[IC] Once Upon a January | Jester & MurderVictim

[Jester Acharis]

A lone, monstrous figure stood knee deep in snow, beastly eyes cast low and clawed arms hanging limply at his sides. The perfect white of the snow around him was tainted red, and the source of the now-frozen blood lay limp some feet in front of him, partly covered by the still falling hail. The monster bared its fangs and growled slowly, frustration growing every second he spent there, staring down at the scene he was all too familiar with. How many damn times did this make it?

It would always begin so well. They would be like made for each other. He would devote himself to her, and protect her from all harm. But then, somewhere along the line and seemingly out of nowhere, the human would all of a sudden get ridiculous; she would start to demand things she didn't need. She would want freedom, she would want time alone - and she would want him not to protect her. She would ask him not to kill. It was insulting, every fucking time it happened. And in the end... he would always find himself looking down at them like this, with their form stiff and lifeless and his mind taken over by confusion and loss - and above all else, anger. Those cocky, ungrateful humans did not understand that they could not have it both ways. Either he protected someone from everything - or nothing. Including himself.

The wind howled, drawing an involuntary shudder from the beast and returning his quickly darkening thoughts back to where they began. Knowing he could not stay for longer, the demon cocked his head one more time, frozen lips parting just enough for him to mumble out one raspy, bellowing sentence, eyes narrow and sharp.

"You weren't the one, either."

The monster turned, form still shaking from the cold as he started to push his way through the drifts of snow that surrounded him as far as the eye could see. Hailing from a world of brimstone and fire, he was not one to withstand cold that well, yet he had little choice but to move forward. And as he did, with every heavy step he took, his beastly form shrunk and twisted, slowly transforming him into something much more human. Claws retracted and were replaced by long, slender fingers, beastly mane turned into short, golden hair and the holes the monster had for eyes regained life and a deep sky blue color.

And, by the time he stopped his advance, he was in his human form, utterly and completely. And boy, was he cold. He hated this. Goddamn did he hate this. Ah, but he couldn't very well stop now, could he? He was too proud to give up, even after the other demons told him time and time again that it would be the best. Told him that there were plenty of female demons for him to choose from and that hell, they'd even help him kidnap an angel if he wished to own something a little more exotic. But no, he couldn't agree to something like that. He wanted a human. Humans were the biggest mystery he had ever come across, after all, and he was very much a demon of great, insatiable curiosity. He wanted to own a human and nothing else. He wanted to hold something fragile, make it dance on his palmtop and know that should he want to, he could crush it any time. But he never would. He wouldn't, because he loved delicate things.

The demon wasn't sure how many times he had failed up until now, but he did realize that if he wished something to change, he would need to initiate it. He would need to try a different approach. Risk it all. And that was why, instead of stalking the bars and nightclubs or peeking into windows and cars, he was here instead. Here, defying death in the less busy parts of the city, far from the crowded center. This would be his one last try.

The demon didn't manage many more steps before collapsing, the simple black jacket and jeans not offering enough protection from the cold to keep him up any longer. He shivered, tired, but still managed one final, twisted grin and a silent whisper of an order.

"Come, human," he mumbled quietly, voice suddenly growing darker and more demanding. "Come find me."

I'm waiting.

[MurderVictim]

"Hey, Frankie! You gonna be okay gettin' home?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine!" The twenty year old turned to look at the man that had called out to her. He stood in the doorway of the restaurant, warm light flowing out onto the darkened, cold street. "My apartment isn't that far away." She shrugged her small backpack on one shoulder, hearing her school books shift and knock into each other.

Her co-worker gave her an uncertain look, but nodded and stepped back into the building. The bell chimed as the door closed, shutting out the smell of the dinner specials. He left her lingering on the sidewalk, where she readjusted her bag and turned back in the direction she was going. Before, the walk home hadn't seemed so bag. A little cold, but she could handle the cold. Or so she thought. A shiver went down her spine as a gust of wind sent countless snow flurries into her face.

Francis Castells, or Frankie as she much preferred, ran a hand through her short hair. At feeling the gel-crusted spikes, she mentally noted that she needed to hop in the shower as soon as she could when she got home. That hairdo seemed like a cool idea that morning. Her hair was stuck as a blue color thanks to a mistake - twenty-four hair dye her ass - so she figured she should at least work with it and go with the flow. Nope. That wasn't working. Sighing, she continued her trek back home.

