Everything, Because of Nothing [Aello, Gural]

by **Aello** on August 31st, 2011, 1:06 am

Aello had just managed to turn down another narrow alleyway by the time Lark had caught up with her. When he had, she stopped short, and turned to face him. "Some of us do not have a place to call home," she explained, her voice sounding strangely calm after everything that had occurred in Odds and Ends. "We wander from place to place constantly looking for a place to finally settle down, but find no where that satisfies. Thus, we are forced to keep looking," she went on, before pausing a moment. "And don't think your sad attempts at seduction have gone unnoticed," she added hesitantly. "For they have not gone... unnoticed. Although," there was a slight pause as she looked down at her feet for a moment, before locking onto Victor's eyes, "you should cut it out. Your attempts aren't exactly what one would consider... desirable," she finished, before turning back around, half-heartedly reaching for his arm with her free hand, so that she may drag him along, through the city streets.

"And we can discuss that symbol all you want, as long as we reach a place where we will not be overheard, or disturbed," Aello explained, as she led the way over a narrow bridge, which connected their street to another portion of the town. "There is an alley not far from here, which should suffice," she continued, not bothering to turn around and face him directly as she spoke. Not bothering to slow down, and make sure he was keeping up with her. "Just another few minutes and we shall be there," she went on, before falling silent for a while. "Did you think to rip out the important sections of that book... inconspicuously of course, so you wouldn't be caught, and scolded again. For being such a bad boy and all," she added, only somewhat jokingly.

by **Victor Lark** on September 5th, 2011, 10:10 pm

Her words touched on his teenage romanticism deeper than he liked. Unlike their namesake, the Larks were far from migratory, content to stay within the fear and protection of the city’s watery walls. Only recently had Victor dared to consider parting from the flock and trying out his own wings. As she spoke, he found himself wondering yet again what it would feel like to fly away from that place. He became cheery, less inclined to choose annoyance.

"Your attempts aren't exactly what one would consider... desirable." All he could do was laugh as she began to pull him through the streets. He could never be certain enough, when it came to the indescribable suggestions between words, but he almost thought he heard some secret hesitation in the pause. He latched onto it, carefully watching for another hint in the back of her jaw and the loose blanket of bouncing hair that flailed behind her, but she seemed so determined to find that future place. Even before they reached it, he began to doubt the assumption he had made. The ambiguity unnerved him. He did not know whether to stand close and let his hands speak, to berate her with clever insults, or to listen patiently to what she had to say.

But then she called him a name, and he took it for more than it was. She had had drawn a smile on his lips by turning the conversation back to his lost book, and it was pulled taught as he came to his own conclusions. The trace lines of lust that almost perpetually tinged his aura flared briefly between the predominating yellows of curiosity. “Alas! I did not. I have found out enough, I think. Maybe I will wander to Alvadas, and settle down with Ionu, and ask him personally what the rest of it would have said.”

Though it began as a joke, Victor’s own words became ideas that could be left to fester in the back of his mind. For now, however, there were more immediate mysteries to solve. He thought he saw her stray from the road, if only a little, and so he followed her imagined lead. He tugged toward the alley which he had assumed was hers, pulling her by the wrist towards the hard brick wall. “I think I didn’t need to rip out those pages. Why else would you bring me out here, if not to reveal to me what you know about Ionu?” If she had not already grabbed him or pushed him away, their toes would touch and their noses might as well have. Victor produced the little vildani again and traced the star’s end over the soft arc of her cheekbone. “Or maybe you don’t know anything; maybe you just get off on rebellion.”

A shrug. It described him more than her, but he had once learned that assumptions, no matter how false, lead to answers just as well as questions. “There’s no fault in that. But you have to commit to it! Say it out loud, here, where no one but the gods can hear you, and see if they do anything about it.” His voice did not lower or falter; there was a promise on his too-close lips as he asserted, “Say, Rhysol is not my god.”

by **Aello** on September 6th, 2011, 1:36 am

"If he would bother talking to the likes of you directly, not through the use of one of the hallucinations he sounds more than capable of conjuring up," Aello replied as the shadow of his hand crossed her right arm, before his hand sank to her skin. She could feel his fingers winding their way around her flesh, like a spider when it spun its silk around a fly that had been caught in its web. Aello turned to look at his fingers, "what are you doing?" she asked, as her eyes widened with the sudden burst of wind that flew into her face. The result of the force it took for Victor to pull her into a nearby alley, and press her back into the brick wall.

