homesick

REXANNA the sun inside of her rages like wildfire She remained close to where there was life, partially from fear of getting lost and falling through another odd portal, and partially because she had no idea what to do. Things were different here, ruins from what seemed like centuries ago as opposed to the ruins of Halyven, new and still charred black by the soot from fires as Aciend lay waste to the city. So she chose to explore, taking time away from meeting people and drinking (seeing as the Tavern was really the only place she had been to consistently) to see what the rest of this odd place had to offer. She had left the tavern, noticing the domed building along the way, choosing quietly to spot the spire and wince at the overall look of it as her quiet feet quickly took her toward the partially ruined building. Upon entry, her sapphire gaze lingered on the brutal scars of age – rock that had come loose from the ceiling and what appeared to be one side of the place. Yet on the other half, books and tomes remained. Certainly, if she was still searching for information on the land, this would be the place. A faint smile was barely seen along her flush lips as she strode toward the books, leaning to take a peek at the titles. Some were in languages she’d never seen before, others in a language she figured she could read provided the pages weren’t glued together or missing. So she picked a book up, scanned the front cover, and blew away some of the dust and rubble that had accumulated along the top of the pages. Her hands carried a bit of debris away before she wiped them on her torn pants and loose top – still unable to find a suitable change of clothes here in her short time, but at least she had managed to bathe and do a fairly decent rudimentary hand combing through her hair. With the book in hand and another quick glance around the area, she found a structural wall that didn’t look like it’d come crumbling down on her and leaned up against it, beginning to open the page in the hopes of finding anything at all about this place. "Talk." and she is — gold, gold, gold.

coding

Archebold was indeed curious about this new world he happened to find himself in. While others perhaps felt foreign, out of place...there was comfort, unexplained comfort he immediately felt. Perhaps it was the lack of tether to a sire, or the fruitful ignorance of locals unaware of what he was capable of...It had been a rather delectable education for him.

Even still, he had yet to formally announce his presence so openly, just strategic placements of his being...such was this present case. Dark, hollow eyes seemed to slither about like tantalized serpent as he found Rexanna during one of his exploration runs...and this did prove a rather interesting subject.

He had yet to reveal himself, muted steps followed into the ruins. Books? Archebold grinned, that was unexpected but a treasured discovery. He waited for Rexanna to lean against the wall as he leaned against his ivory walking stick.

Talk, she muttered, though he doubted she ever expected anyone to actually be around to listen.

He appeared at the remnants of a corridor, despite this world of dust and ruin, his suit remained impeccably cared for. Meticulously pressed and cleaned and seemed to fit his frame like a second skin.

"I normally don't pander to such simple demands...but I've been told there are fewer things as pleasing to me as the sound of my own voice...an overexaggeration." Archebold spoke, his voice retaining an even calm about it. Words weaved like silk, always meant to comfort.

Fingers closed over the lionshead knob of his stick as he leaned forward, tilting his head curiously at her book. "Do you take comfort words? Written or otherwise?"

REXANNA the sun inside of her rages like wildfire She wasn’t used to this place enough or her surroundings to realize that someone had followed her. She also had lacked the common sense to truly look around her before she ended up leaning against the wall and popping open the book, her pale hand played beneath the hard cover as her other hand left options to flip pages. She mostly used the large shirt covering her torso to be a shield from the dust, using it to wipe off debris that remained on the books despite her attempts to clear it off. The shirt covered her well enough, but it as billowy and flowy, and did little to try and hide the “C” branding beside her collarbone. And yet, despite her last few months of running for her life in Halyven, she warmed up to the idea of this place being far from that much quicker than she really should have. She just assumed that things here weren’t as harmful as things were back home – but of course assumptions could be deadly. She thought of all those terrible things immediately when she heard the voice of the man bounce along the room, close yet aimed at her; as if Rexanna hadn’t done enough to make sure that she wasn’t impeding on someone else’s space. But the words were different, similar to a sound she’d heard before – beautiful and yet… Confident. Her eyes widened, and she pulled the book a bit closer, her head lifting quickly toward the sound of the voice – her dark hair curling and bouncing with the movement as she laid her eyes on the man. God, he was close. Silently she cursed herself for the idea of not sensing him before. Regardless, she offered him one of those sweet smiles, to hide the surprise and caution that lined every piece of her. The comfort she sensed from his words felt… Different from her time with Deimos, and as she gazed upon him and noticed the stick he leaned on and the way he leaned toward her book, she didn’t sense the idea that she knew this man at all. Shaking her head slightly toward him, she offered a bit of a half laugh. “Honestly, I’m a bit new here. Just trying to gather what might have happened here.” Her sapphire gaze lingered on the book for a brief moment before slipping up toward his face. “Unless of course, someone with a pleasing voice might be able to fill a new girl in?” Her lips spread in a wide smile that reached her eyes, before she dipped her head slightly in a more formal greeting. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” Her voice was quiet but held the hint of a question toward the end. No need in shouting when the man was standing before you, head angled toward the book clenched near your chest. "Talk." and she is — gold, gold, gold.