Her breath billowed up into the air in visible puffs. She blew out another breath, then another, watching as the tendrils slowly vanished. She tugged her jacket closer to her body, though the cold didn't seem to bother her that much. It was much easier for her to accept the cold, as opposed to the heat. Better to be caught in a snow storm than a heat wave in her book. The crunch of deep snow below her sneakers; the bite of freezing air through her plain, black and gray work uniform; she didn't mind any of it. Then again, it helped that her destination wasn't that far away.

Frankie reached into her pocket and fished out an old MP3 player, and was about to put in her earphones when a strange sight caught her attention. Up ahead, it looked like there was something sprawled out in the middle of the sidewalk. The snow was falling so heavily, it was hard to see what it could possible be. At first, she thought it was just a trick of the dim light. When she had finally trudged closer, Frankie gasped that it was no trick - it was a fallen person.

She let her backpack slip off her shoulder and into the snow while she hurried to the man's side. She knelt down beside him, noting that he did not seem to be familiar to her. What was she supposed to do? Call an ambulance? It would never get there, not in that heavy weather. And she didn't have a cell on her. Almost frantically, she looked up, trying to spot any other person on the street, but it was empty. Crap, what now? She could try to rouse him enough to get him to the restaurant, though she was already at the half-way mark. It would make more sense to just take him back to her place. Her common sense told her that wasn't a very good idea, considering that he was a complete stranger. But her sense of moral won out by saying that if she did nothing, he was sure to freeze to death.

"Hey. Are you okay?" She put a hand on his shoulder and gently shook. "Sir, are you okay?"

[Jester Acharis]

He wasn't sure which one it was that ultimately made him stir; the touch he felt on his shoulder or the words of concern he heard flow from somewhere above him. In either case, the demon let out a small grunt in reply, shifting a bit to turn his hazy gaze at the girl. He couldn't make out the details of her face or form, but even a quick look-over ascertained that yes, it was indeed a human girl, next to him, attempting to rouse him. So someone had come, after all! That meant that he'd have a new one. A new human. And this time, one caring enough to worry for a random stranger in the middle of the night, a decidedly dangerous thing for a young girl to do.

She would be perfect.

"I'm..." he managed, his poor condition not at all a ruse. He might have overdone it a bit with the whole 'last try ever' stuff earlier on. Guess he'd just forgotten how much he actually hated the cold. Still, he wasn't about to show weakness anymore than he already had. In the end he was a demon, after all, and with the species came certain pride. "J-just a bit... cold, is all."

To (attempt to) prove his point, he pushed himself to sit with trembling, frozen hands, and offered the girl a warm smile, although a weaker one than he had hoped to.

"I'm fine now, don't worry," he assured her, seeking her eyes with his own. Too bad his believability suffered quite a bit due to his uncontrollable shaking, the blueness of his usually tan skin and, above all else, the fact that right after he finished his sentence, he practically collapsed back onto his face on the snow, this time not about to wake up anytime soon.

[MurderVictim]

Frankie felt a little relieved when she heard him stir and speak. She sat back and pulled her hand away from his shoulder, wanting to give him room to get up once she realized that he was trying to do so. She smiled back, though she was clearly nervous and concerned, and was about to say something when he collapsed back into the snow. He fell so fast, that she couldn't even attempt to catch him or slow his descend. All traces of relief had vanished, and her heart nearly skipped a beat. She didn't bother to speak, only shaking his shoulder a couple more times before realizing that he was completely unconscious.

She chewed on her bottom lip and looked around, trying to see if - by some miracle - another person was coming her way. But that just wasn't her night. With a concerned sound, she shrugged off her jacket, despite the storm, and threw it over him. Immediately, the strong flurries of snow hit her exposed arms, but she brushed them away. She was half-way there. Her apartment was almost in sight. He needed the jacket more than her. She'd just have to get them both there before her own body gave out, then the both of them would be screwed.

Half an hour later, she was setting him down on the couch just as her rush of adrenaline gave out. Frankie took her jacket back and replaced it with an old, thick quilt from the back of the couch. She cranked up the heat for both of their sakes, and disappeared into the only bedroom just long enough to brush the snow from her uniform and change out of it. As soon as she was able, she made her way into the kitchen and put water on the stove to boil. As she was grabbing the box of tea bags, she peeked around the corner at her new guest. There wasn't much she could do for him then; all she really could do was keep an eye on him and hope hat he would wake up soon.

[Jester Acharis]

His next awakening was decidedly far more pleasant than the previous one'd been. For one, he didn't feel cold snow underneath his palm as he pushed himself to sit, and the wind that had so relentlessly tried to freeze his brain the last time was nowhere to be seen. It was warm. And not just because the temperature around him had gone up, either. He felt warm. Happy. Someone had come for him, after all! This was a yet another reason of why he liked human women. A demon would have never saved him, not without demanding half his power as compensation, at least.

