A Captive Echo (Staine x Bunny)

[Staine]

Time.

Time moved in such a strange way. Most thought it was linear, time moves on and all that, but Christian knew better. Time travelled in an elaborate pattern that looped in on itself like a Celtic knot, flowing freely from one direction to the next so that it was unrecognisable for what it was. Moments in time repeated themselves often with only the background changing as the lines intersected, wars, major events, and sometimes...something smaller, more insignificant. He'd seen enough of it over his lifetime, over six centuries of observing the twists and turns and many, many loops that the passage of time created.

For him, it started in the town of York in England, where he had been born. His early life had little adventure or conflict, growing up with friends and relatively safe from the ravages of the war that never seemed to end. As he had grown older he had fallen more and more for one girl, a pretty young thing named Isidora whom he never strayed far from. She had her hobbies, she painted from the age of 15 onwards and he had posed for several portraits as she had developed her skills while he had been learning his trade as a blacksmith, shoeing horses mostly though he had made his own sword just to see what it would be like to wield one. They had fallen in love, promised their lives to each other and he had even been on the verge of proposing to her. They had been each other's firsts, and all he could see was a happy, blissful future with the love of his life ahead of him when the one thing they had feared the most had happened. The king's man had rode into town with his guards, men wearing mail and carrying halberds who stood menacingly as he had proclaimed he would be taking one able bodied man from each family to fight in the war. England needed soldiers, and Christian was the only man in his family besides his father who had lost a leg to infection years prior. Isidora had to watch as his family name was called and he was forced to step forward or run and die a deserter's death. "I'll come back...wait for me, I promise I won't die in this war..." Those had been his last words to her but they had both known it was unlikely he would be back any time soon. The war had already been going on for 50 years and showed no sign of ending. He wouldn't be back any time soon, if at all...inexperienced he wasn't expected to live very long, the only thing that would save him was the trade his father had been teaching him. They always needed good blacksmiths in the camps.

The first few years were a blur of training and learning to craft actual weapons, not like the clumsy, misshapen sword he had once created. Skirmishes happened, he saw his share of combat but the gods had blessed him; his first kill was sheer luck, his foe was just as green as he was and both had been clumsy, swinging wildly until an arrow had hit his opponent in the thigh. Christian might have frozen, unsure of what to do had he not already been mid swing, his sword burying itself in the man's flank. He hadn't slept well that night, seeing his eyes looking back at him as he realised what had happened, the last look of a dead man. Over time it got easier and with training Christian even became quite skilled, finding he was good with sword and shield and making modifications to his own equipment to suit him perfectly. Before he knew it a decade had passed. Every chance he got, every friendly town they stopped in he would write to Isidora, send it back with travellers willing to deliver a message for the right amount of coin and had always left their next destination in the letters. Sometimes he had a letter waiting for him though he was sure he missed many as they often changed direction or arrived earlier than anticipated only to leave the very next day. Another 5 years passed and by then Christian wasn't just another soldier, he was a seasoned veteran. He had his own command. He had scars, he was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield and still kept to his trade. He made his own armour, mail and plate, his sword, his crossbow, his shield. No longer a boy, he still wrote to her, even that final night before they pushed into that small French village. It was supposed to be easy, defenceless, though he had questioned why such a place hadn't been taken already; they knew English soldiers had passed through here before yet there were no signs of their occupation or even a battle, no sign of anything, in fact, and they had made camp. As night had fallen they had spotted her, a lone girl had been standing there. French, beautiful, her skin so pale that it was almost pure white, not a single blemish on it, the only colour being those ruby red lips. Her eyes had shimmered in the light of their torches, flickering from green to blue, there had been a sadness there, and something else...a hunger. Wearing nothing but the long, black gown that seemed so unfitting for the dirty, abandoned village there seemed to be no danger from her, no harm in inviting her to sit with them, eat with them, and well...it had been a long time since they had been in friendly territory, his men had needs. He had needs.

