Low Five {Tag Jacob}

[Angela Arun]

Angela was at Café Sangra against her better judgement, and yet somehow, being an Arun, it was kosher on some levels. She neglected to call and tell Reilly about her evening endeavours, knowing that her cousin might suggest something a little less hectic for her lately more-than-stressful life. Her boyfriend; no, EX-boyfriend, was now a vampire. An Akka vampire. And that meant that even if she wanted to keep seeing him, against everything she'd ever been taught, she couldn't. Not that she wanted to. Angela made an extremely sour face at the bar counter as she waited for the tender to bring her another drink. Angela wasn't going to get drunk off of this stuff, but it made her feel better all the same. She wouldn't doubt if they had something behind the bar that would get her drunk, she just didn't need that sort of trouble right now.

She turned and skulked back to her table on the side of the club where not as many people were. She slid into a small booth and dropped her drink down in front of herself, sucking it down while she alternated between playing Snake on her phone and watching people as they came and left. Vampire, vampire, shifter, human, human, vampire, human, shifter, shifter... her thoughts slid back to Jared, and she lost her concentration, becoming angry all over again. Anger was a bad thing for Angela - it lead to her dark side, her Arun side.

She dropped back the rest of her drink in one gulp and brushed straight brown hair away from her face. She was learning later in life than she should have that you couldn't un-know things.

[Irina Wintour]

Jacob was gradually acclimatizing himself to this new environment, well on his way to establishing an organized routine that he'd hardly had time to do in his last position. Before that he'd been ferried around to too many locations, far and wide, to need to do something like this. Determining the Nyeusi haunts was essential to his job, at least the way he went about handling this job. Lately he'd been a bit busy with this Father Dantes business, but the rest of his work could not be neglected, and he resumed his efforts to set up a schedule that he could feasibly follow.

At this hour, on this evening, he planted himself in a comfortable corner of the Café Sangra, trying not to appear too conspicuous with a notepad spread on the table before him and a pen straying absently near his lips as he observed, listened to, reached out and felt the crowd around him. What better way to stay up-to-date on current relations and events of the local Nyeusi community?

Or...personal relations and events. He kept track of that, as well, to a lesser extent...and he certainly kept no record of it. He just liked eavesdropping on such things...they made him feel involved when he knew he never would be. Not deeply. Always on the periphery.

Needless to say, he was never distracted from the task at hand for long. Only occasionally did he pause in the midst of scribbling down a tidbit of importance, tilt his head, and drift for a moment, letting himself get sucked into whatever irrelevant --but compellingly personal, individual, special-- thought or piece of gossip it was that had snared his attention, while his pen began to vaguely loop across the page and off onto the table (at which point the jar of the pen leaving the notebook's surface snapped him back to focus, and a smartly applied wet thumb erased the resulting accidental mark).

He had just recovered from one such reverie when he picked up something strange, almost like a mantra: someone was rattling off the words "vampire", "human", and "shifter", in quick succession, as if listing. But it was faint, protected. He had no doubt that someone less powerful than himself would have quite a bit of difficulty noticing it. Curious, he concentrated on locating the source.

There. He shied away as if burned: she was angry, whoever she was. A witch, it seemed...no, not happy in the slightest, bitter, sulking. Jacob pressed his lips together, considering. There was something quite unsettling about this witch, a quirk running like an undercurrent through the anger, in particular, which led him to the assured conclusion that she was of the Arun line. That would certainly explain the odd anger...in fact, Jacob was getting the distinct impression that there was nothing good about this present anger. Dangerous vibe, he determined, laying down his pen and brushing off his wrinkle-free dress shirt before drawing himself gracefully to his feet. It would probably be best for everyone if she calmed down.

With his things tucked under one arm (of course he wouldn't leave it unattended on the table), he followed the anger directly to its origin: a young thing, petite but lithe, with an alarmingly black expression clouding her pretty features. Without announcing himself, he slid fluidly into the seat across from her, long-lashed eyes gazing steadily and placidly out from behind his tinted lenses. "My dear, you're a boiling storm in an ocean full of seafarers," he said quietly. "Let's not capsize anyone. What's troubling you?"

[Angela Arun]

Angela glanced up sharply, eyes narrowed a little as the vampire sat down across from her, plunking his affairs down on the table like he was about to get comfortable. She hadn't expected anyone in this place to be paying enough attention to notice the heat she was radiating, honestly. She was an Arun Witch with formal training, but she was still a teenager, and still, well, an Arun. They weren't known for their... levelheadedness most times. She sat back a little, tilting her head. He was someone she might have considered attractive, and she felt a strange urge to say so, but then the weight of the Jared issue made itself known again in her chest, and she looked away, at something else in the club.

