|
|
Post by Jericho Greybear on Apr 7, 2012 13:42:02 GMT 1
Jericho was worried about Andy Metro. More accurately, Sinjon was worried and was trying to hide it which made Jericho worry about him and he'd had to get out of the house before Sinjon's obsessive rearranging had made him say something else he would later have cause to regret. It wasn't that he didn't like the angel, the guy was good company sometimes, as in he didn't say much or expect anything from Jericho. And he was good to have on the wall during an attack, better than good, but after all the shit went down with the other angels and the demon, well Jericho just didn't get what all the fuss was about. Andy would come back or he wouldn't.
He sighed as he paced through the small town of Haven, winding his way through the narrow pathways between the cramped dwellings of the Havenites and out into the clearer areas of the town. He didn't like it when things were too quiet, he liked it when it was busy. He liked it best when he was on a raid against the vampires. Jericho had been born in Haven and was only twelve years old when his parents were killed on a similar raid to the ones he now led. His big brother Sinjon was all the family he had now and had practically raised him since then.
Andy's sudden disappearance had disrupted several of the town's defence schedules and Jericho was getting the feeling that the particulars of the next couple of raids might be going to change to accommodate the new ones. Jericho had already given Sinjon his opinions on the likely effects of shifting the raids about, he didn't need anyone to say anything to him specifically to see what was likely to happen. It was going to be last minute changes and somehow somewhere Jericho was going to end up smack in the middle of another steaming pile of shit.
Jericho had reached the training area and started to strip down ready to limber up before he started training properly but he no longer felt like training. The whole thing just seemed suddenly so pointless and he just felt tired. He thought about heading back home but the idea of being in the same space as Sinjon right now was enough to make him clutch his head in his hands. He sat down heavily on the bench and groaned. Maybe the best thing would just be to go and get really, really drunk...
|
|
|
|
Post by lorriel79 on Apr 7, 2012 15:42:46 GMT 1
Jessie headed out to town letting her footsteps lead her wherever it led her, taking along her sketchpad to get inspiration for her art.. She usually felt inspired by some force but this morning that inspiration was gone and she felt lonely and empty, like she had lost a part of herself. She wore her hair back pulled away from her face wearing a simple sundress with a sweater to keep away from the chill.
The past few days had been a blur for her and she was clueless about the lack of the angels as she was in a flurry of activity with her art which channeled the fury, although she did not know the source of it she went with it and put it on canvas the contrast of the evil with the good on the canvas. The result left her drained and empty.
Her path took her to the training center where she did a quick sketch of a lone man on the bench looking sad and depressed. She put the sketchpad away as he looked up and she looked embarrassed at being caught watching him. Turning away she looked for an exit in case the man got upset at the intrusion of his privacy,
|
|
|
|
Post by Jericho Greybear on Apr 9, 2012 2:03:59 GMT 1
Jericho was still musing sullenly when he slowly became aware that he was being watched. Looking up he saw a woman he did not recognise hastily stuffing some sort of notepad back into her bag. He frowned in confusion. For all that people sometimes avoided him, Jericho didn't tend to miss who was about. Who was she and why was she looking at him?
She didn't have the look of a raider and he would definitely have noticed a new name on the assignments roster anyway. He found himself staring back at her. She looked city soft, maybe she was a new refugee? That still didn't explain why she was looking at him like that though. She looked ready to bolt anyway, like she thought he'd bite or something.
He wondered for a moment if anyone had said anything to her about him. He knew that some, well quite a few actually, of the Havenites didn't like him much. Jericho experienced a flash of anger at the thought and tried to calm himself. He didn't know anyone had said anything. He should say something to her, but he had no idea what...
She was actually quite pretty now he looked at her properly. Yeah, he should definitely say something. Slowly he raised a hand in greeting to her. “Hey!” he managed to say before realising he had nothing to follow it with.
|
|
|
|
Post by lorriel79 on Apr 9, 2012 2:15:50 GMT 1
She saw him look up at her with a startled look and just as she was about to leave the man speaks and she finds herself moving closer to him but still unsure about who she can trust and who was not to be trusted. Her judgement of other wasn't the best since her attack after losing her family, the man had fooled her and seduced her into bed and then attacked her. It left her rattled and with nightmares that seem so real.
