Little Is Brought To Light

Setting: Theatre
Date: May 2008
Players: Christian and Rasha
Synopsis: Christian and Rasha have a discussion on the balcony, mainly to try and discern what secrets Rasha hides, though little is brought to light.

Strawberry curls now gleaming, Rasha sets her brush down on her lap, the satin fabric of her gown was cool to the touch, but she doesn't notice. "I wonder, Christian, about this girl Alea. What were your thoughts?" Rasha had a good grasp of her own, but she wasn't much inclined to share those. She turns her cool gaze on Christian, paying no mind to a man passing carrying a broken chair. [Rasha]

Feather quill in hand, the pale blonde man glances up from the large book laid out on an upped knee, his legs carefully balanced across each other. Seated in the same ornate velvet chair as the svelte female near to him, the man twists the quill in his hand and mulls. "Her? Lost. And asked me why did you tell her 'be careful not to be bitten.'" He shrugs a little helplessly. "I don't have interest in her." [Christian]

The theatre was relatively quiet, only a few others were still here and most keeping well and away from Rasha. It wasn't that she was openly cruel or mean…but there was something about her that often makes her seem unapproachable.

Her gaze lingers on the quill in Christian's hand, wondering what words he was putting to parchment, her thoughts never lingered on one thing too long, a bad habit.

"Hmm…so, what shall we do tonight? Or are you having enough fun finishing your writing?" she asks, twirling a lock of red hair about her finger as she awaits his reply. [Rasha]

The feathery end of the quill is brushed against the pale skin of Christian's lower jaw for a moment. "Perhaps she knows about the existence of us." He smiles a little, letting the quill's nib drab a few lines over the parch. "Almost, Rasha fraulein, almost." Then he pauses, looking at the strands of her red hair for a moment, seemingly entranced again before he rises up, albeit a little heavily from the chair. The book is slapped close and the quill made to vanish.

"Would you wish to go somewhere?" He asks, turning blue eyes onto the girl's face, holding out his hand to her. [Christian]

Rasha ponders the idea that the girl might know and a lovely game of cat and mouse skitters through her mind and is filed away for later. Smiling her most charming smile up at Christian, releasing the lock of hair as she takes his offered hand and rises from her chair, her free hand deftly catching the brush before it falls to the floor.

"I'm not sure. I'm a bit bored but I do not have an inkling of an idea of what to do about it. Any suggestions?" she asks, her eyes never leaving his. [Rasha]

He grasps her small hand with his own gloved one, turning the fingers a little and marveling even at the delicacy of the porcelain skin covering undead bones. "Truth to say. I do not really know where we might go." He appears to think momentarily, his white blonde brows knitted together in a genuine sort of thoughtful stasis. "We could venture up to the balcony and look upon the city, and speak, perhaps. I've been around mortals for too long; and less associated with my Kind."

His fingers wind into hers but does not insistently wish to drag her away and, the pale fellow awaits the girl's decision on what she wished to do. [Christian]

She felt their kind were often highly over rated, bound by rules she never held herself to and typically…boring. Christian was the first of their kind she'd cared to bother spend time with. She doesn't, however, tug away from his hand but twines her fingers with his. "Sounds intriguing, lead the way." she says, quickly setting the brush on her vacated chair and gathering up some of the train to her gown in her free hand to keep it from dragging the floor.

"Are you sure though that you wouldn't rather spend the time with your quill and parchment?" she asks, her tone teasing. She knew Christian's passion for his writing and though she didn't understand it, she did respect it. He was one of the few people she did respect. That didn't mean though, that she couldn't or wouldn't tease him about it, just a little. [Rasha]

"No. I am done with the writing." The pale fellow replies with not much exact concern over his one passion in his undead life. The book is left lying on the tiny table set next to the velvet chair; a servant of his would collect it later.

The exquisite doll-like hand belonging to the girl is brought close, so she'd follow the urge and step nearer. There is one wide balcony upstairs, as they will find on the second floor which led out from one of the numerous rooms of the Theatre, the former Lord of this place built. As they ascend the stairs, the girl by his side is kept close, and servants bow silently as they move upwards; belying an odd sense of faux nobility in the atmosphere.

