dancing is a dangerous game {silas}

[Guinivere Marcel]

You're a bandit like me
eyes full of stars

Guinivere opened the back door. She loved it here. Even though the bar was, at midnight, full of fae and mortals alike, it never got as loud as the courts, or anywhere Julius owned. This place almost reminded her of the mortal world, with the music still straining through the decrepit windows. But when she had surveyed the interior and not seen that familiar spark that caught in Silas' eyes, she made her way outside. 

Lanterns hung in a circle, illuminating the packed dirt floor. There were tables out here, but they were even more weathered than the building themselves. No one was here. It was odd, to finally realize she wasn't being watched.

"I thought you might be here." she said smiling slightly. walking towards him. Her dress wasn't something she would wear anywhere else. To impractical for combat, to simple for reveling. Off the shoulder. Even now, she had to remind herself that in the low light no one could see her scars. Even now, she didn't really believe it. 

The bar behind her was all weathered wood and hanging lights. Outside, it really felt like faerie. Lanterns glittering. Stars in her eyes. Something-- someone-- she could never have. She wasn't sure if it feeling more like faerie here should make her more comfortable, but it did. It was familiar. 

She was already taking enough risks today.

@cheshire
Outfit + Music

☽LIA☾ + PUNKI

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[attr="class","ptword"]299 word

[attr="class","ptword"]Guinivere Marcel

[attr="class","ptword"]young Silas :3

[attr="class","thegreattt2"]Dancing is a Dangerous Game

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[attr="class","ptpost"]His mentor had warned him when he'd found out as he always did. Don't get too close. Don't let your emotions take control. But even so, he hadn't stopped him. Frustrating as it was, Silas still couldn't best his teacher. There was no keeping anything from him. Even though he knew everything about Silas, Silas knew nothing about him. In his annoyance, he'd poked and prodded for even a hint of his teacher's secrets but not only did he find nothing, he was caught in the act. The day you find out my secrets is the day I retire from this field, he'd said. His teacher wanted him as his successor and that would happen the day Silas surpassed him, but that was not today.[break][break]

Slipping into the building, he mingled and laughed with strangers turned friends. With a shifting glamor and plenty of drink, they would forget him by the first rays of the morning sun even as Silas remembered every last detail about them. That was how this game always played out. Always but for one. With a final laugh and drink, he slipped outside under the night sky.[break][break]

His demeanor slipped from the party boy to the relaxed charmer. Like a snake shedding his skin, Silas was an actor who could slip from one role to the next. The glitz and glamor of the festivities faded into the background as he leaned against a far table. The slight creak of the door opening drew his eyes to his new visitor, his charming grin slipping into place. Don't let your emotions take control. He wouldn't. He was in control. "You've caught me again." The young broker stood. This meeting wouldn't mean anything. All of this wouldn't become anything. Because he was in control.

[break]

[attr="class","ptquoo]What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?

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[Guinivere Marcel]

You're a bandit like me
eyes full of stars

Guinivere's life was one of uncertainty and risks. One of contradiction. She had played so many different roles in her life that she didn't know who she was anymore. She had never been given the chance to find out.

While she was growing up, her mother would whisper Chinese to her in secret. Her father didn't like them using it in the house. He was from Korea, but he never spoke it to Guinivere. "Learn English," he would say. "Learn Latin. Learn Greek. Why do you need Korean?"

It wasn't until now that Guinivere realized her father was human too, that there was a reason he was like that. That everyone had a reason. She only cared then that she wanted to know Korean to make more friends. She only cared then that he was being controlling, like he had always been. She only cared then because she didn't want him to hit her.

Did she really care what his reasons were?

Some might say he did his best. Guinivere did her best too. It didn't make her more of a person. "Be a blade," she had been told. She had been a blade, a mirror, a poisonous flower. Never a person. And Silas was looking at her like maybe she could be one, or even a fragment of one, and she had to wonder at his reasons.

"I've made it something of a habit." she said. There was something wrong, something stolen about these meetings. Something that set her skin on edge. She couldn't place it. There was nothing wrong about this. Right?

"You're here. Again." He had warned her he might leave at any moment. She might too. They didn't talk much about their respective jobs, but she knew the fae. They dealt in violence like gold. Maybe even more so. "Why do you keep coming back?"

She didn't want to believe-- it wasn't safe to believe-- that he would come back for a mortal girl who forgot who she was or never knew. It wasn't safe to believe that he would come back for a hollow girl with bottle-glass eyes and a photocopy heart. Everything in her was just an imitation of how she could be. Surrounded by fae, and she was the greatest illusionist of all. 

