A Bite [Open]

[Victoria Ashwood]

The night was rearing to a close, much to Tori's relief.

It had been one hell of a night at Dante's; there had been too many people, too much body heat, too much... too much of everything, really. People had been too close to one another. Too many drinks had been poured, only to then be spilled when the men got just a hair too excited. But the money was good, and Fy insisted on providing her dinner on the days when she had to be called in. Tori wasn't one to turn down free food, after all; especially not when Mama Rudakov cooked all her might and yet still could not satisfy the child she had adopted.

Not that Victoria was going to tell her that, of course. Natalia and Rurik had been so kind, inviting her in and letting her stay with them. They asked for nothing and, though Victoria paid rent every month, continued to insist that she should save her money. They were taking care out of kindness, not for profit. That was why she couldn't tell them about her increased metabolism. Natalia already cooked enough to feed a small army; if Tori even hinted that she wasn't getting enough to eat, she just knew the Russian would only double her edible output. She couldn't have that.

Every work night, Tori left the club and headed for one of the cafes that littered the streets. There were plenty of vendors there, willing and wanting to take some of her tips off her hands. She could pick up a sandwich here, a basket of shrimp there. There was always time for a glass of tea, and then she could buy an extra Po' Boy to take home. She would wave off Natalia's care, but still the woman would insist she eat at least two bowls of whatever she had created that night. And, as usual, Victoria wouldn't turn it down.

A bird had to fly, and a bird had to eat. 

That was why she tucked into her third cafe for the night, this time only just ordering a double cheeseburger, a salad and a small coke. It would be enough to get her until she made it home, and her tips were more than enough to cover it. She tossed the waiter an extra three for his troubles, and then lifted the cheeseburger to her lips. 

She was done with half of it before the waiter had even returned to the counter.

WORDS ;; 416
THOUGHTS ;; fUCKING STARVING HOLY SHIT
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Open!
CREDIT ;; fallen by sarah mclachlan

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i can squeeze, you can shake me
i can feel when you break me

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

During his time in Chicago, Tamiel had taken to frequenting Dante's Inferno even when it wasn't Ladies' Night.

He wasn't there to look at the women, but he'd found that it had an incredibly conducive writing atmosphere for him. He'd come up with some of his best plot points there, and he'd started going there just to brainstorm ideas and to have a word or two with Fyrelia when she wasn't busy, just enough to say hi and let her know he was still visiting. He'd gotten strange vibes several times when he'd gone in, but he still couldn't place what had been different about those nights. Tonight had been one of them. Maybe it was the music. He wasn't quite sure.

Regardless, Tamiel was getting hungry before the night's end and there were a great deal of nearby food vendors and cafes. He'd left Dante's early and had stopped by a place he'd never eaten at before, in hopes that he might sate himself with food as well as pick up an idea or two for his book. He'd ordered a bacon cheeseburger, no onions (he hated onions, how they stung at the eyes and throat and drew tears the same way that a gut-wrenching dread might do it, but the way they did it was cheap and fickle and pointless and without feeling) and a small diet soda, and he'd sipped at it while making a few notes in his writing notebook.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as the door opened, and Tamiel glanced up. Some sort of angel. Figures. They were getting more and more common these days.

But when he looked at Tori, he recognized despite the low lighting that he'd seen her at Dante's Inferno. Just that night, even. She'd been running the music, by the looks of it. Fyrelia was a demon and certainly wouldn't employ any regular angel--and she had to have known that this girl was some sort of angel.

The push wasn't quite as strong as it might have otherwise been, and then it dawned on him. Another Nephilim, sitting right here in Chicago, devouring a cheeseburger as his was going cold. He picked at it a little bit, but his appetite had faded in favor of excitement.

Tamiel ate it anyway, of course, shoving the burger down his throat with little of his usual grace or style but still managing to not get any of it on himself. His soda wasn't done, but he didn't really mind if it went flat or watered down. He did, however, mind if he didn't get to talk to a Nephilim in Fy's employ--if only to ask a few questions, maybe pick up just a glimmer of inspiration. So he approached her, then stopped, realizing he had absolutely no idea how to approach this situation without seeming completely weird.

