"Is it so? I'm sure I never even noticed with how busy I am and all," Casse said quietly as her eyes focused on a silver-white barrette with her small tiny silver pin, a magnifying glass above it helping her to work. So she plinked along reverently trying to ignore his ever-present presence of the moment.
"Ye're a bad liar."
Casse raised a delicate eyebrow though she didn't look up till a second at him pulling the pin away from her Silver Post. She glanced at with an expression that came out exactly how she wanted it, innocently sweet and teasing curios, her voice soft as a breeze.
"'Tis the pot calling the kettle black?"
She laughed softly as she watched his reaction even his eyes alone as she leaned back in the chair a second still holding the other things. "So, tell me then, what did you come for, besides to show dismay for my attempts of deceit? I have no doubt it was not for a goodbye."
"It's a private jet, chere. Ya've got nothing holdin' ya' here, ya' could go home, to friend and fam-"
Her eyes darkened almost too suddenly to a shade of blue near midnight, a shocking thing to see when they had been a light airy almost cyan seconds ago now. They narrowed slowly on him, almost like a cat ready to pounce, full of anger or hate, her voice reflecting it evenly.
"That is not my home, and none of them is friend or family. Not now, not ever."
She didn't even glance at him as she distracted herself from letting the consequence of her creeping temper come to view at the moment.
"So not there, the heart knows where de home is, so where would ye go???"
Casse shrugged slightly, an oddly graceful movement from a seemingly almost wounded creature from the way the light reflected in her eyes at the second.
"I don't have a heart. I seem to remember a bomb tore it apart, and then time and the wind stole those few pieces from me."
"Quite cynical view, almost like your dad, what happened to your de little dreamer ye're mother raised, Casse? What happened to dat little girl who watched de stars saying she had great places to see and great things to do-"
He didn't finish as the pin in Casse's hand had sliced straight into the magnifying glass during his words, too much like a knife through butter, thought still a third away from the butterfly under it. He'd touched it, the one subject that cut to the heart of it all. Slowly, like pond ice with too much weight on it, cracks went out from the center where her pin still rested, chasing faster till it reached the end and then it exploded.
Shard of magnifying glass ricocheted onto the skin uncover on her upper torso and her lower arms, and she looked at it a second almost detachedly as small spots of red appeared against her skin as she looked up at him. Her eyes were dangerous. Far more dangerous than any of her past opponents had ever seen, as this was something that left it's cut's in her heart. One that had teeth and that had sunk them in to never remove them from her. Her voice came out rigidly icy as she thought only a bare second on his words.
"She, like all good frost bitten flowers and children, conceded and then did die. And it's not Casse, she is long gone. You have no permission."
"Ye're mother named ya' it so the world would call ya' it. Seems a likely enough permission, chere."
"Casse is gone…they've given me another title here even. No longer even Riven, it's SpellSong…" she seemed wistful a second before her expression tightened and she looked at him again. "Your plane is leaving soon, so go."
He was quiet silent, remaining still present at the door, as he had turned to go. In some ways he was wiser than, but as he turned towards her again, she realized in the same perspective he was also just like the rest of them. Her eyes regard him a second longer.
"A problem, Mr. Lebeau? Does it trouble you to leave a person you still view as a child helpless to those who made you what you are today?"
He didn't wince, but she noted a change beyond almost recognition a second in his expression as if half in half she could have been right and in other she was completely wrong as he stayed there silent almost in defiance of her own words.
"Worried, perhaps?"
"Chere, would be a straight out lie ta say, as one of de nonexistent friends and family of your past, dat after 4 years of you without a trace, not knowing if your were dead or out making-"
"Making a living by any means possible?" she said with a cat like smirk.
"Dat's not de point, Casse." For some fact he must have been bewildered she thought for such thoughts probably ran through his head to what happened to bring this person who sat before him for the courageously brave and intently curios gentle, thrill seeking nine year old he'd taught to ride a motorcycle on the front steps against her father's wishes.
"Of course it's the point. I am out here and I am living, and you with your doubts and your fears for me, as someone's -as your friends little helpless lost- child, as someone I haven't been in ages, wish me to push aside, so I can go running back to a place I hate. Hate. Hate, you hear me?"
