RP:A Book?

Summary:Brennia runs into a gentleman who may have a key to her past, or book, rather. Turns out not all of the missing volumes of the Smyth family have been lost as previously claimed by Brennia's deceased father.

Don't Talk To Strangers

(room description)

Larket Cemetery

Passing through the gnarled path of the foreboding Eternal Forest you are greeted with the expansive sight of a field of misery. It is a fitting setting for such a morbid scene. An intricately welded iron archway marks the entrance to the final resting place for some of Larket’s bravest citizens and beloved family members. Rich iron letters spelling out Larket Cemetery are stretched out along the archway and the bird of the city, a Lark, flanks the title prominently. Moving through the gates a smooth stone path stretches out over the grounds for the benefit of visiting mourners. The walkway forks to the left where a larger office building sits. Its red oak doors are open wide to let in the sweet scent and smell of fresh, dewy air. Straight ahead rests the gravesites. Markers carved of stone and marble stand in silent reverence for what lies beneath their eternal watch. Closer inspection reveals sentimental words carved into each face along with dates or birth and death. Mothers, fathers, children, and relatives are grouped in small clusters as well. Some sites are littered with poems and flowers from loved ones left behind. Saplings are planted in various spots over the field and adult oaks hang their lazy arms over stretches of stone as if to comfort the patrons of this sorrowful place. Benches have also taken up residence in certain spots so that the weary may take rest beneath the shade of a tree. Another smaller shed on the right bank holds the materials needed by the graveyard staff. At the north end of the cemetery a grey marble path leads to a small clearing set apart from all the rest. Perhaps it is a place reserved for the sturdier figures of Larket.

A intricately welded iron archway and gate is here.

A field of headstones is here.

Joshua was still stalking the streets of Larket, not yet having exhausted the place of sights so for now he remained in this little town, though that should only be for a matter of days more. Rather than become further accustomed to the taverne or zoo, he had gone seeking the snippets of history in the marked graves. A suit of black is what he wears with not a speck of lint upon it, a shirt so white it seems it has never witnessed sin, a tie of red much the colour of his dining habits. With one hand in his pocket he slowly walks the aisles. There is one time stone that causes his journey to stop, an ornate holy carving upon it, large, statuesque and monumental in comparison to the more modest headstones. Turning to face it, his grey eyes hidden in shadow cast by a tree that towers above, silently scanning the words engraved upon it, the very thought that everything the deceased person was, has had to be squeezed into so few words, is unfortunately ironically amusing to the vampire.

Brennia was flying overhead in attempts to find where she had once been, to no avail. Once she considers landing in order to jog her memory of where her friend lives she sees a person in the cemetery , maybe that was her still mourning over her lost ones. Landing in a clear path of the gravestones with much grace and elegance she saunters her way quietly around the memorandums dawning an amused smirk on those plump lips. Brennia's own looks are a bit offsetting, obviously beautiful, but possibly dangerous. She wears something simple and blue with an open back for those massive onyx beauties in which gift her flight, leather leggings, and soft leather boots for the time, her six two height leaving her tall enough without heels. She nears closer to the vampire and upon such a close proximity he might pick up on notes of his most favorite scent emitting rom the Avian; following a soft, but frustrated sigh as this stranger was not who she was looking for.

Joshua lifts his gaze from the etched words when he heard the gentle beat of wings slice through the air, finding the culprit who has joined in him the field of the lost. A small flare of his nostrils as he picks up a scent he is partial too which results in a very subtle clench of his jaw muscles and just the hint of a growl rumbling in his throat. The hand not in his pocket splays his fingers out into a stretch before it curls up into a fist, a mild control exercise for him, enough for the prior reactions to subside. Back in the reigns of his primal instincts, he gives a brief polite smile with a tilt of his head in a nod of greeting and acknowledgement "Grim Reaper or Angel?" are his only words to her before his eyes slip from her face to her arm, catching the markings on them. There is no immediate recognition for them but something slightly familiar, not one that he can put his finger on at this point though.

