"Meeting of Fire and Ice"
Like the moon hung in the sky, clad in the black shadows of the velvet heavens, she stood silent on the edge of the bay, where more things than water washed in and out each night. Her eyes like twin stars stolen from that same abyss, watched silently over the scene that had exited on her entrance. She hadn't need to see it, to tell from there the four men were down, bleeding, dying and that neither she nor the women who had taken them down cared a cent for those lives that were draining.
The stunning woman was a beacon of light, a fire that rained from the bow of the ship, running a shiver through Casse's system to look on her. A thin stream of smoke wisped from between her lips, as she doused the cigarette between her pointer finger and thumb, letting it then fall from her hand, even though it vanished before touching the earth. This could work to her advantage very well. The woman could be -- would be -- great.
Her steps slow, and the sway of her walk, with the role of her hips, were graceful and silent, with the scent of a dancer and a killer, with a purpose. She stopped at the hiss of the surf, where the water just barely sought out her toes to wash the sand from till she'd step again. Glancing up she could see the bright haired woman above her now, near the bow, not far from her now. Her voice, a soft whisper, was sent through the air by her powers, to reach the woman's ears from where she stood, a siren at the edge of the sea, a walker between the worlds of men.
"Lorania Multivachik."
Malhone had been feeling empty. Enjoying that empty feeling as she let the ashes of the dead men rush up to kiss her cheeks in the winds. Winds that always seemed to have the call of death on them if she was around. her eyes had dulled, but not gone out. The fire would never go out completely, not even in death.
Her head turned with almost a robotic quality as she heard a name whispered on the shores. Not her name, but one directed at her. She could tell by the tone of the soft voice. Not that it affected her much. Nothing ever did. her head turned back to face front as the ship came into dock, and Malhone jumped down with out a sound. Soon she was walking towards the woman.
"Hello, beautiful."
She said with a tone of careless venom. It wasn't a compliment or an insult; it seemed to be a just statement of no feeling. Her jade blue eyes, devoid of care, searched the expression of the woman that she'd remembered in a varied way to being older. She always had a way of being old and looking young, this time is was a fact of being young and looking old.
"Never a hair out of place, but always speckled?" She asked with a forming cat like smile, as a white handkerchief appeared from no one into her left hand. She held it out to the woman with her left hand and pointed to her own cheek, meaning that the woman had a few drops of blood on her.
Malhone stopped looking over the woman who held out the handkerchief. She had called her beautiful in a tone she recognized all to well. Her own. That was the reason for the growl, at least part of it. Growling was also in her nature. Only her bite was much worse then her bark.
"Do I know you?" She asked in that same tone the woman had used on her. Not warm, not cold, not much of anything. Her hair danced about her back as she stared down at the woman. The blue eyes once again lighting with the fires of her rage and hatred.
The growls only made her smile grow. Time only ever changed some, others time didn't know how to touch, because they couldn't be fathom. Such as these two were and would be. She wound the cloth playing with it between her fingers. She didn't care one way or the other if the woman took it, but she only had a few more seconds of that chance nicety anyway.
"You don't know me, yet," the siren said as she stepped back into the surf more, with one foot, still holding the hand with the white cloth out. She was an illusion of bright night, illuminated in moonlight, her mother, her protector, her bane of existence and pain. "But we have something in common."
Malhone took the offered piece of cloth, wiping savagely at her face removing the blood. She did not like this woman's smile, she did not like that fact she seemed to know her so well. For a moment the dark deadly beauty looked to the woman. Something sparked inside. perhaps it was the tone of voice, perhaps it was the fact she seemed so like her self. Not that it mattered one way or another to her.
"Why did you call me that name?"
She raised one hand to barely tap her bottom lip twice looking at the woman curiously and cautiously through silent moments, the only sound the waves pounding the shore restlessly. She was a smart, in charge, very dangerous woman. Not someone she'd have any need to fear, but dangerous none the least. She took her hand away again, studying her.
"How's your -- " the woman stopped letting her same finger tap her temple, as if imply to her mind, and her memory even more.
Malhone scowled. A scowl that would have done not only Logan proud had he been there to see it, but Victor as well. She had no time for this. "I appreciate the cloth....but I think I should be on my way. I have not time for games from you, nor any one else."
Malhone turned her back on the woman, though every sense was on her, every muscle ready for anything.
"If we meet again one day....." She never finished the statement, but then she had no need.
"Blue eyes," she said with a lit that sounded almost perfectly flawless to Irish in dialect. This woman was the most intriguing thing she'd seen in the last few days and could promise a good game where ever she'd be going on to. Now just to find a simple way. "Where are you running to so fast?"
It came then. The quick movement, the knife flying past Casse's head with in centimeters. The woman had missed on purpose. The eyes almost flared out of control. Her hair starting to rise in the heat her body caused. "No one knows that name. I suggest you not repeat it."
