Throne of Oak, Ash and Thorn (closed for Poprockz)

[wanna_be]

The night is cold. Dark, heavy clouds looming overhead promise rain. Narrow, paved streets seem to stretch long into the distance and a cold wind whistles down them, driving icy knives into every inch of unprotected flesh. It is a thoroughly inhospitable night, but that doesn't stop the city. The city never sleeps. Some streets remain quiet and empty, while others roar with the chaos of the night. A deep pulsing beat fills one, chatter another. Everywhere there are bodies moving under the cold light of the streetlamps.

It is into one of these streets that she flees, blindly, out of control. She moves extraordinarily quickly for someone wearing heels, displaying a natural grace despite her clear panic. It takes refusal from the bouncer of one club for her to calm down. There is no sanctuary in the street, no dark corner to hide in, they all seem to be concealed within the clubs that line the edges of the street. Forcing herself to calm down she walks to the head of the next queue she sees, dropping a bill into the black clad bouncer's hand as she strides commandingly inside. The man barely even notices the money, so transfixed is he by the vision that has just glided past. He certainly doesn't notice the three shadows that pass by him just a moment later.

The club is heaving, tightly pressed bodies raising the temperature to just a little above complete comfort. The dance floor is crowded, men and women pressing their bodies even more tightly together than the crowds demand. Pounding music drowns out everything in this area, and the blonde woman is halfway across the space when she is stopped abruptly by a hand on her elbow. She turns in panic only to discover yet another drunken reveller, a tall man in a plaid shirt and jeans with glazed eyes.

"Why the rush baby?"

She snatches her arm away and turns to keep going, but is stopped by a fist.

"Hey…" The man slurs from above, "I was just talking to the…"

His voice is cut off soon after, the meaty sound of flesh on flesh somehow rising above the pulsing beat.

Aelsbeth is cornered. She slowly gets to her feet, realising that while there is now space around her on the dance floor, that isn't any comfort. Arranged in a loose circle around her are the three that had followed her into the club. The big man that had stopped her is hunched over at the edge of the space, one hand covering his broken nose and the other clutching between his legs. Everyone else has backed away.

Forcing down the panic that rises in her, Aelsbeth draws herself up to her full height. She's taller than two of her pursuers, with only the apparent leader of the group having a few inches on her. He had a hand in his pocket, and she was sure there was a weapon there, but even the Unseelie wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal arms in front of this many humans. All three were wearing glamours, good ones. Maybe if she can break them she could use the panic to escape into the crowd.

She raises a hand, the counter-enchantment rising to her lips. She's only a few words into it when she's kicked in the back of the knees. A cry of pain breaks the spell she is weaving, and the gathered magic is gone as fast as it had arrived. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

The voice that responds is cold and empty. There is no room for mercy or remorse in a voice like that. "There's no mommy and daddy to protect you now princess."

The princess in question only has a moment to process what that means before her body descends into pain. The three might not be willing to use weapons in front of all these humans, but they will quite happily beat her to death in the middle of a club. Eventually a boot connects with her head, snapping it back.

Aelsbeth's world goes dark.

 

[Poprockz]

"Are we feeling good tonight?! Yeah? I want you to raise your cups to DJ B-Sharp visiting from Las Vegas! Let's show him how the people of this city paaaarty!" The charismatic woman onstage pumped her fist upward and the crowed cheered, many of their own fists going up in response.

She was dressed like a pirate captain, complete with a large hat with a long red feather tucked into it. Her long-sleeved blouse looked a bit loose and flowing, but it certainly was not this way in regards to her ample cleavage. Her long leather boots reached a couple inches above her knees, Her tight, black leather pants tucking into her brown footwear. An extravagant red captain's coat adorned her, accented with gold thread that matched the gold hooped earring on her right ear.

"I love you, Vivian!" was screamed from someone in the crowd, causing her to wink in that direction, her red lips going closer to the microphone.

"My first love is the sea." was the reply she gave, though her tone was unmistakably flirtatious. She knew it was a pretty vague and cliched response, but she liked being a bit elusive.

There was a rope tied to the stage that hung from the ceiling on a track that one could use to swing from one end of the room to the next, and she used it now. With a running start, she jumped up to the rope and let the force of her body take her above the crowd, swinging to the other end near the bar.

After settling there, she watched with a satisfied expression as the DJ took over, working the crowd up as the music continued. The nightclub was called "Sea Salt," and it was an ocean-themed club. They generally liked doing the pirate theme, but occasionally they would mix it up by having a mermaid, sailor, or underwater theme. It was one of the most successful clubs in town, and it was all hers. While some clubs ran to make more and more profit over time, she had played it a bit differently. All of the profit after operation costs and the cost of living were put into improving the club's design, menu, and music. Once it was just how she liked it, she then began to use some of her profits, while keeping the majority in savings.

A pretty little thing passed her by, and she watched her make her way quickly through the crowd. Afterwards as she turned to move to the bar, a couple of guys brushed past her in the same direction, one of them bumping into her. She scowled, watching them trail the girl at the same rushed pace. Vivian walked to the bar and gave the bartender her microphone, then unzipped her small pack at her right hip. Two brass knuckles were taken out and put on, though she didn't necessarily intend to use them.

When she spotted one of them and made her way over, she was shocked to see them kicking the shit out of the woman, the poor girl already out cold. It was obvious they had no intention of stopping, so she didn't even give them a warning. She was tall and strong, but most importantly, she was quick and vicious. One of them reeled as a knuckled fist made contact with the side of his head, his legs suddenly kicked out from under him as he fell back. The other two looked up just as she whipped around and punched one in the gut to distract, then uppercutted him hard in the jaw. Vivian then moved behind him and kicked him hard in the back of the knee.

