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That smile of Eilas' was creepy as hell. Jaxen had his own slippery smile that he whipped out at opportune moments, but Elias's pearly whites were figuratively tinged red with the taste of blood. Other than that, and having zero clue about how to talk to women, if Elias really did what Sierra boasted, he was someone to stay on their good side. Jaxen recalled the sense of power that reared its ugly, yet sublime, head back at the river. Tarin said they would keep getting stronger until they simply stopped one day. Jaxen hoped Elias had reached that point, because if not, he shuddered to imagine how much more ominious their powers would grow.
By then their conversation had not gone unnoticed by Stanislav whose suspicion deepened the crevices of his wrinkles into craters. His voice rumbled a warning. "Best contain talk like that around people you don't know." His gaze flicked to Jaxen like the Marveet son was included, perhaps most especially. Jaxen's expression was a flat mirror, but he didn't argue.
The line of cars turned from the highway into an opulent area of Moscow. These were the former palaces of Russian nobility now private compounds for the rich and powerful. The gates in front of one parted and the car rounded a wide drive circling around a massive statue of a man on a rearing horse. Jaxen sighed as he looked at the front doors. He remembered lining up with his (half) siblings from oldest to youngest in front of those steps for pictures.
His gaze broke away and looked to his traveling companions as they began to file out of the vehicle. "I'm sure someone will take you anywhere you want to go."
Doubtful it would be their current driver, but there was always someone hanging about to taxi people around the city. Stanislav was apparently not impressed by the speed at which Jaxen was jumping from the car, and he whipped open the door from the outside even as Jaxen's hand rested on the handle. The towering entrance of the house looming behind his father's right-hand-man parted and Jaxen tilted, guessing who would be the one emerging. His breath caught, surprised, when the figure revealed was a dark-haired, curvacious beauty with a face of pale marble. His mother.
He slid around Stanislav, forgetting Sierra and Elias for the moment and waited by the car as his mother navigated the granite steps in painfully high stilettos. She pulled him to her shoulder and squeezed tight, but the tension in her arms prepared Jaxen for the slap to the head sure to come next.
"So?" said Loki impatiently. "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
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The man that picked up Jaxen and seemed like some sort of head of security body guard type warned them about their discussion as if they'd not just spent several hours witnessing weird happen. But he was right, she didn't know them from a hole in the wall - though if he was security she was sure HE understood to keep his mouth shut when his charge was concerned.
Sierra didn't know how powerful the Marveets were, she knew little of politics or the CCD in general despite being part of it her whole life. But bunkers were poor outlets of media. Sierra sighed at her own inner thoughts.
But soon they were in Moscow proper, inside the ritzy and elite houses that were the center of the Moscow privileged folks. Sierra tried not to stare out the window in awe. But everything was so rich and expensive, she could only dream of that. Actually.... she could do more than dream of it, she could walk into any one of their houses at any time if she so desired - in the dream of course. It brought a smile to her lips.
Jaxen offered them a ride anywhere they wanted. It wasn't so much an offer as a statement of fact. Sierra wasn't going to be indebted to the man for yet another ride. Whatever debt he owed her was done. Warmth for even a few minutes was worth helping him stay alive. Cold was not foreign to her, she'd survived worse.
But she didn't get a chance to say anything before a lithe woman in too high heeled shoes waltz her way to the half frozen man - though he looked a billion times better than he had when she'd first met him.
Sierra didn't want to interrupt but she wanted to go before this became more uncomfortable than it already was. This did not look like a happy reunion.
She put on her best smile but didn't look up to meet anyone's eyes as she spoke. Her golden eyes she hoped to hide just a little while longer. "Thank you..."
Sierra stumbled with words, looking for the proper name to use to not inflict too much damage or look like she was lesser, Sierra opted to leave it alone altogether. "Thank you for the ride back to Moscow. I won't be needing a ride, I don't know where I'm going yet anyway."
She smiled at Jaxen, "Don't get caught out in the snow again without any clothes. I would hate to see that shade of blue again."
Sierra nodded politely and hoped they would let her go without a fuss.
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Sierra lectured him like he was some blessed child of God wasting away his divine gifts. Elias wasn't ignorant. He realized the enormity of what it meant to transform water to ice by mere thought. Walking on water. But the enormity was eclipsed by the normalcy of the feat. It was as regular as breathing. He only shrugged. If saving a drowning girl, and her dog, wasn't enough of a heroic feat, perhaps Elias simply wasn't the hero Sierra longed to find.