"Oops," was all she said. She didn't sound the least bit sincere. "I'm sure they'll get over it. Not like anyone here even noticed - except for you, anyways," she added, looking back at him for the briefest of moments before taking her eyes back down to her phone, only to find that her snake had run into the wall. She closed it with a sigh and put it in the pocket of her jacket, brushing more strands of hair away with an annoyed gesture. It was obvious that if he tried to make a comment about her disturbance in the force, she was going to suggest he sit further away - that much he'd be able to read as plain as day from her expression, let alone the unguarded thoughts on the surface of her mind.

What was troubling her? Now that was a fine question, indeed. "I can't get drunk," she answered quite glibly, smoothly bypassing any seriousness his question might have held to her. She wouldn't let him get inside her head. She'd had enough of that lately. Stupid Akka, she thought to herself. Not about Jacob, of course. It was in reference to Jared, Purezza, and the Akkan vampire line as a whole.

[Irina Wintour]

Jacob's lips writhed into a slight, sad smile as he observed the girl's cavalier attitude, and as he picked up on her impatient, hostile surface thoughts. He'd been considering explaining himself, to caution her that it was not just about whether other people noticed, but about her own psyche...but he decided she was not willing to listen to him lecture her on such a thing, not at the moment. Other than her clear desire to have him leave her be, he wasn't getting a whole lot out of her, other than the anger (which, thankfully, his presence was enough to abate, if only a bit). He relaxed his efforts to get a good read on her.

"I would venture to presume that it is overhyped," he responded quite seriously when she spoke of drunkenness...or, apparently seriously. This was an example of his masked teasing: some people caught on, some just didn't. But then, even though he wasn’t actively attempting to get inside her thoughts, one reared its head and made itself known: she was thinking about Akkan vampires. A single Akka? Or all of them? The source of her anger, perhaps? Jacob could understand the bitterness that particular boodline left in its wake, especially when something such as relationships entered into the equation. He wondered...

It wasn’t his place to push, but then, it hadn’t been his place to invade her privacy to begin with. However, now that he had invested more than a moment of his time in scrutinizing this young woman, he felt a certain obligation to make sure she would be all right. “You have every right to refuse me,” he began slowly, gently, watching her closely, “and I will not press the matter if you do not care for my company, but if there is anything, anything at all that you need, be it a lent ear, an escort to wherever you may be going after this, harmless information-- I am willing to help.”

[Angela Arun]

"Maybe," she said dryly to his counter about drunken states of mind. Jared sure had seemed to like doing it, and so did all his friends. She often wondered what she was missing, but on those rare occasions when she'd become power drunk after mentally whipping the crap out of weaker vampires... she supposed she could agree. Sometimes was nice, but all the time was generally not so much.

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms as he tried to breach into the heart to heart intro she'd heard before. "What are you, Single Earth?" she scoffed. "Give me a break." When she found out he was, she'd definitely feel like a dumbass, that was certain. She looked away and snorted, and then back at him. She'd found that she'd been playing a game - staring directly at him seemed to feel strange. She'd look away, and she'd recuperate. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she realized that she was brushing against a layer of power, one not quite so blatant and in your face - subtle, almost... like it was there with or without any force. She'd heard of vampires who could exude natural charisma so much that you couldn't help but like them.

Damnit, Angela wasn't about to like anyone at this point.

[Irina Wintour]

One eyebrow arched, and he continued to smile, in spite of everything. "As a matter of fact," he rejoined pleasantly, "I am Single Earth. I would offer you my card if I thought there was the slightest chance you would take it."

This wasn't cropping up to be one of his more successful encounters, to be certain, but at least it wasn't so pressing an issue that he'd have to worry about employing his own ability, beyond what he naturally projected. She seemed in control of herself, not nearly as angry. Besides, he didn't need another excuse to use his power...he had to confess that as of late his thoughts had been dwelling on it a bit more than usual, as he progressively toyed with the idea of stepping it up a notch when he was dealing with those who needed his help: he wouldn't have considered it if most people these days weren't so...well, so darn obstinate. But he couldn't afford to increase the frequency of how often he "charmed" others, even if it was for a good cause. It was another temptation. Another way for him to risk slipping...

He blinked behind his lenses. Speak of the devil: the little Arun had noticed, and she was clearly unnerved. That was the last thing he wanted to do, to disturb anyone, and he had been watching her intently. A bit uncomfortable himself, he averted his eyes --not out at the crowd-- and looked at the...frankly uninteresting wall.