Her green eyes flashed at the remaining one, this one now prepared for her. She moved as though she was going to go straight for the throat, and then at the last minute she ducked his oncoming fist and punched him straight in the junk, causing him to go to his knees. By that time, several of her bouncers had caught wind of what was going on and had come to her aid.

"Take their pictures and throw them the fuck out. I don't want to see their faces in here ever again," she commanded, wiping her knuckles off on her pants and putting them back in her little pack. She sighed, looking down at the girl on the floor before crouching down and scooping her limp body into her arms. The woman wasted no time in heading backstage, using a thumb-scanning device to unlock the door.

It closed and locked behind her as she carried the girl down the stairs, depositing her on a wooden table to get a better look. She was bleeding from her nose and had many bruises and cuts. It was possible she had a concussion and a few broken bones, but she couldn't do anything about those at the moment. She took out her first-aid kit and started cleaning her up, starting with the nose and moving to other parts of her body.

This was an HR disaster. No, this was a legal disaster. Vivian scowled, tucking a lock of her long black hair behind her ear as she continued. She needed to be there when she woke up and needed to get her word that she wouldn't be going to the police about this. If they found out that she used a pair of brass knuckles on a few of her guests, the local news would have a field day. Not to mention that she could sue the club for damages. Vivian was more than happy to cover her medical expenses as long as this stayed fairly under wraps.

 

[wanna_be]

Aelsbeth is surprised to find that she is still in pain. The Seelie avoided necromancy, and as such had little understanding of what came after death. Still, she'd assumed that death would come with an absence of pain. Pain seemed to be associated with nerve endings and she hadn't thought the soul had a lot of them. Perhaps this was punishment, punishment for disobeying her parents, for leaving the court on this night of all nights.

Her parents

She sits bolt upright, they'd mentioned her parents. They'd said they couldn't protect her. She was an embarrassment, she knew that much. They'd even threatened to disown her, but she'd known they never would. The only thing that would stop them would be…

So she's not dead…

They are.

Unbidden tears reach her eyes before she realises where she is. Or isn't, as a matter of fact. She doesn't know this place, it certainly isn't the club, and she doesn't know the woman that's currently stood beside her. She scrambles back, attempting to put distance between herself and this potential assailant as soon as possible.

It turns out there is only so much table before that surface runs out and she tumbles to the floor. She handles this fall with a little more grace than her awakening, abruptly rolling to her feet and raising her hands. Magic gathers around her fingers, the cantrip coming automatically to her lips before she realises that the woman before her is mortal. Either that or wearing a glamour far beyond her abilities to pierce.

Her jaw hangs loosely, flapping in an attempt to get normal words out. Everything hurts. There's a deep pain in her stomach that speaks to internal damage, not to mention the numerous aches and soreness that seems to permeate the rest of her body.

"Who… who are you?"

As to the image she presents, her glamour, unbeknownst to Aelsbeth, has dissipated. She stands before the mortal in all her actual form. Her ears are sharp, pointed. Her hair shines with an unnatural lustre and her features are almost impossibly sharp. She's tall, and slim with it, her form lean in a way that most humans would find impossible to achieve. She's certainly not the same figure that Vivian had carried downstairs only a few minutes ago. Her eyes are inhumanly large, made all the more clear by her fear, their hue a striking violet that certainly doesn't match up with any colour found in normal humans.

 

[Poprockz]

"HOLY SHIT." Vivian practically leaped backward as the girl sat straight up like some kind of possessed creature, the girl panicking and falling off the table. It might have been comical if the situation were different.

She watched the girl get to her feet and wince, holding up her hands and mumbling unintelligible words as her fingers started to glow. Vivan's eyes widened, taking in the girl's different appearance. She had been so focused on treating the wounds that she hadn't been paying attention when the glamour had faded and revealed her true form. She looked like a fairy, but... not like a human pretending to be a fairy. This was different, and she could feel in her gut that the girl was unlike anyone she had met before.

However, that being said, it still didn't occur to her that she was anything supernatural. In this day and age, a lot could be accomplished with the right plastic surgery, colored contacts, and hair dye, and the glowing could be explained with maybe some kind of trick used to intimidate people. Though Aelsbeth had looked different before, Vivian was starting to doubt her own memory, thinking maybe she just hadn't been paying attention. She held her hands to the side in an open gesture, trying to show her that she wasn't going to be making any moves toward her.

"Woah, woah, woah. Calm down, I'm Vivian. I'm the owner of the club and we're in the basement. I saw those guys kicking the ever-living shit out of you and thought I'd clean you up. I really don't care if it was some kind of drug deal gone wrong, or if you swiped something of theirs, but we should probably keep what happened private, if you get my drift."

 

[wanna_be]

Aelsbeth didn't finish the cantrip, but she held the energy in her fingers. It was a simple trick for one of her skill, a few words and a flex would see the spell deployed, but this woman didn't seem hostile. Try as she might Aelsbeth could sense no magic from her, no scent of sorcery. Perhaps she really was what she said she was. She could see no reason why someone powerful enough to hide their true nature would put this much effort into deceiving her.