The vehicle turned and Jaxen had his first glimpse of the view from the top of the mountain. His eyes were unblinking, wide as the surveyed the modern palace spread out before them. But this house did not welcome them with open arms. The land was enclosed with gates and trees. The bodies of bulky, suited men surrounded the vehicles, intimidating by presence alone. Or so they thought.
Elias climbed from the car imagining the Russian's warning. Tony suggested as much, but again, Elias' reaction was to shrug. His expression fell deadpan while they waited. In the spirit of inconspicuousness, he wouldn't let Jaxen's people take him directly back to Tony's, but somewhere in the area would suffice. That was the plan until what was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman, older yes, but breathtaking in her glory, bounded into Jaxen's arms.
Sierra was homely and boring in comparison to this glamorous creature. Her shoes likely cost more than a year's salary in the Donovan household. Even as he gazed upon her, bitterness clenched the back of his throat. Jaxen was one lucky bastard, and he didn't even seem happy to be home.
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For Irina, the only thing she observed was the unmarred face of her youngest child. Soon, the wide flare of her eyes narrowed, and Jaxen flinched in response. She had been given little information on the specifics of his recovery, only that he had made contact, was in distress, and needed extraction from whereever in the countryside he emerged. "Are you well?"
She asked of him, laying her hands on his shoulders as though she wasn't quite sure she was going to believe him regardless of what he said.
Jaxen's half smile was sincere, but lacked the usual gilding he used as distraction. "Yes I am fine."
He did manage to slither out of his mother's grasp but only to divert her attention elsewhere. "Thanks to them,"
he gestured at Sierra and Elias. It had been Elyse's things that kept him warm, though, but he didn't add in that little detail. His mother always found it insanely adorable when he paraded around in her "dress up" clothes as a toddler. There was no point dredging up those memories.
"Sierra and Elias,"
he began, "this is my mother, Irina Marveet."
She had never changed her surname after the divorce, claiming that she would maintain the last name of her children until she died. Despite the fact she had gone on to be remarried and divorced twice more since then.
Irina's gaze surveyed the two that her son claimed responsibility for his safety. "For my son to gloat on you means you did something extraordinary. Please stay for a while. You must be hungry, or at least need a freshening up."
Her heavily made up eyes fell onto Sierra in particular in that moment, but like her son, she diffused any hint of snobbery with a glittering smile. "And it will give you time to think about where you want to go next."
So she had been listening after all.
She laid her hand on Jaxen's arm, "Enough standing around outside. Let's go indoors."
Jaxen complied, glancing at the two to see if they would follow, but when his mother leaned to whisper something into his ear, he snapped back, paling as he swallowed his words. Your father's waiting.
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Sep 10 2015, 09:24 PM.
"So?" said Loki impatiently. "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
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Sierra squirmed under the scrutiny of the woman before her. Mothers all had that bearing about them when their children were in question. And the slight look that she was 'under dressed' made the invitation even worse.
Sierra was torn. Torn between escaping quickly from the glittering horde of the rich elite and seeing what lay inside the grand house before her. She'd never been inside something so lush with riches. And Jaxen's mother was right, proper heat, a real sink to wash in, and some time to decide where to go was really the right thing to do.
Sierra nodded her acceptance. She truly needed to buy another pair of colored contacts, her golden eyes made her already quiet nature look even worse - submissive. And submissive among wolves was not a good thing. And here these glittering wolves with all their fancy clothes, high end cars were far worse than any wolf Sierra had ever met.
With that in mind Sierra found the courage to follow behind the mother son pair, "Thank you for the invitation, I can hardly refuse."
She could but she wouldn't. Real cooked food and warmth were far greater temptation than seeing inside the glamour of the rich and famous.
But Sierra wasn't sure this was as good of an idea as she'd thought moments before when Jaxen's mother leaned in and Sierra caught a distinct scent of discord drifting her direction from the rescued man before them.
Sierra wondered what Elias' decision would be. Would they remain a trio? or was she going into the wolves den alone? It was odd how comforting two complete strangers could be when the situation shifted to a new paradigm. No matter his decision, her's had been made and she'd follow through. Sierra just kept reminding herself, these were just different pack of wolves that will eat you for dinner if you show weakness.
