Don't Speak (Alessandro)

[Felicia Soler]

Take me out
Hatred is blind as well as love
You have to turn hate to love
Get me out

Cazenovia Lake Estate
Cazenovia, NY

If there was one thing she couldn't stand in life, it was someone annoying the living shit out of her. Immediately following her conversation with Alice, she put both Illy and Daro back to bed. Or, rather, she tucked Daro back into bed, and Illy curled up at the foot of the bed and hid her head between her paws before yawning and covering her face with her tail. As was the case with most of the offspring in the immediate Rahal clan, their powers had manifested early. Thus far, Illy had shown a propensity toward shapeshifting like her great aunt; Daro took more after his mother and had demonstrated the ability to spontaneously heal himself and others.

Lilka had been living in the mother-in-law's house attached to their property to help assist with raising the children when neither she nor Helena were around. She sent her a brief text explaining what was going on, packed two small overnight bags, a Company-issue tablet computer which she wrapped up between one set of clothes, and went to the garage to unleash the newest addition to their family. After stashing the overnight bags in a small compartment under the seat, she donned her racing suit over her clothes, and pulled out her phone. She grabbed an extra helmet off one of the hooks and attached it to her waist. IntelliTouch always had a private jet hangared at the local airfield, and after putting in a call to them, she fastened a helmet over her head and walked the motorcycle to the end of the long driveway so as not to awaken her children when the machine's engine roared to life.

She mounted the bike as she waited for the gate at the end of the drive to open, then turned it on and revved the engine. Considering the bike had a top speed of well over 200 kmh, she estimated that she'd arrive at her destination at the airfield in five minutes. Fitting the 530 pound bike into the cargo hold of the jet was possible; if worse came to worse, she could always haul it onto the plane and park it in the aisle.

Felicia kept her head down to keep both her body and the bike completely streamlined as she switched gears and sped down the roadway. In spite of its bulky size, the two-seater high-powered motorcycle was surprisingly agile and reacted to the barest turn of the handle. She twisted the wheel sideways as she entered the hangar and brought the bike to a skidding halt parallel to the 2008 Challenger 300. As predicted, she arrived at the airfield as scheduled and boarded the plane without issue. After a bit of trial and error, the Ninja ZX 14R was safely stashed away in the belly of the plane, and she was availing herself of the plate of appetisers and cocktails that had been placed on the table in front of her seat while she'd been en route.

As the small jet prepared to lift off, she unpacked the tablet and its charger and set about doing a bit of light research for the remainder of the flight.

**********

10 Brook Lane
Somewhere in New York

The flight lasted a little under an hour, during which time she'd memorised what information she needed. Once they'd deplaned, she oversaw the removal of the Ninja from the cargo hold and was soon on her way after locking in her destination on the bike's touchscreen GPS.

Off the freeway, she had to choke the bike's engines back to a painful crawl, then turned off its lights and shut it down completely once she'd reached the block where Alessandro lived. She removed her helmet and hung it from a handlebar as she walked briskly down the leaf covered street. Autumn was definitely in the air, and she was thankful for the insulation the racing suit had to offer.

Knowing that Alessandro was a paranoid little shit, it didn't surprise her at all to find the exterior of his house outfitted with motion sensor floodlights and strategically placed infrared cameras. Whatever. She walked up the entry foyer with confidence and knocked on the door. He'd probably answer the door with an inhibitor bracelet and a gun, but she really didn't care. She wasn't planning on using her ability on him since she needed to gain his trust.

“Don't be a prick and leave me out here, you jackass! I'll make a scene!” Felicia knew he was in there; she could hear him. “ . . . Io ti sento respirare, Alessandro. Little pig, little pig, please let me in . . . ”

She patiently stood outside the closed door and noticed a small intercom to her left. “Okay. Volete giocare duro? Posso farlo. Ho anni di esperienza. Cerchiamo quindi di giocare, va bene?”

Felicia pressed the ON button and paced in front of the speaker. “Your full name is Alessandro Gianluca Moretti. You were born to Bibiana Gianluca Moretti and Fulgenzio Moretti in Basilicata, Italy on the 16th of August 1974. Both of your parents are deceased. You also had a brother named Gaetana Gianluca Moretti who was gifted with the power of hydrokinesis.” She paused and gave the camera above her a coy smile. “Am I getting warmer? I really don't have a problem picking at your old wounds. So I'll continue.

Your father never wanted you because he didn't like children. He neglected you. Then your brother was born, and you were further alienated from your parents. Since then, you've attempted to psychologically protect yourself by becoming a loner and shutting down that nagging feeling in the back of your mind that maybe, just maybe you won't be rejected. Because of that neglect, you learned to care for yourself from a very young age, but nurtured a seed of cynicism which eventually grew into the personality you have now.”

She adjusted the helmet under her arm and thought of where she wanted to go next. Chronological order was the best way to keep things organised in her mind. “I know you're listening. And no matter how hard you try, I'm not going to let you shut me out, because you have stepped over a HUGE line, and I am seriously pissed off at you.” The second he'd tossed Helena into his argument—that was it. She could have killed him. But once that flight of fancy flew away, she was considering other means of revenge.

“You were schooled at home because your father didn't want you to be exposed to all the horrors in the world. You and your father had several disagreements over your mutual faith. You were—and still are—an incredibly musically gifted young man, and you've always found a certain amount of solace in that.

Your family moved to Los Angeles when you were fourteen, during which time you experienced a large amount of culture shock, having been raised in relative seclusion from the world. . . . but it was something that you enjoyed, which the rest of your family did not. When your family was preparing to make the move back to Italy, your brother first manifested his powers. Your father abandoned all of you, believing that your family had been cursed.

Two years later, your mother was shot and killed in front of you, and your brother was taken away, the latter of which you saw to be a blessing.”

The more words left her lips, the more she almost felt sorry for him. She'd witnessed more death in 800 years than she cared to remember: her children, her lovers, her relatives. It was just something she'd come to accept as being as normal as waking up in the morning, and it had really stopped affecting her years ago.

“You came to learn that the men who took your brother were members of The Company, and waited for years to get the call, because it was in your blood to hunt down all specials, because obviously the millions of us in the world destroyed your family—which is bullshit, by the way, but whatever, I'll let that slide since past all the emotional barriers you've put up to distance yourself from everyone, you're still that scared, lonely, sad little boy looking for someone to pay attention to you and tell you that they love you and that you're needed.”

Even though he wasn't standing in front of her, she could tell that she'd touched a nerve—so of course now she was going to obliterate it.

“You were never a good partner to your godsend counterparts, given your past experiences. You'd sooner see all of us dead, which I can understand.”

And then, the lynch pin.

“Then you turned twenty-four and you were sent on an assignment to pick up an almost six year old girl in Texas. You became an instant father-figure to her, and developed a close bond in spite of your hatred for our kind. She was the one godsend you couldn't find it in your heart to injure, and instead took on the well-deserved mantle of being her protector.

Ten years later, this little girl was taken from you. Even though she didn't abandon you of her own volition, it was something you couldn't control.”

By the end of her lengthy soliloquy, she was sitting on the cold cement with her back against the door. “I'd start playing the Pity Me Olympics with you because I can guarantee I've had way more tragic shit than that happen in the eight centuries I've been alive, but dredging up shit from my past is boring, and by the time I finished telling you about it, you'd be eighty years old and senile. So will you please quit being an asshole and let me in?” Felicia banged her head lightly against the door and groaned. “Ugh, whether you believe it or not, I'm actually here to fucking help you, you jackass, but I can't do that if you don't open the fucking door.”

She pushed herself to her feet and put the helmet back on her head, but left the visor open. He still hadn't opened the door. Now she was getting impatient. This did not bode well for the structural integrity of his house. “Or I can kick your door in. Your choice.” She took a few steps back until she was at the edge of the porch, then crouched down into a sprinting stance. “I'll give you three seconds before I turn all Juggernaut and bust down the door. Three . . . two . . . ”

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 1903
ф ф Mood: Freezing and I don't want to adult today.
ф ф Outfit: Felicia's gear
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Take Me Out, Anna Tsuchiya
ф ф Illustrations: Illy
ф ф Comment / Informational links: I gave Alessandro a house here, but he can live wherever in NY.

[Alessandro Moretti]

Alessandro longed for times like these. They were the times with no interference from the outside world; moments of pure tranquillity within a chaotic lifestyle. They were moments of silence in the raging storm and that was always a rare thing to come by. The Italian had thusly took it upon himself to relish each second of the time he had spare before he had to return to his work.

And that was exactly it: work. To an outsider, he openly admitted to working for the Company. He had come to realize that they were not as secretive as they once were – something attributable to Helena Rahal, no doubt – though it would remain to be seen if this was a good thing. Alessandro could see (and even appreciate) the turnaround that was happening within the Company. A new vision, a new ethos: a new Company. He appreciated it but that wasn’t to say he liked or agreed with it. From what he understood, his employer wanted to integrate themselves as the core support platform for people with abilities. But they didn’t need support. They needed to be contained and so, to someone who knew him (though far and few between they were), Alessandro was in the Company for one thing: to extract information and keep a close eye on the one person who meant more to him than his own life. He did his assignments and played the part of a good little puppy as, despite everything, he was considered a useful asset and the deal he made with Avian Morrison last year had only solidified his stature as a member of the Company. He knew how abilities worked; he understood them. He was equipped with many useful skills and, most importantly, despite his trepidation toward those with abilities, Alessandro could separate and compartmentalize his personal feelings and lock them away when on assignment – something most agents struggled with.

He had only allowed his personal vendetta’s get the better of him once whilst on duty. Never again.

But what was his life, if not a hypocritical state of living? Alessandro had made it abundantly clear to more than a few people that he thought people with abilities were nothing other than mutants or, as he preferred to term them, mostri – monsters. They were spawn of Satan; children of Hell. They were wretched beings with powers they should not have and did not deserve.

Except one. There was always an exception to prove the rule, wasn’t there?

His exception was Alice Taylor. He had a special bond with her that he had not quite formed with another living soul. He was a father to her. She was a child to him. When she was his charge, Alessandro oftentimes forgot she had an ability at all and saw her for what she was: a confused and innocent child trying to make sense of everything that was going on. He helped her and she helped him. Things were better back then.

That was until the Company decided to take everything away from him.
And then things changed.
Things always changed.

So he sat in his Oxblood Red leather armchair and looked up at the monitors in dim stillness. The dusty brass floor lamp sat in the corner and illuminated the room just enough so that he could see. The two windows in his room were locked tightly, the maize coloured window panes bolted closed. It was just him, the flickering screens and a small hi-fi system sat idly to his left gently filling his room with the sounds of Palestrina’s Alma Redemptoris Mater. The sounds were beautiful and relaxing. They made him nostalgic for the days when he was back in Italy. They made him think of the cathedrals and churches he used to visit; the vast monasteries and great chapels. Alessandro closed his eyes and his head filled with images of the Abbazia della Santissima Trinità. The simple masonry of its architecture and the humble lifestyle he saw of those living within its walls. The great pillars of the Incompiuta. And though it was run by the Trinitarian Order, there was always something tranquil about seeing it.

He was torn from his moment of remembrance, though, when he heard the distinct ’bzzt’ of somebody wanting to enter his house – the faint rays of light from his flood lights beamed through the cracks in the window panes. Grabbing the remote control to his screens, Alessandro changed the input source and the cameras flashed onto the screen: his back yard was clear, the garage was clear though somebody was standing at his front door – a woman in a black and red racing suit. He couldn’t quite make out who she was so he entered ‘c018’ onto the control and the screens mirrored the intercoms camera – a glimpse of one Felicia Rahal burned into his eyes.

What could the wife of his boss possibly want, aside from a lay? Alessandro had made it clear to her that he was not interested in any kind of sexual relation to the point that he had resorted to having her number completely blocked on his private phone. He didn’t need to ask how she managed to get a hold of his number. He was sure the Company could be thanked for that.

As she hurled the vulgarities at his intercom, Alessandro pressed another button on his remote and prompted his systems to turn on his microphones; a calm breathing taking over the small speaker attached to the side of the device on Felicia’s left.
“Little pig, little pig, please let me in.” Felicia spoke, her tone reminiscent of somebody attempting to mock another.
“Or you will huff? And puff?” Alessandro grinned, “And blow my house down?”

