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Post by Korbin Kane on Jun 10, 2012 6:50:44 GMT -5
Sighing heavily, the beautiful silver and white Visconti pen slipping from his fingers, Korbin finally leaned back in his favorite chair. creak squeak creak squeak He loved it. Most of the paperwork had been sifted through. It was the usual. Orders, writs, addendums, police reports, referrals, he had to read, sign, update, record, sort, and file all of it. He had been working all day and was finally done. He turned in his chair to the steel cabinet behind him, pulling open a drawer and putting the last nila folder inside, shutting it and locking it by simply touching the lock. The pen disappeared from his desk.
Standing, Korbin stretched his human form, each muscle was quite real. Bones down his spine popped. Licking dry lips, he went over to his coffee maker on the counter and poured another cup. He would sip it, turning off the warmer with a thumb. Glancing out of his double paned, bullet proof, warded window, he judged it to be around six in the evening. He had a long day behind him, not only had he had paper work, he’d had people in and out of his office, bugging him with all kinds of assorted things. He handled them all with gentle courtesy. Now it was time for a little relaxation. Turning, he would go to the oak door in the back of his office. This room was quite special. Some people thought he lived here, and they were mostly right. He did have a nice house, but it was mostly for show. He did not have to sleep, he did not have to eat or do anything, he followed simple human requirements only when it was required because of being in the public, or when it suited him, or for simple pleasures, like the cup of coffee. He liked coffee.
The room had been designed to be a resting place for him, but he did not sleep in the same way people did. Most people thought behind the room was a closet, and that was what they would see if they were to get in his office somehow. It was quite a different story inside. Approaching the door, he would wave a hand across the center, before touching the handle. The door opened for him, and instead of a closet, a massive room lay within. It was impossibly large for the space it actually occupied. He loved it when he had a truly gifted magic user on his force. The room had been his greatest achievement as far as mundane uses. He would enter, closing the door carefully behind him; again his hand would pass the center, and touching the handle, locked again.
He strolled through the vast room, decorated with all manner of acquisitions over the years. He was collecting certain things. In the center of the room though, was a simple fire pit, with very old wood logs around the outside. It was rustic and outdoorsy looking; despite…not being outdoors at all, but it held the impression all the same. He sat on one of the logs, and looked at the arrangements of wood in the pit. Fire flared up from the center of the wood and grew on its own, feeding on the small tinders in the center until it grew to the rest of the logs. It was a simple little fire, and natural, real, the only kind of fire that really helped him. Sitting on the edge of the log, he would rest his elbows on his knees and just stare into the flames. They swayed towards him, dancing, as he drew from their essence. He enjoyed these moments when he could just be alone and relax. He wasn’t a kitsune or anything, but all energy comes from somewhere. Fire was his specialty, so it was from fire that he liked to rest beside. It wasn’t that he had done a whole lot, but he wanted to be rested up because he was going out tonight, and you never know what could go wrong. He still sipped his coffee.
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It was almost 8 now he guessed, and Korbin was wandering up the street to the Library, little Hazel skipping along beside him. He had tried to tell Hazel he didn’t need him tonight that he could go play or whatever, but Hazel was adamant. He liked going to the library, Korbin couldn’t imagine why. He wasn’t here for fun after all, he had business to do. He had changed, and was now in some jeans and a plain black tee shirt. His boots were Bates, steel toes. His gold chain with the gold cross was on the outside of his shirt. He had a pair of diamond studs in his ears. His badge was in a flip-out, in his back pocket. He also had a Droid X in its Otterbox was in his other back pocket. He did not appear to be carrying any weapon. That was because he didn’t need to. He was his own biggest weapon.
Hazel looked to be around thirteen right now, and had on some silly gothic outfit. Black oversized ground dragging jeans with chains drooping everywhere spike studs lining the numerous pockets galore. Black sneakers with holes, but you couldn’t see them beneath the cargo jeans. Two closed spiked ball 10s in each ear, short black hair spiked with red tips, he even had black eye liner, black painted lips, black painted nails, but the best part was his shirt. It completely threw off the whole outfit because it was white that had been tie-dyed with pink swirls all over it. His soft features and ready smile didn’t help. Korbin thought he looked ridiculous and told him so, but Hazel had just grinned up at him, his teeth stained red by the giant bubblegum filled lollipop in his mouth, the stick held in the corner of his lips. Once inside, Korbin walked with Hazel to the kids section, and he immediately ran for a Narnia book, The Silver Chair, and pounced on a double stuffed beanbag, flipping to the last page he left off. Hazel’s real reason for being down here was to watch who came and went. That he was perfectly visible and reading a book was his own prerogative. Korbin just shook his head and went upstairs. The Library would close at 9, he did not have a lot of time.
There was not that many people this late and so close to closing. His gaze swept over everyone present, but he didn’t feel anything to be concerned about.
Ten minutes later, Korbin was seated at a desk, on the third floor, in a quite secluded area, The Lesser Key of Solomon open before him, with several other various texts and manuscripts scattered around him. Some of the books would be related to histories, others would pertain to Stregheria, Skin Walkers, occults, and demonology. He had a notepad and the same white and silver Visconti in his left hand, taking swift notes in original Latin, finger of his right sliding down the page. |
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Post by Adalina Stregoni on Jun 12, 2012 23:21:47 GMT -5
A thick, manicured eyebrow arched sharply as she drummed her neatly filed, short, fire engine red fingernails on the oak wood conference desk. Her eyelids with the signature cat eyeliner across the top lids were lowered, and her full upper lip, painted a soft, pastel nude, was also slightly pulled in unison with her eyebrow, the rest of her lips in a slight frown with her nostrils a bit flared. It was just another face, one out of many, and this one was known to say Dici sul serio? -- Are you serious? Her hair was down in their natural, dark, gentle curls, seeming like loose springs at the ends. As she sat there, she wore a white, lace bustier slightly tucked under an empire waist bondage skirt and a matching white blazer on top. Nude pumps sat on her feet at the end of long, crossed legs and one swung a bit under the table, a Mac Book Pro sitting in front of her and a pen and legal notepad to her right. This person was serious?
This person was serious.