"Er," he started. "Hi. Um. I'm, ah, I'm a friend of Fy's, and I've seen you around... that area before, and... This sounds so strange. I'm gay, I promise. I just want to talk. I've got a few questions for you, and you can say no or leave at any time. Sorry if I'm bothering you."

He chastised himself for sounding so awkward and uncertain, but he wasn't sure there'd been a better way to ask.

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 556 ::
notes :: this is my longest post wow ::
tagged :: Victoria Ashwood ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: uneasy ::

[Victoria Ashwood]

The food was enough to put her into a good mood. The fact that she was going to get another serving as soon as she got home was enough to have her wings fluttering. Victoria didn't mean to be such a pig, as she knew there were those out there who would call her such, but she needed the food. She needed to eat as much as she did, perhaps even more. Natalia was constantly telling her she was too thin, too sickly. She needed more food on her stomach and more fat on her body.

She crammed the cheeseburger into her mouth, washed it down with her coke. Never once did she lift her gaze from the food, even when her wings twitched this way and that. Victoria wasn't sure if she was picking up the feeling of the waiter watching her, wondering where on earth she put all that food, or the gaze of another patron. Whoever it was, Tori knew better than to look up and look around. You never met anyone's gaze, especially not anyone in the city.

Meeting the eyes of another was seen as a challenge, perhaps more so now that supers had come out, and she wanted nothing to do with violence or anger. She just wanted to eat her supper, pay her bill, and then get out as soon as possible. With that in mind, Tori picked at the salad, debating on whether or not she wanted to eat it or take it home in a bag, but then decided it was better to eat now. She was halfway done with the salad when someone -- a man, she noted -- approached her. Tori slowly lowered the fork.

The Nephilim was ready to run, if she had to. Her wings were tense, fluttering so fast they appeared to be vibrating. She appeared to be vibrating. There was something about this man that unnerved her. It wasn't anything he said or did, as he both seemed very polite, and he did claim to be gay. Granted, that last part could have been a lie, but it wasn't the usual lie a man used when he approached. Usually they claimed to be artists or photographers or actors.. Gay just wasn't used a lot.

So why was she so ready to run?

"I... I, um..." Great, she was already failing at this whole talking thing. Was there anything she could do right? "I'm sorry, I don't..."

Apparently not.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

WORDS ;; 419
THOUGHTS ;; sTRANGER DANGER STRANGER DANGER
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; fallen by sarah mclachlan

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i can squeeze, you can shake me
i can feel when you break me

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

"I know what you are and I want to help," Tamiel said on an exhale, his voice quiet and breathy. "You probably know by now there are people who want to hurt you. I don't think it's right. I want to protect and educate you and people like you. You probably don't believe me, but you can ask Fy about it the next time you talk to her. Ask her about, oh, what did we call it. I think it was 'Bird School for Birds.' The name is a joke, and a placeholder, but she'd tell you about the concept if you asked, if you don't trust me to tell you."

He stepped back, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket as his voice grew louder again, but only to the volume one would expect of a normal conversation indoors. "I'm just a writer and I want to help. But if you want to be left alone... that's alright too." He took another step back, trying to keep himself comfortable and at the same time give her distance so she might calm down a little. She looked like she was about to bolt at any minute.

She could probably feel that he was a demon, and he cursed himself for not thinking of that earlier. "I am sorry if I've bothered you or interrupted you or anything. I'm not trying to be intrusive. I... I just know that it's hard. To be alone. And so if you are alone, which you may not be... I just wanted to offer my help. I, um. I'd like to talk more, but I think this may not have been the best time for that. If you want to talk... I'll be here. If you'd rather not do it directly, Fy's got my number--describe me and she'll know who you're talking about--and she'll tell you anything and everything you need to know."

This had gone nothing like he'd hoped it would, but with the general unsettling feeling he got around Nephilim in the first place and his desire to make a good impression overriding everything else, he'd fucked it up. So, with a nod, he went back to his seat and became intensely focused on draining his soda dry.

Tamiel hoped he hadn't made her too nervous to even think about talking to him, but he feared that it was exactly what he had done.

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 404 ::
notes :: word count not found ::
tagged :: Victoria Ashwood ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: resigned, regretful ::

[Victoria Ashwood]

“I know what you are.”