The faint whirring of his hi-fi system indicated that the cassette tape he had on was nearing its end, so Alessandro stood up and replaced the tape to put on a piece by Dmitri Shostakovich whilst she recited his history back to him.

A smile paced his face as he began to dance with himself across the room, toward the main light. He flicked the switch and turned on his light, talking up to his room to one of the microphones he’d installed within the room, “Old wounds are the best kind to pick at.”

Did she think she would be able to affect him? Alessandro had come to learn in his years that it did not serve well to allow people to get the better of him emotionally. Her words rolled off of his ears like breeze on the top of a mountain.

“ Because of that neglect, you learned to care for yourself from a very young age, but nurtured a seed of cynicism which eventually grew into the personality you have now.”
“You are right so far.” Alessandro interjected, “For the most part. I would not believe everything you read in your spouse’s Company files. ”

And as he let her continue and babble on about a line he had crossed, Alessandro grinned. He opened a small drawer next to his armchair and picked up a small metallic bracelet, “And I thought you were meant to be picking at my wounds? You are not meant to hurt yourself, Felicia. You sound very annoyed.”

After a small pause, Alessandro slumped back in his armchair, the bracelet falling between his fingers as he watched Felicia on the screen; her meagre attempt at trying to look serious and in-control was almost laughable if it weren’t for the fact that she was trying so hard. He almost felt embarrassed for her though knew exactly what she was building up to. So he listened.

He listened and waited until he bought her into the conversation. It was odd, though; her blatant insults toward him had not affected him as she’d hoped and he sat in absolute silence whilst she was talking about how he was scared and lonely and looking for love. Lonely, perhaps. Scared? He didn’t see a reason to be. But looking for reassurance to his own usefulness and lovability? Almost laughable. Alessandro knew what he was. He took pride in what he was.

Even when she insulted his work ethic – something which he took pride in despite everything the Company had done to him – Alessandro found himself calm. He supposed the music helped.

“Then you turned twenty-four and you were sent on an assignment to pick up an almost six year old girl in Texas.”

And there it was. Felicia’s main weapon.

“Keep her out of this.” His voice was almost venomous were it not for the rock-like sternness. It was more an order than a plea.

He sat in his chair and closed his eyes, the intercom still crackling with the absence of noise from his end, and hoped she would give up. It became evident, however, that she had no plans to when she threatened to attack his house.

“Three . . .”

Alessandro groaned.

“Two . . . ”

He opened his eyes and stood up. He knew she would try to, despite his door being reinforced with deadlocks. Though the house looked like a farmhouse, he had made a few interior modifications to ensure his own safety. Alessandro had saved a small fortune in his years and knew how to spend his money wisely. Steel reinforced doors, infrared cameras, a state-of-the-art monitoring system and high speed internet were just a few of the wise things he’d spent his money on.

He could feel her open her mouth to speak once more before he interrupted and let out a defeated sigh, “Sei così cazzo testardo. I don’t want to repaint. I’m going to give you a bracelet and I want you to put it on and activate it. If you do not activate it properly, and I will know if you don’t, I will call your wife and explain that you have been harassing me and trying to bed me. I am sure Helena would love to hear how you are seeking out a man of my… reservations over her.”

Before she even had time to answer, Alessandro had made his way to the front door and through a very small hatch to the right hand side of the door, a power inhibiting bracelet fell through it; the red LED indicating that it was not activated stared Felicia down and once it was on and activated, Alessandro looked to the small screen by the door – his eyes paying particular attention to the bracelet, waiting for affirmation that it was active and her abilities were inhibited.

As soon as he was comfortable, he entered a short four digit pin onto his security panel and disengaged the intruder alarm – the bolts on the door releasing with a loud clank.

He pulled open the door slightly and took a step back, walking slowly toward the kitchen, allowing Felicia to enter his house herself, the interior of which was simply designed. Plain paint for the walls and a matching wooden floor. The only room that seemed to have any form of design to it was his special room; situated on the second right of the first floor. What was once a dining room had been converted into his study and monitoring station. It was where he spent the majority of his time.

“You drink, sí?” Alessandro asked though it was more a statement that he was giving her something to drink. Grabbing two wine glasses from his cupboard, Alessandro ran his forefinger across his wine rack and grabbed a bottle of 1980 Barbera d’Alba. Its mouth-watering acidity and strong berry flavours were perfect for the occasion; not a casual drink though not one you would typically have at dinner. It was an evening wine, best enjoyed in the company of others. Or in the company of another who would no doubt try to kill you.

Pouring the deep red liquid slowly into the glasses, Alessandro turned his head to look at Felicia standing in the doorway; “What is it you’re wanting?”

[Felicia Soler]

Oh yeah, when I needed you to stay
You drove your car the other way
And oh me
Don't you worry about me
I got a pocket full of wisdom up my sleeve
And the night is young

“Sei così cazzo testardo, I don’t want to repaint.”

“Repainting will be the least of your worries if you don't open the fucking door. And I know I'm stubborn. Ho inventato testardo, ti fottuto culo.”

Her eyes were drawn to the metal compartment next to the door which looked (and probably was) a mail slot for people like Alessandro who preferred to have no contact with the outside world. A familiar looking silver bracelet tinkled through the hatch, and she glared at it. “Non sto indossando quella cosa cazzo. È brutto. Don't you have one in something other than silver? That colour clashes with my skin.” She knew exactly what it was. Whatever. She could talk her way out of it after putting it on and gaining entry. When she'd been waiting out there for more than a minute and the door still hadn't opened, she glared at the camera above her and growled. “Fine. Ma io non sto indossando questa merda per tutta la notte, cazzo.”

Although she wasn't able to see him through the door, she could tell that he was enjoying himself, trying to control her. “If you do not activate it properly, and I will know if you don’t, I will call your wife and explain that you have been harassing me and trying to bed me. I am sure Helena would love to hear how you are seeking out a man of my… reservations over her.”

Felicia laughed. Seriously? That was his trump card. God, he really didn't know shit. “You say that like you think it'll force me to put it on. Helena already knows I've slept with nearly half the Company, but I'll always return to her.” Helena had grown . . . tolerant of her escapades. The Company director could only put up with her insatiable appetite for intimacy for a day; then she had to return to work. The only rule they had was that Felicia not bring one of her escapades home. That area was sacred space for her and her family, and a handful of close friends. “You wanna know what'll happen if you tell her I tried to sleep with you? She'd be like, 'Okay, once she's done, can you tell her to stop by the market to pick up some Half-and-Half? And tell her to pick up some graham crackers since the kids want some and we're fresh out.'”

Alessandro didn't need to know that she could isolate and use her ability on one section of her body. Between the time she snatched the bracelet from the compartment and put it on her wrist, she'd used her ability to create a small circle of what resembled puncture wounds on the side of her neck, hidden under her upturned collar. The pattern formed by the tiny pinprick-like wounds were identical to the marks left by the ampoules the Company used to temporarily inhibit abilities during the transport of godsends from a bag-and-tag operation to one of their many experimental centres across the country. The average ampoule lasted for roughly six hours before its effects wore off.

She snatched the bracelet from where it lay and activated it, then extended her wrist toward the camera and raised her middle finger. “There. Happy? I don't even need to fucking have this on right now.”

From the other side of the door, she heard four digit code being input, though she couldn't pinpoint the different tones. Damn. That might have been useful. When the door opened, she ignored him as she hastily walked inside, detached the extra helmet from her waist, threw it onto the chair nearest her, then sat down on the couch in a huff with her arms crossed over her chest. “You're enjoying every minute of this, aren't you?”

God, she really wanted to flip over all of his tables right now and forcibly defenestrate all of his expensive monitors and other computer equipment. A fucking inhibitor bracelet? Fucking really? Okay, like, she totally understood where he was coming from; God only knew how much she trusted Alessandro, especially now that she was standing on unfamiliar ground. For lack of a better term, she felt naked and vulnerable—and maybe that was the point.

“I don't need this on me. Helena keeps inhibitor serums stashed all over the house.” She rolled down the collar on her racing suit and pointed to the circle of scabbed over dots on her neck. The tiny gouges on her skin resembled a Heaf test. “This shit would've healed by now if my ability were active.” Felicia pulled off one of her gloves, licked her index finger and rubbed the spot vigourously. The marks didn't smear. “This isn't permanent marker or make up.” She scratched at the red, irritated area, and picked off some of the scabs. The tiny punctures started to well with blood. “Fuckin' great. You have any idea how much I spent on this fuckin' suit? $1100. It's leather.” It wouldn't stain, but she didn't care.

Felicia pulled off her other glove and leaned over to untie and unlatch her boots, then kicked them off and set them down next to her feet on the floor.

Her wife may have been quiet, but still waters ran deep. If there was one thing she feared in the world, it was losing Helena, even if her actions said otherwise. Helena hadn't yet lived for eight centuries. Perhaps after a century or two, she'd grow to understand the need to extend the boundaries of 'traditional' relationships; until then, Felicia knew she needed to walk a very thin line. It was something she rarely admitted to anyone, save for Helena herself, but she loved that woman to the end of the universe and back.

With her boots off, she unzipped the racing suit from her neck to her waist and pulled her arms and legs out of it without disturbing too much of the outfit beneath. While Alessandro was off in the kitchen doing whatever (probably spiking her drink with a sedative to get her to leave him alone so he could enjoy his Gregorian chanting in peace), she folded the suit into a neat square and placed it on the cushion next to her. She admired the wedding ring Helena had surprised her with and sighed. They'd never had a proper marriage ceremony before the gods. She wanted a wedding—preferably one with a limited number of Rahal relatives, somewhere secluded and natural, like the middle of a forest in spring. She stared into the emerald-cut black diamond at the centre of the platinum ring with its surrounding musgravite inlay and temporarily lost herself in its darkness. Sometimes she wondered why Helena had chosen such a dark stone for her. Black was a solid, grounding colour, like the steadfast colour of earth several inches under the top soil, or the shadows which followed them. Helena was her shadow; she was always there, in the corner of her mind, overseeing all that she did—her shadow haunted Helena, and served as a constant reminder to not take life so seriously.

“You drink, sí?”

“I drink, but not when I'm driving.” Barefoot, save for the pair of black fishnet stockings covering the visible portion of her ankles and feet, she walked to the doorway between the den and the kitchen and held out her left hand to receive the glass he'd offered to her. “1980 Barbera d'Alba? Hmm.” Her eyes fell upon the glass, though she neglected to lift it to her mouth. “Well, isn't that a damn shame. . . . I never drink . . . wine . . . when it's offered to me by strange men who'd just as soon see me dead.” She gave him a coy look and passed the glass across her mouth, but didn't drink from it. “Perhaps I'd be better off drinking it from your lips?”

Felicia glanced at her right wrist, which wore the silver bracelet and its glowing LED light, and held it out to him. “Helena is going to fire you once she finds out you put this on me. Considering how much you value your work, and how lost you'd be without it, I suggest you remove this. If you don't, I'll call her and tell her you've restrained the mother of her children with an inhibitor—and I can guarantee she'll care more about that than me trying to pursue a liaison with you.” She swirled the dark red liquid around in her glass. “Aside from me, the Company is your greatest asset in reuniting with Alice. A shame you'd be willing to throw both of those opportunities away over something so . . . unimportant as my trust.” She raised her gaze from the glass to look him in the eye. He'd underestimated her; she didn't need her ability to be manipulative. “I failed to mention that I spoke with Alice last night for a good long while, and she had several things to say about you and how she'd be willing to forgive you.”

Rather than pour such a decadent glass of wine down the drain, she set the glass down next to the sink and walked back to where Alessandro was standing, and placed her braceleted wrist in his empty hand. “I could very easily walk out the door and be at Helena's side within the hour while wearing this. I'm your single chance of reconnecting with your daughter—one of my dearest friends. If Helena hadn't come into my life, I probably would have married her.” That wasn't true, but he didn't need to know that. Lying came as naturally to her as breathing.

“So let's dispense with the obvious fact that we have a mutual distrust of each other and call a truce, at least for one night. Because with where we're going, we're going to need my ability. And you're going to need a thick pair of boots—and a jacket. Preferably black leather.” The bracelet's green light reflected in her eyes. “Tonight, you are going to learn to relinquish control, and learn how to trust. That was one of Alice's requests. If you don't trust me, trust her trust in me. It'll be like pulling teeth, and it will be painful for you, but I'm going to teach you how to let go. Not of Alice—I don't wish to damage either of you in that way—but to let go of the absolute need for control you've allowed to rule your life, which in turn has affected her. And until you've opened your mind to trust someone you otherwise never would have trusted, you won't find her.”