Approaching her he hadn't known the danger he was in until it was too late, she had thrown him aside and gone after his men. Hitting his head against the wall of one of the homes, the last thing he had heard had been the screams. When he woke, he was no longer a soldier...he was no longer human. Genevieve...that had been her name, the vampire that had turned him. His men hadn't been so 'fortunate', all dead, but he...he never did know what she had seen in him, he was with her for another decade, her companion as she liked to call him though he had felt more like her servant, and in those first few years he couldn't fight her, couldn't disobey a direct order until he had grown stronger himself, but still hadn't the strength to leave, to seek out Isisora, always on his mind. In Paris it had come to an end, they had gotten greedy, fed from too many and during the day the mansion they had occupied had been attacked by those they had drawn the attention of, vampire hunters and mercenaries alike. The last he had seen of Genevieve she had been cornered and he had taken the opportunity to leave. He'd loved her, in a way, ten years of his life had been devoted to her and it hadn't been all bad, she just wasn't the girl he always had in his mind, the girl he craved. He had fled France, making his way back towards York, avoiding conflict until finally he arrived home. Isidora still lived there, but in 25 years a lot had changed. She had grown older, she had married, she even had children, he had seen them as he watched from the shadows on the night he had planned to go and see her again. His heart felt like it had been pierced, tempted to stay and wait for the sun to turn him into ash in the street, or to rend her husband limb from limb in a bloody massacre...but he couldn't do that to her. He'd spent many more nights watching her before he had left one more letter for her, signed under a different name, saying he had been killed in combat and cremated in France. With the letter he left a small chest filled with the money he had accumulated over the last ten years, a small fortune after all he had stolen from his victims, and a single pendant set with a large emerald, the only thing he had remaining of Genevieve. Leaving, he had spent the next few hundred years staying out of the light, building his fortune and taking what he wanted. He had learned from his time with Genevieve how not to draw the kind of attention she had, to not be so greedy but to still take what he desired.

Over six centuries later and Christian hadn't fallen in love again. Oh, he had his fair share of women, he had developed the same kinds of inclinations that Genevieve had shown towards him, he liked power, being in control...but he hadn't kept a single girl for more than a couple of weeks before he had moved on, always looking for that next thrill. Beyond that he had become a collector of sorts, medieval weapons, armour, artifacts and of course art, which was why he found himself in his Nuremburg home, eagerly awaiting the opening of another new gallery. Art, he had found, was best appreciated when you found the artist early in their career, nothing beat discovering a brand new artist and their work and being the first to own a piece of history in the making. He had done it so many times over the years, buying up some of the earlier works of artists such as Giorgione, Da Vinci, Rembrandt and Monet. Always seeking the next, he often found himself walking through galleries, buying up any that caught his eye. He was doing no less in the Kunsthalle and the new exhibition. That's when he saw it...he'd frozen in place, just staring at the painting for over thirty minutes, taking in every detail, his memory pulling him backwards through time towards his youth when he had seen her last, his Isidora. There was no mistaking it...there was no chance that this was some mistake, it was too perfect, it was her, but how? Had she too become a vampire, had she somehow found another way through time, or was it possible that somebody had somehow recreated her image exactly how it had been down to the very last detail? Eventually he managed to pull his eyes away long enough for them to fall on the plaque beneath the painting and the single name on it. Ava Gardiner. He'd sought out the woman responsible for organising the exhibition, he had told her money was no cost but more than that, he had to meet the artist, he had to know who had created this, how they had gotten her likeness so perfect. A hundred thousand euros, that was what he offered, that and a meal at an expensive restaurant, all paid for by him. The only catch, of course, would be that they had to meet at night, nine pm.

Days later he was still thinking about the painting and the artist when had gotten the message that she had accepted his offer.

 

[Bunny]

Ava stared at the email she'd received from Hans in disbelief; it wasn't the first time she'd been staring at her laptop with an open mouth and puzzled furrow between her brows in the last ten minutes. The first thought was it had been a mistake, second giddy excitement and now she was just dumbfounded. Ava was a painter, a skill that she knew for a fact ran within her blood. Isidora, her many times removed great grandmother had been an artist. Pale, slender fingers toyed with antique gold setting of her necklace before her fingers smoothed over the emerald within. It had been Isidora's once upon a time, though the necklace had been the source of great debated within the family. They had never been so well off to have such a bauble through anything but a gift from a nobleman... But Isidora had married Friedrich, who had also been a peasant, not a lord. Had there been someone else? Ava was sure there had been, the sketches of a man, the same man filled books and they were not her husband. Ava had been interested enough to do some research into the time when Isidora had been alive and was almost positive the mystery man had been drafted into the hundred year war. A shake of her head sent a heavy fall of deep brown curls swaying and eyes blue as the Caspian sea focused one more on the glowing screen of her laptop.

