girlsolo | [Oct. 13-20] full stops and exclamation marks

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[Oct. 13-20] full stops and exclamation marks

Kate's back to drinking tequila again. That's never a good sign. Tonight it's a sign she's bouncing between sexy check-in notes with Declan that make this island seem all right and people like Coraline screaming and crying over how much it fucking sucks.

The smart thing to do would be find Will or Magnus, talk some of this out. Even finding someone to spar with, that would work. Thing is, Kate's not that kind of smart. When it comes to helping Coraline? Sure. Yeah. She's been listening to Will do his shrink thing for years now. But when it comes to herself?

Fuck that noise. She'd still rather fuck and forget.

Kate leans her back against a post to watch the room, drinks another shot (hot wheels only, no training), and flirts at whatever makes eye contact. Whether she's Go or just Show, she hasn't decided yet. Mostly, she's trying not to look for anyone in particular. She's trying not to wish he'd come in and just...

Take her home.

[OOC: Find her at the Hub or the Winchester (let me know) any evening between now and the 20th. Available for all of your Freelander needs. If you need a specific date, email me, otherwise I'll work them out. For the record, Kate's very bi but a lot less available than she thinks she is.]

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She seemed to be inviting further interaction, and I was not opposed to such a thing, as bereft of friends as I was here. I was as cautious as ever, even in a place that seemed so far from conspiracies and from plots to kill me as payment for my mother's deeds. Still, I was mindful of my tendency toward isolation, and did not wish to hide myself away for whatever length I might be kept in such a place.

"This is my first visit to this establishment," I said to her in Cruithne, which seemed the prevailing language of the island. I glanced at her drink, though I could not venture a guess as to its contents. "Are you by chance familiar with the fare here?"

Aw, cute. Gorgeous has a French accent and he talks like a Renaissance Festival. Somewhere, Hank's probably giving her the killing stare. She'd introduce them in a second if Hank were here.

Kate pats the stool next to her, making the invitation clearer. "Yeah, some. Everything here's pretty good. It just depends on what you like."

I hesitated only a fraction of a moment before seating myself on the indicated stool, accustomed enough to wearing sword and daggers at my waist that I was able to execute the movement without awkwardness. "I am not yet entirely familiar with the cuisine of this island," I admitted, "as I only recently arrived. But what I have had thus far has been well made."

Aware I had not yet introduced myself, I gave her a small bow, just an inclination of my head and shoulders. "Well met, my lady. My name is Imriel."

She's about to tell him she doesn't know what's on special tonight. All she's been doing is drinking. But then he goes and calls her 'my lady'. She ignores the pang of Declan calls me that to smirk and shake her head.

"Not another one," she mock protests. "I keep telling you guys, I'm not a lady." She offers her hand, though. Gorgeous - Imriel; kind of sounds like an angel - seems like a handshake guy. She vaguely remembers Will spouting off something about shaking hands as a way of showing you didn't have hidden weapons way back when, too. "Name's Kate. Where are you from, Imriel?"

She was not the first I had met in this place who had somewhat to say about being called 'my lady'. It was strange to me, but I did what I could to take it in stride. Taking her hand in mine, I gently turned it and bent down to press a kiss to the back. "I am from a country called Terre d'Ange," I replied once I had straightened. "I have not met many here who know it."

"First I've heard of it." The kiss to her hand is cute. Sweet. Especially from a guy who looks like that.

Kate leans back against the counter on one elbow and watches him. Nothing subtle about it. "Sounds kind of French. What's it like?"

One of the first things I had done, as soon as I was able, was to find and consult a map. It had given me, ultimately, more questions than answers. "I have found since coming here that the places I know are not the same as the world many on this island know, and yet there are many similarities, such as my home and this France you mention," I said. "Terre d'Ange is a very beautiful country, made up of seven provinces and ruled by Queen Ysandre de la Courcel. It was founded by Blessed Elua and his eight Companions."

Gorgeous, sexy voice, pretty words. It's like listening to Magnus when she starts telling stories. Kate never lets on, but she loves it. It's her favorite part of long trips and retrievals with her, or the rare quiet night at home. She gestures politely for him to go on and asks, "What makes them Blessed?" to prompt him and keep him talking. She's enjoying the view.

He did come in for dinner though, so she grabs a menu and scans it. She points out something curried that looks good. "Oh, and if you don't mind spices, you'll like this."

"I am passing fond of spice," I replied with a faint smile, deliberately leaving a sense of ambiguity as to whether I was referring to the dish or somewhat else. A member of the waitstaff passed by and I ordered, taking care to inquire as to whether there was aught Kate desired for herself.

Once the order had been placed I answered her inquiry. "The full story of Blessed Elua and of his travels is a lengthy one," I explained, "but in short, he was conceived by the blood of Yeshua ben Yosef and the tears of Mary Magdalene, and birthed from the womb of Mother Earth herself. Eight of the One God's angels chose to come to Earth and free him when he was arrested in Persis, and from that day they traveled with him as his Companions. They eventually settled in the land that would become Terre d'Ange, where the people welcomed them with open arms, and it is from them all D'Angelines are descended."

"Get out," Kate says softly. She'd ordered another beer and now takes a long sip, shaking her head. "Seriously? Jesus and Mary had a kid with the Earth, eight angels went with him and they settled in your country." She's heard too much, seen too much, to doubt it, even if it sounds like the kind of crap kings make up to make themselves seem divine.

