Scene #8173: This Isn't A Repeatable Quest Any More, Is It?

Owner	Pose
Xion	It begins as a buzz on Jeanne Alter's phone. An SMS message from a number that had been entered into her phone's contacts at some point as 'X' bypasses the spam screening and starts hitting the embodied fork of alternate history with the direct messages to the inbox. [Your Conversation with X] > Hey, Jeanne. > It's me, Xion! > I hope you're doing well. > Did you want to go out today? > It's Black Friday! > But I don't really feel like shopping. > It'll be a date! And with that, a geolocation, to a slightly crumbling castle on the cape, and an abandoned port city that sat empty and without people, but still full of idle and abandoned things. Sitting besides an overgrown park on a sidewalk bench, Xion waits and messes with her phone in her lap idly. Under an un-lit street lamp in the late afternoon orange of late November, she wears a black t-shirt with a grey star across the chest, a red hoodie with black draws, and a collared denim jacket over that, grey shorts, black leggings, and sneakers.
Ritsuka Fujimaru	Somehow, someway, Jeanne Alter actually has a phone! She's had one for a while now, actually, between working odd jobs at a certain vampire boy's school and a few part-time stints that mostly resulted in escaping before she could be ID'd for the arson charges. She's typing and walking, although she hasn't quite gotten used to the art of swiping text in instead of typing it all out letter by letter. > How did you get this number? > Whatever, it's fine. Ever thing is fine. > I was going to bring down another station, buy I can take some time off today. > I had a busy evening last night, and I could use some . She doesn't address the date part of course, but she does look a little more dressed up than the last time Xion saw her. More specifically, she's dressed up at all in a dark blue jacket with gold trim and black fur along the neck and wrists that's probably the only source of warmth she has on right now. The black shirt dress on underneath it certainly isn't, nor are her boots, but she seems to be comfortable enough on her way over towards the bench Xion is waiting at. "You're really here. Hm. I'd have expected some place with more stores if you really wanted to go..." There's a pause that's just long enough to be mildly uncomfortable before Jeanne finally clears her throat, clearly trying to come up with something else to say that isn't 'on a date'. "... Window shopping. Although I guess nobody's going to complain if we just take things that have been abandoned, anyway."
Xion	Swiping only works if you speak like a normal person that can be predicted. If you're unpredictable, it's better to type. Things just work that way. > I got it when I we met! > You say that a bunch, don't you? > Every thing is fine. > But then you're an arsonis. > Isn't that contradictory? At her bench of slatted, weathered wood and gently rusting metal, Xion looks up to Jeanne's approach and smiles. "If I called you to a place and didn't show up - if I called it a date and then ghosted you, that'd be a super vicious attack. Wouldn't it? Here, I've got another kind of vicious attack for you." Xion hops up, sway-stepping forward playfully with her hands tucking behind her back. "I'm definitely shopping for something, though..." She teases, before her left hand swings out from behind her back with a single black rose, to hand just-a-bit-droopingly to Jeanne. "Have you seen any pretty girls around? I brought this rose for one I met in France."
Ritsuka Fujimaru	One day, Jeanne will learn how to swipe. One day, she'll actually wonder why dragging her finger across the keyboard leaves those weird little lines. > Why would I lie? > Rhetorical question. > Bet nobody would expect I'd know thay word. > <woodburning.jpg> (phone quality, clearly done in a smoky room that looks like the floor of the hotel from last time) "Ghosting me? Is that supposed to be a joke about...?" Jeanne starts, pauses, then chuckles quietly despite herself. She catches herself afterwards, of course, and clears her throat before looking aside trying to look all indifferent about it. "I guess, if you did it to a wuss." Good thing it didn't happen, or she might've ended up burning this entire place down herself. At the mention of another kind of vicious attack, though, Jeanne recalls what had happened last time, and she already has her hand up over her nose, nonchalantly blocking her face from getting chin lifted again. When Xion comes at her with the rose, though, she's caught off guard for a moment before managing a brief, confident chuckle. "Pretty girls, eh? Oh, I've seen a few on the way here. Long hair, doe eyed, and carrying some kind of expensive drink with a name they can't pronounce? You might have better luck elsewhere." Satisfied with her deflection, she leans in with a broad smirk that's definitely not going to bite her in the ass later. "If you're looking for cuter ones, though, I've seen one or two around here. One of them might have even asked me to keep her company." A counterattack! One she's clearly struggling with a bit, but it's an attempt.