"Come to Paris." He said simply -perhaps he had been and hadn't been listening all at one- and she stared at him as if he might have been insane. The others would kill her, and for a second as she looked up at him, she began to wonder if that mattered.
"Ye're a bad liar."
Casse raised a delicate eyebrow though she didn't look up till a second at him pulling the pin away from her Silver Post. She glanced at with an expression that came out exactly how she wanted it, innocently sweet and teasing curios, her voice soft as a breeze.
"'Tis the pot calling the kettle black?"
She laughed softly as she watched his reaction even his eyes alone as she leaned back in the chair a second still holding the other things. "So, tell me then, what did you come for, besides to show dismay for my attempts of deceit? I have no doubt it was not for a goodbye."
"It's a private jet, chere. Ya've got nothing holdin' ya' here, ya' could go home, to friend and fam-"
Her eyes darkened almost too suddenly to a shade of blue near midnight, a shocking thing to see when they had been a light airy almost cyan seconds ago now. They narrowed slowly on him, almost like a cat ready to pounce, full of anger or hate, her voice reflecting it evenly.
"That is not my home, and none of them is friend or family. Not now, not ever."
She didn't even glance at him as she distracted herself from letting the consequence of her creeping temper come to view at the moment.
"So not there, the heart knows where de home is, so where would ye go???"
Casse shrugged slightly, an oddly graceful movement from a seemingly almost wounded creature from the way the light reflected in her eyes at the second.
"I don't have a heart. I seem to remember a bomb tore it apart, and then time and the wind stole those few pieces from me."
"Quite cynical view, almost like your dad, what happened to your de little dreamer ye're mother raised, Casse? What happened to dat little girl who watched de stars saying she had great places to see and great things to do-"
He didn't finish as the pin in Casse's hand had sliced straight into the magnifying glass during his words, too much like a knife through butter, thought still a third away from the butterfly under it. He'd touched it, the one subject that cut to the heart of it all. Slowly, like pond ice with too much weight on it, cracks went out from the center where her pin still rested, chasing faster till it reached the end and then it exploded.
Shard of magnifying glass ricocheted onto the skin uncover on her upper torso and her lower arms, and she looked at it a second almost detachedly as small spots of red appeared against her skin as she looked up at him. Her eyes were dangerous. Far more dangerous than any of her past opponents had ever seen, as this was something that left it's cut's in her heart. One that had teeth and that had sunk them in to never remove them from her. Her voice came out rigidly icy as she thought only a bare second on his words.
"She, like all good frost bitten flowers and children, conceded and then did die. And it's not Casse, she is long gone. You have no permission."
"Ye're mother named ya' it so the world would call ya' it. Seems a likely enough permission, chere."
"Casse is gone…they've given me another title here even. No longer even Riven, it's SpellSong…" she seemed wistful a second before her expression tightened and she looked at him again. "Your plane is leaving soon, so go."
He was quiet silent, remaining still present at the door, as he had turned to go. In some ways he was wiser than, but as he turned towards her again, she realized in the same perspective he was also just like the rest of them. Her eyes regard him a second longer.
"A problem, Mr. Lebeau? Does it trouble you to leave a person you still view as a child helpless to those who made you what you are today?"
He didn't wince, but she noted a change beyond almost recognition a second in his expression as if half in half she could have been right and in other she was completely wrong as he stayed there silent almost in defiance of her own words.
"Worried, perhaps?"
"Chere, would be a straight out lie ta say, as one of de nonexistent friends and family of your past, dat after 4 years of you without a trace, not knowing if your were dead or out making-"
"Making a living by any means possible?" she said with a cat like smirk.
"Dat's not de point, Casse." For some fact he must have been bewildered she thought for such thoughts probably ran through his head to what happened to bring this person who sat before him for the courageously brave and intently curios gentle, thrill seeking nine year old he'd taught to ride a motorcycle on the front steps against her father's wishes.
"Of course it's the point. I am out here and I am living, and you with your doubts and your fears for me, as someone's -as your friends little helpless lost- child, as someone I haven't been in ages, wish me to push aside, so I can go running back to a place I hate. Hate. Hate, you hear me?"
"Come to Paris." He said simply -perhaps he had been and hadn't been listening all at one- and she stared at him as if he might have been insane. The others would kill her, and for a second as she looked up at him, she began to wonder if that mattered.