Brennia had turned to begin sauntering away from the ordinary seeming man, but elongated pointed and pierced ears pick up the sound of a growl while she was attempting to smooth down her long black as night hair. Those massive onyx wings span out an impressive distance while stretching from the long flight, the stranger might catch a closer look at the beautiful well kempt wings in which reflect hues of deep blues and forest greens. Her own deep blue optics inspect the man in an almost perverse nature while her smirk widens revealing perfect pearly whites. "Do you want to find out?" That silky alto voice nearly intoxicating while she notes his gaze spotted her tattoo, it was normal, most men look at the fact she's covered in ink and they cant help but to wonder…. Does it really cover her - entirely? Her wings tuck closely to her curvaceous form while she sauntered a bit closer, bringing that scent near and from his growl she could easily guess what that was. That smirk and a slight narrowing of those large oceanic blue eyes, it was hard for a stranger to tell if she was going to fight them or seduce them.

Joshua was not wondering down the lines of other men, though that at some point might occur but for now the markings are given the same attention as he would a unknown book and trying to value it's worth and rarity. After all, sometimes rarity is only because the book is the opposite of desirable and the publisher should never have put it to print. His gaze lifts to meet her own, his eyes colourless entirely in their grey state and although the smell comes dangerously near, the surprise of it is gone so control is his. His answer delayed in a long silent pause as he gives it serious thought and turns back to the grave stone as if the answer would appear there. He may look like any other mortal man walking down the street in appearance but he is not and the only hint he gives to it is "Well, either way neither of those kind deal with my kind so the answer is irrelevant to me."

Brennia faked a surprised look after shifting all of her hair to one side, revealing the soft part of her dewy caramel complexioned neck, "Your kind?" A tilt of the head given while she tucks that silky hair behind pointed hair, "What could you mean?" She shifts her weight onto one leg causing her hip to poke out and she placed a hand on it. "You mean… You aren't human?" Her free hand lifts to her lips as they offer a soft gasp, it may be obvious now she was being sarcastic, or it may not… Some people don’t pick up on sarcasm. If he is indeed a vampire and she has never seen him, given her time being a drunk in The Hanging Corpse, she concludes he's new to the lands, but silence as she waits for his answer.

Joshua pulls his hand out of his pocket only to pat the back one to check what he seeks is there. A small flat metal tin is procured and flipped open, a cigarillo pulled out and held between his teeth as he finds his lighter. Again as if time is his and solely his to be expendable, he makes her wait for the answer as he lights the end and then offers the tin out to the winged one for her to partake if she will. A puff of smoke leaves his mouth and a quick wink if given her way "I am an atheist." Well it seems he isn't going to be forthcoming and that joke in return is all she will get. The smell of smoke helps drown the faint odour of blood, nicotine addiction for him not an issue but small things like this all help with control, control is what he needs. "So did you get a little over eager with the eye liner on your arms then Miss?" That is probably not the most helpful way to find out the origins of the markings but he does favour the insulting method as information extraction even with its lower success rate.

Brennia wasn't a stranger to smoke, as her vampire partakes in it as well. She even smokes herbs to keep her darkness under control, but she tries to keep it under a minimum as she doesn’t want to ruin her vocal chords for singing. Albeit, she accepts a cigarillo, inspecting it at first for it's quality as she has a bit of an expensive taste in her vices and she eventually places the filter side in a theater length cigarette holder in which she procured from its tucked away place on her ear. She didn't need assistance in lighting it as she hums softly, a sort of bard's spell, which lights the end brilliantly. Taking a hit and allowing the smoke to cloud her face for a moment she looks back at the atheist, "Hm… Not bad." Her brow quirks at his question as she said with exhaustion, "If only." And in that small moment the ink shifts over that dewy caramel skin as if its alive, causing her to pause a moment and take another drag of the cigarillo to also keep herself under control. "Are you vising a beloved one?" She motions to the gravestone behind him.