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Elias silently watched the mother-son pair. Irina was fully as opposite as a woman could be from his own mother. He had thought of her, and the rest of his family, multiple times over the past week of hiking. It was family after all that sent him to the other side of the world, or at least they were the excuse for his living in New Zealand. With solitude came contemplation. Irina's doting over Jaxen conjured memories of his own mother. He'd been away from Kenab long enough to know he'd never go back even should the mystery of his uncle's death be solved. He would physically be crushed by the terrain, and any mental endurance he possessed would erode until snapping and blindly destroy entire towns in the blink of an eye. Best for everyone to stay out of Kenab, although so far, Moscow was not proving to be much better. The old ailments crept along the cage of his chest, squeezing like asthma even in the dead of winter. Breathing was a conscious effort some days.
Out of curiosity, cold and boredom he agreed to go inside. Bag slung on his shoulder, he glanced down at Sierra as he joined her side. "Feeling inadequate right about now?"
He asked her with a dry smirk. Besides, he was interested in meeting the person who could possibly make Jaxen pale in fear. Not to mention seeing life on the other side of the tracks.
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After the revolution, properties that belonged to Imperial Russia were confiscated by the new government. The estates were stripped of everything of value, the obvious trinkets and art, but even the gold-threaded wallpaper stretched across vast walls. The palaces, homes, and gardens of the former aristocracy were given to the public. Schools, housing, hospitals. Or such was the idea while the imperial families whithered into nothingness. Almost all of these properties, excluding the most prestigious of museums, fell into ruin. After the Ascendancy returned to the Kremlin and opened the doors to grandiose affluence, the example spread. Men like Jaxen's father, members of the nouveau riche, claimed the right to follow in those footsteps. Twenty, thirty years ago they began to buy up the ancient properties that were once the stomping grounds of the powers of a mighty empire.
Jaxen held his mother's arm as they were greeted by such luxury. He grit his teeth through the conflict turning his stomach to knots. Home was an abstract concept. A great foyer slicked with marble swallowed them whole. Jaxen's gaze was fixed forward, however. Elias and Sierra were left to fend for themselves in those moments. It was his mother's patting his arm, and her slim smile, that broke the trance. What struggle shook his conscious was never within reach of interpretation. It was a sense. A chill across the back of his neck. For no apparent reason. Jaxen wallowed in wealth. He was anxious to change into his own clothes. To wear his own shoes. Take a luxuriously hot shower. This wasn't the moment to focus on contrary prejudices. He needed an explanation for the last three months. And needed one fast.
Well. Jax could talk himself out of anything. The last time this kind of confrontation arose he barely escaped military school. But escape he did. His father would never actually flay him alive. Not with his mother around anyway. Or that's what Jax told himself as they passed through a refurbished ballroom and into the adjoining library. Irina swept around a series of tufted leather couches and pointed out places for her guests to sit.
"I think I'll go change clothes."
His favorite stuff was in his own house downtown, but there were options here as well.
Irina shook her head. "I'd not keep him waiting."
She advised. Jaxen frowned and glanced at Elias and Sierra. They stuck out in the room like pockmarks on a supermodel's face.
He swung his gaze back to his mother, considering her a moment. "He can fucking wait."
Jax said. "I'll be back soon."
He left to find a shower and change of clothes.
Irina's slim smile gave away nothing of her thoughts, but the gleam in her eye found her son's defiance unsurprising. Without missing a beat, she turned to her guests. "Wine? Cappuccino? What would you like?"
She waved a hand and embraced a sensor on a side table requesting a variety of food and drink that should suffice the pickiest of eaters.
As she sat, she crossed her legs and draped her arms along the ridge of the sofa curling behind her. "So how did you come to meet my son? Other than the mysterious 'saving of his life' story that he mentioned."
Her inquiry was innocent, but the point in her gaze upon theirs suggested intrusion. If she was disturbed by Sierra's golden irises, she didn't blink from their glare.
With Irina Marveet
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Sep 19 2015, 05:50 PM.
"So?" said Loki impatiently. "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
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Elias stepped in beside her with a comment about her adequacy. Sierra responded "Don't you?"
But she regretted it the moment she did. While it was not admitting weakness to the rich and snobby she was to this man. A man who was already an enigma. "Oh right. Nothing phases you."
Sierra tried to lessen the bite with a smile. "Sorry. That was me being angry with myself, not really trying to insult you."
They had to stick together in the lion's den. Yes, more like lions then wolves. Maybe...
Inside was no comparison to the outside as they followed the rich and elite into their foyer. The marble alone probably cost more than what Sierra would ever see in her life time three times over. She tried to keep from showing her awe. But it was likely to have failed even as she continually watched the floor and avoided eye contact of those around her.
