Cryptic Ink Redux
There was always something about Jabari that made Adair amused. It wasn't the sharp, blinding humor that came to those who were truly happy, but a slow, hazy slither of smoke, coiling and stealthy. It was mere musing on her part, speculation on his thoughts, sardonic, dry, pessimistic. Although as of late, he'd mastered the ability to block her out against some thoughts, although not completely. And it wasn't the impeding wall of absolutely nothing, nonbeing like Severon's. He was more distracting himself with other thoughts, and rare as it was that he thought about the small twinkler around her, or at all. But his feat was no less considerable, especially with his short time knowing her, how her ability worked. But grief made people accomplish things of great magnitude, after all. The elf herself was an example, with her exemplary drawings. Adair wondered what Jabari would have done had he known she'd painted a picture of him once, just once. It was magnificent, even the emotionless demon had to admit. Bright rich hues coalescing, a myriad of colors creating what could have either been a sunset or a sunrise. She wondered what they could have meant symbolically, the ending of the Jabari in the picture - he had a strange expression on his face Adair had never seen before, and couldn't quite put her clawed finger on - or perhaps the beginning?
Snapped free from her musings, Adair turned at Jabari's voice. He was no happier to see her than he would if he were to see a severed foot. All the well, Adair never went out of her way to kowtow to him anyway. She imagined also, that he wasn't too excited at the prospect of having her as a leader, especially when he was officially inducted as a Minor. But since his inauguration, he'd changed, drastically. Adair supposed it began when Erisse snapped, and only tumbled downhill when Adair was forced to contain the twinkler in the psychiatric ward. It was necessary, but a small, infinitesimal niggle of reluctance stopped her in her tracks, and she was determined to find out why it was there. She belatedly realized that though she didn't care for the Elf, Adair certainly related with her. Emphasized with her, because they were the same, their connection was distant, so small and weak, but it was there. Both betrayed by the same person, for the same reasons. But Adair did not break like the Elf. But the thought occured to her, struck like lightning - she paused where she stood, heart clenching and beating faster than it had for a long time - perhaps she in this cold, robotic, mechanical form was broken. Swallowing hard, emotions she had no name for crested and fell. A dull beat of silence and Adair collected her thoughts, sinuously restarting and ignored Jabari if he noticed.
"We are assigning you another partner. Wasn't this exactly what you wanted? An amicable atmosphere, a place where people would not sneer at you for your heritage, or do you now find yourself so much their superior, that you, a Minor, can look down your nose at them?" there was zero emotion in her entire reproach, and they even made a cold picture to any spectators from far away. The both were striding briskly, movements sharp and graceful. A wide gap was between the two as well. "This one will be good for you. You won't see them until later, she's been assigned to a mission and will be late." Adair flicked a look to him that offered compromise. "The last hundred or so, Daray had picked. Some of them as a joke even. This one has my seal of approval. This may not be consolation to you, as you know well of my thoughts about you, but the fact that I consider the importance of the organization first should put you at ease." A small huff of annoyance signaled her irritation at the truce.
-
Sophie flicked the man before her a cool look of amusement, her long fingers fiddling idly with her elbow high, pristine white gloves. She hoped that the Angel writhing before her would confess to his treachery soon, she hated getting blood on her clothes, and as it was, she should be. Clad in a ridiculously elegant, flowing crimson dress, she looked more fit for entertaining than standing in front of a bleeding man in the Torture and Interrogation chambers. Despite her appearance, the surly men around her gave her a wide, and respectful berth. They cast her nervous, and strangely resigned looks as she leaned in, her sumptuous lips stretched in a smirk, as pale blond locks - so pale they were white - slipped over her shoulders like streams of moonlight and were painted crimson by the blood pooling at his gut. Calculating gold eyes raked his figure, evaluating his worth. "Are you absolutely positive you've told us all there is to know?" a soft, lilting voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing.
"Y-y-yes. P-please, I've said a-all I k-know." Sophie made a small jerking motion and slipped her dainty hand into a fist, and suddenly the man stopped to gasp and cough. The hacking sounds stirred the atmosphere around them, and soon the coppery scent of blood filled the air. "Please, s-spare me," he rasped, his voice now high pitched, face becoming increasingly red and changing colors. The vessels in his eyes began to pop and blood spilled forth from his mouth and nose. But his pleas were ignored and Sophie was already retreating, hips swaying. "Clean him up," came her brisk command, and she left the room, but not before making a swiping motion with her dainty arm. In her wake was the splatter of blood, collective murmurs of "Yes Captain." and coils of thread the officers were afraid to touch.
-
Adair sat down in her armchair, glad to be back in its relative comfort. The purple velvet was familiar to her, and clawed hands played with the golden tassels. Looking up from her desk, she quickly ran over Jabari's blank expression, although that was more defiance than anything. There was nothing interesting going on in his mind either, other than the inane questions of who his partner might be. Perhaps his next thought would be to scheme about how to get rid of her. A sardonic smirk lifted the corners of Adair's lips. Sophie wouldn't be so easy to detach, and if she were, Adair doubted that Jabari would find a problem with her in any case. In the past, Daray had chosen Jabari's partners with the little Elf in mind, partners with bright smiles, transparent lies, and stumbling grace. Perhaps it was why the boy had refuted every single one, in varying degrees of viciousness. However Adair chose Jabari's partner with him in mind. Although the leader of the Hunters was quite positive that Sophie was far more aggressive than Jabari was, in her own cold seduction.
It was then that Daray walked in, and annoyingly the room seemed to have more charisma, if that were even possible. Daray gave her a glance, relaying his search and failure to find Klavier and Lind, before flicking his attention to one stoic man. A wide smile encompassed his face and he clapped Jabari on the back once. "How's it going, Quade, old boy." his tone far too jaunty to go under Adair's annoyance radar. "We should spar again sometime. I haven't kicked your ass in a while, I'm starting to miss it." a roguish grin gave away his jibe as a tease. Daray seemed genuinely happy to see Jabari, however, his eyes practically aglow. The way he was pacing and circling around the new recruit, he either gave the impression of an eager puppy or a shark that thought it was a goldfish. "Heard the news yet? We found you another partner. I'm pretty sure this one will last though. She's a killer." Adair nearly snorted. This was more true than Jabari would realize until it was far too late.
"Speaking of which," Adair cut in. "She's coming right now. I can hear her." and sure enough, loud, unhurried click clackings were heard resounding in the halls, tearing apart the silence. All heads turned expectantly at the heralding of stilletos. Sophie entered the room, making a strange vision. Elegant, and yet blood thirsty, her white tresses had specks of blood in them, stark and vibrant. Her casual dark smirk made for a blood chilling look, and she gazed at everyone in the room with dark amber eyes. "Adair," Sophie acknowledged, inclining her head in a respectful nod. Adair bowed her head in return, but said nothing, deciding to play passive observer to the outcomes. The white haired woman in question's eyes darted to Daray, whose earlier amicable look was now replaced by leering. "Daray," the woman laughed, and danced away from the hands that twitched from his side and were beginning to wander towards her.
A curious niggle turned her attention to a pale headed man standing in the corner. She knew who he was. "Jabari, I've heard much about you," she murmured, her eyes now bright with intuition, calculating his appearance with what she had heard, but her manners were not forgotten. "But don't worry, it all can't possibly be true, now can it?" and with mixed intentions she offered him her hand, ignoring the soft sounds of amusement behind her.
(Oooh. Jabari. Whatcha gonna do when she comes for you? Oh snap. That's sounds really suggestive. OH WELLS. I REPLIED. OBLIGATION DONE. xD I kid.)