Alain is seated already at a table in the little tea shop, enjoying a blend he just imported from Vrashne, doctored up with a little Reveler's Red Rum from the flask in his coat pocket. His feet are kicked up on the chair to his left, sleeves rolled to just above the elbows, his gaze downcast to a few books... A pen sits on the far end of the table, the button clicked into place, lending a strange obscurity to conversation as well as specific details from outside.
The winds swirl and whirl, under the loose seal of the door to the place, a miniature dust devil forming just on the other side of it. Heat, hot, deserty sand scent floats about the place, and suddenly Lix Tetrax walks towards Alain, blue jeans, boots, a snug black leather vest over nothing else. Her hair is up, piled atop her head in casual disarray, and she has on sunglasses and cherry red lipstick. She really is amazingly hot. She knows it, in that classic, elegant way of the woman who does not have to flaunt it or draw attention to it. It just is. She settles into the chair opposite him, and turns that lovely face to him. "I am here. On time." As if this proves something, somehow. With her, it likely does.
"Good," he says, pushing a cup of tea across to her. "Just in from another realm. DeMuer Exports. And speaking of House business..." Now's a very good time for him to start rolling a cigarette. "It's time I explained a little better House DeMuer's place in RhyDin, and why it's of such great concern to a pair of Fallen."
She looks down at the tea and a blonde brow rises up from behind the glasses. Slim fingers lift the cup up and she takes a slow, careful drink, deep blues watching him behind the shield of those dark glasses.
"I came to lead a House of my own in order to organize my resources better as I sought an alliance with House Onyx, itself run by several aligned... in a similar way to us." He flicks the lighter, draws the flame in to the end of his cigarette, and lets out a smoky sigh. "Dallying with Onyx and the other Blood Houses is what's gotten me tied up in the affairs of demons and on top of one of their hit lists... and I'm sure Kael had no small part in scheming to get me so involved... In any case, I can't be sure how the other Houses will react to my move to gather more angels to my own House, but I imagine not well -- and I imagine it's only a matter of time until they figure out, from the time the Angelic Arcana left the hands of the demon Howe to the time my knights delivered it to House Onyx, I had a copy made."
Blonde brows rise again, and she stiffens a bit, a line of tension altering those red lips. "Are you telling me..now!? That you are having some kind of war with other houses? Or are about to? I don't....we both don't...have the ability to deal with so many fronts if we are to deal successfully with the Archiect!"
He puts a hand up sharply as his eyes silver over again. "Not war - you misread me. I just wanted you to be informed that your reception by my allies may be... less than warm... but they will still remain our allies. Tools, if we play our cards very well, to be used against Howe, and against the Architect, and others like him I am sure we will encounter."
A slow breath twists out of her and she relaxes a little, though very slowly, holding that line of tension as her mind races, seeks other alternatives, whips and swirls around internally, trying once again to find some other solution than having to rely on Kael. And once again, she is left with nothing else. Jaw tightens and the fingers of her right hand rub her right thigh, where she let him pierce her with his blade. It has healed, though she can still feel that awful, burning, soul-ripping pain, in part, in aching shadow. All this hopefully hidden behind the dark glasses she still wears. A quiet question leaves her lips.
"These words do not leave this room," Alain replies, his tone becoming suddenly quite stern, showing more, perhaps, of Kael's side here. Dark and quick to ice over.
The blonde's eyes flicker for just a brief moment with something like fear, again, thankfully hidden by the glasses.
He leans forward and whispers some secret words to her, and adds, "He might frown at our methods, though not at our choice of enemies."
She had a feeling they would come in handy today. Kael can be a force to be reckoned with...especially once he has his full power back. She is not at all certain she can best him when that finally happens. She listens to his whisper, and then those blues widen dramatically. She stares at him, quite literally silenced.
Alain keeps his voice low, beyond any surveillance his own machinations might not otherwise have impaired, telling her of the politics of his House and House Onyx, and how such strange alliances between far-flung races and alignments could exist in this place - in RhyDin, the Crossroads, the Neutral Ground. It is a passionate subject for him, and his words even stir Kael a little closer to his own feelings on the importance of this city, its preservation...