Trust was something that needed to be earned, that much she knew. This was a dance she'd led several times in the past. In spite of the capricious, lackadaisical front she put up over the internet, she had the wisdom of lifetimes behind her. Not as many as her mother or her other immortal family members, but enough to know her own limits and the limits of others. “I'll allow you to carry the bracelet with you, along with whatever else will make you feel comfortable and protected from what I can do. If you feel as though I'm putting your life in imminent danger, you have my permission to use whatever force you feel is needed to save yourself. Me hitting on you or otherwise flirting with you doesn't count.”

Felicia grinned at him disarmingly. “The desire is definitely there, I'm not going to lie about that, because I do find you remarkably attractive. And you speaking Italian and attempting to ply me with alcohol really isn't helping fan those flames.

With that being said, the same rule applies to me. If I feel as though you are threatening my life, I'm prepared to use any means necessary to survive, though I hope it doesn't come to that.” She took a step closer to him, purposely invading his bubble of personal space. “I'll let you know what Alice told me once I feel that you've earned my trust. I might not tell you everything in one night. It might take over one thousand. And don't lie to me. I can sniff out lies like a bloodhound.” She took a step away from him and rested her back against the door frame. “Go get your jacket and your boots. We're going for a little ride, for the night is young and full of possibilities.”

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 2257
ф ф Mood: I should pee and go to bed.
ф ф Outfit: IN POAST
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: The Night is Young, Howling Bells. They actually sound a lot like Neko Case. Which means I need to buy their albums. FUCK YOU I LIKE FOLK/COUNTRY MUSIC.
ф ф Illustrations: IN POAST.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: Like srsly, I really have to pee. Really bad.

[Alessandro Moretti]

Abilities were unstable and unpredictable. They were never constant and always inconsistent. There was no correlation when it came to determining what abilities someone would manifest with. Except, that wasn’t strictly true. Though your DNA determined which ability you would possess, it had become somewhat clear to Alessandro that certain aspects of your lifestyle and personality dictated the kind of ability you would have. Theoretically speaking, somebody who prided themselves on their music would have an aural ability: sound manipulation, vocal persuasion – that kind of thing. Thusly, the Italian had decided that on April 4th, the reason he was able to fly was because he sought to be above everyone else. He had dreams and aspirations that soared through the sky.

Never again. Every second that his body was in the air only reaffirmed his belief that powers were dangerous. The catastrophic aftermath of that day those years ago was further confirmation of that fact: people should not have abilities. Those four and a half minutes were seared into his brain like the hot iron fizzling on a cows’ rear. And on the screen in front of him was another one of those people. Felicia Rahal. If his memory served him, she could manipulated the biological processes of the human body – and moreso – he firmly believed it was what was keeping her alive.

He couldn’t help but wonder then, that if her abilities were stripped from her – would she die? Was her body in a permanent biological stasis? Logically, that would be the only way she was able to survive. But take the electricity away from a light bulb and it dies. He couldn’t take that risk. As much as it loathed him to allow her to live when it would be so easy to put several bullets in her head, he knew he had to keep her safe. She was the wife of the woman who ensured he could keep a close eye on the one person in the world he cared for.

So he opted to allow her to think she was going to die. That would suffice. Dropping the bracelet through the hatch, Alessandro watched as it clanked against the stone.

“Non sarà indossare per esso tutta la note.” Alessandro huffed under his breath, the noise barely audible on her speaker.

Her laugh, however, was something not anticipated. He arched his eyebrow as she spoke; “You say that like you think it'll force me to put it on. Helena already knows I've slept with nearly half the Company, but I'll always return to her.”

Alessandro grinned. Did she think this was his big play? Did she think he was messing with her? He looked at her, eyes staring at hers as they looked around the doorframe, speaking into the air, and grinned.

“You wanna know what'll happen if you tell her I tried to sleep with you? She'd be like, 'Okay, once she's done, can you tell her to stop by the market to pick up some Half-and-Half? And tell her to pick up some graham crackers since the kids want some and we're fresh out.'”

“She probably would say just that.” Alessandro opened his mouth and inhaled, “But that would not stop what will go on inside of her head. She would wonder why her loving wife – her wife who could get any man she pleased – decided to approach the Company’s most secretive agent. An agent who is notorious for not wanting intimate contact with anybody.” He swallowed, this was his trump card? Far from it. He was not in the mood for games. This was just mindless fun, “Usually it would be the man begging at your foot, sí? Not the other way around. So your wife. Your precious Helena would ask herself why you sought me out. It would eat at her and consume her. It would overwhelm her thoughts. And though she would say it was okay and you would both play happy families with your mutt-“ He stopped, taking in her expression, before continuing, “—Sorry, your children, you would both know that the way her eyes met yours would not be the same. And much like a pot of water, it would boil and boil until it began to spill. And wouldn’t that be messy?”

Taking a step back, Alessandro looked to his study and watched her expression shift. This was his domain and he would rule it, “Put on the bracelet.”

A moments silence befell and it took Felicia to gesture obscenities toward him for the silence to be broken, “There. Happy? I don't even need to fucking have this on right now.”

The Italian’s lips curled into a sly grin, “I'm Ccntent.” He said, and opened the door.

And that, at its basis, was what he was: content. He wasn’t particularly sad, ‘nor was he somewhat happy. He was just… content. Living his life in a world of contentedness. Everything was okay. Always okay.
Except this. Despite him having the upper hand, something about this visit did not sit well with Alessandro at all. His house was his own private paradise. It was his and his alone. And now… Now somebody sought to invade and destroy it.

He chose not to answer her question as he walked to the kitchen. Of course he was enjoying it. Though her next line confused him a little and made him turn around. Helena stashed inhibitor serums around the house and, going by what he was seeing on the camera, Helena also used them on her wife. Which meant a few things; either Helena thought Felicia was dangerous and did inhibit her abilities, which in turn meant Alessandro’s theory was wrong – or Felicia was lying and her ability wasn’t being inhibited by the bracelet which meant she was trying to keep her ability in use, which by proxy meant his theory was correct, so the bracelet could stay and her death would be attributed to ‘I didn’t know’ and ‘it’s Company policy’.

He decided the former, “Then your wife thinks you are dangerous as well, seeing as she is having to use the serum – which is arguably more potent than the bracelets. Unless, of course, you are lying and your ability is still active. And it would not do to lie in my house.” A brief pause, “Though I am happy to take the bracelet off of you and have you injected with the serum, if you’d prefer. If it would make you feel safer. But I would prefer the more temporary solution to your… malattia. The bracelet stays on.”

He could tell from her expression that something was not right. Was she lying? But that didn’t matter, Alessandro needed to see if she was a light bulb though just as he opened his mouth to find out, she began to complain about her $1,100 jacket. Alessandro let off a breathy chuckle, “Buy another one.”

The Rahal-Soler family had a lot of wealth under their belts so it wouldn’t have been particularly hard to replace a simple jacket. A jacket, for that matter, that wouldn’t have been damaged by the blood. Alessandro couldn’t help but smile at her remark; a sign of the spoiled little child she was. Though she was almost a thousand years old, she still acted like a brooding teenager and it humoured Alessandro. It made her easy to manipulate and control.

And Alessandro enjoyed having control and he wasn’t about to lose it when she denied his wine, “You know as well as I do that it would not be in my best interest to kill you and perhaps... though you and I both know that is not why you’re here.”

Of course, she was here to discuss Alice, allegedly.

“Helena is going to fire you once she finds out you put this on me. Considering how much you value your work, and how lost you'd be without it, I suggest you remove this. If you don't, I'll call her and tell her you've restrained the mother of her children with an inhibitor—and I can guarantee she'll care more about that than me trying to pursue a liaison with you.” Felicia spoke with the firmness of someone who had assumed control (or attempted to assume) of a situation they had no right trying to gain the upper-hand on. Alessandro lifted the glass to his lips and took a hard swallow.
“Aside from me, the Company is your greatest asset in reuniting with Alice. A shame you'd be willing to throw both of those opportunities away over something so . . . unimportant as my trust.” Felicia continued.

Lowering the glass onto the marble surface, Alessandro tilted his head and held back a laugh. Either she was playing dumb or really was exactly that. Her words contradicted her actions. In fact, what she was saying contradicted everything. “See,” Alessandro waved his finger before placing it on his lip, “You know as well as I that your precious wife wouldn’t fire me.” Another gesture, “She knows that the standard procedure for any agent when they meet dangerous people is to inhibit their abilities, should they have one, and prevent harm to anybody. And seeing that you have already admitted to your wife thinking you are dangerous, this was the best course of action I could take without resorting to violence. Unless…” His eyes widened in a caricature of awe-struck realisation, “You were lying to me and the bracelet isn’t doing much.” He mocked before turning stern, “And stop talking about Alice. Non mi importa se hai parlato con lei oppure no.”

Another sip of the wine and Alessandro pushed past Felicia, brushing against her shoulder and ignoring her outstretched wrist. He walked carelessly toward his study and picked up the remote. Everything he was doing was for Alice. He didn’t need others telling him he could do better. This was the best he could do with what he had. And he liked it that way. She was his and nobody could say otherwise.

And despite his every attempt to ignore Felicia, one word screamed at him as if his ears were being held against a megaphone. One word he could not stand the sound of yet yearned to hear. Daughter.

She was not his daughter – not biological, at least. She didn’t look to him as being his child. He saw her as a monster.

“Lei parla di fiducia e di ignorare le mie richieste. Stop talking about her.”

Putting the glass on the table, the Italian pressed a button on his remote and the source switched to a projector; Company films. Specifically, Alice’s trials. A look of longing overtook his eyes as he watched Alice smile at the camera and laugh at Alessandro’s jokes. A solemn gaze of pride that only a father could give their child. The sound of Felicia’s voice was muffled in his focus on the video; like background noise in a busy mall though, much like in a mall, he heard snippets. Her name. Over and over again.

Without so much as turning away from the screen, Alessandro spoke bitterly; “Say her name once more and I will end your life.” Alessandro manoeuvred his body around and his eyes locked on to Felicia’s, “And she is not lost. She will never be lost.”

Alessandro sighed.
Felicia wasn’t going to leave and he was going to be no closer to having Alice forgive him.
So he stood up, “You want trust? Then tell me one thing and do not lie. If I am satisfied that you are telling the truth, I will deactivate the bracelet and leave with you.”

She’d already invaded his personal bubble when she was trying to explain whatever those rules were and now it was his turn. He stood not an inch from her and asked, “Without your power, will you die?”

[Felicia Soler]

Promises made for convenience
Aren't necessarily
What we need
Truth is a word
That's lost its meaning
The truth has become
Merely half-truth

He was making it incredibly difficult for her to put up with him for the night, and the more he talked, the more appealing the knife block across the kitchen began to look. She didn't need her ability to punch someone through the throat with a meat cleaver. But she soaked in what he was saying and crossed her arms, a clear sign that she was getting irritated. She knew she was the one at a disadvantage here since this was Alessandro's territory, so she'd have to play along and gradually tease him out past the strict boundaries of his comfort zone.

When it came to the subject of just how Helena would react to the revelation that Felicia had attempted to sleep with the Company's poster boy for abstinence education, she smirked at him. “Usually it would be the man begging at your foot, sí? Not the other way around.”

Felicia flipped her long brown hair over one shoulder and raised her eyebrows, giving him a smug look. “Not necessarily. I'm just that damn good at what I do.” If manipulation were an Olympic sport, she would have taken home the gold. Alessandro would probably squeak by with a bronze or possibly a silver. She'd perfected the whole 'outspoken, spoilt, angry twenty-something' attitude over the course of centuries, specifically because it led people to underestimate her—like Alessandro was doing right now.

She continued to listen to him to see what other such arrogant, assumptive bullshit psychoanalysis he'd come up with for her to pick apart with smartass retorts. “So your wife. Your precious Helena would ask herself why you sought me out. It would eat at her and consume her.

“What can I say? I love a good challenge against an equally matched competitor. The pursuit is the best part.” Felicia picked a few stray pieces of lint from the front of his shirt and flicked them away. “It makes the eventual victory much more rewarding.”