@cheshire
Outfit + Music

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[attr="class","ptword"]185 words

[attr="class","ptword"]Guinivere Marcel

[attr="class","ptword"]words are hard

[attr="class","thegreattt2"]Dancing is a Dangerous Game

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[attr="class","ptpost"]With all the confidence of a fledgling thinking it could fly before it was ready, Silas stepped towards Guinivere. Despite the meeting feeling as it was weighted with the forbidden, neither his smirk or his confidence faltered. "Catching dangerous game is a dangerous habit to have." He would prove his teacher wrong. He was in control of this game.[break][break]

His eyes sparked and swirled with his impish glee. "Who's to say?" It was as if he was circling the person that was Guinvere Marcel. He didn't dare get to close, but he didn't pull away. "Perhaps I've unfinished business." They had no contract between them. He had no obligation to give her any of his time, but he still came anyways. Despite the risks and the warnings, he was here. He could say it was because he thought of Guinvere as someone useful and that it was all for work, but that wasn't the whole truth.[break][break]

"What about you? Why is the lady here?" he mused, a taunt and tease in his eyes. They were both playing this game. No matter what, he wouldn't lose.

[break]

[attr="class","ptquoo]What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?

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[Guinivere Marcel]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Lost"]

[break]

@cheshire

590 Words

Music

Outfit

[break][break]

You're a Bandit like me [break]
Eyes full of stars

[break]

Guinivere watched him move towards her. This wasn't so much a dance as a challenge. It made her think of how mortals couldn't dance with the fae or they would never be able to stop. It made her think of how being mortal made her always want what she couldn't have. [break][break]



This wasn't safe. It was everything Julius wasn't. Birdcage security or freefalling. Her option had never been to fly. She could fall with grace or be imprisoned in luxury, but she was never going to be her own person. Not in this world. [break][break]



Mortal came from mort. Death. Her father wanted her to learn Latin and that was the word she remembered first. The fact that she was born to die. They all were. But the fae weren't. [break][break]



And that was the trouble here. They weren't playing the same game at all. The playing field wasn't level. It never had been. She could have every advantage and still lose. The fae were the embodiments of their land. It wasn't just a home advantage. It was an advantage of essence. [break][break]



She could train and set herself up against every poisoin they could throw at her. She could bury rowan berries into her skin and bather her food in salt. But they would never have to, and that made all the difference. For Guinivere, forgetting was life and death. It wasn't something she would get back up from. [break][break]



"I have plenty of dangerous habits." she said. The lamplights burned down. She really shouldn't stay. "But you know all about those, don't you?" [break][break]



It was a test. She had only one advantage in this game: she could lie. She could lie as much or as little as she liked and he would never know. But she could ask all the questions she wanted, and he would have to give some sort of answer. [break][break]



She already knew enough. How he knew everything about everyone before anyone else. But she wanted to see how deep that knowledge really went. She wanted to see if she had underestimated him. [break][break]



"I get the sense you rarely leave business unfinished." she said. 'My question is what your finished business looks like." For her it was a dead body. But after all, she was born to die. Mortal. It didn't have to be her death.[break][break]



"Why am I in faerie?" It was a simple answer. I got my heart broken. Or she buried it, or lost it, or killed it. It wasn't as simple as something romantic. It was the original heartbreak-- when the one who is supposed to love you doesn't and never did. Not just when you don't have their love, but when you know you should have. When nothing you did would matter. But if she said that, she would have to say that Silas made her feel like she had one again. If she said that, she would have to say that what died never stayed dead and with him, her heart was no exception. [break][break]



Or not. She could lie. [break][break]



She hated that she had to remind herself. She hated that she had to remind herself that she was mortal, that she wasn't like him, that she would never be. She hated that she had to stand here and tell herself that what she felt didn't matter, because she was mortals and mortals wanted what was bad for them. [break][break]



But she just smiled. "Or why am I here? I guess the answer to both is the same. You said it. I have dangerous habits." [break][break]



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[attr="class","thegreattt"]Dancing is a Dangerous Game

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[attr="class","ptword"]280 words

[attr="class","ptword"]Guinivere Marcel

[attr="class","ptword"]notes

[attr="class","ptpost"]His smirking smile left no question on if the fae could be trusted. As dark as a snake and twice as twisted. "Who's to say?" Silas' words slipped out smooth as silk. "Perhaps I do." Even bound by the fae's laws, only a fool would trust him. Never trust a fae, and Silas Avillio exemplified exactly why.[break][break]

"You might find out," he said with a laugh and a trickster's glint in his eyes. He had certainly started quite a few things. They'd all had a purpose, even if that purpose had simply been to entertain the troublesome information broker. Peace was dull. The more chaotic things were, the more fun he had. Seeing the results of what he'd initiated to the end was another story. Once he lost interest, he left the cleanup to the unlucky ones who happened to bear the burden of his whims.[break][break]

Silas' smirk grew and he laughed, "Don't you already know the answer to that, my lady?" Why was any mortal in faerie if not for the whims of the fae, and the wiles of the heart. A misstep that lulled the heart. A promise for something more than the life they had, but it was never a promise one should take. Silas took a step back, "You're asking quite a few questions today." Though he spoke in warning, his eyes invited more.[break][break]

The fae took a step forward, closing the distance, as the tavern's music faintly filled the night. "Tonight is one for celebration," he extended a hand like the noble he once was, "May I have this dance?" As benign as the request appeared, it was anything but coming from a fae.

