aimedforthemoon: (paperwork)
[personal profile] aimedforthemoon
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)

Date: 2010-01-12 04:39 am (UTC)
vojvode: (smirk)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
He's seated in a wing-backed leather chair at the end of the aisle. His long legs are crossed at the ankles and his elegant fingers steepled, watching her from the shadows he's drawn around himself. His gloves are tucked neatly into his hat, which rests at his feet.

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.

Date: 2010-01-12 05:08 am (UTC)
vojvode: (smirk)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
"Such -- choice words from such a pretty mouth."

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.

Date: 2010-01-12 05:29 am (UTC)
vojvode: (smirk)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
He laughs, low and soft. "I did not mean to startle you, Miss Yazacova. Please, accept my apologies."

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.

Date: 2010-01-12 05:52 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
"Lieutenant. Again, my apologies. I meant no -- disrespect."

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."

Date: 2010-01-12 11:10 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
Oh she is a rarity, this one. All fire one moment, and the next, that little moue on her lips. He shifts his weight to his other elbow, his motions languid, completely at ease in his own skin.

"Come closer, daughter of the revolution, that I may look upon your face."

Date: 2010-01-12 11:16 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
"Not yet."

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."

Date: 2010-02-03 10:04 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
Shine like the morning star, trailing fire like a comet.

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."

Date: 2010-03-01 12:36 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
He is no stranger to the ways of war, and the ferocity of her spirit sings to him like a siren, calling him onward into the black.

"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.

Date: 2010-04-04 03:44 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
He smiles up at her, one gloved fingertip rising to brush her hair back from her brow. That fingertip trails down her jaw and down along the pale column of her throat.

"You are -- exquisite," he purrs.

Date: 2010-04-04 04:34 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] vojvode
He feels the wave of desire from him, and it almost overwhelms him. His own lips part, needle pointed fangs descending slowly. He draws her close, one hand in the small of her back, revelling in how tiny she is, how warm she is against her chest.

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.

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