Joshua rocks back on his polished shoes for a moment, lifting his gaze to the sky as a bird, black as shadow darts across the sky and off into the maze of branches nearby. This vampire maybe adverse to disarray and dirt but he most certainly is not without sin, lies are just the tip of the iceberg. Dropping his gaze to check the inscription again, it seems to fit for what he is about to say, a young woman is buried beneath, mid twenties, no note of husband or children. A nod towards it to direct the winged woman's gaze to it "Fiancé. Wrong time, wrong place." And then turning his head to look at the markings again "They look familiar. Where did you get them done?"

Brennia was not a stranger to death, upon remembering the last one her eyes seem to blacken slowly as if drops of ink darken the deepest oceans. She was quiet for a moment, stoic, but inside she was fighting a battle. She took another drag of the smoke and her eyes turned back to stunning blue. "Ah… Condolences." Her silky voice was void of emotion for him, I mean she doesn’t even know him, but his next question was met with her gaze and another quirk of her brow as the pattern is a unique one, "My homeland, Island Vere… How do they look familiar to you?" If he was a vampire she was slightly afraid he indeed was from her homeland since vampires are slaves there… Or were. Again, her emotions stay hidden under her smirk, but that shame and guilt still gave the ink it's power, continuing to silently fight her battle internally with it.

Joshua lets the ash fall to the floor with a light tap, the wind picking it up and breaking it apart. Slightly apt that ash would sit with the buried. Her condolences aren't needed even if their hollow state as the person buried six feet under the ground is of no importance to him. As she gives hint to the origin, the cigarillo is popped back in his mouth, hand snacking to the back of his neck to slightly squeeze it as a frown takes over his face and a muffled "Hmm." Of thought as he tries to reawaken his memories. They might stir but slumbering they are still. "Not entirely sure. I just think I have seen them before. Perhaps I have, perhaps not. What is your name?"

Brennia chooses to let the ash build on her own cigarillo out of respect for the deceased and observing his callousness which elicits a soft scoff from her; seeing now through his façade but also not caring enough to call him out on it as lies are not something new to her either. Smirking at this stranger seemingly beating himself up, giving a half chuckle. "My name?" She extends a hand for him to either shake her hand or kiss it; maybe even ignore it. "Brennia Smyth de Vere." She leaves the countess part out nowadays since there is no ruler left on the island, there is no family of her's left to claim it. "And you?" Her wings twitch slightly from all the flying, they were restless and this small movement caused on of the feathers to drift off, possibly landing on the ground or maybe the wind carries it off, but what a large quill it was to be lost from those hypnotic-like wings.

Joshua as if habit brushes the palm of his hand against the cloth of his jacket as if the cigarillo left dirt on there that should not be transferred. Turning and taking a hold of the hand offered and his smoke pulled out between his lips with his free hand "Wakefield. A please to meet you." The shake over and he lifts one of his ebony business cards from his jacket pocket, pinched between the sides of his index and middle finger, held out for her to take. 'Mr J. Wakefield' printed upon it with his occupation. A quick glance to the feather dancing in the air as the breeze takes it "It appears you are moulting Ms Smyth de Vere."

Brennia accepted it as only a shake and she gently takes the business card, stealing a moment to read it before saying, "Pleasure to meet you mister J. Wakefield." A soft smirk in the way she is able to twist someone's name on her tongue and make it sound taboo and perverse. Her tattoo ink attempted to snake it's way out and touch the man, but she was quick to pull her hand away, maybe she only noticed, but either way her gesture may have seemed a bit rude. She slipped the card securely between her breasts as her leggings offer no pockets, but she wasn't shameful of this option. Her gaze was taken to the feather drifting away, "It seems. Another will grow in it's place, no worries." She shrugged once more, but secretly thankful that all of the feathers don’t come out at the same time.

Joshua thought he saw movement in the black marks, his predator senses keen to small movements but his mind not so accepting of what he saw. Excuses form in his mind, tiredness, hunger, the annoying nag that keeps on prodding at him to remember where he has seem similar markings, all those reasons are tossed about his mind for reasons why he thought he saw it move. Believing his logic over anything else, he clenches his eyes closed and pinches the bridge of his nose as if this would shake the first from him if that was the cause. A mild warning delivered in a flat tone, perhaps humour, perhaps he is more grave a person than most though his earlier lies would discredit that "Be careful you don't give yourself a paper cut." Taking control of the situation, he clicks his fingers and points down the path of graves as if she were an obedient trained pooch as he turns on his heel and starts a slow meander down to peruse the other graves "Walk with me. Tell me of this Island that shares your name."

