the vampire and the goddess

[ourladytrees]

regis & julia

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[ourladytrees]

[ Julia is too exhausted for a quick, startled turn at the man's sudden appearance, though her pulse somehow ratchets up regardless as she freezes like a cornered animal and looks at him like she's expecting him to sprout teeth and claws to devour her whole. Instinct tells her not to trust him, that taking her chances out there in the wild of this unfamiliar world would be better than risking staying here, but she's too practical to give in to that urge. She needs to hide, rest, and decide her next steps. The Library's henchmen could be right behind her, or just over the next hill, and there is no good choice here, only a lesser evil.

This is the best option she has. Putting her trust in a stranger who might offer her up on a platter to her enemies at the first opportunity. Or he might help her.

Please let him help her. ]

I need to hide. [ It comes out too small, too timid, and she steels her spine and becomes the tough New York socialite who never once took no for an answer. She might be weakened but she is not weak, and she refuses to be a victim again. Her fingers tighten around the grass, grasping at its roots, and then she straightens up, wobbling to her feet like a newborn horse fighting to live. ] There are people looking for me who will kill me if they find me. Is there somewhere I can go nearby?

[szpakowaty]

[ A-ha. Trouble. The package that it came wrapped in is different from what Regis'd imagined, but the contents are the same; no one stumbles into a graveyard because things are fine.

Dark eyes widen just a fraction at the forthright admission of her fugitive status. They widen a sliver more at the cavalier mention of murder, not because the topic is unexpected (anything but), but because he'd expected a bit more meandering before being presented with it.

"I appreciate your candor", Regis thinks to say, but that sounds a bit unhinged. Long fingers flex around the strap of the satchel strung across his body, and tug it closer to his chest. ]

There are many places that you can go nearby, [ he offers gently, ] but some may be more safe than others, depending on who you happen to be running from.

[ A roundabout way of asking if she'd be willing to continue being candid, or if she has her limits. The corner of his lips quirks in a thin smile, sympathetic. ]

We can speak further in my so-called-home, if you're amenable to conversing in crypts. And more importantly: are you hurt at all?