The Two O'clock At Half Past

[kilraven]

The one hundred years of the life of Greenwich Village wasn't long in the life of the earth, but for a nation not yet three centuries old, such a legacy was significant. While it had been years since any starving artist could afford to live in the trendy district, the rebellious bohemian spirit, buoyed along by the aura of the university, had lived

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[sophie_durga]

As the burning subsided Sophie breathed slowly, cursing her hammering heart. She carefully opened her eyes naturally obeying his command. Swallowing hard she turned to view the mirror behind her. A small gasp caught in her throat as her eyes were drawn to three small red spirals imprinted onto her neck. Instinctivly her hand reached for her throat and she ran her finger lightly over the marks. As her hand covered them her mind registered Kilraven's posture and she turned to face him her eyes focusing on the three fingers he held up before her.

"How," she shook her head turning her to gaze disbelievngly into another mirror, the marks were still there although she noticed they had very slightly begun to fade.

[kilraven]

Kilraven counted off on his fingers three words.

"Heaven. Earth. Humanity."

He smiled, then laced his fingers together, casting a spidery shadow on the desk.

"You, still a daughter of Eve, belong to the last of that great triad. I, a cthonian, do not. At this time, it is not important you try to understand everything regarding what I am. Let it suffice that I am and by the fact that you were born into this world, you are and thus have already paid the price required to sit here with me and discuss what it is you will wish to discuss. As a participant in the Dance of Shiva, you are entitled to private consultation once you reach a certain inner threshold which you reached when you were willing to talk, and listen, based upon a newspaper ad which you would now no longer be able to find in the same paper you read it from."

Kilraven sat back in his chair and continued smoothly without a missing a beat.

"I understand, it is a great deal to swallow. Take your time. Formulate questions if you need to. Would you like that tea after all?"

[sophie_durga]

As he spoke, Sophie's head filled with questions, but what are you, why me, what trick was that, but she dismissed them focusing simply on the one word, cthonian. The word vibrated through her head as she searched her memory for a definition, "of the earth?," "the giant slug?", neither explaination she could recall satisfied her. She watched him intensily her hand gently massaging her throat. Not human, her mind concluded but this came as no shock to her, after the last few days she was ready to believe almost any manner of being existed.

"A juice would be good, if you have any." Her hand fell from her throat and she composed herself, resting her hands lightly in her lap. "So you will listen and advise? No doubt you have your own reasons for this. I am willing to accept, for now, that you believe you can help me reach the understanding I need. Is my understanding correct?"

[kilraven]

Kilraven smiled a little.

The shifting landscape that was human psychology always held surprises. The most apparently kind and open-minded could be suicidally dogmatic when the most important issues were at stake, while a denizen of a subculture traditionally viewed as shadey could be surprisingly ready to give trust upon the most intimate matters.

Then again, the ability to give trust is a paramount issue for a model, especially one of this specialty. mused the demon

[sophie_durga]

Sophie poured a small measure of the juice into the glass, rotating it slowly to mix with the ice before taking a sip, briefly savouring the wonderfully tangy, tart, tangerine taste.

“No doubt you will keep the usual sketch of the discussion. I will not waste your precious time with the personal details. I can provide them to your secretary when I depart. Although I’m quite intrigued as to why on earth she would feel threatened by me.” Sophie raised her eyebrows mockingly glancing towards the closed door.

[kilraven]

Kilraven gestured first at the other, then at the door.

"You are women. Women, much like men, have a base drive to seek supremacy among their own. Whatever virtues and assets you believe are yours are compared against those of the others you meet. It is easy to reach the limits of confidence and then imagine that your own deficiencies are the strengths of your rivals."

The man indicated his guest with a sweeping vertical gesture.

"Take your attire for instance. It is considered daring and quite alluring. I think, you would agree that Madelyn could clad herself in the same style if she so chose and have it be quite flattering. However, I can tell you that only in the deepest recesses of her mind would she dare imagine such a thing. Ergo, by entering this office in that outfit, you are in her eyes highlighting her weakness."

[sophie_durga]

“I’m not sure the Ice Queen has got what it takes to pull it off” Sophie laughed, “It takes self-belief, attitude and looks to wear an outfit like this and look good. Although who knows what she does behind closed doors. The most ‘normal’ and conservative people often have the weirdest fetishes.”

[kilraven]

"Precisely. You point out the qualities that are dubious in her, which is well aware of, but not willing to openly admit.

"But we digress. Madelyn's troubles are her own, and not why you are here, yes? You have not, I think, decided to fly towards the sunrise."

[sophie_durga]

Sophie took another sip of the juice, gathering her thoughts as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes studying the faded red residue of the three spirals upon her neck. Focusing he attention back onto Kilraven she began to speak, adopting a more serious tone than her usual manner. “You know already that my problems stem from a man, or rather the effect that his memory has upon me. I seek an ending to the troubled dreams. A solution that enables me to preserve who I am. I have decided to stay in New York for the foreseeable future, the city is rather growing on me and I have just found a rather elite job which will no doubt aid my future career in many ways

[kilraven]

Kilraven nodded once. Behind him, a cooing pigeon alighted on the sill of the open window.