She drops her hand, the glow fading from her fingers, flowing out and fading as the power is returned to its natural place in the world. Clearly the woman thinks that what she saw was simply a dispute between two normal humans. She had feared that she had been another assassin, beyond that she had feared a human that had seen what she should not. Judging by the reaction of the taller woman, she had…

Iron…

Aelsbeth recoils, finding her retreat blocked almost entirely by the wall behind her. Even so her shoulders work as though she is trying to burrow into the thick material. She's grown accustomed to the presence of iron in mortal society over the years. Most of them seem to carry it upon their person in one form or another, mostly in keys. This woman is carrying a preponderance of the material however, and Aelsbeth can feel its presence.

"Don't… I…"

She raises her hands again, though no spell comes to mind, she's too blinded by the weight of the metal against the fabric of reality. She can't retreat anymore, and her hands become that of a supplicant, held out in a gesture of surrender.

She wants to escape, and can see only one route from where she is standing. A few feet behind the woman is a set of stairs. It has to be the way out, has to be. She can't feel where she is, can't feel the nearest doorway, can't feel anything except that damnable iron.

"I need to get out…"

She takes a step forward, towards the door, and unwittingly towards the woman and her iron as she speaks. If she had been uninjured she might have held it together. With the head wound, the various other contusions and impacts that have been inflicted upon her she stands no chance. On her second step she collapses, going down hard. It will be hours until she regains consciousness.

 

[Poprockz]

Vivian watched as the girl was obviously confused and frightened; maybe she really did have a concussion. She seemed like she didn't quite understand what had happened nor what was going on. Before she knew it, the girl started to look faint and said a few confused things before collapsing. She rushed over and checked her pulse, making sure she had a steady beat before picking her up again. The girl was mostly clean now, so she figured it would be best to put her in a more inviting place: her bedroom.

She set the girl down at the edge of the bed for a moment before arranging the pillows as a make-shift slanted backrest. The girl was then re-situated against it so that she was laying in a reclined way. The covers were then pulled up over her to keep her warm before Vivian walked out and closed the door. Her hands went to massage her temples as she sighed, worried about whether the girl was going to be alright.

She took off her boots and her little pack, hanging it and her large hat up on a hook near the door of the basement. Once that was done, she walked back over to the room and sat in the corner, hoping to be there once the girl regained consciousness once more. Several hours went by, and eventually she fell asleep in the plush armchair. Her breaths were soft, her chest slowly rising and falling as she waited.

 

[wanna_be]

Consciousness comes reluctantly as Aelsbeth claws her way up from the darkness. This is no abrupt awakening like earlier, more a slow process, though hardly steady. Grogginess seems to ebb and recede in fits and starts, eventually she gathers enough of her wits about her to force herself upright. It's slow going, pushing through air thick as molasses to eventually reach the vertical.

Her head hurts, and she puts a hand to it as she looks about the room she is in now. It's a bedroom, clearly, well appointed. The covers that have been pulled over her are soft and warm, while the many pillows piled behind her make her want to simply drop back into the comforting embrace of sleep. She resists its tempting fingers as her gaze passes over the room, eventually coming to rest on the woman asleep in the corner.

The uncertainty of the iron has been removed, and without it Aelsbeth can inspect her host in more detail. The woman is wearing tight leather pants, heavy brown boots and a blouse that certainly doesn't undersell her in the bust. A heavy gold ring hung from one ear, and the coat she is wearing gives her the distinct appearance of a pirate captain. Aelsbeth had actually been alive when such clothes were fashionable in the navy, so it wasn't even totally alien to her.

Eventually she regains enough of her strength to think about moving. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she drops soundlessly to the floor. Carefully she pads up to the woman, making barely a sound, even in her groggy state she moves with the kind of grace most dancers would kill for.

The woman's breathing is soft, regular, clearly she is asleep. Aelsbeth is almost completely sure she isn't a threat, although now she is also very aware of the fact that her apparent saviour is mortal. At least she doesn't yet know…

She catches her own reflection in the mirror, then swears in her native tongue. Her glamour is gone. She can't even perceive the remnants of it. It could have been gone for hours. Her large eyes fall back upon the woman before her. She must already have realised that Aelsbeth isn't human.

Looking around the apartment, she tries to identify an escape route. Her eyes alight upon the main door, visible from this angle, but as she steps towards it her attention is drawn to the small pack beside it. The iron isn't so close to the portal that it would prevent her passage, but it's close presence still makes her hiss in discomfort.

Apparently loudly enough to wake the woman in the chair.

 

[Poprockz]

Vivian had been having sweet dreams of bodies intertwining, whispers and pants of desire. A faceless partner that she somehow knew intimately well touched her, teased her, moaned her name as she returned the favor. Whether the form was a man or woman, she didn’t know, nor did it matter to her. All that mattered was the dream and the foggy realization of pleasure.

This came to an abrupt close when she heard a feminine hiss. Her eyes snapped open and her head turned in the direction of the sound. It would seem that the injured woman was attempting to leave the safety of the basement. She looked a lot more stable on her feet which was a blessing, especially since they wanted to avoid her falling and injuring herself even more.

“It’s a bit rude to leave without saying goodbye, don’t you think, sweet pea?” Vivian stood up from her chair and slowly sauntered toward the door of the basement, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe in front of the stairs. It was clear that she was blocking it on purpose, but her stance still indicated that she had no intention of physically engaging in a fight.

Her emerald-green eyes looked Aelsbeth up and down, the shock of her physical “modifications” having worn off for the most part. Whoever had put her under the knife had done an exceedingly good job, as the girl was very cute. Vivian smiled and waited for a reply, the music of the club barely audible above them. She had put extra care in sound-proofing the basement, not only for the club music, but also for how loud it could be down there if she had a guest in her bedroom.