Princes and princesses of the night, they were, even if Rasha cared not for the classical awe their Kind called for. And as his boots landed on the top landing in a softened thud, he turns to look upon the girl again, perhaps concerned she'd not trip. [Christian]

With her hand held in Christian's cool grasp, she steps in close to him, even as they step upon the landing. The soft fabric of her slippers make no sound upon the floor. Her gaze sweeps around, assessing, before settling once again on her pale companion. She smiles, her glance fleeting as her focus shifts to the walls, the floor, anything, but at Christian just then. [Rasha]

"Quiet, are you not? I cannot seem to know what you are thinking." The pale blonde man begins to walk, allowing her to trail by his side like a little ghost. The doors to the balcony's room is sought, opened and they'd find themselves on a terrazzo tiled floor, black glimmering tiles surrounded by an iron wrought railing of vine and rose; the balcony overlooks the glitz of the theatre district and further up, the Cortes of Lions, and the everlasting spurts of the fountains there. "I do fear." He admits, letting go of Rasha's hand as he now with the other freed one, closing the doors of the balcony behind him. "Of my own Kind. It seems easier with mortals, Rasha fraulein, to know their minds and their desires." And pausing for a while, he tilts his head to look with a glance at the lights spread out across the street. [Christian]

"Yes..I suppose it is because I am uncertain what to say." she says, her voice still soft, chiming even. She keeps hold of his hand, paying little mind to a passing servant as they step out onto the balcony, its stunning view of the city spread out before them. All the smells carried on the evening air seem to clear her head and heighten her senses, her hand in his tightens ever so slightly just before he lets go. She steps only slightly closer to the railing, but not to its edge. Her gaze skims over the roses even as Christian speaks. "I find them weak and of little interest…most of the time." [Rasha]

The pale man joins the girl at the railing now that the doors are closed for privacy. What little wind traverses the second floor catch his coat for a moment and flaps it slightly, tugging at the long strands of his hair too.

"Mortals can be very strong, in fact." He seems to recall something in his memory; and a odd little smile comes up to his mouth. "I used to be around one such mortal but that was a year ago. I can still remember her name but it is of no consequence now." He turns on a heel, so that his back leans against the railing, while he props his elbows against the top of the rail. "Rasha fraulein." The pale man begins rather unobtrusively, "Why then did you pay such interest in the girl last night since you find them weak, and uninteresting?" [Christian]

She releases the fabric of her gown, maintaining her distance of two feet from the railing, her gaze now on the sky line, though she is very aware of Christian standing next to her. She pays little mind to the breeze which is likely putting fresh tangles in the long length of her hair. "They can be very cruel as well." she says quietly but then suddenly turns her face toward his, her smile radiant. "I don't wish to speak of mortals, let us talk of your play." she suggests, when he brings up the girl. [Rasha]

Christian seems to chuckle at Rasha's flitting attempts at conversation all the time, like a fickle butterfly in a big garden of flowers. His expression turns thoughtful and his posture shifts, returning to look back on the city again.

"Plays in the theatre always reflect the inner desires of the mortals who live in the city. Be it joy, or sadness. Anger even." He muses, letting his body arch a little over the rail as his arms stretch out to clasp his hands together.

“You can really not be 'disassociated' with mortals." The pale fellow notes with another dry smile; unlacing his fingers and spreading his hands a little in a stretch. "But, Rasha fraulein, why are you here then?" [Christian]

Rasha gasps softly, reaching out as though she might pull him back from the edge, but she doesn't, she stops, her hand over the place where once her heart did beat. Even his words, as much as his actions stop her in place and the soft smile leaves her pale features. She looks out over the city before she answers quietly. "Like many, I am here to hide. Is there something so wrong in that?" she asks, her hands dropping to her sides, the wind catching and shifting the folds of her gown. [Rasha]

The pale fellow relaxes against the railing and a hand motions up to rest on the girl's long tresses of red hair. A strand is picked up gently and textured between his fingers, his eyes following the reflection of light upon it. "Never really wrong when you believe something you do is right." The blue-green of his eyes shift a little, turning a startling green now. "Your mind and focus move too much; one cannot guess what you are thinking." The strand of long red hair is drawn into a twirl around his finger, he appears entranced to a minimal least, letting the tresses slide as if they are alive over the stretched whiteness of his skin. [Christian]

