Reaching over to the tray after one final hit, he snuffed out the cigarette, crushing it under the weight of his fingers before he leaned his weight against the edge of the table. The left arm-- so meticulously bandaged beneath the sleeve of his shirt and suit jacket --left a thump in its wake before he pressed his weight to it so gently the table wouldn't so much as creak. "The trick's to know they're lying. Water's not the solution for every acid, sometimes something just as vicious's the only counter. If you can take their lies for what they are, then there's no reason for the self loathing." A subject he was very well versed on, himself. "You've got your masks, Reader, you try to hide what you worry about, and whom. A quiet measure of arms length and apathy. Nothing wrong with it really, works well enough for me I can say."
Obvious Illusion: Just not the right fit. Feelings change. People change. Situations change. She knew all these things that she'd stroke over her memory to soothe the pain of rejection. No, not even that... abandonment. Fighting. Screaming. Yelling. Anger. All these things broiled under the surface and they spilled over time to time. She'd love to be home, curled up on her couch or sinking herself through the water of that oversized pool. However, she indulged in her need for a bit of companionship; plus the needed apology - in her mind. She gave a bit of a huff, sad to say his cigarette was finished and she looked briefly around for the waitress for a warm up on her coffee. Fingertips tapped the rim of the ceramic cup now. "Yeah. I guess we all have our masks. We all have the need to be someone we aren't every once in a while. Damage control to ourselves." She supposed... that was the extent.
Xavier Darnai: "That'd be one way to put it." Watching her huff and noting the brief glance to the ash tray, he leaned back a bit and settled his weight against the cushioned booth. Lifting his right hand, he curled fingers against the side of his face as she requested the top-off in her silent way. "There's a certain melodrama to a person who's so obviously depressed and already dead." It was a quiet statement, and generally pointed out something he typically only alluded to at best. It seemed to behoove him to only imply, or let others infer what he might have been speaking of when it came to that behind the veil. There was no denying that the masquerade was important to the man, in ways that many of their own kind could never understand. "Though I don't think that attempting to do yourself in'd be a fitting answer."
Obvious Illusion: "People always deceive. They are good at deceiving." She looked to him briefly, of course, it wasn't hard to do. The man was made of metal, electronics, flesh and blood and bone and he was still oh so very handsome. He wore a suit like a supermodel wore lingerie on those winged commercials and it drove her to want to peel it away from him. Of course, only in her fantasies - he was married and he was intimately aloof. Reader never held that against him, though. Men like that were to be respected and she just drove forth onto the next bit of game. A gamble, perhaps. She let her body relax against the cushioning of the booth and finally she flagged down a waitress. Regular coffee, the smell of it alone warmed her insides as she began tearing those sugar packets again. "I didn't figure you for depressed." Perhaps it was a tease. Of course, she frowned a bit next at his final words. "No. I only ever considered that once. Nothing like taking a bottle of rum upstairs onto the roof and drinking it while one waited for the sun to rise." That, though... Was when Daniel had torn her heart out. With his timedoor ability and his scientific facts. He hurt her. He more that bruised her. She never ... quite recovered from that. Even an apology didn't make it better.
Xavier Darnai: He had not truly been out of touch with the concept of sexuality in quite some time, but his discipline on the subject was very clear. Touching the art typically came with a price, often one paid in pain. The teasing retort at the theory of his own depression was let pass with a touch of a smirk, Xavier often could take as well as he was able to give, but when her face seemed to shift with the weight of his true intentions his eyes locked on the woman. Free handed truth weighed in her voice, and her chosen method had some poetry to it. "I've no doubt everyone has their own self contingency plan in theory, and I'm sure there're plenty who'd be rather jealous've your pyre. It'd be a bloody shame to lose such a lovely piece've art." After all, he had proven that he could watch her in silence for quite an extended period of time, and all she had to do was be enthralled by a book.