" Hello I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy I was just working on my artwork "
She finds herself wanting to trust, she rememberd the vow that she made to herself to not let others get the best of her and no longer being a victim in her own life.Wrapping her sweater around her more she wanted to hide and go back to her santuary in town, she had found it abandoned and made it better into an artist retreat for herself.
She had only been living in Haven for a few months but this was the first time she had ventured out into the city beyond getting essentials.
Beyond the scruff of his face are eyes that were caring and wanted to connect, to know her story and what she was about. She wonders about what his story was. Did he have family here? What caused him to be so sad that his eyes were still not smiling?
|
|
|
|
Post by Jericho Greybear on Apr 9, 2012 3:57:10 GMT 1
“Hello," he said again. Jericho wanted to kick himself. He really never knew what to say to people in situations like this, like ever. It was Sinjon who was the smooth one, always knowing what people needed to hear. All Jericho knew was how to give orders to people so scared out of their wits that they would have done anything for anyone who could still string a sentence together. Anyone who asked around the raiders however would find that many in the teams held Jericho's flawless instincts under fire in much higher regard than he held himself.
He started to wish he had done the training after all. If he got up now the woman would probably be pissed at him and he didn't want to upset her. She looked so fragile and out of place in the dusty training area and... had she said artwork? The only individual he had ever seen drawing anything around Haven, other than battle-plans, had been Aiden who worked in the warehouses. Jericho was suddenly very curious as to what the woman found around here that was worth drawing.
Jericho looked at the woman more intently, wondering again who she was and what was her name. Name...duh! That was what he should say. “I'm Jericho, what's your name?” His stomach lurched as he spoke and he really hoped she didn't freak out at him. He had no idea at all what he would do if she did.
|
|
|
|
Post by lorriel79 on Apr 9, 2012 4:38:32 GMT 1
She watched him intently wondering what he would do next and if she should be worried but so far he did not seem to be a threat to her. He looked like he was debating what to say in his mind too and she can see that he has questions about her artwork.
Jessie Foster, I usually use stuff from my life and what I dream about as my inspiration but today things seemed so empty and depressing that I did not have a single bit of inspiration
Jessie had no reaction to hearing his name, she barely knew anyone in the town since she has been only here a few months and stayed holed up in her home. She used her artwork to get through the pain and suffering of the past and to heal her wounds, putting her life back together. She reached in her bag and took out the sketch pad where the rough sketch of him is but it still has quite a bit of detail in it.
"Would you like to see the sketch, It's not much or that high of quality yet just a rought sketch?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Jericho Greybear on Apr 9, 2012 21:08:44 GMT 1
Jericho was relieved when the woman, Jessie she had said, didn't panic or run. He could do without the headache of a 'scene' right now. He noticed someone on the training floor looking over at him and Jessie with obvious curiosity and he shot them a dirty and quelling look that sent them scurrying back about their business. Gods but he hated being stared at... but oddly enough Jessie watching him hadn't bothered him like that.
He smiled a little at Jessie, and though it didn't quite reach his eyes it was genuine enough. He shuffled a little along the bench so that she could sit down if she liked without being too close to him. “Yeah. I mean, I'd like to see it. Please?” Jericho winced inwardly at his awkward response, but he really did want to see her sketching now.
He scuffed his foot absently in the dirt as he waited to see if she would come closer and sit by him. He was struck again by how delicate she seemed and a sudden anxiety that she was going to turn around and walk away from him. He almost jumped up from the bench in panic but caught a hold of himself, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand as he tightened his fist, focusing on just sitting there.
|
|
|
|
Post by lorriel79 on Apr 9, 2012 21:44:33 GMT 1
She moved slowly to sit on the bench and sat down at the other end, she had noticed him glaring at the others and oddly she felt that he was being protective of her, she appreciated that more than he could know. She was fragile that was for sure but she promised herself to be stronger.