She listens... doesn't she damn well have to listen? But his words make her think... make a new concept actually start to tickle and twist inside her, and slowly dawn into being. Birthed, and then breathing life, inside Lix's mind. His whisper began something new in the millenia-old Fallen. And then suddenly she gasps in air, a startled understanding coming to her. "No wonder... no bloody damned wonder he wants RhyDin. This... place. It lets the full spectrum exist together... actually... work together."
"And we can't let him have it, now can we," he says, more gently now, eyes softening into blue as he watches the understanding dawn in her face. In spite of the dark depth of this intrigue, his heart cannot help but sing watching the birth of such a miracle. "RhyDin, for all its chaos, really is something beautiful."
Disconcerted. That is the only way to describe her mind and manner now, at his softer tone, softer look. So strange. So weird. Surreal, even. And then she feels it... something like the dread and panic that the "good" sort felt, when they saw "evil" looming and beginning to encroach, beginning to seize what they should not have. Yet more disconcertedness swamps the Fallen. New concepts, new empathy, almost, for those she sought to drag down and destroy for so very long. She shakes her head, her face showing her discomfort and difficulty, despite the glasses. A manicured hand goes to her forehead and then drags fingers to her left temple. "This... this is... I don't...I don't like this..." She whispers the words... almost piteously.
"Kael understands how strange a new burden morality can be," Alain quietly replies, watching her with the guarded sort of concern that really is the only sort he shows any more. "...You work through the guilt, and you confront the worry. Thought turns to action, and you do everything you can." He rests his right hand in the center of the table between them, the tattoo with Kael's celestial mark and the scars that cover his palm completely, marring what must have once been a beautiful hand, if the left is any evidence.
She listens, still captive to that need, and not liking it one iota, by the way. She feels... strange and disconnected from the image she has of herself, has had for eons of time. Eyes settle on his hand, there on the table, and a strange, odd, alien desire to reach out and touch it seems to slither and rise inside her. She watches as her own pale, lovely hand slides out there... fingertips just barely brushing the side of his... he might note she shivers, as if too cold.
He captures her hand between both of his, and suddenly in the palm of his right, transferring to her hand, she can feel a pendant. By touch alone perhaps she can discern it is one of the necklaces that many House members wear, identical to Alain's tattoo. He squeezes her hand, though perhaps she can feel the lingering pain he feels when he does it - the ache of touching any woman after his fiancee's violent death. "In House DeMuer you'll find retribution... and peace."
She literally jumps, as his hands suddenly clasp hers. A soft exhale of breath leaves her, and she goes rigid. She cannot think of anytime that anyone has touched her that did not seek her body to slake their lust in. She cannot think of anytime that she has offered it to be touched in anything but that slaking. Slim, graceful fingers curl around the pendant and clutch it to her palm, and then she was suddenly yanking her hand free, breathing quickened. Not from lust but from sheer discombobulation, as it were. Eyes on his face, through shaded glass, lips unsmiling. His pain... it is like a lash across her newly awakened sensitivies. She does not want that...! And it makes her think of those she has hurt. With a cry of something indefinable, she abruptly stands and stalks to a window, looking out at something she cannot see, for internal gazing.
He breathes another long, smoky sigh as she jerks away, watching her go, then looking at a spot on the table... "...Give it time." He rises slowly from his seat, stretches lazily. "Penance takes time." He collects the pen but does not push the button quite yet, thumb hovering over it as he lingers not far from her...
"I've kept an ear to the rails, so to speak. There is a new assassin in town, formerly a direct agent of Hell and one of their best, and for a change, it's not me he's after... Pretty sure it's you. He'll be dealt with soon." Then he moves for the door.
She gives a jerky nod, but then whips around to face him. Fighting it all. Angry. "Why? Why should I even have to do penance?" But then his words make her suck in a breath. "What...? Then you better stop him!"
Alain stops at the door and looks back at her. Forces a slow grin. "Don't worry... We do this kind of thing all the time." Then he exits.