She tips her glass at him and it feels off-balance in her fingers. Time to slow down. "I guess being descended from angels would explain you being so hot."

I had to own, it sounded a bit ridiculous when she phrased it as such, or at least I could imagine it might for someone who was not from my home and who had not lived with such a tale as factual history. I, who had felt the whisper of bronze wings, who had been brought out of a hell on earth through the guiding hand of Elua himself, knew it to be true. "Even so," I confirmed with a nod.

My lips twitched at her next comment. It was not the first time since coming here I had been described by someone as 'hot', and I thought it was meant to be taken as a compliment, or so it seemed given the context of when I'd been given such a label. "The Courcel line is descended from Elua himself," I explained further. "That is my father's heritage. From my mother, I am descended from the angel Kushiel, who was once the Punisher of God."

"Huh." Kate whistles, playfully impressed, but she's not the type to fawn. It sounds like a lot of pressure to her. A destiny. Lots to live up to. They got a taste of that with Will being accidentally Kali's herald. It's not something she'd wish on anyone.

"Get anything fun with that? Superpowers, flying, magic? I mean, that's a lot of name to be carrying around. You should get something it." Sue her, she's curious.

"Superpowers?" I echoed, frowning in slight confusion. Had she not gone on to mention flying and magic, I might not have grasped what she meant by such a term. I gave a wry smile, unable to keep the smallest measure of bitterness from seeping into my tone. "No. What I get is to be a Prince of the Blood, third in line for the throne of Terre d'Ange. And had I not come here, a betrothal to the niece of the Cruarch of Alba."

"Was she cool, the niece of the...whatever? Did you like her?" Kate's got a real bug up her ass about arranged marriages. Some of the girls her mom wanted her to be friends with in Mumbai had them and they all acted like that was fine and normal. She shudders and sucks down a little too much of that beer she's been trying to slow down on.

"Cruarch," I repeated, my expression softening somewhat. Drustan was someone I respected; he was a good man, and as good a father as he could be to his two daughters though he must needs be elsewhere for much of their lives. "The ruler of the country of Alba, and the husband of Queen Ysandre. My marriage to Dorelei mab Breidaia was to strengthen the political alliance between our nations."

I paused, looking off into the middle distance for only a moment before my gaze sharpened and I turned it back to Kate. "And I like her well enough, but I don't know her. She seems...sweet. "

The way he says sweet almost makes her laugh. It's there in the curl of her lips and the spark in her eyes. Even if he's never been to her world, there's no mistaking Kate for sweet.

"And you wanted something a little less sweet?" she asks, watching him and trying to pick him apart. He's harder to read because his manners aren't familiar. "That must suck extra hard, married off to someone you don't know, who isn't your type, and everyone in the world watching so if you go looking for something you want more you're starting an international incident."

"In Terre d'Ange, it is a widely accepted practice for married couples to also have consorts, ones that are known and openly acknowledged," I explained. "But we would live in Alba, where such things are not looked upon favorably. I would be expected to be with her and her alone." Dorelei was sweet, I was not sweet at all, but somehow, if I was to agree to the marriage, I would have to find a way to find some gentleness within myself, for her.

Somehow Kate ends up staring bitterly into her beer glass that's mostly empty (she knows how). She drains it, then (stupidly, probably, but bad ideas are her specialty when she's drinking) orders another one with a tap on the counter. "Wish that were the norm here," she mutters, thinking of Declan. Why's he have to be so stubborn about her being with other people? It doesn't change how she feels about him.

She knows why that, too. It's not like she's all that keen on him climbing into bed with anyone else either.

"Perhaps I have not yet been here long enough to discern it," I ventured, "but it seems to me there is no such thing as one prevailing 'norm' here, save that no one do harm unto another." It seemed she was fixated on somewhat specific, perhaps that she did not wish sharing with a relative stranger, and understandably so. I could only give her my thoughts based on such things as I knew them to be.

"D'Angelines live by one precept, that of Blessed Elua, which says 'love as thou wilt'," I said. "To live thusly does not mean the same for everyone, nor could one possibly expect it to."

"Here on the island, yeah." Kate's noticed people don't seem too bent about what you do and who you do it with. There are a lot of openly gay couples, a lot more than at home, and if she's not exactly an activist, Kate still thinks you should fuck who you want to fuck and that's no one else's business.

"Where I come from, it's not like that, not like 'love as thou wilt'." It sounds familiar, but with as much alcohol as she has in her, she's having a hard time placing it. "It's more like your princess. A lot of us say we don't care who you're with and we don't. Pretty much right up until sex happens."

"I daresay love can be complicated regardless of where you come from," I observed, a bit wryly. Regardless of what we D'Angelines thought of love, and expressions of love, there were still emotions involved, still hearts that were meant to be handled with care or subjected to injury as the games of love and lust were played.

"I'll take your word for it. I'm not exactly an expert." Understatement of the century, unless they were sticking to family. That kind of love Kate knows how to do. It's just the mushy gooey seen-too-many romcom kind she's got no idea what to do with.

And that's kind of a problem, because she's pretty sure Declan at least thinks he loves her. Idiot.

"I don't claim to be one either," I replied with a shrug. "I'm simply learning as I go in the best way I know how, the same, I daresay, as anyone."

Kate nods and sips at her beer. She turns again and leans her elbows on the counter and shrugs down between her shoulders. "It's probably the accent. And the gorgeous. Good-looking French guys are like everyone's image of love experts in my world."

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[Oct. 13-20] full stops and exclamation marks

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