Pulling her sketchpad out she hands it over to him nervous about it being shown, she always did have nerves showing her work to strangers. " its just a rough sketch it could be better "
watching as he looked at the photo she rarely ever showed her work, her family had been supportive of her work and she had been about to start showing it at a gallery. She had gone to art school and taken classes prefecting her talent, but after the accident and all that happend, she had scrapped that idea just wanting to get away from everyone.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jericho Greybear on Apr 9, 2012 22:50:17 GMT 1
When Jessie edged nervously closer to him, finally seating herself lightly and as far away as possible, his smile tugged a little harder at the corners of his mouth. She had sat down, which was considerably more than he had honestly expected, and he felt inordinately pleased with himself that he had not frightened her away. He waited, trying hard to feign patience, as she withdrew the sketch book again from her bag and offered it hesitantly to him. He took it carefully, not wanting to snatch, and opened it with an intense curiosity.
Jericho looked at the latest sketch in surprise. He eyes widened as he took it in, the lines were rough but the subject was unmistakable... it was him. Why on earth had she wanted to draw him? He continued to stare at the drawing, amazed that in so few lines she had so perfectly captured the despondent mood that had taken him when he first sat down. He ran his fingers over the paper without thinking, snatching them back sharply as a dark smudge appeared where he had touched. He glanced up at her in a mix of apology and panic.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered, thrusting the pad back towards her before he did any more damage. “I didn't mean to...” Jericho stood up quite suddenly, he was horribly agitated now and desperately needed to burn off some energy. “It's a really good picture...” he tailed off awkwardly. “I... I gotta go train now.” It sounded like a lame excuse in his own ears but he needed to do something or he was going to explode. He strode swiftly over to a punch-bag and proceeded to viciously beat all hell out of it.
When he paused it was to peer back over to the bench to see if Jessie was still there or if she had taken the opportunity to flee.
|
|
|
|
Post by lorriel79 on Apr 9, 2012 23:25:05 GMT 1
She watched him as he looked at the drawing staring at it intently and she can not tell if he is pleased or not. he had a mix of emotions. Seeing his hands move over the artwork and then drawing his hand away as if it burned him and seered into his memory.
Almost just as suddenly as he sat down he bolts back up dropping to sketchpad on the bench and mumbles something about the sketch being good and that he needs to go. This confused her and she wonderd what she said wrong, maybe he knew what happened to her that she was damaged goods . Or maybe he had been burned in the past, She is unsure.
Jessie watched him briefly as he punched the bag. She walked up behind him, leaving her bag on the bench and in a voice soft timid yet with a strength underneath it.
I'm sorry for whatever you went through I'll leave you alone but if you want to talk I'll be around, I left the sketch on the bench for you
She then turned and walked toward the door, on the back of the sketch she left her address for when he was ready to talk.she could tell that he was troubled like she and she wanted to be his friend and maybe be able to let out what happened to her as well.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jericho Greybear on Apr 11, 2012 1:33:11 GMT 1
Jericho vented his frustration at his own social ineptitude in pummelling energetically at the leather and sack punch-bag, and it wasn't long before he was sweating and breathing heavily. He only had one way of doing things and that was all out. When he glanced back towards the bench, expecting to see Jessie's retreating back his jaw dropped in shock as she got up and actually started walking towards him. Jericho was stunned into immobility and he just stood there and watched her walking slowly and inexorably towards him like she were an incoming tide and he were Canute.
His mind was racing with a thousand and one questions the whole time she spoke to him and he was still standing there slack jawed when she turned and left. Jericho didn't move until Jessie had turned the corner and passed entirely out of sight. When he looked back toward the bench sure enough she had left him the sketch there. In a flurry of contradictory feelings, Jericho threw himself back into his workout, pounding away until his body and emotions were mutually exhausted. Finally he headed away home to clean up and rest, the sketch rolled up and carried carefully in his hand.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It was late that night when Jericho slipped out of the tiny dwelling he shared with his older brother. Sinjon was finally sleeping but Jericho had woken after a short and fitful sleep and just couldn't relax again. He had fallen asleep earlier that afternoon, just staring at the sketched image. He had shown it to Sinjon but his brother had been too preoccupied to pay it much heed. That was when he had noticed that Jessie had marked where she lived on the back. It was a spur of the moment impulse as he lay restless in his bed, trying to make out the lines of the picture in the near dark, that he decided he would go to see her.
