An Appreciation for History (private)
Ysabel stood beneath the Founder's Tree, where one of her tours both began and ended. Tonight's crowd had been larger than most, a last hurrah for summer, perhaps, as families took that one last vacation before school started again. The tour had taken a little longer than usual. Normally it took her about an hour to bring a crowd through the four historical buildings on the list, answering questions, telling stories, and dropping bits of historical information here and there. As it was drawing closer to Halloween she had added in more elements of the supernatural. The old Courthouse in particular was associated with many ghost stories of wrongfully imprisoned men and women.
The crowd dispersed and she remained to answer any leftover questions. As the last few tourists left she couldn't help but notice one person still remaining, hanging back a little bit. There was no way she could misplace him, not at six thousand feet tall or whatever he was. He'd been so polite during the tour though, always making sure he wasn't blocking anyone's view.
Ysabel gathered up her gown, a recreation of the fashion from the late 1600's. I was made of smoky blue-grey over a rose-colored chemise. It sat just off her shoulders, the bodice tight with a very low waist, the sleeves full and voluminous, three-quarters in length. The elaborate, full skirt was pinned up to reveal and even more elaborate decoration on the chemise. It was one of Ysabel's favorites. While most of the tour guides at the Historical Society stuck to costume clothing, Ysabel's were custom made for her, of course. And each little seeded pearl and gemstone was perfectly real.
Crossing the space to the big man Ysabel dropped a graceful curtsey, not inclining her head but looking up at him instead. "Good evening. Marko, isn't it?"
It was; she remembered the big man from last Christmas although she'd only gotten a decent look at him toward the end of a very awkward ride with a group of werewolves as her sight was returning.
"It's wonderful to see you again."
"American culture is different than the rest of the world. Such a variety of people and things, especially here on the east coat. I enjoy the city, but prefer the comforts of the pack more. There are so many things to see and do - it might be a little too fast paced for me. I like to work with my hands." To prove this he wiggled his fingers. "I'd rather much rebuild an engine than go out to the clubs."
Marko was simple in his pleasures. Enjoyed running the property in his massive wolf form, working on the Piper vehicles, or sitting with a pretty girl. Shrugging, he smiled at Ysabel.
"The city is nice, but it's not Siberia."
She sipped at her drink again. "But you like what you do, yes? So at least it isn't all bad."
There was nothing she could really say that wouldn't sound like she was trying to rail against his race; she would have liked to sympathize further but she knew Marko couldn't go into detail about why he was here, why he couldn't leave, or any of that. She could, however, be a little bit supportive and positive.
"I think I might feel the same way sometimes, but I have managed to bring the things I like to America with me. I love to train horses, so I have some of mine here and they keep me occupied."
She smiled thinking of her animals. Ysabel wasn't generally used to doing menial chores herself but where her horses were concerned she did not mind getting her hands dirty.
"What do you miss most about Siberia? I always understood it to be a remote and lonely place. I never expected to hear someone longing for it."
That should be a safe topic, she hoped. Surely Marko could speak of the home he loved without worrying about crossing the line of what was taboo.
Ysabel loved horses and he could see her dressed in a vintage riding outfit with her blond curls pinned back. He looked at her heart shaped face and had to remind himself that the line between them as man and woman could not be clearer.
"It's been some time since I've been that far north, to be honest. Our family is from there and I have been there, as a kid, but my time as a Piper has been in warmer climate, much further south. Had the opportunity last year to go, but never made it past northern europe." He paused a moment, looking down at his hands. "I miss the cold. Ice packed between your...well, paws. I was a young were at the time, but the freedom of running wild was invigorating. Very spiritual, really."
Shrugging with a wry grin, he looked up at the waiter who came for his mug. "Could I get...do you have snickerdoodles?" The waiter nodded and asked how many. "How big are they?" The waiter held up his hands and held them out to the size of a salad plate. "Could I have...four?"
The waiter chuckled and turned to Ysabel, waiting for any further order from her.
She'd never really given it much thought, but she could only imagine how boring it might be if she never anticipated the cold of winter or the warmth of summer. It was funny, the things you took for granted even after hundreds of years.
When Marko ordered enough cookie to feed, in Ysabel's mind, a small army, she held her fingertips up against her lips to conceal her smile. It would be rude of her not to order something so she did as well, asking the waiter for a strawberry flan. They made little miniature ones, topped with fruit, which she enjoyed. They were very small and that suited her just fine.
"Have you been many places in England?" She asked politely. She was enjoying talking to Marko, even though it was slightly awkward working around the things they couldn't discuss. They were getting the hang of it, though.