Dearest Ava,

I have exciting and unexpected news for you! An interested buyer, Christian Ward, wishes to buy one of your paintings. I know we did not plan accordingly to have any of your pieces to garner such interest and therefore didn't set any prices. However, Mr. Ward was quite insistent that he must have the painting and has offered an unusually generous sum of one hundred thousand euros. Very generous, I know. There is however, a caveat to the offer; Mr. Ward would like to meet you over dinner at Meier ZweiSinn at nine pm this Friday, the 7th. I have already accepted on your behalf.

Hans

Ava could hear hear Hans' voice as she read the email for the fourth time, the thick German accent tinged with a slightly pompous tone. A smile curled slightly over her lips; Hans was pompous and quite full of himself, but he owned the most prestigious gallery in Nuremburg, and the surrounding cities. Such a feat entitled the man to such. Despite his outward demeanor, he was a kind man and treated Ava almost like a daughter. To have her art displayed in his gallery at her age? Virtually unknown, it was unheard of. Neither of them had expected someone would wish to buy any of her pieces and if they had not for the price listed within the email. Ava was a little annoyed that Hans had accepted without talking with her first, but she understood why. She'd be a fool to turn down such generosity. Ava just... didn't wish to meet the buyer.

Ava was shy and would have preferred to have taken half the offer and skipped dinner, her fingers had even started to type out that response. Ungrateful. The word slipped into her mind like poison. It would be ungrateful to ask Hans to negotiate on her behalf, ungrateful to turn down the offer... It wasn't as if the painting was anything truly special, a self portrait. Did... Did the buyer know this? Over the next few days Ava flitted between declining the ridiculous offer and panic; Meier ZweiSinn was known to be quite upscale and Ava had nothing to wear. Calling in several favors and making even more promises Ava had been allowed to borrow a dress from her friend Natalie's boutique.

---

Ava slipped from the cab, butterflies dancing within her stomach. Deep tawny locks had been artfully arranged in a romantic messy up-do, tendrils of hair falling to frame her face, a comb of pale gold and pearls pinned into the charming curls. Natalie had taken pleasure in doing both her hair and her makeup. Her face had been left mostly bare, though golden, smokey eye shadow had been carefully applied to her lids as had kohl. Her cheeks only lightly blushed and her lips given nothing but a pale gloss. Standing within the chill of the night air, Ava lingered. The black dress she wore was little more than a sheath of fabric, it fell against her soft curves like a second skin. It emphasized her slender form, the gentle swell of her breasts, tapered intake of her waist before blossoming gently at hips and rear. The thigh high slit made her short legs seem longer, as did the heels that boosted her diminutive form several inches. The fine netting that covered the bodice of the dress and her arms glittered in the darkness as the light of the restaurant reached her. In the hallow of her throat rested Isidora's necklace.

A deep breath was taken and Ava slowly entered Meier ZweiSinn, thanking the man who opened the door for her in a whisper. Coming to stand before the host, she waiting till he lifted his head. "Hello.. " her voice was unsure, shy as she met his eyes. "I have.. dinner reservations.. I think?" The man before her frowned, clearly feeling like she was in the wrong place, it was written all over his face. "Ward?" Her voice, or rather the name she'd whispered had his face changing, like the first spring thaw, the doubt became solicitous and welcoming. "This way Madam"

In a daze, Ava followed the man through the glittering restaurant. If asked, later, all she could recall of what she'd passed as she'd walked to the table where Mr. Ward waited was bold colors mingled with cream accents and gold; perhaps the soft classical music too, though nothing much past that. Delivered to the table, the host bowed and she was left starting at Christian Ward with wide, stunned eyes. The man.. from.. Isidore's sketches rose to greet her. One small hand rose to her necklace, finger tips touching the pendant, lips parting. It.. It.. couldn't be.