Obvious Illusion: "Is that why no one wants to touch me? Because I'm art?" As if, by their touch, she'd degrade. She'd quake, crumble, and be no more. Her last lover had recoiled from her, fear sunk into him by a man that couldn't even bring himself to touch her much less tolerate her. To be threaded together by such superficial lies of love, she wondered now if any of it was true. She had ... given up her immortality briefly for him, and he still looked at her with a sliver of disgust in his eyes. She, in return, in that moment, squeezed her own briefly shut. She brought her hand up, rubbing at the bridge of her nose as she laughed it off underneath her breath with a chuckle. The creamer was eyed, but yet to be dispensed from the tabletop into her mug. "It comes and goes, the bittersweetness of death. The relief. I thought there would be relief in it. That one doesn't have to live with loss anymore. Made to look a fool and all." Reader didn't truly take that lightly. After all, no one that she used to know came to call for a visit except perhaps Walker or Nicholas. She thought about excising her own heart. To remove the organ that someone once had a hold of. In truth, it was poetic. However... It was almost disgusting to live with something that someone else had their hands on. Forgiveness wasn't Reader's strong .. suit.
Xavier Darnai: "You think I don't want to touch you." A single brow rose as he regarded her. He could have spoken to her thoughts of relief from their condition, but in truth there was nothing he could say to her about it that he was certain had not already played through her own head. Still, he stared for a moment. "You think that lack've want is the restraint that binds my hand. That I would not take every opportunity to trace each line, each mark of the chisel and curve of cool stone. Oh no, love. Want is not the issue." Rust red eyes remained locked on her as he took in the sight of her form, the curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell, the slender neck and her shoulders, even with that vaguely slumped posture as she let the booth surround her. He watched her as a forger would study a masterpiece, preparing their own recreation of the work in their own mind. Unblinking, unfazed, he did not look away until he had traced every visible line of her over the table, and even a piercing gaze as he reconstituted what was hidden from memory. When he was done, his eyes returned to hers and waited there, still unblinking.
Obvious Illusion: "I don't know what to think." Which, was almost whispered with a hostile tilt to her words. It was more irritation than not. She brewed need. She brewed want. She cut it down, shoving it deep at all times. He was a mended part of a whole and that still didn't matter. It was something that brought together her tortured conscious. It was something that caused desire to be craved within her. She might not have shut it off. She might have even spoken about it. She might have even of touched him. It was, in truth, because she couldn't help herself. Reader was a very physical creature that had denied herself for such long periods of time that her restrained need to manifestations in bitch-mode. She smirked a bit. No, it curved into a smile. She tilted her chin up, watched him looking at her. He could see his eyes so ever intent to make out every change in her facial features and then some. "You already are committed." She finally, smiling. Because it was a noble thing. Because that alone was to be respected. She would be damned if she broke that record again. "I don't know what it is though. Like a giant turn off."
Xavier Darnai: A solemn nod was offered at her reiteration, one of agreement. Xavier was most definitely committed, and testing that dedication had cost a number of people quite dearly. It was a complication that would offer no benefit for any involved, and so he kept to his rule. He did not touch the art. "Intimidation. Passive as it may be, I can see how some might be put out by it. You're a rather strong woman, set in your ideals. There're plenty who simply aren't ready for the self sacrifice it'd take to try'n live up to the standards they're convinced you'd require. Idiots, the lot've'em." Closing his eyes finally, he raised his brows and shook his head slowly as he considered his own assessment of the others afraid to touch her. It wasn't that he believed her to be worth less than she might have valued her chance at company, it was that he was ashamed that no one had the courage to try and step up to her level.
Obvious Illusion: "It just makes for long nights and longer days. No skin off your back." She was pushing the thoughts deep. The feelings even deeper than that. She hated that she was weak and let the discord show itself upon her lips. So, she turned on a smile for him. She gave him a wink as she let her chin fall into a hand and she broke the moment by not saying anything more and pouring the creamer into her mug. She used the spoon to stir in the lighter liquid and the smile was kept plastered to her lips. "Yes, well, I suppose I don't simper and giggle and dress like my clothes are falling off. I don't stoop to cute nicknames or pretend to be stupid and in need of help for the simple things." No, the Toreador was indeed a breed of her own kind. "You are right. Just set in my ways." She murmured, bringing that cooler coffee up to her mouth now to drink.
Xavier Darnai: It would have been a lie to say there wasn't his fair share of girls she had described in Xavier's past, but they were never anything lasting. Used and discarded, much like they made themselves intended to be before he moved on to whatever was next. He had not always been so focused, so intense. Life as an addict could do that. "There's been plenty've skin off've my back over the years, but I take your meaning well enough. Seeing you at odds with yourself though, that's enough to leave me thinking you could use the distraction." And seemingly in more than one way. She missed the hunt of both kinds, it seemed, and though he was not her target, it was not beyond him to assist in her aim.
