Jahi

 
There was a comfort to be found by the sea. The tides rocked without reason or rhyme, only a steady beat that allowed a consistency long lost to his life. In truth, the last time he had true order or even the semblance of it had probably been before he could rightly remember. The fear and desolation of his family's mad run from Crue Efros was tainted and warped with the fresh onslaught of emotions and dangers that as a spoiled child he'd never once come to be exposed to. Never in his youth had he to wonder about food, when his next meal would be. Never did he have to ponder if they would have the glisten of coin to procure him clothes with which not to freeze during the long winter months. That in its own right smacked of naivety. It had made him seem far more pompous than he truly was. His recollections of those young days had faded to make room for newer ones. For disdain. For resentment. For the quiet thirst in the back of his mind for revenge.

In truth, those thoughts had been stoked like flames in more recent days. Not against the original people who had done it - not exactly anyways - but more for the undead. For the old relatives that turned their backs on their purpose to bury their heads in gold like an ostrich would the sand. If they had simply kept up with their duties, perhaps Émilienne Kaplan would have never been. Or perhaps she would simply be locked in a tomb somewhere, ashes, as she should be. His father would have known how to fight them, he wouldn't have grown soft and would have had the strength he needed. He would have still been alive. His mother wouldn't have had to remarry. He wouldn't be a 'bastard' now.

The thoughts soured.
He frowned.
And in his drunken stupor he was glad he'd recently pissed on their front doorstep.

Foggy glare softened vaguely as he observed the rippling surface of the calm waves, completely unaware of the stranger on the nearby sands. He supposed it was time to sober up some, he'd most likely be heading out in a few hours and he certainly didn't want to be chased by the lingering pressure of a hangover. So it was he'd waded out knee deep into the water, ignoring it sloshing and swirling within his boots and tugging against the legs of his pants. Ungracefully, he would faceplant into the coming wave, allowing the striking cold to shock his thoughts into something of coherency.

As he resurfaced, gaze slightly more clear would sway around his surroundings, hands running over his face, freezing midway as he finally noted the others presence. Eyes remained, lilting over the exposed skin and various markings outlined and illuminated by the silvery hues of the moon. "Oh - uh - hey." The words were somewhat awkward, tinged with surprise as he rose one hand in greeting.

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“Hey.” Her vocals reached him over the dull, monotonous tones of the ocean waters, the tides reaching, brushing over the breadth of his calves. The rhythmic lull pressed and pulled against the tops of his boots, a feat he would loathe come the morning, along with the pounding that was sure to possess his temples with an unholy fury, but for the time being, in this moment of whimsical disregard, it was almost a comfort. The unruly, coiling strands of crimson were slowly pushed from his striking gaze before both hands would rest on his hips, a twisted smile curling his lips in playful rue. “You swim faster without clothes, on if you're going for a swim.” Her words, or perhaps a warning was met by the soft husk of a boyish laugh. "Oh, it doesn't matter if I'm swimming fast or not, does it?" The words were purred, teasing, slightly slurred.

He licked his lips, wetting them against the saline of the ocean. Sobering. Bittersweet like the sweets the shops of Kaiser sold. Ones he used to pine for as a poor boy homed in the barracks. Such a trivial delight that felt like the greatest of indulgences when he gained those few glittering coins to dirty, calloused palms. Ones he still enjoyed, but far less than those tender days of naivety. While his mother and half sibling indulged in a life of ease, that cheap, simple thing had been a luxury to him. A sourness that had tinged the candy over the years. A slow poison he still partook of just to remind himself of the way it felt. The sea was much the same: a dark and tempting option for the unwanted. A simple, beautiful way to just d i s a p p e a r.

Despite the malignant thoughts, that jackal grin of frivolous cheerfulness did not fail. "I'm not tryin' to get away from nothin'." Not anymore, at least. "'Sides, they probably needed a good wash anyways."