 

[wanna_be]

The woman's posture seems to indicate no threat, but she has still placed herself awfully close to the bag that Aelsbeth is now certain contains the iron she can feel. The blonde woman hesitates, unsure of how to continue. She's rarely in a situation like this, usually arrogance, bluster and her rank can carry her forward. This woman seems entirely comfortable with the idea that she has a high ranking member of the Fae Court imprisoned in her home.

Not having someone immediately cow to her true form puts Aelsbeth on the back foot, that uncertainty is reflected in her face as she takes a half step back. The woman must be able to see her true form, yet she seems unbothered. Either she knows exactly who Aelsbeth is, and doesn't care, or she's stupid. The Fae princess' prejudices place the green-eyed woman firmly in the latter camp, and she sniffs dismissively, doing her best to look down on the taller woman. She's surprisingly good at that gesture for such a slight figure.

She's weak, still recovering from the events of only a few hours past, but even so she has enough magic to lace a considerable compulsion into her words as she speaks. Not that she needs it, even without magic her tone carries all the chill and arrogant pride of a prince of hell. "Do you understand what you're doing mortal?"

The compulsion is a simple one, she hardly has the wits about her to perform anything more subtle. It isn't helped by the intolerable presence of the iron, but it should be enough to inspire fear in the human in her way. Either that or anger, not that Aelsbeth is considering the possibility of failure at this point.

 

[Poprockz]

Those words, they had a certain tone to them that made her want to take a step back. It was like the girl was putting every ounce of of authority into making her question sound threatening. It almost seemed like she glowed as she said it, heat coming off of her.

However, Vivian didn't come this far in life that she would be cowed or intimidated by some small woman who looked like one could break her in two simply by looking at her wrong. She had crawled through shit and broken glass to stand on the stage of her own club, and she would be damned before she backed down from a challenge from some little squirt. Besides, she couldn't get over how ridiculous those words had been. Her gaze met those violet eyes head-on and she drew herself up to her own intimidating height, the air tense between them as the slight sound of music continued in the background. Her eye brow twitched for a moment and the corners of her mouth threatened to curl.

Suddenly, she burst out laughing, hunching over and holding her sides. Her eyes watered and her stomach started to ache. "Jesus! What are you, some rich kid? Do people pretend that what you just said doesn't sound fucking ridiculous?" She continued laughing for a moment or two before she caught her breath, straightening up and wiping her eyes.

"Whew! Anyway..." her expression settled into a smile, but there was a sharpness to her eyes.

"Listen up, girly. Not half a day ago, I watched a couple guys taking their boots to your skinny little ass hard enough to fuck up a full grown man. I happened to step in and get them all off of you due to my big, bleeding heart. Now, you have the gall to spout weird shit at me? You would have died." She paused for a moment, letting that sink in before continuing.

"I'm more than happy to let you walk out this door so you can go out and get yourself fucked up all over again. However, before you go, I want you to sign a few forms for me that say you won't be suing my club, that you won't come back, and that you won't be posting any defamation of this place on your social media. Do that little thing for me, and I'll let you run back home to your parents or whoever it is who enables your selfish attitude."

 

[wanna_be]

Aelsbeth has no idea what to do, she is faced with a situation that hasn't crossed her path, not once in two hundred years. The human woman is laughing at her. Not an uncomfortable laughter that betrays fear either, but a genuine guffaw, as though Aelsbeth had just told the most amusing joke in the world. Her jaw is slack as she finds herself unable to process the quite literally jaw dropping disrespect she is faced with.

The thought that this woman doesn't know who she is only just registers at the edge of her thoughts, but reason went out the reason a long time ago and her pride is speaking now. The fae have always been known for her pride, and royal blood hasn't added any humility to Aelsbeth. She feels the anger rising in her, a hot fury bubbling in her chest until…

Until those words…

Her parents…

There's no mommy and daddy to protect you now princess.

She feels her legs quiver, stepping to the side with an uncustomary clumsiness. "Club…" Fae never lied, they couldn't, even the Unseelie, but they could twist words, she was trying desperately now to work out just how those words had been twisted, what could have happened that would prevent her parents from protecting her? She might be an embarrassment. She might be far from the daughter they had wanted, but she was their heir.

She's trying to process everything that is happening to her, and having this woman laughing at her isn't helping. She holds up a hand, though not in threat this time. "No… wait… this is still the club?"

She's realising that perhaps this woman isn't trying to kill her. She waves her raised hand, almost dismissively. "Fine… fine… I'll sign your forms…" The words come out dazed, it's clear that she's just agreeing to whatever her 'captor' is asking for in exchange for freedom. "I need to get out of here before they come back."

 

[Poprockz]

As she spoke she could see the girl fuming from her words, obviously more focused on the fact that she had been laughed at rather than the fact that Vivian had quite literally saved her life. It seemed like there wasn't a humble bone in her body, and that she was content to pick fights and bluster her way through her problems. She expected that any minute now she would get an earful of entitled prattle.

Curiously enough, she watched as the girl suddenly deflated, the metaphorical steam from her ears dissipating. It was almost as though Vivian had delivered a verbal punch to her gut that had made her unsteady. It would seem that she was physically unsteady as well as she teetered to the side, muttering something quietly that Vivian didn't quite catch.

