*Author's Note: This is a scene between Arzu and Smiley though it is only posted under Arzu's account*
The blackened, limping figure of a wounded werewolf slowly makes its way across the back garden to the forest. She had once harbored a murderous rampage, a sick desire to destroy and punish, punish others for her own wrongdoing. Her brother though, he had altered this heated rage, a rage implanted by a lack of control. He had let her go and that had soothed her to an extent. Her heart still felt blackened, damaged, in a way her brother’s pain had made her feel a sick sense of satisfaction, perhaps it was because of this control she had over him, but that had all turned into a numbness now. She didn’t want to feel guilt so she numbed it over in her heart. If she lets the guilt consume her then she knows she won't be able to carry on. When she was about a half mile into the thick forest she noticed the natural hum of nature life had ceased, replaced by an eerie nothingness. Her ears press against the blood-soaked fur of her head and her lips stretch up to expose her teeth as she growls. Arzu didn’t trust the silence… It felt as if she were in the presence of death himself.
Up in the trees a falcon stalks, silent in his ways, lavender eyes focused solely on the beast prowling below. When it stops the falcon doesn’t budge, he keeps looking down at the creature, knowing it won’t be long before he exposes himself. With a swift flutter of his wings he lands on the ground below and stands before the wolf, a pretty good distance away, unphased by her bared teeth. In a quick motion the falcon’s form is enveloped by shadows and his figure forms into that of a man, pale skinned, messy brown hair. He locks eyes with the monster, knowing it’s too weak to harm him if it tried.
Arzu sways slightly as she stands; looking up at the man though her head stays bowed. She has seen him before, stalking around the grounds at night, his ways most likely impure. It’s obvious he is a vampire. When he stays in his position, unmoving, she silences her growls. It is obvious he wants something, but she isn’t sure what. She doesn’t want to speak to him; he will have to speak first.
The vampire complies with this demand by offering the beast a grin, pearly white fangs glimmering in the moonlight. “I have a proposition,” he states calmly, unblinking, his smile unfaltering.
She tilts her head just slightly in curiosity, wondering what on earth this strange creature would want of her. Her tired brow furrows close to her silver eyes, but she doesn’t move other than the soft sways that occur involuntarily. Her dark blood glistens in the moonlight.
“I’m dying,” he admits, the words casual as if he’s speaking of the weather, “I need someone with magical experience to help me. A witch cursed me. The name of the curse is D'yavol Krovi, I’m sure you are familiar.” He speaks quickly, but clearly to get right to the point. To him this is a business transaction. “You will be compensated for assisting me.”
Slowly she eases her worn body down to sit, her ears flipped upright to listen to him. His talk of assistance interests her. She has heard of the curse, it isn’t a pretty one and it requires much time and dedication. In a way this situation makes her feel needed again… It gives her a strong purpose, to save the life of this strange man. Would she accept that would give her something to preoccupy her time, it would give her something to pull herself away from Tahir again so he could focus on his woman. She closes her eyes a moment to expel thoughts of her brother. What kind of compensation? She questions, her voice filling his mind though her mouth doesn’t move.
His eyes flicker subtly in the darkness and the corners of his mouth turn up a little more so his smile can broaden across his face. “Whatever your heart desires most,” he replies. He can tell just from the sound of her tone that she will do this, that she will assist him.
This curse isn’t a simple one… Can you get me what I need to cure you? She asks, she knows that to find the name of the curse itself would cost a decade of searching, but he has found this. She is impressed at his ability to come to her so prepared… There is something about him that is collected, composed, though he looks rugged on his exterior. He interests her.
“Everything you will need I have,” he states, crossing his arms over his chest loosely. He never takes his focus off her eyes, “All you will need to do is stay by my side… Now tell me, what do you want in return?”
She lifts her once bowed head up to look into his eyes completely, her own almost completely hallow. She knows exactly what she wants from him, she knows this man, with his life on the line will provide her with the thing she has wanted the most since she saw her family slaughtered before her very eyes. Her eyes close and slowly she turns back into her human form, blood dripping over her shoulders and down her back, the moon reflecting off the surface of her body, exposing her completely, but this doesn’t bother her in the least bit. Her eyes stay focused on his. “I want to live again.”
Smiley doesn’t look over her flesh; his eyes stay on her’s. He is not curious to see her exposed body because he knows she doesn’t feel connected to it any longer, there is nothing to hide because to her there is nothing there. “It’s a deal,” he states, grinning in the darkness, his hands reaching up to unbutton his shirt. Once he sheds it off his person he extends his arm to give her the clothing.
She takes the shirt from him and wraps it around her body, covering her nakedness. The back of it is instantly stained in her blood. “My brother hurt me,” she says after a few moments of silence to explain the wound. She wants to tell him this so in a way they can be more closely bonded since their lives are entwined now. Since they are saving each other.
His grin widens across his face, he reads this as her point of weakness, a tie that may keep her from complying with their pact. This brother may want to hold her back from moving forward, from healing Smiley of his curse. “That won’t be a problem any longer,” He says calmly, walking back toward the mansion, expecting her to follow.
And follow him she does, back to the coven to heal her wounds. Her brother wouldn’t be a problem… She wouldn’t be his problem. Her existence belonged with this strange man now, this dying man. She needs him as much as he needs her, and he will let her go when they are threw. This is the most freedom she has felt in decades.
Calendar