[Angela Arun]

"Ha!" she exclaimed, perhaps too loudly. She sank down in her seat as he told her he was Single Earth indeed, and she laughed to herself. "It figures," she hissed. But then the tree hugger did something she did not anticipate.

He'd looked away - the club had dim lighting, to be sure, but Angela was one of those people always on the outside, looking in, and she had gotten very good at things like small gestures, inflections of voice, and other little things that people and Nyeusi both did. It was a well-deserved talent, considering her bloodline, and one she had perfected over time.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly. She glanced around, and then leaned forward a little - not across the table, but just more into the conversation. She stared at him now as he stared at the wall. Her voice had its own inflection - curiosity, and something more.. mystification, perhaps. She was a little wonderstruck at the notion that he really did have that sort of power.

Angela was also glibly aware of the fact that she'd taken the attention off of her and put it right on him. She was good at flipping things like that - she and Jared fought a lot, and that was one of the things she'd been accused of. She never denied it, at least.

[Irina Wintour]

He had no doubt that she'd felt the edge of his power, and thus she could not have missed that it waned once he looked away; why else would she be asking such a question? But now the entire dynamic of the conversation had shifted, nigh reversed. He was so used to sitting back and meddling --however helpfully and benevolently-- in the affairs of others, directing all of his attention outward, partly because it was just in his nature to aid and support those around him, partly because it never seemed to do him any good when he focused inward and submitted himself for introspection, not nowadays. He'd done that enough in earlier centuries. Now it only bred depression.

But the witch had inverted his role in an instant, catching him off guard. He was not used to this sort of attention, not when he wasn't looking at the person...normally attention only came with eye-contact. Otherwise he was virtually invisible...he thought. That's how it had always felt, at any rate. He himself was certainly responsible for a good deal of it, deliberately estranging himself in spite of his deepest desires --curse those deep desires-- backing off when uninfluenced individuals displayed an interest, any sort of interest, in him, rather than the organization he represented. Worst was when it concerned his ability.

Long story short: her question perturbed him. Badly. But he masked this to the best of his abilities (and he'd had a lot of practice); work came first, work always came first. There was still a vulnerable moment before he collected himself-- just an instant where he mentally recoiled. He reached into his pocket and drew out his card (just his office number and the words 'Single Earth'), placing it on the table. He determinedly avoided the Arun's eyes in the meantime. "My offer still stands. Whether now or..." He lay an elegant finger on the card. "...later."

[Angela Arun]

Purposefully, Angela twisted her body down and tilted her head, trying to catch his gaze while he tried to avoid hers. She looked like a mongoose, really, with what she was doing, and considerably so, since in this instance he was a snake - albeit a nice one, but still with the 'hypnotic' sort of gaze that wasn't healthy - and naturally, she wanted to investigate it.

ZOUNDS! AND GADZOOKS!

Angela felt like... she didn't even know. She looked around the club for a moment, and everything still looked the same - vampire, human, human, shifter... her gaze trailed around the room, and back to the man before her. Vampire. Jacob. She felt her lips tug a little, an unwilling smile forming on them. He looked horrified, and she couldn't figure out why. She stood up and walked 'round the table until she was next to him, and sat down close enough to feel the warmth from his body. She nuzzled into his shoulder, almost like something a cat would do, before speaking.

"What's wrong? You look like you just saw something wicked shocking," she asked, tone curious, but somewhat... languid. She felt a sense of... she couldn't even explain the feeling. It was naturally the witch in her trying to rationalize this dose of power she'd been hit with, but she was a little too overtaken by that one moment to figure out what was going on.

[Irina Wintour]

It was becoming more and more difficult to hide his agitation. What was she doing, wriggling around like that? If she kept on like that he'd just stubbornly close his eyes and walk right out of the building: she'd have his card, and he was not keen on dealing with such an inquisitive witch at the moment, particularly not one who seemed to be trying to...to...

He was casting his eyes to the side, avoiding looking straight on at the young woman-- which was growing harder by the second; he probably would need to leave, or simply try asking her to stop (though he somehow doubted she'd listen to him)...

...but then, an abrupt maneuver placed her directly in his field of vision. Eyes locked, with no protective pane between them. Only for an instant.

Jacob inhaled sharply and jerked backward, twisting his head and opting to face her head-on, bringing his sunglasses into play. Useless. Too late. Anytime he locked eyes with another person and there was nothing to obscure his raw power (that is, sans sunglasses), a sort of bridge formed between himself and the...well, the "victim". He hadn't consciously forged a link between the two of them and so there was nothing to feel, not on his end, for he had long since grown numb to his natural radiation of power, and in this form a link was therefore imperceptible to him...but he didn't need to feel anything: he could see it plainly etched on the Arun's face. He'd snared her.

