Stranger in a Strange Land [Jenn]

[Shinigami]

[ooc: Whee! Pre-RP!]



Kebiemusishere stared around the crowded streets of London with wide eyes, perched upon a bench at the edge of a park. The whole place was...so very strange, so very different from her home in Egypt. Though it was light out, no one eyed her too strangely, for all they saw was a strange – and beautiful – woman sitting on the bench. Her hair was long and black, like the finest Pharaoh’s wig, and her eyes were equally as black, a major difference from her other form, where her eyes were the standard, blank white. Strangely she wore a mask, hiding many of her fine features. But she was still beautiful to the eyes of the humans.

Or at least, beautiful to the eyes of her own people. These strangers were odd in their ways, though they seemed to appreciate her appearance as was proper. Absently, she wondered how they would taste, living in this damp world instead of the hot sand of her homeland. Despite its differences though, there was something...charming about London.

Tanned skin shone warmly in the sunlight, and finally she stood up, silken robes swirling around her, beads chiming about her wrists, and began to walk further into the park. Maybe there would be one of her own kind around to escort her to the best tourist attractions, whether they be for humans...or for Euclide.

[Jenn]

Atreju strode through the city at a 'busy' pace - at least, that was what he liked to call it. The humans never seemed to bother anyone moving at that speed. It was quick enough to make him seem hurried and disinclined to talk but not so quick that it attracted undue attention. It also moved him along at enough of a clip that no one noticed his slightly unusual gait, tailored as it was for bipedal legs. A large cloak shielded him from both the day's sunlight and the potentially prying eyes of bystanders. His cloak was warm in the spring, but not so hot that he would have to abandon it. As usual, a raven's mask adorned his face, leaving the humans to assume what they would about his appearance. A reveler of some sort, perhaps?

He made it through the busy pedestrian walks next to London's streets and into Onyx Park. His steps slowed somewhat and he allowed himself a deep, satisfied breath of sweetly scented air. This time of year, everything had already budded and bloomed, their blossoms either still releasing a delightful fragrance or slowly wilting, their death bringing a more cloying smell. Dayobi had chosen a beautiful spot for her home. That was something he couldn't praise enough, especially after his years living in a dingy, if private, attic loft.

A woman walked not far off from him, their paths parallel but fated to cross in a few dozen feet. He admired her as he continued on, the smooth darkness of her hair and exotic cut of her clothing marking her quite clearly as foreign to England's shores. Something else about her movements, however, the slight sway to her walk that niggled at his memory.

The walk of a predator at rest...

His white eyes narrowed and he smiled, teeth glinting in the shadow of his hood and mask. How he loved marionettes.

[Shinigami]

Movement to her side caught her attention, and she turned to see someone equally as masked as she, though his was distinctly that of a raven, his cloak sweeping outward in a mimicry of that dark bird’s wings. However, she noticed something...different about his walk. She, who was trained to notice the most subtle of nuances in the way that a person moved and acted, noted this difference immediately. A smile spread across her masked face, reddened lips curling upward in a smooth curve.

Shere didn’t immediately make her interest known, instead continuing along her path at the same slow stride she’d been moving at before. Just before they came to cross paths though, she stopped with a delicate movement backward, as if she had been startled by his presence there. Eyes went wide behind her mask, one graceful hand flying to her mouth, lips parting in a quiet, “Ah!” Her clothing flowed forward once more on her momentum before swinging back to settle around her form with a quiet clatter from her adornments.

Ebony eyes studied the cloaked “man” before her, before she caught the edges of her skirt in her hands and spread them, curtseying slightly to him. “Oh, I hope I didn’t interrupt you...” she said softly, her voice only slightly touched by an Egyptian accent.

[Jenn]

Continuing his approach at a slightly more sedate pace, Atreju stopped before their paths crossed as she noticed him, unaware that he'd been spotted several steps before, though he wouldn't have been unduly surprised. He smiled again at her polite curtsy, the expression shadowed beneath his beak, and spread his cloak as he bowed in return. The effect pleased him and suited his slightly melodramatic persona, that of the artist.

"Not in the least, mademoiselle," he replied elegantly, his British accent impeccable but with the slightest hint of French tutelage in speaking her courtesy, that of an aristocrat or an actor. "I must confess, your presence is an unexpected highlight to an otherwise lackluster and unexciting evening. If I am not mistaken, I noted a certain...feral...grace in your movements. Perhaps it was simply my imagination, though I think not. Such things are as alluring as a tempting smile or heated glance to one such as I."

His own smile spoke volumes for his interest. Not a Masquerade himself, he wondered if she truly was or if her mask was merely a fond affectation. Enough people had confused him for his Lady's type. Perhaps she was similarly used to such misunderstanding. Perhaps not.

"I do not recognize you, and I know many who walk the paths of this lovely park," he continued. "Might I be graced with your name, that it should reside in my memory and warm my thoughts on many a weary night? My own humble moniker is Atreju."

[Shinigami]

How lovely, he was! Cream and lace wrapped in the shadow of a graceful bird. His bow was like a raven alighting upon a branch before a particularly favored passer-by, and she found herself mildly enchanted by his mannerisms, and very appreciative of them. What human lady wouldn’t become utterly enthralled by this gallant gentleman? Yes, she’d made the right choice to come visit this park, she decided. For a second she wondered if he too was a Marionette – so rare, for a male to be one – but the fact that his movement indicated the humanoid form of a Euclides told her otherwise. Instead she kept her smile upon her lips, dark eyes focused on the masked form.