"Allora vediamo se ho capito bene, signor Salvatore," (So let's see if I understand correctly, Mr. Salvatore) she finally broke the silence, her facial expression never changing as she watched the man sitting across from her in his designer suit with his blonde hair smoothed back with gel. She hated gel. If she ever caught Vincenzo or Marco using it, she would surely pull out the garden hose and get the gloppy mess out of there as soon as possible. So unhealthy! Plus, it caused dandruff and flakes. He should have just used moose or leave-in conditioner. He took care of his suit better than his own hair. Sad, really, considering the suit would probably be useless after a few years - your hair would forever be on your head, "Vuoi mio marito a che fare con questo insediamento dando l'importo indicato sulla carta," (You want my husband to do this settlement by giving you the amount indicated on the paper) she began carefully, completely unamused by his supposed scare tactic, "al fine di tenervi la fuoriuscita di uno presunto video di sesso nostro in pubblico?" (in order to keep an alleged sex tape from being leaked into the public?). The man nodded with the smile of a triumphant man, leaning back comfortably in his chair as Adalina looked at him with that same Are you fucking serious? face that, from an outsiders point of view, would be priceless.
She relaxed her face after a few moments and, silently, closed her laptop and left it on the desk as her assistant walked in and took it to leave it in her office, "Mi dispiace, signor Salvatore, ma dovrò declinare," (I am sorry Mr. Salvatore, but I will have to decline) she smoothed out her skirt as she smiled at him though venom was shooting out through her blue, feline orbs, "ma mio marito e so che il luogo di tutti i nostri presunti video e lo sappiamo entrambi, per un fatto, che non sono titolari di tale elemento. Se così fosse, non sarebbe lo agitava intorno come è il Santo Graal. Ora, se si vuole, si prega di lasciare questo edificio e non tornare mai a meno che tu vorresti che io personalmente mandare in tribunale per molestie. Stiamo chiaro?" (but my husband and I know the whereabouts of all of our supposed videos and we both know, for a fact, that you do not hold such an item. If you did, you would not be waving it around like it is the Holy Grail. Now, if you will, please leave this building and never return unless you would like me to personally send you to court for harassment. Are we clear?) she held the legal pad and pen in her hand, putting it in her Gucci bag and zipping it up as she spoke. By the end, she stopped and looked at him, another bold smile as he looked at her a bit dumbfounded and unsure of what to do, "Ogni giorno, signor Salvatore," (any day now, Mr. Salvatore) she stated bluntly after a long moment of silence and the man seemed to clear his throat as he stood, smoothing out his suit with a nod.
What she really meant by court was ripping him a new asshole for wasting her time and, of course, this he knew or he wouldn't have left that conference room so quickly, "Avere una splendida serata. Essere sicuri!" (Have a wonderful evening, be safe!) she called out cheerfully. And that was how her day at work ended: with an idiot trying to get money out of them for some sex tape he claimed to have when he clearly didn't and if he did it was a staged one and a fake. It did not mean Adalina and Vincenzo didn't have any...they'd been together for over twenty years, they were bound to try new things some time, but the point was that she hated getting her time wasted. No one would care if such a thing were released. They were married. It wasn't like she was Miss. America and they could take away her crown or she was his mistress. Jesus Christ.
Her heels clicked on the floors as she walked, smiling brightly at the other employees who worked under her husband. She wasn't vice president or anything, she just dealt with certain other aspects but tonight, she had research to do. Trying to find information on demons? Sure they had tons of scrolls and books in her extensive library but she needed to read things she didn't know...like how to get one's magical energy back and if it was even possible. Her Nonna (grandmother) said it wasn't possible. Once it was gone it was gone and trying to get it back would only be in vain. Of course, wanting to be an actual part of the Stregoni, Adalina was stubborn and wouldn't take no for an answer. She would only figure this out if she could figure out this ninth circle demon and maybe there was a way to somehow cast it back into hell. Either way, she'd have to figure it out on her own. She didn't want the family involved. This was her problem, at least in her mind it was, and it was dangerous. Granted, the last time she tried to face this demon on her own, she'd nearly gotten killed but it had been unintentional. How was she supposed to know her mother's family had been trying to lure her to Sicily, alone, for so many years now? She didn't even think she had a maternal side other than Nonna up until ten years ago.
She checked the clock on the wall as she walked swiftly out of the building and into a private town car. In Italian, she instructed the driver to take her to the public library and he sped off, eventually dropping her off in the front. Her heels were muted against the carpeting of the floor and she made a beeline straight for the section she was looking for. She was a bit oblivious to the world around her, sure she could at least fend off anything should they randomly attack her which she highly doubted. Either way, she had her Swiss Army knife hidden on her despite her skin tight clothing. She also had her ever present enchanted necklace n underneath the large one she wore at that moment. Reaching the empty edge of the library, she ran her fingers through the dusty binds of the book and made a disgusted face before grabbing a specific one about certain demons in hell and their powers should they be summoned. It looked like something her maternal family would have used so she snagged it and soon enough was on the hunt for somewhere to sit and take notes since she didn't want check it out. Call it paranoia but it would be easier for her husband to piece two and two together if she brought it home. She ended up on the third floor and it was there her orbs landed on Korbin Kane.
Oh he was a sight for sore eyes! She always did have a thing for muscular, healthy looking, strong men - especially if tall considering she was tall herself. With the heels she was nearly six feet. But as she noticed his presence, she eyes looked down at his pen and a small frown appeared on her face, "A Visconti pen, Chief of Police?" she said it softly as she took a seat across from him, eyes just managing to catch the title of the book he was reading and making a mental note of it. She also flipped her book over to the cover and title were face down on the table, the binding too dusty to really give any indication of what it could possibly be, "My mother was a Visconti," she added sweetly, her Italian accent thick and rich, smooth as she spoke, "I envisioned you more as an Omas Pheonix kind of man," which was more expensive than a Visconti but either way,the name itself was what lead her to such a conclusion.
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Post by Korbin Kane on Jun 15, 2012 5:51:14 GMT -5
It wasn’t that he had no experience already with the scripts he was reading, especially the basic demonology books. No, he had plenty of experience with demons. It was simply that he had not really examined the use and practice of these arts, and was currently faced with them on a day to day basis, given his vulnerable spiritual position and the nature of his work. He had to understand exactly what he was dealing with. He had been over these references before, but as he watched the people who used them, he found that he had to go back and recheck things and verify other things. The Lesser Key of Solomon was a special book kept in a not so public location. There was another text, The Key of Solomon but it did not detail the demons and their abilities explicitly, which was what he was after right now. How he knew the Khlystov’s used demons was pretty easy, as it was not a very well hidden secret among the underground. Korbin had ears all over the place, not to mention, a thousand faces.
