Not Alone PV Closed

Kyle moved quickly and quietly with Erin, letting her lead him to the location he suggested they go. The cold didn't matter much to him, even in his sleeveless vest. Maybe it was his cursed blood, or maybe it was his natural body heat but he always ran warm. When they came to stop at the water's edge the two stood quietly for a moment, before she said she was sorry. Kyle wasn't sure for what, after all the night had been a success to him so far. in his mind anyway.

Kyle then went to speak on the reason he wanted to come out here but, she stood on her tippy toes and leaned forward to kiss him. It caught Kyle off guard but it was a welcome gesture. Kyle leaned into it and reciprocated the kiss, sharing this happy moment together with Erin by the lake before things took a more grim turn.

After the kiss ended Kyle would stand quietly for a few moments, looking into Erin's eyes as he tried to gather the courage for what was going to come next. Then with a deep breath his eyes cast downwards "Listen Starling. You are magnificent, and I have had a great time with you tonight. And I want to keep having more great nights but. That can't happen until you know the truth about me"

He let go of the girls hands and he took a step back from her. There is conflict on his face for a few moments before he finally reached up and unbuttoned his vest and pulled the collar down, revealing the savage bite scar where his neck and shoulder meet. "...Its a werewolf bite starling..." he speaks quietly

It was not an act of love, she hardly knew him. They were similar, an observation that Kyle was swifter to realize. Aggressive and psychologically pained, while perhaps kindred spirits in a number of ways they were also not good for one another -- they encouraged the other's violent tendencies and it was likely neither would pull the other from the grip of madness. She probably could feel something for him, they had more in common than Jack ever did, what she felt for Jack was real at least to her. She experienced it and it was made of the sentiments she should have had but she was enamored with an image, a lie. Not even a clever one, an opportunistic act, a failure to made a correcting statement.

Honestly, what she was looking for in Kyle was a good time.

She she kissed him at an opportune moment in a setting that some might have considered romantic. To her it was merely isolated. To her twisted mind it was a place where the they might not even hear someone scream. Even now her mind was on the risk, the potential that he was a death witch, perhaps an ally of Thomas and the other coven of hags. A perennial thought for the part veela teen, not that it deterred her from some semblance of physical comfort.

It was Kyle that was looking for more once the kiss broke. Not in the physical sense, there was a troubled pause. She mirrored the pose, instinct more than empathy. What?

"Listen Starling. You are magnificent, and I have had a great time with you tonight. And I want to keep having more great nights but. That can't happen until you know the truth about me"

And while there was no hope, no ambition within her despite being a denizen of the emerald house, something inside of her sank. It is not you, it is me. A kind way of saying, it is really you but let's not make you feel worse about being the problem. I am not what you think. Because she is inept. Mad. Seeing him as someone he is not. Being lied to, only he like Warren was willing to come clean. She took a measured step back, her jaw stiffened but she said nothing. She would get over it, she did not have a heart to break.

She took an audible breath as he stepped out of melee range. Her fits of rage a choice, not a compulsion she was not required to lash out. "I was not expecting much, even if it is a lie," she claimed, dismissing whatever truth he wished to reveal. It did not matter if he was Kyle or someone who stole his name, he was there. She did not expect honesty or even basic human dignity from her peers, she had not earned any but perhaps their price was too steep.

When he unfastened his buttons of his vest, his inability to feel the chill of the autumn air somewhat astonishing, she simply observed. This might be more than she had signed up for, she was willing to kiss on a first date but heavens Kyle she was only fifteen. It was not for the presumed purpose of hanky panky, but rather to reveal a brutal scar that marred his collar. It was as if something large had taken a chunk out of him.

Her head cocked to the side like a curious bird at the display, perplexed by what she saw. He bore a mark on his face, a rarity among their kind.

A spell gone wrong.

An attack by a magical creature.

There were not many potential causes, her default was the crones which made her pale when she saw it. "Another one... Did Tom send you?" A shiver ran through her. She was allegedly fearless but she was not quite that dumb. It was of course always Thomas' fault, even this. She took another step away as the gears in her head started to turn. She needed to run away from this isolated space, the stony shore of the Great Lake. She needed to get back to the castle, not that she trusted anyone there to be effective in the least, but witnesses served as an efficacious deterrent. She lacked the fight or flight cascade that protected the lives of those threatened, her heart failed to haten yet she knew that she had to run.