Aello winced as her flesh met its hard surface, for the coarse texture of the brick rubbed up uncomfortably against her clothing. Its unwillingness to bend to her body making the pain it caused her worse, for Lark seemed to push her ever so slightly, so that she would stay, leaving Aello with no where to go. She could feel his toes stepping lightly onto hers, as their noses brushed, sending a small tingling sensation through it, and down to her lips; a prickle of annoyance. "The only knowledge that exists is the little you shared from what you read in that book," Aello said, rather cooly. "And I don't 'get off' on rebellion," she added as pale pink pigmentation made its way inwards, from the outer reaches of her cheeks. Her skin was beginning to feel hot under Lark's stare, and she couldn't help but cast her gaze down from his eyes to their feet. She stared at them for a few moments, before looking up again, at the touch of the strange symbol on her flesh.

The girl shuddered, as her grip tightened around her father's old bow. "He is not my god," she whispered, as she stared into Lark's grey eyes. "Never was, never will be. But even so, it is foolish to speak against him openly, despite the hatred we hold in our hearts. It is unwise not to fear the God that he is, for even his people seem to do so." There was a slight pause, "and while there is an appealing aspect, to looking to the guidance of others, it is unwise to speak of them openly in a city such as this. To voice your love for them, if any love could exist; if anything more than your curiosity could rule your mind."

With that, the girl extended her free hand to Lark's pectoral muscle. If he didn't pull away, she would hold her hand just above his beating heart. Slowly, Aello would pull her palm off of him, while she allowed her fingers to linger, just for a moment, before she pulled all but her index finger off. Slowly, she would move the finger counter-clockwise, in circles, tracing the outline of the muscle as she stared at her finger, then past it. "Illusions are an interesting concept are they not? Forcing one to see that which is not there... forcing one to think that what is false is in actuality, a reality," Aello whispered as she brought her finger to a halt just above the muscle. "Tricking people has an appeal. It's fun to play games with others, much like Rhysol and his men play games with us. It could come in handy, get you out of trouble if you know how to create a web of illusions well enough." There was a slight pause as Aello moved the rest of her fingers together, creating a small wall of flesh. She would push them towards Lark, lightly into his flesh, brushing them up his muscle towards his left shoulder, where they would curl around his bone. Pressing lightly into him.

"It sounds like Ionu creates a sort of dream. Except, from this dream, there is no waking up," Aello commented, her voice shaking a little. She didn't like the idea of not being able to wake up from a dream; especially if it were a nightmare. Especially if it were anything like being in Ravok; where you always felt haunted, and hunted, and not at all capable of leaving despite it all.

OOCOh dear, some things never change. What did I tell you about the alleyways V?

by **Victor Lark** on September 11th, 2011, 4:02 pm

Victor’s eyes itched to roll at her explanation: so many words, many of which meant to do some sort of harm to his nearly impenetrable ego. But he let her talk. He had learned that when people talked, even when it was not about themselves, they often dropped delicious secrets without realizing. Her talk meant, on some level, that she trusted him—even if it was only enough to care whether he were gobbled up by the Ebonstryfe.

He discovered a breath and took advantage of the pause. “Getting out of trouble is only half the game!” He mumbled happily, “But I am sure that, if a person were in Ionu’s favor, the dreams he grants would not be so bad.” Steel-cast eyes finally freed hers of their piercing grasp in favor of glancing down at her hand where it touched him idly, almost affectionately. As he saw it, her gestures confirmed any suspicions he had about the success of his attempts, and he reveled in the advantage.

With a cocky smile smeared onto one side of his mouth, he obliged her idle touches by lifting an elbow to lean against the wall behind her. As their proximity steadied, his other hand rose to finger the hair in front of her ear. It was not the point to steal a kiss from her lips; he wanted to see if she craved the taste of his. Alas, the teenager was not without his own opinions of the prospect. The change of events had been the result of a try at tricking, and he was on the brink of falling into his own trap. “Would you call yourself a trickster?” He asked below his breath. “What kinds of games do you like to play? Perhaps I will play them with you! But the first rule is you have to tell me your name.” Their noses finally converged. “Mine is Victor.”

by **Aello** on September 12th, 2011, 12:02 am

"Does that mean the other half is getting into it?" Aello asked as she followed his line of sight with her own. It looks like he likes it, Aello thought, as a satisfied smile swept across her pale lips. Now only if he could be drawn a little closer into the web, then the spider could crawl out of its hiding place and wrap the fly tightly in its silver silk, Aello thought as her eyes danced over her own fingers, wondering if he would lift his hand to make them move. When she saw the shadow of it coming towards her, she held her breath, waiting for it to settle on something. Her hair? Now why would he want to run his fingers through that tangled mess? Aello wondered, as she felt a small tug around her scalp. She ignored it however, the slight pain was nothing compared to some of the things she had experienced before.