"In general terms, what you look for is what most look for. However, obfuscation is the gremlin of the Dance of Shiva. Your shadow, and those like him, bring even more in their wake, making clarity even more elusive than normal while complicating the choices with their involvement. It is hard to make a good choice, when one does not know what in fact, the choices are.

"Pardon me a moment."

The man rose to his feet and moved to the window. Picking up the apparently docile bird, he plucked off a small capsule attached to its leg. Pocketing the capsule, Kilraven released the bird into the air and returned to his chair.

A homing pigeon? Whatever the case, the man made no explanation and returned nonchalantly to the business at hand.

"Show me what token you have, Miss Durga, and we shall try to clarify what, in truth, are the options before you."

[sophie_durga]

Sophie smiled as she watched Kilraven retrieve the pigeon liking the quaintness of the act. She closed her eyes, trying to relax.. Though the burning at her throat had subsided the images reminded her of what she had just witnessed. Her mind reeled away from the glaring significance of the marks, don’t think about it Soph, it’s real, you know that, but no-one will believe you.Opening her eyes again as Kilraven spoke she nodded and reached across to her jacket. “I have one picture, it’s quite old but you are welcome to take a photocopy if needed.” Pulling out a red snakeskin wallet she flicked through it and withdrew a carefully laminated newspaper clipping which she placed before him on the desk

[kilraven]

There was a subtle change in Kilraven's countenance as he picked up the clipping and examined the worn photo. As the man regarded the paper, his expression appeared to drain of organic animacy and settle in an instant of chiseled, pensive dignity like that which a sculptor would choose to immortalize in stone or bronze.

The Thinker pondering at the Gates of Hell.

A blink broke the spell and, infused with life again, Kilraven tossed the clipping back onto the glass desk.

"Little new, but much corroboration. Lilu. Conservative. Arrogant. Extensively selective memory. Considers himself a being of power and refinement. Rather expected for his breed and apparent vintage."

Kilraven leveled his gaze at Sophie.

"But you don't need to me tell you any of that. His spoor about you is quite fresh, and the distortion of your objectivity aside, I think you are not blind to the character of such men."

[sophie_durga]

Sophie frowned slightly, a thin line marring her brow. Does he know I’ve seen him again; she dismissed the thought her features resuming a balanced almost smiling pose. “I’m familiar with the character of many men.” She answered uneasily

[kilraven]

Kilraven let Sophie talk. His expression was attentive, if somewhat detached as his ears took in the familiar tale.

The details vary, but the story remains the same. A hundred years ago or more, it would have been sketches or the canvas instead of photographs; art for art's sake rather than advertising. Morbid obessession is now fashionable in its way, so it is in the open, but the nature of the lures remains the same as more prudish times. The modern fetish model is bribed by the same promises as the bygone austere Victorian.

Strange creatures you are, Daughters of Eve - you demanded emancipation, yet remain most seduced by slavery.

"You do not appear displeased or conflicted about what you describe."

Best to always to start simple with a pointed observation. Too much at once galvanized instinctive resistance in the mind of the listener.

[sophie_durga]

“It was a standard evening” Sophie shrugged, “Getting an offer of further work after a shoot is not unusual. Often clients like to see how well you perform before selecting for the more elite jobs. Charm and flattery is more commonly exchanged than the cold hard cash.” But you don’t normally fall for it Soph, why else did you agree to meet him alone in the following days?

“There was little to be uneasy about in the encounter, I found him quite pleasant and articulate.” She said coldly.

Except for his eyes, the way they burned into you, intense, yearning, lingering over your body as though he wanted to possess you, devour you. The way his smile reminded you of the cat that got the cream, disarming and drawing you near. Sophie’s eyes flicked to the mirror with minor alarm, as her senses perceived a slight burning as though a warm cloth had been placed around her neck. The spirals gaining a faint wash of crimson, against her pale throat. Grabbing the glass in front of her she took a large gulp of the juice, the iced liquid

[kilraven]

So the resistance shows itself along with its old friend, evasion.

Kilraven smiled and spread his hands apologetically. Backlight by solar glare, it was a strangely angelic gesture.

"I'm afraid not as it would be rather counter to my purposes. Spirits may loosen inhabitions and calm nerves for the short term, but they are also ultimately destructive to clarity.

"Speaking of which, there is truly no point in deception here. I am not your judge, only your counselor. While you need not reveal everything, direct concealment serves only to cloud your mind, not mine."

The man leaned forward, his face then underlight by the reflection of sunlight off of the glass desk.

"You can see yourself that the sign of the Labyrinth betrays you. Do you really suppose, you are the first woman to find the tables turned upon her by a lilu?"

Kilraven arched his brow.