Her next words were loud enough for her to hear clearly, though, and she could understand where the girl was confused. The basement apartment looked nothing like the club up top. Whereas up above there were flashing blue and green lights, sparkling drinks, and ocean decor, here it was much more tasteful. "Yes, we're still at the club, but we're downstairs in my apartment." She commented, watching the girl carefully to make sure she didn't lose her footing.

It almost looked like an expensive hotel suite, the apartment comprising of her bedroom, the kitchen, a bathroom, and a large living room. There were lots of tans, browns, golds, and accents of deeper colors, beautiful paintings displayed on the walls. One of them depicted a woman in a black dress with her back to the audience, the back zipped down to the small of her back and her face turned to the side as though unsure as to whether she should take the final step and reveal her body, desire and uncertainty in her eyes.

Vivian made a satisfied nod at Aelsbeth's next words, pleased at compliance. Walking over to a desk at the side of the room, she shuffled through one of the drawers, speaking over her shoulder to her fae guest. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that. The door at the top of the stairs is solid iron and only unlocks for my fingerprint. Unless they have explosives, they're not getting inside anytime soon."

She had installed the sturdy door in her basement after a close call with some crazy admirer that had tried to follow her down into her apartment. Obviously, she had thrown him down the stairs to lay agonizingly on his broken arm until the bouncers took him to a hospital. Not before signing the forms, though. The signatures hadn't been his best, but she could manage with them.

Finding the forms she was looking for, she searched the top drawer for a pen and found one in short order. Her hips swayed as she walked over to the table and arranged the forms next to each other. "A friend of mine gave me a really good deal on it, too. He's the superstitious sort, so he recommended iron as a way to keep out evil. Honestly, I just took it because was big, hard, and a total steal."

The pen was laid down near the first paper which she tapped with her fingernail.

 

[wanna_be]

It's fortunate then that Aelsbeth did not quite reach the point of no return. Assaulting the woman with magic would have seen her gain nothing. If indeed she spoke the truth about the iron door, and Aelsbeth saw no reason why she should lie, then she would have found herself trapped down here. Iron was impossible to enchant, yet another reason why the fae steered well clear of the cold metal.

She watched as the club's owner walked away, her own violet eyes being drawn downwards. They snapped back up. She might not be immune to the sexual wiles of humans, and she had entertained dalliances before, but she would not be manipulated by such things. No, she would sign these forms, then have the woman escort her to the nearest ring.

The rings have been severely reduced in number since the rise of humanity as the dominant power on Earth, but there were still several active across the globe. It's likely that her assailants came in through the closest, the one she herself had used to enter the human realm. They'd probably expect her to try and return through it as well, so might well be waiting for her.

She lifts then pen, ready to sign the forms placed in front of her.

She's far too good at the game for a calculating look to actually cover her face, but that is what she's doing. Without signing the papers she puts the pen down again, though she leaves her fingers resting atop it, making it clear that she could be signing those papers in a heartbeat. She fixes the human woman's eyes with her own.

"You really want me to sign these."

She has no problem with signing them, the laws of the human world hold little significance for a member of the seelie. If she were to extract payment from this woman it would not be of any monetary value. Not to a human anyway, the fae placed considerably less value on gold and jewels and pieces of paper than mortals did.

"I will, but not... for free."

The woman can clearly handle herself, and at the very least she can act as a shield between Aelsbeth and any would be assassins.

"I propose a trade, accompany me home, and I'll sign your papers happily."

 

[Poprockz]

When the fae set the pen back down, Vivian raised an eyebrow, wondering what the hold-up could possibly be. The girl’s next utterance made her narrow her eyes; she could tell when someone was angling For something. However, when she heard what the request was, her body relaxed.

She shrugged, assuming that the girl’s home was probably on the other side of town. It was a small price to pay to get the girl out of her hair, especially since she had a discount deal with the local taxi service for getting drunks home safely. Not that she was much concerned about the price, though. She had a hefty amount of money in her savings, so a taxi ride was nothing.

Vivian leaned over the opposite side of the table, her hands resting wide-spread upon the flawless wood, her chest jutting slightly forward. With the gold hoop earring, the extravagant red coat, and her self-assured grin, she very much looked the part of the dashing sea captain.

“Sure, sweet pea. Tell you what, sign these two-“ she pointed at the defamation and lawsuit papers, “-and I’ll take you back home, at which point, you’ll sign the other two forms.” It would seem that the girl was pretty shrewd, even with a possible concussion. Two could play at that game, though. She wouldn’t be cheated by having the girl run off into the safety of her home before Vivian was at least able to secure the protection of her club for this instance. The other two forms would protect her for the future, but it was a fair compromise.

The more she looked at the girl, the more natural she looked. It was as though even though her proportions seemed fundamentally wrong for a person, they seemed to be very fitting for her. Vivian briefly wondered what she would look like on her back with her legs spread out on the table, but the thought was soon banished. While she was a pretty thing, the personality was a turn off at this point. Besides, she would likely never see her again after today.

 

[wanna_be]

Dealing with the fae was dangerous, they had been around for a long time before humanity, and no doubt they would remain long after humanity was gone, even if they had retreated from the mortal realm centuries ago. Their influence over humans had waned a great deal. In the past a horseshoe would have been nailed up above a new-born's cot, for fear that a fairy might steal the child and replace them with a changeling. Gone are the days that the fae danced in the open, where humans were warned to stay away from the rings lest they dance until their feet bleed.

There is still power in a fae contract however, enough power to bind a human to the agreement until it is complete. Aelsbeth knows this, but the woman does not. Clearly she does not realise the significance of Aelsbeth's appearance, thinking it a mere cosmetic affectation rather than her natural visage.

