Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer here, I wish I owned Slayers and everything with it, but I don't. If I was making money off this, I'd be rich...but I'm not. I'm just a poor college student with too much free time.
Blind Leap of Creativity - Chapter 2
Instinctively Lina turned, shifting to grip her paintbrush like a weapon. It wouldn't stop a serious intruder, but it was all she had at the moment. Bearing her palette like a shield, Lina couldn't help feeling a little silly.
Obviously the man felt the same, when he responded in a sarcastic tone. "What do you plan to do, paint me to death?"
Lina felt her fear drain away, anger quickly taking its place. With a sharp retort on her lips, she finally took a good look at the intruder. At first glance he resembled any of the students from college, or at least his clothing marked him as a student of the arts. He wore a long, button-down shirt, unbuttoned and untucked. The long sleeves were rolled up to mid-forearm, the deep blue a nice contrast to his slightly-tanned skin. He wore a plain white shirt underneath, neatly tucked into a pair of black jeans. The only odd bit was the lack of paint, plaster, or some other material that tended to mark almost every student's wardrobe.
When she noticed his face, she realized that that was hardly the only odd thing about him. Light violet hair framed his face, bangs falling to cover one eye. That startled her at first, but then she remembered how popular odd-color dye jobs were at the moment. His eyes were a standard blue, though the slight romantic side of her would swear they were a shade of blue not found in any normal person. When she finally noticed his ears, she almost dropped her brush and palette. Pointed ears poked through layered hair, and while Lina had heard of a few crazy people getting surgery for that kind of thing, she could tell this guy wasn't the type.
Smirking a bit, the man pushed off from his leaning position against the doorframe. "Are you going to stare all night? Or maybe you plan to attack me, is that it? My, my Lina, no wonder you've never listened to me before."
His smug words reminded her of the situation. Tightening her grip on the paintbrush, she held before her. "I don't know who, or what, you are buddy…but I want you to get the hell out of my house!"
"I really don't understand you humans at times. One moment you're happy I helped you do something, the next you want me gone." He shrugged, slowly approaching her.
"I'm warning you…" Lina growled, backing up until she reached the painting. With no where to go, she started to judge how long it would be before he got within range.
Lina had never considered herself a violent person. Sure she had a temper that would strip paint, and an arm with deadly smacking accuracy, but she had never seriously thought about killing someone. Now, with a strange man herding her into a corner, she wondered how could she not kill him.
Gritting her teeth, Lina forced herself to keep her eyes open. Attacking someone blind wasn't the best idea. As soon as the man stepped within arm's length of her, she struck. Swinging her arm in a wide arc, she drove the paintbrush into the man's leg, stopping only when the brush broke in two.
Expecting a scream of pain, or at least a bit of blood, she was surprised when the man only gave a sigh of annoyance.
"I wish you hadn't done that. You of all people should know how precious a good brush is."
The genuine regret in his voice surprised Lina. She'd never heard of an intruder more concerned with art supplies than with valuables worth stealing. Her surprise was quickly discarded once she noticed the slim bit of wood still stuck in his flesh. Gradually the broken brush was falling through his leg. After a moment he lifted his foot, letting the jagged paintbrush fall to the ground with a soft clacking sound.
"Do you often stab your guests?" The man asked. The smooth phrasing of the sentence just barely kept the words from becoming an insult.
Lina fumed a moment, eyes scanning the room for some convenient object to inflict damage with. Briefly she thought about throwing the palette in her hands, but it was the only shield, be it a flimsy one, between them.
'This man, this intruder, considers himself a guest in my home? What kind of guest enters a house uninvited, then insults their host?' Lina ranted, shooting a death glare at the man. He only gave her a mild smile in response, one far to smug for her taste. 'Even when I attacked him, did he have the decency to stay hurt? No, he most certainly did not!'
"I'll take that silence as a no."
The comment startled her, and Lina looked up just in time to see the man turn away, walking toward the next room. By the same she'd decided to follow, silence suddenly filled the room. A moment later the man reappeared, resuming his former position as if nothing had happened.
"Sorry, I just find it easier to chat without having to talk over music." He shrugged dismissively. "So, shall we continue, or can we sit down and discuss this in a more civil manner?"
"God, do you always annoy the people you intrude upon?" Lina snapped. Unconsciously she threw her hands out then upward. The palette left her grip in a rush, flying straight toward the man. Lina started to wince at the image of splattered paint, but it never came.
"I let you waste the brush, I won't let you waste the paint as well." The man cut in coldly, neatly catching the palette a foot or so from his chest. Gently he placed it on a nearby table, almost as if it were a rare and fragile object.
Lina regarded him silently a moment, then shrugged. Turning, she headed back downstairs, specifically to the kitchen. She wasn't surprised when the man followed her. After reaching the kitchen, he passed her, heading for the dining room. Distantly Lina noted the sound of a chair being pulled out from the table.
'Sitting down to dine with an intruder…I must be crazy.'
A short time late Lina took a seat at the table, setting down a sandwich and a cup of coffee first. Briefly she'd considered a glass of wine, but alcohol might be a risky decision. Coffee would have to due for calming her nerves.
"So…" Lina started. She stopped at the look on the man's face. With a shudder she realized just how much it reminded her of friends that had seen a cigarette while trying to quit. It was a look of longing that only a former addict could sympathize with.
"I don't care how much it hurts, you're not getting my sandwich."
The man blinked, looking up at her in horror. "Your sandwich? You think…gods, I don't want your silly sandwich!" His eyes glazed a moment, and she realized he was looking at her cup of coffee. "Do you happen to have any more of that?"
Lina gestured to the kitchen. "There's a pot on the counter and mugs on the shelf, help yourself."
Five minutes later they were both seated again, though Lina had long finished her sandwich. After letting the man take a sip or two of his coffee, black at that, she started again.
"So…"
"Zelgadis."
She stopped. "What?"
"My name, it's Zelgadis."
"So…Zelgadis, just what are you doing here? It's obvious even to me that you aren't normal. Hell, you might not be human for all I know. Frankly I don't care, which surprises, and slightly scares, me. Right now I care about why you're here, and if you intend to hurt me, though I can't see some violent criminal sitting down for a cup of coffee and a chat."
He set down his cup, looking up and catching her eyes. "I'm not a criminal. I'm here because you needed me. Granted, normally you ignore my advice, but this time you finally listened."
Lina snorted. "I needed you? Geez, that sounds like some bad pickup line."
Zelgadis shot her a dirty look, then continued. "It's my job to offer advise when you need it."
"And just what is your job, pray tell?"
"I'm your creative muse, specialty - painting."
The next day people two blocks over would swear they heard a scream of outrage in the middle of the evening.