Alpha and Omega (Jordan)

[Felicia Soler]

Fuck you, fuck you very, very much
'Cause your words don't translate
And it's getting quite late
So please don't stay in touch

Las Vegas, Nevada

She was like a dormant case of herpes. Every time Jordan thought he'd managed to rid himself of her, she'd pop up again when he least expected it. Case in point, earlier in the morning, she'd decided to give him and his most recent lady friend quite a wake up call—by transforming herself into a 400 pound lioness, jumping onto the bed, and muscling herself between their two sleeping forms. The woman—pity she hadn't gotten her name; she was actually quite stunning—didn't even bother grabbing her clothes from off the floor as she made a bid for freedom and bolted out the front door into the hallway. When she came to her senses a few minutes later after the initial shock wore off and attempted to get back into the apartment to retrieve her discarded clothing, she was greeted by a loud roar which effectively told her get the fuck out.

Lilka didn't like having other females in her territory unless she was in a relationship with them. Jordan's smattering of occasional girlfriends notwithstanding, she'd allowed a few women whom she 'approved' of to be regular visitors. As far as she was concerned, fucking someone was one of the worst possible ways to make a deep connection with them, though Jordan seemed to be learning rather quickly what she expected of him. In spite of her stern nature and the manner in which she treated some of the individuals he invited into his home, she was fairly patient and even-tempered.

While he spent his time cursing at her and insulting her mother, she'd rolled over on the bed (thankfully the frame was made of solid steel and didn't break under her additional weight), exposing her belly to the ceiling, and started batting her forepaws at imaginary dangling mice. She made chuffing noises at him and whined, writhing around on her back until he conceded defeat and gave her belly a half-hearted rub. Satisfied with the outcome, she sighed and rolled back over, then silently padded off the bed and returned to her normal shape.

“I'd say I'm sorry for scaring off your girlfriend, but I'm not, so I won't.” The poor woman was probably still standing outside the front door stark ass naked. She should let her back in, but she wasn't feeling particularly generous. Instead, she gathered up all of the woman's clothing (and pressed it to her face and inhaled deeply while Jordan wasn't looking) and headed for the door. Sure enough, she was still standing outside with her arms crossed over her chest. Lilka grinned at her and did nothing to hide the fact that she obviously found her quite attractive, forgetting for the moment that the woman's breasts were not her eyes. But she just couldn't take her eyes off them. Doing so would have been a sin. “Sorry about earlier. I'm a little territorial.” She managed to wrest her eyes away from the other woman's bare bosom (sadface!) and looked at her as she passed the clothes between them. “And I didn't catch your name.”

“Chastity Lawrence.” She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to give this woman her name, but she felt comfortable in doing so. “Shapeshifter?” The few minutes she'd spent catching her breath outside the door after she'd very nearly had the shit scared out of her had been enough for her to calm down and come to her senses. She slipped on her undergarments as she waited for an answer.

Lilka casually leaned against the door frame and stepped aside, non-verbally giving Chastity the consent to come back inside if she so chose. Her purse and other valuables were still somewhere in the condo. “No, Jordan's basement is a menagerie of exotic animals,” she replied dryly. “And 'Chastity.' Really? Man, you must have hated your parents when you were a teenager. I'll never understand why they give their kids names like that and expect them to live up to them when you know they're gonna do just the opposite. I'm Lilka, by the way.” She extended her hand for a handshake and Chastity took it warily, grasping it with her fingers. “Yes, I'm a shapeshifter.”

She pulled her shirt over her head once the handshake ended. “Must be nice. No one in my family can do anything as showy as that. The only thing I can do is see the true nature of an object or something organic. Nothing flashy, unfortunately.”

“Ah, so more of an intellectual. I get that. Probably gives you good insight into people and their motives.”

“Comes in handy when you're a card dealer in Vegas,” she smiled in spite of herself. “I can always tell when someone's trying to count cards or cheat me—sometimes even before they catch it on camera.”

With such an ability, Lilka could have done anything and probably wouldn't have settled for a job as a dealer, no matter how high the tips. But it wasn't her place to judge. She reached up and gently squeezed her shoulder, and smiled to show that she meant no harm. With a flourish, she reached into her strapless bra and produced a business card, which she handed to the younger woman. In case any of your clients are ever looking for a psychotherapist.”

She held the index card between her fingers and went to put it in her purse, only then realising that her purse was still inside the condo—probably on the dining room table where she'd left it. “I really don't mean to intrude, but I think I left my purse in here in all the . . . commotion, I guess.”

Lilka gestured for her to come back inside and stepped slightly behind the door so as not to appear imposing. “You're welcome to stay here as long as you like. My . . . nephew—or whatever he is—still has a lot to learn.”