Obvious Illusion: "It's alright, Xavier. I don't need a wingman." She said that in the most kind of voice she could manage. It was almost comical, the way he said what he had. Even though he might have been slightly concerned, a suicidal vampire would have balked at the thoughts she was having. He wasn't privy to the blood and the gore, to the overzealous thoughts and the hateful propaganda her mind was spewing to the most hated organ in her body - her heart. Against, her shoulder rolled and she gave him a smile. "I can find my own fucks, I assure you. Chalk it up to being that time of the month." A wink was sent his way. Reader was blunt. She was sarcastic. She was needy. Above all, at times she acted before she thought things through and her mouth nine times out of ten lacked a filter. She was full of passion, aggression, lust, and determination. She put her spoon down upon the nearby napkin and managed a chuckle. "I lost hope a long time ago."
Xavier Darnai: "Mh." Little more than silent acceptance of her own condition, he raised his brows and gave a partial nod. The workings of the man that she was aware of seemed to be quite an expansive surface, but getting through that mantle may require nothing short of a miracle. Reserved in nearly every sense of the word, he lowered his foot to the floor from his knee before shifting his left up with the same quiet thunk. Idle hands had been gone over at length before, but more than anything was the little twitch in the back of his thoughts that brought out the appearances and memory of addiction. Once more he swept out a cigarette and brought it to his lips, flipping open his lighter as the bandaged thumb struck the wheel to ignite it in front of him. His eyes locked on that flame, staring at it as he drew in the first hit, exhaling swiftly after a midst the clapping noise of metal that put the fire in front of him out. Turning the cigarette over in his hand, he reached across the table with it, offering it to her before she might attempt to steal it from him.
Obvious Illusion: She took it. She took that offered cigarette from him with a murmur of thanks before opening her lips that at the beginning of their meeting looked tight and repressed. Now, they just looked full with their particular pout. She had thought of devious, dark things. She knew of alley ways and houses and lines of women and men for sale or use or needing a quick release. She had particulars in the past. Sex wasn't an issue. No, not at all. It was the psyche behind it, in truth. It was the need, the addiction, the demand that rankled up her nerves and twisted her heart. Of course, it was a heart she was planning on prying out of her chest one night and sitting it inside a glass box. She didn't need it. No, not anymore. The tools had been laid out meticulously within her bathroom. The bloodbath was going to be brutal. While she held that smoke inside of her, thoughts twisted - the past, the present - the holes, the crevices. No one cared. No one said a single thing. She knew her worth. The exhale came fast. Barely stuttered as the cloud of smoke whooshed up and towards the wall next to them. Quiet. Soundless. Some how, there was an understanding between them.
Xavier Darnai: It didn't help any that surely they could both hear the double-beat in his chest as he sat there, otherwise silent. Her muttered thanks was met with a simple nod as he rest his jaw in the palm of his right hand and watched her with the cigarette. Fingers framed his eye, resting against the bridge of his nose and temple as he studied her with it. While it was rare to catch him with an empty mind, there was no doubt that the look on his face now was one of calculation. The constant thought of his many chess games, moving pieces across countless boards with unspecified opponents. Something about her state seemed to have him focused on them for a moment. Xavier had many goals to accomplish, and the time frame for many of them was quite precious. There was no shortage of moves that could require a new strategy after, and he now had to face the possibility of a gambled piece.
Obvious Illusion: Everyone was broken. Everyone had pieces missing. Like a jigsaw puzzle, it was hard to see because all of the tiny, odd shaped pieces were never put together at once. Only then, one could see just how much of a fucked up board they were working with. She inhaled deeply, keeping to herself her thoughts. Oh, she was not stupid. No, not in the literal sense. She was aware - mostly, of those around her. She knew when the customers came and went using the facilities, when the waitresses came out with their ketchup bottles or their rolls of silverware. She noticed when the plates were delivered or when customers not quite around them came and went. She smoked. She pressed that cigarette tightly between her lips and she closed her eyes as she inhaled. It was a blissful ritual. It was a moment when perhaps all was right within the world. That one moment when no one was talking and nothing was expected of you and she knew exactly how fucked up her thoughts were. She was going to go home to an empty bed. She was going to go home to a house she made when she walked away from a man who had tortured her without, perhaps, even really knowing it. She was left, in more ways then one. She was left a long time ago to fend for herself and she had been doing just fine, since. She had regrets. Some. And in that moment, they all seemed to rile up - taunting and teasing her and chiding her for being difficult and having wants and ideals and not bending to another's expectations. The smoke curled out of her lips and she dipped her chin. The tension between them wasn't thick, no. It was just quiet. Like perhaps a couple that had known each other a long time instead of a short time like they had, who was long ago comfortable with silences. She reached out, tapped the ash off the cigarette and kept her other hand locked around the handle of that coffee mug. And there was a war going on inside of her.