That, in itself, was enough to make her tense. Though the wings were obvious, most people just assumed she was a full angel, or a Plus with an odd mutation. They never assumed she was a half-breed. Her wings picked up in speed at the thought, vibrating with such force that they almost lifted the Nephilim off the chair. She tried to look cool, tried to look as though everything was completely normal and this wasn't freaking her out. Unfortunately, trying to look cool and actually looking cool were two very different things, and right now Tori looked like a rabbit two inches from a full blown panic attack.

But then he mentioned Fy, and the attack subsided, at least for now. Though her wings continued to vibrate, Tori tried to force herself to concentrate on what he had said. She took deeper breaths, forced herself to think, instead of just fear. Fyrelia was a demon to be reckoned with. She was a woman no one challenged, and a demon no one dared to mess with. She knew many, but trusted very little. For this man to throw her name around meant that he must have been...

He must have been trustworthy. Fyrelia wouldn't just vouch for anyone, especially when it came to the safety of her both her clients and her employees -- her "girls" as she called them. And, though she wasn't a dancer, Tori did work for the demon. She was like a little bird, old and strong enough to leave the nest, but too fragile and afraid to survive without a little bit of help. Was that why Fy had sent him after her, then? Did she really trust him that much?

It would certainly appear so.

Tori looked up, to talk to the stranger and ask him a few questions, when she realized he had wandered off. While she was thinking and contemplating what he had said, the demon must have taken himself back to his seat. She could have left it there; they both knew that. And yet she couldn't bring herself to do that. Though she wasn't sure why, Tori just knew she had to stand up and confront the man that had come to confront her.

Standing, ignoring her food, Victoria Ashwood slowly made her way towards Tamiel. When she finally stood before him, Tori couldn't even say anything, not at first. Instead, she simply wrung her fingers, fiddled with the rings on her fingers. Then, finally, she managed out,

"Why?"

WORDS ;; 423
THOUGHTS ;; friend? friend?
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; fallen by sarah mclachlan

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

"Why?" It was as good a question as any. Why did he want to help Nephilim? Certainly others of Tamiel's kind would've tried to kill her on the spot upon seeing her wings--the less angels in the world, the better, right? She still had the potential to hurt him badly if she so chose, and that could make things get very bad for him very quickly.

But if this one was on the side of demons, then he figured she wasn't planning on doing that, especially if all he'd intended was an escapade half in chivalry and half in retaliation. After all, if he was going to be cast down for being one of the first to spawn these beings, he was going to do his damnedest to keep them alive, both because they deserved life as sentient beings and because it was spit in the face of the one he felt the most bitterness toward these days.

"Because I was a Watcher," he finally said after what felt like a very long time. "Far from the first angels to fall, sure, but we were the first to fall for falling in love with humans. The first to fall for having... relations with them. For having children." He stopped, licking his lips, then shook his head. "I didn't want kids at the time, because I didn't realize I wasn't attracted to women... yet. But... now that I can't have any, I feel like I should help protect and aid those that have come into this world. Can't be a father, so be the badass uncle instead, I suppose." Tamiel shrugged. "Having a real family isn't feasible for me with how much I travel around and... honestly, get around. But I'd still like to help people like you in the way a parent or other guardian figure might. Hence, Bird School for Birds."

Tamiel leaned back in his seat, looking at Tori with interest. "So, if you're... interested, I guess, in that sort of thing, you should let me know. I'm not going to ask you to decide right now, but I can give you my number if you do need more time." He folded his arms in the least aggressive and confrontational manner he could--he was just doing it because it was a comfortable position at this point--and let his shoulders relax. Things had gone better than he'd expected, at least.

She looked nervous as hell, so he smiled at her. "There's no pressure either way. I just want you to know that... well, I mean, all angels are related by blood, technically, so we are... technically family, no matter which way you slice it. And I want to be there for those that I can call family. If you'd like to be one of those people, just let me know."

His arms unfolded again slowly as he picked up his cup and drained it of the last of its contents, then waited for the Nephilim in front of him to make a move one way or the other.

