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 A Different Chapter, open
Luighseach Aduaidh
 Posted: Nov 3 2016, 10:57 AM
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30-October 16
Fae

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He didn't recall the name of the club.
That the crowd it catered to was almost exclusively men was a similarly facile detail; over the centuries, the dullahan's memory had come to value more relevant information, such as the name of his employer and where they slept at night. There weren't many people nowadays who hired without looking at ID or credentials (of which Luighseach had neither) and those who did tended to be shady. The Headless Horseman disliked shady people. He disliked the odd, unsavoury jobs they had him do and he disliked the prickling suspicion that they were going to try and shank him as soon as he fulfilled his end of the deal. So when he got a relatively sound offer to play supernatural security at an offensively loud venue full of drunkards, he accepted it.

Taking jobs was a necessity. A grim, resentful necessity that funded his smoking habit and gave him the option of sleeping in a bed once in a while – because Luighseach was a murderer and many foul things besides, yes, but he was not a thief. He abhorred thieves.

He'd been surveying the floor for nearly four hours now without a break, struggling to maintain a tenuous hold on his temper. He was mired in a swamp of sweat, strobe lights and gyrating hips; a far cry from the quiet, chilly nights and barren moonlit roads he so preferred. When he did spot the kind of trouble he was contractually bound to intervene with, Luighseach had to grit his teeth and manoeuvre his way over. The dullahan only had a low-level Glamour activated – a subtle suggestion to the onlooker that he's not their type, not worth approaching - because unfortunately, he needed people to acknowledge his existence enough to move. It was unspeakably tedious, and so it was rather understandable that by the time Luighseach reached the scene, his patience was running thin.

Another fistfight. Another group of loudly – and violently – complaining degenerates in designer clothing. Another taxi called.

His break could not have come soon enough.

With only a couple more hours left until the club started to kick people out, the dullahan seized a quiet moment to slip out the back, fingers already pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his coat; the fresh night air had a chilly bite to it that was still refreshing and immensely soothing, for all that it was thick with distasteful city scents.
“Fucking clubs...”

Luighseach sighed out smoke and tilted his head back, resting it against the brick as he stood just to the right of the doorway, staring up at the sliver of black sky between buildings. There were no stars to be seen here – the light pollution smothered them in the same careless way that urban areas stifled any part of the natural world, life struggling to grow behind fences and in the cracks between the concrete. It disgusted him, how he had been reduced to entering these places to acquire currency for a world that wasn't even his, a world where he didn't belong. But that was just the way of things now.
“Just a few more weeks, Luned,” he told his steed – his lovely, ever-patient steed currently parked in the guise of a sleek black motorcycle. “Then we're out of this hell-hole.”

Just a few more months. A single assassination contract probably would have done the trick, but he wasn't in that business any more. He'd made a promise - and frankly, he didn't need to fuel his notoriety any further by adding another corpse to his already mountainous death count. Luighseach was old. Seriously old. He just wanted to lay low, spend some time with the ones he cared about, earn some cash and not be harassed by weapon-toting mortals for a while.

A noise from the doorway signalled he had company. Luighseach turned to give them a flat stare from his spot by the wall.
“If you're about to chuck it, avoid the boots. ”

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Finanuala Ni Lir
 Posted: Jan 1 2017, 09:31 PM
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Never run from anything immortal; it only attracts their attention.
Fiona
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She'd come to the club to dance and let her hair down a bit. She felt safe going to the club that she knew Luighseach was watching. He'd keep an eye on her and maybe she would coax him out on the dance floor a bit so he could see the crowd a bit more.

Ahh well she could dream if nothing else. Still, the music was rocking and she found herself moving to the beat happily as she watched the area around her. She was good at being a soothing presence so when it came to being left alone on the dance floor she found it easy. When the aura of a beloved friend seemed to eminate from a person it was unlikely she was going to be accosted and so she took advantage and just enjoyed herself. It was nice to relax and cut loose. She loved her home but even she needed to stretch her legs from time to time and it wasn't so late that she had to head home. She loved the summer days, they let her have more hours in the day to relax and enjoy herself.

Then she saw him move and she opted to follow him. Her steps made silent by the hard driving music that seemed to forever fill the place. She wondered how long it would take for him to realize it was her. I have no intention of puking on your boots I know how much they cost. she telepathically sent to him before she moved in front of him where he could see her signing.

