Forward to the past [Jada]

[Phaedre]

She kissed the flirtatious male, drawing blood from his lips. She’d already bitten his neck and taken from both wrists, and although he was strong and practiced at bloodletting, he stumbled away in a daze. He was willing and had a lust for the experience- willing donors were a new experience for her, but she couldn’t say it wasn’t enticing when laced with desire.


Phaedre wiped a stray droplet of blood from her smirk and slinked away to survey the room. She’d gotten bored of the park and tired of all the dull ritual feedings, of being threatened with piddly spray bottles of holy water, but mostly of being able to actually taste the expectation in their blood. She had a hedonistic nature that was only amplified by boredom, so the Red Room called to her like a siren.

Despite the fact that she’d been back for weeks, her past seemed to have vanished into thin air. She hadn’t seen a single familiar face or heard from anyone. There were plenty of whispers about happenings in the vampire community, but given the state of the city, happening upon a face she knew came as a shock.


She placed her hand on the chest of an approaching male and disappeared into the crowd to get confirmation that she’d seen her. It had been what felt like ages and she didn’t know her well, but just seeing the woman confirmed somewhere in the back of her brain that her previous life was real. Once she was closer, it was clear that she wasn’t a phantom or a product of madness. It was most definitely Jada.

[Jada]

The ancient Druid had made a quick stop at the bar to grab a decanter of her current favored beverage before moving off to a quiet corner. It was fast becoming an almost nightly ritual – people watching and scratching away at her journal as she sipped at a rich and deep bloodied red, spiked with the cloudy contents of an intricately-etched crystal vial. The music thumping in the background should have been a distraction for most, but for Jada it was simply a chaotic backdrop, the better to soothe her usually too-active mind. Between that and rediscovering the art of the written word, always scrawled in her dead native tongue for both nostalgia and privacy in equal measure, and she was mostly quite well able to stay out of the most dangerous recesses her thoughts could go.

This could only be a good thing, she figured. Too much time spent in the shadowy corners of her own head lead to all sorts of things. Some more undoable than others.

Still, the one other thing added to the trifecta of keeping Jada amused and occupied was fewer and farther between than she would have liked – despite her hermit-like, introverted nature, she still did enjoy company. Some closer than others. And a night out amongst other beings didn’t really soothe that specific craving. She had had time to catch up with her beloved progeny, time to catch up with a few specific friends and family members. She often wished for Moirai to return with any semblance of regularity because that alone would fulfill the need for others almost completely on its own. They had perhaps the most… catching up… to do.

The vampire twirled her fountain pen betwixt her fingers as she sat back and took a long sip from her freshly-refilled goblet, considering this. Perhaps it was simply the theme of the current entry that had that need rising within – her history within the City – and all the old names and their faces to match rising in the back of her mind as she wrote. But whatever was starting to prickle at the back of her head, nagging like the sting of nettle, kept her from noticing, at first, the pale countenance that watched her from a little distance away.

At last, the Ancient looked up, feeling those large, dark eyes on her. Her head tipped slightly to one side, cat-like in her curiosity and instant though lazy predation, as she took in the sight of the mildly familiar immortal and, eventually, a brow rose to match before she finally settled on reaching out, telepathically.

”Ahh. Phaedre, is it?”

[Phaedre]

The voice, familiar though it was, had a ring of time to it… something that made Phaedre acutely aware of how little time she’d spent on the planet. It was in-keeping with life’s theme as of late, but it didn’t so much as ruffle a feather today. This time, it was something of a dark little comfort.


She was surprised, however, that she was recognizable. Her time in the city had been spent donning flowing dresses, a demure smile, and a perfect face of makeup. Her ears, neck, wrists, and hands had been adorned with jewellery- whether gifted or purchased- that would make her a walking target for the criminally minded. Now, however, she stood a haunting vision in black by comparison. Her hair was always long and sleek, but her fingers were bare but for the blood stains and she wore the most basic attire. There was a time that missing blush would alarm those around her- it seemed that some saw right past all of that bullshit.


With an amused smirk, she stole a lighter out of some drunk and sweaty human’s pocket and moved closer to Jada, offering a slim black cigarette once within a civil distance.

Given the noise, maintaining telepathic conversation was as sensible as it was preferred. Phaedre valued discretion.


‘Hello Jada… I was beginning to think no one was left.’



Phaedre lit her own cigarette and leaned lightly against an unoccupied chair at Jada’s table, taking a slow drag as she thought over whether this was wise or simply indulgent.


