Night Scents

It had to be done, sooner or later, he knew. And the sooner it was, the sooner he would be able to put it out of his mind. He was aware that some further complications would arise from it, without a doubt, but... at least they would be fresh ones. And not those that have been brewing and stewing ever since his unfortunate return and were beginning to reek.

Richard had tried to convince himself that it would be the best and most polite to meet her in her office. Properly. Formally. But all arguments fell on deaf ears, as the prospect of talking to Kale was stressful enough without it happening in an office again. The idea made him feel like a rat chased into a corner. Again. He needed to have the open sky above his head and fresh, cool air that made it slightly easier to think. And so, he slipped a simple note into her office.

"If it please you, meet me next to the juniper tree tomorrow around 10 P.M. I will be very grateful. -R"

He hoped she would oblige... but even if she decided not to turn up, he would have a pleasant evening.

A bit early, he went straight for the benches, intending to sit down there and not get up unless he had to. Before he neared them, though, a sweet scent had drawn him off the path. Was that...? Yes, it was, he thought as he approached a bed of yellow and purple star-shaped flowers. Flowering tobacco. One of his favorites. He stopped for a moment, taking in the scent and sight. From how unevenly they were growing, spilling out of the flowerbed, he could tell that they had simply reseeded rather than being planted this year. The gardens were in a shameful state. Honestly, there were bigger fish to fry... but... it could be a pleasant little hobby. He could make a part of the garden his own - unassuming during the day, and at night, the most marvelous explosion of beauty and fragrance. Just for him. Just like back then.

Distracted by the thought, smiling a bit stupidly, Richard went off deeper into the bushes. He was pretty sure he could smell night-scented stock there, somewhere...

She had seen it coming. How could she not? They had to talk sometime if they were to both live and work here. Of course, she had more expected it to be just that: work and passing, brief encounters by happenstance of residing in the same castle. She held no love for the man and was fairly certain that he held none for her. So, the little note was both unwelcome and irritatingly intriguing. Much like the rest of him.

And so, with note left folded on her desk, at 9:59pm, she dropped from the balcony of her stolen rooms. Silently gliding an easy current, she landed softly just at the base of large courtyard juniper tree. She adjusted her skirt and jacket, straightening her posture. A quick glance around did not reveal Richard to her in the immediate area and she had no interest in going in search of him. Really, what was she even doing here? She wouldn't have come if it were not part of her job and responsibility to tend to the people who worked here. Though, really, she should make him make an appointment... She just might, actually.

Walking up to the tree, the harpy looked up at its size. It really was quite impressive, actually. Turning, she started a slow pace around it. Even with the way that the courtyard was still overgrowing, this monstrous thing still stood giant over everything else. Once she had found a suitable spot, Kale lightly dusted off the bench and seated herself angled slightly sideways with legs crossed with skirt and feathers smoothed underneath. She sat very still with hands folded on her lap, looking up through the branches into the sky.

Breathing in, Kale tried to feel that storm around her. The night was still even with the breeze of the ocean, lightly scented and salty. Things rustled about, and she thought she could hear residents about somewhere.

If nothing else, it was nice to be out of her office.

The courtyard was huge, overgrown with thick shrubbery that had clearly not been tended to for decades. Weeds were aplenty and finding any paths that could have once existed was mere guesswork. Richard didn't like to but had to admit that if not for the huge tree serving as a point of reference he would quite possibly have gotten lost. He did get a little lost in time, nonetheless, tracking patches of flowers by their scent, squatting down to inspect them and pluck a few to put in his room. It was surprisingly delightful.

And as the bouquet of flowers in his arms grew bigger and bigger, he got his reason for being in the courtyard in the first place lost as well.