The 33d spirit is Gaap. he is a great president & a mighty Prince, he appeareth when ye  is in some of ye Southern Signes, in a humane shape, [Clm 849 reads: "He appears in the form of a doctor (medici, not meridii=southern as in Weyer) when he takes on a human form"] goeing before 4 great & mighty kings, as if he was a guide to conduct them along in their way. his office is to make men knowing in Phylosophy and all ye Liberall siences; he can cause love or hatred, and make men Insensible he can Teach yu how to consecrate those Things that belong to ye dominion of Amaymon his king & can dilever [deliver] familiers out of the custody of other Magicians; and [he also] answareth Truly and perfectly of Things past present and to come, & can carry and recarry [things] most speedily from one kingdome to another, at ye will and pleasure of [the] Exorcist, he ruleth over 66 \ Legions of spirits he was of ye order of potestates [potentates]; his seal is thus to be made & worne as a Lamen &c.
Korbin’s pen scratched upon the white notepad paper in elegantly, flowing shorthand script, taking only the specific details he wanted to note. He preferred old Latin over the rest of the languages, there was something in the way it sounded and how the printed text look that amused him the most of all the mortal languages. One might stereotype him, that all angels should be enameled to Hebrew, but that was just another ignorant cliché. His finger roamed down the page, looking for the most noteworthy names that he knew Vesevolod used the most, and the ones that were also around his son, Anatolya Khlystov the most often.
The 71 spirit is called Dantalion, he is a great & Mighty duke appearing in ye forme of a Man wth many faces, all like men & women, & a Booke in his right hand; his office is to Teach all arts and siences to anyone, and to declare ye secreet Councelles of anyone, for he knoweth ye Thoughts of all men and women, and can change them at his will, he can cause love and shew (by vision) ye true similitude of anyone lett them be in wt place or part of ye world they will, he governeth 36 Legions of spirits his seal is This, wch is to be worne as a Lamin.
The list went on and on, he skipped through several of the names. He then scanned the dangers of the summoning, and pondered over the possible existence of any weaknesses. Finally he put the pen down and rubbed the bridge of his nose, at the same time, pushing the book to the side, and pulling the Stregheria texts closer. Here, there were many inconsistencies between various texts, but the main points he noted were the beseeching of spirits, and the requirements of proper tools and invocations. He did not know to any great length the extent the Stregoni knew their arts, or much else about them except that he just knew they were capable of it. It was his job to know what he was dealing with, and take measures to understand and prepare. He had not personally met any of the members of the families. He was not even really bothered so much by the Stregoni, being more worried about the Khlystovs and Vsevolod’s dangerous abilities as a well-practiced theurgist. Looking over the greater mountain of demonology books and The Lesser Key of Solomon Korbin felt he had his work cut out for him.
There were so precious few truly good people in this city that attracted every possible supernatural creature and demon in existence to the point that Korbin felt like a droplet of water in a desert. There were as many sharks within the city as there were filling up the entire Pacific they bordered. That he was the Chief of Police surrounded with opposition on all sides, (and not a few assassination attempts) with at least four particularly powerful and dangerous individuals, with a goal that was far and above any mission he had been placed in before, (to the point that he actually felt the need to Fall) that perhaps it was getting around that time for a few (temporary) alliances…
(Enter the lovely Mrs. Adalina Stregoni
Hazel’s bright hazel colored eyes lifted over the top of his book at the entrance of the woman he immediately recognized as the wife of Mr. Stregoni. Ducking his head back down, the boy hid a grin that rivaled that of the Cheshire cat. Making a big show of yawning, stretching, and curling up on his comfy beanbag chair, the book coming to rest atop his chest slightly touching his chin, the child seemed to fall asleep as a very tiny red orb lifted from his ear, leaving the boy on the bag practically dead.
The angel zoomed up behind the woman who seemed on a mission to get somewhere and followed her briefly, spun around her head faster than she would have noticed, pathetic humans, before racing upwards through ceilings and walls to halt over the text Korbin was reading. The angel’s childlike laughter preceded the image of Mrs. Stregoni walking across the book, then ascending some stairs.
Korbin just stared. Really? Today? Of all the nights he was kept so busy with his work and patrols that he’d actually decided to take a break and go to the library for once and try to do some research, knowing full well the opportunity was rare, and having JUST left his train of thought about alliances, to have Mrs. Stregoni suddenly come walking across his page…Korbin felt almost certain that someone did not want him to get any work done. Some part of Korbin realized that somehow, Hazel had either known, or planned this. If he had known, Hazel must have had better Angel senses than he. It made the fact that he had insisted on coming tonight make more sense. Hazel did not always hang around Korbin, and he wondered if the Angel had seen something in her dreams that told him she would come today, or if he had planned this, perhaps input the desire to do so tonight of all nights, in her himself somehow. If he’d planned it, he could expect to be waxing the entire fleet of police cars for the next month…and he wouldn’t be in his favorite forms, no, Korbin would make him personify a greasy old Mexican. But since he wasn’t going to be paid for the job, he’d probably make him be Black. (Since he was so himself, he was allowed to make this jest.)
“Hazel…did you know?” To answer both Korbin’s spoken, and unspoken questions, the little image of Mrs. Stregoni climbing the stairs, now almost eye level, stopped walking and turned around in the air. The supermodel body bent forward at the waist, legs parting, going so low that Korbin could see right up her skirt. Her little head angled against the inside of her right knee, cheek almost touching, and gave him the most sexy, devilish grin. It told him two things. Yes, he had known somehow, reminding Korbin that he should never underestimate his friend again, and two, not only had the angel checked her out physically, but also had seen something in her Anima that she was 1, not after him, 2, while still being dangerous being the wife of Mr.Stregoni, one of the major crime bosses and powerful in his own right, she wasn’t a major threat that he should be truly concerned. And that she was decidedly human.