Xavier Darnai: Missing pieces might have been a very apt way to describe the pair of them, though in truth it was a little as though someone had taken some pieces from a wide variety of puzzles to try and put the man's image together. Xavier was most definitely able to sit there in the prolonged silence as she smoked the cigarette he had offered, almost recording her habits and mannerisms like some documentarian. His ability to recall fine details had served him well in many tasks, but like so many other things there was an addiction behind it. The need to know, to catalog, to retain information that may one day be of benefit. Most of the information he had learned over the years had been without purpose, only managing to spring forward to the forefront of his attention when triggered by some other innocuous detail. From his perspective, the jigsaw was never complete, only waiting for its pieces to be of worth. Unclear intentions were Xavier's most common sort, and many people had grown weary of them. If Reader believed him to have any, she was unfazed by the thought, and that made her a piece worth protecting on his board. Pieces that could move without question were rare.
Obvious Illusion: Though Reader was not a robot, once her mind was made up about something - it was eventual and factual. The way that she held his cigarette was certainly something that did not even dawn on her; even if Xavier was captivated. She moved like she had always moved, semi-guarded and barely at ease and yet she looked like, in that moment, if she didn't have a care in the world. My, how two could play at the game of guarded thoughts and unclear motives; only Reader's could be clearly defined only be a few words. She didn't have her puzzle together. Or, maybe it was together, and she ripped it apart. She thrust the pieces into the box and shook until the matching edges were bent, broken, or ripped up. She didn't seem to have a care in the world some days. She'd step up, not caring if she'd take a bullet through the brain or some of Walker's foes would attempt to blow up his prized possession. She was a masochist at heart, to a point. Self-infliction versus bravery. Her eyes lifted, resting upon his face as she opened her lips to accept the end of the cigarette again. And she inhaled, sucking upon that cancer stick.
Xavier Darnai: Plans of action continued to play out through the back of his mind while the front of it intently remained focused on the woman across from him. Heavy handed movements would not serve this plan well, a touch of grace and patience would go much further towards the completion of the game. Their meetings had been chance more often than not, but that didn't seem to deter his attempt to study her, and on a few occasions he had even sought her out in part. In all the ways that he was a high profile target, she remained under the radar of attentions. It was a good balance -- so long as he was not needlessly followed by those that would interrupt for no appreciable reason. Occasionally he would glance away, watching the path between the booths and the bar, even if he made sure to keep her in the corner of his vision. Multitasking was not something that he had issue with, if he had then he never would have made it this far. Watching as the cigarette burned is way down at her own urging, he regarded the act, wondering what she may have derived from it. His own uses for the cigarettes were little more than window dressing at this point. His addiction might have manifested the action, but he knew now that a slight determination of will would have let him walk away from the artifacts of a life lost.
Obvious Illusion: Not everything was easy. Not everything had a reason. Sometimes, things just happened. Sometimes, things were pulled apart, plotted, planned, and meticulously organized. She exhaled. The smoke curled out from her nostrils as she pulled that smartphone from her pocket of her slacks. There was no new e-mail, texts, likes, or anything that could capture her attention. She simply looked at the calender, looked at the time, and made note that it was late but not too late. She let the screensaver darken the phone, then go completely black. With a deep breath, she tapped more ash to the tray. Soon, the cigarette would be over. She should leave him in decent company. He hadn't even had a drink or a meal yet. He was still watching her. She was still watching him. At that point, she inclined her chin and arched a brow his way. "Not hungry?" The silence was broken. The topic at hand was different. The discussion had turned once again that night.
Xavier Darnai: "Can't say I've had much've an appetite as've late, for somewhat obvious reasons." When the subject change and words returned to their gathering, he dropped his hand from his face slowly, letting it rest against he table. Very little of his posture changed otherwise, his head remained aloft, his shoulder still leaned forward, and the way he sat kept his suit coat open exposing the button up and red tie pinned in place like a river running down from his neck. An idle and simple raise was present in his chest, the simple mimicry of breath that prevented him from looking so utterly devoid of humanity. Between the sound of breath and his heart beat, he could earn a second of doubt from most observers. He found it was typically enough. "And I do so hate to waste good Scotch."