coding

Archebold c:

Archebold tilted his head curiously at her compliment, a faint grin forming revealing part of his his fang. "Flattery...a rather pedestrian attempt to get me to agree to...show you the ropes? Primitive...but not without it's charm."

A quick tap of his walking stick and he would offer Rexanna the ivory lions head knob to take. "Archebold Cobb...please, allow me to escort you and perhaps shed light on this dreary place to which we find ourselves in...or at least, what I've managed to gather, for you see...my arrival was rather sudden as well.

Perhaps, together we may piece the fragments that will create the mold of our becoming." He would wait for the charming young lady to take the stick, should she desire to do so. Had she taken the offer he would gently bring her arm forward to which he would hook his own around as if guiding her.

The stick shifting to his free hand as he tapped against the rubble and ruin. He glanced to Rexanna, following the lines of her neck, to the C brand, along her collarbone as the entertained the idea to feed...she appeared warm, soft...he was certain the blood housed in her delicate frame held a savoriness to it few would ever enjoy...but he exorcised restraint and merely grinned.

"What was the last thing you remember, before you arrived here...I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage Miss..." he trailed, hoping his guest would fill in the blank.

REXANNA the sun inside of her rages like wildfire There was a faint grin that spread across his face before he spoke, mentioning flattery that Rexanna could only quietly laugh at, her smile spreading further. “To be fair, you began with talking about your pleasing voice.” She noted, tipping her head toward him briefly. “I only stated what was already said.” She winked at him then, her smile fading slightly as he moved. He introduced himself then, and she found herself straightening a bit at the offer. There was caution within her that told her to leave, but there was also intrigue that guided Rexanna. Both had been useful in her years of evading capture – so with it, she decided to hell with it and found a place to set the book and took Archebold’s arm. At least she had a name to the face – and some small amount of information. He seemed confident enough to her to have lived here forever were it not for his words that said otherwise. She looped her arm with his, allowing him to guide her and speak – not missing the glance toward her brand that he took, though she quickly looked away. It was a warning sign back home. The C made her property of the crown, and to have it and not be in the castle was enough of a crime on it’s own, let alone everything Rexanna had done. Here, however, nobody had noticed it in the way they did in Halyven or Aciend. She was thankful for that, but she wasn’t certain how far it would get her. Her thoughts were interrupted as Archebold spoke again, of the last thing she remembered and she flushed slightly, her cheeks blooming as she realized she hadn’t given a name. Tilting her head back toward him, she let her sapphire eyes look up in the hopes of catching his dark gaze. “I’m Rexanna Reyes, from Halyven. Though I doubt anyone here has heard of it thank the gods.” A slight laugh slipped through her lips before she had to look away again. “I was in a house, and when I stepped over the threshold I was suddenly here.” She offered, glancing back to him. He didn’t need to know why she was in the house – that she was evading capture once again with her life on the line, with the Prince of Aciend mere rooms away, ready to whisk her away and take the retribution he so desperately wanted.  “That’s about all I remember. What about you?” She questioned, hoping to switch the conversation to him and not into the dirty details of her former life. Archebold and she is — gold, gold, gold.

coding

As Archebold continued to tap along the ruin and eventually guided Rexanna out to overlook the rest of what remained and/or was salvaged, his hand, of the arm looped over hers gently took her wrist in a subtle gesture.

It appeared much like a formal gesture, but in truth he felt along her pulse as she spoke. He observed her flushed nature and her avoidance to hold his eyes when he studied her branding. "There is myth out there, it lingers in all forms of societal beliefs...are you are of this?" He asked rhetorically, the ease of his voice always exuding confidence and belief in every word he spoke.