‘Are you well?’


She tried to quell the spring of questions in her mind, her irritation at the changes in the city, and her lack of patience with the human population tapping into the holy water system- but at most, they were kept at a low grumble in the back of her mind and made themselves evident over her delicate features.

[Jada]

The woman’s chin tipped up as she considered those words. No one left, indeed.

”Oh, there are many still around. You simply need to know where to look,” she countered with a slow smile, curiosity still lacing through her, delicate tendrils curling about her mind and, she was certain, her features. Most nights Jada was a steel trap – her mind, her visage, they often took in and considered much. But, almost never did they give much away.

And then there were nights such as these. Where she could not help but wear her thoughts and her varying moods upon her proverbial sleeve. Where even she, stoic and even-keeled on the surface as she was, could be taken by surprise and more than pleased to reward the surpriser with the fullness of whatever mood followed such a revelation.

This night, that didn’t mean death. Not outright, anyway, or even hovering at the edges. No, this night, the woman Jada had met a time or two within the Ferry halls, years ago now, was a tantalizing anomaly. Her dusty memory recalled a great deal of expensive face paint, colorful haute couture, more precious metal and gemstones hanging from her than the proverbial dowager queen. Something was different, though, and as Jada accepted the slender cigarette and lit it with but a whispered word, she settled back further in her seat and gestured vaguely at the one the other immortal leaned against. She wasn’t typically a smoker by nature, but it was rude to turn down an offered one, she always thought, and it was a delightful indulgence on the rare occasion she did.

She had to give a soft chuckle at the next question. Was she well. The right corner of her lips curved up, tucking into a half-smirk, as she had an internal laugh. That quite depended upon whom one asked, or, more accurately, what Phaedre considered to be ‘well’ in the first place. Still, she gave the more polite answer, no matter the urge to be pedantic or, worse, blatantly honest.

”I am, thank you,” she said with a note of acquiescence. Jada eyed her up again with a raised brow, noting the fleeting looks of annoyance and impatience that flickered over her features. ”And yourself? If I might be so… direct… something seems to be on your mind.”

[Phaedre]

Phaedre nodded in thanks and accepted the invitation to sit, setting her tin of cigarettes open on the table- a quiet but obvious invitation to share them.

She was immediately enthralled and she knew this much would be evident. As soon as she left her wall to seek confirmation that the form sitting before her wasn’t a ghost memory, she’d given over to whatever would come that night.

She studied the woman’s expression quietly, relaxing into her seat while mentally mulling over that statement. She’d want to know who was around, but considering their mutual ties to Ferry, she wasn’t sure what would come of knowing. Phaedre was fairly certain, thanks to the resounding silence from all clan members, that her absence hadn’t been an approved one.


‘Interesting… why is everyone hidden away?’



Many aspects of Phaedre had changed, but she was still aware of the habits of ladies. More specifically, the signs of a polite, if not entirely truthful, answer. A grin turned her rosy lips and she took another drag, giving a moment of contemplation to Jada’s directness.



‘Mm…’ She nodded, ‘To be frank, I’m disgusted with the city’s changes. The prey doesn’t fear us anymore and the fact that they all seem to be in possession of holy water baffles me.’ Phaedre paused, flicking the ash from her cigarette into the table’s empty tray. ‘I have no idea what happened, but if I see one more scented spray bottle of holy water, I’m going to start ripping heads off.’



She gave an ‘I’m not kidding’ grin and rounded back to Jada’s polite and veiled response.


‘In that spirit, I don’t think there’s a need to be polite. How are you really doing?’

[Jada]

“Oh, I would not call it hidden away, exactly,” the vampire replied openly, with another soft laugh, her voice as husky-sweet as ever, though low enough to maintain some level of privacy. Telepathy was fine and well for random, short conversation, but if she went on too long, her head would likely begin to ache, and that meant a nasty business all around. Many a massacre had been caused by far less, so it was better for all involved to step away from that particular potential. At least for the present.

“More like… quiet. There has been little reason to mingle, I suppose, and even less to fight.” She shrugged. Once upon a time, that alone would have had the wraith-like woman stirring up trouble, but recent nights had instead simply filled her with a disturbing sense of ennui and introspection.

A wolfish smile crept over her lips before she took a delicate drag from the black cigarette. “I have yet to run into any mortals armed with holy water, with the exception of the paladins that have infiltrated our City limits. But that is an interesting little twist, isn’t it? Someone’s been telling tales to the mice. And I would think, with not much in the way of open battle in the streets or vampires baring their fangs for the hell of it, they’re growing bolder.”