She is left staring after him, that sense of the surreal rising up to grab her by the throat and shake her again. Or so it feels. With a sudden cry of frustrated angst, she suddenly swirls into hot air and then is gone.
The winds swirl and whirl, under the loose seal of the door to the place, a miniature dust devil forming just on the other side of it. Heat, hot, deserty sand scent floats about the place, and suddenly Lix Tetrax walks towards Alain, blue jeans, boots, a snug black leather vest over nothing else. Her hair is up, piled atop her head in casual disarray, and she has on sunglasses and cherry red lipstick. She really is amazingly hot. She knows it, in that classic, elegant way of the woman who does not have to flaunt it or draw attention to it. It just is. She settles into the chair opposite him, and turns that lovely face to him. "I am here. On time." As if this proves something, somehow. With her, it likely does.
"Good," he says, pushing a cup of tea across to her. "Just in from another realm. DeMuer Exports. And speaking of House business..." Now's a very good time for him to start rolling a cigarette. "It's time I explained a little better House DeMuer's place in RhyDin, and why it's of such great concern to a pair of Fallen."
She looks down at the tea and a blonde brow rises up from behind the glasses. Slim fingers lift the cup up and she takes a slow, careful drink, deep blues watching him behind the shield of those dark glasses.
"I came to lead a House of my own in order to organize my resources better as I sought an alliance with House Onyx, itself run by several aligned... in a similar way to us." He flicks the lighter, draws the flame in to the end of his cigarette, and lets out a smoky sigh. "Dallying with Onyx and the other Blood Houses is what's gotten me tied up in the affairs of demons and on top of one of their hit lists... and I'm sure Kael had no small part in scheming to get me so involved... In any case, I can't be sure how the other Houses will react to my move to gather more angels to my own House, but I imagine not well -- and I imagine it's only a matter of time until they figure out, from the time the Angelic Arcana left the hands of the demon Howe to the time my knights delivered it to House Onyx, I had a copy made."
Blonde brows rise again, and she stiffens a bit, a line of tension altering those red lips. "Are you telling me..now!? That you are having some kind of war with other houses? Or are about to? I don't....we both don't...have the ability to deal with so many fronts if we are to deal successfully with the Archiect!"
He puts a hand up sharply as his eyes silver over again. "Not war - you misread me. I just wanted you to be informed that your reception by my allies may be... less than warm... but they will still remain our allies. Tools, if we play our cards very well, to be used against Howe, and against the Architect, and others like him I am sure we will encounter."
A slow breath twists out of her and she relaxes a little, though very slowly, holding that line of tension as her mind races, seeks other alternatives, whips and swirls around internally, trying once again to find some other solution than having to rely on Kael. And once again, she is left with nothing else. Jaw tightens and the fingers of her right hand rub her right thigh, where she let him pierce her with his blade. It has healed, though she can still feel that awful, burning, soul-ripping pain, in part, in aching shadow. All this hopefully hidden behind the dark glasses she still wears. A quiet question leaves her lips.
"These words do not leave this room," Alain replies, his tone becoming suddenly quite stern, showing more, perhaps, of Kael's side here. Dark and quick to ice over.
The blonde's eyes flicker for just a brief moment with something like fear, again, thankfully hidden by the glasses.
He leans forward and whispers some secret words to her, and adds, "He might frown at our methods, though not at our choice of enemies."
She had a feeling they would come in handy today. Kael can be a force to be reckoned with...especially once he has his full power back. She is not at all certain she can best him when that finally happens. She listens to his whisper, and then those blues widen dramatically. She stares at him, quite literally silenced.
Alain keeps his voice low, beyond any surveillance his own machinations might not otherwise have impaired, telling her of the politics of his House and House Onyx, and how such strange alliances between far-flung races and alignments could exist in this place - in RhyDin, the Crossroads, the Neutral Ground. It is a passionate subject for him, and his words even stir Kael a little closer to his own feelings on the importance of this city, its preservation...