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ф ф Word count: 1053
ф ф Mood: Durnk bg is durnk.
ф ф Outfit: Listed in post.
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Fuck You Very Much, Lily Allen
ф ф Illustrations: none.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: None.

[Jordan Mercer]

Fake it if you're out of direction
Fake it if you don't belong
Fake it if you feel like affection
Whoooooa, you're such a fucking hypocrite
-Seether, "Fake It"

There was no solace. Everything Jordan had tried had failed to erase the guilt. Drinking; he had taken to storing copious amounts of liquor in his apartment in order to have something to chug down on the nights that the depression set in. The other nights were the ones where he went out, not for any sort of enjoyment or camaraderie, but specifically to pick up a likely lady who seemed interested enough to sleep with him. Neither the alcohol nor the sex had been able to free him from his downward spiral.

And then there was Lilka. She drank his damn liquor and scared off all the girls. Not that he had planned to spend more than a night with them anyway, but he was concerned about gaining a reputation. He had never been much for swearing until she moved in with him. now he found himself creating more colorful curses by the day. And they branched out, expanded from the typical American ones to popular swear words from his native England, and out to those very creative ones from Russia, Poland, Bulgaria, and other countries that he had studied while tracing his ancestry. He was aware that Lilka could understand them. That was the point.

Finding her in his bed in the form of some animal was becoming such a regular occurrence that it no longer surprised Jordan at all. There would be a very feminine scream, the sound of rushed footsteps, a growl of some sort, and then, in some cases, conversation from off in the living room or kitchen. The first few times, he had rushed out after the woman and apologized profusely, to no avail. Now, he did not bother at all. He just sighed, gave Lilka the belly rub she was looking for, and then let her pad away to conduct further mischief, or hit on the woman herself, if the girl was pretty enough.

Meanwhile, instead of trying to rectify the situation himself, Jordan ran a hand through his hair to try to give some semblance of order to the long black waves, then splashed water on his face to wake him up and headed for the kitchen without bothering to get dressed. Lilka had seen him naked often enough by now that it really didn't matter anymore. It didn't seem to faze her, and it had ceased to bother him some time ago.

Upon reaching the living area, he was surprised to see a mostly-dressed Chastity still within range of the condo. "Chas," he said, suddenly feeling very tired. "I'm really sorry about that. Lilka has an odd sense of what passes for fun." He would not blame the woman for not wanting to see him again. In fact, as nice - and as skilled - as she had been, he really didn't want to see her again.

"She's a relative of mine," he explained to Chastity, having missed the part where Lilka made a similar comment. "The sort that likes to pop up unexpectedly. Very often." He shot Lilka a brief glare. "I was just making breakfast. You're welcome to stay and share, if you like."

He had moved into the kitchen in an almost automatic, absent way, and was removing pots and pans from the drain and the dishwasher. It was a habit he had picked up from Evelyn, he realized with a touch of shame. He supposed that he should not have expected those habits to go away now that she was gone. It was her absence - at his indirect actions - that had taken her away, and yet, like a ghost, she had yet to leave him, the habits and mannerisms he had picked up from her still guiding his everyday activities. And he had thought the relationship had been one-sided.

There were eggs and bacon, among other things, in the fridge, and he figured he could make enough pancakes for three with the ingredients he had if Chastity chose to stay. If not, he could perhaps use that as an excuse for her to leave. Maybe Lilka would leave with her. He would consider that a double victory.

That gave him another thought. If Chastity left, alone, that would leave him with Lilka and his own demons. Hmm. Perhaps it would be better if the woman did stay. After setting the pots down on the stove, he moved over to Chastity and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Do you like pancakes? There's plenty," he said, now suddenly tempted to use his abilities to make her stay. No. He had sworn off that the moment Evelyn died. He would not cave to something so simple as hoping Chastity would not leave him alone with Lilka. that was a fear that he needed to face on his own, using his own resources. And if she did leave, then he would have to deal with that as well. He had yet to tell Lilka anything about Evelyn, but he would not be surprised to find that she already knew. Nothing about his Rahal relatives truly surprised him anymore.

[Felicia Soler]

I have to say,
I'm glad to see some people still appreciate the concept of an apology,
Even if it's better late then never.
The same can be said about forgiveness,
It's just so oddly typical that I am undeserving.

"Chas,"

She focused on him when she heard part of her name being called. At least he was calling her by the first syllable of her name rather than the last two. “Titty” was a nickname only her younger siblings could get away with calling her since they hadn't been able to pronounce her name accurately until they were school age. They called her “Diddy” when they were in polite company, and “Titty” just to razz her when she was working or otherwise needed to be reminded of the horrible name she'd been gifted with.