Now that was a revelation. It crossed her mind, briefly, to bring it up to her brother, later on. Perhaps it was something the paladins had introduced to hapless, vulnerable mortals even if the effect was psychological courage at best. Or perhaps one of their own kind had taken the kumbaya mentality just a step or five too far. But it could only backfire, eventually; there were many, like she, who quite enjoyed the fine, lightly stinging spray of a holy water mist.

The smirk that replaced the smile after a beat spoke volumes. The prey were as stupid and gullible as they ever were. That mortals would even think to live within a City such as RavenBlack had more than a time or two made her wonder, in that same way a lioness might wonder at the caribou herd wandering too close to the den. But it was no matter. Vampires would always be the alphas, whether the newest wave were aware of it or not.

She gave an almost dismissive wave of her hand, never one to really discuss her feelings, but she could at least give a vague enough answer that sounded like the final word. “Bored, to be honest. My annoyance with the current state has mellowed a bit, but there is far too much idle time to be found. And you know what they say about idle hands..." The vampire winked, almost conspiratorially.

[Phaedre]

She felt herself getting drawn in- in much the same way as a curious insect would become entangled in a spider’s web. Jada was cheeky, sure, but also dangerous in a way that a fledgling vampire couldn’t fathom. That dark shadowy unknown was captivating and led Phaedre down a path she, headstrong as ever, hadn’t thought she would ever be curious about again. What would it have been like to have a sire like Jada instead of one who treated her like a doll? It was a fitful frustration that had taken her away from the city and despite all that she had experienced and learned, despite having deep roots here, she now felt as misplaced as ever.



Phae put her cigarette out and expelled the last bit of smoke from her lungs before speaking,

“I see… quiet,” pausing, she dampened her lips absently and toyed with the lighter she still held, “I can’t remember when there wasn’t some sort of clan feud. I trust all of the clans are still active?”



Hearing that Jada hadn’t run into a single DIY holy water vampire repellent sent tension up Phaedre’s spine. It wasn’t enough that she had managed to run into several little water wielding idiotic flesh bags, but it seemed that it wasn’t a common occurrence. She was cross for a moment, but the mention of Paladins transformed her crossness into a sharp hunger.

“Paladins? In the city? When did they arrive?” She felt part of the lighter crack, realising she’d had an iron grip on the contraption. She wasn’t honestly certain why paladins excited her so, but decided immediately that she’d hunt them. It would be delightful.



She chuckled at the conspiratorial laugh and sat back in her chair, hooking her heels over the bar on the stool. “I do enjoy being the devil’s plaything… though I am surprised that you find yourself with time to be idle at all. Has our fearless leader quit delegating menial tasks?”

Even she was surprised to note the tint of sarcasm and resentment in her tone. Under previously normal circumstances, she might have apologized and corrected herself… been a lady and asked if another drink was needed instead of commenting on Ferry affairs at all, submitted to whatever oath of polite silence had a stranglehold over her that day, but not tonight. The shift in Phaedre had happened gradually, but it had grown out of its tentative infancy and the rose had finally grown poison thorns.

[Jada]

Jada gave a derisive, though lady-like, snort in response to that. It was currently, after all, one of the biggest factors in the boredom and lack of battling. “There is only a small handful left, with Ferrymen making up the bulk of it. Some upstarts here and there, but they are quickly shut down. It seems mostly made up of allied bloodlines right now.” Her mouth twitched up in the corner in a bit of a resigned smirk. It was all boring news to report, as far as she was concerned, after all.

She watched in idle fascination as the girl opposite her tensed, though what precisely had caused it remained a mystery. And Jada, as ever, was far too self-involved to give it much of a second thought as she took another sip of her bloodied drink after she set the still-burning cigarette carefully down in a nearby marble dish. “They’ve been spotted, and fought, in the last few weeks, perhaps a little longer ago. I lose track of time very easily these nights. Our kind seem wary. I simply see it as them pre-mixing the drinks for us.” Another wink was given as Jada sat back with a slight sigh. “I wish I had better and more interesting things to relate, but this place has been deader than we for some time.”