Angels are androgynous, neither male nor female, and were created, not born, which meant nothing else mattered but the jobs they were assigned to, and adhered to their roles with strict tenacity. They most often took forms that personified their nature, there were as often male appearing angels as female, it didn’t matter only how they felt like appearing, and what the situation might have called necessary. Hazel most often appeared as a young boy because it represented his mischievous, playful, and judging by the butt wiggling display before him, mostly innocent. Since they had Fallen, and Korbin having taken on a mostly permanent physical body that was as human as was absolutely necessary, losing his entire host of Angel’s, he was grateful to not be completely alone in his spiritual isolation. While boobies and booties meant nothing to him on a personal level, he knew the human body, it was still at least slightly amusing, and something he would never have intentionally gone looking to see. Hazel had never done this before either. Clearly the intent was to put Korbin at ease. She was here for her own reasons and would probably be happy to meet him.
“…” Korbin just shook his head at the teasing, taunting illusion, mostly unaffected but he didn’t feel compelled to disappear either. Still, his hands swept along the covers and spines of all of the books on the table around him, changing them to cover topics like werewolves and vampires, law, histories and the like. He also flipped the page he had been writing on, to the back, and quickly scribbled a few notes in a completely different handwriting style, in English. It would be better for him to appear like someone who was not ignorant to the nature of his city, which most people were aware of who weren’t blind as bats, and he wouldn’t be Chief if he wasn’t aware of it. He had survived this long by making as small a target of himself as he could. The criminals he dealt with on a daily basis were either human or weak supernaturals, beings his officers could handle. The crime bosses and The Bitch Queen Jusztina, were entities he did not have the full manpower to deal with and did not go against himself because there were greater repercussions if he did, and as far as Vesevolod went, he wasn’t sure the outcome of an all-out war. (for now) So he handled the small fries, which did them a favor by having less rivals, other than each other, and they in return, left him alone. Mrs. Stregoni being here, gave him an idea.
His attention returned to the silly Angel still flaunting the form of one of his enemies’ wives.
“Hazel…what am I going to do with you...” In reply, Mrs. Stregoni fluidly morphed into an image of Korbin Kane, staring into his own eyes, arms folding across his chest. The illusion then proceeded to flash into a stream of visions and images of himself dying in hundreds of gruesome and horrendous fashions, each worse than the one before, and all of them completely unrealistic and unreasonable since they were mostly physical deaths which weren’t possible, and then went on to more magic ones, still highly improbable, culminating in his True Manifestation form, shrunk down small enough to fit in his hand, dripping in spiritual binding chains while a pack of at least thirty Hell Hounds which were as small as pinky nails, ripped him asunder. The whole show was clearly orchestrated to tell him exactly what would happen without Hazel, as if his little companion was all important to his health and well-being. He did have to admit, it was nice having an extra pair of eyes he could completely trust. His human form limited him greatly, eyes that could only see a range in front of him, usually having a human brain that had almost human speed of reactions, muscles that could reach a certain height of mostly normal human strength…until he needed to change something.
Having a companion who knew him inside and out, kept him from feeling quite so alone and lonely; something he would not trade for anything, and made it a point to keep his friend safe. “Yes Hazel, I know. You are the only reason I am still here.” He chuckled softly. The illusion instantly disappeared, the tiny red orb zipping up to the side of his face. A very sultry laugh echoed through his ear, followed by…no way…did Hazel really just…Korbin’s hand reached up, and wiped his cheek off. Within the last two minutes, he had been turned on, off again and at the same time: schooled, then back on again, and then…licked. “Hazel…” The name was spoken in reprimand, but he knew his friend had already gone back to his shell of a boy form. That was Hazel for you.
Korbin rubbed the bridge of his nose, and pretended to be studying when Mrs. Stregoni finally glided into the room. Most of his interactions with the feminine gender had been work related, which was all business, or casual passing folks on the streets or viewing them from his invisible patrols. He knew his face had appeared on the news and in the paper many times, keeping up the well-publicized image of someone who cared for his city, and had just been a hero for one reason or another. No matter how much people had looked, they couldn’t find anything against him. He could even pass background checks as crooks looked for anything dirty on him. He had records forged by professionals that detailed someone who’d been born in the slums, and had chosen to become someone better than what his upbringing had been. He knew any good woman with some confidence in her, appreciated being admired for their obvious hard work at maintaining their image. Thus, he acknowledged her arrival, as if he had not been expecting her, glancing up and then giving her form the single up-down sweep and an approving smile. It was all she would get; any future glances at her would be to her eyes. He would respect her marriage, and their status differences. She was still technically the enemy; for all that Hazel had teased him.
"A Visconti pen, Chief of Police? My mother was a Visconti. I envisioned you more as an Omas Pheonix kind of man.”
Not only had she made a stunning arrival, her presence brightening up the room considerably, but she also made a decisive power-play move, alighting upon an innocent topic and perching upon it daintily. He would go along with her.
“Your father had very good taste, Signora.” He was a well-educated man living in a city that had all manner of cultural flavors, it was perfectly expected that he would have picked up a thing or two. “As much as I write, I have five or six of these? The inkwells are annoying to replace. I am not an extremely wealthy man, signora, my meager salary could not withstand six Omas Phoenix, one of the rare limited editions cost about as much as I make in six months.” He gave her a half grin that was charming and disarming, one of those knowing smiles that he was well known for. “I have a very nice desk to make up for it. Something I can be proud to write on for hours on end.” He could make as many Omas Phoenix in any design and edition he wanted and fill up a box the size of the city with them if he really wanted to, but she didn’t need to know that.
((Don't worry, I love length as well. I had too much time to muse on this. 2700 something words xD)) |
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Post by Adalina Stregoni on Jun 15, 2012 7:59:41 GMT -5
If there was one thing Adalina Stregoni appreciated in a man, it was respect and humility. Okay, that was two things, but the point is made. During her stay in Arc City, before her hiccup in Sicily, she'd taken notice of Korbin Kane, Chief of Police. She couldn't help but respect him, even as the Italian mage she once was. It wasn't his story or his supposedly fairly "spotless" past. Everyone had a past, whether good or bad. It all depended on how you made the most of it and came out on top whether you simply played up other parts of yourself, as Adalina did upon losing her magic, or lost yourself, again as Adalina did as well though how she lost herself was something she tended to keep from the rest of her family; the actual negative impact of possibly losing her magical essence for good causing one hell of a black hole to start forming in her chest. She still, on occasion, beat herself up over it even if she tried to keep the past where it belonged. But in order to have a better future for herself and for her family, she had to revisit that event over and over again, usually in her dreams (or more like nightmares) and have to feel the fear and loss of herself day in and day out. She was only further reminded when she couldn't even make a damn potion. It had visibly frustrated her before, when she'd made it back to her estate in the city and couldn't do anything magically inclined. Ambrogio knew what had happened - and he'd told Vincenzo ahead of time, before she arrived. She hadn't had any physical harm done to her body - but her soul felt like it had been tainted and it was like having a dirty spot that one couldn't just scrub away. A demon had reached in and stained her spiritually.