Only once he had too many to hold did he decide to leave and get them all into vases. Not sure what direction was the exit, he headed for the juniper tree first to find his way from it... and only as he saw the cream wings did he remember. Right. How could he... never mind. A desire to flee passed through his head, but there was no fleeing this, now. Taking a deep breath, full of the sweet fragrance of night-stock, he walked up to where the harpy was seated. Then, without much thought, he did the first thing that came to his mind -- plucked a blue-white iris flower from the bigger bunch he was holding and offered it to her, along with a crooked grin.

"For turning up."

Even as she got the feeling of someone approaching, the harpy did not move immediately. It was as the vampire stopped beside her that she lowered her gaze from the branches above and looked at him evenly. It was brief, because her eye refocused on the offered flower.

Without a word, her hand came up to delicately grab the stem above where his own hold was. She looked at it with some interest. How long had she been sitting here, she wasn't rightly sure. Her gaze turned back to him.

"Yes...well, of course. But thank you." Kale looked around them briefly before looking back to him - where had he rummaged to get these flowers, she wondered. "Enjoying the Magnoliophyta, I see."

He bowed slightly as she took the flower. It seemed that he was not too late, or else she was not showing any signs of annoyance. Honestly, it could be both. Richard cleared his throat and readjusted his hold on the flowers. "Indeed, I do love them. I found some tobacco, gerberas, night-scented stock, even freesia... As well as a selection of plants not flowering right now. Whoever planted this garden knew what they were doing."

Looking away, he made towards the bench and sat down carefully, slowly, at a polite distance. His back was straight and general posture stiff. The moisture on his legs from where he'd knelt down to some small foliage was beginning to seep through his jeans and felt cold on his skin. What was he even supposed to say? He'd planned a dozen different ways to start, but when it finally came to it, his mind was blank. This kind of a situation was just not supposed to happen.

"How have you been?" he quietly asked the flowers in his lap.

Her head inclined slightly in acknowledgement of all that Richard had found, but really had little interest herself in flowers aside their contribution to biomes. She said nothing as she watched him sit, said nothing at the chosen distance or at the seemingly slightly awkward air. She did speak in answer to his question though, with seeming little change in emotion. Her general posture was straight, but in a relaxed sort of way: Polite, but not coldly rigid.

"Busy." The tone may have been a little sharp on that word, but if it was, it was gone as she continued. "Tired, but generally well enough. Yourself? Was your time abroad all what you'd sought?"

Richard blinked at the tone, but only lifted his gaze from the flowers to give her a sidelong glance after she was done. "I see. It was... all that I'd expected, I suppose." Not as safe and easy as he'd hoped for, but he wasn't about to admit it right now. With a sigh, he leaned against the back of the bench. There really was no point to the small-talk, was there? No amount of foreplay would make it any easier to go into the subject.

"It's going to sound forced and hardly sincere from where I'm standing, I know. But I really am sorry." He glanced at Kale again. "I was going to write you... eventually. It would have been smoother than having this conversation in this way." He shrugged and gave a wry smile. "But here we are."

He wasn't even sure if his apology would mean anything to her. A bird chirped somewhere in the dark, reminding him that the woman next to him probably had more in common with it than him. Maybe he should get it to substitute for him. Swap places... Chase worms in place of humans. He shook his head sharply before his mind could drift away. He needed to remain alert.

"Yes. Here we are."

Ah, so, here it was. A crooked little smirk almost made its way onto her face.

"Well, I am glad your trip went well, then." Her voice took on more an air of business and reason. "Monsieur Wallace, your apology is accepted if that makes it better, but an apology is not needed." Her chin tilted up slightly. "I do not see how a letter would have been preferable, but I don't think this conversation need be difficult." There was no indication that she was joking, and simply just wanted everything out in the air for once. She was too tired for the usual word play, and there was work to be done. This was either worth her time, or a waste. She figured that it would soon be evident, depending on what he had to say to her. A familiar quirk pulled at her lips, eyebrow nearly raising in an amused and daring manner. "That said, what was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

He was right - Kale didn't care for his apology. If she ever would have, it was too late for it now anyway. The bird in the bushes giggled shrilly.

