Re: Night Scents

[Kale]

The look progressively flattened, as if she could hardly believe the sheer stupidity of what she was hearing. A wing flicked to readjust its feather.

"I assure you, I had little kind intentions." Her tone was flat, and she leaned forward as if to peer up into his face - like this new angle would show her something different within him. "I thought you had at least known that. You give yourself too much credit. You don't affect me, Richard. I am who I will be, and you and whatever you do, wont change that." But really asides all, if it's so important that she let him make his own decisions and choices, why couldn't he let her make hers? It's a good thing she wasn't actually open with him after all. He must not have truly given due thought to if she had been that naive and innocent. What he would have done is given her more doubt to if she should ever try again, given how he reacted to what he thought was genuine.

Kale stepped forward. They were closing distance again, the pressure built.

"Why would you not let this be selfish?"

[Richard Wallace]

Richard narrowed his eyes slightly. It was hard to judge whether she'd truly said and did all that she did for some other reason -- what could it be, he had no idea -- or whether it was a fox and grapes situation.

'I want you.'

'You can't have me.'

'Joke's on you, I was only pretending. And you suck.'

Well, whatever made her feel better. Either way, he was fairly certain he did affect her already. Didn't she say so herself? Or was that another lie?

He reached up to comb his fingers through his hair, as if it could help with the slowly growing headache. "I never used the word 'kind'... but is it really so strange that somebody would want to be kind to you? To save you from something worse?"

[Kale]

The harpy's face seemed to hesitate before creasing with confusion and frustration.

Her lips barely parted and a sharp, light hissing breathed out. Turning sharply, Kale stalked a few steps away. With mouth barely moving, the sounds fluctuated, sounding like a mix of hisses, clicks and muted screeches. It held the air of irritated mutterings. Finally, she did turn back and eyed him.

"Has anyone ever told you, your language tastes bad?" She paused, but it didn't last long enough for an answer to be supplied, signaling they she wasn't really asking for one. "And, yes it is. Especially when you don't deserve it. I'm torn, really, Richard, between telling you all to clean things up, or to serve my own original interests by keeping you in the dark." And for a moment, she did look indecisive, looking at him. But it hardened, and she straightened. "What I wanted. I wanted you to not care. I wanted you to be selfish. I wanted you to be as cruel as I was, a like-mind. I was so happy to see you hold a mask so well, so much fun I thought you could be. So useful." She had wanted to use him, and he use her, be selfish and both understand and be okay with that.

Again, there was a pause as she looked him over.

"You're right. I was wrong." Kale's eye lingered on his form before turning away. She would start on back to the inner castle now.

[Richard Wallace]

Richard flinched a little, taken aback. For a moment, it seemed as if she'd lost the ability to speak, and he just stared at her, dumbfounded. When she came back to English, though, he found his confusion only grew.

As he watched her turn away, a million things he could possibly say went through his head. What was that about deserving things? But one scene came back to his mind, when she still fought, that last meeting in his office.

"I remember you saying you were told you were meant to be alone. How keen you are to fulfill that prophecy." His voice was soft, almost melodic. "How comfortable it would be, having somebody not hesitant to hurt you so that you would not have to hesitate before you hurt them. How safe, to never let your guard down, never have to try to be better than you are. Never let somebody change you. Never be vulnerable." He let out a low laugh. "I think that deep inside, you are more scared than I ever was."

Then there it was, an impulse, one of those he was beyond resisting; one long, light, quick step forward, then another. Arms spreading to slink around that fragile frame and pull her close and hold her firmly there, against her will if so it was.

A hug.

[Kale]

She had hesitated her steps to listen to him speak with half-turned head. She looked at nothing in particular as he made his assessment, and only turned at the first sounds of his approach. But before she had, the arms were circling her. She felt the pass through her influence as he stepped in next to her at the center of her storm. Her first reaction was to pull away, raise her hands to grip at his wrists and wings fluttered as much as they could pressed between her back and his chest. But there was not much fight, because there was't much question as to who had the physical strength here.