The best way to compare the feeling of what the ninth circle demon had done to her was rape. A woman who was raped constantly felt disgusting inside. No matter how many times she scrubbed with the bar of soap, she just couldn't get in there to clean whatever it was the rapist had tarnished. Lina knew it was a power play. She knew the demon was just buying his time before she'd want to face him again - stronger than she had been ten years ago, possibly wiser, with more knowledge into what she was getting herself into. She'd gone in blindly, only thinking of how to get back her beloved older brother alive and not thinking of her own safety and what her own death could actually do to the immediate Stregoni family she'd been married into. She didn't like to think of the possibility of how Vincenzo and Marco might have reacted had she not returned from Sicily alive but instead in a body bag - a body without any life and with a soul forever imprisoned in hell along with the rest of the Visconti daughters damned because of the greed of men. If that wasn't enough to turn Adalina sexist against the male gender, she didn't know what was. Then again, there were people, like her husband, like her son, like Korbin Kane across from her, who kept her from seeing all men as greedy, money hungry, disgusting pigs who would use women just to get whatever they wanted.
So when he had given her the once over, she had been oblivious to it mostly because she had learned not to take such looks seriously during her youth. Her eyes had always been for one man and one man alone and they were probably the best qualities about her: faithfulness and loyalty. There weren't very many women nowadays who had only ever been with one man and was completely fine with it, fine with not knowing what else was out there and expanding her horizons. She'd been born with leukemia and had struggled with it until the age of ten. By then, boys didn't exist in her world where all she did, from then on, was learn to fight, use magic, and the like. The subject of being with a male would send her into laughs and giggles, timid and withdrawn yet the subject of kicking a man's ass would get her excited and pumping with adrenaline. To this day, her brother still told her it was a miracle she was even married at the rate she was going. He'd always thought she would become a lesbian...or a nun.
"I will make sure to send you one for Christmas or your birthday, then," she smiled, then, keeping her eyes and nose out of his own books when she saw nothing interesting she didn't already know about. She knew there was something up with Mr. Kane. He couldn't have gotten into the position he was in on his own without a little help but he didn't seem like the cheating or bribery type. If he was, she would have figured that out by now. No, he was a good man but good men didn't make it far in Arc City. She knew she probably shouldn't be speaking with him, considering the code of conduct for the Stregoni strictly stated not to associate with police officers but it was always good to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as the saying always went. She didn't see Mr. Kane as a threat or an enemy - at least not in the supernatural world. In the business world, maybe. If he'd tried anything against the Stregoni Family which she highly doubted. Adalina herself may not be that strong but her husband, hell her son surely was as well as her older brother and father - all men practicing stregheria and being proficient in it - or more, "In Italy, anything with the Visconti name is bad luck," she said off handedly as she opened her book, feeling no need to entirely hide what she was doing since it didn't very much effect anyone but herself.
Adalina was trying to soul cleansing bit through the church. She'd become significatly more attached to her own spirituality in the past ten years and even if the incident was kept hidden from the public, it was very much so well known within the Stregoni, Lombardi, and Visconti families, "And granfather, not father," she corrected him with a brief and fleeting smile, "My father was a Lombardi," she said it simply, without any harsh connotations. She had already opened the dusty book she'd set on the table, flipping through the pages once she'd found what she was looking for within the Table of Contents. She had flipped to the page on the ninth circle demons and every single tid bit she needed to know about them ranging from how they are summoned - through blood and spiritual sacrifices as well as other means, their strengths, what they can do, etc. She knew about most demons - as she had to when dealing with those annoying Russians - but ninth circle demons was something she had never truly dived into deeply in all her years in the Stregoni family. It was only because dealing with them was so rare. Even eighth circle demons were more common in their lot.
But this wasn't even to go up against the Russians. No, this was for her own benefit, her own brain - one she could no longer block the thoughts of with magic because of her obvious disability - at least obvious to a mage or supernatural, "Werewolves and vampires, Chief?" she said it briefly, glancing up at him through thick lashes, "Interesting topic," she gave a mischievous smile but it faltered as her piercing blue orbs read on about demons much like the one she'd dealt with - and she wasn't pleased with what she was reading.
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Post by Korbin Kane on Jun 24, 2012 5:13:13 GMT -5
He had gone back to trying to read the book on the Streghera after speaking. He had only changed the covers and spines, not the content within, because that was just way too stinkin difficult. His eyes ran down the page, while his finger followed the lines, as if using his finger for a place marker. Actually, he was using his psychometry to ‘read’ the book, through the eyes of the writer, and anyone who had ever touched it. It was insanely difficult, the words and images of the people who had handled the book flooded his mind’s eye. He was trying to focus and narrow his vision onto the words themselves, when Adalina spoke some more.
“I will make sure to send you one for Christmas or your birthday, then.” Huh? Korbin stopped ‘reading’ and blinked a little bit, shaking his head before looking up. What had they just been talking about? Oh, the pen! He covered his hesitation by smiling at her while Razeal recollected. “That would be a nice offering, but really you don’t have to.” When was his birthday anyway…He really should not try psychometry on a very old item…at least not while trying to hold a conversation. But really, he was supposed to have been studying! “It has been a long time since anyone bothered to celebrate my birthday. I think too many people would rather I had never been born…” He grinned, obviously referring to the countless folks in his prisons and jails. “Sometimes I don’t even remember when it was.” Like now.