[break]

[attr="class","ptquoo]What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?

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[Guinivere Marcel]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Lost"]

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@cheshire

383 Words

Music

Outfit

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You're a Bandit like me [break]
Eyes full of stars

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Guinivere took one deep breath. Then another. She told herself that she could stop, that she could turn, that she could leave and that she could go. That there were no deals or promises rooting her to the spot. This was all technically true. But they both knew she wouldn't go anywhere.  [break][break]

"And you aren't giving any answers." Not straight ones, anyway. Did she expect anything else? What he knew or what he didn't was his hand of cards, and he wouldn't show them, not unless he was ready to topple her house of them. "So here we find ourselves, falling into the poor habits of our species." Species. Not races. Blood-wise, she wasn't sure they were even related at all. It was a curious thing. Fae and mortals looked so similar but were so different. Magic worked in mysterious ways. [break][break]

She was trying, even now, to unravel that mystery. To ask questions she shouldn't and pull aside the curtain. The things she knew she wished she didn't. The things she didn't know she hungered for. She wouldn't stop until she was stopped.  [break][break]

She had always been drawn to danger, to heartbreakers and troublemakers. But this was something more. There was something almost familiar about him-- like if she looked close enough, she would find that they were not so different after all. [break][break]

She decided then and there she would not look if he didn't either. She wouldn't ruin herself from hoping that there was a kindred soul out there if they didn't want to be found.  [break][break]

Maybe there were no deals here. But that was a promise, and before her was an offer. [break][break]

"If mortals dance with the fae." she said. "They might never stop." It wasn't a refusal. She took a step closer. It was just a fact. They might have been made of the same substance, but their blood wasn't the same. Born of the land and born to die. Mirror images. Parallels. Lines that would never cross.  [break][break]

She accepted his hand anyway. She didn't expect it to feel so solid and real. She expected it to pass away, into glitter or glamour or smoke. It was there. She was holding it. [break][break]

"Never something for nothing." she said, meeting his gaze. Her eyes shone green. "What's in it for you?" [break][break]


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[attr="class","thegreattt"]Dancing is a Dangerous Game

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[attr="class","ptword"]219 words

[attr="class","ptword"]Guinivere Marcel

[attr="class","ptword"]notes

[attr="class","ptpost"]The smirk on his face was taunting and teasing, "Perhaps it's better if you don't know." Some came seeking information only to find knowing was worse than ignorance. Keep your cards close to your chest. So he did. He couldn't lie, but that didn't mean he had to tell the whole truth. And for this little game, he didn't need to spare a thing. "Though they are not in poor tastes."[break][break]

Silas had no qualms about the fate he was tempting and the trouble he brewed though his teacher would laud it as the foolishness of the young. Until the mire of fate came to swallow him whole, he would play his game any way he wished. "Your actions speak differently." His dance spoke of a refinement dulled by unuse. For a moment, he was, once more, Iscan Volkova. But the moment passed just as quickly to leave only Silas Avillio behind. "I make fine company if I do say so myself."[break][break]

A laugh filled his eyes. "Do you think me so vile?" She wasn't wrong. He never did anything without reason. "Is a dance with a lovely lady not enough?" Though he wouldn't be sharing them tonight. This might have been a game he was still learning to play, but for Silas, it came as easily as breathing.

[break]

[attr="class","ptquoo]What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?

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[Guinivere Marcel]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","Lost"]

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@cheshire

364 Words

Music

Outfit

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You're a Bandit like me [break]
Eyes full of stars

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Guinivere took one step, then another. She knew how to dance. Her mother had taught her. There was so much Julius thought about her, his perceptions of who she was and what she had learned. What he had taught her. What she needed. What she wanted. [break][break]

Not just him. The servants and those who worked with her. Their perceptions of her hung around her like a shroud. Mortal whore. Human blade. A piece of decoration. It was dissolving now, into mist. Maybe it wouldn't last. Radiance never did. This was easy.[break][break]

She shouldn't feel as safe as she did. She shouldn't feel this free. But him touching her didn't feel like manacles. It didn't feel like a condemnation. This felt like absolution. [break][break]

It never did last. [break][break]

She would try to hold on to it. If she couldn't hold on to him, she would hold on to the memories. She would hold on to the freedom. She would hold on to the silence. He was hers to have or lose. Fine. But she wasn't his eithers. For just a moment, she was just a girl, nothing more. Crownless and defenseless, but chainless too. [break][break]