Why was he so hung up on what or would not go on through Helena's head because she slept around. He seemed awfully consumed by her exploits. Did she hear a tone of jealousy in between his words?

“It would overwhelm her thoughts. And though she would say it was okay and you would both play happy families with your mutt-” Alessandro stopped himself.

Felicia gestured for him to go on, amused. After everything he'd said and with how she knew he felt about godsends, did he honestly think that referring to her children as 'mutts' would piss her off? “I prefer to think of them as noisy, ankle-biting piranha leeches, but 'mutt' would be a step up. At least dogs are cute.”

“—Sorry, your children, you would both know that the way her eyes met yours would not be the same. And much like a pot of water, it would boil and boil until it began to spill. And wouldn’t that be messy?”

“God, you're trying so hard. This is, like, so sad. Come on, man, you've gotta give me something to work with here.”

Regarding her lie about the inhibitor serum, he countered her with, “Then your wife thinks you are dangerous as well, seeing as she is having to use the serum – which is arguably more potent than the bracelets. Unless, of course, you are lying and your ability is still active. And it would not do to lie in my house.”

Felicia sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. “No, dipshit—oh for fuck's sake, mira, chinga baboso . . . Per l'amor di Dio, sei fottuto denso . . . ” she muttered under her breath. “I used the serum on myself. She keeps it around the house in case we get attacked—not to use it on ourselves.” Eh, she was going to take the lie and run with it. God, he was dumber than she initially thought if he seriously believed Helena would use an inhibitor on her. Maybe an inhibitor to curb her indomitable sex drive, but never to inhibit her ability. For the few months that they'd both been without their powers, she'd come close to dying. It had taken nearly two months for the effects to become noticeable, and she definitely wasn't planning on wearing this bracelet for that long. “Cazzo, mi piacerebbe davvero uno schiaffo te in questo momento.”

“You know as well as I that your precious wife wouldn’t fire me.”

“You want to hold that thought while I go get my cell phone and call her and ask her right now? Care to hedge a bet on how long it'll take her to send an armed battalion of guards here to shoot you?--and me, but mostly you. I don't think you're a betting man when you know you're going to lose.”

He explained the Company's SOP when it came to detaining any godsend, which included inhibiting their abilities. “And seeing that you have already admitted to your wife thinking you are dangerous--”

“Oh my God, do you not understand what I just said? Okay. Here. I'll use small words. . . . I. Iniettato. Me stesso. Con. Le. Serum. Did you get that? Or are you just deliberately being obtuse?”

“--this was the best course of action I could take without resorting to violence. Unless . . . you were lying to me, and the bracelet isn’t doing much.”

“Are you kidding me? You fucking saw me put the thing on!” She held up the bracelet in front of his eyes, the green LED lights showing that it was in its 'activated' position. “If this isn't working, or if you think it's not working, it's not my fault you have shitty fuckin' equipment.”

The look in his eyes turned serious once again. “And stop talking about Alice. Non mi importa se hai parlato con lei oppure no.” When he walked past her, she was tempted to aim a well-placed kick to his rear end to watch him go sprawling, but thought better of it. Instead, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply for several seconds before following him out of the room and into his study.

“You said earlier that you shun intimate contact with anyone. That word has more than one meaning. It can mean being sexually involved, or it can also mean having an intense emotional bond with someone.” Glancing at the images being cast onto the screens by the projector, she saw Alice's young but familiar face. “I can't possibly imagine who you might feel that close to, can you?” She leaned against a desk and watched the expressions on his face as he looked over the archived footage for what had to have been at least the forty millionth time for him.

“Lei parla di fiducia e di ignorare le mie richieste. Stop talking about her.”

“No, I don't think I will. If you want me to stop talking about her,” she held out her wrist and pointed to the bracelet, “take this off.” She sat on the desk, not really caring whether she knocked any of his shit over. Picking up a loose binder next to her, she opened it up and flipped through the pages. Boring Company shit. She tossed the binder onto the ground and started picking through the papers on his desk instead before letting them slip through her fingers and onto the floor because she enjoyed knocking shit over. “Why does it rankle you so much whenever anyone talks about Alice? It sounds like you feel, dare I say it, guilty for the failure of your relationship with her. Hmmm.” She picked up the mostly full glass of wine he'd set down next to her and drank it down, then manoeuvred it between her fingers by its fragile stem, twirling it like a tiny baton.

A smile crossed her lips at his reaction to her words. She stared at the wine glass passing through her fingers until she felt Alessandro's eyes boring into her. “Death would be a great adventure.” Felicia placed the glass back on the table. “Though I can understand why she wants nothing to do with you since you abandoned her when she needed you the most. What kind of a father does that? Or perhaps its just your personal history repeating itself.” Her intent was to cut him to the bone, and words were generally much more effective than even the sharpest Damascus blade.

There were hundreds of emotions hiding in his gaze. Rage, pain, sadness . . . She enjoyed facing him down and watching him slowly crumble. Felicia continued to watch him, imagining that she could see miniscule cracks appear in his stoic veneer. Mischief managed, she thought, pushing herself away from the table and starting toward the door, giving the strong impression that she was preparing to leave. “Very well. I know a lost cause when I see one. I'll tell Helena I found the bracelet in her study and tried it on, not knowing what it was.”

Felicia paused in the doorway and sighed, hanging her head slightly before tucking her hair behind one ear and glancing at him from over her shoulder. “Have a good evening, Alessandro. . . . and thank you for the wine.” She left him in his study and walked back into the den where she retrieved her racing suit from where she'd placed it on the couch.

When she turned around, she nearly knocked him over, having not expected him to follow. “You want trust? Then tell me one thing and do not lie. If I am satisfied that you are telling the truth, I will deactivate the bracelet and leave with you.”

She feigned exasperation and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Okay, let's be real here. You're not going to be satisfied with any answer I give you since you'll just assume that I'm lying. But fine. Shoot.”

“Without your power, will you die?”

There were a number of ways she could have responded. She could have simply said 'yes'; she could have put on an Oscar-winning performance, crying about how she'd be dead in an hour and would never be able to say goodbye to her children; she could have forced her eyes to roll back in her head and 'pass out' at his feet, playing possum—or she could do the one thing she knew how to do best--

“Oh mio Dio, stai fottutamente scherzando? Non c'è modo che tu sei quel che cazzo stupido.”

--and be a bitch.

“Yes, I'll fucking die. È così che la mia capacità funziona, you dipshit. And don't fucking ask how long it'll take so you can sit here and watch me die. Could be five minutes. Could be an hour. Considering I dosed myself with an inhibitor serum before even coming here and now I've got this shit on me,” yet again, she held up the bracelet and waved it in front of him, allowing just a hint of panic and fear to set in her voice, “I don't know how much time I've got left. Probably not as much as either of us think.”

Grabbing him by the shoulder, she gently moved him out of her way and gathered up her helmet from the chair she'd tossed it onto when she'd entered. “You know what's also a real goddamn shame that I know you don't give a shit about?” She hadn't raised her voice above the volume of a normal speaking tone, and yet the cadence of her words gave the impression that she was yelling at him. “That you can't even look past your own hatred to see when someone is trying to help you. If you want to go drown in your self-pity and whine about how unfairly the world has treated you, and how people like me deserve to go to hell or don't deserve to exist, and how you abandoned the one person you love more than your own life—and, yes, that was your fucking fault—fine. But I'd rather die than be dragged down into your bullshit any more than I already am.”

Okay, maybe that was a little over the top. But it was both entirely true and believable, and that was what she'd been aiming for.

Felicia stared him down for at least half a minute, her gaze unwavering. This time, she wasn't going to be the first to look away. She walked up to Alessandro and nearly punched him in the chest as she thrust her arm toward him, the bracelet dangling from her wrist. “Trust me.”

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 2297
ф ф Mood: Listening to my playlist from the 1990s makes me feel really old.
ф ф Outfit: SEE PREVIOUS POSTS, YA?
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Lie To Me, Depeche Mode. Shut up. I'm in my nostalgic 1990 semi-goth electronica phase.
ф ф Illustrations: IN POAST.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: I remember when MTV was all about music videos and was all controversial and shit. Now it just sucks.

I'll unfuck my Felicia headers tomorrow. Later today. Whatever. IT'S FRIDAY BITCHES.

[Alessandro Moretti]

True to expectation, she was playing directly into his hand. Despite his words invoking a somewhat snide retort on Felicia’s behalf, everything she was saying was falling apart. He knew as well as he knew he was Italian that she hadn’t injected herself. He just wanted her to admit to it; that was all. She was trying to pry control from his fingertips without realising that she was in his house. Steal a gun and you’re going to get shot. His calm demeanour remained resilient through her words; “I prefer to think of them as noisy, ankle-biting piranha leeches, but 'mutt' would be a step up. At least dogs are cute.”

And it was true. They were cute. And Alessandro had no doubt in his mind that her children were, too. But that wasn’t what he was trying to do. He was not trying to insult her and with his question, came her answer and naturally, it prompted a response.

“Trying? Trying to do what?” He grinned, and continued about how Helena thought Felicia dangerous.

Alessandro could see that Felicia did not like to be wrong. She also enjoyed control. She enjoyed the thought of herself being at the advantage and from what he could tell, she was good at thinking up lies to help continue her own selfish endeavours. And now… now her lie crumbled like an avalanche, “I used the serum on myself.” And now he knew for sure she hadn’t. Perhaps, though, he could keep his lie going.

Alessandro held back a grin and arched his eyebrow, keeping his thoughts to himself. And though she was telling the truth; he did see her put on a bracelet and activate it, he was certain it was working exactly as intended. He turned on his heels and walked into the office and the images flickered in front of his screen; videos of Alice’s experiments.

“I can’t possibly imagine who you might feel that close to, can you?” She spoke almost mockingly.

Alessandro’s eyes continued to stare at the screen – that was, at least, until she decided to say Alice’s name again. They both knew why she kept saying her name – it was a power play. And one Alessandro knew he’d lose. It was common knowledge by this point what his weakness was – it happened to be the same as his greatest strength. It was that young girl he had come to love and subsequently lose all those years ago.

“… take this off.” Felicia almost demanded and Alessandro paused the film; a familiar, though very young, Fiona Kingsleigh was on full view of the camera – with Alice at her side. His eyes dropped to the bracelet and he grinned, shrugged and moved over to grab his wine, ignoring the soft patter of paper hitting the floor, “Why does it rankle you so much whenever anyone talks about Alice? It sounds like you feel, dare I say it, guilty for the failure of your relationship with her. Hmmm.”

Alessandro watched intently as she downed the rest of his wine, “I do not feel guilty. I feel many things. Not guilt.”

And every time she spoke, it had become clear to him that she was just trying to embed daggers in his heart. The problem with that, however, was that he knew – as well as she – that he had put his own daggers in and was used to the pain. She could twist the blades already there and not much more. It still hurt though he could get over it.

But it didn’t end there. Alessandro was good at reading people. He could see through social cues and pick up on behaviours. If somebody scratched their ear whilst talking, they were usually nervous. Eyes looking around, they want to leave. Say you’ll tell Helena everything if the bracelet was removed and then change your mind to keep a secret, and chances are you’re very much lying. So now was the time to lead her into his trap. She thought he was trying? He couldn’t understand exactly what he was supposedly trying to do though there was no doubt in his mind that it was meant to be something bad.

Knowing now that every word she spewed was a lie, he had the ammunition he needed. He moved over to one of his cabinets and opened the drawer, asking her if she’d die without her power. Yes.

She would fucking die.

“And you value your life?” Of course she did. If she didn’t value her own life, she would not have made something of it and even Alessandro would be a fool to deny her that, “Because it seems to me that you are trying too hard to invoke a response out of me. You have done one thing I have asked,” His tone lowered itself back to the resolute calmness he maintained at the beginning of the conversation, “So why would you willingly inject yourself, knowing you were to die? Or, why would you tell Helena that it was you who put the bracelet on after getting curious when you, as much as anyone else, know I am most likely the most hated man in the Company.”

Turning around, Alessandro threw the folder he’d retrieved from the cabinet drawer and turned around, about to throw it to her though as he did, Felicia flung her wrist in front of his nose like a child desperate for attention, “Trust me.”

Alessandro placed the folder in her hand and pushed past her, picking up the glass and moving back into the kitchen.