Her posture remained rigid and her body still, her face strictly down-turned with hair falling, trying to hide her expression from whatever he might be able to see from over her shoulder.

"You know nothing." Her voice was a dark hissing sort of angry. "Choice has never been one of the luxuries I was given." Her head turned just slightly to the side towards him. "What do you want from me, Richard? Are you expecting me to break down for you now? I cannot cry, if that's what you're thinking."

[Richard Wallace]

For a moment, the ache inside his skull increased, but after a sharp peak it dropped into just a mild buzz. He wasn't sure what reaction was he expecting from her, but a violent one was one of the possibilities he accepted; the fact that it turned out not to be was, somehow, not a surprise. Ignoring her stiffness, he settled into the embrace, as if it were the most usual thing.

"Life isn't one choice, Kale," he murmured softly. "You keep choosing. And when you aren't given a choice, you take it." An amused smile fought its way to his face. Really, the situation felt like a deliberate, complicated joke, turning in on itself for the punchline. He leaned down a little to press his lips lightly against her head, speaking through her feathery hair. "No, I don't want you to break down or cry. Still can't believe that, can you?" He paused a beat. "What I want from you... Do you remember what I wrote to you on that last public letter?"

[Kale]

A string of hissing clicking noises was darkly muttered, almost low enough that someone with normal ears wouldn't have caught it. She hated him in that moment. A little louder, she spoke this time. "Your actions keep suggesting different intentions, pardon, it's hard to follow." Her voice was still bitter.

Her shoulders started to relax, but the hands at the man's wrists tightened, points of nails starting to rate in at his skin.

"You wrote that I shouldn't be like you."

[Richard Wallace]

Richard blinked, shifting slightly, his head leaning away from hers. Well, he supposed in the current situation, his intentions could be questionable... But in response to her nails, all he did was tighten his hold slightly, only to make a point. She wasn't getting away before he said what he needed to.

"And what am I like? Paranoid. Mistrustful. Selfish, cold. Lonely. Arrogant. Hiding from the world. Complacent with the cards I'd apparently been dealt. You know all that. You told me that. You're on your way there." He let out a breath of a chuckle. "And I actually did what you wanted me to. I didn't care, and I was selfish, and I was cruel, and I turned you down and ran, because that's what being those things can make you do. Were you pleased? I wonder, is that what you really wanted?" He didn't pause to let her answer. "Or maybe, you wanted somebody to accept you and understand you with all your traits and flaws, and that was the only way you thought it was possible? The best you deserved, best you could settle for?" His tone was quiet, hard and inquiring, but free of anger. "Do you remember the things you said in my office? About not wanting to be alone and keep up your mask forever, about hoping for a reprieve in me, about dropping the games? And all the things you said sounding like you wanted to help me? Sounding anything but uncaring, selfish and cruel? Was that all lies, or do you just wish it was?"

There was a decision there to be made. Richard wasn't sure if it was Kale's or his.

[Kale]

There was a little girl, bandaged and bloodied eye with wings clipped, looking up at Richard.
--

Kale's eye had at some point closed, body having relaxed against Richard's chest. She seemed to lean back in to him for only a moment during his speech before opening her eye and standing on her own again.

"I'm not like you."

--
A hand came up to cover her good eye. It was attached to a woman with scarred eye sown shut and wings full-fledged. This woman turned the girl and tucked her into her chest, cradled and protected with cooing whispers and reassurances.
--

Rather on purpose, talon-like nails dug sharply into the man's arm. If nothing else tonight, now she wanted to make him bleed. Slowly, hard as she could, the tips were raked back towards his hand.