"My actions are never a good tell. Neither are my words." She looked up. "Don't you know to read between the lines?" [break][break]


Here, now, it smelled like flowers. Here, it was quiet. The light burned out. The fireflies were just now waking. Even the flora and fauna seemed subdued. [break][break]

It never did last.[break][break]

"A lovely lady such as myself keeps plenty of fine company, anyway," she said. "Take that as a compliment if you like, but don't ask me if I meant it that way." She could lie, but why would she? They both knew she didn't trust him. She didn't have to. This time, it was all up to her. [break][break]


"There's always an angle with you," she said. "Your species. You, yourself. I'm not so naive as all that, sir." They were mocking that nobles that rejected her and controlled her. They were making their own rules. Everything she had she had taken for herself. Why was this any different? [break][break]

It wasn't different. And it wouldn't last. [break][break]

It never did last. [break][break]





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[attr="class","thegreattt"]Dancing is a Dangerous Game

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[attr="class","ptword"]236 words

[attr="class","ptword"]Guinivere Marcel

[attr="class","ptword"]notes

[attr="class","ptpost"]He took them around the scattered tables and chairs as if they too were dancers. He didn't care much for the act. When it came to grand dances and balls, he much preferred to remain on the sidelines. He was never one to actively participate in these things. But for this one song, he would indulge if only for greater rewards later. But even if it wasn't his first choice, he was skilled enough to pass. This would be his life going forward. Every action but an act.[break][break]

His brow rose at the slight and toothy smile cracked his lips, "Would you believe all of my words?" To trust him was a mistake. To take his words as they were was a fool's right. Even though fae law bound him from telling lies, he still remained a silver-tongued snake.[break][break]

A laugh played in his eyes, "Why I only hear compliments." He pulled them into a dip, "There are only things worth complimenting about me." The arrogance of the young as they say. He'd learned the power of words. Was well acquainted with them. No matter how he was reproached, none of it would reach his core.[break][break]

Silas was not so arrogant as to say he wasn't like the others of his kind. If anything, he was the epitome of it. He'd seen fae at their worst and accepted it without any doubt. "And yet you're here."

[break]

[attr="class","ptquoo]What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?

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[Guinivere Marcel]

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[attr="class","Lost"]

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@cheshire

534 Words

Music

Outfit

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You're a Bandit like me [break]
Eyes full of stars

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Guinivere was trying not to look him in the eyes. Her eyes weren't good liars. The rest of her was. In this world, it had to be. Of course, they both knew how to read between the lines. They knew how to slice the lines open with a letter opener. Knowing how to read between the lines was half of what made this so dangerous. [break][break]

And it was dangerous. And it was tense, and there was so much she wasn't saying, because it was dangerous to want more than this, or to want this at all. He was the worst of every fae. He was every bad intention. He was frank about that, but a truth being terrible didn't make it less true. She still had to fight herself from digging her nails into his arms when he dipped her. She wasn't at all sure he wouldn't drop her in the dirt. She wasn't at all comfortable trusting him, even a little. She desperately wanted to have someone to trust. [break][break]

Silas. The patron saint of broken chains. The irony felt like coals heaped on her head. He wouldn't know about her mortal saints, about the flowers in the church garden, about how her mother seemed haloed in the lamplight. About how she would follow her father to confessional and listen to him speak to the priest and lie and lie and lie.  [break][break]

"I'm here." He said it like she had a choice. No one was forcing her to be here. But there were bigger monsters than what were in this room, in this bar, in this court. And the meanest monsters loved to masquerade as mortals. [break][break]

He wasn't answering any of her questions, and that alone told her enough, because he couldn't lie anyway.  "Is Silas your real name?" she asked. "Since you're avoiding questions, I suppose I can ask anything I like." It wouldn't be his true name. That was a weapon, sure as any blade. It doubtless wouldn't even be close. But was it a name that his parents had given him? Or was it just another farce?
[break][break]


There was too much she wanted to know and not enough time to discover it all. She found herself falling into curiosity with him. She never asked if he had a choice, either. He didn't seem like the kind of man for deals. She would sell her soul to save someone she loved. She had done it before. [break][break]



If she was damned for killing her father, then she would be damned. If she was condemned for letting him live as long as she did, well, she was just a girl. Then again, the Virgin Mary was just a girl. Joan of Arc was just a girl. Everywhere in the world, little girls were hurt again and again and yet the blood was always painted on their hands. Maybe her father should have been condemned for letting her live. Maybe her father shouldn't have raised a murderess and been surprised when he was at the end of her knife. [break][break]



She was desperate then. She wanted to believe she wasn't so desperate now. Luckily for her, she could lie and lie as much as she wanted. [break][break]

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