The Voodoo Queen of Greater Moscow

[Xander]

Xander tried not to growl. But he knew this woman grated on him and hiding that was becoming difficult even with the knowledge that his anger affected Asha. But Rowan was being stupid. "If I have or haven't is of little consequence. You are reckless and careless and you invite ..."

The doors burst open and Mik returned with the pair from the cards. Whoopdy fucking do, Xander thought to himself as he stared after the two coming in. They might have been the most beautiful people in the world, but their aura's were tinged with black. Everywhere, it was like walking death. He was a fucking snake, he saw it in the images that floated about him. Xander didn't know what she was. But her's was as black as his. The images were different - so fucking different.

Xander blinked as he stared openly at the pair behind Mik. His hand tightened around Asha's and he had nothing but motivation to move. She had just invited a snake into their mist. For all that Xander wanted to leave immediately he was frozen in place. His ass glued to the seat, his hand entwined around the empaths and he wondered what exactly she felt. He wanted to verbalize the fear coursing through his veins but he hoped he didn't have to. Fuck!

He couldn't move. He just stared. Leaving could mean more than staying. And playing it cool was no longer an option... Xander needed a plan...

[Rowan Finnegan]

Tobias started blabbering on again, calling her reckless and careless; no doubt he had more admonishments on his tongue, but the ever vivacious Mikhail had finally come back to the suite with two guests in tow. A regal, older gentleman and the most peculiar female on his arm. The man looked like the type to hire out escorts to fill his otherwise boring night, although the woman did not look the type. This woman looked interesting, to say the least. Clearly, someone that had grown up idolizing witches or other women of the Moon… Someone Rowan would be friends with.

                Mik gave Rowan a deep kiss, leaving her hungry for more. He wouldn’t have the whole buffet anytime soon, but he certainly knew how to push her buttons. Perhaps she’d let him have a few free samples after this little soiree, but that was a thought for later. Rowan had virtue and self-respect to maintain, despite the kisses and ass grabs, she wouldn’t be indulging Mikhail too deeply in front of their guests… Still… She thought of having one of the help prepare her bedroom for the ‘nightcap.’

                She was getting ahead of herself.

                Tobias and Asha’s moods took a visible swing in the wrong direction at the entrance of the two newcomers. Curious.

                Rowan walked up to the two as they entered the suite; tarot cards in one hand, she used the other to pull her long maxi-dress into a deep curtsy, inclining her head in the process. True, it was a grand gesture, but something about these two made Rowan think that they might prefer a ‘courtly greeting.’ It was all in the air in which they carried themselves.

                “Ah, as Mikhail so eloquently put, my name is Rowan Finnegan, Voodoo Queen of Greater Moscow,” She spoke in Russian with a smooth tongue and perfect accent, “Welcome to The Bottom of the Cup Café. I have a… sixth sense, shall we say? And it told me that two very interesting people have stumbled into my humble establishment… Appears that my third eye was right?”

                Rowan raised her head and looked upon the older gentleman. She made eye contact with him and almost immediately she found her entire body covered in goosebumps, the sounds of slaughter, screams, and maniacal laughter filled her head. This man could conjure magic; the ethereal sounds in her head confirming that. Powerful too. Rowan swayed on the spot.

                The tarot cards slipped from her hand as her body wobbled; 78 cards tumbling into the air and beginning to swirl around the three of them. The divination tool had begun to act upon its own accord, Rowan not using any type of magic to make them behave so. It was the first time they had reacted that way and she found herself gazing upon them with shock.

                For the first time in her life, Rowan was speechless.

                Twirling and swirling, the cards danced in a sort of counter-clockwise orbit, their faces turned away from her. Faster and faster they spun, almost making Rowan sick to look upon them. Her mouth hung open in fascination at the display.

                A loud clap sounded in the room as 72 cards dropped unceremoniously to the ground. 3 cards floated before the man, and 3 more before the woman.

                “Auspicious… The cards are acting on their own… They have never… Two very important people it seems…”

                With a pass of her hand, Rowan turned the man’s cards to face her with a flow of Air.