"There may have been truth but I just needed you on my side, or gone." Her tone was flatly scathing, but just getting flatter as she went on. "I had a preference, yes, but I knew either would work. Nothing I couldn't get along without was lost." Slowly, she started to move, as if asking to turn around, head pivoting to look over her shoulder at him. "As for all the rest, understanding what I did and why - well, see if I'm not exactly keen on sharing my life story and inner insecurities with someone who has already outright rejected me on multiple occasions and has shown no intention of doing anything different this time." Voice was cold and hard, as if emotions had quite literally and determinedly been turned off. Apparently, just like everything else, if they didn't suit her they were pushed aside.

--
The woman took the girl away.
--

"Besides, what does it matter to you anyway? Surely, you're not deciding now to care."

[Richard Wallace]

His skin was cut much as normal skin would, but only a tiny drop or two of blood would seep out and drain into his sleeves before the wound sealed itself. The pain wasn't that bad and passed quickly. Unlike the one inside his chest.

So cold, so calculating, so tough. As if he didn't know where that was coming from. As if he didn't know how it felt. What a cruel joke it was.

As Kale began to twist in his arms, he loosened his hold a little to allow her, but did not let go. Not just yet.

Richard looked down to the ebony eye, a strange expression on his face. He studied hers for a moment, not sure whether he was searching for something there, or just making sure his voice would not quiver when he used it.

"See, Kale, I do. I did." He could have hid, put on an aloof mask. Bit back at her. But he didn't, letting his grief echo in his tone. "I always did care. I didn't want to, and I didn't want you to, so I rejected you as callously as I could so that you wouldn't." Rejection. "Funnily enough, I'm beginning to realize how that felt on your side." He raised his forearm slightly and glanced to the bloodied hand. "I'm not that person anymore. I'm not scared anymore. But, much as I would like to, I can't undo that person's mistakes." He smiled a soft, sad smile, letting his gaze trail over her face as if to memorize it, every one of its features, in that moment. "You know, I'd always ran from the consequences of my actions, never could stand watching them. But I don't want to do that anymore. I can't turn back the clock. And I can't spend the rest of my remaining days sitting around, wishing that I could."

'You're leaving me.'
'Yes, Richard,' Katherine said, slamming the suitcase shut. She was turned away, all he could see of her head was the cloud of her hair.
'Why?'
She stood up straight, stifling a sigh. 'People-- people change. I changed. You didn't.' She looked at him, dark eyes burning. 'You never will, because it's too convenient being you. Can't say it ain't so, eh? You like being a bastard, Ricky.'
He stared at her blankly. Twenty years. Almost twenty years. His little sweet wife, his salvation and his ruin, his little fiery spawn of Satan with her razors and syringes and unhinged bloodlust. 'I changed you. I can't let you go. I can't unleash you on the world. That would be the bad thing to do.'
She cocked her head skeptically. 'Well, you did.'
'I won't.'
He took out his gun.

Slowly, his arms moved back to his sides, letting Kale go. It felt right. It didn't hurt anymore.

[Kale]

She wanted to rant and rage, throw a storm and rip something apart. It was easier.

But she was just too tired. Looking up at him, watching the odd expression and tone in his voice. She hated hearing it. And by the end of what he was saying, she barely could. Her own heart beat upon her ears, and for once, she was sure someone other than herself could hear it.

His arms moved away, and her hand slipped from its place. They stood so close without touching, and Kale knew she had to move one way or the other. She scanned his face still for what might be there. A war waged, and she wanted to kiss him with that ease they had in the clock tower. She hated herself for it, and ripped her gaze away and to his eyes only.

Wasn’t it funny, that even while she had expected him to let her go, some part of her had managed to hope that he wouldn’t – that he didn’t? Just now, if he hadn’t let go—Well, but that was it. Maybe she had at least helped him a little bit in all this.

“I’ll be glad for you. Glad all this made you feel better about yourself, helped you figure some things out. I hope you find it suits you well.” God knows he hadn’t helped her.