“I cannot trust you if you keep lying. ”

Trust was a big word in Alessandro’s eyes. It held a lot of meaning and to trust someone, it meant you were putting your safety in their hands and letting them see your soul. A heavy burden to carry. Alessandro wasn’t willing to give Felicia the sweet victory of allowing her to carry this burden of his.

Placing the glass on the side, Alessandro turned around and leaned against the counter; looking out toward the doorway once more – assuming she would be at the door momentarily. Now he would reveal his own lie; to ensure she trusted him, “I was not looking for an answer. I was seeing how you would answer. And you lied again. I never said you could not take the bracelet off. Do you think the Company would really allow me to keep hold of an inhibitor? Pensavo che fossi più intelligente di così.” He rubbed his hands down his top and swallowed; “That folder belongs to the person who ensured I would never see her again. She almost killed her. And if you want me to trust you, I will need something from you as well.”

A moments pause and the Italian moved over to a small table, picking up a jacket from the back of the chair, “I want you to undo what the Company did to her.”

Alessandro knew people.
He knew how they worked.
What made them tick.

Felicia wasn’t like the others – and he fully intended to use that to his advantage.

He wanted Felicia to bring back Fiona’s memories.

“And in return, I will subject to whatever it is you want to inflict on me.”

[Felicia Soler]

“I do not feel guilty. I feel many things. Not guilt.”

Felicia rolled her eyes. That was the biggest load of bullshit she'd heard in a long time. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, dude. You're shit at lying, you know that?” The pain he felt might have been muted by months and years of him berating himself, but it was still there, and she was going to prod that wound with a hot poker for as long as she could.

“And you value your life?”

“Are you a fucking idiot?” She wasn't even going to dignify that question with an answer. Who the fuck didn't value their life if they were alive? Only a fucking moron would ask that.

Alessandro paused while she replied. “Because it seems to me that you are trying too hard to invoke a response out of me. You have done one thing I have asked.”

“Putting on the bracelet? Only because you wouldn't fucking let me in if I didn't.” Now that she knew it was all a ruse to see if she'd actually take orders from him, she slipped the bracelet down her wrist and wriggled her hand free, then threw the silver object at the back of his head when he wasn't looking. “And I never said how long it would be before I died.” Felicia rolled her eyes. She would have died eventually; probably in a year.

He continued thinking aloud, and Felicia watched him as he opened a cabinet drawer and pulled out a folder. “Or, why would you tell Helena that it was you who put the bracelet on after getting curious when you, as much as anyone else, know I am most likely the most hated man in the Company.”

She took the file from him and opened it, perusing its contents without really paying much attention to them. Fiona Kingsleigh. That name rang a bell. Wasn't she the person who kept patching the chatroom every night? bowtothemonarch or something . . . “And why do you assume that you're the most hated man there?” There had to be people there that had a far worse reputation than he did. The Company wasn't exactly known for its track record of hiring 'quality' employees. “Aren't they rather fond of people like you who think that people like me aren't even human?” Which was a stupid thing to think. They were human, but for whatever reason, Mother Nature had thought it necessary to bless them with superior genetics.

Felicia sighed, annoyed, when he told her that he couldn't trust her if she kept lying. It was becoming obvious to her that she'd need to fall back on a different tactic to come out on top. He was proving to be an admirable opponent in the battle of wits, which was something she hadn't encountered in at least a century. She rather enjoyed the mental change in scenery, from playing checkers to playing chess.

Closing the folder as he left the room, she tucked it under her arm as she contemplated her next move and followed him into the kitchen. It had been quite a while since someone had been able to pique her interest mentally and engage her in a challenge—and she loved it.

“I was not looking for an answer. I was seeing how you would answer. And you lied again. I never said you could not take the bracelet off. Do you think the Company would really allow me to keep hold of an inhibitor? Pensavo che fossi più intelligente di così.”

“I'm far more intelligent than you give me credit for.” She placed the folder on the counter he was leaning against and crossed her arms. “Well?”

“That folder belongs to the person who ensured I would never see her again. She almost killed her. And if you want me to trust you, I will need something from you as well.”

He needed something from her? That was fucking rich. It was like he actually expected her to lend a hand, which wasn't going to happen. He had nothing to offer her in return that she couldn't get on her own. “And I should feel inclined to help you why, exactly?”

Alessandro picked up a jacket hanging over one of the chairs across from her at the kitchen table, and chose his words carefully. “I want you to undo what the Company did to her.”

Felicia gestured with one hand for him to 'go on.' “ . . . and? You still haven't sold me on why I should actually give enough of a shit to help you. I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Alice.”

“And in return, I will subject to whatever it is you want to inflict on me.”

Okay, that was it. She couldn't keep herself from laughing and raised an eyebrow at him as the corner of her lip twitched upwards into half a smirk. “What do you think I wish to 'inflict on you' as you put it?” How far could she push him before he completely snapped? She liked to push everyone to their limits to see what she could get away with before her actions came back to bite her in the ass.

Now that she knew her ability hadn't been inhibited, she decided to put it to use, and caught him off-guard while his attention was elsewhere. As he turned to face her with his jacket in hand, she launched herself at him in a blur of movement, covering the distance between them in less than a second. She pinned him between her body and the nearest wall, brought her arms over his shoulders, and crossed her wrists behind his neck as if she meant to embrace him. Her ability provided her with an immense amount of strength which meant that Alessandro wouldn't be going anywhere until she released him.

Felicia went in for the kill when she was certain that she had him under control (at least physically) and lunged forward, snaring his lips in an aggressive kiss. It took a moment for him to reciprocate the gesture, and when he did she enjoyed herself immensely. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and bit into it, just enough to cause a minor amount of pain, but not hard enough to draw blood. Her body relaxed enough to the point where she felt comfortable letting him step away from the wall. Once there was enough room for her to manoeuvre, she wrapped her legs around his waist and steadied herself against him, squeezing his flanks between her thighs.

She broke away from the kiss and spoke in a hushed tone, teasing him with her lips. “I know the game you're playing, Alessandro. You're trying to use me . . . and I like it.” She looked into his eyes and winked at him, then let herself back down to the floor.

Leaving him in the kitchen, she walked into the denand retrieved the black helmet she'd thrown onto the couch when she'd entered his residence. Alessandro's footsteps followed soon after, and she passed the helmet to him before picking up her folded up racing suit and the helmet she'd been wearing when she'd arrived. “But we have business to attend to. I'm going to take you for a little ride, and whatever happens happens.” She walked to the front door and let herself out. “Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle before, Alessandro? Because if you haven't, you're in for a real treat.”

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 1366
ф ф Mood: Fucking freezing and tired.
ф ф Outfit: SEE PREVIOUS POSTS, YA?
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Will add in later. I need to sleep.
ф ф Illustrations: IN POAST.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: Thanks for the new header, CO!

[Alessandro Moretti]

“Are you a fucking idiot?” Felicia hissed and pursed her lips at the last word, no doubt an attempt to emphasise just how much of an idiot Alessandro was. He couldn’t help but let out the slightest of sighs as she rolled her eyes; sure, he knew the answer to his own question, but he wanted validation. He wanted her to know who was in control. If nothing else, it was more for himself.

When she didn’t answer, he spoke up and pointed out the flaws in everything she had been saying. And, as if by magic, the sudden click of cogs falling into place to start off a chain reaction of realization and acceptance, Felicia spoke once more; “Putting on the bracelet? Only because you wouldn't fucking let me in if I didn't.”

She didn’t seem impressed, almost annoyed were it not for her childish demeanour. And that was good. It was wanted. Not necessarily unwarranted, though definitely something Alessandro had wanted to achieve. He wanted to get inside of her head. It wasn’t that he enjoyed it, it was more a case of necessity to his own survival. If he could wrangle his way into her mind, he could pluck at her strings and alter her perceptions. It was a skill of his, you could say.

Sliding his forefinger across the various folders inside his cabinet, Alessandro flinched as the metal band flew into the back of his head. His lips curled into the wicked and scheming grin he’d been hiding for so long, “And I never said how long it would be before I died.”

Of course she didn’t but that was irrelevant. When you want a piece of string, you don’t ask how long it is. The fact of the matter was: she would die. That, and that alone, was enough to give him ultimate control. He may not have had the physical advantage over her: he knew what her ability was. But mental? Perhaps. He was unsure. He hoped he did.

Turning around, he dropped the file in her hand and watched her briefly as she flicked through the pages. No sooner had she opened it and opened her mouth to ask why he thought he was hated, had he returned to the kitchen and grabbed another glass of wine. The pain at the back of his head was wearing thin. He suspected it wouldn’t even leave a mark.

“Passion.” He answered, “People want me dead. They are passionate about it. It isn’t about how many people hate me but how well the few that do dislike me. And they dislike me a lot.”

And it was true. He could have been liked by many and only hated by one person but if that person disliked him enough, they could have made his life a living hell. And Helena: she wanted him dead. He was sure of it. It only exacerbated his feelings toward… ‘specials’.

He ignored her next question and simply changed topic: trust.

Trust was a funny thing. It was indeed everything to him though did that mean it was also the reason for him to do anything? Of course not. It was, however, the basis for a lot of relationships; friendships or otherwise.

“And I should feel inclined to help you why, exactly?”

He arched his eyebrow at this answer and picked up a wine glass, running his forefinger around the rim before placing it back on the counter and grabbing the bottle of wine, “Because you need something from me. You would not have come to me otherwise. I am not sure what it is you want or need – or even if this is a game to you, but you are wanting me. And I am needing this in return.” A pause, “I want you to undo what the Company did to her.”

'“ . . . and? You still haven't sold me on why I should actually give enough of a shit to help you. I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Alice.” She responded.

“And in return, I will subject to whatever it is you want to inflict on me.” He replied and she let out a rather ridiculous attempt at laughing. A confused, almost mocking, expression flashed across her lips and Alessandro placed the bottle on the counter; his fingers wrapping loosely around the crystal glass.

“What do you think I wish to 'inflict on you' as you put it?”

Alessandro remained silent. He knew what was to happen and so he mentally prepared himself; bringing the glass to his lips, he took a large gulp. Perhaps the term desperate wasn’t the one he’d use, though he certainly felt as if he would have had to be in order to follow through with what he suspected was about to happen.

Felicia gave into her physical urges far too easily and it was that primal instinct for lust that made her so easy to understand. She may have been smart, manipulative, and even sly to the point of ingenious, but she was predictable. And it was that predictability that gave Alessandro the upper hand he needed. He clenched his fist and put the glass on the counter, his eyes silent and plain against her own loud, obnoxious stare.

He picked up his jacket, knowing full well she was to jump on him at any moment, Alessandro made sure to relax his body; his fists unclenched and his shoulders dropped.

No sooner had he picked up his jacket and turned around, had she pinned him against the wall. Her cold, full lips forced themselves against his in a frenzied plea for power. Her arms wrapped around his neck though his eyes stared bitterly at her own. He didn’t try to fight her – that would have been a lost cause.

It was a nice kiss – and one, he feared, ended far too soon. Though showing constraint, when she bit on his lip, Alessandro made an effort to let off a loud sigh despite the sharp, pin-like pain. Her displeasure became evidenced in her meagre attempts at trying to regain control. Discipline was everything. Alessandro had to trust in his own body and ensure he did not give in to any vulgar thoughts that may cross his mind.

Though, through it all, she held the kiss. He knew she wasn’t going to stop until he did something. So, instead of fighting (or not, as the case may be), Alessandro opted to go for more tact; his hands slowly feathered up her spine. The gentle caress of his fingers against her sensitive skin made its way up to her shoulders; where he pulled her body closer to his. His lips pressed tightly against hers; his own forceful kiss returning hers.

She allowed him some room; just enough for a slight tease on her part and Alessandro groaned. Not in pleasure or frustration. No. It was more in anxious impatience. It seemed to him that she was trying too hard. Too hard to force herself onto him. Too hard to regain control. Too hard to be domineering.

“I know the game you're playing, Alessandro. You're trying to use me . . . and I like it.”

She winked and Alessandro ran his tongue over his teeth, “I am a selfish man.”

The Italian’s eyes followed her body as they wandered into the hallway. She picked up her helmet and threw it to him. He caught it and tilted his head, “I think you know what you want to subject me to. Inflict upon me. So why did you ask?”