The demon pushed away what little grogginess was left in his mind and slid himself of the couch he'd been sleeping on, silently and without much effort, before stretching rather theatrically. Aww, he was feeling awesome already. Now that the cold wasn't keeping him in check anymore, it didn't take long for all his power to return. His name returned as well, one he'd almost forgotten during his desperate struggle outside. Not that it helped him much, he couldn't exactly use it in the human world. He'd need a new one here, something that didn't scare away his savior. Hum...

Oh, wait, speaking of, where was his savior?

Blinking, the demon drew his face into a somewhat childish pout. Not waiting besides him until he woke up... She missed a chance to be romantic! Tsk. Then, in the kitchen? He heard noises from there. The demon nodded to himself with a smile and tiptoed to the door before peeking in. And indeed, there she was, focused on tea-making enough not to notice his approach. What a perfect opportunity.

Tiptoeing some more, the demon made his way behind her, keeping himself just a bit crouched so as to not cast a shadow over her. Grinning impishly, he stretched his fingers and, with one swift motion, wrapped his arms around her middle, practically jumping against her back as he shouted out a cheery, unexpected: "Moornin~, Sunshine!"

[MurderVictim]

In the kitchen, the young woman was concentrating on the kettle, waiting for it to whistle. What was normally a quick and easy task now seemed to take forever. Once she saw a large trail of steam float up from the kettle and heard the first few sounds of popping bubbles, she turned off the stove and reached for the mugs she had set up. Frankie had no idea that her guest had woken up. In all honesty, she wasn't expecting him to wake up for at least a couple hours. She figured his body needed time to get warm and recover enough for him pull himself back to consciousness.

She poured water into one of the mugs, and was about to do the same to the other when she was suddenly hugged from behind. It startled her so much that she jerked her arm, causing the stream of boiling hot water to fall onto her other hand that had been clutching the edge of the counter. She jumped at the burning sensation, yet had enough sense left in her to set the kettle down.

"What?" she asked in shock, holding her injured hand close to her chest as she turned around. It took her a moment to finally recognize who it was, conflicting her brain. She wanted to be angry about the burn, yet relieved that the man had woken up. At the moment, she was a little more focused on her burning hand. "Y-You're awake!" she said before pressing her tongue against part of the forming burn, instinctively trying to lessen the pain.

[Jester Acharis]

"I am~," the demon replied in a singy-sangy voice, hands behind his back and face occupied with a wide, somewhat catty grin at her reaction. The surprise in her voice and actions was endearing, just what he'd hoped to see. "Hee, I told you I was fine, didn't I? I'm kind of strong, see." He pointed at himself with both thumps, chest puffed as if to emphasize his point. "So, I g-"

Whatever words he was about to say got stuck on his tongue as he noticed the condition of the girl's hand. The glint in his eyes faded a bit, and although his smile still stayed, it wasn't as wide and certainly not as genuine as few seconds prior. And when he spoke, his voice wasn't kiddy. It was cold.

"You're hurt."

His blue eyes narrowed as he shot a glare at the kettle innocently sitting on the table. The thought that he was the true cause behind the burn didn't even cross his mind. It was the kettle that had burned her, so it was the kettle that had to pay. The demon took a step closer to the girl, and the second the tip of his shoe touched the floor, the kettle suddenly exploded into a thousand tiny shards. Yet, curiously, the shards and water sent flying around the room missed the girl and the demon entirely.

"Show me," the demon almost ordered from behind his smile, voice barely audible in the middle of the noise made by the shards ricocheting against walls and floor alike. Without waiting for an answer, he extended a hand to try and grab the girl's injured hand in his own for closer inspection. He didn't want his human broken this early on.

[MurderVictim]

The sudden change in attitude caught her a little off guard. "It's fine. Just a little burn," she said, pulling her hand away from her lips. "It happens all the time." And she wasn't lying. Working as a waitress meant she was constantly pouring hot coffee, and it wasn't unusual for some to accidentally land on her hand. It was something she was pretty much used to. Frankie was about to tell him that when the kettle fucking exploded.

The girl nearly had a heart attack. Her heart pounded against her chest, eyes wide as she flinched in fear of being hit by pieces of cheap metal and hot water. When neither touched her, she forced herself to calm down just a little. How the hell had that happened?! She was so busy thinking about what had just happened, that she didn't hear his desire to see her hand. It wasn't until he grabbed it that she snapped her attention back to him.

"I-It's fine!" She didn't bother to pull it away. Instead, she glanced at it, seeing how red and puffy the back of her hand already was.

