Crowd Control

by **Katrina A. Russel** June 27th 2017, 2:42 am

”Ugh. So many people, so much noise. How do they stand to live in this cacophony day in and out?”

The complaint was murmured, barely above a whisper, by a short, dark-haired girl whose flashing blue eyes were currently clouded in annoyance. Katrina hated this place; the malls in her hometown were subdued religious exercises compared to the sheer weight of noise here. Weight really did seem to be the right word; the noises, screaming, cheering, crying and million and one other noises generated by such a huge complex full of people combined into a force with an almost irrepressible weight. Katrina felt it weighing her down as she tried her best to dodge the crowd. The noise she could handle; it was the distracted crowd that was surely going to drive her mad. Sourly, she rubbed her shoulder and in the direction of the offender, a young man on a skateboard, too much in a hurry for whatever vapid sale he was rushing off to. A string of expletives, aimed at all wheeled vehicles, left her lips.

”Such is the state of the world.” Her companion, a tall, willowy woman who goes simply by Iris, stated. Katrina always liked her; stern but fair, her kind brown eyes and motherly bun hid the soul of a blooded killer. ”They are driven by materialism. They are American, after all.” Katrina barely remembered to hide a smirk at this; Iris was very outspoken about her thoughts on all culture about her own. ”I still do not understand why you insisted on this place.” At this, Katrina had no answer; she was drawn to this place in her quest to restore her family’s name. Which was odd. In no way did the Russel family have connections to America in anyway; quite the opposite. Her grandfather was very adamant about his beliefs, and believed America to be a blight on the world.

”I’m not sure either …”

Her voice barely above a whisper, she took Iris’s momentary silence as a chance to look over the crowd. She was interested in … well, in interesting people. Her keen eyes took in the myriad of problems a crowd this size has; a spilled drink slowly inching towards a frayed wire, a man and wife, unaware of their toddler running towards an open door, a group of teenagers harassing an older lady. But she wasn’t interested in this; she was interested instead in another figure in the food court, casually surveying the crowd, much as she was. There was something about him, some reflex of hers, that drew her in and before she knew it, she was on her way down the stairs, weaving her way through the crowd again. Her first reflex was the far more direct one, but that could cause quite the panic.

She tapped him on the elbow, a smile already in place on her face. “Hi! My name is Katrina, mind if I sit here? I’m just waiting for a friend, and I told her I’d meet her in the food court. Everywhere else is full.” Her eyes were like the ocean at play, the light dancing about the sapphire orbs, and her voice carried the unmistakable hint of a British accent. Lightly she held the chair she had gestured to, perfectly white teeth worrying her lower lip in the perfect illusion of worry.

by **Chellizard** June 27th 2017, 5:28 pm

Taking in a very deep breath, the stench of fried everything filled his senses.

"Why on earth did I come here again?" he sighed, shoulders hunching as he walked toward a lone table in the middle of the food court. The crowds around of him were all like packs of different animals. Brightly colored outfits adorning a group of girls, all giggling and insisting on stealing glances at him.

And, they were right to. He was very handsome, after all.

Vihaan stood at a modest six feet and two inches. His dark complexion was accented by his dark reddish brown hair. The thick curls were pulled back into a messy bun, a tuft of hair loosely hanging to the left of his face. Dark eye liner accented his almond shaped eyes, making the golden green eyes of his a bit brighter. His shoulders were his foundation, and his body was lithe, yet built. He wore a deep purple overcoat that split just below the naval, billowing at the sides to show he had dark slacks underneath. His feet were dressed in a pair of dark boots that perfectly matched his attire choice.

Sinking into a chair, he took a moment to breathe and collect himself. He had come here in search of another trail he had picked up in regards to his missing father. He was hoping to find the man, vanquish him, and be on with his life. But, not today. Not yet, at least. Licking over his lips, he pulled a small notebook out of his inner pocket, his hand slipping between the fold of his overcoat. He also produced a slender, black pen. Clicking it a few times, he then began to doodle in the notebook, just etching out an idea.