Bored already? Is there any chance I can coax you into a dance? she asked him with big brown eyes. She knew he wasn't supposed to be dancing with her but sometimes she just wanted to enjoy time with him. While many saw it as a chance to hook up, for Fiona dancing was a way to relax. Given her curse she had a lot of excess energy that she needed to get rid of and dancing provided that release in a way that allowed her to feel connected to others without unpleasant obligation. As a swan her movements were curtailed but in human form she found that she had a lot more freedom than many had. Her dancing allowed her to be creative and speak without words much as the sign language she used with Luighseach did just now. Her hands had moved with years of practice and she did a graceful shift from first to second position and back.


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Words: 439
Tagged: Luighseach Aduaidh
Notes: First thread!!
Outfit:N/A
Credits:Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Marie Rilke. Made by Merry

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Luighseach Aduaidh
 Posted: Mar 10 2017, 11:51 AM
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'I have no intention of puking on your boots I know how much they cost.'

The dullahan relaxed fractionally at the familiar 'voice' in his mind, the usual tension inhabiting his form's broad shoulders easing its rigid grip. So it wasn't another drunk, high mortal stumbling out to spill their guts on the concrete. He'd known Fiona had intended on coming to the club for a fun night out, as so many individuals seemed to choose to do in their free time; he'd even glimpsed her in the crowd a couple of times, dancing to the loud, pulsing beat of whichever forgettable song remix the club had been playing at the time. Luighseach tended to tune it out as much as possible.

Bored already? Is there any chance I can coax you into a dance?

Luighseach smiled - a flat, grim thing, like bloody knees on asphalt, the sort of smile that came from one who'd long forgotten the original purpose of the expression and was struggling to relearn it. His eyes were dark and hooded as he signed back, I'm still on the clock, Fiona. Perhaps later.

Personally, the dullahan wasn't much for dancing and never had been - it reminded him too much of the Courts, the inevitable political intrigue and the gossip. Mortal dancing was quite different, however, and none more so than the dancing that took place at venues such as these. It was significantly simpler and more free form, the loud music and pulsing lights made it virtually impossible to eavesdrop, and most of the other dancers were too dunk or too high to care or even remember who you were in the morning anyway. A crowded club was a sea of anonymity.

Dancing with Fiona was different, too. Not relaxing, but almost exhilarating, demanding his focus and footwork as though he were in a spar. There was no rhythm in an actual fight, of course, only chaos, but both roused his blood in their own ways, awakening him and calming him both at once, making him feel alive and clearing his head.

But I have a minute to talk. Enjoying yourself , a thaisce?


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Finanuala Ni Lir
 Posted: Mar 25 2017, 04:56 AM
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Never run from anything immortal; it only attracts their attention.
Fiona
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30-October 16
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She wasn’t the type to pout. She was of an easy nature and wasn’t demanding. His words were met with a lopsided smile; she was happy he was talking to her. We can dance when we get home when you are off the clock. This would give him the ability to save some face if he did not like these people. She would never make him feel badly. He’d had so many things happen in his life that she never wanted to add to his pain. She continued to move in front of him and swayed with her own inner music. If she could have sung she would have but movement was her way of singing in her own way. She never was twitchy or distracted. It was a graceful slow movement and her own way of conveying her feelings as much as how she signed or the tone of the mind voice.

When she got the urge to dance and Lulu wasn’t available to dance with her she simply went to whatever club he was at. It was safer that way and she knew that. She tended to be a cautious person and not put herself at risk. They had enough going on in their lives without her being stupid. She was relaxed as she looked at Lulu and slowly got used to the area that she was standing in. I’ve been having fun. She signed and beamed at him, Its nice to be able to enjoy myself. I’m happy to be here with you.” Nodding happily and shifting from foot to foot like a happy metronome.

There was a freedom being with Luighseach that she had never had before; the safety to be herself and not having to constantly look over her shoulder; the safety of being able to turn into a swan when she needed to without being attacked. It was such a relief that she was able to enjoy her life and find a silver lining. Life is good. She moved forward and placed her hand on his arm gently, in an attempt to cheer him up. It was feather light and not intrusive, taking in his mood to know if she should remove it if he needed to get back to work.


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Words: 377
Tagged: Luighseach Aduaidh
Notes: First thread!!
Outfit:N/A
Credits:Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Marie Rilke. Made by Merry


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