Aello let his hand linger there for as long as he wanted, just before their noses brushed. She could feel Victor's hot breath on her cheek as she stared into his eyes, wondering what on earth could be going through that head. Does he mean to kiss me? Or just get in close enough for me to think that he does? Or is he simply getting close enough to whisper to me, and not be overheard, while who knows who walks by?

Aello's mind kept throwing out questions as she whispered over them all, "no, not a trickster, nor one to play games. Rather, quite the opposite, one who likes to get to the point of things. As opposed to wasting time going in circles in word and action." There was a slight pause as Aello's eyes shimmered and she glanced down at Lark's lips. Taking in their shape- the light curve of the bottom lip into the top, their color, how soft they looked, before staring into his eyes once more. She hoped it was enough to convince him to lean in for a gentle kiss on the lips, at least, it seemed as though he really wanted one.

Aello did nothing for several more seconds, other than stare into Lark's eyes, waiting, before she finally whispered, "Aello. Now what's the second rule?"

by **Victor Lark** on September 16th, 2011, 1:52 am

OOCSorry it's short. Didn't want to get too far ahead.

Victor laughed; his face retreated from hers a mere inch. He had let the stare linger until she spoke again, but when he heard her answer his brow arced and he changed his tactic. Those pupils which had been locked on hers like a pair of heavy, heated swords flitted away on a hummingbird’s wings as he glanced idly at the wall to the side of her ear. He filled that spot with the hand that had caressed her hair and readjusted the other accordingly, so that his palms clutched the rough brick and his straight arms escaped into her peripherals. They were two fleshy bars to hold her in, but they were more bark than bite. If Aello wished it, she could probably bend him and flee with little trouble. Victor would not be the one to make the suggestion, however. He leaned over her.

“The second rule is you have to tell the truth,” he explained. His head tilted so that their noses would be no obstacle, but he refused to bring himself any closer.

“You say you want to get to the point... I can respect that. What is the point of this, then? Do you really think Rhysol’s men cannot hear us in the shadow of an alley? They haven't struck us down yet, I suppose...” A beat. Victor did not fidget or budge, except for the twitch of his chin as a thought occurred to him. “Why won’t you make any rules? Tell me the third.”

by **Aello** on September 16th, 2011, 2:34 am

Aello's eyes followed Victor's arm as they moved to trap her against the wall. "Afraid I may go somewhere?" she asked, with a small smile, her eyes sparkling. "Or are you just being sure that you have my attention?" she asked, as she cast her gaze back, towards his eyes, searching for something there that would betray his intentions. A glint in the corner of his iris, his veins seeming to pulse beneath a sheet of white, or even, a droplet of clear water seeping out around the edges of his eyes. But there seemed to be nothing to tell her what he was thinking. Just a clear, steady gaze.

Thinking on how best to proceed, Aello remained silent for several moments, before whispering, "that's simple enough. If that's what you truly want." She watched as he tilted his head to the side, as though questioning her words, or perhaps, he was simply waiting to ask her something more. "The point? Why to keep us alive a little longer," Aello whispered. "Surely you don't think it your time for Dira to claim you just yet, do you?" she asked, as she inched her lips a little closer to Lark's, letting them dangle no more than an inch away from his. "And unless the walls have ears of their own, there is no way for them to hear us here. Don't you think? Unless, of course, you really do work for them."

There was a slight pause, "perhaps it is time you obey your own rule," Aello whispered, her voice soft and wispy. "Time to tell the truth, is your heart loyal to Rhysol Victor? Or does it belong to another one of the gods? Perhaps the one we read about earlier, Ionu, of illusions." There was a slight pause, "and know, that once you have answered, you will get to hear the third rule." Here, Aello would pause again as she awaited Lark's reply. If, for whatever reason, Lark stated that he was loyal to Rhysol, Aello would whisper that the third rule was that those who followed the god of chaos, must be killed. Should he say his loyalties lied elsewhere, she would whisper, "the third rule is that you aren't allowed to dangle your lips this close to mine, unless you intend on kissing them."

As Aello spoke those words, her eyes would either prickle with hatred, or sparkle with a sense of caring. Either way, she'd be sure to teach Lark a lesson or two, no matter which of the two rules he heard.