[Jester Acharis]

"It's not fine," he argued simply as he pulled her hand under his gaze. Hm. From the looks of it, the injury wasn't all that serious after all - especially not when you considered the scale of injury the demon was used to. It wasn't considered a burn back home in Hell unless there was charred bone showing. But then, this was a human girl, and her species was known for being weak. For her, this injury definitely was something. Which made the mention of this 'happening all the time' all the more worrying. What'd she meant? Did she have an affinity for being attacked by kettles on a daily basis? That wasn't good. That called for intervention. He'd destroy all the kettles in the world if he had to. And pots, too. For good measure.

Regardless, seeing the relative harmlessness of the wound calmed the demon down some, and the look in his eyes relaxed somewhat. Still examining her hand, he bent forward and took the hand to his lips, taking some of the burned area in his mouth. He'd seen people do the same to fingers before. That, and licking the burn was what she'd done earlier from what he'd seen. Made sense, as that was generally what animals did to tend wounds as well. So, he went ahead and attempted the same, closing his eyes and slowly brushing his tongue across the burn a few times in hopes of seeing some results.

When he didn't, his face fell back into a pout and his earlier attitude was back in a snap.

"Awwwh..." he mumbled, wide, sad eyes back on the girl now, hand still in his mouth like he were a puppy holding a toy. "Dhon't dhink dhis ish whorking ath all!"

[MurderVictim]

Frankie only stood there, letting him look at her hand. When he put it in his mouth, she widened her eyes in surprise. The feel of someone else's saliva, especially someone she didn't even know the name of, didn't feel very pleasant...Even if it did help control the pain. She hesitated, still a little shaken from what had happened with the kettle. When he spoke, she couldn't help but smile just a little, thinking that what he was doing was nothing but a joke. "Eh. don't worry about it," she said as she gently removed her hand from his mouth. "I have some ointment in the bathroom cabinet. I'm sure it'll help," added, trying to remember if there was any left or not. "But thank you for the concern."

A little shaky, Frankie turned to the counter. The mug she had filled now had tea in it, as she had set the bag inside before pouring. Smiling, she carefully lifted it with her good hand and offered it to him. "Here, drink up while I fix my hand."

[Jester Acharis]

He straightened his back as she pulled her hand away, wiping at his mouth to clear the taste as he did. From what he saw of her hand, his remedy really hadn't done much to fix the burn; all he'd managed to do was get her hand wet. It was still red, and still looked painful. It was strange and just a bit... frustrating. Usually, when he got serious and attempted something, he succeeded. It hurt his pride when he didn't. Why did humans and animals do such a thing, if it was ineffective anyway? It didn't taste particularly good, and as a predator it had been kinda difficult not to bite on accident. Hm. Either way, he didn't have much trust in this ointment she mentioned now either. Perhaps humans just didn't know how to fix themselves.

They did, apparently, know how to make tea though.

Eyes growing bright from joy and his previous failure all forgotten in an instant, the demon clapped together his hands as he was offered a cup. It smelled good, and he didn't hesitate to take it and have a sip. After all, hot as it was, it wouldn't be able to burn him. Just knowledge of that made him proud all over again.

"Thank you~" He cheered, gulping down as if he hadn't devoured anything for days. And truthfully, he hadn't. The last few days had been... unpleasant. He preferred not to remember them. "And ah, if the 'ointment' thing doesn't help, we can stick your hand in the freezer! Or I can get some ice that doesn't melt. It's a bit of a pain to bring up, but..." the demon fell into though, thinking about the logistics of bringing such things on Earth. He'd never done it before, but he figured it was doable with enough preparation.

"Oh, and of course I'm concerned," he added after a while, a bit late on the uptake of what she'd said. "You saved me - and gave me tea. So now I'm forever indebted to you." Although his words sounded admittedly silly and his tone like someone not knowing what they were talking about, there was a hint of seriousness behind it all, and his eyes suggested he was very much set on keeping his word - unfortunately enough for the girl.

[MurderVictim]

Frankie smiled when he took the tea, once again relieved that he was up and coherent. There was so much that she had feared for him, like frostbite and illness, even death considering she had no idea what kind of medical problems he might have. She was glad that none seemed to have occurred, though she was still considering taking him to the hospital to get checked out as soon as the storm passed over. Speaking of which, she was reminded of the waves of wind and snow crashing against the nearby window. A shiver went up her spine at the idea of still being out there, braving the terrible weather.