Xion	Xion doesn't fit in barbs to her communication thoughtlessly - she has a simple, clean honesty to the way she interacts with others, and when she uses sarcasm and the bite of wit is careful to to not be too vicious. Hurting feelings for no reason never occurred to her as a good or useful thing. Why do it? And why do it to the hurt-already? It was baffling. "Yeah. Pretty girls." Xion repeats, spinning the rose-stem around her thumb and drawing it back, petals to raised thumb, all the way to under her nose. She bites the edge of her thumbnail, and the black petals crease with her nasal exhalation. Jeanne hadn't called her cute before, and Xion wasn't quite ready for the full reversal. It's-- Amusing. She laughs, bubbly, and reaches forward with her rose-holding hand to tuck the flower over Jeanne's ear and into her hair. "Hey, and here's a pretty girl right now, what a coincidence. You didn't call me cute before. You wanted me to be all tall and strong."
Ritsuka Fujimaru	Jeanne is both honest and dishonest to a fault in both senses. On one hand, it's far too easy to gauge her reactions to things, as she's just used to being as loud and fiery as possible, with little room for subtlety. She's caught off guard when Xion laughs at her attempt to throw the noirette off her game with her own techniques, and there's a brief hitch in her breathing and widening of her eyes when the flower is slipped right in there. At the same time, she's also not quite used to being honest with what she actually wants outside of burning things that happen to be France or England related. "Well, that's because...! I just thought it was only fair for you to get back what you're giving. Not that I want you tall, even if you did look more..." She fumbles over her words quite a bit, straightening back up to rest her hands on her hips and look off over at the abandoned city to recollect herself and try to get her groove back. Coincidentally, the flower is on the side facing Xion, and she's raising herself just a little bit more on her boots to try and look just that little bit taller. "B-besides, you've already proven your strength before. Not that it affects anything, you understand?" Jeanne's finally starting to get some of her confident bluster back. "Height aside...! I guess I can accompany you through this weird old place. I've been to haunted ruins like these before, so if you're scared..." Is she trying to play hard to get, or pretending to be macho? It's kind of hard to tell.
Xion	The overgrown park is at the center of long rows of single, double, and triple story urban street and residential loft living, cast in the decay of a world that had stood enigmatically still and unmistakeably of a certain kind of moment. It was definitely a metaphor for something, but right now it was just the backdrop of an odd sort of date. The orange sky burned down to a dark purpling and roll of cool ashen clouds. The streetlights, equally enigmatically to the town, turn on with the close of early night. Thick, darkness-banishing halos of yellow cast pools of flickering, shadowed gold across the chipped and worn streets. Xion grins, eyes lifting up with humor to follow Jeanne standing up straighter and higher on the balls of her feet. "It's not a bad trait, to want to exchange gifts and praise, you know." She teases. Extending her hand, she lifts her fingers to brush the underside of Jeanne's unguarded chin fondly, drawing back into a fist before her own.. "And knowing what you like's cute too. I honestly don't mind feeling strong, like that. It's exhilarating--" The fist turns to a hand, stroking down her neck and front slowly. "To feel that surge." Her palm rests over her collar, for a closed-eye inhale. "A fire in the chest. A depth to the lungs. I really liked it." Finally, she trots a half step forward to take up Jeanne's hand in hers and laces her fingers around Jeanne's palm. "I'm terribly frightened of something." She states with a fake pout, sudden as Jeanne proposes it. "You'll have to accompany me, otherwise the worst might happen." Then, with hand held, she leads Jeanne off down the street towards the castle-structure off in the distance.