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She didn't seem in a hurry to redress, a comfort to her movements, but not slow and deliberate. Not teasing, but placated. She was either far more dangerous than she would appear at a mere glance, or perhaps she was too trusting of the nature of the one she found herself before. Maybe it was the thought that he was slow, that the ocean would put distance between the two of them should he show signs of aggression. She wasn't vampiric, the medallion tucked safely against his chest whispered as much to him. In its silence, it reassured that she wasn't of the undead, the lack of wistful humming all the prelude he needed. A wolf then, perchance.  “You almost sound sober.” he allowed a slight chuckle to pull from his lips as he offered a slight, lazy shrug to roll his shoulders. His musings ground to a halt, a haze through the intoxication and the disinterest in unraveling the tales of who or what she was. Wayward and naïve. Strong and confident. It mattered little to him, in the end. "What can I say? I've had plenty of practice."

He found himself wanting to simply fall back into the cadence of the tide rising around him. To drift along the gentle hum of the waves and let them carry him to wherever the sea deemed most fit. An idle inclination that common sense begged him to think twice about. That voice of reason was becoming clearer, and if the steady pulse he could feel in his temples now told him anything, it was that his round of drinks was beginning to wear off far sooner than he'd hoped or planned. “Though the ocean does leave a welcoming scent to ones clothes, I suppose.” So she liked the salt spray, hm? Maybe she came down to this section of beach often under the moonlight. There was a chance that she had even made her main stay somewhere nearby. His father had told him once upon a time that the sea stirred two very different feelings within people: comfort or fear. Just like he, she seemed to be of the former variety. "Come down here often then? Water a friend of yours?" The askance was innocent enough as he idly watched her, his head tilting slightly as his fingers curled into a fist to prop his chin on. Lips forming almost a slight pout, though it was light in nature. "Live around here? Or, well, Kaiser, I guess? Been there awhile now, but I don't ever 'member seein' you around."


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“I’d like to think so.” He listened as she spoke, her soft smile pulling across her lips in reverence to an old acquaintance. “I come down here as often as I can though. It’s nice to get away from the monotony of the every-day.” He nodded his agreement. He agreed with the sentiment. Entirely, whole-heartedly. She finished redressing herself, but instead of just leaving, she shifted her weight to settle in a sit within the sands, those absent now the warmth of the sun, dark and swirling with the brush of moisture and the silvery splendor of the moon's cool illumination. “It’s a nice escape, the water simply listens and never judges, I guess.” Another slight bob of his head. A simple understanding they had, but she waved her hand as if to dismiss the subject, another thing he was content to just let be.

Instead, she continued with his last inquiry. “I run a shop in Kaiser.” That was a bit of a surprise, though, he had to admit that the only shops he visited were often those that sold alcohol of some level. After a job well done (especially if it paid well at that) he would often times 'treat' himself to a nice dinner at the local tavern. His favorite was the one that served the honey cinnamon mead, a taste that almost had him drooling at its recollection. How long had it been since he'd had some of it? Too long, he'd wager, though, again, it was always too long in his earnest opinion. “I sell meats and hides and some little odds and end trinkets, could come by sometime if you want.” A thoughtful hum departed him at that. "Do you do the hunting yourself?" he inquired. Curious to know how much of the wilds she had personally explored. Perhaps stumbled upon an interesting rumor or two in her time abroad. Work. Work for honey cinnamon mead.

“I live in a cottage along the outskirts of the wilds, not a far travel to Kaiser.” A cottage in the woods did sound like it  had its charms. A cozy, quiet place that many of his kindred would now live in fear of. Cattle, sheep corralled and housed within the protection of walls that now made them feel safe from the proverbial wolves outside. Sheltered by the true ones that surrounded them. The very same mentality that had made them feel far too comfortable in Crue Efros. “What about you?” He shrugged slightly in answer to begin with before explanation found him. "I don't have a place. I travel too much. Work takes me between nations, but I'd say Kaiser is the closest thing to a home I have. Allllways find myself findin' my way back here." His fingers interlaced behind his head, stretching slightly. "Name's Lif, by the way."


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