As he was mid stroke, he felt a tap at his elbow and it made him jump a bit. Turning, he faced who had bothered him. As he turned to face her, she would be greeted by a pair of eyes that might just be prettier than the one's Vihaan found himself looking into. She would also notice he had a labret piercing, an eyebrow piercing, and several ear piercings. Furrowing his brows, he cleared his throat while he closed his notebook.

"I see no harm in sharing this small table..." trailing off, he blinked and glanced around quickly. His own voice held an accent almost sounding British, but clearly there were some other underlying tones. As he looked around, it became evident that there were plenty of other tables around of them. And this woman... what was her deal? Was she an assassin sent by his father? He would carefully exchange the slender black pen in his hand for a more intricately designed one. He made the swap without her eyes leaving his.

"This... place seems odd for a meeting." he would finally say, biting into conversation. Hopefully he wouldn't regret it.

by **Katrina A. Russel** June 27th 2017, 7:14 pm

He was tall, and Katrina found she quite liked that … which was a surprise to her. She had always envied others for their height, but apparently when it’s attached to dark hair, piercings, and golden-green eyes that defied any sort of classification. It was these Katrina found herself staring at, and she into his. Her own would burn with curiosity and inherent mischievousness. Almost against her will, she felt her lips curl into a true smile. Part smirk and part … something else, something dangerous behind the pretty face. A nail painted blue tugged a loose strand behind her ear.

”Is it?”

She sounded curious. Her head was cocked as if contemplating the oddity of the scenario, but the grin on her lips was equal parts playful and impish and didn’t look confused at all. She wasn’t really trying to act confused, either; she disliked the idea of lying to the stranger straight off the bat (now that was the confusing part, she had thought most of her inhibitions to misdirection gone with her training).

”You are quite correct. It is quite odd. Perhaps I’m lying?”

The question was posed almost like a challenge, but a playful one. Her blue eyes sparked with entertainment.

by **Chellizard** July 10th 2017, 11:21 am

Vihaan was about as social as a rock on his best days, so picking up a conversation with a girl that had blue painted nails, ebony hair, and piercing blue eyes to go with porcelain skin, well... that was just odd for him. He was a suave man, sure, but to actually go out of his own way to engage in conversation was just... baffling.

But, she accepted his pitch for a chat, so now it was his turn. All he had to do was not screw it up.

His notebook was still in hand, of course, his hand now clutching a much more beautiful looking pen, but it was also one hundred times more dangerous than the previous black pen he had in his grip. However, he was sure she had no idea he had made the swap. She would have to have super recognition to have noticed the swap. It was just too casual. Plus, for all she knew, he was only bringing out the pen to further impress her.

On the page was a sketch of a girl from the side, her eyes closed, and half finished, of course. There were a lot of messy lines, cross hatching, and dotting effects that made up the piece. He would use it as a distraction, leaving the notebook open on the table now as he looked up from it toward the blue eyed girl.

"And if you were, let's say you're some highly trained FBI agent and you're here to arrest me because, let's just pretend, that I'm a most wanted criminal." He flashed a charming half smile, his teeth white, and dimples forming at the sides of his smile.

"And, let's just add on, that today is the day you finally catch me. But, we have to play a game first. Beat me at tic tac toe." he offered, clicking his pen again to reveal that it was indeed a real pen, when it wanted to be. Usually it was an artifact with highly potent magic imbued within it. So, within her hand, it would be useless, but in his... it would be a force to reckon with.

He would add the three by three square cross hatch into the drawing he was making, and then offer her the pen.

"Ladies first," he would say, sliding the notebook toward her, but only barely. If she were interested, she would scoot her chair toward his, and move in closer. If she weren't, she would pull the notebook closer to herself.