She listens... doesn't she damn well have to listen? But his words make her think... make a new concept actually start to tickle and twist inside her, and slowly dawn into being. Birthed, and then breathing life, inside Lix's mind. His whisper began something new in the millenia-old Fallen. And then suddenly she gasps in air, a startled understanding coming to her. "No wonder... no bloody damned wonder he wants RhyDin. This... place. It lets the full spectrum exist together... actually... work together."
"And we can't let him have it, now can we," he says, more gently now, eyes softening into blue as he watches the understanding dawn in her face. In spite of the dark depth of this intrigue, his heart cannot help but sing watching the birth of such a miracle. "RhyDin, for all its chaos, really is something beautiful."
Disconcerted. That is the only way to describe her mind and manner now, at his softer tone, softer look. So strange. So weird. Surreal, even. And then she feels it... something like the dread and panic that the "good" sort felt, when they saw "evil" looming and beginning to encroach, beginning to seize what they should not have. Yet more disconcertedness swamps the Fallen. New concepts, new empathy, almost, for those she sought to drag down and destroy for so very long. She shakes her head, her face showing her discomfort and difficulty, despite the glasses. A manicured hand goes to her forehead and then drags fingers to her left temple. "This... this is... I don't...I don't like this..." She whispers the words... almost piteously.
"Kael understands how strange a new burden morality can be," Alain quietly replies, watching her with the guarded sort of concern that really is the only sort he shows any more. "...You work through the guilt, and you confront the worry. Thought turns to action, and you do everything you can." He rests his right hand in the center of the table between them, the tattoo with Kael's celestial mark and the scars that cover his palm completely, marring what must have once been a beautiful hand, if the left is any evidence.
She listens, still captive to that need, and not liking it one iota, by the way. She feels... strange and disconnected from the image she has of herself, has had for eons of time. Eyes settle on his hand, there on the table, and a strange, odd, alien desire to reach out and touch it seems to slither and rise inside her. She watches as her own pale, lovely hand slides out there... fingertips just barely brushing the side of his... he might note she shivers, as if too cold.
He captures her hand between both of his, and suddenly in the palm of his right, transferring to her hand, she can feel a pendant. By touch alone perhaps she can discern it is one of the necklaces that many House members wear, identical to Alain's tattoo. He squeezes her hand, though perhaps she can feel the lingering pain he feels when he does it - the ache of touching any woman after his fiancee's violent death. "In House DeMuer you'll find retribution... and peace."
She literally jumps, as his hands suddenly clasp hers. A soft exhale of breath leaves her, and she goes rigid. She cannot think of anytime that anyone has touched her that did not seek her body to slake their lust in. She cannot think of anytime that she has offered it to be touched in anything but that slaking. Slim, graceful fingers curl around the pendant and clutch it to her palm, and then she was suddenly yanking her hand free, breathing quickened. Not from lust but from sheer discombobulation, as it were. Eyes on his face, through shaded glass, lips unsmiling. His pain... it is like a lash across her newly awakened sensitivies. She does not want that...! And it makes her think of those she has hurt. With a cry of something indefinable, she abruptly stands and stalks to a window, looking out at something she cannot see, for internal gazing.
He breathes another long, smoky sigh as she jerks away, watching her go, then looking at a spot on the table... "...Give it time." He rises slowly from his seat, stretches lazily. "Penance takes time." He collects the pen but does not push the button quite yet, thumb hovering over it as he lingers not far from her...
"I've kept an ear to the rails, so to speak. There is a new assassin in town, formerly a direct agent of Hell and one of their best, and for a change, it's not me he's after... Pretty sure it's you. He'll be dealt with soon." Then he moves for the door.
She gives a jerky nod, but then whips around to face him. Fighting it all. Angry. "Why? Why should I even have to do penance?" But then his words make her suck in a breath. "What...? Then you better stop him!"
Alain stops at the door and looks back at her. Forces a slow grin. "Don't worry... We do this kind of thing all the time." Then he exits.
She is left staring after him, that sense of the surreal rising up to grab her by the throat and shake her again. Or so it feels. With a sudden cry of frustrated angst, she suddenly swirls into hot air and then is gone.