OOCWait for it... wait for it...

by **Victor Lark** on September 16th, 2011, 12:36 pm

“Ionu? Maybe.” Victor replied with more frivolity on his breath than he felt in his heart. It was true that a seed of sincerity had been planted by the idea of this new, mysterious deity, but he would be loathe to tell. Still, his mumbled answer had been uncomfortably louder than Aello’s whisper, as if daring an eavesdropper to step out of the shadows. He did not look away. His smile was wide as his eyes danced to see hers, but no other part of him moved. Without happiness or sadness or anger, his expression was always an affected one. At that moment, it was one of idle jest, and of hunger, and of daring. He leaned close to Aello’s ear, forcing her to see nothing but the opposite wall of the alley, and breathed at her ear,

“Rhysol is not my god.”

When he withdrew again, he thought he saw something new emerge in the bend of her lips and the shape of her countenance. It was all he could do not to frown with concentration, to focus on discovering what those eyes really said to him. His own expression held onto its honeyed beleaguerment as she answered his inner question, and an airy laugh escaped him. Victor finally lifted one hand to tickle a fingertip over the side of her jaw until his knuckle and thumb stopped against the soft curve of her chin, keeping it gently tipped towards him. He dangled his lips close, just to tease her, and said, “Is that what you want?”

by **Aello** on September 16th, 2011, 11:52 pm

Aello's eyes danced across Victor's face as his knuckle rubbed delicately against her chin, sending tiny chills up the length of her neck. As he lifted it, ever so slightly, Aello cast her gaze down, not wanting to meet his eyes, thinking it slightly more seductive than if she were to do so. Aello's eyes seemed to glimmer playfully as her lips stretched into a mischievous grin, which was soon snuffed out. So that instead, her lips parted ever so slightly, revealing her top two, front teeth, making it seem as though she were pouting a little. You suck at this, Aello's mind whispered as she slowly lowered her teeth into her bottom lip, nibbling on it nervously as she shifted her feet.

Finally, Aello cast her gaze back into Lark's eyes, as she removed her teeth from her bottom lip. Slowly, she raised her right hand towards his lips. Her palm was turned towards his flesh, so that when they were close enough, she could press them lightly into the thin, curved line of his bottom lip. "No," she whispered, "but I'll let you in on a little secret. Up until just now, it seemed as though you wanted me to."

The mischievous grin returned to Aello's lips as she continued speaking. "It seems as though you have forgotten two things Lark," she taunted, as she leaned into her right leg, letting her knee brush against his flesh as she continued, "the first of which, is what we were talking about before this. The second, is how easy it can be to create an illusion, if the person you are talking to wants to believe it." There was a slight pause, "even if it's only a little." Aello allowed her hand to fall back to her side as she continued speaking. "Although, if you create an illusion, which anyone could see, perhaps it is no longer an illusion. Perhaps it's acting, more or less. Although, sometimes, acting can create the illusion that something or someone isn't what they appear to be." There was a slight pause, "surely we don't need to consider the things Ionu can do, or even teach us, to know that."

With that, Aello lifted her left arm, pushing the frame of her father's old bow upwards, before she moved it to the side, against Lark's arm. Effectively, moving it away from the wall. "Don't forget that Lark," Aello whispered, as she leaned forward to delicately press her lips into his left cheek, before she made her way through the space she had just made. When she had made it halfway down the alley, in the opposite direction of where they had heard the voices, she turned to glance over her shoulder at him, holding the sight of him in her eyes for a mere moment, before she turned back around, and continued on her way. Weaving in and out of city streets and the shadows, until she and he, were far apart.

OOCHope you don't mind this. Feel free to wrap up if you'd like.

by **Victor Lark** on September 17th, 2011, 6:12 am

Another laugh split against her conjecture. The same noise that tried to seem unassuming in turn revealed his wounded pride. Before he could respond in the affirmative, she began another of her long explanations. Victor only heard half of it. He instead occupied himself with the contours of her countenance. He was tired of talking. He removed his hand from her as she urged it, then fell forward to surround her against the wall again. But just as soon as he did, she broke through every one of his meager offenses. Never one to deny a person their instincts or desires, he melted from her easily. Still, he allowed himself the comfort of twisted confusion on the edge of his eyes.

Then she left. In a matter of blinks, he forgot the rhythm of her hair as it buffeted behind her retreating head; as he ran a defeated hand over his scalp, he could not recall the smell of her breath through whispered lectures; and with the collision of his back against the wall and the subsequent sigh, the heat of his lust faded into familiar emptiness.

He had failed to trick her, and tricked himself in the process. Ionu would be embarrassed, he thought—but this attempt was only his first. Perhaps there were many more to come, more success to be had, more gods to be impressed. Perhaps there were lands beyond the lake, cities outside of Rhysol’s rule, that would prove more hospitable. Victor lifted the star end of the vildani to his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.

His stomach growled.