alainn_aislinn: (Not that sort of fairytale)
It had taken some convincing, but Melissa had always been a persuasive girl. Aislinn liked her, wished Devin hadn't been stupid enough to break up with one the Morrigan had taken an interest in. It could have done him good to reconnect with those in Faerie. But he'd been frightened, and he had left, and she had maintained a quasi-friendship with the girl for her own purposes. The gift. The mark. The way her brown eyes saw things.

And now there was this request, and here she was, lingering in a coffee house, sipping a cup of tea and listening to poetry not even a muse could fix, waiting for an alien who didn't believe in fairies. Well, she didn't believe in aliens, but she was willing to trust the girl's judgment, at least as far as being willing to meet this Doctor she was traveling with.

She'd been amused enough to dress for the occasion in the most fairylike garb she could get away with in a human public. Her auburn curls were pulled half back, tumbling down her back and over her shoulders. She let just enough of the glamour slip so that her skin was whiter, eyes greener and tilted just a bit. She left her ears human-looking, but the hint of a point was there. Her dress was dark green and black, velvet and something silk-like. It was a sundress of a sort, clinging to her skin here and there where it should, and flowing free in other places. Her earrings and necklace were delicate jade leaves, carved by the finest dwarven craftsmen.

Sighing, Aislinn tucked a stray strand of hair back and added more cream to her tea, then glanced around, watching the door for someone who looked like an alien. Hopefully the evening wouldn't be boring, at the very least. And if he really was an alien...A calculating look flashed in her eyes.

Well, that could be very interesting, indeed.

OMP: Kiss

Jun. 12th, 2007 01:14 pm
alainn_aislinn: (Toxic love)
It always starts with a kiss. It always ends with one, too, but she tries not to think about that too much. It’s there, though, lingering as she watches him in the pub, eyes dark. He’s different, but that’s all right. So is she. He is not an artist, as such, but there is creative energy in him.

She ponders him, watching his fingers, watching his lips. A mystery, and a riddle and that intrigues her. Little else does these days, so points to him for that. The strange behavior of trusting her, she dismisses with a shrug. Foolish creature, if he thinks she is worthy of it. But then, he seems to think she is something else. Knows her, but not, and she wonders, briefly, what this other her must be like in this other world where things did not go the way they went here. When a kiss was never final, and his life had not sucked into her and where he walked the world instead of only being carried in her memory and soul.

She drinks her Guinness, still staring at the stranger and pondering the name he gave her. Theta Sigma. Greek, but he’s not, and she wonders if the translation is purely accurate. The symbols he traced were not, and for a moment the mystery distracts her from the musician on the stage and her purpose here tonight. She has fed, which gives her time to think, but it all circles back again, and there’s a hunger in her eyes as she watches him that has nothing and everything to do with the look in his eyes when he looks at her.

It always starts with a kiss. She wonders what he will taste like.

ooc: Dark!/Canon!Aislinn freaks me out a little...


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December 2007

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