                “The Chariot, The Devil, and The Emperor…” Rowan gasped, “Bleek darkness clouds your path, sir. A strong will and determination over your convictions. A solid foundation and domineering authority will serve you well…The future remains in your control so long as you keep a tight fist on the events presented to you… Curious. You can Channel of course… But that darkness. Be careful. The future is ever changing. It seems fate does not know what to do with you.”

                Rowan shivered despite herself before turning to the woman. She heard nothing when gazing upon this other, interesting figure. Even though Rowan was divining, she found herself wishing to go shopping with this woman, or perhaps even calling the Quarters. If her outfit was to be any judge, they would have a lot in common. Rowan adjusted the fringed shawl at the crook of her elbows before casting another spell of Air to spin the cards.

                “Temperance, Death, and The High Priestess… You are at the precipice of change, my dear lady; Moderation would serve you well in the days to come… Patience as well… Things are not as they appear. Find your own truth, for everything in your life is now changing. Find your inner truth… Find that which you will fight for… Intuition and the Sacred Mysteries will serve you well on your path, although I feel that you may be privy to secrets that others would kill for… Indeed, I feel a kinship with you. Can you read the cards as well? Or perhaps you divine the future through other methods?”

                Curious indeed.

                The 6 cards dropped unceremoniously to the ground as Rowan finished her reading.

                Rowan spun Air about at her feet by tracing out a Veve in the air with her finger. The 78 cards swirling again from the ground and sorted themselves into her outstretched left hand, Air pulling her joint from the table and back into her right hand. Rowan took a long puff of the thing before offering it to the two new guests.

                She cocked an eyebrow at the pair and asked, “Two very interesting readings for two very interesting looking people. Might I ask your names? And whether or not I can offer refreshments or food? As you can see, I have quite the spread set up and a full drink cart free of charge. We believe in taking care of our patrons here at the Bottom of the Cup café. Anything in the world you want is yours… Within reason, of course. I have money and magic, but even I can only do so much.”

                Rowan smiled sweetly at the pair, batting doe eyes at them.

[Ashavari]

Tell me how I can help. “You are,” she murmured, though it was a half truth; he was certainly trying, and in such a tumultuous room even traces of his chagrin were preferable to the alternative. And at least he was stable; the other two popped in and out constantly as they used their magic, a constant and unsettling flux. That and the barrage of questions she had no way of answering. What monsters should Mik be afraid of? Asha had shared as much as she really knew, bar Aria's journals. But words weren't going to make any difference here. Neither of them believed, and neither of them would, whatever she or Tobias said. So she only offered a shrug to the question.

Rowan named her an empath and she didn't deny it, though it was not quite so simple either. Empath suggest an understanding, not the vortex of emotion that so often swept her up and left her to the mercy of others. She didn't doubt Rowan’s well meaning, but right now the woman's company was exhausting. Tobias's frustrations rolled in thick whenever she spoke. And she spoke a lot.

She weathered the arguing, tuning out the churn of words, until Mik returned with the promised company. Weary walls in place she still glanced up curious, until the moment Tobias's grip tightened. She felt her own heart begin to race with the seeping fear, not knowing exactly why but trusting of his instincts. Given the previous topic of conversation she had some ideas, and couldn't quite keep the horror from her expression. Her eyes blinked back to him as Rowan stood to greet her new guests. Do we leave? Both Rowan and Mik knew what they were, and neither had the sense for caution. Unintentional betrayal was still betrayal. Neither she nor Tobias had the means with which to protect themselves.

[Valeriya]

Valeriya had the sense of descending into smoke trapped by a cavern. The air wasn’t all that heavy, but it was thick with scents curling her nostrils with pleasantries of the refined. Queen though she was, Valeriya was overcome with the jagged edges of a cave spike surrounded by smooth water pebbles. Not often was she touched with a twinge of jealousy for the souls of the Above, as she truly believed the Khylsty were saved by Father Rasputin’s secreting them Below. But a bony hand gripped her heart when she beheld Rowan and her companions. There was little time to think on the surprising emotion before the cards began to dance.

