(no subject)
Dec. 30th, 2009 11:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Milliways has at least two libraries, even if Yesfir is only aware of one of them. The normal one, although this is Milliways normal. She was staying in Milliways until the bruises from her fight with Fiona healed (which they have, twice as fast as when she was properly alive and properly human), and then…Well, it was right, that her comrades from Russia had called her ‘Peregrine’. She was a bird rather than any spirit of air; she needed to come back to Earth sometime (well, Earth, planet, inhabited moon…dirtside, really.)
So, maybe her little stay in Milliways is slightly longer than it otherwise might be as she recharges her batteries. There is another reason for her stay, though, and this one she is far more uncomfortable in talking about, even to Ben, even to Cal (who she hasn’t seen in far too long). The fight with Fiona had merely reminded her – she wasn’t purely human. She moved too fast, healed too quick. One would think that the metal rune in her breast would be reminder enough, but it wasn’t. It was just another scar, and in space her fast reflexes were not as shocking.
But fighting on the ground, against another human, has prompted the tiny pilot to head to the library and start browsing the section on Norse mythology. She’s in civvies, clothes dark and plain and comfortable, a mix between old home and new; dog-tags underneath her shirt, as always. Her short curls are messy, but it suits her.
(then again, death suited her, too)
So, maybe her little stay in Milliways is slightly longer than it otherwise might be as she recharges her batteries. There is another reason for her stay, though, and this one she is far more uncomfortable in talking about, even to Ben, even to Cal (who she hasn’t seen in far too long). The fight with Fiona had merely reminded her – she wasn’t purely human. She moved too fast, healed too quick. One would think that the metal rune in her breast would be reminder enough, but it wasn’t. It was just another scar, and in space her fast reflexes were not as shocking.
But fighting on the ground, against another human, has prompted the tiny pilot to head to the library and start browsing the section on Norse mythology. She’s in civvies, clothes dark and plain and comfortable, a mix between old home and new; dog-tags underneath her shirt, as always. Her short curls are messy, but it suits her.
(then again, death suited her, too)
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Date: 2010-01-12 04:39 am (UTC)She is a delectable little thing. Her dark hair and eyes remind him of the Romani girls of his homeland.
His head falls to one side as he takes in the view.
Mmm, yes. Very nice indeed.
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Date: 2010-01-12 04:59 am (UTC)Her accent is southern Russian, clearly from the Volga region; her language...Colourful.
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Date: 2010-01-12 05:08 am (UTC)The shadows recede, like clouds pulling back from the moon, revealing the dark figure sitting at the end of the long aisle.
He lifts a hand and beckons her closer with an imperial gesture.
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Date: 2010-01-12 05:16 am (UTC)Not seeing a man on the ground is not at all like not seeing someone in the sky.
"Don't like my language, then the door is right there," she points out, coolly.
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Date: 2010-01-12 05:29 am (UTC)A cool weight settles over her mind, like the vacuum of space. Inviting. Comfortable.
He gestures again, and this time, he whispers against her thoughts.
Come to me.
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Date: 2010-01-12 05:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-12 05:52 am (UTC)Names are such trivial details, when he can see the ripple and flow of her thoughts. The man with the hat is there. Other faces he recognises as well.
New faces as well. The woman with the pale blond hair shines out like a ray of sunlight. He will have to make sure to make her acquaintance.
"I'm certain we were introduced in the bar. Perhaps at the wake?"
So many people were there after all. She might remember his face from the crowd.
"My name is Vlad."
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Date: 2010-01-12 10:43 pm (UTC)"Vlad..." She muses, and something around her mouth softens a little. "Good name."
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Date: 2010-01-12 11:10 pm (UTC)"Come closer, daughter of the revolution, that I may look upon your face."
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Date: 2010-01-12 11:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-12 11:16 pm (UTC)The shadows fold in behind her, urging her along the aisle. There is too much space between them. Something must be done about that.
He leans forward a little bit, whispering just for her.
"But I can sense the glory of your wings."
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Date: 2010-02-03 09:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-03 10:04 pm (UTC)The darkness around him is the comforting black of deep space. Cold and clean. Free of the cares that come with the burdens of gravity.
"There is always glory in the Fall," he murmurs, his voice low and indulgent. "Especially when it is from such a -- great and terrible height. They will sing your name from now until the end of time."
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Date: 2010-02-28 11:47 pm (UTC)(in another era, she'd be a hunter, a warrior with horse and bow and axe)
"They do. I hate it. Tie me down to something I'm not, use my name and death for their own ends."
He speaks of comfort, of the cool anonymity of space and the freedom she has always felt in the wings of her fierce, damaged soul.
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Date: 2010-03-01 12:36 am (UTC)"Oh the lies the living tell about the dead," he muses, lips curling in a smirk.
He opens his arms to her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to come and sit upon his lap.
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Date: 2010-03-01 04:45 am (UTC)He opens his arms and Yesfir moves forward, curling her arm around his shoulders.
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Date: 2010-04-04 03:44 am (UTC)"You are -- exquisite," he purrs.
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Date: 2010-04-04 04:22 am (UTC)Want this; oblivion eternity freedom; this.
"Please," Yesfir whispers, her head tilting back and eyes finally, finally closing.
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Date: 2010-04-04 04:34 am (UTC)His breath stirs the hairs in the hollow of her ear, and his lips draw a line of cold fire along her skin. Perhaps she is already dead here, in this world, but it is the life flowing in her veins that calls to him.
Her hands come to rest on his chest, and he pulls her closer still, pressing an open-mouthed kiss above her jugular, tasting her slowly, calling the blood to the surface.
Then and only then does he let his control slip, his teeth sinking into her soft flesh.