Malhone's long legs brought her up to the woman again. She stood so close, never caring about personal space except her own. "And .....I....don't.....run," She bit out quietly.
She let the dagger come near her, keeping her whole body relaxed. To any animal it would seems as if it hadn't even given her a reason to react. Normal breath, normal heart rate. No change anywhere. Her dark eyes never leaving the woman's.
"I know the name." She stated easily raising a hand to the woman's face. Her voice lowers, seeming to become more solid and silky. Her hand gently stopped, like an object softer than silk, satin or velvet, her thumb gently brushing her cheek. "More than it appears you remember, too."
"And if you're not running, then why are you afraid of the name?"
Malhone moved her face away from the woman. "Do not touch me.....ever," She stated softly yet with the same razor edge to it as all her words.
"Now tell me....how do you know so much about me?" She skipped over the fear part. Malhone was scared of nothing.... save herself.
"I read Times." she said with a nonchalant laugh as Kitty stepped away. Her fingers flicked and two cigarettes appear between her pointer finger and middle finger. Pulling one out she offered it to the woman, as she put the other to her lips again. "I'm more than I appear to be. Just like you."
Malhone took the cigarette, letting it sit between her lips as she watched the woman. In a blink of the eye her own cigarette was lit as well. "I am nothing more then what you see. I am merely a shadow, probably much like your self."
"Of course." She said closing her eyes for a moment while the tip of her cigarette began to smolder and then lit perfectly to satisfaction. She let out a small circular spiral breath, and then looked at the woman again. "Shadows are the easiest to spot if your eyes are open." She nodded to the bow.
"But you can't take your eyes off them or," she let her words hangs as she tapped her cigarette to drop ash. "They vanish."
Malhone's lips shifted into what looked like it may have been a smile. Or a grimace. Her own stance turned soft, almost like a lover's as she looked at the woman. "You can never take your eyes away, but that's half the fun."
"'Tis." She nodded in agreement, only letting the woman's loud relaxing change glide over her senses and denied any effect by reaction to show. She stayed her normal all relaxed state, letting the ocean breeze, and spray spritz over her in her leather and silk. With a suddenly shell like mixed expression of innocence and amusement she smiled.
"Seeing as your ship just docked, and your company has no objections," she said with a nod to the bow of the ship, and the four men she'd left behind only minutes ago still. "A drink seems in order. Perhaps tomorrow"
Like the moon hung in the sky, clad in the black shadows of the velvet heavens, she stood silent on the edge of the bay, where more things than water washed in and out each night. Her eyes like twin stars stolen from that same abyss, watched silently over the scene that had exited on her entrance. She hadn't need to see it, to tell from there the four men were down, bleeding, dying and that neither she nor the women who had taken them down cared a cent for those lives that were draining.
The stunning woman was a beacon of light, a fire that rained from the bow of the ship, running a shiver through Casse's system to look on her. A thin stream of smoke wisped from between her lips, as she doused the cigarette between her pointer finger and thumb, letting it then fall from her hand, even though it vanished before touching the earth. This could work to her advantage very well. The woman could be -- would be -- great.
Her steps slow, and the sway of her walk, with the role of her hips, were graceful and silent, with the scent of a dancer and a killer, with a purpose. She stopped at the hiss of the surf, where the water just barely sought out her toes to wash the sand from till she'd step again. Glancing up she could see the bright haired woman above her now, near the bow, not far from her now. Her voice, a soft whisper, was sent through the air by her powers, to reach the woman's ears from where she stood, a siren at the edge of the sea, a walker between the worlds of men.
"Lorania Multivachik."
Malhone had been feeling empty. Enjoying that empty feeling as she let the ashes of the dead men rush up to kiss her cheeks in the winds. Winds that always seemed to have the call of death on them if she was around. her eyes had dulled, but not gone out. The fire would never go out completely, not even in death.
Her head turned with almost a robotic quality as she heard a name whispered on the shores. Not her name, but one directed at her. She could tell by the tone of the soft voice. Not that it affected her much. Nothing ever did. her head turned back to face front as the ship came into dock, and Malhone jumped down with out a sound. Soon she was walking towards the woman.
"Hello, beautiful."
She said with a tone of careless venom. It wasn't a compliment or an insult; it seemed to be a just statement of no feeling. Her jade blue eyes, devoid of care, searched the expression of the woman that she'd remembered in a varied way to being older. She always had a way of being old and looking young, this time is was a fact of being young and looking old.
"Never a hair out of place, but always speckled?" She asked with a forming cat like smile, as a white handkerchief appeared from no one into her left hand. She held it out to the woman with her left hand and pointed to her own cheek, meaning that the woman had a few drops of blood on her.
