RP:I’m Wicked

From HollowWiki

Summary: Irenic and Valrae find out even more about each other and Irenic is reminded of the past.


Three days go by - he didn't say he would write? So, it might be a pleasant surprise when a raven swoops in near Valrae and caws at her. Irenic didn’t want any pirates knowing of her because Irenic and them will probably soon be enemies so the rolled up scroll reads, “To: that Blonde Babe.” In his awful chicken scratch handwriting. Once she unrolls the scroll she would find the words a lot more legible.His left handed writing is just atrocious and the fact he took the time to make it neat shows he cared:

Dear magnifique sorcière,

It’s been a day since I’ve seen you and missing you is a nightmare during the day, but as soon as I sleep I find myself dreaming of you. Don’t wake me up. Thinking on your smile warms me better than a fireplace in the dead of winter.

Okay, that’s really corny, but I wanted to write and say I’m thinking of you.

Yours...
Guy Too Old for You


A few short hours after Irenic's letter reached Valrae, the avian would find one of his own the very next time he reached into his pocket. The envelope was small and lavender scented, sealed with indigo wax and stamped with the outline of a crescent moon. It was addressed in curving letters ‘To An Older Gentleman'.

Hello Love,

Just think of me when you smell the salt of the sea and know I'm envying you.
I keep glancing toward the road as if three days mark the end of a week. I hope you're safe.
I dream of you too. Perhaps our souls meet.
(P.S. I like corny.)

Yours,
Some Blonde


Irenic was in the middle of working on the deck of a ship when he pulled what he thought was his kerchief to wipe his sweat from his brow, wrong pocket, cutesy note. Phaque. Abort! Abort! The smell reached a pirate next to him before he could shove it back in his pocket and damn it all - these guys are reeelentless on Irenic. He’s never gonna live this down, but once he’s alone he was glad he hid the note because it made him grin like a fool. This time she would find his reply when he wrote on the back of her original letter, in that messy chicken scratch.

THE Blonde

What!? Three days isn’t a week? They should change it! <br Where is a good pair of wings when you need them?
I do think of you when I smell nothing but the sea. I think of you when I see the sun glittering off of every peak along the waves in the water as it does your hair.
Every “Land-ho!” Lets me down if you aren’t decorating the shore with your presence.
I’ve never known this feeling and I don’t know what happened between us before, but it must have been intense.

I need to tell you something in person. I’ll be at the greenhouse we never found tomorrow night. Meet me?

Truly Yours,
Ugly Scarred Guy

He folds the letter neatly and puts it back in his pocket - hoping that works.



Orchard

A well preserved sanctuary, this hidden grove is a quiet scene, now. The ground is a scattered mix of grass, sand and soil, but still those rows of tall trees bear an array of succulent fruit at the peak of warmer seasons. A section of the terrain is newly tilled for rows of herbs, both beneficial and poisonous. That slope of land descends out into a cove of sea behind a screen of wild growing eucalyptus, but most noticeable among the plant life is a splash of red - a cherry tree standing solitary in the orchard's center, always in mid-bloom. Beside it is a small rock pond filled with fresh water. Looking through to the smooth, gray bottom will reveal the carving of a thorny, sharp-angled symbol in the stone.

A well attended greenhouse is here.



Irenic made a vigilant task of watching out for land (totally not his job! Lazy bum) over the course of the following twenty four hours till his pirate crew landed back in Rynvale. Again he was trying to wander off by himself, but these guys hoot n’ holler that he’s off to see his ‘lavender dame’. These guys are seriously embarrassing, but to throw them off track he follows them to the barrel and buys them some drinks. If there was such a thing as pocket watches he’d be checking it every minute in worry he’d be late and she might think he stood her up. As soon as the pirates get distracted by a group of women he makes his stick exit and once out of sight, sprints to his destination. All he can think on his way over was, ‘this would be much faster with wings, dammit!’ He reaches the edge of the Orchard and stops a little out of breath with hands in his knees, but spending the past month in a pirate ship, smoking and pretending to drink a lot of rum will do that to you. “Merde, I’m old,” he gasps out while holding his side and wincing before checking behind his path. He attempts to casually enter the Orchard while glancing around to check for Baines until he’s at the greenhouse. He’s gone through great lengths to make sure they are alone here.


Valrae | The witch had slipped into the orchard after opening Irenic's letter and spent most of the early noon under the cherry tree. She chose a spot near the water to spread her blanket and make herself comfortable. For a while, she tried to read the book she brought with her. After she caught herself reading the same passage for a fourth time she shut it and sat it aside with her other things with a dramatic sigh. Valrae walked the length of the orchard twice. She perused the neat rows of herbs and compared them to her own spiraling, enchanted garden. She picked fruit. She walked to the cove behind the eucalyptus and let the ocean water wave over her ankles while watching the setting sun paint the sky orange and pink, then lavender and indigo. When stars starting blinking into the sky she gathered her things and went into the greenhouse. It wasn't until dark settled that she heard any movement beyond her own. She turned away from the pretty rose bush she was inspecting and peeked toward the entrance. "Irenic?" She calls softly.