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 509 ::
notes :: birbs ::
tagged :: Victoria Ashwood ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: sort of confident, but sort of uneasy ::

[Victoria Ashwood]

To be fair, Victoria didn't have the foggiest idea what Tamiel was talking about. The only things she knew about God and His Angels were what her father had taught her, and what she managed to read out of the Bible. Granted, with her reading level, that hadn't been much, but, then again, the Bible also wasn't overly complicated -- at least not on the surface. So when Tamiel started bringing out words like "Watcher," Tori wasn't exactly sure what was going on. But she still nodded as though she did, even smiled a little.

She did understand a little of what she was told, though, and finally broke her silence with, "I think... I think understand. That part, I mean. I mean..." Oh, great. She may have been talking, but she certainly wasn't making any sense. "I mean the part about wanting to help family. I live with a man and his mother, and I help take care of his kids and her sometimes, and--" She cut herself off, wrapping one arm around her chest, to hold onto the opposite arm. "Sorry."

She really had to learn to watch how much she said. It wasn't good to talk so much, the Nephilim reminded herself; she only said what was asked of her, and nothing more. Victoria reached up, to push a strand of hair behind her ear, and shifted this way, and then that. She knew she needed some help; no one had ever bothered to be there for her, or to teach her about the ways of the angels. Everything she had discovered about herself she had done on her own, from flying to healing. It would be nice to have someone there.

But even if he was there, and even if he really did want to help, how could he? She was too old to properly learn anything, at least according to the experts. And wouldn't allying with someone bring more negative attention to herself? And what about Rurik's children, and his mother? She had to be able to come home at the end of the day and help out. The children needed her. Mama Rudakov loved her. And Rurik... Well, someone needed to keep Rurik out of trouble. That someone happened to be her.

"I... I have to be able to come home, at the end of the day," she said, shifting once more. It was difficult for her to much demands, especially after a lifetime of submissiveness. "I have children to take care of, and a sort of mother in law to keep healthy. I can't go anywhere or do anything that requires leaving them."

WORDS ;; 441
THOUGHTS ;; May be new friend!!!!
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; fallen by sarah mclachlan

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

The demon gnawed on the end of his straw as he thought. It seemed clear that the Nephilim lived in Chicago, and he was spending an awful lot of time here. Having a home within travelling distance of Dante's had its perks, and a change of scenery would always lift his spirits. Maybe the answer was as clear as it seemed to him in that moment.

"I don't have as much money as I'd really like," Tamiel admitted, wincing a little, "but I've been thinking about having another home here anyway. I can make do. If that'd make things easier for you, I'd be happy to do it. This wouldn't interfere with your work or with your home duties. I just... it seems that you're unfamiliar with some of the things I'm talking about, so I think it'd be good for me to help you out. I was a professor once a long time ago for a little while, so my skills might be a little rusty. But I pride myself on my speaking ability, so I should hopefully be able to aid you with whatever you need aid."

He flipped his notebook to a clean page, lifting his pencil and barely touching the graphite to the paper. "If this works for you and you intend to... go along with this, I suppose, I'd like to know what you'd like to work on first. I'll write it down so that I can... make a lesson plan of sorts. This is, of course, assuming that you want to do this, and if you don't, I can respect that. Family comes first, and... that's why I'm trying to help you, I suppose, but I understand that you'd prioritize the family you're closer to over me and I'm not offended if you do." Tamiel looked down at the paper, letting the pencil tap at the page in an erratic rhythm. "We could even still keep in touch if you didn't want or have time to learn things. If you do, though, I promise I won't assign homework." A small smile touched his lips. "So I hope you'll take me up on this."

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 359 ::
notes :: tamiel needed a base in the us anyway ::
tagged :: Victoria Ashwood ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: hopeful ::

[Victoria Ashwood]

"Oh, no!" Victoria raised her hands, palms out in a very submissive positions. Her head ducked, just a bit, and her posture lowered. Even her wings hunched back, pressing tightly against the flesh of her back. "No, I didn't mean to... No, you don't have to do that. I know it's expensive, living here, and I... I mean, I've been getting along great so far. I have my," she paused, briefly, "my family I take care of. I didn't mean to make you..."