'Trip'. Richard resented the word, for all of its truthfulness. It was not supposed to be a 'trip'. He also didn't like her acting as if she didn't know what needed to be talked about, as if nothing at all was amiss; it brought back an echo of the cold anger he'd felt towards her what seemed so long ago. But, just an echo it was. It felt like it was another person's feelings that he somehow remembered. As if he was a ghost inhabiting the shell of somebody else.

"I find being honest in writing much easier than face to face, don't you?" he said, toying with the stem of a gerbera. Finally, he gathered the resolve to look her in the eye. Both his expression and his tone were neutral, almost dull. Defeated. "I wanted to tell you that you have been right, in most every aspect. I knew it back then as much as I know it now. It's just that knowing the state of things doesn't make me want to change it." He raised an eyebrow. "I thought hearing me admit it could bring you some sliver of satisfaction. Take it, whatever you can, by way of compensation for my how unkind I've treated you."

"Perhaps, but also perhaps less sincere."

Something of an irritated curiosity flickered across her face.

"It brings me very little satisfaction." Her look was of one wondering why he would think such a thing. She had always known she was right, being told this made no difference. Besides, this time, she didn't particularly care to be right. "For what it's worth, I wish you could have stayed wherever it was that you had found - with whatever happiness - rather than be stuck here with the rest of us." Kale paused briefly before shrugging a shoulder.

"You were hardly scarringly unkind. And, you rather helped me realize some things with what you said." Wings adjusted, unfolding to drape towards the ground in a relaxed manner. She looked inquiringly towards him. "What were you hoping the outcome of this conversation would be, Richard?"

For some reason, Richard always expected her to be more petty than she turned out to be. Perhaps because in her place he would have relished the little victory. Oh well.

He was going to answer, to give her an empty 'thanks', perhaps insist that he was indeed awful, ask what those revelations were. But in the end, all the response that he could find within himself to give was a mildly cynical smile and a curt "Good.". He studied her face for a moment. It was dark, the only light sources being the distant windows of the castle, but he was fairly certain that even with better visibility he would not be able to tell how honest she was being.

"Things being resolved." He looked away, putting his arms on the back of the bench. "But if everything is as okay as you claim," he said, giving a lazily dismissive wave with his hand, "then all the better."

Letting his head tilt back slightly, he shut his eyes, as if to suggest the conversation had run its course.

She watched him, accepted his short reply, and listened to his explanation. In her mind, all she could wonder was what he could possibly think. Perhaps so foreign were their ways on thinking, that she could not even start to guess where his mind was.

"You are, truly, an infuriating man." Her tone was quiet, but it seemed to break her thought as she watched his recline. She looked away, and slipped up from her seat to stand besides the bench. "Do you really think, with how we are acting right now, there wont just be another problem down the road?" She raised an eyebrow at his form before shaking her head, turning as to walk away. "Our meetings have not had a great record after that first."

A snort escaped him and he opened his eyes to see her leaving. "See, that's why we're such a perfect match. I could say the same to you." Sitting up straighter, he rubbed his face in his palms tiredly. "No, I do not think that. But I have offered you my apology and my honesty, and you don't seem to want either. I am truly at a loss. How about you do something, Kale?"

He stared at her, with half a wry smile, one arm slung over the back of the bench and the other hand keeping the flowers from spilling from his lap. His hair was in as much order as curly hair could be, and his brown corduroy coat, being open, laid slightly askew over an off-white shirt. He was a mess. And it was alright.

"Slap me, kiss me, stab me, fuck me. Kick me out or leave me alone. Do whatever, Kale, I don't care. Just stop pretending."

The harpy had slowed to listen to him, but rounded with something of a fury at what was heard.

"Excuse me?" Was it not she that offered him her honesty months ago, and him not wanting it or her in general? Kale faced him fully, hands placed on tilted hips. "That's the thing. You've always seemed to think I wanted something. If you recall, you were the one who came to my room. You were the one who kissed me, and you were the one who then shut down. I was only interested in a witty friend to sit and have conversations with over tea or alcohol. Nothing more."