“Such charming words, good sir,” she purred back. “I find that the imagination can sometimes be the only thing to portray the truth, as our minds enjoy confusing us and deluding us into believing otherwise.” Shere didn’t admit anything out loud, though. “Sometimes the feral can be far more attractive to us all, though.”

She did indeed eye his mask with consideration, and it was his sheer energy that convinced her that he must have at least some Masquerade blood in him. But as a mixed type herself, she knew the signs of mixed blood, and he definitely displayed it. However, she wondered just what other types he was – it would be impossible to really tell, unless he told her, or she saw his fur. She hoped for the latter.

“Ah, I am but a visitor to this place, a traveler seeking a home amongst such foreign cities,” she finally replied. “But upon meeting such as you, I find hope that perhaps London shall be more welcoming than anywhere else I have stepped foot upon. Your grace does you well, sir Atreju. I am Kebiemusishere, a true daughter of Egypt’s Lady of the Sands.”

[Jenn]

"A lovelier introduction I have never heard! I am sure the mother pales before her daughter, as little could compete with your radiant profile," Atreju murmured in response, taking a secret delight in her fluid parry. Not many were up to the playful challenge offered in his flowery speech. She returned it in kind, her accent adding an exotic flavor to the words. He wondered how difficult it would be to cultivate one similar, simply for show.

"I must confess that I have never journeyed from England's shores, though I've heard many exciting and fantastic tales of Egypt." Endless expanses of sand, foreign dress and language, haunted tombs and frightful corpses wrapped in gauze... "Hopefully I may hear more in the near future, should you have any to tell? Everyone has their own stories, their own legends, and these things fascinate me. One story builds upon another so beautifully, after all, and your own stories must be simply lovely."

The cloaked feline resumed his walk down the cobbled path, enjoying her presence. "I know not how I would fare without greenery surrounding me," he murmured, running a lightly-furred hand-paw through a bush with small yellow flowers as they passed it. Auburn fingers and palm led up to a black wrist, the rest concealed in the shadowy arm-hole of the cloak. He dared to let her see the non-human, now certain of her nature. If by some bizarre chance he turned out to be incorrect and she gasped in shock at the furred appendage, he could quickly remedy the situation with a few swift bites. Then he would have an elegant present for Lady Dayobi and a snack all in one. He hoped, however, that he was not mistaken.

The path wound through a sweet-smelling patch of flowers, eventually leading near an entrance to his lady's den - and, consequently, his home. "Perhaps you would be amenable to a conversation over wine?" he queried, voice light and easy. "I know of an excellent resting place near here where we might seek out a vintage to your liking."

[Shinigami]

“We are only shadows of the Lady’s magnificent radiance, though the light shines brighter in some,” she replied, not stating the, ‘such as myself,’ out loud. It was unnecessary – she knew that she was beautiful, and she knew that others knew she was beautiful. She was a Marionette, after all, and it was what she did. However, there was no need to speak of it out loud – such immodesty was looked down upon, even amongst the harsher people of the desert.

“There is much to see throughout the world,” Shere said, her dark eyes going distant for a moment as she thought of all that she had seen in her travels, though her smile never left her lips. “You should consider traveling, at least once. Who knows what interesting things you could see? ...or meet? But I know several interesting tales, both of Egypt and of places beyond, and I shall gladly share them with one who is so eager to listen."

"Oftentimes I feel overwhelmed, with all of these living things surrounding me so openly. It is as if I am standing in the midst of an oasis, and each time I expect to reach the edge, I find something all the more exotic to the Sands," she purred gently. And there it was, the paw-hand that marked his nature. It was not enough coloration to assure her of his bloodline, but that hint of his inhuman nature proved to be...surprisingly evocative. It shouldn't have surprised her, though her mask and her training kept any expression from her face. She knew the power of a simple hint, a teasing flash. The blood-red smile upon her face widened slightly in approval, though, dark eyes returning to his own pale gaze.

"Ah, it has been some time since I have indulged myself in such sweet things, sir Atreju. I thank you for such a kind offer." Idly she wondered if any of the vintages would compare to her father's collection. And if so, if she would be able to convince her erstwhile companion to part with a few bottles for when she returned to Egypt.

[Jenn]

Atreju heard the unspoken remark quite clearly, his whiskered muzzle twitching in amusement beneath the confining smoothness of his mask. He could appreciate her beauty as well as the next man, and in more flowery phrases and romantic gestures than most. Perhaps she would afford him the opportunity a bit later, when they were safely ensconced somewhere more intimately comfortable. He so enjoyed flattering his companions into their passions.

"Over wine, then, I shall watch you weave your tales and perhaps spin a few of my own. The environment is quite conducive to storytelling." His Lady's home, filled with creeping vines and ripening grapes, underground and perfumed with the scents of the earth, would prove an ideal place of seduction. As a Marionette, she might appreciate the intricacies of a courtship more than a crass invitation, for all that the time frame was quite reduced. Regardless, he would have her in his arms before the night was through or he couldn't call himself a proper artist. Seduction was an art like any other, and with the stage so perfectly primed, it awaited only their time and attention.

An oasis? How poetic. Every word from her elegantly painted lips left him more intrigued and 'interested'. It stirred his lust in a slow, languid manner. Would she be so eloquent at the height of passion, or would her words fall away like a veil, rendering her speechless before the power of pure emotion? He was more than eager to find out.

"Follow then, fair lady, and let me welcome you to England... properly." He stopped to sweep her soft human hand in his own plushly furred paw, bringing it beneath the beak of his mask to brush lightly against the lip of his feline tongue.