"I'm really sorry about that. Lilka has an odd sense of what passes for fun." The fact that he was naked didn't seem to faze her at all. They'd spent the entire night naked, and she'd lived in Vegas her entire life. Seeing a drunk person walking naked down the Strip was almost a nightly occurrence. People who lived here were particularly uninhibited.

"She's a relative of mine," he added with a somewhat annoyed nod of acknowledgment in Lilka's direction. Lilka rolled her eyes. "The sort that likes to pop up unexpectedly. Very often."

“Wrong. I live here. For now.”

"I was just making breakfast. You're welcome to stay and share, if you like."

She couldn't quite put her finger on the emotion he was exhibiting. It didn't quite have the tenor of embarrassment as there was an undertone of . . . not humiliation. Fear? No, that wasn't quite it either. But she did know that he was upset about something. “Sure, I'd love that.” She could smell the bacon and eggs sizzling on the stove and it was making her stomach rumble.

Lilka shut the door behind her and escorted her into the kitchen, flashing Jordan a look which easily imparted the phrase, 'you be nice to her, or your ass is mine.' Once in the kitchen, Lilka set the table with three plates and three sets of utensils before taking a seat. As per her usual, she planned on taking the lion's share of the food. Shapeshifting was very energy consuming, and she'd had to move an industrial-sized icebox and industrial-sized free-standing refrigerator into one of the spare rooms. At least the apartment was large enough to house the appliances without having them be too conspicuous. The icebox was stuffed with whatever she could fit in it. Right now it was home to the mangled remains of a half-eaten elk she'd caught out in the scrub of the Mojave Desert, a javelina, and a coyote that had tried to steal her food while she'd been eating it. She sometimes debated killing a mustang and leaving its head in Jordan's bed a la The Godfather, but she knew he wouldn't have enjoyed the joke.

"Do you like pancakes? There's plenty."

“Pancakes would be wonderful, but I can't have them unless they're gluten-free. Celiac's Disease really limits my food choices.” She'd been diagnosed with the illness three years ago, and what a world of difference it made. What she hadn't realised at the time was just how many foods actually had gluten in them.

“I'm just gonna make myself a dozen eggs and a pound of bacon.” Lilka had made sure that Jordan's kitchen was well-stocked with food, given her unique metabolism. She opened the fridge to retrieve the carton of eggs and one bag of bacon and hip-checked Jordan away from the stove. “You go sit your ass down. I'll finish making everything.” Over her several hundred lifetimes, she'd been a chef more than once and certainly had a flair for cooking. Sometimes, however, she really just wanted to make something plain. Eggs and bacon were two of her favourite foods. She grabbed a large skillet from the hanging pot rack above the stove and poured a healthy amount of olive oil into it, then turned on the burner and waited for the oil to heat up. Once it was bubbling, she tore open the package of bacon and dumped it into the oil-laden pan, then turned down the heat to a simmer. She turned around to face the couple now seated at the table and crossed her arms. “In case you haven't realised it yet, our family dynamic is kind of fucked up.”

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ф ф Word count: 821
ф ф Mood: Gotta pee and go spend my last $5 on food.
ф ф Outfit: Ehhh, not an outfit, but we'll go with Emilia Clarke as Chastity's CC.
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Dumb and Dahmer, The Gorgeous
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: None.

[Jordan Mercer]

Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone
Lost in the pages of self made cages
Life slips away and the ghosts come to play
-MS MR, "Bones"

An inward sigh caught itself in Jordan’s lungs. Here were two women, in his apartment, that he had no idea what to do with. The one had potential, but he really had not laid the correct groundwork for anything other than a one-night stand, and he really didn’t have it in his soul to pursue anything beyond that. Hell, he didn’t even want any new friends at the moment. But the longer she remained among them, the more difficult it would be to tell her that. He didn’t want to kick her out, but he didn’t want her sticking around for too long. Talk about a rock and a hard place.

The other was a thorn in his side. She did nothing but irritate him and push him beyond his limits. That was not what he needed right now, he felt. He needed to be left alone to work through his grief and his guilt. Yet her presence was comforting… sometimes. And sometimes she had kind or wise words for him. But when she wasn’t bringing home a carcass or scaring away his bedmates, she was doing her best to whip him back into form by practically whipping him, verbally at least. He had nothing against her, really, but he could not stand her behavior.

He was in the kitchen making breakfast for them, stark naked. It didn’t bother him or either of the women, but when it came time to actually sit down for breakfast, he decided clothes were probably in order, and slipped back into his room to pull on his underwear and jeans and comb his hair with his fingers to make it look somewhat less ransacked. He was completely unsurprised by Lilka’s assertion that she would make herself a - well - lion’s share of food. What did surprise and hinder him a bit was learning that Chastity had coeliac disease. While his condition was on a lower scale, he could relate a little bit due to his allergy to crustacea. The pancakes, however, were made from a boxed mix, which means he had no way of preparing the pancakes for her.