She fell quiet then, her hands dropping, her eyes falling to the floor. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. She should have known better than to say something like that. Now she was going to force him to up and move, to pull his roots and be located in two different cities. That was a selfish thing to ask of him, just as it was selfish for her to move in with the Rudakovs and weasel into their lives. She was just a stranger, both to them and to him. She had no right to ask anything from any of these people.

"I'm sorry."

Her arms came up, so she could wrap herself up in the loneliest hug to ever be hugged. Her wings sagged a little, as if now resigned to whatever was to happen. "I... I mean, if you're going to have a reason to be here, then... But, please, don't move here because of me. I swear to you, I'm not worth it. It's expensive to live here." A little smile curved her lips up, and she shuffled. "Just ask my roommates. I swear, the food bill has doubled since I moved in."

WORDS ;; 276
THOUGHTS ;; I apologize for shortness
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; fallen by sarah mclachlan

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

Putting the pencil down, Tamiel's eyebrows drew close in concern. There was something... wrong. There was the obvious, that he'd just upset her, but she'd gotten unnaturally apologetic about the idea of him moving if it was convenient for her. Low self-esteem, maybe? Or maybe something more. Tamiel didn't know what it was, but now he was dead-set on finding out.

"To be honest, I wanted a place closer to Dante's anyway," he started. "But you shouldn't feel bad for wanting to learn. Come now. Sit down and tell me about yourself." He gestured to the seat across from him. Part of him was curious about why she was acting this way, but another part entirely rationalized that he definitely needed to know more about her before he tried to teach her. Maybe then he could figure out what she needed to learn on his own, rather than asking her what she thought her shortcomings were. After all, given her current demeanor, it seemed that she would have quite the list. "Anything you feel comfortable telling me, you can tell me. I'd like to know everything starting from the beginning, but I'll go for the earliest that you're okay with. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and it won't inconvenience me. I'm just curious." He tried his hardest to remember to be careful with what he said so that she couldn't misinterpret it as him being particularly giving.

Then again, he was a demon. Being nice and giving wasn't really supposed to be in his nature in the first place, and he usually did it to benefit himself at least to some extent. Was even this benefitting him by making him feel like less of a monster? Or was it genuine selflessness in trying to help beings that had caused his fall in the first place? Tamiel pondered this for a moment. He was trying to protect Nephilim from being killed just as he would be killed at the hands of angels if they so chose to seek him out. It was a bit of a spit in the face to them, and... he was protecting innocent creatures.

So he wasn't going completely soft, only as soft as he normally was. That was workable. Tamiel wondered if he was really any good at being a demon, all things considered. Was he too nice? He certainly didn't feel powerful enough to actually be a demon. Most of them had teleportation and fire and such, whereas all Tamiel could do was change his form--fairly standard, actually, for one of their kind. He had less powers and all of the weaknesses. Maybe it would've been better to stay a fallen angel and stay locked up in that valley.

Tamiel looked at Tori, then internally shook his head. No. He might be able to help this girl, and that was worth the fall and the descent. He wasn't going to tell her that--she'd probably get self-conscious--but he knew it somewhere deep in his chest, and that was what mattered.

"You can start whenever you're ready."

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 512 ::
notes :: you could type this out or we could timeskip to where she's talking about a plot point ::
tagged :: Victoria Ashwood ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: curious, introspective ::

[Victoria Ashwood]

Closer to Dante's? Oh. Oh, right; he had mentioned that he was a friend of Fyrelia's. And, as she had tried to rationalize to herself earlier, any friend of Fy's was a friend worth trusting, at least for right now. She could afford to trust him, just as much as she had, for right now. Aside from having Fy as a friend, he also seemed to know quite a bit about her and her situation, though more from experience than any sort of apparent supernatural meddling. 

"Look, I... I really don't want to put you out," she repeated, her wings rustling slightly. Her eyes shifted from the demon to the table, then back to the demon once more. Her wings shifted once more. "But... but if you're going to be-- And I mean it, only if you're going to be here, then I guess I could... I mean, it couldn't-- couldn't hurt."

That much was the truth. She really could use with the help, after all. She had no idea what she was, no idea why she was the way she was. All she knew was that her father had taken one look at her wings and set himself to lock her away. She was his shame, the demon spawn of an unfaithful wife. She was God's curse on a holy man.