Irenic was still slightly out of breath and when those mismatched eyes set down at her a devilish grin spread across scarred lips - looking even more out of breath. He slowed his pace until he came up to her and tucked some of that golden hair behind an ear of her’s, “hey, Baines.” The gruff love tone attempts some gentleness laced through it, but it might just sound a bit worse actually. Shouting on a ship will to that. “I’m not too late am I? Those scallywags wouldn’t leave me be,” if she would let him his arms curved down and around her back in one of those amazing tall guy hugs. She may still pick up on her favorite scent coming from the avian, but he’d hoped that the orchard would overpower it because he didn’t want anything altering her judgment. He would then, glance around, taking her hand in his own before they disappear into the greenhouse. It’s a bit warm in there and he slips his light jacket and sweater off to reveal a simple black cotton t shirt underneath. The tattoos seem to come to life in the dim light along tawny forearms and his collarbone area. “Thanks for coming,” he says a bit sheepish before leaning and half sitting on a table with some pots on it…. He doesn’t know where to begin.


Valrae | A single feminine squeal escapes Valrae as Irenic pulls her into a hug. "I missed you," She wraps her own arms around him, breathing in the night and herbs and just a hint of old books and rainy days. "How was it?" She says, pulling back to inspect him. Was he hurt? He seemed even more sun-kissed now. The sea-dog look was really starting to suit him. The witch watched him pull off layers of clothes, the moonlight picking out the lighter tresses that weaved through his dark hair and turning it as silver as starlight. She really just wants to kiss him but something seems different about him. He leans against a table and she just stands in a patch of slanting moon light and wraps her arms around herself. Her hair was free and wild, waving around her face and over her shoulders, dark spun gold in the blue light. She'd worn a dress of midnight blue, the skirt light and long, with a layer of gossamer fabric that was threaded with silver and shone light light over water as she moved. Her shoulders were bare and a little burned from her afternoon in the sun. She wore quartz and agate on long silver chains around her throat. Her eyes were long and wide, absent of the dark kohl she so often painted herself with, and she looked younger and more fragile. "I wouldn't have missed it," She answers, tilting her head curiously, her tone one of confusion. "Is something wrong? What did you need to tell me?"


Irenic just set his gaze on her a long moment and took the sight of her in, all the little details because he wanted to remember her this way; just like a little cinnamon bun (seemingly innocent). “It was lucrative,” he mentions shortly about the trip. “What are you doing all the way over there?” He motions for her to come closer and once she’s close enough he takes hold of her hand again to place a soft kiss on her knuckle. Pulling her even closer through the space between his legs and putting that hand he was holding over his shoulder while both his own find the small of her back. She felt good against him, a cool refreshment to his warm skin, “I’m not exactly sure how to word this or if it’s even worth mentioning, but I have this feeling that I need to come out right and tell you anything that may harm this. Firstly,” onie of his hands slips from the place on her back, smoothing up the curve of her frame until it was gently holding the side of her neck where his thumb could caress her jawline. By now mismatched eyes were looking far into mossy green ones as if they were having some secret conversation of their own and he drew her face close to his. Drinking in her scent while he lays one of those hungry kisses on her lips, ‘how does she always smell so good, like a home, is it my home?’ After a lingering moment he breaks the kiss with that smirk again, “what was I saying, Baines?” He did actually look lost in valrae for a moment, but an ‘ah-ha’ look shifted his features just slightly, “I’m involved in some underground organization.” His voice was low and secretive because he wasn’t supposed to be talking about this, “I need you to know in case anything ever happens to me. When I’m working I’ll have a code name for you so you don’t ever become a target.” He found the hand that had held her at the back of her neck was lowered grasping loosely at a ribbon of hair and running the length of it, slowly. “I’ve killed people, Baines. I’ve tortured people and lied all without remorse. Within this new underground organization my job title is a conman. Winning the trust of people then screwing them over,” he fixes her with a serious look. “You have to tell me now if you want out because I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you, Baines.”


Valrae crosses to Irenic, from light to shadow and back again, with a smile tilting the corners of her tips. She settles into him, arms resting on his shoulders, and laces her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Hmm," His kisses smother her laugh. She feels it all the way to her toes. When they break away she's still smiling.. She can't help it. And suddenly she's laughing again and the way he's looking at her has her feeling a little like she's standing on top of a really tall mountain and waiting for a drop. "Whatever it is-" She starts softly but he remembers and she listens quietly. Her brows tilt up but she says little while he explains. It was funny really, how parallel his life seemed to fall to hers. The witch finds his hand, the one playing with her hair, in one of her own and presses a kiss to his palm. "Conman, huh?" She says, a teasing smile quirking the corner of her mouth. She looks at him through her dark lashes, mischief glinting in the mossy depths of her eyes. "I had no idea I was with a criminal," She puts her arm back over his shoulder and leans back a little again. "If something happens to me it's more likely to have something to do with my own extracurricular activities, Ire." Val sighs. "I'm not a angel... And I'm not helpless either." She gives him a pointed look. "I'm a big girl, one with her own long list of dirty laundry and skeletons in her closet." She looks away from him, lapsing into thoughtful quiet before continuing. "I don't know where all the holes in your memories are but... There are things happening in Larket, things I've been involved in and things I'm trying to stop... All I'm trying to say is, I understand. But I'm not afraid and I'm not running away."


