((Alain D'Mourir visits Izira Nyte at her home, The Fogotten Layers Inn, after finishing a case for her. Played out originally in IM.))

~

Alain showed up at Izira's inn sometime late in the morning, the slowest time for bars and inns - shouldn't be too surprising if there are no other patrons at all. A cloth-wrapped book in tow.

Izira's place was rarely busy anyway. Such was the case with being in a place that seemed to exist between places. The perfect inn for those lost and wandering. Or lost and lingering as the owner was. Given the time there would be no one about but her. Still the door opened for those who arrived there. The lights inside were dimmed low. The tables spread out before the door, booths to the side and a bar across the way. Towards the back right, where there sat almost a little chapel of a room, Izira sat under the lights softly playing the piano. An orange tabby cat was sitting on the bench near her. The two ravens perched high in their huge cage above her head.

He pauses, watching her... and then moves quietly across the room. Pulling up a chair nearby, taking a seat, balancing the book on his thigh... Letting her play, for now.

Eventually reaching the end of the song, she sighed... collecting herself and turned to offer Alain an apologetic smile. "Thank you for letting me finish."

He smiles gently. "It felt wrong to interrupt." He holds her gaze for a few seconds, and then looks down at the book. Fingering the cloth quietly, thoughtfully. "...I found your father."

The idea seemed to be too much for Izira to completely take in, she looked at what Alain held... a lump in her throat for what else Alain would have to share, still she tried to be jovial, "Don't suppose the two of you had much to talk about..." A weak smile, it was a pour joke... bad timing. She knew it. Silas, the large orange tabby flicked his tail in irritation from his spot on the bench.

Alain shakes his head. "I... saw to his care..." Watching her face again, one hand laid palm up on his knee while he talks to her. "...His name was Lief... he was Ny'Halian... fae-like elementals who live pretty far from the city."

She listened, then was quiet a moment, thinking... somewhere in her years of being shut away and reading there was some general information there... her face paled a little. "Then I still have no family." Her voice low, saddened. Silas' ear flicked. Izira's hands had been brought from the piano to her lap.

"...I see a few brothers and sisters..." His voice is surprisingly gentle, as his gaze flickers to her animal companions, then back to her. Offering the book over slowly. "This... may help you sort out your powers..." Two books, actually, wrapped up in there. One of them is a dilapidated library book on the Ny'Halian language - the linguist who studied them, naturally, ended up hating them.

A small nod, accepting the books into her care. Eyes glancing over the covers and pages as she drifted through the pages. Then keeping them in one hand the other went to take Alain's with a little squeeze. Another apologetic smile. "Forgive me, Alain. This can't have been the easiest request made of you, I should be more grateful. I do appreciate it."

He encloses her hand in both of his, slowly. Shaking his head. "I was just doing my job... and I know how important family can be." Tone still gentle and tender, the battered (but still not quite destroyed) human in his heart stirring with compassion.

She swallowed, looking down. "Yes." then quiet lingered a moment... "Your own must be very proud of you." She offered, hoping to take her mind away from her own sorrows onto something cheerful.

He pauses - he's made himself vulnerable through his compassion, and the usually stoic face betrays a flurry of emotions (uncertainty among them), before he finally speaks. "I'm not sure why... I was a rotten kid - but my mother was always very proud of me."

A soft smile, she set the books aside, putting her other hand over his two. "Mothers can be like that, even when you give them enough reasons not to be."

He grins slowly. "...I think she was the only one, other than my sister, Shannon, who just smiled at the trouble I got into." There's a soft chuckle. "Before I was even a teenager, I was kissing too many girls, skipping cotillion, and sneaking in after missing dinner..." A pause, then adding, "Shannon and our friend Amalia tried to keep me out of as much trouble as I got them into."

Izira's smile faintly found its way to her face, a soft chuckle at the thought of the trouble a teenager Alain might have gotten into. "Sounds like an interesting trio."

"Amalia's here in RhyDin... but..." He doesn't explain. "Shannon and I still see each other, sometimes..." He slips his hands from hers, finally. Rubbing them together slowly. "You want some coffee?" Whether or not she wants some, he's intent on a mug for himself.

"I'll get it." She stood, it was her place after all. Standing and moving towards the bar, she slipped behind and went straight to the coffee... looking through the selection. She picked something for them, setting it to warm as she took down a couple of mugs. "Do you take anything in it?"

Faint shake of his head, and, "I take it black." Still itching for a cigarette... hopefully the coffee will cure it... He's looking thoughtfully at the tattoo on his right hand now, though thinking of far more than just his family seal. Brow delicately knit.