"...Its a werewolf bite starling..."

He interrupted her thoughts but his statement did not grant her significant reassurance as she looked skyward. Yes, she was checking for phase of the moon. Werewolves were dark creatures, cursed men that transformed under the light of the full moon. She was hard pressed to decide which was better until she gave it a moment of thought. One was certainly an enemy, dangerous and devious. Eventually one of the misaligned students in this school would find her at an inopportune moment and that would be the end of her. The other was simply dangerous. It left one cautious question -- "did you take me here to kill me?" That was what werewolves did wasn't it? They had wolfsbane, the propagation of their kind was a conscious decision. Moreover, so wasn't the deaths of those unfortunate enough to cross a were.

The question took the air out of his lungs like a gut punch.



The pained expression that crossed his face would be pretty clear if Erin was at all good at reading facial cues. Kyle probably should have expected such a question, it was fair. Afterall, he was a monster. Werewolves had plagued the magical community for a long time, and Fiends like Fenrir Greyback did little to help with the stigma his kind carried.

"No...I brought you here because you and I...were alike in alot of ways. And I wanted you to trust me. So, I shared with you a secret. Something I hide from everyone" he rubbed the back of his neck "Ive been a werewolf for three years. Its...been hard. but thats not the point" He took a deep breath before he took a step back towards Erin, doing his best to not appear threatening in anyway. "I know what Scars mean among our kind. Scars come with curses, or are left by some darkness and well...since you assumed I would try to kill you its fair to think you dont carry my curse. But, you have been marked by something. Your back, I saw the scars. And I saw what looked like movement under them." Kyle took a deep breath and let out a sigh

"You have been pretty accepting of me, knowing what im like. And I want to do the same to you. So, If you know what marked you. What they did that scarred you or if its something you struggle with. I know what its like to struggle with a curse. You aint alone Starling. yeah?" He was searching her face, her eyes for some signs of her emotions or what she was experiencing. He was sure he was reading too much into things, or maybe even over stepping but well...the dumb boy had caught feelings was trying to follow that road wherever it led.

A werewolf bite was essentially the kiss of death, even someone as young as Erin knew that. Her early years spent listening to stories, the sorts that end in the slaughter of wizards. Cautionary tales of the dangers of not just the blood curse that twists them at their very core but also how it twists their mind into something dark and how it can be spread. It would be a lie to claim she did not look in her periphery, attempt to discern a route of escape, it was merely instinct.

Of course this was going about as well as expected, perhaps better. She did not run away screaming of course she considered such to be a futile effort, she saw him drop Quinn Healy in a single blow. Did you bring me here to kill me at the behest of Thomas, the crones, the death witches, the giants.

"No...I brought you here because you and I...were alike in alot of ways. And I wanted you to trust me. So, I shared with you a secret. Something I hide from everyone"

She remained stiff as he rejected the notion of murder. Words were easier than actions. She counted her breaths as time seemed to slow. "Secrets can be dangerous," there is an old adage that states two people can only keep a secret if one of them is dead. She did not verbalize this thought, she knew better. There is a difference between fear and calculating risk. As strong as she was, her attempts to sculpt her body and hone her physical form into a weapon, something that could survive she was not about to take a unnecessary risk. She did not believe she could outmuscle a werewolf.

"Ive been a werewolf for three years. Its...been hard. but thats not the point"

She let him talk. He did not appear aggressive yet.

"I know what Scars mean among our kind. Scars come with curses, or are left by some darkness and well...since you assumed I would try to kill you its fair to think you dont carry my curse. But, you have been marked by something. Your back, I saw the scars. And I saw what looked like movement under them."

She visibly paled before she subconsciously straightened her back, fixing her slouched posture. It is true, there was a maze of marks, deep and terrible that had long since healed. Her long, presently blonde, hair covered most of the markings. The scars were silvery marks, no longer an angry red or deep purple. Not grossly noticeable but that's the problem with green sparks, what was at one point barely discernable was readily apparent.

"It's moving now," she echoed solemnly. She supposed it probably would eventually. She was not aware of the shifting, writhing presence sealed inside of her. She let out a sigh as she took a stiff step back her heel touching the frigid water. He was not the first person to see the marks, just the first to pretend to care. She was paranoid, dark notions gnawed at the back of her head. "Were you asked to notice?" Her body felt numb when she asked. If so, by who?