Such a waste of money. But Sierra supposed they had it to blow on all these fancy things. Misses Marveet, that didn't even sound right in her head, Sierra thought, maybe Lady Marveet or something far more grand but Misses just seemed so dull for the woman watching her son leave. Jaxen smelled of many emotions and Sierra was confused by some and didn't blame him for others.
Jaxen's mother offered told them where to sit and Sierra obliged as if she had been ordered, the room was epic in comparison to herself and she felt completely out of place. The glittering woman offered them something to drink. Tea sounded fabulous something hot. Sierra surprised herself when there was no hesitation in her reply, "Tea, please."
The place was expensive and Sierra's own inadequacies as Elias put it started making her close in on herself, but the question of how they'd met brought Sierra's eyes up to meet the other woman's. Sierra smiled softly, "We all just met today."
Sierra wasn't exactly sure how much she should say without Jaxen present it was his story after all. "Elias and I were discussing the proper etiquette of garbage in the wilderness."
She smiled at Elias they weren't exactly discussing things they'd been about to have an argument if it were not for Jaxen's cold naked body stepping out of the woods. "You son just happened out of the near by woods - cold and in need of better outer wear."
The slight coloring of her face, she hoped it was only slight, would likely indicate the extent of his need. "We all did our best to help. I am glad he is home safe now."
Sierra closed her mouth slowly she realized she was rambling... it happened when she was nervous. She choose to sip at the tea she was given and hoped Elias would say something soon.
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Sierra's apology tugged the corners of his mouth. "Did you say something insulting?"
He asked in return without waiting for an answer. She was right. Little bothered him, but he was not immune to anger, even fury. Fortunately for her sake, riling it took a lot more than Sierra thought.
Otherwise, he was occupied by considering Jaxen's parents' house. It was more like a palace, Elias thought grimly. This was the kind of thing seen in movies not where real people resided. All his siblings and two parents occupied a three-bedroom, two-bath house in Kenab. In New Zealand he stayed with his uncle and enjoyed his very own bedroom for the first time in his life and felt like royalty. As he and Sierra followed Jaxen and his mother, he certainly found Irina to belong here. Jaxen, in the borrowed clothes and scowl, seemed slightly out of phase in an interesting way. The impression only strengthened when he dismissed his mother's suggestion to blow off seeing someone else. Elias guessed it was his father who would be left waiting. Elias wouldn't mind meeting the man whose impression pressed upon the air even in his absence.
He sat on one of the sofas and let out a sigh. After a week outside, the seat felt like butter. Distracted by the luxury, Sierra answered Irina's question first, and when her eyes shifted to Elias, he had little to add. "He was understandably cold, completely naked and shivering. After the girls recovered from the sight,"
Elias glanced at Sierra to see if she would blush. "They wrapped him up and I got a fire going until they showed up to get him. He offered us a ride back to the city."
In that line of thought, Elias unbuttoned his coat and considered draping it across the bag at his feet, but was far too comfortable to bother getting up.
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With Irina Marveet
Irina was amused by the way the two kids interacted. The quiet looks slung back and forth. The subtle jabs at each other. They were cute in a nostalgic kind of way. What was said, though, struck her attention surprised.
"You mean to say he was stumbling through the woods naked as the day he was born?"
She let her head hang back and laughed at the ceiling. "That sounds like my Jaxen. Any idea what he was doing out there?"
----
Jaxen wound his way toward the nearest staircase. All seven of his various siblings (and half-siblings) were here often enough to keep a stash of clothes around. Fortunately, that was often enough to stay with the trends of the season. He himself was longing for a more comfortable pair of pants. The ones Stanislav brought were far too baggy around the thigh and calf. While they fit close enough in the waist, he was sure they were about to fall off. Not to mention the horrible things they did to the shape of his otherwise sweet ass.
Reaching the second level, he heard footsteps hurry up behind him. He quickly ducked into the nearest room, which happened to be a bedroom that wasn't his. Or the one he claimed as his. He left the door open a crack and watched from hidden angle as Stanislav hurried by. No doubt going in search of Jaxen.
He twiddled his fingers, thinking through options. There was a bathroom attached to this bedroom as each had their own, but there would be nothing but a towel to wear around afterward if he showered in it. Ah well. What were they going to do? Drag him down to his father in a bathrobe? It was worth the risk, and better than showing up looking like the hell he did now.
He peeled the shirt off his head, dropped it on the floor and headed toward the bathroom.
"So?" said Loki impatiently. "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
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