Valeriya was enraptured by their movements. Twirling so fast her eyes could hardly track them. When they came to a halt, three hovered. Vale ripped their pictures apart with her eyes like an Oni shredded its meat at a meal. Odd things were spoken about herself and Armande. A divination, she realized. Rowan was an oracle of old, proclaiming that which seeming random signs wanted to reveal. A toothy smile pulled at the corners of her lips. When Vale swept herself forward, it was to offer a hand like Rowan might kiss her knuckles. She didn’t expect it however, having learned enough habits of the Above to understand her majesty was not known by all. Not yet, anyway.

“I am Valeriya, the Eye of the Khylsty,” her speech was slow, the accent antique, title partnered to Rowan's own divine claim. Some of the things Rowan spoke were not completely comprehended, but Vale followed well enough to grasp the picture. She did not peel her eyes from the fascinating woman as she folded herself into a seat like it was her throne for the day. “More of your food and your drink.” She tempered the demand with a smoky smile. “And to learn more of the land of your home. What do you call it?” Finally, she swept her emerald gaze to the others in Rowan’s circle as though they all hailed from afar.

The Eye beheld greenery then, but not the plush forest of Armande's destiny. This was something thick and tangled, choking and dangerous. Water stirred and jaws snapped, bugs crawled and vines swang. Skeletons floated on gray waters. Window coverings flapping on hot winds. A dark-skinned people strolled dusty streets. A child girl chasing a boy; one laughing, the other squealing. 

She blinked through the vision, hungry for a name to put with the place. For now, Rowan's interpretation of Valeriya's own character was unacknowledged.

[Armande]

Armande's jaw clenched and he barely stifled a growl in his chest. He couldn't help the flaring of his nostrils or the fact that his eyes blazed blue flames at the casual use of the power, as though it were nothing. Red filmed his head as the cards spun about until three cards hung before him, the woman's voice reduced to a buzzing as his mind fogged with emotion. The power very nearly touched him and his stomach turned.

The arrogance in this room was so thick he almost choked on it, as visible as the marijuana smoke that hovered in the air. The other two did not appear to be partaking but he was willing to bet they already had a contact high.

The arrogance of these gods, these men and women who believed themselves better than any of them. These two were young, but Brandon was not. And Brandon had arrogated power to himself long ago, assumed his position when both of them were still in their early 20s. It was no accident they had been born at the same time, in the same year.

The power of the gods would call to them, seduce them with its promises, with its opportunities. People would stand in awe of them. This woman called herself a Voodoo Queen. By what right!?! None but her power. None but her overweening pride. Oh yes, if not now, then soon enough. Everything theirs by divine right. The beginning of the end.

The back of Valeriya's head was not spared his fiery gaze as she strode forward, as if embracing the woman as a friend, an equal, sitting and demanding food and drink be brought to her, heedless of the danger they faced. A child. She was a child. He needed to teach her....somehow.

For now, though, he closed his eyes and meditated, though he felt the boy's eyes on him as he lazily sipped at his drink, cigarette dangling from his fingers. This is a war. This is not a battle. The mantra repeated and gradually his rage diminished from boiling to merely simmering.

He went to stand next to Valeriya's seat as more food and drink presented themselves. Armande studied the room, thinking. Curiosity got the better of him. "May I ask, Voodoo Queen." The term was filled with mockery. "How many people have you killed with your power? And why?" His gaze swung to the boy, daring him. "Or you?" He paused, pursing his lips. "I am curious as to how someone with power feels about the rest of us."

[Mikhail]

So Mik seriously didn't like the guy. Like not even a bit. Stood like he had a rod up his ass and glared around the room, all fire and brimstone. Oh yeah. Guy needed to be taken down a peg or three. There was scorn there and when he locked onto Mik's eyes, he had to force himself to not look away, not until the man broke the look by going to stand behind his chicky.

And you know what? That fucking pissed him off. All of it. Like seriously. Including, he admitted, his own reaction. Relax Mik. The guy's a pussy. He's afraid of you. You saw how he seemed to flinch at the fire. At Rowan's card tricks.