 

[Staine]

Christian spent the next few days wistfully remembering his youth, how he would show Isidora what he had learned, forging at first clumsy little broaches of steel and iron as he honed his craft until it was perfect, gifting them to her, roses and lillies and other flowers in wrought iron form after seeing her wear one, once. He'd taken her when he had finally been allowed to hunt prey, testing his accuracy and mettle on his own, though she had stopped him; not wanting to see the bunny speared on the end of his shaft she had stayed his hand and they had returned with Isidora smiling but no meat. It was worth it, she hadn't been the only one smiling when she had kissed him for his sacrifice and for sparing the creature. He recalled how she had told to everybody that he had done it for her, how the men had laughed but how her female friends had giggled and whispered to her; he never did learn what they had said.

Leaning back in his chair, he looked out at the night sky. How could this painter 600 years later have her likeness so perfect in her mind that she could recreate Isidora from oils and canvas? Isidora had died so many years ago, hadn't she? Even if she hadn't, she wouldn't be so young again, the painting had clearly had her around the age he had last seen her so what could it be that this had happened? Baffled, he was all the more excited to meet this 'Ava', to question her and to enjoy his meal. Meier ZweiSinn was not a place he went to often despite his wealth; considering that he could afford it he felt it cheapened the enjoyment he got from the lavish restaurant so he used it only when he wanted to impress, and he very much wanted to impress Ava, to no doubt leave her with the feeling that she couldn't say no to him when he asked her how she had managed to recapture Isidora so perfectly. Hans, the owner of the exhibition the painting had been enshrined in had accepted the offer immediately, and he had already chosen his outfit. Now all he needed was patience.

Meier ZweiSinn had only a few tables available that night; by design, not chance. Christian had spent a considerable amount of money to convince several of the patrons to cancel on them, insisting that it would be worth it to them to re-book their reservations so that he could have a little more privacy. Not all of them, he didn't want to overwhelm the girl but he also made the surrounding tables vacant so that none would overhear them. Dressed in an impeccable Givenchy suit from Paris, modernised to the latest styles and flawlessly tailored, he waited patiently, turned towards the door with his back to the corner of the room in the booth he had chosen, yet another layer of privacy. It was important to him that he kept that, not only because of his rather secretive existence but also because he wanted her focused entirely on him. It could have been pride, or perhaps intimidation; he wasn't entirely certain but he knew he wanted to entertain her personally. As the allotted time approached his excitement grew; Christian didn't get nervous, hadn't in a long, long time and especially not after the last few hundred years. Starting with almost nothing after leaving York for the last time he had survived through stealing from those he fed from, careful not to kill his victims as Genevieve had, to draw attention. Survival. That was what he aimed for.

Biding his time, after a century or so he had found a more profitable way to use the money he had gained; by having others commit more extravagant crimes for him. Organised crime...now, under his leadership, he had established a large connection with the underworld and had maintained it carefully, keeping suspicion from himself as he put on a more philanthropic facade. Nine...he heard the clock tick and he could already hear the restaurant host speaking to a woman from all the way in the back corner, hearing heightened, a gift of his vampirism. Smiling and not wanting to appear rude he was already rising from his seat when he looked towards the approaching artist, and his eyes went wide with shock. Staring at her he was filled with a sense of yearning, his heart would be bursting through his chest as he took in her face, her features...his eyes slowly falling to the pendant around her throat.

Perfectly identical at least, he was sure it was the same one he had left for her all those years ago. How was this possible? It was her...Isidora, but he had already seen her older than this, was recalling how he had last seen her in his memory? Had she been raised and sent to give him a second chance by some foul necromancer? He tried to reason with himself as his mind whirled in infinite possibilities, in all of them it seemed to become more ridiculous than the last. His knuckles were turning white, he had to breathe yet he didn't need air. "Isidora?" It was quiet, spoken near silently as he noticed her hand move up to the pendant, it seemed she too was as enraptured by his appearance as he was, that she recognised him, further proof that it was clearly her. He closed the distance between them almost instantly, his hands coming up towards her face before stopping, one resting on each shoulder as he held them, his eyes meeting hers. "Is it really you? How can this...how has eternity kept us apart for so long?" In her own eyes he saw fear and confusion, not quite the same as the recognition from earlier as she started to pull away and his grip faltered. No. As shocked as he was Christian was finally starting to gain his ability to think back, and this...this wasn't her. She was identical but she was slightly more slender, her eyes didn't have the quite same shade of blue-green, more blue in Ava's than green, and of course it was impossible. He released her, stepping back. "I...I'm sorry, I forget myself...Ava, Ava Gardiner? Please, take a seat."