Ritsuka Fujimaru	Despite the city being so abandoned, the fact that the street lights are turning on actually catches Jeanne's attention more than regular ones would anywhere else. "I would've expected those to burn out years ago. The bulbs or the..." She wracks her brain briefly, then snaps her fingers. "Generators!" Once again, she sounds a little too proud of herself at remembering that bit of knowledge. Anything to stick it to her other self. Of course, that proud moment goes right back out the window when Xion goes for the chin again. It's not quite the chin thing again, but that apparently left enough of a mark on the corrupted saint's mind that she's still burning up a bit at that (figuratively). "I've been to birthday parties before. And Christmas gatherings. Those brats really got a kick out of getting all that stuff, that's for sure." Still clinging onto her TOUGH self-image, she keeps her gaze cast aside until Xion starts speaking of strength and exhiliration. That gets her looking back over, raising an eyebrow slowly, then closing her eyes while recalling the thrill of battle, the feelings of victory, and the excitement in having a close fight with so many people witnessing it all. "... It really is great, isn't it? To know that even against a powerful opponent, you're able to stand above them. That you can hold your own against countless self-described heroes, to force them to meet your strength with everything they have, and knowing that it's yourself doing..." She opens her eyes as she suddenly feels those fingers on hers, then goes wide-eyed again upon seeing Xion's fake pout. Somehow, that's what catches her off guard all of a sudden, and Jeanne freezes up for several moments as she just gets caught up in suddenly becoming the big brave chaperone. Somehow, she's buying that fake pout completely. There's a part of her that might actually want to even allay those fears, but a stronger part wants to mess with Xion just a little bit more. The castle-thing is a bit too far, but those long-forgotten lights... That should be close enough. Just a little fire to get the glass heated up... "So. Why did you think to come here today of all places? I would've expected something with more... Things, or people. Food, even, or maybe-" And just as quickly, a light bursts thanks to the application of a little too much fire for too long, and Jeanne plays her card: Pulling Xion closer to get her REAL CLOSE in the guise of protecting her while actually trying to get her all flustered by the sudden contact. "Are you alright? That didn't hit you, did it?"
Xion	"Triumph does taste good." Xion agrees, the fringes of her smile curling catlike as her attacks draw blushing-hot blood to the fore. That they are to cheeks and fierceness of expression doesn't detract from the point being hers. "But I mean something else. It's okay, because it's a little specific." She rests with that, walking hand in hand for a few moments with Jeanne. "I can draw in people's desires, feel them, and yours are very, very strong. You have an incredibly strong heart, with an intense and black heat. You want things, raw and clear, and I like that. You want to fix things... right now." The lights grow darker, candle-flickering, and the pair walk dark and empty streets with as many smashed-in windows as dirtied whole panes of glass. A liminal, empty space, with just the lights cast by lamps, and two outsiders. "I wanted to come here, so we didn't have to perform for anyone else." Xion explains, lightly, as she walks with a forward-looking smile. "Because I wanted to see what you'd do, when you only had to perform for me. I called you here for you." Xion stops, under a fading, flickering lamp whose glass oranges and deforms. "I wanted to make your desire mine. When I was big, and my lungs could hold the clouds, I wanted to fill them with fire." The light bursts, and Jeanne's maneuver swings Xion into her arms, undefending and trusting, given over to the movement, the closeness, and the spark-lit plunge of darkness over a flush-cheeked look. So close, held, that there's nowhere for Jeanne to go. Xion leans close, forehead to forehead, eyes to eyes, lips whispering to lips. "That fire in you, Jeanne. Share it with me, please." She begs warmly, and then quiets her own talking to press forward the last bit for a lip-to-lip kiss.
Ritsuka Fujimaru	"Strong desires... Yeah, I've been told that before. I've never had time to half-ass getting what I want." Jeanne sounds proud as she says that, not quite realizing how sad that might sound in the context of either someone that wasn't allowed to be a teenager nor in the context of someone that was never even born to have a childhood or anything before that. "Fixing things, though... Hm. It... Wouldn't be the first time, I guess." That part has her hesitating a little more. How much has she really fixed? It certainly doesn't compare to how much she's broken over the course of her life, but it's not as though she didn't feel something in her kinder or more selfless moments. It just never quite fit her 'image' as the evil arsonist of France. Now, though, without anyone to perform for, she's actually relaxing, albeit not much considering her gambit of trying to throw Xion off her game by pulling her close. "Rain clouds bringing down the purifying flames of our wrath instead of washing them away... I do like the sound of that. I like the sound of that a... Lot?" Wait. Xion's getting a lot closer than she was expecting. Isn't this the part where she's supposed to getting flustered instead of turning it around on her? Eyes going wide again, Jeanne has nowhere to escape to when Xion initiates that kiss, and there's a clear moment where her brain just gets overloaded between her hands freezing in mid-air, refusing to blink for several long seconds, and not even allowing herself to breathe in the event any sort of breathing might be misconstrued as something else. It's hard not to notice the blushing, though, and the softening expression on her face. It takes a little longer before Jeanne finally closes her eyes and braces her hands on Xion's shoulders, not quite ready to let go anytime soon.