"It is believed that scars mark you a monster. Be it burn, brand, or other...it is a stigma, or so they would have you believe it to be. I believe in something else...I believe scars, no matter the cause, tell a story."

The latter spoken in almost a whisper as he leaned slightly to Rexanna and smiled before he continued to walk with her. "Scars, like any written word, contain beauty in the stories they tell. You need not be ashamed of yours, because it is a part of the story of who you are. To be shamed of your scars, is to be ashamed of who you are."

Archebold winked to the young woman as he observed the remnants of society around them, taking a moment to answer to her question.

"I was a slave. Bound by those who could not understand what I was...many...many years had I bent the knee to those who feared me...forced to serve by my own kin, who held no shame in their position.

The night before I arrived, I set plans in motion for rebellion...I desired freedom. Freedom...at any cost. Perhaps fate thought the price too great and delivered me here...where everything I could ever want is here, right now...and not a life needed to be quelled to achieve it."

His dark eyes had wandered though toward the latter he glanced to the side at Rexanna and grinned. "There are fates much worse than to wake at the warm of a beautiful woman...who's heart holds the beat of invigoration...perhaps caution. All justified...you may find those who have followed me here, and they well say I am a monster...and they will be correct. I am everything they will speak of me as.

The only difference being, is if you cannot accept who you are, you are only going to lie to yourself and others, and something as sacred as trust...will cease to exist."

REXANNA the sun inside of her rages like wildfire It was quiet, not for the small tapping of the stick Archebold carried in his free hand as he guided her to overlook the rest of the land. So nonchalantly, he looped his arm over hers, gently taking her wrist in a move that caused Rexanna to turn her face to him again, the slight squeeze of pressure of his hand around her wrist, her pulse beating perhaps a bit nervously at being this close to a stranger. Worse things had happened, she assured herself, but she was still with a bit of unease as he began to speak of myths and stigmas. Her attempt to keep her gaze away from him, to hide the embarrassment and shame that crept along her cheeks in a blush from the brand upon her chest, hadn’t gone unnoticed it seemed. His voice was almost soothing, the way it spoke of scars and the stories they told, and Rexanna found herself chewing on her bottom lip slightly. Archebold spoke of the scars telling stories, the shaping of who you were, and she nodded along perhaps a bit absentmindedly – flashing back to the time when her betrothed had the guards hold her down and brand her with the “C”. C for Crown, C for the Prince’s name, C for captive, C for corrupt. Her cheeks flushed lightly, and she inhaled deeply, looking back over to him and pasting on a smile with a nod. It would take time, she was sure, before she was fine with the brand. But for now, it served only as a reminder that despite everything, she was still a part of something else. Archebold leaned in slightly and Rexanna continued to hold her head up high, still retaining that smile across her face. “Thank you.” She offered a bit quietly, catching his wink at the end. Thankfully, however, he answered her question. Though the answers weren’t entirely what she had hoped for from this regal man that stood beside her, that lead her through the rubble. He spoke of slaves and bound to others unaware of what he was – of monsters in men, of rebellion, of freedom and she found her gaze slipping toward him once again. At least the man was honest, she’d give him that, yet she nodded. “Perhaps you and I have a bit more in common than initially thought.” She admitted, a small laugh escaping her lips. Rexanna wasn’t a monster, but she had been a slave, had strived for rebellion and freedom, had hoped for a better future than there was. And she had done anything she could to get this far. So she smiled to him, an actually honest one this time. “What kind of monster are you?” She asked, curiosity gleaming in the sapphire pools of her eyes, wondering if he was the type of monster she had ran from. The kind who had been promised a bride of nobility, to be swindled and raze the earth for it, for vengeance. “I think there’s monsters in everyone. What kind of monster makes the difference.” She admitted, glancing away thoughtfully before sliding her attention toward him again. “Some have said I’m one, but I’ve known far worse – I’ve loved far worse.” Her voice was soft, contemplative as she looked toward him. “I can’t say much for what happened to you, but from one previous slave to another, you do what you have to do to survive and damn the consequences.” She added with a thoughtful dip of her head. Archebold and she is — gold, gold, gold.

coding

Archebold turned to Rexanna as she asked a most peculiar question. It was there he chose to halt his steps. "Ask yourself this...and perhaps what you say will be true. Have you ever killed someone? Felt the life of someone drain...felt it against your skin. The warmth...did you find comfort or repulsion? Resolution or regret? You asked me what kind of monster am I..."