Obviously he did not have a ‘birthday’ but he had put the date that he created Korbin Kane on any future applications and forms. Also, the date he had Fallen was stored in his extensive history list, and whenever that date came around, he spent in fast and prayer. He wondered often, if the Father was angry with him for casting aside his Grace, but so far his new life h ad been successful, and every dangerous situation he had made it through. He hadn’t been struck randomly by lightening yet so that was a plus. He still felt sorrow at the loss of his immortality. The thought of a true death that loomed in his future, seemed closer at times when he looked around at the collection of very powerful individuals. That innocent Hazel had chosen to go down with him was at the same time, a great sadness, and a great comfort. To not be alone in his spiritual, self-imposed banishment was very important to him. That Hazel was destined to one day die as well, was a dark pit in the depths of his heart. But Hazel had known the risk and joined him on this quest for his own reasons. They had discussed it at great length already. Hazel knew the cost, knew the price, and was willing to sacrifice himself to see the Arc destroyed. The danger of its existence was immense, and so many had died in search of the keys already.
"And granfather, not father, my father was a Lombardi." Here, he started to laugh softly. “I meant, that your father had good taste in marrying your mother.” He was not sure what she meant about the Visconti name being unlucky, and chose not to comment on it. He knew nothing about her family history.
As far as how they were on the business front, bribery was a common and much used trait in many of the criminal factions. Make the cops look elsewhere so you could do your dirty deeds. Korbin would not stand for it, and while he knew it happened in his own force, he could not easily do much about it. He had destroyed many would-be criminal syndicates, by carefully investigating allegations of bribery when they came to his attention. He did what he could to keep as much of the crime down, without going around ‘popping’ in on things as they happened. That would just completely blow his cover for the families to know about some hero running around. No, he worked under the radar. When the major factions began entering the city, several years ago, even before he became Chief, he had to make a future setting decision. They were just too dangerous to take out by force, they had all come in large numbers, each faction a force all its own that to make a war with would ruin everything. He had left them alone, and they had set up, and built their shady enterprises. As long as they cleaned up their own messes, and policed their men, he did not stop them. The day they started going on massive large scale killing sprees, he would unleash every chain on every collar of every Cop he had in his force, and he would not stop until their holdfasts burned to the ground…He knew they killed, and schemed, and created problems so they could take care of them. He really despised them and what they did, but without a large scale war, there was not much he would do about it, for now. He could step in on the little things, and watch for opportunity and weakness.
"Werewolves and vampires, Chief? Interesting topic," He glanced down at the books around him and nodded once. “Yes, you see, sometimes I wonder. They are still people too right? Citizens? Should the laws of man extend to beings no longer considered human? I do not look forward to the day I have to arrest a vampire!” He said this with a deep laugh. He thought of something, and as the laugh faded, he grew contemplative. “You know, a werewolf is a killer, a beast, an unthinking monster…at least the very young ones. But they still make choices, they can still have decent lives. I actually have a werewolf or two in my police force. Very useful trackers they are! Excellent murder investigators.” He grinned. “And vampires…undead, blood drinkers…extremely long lived…most are evil and rotten to the core, but then there are some who cling to their mortality like a child to a mother. These books don’t paint either race in this light; every story just portrays them as monsters. I do see monsters, but I see people too. As long as there is the sentience of human thought, and a conscience, they have choices.” He smiled. He had Jericho to thank for that line of thought. Not that he had never thought of it that way, but Jericho just put it in so much simpler, yet profound terms.
Because he had not done so yet, when she met his gaze, he looked into her soul. Just looking at someone, Anima worked just fine, but he usually got the clearest information looking into their eyes. They say, the eyes are gateways to the soul, it was probably an angel who coined that phrase. What he saw, made Razeal shudder inside Korbin’s head, where his brain should have been. Oh sweet Jesus… This was the closest he would ever come to swearing on the Father’s name. The gaping black hole in her spirit simply reeked of demon taint. Like a something had reached in and decimated and destroyed a part of her leaving a massive expanse of darkness that he could do nothing to heal or fill. The realization that she had once had something there had been ripped away was a shock, was it a gift? Or something else? That had been removed by, well clearly a demon of great strength, far more than his own, and left this cold void that clearly bothered her, made him wish he could wrap his arms around her and hug her close and comfort her. No wonder she was reading about demons. Yes, he could read upside down too, that was a language all its own. He suddenly thanked Hazel for any part he’d had in bringing this one to her, or if it had been the City’s doing, well, he wasn’t going to thank the Arc, there’d be nothing good to come from that. Something had made this meeting possible, but what was its purpose? There was simply no way he could help her with this darkness, and she was the enemy, and he had a mission to accomplish. But was she really an enemy? Just like werewolves and vampires were still people, were not Vincenzo and Vsevolod people too?
He looked elsewhere, at her personality, her sins and deeds. Yes, she was also a dark person, she had killed, she had done dark things, but she was also a very loving and caring person, a mother, a wife. Korbin closed his eyes as she looked down and went back to her book, having noticed nothing of the exchange. Yes…the children. Marco. Lenny. Anatolya. As far as he knew, these children were a far cry from their parents, but if left alone, left to their parents whims, they would become no better. Could he reach out to them somehow? Or, if worse came to worse, how far was he willing to go on his mission? The arc had to be destroyed, there were other people looking for the keys, or worse, had keys already. He would not put it past his enemies to have also already acquired keys, yet he had no proof. Could he use the children as leverage if a situation arose? Yes the Arc had to be destroyed, but to what lengths was he willing to go? Ideally, he had to do this while maintaining his morality, keeping his identity, keeping Hazel and himself safe. But sometimes sacrifices had to be made as well. So many had died already, and these opponents, why had he let them creep into his city to begin with…anyway, these enemies had powerful and dark gifts, he did not doubt that they could be dangerous adversaries. Was he willing to put their children in compromising situations, would they even care or would they see getting rid of him the greater advantage? He thought about it in a different way. Hazel, what if they ever had Hazel? What would he do to save his friend? Such a moral dilemma! It was a train of thought he could not afford the price to board. |
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Post by Adalina Stregoni on Jun 26, 2012 13:54:59 GMT -5
"Well, I am certainly glad you were born," she said it casually as if this was something everyone said to each other everyday, as if she were describing the weather, but she meant it. She never thought someone shouldn't have been born aside from herself. She thought it was wrong and, being the more Catholic woman she was becoming, felt God put everyone on this earth for a reason; she was just losing sight as to why He bothered with her. Soon enough, he was diving into werewolves and vampires and she peered up at him through thick lashes. Her eyes wavered, full lips slightly forming into a grim line as she contemplated his view point before she nodded in agreement. He was right - werewolves and vampires were still human and if it were up to her, she would have them locked up for committing murder though in the defense of vampires, it wasn't entirely their fault. Humans were their food supply. Either way, there could be alternatives to murder. There always was.
