One should never deal without the rules being clearly delineated. This was the first rule of Alastor's station, he knew it intimately. And there was something amusingly mundane about Lotte's words, the first mundane thing she'd done in his presence, and yet this failed to disturb him. It should have been disappointing, after all this, for her to say those words. It wasn't. It was intriguing in how ordinary it was, how expected, because it had only come now, and that was not expected.
"And what do you want out of it?" he asked, bending again at the waist to loom over her, a cloud that blocked the brilliance of the moon peeking through the clear patch of air that surrounded them. Alastor sucked in a breath again (though he didn't need to do such things, anymore), just to taste what he had created. One day, he would taste that blood in those vials, and think of it the same way - as his own creation. Something he brought forth into the world. Lotte wouldn't have done it for just anyone, he imagined.
Her hand hung in the air between it, and he looked down at it, sheltered in the shadow of his body, but he wouldn't take it yet. Not until she answered him. These were the rules, everything had rules.
"An adventure, a companion? If I am a man, and I am, I could be that for you." It might be funny, he thought. Imagine that, if he really did become ordinary again, after this whole thing was over. What would that be like, to play at an ordinary life? He hardly had, when he was living. Then, ordinary seemed boring, impossible to bear. He hummed to himself and stood straight with that familiar snap that implied his bones weren't meant to move the way they did, in spite of the apparent ease with which they did it. "Do you want a lovely garden? The finest house on the block? Tell me, I'd so love to know. A deal is a two way street, you must want something."
no subject
One should never deal without the rules being clearly delineated. This was the first rule of Alastor's station, he knew it intimately. And there was something amusingly mundane about Lotte's words, the first mundane thing she'd done in his presence, and yet this failed to disturb him. It should have been disappointing, after all this, for her to say those words. It wasn't. It was intriguing in how ordinary it was, how expected, because it had only come now, and that was not expected.
"And what do you want out of it?" he asked, bending again at the waist to loom over her, a cloud that blocked the brilliance of the moon peeking through the clear patch of air that surrounded them. Alastor sucked in a breath again (though he didn't need to do such things, anymore), just to taste what he had created. One day, he would taste that blood in those vials, and think of it the same way - as his own creation. Something he brought forth into the world. Lotte wouldn't have done it for just anyone, he imagined.
Her hand hung in the air between it, and he looked down at it, sheltered in the shadow of his body, but he wouldn't take it yet. Not until she answered him. These were the rules, everything had rules.
"An adventure, a companion? If I am a man, and I am, I could be that for you." It might be funny, he thought. Imagine that, if he really did become ordinary again, after this whole thing was over. What would that be like, to play at an ordinary life? He hardly had, when he was living. Then, ordinary seemed boring, impossible to bear. He hummed to himself and stood straight with that familiar snap that implied his bones weren't meant to move the way they did, in spite of the apparent ease with which they did it. "Do you want a lovely garden? The finest house on the block? Tell me, I'd so love to know. A deal is a two way street, you must want something."