He turned to face his new acquaintance fully, her arm released as he reached slowly and traced his finger along the brand.

"...I am the worst kind. The one who reflects the flaws of their creator, who is the pinnacle of their worst aspects of who they are. I am a reflection of humanities ugliest virtues...shrouded in a body built to be perfect.

I relish fear...I find the sensation of a racing heart intoxicating." Finger still gently tracing along Rexanna's brand stopped as he lowered it into his pocket.

"I'm a monster with nothing to hide...I could take you into some barren corner, overpower you and feed off of what I imagine must be nectar so delicate...it would be a sin of great calamity not to savor. You would resist, if you felt inclined, but it would pump your heart faster and drive my thirst further.

I could do that...but I choose not to...do you know why?"

The latter whispered as he leaned ever so closely to the side of her ear, as if the threat to bite her was there any moment until he straightened his posture.

"Good conversation is so hard to come by."

He teased with a smile. Dark eyes glanced around before focusing on her once more.

"Do you dance Anna?"

Archebold would ask, purposely shortening her name for he enjoyed how it sounded by comparison.

REXANNA the sun inside of her rages like wildfire Rexanna continued to walk with him until her question captured his attention and they easily came to a stop so he could answer her. Perhaps she wasn't expecting the answer she began to receive. He asked her if she'd ever killed a man, and mentally she shifted back to her former life, running from any and everything. How she had fought off a potential captor, how she unwittingly caused his demise. But she hadn't been around to see the result, she'd only heard of what happened from those that spoke of it outside the city limits. She couldn't really relate to the feeling he described, but she knew she didn't regret it. Surely, rather than being here, she'd be back in the dungeon — perhaps even killed. But she remained still, her sapphire gaze lingering on Archibold as he lifted a hand to her brand, tracing a finger along the raised skin. Her eyes never left his face as he continued to speak of being built to be perfect but full of the opposite. An eyebrow raised slightly in curiosity, willing herself to remain as he elaborated. He spoke of pulses and feeding, and what kind of things exactly he could do to her and she found her pulse rising slightly despite his hand leaving her brand. At least he was honest, laying out everything before her and allowing her the choice to stay (though she wasn't certain if she chose to run, even with her quick feet she probably wouldn't make it) she decided to offer him a saccharine smile, shaking her head as if to answer no to his question. Then he leaned in, by her ear above her neck. His words creating a series of shivers that raced down her spine — goosebumps raising along her shoulders and arms. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding when he moved back and smiled once more. She wasn't sure what to say, but she nodded lightly all the same. Honesty was something you didn't often get, but she appreciated it nevertheless. She wasn't so worried about surviving this encounter — instead, she craved information and the simple luxuries that a conversation could grant. So of course she'd entertain him, unable to find it in her to look away or leave. Then he asked her if she danced, and surprise crossed her features before she called them again and nodded once more. “It's been a few years since I have. I'll try not to step on any toes.” She added with a wink in his direction, moving slightly to stand before him and raised her arms, aiming to place one along his shoulder and the other outstretched, ready to take his hand should he wish to. Then, with another even more calming smile, she found her eyes glancing over his face. “Out of curiosity, when you… Feed, is there anything left after?” She questioned with a tilt of her head and eyebrow raised. and she is — gold, gold, gold.

coding

archebold Fear is the price of imagination Archebold would slip his fingers around her hand, his touch cold but gentle as the swung and stabbed into the ground rather theatrically as to free his hand to rest over her hip. Dark, hollow eyes fell over her fingers as he initiated the lead. "You never really forget..." Archebold would reach and turn Rexanna gracefully, catching her with little effort with his slender fingers. "Locked away, in every fiber..." He would turn Rexanna to rest her back against him, slipping her arm back around his neck as he slid his hand around her waist and gently strummed her side, his other gently caressing her outstretched arm. His voice soft, lecturing, amused. "Are memories, repressed...longing to be awoken. All it needs is a little inspiration." As his fingers slid along her abdomen, Rexanna would be turned again to face him, he couldn't help but grin at her question. "That depends...consider it much like you would sip wine. The moment it touches your tongue you know whether it is a taste worth savoring, or just another vintage to along a steady line of intoxication. Those who appeal to my pallet, there is enough to wake the next day until I have need of them again. Those who are simply there to exist as a means..." Again he smiled, ending their dance with a bow and glance up. "You certainly don't lack the grace..." As his posture straightened, walking stick freed. "Tell me Anna, what sort of monster are you? To be called one by others is an accusation not given without just cause..."