Carefully, Aelsbeth picks up the pen, holding it delicately and poised above the papers. She leans back from the woman ever so slightly, her eyes flickering down from her face and over her form for a second, then pauses as though she has just considered something.

"You give me your word?"

It's an old-fashioned way of saying it, but hopefully her clear privilege will mask that fact. Once she has the woman's word all she need do is sign the contracts before her and the compact will be sealed. There is no showiness in a fae contract, no spilling of blood, no signature required, just a verbal agreement. Anyone looking for a fairy would be distinctly disappointed in how apparently ordinary much of their magic could be.

 

[Poprockz]

Vivian straightened up and waved her hand dismissively, “yes, yes. I promise I’ll take you home. Now please stop stalling and sign them for me. I would like to get this over with as soon as possible. I’m not a particularly busy woman, but I certainly value my free time.”

She turned and walked away as the fae started scribbling down her signature, her hand moving with untold grace. The woman sauntered into the kitchen, the familiar smell of coffee wafting from it shortly after. She had her own espresso machine, so she went to work making herself a latte. It crossed her mind that the girl might like one as well, so she made two, adding some vanilla to each to make them a bit sweeter.

Returning to the table, she set them down and looked over the signed pages, nodding. “They look to be in order. We’ll leave as soon as I finish my coffee. It’s been a long night for both of us, so a little bean juice is definitely warranted.” The second cup of coffee was gently slid over to Aelsbeth, steam rising from the hot liquid. Vivian had used the cream pour to make a leaf design on the surface, something she had picked up from a previous job as a barista.

After a few moments of silence, her eyes glanced up at Aelsbeth. “It’s none of my business, but you know you don’t have to keep altering yourself, right? I’ve had a lot of friends go through plastic surgery, even looking a lot better than they used to. But at some point they can’t stop and end up ruining things for themselves by making their face look puffy and disfigured. You’re already very pretty, so if you are into that, please at least think about the consequences before you continue.”

She sipped her coffee, sighing at the delicious taste and comforting warmth. “That’s my two cents anyway.”

 

[wanna_be]

The signature reflects everything else Aelsbeth does, conducted with an impossible grace no human could ever hope to emulate. It looks a little like she's spent several minutes perfecting each signature, though she has in fact completed both in only a few seconds. Professional calligrapher's would have wept over the signature she had created, though it is the first time she has done such a thing.

Aelsbeth finds the appearance of the coffee pleasing, her eyes flashing in surprise at the artistic gifts of the human, for a species so well-versed in violence occasionally the monkeys demonstrated some artistic gifts. Her nose wrinkles however, as the scent reaches it. She takes the cup and carries it to the kitchen, finding the sugar with an unerring sense of direction, and spooning a good amount into her coffee. It ruins the leaf design atop the coffee but makes the bitter drink at least more palatable for her sensitive taste buds.

They sip their coffee in silence for a few minutes, before Vivian breaks it. It's the most she's really spoken since Aelsbeth awoke down here. Her face wears an expression of complete confusion. It becomes rapidly clear that she has no idea what Vivian is talking about. "Altering myself? I don't…"

Her experience of the human world is fairly limited, she has taken many trips here, but only for limited durations. Thing like plastic surgery are as foreign to her as much of the rest of the world. "What are you talking about?"

 

[Poprockz]

Vivian met her confusion with an equal amount, a little bit of disbelief added to her expression also. There was no way the girl was born like that, inhumanly thin without looking sickly, the glow to her hair, the violet eyes... but Vivian liked to consider herself a good judge of character, her instincts for lying being thoroughly cultivated. The girl seemed genuinely confused, not knowing why Vivian was suggesting that she had been changed. Had her parents given her surgery without her knowing? That idea was almost as ridiculous as the idea of her being natural.

Vivian set her cup down while she tried to work everything out in her head. “You know? Like plastic surgery? There’s no way you naturally look like that...” She shook her head, a bit bewildered, “forget it, sweat pea.”

She took a drink of coffee and walked back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she reached up into a cabinet to grab a loaf of sourdough. Cutting the bread into slices, she popped four into her toaster and waited, wondering what the girl’s situation was.

“You were a bit out of sorts earlier when I introduced myself, so I’ll say it again if you didn’t know. My name is Vivian, and I’m the owner of this club. What street do you live on? I need to be able to put it into the taxi app.” The toast popped up and she put them on two plates, balancing the plates on one arm while using the other to carry a bowl of butter, some jam, and a jar of peanut butter. She set them down on the table and started spreading the butter on hers.

 

[wanna_be]

"Plastic..?"

Aelsbeth's confusion lessens a little, she know what plastic is at least, though how that might match up with how she looks? Though the gift of tongues is one that any fae is gifted with, Vivian could have been speaking a language from another planet for all the Princess understood. She understands the last bit though, her eyes narrowing in annoyance as she bites back her response to the patronising term.

Thinking that perhaps Vivian is simply unnerved by her natural appearance, she waits until she has moved back into the kitchen area, before starting to mutter under her breath. Her fingers start to contort in front of her, a faint glow spreading between them. Eventually there is a faint shimmer there, not dissimilar to the way a bubble might catch the light, except this gleams gold. She expands her hands, pulling it wider, and thin strands become visible, turning the bubble into a mesh. In one smooth movement Aelsbeth pulls the mesh over her face, letting her hands drop to her sides as the mesh seems to plaster itself against her face, fitting into every nook and cranny. It glows for a moment, crawling down from her head to cover every inch of her. It fades, leaving Aelsbeth looking exactly as she had done when she entered the club.