Her brain snapped back to reality, and her burned hand, at the mention of ice. She didn't seem to catch the "doesn't melt" part, more focused on getting the pain and swelling to go down. "Ah, I forgot about it! Good idea!" She grinned and began making her way towards the bathroom. "And don't worry about it. Any decent person would have helped you out," she said with a genuine smile, not noticing the hint of seriousness in his tone. "I was just the first person to find you."

Frankie came out of the bathroom moments later, spreading a glob of aloe vera on her burn. She cringed a little until the cooing sensation came over her, and she relaxed. "Much better," she said, more to herself than to him. She grabbed a small ice pack from the freezer and a dish towel, wrapping the pack before placing in on her hand.

"So what's your name, anyway? I'm Francis, but everyone calls me Frankie."

[Jester Acharis]

The demon followed the girl with his gaze as she moved about, fixing her hand. He was honestly curious as to her methods, and couldn't help but stretch his neck just a tad when he saw her spread something on her hand - something that, surprisingly enough, seemed to be actually effective, at least according to the girl herself. How curious. The substance looked strange to the demon, and its texture kind of reminded him of some of the creatures back home. Hm. Maybe he should catch a few and bottle them up for her? It could be a good 'thank you' gift.

She had brushed off the rescue as something anyone would have done, but the demon couldn't help but shake his head at that. "Not anyone," he commented with another headshake and a frown. "Most people I know would have left me there to rot." Of course, 'most people he knew' were not people at all but demons. But, hey. Details, schmetails.

His smile widened as she offered her name. Frankie? He couldn't recall having heard that particular human name before, but it wasn't bad. It fit her. And in either case, now his human had a name! And he... still didn't. Oh. Right, he had never taken the time to come up with one, and here she was, asking for it. Uh, well...

"Don't have oone~" the demon piped up honestly, eyes wide and shoulders raised into a theatrical shrug, mug still in hand. "So, you can gimme one! You picked me up from the street, so that's just normal, right? Since I'm yours now!" He said all of this with not the slightest hint of jest in his voice and with a smile that was nothing short of genuine. It was clear that, happy as he was, he wasn't kidding.

[MurderVictim]

As he spoke, Frankie lifted the ice pack and shifted it a little so it was in a more effective area. She leaned against the wall, still trying to ignore the mess that used to be her kettle all over the kitchen floor. "You want me to give you a name," she questioned, glancing up before lifting her head to look at him. She was confused at first, then a small smile spread along her face. Oh, okay. She'd play along with him! He didn't sound like he was kidding, but surely it was just a joke!

"Hmm..." Frankie let her gaze trail around the counters, then up at the cabinets while she tried to think of a good name. "Hm, well. I've always really liked the name Orson," she admitted, then brought her attention back to her guest. "Does that work for you?"

[Jester Acharis]

The confusion the girl had shown for a moment had almost pulled the smile from the demon's face, but once she smiled, it returned twice as wide. He knew she'd be happy to give him one! And once she did, nothing would separate them anymore. Hmm, now he just needed to find a sleeping place in this house, since it was to be his home as well. The sofa had been exceptionally comfortable... he wouldn't mind sleeping there. Oh, and once he got his name, he'd need to add it to the mailbox and door! And get his stuff move in. He was already getting all kiddy over this!

The demon leaned in, expectant, excited, as he waited for the girl to come up with a name. If he'd been in his demon form and still had his tail, he would have surely wagged it - and probably destroyed half the decor. Hm. In the end, the girl finally came up with a name, "Orson". It wasn't one the demon had ever heard before, but it sounded like a unique strong name. He liked it. He especially liked it since it was given by her and all. So, the demon closed his eyes and grinned, pouncing into another bone-crushing hug.

"Yes, it's perfect!" He exclaimed, happy. "So from now on, this is Frankie and Orson's house~ I promise to protect it the best I can!" His voice drew into a quiet mumble as he continued: "Starting from those pesky salesmen..." He glanced back up, all smiled and happiness again. "So don't worry 'bout a thing, okay~?"

[MurderVictim]

Frankie smiled when she saw that he liked the name. She had never really met a guy like him before - maybe this was just his way of picking up women. If it was, he was certainly succeeding. When he hugged her, she was a little too surprised to hug back. Both from how strongly he held her, and at what he said. "Oh, uh...You want to stay here?" she shakily asked. "I mean, I don't mind you staying another night or two to be sure that you're okay and all, but are you sure you want to live here?" For a moment, she was wondering if she had heard him correctly. She had been thinking of getting a roommate, yes, but not like this. And not this sudden. Still, she didn't have the heart to tell him no. He was so happy about everything, all she could do was hope he would have second thoughts and decline the chance to live in her apartment.