The harpy looked down at her bloodied nails, lifting the hand. It was a hollow victory. Well, what now?
Come on, girl, you know you better than this. We pick up the pieces and we’re fine, just like always. He is not special, and he’s making your choice for you here. You know what you have to do.

Her fingers curled into a fist and her hand dropped. Looking back up to him, she took a step back, putting him from the eye of her storm. Her posture was straight, and expression distant. Proper, mature. A wall.

“Anything else you want to say to me?”

[Richard Wallace]

Richard felt clean, somehow. Like after an icy cold, prickling shower. His head felt light, and even the incessant buzz of pain in the back of it seemed irrelevant now. His own heartbeat calm and steady, he could not help but hear the discordantly loud one of the person next to him.

Looking at her, almost contemplative, he listened, and somehow was not surprised to not detect sarcasm in her words. In response, he gave a nod, almost absently. It did. It would.

His gaze flicked over Kale as she put the distance between them. "Yeah, I think so. Mademoiselle." He shifted his foot back in a half-hearted, bow-less scrape, one corner of his mouth quirking in that lopsided smile of his.

"Would you like to go out on a date sometime?"

[Kale]

She had steeled herself for these last words, where then she would nod, walk away, and go back to work no matter what. What he said would not, with quite certainty, affect her. The woman watched, face forced impassive, as he moved. The words registered slowly, brain not really caring to process them. But still they filtered in. And then came the anger.

It was a familiar and searing wave that bristled in her chest, pooling hotly before crackling out and turning to ice in her limbs. Go on a date? What was she? Some toy to toss back and forth, some creature who - because they didn't easily give with emotions that upon her were more anthropomorphic than anything - could be thrown about with them?

No. She did not think so.
Did he think that after being through this roller coaster, she would so easily agree with no injury between them?
If he did, he was wrong.

Still, she smiled, though it was a little frosted. Challenging, perhaps. Her tone held the slight 'tsk' of an unsaid 'Now, now..'

"You shall have to do better than that." Right. Now, nod, turn, and walk away.

[Richard Wallace]

Wincing a little, he raised his hands, as if to say 'I know what you're thinking'.

"Well, you see... I can't undo my mistakes. But, I can try to not make them again." He let his arms fall back to his sides. "I'm talking no pressure, no drama, no expectations. Just a drink, a chat, whatever, stay casual, try not to go anywhere wrong and maybe, God willing, have fun." He smirked slightly, amused at the preposterous concept. "If you would rather see me hang, well. I understand. You don't have to answer right now, either." He looked away, pocketing his hands. "We could use a breather."

The bird in the bushes was silent. Richard stood, waiting for Kale to either reply or just leave.

[Kale]

She turned away, giving him an odd look like she wasn't quite sure what to make of him.

Not make mistakes again? Who said he was sure to get a chance to try?

"I'd enjoy seeing you hang if only I thought it would actually kill you." It was the first thing out of her mouth, and in such a tone that suggested she hadn't thought about it first. Her gaze was steady, and there was a pause of her actually considering it.

"We'll see." After all, they lived in the same castle. She'd run in to him again whether she wanted to or not. Though, she had to admit, God never seemed very willing. With that, unwilling to say or hear any more, wings opened and beat down with a swift determination to launch her form back into the sky.

[Richard Wallace]

He hummed quietly. Well, at least she had no will to see him hanged just for him to suffer, right? It was something. And so was her answer. And so was their whole meeting, really - something. Richard shook his head, looking at the harpy as she flew away.

When did things get so complicated? Only now, with the Gordian knot rent in twain, he could see how twisted it had been. Well, that was done for. Whether something else would appear in its place... only time would tell. Breaking and rebuilding.

For now, he had things to do. He took in a deep breath, full of the scents of the night -- the courtyard's foliage, the smoke from somebody's fireplace and the waning trace of Kale's smell on the wind. Then, he exhaled slowly, and turned around. For now, there were flowers to gather, a seat to take, and a drink to pour.

They would see.

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