Chicky- no, I guess it's Valeriya now- was seated as if on a throne. Definitely arrogant, but smokin for alla that. Toothy smile that looked like she might enjoy ripping someone's throat out. Though he'd enjoy those nails at his throat. Or clawing his back.

And she called herself the Eye of something. The Kleenex maybe? Not like it mattered, of course. He had just been needling them by calling Rowan the Voodoo Queen. Hahahaha. And Rowan ate it up, hook, line and sinker.

Fortuna giggled at him. Bitch. Still, the game was afoot, what with Tobias and Asha holding hands and looking afraid or gobsmacked in the face.

So when Old Man River asked his question, Mik decided on a little fun. Flames danced across his fingertips, jumping from finger to finger whiles others bounced around the Oldilocks and his lady friend who was really far too young and hawt to be with a guy like him. He wasn't gonna burn em. Nah. Rowan wouldn't like that and he still was planning on getting into her pants tonight. Well her dress, anyway. Hahaha! Well certainly not wearing it! Whatever.

Anyway, he just wanted to see a flinch.

Innocently he answered, watching the flames on his fingers. "A few. Mostly people who needed dying." He met the man's eyes. "You know..." giving him an insolent smirk, eyebrow raised at the hint.

[Xander]

There was no time for a plan. The powers started to be used as if they wanted to say 'here I am'. Images swirled around both Rowan and Mik. The woman pronounced herself some sort of queen and images swam in her aura. The man's aura grew angry. The fury made Xander spin. His head throbbed. His vision blurred.

This is why he hated people - why he avoided all the special people in the world. Why he avoided the snakes. Fuck!

Xander stood up quickly almost toppling back over from the nausea that threatened his stomach. What little the pot had done was gone in that blink. "I need air." he stammered before he headed for the door. He didn't care where but he needed air - someplace free of all this...

[Rowan Finnegan]

The majestic woman was all regal air, sweeping into the room like she owned the building. Normally Rowan didn’t care much for others presuming too much, but there was something about this Valeriya. She had her own title too, of course, one Rowan had never heard of in her life. Perhaps the dark lady would divulge some more information if probed properly… Rowan had assumed the same of her other guests, but they didn’t say much besides warnings against the Atharim, and the same old warnings to boot. Nothing interesting at all… But this Valeriya… She had a story to tell, Rowan could feel it.

                With a quick call on her intercom, Rowan called for another cart of food and drink to be sent up. Although she didn’t need to, there was an urge to show off a little for the new guests, particularly Valeriya. With a few quick, writhing steps and a couple swings of her arms, Rowan chanted out a call to Papa Legba in the Creole tongue. Strands of Air sprung up and wrapped around a few plates from the cart in the room.

                Crawfish etouffee, chicken gumbo with rice, King Cake with its glittering sprinkles and custard, a large cup of chickory coffee, a bloody mary stacked with garnishes, and a few other delectable treats floated on over and settled down onto the table in front of Valeriya. Rowan clapped her hands before settling down onto the couch across from the woman.

                “Enjoy, my lady, please, if there’s anything else… Ah, yes… My land? I hail from New Orleans, a large, haunted city in the United States; you must simply visit if you ever have the chance. Witchcraft, ghosts, swamps and ancient trees, delightful food, and countless people from all over the world can be found there. My café, in which you are sitting, was designed to look and feel like God himself plucked it up from the city and placed it here. Russia is lovely, but I think it could use a little American flavor. I’m trying to bring Voodoo to Russia as well, have you heard of it? We worship the ancestors that came before us. They crave to experience the flesh once more, sampling earthly delights. Of course, as a High Priestess of the religion, it is my duty to see that they get those offerings, and in return, they have gifted me with the magic you see before you… Others have been touched by the Ancestors, although I doubt they realize it,” Rowan gushed. She gave a glance over to Mik at that last bit, offering a wink and a smile. Oh, he could Channel, but did he realize how much more he could do if he recognized the spirits of the Voodoo pantheon?

                The older man declined to give a name and had also forsaken a chair, instead taking up a space behind Valeriya. Perhaps he was a bodyguard of sorts? A certain amount of mockery had laced his voice as he asked a particularly private question…

                Mik answered easily enough. Rowan sighed and threw her hands up, gazing upon the other gentleman.