Her magic had already mostly finished in healing her, but the glamour felt warm for a moment as it targeted the more minor marks that her latent healing hadn't bothered with.

By the time Vivian returns to the table Aelsbeth looks a good deal more natural. Still the kind of beautiful though that makes people, men and women, stop and stare, she has her vanities after all. "I am Aeslbeth Turin Ailsa Myrcilla Caitir Neoma, heir to the Fae court."

There seems no harm now in revealing her true identity. There is little the woman can do about it now, she is bound to conduct Aelsbeth safely home, no matter her wishes in the matter.

"As to my street, I doubt your 'app' will be able to find it."

There's a strange edge in the way she says app, as if she doesn't fully understand what the word means and is simply repeating what Vivian has said. Her eyes fix on the plates before her, though she doesn't touch it. Her eyes are far more rapidly drawn to the jam, she can feel herself salivating, and takes a gulp of the syrupy coffee in an attempt to calm her taste buds.

 

[Poprockz]

Vivian Hadn’t noticed the change in appearance yet, focused as she was on carrying everything over without dropping anything, then buttering her toast. Grabbing another butter knife, she started spreading the jam on a piece of it, taking a large bite and munching as she finally looked up. Her eyes squinted, feeling a bit unnerved by the sudden change in appearance. The girl looked the same, but more human and toned down. How tired was Vivian that she was seeing things? However, her next sentence had her chuckling, thinking “heir to the fae court” was an expression.

“Sugar plum, I asked your name. I don’t need to know your sexual orientation as well. Although, I’ll keep that in mind, Beth. I play for both sides myself, so no judgement here.” She winked, licking a bit of jelly off her thumb for a moment. It hadn’t been intended as a sexual gesture, but there was something a bit erotic the way her sly red lips enveloped the tip of her well-manicured digit.

She wandered over to an armchair with her toast, sitting with her legs curled under her as she continued taking crunchy bites of the jam-sweetened sourdough. Her eyes went to the untouched toast on the table, wondering if it had been refused by her guest. It was an odd thought considering most people liked toast, but perhaps she was one of the oddballs who didn’t.

“What do you mean? Is it like out on the outskirts of town? If you give me an address of somewhere close, I’m sure we could figure out the rest of the way.” Her phone was taken from her pocket and she unlocked it with her thumb, opening up the app and glancing up expectantly.

 

[wanna_be]

The blonde's jaw actually dropped. Aelsbeth was quite literally speechless, a thing that happened only a handful of times in her life. It had certainly never been inflicted upon her by a mere human. She struggled to find words, her jaw flapping pointlessly. Instead of cowering in fear or at least displaying some form of respect the woman had responded with a crude sexual comment and an undeniably seductive tongue against her thumb.

Sitting bolt upright, Aelsbeth stared as the woman simply turned and wandered away. The disrespect and ignorance was simply breathtaking, and she truly struggled to respond. True, the woman was a human, but she hadn't seemed fazed either by Aelsbeth's unnatural appearance or her display of magic. She'd supposed there were some humans who still believed, but to find one that did and had no respect for the power of the fae had thrown her completely out of her comfort zone.

Lifting the coffee to her mouth is a pathetic and poorly disguised attempt to hide her confusion. There are only a few dregs left in the bottom of the cup now, she has managed to down much of the syrupy black liquid in only a few gulps, tempted as she is by the food before her on the table. With some effort, she turns away from the bread, with only a lingering glance betraying the temptation she feels.

The sugar helps to calm her nerves a little, allowing her at least the pretence of calm and control. It's not as if she can simply storm out of here, not with a solid iron door at the top of the stairs. Her tone has dropped a notch from cold to icy now, mostly because of the woman's disrespect, but partially at her ignorance.

"No, that will be too dangerous, the closest, safest ring…"

She trails off, clearly thinking about where she should go. There are few rings on this continent, the fae had always had less of a foothold in America, drawing most of their power from the old world. It would be easy for the unseelie to block her escape routes here. No, she would have to go further afield, she should go somewhere more powerful, somewhere older.

Slyly, knowing that Vivian has no real choice in the matter, she meets the other woman's gaze. "We need to go to Europe."

 

[Poprockz]

“Europe?” Vivian laughed, setting down what remained of her toast before looking back up at the girl. The request was ridiculous, unreasonable, and laughable, clearly. For a moment, she thought that the utterance was a joke, or at least it was an attempt to pull the wool over her eyes to get a free vacation. However, as her eyes searched Aelsbeth’s face, all she could see was pure seriousness, with a hint of smugness sprinkled in.

Slowly, Vivian’s expression morphed into one of confusion and then shock. It was now her turn for her mouth to drop open and flap like a lipsticked fish on dry land. “Wait, you-you’re serious? You need to get back to Europe? Fuck...” Her polished fingernail was brought to her mouth and she almost bit it, wrenching it back at the last second with frustration in her movements. It was obvious that she had worked hard to fix her habit of chewing her nails, but this turn of events had bucked her from her place of control and comfort.

Setting her plate of toast on a nearby coffee table, she got up and started pacing back and forth. “Fuckfuckfuck....” she seethed, casting venomous glances at the fae. Though she did have an assistant manager, she didn’t want to leave her club in his hands. He had always liked her just a bit too much and had been vying to be co-owner for ages. She always turned him down with the excuse that he had no direct managerial experience, but this might let him get a foot in the door. Vivian could always fire him, but that would start drama she didn’t want to deal with.