He had a moment to try to recover from instant, bombastic horror, a moment to make a quick decision-- he'd have to leave her, to get completely out of her sight if his hold over her was to be broken. Just as he couldn't sense their connection, he couldn't lift it when it was so relatively weak (always a sickening thought for Jacob, to realize that this level of influence was, in point of fact, marginal when set against his full, terrifying potential). His only consolation was that he HADN'T used any deliberate influence; at absolute most she'd view him as her bosom friend. Still, he did not intend to stick around any longer. He'd bothered her enough. It would not be in good form to take advantage now and prompt that heart-to-heart he'd hoped to pry out of her earlier.

He'd had his moment to consider all this. Angela claimed the next moment, the one Jacob would have taken to evacuate his seat and make for the exit, and rounded the table to slide in next to him. Right next to him. That was shocking in itself, enough to make him freeze up, but then she leaned in and rubbed her head against his shoulder.

He could face so many things without ever feeling the edge of panic...but his own power was not one of them. As far as he knew, the poor witch was smitten with him. He could not fathom how she could possibly have been so affected, he hadn't done anything...he did not realize that Angela only happened to be rather susceptible at the moment, having been dwelling on the emotional events in her life. He COULD have looked further, and it would not have been difficult at all, now that they were connected. But of course he was shying away.

Shying away was an understatement. MUST LEAVE. NOW. "Excuse me," he said somewhat breathlessly, somehow managing to recover his pleasant smile, and although he absolutely did not want to touch the girl any more than they already were, he wrapped his hands around her shoulders and started to guide her away, off the seat, so that he could stand. "I am glad we had this conversation, but I really must go now. You won't mind, of course."

He honestly hadn't meant for that last part to come out so...authoritative. He was alarmed at how easy it was to regress to that tone of voice, that manner, that loathsome charm he'd perfected all those centuries ago and had spent almost as long trying to subdue. It was always too easy, once someone was so conspicuously under his power, and yet it frightened him anew each time. Would it never get better? God grant me the strength to resist...

With any luck he'd just pick up his notepad and book it for the door...but he wouldn't run. That would likely only make her want to follow. He'd teleport as soon as he made it outside and into a private enough patch of shadows.

[Angela Arun]

"Whu-?" Angela asked as she allowed herself to be effectively moved off of the seat and out of his way. "Where are you going? What did I do?" she asked. She inwardly wanted to scream at her tone of voice - the witch in her was coming to its senses, but not before she let out a string of.. "Wait, come back! Why are you going? Was it something I did? No, please --"

What is WRONG with me?, she thought angrily. She stopped in the middle of the floor and closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. She was instantly lost amidst the sea of dancers as Jacob made a hasty exit out the door. As soon as he'd gone, she felt her feet firmly on the ground again, and was absolutely disgusted by what had just happened.

"I'm going to kill him," she snarled, springing to life and breaking into a run for the door. She didn't go the way he went, rather, ran down a narrow corridor by the bathrooms and hit the back exit, hoping to cut him off before he could get anywhere else.

Okay, Angela, NO eye contact!

[Irina Wintour]

Curse it. A number of patrons were littered outside Café Sangra this evening, clustered in social little groups all across the front of the building. Jacob sidestepped one group only to nearly collide with another, and narrowly dodged a few more before he managed to make his way briskly around the corner of the establishment. Surely it would be dark and deserted enough back here to--

CURSE it. A couple of smokers, lounging against the wall under a flickering light, leisurely glanced over at him. He could tell that they were human, and humans ignorant of Nyeusi: they'd just arbitrarily chosen this café, this spot, to loiter. How inopportune. He was not about to teleport in front of innocents. Fine, back of the building. He bypassed the smokers and headed for the darkness ahead, just need to turn the corner...

And then a door banged open in front of him. He didn't even have to look to know who had opened it. Her anger made it quite clear. Oh dear.


_{((a short and rushed Jacob post?! unheard of! ))}

[Angela Arun]

Angela stepped from the darkness, that familiar swirl of the Arun power around her now. She'd raised it just enough to block whatever the HELL that was that had just happened to her from happening again - which was both good and bad. Now she was pissed off, and Jacob would have to actively DO something to convince her not to tackle him. "You," she said, pointing a shaking finger at him. She didn't trust her voice at the moment, so she took the opportunity to step up enough to get right in his face.