She brushed a loose strand away from her face as she looked absently down at his hands, traveling up his arms to rest on his face again. He was a charming man, wasn't he? It was still a surprise a human would know so much about the supernatural though she couldn't be shocked entirely. She was human as well - and she knew tons about those that supposedly weren't. They were simply due to genes and genetics. Nothing more. Werewolves got the extra gene to shape shift; vampires had the extra gene to be allergic to the sun. Still, she had the weird feeling he wasn't human. He had to be something else unless he survived based on pure luck which she doubted. She didn't believe in luck as the werewolves did. She believed in chance, in strategy, in planning. Her entire life revolved around it. She'd been ill as a child up until the age of ten with acute nymphoblastic leukemia. Her life for ten years revolved around staying locked up in a home, schedules filled with doctor's visits and tutoring. It was something that stuck with her and thankfully the leukemia hadn't. She firmly believed Vincenzo had rescued her from some unknown fate when they had met in college. If Korbin wasn't human - maybe he could help her understand the hole she constantly felt? She hadn't told her husband about it...didn't want to. But it was still a surprise she felt a bit at ease around the chief of police.
"They should be punished like humans who break the law," she spoke quietly, Italian accent heavy and thick in her timbre styled voice, "Everyone always has choices," she mumbled the last bit out, more so to herself than him as if she were speaking directly to herself, scolding herself for having made such irrational and wrong choices in the past. She still regretted going to Sicily on her own. She should have brought a larger team but she hadn't. All she'd been thinking about was Ambrogio's safety and her own well being never once entered the equation until it was too late and she was face to face with a ninth circle demon she tired fighting off in vain. She should have listened to Vincenzo - should have obeyed when he said he would go in place of her but she'd been so stubborn! It was her family, her brother...her problem. Not his - and he had enough to deal with in Arc and the only thing she could ever wish for for Marco would be that he wouldn't end up fatherless. Boys need their fathers for guidance and protection...she couldn't bare it if something were to happen to her husband. Her love for him knew no boundaries.
She let her eyes drop from his steady gaze, feeling her cheeks flush. That felt odd - like he was looking deep into her soul or something. She brushed it off as paranoia and figured that his gaze was just always like that and she'd only just noticed now when she was as close to being alone with him as they could get. Letting the silence fall heavily on her shoulders, she flipped a few pages in the book, having lost her place, and then frowned at some more of the words she was reading. Personally, she couldn't send that ninth circle demon back to hell on her own or even kill him and his dangerously handsome features - so deceptive. Not that she fell for it in the first place. She had Vincenzo on a damn pedestal and there was no bringing him down in her world.
After a while, she stole a glance up at Korbin and hesitantly, decided she should just ask him. Maybe he knew something that could help and she could say it without giving too much away, "Do you know about demons, Mr. Kane," it came out more like a statement than a question but her voice was quiet not for privacy but almost from the slight fear that had wedged itself into the pit of her throat. She didn't want her fear noticeable but that one demon really did scare the life out of her....literally. It was scary to think she'd been so close to death at that moment - her soul to never rest and forever wander hell with the rest of the Visconti daughters.
Deep down, she knew she was praying he knew more than she did, that maybe he knew a way to somehow trap a ninth circle demon so it couldn't harm anyone else. She couldn't be a horrible person for wanting to dispose of a demon, could she? There had to be a reason why she had found him here, why they were sitting across from each other and she was determined to find out.
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Post by Eleri on Jul 15, 2012 19:48:09 GMT -5
[[Mind if I butt in?]]
As nice as the park was, Eleri had to have a chance of scenery now and then. She didn't get bored necessarily, but a human would. Humans can't sit on the same park bench knitting for years on end. Changing forms helped that appearance. Adult Eleri didn't actually have a job, but she had to pretend she did. The library was her third favorite place in the whole city. The cathedral felt most like home, but it wasn't much use to sit there. A nice place, but not a useful one for her, even when searching for a charge. Sitting in a pew doesn't make someone any better of a person than the next. If anything, she was wary of any zealous Christians in Arc City. Religion is a place of forgiveness, and too often she found people desiring forgiveness for what they continued to do. Formalities of religion meant little to her.
Second was the park. It had the ability to give her more true knowledge than the library could. Generally word of mouth isn't trustworthy, but by reading into the mouth's soul, truth could be discerned. If people knew how much some of their history books had been skewed, Eleri was sure libraries would lose some business. However, as her third favorite place in the city, she still appreciated the effort made. Truth could still be discerned. As she paused in the lobby, she closed her eyes and pretended to deeply appreciate the smell of books as opposed to the smell of a busy city ridden with gasoline and whatever was lurking in the gutters. Instead, she took a quick sweep of the library's souls. An odd presence on the third floor, along with... some sort of eternal being, but she didn't hover long. It didn't seem menacing enough to worry about yet, although powerful, but there was still the rest of the library to scan. Minor activity, didn't seem like it'd be too dangerous. Good enough for Arc City.
Eleri was extremely familiar with the philosophy, religion, and fiction sections. Most of the classics she had already read, but it was nice to fondly remember the people who had read them or written them. History mattered not when she had lived a lot of it secondhand. There was something to be said about the mysticism department of this library, however. In any other library she wouldn't say so, but in Arc City's library, there was already an increased chance that they had pertinance and that some schmuck actually did his research on the angels, demons, vampires, magic users, and other bizarre things. The librarian was well familiar with the topic as a resident of Arc City, and perhaps as something entirely different.
Her purposes for being in the library extended beyond appearances. There was a higher chance of respectable beings enjoying literature than enjoying sitting in an alley way or in a sleezy bar. Specifically the type of being that Eleri was looking for, one that she'd be willing to bond with in this miserable city. She kept her ears open as she ascended the staircase slowly, then walking through the chairs and tables on the second floor, mostly comprised of philosophy and psychology books. What a mess libraries were before the Dewey Decimal System, truly. Far less public. It led to another reason why Eleri loved the library, it was good to see so many people drinking in the knowledge that led them to develop even more. However, she wasn't in the mood to reread a philosophy classic nor some new student's critical essays on one. She continued on to the third floor. She was sure that by the time she reached the top, she'd work her way down slowly again and by then the library would close. If not, they'd have to kick her out.