Rasha's smile returns. "Just the way I like it. Makes me a wonderful actress too, keeps everyone guessing!" she says, her gaze now returned his, noticing the changes in his eyes, ever aware of the actions he takes in twining the soft red curls of her hair about his fingers. "Tell me Christian, would it best for me take more of an interest in mortals or is better I remain aloof? I would take your advice into consideration above all others." she says softly. [Rasha]

The pale fellow seems to have twined a little too much of the girl's hair in his grasp, and he seems to be wondering how to untwist it from his fingers; yet he has no complaints to let it stay there. Dropping himself a little to level his eyes with hers, and that their faces match at the same height, Christian smiles just slightly, "Yes, you are a wonderful actress, Rasha fraulein. Had I not seen you on the first night I've returned, maybe I would had been enchanted by another."

"Our Kind, has many different goals. Some seek to continue their Blood by taking mortals into it, others guard theirs harshly, and refuse any near. Yet some take pets and toss them away when they are done. Which one are you, Rasha? Or have you not decided?" [Christian]

Rasha reaction was to at first scowl then quickly soften her expression just before she drops her gaze from Christian's. Would she confess to him? Tell him how her only desire is to terrify at times. At times she finds herself watching the mortals, choosing one that no one would miss, bringing them to the brink of immortality and then living them for dead…when often they were not even close. No…not that. Some rules weren't to be broken or confessed when they were and she was trying to change her ways, some nights the temptation was just too great.

"I am the kind to take what I need. Nothing more, nothing less." she says in answer, though she was sure her delayed response would leave him wondering. [Rasha]

Christian notices the quick scowl across the girl's face, and very solemnly, his fingers release easily from the twined strands of hair, the tips of those fingers touching her cheek quickly. "Then you have found your balance and you need no answer from myself." He emphasizes with a sort of closure, though another shift in his eye colors seem to hint that he truly does not know what perhaps the girl wanted. The pale fellow could sense something that he would find empathy with maybe.

"You're withholding something, are you not?" He suddenly asks, staring at her. [Christian]

His touch on her cheek draws her eyes back to his and for a moment she longs to tell him the truth but knows she mustn't. With a good deal of effort, she forces a smile. "We all have our secrets Christian. I am sure you have your own as well." she says, a bit flippantly. She turns her gaze away again, but keeps the smile in place as she starts to step toward the rail, realizing where that action will take her however, stops her and keeps her firmly in place in front of Christian. [Rasha]

"You do know very well if I know all your secrets, it would very well mean something not so pleasing." The pale man smiles lightly in return, letting his hand just brush away some strands of hair from her cheek and he slides them into his coat's pockets. Her carefully kept distance from the railing is discretely noticed by him now though and he looks a little archedly over her head at the street below them , and back at the girl once more. "I think there's one question you could answer. Are you perhaps afraid of heights?" [Christian]

Rasha laughs, then nods. "Yes, terribly so. It makes me very nervous that you sit there so close to it. You might fall." she says, that fear a bit irrational, but she had it just the same.

"There are things you cannot see unless you come up here." The pale fellow bemuses, letting his hands out of his pockets now. He turns his back on her and then walks towards the doors, opening them.

"But I should not had made the suggestion earlier since you're afraid of heights." Christian continues, glancing over his shoulder now at Rasha. "We'll return back down and you can take a rest in your boudoir." [Christian]

Rasha nods, following, though now she wished she hadn't admitted to her fear. She did need to overcome it and more time with him was always a pleasure…still, perhaps it was time she returned to her room.

" Thank you, Christian, perhaps a rest would do me good." [Rasha]

"We've talked sufficiently. I am satisfied." The pale fellow tells her, perhaps to assure, no? He holds the door open and his hand stretches out to the girl once more to take hers in hand to return to the lower floors.

"Tomorrow we can go somewhere, where there are no second floors." Christian says, a little solemnly though with no intention to jeer. [Christian]

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