Her eye narrowed and she strode forward to stand in front of the man, leaning slightly.

"What do you think I am pretending, here, exactly?"

Richard couldn't help a small, amused smile, idly tapping a nail against the wood. Finally, somewhat of a reaction.

"Yes. You wanted only that small thing, and tried pretty God damn hard to get it, didn't you? You said as much yourself when you were pleading with me to stay." The scene lingered in his mind, with all of its detail: the styrofoam, her expression, the pressure in the air, his liberating coldness. As he looked at her now, though, he just felt hollow. He cocked his head slightly. "You cared about what I did, you cared about me leaving, and you cared about me coming back. And you're trying to pretend you didn't, because it would be easier that way. Repressed feelings don't just disappear, Kale, as much as that saddens me. Now." He flipped his hand. "I suggested several solutions to the problem that is me. If you have any better ideas, I truly am all ears. Elsewise, yes, there will be more problems down the road."

The nerve of this man...

"I did. And I never said I didn't care. I'm saying it doesn't matter." Her tone was low, boarding on dangerously so. "I'm not repressing my feelings, I'm disregarding them. And do you know why, Richard? No. You don't." She snapped and leaned closer, wings extending out in a slightly hostile manner, hand coming up to rest not entirely kindly around the front of his throat. "Because you don't know why I cared. You never put any effort into trying to know the truth of me, so do not you presume to know my feelings."

She hissed it out. Letting her gaze linger over his facial features. As she did, though, her expression softened to something amused and seemingly tempted by him. Her posture and rigidness laxed and seemed to drape.

"Why are you so keen on confirmation of my affection, hmm? And how do you think those suggestions would fix anything at all?"

The hand on his throat had happened before, he remembered. Was it a standard maneuver of hers? Interesting. Richard glanced down to it briefly, but otherwise showed no signs of discomfort, sitting reclined and looking back into the dark eye with a sort of calm melancholy.

"I don't know your feelings." he admitted freely. "But I know that, repressed or disregarded, they're still making your snap at me... professional situations included." He gave her a weary look. "Affection or aggression, let it out, let the air be cleared. Tell me the truth. Show me the truth."

He spread his arms, as in yielding. "I'll take it. If you just want me to leave, I will. I don't want to fight anymore, but it seems that I have no choice. And if I have to, I'd rather fight the world than you."

Surprise flickered across her face, and wings flicked opened as if she had been about to pull back sharply and had stopped herself at the last minute. She gave him something of a mistrustful look, as if she hadn't understood the language he had used, but it passed. She sighed.

"I will not turn you out when I told you my doors would be open should you need." Her expression lost what energy it had and fell flat, matching something close to his, but with more thoughtful irritation.

"But don't flatter yourself. Just so happens, you caught me on a bad day. You're not the only person I snap at." Her lips were slightly pursed in a considering manner, returning his look as if considering him. She knew what she wanted, but..

"The truth? How can I, when I get the feeling you don't particularly want any of them, do you? A kiss, a slap, etc what have you, whatever it may be."

He quirked his lips up briefly in a sad smile. Despite everything, there was still a sliver of pleasure to be found in catching the woman off-guard.

It was a relief to hear she remembered her word and meant to keep it. He had hoped for as much when he decided to return... not that he could afford to not return, mind you, but...

He was upside down in the tree, thinking of where to go. The bird chirped its laughter again. Richard shook his head quickly in a movement that was more of a twitch, and his fingers grasped at the wood of the bench. Then he smiled lightly, letting go again. Nothing had happened.

"I appreciate the thought, mademoiselle. But I do want the truth, and I will go with it willingly." To both show that he meant it, and just in case, he gathered the flowers from his lap carefully and set them aside on the bench. Then, his gaze returned to the harpy, collected and expectant.

"Whatever it may be."

