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]

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.

The image was familiar to her, taken from a review of an 70's art exhibition in London in depicted the portrait of a man. His strong profile was shadowed by the darkness of his eyes, that glared, demandedly at the viewer, his mouth set with a sternness so unlike the many smiling portraits of today.

“The clipping’s my mother’s.. She apparently knew him when I was a child but never spoke of him." Sophie shrugged "I found it amongst her things when I was searching for some childhood pictures to bring with me to NY.”

Deciding to test her earlier assumption she asked “So can you tell me anything from this?”

[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.

“Your description is pretty accurate. I remember little from that night, he didn’t look much older than myself but I sensed.” Sophie shook her head “No, I know he is much older. I suppose he is the tall dark handsome type, which is always appealing. Quiet spoken but authoritive. Confident and precise in both movement and speech, which does give the impression of a certain power and refinement.”

She smiled deciding to delay revealing her memories of the night, instead she chose to make a confession. “I have met him more than once.” Her eyes glanced to Kilraven, “I met him first after a photo-shoot. It was a graveyard setting, a very gothic shoot, all velvet and lace with just a little fake blood for effect.” She smiled with the memory. “The witching hour had just passed as we finished. He came over to introduce himself to some of the models. He struck me immediately, a low bow and a kiss of the hand does a lot to woe a lady. We found ourselves alone and he explained to me that he wanted some photographs to advertise his club. He was very charming and I was obviously flattered by the attention.”

[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 soothing her throat as the everyday action calmed her nerves. Gaining her composure she smiled uneasily at Kilraven, “I don’t suppose you keep a bottle of vodka around here?”

[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.

[sophie_durga]

“Lilu, is such a murderous term, a one-sided pleasure bias. I am aware of what he is, I fear that eventually that nature will overcome him, but at the moment he is gentle. It is this more than anything that disturbs me. A cold hearted killer I could understand much better, yet still I am afraid.”

She took another sip of the juice as the burning sensation faded away. Relaxing in the chair she marvelled at the tiny prisms of light forming spotlights of warm over her body which was cooled periodically by a slight breeze flowing from the open window.

“I am scared of what I am becoming. The things I will do to promote myself, to earn my living. “ She paused looking enquiringly at Kilraven. “But you have still not explained why you would take the time to listen or who you really are.”

[kilraven]

"You did not ask."

Kilraven leaned back in his chair again, the changing light now striking his right side. Without preamble, he launched upon a strange story.

"I was made upon the fifth day, along with the creatures of the sea and air. Like all of my kind and as your kind would later have, I was given free will and thus the first choice before me was remaining in the demiurge's fold, or departing to walk the new world being crafted. Those who chose to remain, became the celestial host. Those, like myself, who chose to turn away and be a part of this world, became something else.

"I use the named cthonian. You would better know us as demons.

"Though I am her elder, Lilith, mother of the lilu, is of my brethren.

"So, perhaps you see now that I use the term lilu, not in judgment, but because it is among the oldest names for Lilith's children that is still remembered in your tongues, dating back to the time of Babylon. I do not judge her progeny. They are, what they are, just as you, daughter of Eve, are what you are."

The demon steepled his fingers.

"And I am what I am. One of those things, is to be counsel to the sons and daughters of Adam, especially those who are drawn into the twilight. That would include you."

Kilraven smiled over his fingertips. It's a milder expression that isn't so pointed and challenging as his previous manner.

"Are you more at ease knowing these things?"

[sophie_durga]

“A demon?” Sophie whispered, “So you are almost as old as the earth itself. “ The scientific pert of her mind fought against his words, the unspoken contradiction to Darwin’s theory, but in her heart she believed his words were true.

Nodding slowly, thoughtfully, she confirmed she was happy with his description. “I have one question, for the moment, which must be cleared before I can continue. Do I understand correctly that you are free to wander the earth, not summoned by Invocation or sacrifice?”

OCC: Sorry for delay, bit of a hectic few days.

[kilraven]

Kilraven gave a little sitting bow. Having remained detached for the most part to date, he allowed his manner to get a little more personal along with the topic. While not ideal for his purposes, there were times when taking a conversational tone with personal questions was the proper way of things. Most mortals understandably had difficulty treating him as an Bergman-esk abstraction and insisted on seeing him as one of them.

Ironic, considering how much strife was caused by human beings de-humanizing each other.

"Five days younger. Though mind you, a day not what you think.

"The demiurge itself gave all of my kind the choice to remain its fold, or go forth to walk this world. What invocation by mortal agency could grant more freedom than the decree of my maker?

"Although, one could argue you conjured me via telephony, yes?"

The demon smiled at this own joke.

[sophie_durga]

Sophie found Kilraven’s smile immediately infectious and could not help but meet it with one of her own. He intrigued her and even with the knowledge that he was a demon and outside of her understanding she realised she now felt strangely at ease in his presence.