And before allowing her to speak, Alessandro placed threw the helmet back onto the sofa and in one swift motion, grabbed a hold of her waist and pulled her lower body against his, the racing suit dropping to the floor. His thumb perused the skin just beneath her leather trousers.

“But we have business to attend to.” He ignored her, “I'm going to take you for a little ride, and whatever happens happens.” Again, he ignored her.

It was all about keeping control. Everything they were doing was a power play.
And it was a game Alessandro did not intend to lose.

He planted a gentle kiss on her check and ran his fingers up her figure and explored her body before pulling the keys from her corset, and responded to her question.

“More than you would think. Tell me, Felicia, where are we going?” He said, pulling on his jacket and picking up the helmet once more, “Because I will need to know where I am going to be bringing us.”

[/font][/font][/quote][/div]

[Felicia Soler]

Center on the wide horizon.
Focus on the galaxy.
Sweep away your expectations.
And recognise your enemies.

But here you're talking to yourself,
You're stripping off for someone else.
You've got to learn to love yourself,
It's all that counts; there's little else.

There was an intensity about him that she found delightful. It came as little surprise when he snatched her again in an effort to continue the rather intimate moment they'd shared in the kitchen. “I think you know what you want to subject me to. Inflict upon me. So why did you ask?”

She dropped the racing suit she'd been holding to the ground as he pulled their bodies together, and her heart started to race as he made a rather teasing attempt to remove the taut leather pants she'd managed to squeeze herself into earlier in the evening. “Actually,” her voice was nearly breathless, “it wasn't my intention to come here and share your bed for the evening. But I always come prepared.” The only reason she had come to visit him was to break through his walls and get him into a vulnerable spot—which seemed to be failing miserably. Unfortunately for her, he was quite adept at maintaining control . . . and maybe that was his weakness. Pride. Pride was a weakness.

As long as she knew that was what he was doing and went along with it and continued to let him think that he was in control, she could work with that.

He had a very deft, gentle touch and almost intuitively knew which of her buttons to push to elicit the reaction that he wanted. She would have complained, but since she was a creature of pleasure, she simply went with it and allowed him to handle her however he pleased. It wasn't long before two of his fingers dipped between her breasts and took hold of the set of keys she'd hidden there for safe-keeping. Once he had the keys within his grasp, he abruptly stepped away from her, pulled on his jacket, and retrieved the helmet he'd tossed onto the couch.

“More than you would think. Tell me, Felicia, where are we going?” he asked as he made his way to the front door. She was still somewhat in shock. Now she wasn't sure whether she wanted to continue with her original plan for the evening, or flay all the clothing from his body and fuck him in the foyer. Either would have worked. “Because I will need to know where I am going to be bringing us.”

Felicia stared at him through half-lidded eyes and took a moment to pick up the racing suit she'd dropped moments before. On any normal day, she would have killed anyone who even suggested that they were going to drive her vehicle—but this was different. It was like she was walking a tight-rope. If she overstepped bounds with him, she'd fall off. She raised an eyebrow seductively at him and picked up her helmet before meeting him at the door. “I'll bet you're an incredible fuck.” She took a step closer to him and pressed her lips to the side of his neck, just under his jawline, nipping at his skin. In the time that she'd been in his house, his scent was the only one that lingered. If he ever had houseguests, they either stayed outside, or weren't there long enough for their scents to absorb into anything. “It's a shame that your house only smells like you. You could make several people very happy . . . ” Her tongue flicked over his skin, and she closed her free hand over the hand that was holding her keys, though she made no move to relinquish them from him.

“The destination's already been plugged into the GPS,” she hissed into his ear. “Now get on the fucking bike.”

Felicia stepped aside and opened the door for him before following him out. Once they reached the bike, she flipped up the seat long enough to stow the racing suit in the compartment underneath, then donned her helmet as Alessandro mounted the green contraption. Behind the helmet's dark visor, she grinned and swung her leg over the motorcycle's console, then settled herself comfortably into Alessandro's lap. Pressing a large, glowing green button just below the speed and RPM gauges, the beast rumbled to life and she placed her hands on top of Alessandro's on the bike's handgrips. The GPS had already been queued up to their destination; a regional children's hospital not too far from where he lived. “Well?” She squeezed her fingers around his hands. “You never specified where I had to sit . . . and this is my favourite position.”

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 873
ф ф Mood: Work tiemz nao.
ф ф Outfit: See previous posts!
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Afterglow, Garbage
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: None.

[Alessandro Moretti]

Felicia was ever playful and it reminded him of an adolescent going through puberty. Or, perhaps, a twenty-one year old that had never even sipped an alcoholic drink before trying their very first glass of white wine. It was amusing to watch and the sheer naivety of what was happening could have even been considered somewhat adorable if it wasn’t for the fact that it was annoying. But, alas, it needed to be done.

Felicia was stubborn, child-like, and incomprehensibly irritating but she was also smart and he had no doubts in his mind that Felicia knew Alessandro’s own game. Which was alright: it put them on an even playing field. If you can’t beat someone, there was no sense in trying to. Just get even. It made so sense to try and out-do somebody though Alessandro couldn’t help but think on her reasons for trying as hard as she was. It perplexed him. He was clearly disinterested in any form of relationship with Felicia.

“Actually,” He spoke breathlessly – almost exhilarated by his actions, “it wasn't my intention to come here and share your bed for the evening. But I always come prepared.”

Is that what she thought was going to happen? That he was going to allow her into his sanctum and do something he considered to be one of the most sensuous of experiences that should only be experienced with the person who you could truly call your own. He had only ever had one sexual partner in his life and he was content for it to remain that way.

It was a messy affair when physical feelings were added to an equation.
“I do not doubt it but I am not going to bed you.” He mocked her. At least, that was his intent; she was always prepared, right?

Though with eyes that transfixed on and consumed by her own carnal desires, Felicia opened her mouth in an attempt to seduce him, “I'll bet you're an incredible fuck.”

Her warm lips once more pressed against his skin, on the side of his neck; a little nip and her tongue brushed against his collarbone, “It's a shame that your house only smells like you. You could make several people very happy . . . ”

Alessandro exhaled and turned his eyes to match hers; their height difference seemed inconsequential to the moment as her toes stretched on their tips to balance out the several inches between them. His smile was somewhat more genuine though his stature remained stone-like. He was admiring her initiative to try and get inside of his head. Perhaps this could have been a fun evening.

As her hands wrapped over his; Alessandro’s eyes dropped to look and his smile faded entirely. The size difference of their hands flashed vivid images of when he was charged with looking after Alice. She would regularly place her hands against the back of his to compare them and it was special.

His stomach turned; she was trying. That much was clear. And it felt as if she was succeeding. Alessandro did not like that in the slightest. His spare arm moved up her body and shaped around the contours of her jaw, a subtle, lob-sided smile was on his expression matched with the distant and longing eyes. Why did Felicia have to do this?

Without holding any kind of gaze, Alessandro pulled his hands from her and maneuvered past her body. He picked up her suit, tossed it to her and picked up his own helmet. He had to clear his mind. Riding did that. Silence did that.

So he did. He remained silent.

“The destination's already been plugged into the GPS,” She spoke as he left his house and tapped in the security alarm code.

It was clear that she didn’t like his abruptness as her tone was almost venomous, “Now get on the fucking bike.” She hissed.

Alessandro approached the bike and smiled; his eyes taking in the whole visage. It truly was beautiful. It had matt black trimmings with a bright, blazed green body. A Kawasaki Ninja, he’d assumed. Truly a master of craftsmanship. From his memory, it had two power modes and boasted a four-cylinder 1441cc engine and that with the traction control, rear-wheel hop reduction, digital fuel injection and a streamlined, aerodynamic body meant that it would have been a great ride. He couldn’t help but glisten with child-like excitement at the bike.

“It’s beautiful.” This time, it was almost genuine.

As he set himself on the bike, Alessandro adjusted his helmet and ran his forefinger over the various buttons and switches; taking in its majesty as much as he could.

A majesty that was quickly destroyed when Felicia crept under his arm and forced herself onto his lap. Her body against him felt intrusive and he held back an exhale and just rolled his eyes underneath the visor. Her body leant forward, pushing herself against him; her hands pushing against his own on the handgrips. He revved the bike and shook his head.

“Sit where you want.” He said, closing his body over hers; giving themselves the optimum amount of aerodynamics and safety. If, for whatever reason, something were to happen; Alessandro’s body pushed against hers would have protected her from any immediate collision. His chest pressed against her back as he twisted the handgrip further.

The engine kicked into life and as it did, the GPS sparked and the directions came onto the screen; a small childrens hospital. He arched his eyebrow, though did not question it. He was sure there was a reason.

Kicking off from the ground, Alessandro grinned. He hadn’t ridden a bike in a long time; the added weight of two people made the initial start a lot slower than he wanted though what he lost at the start, he gained very quickly as arm on the speed-o-meter steadily rose. The air brushing past them as they drove made him feel young again.

“Why the hospital?” He spoke into the microphone of the helmet which held a rather advanced piece of closed-ranged communication. The helmets were linked. “I don’t see why you want me here,” Alessandro sounded almost confused as he leant to the left to turn, forcing himself further against Felicia in an impulsive act of keeping her safe should anything happen.

[/font][/font][/quote][/div]

[Adele D'Alteau]

I can't divide or hide from me.
I don't know who I'm meant to be.
I guess it's just the person that I am.
Often I've felt that I don't wade
Into the gift of my mistake.
Again, again I'm wrong, and I confess:

I've been losing myself,
My desire, I can't hide.
No reason, am I for.

Blythedale Children's Hospital
Valhalla, New York

“I do not doubt it but I am not going to bed you.”

“You make it sound so clinical.” He was always so proper. She chalked it up to English not being his first language. Slang was a hard thing to pick up on in a tongue you hadn't been born speaking.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Had to buy it. It tops out around 200 miles an hour. It's fun.” She hadn't been caught by the cops yet. They'd certainly tried, but her name carried with it quite a bit of clout, and greasing palms also helped. They'd never charge her with bribery.

Felicia settled herself in his lap and grinned as the engine turned over and roared to life. The sensation of his chest against her back wasn't unexpected, but it still sent a pleasurable tingle down her spine. With each switch in gears, the sudden change in acceleration pressed her body against Alessandro's and she bore down on his groin each time they reached a stoplight. She could feel the tautness of his muscles through their layers of clothing and reached behind her to slip a hand up under his shirt while waiting for the light to change. His skin felt feverish, and where her fingers danced over his flesh, she felt him tense up ever so slightly, trying to focus on the road ahead.

She was familiar with this particular stretch of road and knew that at this time of night with few to no cars on the road, the light would take at least a minute to change. Grinning devilishly from behind her visor, the hand on his belly shifted direction and tickled his skin as it moved down toward the front of his pants. Before he could protest or shift out of her reach, she had his jeans unbuttoned, and her fingers delved underneath his clothes, toying with his boxers. “Huh. Interesting. For some reason you struck me more as someone who'd either wear tightie whities or just forgo undergarments altogether. But boxers are nice.” She grasped hold of him through the starched fabric (that figured; he probably ironed his boxers, too) and gently tugged on him, manipulating him between her fingers. Even if he was filling his mind with the purest of thoughts, she knew that those were much less powerful than the body reacting to its natural instincts.

The light changed and she leaned forward, removing her hand from his pants, and gripped the bike's handles once again. She wanted to either drive him to the point of feeling severely uncomfortable or to the point where he'd stop the bike to go fuck her against a tree. Whichever came first, really.

The remainder of the ride was spent in relative silence aside from the occasional moan that escaped her lips as their bodies rubbed together. The vibration of the Ninja's powerful engine rumbling between her legs wasn't helping to quell her growing arousal. There was a purpose to her actions, though. She'd been drawing tiny amounts of energy from him and storing it within her cells, preparing herself for what she was planning on doing once they reached the hospital. Alessandro wouldn't have noticed anything, save for the blissful numbness which accompanied the symbiotic aspect of her ability. The sensation could easily have been chalked up to the two glasses of wine he'd had prior to giving in to her request to leave his house.

“Why the hospital?” Alessandro asked, sounding perplexed. The hospital was about six miles from his house, and thus the ride was a bit short-lived. Neither of them were really able to appreciate the full extent of the motorcycle's capabilities as they'd only been using the surface streets for travel. “I don’t see why you want me here.”