Coming to his senses he was thinking this could be one of two things as he took his seat. Firstly, if he thought logically about it then it was just coincidence...surely there was enough people under the stars that there could be doppelgangers, he had heard of them and not of any real necromancers, or two, and much more likely. A descendent. Isidora had children and of course more had followed in her bloodline. He waited, gesturing to a seat opposite his own with a menu waiting. "Please forgive my outburst...you remind me of somebody I knew long ago."

 

[Bunny]

He was a perfect recreation of the pictures Isadora had sketched had sketched and painted; from the lines of his face to the coloring of his hair and eyes. Like he'd walked from the late thirteen hundreds, right out of one of the books safely tucked away in her rooms and into modern day Nuremburg. Staring at him wordlessly, the fear and confusion only became worse as he whispered Isadora's name, quiet or not she'd heard the sound of his voice as he'd breathed out the word. Large eyes watched as he came closer, his hands falling to her mostly bare shoulders. The touch of his skin to her own drew a shiver, the coldness almost shocking. Leaning back within his touch uncertainly as he questioned her, if it was really her; the word eternity hanging between them heavily, as if it had the power to weigh down the very air they breathed.

The grip on her shoulders lessened and then released, giving Ava the chance to step away, putting a bit more space between them. All the while she resisted the urge to rub her shoulders, to warm them once more. Within her breast, her heart raced, a dizzying tango of sound. She was honestly scared of Christian, how could she not be. She couldn't brush away the similarities of the the man before her and the one her great great great however many times removed had captured, not when he'd breathed her name, shocked as much by her own appearance. Though, in her fear, vampire or logic as to how he knew of Isadora, nor how he knew her name didn't pierce through her panic; reasoning, logic and even the illogical left behind in that rising tide of emotion. Asked to sit, Ava hesitated, unsure if she wished to sit with the man. Could she say that Christian could have the painting, free of charge if she was allowed to leave here and now? He scared her still, the feeling not dissipating. Ava had no knowledge of what Christian was, had the thought vampire even occurred to her, her fear might have made more sense; a primal fear of a creature that fed on blood, the apex predator of mankind.

The moments stretched out, slowly ticking by as it was clear Ava was deciding to sit or not... to flee. It seemed he grew impatient, gesturing to the seat across from him and her back stiffened slightly, anger bubbling up to cover the fear. Her chin lifted a fraction as her mind raced. Was he a stalker? The longer she let her mind run wild with the idea the sillier her guesses became. Slowly she sat, adjusting her skirts. No, she was being silly, wasn't she? No. The word was whispered from her mind. Red flags were a real thing, she knew. Something the brain threw up as a warning, highlighting problems, oddities and the like, to pay closer attention to. Ava pressed her back firmly to the plush cushion of the chair, hands folding in her lap. Social etiquette said she should be polite, he was buying her artwork.. "So it would seem.." Her smoky voice was soft, though there was still that tinge of anger trailed by a lick of fear.

Ava didn't wish to be here any longer than she needed to be, those lovely eyes held his own, though the blue within was glacier. "I know I am meant to be all polite" Her delicate shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug of sorts. "However, why did you offer so much for my painting?" A brow lifted slowly. Ava felt pretty sure he was a stalker of some kind, though the game he was playing was quite beyond her. What she did know was she would likely be leaving before food had been brought, his money returned and her painting not within his ownership. If he was a stalker, the last thing she needed was to give him a self portrait. When he waited to respond, she held out her hand in an almost mimicked version of his own as he'd gestured to her to sit, encouraging him to answer he question.

 

[Staine]

Quite honestly, Christian had thought she was about to run, to flee this place and never look back. He wouldn't have blamed her. Faced with the very image of his long lost love, the girl he had wanted to spend his life with but been torn away from so very young, he wanted nothing more than to keep her in his sight for hours, to just look upon her and hear her voice, reminisce about the things that could have been but it would come to an end, like all things inevitably did. Having lived for centuries, it no longer surprised him when things ended, broke or decayed and it all stemmed back to that very first sense of loss he had felt when he had been led out of York to go to war, leaving his home and his love behind. Even then, with promises of a return with honour and glory on his lips he had known he would never see Isidora again, at least not as she had been. He had known they wouldn't truly be together. This...this wasn't her, but oh how he wanted to pretend for just a moment. When the young lady sat down, he offered a smile, trying to brush past the anger that was clearly held in her voice.