That sounded like some sort of three dollar Christian book, now that she thought about it. Job's Curse for the Modern Man: Or, How to Tell When You're Surrounded by the Unfaithful. The mere thought was enough to bring a light laugh to her lips, a noise that was almost like a bubbling tinkle. It sounded like something her father would actually buy or, even worse, something he might actually have had a hand in creating. 

But then the man brought up something that, though Tori had just been thinking about, she really had no intention of delving into again. She didn't care to think about what had happened to her, or how her father had effectively ruined her life with his words and fists. Truth be told, Tori had not even told Rurik or Mama Rudakov about her family, though she suspected they knew something. It was hard not to suspect when one acted as Tori did. But just because they suspected did not mean she wanted anyone knowing.

Slowly, the Nephilim lowered herself into a seat. After a moment of fiddling with the bottom of her skirt, she said, "I don't know what you want me to say." And, to be fair, that was true, even if it was a bit of a stalling technique. "I was born in Louisiana. I had four older siblings -- have, I suppose. My mom stayed at home. My dad, and my brother when he got older, hunted alligators. We never had a lot of money." 

At that, she shrugged.

"My grandfather was the mayor of the town, but we never got to see him. Daddy always said he was sick, or something. I grew up on the farm, never went to school much. I helped Momma out when I could, especially since by the time I came around, all my sisters were gone. Moved up here when I was about fifteen. Now I live with a family of Russians." Another shrug. Her eyes fell to the ground. "So, I mean..."

WORDS ;; 560
THOUGHTS ;; No more shortness!!
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; fallen by sarah mclachlan

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

The fallen angel listened intently to Tori's short tale, then nodded slightly. "I was planning on setting up somewhere in the States. The fact that Fyrelia is here made me more inclined toward Chicago, and I think a lot of people in this place need help. You needing my help just sealed that this is where I want to be--you and a few others, anyway. There have been other people in this city that have also needed my help." He didn't need to mention that Winter actually lived in London and wouldn't have required him to move--this girl clearly needed his help, and being close to Dante's was something that seemed to be good for his writing anyway.

And maybe he was considering the idea of asking to work there more than he should have been. That wasn't important right now.

"You mentioned you didn't go to school much." He wrote that down in his notebook. "How much did you attend, exactly? If you'd left at fifteen, you couldn't have even gotten through high school... Were you homeschooled at all, or...?" Tamiel was very curious about the Nephilim's education. "As I said, I am fairly decent at teaching, so I can get you up to speed on what you've missed in addition to educating you on your... things. And all of this without a cost, and without taking you away from work or those you hold close to you. Once I start making enough money, I'd even be happy to feed you lunch, if that's something you're interested in."

Tamiel tapped his pencil on his paper, trying to think. "I'm just concerned about you and others like you, and I want to do everything I can to help you out. You're not the only one I'm doing this for... I just realized I never caught your name." He shook his head, frustrated with himself. "Fy might have mentioned it once or twice, but I don't recall what it was. I'm very sorry."

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 332 ::
notes :: sorry it took so long! ::
tagged :: Victoria Ashwood ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: conflicted ::

[Victoria Ashwood]

There was a hint of hesitation from Tori's end, especially when he mentioned her education. No, she most certainly had not had much schooling over her short life. Full time, all the way up until second grade, and then she had been forced to grab what she could learn from her brother's homework. It hadn't been easy, and she wasn't even sure she had learned as much as she liked to think she had. But it was something, and it was something more than saying she had nothing.

Her tongue flicked out, moistening her lips, and a single shoulder rose then fell in a shrug.

"Made it through elementary school, at least." The Nephilim was a better liar than many would have thought, and so she hoped the casual lie was enough to fool him. It would have to, at least until he made her sit down and try to actually read something. "After that, I started helping around the house. Helpin' Momma out was more important than going to school and bein' Jackson's tag-a-long little sis, y'know? Especially when we weren't sure when the next meal was gunna come."

Okay, so if you mixed a little truth in with the lies, they sounded a lot more convincing, especially when the truth was real, and had left its own scars on you. But that was okay, because no one needed an education to throw a good mix together, and what was math going to do for you while you were out switching records? It was all about making money, especially in this city. 