Irenic gently takes hold of her chin and guides her to look back to him. Mischief in his own smirk now, “I know about the unjust going on in Larket, that’s why I stopped working under Josleen. I thought she was going to get to the bottom of what happened with the earthquake, but I didn’t agree with the direction she went. I left without a word… Plus the curse.” He face gets close to Valrae’s again and his expression looks almost suggestive, “so, you’re an evil witch?” A quirk of the brow as he slowly drank her figure in with that mismatched gaze and tucking his lower lip between his imperfect teeth. “Hmm. I thought evil witches were supposed to look haggard,” both of his hands rest on either side of her head while his thumbs gently lay across her throat, not in a harmful way just…. Suggestive, “but you’re a gorgeous witch. I don’t believe you’ve got a drop of evil in you,” his low gruff voice lowers and softens to a near whisper with his lips close to her own in his taunt. A smirk and finally his gaze meets the mossy ones, “you wanna share? Maybe a conman could help you be a naughty witch.”


Valrae's face was suddenly drawn and serious. "No witch caused the earthquake in Larket." Her voice darkens. "What happened was awful and it's hard to cope when things like this happen but sometimes there is no one to blame." She shakes her head and sends golden hair falling into her dark eyes. "The only answer to a tragedy like that is to help the people heal and rebuild. Instead they've spent extravagant coin on mansions and activity centers, gardens, starting a witch hunt and instigating more needless death." The witch huffs a breath. "The natural disaster that came to Larket was nothing compared to the disaster that it is being wrought by way of it's royalty." Valrae feels her frustration stir again but Irenic is close to her, managing to make her smile.. "Oh, I'm wicked," She replies, laughing. "And that is a stereotype created to throw people off," His lips are close enough to brush hers now and she feels desire stir in the pit of her belly. "All the better to jinx you, my dear," Sure, she was mixing a few fairy tales, but it didn't matter. Val moves to close the breath of space between them and kiss him.


Irenic can sense this is a touchy subject for her and he fixes her with a serious look while trying to interject in her small rant, “I know they didn-“ and, “of course there isn-“ He wasn’t really getting any words in edgewise, “all of this is why I le-“ He was grinning at her again, “you get so cute when you are all worked up like th-“ he’s cut off by a kiss and eagerly returns it. After a long moment of wandering hands and hungry kissing her, he gently breaks the kissing to run his hands up into her soft hair and connect their gazes once more, “you seem to have a lot on your mind, care to share the burden?” His lips look a bit swollen and tinged a shade of red already from their passionate lipping. “Jinx me?” His tone darkens slightly, “I would be perfectly fine with whatever you do to me as long as I can be like this with you.” His fingertips were lightly massaging the base of her skull and when he leaned in this time he moved to place a soft kiss on the apple of her cheek.


Valrae, who has finally run out of steam, is suddenly aware that she bulldozed right over all of the conversation and hadn't let Irenic get in a word edgewise. She's looking at him sheepishly now, through her lashes, and giving him an embarrassed smile. He kisses her cheek sweetly. "I'm sorry," She concedes. "Things are..." She hesitates again. There was no doubt in her mind Irenic was someone she could trust. No matter how many political rallies or protests she'd been involved in, anything she told him would fall safe in his hands. What caused her hesitation now was a smaller, more delicate part of her that would always be afraid to seem too... Too much. Too head strong, too dangerous, to political, too zealous, and maybe a little too willing to delve into morally gray areas. If she told him everything, would he still love her? Would he still hold her like this? A memory is replaying in the back of her mind now, though, of the avian before her who had been willing to visit her in prison when the only information he'd been given was that she was arrested for murdering a man in cold blood. Suddenly, the whole truth of her time in Larket is falling from her lips. She tells him of Tychus and the Resistance, of all the rallies and satirical political cartoons and propaganda, the effigies... Lastly, the witch tells him of the curse she cast upon Josleen while she was with child. "I didn't know," She whispers miserably, guilt and shame a heavy burden on her heart and shoulders. "I didn't know and even then that doesn't change it, does it?"


Irenic didn’t pull away, he held onto her and all of her darkness because somehow he still sees a light within her. He shakes his head, “nah, there’s a lot of strange things going on. They cannot continue to place every broken nail or stubbed toe over the heads and burdens of witch doings.” His expression turned to one of impress and admiration, “you’re out there though. Fighting this damn fight. When my memory was jumbled around I actually worked to protect the queen and pulled her away from those burning effigies, but that was you!?” His head tilted up while that silver eye casts down at her in a smug way, “I’m in love with a badass.” He said it, out loud and it was like maybe the second time he’s ever said it after that night he got turned, but he didn’t think anything about it. “Looks like we are both a couple of crooks.” He chuckled softly and tucks some of her hair away from her face and behind an ear. “So… I know it might suck that I don’t remember anything… Would you…” he became a bit sheepish, “if you want, can you tell me about us?”