Another hollow laugh left her lips. “I have not fully returned to the land of the waking… including clan life. The ethers hold me too well at times to be reliable. I spend my awake time of late working on this,” she tapped at the tome spread before her, “and getting reacquainted with matters, things, and… people.” She smirked slightly as she raised a brow at a small ruckus that had broken out across the room. “I must say, they are entertaining from afar, but.” She shrugged, as if to admit she wasn’t quite ready to fully rejoin them, or supposed society. But then, Jada had never been a truly social creature, after all.

"And what about you? What plans have you, now that you've returned to our illustrious piece of dirt?"

[Phaedre]

A small fanged grin turned Phaedre’s lips as she pushed her hair back and to the side, listening to the dry report, a little heartened by the fact that it wasn’t a pleasure to report peace and quiet in the city. “I’m not surprised Ferry is still running… seems to be inordinately determined to ride out every wave.” She paused, absently running her thumb nail along the palm of her opposite hand, a little amused by how dull the city seemed to have become. Paladins were interesting, yes- a bit more than hunters- but she was beginning to wonder if she’d made a mistake returning. Was it a fool’s errand to think that she could find something else here?



Jada’s admission to being rather inactive in the clan brought visible relief to Phaedre’s form. She wasn’t sure why it was such a relief, but she’d write it off as it being less likely to pull judgement from the other. Nodding toward the tome in curiosity, she shifted a little more toward Jada, “What are you writing in that? I…” with another glance at the open page, her brow knit, “which language is that?” Phaedre knew enough about language to recognise most, but this was something completely unrecognisable. Picking up and lighting another cigarette, she wondered just how old Jada was.


She watched the room, the same disturbance that had caught Jada’s attention drawing her in, thinking on how and where to start. After a drag, she tilted her head, considering the other before she began to answer the question posed.

“I suppose to liberate myself,” she chuckled and tapped ash into the tray, “I subscribed to too many social constraints before and wasted a century… so I want to shed the bullshit, quit playing a pawn, and no longer be anyone’s trophy or doll.” She took another drag, the smoke stinging her eyes and causing her to squint, “for some reason, it was important to start here.”

[Jada]

The Ancient had to heft a short, though merry laugh. The cheek. It was utterly refreshing, because Jada wasn’t at all certain the last time she’d ever been asked her age in such a way before.

“Oh my dear,” she tutted with another laugh. “I have found its not considered ill-mannered after the being in question hits around 500 years old,” she said, matter of factly. “After that its more along the lines of ‘You look so good for your age’ or ‘my GODS have you been living in a refrigerator?’” The woman could scarcely hold back the cackle that tried to rise up. “I am nearing my 1620th year, and the language is dead, about as long as me.” She smirked softly, avoiding the question at first, yet fascinated that the girl thought to ask at all. “I suppose, if I had to put a fine point on it, it would be an arcane form of Gaelic, or Manx. Both of which did not survive the modern age, yet converged into the modern form. I am writing my memoir, in such a way that most will not be able to understand.”

She shook her head, unused to sharing so much. Yet something about the girl had her almost… relaxed, open. Feeling free to share all but her innermost thoughts. A brow raised, just so, as she considered. Was the child a witch of sorts, like she? Or just simply innocent, unnervingly able to open even the quietest of minds? It was disturbing, to say the least, and that alone had Jada intrigued.

“Liberation is important. Necessary. I myself have pulled it off a time or two, to my detriment at some times and to others’, in turn. But all change leads us to the present, no?” Her head tiled slightly to one side. “No time is a waste if we learn something from it. We rise, stronger, if we take the lessons time grants to heart.” She considered, eyeing the girl up in just such a way. “So tell me. What have you learned from your wasted century? Why is here such a good place to start?”

[Phaedre]

Phaedre offered a cheeky grin to match her inquisitive nature. At any other point in her life, the question would have had her admonished and directed to mind her manners. She enjoyed that that element of life seemed to be distinctly lacking here- if only for this conversation.

However, if she had felt young before, reflecting on the impossible number of years that Jada had lived and not gone completely feral made Phaedre feel like she was an ill tempered tadpole by comparison. Between the woman’s age and the extraordinary and almost mythical language, she found herself in a state of quiet astonishment.


“To be fair, had you been cryogenically frozen I still wouldn’t have dreamt of guessing that’s your age. I don’t think I’ve met anyone that has been gifted with so much time.”


Phaedre glanced back at the language, looking at it as if it were the formula to the secrets of the universe. “That’s fascinating… to what end? Is there someone who will be able to decipher it?”

Biting down on her bottom lip, worrying it a blush red as she considered her next question, her eyes lit up as her mind trailed to a subject she’d not discussed with many.