Her swinging moods bothered her, the way she could go from elation to fear at the thought of him. Never the most balanced individual these sudden mood shifts were still extreme. No doubt working throughout the night was having an effect on her yet she still struggled to maintain a smiling professional manner in all her engagements.

“Are you happy for me to continue?” she asked Kilraven, “No doubt your eternity of experience has shown you many mortals with plights not dissimilar to my own. There is little more for me to tell you of the facts of our initial meetings.”

[kilraven]

Kilraven made an open-handed gesture.

"By all means. Even if a story is old, every telling is new. The times, and the teller, add their own flavoring and in the end, that is the more important thing.

"Pray tell which of the dilemmas are yours."

[sophie_durga]

“He called me soon after the first time.” Sophie shrugged “I gave him my card, never thinking I’d hear from him again. The offer seemed to good to be true. He had an unusual request for me to meet him in one of the run-down districts out of Leeds. Normally I wouldn’t do such a thing but he was very persuasive, ensured me that it would be fantastic publicity as the club advertised at all the major fetish exhibitions.”

“As we chatted on the phone, he seemed to know my weaknesses. We discussed the lure of the camera and my wish to preserve my image so I am immortalised as that second of perfection, beauty turned art by one click and binding flash of light. More disturbingly he knew of my love of pink roses.” She smiled shyly, “I have not told many this, my mother used to often bring home large bouquets of them, it was her one luxury. She would always take the largest, prettiest rose and place it in a vase by my bedside so my dreams would be infused by its sweet perfume.”

Her smile fading with the memory Sophie continued; “I agreed to meet him to discuss his wishes for the advertisement in more detail. I took a taxi and I…. oh, it’s probably easier if you read the words that summarised my thoughts close to the time.”

She reached into her bag again drawing out a small leather bound book which she flicked open to the bookmarked page. “I wrote down what I could remember of that meeting as it was such a strange encounter in my jotting book. I was going to use it as a sample piece in one of the fetish magazines, sometimes the editors like a bit of dark script to accompany the obsessive images”.

OCC the writing’s content is the sample from my audition, as I’m too lazy today; (it’s in Sophie’s first post.)

[kilraven]

The multi-mirrored afternoon light cast a plethora of shadows on the open page when the man rested fingers on it. Kilraven's gaze at the book was focused, if brief on each page. Demons it seemed, are fast readers. He nodded once when done and flipped the book shut.

"It is, rather more common to favor the reds. Your pink roses are a sigil of your individual flavor. Your shadow has, taken at least that amount of effort to glean your secrets which, I'm afraid, is not so much effort for lilu who have cultivated the skill."

Walking his fingers in a parody of the yellow pages logo, Kilraven spun the journal around so it once more faced its owner.

"Your dilemma, granting the changes of modern times, is an old one. Do not believe however, the old melodramatic language on either side. You are not faced with a gift, nor a curse. These words are poetic, but misleading. There are gifts or curses in this matter, only choices. The difference is the stakes are much dearer and all sales, as your kind say, are final."

Kilraven leveled his gaze at Sophie.

"Before I speak further of those things though, I shall ask you: what is it you wish to come to pass?"

[sophie_durga]

“I wish to know him better, to know what he wants from me, why am I so important to him? He has taken some trouble to single me out. I’m sure he explained some things on the night I can’t remember, but I remember little else from the night. It’s hazy from when we entered the door.

“I remember walking in and noticing a strange smell, sweet yet slightly putrid. We sat in a room, lit only by a few candles while he outlined the plans for the contract. I drank some wine as we talked but it all fades into mistiness. “Sophie stopped a puzzled expression on her face as she searched her memory for anything else.

“I don’t want to become like him, my career would go up in smoke. That’s the mot important thing for me now, to get a few big deals before my time is over. Its not just about the cash, there are many ways I can earn a few bob. But I want my name and face to be remembered on the scene, to be immortalised on film.”

[kilraven]

Kilraven let out a breath between pursed lips.

"Dear lady, do you realize what you are saying?

"You know your shadow is lilu. He knows some secrets of yours you tell only a handful, but you know next to nothing of him. Your memory quickly fades into fog where encounters with him are concerned, but you convince yourself those grey areas must contain explanations that you simply do not recall. In any reasonable human terms, that's a most inequitable relationship, yet you appear ready to go forward believing that you can fathom the mystery of your shadow and then return in a manner of your choosing."

The demon's smile was wry.

"The fact you are here with me telling me what you have is a matter of luck, as few in your circumstances would have contact with me, and even fewer would actually come to me. Without a demon's ear, whom would you tell this story to?

"You are being consumed, young Sophie. Piece by piece, you are being seduced into willingly, eagerly even, surrendering unconditionally. You may, of course, decide this is the path you wish to follow, but do not delude yourself into believing you can follow his lead and retain control over the outcome. Whether you are toyed with and discarded, turned, or sent to the river of souls, will ultimately be in his hands.

"Is this what you wish? If not, then you must weigh what is more important to you and begin to make choices while you still can. To try to grow close to your shadow while preserving your right to walk in the light is a.. troublesome combination of goals at best."