There was a difference, between the Alastor that existed in the circle and the Alastor that existed outside its confines. A revelatory fact Lotte only became aware of as he took long strides forward and simply... passed through the barrier of the circle as if it weren't there. And to mortal eyes, it wouldn't appear to be there at all, but Lotte knew that it was. And she knew that what was inside it, wasn't supposed to move beyond it.
Or so she had thought, prior to this very moment.
The sound of her glass of whiskey as it clattered to the floor was background noise, no more discernible than the crackling of the fire. She couldn't even recall when exactly it had started to slip loose from her fingers, and she didn't bother scrambling to retrieve it. Lotte was frozen in place like a doe in headlights, stared with wide, awestruck eyes as Alastor became part of the world properly. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, very very far from the forefront at the moment, she'd wonder how much exhilaration a heart could take before it simply gave out, because she might be very well close to the limit, the way it rabbited wildly in her chest.
"Could you always do that?" Lotte took a step to each side, as if to check that he wasn't simply some apparition, but she found him to be wholly, entirely there. Standing in the middle of her home as if he'd walked in through the front door.
Though she hadn't realized it before, while confined to the circle there had been a sort of film over him. She had seen everything important - his eyes, his teeth, the crepe paper curl of his skin when he smiled too much, but not nearly enough. Like this, every thread of his tailored coat was visible, every strand of hair, the subtly worn leather on the tops of his narrow dress shoes.
It didn't escape her, now, that Alastor appeared quite pleased with himself, and so it wasn't hard to put together that he had clearly always been able to leave the circle, he simply hadn't wished to before this moment. Manners? A game? Lotte supposed it didn't matter. A girl couldn't very well invite a trickster into her home and then be surprised when tricks were played, could she?
Every inch of her burned with an intense, undeniable urge to touch him. Well, not like that. Not in any sort of inappropriate way, really, but simply to confirm what her eyes perceived. Lotte had never in her whole life touched another magical thing, and her fingers twitched around swollen but wretchedly empty air while her curiosity burned through her hotter and harder than the whiskey.
When she'd finished devouring each new detail of his sharpened image, her eyes found his again and she grinned, so very pleased at this turn of events now that the shock had worn off.
"If I had a mother worth her salt, she'd tell me to watch out for you," Lotte hummed, and it had precious little to do with the fact that Alastor was a demon. "Well then! You've seen the house... I suppose you're probably more interested in what's going on out here."
She turned and walked through the threshold, the only warm and golden thing in view once she'd left the cabin's hearth-lit haze. The horizon was inky black and indigo, the light struggling to pierce through earth strewn into the atmosphere for miles and miles, as far as the eye could see. The fields and fence lines that streaked across it were like bloody red gashes, festering and angry, battle scars haphazardly stitched back together after the storm.
Lotte stepped down off the porch, boots immediately sinking several inches into the dirt and sand that covered the ground. As she waded out into the land before the cottage, she glanced back at Alastor, ruddy skin and hair catching the light from the cabin. "What would you like to see?"
no subject
There was a difference, between the Alastor that existed in the circle and the Alastor that existed outside its confines. A revelatory fact Lotte only became aware of as he took long strides forward and simply... passed through the barrier of the circle as if it weren't there. And to mortal eyes, it wouldn't appear to be there at all, but Lotte knew that it was. And she knew that what was inside it, wasn't supposed to move beyond it.
Or so she had thought, prior to this very moment.
The sound of her glass of whiskey as it clattered to the floor was background noise, no more discernible than the crackling of the fire. She couldn't even recall when exactly it had started to slip loose from her fingers, and she didn't bother scrambling to retrieve it. Lotte was frozen in place like a doe in headlights, stared with wide, awestruck eyes as Alastor became part of the world properly. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, very very far from the forefront at the moment, she'd wonder how much exhilaration a heart could take before it simply gave out, because she might be very well close to the limit, the way it rabbited wildly in her chest.
"Could you always do that?" Lotte took a step to each side, as if to check that he wasn't simply some apparition, but she found him to be wholly, entirely there. Standing in the middle of her home as if he'd walked in through the front door.
Though she hadn't realized it before, while confined to the circle there had been a sort of film over him. She had seen everything important - his eyes, his teeth, the crepe paper curl of his skin when he smiled too much, but not nearly enough. Like this, every thread of his tailored coat was visible, every strand of hair, the subtly worn leather on the tops of his narrow dress shoes.
It didn't escape her, now, that Alastor appeared quite pleased with himself, and so it wasn't hard to put together that he had clearly always been able to leave the circle, he simply hadn't wished to before this moment. Manners? A game? Lotte supposed it didn't matter. A girl couldn't very well invite a trickster into her home and then be surprised when tricks were played, could she?
Every inch of her burned with an intense, undeniable urge to touch him. Well, not like that. Not in any sort of inappropriate way, really, but simply to confirm what her eyes perceived. Lotte had never in her whole life touched another magical thing, and her fingers twitched around swollen but wretchedly empty air while her curiosity burned through her hotter and harder than the whiskey.
When she'd finished devouring each new detail of his sharpened image, her eyes found his again and she grinned, so very pleased at this turn of events now that the shock had worn off.
"If I had a mother worth her salt, she'd tell me to watch out for you," Lotte hummed, and it had precious little to do with the fact that Alastor was a demon. "Well then! You've seen the house... I suppose you're probably more interested in what's going on out here."
She turned and walked through the threshold, the only warm and golden thing in view once she'd left the cabin's hearth-lit haze. The horizon was inky black and indigo, the light struggling to pierce through earth strewn into the atmosphere for miles and miles, as far as the eye could see. The fields and fence lines that streaked across it were like bloody red gashes, festering and angry, battle scars haphazardly stitched back together after the storm.
Lotte stepped down off the porch, boots immediately sinking several inches into the dirt and sand that covered the ground. As she waded out into the land before the cottage, she glanced back at Alastor, ruddy skin and hair catching the light from the cabin. "What would you like to see?"