“If I may ask, do you know if any traditional alchemy symbols were born from this tongue?”


It was probably the most conversation she’d had with anyone in years that didn’t have to do with trivial bile. Some part of her was alarmed by how comfortable and candid she was allowing herself to be, but it might as well have been locked in a box at the bottom of the sea for Phaedre hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. Generally she knew who was untrustworthy and had a tendency to stay as far as possible from them. That, she had mulled over frequently since her return as she found a very serious reluctance to return to the company of so many she’d once spent time with.


The young vampire considered Jada’s words and questions, her gaze steady on the other while she thought. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that her jaded perspective could be used to debate Jada’s words- if for no other reason than she drew a complete blank when that part of her wanted to answer.

She nursed her cigarette for another moment, giving a human who had become curious about them a raptor like grin.


“I cannot find it within me to disagree with you, Jada” she turned her gaze back to her company, the warding grin morphing into a look of contemplation.


“The lessons have been varied… I learned that compliance is unwise when leadership is flawed… that thinking you love someone doesn’t make an eternal bond suitable… but mostly that if I don’t take control of my life, I’ll always be someone else’s instrument, and in so, disposable.”

She watched the smoke curl from the tip of her cigarette and chuckled darkly before continuing, “I also came to the realisation that I fucking hate being dressed like a walking advertisment for wealth and status.”

[Jada]

Another short laugh left her lips as she took one of the last sips of wine remaining in her cup. “I didn’t choose this path, but I have made the absolute most of what I have been given,” she conceded, her eyes darkening a bit with the slow, ethereal rise of memories at the back of her mind. She settled back in her seat with a light sigh, tucking an errant lock of midnight hair behind her ear. “There are others, many others, who have been around far longer than I have. To some, I am barely a pup.” She flashed a soft grin, wondering what sort of effect that might have on the girl’s incredulity. Perchance she hadn’t asked outright, but the Druid had drawn her own assumptions and was pleased they seemed on target. Her age was not something she often thought about but now, perhaps especially because she’d been in the depths of nightly scrying and diving far into her own head of an evening to dredge up everything she could, the number of years upon her had been more forward within her mind than ever.

Clearly taking advantage of Jada’s oddly talkative mood that evening, that Phaedre would have further questions was all but guaranteed. But to her veiled astonishment and great interest, the Ancient found herself impressed. It wasn’t something trite or silly as she’d come to expect from most, but a question she herself might have thought to ask. “Mmm, in some form, doesn’t everything influence what comes after? This early form… I suppose a mix of early Ogham symbols and early to mid Goidelic phrasing…I no longer recall exactly what it is, to be honest... but it is no different than anything else. However, to some extent, and the short answer, would be yes. The language of my mortal people did influence some of the symbols as they are known today.” She shifted in her seat slightly, crossing one leg over the other. "As for deciphering... that I could not say. Perhaps some of the more learned who researched my people could glean an idea..."

She stubbed out her still-smoldering cigarette rather than taking another drag, and drained her cup. “Well, I may be older than dirt, but there are some valid bits of advice somewhere in there.” A smirk crossed her features as she tapped lightly at her temple with a sharp, manicured nail. She nodded as Phaedre added more. “Those are all filled with truth, the things you have taken away. Above all, no matter who you ever find yourself bound to, as childe or mate, you and only you can one hundred percent ensure you control your fate and fortune. Never leave it all in someone else’s hands.” The smirk turned gleeful; she could relate to the last statement as well. Jada was not known to wear anything less than couture, but it was almost always understated and unless one had a practiced eye, forgettable. All but one jewel was in a safety deposit box; the only one she allowed herself resided on her finger, where it had sat for nearly a decade.

“But isn’t that the best bit about all of this life, all these many years? We have time to build up, tear down, and build again in turn. Otherwise, what the fuck is the point.”

[Phaedre]

Phaedre watched the mist of thought change Jada’s eyes not knowing what it was. Her curiosity piqued at the mention of chosen paths, but for Phae the details in death and turning had been a quietly detaching subject. Her ex-husband hadn’t even known how she’d come to being a vampire, so despite her growing curiosity, she neglected to pick those flowers from the path.

In her time, she’d met a few vampires who claimed to be ancient and sage, but despite their many years, had very little to support or indicate the wealth of time they’d had. There was always a looming focus on coin and status, but that all seemed a bit plebian for those who, by all means, should have had a greater grasp on the important things.