Brennia has finished her vice and found a nearby trash receptacle for it missing his internal struggle of how his mind was battling the logic of what he saw. Her attention was given over her shoulder and through black wings, "I'm sure that would be bad news for you more than it would for me." Hinting at the fact she is assuming he's a vampire and glancing up at the darkening skies, wondering only for a moment how he's been out in sunlight all day. Mentally waving the thought away as she's learned from her vampire that they are not all the same these days as they are back home. She laughs at the man, "I have.. 'pets' I wont be commanded as one." There was a lot of suggestion in the way she said 'pets' but regardless she meandered next to him, "I'll let it slide just this once." She winked down, possibly, at him seeing as she is rather tall for a woman. She starts, "The de Vere merely means of Vere, meaning it's where I hail from. It is a rather large island only accessible by Avians as it's in the middle of a vast ocean and becomes visible to those of the Avian race once close enough. Needless to say it's inhabited by only my kind… Mostly." For now she omits the little fact that her homeland acquired vampire slaves at some point. A bit quietly she admits, "My lineage used to lead that island…"

Joshua would dispute Brennia's own logic on who it would be bad news for but whether it is manners or experience, he doesn't air it. After all, arguing with a woman? He might have time as a friend but he knows better than to waste his friend on such a pointless endeavour. Her warning is wholly ignored, he is too firm on his views on what people will and won't do, whether they like it or not people take direction more than they choose to admit or even aware. A quiet and thoughtful "Hmm." leaves him after she explains. Arms tucking behind him, cigarillo dropped to the floor to extinguish by itself and his hand clasping the wrist of the other behind his back. Chin tilted down to look at his feet as he strides forward, the repetitive moves smoothing and focusing. Then as if he had bored of the subject of her homeland, it seems as if he starts a new topic. "A book." Though new topic it is not, it is linked. "That is where I have seem marks similar to your's I believe. I don't suppose you would be kind enough Ms Smyth de Vere to perhaps copy some of your marks to paper for me to compare and be sure?"

Brennia stopped when he said book as if she become as stone as the gravestones around them, "A book?" She was quiet for a moment nearly missing his question. "Do you have any parchment on y-" Her question was cut short as she could practically feel her ink leaving her body this time, and this time it is completely hidden. Her gaze drifts down to her bosom while her hand slowly reaches between them to pull out his business card once more and inspect it. The card is completely covered by the ink from her body taking the shape of all the swirls and shapes it makes atop her caramel skin, she stayed silent even longer as her stare stays on the family crest in the middle; the same one that is half complete on the inner part of her forearm. She gulps hard as her hand lifts to inspect that crest, incomplete without its counterpart which belongs to her deceased brother… Its been some time since she's seen the crest whole this way. Her emotions continue to stay bottled inside while she also wonders what Inky is up to. "Here," she offers his card back to him which is now covered in the Smyth pattern and she couldn't even fake a surprised look as her ink was doing some interesting things already, as it were.

Joshua did not subscribe to the horror of man-bags and neither favoured the casual and unkept look of rucksacks so he would not have been able to help with parchment. Luckily for him, perhaps both, his lack of writing material is not an obstacle to overcome. A loft of his brow as she hands the changed card back to him, taking it back and flipping it over to inspect both sides. Lifting it to his temple to use it as a prop for a salute for the avian, it is then pocketed. "That will do just fine." Then one eighty is done, walking towards the cemetery exit without so much as a farewell, it seems like the man has favoured sating his curiosity over the company of the beauty. Still when he is nearing the exit, the wind carries his words for him as he does not look back "If you want to know the results, you best try to find me in a few days Ms Smyth de Vere." No location given for where he may be for he himself does not yet know but seeing as she has flight on her skill list, her chances of success are higher than most.