It was a gamble, and Vihaan loved things like this.

by **Katrina A. Russel** July 20th 2017, 9:11 pm

Her smile had faded as he talked; not in disinterest, actually, but the opposite. A smile wasn’t quite right on her face; it didn’t fit the lines and shape. No, her face fell naturally into a half- smirk, a mysterious, twisted look that somehow looked better on her features than the most charming smile, and her eye twinkled with the same playfulness as she watched him draw. She was always fascinated by art, even though she had no skill in it herself. She liked to say she could barely draw a straight line. This stranger didn’t have that problem; he was an artist, she could tell. For a second, her eyes lingered on the pen; an expensive piece, for sure, and it looked old, but Katrina couldn’t tell the brand; most likely custom made. The corners of her lips twitched in amusement; he was an artist, attractive, and certainly had a sense of humor. She’d be in danger if he had a killer-

Oh. Wow, his smile really is killer. Katrina felt the faintest breathiness in her chest, and a this made her quirk an eyebrow. She had thought ‘breathiness’ was an illusion; or, at least the kind caused by an attractive smile was. ’Well … today is just full of surprises …’ Her eyebrows quirked as he suggested a game; mostly in jest, for sure, but she could sense an underlying tension - or, perhaps not tension, but an underline indeed. She couldn’t place her finger on what it was. She tried to figure it out, eyes narrowed at the man so she was staring through her curved lashes. Of course, it was mostly a tease; the suspicious crunch to her face was undercut by a small smile flickering on her lips.

”FBI? Please. As if they could catch a cold.”

She teased him, her teeth biting her lower lip.

”If anything, I’d be an assassin, wouldn’t you agree? That certainly would account for my strange behavior.”

She said this with a laugh in her voice, as if the very idea was unthinkable.

”And you are a most precocious target. To insist I play a game? Shame on me, but I’m intrigued.”

She scooted closer then, taking the proffered pen. For a second, she rolled it around in her fingers, feeling the weight off the pen before carefully adding a perfect circle to the top right. Though she did feel it was a shame to mar such a perfect picture, this game was better than art. With a smirk that could rival even the most devilish of cats, she placed the pen carefully on the paper and turned it to face him; she was close enough now for him to smell her perfume. It was subdued, some slight flowery scent with a slight hint of lemon. Her hand brushed across his leg, and her smirk widened infinitesimally.

”Ooh. One step closer to my target.”

by **Chellizard** July 6th 2018, 10:53 pm

His attention never wavered, his gaze perhaps dropping for a split second, but remaining affixed to her in his peripherals at least. He would watch as she made the decision to move forward, her slight laugh all too charming. If she were indeed a wolf in sheep’s clothing, he would soon find out.

”Imagine if it were I that was in the FBI, and you were my target,” he bantered, his eyes resting at a half-lidded expression, adding a coyness to his overall expression.

All talk and no bite, Vihaan was wildly nervous behind of his suave façade. He had every intention of enjoying this occasion, but something told him that it would be short-lived. He just felt a lingering presence of evil, and it didn’t help that this girl smelled like lemon. Wait. She smelled like lemon.

Taking a sharp inhale, he would appreciate the smell, allowing it to envelop his senses. He was fairly good at picking up subtle notes hidden in perfumes. Blame it on his mother’s expensive tastes when he was a child. The flowery smell made him think of chrysanthemums; a perfect note to add to lemon.

As her hand brushed over his leg, Vihaan’s body would stiffen slightly, but not for the reason she thought. His fake left eye would roll backward, his eyes closing for a moment as it did to not alarm this woman. A trail of black magic could be sensed, and his eye had caught it without warning. It must be something powerful. Blinking a bit, he would shake his head to make the tuft of hair fall across his left eye, keeping it from view just in case it decided to roll backward again.

"So, what brings you here of all places?" bringing back a more normal topic of conversation, he would argue with himself internally.

This must be a bad omen if there's something dark lurking here.

Or it's your father, idiot.

It definitely could be.

But what if it's really something terrible.

Then you can destroy it. You're a powerful magician. You're not just some fancy stage act where you "saw" women in half.

Yeah, but...

Shut up. You're stalling. It's your turn.

He would take the pen back, his hand shifting over to slap an X right in the middle of the tic tac toe board. He chose the middle because, even if he did not win, he could always prevent her from winning.