“Perhaps…” she mused, returning the grin, “but do they also honour their origins and possess such depth? The elders I have known… well, you can’t often tell that they’ve lived any longer than I have.”



Very evidently pleased, almost giddy, she soaked up the information. Her previously varied interests had centralised over the years and Jada’s knowledge of ancient language hit on one that involved several prevalent interests. “I have a few tomes that I cannot decipher that prompted the question… some things, I’m certain I could find reference to in my library, but there are a few that remind me of your script.” Offering a warm grin, almost rosy in cheek, she carried on far out of her comfort zone.

“If you’d like to see them, I’d be happy to show you.”



Phaedre watched the other extinguish her cigarette and finish her drink, expecting she was readying herself to leave. They had been occupying the table for quite some time which could be, in another life, a risky move for vampires. With the current state of the city, however, Phaedre wagered that she could sit there for days and no one would pay her any mind. The confirmation from Jada that she’d not just been jaded was oddly comforting. It seemed to settle her. She chuckled and put her cigarette, which had long gone stale, in the ashtray. “Yes, it really is. I’m enjoying this rebuild much more than I anticipated. I wish I had a sire like you in the beginning… and I won’t leave anything in someone else’s hands again. I’ve learned that lesson well.”

[Jada]

Jada cracked a fresh smile at that assessment. “Well, I suppose, with age does not always come maturity or clarity.” She shrugged slightly, shaking her head. “That said, we all have our flaws. Some more apparent and obvious than others, to be sure, and then again, some who are blissfully unaware of what makes them tick.” She breathed out a sigh, thinking back over the aged ones she knew who had little to no substance about them, compared with others who made her feel like a babe in the woods just to be in their presence. It was an interesting juxtaposition, an eternal source of interest.

Phaedre effortlessly guided the conversation back to her old hand and Jada gave a nod of acquiescence. “I should like to come look them over some night, if you don’t mind. It isn’t often works from my age, or near enough to it, are readily come by.”

She sat back, watching the other woman follow suit and put her cigarette down. Though it was her usual haunt, Jada often felt like she simply occupied space at times and was merely a tolerated old relic rather than anything or anyone of interest or concern. It was as convenient as it was, at times, a rather empty thing. She pushed the cup aside with a wave, an unreadable look in her sharp blue gaze as Phaedre spoke of sires.

“I made many mistakes in that regard,” she said with a shake of her head. Not dismissive, but certainly aware of her own shortcomings in such a bond. “So much so, I swore I’d never do it again… until this last year, anyway, when I finally broke down. The reasons remain a mystery, even to myself. I am not an easy person to get along with,” she finally conceded, with a slow, knowing smile. “But I am pleased for you, and for your growth. I sense much potential in you, Phaedre.”

With that, and not wanting to appear rude, Jada stood with a cat-like stretch, and waited a beat before tearing a shred of paper from her journal and scratching out her contact information. “I don’t mean to cut our conversation short, but I must be off to hunt and get home in the dark hours still remaining to us. If you wish to speak more, or if you find yourself in need of a place to stay, my home is your home.” She smiled as she gathered up the tome and the quill and slid both into a leather satchel. “I hope to hear from you soon. Until then.”

And with a mysterious smile, Jada swept into the ethers and disappeared from view.

[Phaedre]

Phaedre listened to Jada admit her siring shortcomings and found it oddly comforting. There were so many she knew who thought themselves perfect sires, infallible in so many aspects. It drew her to the woman more that her ego was not disproportionately out of size. She too, especially in her honest state, was more often than not difficult to get along with, but she was pleased with that. Phaedre knew from her time of being a Liang, a Liang-Dumont, a Liang-Dumont-Cuan, finally a Liang-Daemon, and an incessantly chipper sugar coated delight, that those who were too easy to get along with couldn’t be trusted. She’d been false too many times in the effort of pleasing others.



“I’ve found that to be a requirement for trust.. Not always being easy to get along with,” pausing, she gave her a look that aged her features for a moment as she tried to claw her way out of her past. “Thank you, I do hope to not let the potential dwindle.”



Her fingers curled around the shred of paper, looking stunned as the kind invitation turned into one of open doors. She immediately felt inclined to accept, which she was sure was evident in her smile. “Yes, soon… Thank you, that’s very kind of you, Jada.”



Watching the woman leave, Phae lit another cigarette and lingered at the table, contemplating the encounter she just had while reading the address on the paper. She knew it… she’d spent years feeling like she was meant to be there.