"What in the FUCK did you do?" she demanded. At the raised level of her voice, the small pocket of humans, who had been around the Café long enough to know that fights here tended to get... ugly... backed away. That left the back corridor vacated of human life for the moment, which was fine by Angela. Jacob though, wasn't answering fast enough, so she took another step. She had no idea how old he was, or how much power he did have, but when it came to her temper, she rarely stopped to think clearly about what she was doing.

By now her power would be radiating off of her, enough to let him know that she wasn't playing around.

[Irina Wintour]

Jacob automatically reacted by holding up his hands quickly, palm-out, in the universal gesture for "I mean you no harm". That was always the first path: peace, and talk. The next was to teleport. The last was to employ his ability.

He did not think that would be such a good idea right now. Besides, she was plainly avoiding looking in his eyes, even as she snarled at him at such close proximity. She had apparently picked up on how she'd fallen under his power.

A quick glance to the side confirmed that the smokers had left, and that he now had an opportunity to escape...but...that was just running away from the mess he'd created, wasn't it? As much as he was not eager to face an incensed Arun that he had inadvertantly snared, however briefly...and he could have fled, he was going to flee...but now that he was face-to-face with her again, he realized --admitted-- that he owed her an explanation. It was the least he could do to repay her the indignity of overwhelming her mind.

He was taking too long to mull this over, and when Angela took yet another step forward, he was forced to back up a pace. He didn't doubt she'd leap if she had to wait a moment more, and so he finally answered, keeping his hands aloft, and spoke as gently as he knew how: "Please believe me when I say that it was entirely unintentional, and that I am deeply sorry, little witch."

...Alone, that wouldn't cut it. That's why, as he spoke, he lowered the walls that he almost constantly had up. Jacob was a vampire who, other than his permanently manifested special ability, was quite adept at masking what he was from others: he was of the Mira bloodline, after all. He didn't just stroll around emanating nearly 15 centuries of power, he continuously locked it away, walled it in, only allowing it to escape when it behooved him (such as recently, when he'd teleported Rae Adams away from Father Dantes: he'd let the other vampire have a taste of his age, to discourage him from following). It was not that he was insanely powerful, either, but age carries an awful lot of weight: anyone who could feel his power --when he let them, and when they knew what it was they were feeling-- would instantly be able to feel the burden of more than a millenium...and a witch, so in-tune with auras, would feel more than that.

When you got down to it, Jacob was the epitomee of melancholy. His power was laced with the genuine grief and guilt that had been building along with it for centuries. He hoped it would be enough to convince her that he was, indeed, QUITE sorry...and he hoped the swell of power would not frighten her into attacking.

[Angela Arun]

Unfortunately, hasty, brash Angela had her receptors for power wide open, hoping to anticipate an attack on the vampire before he could get the level on her again. When she felt his power ebb forward, she prepared to use her own power to knock him on his ass, but instead was forced to take a step back and put a hand up on the wall to balance herself. It seemed he was repaying her for her previous venture of turning his questions around on himself, and she didn't appreciate the gesture so much.

She was hit with a wall of... a very familiar feeling. Angela was as guiltless as they came most times, but having to always try to temper her aura down was something that slowly nibbled away at her psyche - the Arun line had that vampire taint in their essence that still was evident enough humans could sense it. She was always alone, isolated, picked on... Until she'd met Jared, she really hadn't ever even had anyone, except for a few friends who seemed to enjoy her company and ignored the unease they'd initially met her with. Angela had proven herself to be a valuable companion, friend, and so much more -- and yet here she was again, alone.

And so was Jacob. And she could relate.

She covered her face with her free hand, sliding down the wall with her other to land in a somewhat crouched position. Her head absolutely ached. She had shields up, but he was old enough to just seep right through them - since it hadn't been an outright attack, she was untrained on how to deal with it. Her instinct was to just slam her power around herself as a best defense option, but the... sadness she felt absolutely overwhelmed her. Jacob had gotten her again with his power, but this time it wasn't purely the manipulation - it was his... energy. It was simply him, and there had been no force or will on it other than to show her that he was really telling the truth when he said he was sorry. He was so sorry, and it broke her heart.

"I didn't mean..." she managed. She sort of just stayed where she was in her defensive little crouch, leaning against the wall for support as both hands covered her face. She'd started to cry, but not because she wanted to, it was just.. if she'd have been a Vida, it might not have gone this way, but as an Arun she was already known for letting her emotions take hold of her, whether she wanted to or not, and all the training in the world wouldn't take that from her. It was simply in her character makeup as a living being to be passionate with every breath she took, and it wasn't always the best course of action.

Aw, hell. Now she felt bad.