Malhone stopped looking over the woman who held out the handkerchief. She had called her beautiful in a tone she recognized all to well. Her own. That was the reason for the growl, at least part of it. Growling was also in her nature. Only her bite was much worse then her bark.
"Do I know you?" She asked in that same tone the woman had used on her. Not warm, not cold, not much of anything. Her hair danced about her back as she stared down at the woman. The blue eyes once again lighting with the fires of her rage and hatred.
The growls only made her smile grow. Time only ever changed some, others time didn't know how to touch, because they couldn't be fathom. Such as these two were and would be. She wound the cloth playing with it between her fingers. She didn't care one way or the other if the woman took it, but she only had a few more seconds of that chance nicety anyway.
"You don't know me, yet," the siren said as she stepped back into the surf more, with one foot, still holding the hand with the white cloth out. She was an illusion of bright night, illuminated in moonlight, her mother, her protector, her bane of existence and pain. "But we have something in common."
Malhone took the offered piece of cloth, wiping savagely at her face removing the blood. She did not like this woman's smile, she did not like that fact she seemed to know her so well. For a moment the dark deadly beauty looked to the woman. Something sparked inside. perhaps it was the tone of voice, perhaps it was the fact she seemed so like her self. Not that it mattered one way or another to her.
"Why did you call me that name?"
She raised one hand to barely tap her bottom lip twice looking at the woman curiously and cautiously through silent moments, the only sound the waves pounding the shore restlessly. She was a smart, in charge, very dangerous woman. Not someone she'd have any need to fear, but dangerous none the least. She took her hand away again, studying her.
"How's your -- " the woman stopped letting her same finger tap her temple, as if imply to her mind, and her memory even more.
Malhone scowled. A scowl that would have done not only Logan proud had he been there to see it, but Victor as well. She had no time for this. "I appreciate the cloth....but I think I should be on my way. I have not time for games from you, nor any one else."
Malhone turned her back on the woman, though every sense was on her, every muscle ready for anything.
"If we meet again one day....." She never finished the statement, but then she had no need.
"Blue eyes," she said with a lit that sounded almost perfectly flawless to Irish in dialect. This woman was the most intriguing thing she'd seen in the last few days and could promise a good game where ever she'd be going on to. Now just to find a simple way. "Where are you running to so fast?"
It came then. The quick movement, the knife flying past Casse's head with in centimeters. The woman had missed on purpose. The eyes almost flared out of control. Her hair starting to rise in the heat her body caused. "No one knows that name. I suggest you not repeat it."
Malhone's long legs brought her up to the woman again. She stood so close, never caring about personal space except her own. "And .....I....don't.....run," She bit out quietly.
She let the dagger come near her, keeping her whole body relaxed. To any animal it would seems as if it hadn't even given her a reason to react. Normal breath, normal heart rate. No change anywhere. Her dark eyes never leaving the woman's.
"I know the name." She stated easily raising a hand to the woman's face. Her voice lowers, seeming to become more solid and silky. Her hand gently stopped, like an object softer than silk, satin or velvet, her thumb gently brushing her cheek. "More than it appears you remember, too."
"And if you're not running, then why are you afraid of the name?"
Malhone moved her face away from the woman. "Do not touch me.....ever," She stated softly yet with the same razor edge to it as all her words.
"Now tell me....how do you know so much about me?" She skipped over the fear part. Malhone was scared of nothing.... save herself.
"I read Times." she said with a nonchalant laugh as Kitty stepped away. Her fingers flicked and two cigarettes appear between her pointer finger and middle finger. Pulling one out she offered it to the woman, as she put the other to her lips again. "I'm more than I appear to be. Just like you."
Malhone took the cigarette, letting it sit between her lips as she watched the woman. In a blink of the eye her own cigarette was lit as well. "I am nothing more then what you see. I am merely a shadow, probably much like your self."
"Of course." She said closing her eyes for a moment while the tip of her cigarette began to smolder and then lit perfectly to satisfaction. She let out a small circular spiral breath, and then looked at the woman again. "Shadows are the easiest to spot if your eyes are open." She nodded to the bow.
"But you can't take your eyes off them or," she let her words hangs as she tapped her cigarette to drop ash. "They vanish."
Malhone's lips shifted into what looked like it may have been a smile. Or a grimace. Her own stance turned soft, almost like a lover's as she looked at the woman. "You can never take your eyes away, but that's half the fun."
"'Tis." She nodded in agreement, only letting the woman's loud relaxing change glide over her senses and denied any effect by reaction to show. She stayed her normal all relaxed state, letting the ocean breeze, and spray spritz over her in her leather and silk. With a suddenly shell like mixed expression of innocence and amusement she smiled.
"Seeing as your ship just docked, and your company has no objections," she said with a nod to the bow of the ship, and the four men she'd left behind only minutes ago still. "A drink seems in order. Perhaps tomorrow"