"You have been pretty accepting of me, knowing what im like. And I want to do the same to you. So, If you know what marked you. What they did that scarred you or if its something you struggle with. I know what its like to struggle with a curse. You aint alone Starling. yeah?"

He would not see emotion, not in her eyes but her face was expressive. An effort to emulate the sentiment she lacked. The sentiment she was marked for. She shook her head, "your secret is safe with me. People..." her voice trailed off. "Hide a hell of a lot worse," that is within their power to change. "It was a deal gone wrong, just paying the price," she replied. She had explained it in part before, what she said simply made its way to her Head of House. Hardly his deepest betrayal.

"Guess you can say, I am never really alone." She faked a smile, there is always three.

A change of subject, not curses or death. Not on the paranoid notions festering in her mind. The perennial dread of knowing that the darkness has claws. Screw it. "Just..." she struggled with the words she needed to say. She sighed. "Pay closer attention to..." how should she term this. She shook her head. "There is a lot of stuff," was the stuff the right word? It wasn't but she did not have a better one. "A fight," a better word. "Regardless of the side you choose, you seem to be able to handle yourself at least."/b]

Kyle listened intently as Erin spoke. Something was moving inside of her. and her statements that she is never alone. was something inside of her? some creature or something? That had to be bad. especially if it was something made or put there with dark magic. "Nobody asked me to notice. I noticed Cause I care Starling. Yeah?" he took a step forward and he would attempt to put a hand on her arm in a comforting fashion. He looked into her eyes and tried to find to real her. Was she scared? upset? determined? angry? what really motivated her and kept her going. Especially with this fight she was talking about, and picking sides.

"I ain't picking sides in anything. But if there is a fight, You can bet yer ass Ill stand by your side for it. For better or worse. you can count on that. Figure as good as you can fight, who could stop us" He offered a comforting sort of smirk as his thoughts went back to the strange movement on her back. Was this something he could help with? Was it something he should bring up to anyone? There wasn't really anyone he could trust with this kind of information on the staff. The only person he could trust...He needed to tell his cousin and come up with a plan to help Erin

"Starling, I am going to help you ok? I dont know what is in your back or who put it there but I know what its like living with a curse. I may not be the smartest but I know someone I trust with my life. That you can trust who is the smartest witch I know. We are going to work together and make sure things are ok." he had a determined fire in his eye and he would attempt to use the closeness aquired from touching her arm to try and kiss the Slytherin another time. "After all, This was just a first Date. And that means there will be more, other wise its not a first. Just a regular ol date. Yeah?"

The problem for @Kyle DeRook was -- he hardly knew Erin Ryan. There was the superficial: an attractive, slightly older woman who was not only interested in spending time with him but seemed to embrace the Gryffindor's violent nature. It was too early to develop feelings, emotional attachments to anyone, especially someone who merely made a positive or at the very least an accepting early impression. Of course, Erin was unique in the fact that she was incapable. Incapable of caring, of feeling passion or urgency, want or even fear. Everything felt as if she was feeling through a pair of gloves, hearing from beneath water, seeing through a pane of glass. Disembodied did not quite describe this sensation, more she felt like a puppet master - manning an avatar that vaguely represents her performing a temporary role.

The proper term was depersonalization and derealization, not that she knew either. Even this conversation felt distant, the touch of his skin felt like it was through a heavy blanket. She felt the pressure and even the warmth but... something lacked. "That's unfair," she announced. There was no protest, a statement that came out as an odd fact. She let out a sigh and looked at him, he was trying to find something deeper and he would find that to be problematic. An uncanny truth, her eyes were present, the both of them. Lovely, glistening orbs of sky blue. Her genetics were favorable, but there was something lacking. Something missing. This spark, this spirit. They looked like doll eyes, bereft of flaws but also of life. "I can't... feel anything," she admitted. It sounded melodramatic and perhaps it was. She had passions, wrath and rage, vendettas and concerns. Yet even they were wrong. "Not that I have not tried," she force out a self-depreciative laugh as an attempt to feign humanity. "The truth of the matter is, I am incapable of reciprocating sentiment. Just a conscious effort to abide."