That, though, was a perfect example of problem number one. Their acquaintance should not have been close enough that he had to know about her health or find ways around it. He did not quite regret asking her to stay, but then again, he was extremely wary of any of them getting attached to the other. That included Lilka becoming friends with Chastity or, worse, sleeping with Chastity. That would just have been weird.

Jordan gave Chastity an apologetic look. “I think we have some fruit in the fridge,” he said, and got up from the table to check, sliding past Lilka in order to avoid getting hip-checked again. “Yeah, we’ve got a couple of apples, a few bananas, an orange, and….” He picked up something that looked like an orange but wasn’t, and tossed it. “Tangerine.”

If Chastity requested any of those fruits, Jordan brought them over to her on a plate; if not, he went back to his seat anyway. “‘Kind of’?” he said under his breath, and then said, for Chastity’s benefit, “It’s a big family, and an old one. I’m actually more of a distant relative.” He did have a few of the Rahal features, but those were probably on the way to breeding themselves out. “The shapeshifting-monster-appetite-hardass-petty-trickster gene missed me, as it happens.”

[Felicia Soler]

Through sparrow black wind
A dead crow calls out to his wing
We were lightning across the whole world
We were lightning
We were lightning
We were lightning

So Chastity couldn't eat wheat gluten. “Eh, that's not a big deal.” While Lilka wanted to sit down and eat, it wouldn't have been fair to leave their guest sitting there with an empty stomach. She'd already made a dozen eggs and a pound of bacon on the stove, and had set both pans on a trivet on the table in front of her. Lilka retrieved three clean place settings from the dishwasher. At Jordan's suggestion, she made some room on the table for the fruit Jordan had taken out of the fridge and kicked a seat towards him with a grin. He was still incredibly apprehensive about being around people, but he was slowly coming out of his shell—or acting like it to get her off his case, at least. Whatever. Sometimes the old adage “Fake it 'til you make it” really did work after a while. Once you started to believe you could do something, doing it just came naturally.

Lilka divided the eggs and the bacon almost evenly among them; she left a slightly larger portion for herself. Of the three of them, she had the fastest metabolism and needed to eat several high protein meals a day to keep her body from cannibalising its own tissues.

“So since you're a Rahal, are you related to the woman who runs IntelliTouch?” Rahal wasn't exactly a common American last name. If anything, it evoked a very Middle Eastern heritage which was more than apparent in Lilka's dark features and olive-coloured skin. Jordan, for lack of a better phrase, was painfully Caucasian.

“It’s a big family, and an old one. I’m actually more of a distant relative.” He paused. “The shapeshifting-monster-appetite-hardass-petty-trickster gene missed me, as it happens.”

Lilka rolled her eyes and stuffed a forkful of eggs in her mouth, then swallowed. “Don't be jealous because I'm beautiful. And, yes,” she nodded at Chastity to answer her question, “Khalidah is my sister. Jordan is sort of a . . . an extremely distant nephew several times removed, but there's still some Rahal blood in there somewhere.”

Chastity took a few bites of the scrambled eggs on her plate. This had to have ranked as one of the stranger experiences she'd had after sleeping with someone. She chuckled. “Can't say I've ever been chased out of a house by a lioness before. Thanks for not biting me in the ass, I guess.”

“Can't say I wasn't tempted. Jordan has rather good taste in whom he choose to associate with.” She could embarrass him all she wanted. He was family which meant that he was fair game.

“So can you turn into anything else?”

Lilka raised a brow. Shapeshifters seemed to be the freak shows of the 'special' world since they could effectively take on any shape they wanted. “I can turn into plenty of things, though I prefer the big cats because they're just so damn fun. If I wanted, I could turn into either of you, right down to your retinas.” But the more complex the animal, the more energy she spent maintaining the shift. Mimicking another human took all her concentration.

Well, that was fascinating. It made her ability look pretty boring by comparison, though Chastity's ability had saved her on more than one occasion. She could read people like a well-seasoned FBI profiler and often knew people's secrets before they knew them themselves. “If I could choose to have any ability, I'd probably choose shapeshifting. Just having the ability to turn into something or someone else and just run away . . . it just sounds very liberating.”

“It's a good way to run away from your problems.” Her ability certainly made it easier for her to drop off the map when history made it necessary to do so. Running away from her problems was something she'd become quite well-versed in over the years. The corners of her lips ticked upwards into a small smile. “And everyone loves curling up with a cuddly lioness.”

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ф ф Word count: 780
ф ф Mood: Nyeh.
ф ф Outfit: Same as previous posts.
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: The Black Crow, Ohia
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: None.