She hopped off the bike once it came to a full stop in the hospital's parking lot. Finding a space wasn't much of an issue since it was the middle of the night, and the motorcycle could fit between cars in a pinch. Felicia removed her helmet and hugged it under her arm as she knocked the kickstand into place with her foot. “Because I'm going to show you something that might blow your evo-phobic little mind. No, it doesn't involve taking you up to a cancer ward and going from room to room telling you, 'All these children have cancer, and they're all evos' to make you feel guilty. You're Catholic. Guilt is built into your DNA. You guilt yourself well enough without my help by sitting alone in your office, turning the lights on and off while listening to Un Bel Di Vedremo, crying about why Alice doesn't love you any more. It's pathetic, really.” She half-expected him to slap her the instant the words were out of her mouth. If he had, all bets would have been off. Regardless of how many cameras were stationed around the parking lot, she would have taken him to the ground and fucked him on the pavement until he passed out. Either that, or she would have ripped him to shreds. Or both.

She walked across the lot and through the pair of sliding glass doors which led into the emergency area. Save for the night nurses behind the desk, the emergency department was completely empty, which was a good thing—not because she didn't want an audience (the gods only knew how much she craved attention), but because it meant that for a full moon, no child had done something incredibly stupid while their parents weren't watching—like sticking their hand into a meat grinder, or shoving a fork into an electric outlet. God, she really didn't miss the days of doing her residency. So many potential Darwin Awards in the making there.

The nurse behind the desk looked up as they approached. The dark haired woman accompanied by the man looked vaguely familiar, like someone she'd recently seen on television. “How can I help you?”

Felicia glanced at the nurse's nametag. Justin Case, RN. She chuckled. “Wow. Your parents must have either been really funny people, or they really hated you.”

Justin smirked at her and shifted a few papers aside on the desk. Whoever had been here last had done a piss poor job of organising all the paper charts. “Probably a little of both.” He shared in her laughter. “At least I didn't get bullied for it. I guess people thought it was too easy since my name . . . the jokes just write themselves.” His gaze shifted briefly to the man standing next to her, then back to Felicia. “Are you here to visit your child? You can just go right up to their room. Don't need to check in or anything.” Judging by the way the smile fell from the woman's face and morphed into an awkward grin, he realised his mistake.

“Sorry, we're not--”

“Yeah, sorry, my bad. I just assume that every couple who comes in here are . . . ” he sighed. “Well, this is very awkward now.”

“It's fine. I'm a surgeon upstate from here and I've done the same thing. These two women came in once and I thought they were partners. Nope. Sisters. I mean, one of them was a lesbian, but yeah.” The smile returned to her lips. “Anyhoo, my name is Felicia Rahal. I'm here to perform a miracle. Can you direct me to your ICU?”

Oh, that was why he recognised her. “I think I just saw your mother on CNN earlier tonight. I was only half-paying attention to the interview.”

“Don't let the last name intimidate you. We're . . . mostly harmless.” She winked at him charmingly.

He pointed to a set of double doors to his left. “The elevators are through there. Just take them up to the third floor.” Justin watched as they left. It was always nice to meet a fellow evo. He still didn't feel comfortable coming out of that particular closet. He was both an empath and a telepath, and the only reason why he hadn't questioned what she wanted to do in the ICU was because without really intending on doing it, he'd barely brushed the surface of her mind to see if she was telling the truth. Sometimes it just kind of happened.

Felicia thanked him and approached the door which opened automatically once she got within range of its motion sensor. She spied the set of elevators at the end of the hall and pressed the button marked UP, then stepped inside as soon as the doors slid open. “'Love in an elevator! Livin' it up when I'm goin' down!'”

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 1600
ф ф Mood: NENNNNNN
ф ф Outfit: See previous posts.
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Magic Doors, Portishead
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: None.

[Alessandro Moretti]

“Had to buy it. It tops out around 200 miles an hour. It's fun.” Felicia spoke and Alessandro nodded, almost agreeing that he would have had to do the same.

“I can imagine.” He said, placing his leg over the bike and getting comfortable, followed suite by the lissom body of Felicia Rahal. She seemed to fit comfortably between him and the bike and it made his heart sink in rumination of what could have been. It was dawning on him that, perhaps, he was missing more than just Alice in his life.

His thoughts, however, faded as quickly as they came when the engine roared into life and Alessandro made himself homely on the motorcycle. The shivers that ran through Felicia’s spine reflected in her muscles; her fingers almost dug into the back of his hands for a brief moment, the way her head dipped ever so slightly to the pulsing of the engine, and her posture: tense. No. Alessandro wouldn’t let himself fall for any of the primitive emotions and urges that could, potentially, scurry through his mind like a Black Widow spider on a summers’ evening; beautiful though deadly. He couldn’t let that happen. So, kicking the vehicle into life, Alessandro set off with Felicia in tow.

The wind was cool against Alessandro’s coat. The pull of the air as it grazed past his body kept him focused and alert. Every car he buzzed past ensured the exhilaration of the ride was always at its peak. And despite his utter resentment toward Felicia and all that she was, there was a certain degree of comfort that he found against her warmth.

With each turn, brake, and bump of the bike, Alessandro found himself spooned against the woman in his lap, his own body acting as a protective shell for her. It could have been a subconscious need to protect those around him, his fatherly instincts kicking in, or a deep-rooted desire for physical contact though, whatever the reason, Alessandro found himself keeping his body tight against Felicia’s own. And, to him, it felt nice. Not unexpected, not strictly unwarranted, though most certainly not wanted – but it was nice.

Alessandro felt Felicia tense up with the vibrations of the engine roaring through her entire body and it made him smirk, if only a little. Her waist rubbed against his own body as they came to a red light and Alessandro held back an uncomfortable groan. It was not that he was particularly uncomfortable with the situation, it was more to do with the simple fact that he was uncomfortable with being this close to another human (irrespective of who it was). He didn’t like it. He kept his eyes fixated in front of him and his mind filled with thoughts of an unsavoury nature. The way she was behaving was completely uncouth and it did not sit well with him.

As an aside from the physical and mental connotations of what she was doing, there was a certain degree of irresponsibility on her part that came with her actions. They were riding an extremely powerful motorcycle and her actions and mannerisms could have gotten them killed. There were road safety laws for a reason!

The Italian sneered to himself at the idea that she may have some sort of respect for anything. It was clear that Felicia had a completely disregard for the law – she had proven it several times over and as her deft fingers made their way underneath his shirt, Alessandro tensed up; her hands brushing against his body in a teasing power-play. He exhaled into the microphone loud enough for her to hear. The light in front of them remained red. She must have found it amusing as her hands drifted downward, toward his jeans.

Alessandro swallowed and willed the light to turn green so that he could force her away from his sanctum without risking his own life further than he already had. No such luck. His jeans came undone and he felt her hands tease at his underwear; “Huh.” She teased, “Interesting.” Alessandro kept quiet, hoping she would stop. His heart rate began to increase as the words echoed through his helmet, the heat of her hands radiating through his boxer-shorts. “For some reason you struck me more as someone who'd either wear tightie whities or just forgo undergarments altogether. But boxers are nice.”

And with that, her grip became tight around his shaft and his whole body tensed up – though more in shock than in pleasure, at first. It was only human nature what happened next. There was a gentle eagerness to her hands as they brushed against his member; a ravenous hunger was eating at her, he could feel it in the firmness of her touch, though she was constrained in what she was doing. Perhaps to tease him? Whatever it was, Alessandro felt relieved – albeit slightly drained – when the green light illuminated his visor and her hand left his trousers. He didn’t bother buttoning his jeans back up.

Her hands went back to holding his own and the Italian jerked himself forward a little to regain his position on the seat and his groin pushed against her lower-body. If she wanted to play that game, Alessandro was sure he could out-do her. He couldn’t let his bodily urges get the better of him. He needed to remain in control.

“I don’t want to crash the motorcycle.” Alessandro spoke sternly, “Don’t do that again.”

Aside from the occasional breath that Felicia moaned into the microphone, the rest of the journey to Blythedale hospital was thankfully quiet. Everything leading up to this point was beginning to feel almost surreal; like a badly derived lucid dream. He felt numb and would have attributed it to the wine he had drunk before leaving if it weren’t for the fact that it had been a steadily growing void of energy. Not so much exhaustion – but definitely something else. He was not intoxicated, the distant sluggishness that partnered so well with alcohol was absent. And it was that simple fact that alarmed him. He had read Felicia’s file several times over and concluded that, perhaps, she was doing it.

She could manipulate biological processes – all manner of them – as well as create an organic relationship between two people. This meant that, effectively, she could siphon energy from him and use it to alter his feelings which, in turn, manipulated his thoughts. It was very primal and would have outraged him if he didn’t have a plan to counter her.

It was becoming increasingly clear to him that she had come to him to show him something and prove a point though the more time they spent in one anothers company, the more clouded her judgement became. She was becoming a victim to her own desires.

“Why the hospital? I don’t see why you want me here.” Alessandro spoke as he passed the sign to the Blythedale Children’s Hospital. He parked it in front of a car, not a few meters from the entrance to the hospital and waited until she was off the bike.

She removed her helmet and Alessandro removed his and buttoned up his jeans. Stepping off from the bike, Alessandro put his hands down his trousers and adjusted himself – he couldn’t have anything out of place.

“Because I'm going to show you something that might blow your evo-phobic little mind.” Alessandro put the helmet on the motorcycles right handle and arched his eyebrow. He didn’t hate specials. He simply disliked what they were. As people, he enjoyed their company – most of the time, “No, it doesn't involve taking you up to a cancer ward and going from room to room telling you, 'All these children have cancer, and they're all evos' to make you feel guilty. You're Catholic. Alessandro’s gaze became hard-nosed and bitter, “Guilt is built into your DNA. You guilt yourself well enough without my help by sitting alone in your office, turning the lights on and off while listening to Un Bel Di Vedremo, crying about why Alice doesn't love you any more. It's pathetic, really.”

It took everything Alessandro had to not grab her there and then and ram her head first into the gap between the wheel and body of the motorcycle. It took him everything to not grab her head; one hand on her jaw, one on her temple, and twist. It took him everything not to mindlessly slaughter the creature stood before him.

But he prevailed. He wanted to see why she had taken him here. So he would bide his time and only when the time was right, would he enact his own vengeance. Alessandro may not have had powers, though he had power.

Exhaling deeply, Alessandro looked to the sky and mumbled almost inaudibly to himself, “Perché mi hai abbandonato?”
Alessandro shook his head and followed Felicia into the hospital.

As they entered, Alessandro noticed it was near-enough empty save for the staff. Which wasn’t unsurprising. It was also a relief. Children shouldn’t be subject to any kind of hurt in their lives. That was a belief Alessandro held dear. Whoever they were.

“How can I help you?” A male voice spoke up and the Italian turned to it; Justin Case. What a fucking ridiculous name. It wasn’t his place to pass judgement, however, so he kept quiet throughout the whole exchange, his eyes shifting between Justin and Felicia, whom seemed to be growing ever-more appealing to him.

Disinterested, Alessandro looked around the room and phased out entirely from the conversation. His focus was only snapped back when Felicia nudged him to follow her. And he did.
Into an elevator.

Perfect.

“'Love in an elevator! Livin' it up when I'm goin' down!'”

Alessandro grinned and held the ‘stop’ button – forcing the elevator to come to a halt. He looked up to where the camera would be positioned and shrugged it off. Chances are, the security guard would have been dozing.

His eyes, dark and resentful, locked onto Felicia and he bit the inside of his lip.
She may have had control over his feelings and she could easily kill him in a heartbeat, though he would not die without letting her know who was in charge. He could tell she was excited as she backed against the elevator wall in a mocking attempt at playing the victim; her eyes looked on him invitingly, almost dreamingly.

Alessandro approached her and cupped her chin in his palm, tilting her head up to meet. Leaning down, Alessandro whispered into her ears.
“You are nothing to me.”

He knew exactly the reaction it would invoke. But he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of letting her reactions do what they did best. However his words made her feel, Alessandro had no intention of letting her act on those feelings. He placed a firm and forceful kiss against her lips with his left palm pressed against the wall to keep himself steady and his body pivoted toward hers.