Eleri's curiosity was sure to get the better of her some day, but she liked to believe it was also what kept her alive. Instead of attempting another anima read on the floor, she would do things the old fashioned way. Lingering on the odd presences would likely draw their attention. Eavesdropping was much more subtle although not infallible. Since Eleri had not gone through fabricating her place in society, she wasn't able to apply for a library card properly, and had to only read books while in the library. There had been one she was working on before a snippet had caught her attention last time she was working in the library. Well, she was part way through a lot of the books. Between ones getting checked out and which floor she felt like being on, there was on average four books per floor that she was working on. Her favorite sections made up for the lack in others.
She wove through the familiar book cases to a more privated corner of the room. Books at this end were less likely to be checked out as frequently, causing Eleri to more frequently pick them to read. To her surprise, she found two people already there. The surprise didn't register on her face, but she turned to the bookcase closest to her and scanned it. Her left eyebrow jumped up for a brief moment as she glanced at multiple titles dealing with demon lore. She walked away with a shrug as if not finding what she wanted, and mozied away, but kept an ear on what was going on at the table. Still, curiosity was getting the better of her. She wanted to move to the next aisle over, hoping to get a glance at what the people were reading. It was a challenge to do this without exerting any powers, but something to keep her occupied and entertained although foolhardy. Of course, there was always a better disguise. She skipped a few aisles and went into a corner of the room without windows. Once there, she took a moment to shift into her seven-year old form. Entering the library this way would have been a problem, but now it was perfect. Odd to be on the third floor, but children wandered easily.
Eleri tottered back over to the area the desks were in. Even though a seven year old could get away with less action wise, it was also a form less likely to be sent to find their mother. She ran through the aisle and giggled, pretending to hide behind one of the bookshelves when in actuality she was in plain sight of the people she was previously hiding from. As she looked around to check if her imaginary pursuer was nearby, she saw the two people again more clearly. She walked up to them and popped her head over the side of the table, looking up at the woman. Eleri immediately noticed a hint of tension between them. They were in some sort of important discussion, and here she was butting in to find out what they were reading instead of listening. Too late now, she figured.
"Have you seen Marcy?", she asked. Then, imitating a true child's attention span, looked back down to the table. "Oh wow! Those are old books! There's lots of old books here. What are these about?", she asked again, with large eyes and an open mouth. "I don't think that's even English!", she said glancing at the other book. It was hard to tell from the angle she was at anyway, and she could always pull her uneducated/homeless child act if it really was English.
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Post by Adalina Stregoni on Jul 16, 2012 10:08:26 GMT -5
Adalina tensed when she felt the presence of someone else on their floor. More so it was her paranoia. As a Stregoni, her life was constantly in danger and for the past decade she'd been particularly paranoid for its well being and with good reason. She made the volume of her words even lower than they were. She was close enough to Korbin that he'd be able to hear her and as the last question left her mouth, she immediately shut it when, in her peripheral, she could sight of golden blonde curls. Her muscles locked into place as her blue orbs darted over to the figure and soon enough a little girl appeared.
Little girls were a sore spot for the female. As much as she always wanted a baby girl, she knew it wouldn't be possible unless the ninth circle demon attached to the Visconti family was killed. Even if she were killed first, her daughter would be next and the never ending, vicious cycle would continue. She was glad, truly, that she had her son Marco but she always imagined herself having a large family with at least three children. Now here she was, with only one son. True, she occupied her time with cooking, cleaning when the help would let her, working, and her husband in the evenings but of course she always felt unfulfilled, always felt that void magic had been able to fill and keep her distracted from. Marco wasn't a child anymore but if she could turn him to the age of this little girl if only for one day, she would. He was somewhere around the little girl's age, maybe older, when the incident occurred - one she would never be able to erase from her history.
So when the little girl reached them and was speaking, Adalina watched her, her muscles still tensed and her jaw locked. It wasn't from annoyance but from the sudden pang of guilt and sadness that swept through her. She forced herself to push it away. What on earth was a little girl doing wandering the library at this time? This was Arc City...even the library wasn't a safe place to be. Maternal instincts seemed to kick in and she seemed to push away her own building tension but not entirely. She never put it behind anyone to shift into a child just to gain some access or get under someone's skin. Though this girl appeared to be just that - a little girl - in Arc City, paranoia could save your life. But, in case she was just a little girl, Adalina didn't ignore her or shoo her away, "Very old and boring histories," she replied with a tender, motherly smile she normally had when dealing with Marco. It came easily and that pang of sadness at wanting a baby girl hit her core again.
"Where is your mother?" she didn't let the little girl see the book she was reading. A child didn't need to know about demons and such...it could give her nightmares. Why else had she been so animate about Marco learning the Stregoni Magic? He needed normalcy just as her grandmother had done for her - or tried to for the most part. Plus, Adalina knew the attention span of children. If she kept the subject of the books limited, the little girl wouldn't be as interested and could be distracted. It worked with her nephews so why not? Her eyes shifted over to Korbin, wondering if he ever, in fact, even thought about settling down and having children...if he even could. Or if he even dealt with children. She knew Korbin Kane had to be a supernatural being but even the supernatural had children of their own. Granted, vampires couldn't have them - but they bit other people whom they would come to consider as their off spring and call them as such.
One thing Adalina didn't want was the little girl to get hurt, though. She had such a little angelic face and her mother bear mode was kicking in. She felt the odd need to protect her and maybe it stemmed from places deep within her she hadn't visited in a long time. Either way, she could have sworn, earlier, that the presence she'd felt on their floor had been from someone much older - not a child. She'd had training in this while growing up in Italy and her keen little sense usually was right on the money. For some reason she'd gotten it wrong this time...or the child was a shifter which would just upset Adalina. She didn't know why she found it wrong to shift into a child just to get ahead in whatever scheme one was doing. Maybe it was simply because Adalina found children to be almost...sacred. They were a blessing, innocent until tainted, harmless, defenseless. No one would ever suspect a child and Adalina was trying to gauge Korbin's reaction to make sure she wasn't the only one thinking this. He had more experience dealing with shifters and such than she did. Most of her efforts were spent on the demons that were those Russian magic users than anything.
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