He would mention a fight. Allying with him. Words he had heard before. Words that proved to be a lie. Much like the statement of concern, an interest in forging an emotional alliance as well as a physical and a social one. A history of betrayal had told her that his statements were unlikely contrite and if they were, their relevance would only be for a limited time. Something she should resent; something she somehow did. There were these sparks, these painful moments of humanity. They should represent hope, hope that if she could experience something even if it was longing or pain but nothing else would come unless it was taken. "I am sorry," it was just words. She could not feel the remorse that should accompany the statement. But an apology means more than regret, it also represents a promise to -try- but it felt hollow and shallow still because it was an exercise in futility. So what would follow would be an explanation, as needless as it likely was, there was nothing to truly lose. "I never could, or at least naturally for as long as I can recall," she self-corrected. "My father studied dementors, their lingering process stole from me..." she shook her head, that was a statement she could never be certain of. "Or, I never developed... the emotions normal people have."

Did the reason matter, no it really did not. It was merely an explanation, the provision of a schema. The honest building blocks to render understanding she did not expect to become relevant. "You will forget," she commented out loud. It was not the first time she revealed these intimate details. She regretted trusting and sharing, if only because an ache remained where her heart should be. Or betray. She would have to fight, she would always fight. Eventually she would die and she looked forward to the conclusion, the eventual escape that such a finality offered.

He made a promise to help but she was not certain she could be helped. That he truly would if the opportunity eventually arose. "I don't know if it is a curse, I can't see my back. I just know... it was ripped apart," it was likely grotesque not that the part Veela needed to suffer from vanity. It was that her values failed to align with others. She turned to show her back to Kyle, her long blonde hair pulled to the side. He would see flesh that had been twisted and discolored, like bruises. Areas swollen, like she had recently taken a beaten. No open or festering wounds but there were a redness, an irritation. It appeared that she had been cut open, more than once. Marred with uneven, rough and seemingly jagged scars.

"They took something out, a lot of something. Put something back in I suppose, not much surprises me anymore." She let her hair fall back down. "I'm fine," she asserted. "Despite my limitations, we can have fun."

Kyle listened intently to Erin as she talked. Struggling feeling emotions, or an outright lack of them. Was it from the curse? being around dementors? Just genetics? Ultimately the real reason didn't matter as much as the current state of affairs. Kyle couldn't really grasp how that would feel. He was always an emotional person. Sure he normally dealt with anger, rage, frustration and the like but those were such red hot emotions that fueled him the idea of not feeling those was completely alien. Beyond that love his his Ma and da, shame and regret over what happened to his best friend Duke, and even the feelings he felt for her both before and after the betrayal. The road of life that led him to where he stood tonight was more or all defined by the feelings along the way.

"Regardless of what happened to you or how...I am an ally. Your friend. I want to help you and I want to work with you. So just...dont forget that yeah? I got yer back. Yer enemies are mine and what you want to figure out so do I. And, I may not be super smart or good with books but Ill try and figure out what they did to your back and See if I can do something to help. Everyone needs someone they can rely on, can trust and know is on their side. So I am going to be that for you. Whatever ya need. Yeah?"

His eyes looked into the older girl's, looking for understanding or acceptance of his words, not wanting to end the night with uncertainty.

Kyle could not grasp how that would feel because it would feel like nothing at all. It was never there, never lost, never missed but yearned for. Like an ugly duckling that never knew it was a beautiful swan but still wanted to be lovely.

Kyle would make a proclamation, that he was an ally, a friend. Words came easy, they cost nothing and could be carefully chosen but such ephemeral thing as a statement held such weight. But trust should not come easy. Thomas reminded her of that fact, Erin was a faithful friend even if she did not know how to show it. Her dedication was rarely, if ever requited. It meant a lonesome existence she longed to fill with company. Perhaps that is why she was so fast to accept, why she took Thomas' claim that they could be friends to heart. Why she denied the warning signs with Paracelsus.

In truth, Erin was a creature to be pitied. She wanted what she did not have. What she perhaps did not deserve and what she had certainly not earned. She simply took what was offered and honored the relationship with a fidelity that perhaps someone with passions was incapable of. Perhaps that was why.

"Thank you," she replied after a moment of silence. She smiled, the expression a lie. An attempt to seem more human. She could at least be a lovely facsimile. "I believe you," she lied. Nobody else had done what he claimed he would do and he knew her less, this being their what -- first date? Yet she wanted it to be true, she would tell herself the same lie over and over again until she forgot reason. Forced her festering paranoia somewhere deep and forgotten, it was the only way she got through the day.

Afterall, her days are numbered. She might not even experience learning she was lied to yet again. Like she said, she could have a bit of fun with the time she had,