Xion	Xion isn't shy or hesitant about the kiss. For Jeanne's shut down, she slows, taking her time to move from holding hands to holding Jeanne, standing on her own and mutually supporing the reacting other woman. With them both at this height, and Jeanne having pulled her close, she can kiss and breathe slow, and not make any sudden movements. The breathing, though, has the odd sensation of a flame-heat changing its columnal dispersion by a breeze, a clear drawing-in of heat and smoke from something internal to the embodied alternate history. "Hey." Xion says, after a while, forehead to forehead and eyes low and relaxed. "I'm not sure if anyone told you, but happy thanks-giving, Jeanne. And thanks for... sharing."
Ritsuka Fujimaru	Jeanne can certainly feel the strange flow of heat from her body to Xion, but it's not an entirely unpleasant feeling. It's easy enough to chalk up to the strange new experience hitting her all at once, but she's definitely not going to admit any of it out loud even (or especially) to the person she's just shared such a personal moment with. "Hm...? Oh, that's the..." Keeping their foreheads pressed together, Jeanne shifts around a bit to fix her footing on the ground again. There's still too much pride in her to allow herself to be the first one to pull her head back, and it's not as though it's an unpleasant feeling. Besides, she actually looks focused as she tries to mentally translate what it is Xion is talking about. "Thanks-giving... That's one of those American things, isn't it? I heard there was some business involving a turkey, but what's this have to...?" She pauses, then shrugs lightly. Her face is still incredibly close to Xion's, and the blushing indicates she's noticing it again. "... W-well, whatever. It's not like I..." It's still hard for the dragon witch to be completely honest with herself there, but at least she's having trouble brushing it off, too. "Mm... Th.. Thanks for bringing me out here. It's quiet here. Maybe I won't set this place on fire." For a moment, it even looks like she's grinning.
Xion	In the darkness, there's really just feeling. Forward and back, pools of light reveal emptiness. The rest, a cool evening-dark. A castle, far in the distance, has a lighthouse tower that stands lit, despite the complete abandonment of the city. Xion's blue eyes open slowly, shining in the scant light. In the moment of hesitation, of dishonesty with herself, and the falling off of her words, the motion between seized up and vulnerable surprise and the dishonest performance, Xion attacks again. Her right hand closes around the uncertain-open hand of Jeanne's that seeks in the air, fingers relacing together, and her left, at Jeanne's waist, rises up the witch's back, underneath her hair. With the right, Xion draws Jeanne close in, guiding her flush. With the left, strokingly-scraping the base of Jeanne's neck and base of her scalp, Xion guides Jeanne's lips flush with hers again, teasingly smooching for one brief moment. "Until you really know what you want to say, Jeanne? It's okay." She giggles, a fire-warm puff of air across the shared space of her cheeks. Her voice husks, greedy and hot. "Just stop and kiss me."
Ritsuka Fujimaru	There's little room for argument there, especially with Xion being so aggressive against the normally fiery Jeanne. Instead of freezing up like before, however, she's returning the favor before long, putting one arm around Xion's waist to mirror the one on hers, leaning in, trying to maintain some semblance of control so as to not simply let herself be guided the entire time. Even in such unknown circumstances, she still has to cling onto some of that pride. She's even starting to believe it herself before long, chuckling lightly after the next kiss and still not yet pulling her head away even though it's long passed the point of intimacy and moved on to near absurdity with how seemingly focused she is on holding them together. Or maybe that's just what feels normal for her right now. "Y... You're really pushing it, aren't you? Well... Not that that's such a bad thing. Having someone that can keep up instead of someone that can just follow..." She inhales slowly, closing her eyes for another moment before flipping the script once more and pulling Xion closer. "Maybe... It isn't so bad to rely on someone else. Sometimes." "... Once in a while." She'll figure it out eventually. She just might not learn to shut up anytime soon.