Suddenly Marko's pants pocket began to vibrate on his thigh. He jumped slightly at the sensation and blushed. "I'm sorry," he said, pulling his phone out and looking at it. It was Lewis asking him why he was at that particular restaurant. Pushing his lips to the side, he glared at the cell phone. Lewis didn't understand the social limits of appropriate knowledge gathering. Often innocently curious, Lewis did tend to overstep. Marko understood now why it annoyed JT.
Tucking the phone back into his pocket, he opened his mouth to say something else when it vibrated again. With a faint blush, Marko looked up at Ysabel and apologized.
"They're nosy, I do apologize."
Lewis would continue texting him until he replied, so Marko took the opportunity to end his friendly cup of hot chocolate with a pretty girl. The waiter appeared with Ysabel's dessert and his four snickerdoodles. Marko asked for a bag and was promptly given one.
She might be faulty on that score; it had been a very long time and Ysabel had been very young when she belonged to a family of farmers. However she didn't think a little bit of inaccuracy in detail would be noted by Marko.
Their conversation was interrupted not once, but twice by Marko's phone. Ysabel politely ignored it, turning her attention instead to the little dessert she had ordered, which fortunately was very small. They were surely meant to be ordered in threes and fours, but she so rarely ate that the one tiny piece was enough.
She was done with it by the time Marko had put his cookies into the bag provided for him. She stood, smoothing her voluminous skirts, and smiled at him, noting the even while she was standing and he was sitting he was still taller than she.
"I won't keep you," she said, "but I'm very glad you came to see me and I hope you find yourself curious about Nachton's history again."
If Marko had the urge to visit her again he could easily accomplish it by coming to see her at work. Ysabel would be happy to repeat the occasion. Marko was pleasant company.
Standing immediately after she rose, he tucked his cookies into his pocket and offered his arm to her again. "Let me at least walk you back."
Turning back down the street, he kept a slow pace so not to drag Ysabel with his huge steps. His conscience was struggling with him. As much as he knew Ysabel could only ever be a platonic friend, Marko enjoyed her company and found her enchanting. Was that a vampire ability, he wondered? The rustle of her skirt was sending chills down his spine; an odd reaction, really. Everything about her was delicate, demure, and ethereal. Even her scent was mesmerizing.
They made it back to her job and he turned to face her, trying not to stare. With a polite nod, he took Ysabel's hand in his large ones and smiled.
"It was a pleasure, ma'am. It was nice to experience refined culture - it's not often I get to." The Pipers were men, after all. Put a group of them together and they were rather rambunctious, despite the seriousness of their lives.
As they reached the square Ysabel found her small hand captured gently between two giant ones. She turned her head up and smiled at Marko. "I enjoyed your company too, Marko."
In another time, or another place... Ysabel would have enjoyed his company even more. Here and now she loved Amber, but had she met Marko first she could easily imagine spending more time with him. A relationship with a werewolf... well, it was impossible, and that was a shame. Vampires and werewolves could not co-mingle. Friends, though, as long as they could, Ysabel would be happy indeed.
"Any time you like, you know where to find me."
Ysabel worked often, only for a few hours each night, but she enjoyed it so she kept doing it. Marko could find her here almost any time there was a tour. It would be a reasonable excuse for him to come visit for a little while, she thought.
Lifting her hand gently, Marko kissed the back of her hand, letting his lips linger on her skin as if it was her lips. Unconsciously his thumb stroked the soft skin as he inhaled deeply, forever imprinting her scent in his senses - he couldn't place the flower, but it was a medley of subtle fragrances that weirdly enough reminded him of european fields being warmed by the summer sun. It lingered and faded away as he pulled back and released her hand slowly. Taking a step back, Marko nodded meekly and turned to leave. There wasn't much more he could resist right then and leaving was prudent, to say the least.
He pressed his lips to her hand and she smiled at the warmth and the sentiment therein. What a sweet man he was; she didn't like him to be alone. There must be someone for him. Until then she was happy to share his company.
Marko released hr hand and turned to go. Impulsively Ysabel reached out and gently caught up his hand again. She gave a little tug, lifting off her feet as she did. She floated up to his level, skirts lifting around her, and softly pressed her lips to his cheek.
"I'll see you again," she said quietly.
Then, being a little bit dramatic, perhaps, Ysabel faded slowly from sight, becoming ethereal as mist. Like a little ghost she disappeared and left, wafting safely home through Nachton's streets, unworried about being discovered.
((ooc: Ysabel out))
Turning away again, Marko walked down the street toward the strip in search of a cab back to the Den. He tried not to think about Ysabel - how pretty she was, how soft her scent was, and how full of regret he felt. The gentleman in him was quiet as his heart silently broke. With a deep breath, he dug into his pocket and read Lewis' message, replying with his own.
Sure, man. Why are you down in the historical district?
Red will be happy.
((OOC out))