Looking back over her shoulder to him, "Is... something wrong?"

He shakes his head again. "Just thinking." Always going with that defensive impulse to close himself off...

Pouring the coffee into two mugs, She spoke not facing him. "I won't pry, Alain... but... you do know quite a bit about me that no one else does."

He strokes the tattoo slowly, choosing his words carefully. Slight tilt to his head. "...There are a lot of things I wish I could go back and do better... There's little left of my family, and I didn't part ways with many of them on the best terms."

Bringing the coffee back to him, she handed him a mug. Still standing. Thinking about all her bad partings. She didn't want to lessen his though by making comparisons. "Tell me?"

"My mother and I, I think... are the only ones who parted well. She became ill and died when I was still young... but when she died, she was still proud of me." Shaking his head. "My father and I never got along. I didn't see him at all for six years... and I'm told he's dead now." Nursing his coffee quietly for a bit.

"I'm sorry Alain." Not knowing was indeed hard.

He breathes out a slow sigh, and then shakes his head, slightly. "...I'm okay." Another sip of his coffee. "Shannon's alive - safe - that's what matters." Running his thumb slowly over the burn scars on his palm. He pauses again, thinking. "I wish I could have a family... you know. Start one of my own. ...But I can't. My lifestyle's too dangerous for it, but I can't give it up."

She smiled weakly at that. Hard to encourage someone when she had pretty much given up, locked herself up in an empty inn for ten years.

"If other people get a chance to go on living and start a family, pursue whatever dreams they have, on account of me..." He shrugs his shoulders slightly, and with another sigh, relaxes his posture again. Looking up at her. "Then it's worth it... isn't it?"

She didn't actually know if it was the right answer, but it was the best one. "It is." She nodded. Then moved to pet Silas, still on the piano. It was the best way to turn away a moment. He had helped her... but she wasn't really moving on, was she? She felt a failure at helping his life continue its purpose.

He hadn't meant her... but there's no way for her to know that. Worth it or not, he's still quiet and uncertain. Nursing his coffee. He shakes his head again. "Sorry to unload all of that on you... It was unfair of me."

Turning to face him again. "I asked. Besides. It's been a while since I've actually had any meaningful conversation with someone." A sigh, she sat back down on the piano bench. Silas hopping down and trotting off, tail in the air. She added, "Except maybe with Silas."

He smiles just a little at that, watching Silas move off. "I talk to Jean sometimes, but he doesn't speak English... and my French is terrible." Lame joke, but he grins anyway.

A smile, at least, at the joke, if not a laugh. Then looking away again.

"Has it really been... just you, all this time?" Looking over at her, curiously.

Softly. "Ten years." Not that she was counting.

His lips twist slightly. Another pause. "You think someday you'll be able to change that?" There's comforting him, sure... but the truth is what he's after. Eyes flicker to the book.

A sigh. "I don't know. The hopeful response would be, yes... but... sometimes I feel beyond hope. I've done too much, hurt too many to deserve anything different." It wasn't said emotionally, just factually.

"I know how you feel," he admits, quietly. "But if you feel you've sinned... it's hard to repent when you're all alone."

"I don't know about repenting. It's just easier to keep myself from doing it again tucked away. This place found me, it knew my heart and brought me here... a place for things to be forgotten."

There's little to say to that. It was a path he'd considered... "...If you do change your mind... know there are friends for you in RhyDin." He finishes his coffee, sets the mug down.

A smile, she set her coffee down. Not really having touched it. "At least one then?"

"At least one." He puts his coat back on, tugging on the collar some, turning it up to ward off the cold. "Take care, Izira." He moves towards the door.

Standing and walking with him, she touched his hand as they neared the door. "You too, Alain." Her eyes upon his own.

He squeezes her hand when she stops him. His heart does a little leap, perhaps a leap of warning, but it does not linger. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Truly?"

He nods, slowly.

A swallow, she leaned the distance between them placing her lips against his own. It was not passionate, more a soft need.

He sucks in a breath when she moves, but only lets her fulfill that need for a moment. Turning his face away after that moment. "You know that..." Trailing off. You know that I can't? Maybe. For whatever reason, though he turns his face away, he did not back away nor did he push her hand in his away from him, maybe out of consideration for her.

She took her hand back, taking a step and turning away from him. Quietly. "I know..."

"Almost anything," he amends quietly, belatedly. Soft sigh breathed. "...Be well, Izira." He lifts his head to look at her... and leaves.

Izira didn't turn to watch him leave, or offer anything back. Just considered that she really knew how to chase away what few friends she could make.