But she must already know this. Right?

by **Katrina A. Russel** August 1st 2018, 4:10 am

He seemed to like this, and the small smile on the young noble’s face broadened. She didn’t let her hand linger, though. That required far more guts than she had, and besides, good things were best served in small packages and delivered sparsely. And this was very much a good thing. She let her finger splay across the table, her delicate, manicured fingers flat and relaxed. She was still prepared, though; if this guy proved to be a creep, he’d have a broken neck in seconds. Her head suddenly snapped up, like a deer sensing danger, and her eyes met Isis, the warm brown eyes cocked in a warning glare. Right. She needed to relax and enjoy herself, something … pretty hard, actually, when you’ve spent the vast majority of your life learning that a threat lies behind every corner.

His choice spoke volumes about him. Willing to take risks for victory, surely. Did that translate into other things? Her eyes, the darkness behind them temporarily shrouded, suddenly blazed, staring at him with what could only be described as primal curiosity. Would he be a suitable opponent? Willing to fight and tear her limb from limb if Ala’khir gazed poorly on her? She realized she was staring, then, at the young man and barely managed to look away before a blush crept across her cheeks. She hated blushing; it made her look poor, and besides it threw into relief the freckles dotted across her cheeks and nose. She hated those freckles so freaking much. Casually, as if brushing a hair from her head, she traced a finger across her face. It was a trick she used, a psychosomatic method to control her breathing and banish any physical reaction. It was only when she was sure the blush was gone from her face did she turn back, throwing another dazzling smile at him. But it wasn’t happy; nothing about Katrina seemed happy. Intense, yes, proud, but not happy.

”Would it be too cliche to say you?”

She laughed lightly as if it were a joke, but in reality it wasn’t too far from the truth. The reality of the situation was, she might one day have to do exactly this to get close to taeam, and she needed to know how to do it right. She let a pause fill the silence, in the meantime marking on the board another perfect little circle; lower left. Risky for sure, but if played right, it would be a tie. That was the result of the game, wasn’t it? Play it perfectly. A thoughtful look spread over her face, and she rolled the pen between her fingers, feeling the perfect weight. A perfect game … she scoffed to herself and slide the pen back a little roughty.

”Answer a hypothetical for me, would you?”

There was an intensity to her question, almost a plea, but her pretty features were frozen in a stone mask. She wouldn’t continue, only staring at him, brilliant sapphire eyes set in pale features. It almost looked a death mask, with the pitch black of her hair falling around her face in pin-straight lines.

by **Chellizard** July 3rd 2019, 4:31 pm

Vihaan was a man of many virtues, and patience was not one. Curiosity often killed the cat, and he was too many times the cat. He wanted to stay and impress this girl, but he also wanted to stop whatever evil was lurking behind of him. He would offer a soft smile and take the pen, placing an X shape in the top middle square. They were now taking up four of the nine spaces on the board.

TicTacToe:

"A bit cheesy, yes. But, I won't hold it against you." a small smirk would trace over his lips as he watched her, looking back down to their little game as he offered her the pen back.

The obvious choice was in front of Katrina, if she wanted to make the obvious choice. She could easily let him win, allowing him to feel pride and triumph over her. Or, she could make it a challenge and stop him from placing his little X in the bottom middle square. He would offer the pen back to Katrina, completely oblivious to the fact she had even blushed a few moments ago. He was too preoccupied with the dark energy lingering behind of him. He wanted to go chasing after it, and instead, he was wasting his time with this woman. He was one to put off his problems, after all. It only made sense.

Offering a cheesy smile, he would raise his pierced brow and turn his head slightly in a curious fashion.

"So, what is this hypothetical? I may or may not have an answer for you, darling." he would almost purr his words out, his deep hazel eyes burning with a sort of passion for this moment. He had been so socially deprived this bit of conversation with this stranger was feeding his soul. It felt good.

But, all good things have to come to an end.

"On second thought. Don't ask. I've gotta run, love. Maybe our paths will cross again in the future." he would wave and place his pen back into a pocket.

The lingering evil made him stand and leave. It was too important. He was a rude guy at the end of the day, after all.

Maybe they could meet in the future.

Thread end by mutual agreement.

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