A few seconds passed and Alessandro pulled away, pressed the ‘UP’ button once more and the elevator sprung back into life, heading back to the floor they were original intended for.

The lift dinged and the doors opened. Alessandro walked out, a malicious grin on his lips as his eyes now invited Felicia to come and show him where he was going.

[Felicia Soler]

Blythedale Children's Hospital

She knew her little jibe about Alice would piss him off, but that was the point. Controlling emotions came as naturally to her as breathing, and she didn't need to fall back on her ability to do so. Alessandro had to have figured that out by now. He was also the plotting type, so when he reached over and pressed the 'STOP' button on the panel, she wasn't surprised.

She rested her back against the mirrored wall behind her and raised an eyebrow at him, tilting her head curiously to one side. It was a real pleasure to observe him trying to hold his emotions in check. He was pissed.

Good.

Felicia leaned into his hand as he grasped her firmly by the chin and a chill streaked down her spine when his lips touched her ear. “You are nothing to me.” A soft growl flowed through his words and she felt her desire rise tenfold.

“Splendid. That means I don't need to feel guilty.” She pushed herself away from the wall and responded aggressively to the physical contact he'd initiated. This time when she bit him, her teeth split open the skin on the inside of his lip, and she tasted the salty, metallic tang of his blood on her tongue. If her actions had caused him any pain, Alessandro seemed to be too caught up in the moment to pay it much attention.

As he pulled away, she ran her tongue over her lower lip and grinned at him, baring teeth stained with his blood until she licked it away. The elevator resumed its upward motion and she wiped her mouth against the back of her hand.

Alessandro was the first to step out of the lift. The look on his face was nearly intoxicating and as if she were under a spell, she followed soon after. “You're going to make this a really long night.” The elevator doors slid shut behind her.

The ICU was relatively quiet, save for the quiet hum of the computers and the tinny sounding beeps being emitted from the various pieces of medical equipment in each room. There were a few nurses patrolling the unit doing their nightly rounds, as she made her way into the small lounge area across from the main nurse's station. Felicia sat down in a chair in front of a large floor-to-ceiling window and closed her eyes, focusing on the atmosphere within the ward.

None of the children currently admitted were suffering from life threatening injuries: a staph infection that was on the mend, recovering from surgery to re-set a broken arm, viral pneumonia, and what was likely a 24 hour observation period following an appendectomy. Once she had a grasp on the types of maladies she'd be dealing with, Felicia took several deep breaths and quieted mind. The surface of her skin took on a shimmering quality, like moonlight on water.

She'd always experienced her ability as something that was both a part of her and something that was separate from her. It was its own entity, but she was the one who ultimately controlled its movements. Using the energy she'd been siphoning from Alessandro over the course of the evening, she awakened the ability locked in the DNA of each of her cells. A vibrant argent coloured mist rose from her skin, cloaking her in silver light until her body completely disappeared from view. The protective cocoon undulated with each breath she took, and she pressed it out further with each exhalation.

The entire floor of the ICU was engulfed within her power in just under a minute. She could feel the unique life force energy of every human organism as they crossed the barrier, and to an extent she could read their thoughts and experience their emotions. Much like the element of silver itself, her ability was a great conductor; it allowed all parties involved to experience a mental, physical, and emotional connection which would have otherwise been impossible. It essentially laid everyone bare. For the inexperienced, it was an overwhelming, almost mind-altering feeling of losing control and being naked in the truest sense of the word.

But she wasn't interested in focusing on the thoughts or the emotions of the people whose spiritual essences were mingling with her own. She stood up and walked into the nearest room which housed a young girl with a fractured arm. The girl was sleeping, but awoke when she felt someone take hold of her hand and touch her face. Felicia opened her eyes and looked down at her, but didn't say a word, and instead let her ability flow between them, healing the damage that had been done. Fragile silver filaments spread out along the girl's skin and seeped into her body, seeking out the damaged bones and tissue and knitting them back together. The pins and screws used to set the bone while it healed were rendered useless and slid painlessly out of her arm, though they remained contained within the cast.

Having healed the first child, she stepped away from the girl's bed and watched as she fell back into a deep sleep. The atmosphere inside the sphere of her power had a fluid quality to it, like walking through a sea of mercury. Her body left wispy ribbon trails as she moved through the material from one room to the next. Standing at the bedside of the young boy who'd contracted a particularly virulent strain of staph bacteria, she placed one hand on his forehead and the other on his chest and scanned his body with her mirror-like eyes. She drew the bacterial impurities to her and plied them out of his body before obliterating them. By the time morning came, all of his vital signs would have returned to normal, and his immune system would no longer be open to attack.

Leaving the second child's room, she walked into the third and last room, from which emanated a feeling of discomfort. Standing next to the child's bed, Felicia drew the bedsheets down to the girl's hips and opened the front of her hospital gown, exposing the small, gauze and tape covered wounds associated with laparoscopic surgery. She covered the wound on the lower right part of the girl's abdomen with her palm and accelerated the healing process. A delicate tinsel-like web trickled from her fingertips and meshed with the girl's red, irritated skin where the dissolving sutures had been applied. The redness dissipated instantly, and her skin reverted to its previous state of being scar-free and unblemished.

If she'd wanted, she could have extended her ability to affect the entire hospital, but she didn't feel like showing off. That wasn't the point she was trying to make. Felicia closed the girl's hospital gown and tucked her back snugly into bed. “I really don't understand why you have such disdain for us when God blessed us with the ability to do great things. Jesus was a special. He could heal the sick, make the blind see again, raise people from the dead—not really sure where turning water into wine or walking on water falls into any of those categories, but you get what I mean.” She took a few steps toward Alessandro and looked up at him, her eyes reflecting his face. “I know healing the sick doesn't necessarily make me a good person. But explain to me, then, how hating someone—oh, yes, you do hate us. Maybe not all of us, but . . . how does hating an entire race based on something over which they have no control make you any better? You think we're all monsters. You'd prefer to see us all either enslaved or dead, and I really have to wonder why that is.”

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count:
ф ф Mood:
ф ф Outfit:
ф ф Lyrics / Quote:
ф ф Illustrations:
ф ф Comment / Informational links:

[Alessandro Moretti]

[[ will format later ]]

“You're going to make this a really long night.”

Life and Death were two things that you should never be able to control.
Alessandro knew that.
He took no pride in what he had done over the years. Every mark on his soul was self-inflicted and deep inside he knew that when his time came, He would not look kindly upon the Italian. Alessandro knew that he was damned and all he wanted to do now was make amends.
It was said that God was a forgiving soul though Alessandro could not help but wonder if he could be forgiven for the sins he had committed over his years?

The only penance for his sins were that the majority of his victims were monsters. Though his soul bore scars of murder, the blood on his hands was blood from mercy. People should not be able to control life and death. People should not be able to fly. They should not be able to do anything like that.

You could end a life and bring new life into the world but you could not, and should not, control the course of life. Revitalisation and rejuvenation came like that and though there was no doubt in his mind that these things could (and most likely were) be considered as miracles, Alessandro knew otherwise.

The Italian rested against the ward wall as his eyes followed Felicia. She sat down on her chair and the silken glow of phosphorescence in the moonlit waters took a hold of her body. Alessandro’s visibly tightened as his mind waded through the information he had stored on Felicia Rahal. She had a very special power. A powerful one, and perhaps misguided, though special nonetheless. It was one he did not ever wish to see. It was at this moment that he wished he had his gun and seconds later, the ward became consumed in silver milk and the electrifying impulses of every person in the ward overwhelmed him. Alessandro could feel each child’s soul as their lives throbbed against his own. He could feel Felicia’s darkness penetrate his mind and rip him apart like a present at Christmas time. And he couldn’t do anything about it.

It angered him more than he had ever been angry before.

When the Company stole Alice from him, when Fiona forced her handler to shoot Alice, when Alice looked him in the eye years later and tell him she wanted nothing to do with him… That was nothing. When he was fired from the Company for standing up to who he was, that was nothing. He could feel her ability tether against his soul like a chain bearing down on his very person. He could feel it probe around inside of him and open him up to everything. He felt enlightened though vulnerable.

It made him feel strong yet so very weak. It was a combination Alessandro did not like one bit.

The sensation subsided for a moment when she stood up though he could still feel everybody around him pulse into his life. He watched as Felicia approached one of the children.

The girl had a cast on her arm and was sleeping soundly. Time was going to take its course and she would be fine within weeks, if not sooner. Alessandro did not know what Felicia was up to but there was no need for intervention here – no need for her ability. And that angered him more. That she wanted to show off.

Whether or not the others could feel how Alessandro was feeling was irrelevant. He did not care. He wanted Felicia to know that he was not happy. He wanted her to understand what she was doing and the consequences it would have. However much she enticed him, he was going to make her suffer for this.

You could not play God.
Following behind Felicia, Alessandro sat on the visitors chair next to the girl with the cast. He didn’t care about any of the others at this point and despite feeling their bodies heal and the ribbons of her ability weave around him, Alessandro’s eyes remained fixed on this girl. His eyes looked sorrowful, almost regretful.

“I really don't understand why you have such disdain for us when God blessed us with the ability to do great things.” Alessandro looked up as he felt Felicia’s ability fade. A grin was on his lips.

There was a point you reach between anger and hatred that acted as a thin sheet of ice. It either broke and you fell through it or you hurtled across it and hoped for the best. Alessandro slid across the ice and traced his finger up the girls cast-less arm. Whatever point Felicia was trying to make became lost when she used her power.

“Don’t use His name like that.” Alessandro’s eyes turned back to the peaceful girl.

“Jesus was a special.” Alessandro ignored her, “He could heal the sick, make the blind see again, raise people from the dead—not really sure where turning water into wine or walking on water falls into any of those categories, but you get what I mean.”

Alessandro felt her body approach his and his eyes diverted to look up at her; the musk of her ability permeating against his skin.

“I know healing the sick doesn't necessarily make me a good person. But explain to me, then, how hating someone—oh, yes, you do hate us. Maybe not all of us, but . . . how does hating an entire race based on something over which they have no control make you any better? You think we're all monsters. You'd prefer to see us all either enslaved or dead, and I really have to wonder why that is.”

“Egli è la propiziazione per i nostri peccati, e non soltanto per i nostri, ma anche per quelli di tutto il mondo,” Alessandro stood up; his face not a centimetre from Felicia’s.

“And you wonder why He sacrificed His son for humanity.” His tone was reminiscent of the resent he had toward Ryan and Adele and Fiona and every other special he’d encountered, “The earth has no control over a storm and yet destruction is left in its wake. You choose to play His game and yet refuse to acknowledge that it is not right,” Alessandro paused for a moment and turned back to the young girl, “I do not think you are a bad person, Felicia. I do not think Alligators are bad creatures but they are vicious and deadly, doing what they please to survive. Much like what you do to survive.”

Alessandro couldn’t allow her to play God. Not anymore. He planted a soft kiss on the girls forehead and wrapped his hands around her cast, “A monster is still a monster, however good their intentions are.”

Using his left hand to twist clockwise and right hand to twist anti-clockwise, Alessandro cracked the cast open and grabbed the small pins that were used to hold her arm in place. The sudden noise and movement of her body caused the girl to wake up though before she was able to scream, Alessandro had pinched her wrist, a small point on her elbow and had gently knocked the side of her neck. She was fast asleep and would not remember anything beyond Alessandro being in the room.

“Take me for example. I am a monster.” Alessandro grabbed one of the pins and twisted it free from the cast. It was a small piece of metal with a pointed end, used to ensure the arm was in the position it needed to be in to ensure a full recovery. Alessandro stood up, “Perhaps even moreso because I have to work to do what comes to you so naturally.” He was almost mocking her were it not for the underlying bitterness in his words, “I had to train to be a murderer. I was consciously aware of what I was doing. You rejoiced in what you were born with. Succumbed to it. You know that you are a killer and simply do not care. It serves no point to fight against what you cannot control, is there?”

Alessandro took a hold of Felicia’s hand before she could answer and drove the pin straight through her palm. He knew how she’d react so instinctively, he stood back, “That pain you feel is natural. But perhaps you don’t feel any pain. And if you heal or choose not to make yourself heal then that tells me more than I need to know. Whatever your point was here, Felicia. We are done. I am leaving.

Pushing himself passed Felicia knowing she was most likely going to try and rip his head off, Alessandro stopped, “You can drive me home.”