Obvious Illusion: "Obvious reasons." Reader's brows knit together. She remembered the bottle he had shared. She remembered the late night, the ill sleep pattern. She remembered the burning in her chest and the hint of something long forgotten. Though the connection didn't ring deep, the realization was strong. She failed. She had failed in so many ways. Her eyes dropped back down now to the lukewarm coffee and she would pull one last time on the cigarette. Her eyes burned and her head throbbed and time seemed to be on her side that night. Her memory was for crap and her feelings teased her conscious like a tsunami against an undeveloped roll of old time film. "Tastes change." She said, perhaps, not because tastes changed at all. They just matured. She dropped her head completely now, the quick gathering of her brows hinting at a grimace but dutifully hidden by the long waves of that multi-colored hues of her brunette hair allowed her the moment to scrub her face as if scrubbing away the inadequacy of her tongue that night. "Hell."
Xavier Darnai: It was sheer will and strong memory that had allowed him to retain a taste for food and liquor, but even as he trained himself to hold a full meal he found it difficult to do so for long. Unfortunately, the memory of taste worked both ways, and what he could taste on the way down was still something he had to remove. Already an abomination of life in so many ways, he was not so willing to continue to cheat nature, but he had no desire to tempt the return of his dinner this evening. With a slight nod as she seemed to process her memory, he watched her return to the natural conclusion. The illusion of humanity was one that Xavier worked very hard to maintain, but the decorative mask was indeed a mark of the fiend. "Overrated."
Obvious Illusion: She shook her head. Of course, she straightened. She was growing tired. The night had been long. It had been, in truth, emotionally draining. With her fingertips running over her hair, combing it back from her face, she still had that look about her that was aloof yet perplexed. She reached for her purse, pushing the coffee towards the edge of the table away from her so that she too wouldn't knock it off or bump the ashtray with it. "I think I should be going." She murmured, fishing out her wallet and opening that gigantic manifold. It had zippers and compartments and it was nearly as twice as big as her hand alone. She set a twenty on the table and sat back, just perhaps trying to take it all in and digest what was ahead of her. His company had been welcomed. "Thank you." She said to him again. Perhaps, it was just enough to know he was there.
Xavier Darnai: Recognizing her intent from the way she shifted in the seat wasn't so difficult. As she moved to pay he gathered his cigarettes and lighter, carefully leaving the booth and standing at the end of it. "A pleasure as always, Reader. I've grown rather fond've our little encounters." It had not been his intention to stay at the diner so late, but it was probably for the best. His other plans had not been so pleasant. Buttoning his suit jacket, he pulled the heavy long coat off of the table, sliding it on over his shoulders. "If you tire've flying without, let me know. I hear married men make for the best wingmen."
Obvious Illusion: "Ditto, Xavier." She gave the man a bright smile. It didn't reach her eyes, but the smile in and of itself was slightly reassuring. "How am I supposed to get laid if everyone thinks I'm with you?" She chuckled softly, leading the way out of the diner. Her steps were slow and unhurried, even if she had paid her bill and was securing her purse over her shoulder. She took the keys from her pocket, played with those sunglasses, and had slipped the phone away. "I'll be sure to give you all the details." She was teasing him, of course. No need to give him the details. She was art. Art didn't speak.
Xavier Darnai: "I simply make it look like I'm paying attention to everyone but you. Should be more than enough to bring some stalwart would-be rescuer about." With a smirk, he straightened out his jacket and followed along. There was no push to try and open the door for her, he was certain she could handle it herself. Natasha got a nod as he slipped out behind the woman, sliding his hands into the pockets of the coat. "I'll be holding my breath in anticipation." A bit of a grimace was offered as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Obvious Illusion: "Don't be an asshole." She chuckled underneath her breath. Something in her eyes looked sad though. But it was just for a moment. Just for a blink of an eye as she whirled her head to the side so her eyes could glance over her shoulder at him. She held the door open so it didn't crack him in the face. "Yeah well. That's how all my dates go." Maybe it was a tease. Maybe it wasn't. She started to walk towards that tiny parking lot with him.