The harpy gave him an odd look. She glanced down to the re-positioning of the flowers and listened carefully. Had it been a thing that she would sit on his lap - she briefly entertained the idea.

Whatever it may be, hm?

There were a few things that she considered, each for some reason or another that seemed equally reasonable. Some were very tempting, but none enough to decide upon. The woman stood still and contemplative, eye searching his as if the answer were there to read. As if reaching a conclusion, she slipped forward, lifting a leg to slide up next to his, half-invading his lap but not really seating herself there. Leaning in, she slowly - as if not sure he would let her - moved to press red lips gently against his forehead. She would let it sit only a moment before speaking, barely moving back - it was only enough to be able to voice her thoughts.

"I would show you...but you're too heavy. I can't lift you."

Not so long ago, he may have been apprehensive of what was going through her mind, but right now it was not difficult to remain firm in his decision to let her do whatever she wanted to. Richard was too tired to be scared, and he had faced worse things than a woman's wrath... or affection, he thought, as she glided close to place a kiss on his brow. He remained still.

When she spoke, though, he blinked in confusion. Lift him...? The idea was peculiar enough to have to mean something, and he figured it out all too quickly. That weird evening... Even weirder that she remembered his words. He did what he had to do, he had to know about the anklet, but... how responsive she had been to his fairly clumsy flirting made the deceit all the worse. Like she would have liked him doing that. Like she hoped... And suddenly, her face hovering near his felt very wrong. He did not deserve her being nice.

With a soft noise of air being sucked in, he turned into a bat. He flapped his wings twice before landing on the back of the bench, tiny, sharp claws digging into the wood.

"I must humbly request you to not be too brutal with this," he said, with both amusement and honest pleading in his voice. "It is the last healthy body that I have left."

The sudden shift had her leaning up and away with some surprise. But as the new form sat there - speaking to her - she couldn't help the smile that cracked over her lips.

"Aw, you're adorable." Her expression was amused by the irony of a bat. "What would I possibly do, really..." The woman smiled a little wider, reaching her hand out in offering to the smaller form of the vampire to climb aboard. She had been being metaphorical, but now...well, now she knew exactly how to clear her mind of him - how to show him how she felt - this was more than perfect.

"Come on then. I promise I'll be gentle with you."

He peered at her, a little skeptically, with his beady eyes. "Thank you." It was strange, seeing her so huge now. Before the 20th century, he had no good way of describing the experience of being a bat, but now that the technology existed he knew it was very much like watching things from a remote-controlled camera. Well, one that also transferred all other sensory experiences, but it still felt like being a guest inside the bat.

Which did nothing for the weirdness of seeing things from this perspective... especially interacting with the now way oversized people.

Carefully, he stepped over onto her palm, which felt like a soft, leathery mattress. "And I'll do my best not to scratch you... but I'm promising nothing."

Her smile was unfaltering, and as the little creature climbed onto her hand, she lifted it slowly away from the bench.

"I'll keep that in mind." She eyed him a little, contemplating. Carefully, the woman brought the hand close to her chest, bring her other hand up to cover his back and side protectively, like any might hold a small animal close. It was weird, to think this thing Richard, so rather, she just thought of it as any other cuddly bat. Still the image was odd, but more so amusing.

She switched her gaze skyward, scanning, and wings opened in test. At least it was a nice night. Her grip secured a little more on her passenger. Without much more warning than that, the harpy bent her knees as feathers spread wide and jumped as they beat down to cast them into the air. The start was more labored, gaining altitude.

It felt peculiar to be held, but while it was hardly a thing he was used to, it was not the first time. He shifted in her grasp a little, making himself comfortable. As the ground began to gain distance, he thought back to his flowers, now surely scattered all around by the gusts of wind from Kale's wings. Whomever found them would think somebody picked them in idle vandalism. With a tut and a small sigh, Richard looked up to the sky.

He had half a mind to ask where they were going that required him being lifted, or if it was far, but he guessed that it would defeat the purpose of being shown. So he remained silent. Watching.