Well, perhaps not completely. Fyrelia had known hiring a DJ wasn't going to be a profitable thing, at least not at first. But still she had seen the little, scrawny Nephilim and had offered her a job at the turntables, with a part time gig at the bar. If she was lucky, Fy would even give her time on the stage. That hadn't happened but once, and that had been quite the experience. But she had gone home with more money than she had ever seen before, and all because of a kind demon.

Hell, perhaps she could get more, if this demon really did mean what he said.

"Victoria," she said, after a moment of silence. She hadn't even realized she was thinking so deep as to ignore his entire question. "Victoria Ashwood, actually. But everyone just calls me Tori. Or, well... Fy calls my Feathers, but that's different." And that was just Fy, friendly demon to the end. "But, really, I don't want to put you out. From what I've heard, writing isn't a very... high paying job."

WORDS ;; 443
THOUGHTS ;; Jesus, he's about the nicest demon ever. 
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; fallen by sarah mclachlan

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

Tamiel's voice caught in his throat. "E-elementary school." His lower lip quivered slightly. He very dearly wanted to draw the Nephilim up into his arms and hold her until he was physically incapable of doing so anymore, but he refrained. "You poor thing." Much as he'd been trying to hide it, his voice was shaking, and he was worried she might feel it was her own fault. "Don't... don't worry. I can teach you without you ever having to worry about your next meal. I can do it for as long as you need--I like teaching people--and I'm more than happy to bring you up to speed, as far as it takes, and then I'll teach you what you need to know about surviving in this world. It's hard for your kind, sometimes, and, um. That's why this is important."

He tapped his pencil on his paper frantically, then scrawled "Elementary school." beneath his previous note, hard enough to snap the graphite on the period. "Sorry, I just... I don't think anyone should have to go through that. It sounds like you've had it pretty... well, hard. I'd like to try to ease some of that, at least. Um. If you ever need me, for... anything, really, like if you get in trouble, think of me like... well, a relative that you'd never met. You can call me if you need help moving, or if you need a bit of money, or you're in a tight spot... anything, really. I try to be there for the people I care about, and even though I hardly know you, you're... part of a group I've taken it upon myself to protect."

Tamiel sighed, staring down at his notebook. "That probably sounded really creepy, I'm sorry. I'm Tamiel, though I don't know if that's what I'll be going by when I get things started. It's a little... too public. I've got another name that I'm equally fond of that's less publicized..." Sighing, he shrugged, put his pencil down, and looked back up at Tori.

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 341 ::
notes :: he's going into shock about her schooling ::
tagged :: Victoria Ashwood ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: still shocked ::

[Victoria Ashwood]

There was no denying the confusion on Victoria's face when Tamiel broke his cool to stumble over her own words. So she had no schooling past second grade, but that was just how her life had panned out. She had been taken from school to help out at home, and to hide the wings that her father had grown to hate. It was no fault of the demon's, and it was certainly no one else's fault. It was just her own; hers, and her father's.

Her shoulder rose and fell once more, a half shrug that betrayed more than she had dared to release.

"It's just school. I learned how to read a little, write a little, and then started taking care of a house. That's what's important to the people down there; a woman has to be able to take care of her house and keep her husband and children happy. It's paying off now, though. I'm helping my roommates take care of the little apartment we're in."

That was the truth. Though she would have loved to have gone to school, Tori knew it was more for the friends than the knowledge that she would have traded her childhood. She cared nothing for math that she would never use, nor for history facts that would do her no good. She had learned how to fix a meal that would satisfy even the hungriest of men. She had learned how to clean a house, and how to do her mother's makeup. There were so many things home had taught her that school, as hard as it tried, never would have been able to.

"Look, I'm not big on trusting strangers; never really have been. My dad was a racist, and my mother stayed inside the house, or stayed in church. All I knew for the first fourteen or so years of my life were those four walls, and my family. So forgive me for bein' a bit skeptical." Tori shoved her hands into her pockets, shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Especially since other beings tend to want... whatever the hell I am dead."

As she had already experienced once. Luckily, only once.

WORDS ;; 364
THOUGHTS ;; Just gotta think about this. 
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; fallen by sarah mclachlan