He knew the town layout like the back of his hand and he moved surely and silently through the narrow streets toward Jessie's home without needing a light. In typical Jericho fashion however, it did not occur to him that the middle of the night might not be the best of times for a relative stranger to be making random, unannounced house calls. He had been concerned initially that he would not recognise the correct dwelling but it was pretty unmistakeable with the delicate climbing rose design stencilled beside the doorway. He paused right outside the door of the house, uncertain suddenly of his welcome.
|
|
|
|
Post by lorriel79 on Apr 11, 2012 2:18:10 GMT 1
Jessie went home earlier in the day after wandered the streets and explored her new city then headed home. She had gone home and lost track of time with her art put paint to the charcol stetches of the angel and demon battle. The lights were on in the back room of her house which she had converted into her studio. There was her art laid out around the room some in the process of being dried, others still in charcol sketch mode and one in being painted. She used bold reds and ivory colors to represents the whites of the wings. Red to represent the demons and blood. The one on the easel now is a touching protrait of two angels one in heaven reaching out to help the other, it is half painted.
She heard the light chime of the door and goes to answer the door, she wore her fathers old work shirt which is loose on her body and one of the shoulders is exposed along with pants. the outfit is covered in splotches of paint which included smudge of paint on her jaw where she brushed some stray tendrils from her face.
Jericho hello come in, I see you took my invitation to heart
|
|
|
|
Post by Jericho Greybear on Apr 12, 2012 3:17:06 GMT 1
When the door open and light came streaming out into the darkened street Jericho flinched a little as his night adapted eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. His pupils shrank away making his dark brown eyes seem larger and softer than usual. He smiled as he blinked and took in Jessie's paint mussed appearance. “Hey.” he said quietly in greeting, intensely aware of how voices carried at night in the silent, empty streets. Jericho was dressed simply in loose training pants and a vest, looking very much as if he had just rolled out of bed. He brushed his unruly chestnut hair back out of his face with his fingers and hesitating only for a moment, he stepped across the threshold.
Jericho followed Jessie into the house and was immediately surprised at the sheer number of drawings and paintings that seemed to festoon every available surface. His eyes roamed ceaselessly about taking in every detail. His memory was excellent and if anyone had asked him later he would have been able to describe every one of the pictures that decorated her small sanctum. He paused to stare, for some not inconsiderable span, at the half finished painting of the two angels, before turning to look half questioningly at Jessie. “You painted Andy,” he said simply. “Who's the other one?”
|
|
|
|
Post by lorriel79 on Apr 12, 2012 3:39:24 GMT 1
She lead him through her home, which included her living room which had cozy furniture in earth tones and art work done by her mother on the walls. Nature scenes that always had a calming effect on her when she was upset. The bedroom and kitchen are on the other side of the small home. She let him go ahead of her while she got something to drink for them , letting him go explore her art room on his own. It was best to let visitors take it all in on their own not the guided tour which always seemed so fake to her.
When she joined him with tea and coffee which she set on the table in the corner she heard him commenting on her current art peice. He mentioned someone named Andy and asking who the other Angel is.
" I really don't know who either of them are last night I got inspired I woke up with all these visions in my head and I worked straight through the night painting all the images, It was so vivid and real "
|
|
|
|
Post by Jericho Greybear on Apr 12, 2012 22:23:33 GMT 1
“Andy... I guess you could say he was our angel. He's been here quite a while, doesn't say much though.” Jericho paused to gather his thoughts. What did he actually know about the angel? He had watched Andy fight in defence of the town so he could say a fair bit about his fighting prowess... but Jessie wasn't a fighter so why would she care? He stared again at the painting, searching for something else to say. “I've never seen one spread its wings like that... I heard they can't down here. You can see the feathers on their backs though, like a drawing.” He squinted harder at the image. “They don't have navels...”
Jericho was perplexed at how much prettier Jessie had managed to make the battle seem than the filthy mud drenched chaos he remembered from actually being there, yet it was still recognisable. He was lost in thought for a moment, just staring at the picture before he suddenly realised that Jessie might have taken his comments as a criticism. He looked up guiltily. “I didn't mean...” he stumbled over the words, not exactly certain what he should be apologising for or even if he should be. He let out a sigh and just bit the bullet and said what he was really thinking. “I really like your drawings. Could you... I mean, do you think you could show me how?”
|
|