Xavier Darnai: Down the walk, around the corner, and into the alley lot, he simply looked to her sideways with a raised brow, shaking his head. "Shame, Reader. I find it very difficult to avoid paying attention to you. Twenty years ago I'd've taken every possible advantage. But I'm not sure you'd've liked me as much." As much as he hated what he had become, he was quite aware that he had once been an incorrigible hound.
Obvious Illusion: "Oh, I don't know, Xavier. I might have had a better last two decades with you than the ones I had on my own." She chuckled, sliding her hands around the straps of her purse. She gave a bit of a shrug and a wink to the man that she on purpose - bumped into. "We could have had all sorts of kissing, necking, public groping, hot dirty sex. I mean, c'mon. There's a -lot- I could have maybe avoided if I knew you back then." She just grinned, trudging towards her SUV.
Xavier Darnai: Steady as always despite the mid-walk collision, he carried on, turning his head towards her a bit more. "Maybe you'd've liked me more than I'd thought." She certainly had the proper attitude for it. Quite crass in his younger days, much to the dismay of quite a few, he had a habit of making people uncomfortable around him at points. To his credit, a fair portion of it had to do with the rather strong belief that he hadn't survived an accident, and spending far too much time in the bottom of a bottle. "There's no doubt that the world'd be a very different place now if we had."
Obvious Illusion: "Ain't that the fucking truth. I might not be an angry, raging bitch who gets sex once a night instead of maybe once every six months." She snorted. Yes. She. Snorted. Stopping at her car, she leaned enough to open the drivers door and toss her stuff on the passanger seat. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to him. "You could have saved me a lot of heart ache and a lot of anger." She huffed, reaching up to grab the lapels of his coat, to dust them off one would say. "But, that's okay. We all have our own fuck ups to account for."
Xavier Darnai: "Wouldn't make any guarantees on that." Sparing people heartache was not something that seemed to be high on his list of priorities at any point in the last twenty years. Still, he looked to the Bishop for a moment before glancing back to Reader. "No rum sunrises. I'll be rather cross with you if you do."
Obvious Illusion: She just smiled at him. She smiled at the man that brought her a little beautiful moonlight in the dark skies. He deserved a good life. With a wink sent his way, she looked ever mischievous. Of course, it was a look that meant she wasn't making any promises. "It's a good thing you don't know where I live then, bucko."
Xavier Darnai: There was a click of noise out of the corner of his mouth as he tisked lightly. "Here I thought you had a better idea've exactly what it was I do." Grinning, he just shook his head slowly. "Though it's not as if I've had you followed. No, that's something stalkers do." He found amusement in their game of teases, even if it was particularly cruel to one of them. Perhaps that was what made it so interesting though. It was true; he did fit among the ranks of the bloodline, even if no one would ever admit to it.
Obvious Illusion: "So, if I don't show up for a few days you'll what? Come looking for me?" She arched a brow at him, grinning. Of course, the estate she had was well guarded. Not by people, but by electronics. Though, if he was as good as he said he was, then her system was probably obsolete in his eyes. A gate and wires couldn't keep him out of her house. Then again, it wasn't the front door she feared. No, it was something much greater. But - ties had been broken. She had walked away. Time had moved on. She wasn't important anymore to others. They both drank blood for a living. It was just how the body absorbed it that was different to them.
Xavier Darnai: A couple of steps took him to the right side of the Bishop, and opening the door there he stripped off his heavy coat, tossing it onto the passenger's seat across the center console. "Suppose that we will cross that particular bridge when we've come to it, neh?" One more grin was offered before he undid the button of his suit coat and slid down into the white leather seat. "Goodnight, Reader. I've no doubt I'll see you again soon." Closing the door, he obscured himself behind the pitch black glass. A moment later the car softly hummed to life as he pulled back and skillfully reared his way out of the lot and onto the street.
Obvious Illusion: "Goodnight Xavier." Her smile left her face slowly. He had no idea the darkness inside her head. It was alright. It should pass. If it didn't, then that was her cross to bear. She climbed up into that vehicle, sank into the plush leather seats and started it. There was a deep breath that was let go of. Teeth bit into her lower lip until blood formed and her fangs punctured flesh. But, she pulled out and drove the opposite way. She always calmed behind the wheel. She drove until she punched numbers in at her gate and she was behind that metal; secured only from the ones who didn't play with time.