                “Once. I have killed once. It happened a few years ago and I can guarantee you that I did not know what I was doing… You see, I lost my husband quite suddenly… And my unborn child. We had been in an accident… Upon learning of their deaths, I lost control of myself. To this day, I am still not sure what happened. The only thing I know is that I screamed and screamed, until there was nothing left inside of me… When finally my voice grew hoarse, I discovered that everyone around me had dropped dead. I cannot say the number. It was a tragic accident and I have devoted every waking moment of my life to see that it does not happen again. Indeed, it is my hope that I may aid in making this world a better place. My actions cannot be erased and those lives cannot be recovered, but perhaps I can help those that still walk this plane. I do not know how yet, but I am constantly looking for ways that I might do so. This café was only the first step for me. Everyone is welcome here, anyone may come upon me and ask a favor, a blessing, a spell, and I will see to it that it is done. There is so much suffering in the world… The spirits have given me these gifts for a reason; I can only assume that it is to help raise the human race up, aid in making this civilization better for all…”

                Tobias abruptly rose from his seat, stammering for air. Rowan rolled her eyes and called out to him.

                “The balcony is the other way, Tobias. Although if it is getting too stuffy in here, you might want to try the Gentlemen’s Parlor downstairs… The company might be more to your liking in the basement.”

[Valeriya]

If killing people was a damnation in Armande’s eyes, then Valeriya was dirt under his foot. Thankfully, the kill itself was not a sin. Such was a cycle of life, but the reason for such kills sent the soul to eternal torment. The question her beloved posed upon Rowan dripped with poison like the walls of the Pits dripped with sickly slime. The reason for the kills were what held Valeriya’s attention (and her judgment). The Eye saw all, and Valeriya was slow to send another Eye to her grave simply for one sin. Instead, she should be given the chance to atone like all of god’s creatures.

“You’ve sinned greatly, Rowan,” Valeriya proclaimed like the statement was the most obvious thing in the world. “And you regret your sin, I can sense that, but remorse is not enough. Everyone sins, it is why my people denounce the saints of old, sinners and hypocrites,” she sniffed derisively. “Sometimes, great ones are sent to us as human forms of the holy spirit. It is to such a Great One you now speak,” she turned her palm toward her beloved.

Then, with the fires of passion churning her eyes fervent, she leaned and gripped Rowan’s hands like a sister pleading to another. “You can atone for these sins, acknowledge the Great One, and Awaken from the darkness you now reside. I can show you how. I have done it myself.” Her thumb grazed the sweet, soft skin. Aromas of delicacies curled her senses like tantalizing smoke of Raydenyi. She wanted to sample those exotic dishes, but salvation of the soul was the greater outcome for the moment. Her own selfish whims could delay. 

Of course, those who chose to remain in the exile of darkness could not be allowed to persist. She truly hoped Rowan was willing.

[Ashavari]

Tobias stood and Asha’s grip tightened, for a moment panicked that he meant to leave her there in his haste to escape. But his hand did not loosen its hold; if anything, he seemed equally disinclined to let go. Nausea crept through strong. Fear. The terrible anger of the older man and the queenly regality of his companion radiated beyond, filling her like an overspilled cup. Asha pulled herself to her feet, tuned to the need to escape. The emotions of the others crashed like tumultuous waves, spiking the roaring pulse in her ears. Sweat pricked her skin as her body reacted.

“You don’t need to be rude, Rowan.” The snap was uncharacteristic, but the fuel of fury and fear were a potent mix. Rowan knew what Tobias could do; what he could see, and yet she maligned his reaction like he was a child acting out of turn. Her gaze moved to more interesting pastures, like people were so much as trinkets to be discarded when more tantalising prospects came along. We warned you.

But at least it presented the opportunity for a smooth exit. Or smooth enough, anyway. The strange dark-haired woman did not so much as blink beyond the capture of Rowan’s gaze, and even the man seemed more preoccupied with her and Mik than with Tobias and Asha. She squeezed reassurance, ready to follow.