Her pacing stopped and she rubbed her temples with her fingertips, sighing and trying to calm herself down. She had promised to get the girl home and hadn’t bothered asking where her home was. Though this was partly her own fault, she couldn’t help but feel irritated at having been tricked by the girl.

“Where... is your passport, Brussels-sprout? I want to go today and be back In three days at most.” Her eyes scanned her body and then widened, realizing she didn’t have a bag on her.

Her eyes narrowed and she pointed a finger at her as if in warning, “For the love of god, please PLEASE don’t tell me that you don’t have one.”

 

[wanna_be]

A flash of annoyance passes across Aelsbeth's face, this woman had entered into a contract with her yet she is still asking for things. She straightens up, the haughtiness returning to her features as she stars down the finger pointing at her face.

"Passport? Why would I need a passport?

Aelsbeth is growing tired of being treated like a child. So she doesn't know what a passport is. What does it matter? She is fae, and royal fae at that. She doesn't need to play by the stupid rules of human society, and she feels the irritation rising at this woman's continued questioning of her. Her gaze moves back to the toast, more specifically, the pot of jam. Her attention is more drawn by the food now than it is by the woman, though she at least resists the urge to lick her lips her stomach grumbles quietly.

She waves a hand dismissively. "You made a compact with me to get me home, how you do it is your business. What do I care for the possessions of your world?"

She's still not looking at Vivian, her eyes fixed on the toast that she stubbornly refuses to ask for. She won't touch it without permission, but her pride and arrogance won't allow her to stoop so low as to ask for it. Instead she continues to ignore the woman, tapping her fingers delicately on the table as she tries to hide her hunger, rather unsuccessfully.

"If you need something to get me to Europe then it's something that you will have to resolve."

After all, dealing with humans at all is beneath a fae like her, she isn't averse to wandering and flirting, but actually having to ask them for help? Having to complete transactions beyond the normal one sided compacts of the seelie? Dealing with Vivian is bad enough, but if she must deal with any monkeys, better to deal with one and use her to keep the rest of them at arms length.

 

[Poprockz]

"Why would you need a...?" Vivian simply stared. Was this girl so naive and spoiled that she didn't even think she needed a passport to travel internationally? Part of her was glad she had made her sign the first two forms; if Aelsbeth was so rich that she didn't even care about having a passport, then she might have been able to do a lot of damage to Vivian's livelihood, given the chance. It was all the more reason to get her back to Europe as quickly as possible.

In the silence of her own shock, she hears the girl's stomach and notices how she's now looking at the toast. What was she waiting for? Was she on a diet? Vivian stood there and wondered to herself what she had gotten herself into. She would never regret saving anyone, but she should have taken the girl to a hospital and seen if they could contact her family. Now she was stuck with a girl who was spouting things about "your world" as though their classes were so far apart as to be considered different planes of existence. She wasn't wrong in saying that Vivian would have to figure it out, though, since the girl seemed like she wouldn't be much help herself.

Waiting for just a few seconds more, she finally says, "look. I don't know whether you're on a diet or not, but if you want the toast, then eat the toast. I made it for you and I'll eat it if you don't. Or if that doesn't work, you're welcome to any food in my kitchen, except for the mint hot chocolate. That is mine."

Grabbing her phone, she took it out and searched her contacts, dialing a number and holding the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Gabe! Do you still make passports?"

"What? No, not for me. I need it for a friend."

"Shit, don't give me that bullshit..."

"Alright, I'll pop in later today to discuss the details."

She hung up the phone and sighed- she didn't particularly care for Gabe, but he was handy to keep in contact with since he was typically able to procure things that were a little less legal. Her eyes went back to the fae and she said with a bit of annoyance, "I'm going to go get dressed into more suitable clothes. I'll be back."

Vivian walked into her room, not bothering to shut the door as she searched her dresser for the items of clothing she was looking for.

 

[wanna_be]

Aelsbeth didn't wait once she was invited to eat, pulling the jar of jam towards her. She doesn't bother with butter, but pauses before simply eating jam straight from the spoon. Instead she simply spoons the jam generously onto the toast, until it is a near mound. Somehow, she manages to eat it without getting it all over her face, though there are definitely a few near misses. Without the glamour she may well appear less dignified.

Still eating, she watches as Vivian walks into the bedroom, looking on in curiosity as the woman hunts through her drawers. There is obvious enjoyment on Aelsbeth's face, and not entirely because of the sugary sweetness of the jam. She wipes jam from the corner of her mouth as she drops the last crust, losing interest in the heavy meal. Though not in the jam. Instead she scoops more jam from the jar, then starts dipping her fingers into the mound atop the spoon.

Carefully sucking her fingers clean, she looks around the apartment. The offer of the kitchen is tempting, but she's satisfied with the jam for now. Taking one last scoop of it onto her fingers, she stands up and begins to wander around, staying well clear of the iron hanging by the door. The jam and her magic have helped revive her a little. She could probably sneak past the pack on the hook, but she'd still have no hope of escaping through a cast-iron door.

She pokes idly through the cupboards. They are well stocked, and she idles over the half jar of honey she discovers there. It's true that human food will always be a poor shadow of the meals of the seelie court. Unnatural, modified, processed. It robs the natural flavours from everything. Even so, her body's use of magic to heal her and keep her alive has left her drained, any food will hold her attention, even the poor ashes the monkeys eat.

"How long will this take Vivian?"

She sounds like a spoiled brat, which is, of course, exactly what she is.