REXANNA the sun inside of her rages like wildfire Archebold’s grip on her hand was light and cold, his other hand resting gently over her hip. She found her gaze lingering on his face, what seemed so elegant to hide such a beast beneath. His voice was soft as well as he began to lead her, spinning her and catching her, and she moved with the grace of a thief fast and silent on her feet as they danced. It was a surprisingly intimate dance, with Rexanna having nearly no other contact in what seemed like months. It surprised her slightly, but she went along with it, thankful she wasn’t his next target – this far at least. She was turned yet again to face him, seeing that fanged grin again at her question, and her head shifted once again in a contemplative tilt, her dark hair sweeping over her shoulders as she listened. He spoke and they danced, an unexpectedly successful one of no toes crushed much to her pleasure. Yet she nodded to him all the same as their dance ended and he bowed. “I see.” She added before he continued, speaking of her grace and she smiled in return. “I’ve learned to master the lightness of footsteps.” She winked to him then, a small laugh slipping through her lips. But his question to her caused the laugh to die in her throat as she rolled her shoulders in a bit of a shrug in response. “I’ve never intentionally set out to harm anyone…” She trailed off a bit, her eyes sharpening as if they looked through Archebold, as if she could see Halyven before her eyes, her years of running and using others. “I mostly tried to save myself. The guards and knights, they’d manage to catch me now and then, some of them lived, some of them didn’t.” Her gaze focused more clearly on Archebold with another slight shrug of her shoulders. “My typical method of getting away was exchanging… services.” Her arms folded easily across her chest as she looked away from him. “The men from Aciend were far more interested in fixing their loneliness than the money retrieved from my head.” She laughed somewhat quietly at the thought, a kind of mocking chuckle. “Sometimes they’d think they could take advantage of me, sometimes they knew better. I was on the run for years, you would think they would have learned at some point.” She offered, her head shifting to look at Archebold again. "I'm quite handy with a knife when required." and she is — gold, gold, gold.

coding

archebold Fear is the price of imagination "Would you like to know a secret? Something I learned a long time ago, and feel it necessary to share now?" As they danced, Archebold glided along the ground appearing all but weightless as he twirled Rexanna into his gentle grip of her waist, leaning in to speak against her ear. "The really bad...monsters....never look like monsters." The touch of his cool, smooth cheek grazed her own as he slipped back and twirled her into a dip and devious, fanged grin. "Divine..." He muttered quietly, holding her in the dipped position for a moment before bringing her back upright. "Seduction has a way of benefiting parties. You said you used your body in order to survive...but I'm curious if there was, a part of you deep down that found pleasure in this seduction of yours. Knowing you could manipulate men into doing what you wanted with a simple taste of your skin...it would be prudent to wield such power and not relish it, even the slightest bit." Archebold mused with a grin before he motioned her to continue following him along their path to his manor.

REXANNA the sun inside of her rages like wildfire Archebold spoke, and she found herself leaning toward him as they danced, his head moving easily by her ear to speak. A smirk crossed her features as his cold cheek grazed her own. He twirled her then, grinning with that fanged grin and she regarded him carefully. “Of course; you never know what you’re going to find.” She replied easily to his words, her eyes lingering on him before he dipped her. He then began to speak, of whether or not she enjoyed it. She thought about the words carefully, following him to wherever it was he decided to lead her. A small laugh breathlessly escaped her lips as she shook her head slightly. “Survival is one thing, yet the men back home weren’t much to feel flattered by.” She shrugged. “Eager to share some skin rather than hand me over to my captor.” She paused, looking around the area around them briefly. Her eyes found Archebold again and she sighed quietly, following him close. “Beauty for many is a relative term, for the most part back home I was normal looking for my kind. We were relatively plain all things considered.” She paused, recalling everything about the Aciend people. “My ex-husband for instance, him and his people had wings – great feathered ones. They were powerful and stunning and I honestly felt like a bag of rocks beside him.” She laughed at the memory, where once she had found it painful. “They were a unique type of people, focused pretty heavily in their military forces, though I suppose they had a bit of an advantage with those wings.” She offered quietly, her thoughts muddling as she thought about it more. and she is — gold, gold, gold.

coding