Her question wasn't uncalled for, in her place, he reasoned, he would be very curious too and on top of that he could feel something else in her. She had recognised him, that much was certain and yet she most certainly was not Isidora, so how could that be? Memory strained, he could recall posing for her for paintings and sketches, did they still exist? He would have to find out. Offering her a smile, he set his menu aside, feeling it wasn't time to order just yet. "Politeness is often overrated, and this is a strange situation I admit, so please don't worry about the pleasantries. We can get to know each other later, I assure you..." A soft chuckle as he met her eyes, the only part of her that really seemed physically different from Isidora, though of course the personality too...it was a different time, would this be what Isidora would have been like if she had been born in this century? "Why did I offer so much...isn't it obvious? Because I took one look at it, one look at her face and I had to have it." He smiled sadly. "I don't have anything of hers. It's a regret of mine, one of many...to be able to look upon her face any time I wish...why wouldn't I pay for it, and pay well? I'd pay ten times the amount and consider it a bargain." He reached for the single, expensive bottle of wine he had ordered before she had arrived and poured some into his glass before offering the bottle to her. "Of course, I didn't know it was also your face, but it does answer the question of how you came to paint it so accurately. I had thought it impossible, and that's why I wanted to meet you. I wanted to ask how you had managed such a feat..."

Looking around to make sure nobody was in earshot, he relaxed a little, taking a sip of the wine and smiling at Ava. He had no doubt she would be confused, maybe even scared, and she should be. Now that he had seen her, Christian didn't think he could let her go. It was like a second chance...she wasn't Isidora, and he had no desire to make her into her either but there was something...he could make this 'Ava' his own, have something to remind him of her. He still needed to know why they looked alike, were they family? "Isidora...she was a girl I knew when I was your age, roughly." He had already decided he couldn't let her go just yet, and if she entertained him, perhaps not ever. "We were in love...well, I most certainly was, and Isidora said as much to me too. We spent every waking hour together, we played, we taught each other things, hunting, flower arrangement, blacksmithing, drawing. She was an artist too, like you." He chuckled, they really were similar. "I was going to marry her, I had already proposed, I had her father's blessing too but the war...when they came and told me I was to fight in it, of course I hadn't wanted to leave, I would have done anything to stay with her, my Isidora...but fate had other plans. If I had refused, my family would have been cast as traitors, I would have been killed, maybe even her...and yet to leave, I would never see her again?" There was a sad look in his eyes, it wasn't often he showed emotion like this but thinking of Isidora so much in such a short span of time was taking it's toll. "So I left. We wrote to each other...I'm not sure how many of my letters she got, or how many she sent, I received a few but not nearly as many as I would have liked. It was years before I could go back, go home, and when I did...she was married. Had children." He closed his eyes, sighing softly. "So I left. It was the right thing to do, I didn't even let her see me, I left her money to help raise her children, give her a better life, and I left her to live it while I lived my own." Opening his eyes again, his focus was on the pendant he had left for her. "Does that answer your question, Ms Gardiner?"

 

[Bunny]

Back straight as a pin she watched him, Ava gave him the benefit of hearing him out. She had no desire to get to know him. Her face had darkened a fraction at the suggestion, clearly not in favor of such an idea. Everything he said sent off little bells and alarms, warning her to something. What she didn't know. Ava said nothing to the comment that she looked so much like the woman he had once known, Isidora. It felt like some sort elaborate prank. The man from her sketches and paintings would have been long dead, much like herself so Christian couldn't be him.. Perhaps a doppelganger who had a painting of himself with a sick sense of humor. She had no idea of the thoughts Christian was having and had she, she wouldn't have still been sitting at the table while the mad man talked to her of a woman they both knew was long dead.

Ava had little doubt he spoke of her relative, for the story he wove was much like the one she'd pieced together herself about Isidora's life; this did nothing for her nerves as she watched him. She could see the flickers of emotions, but for the most part his face was almost impassive. When his story finished, his eyes were not on her, but the emerald that dangled in the hallow of her throat. The weighty gem rested coolly against her skin, though pressed to her warmth, it didn't leach it from her. Shaking her head, Ava had decided she'd had enough. Rising from her chair she looked at him, standing she was barely taller than him as she sat across the table from her. "The painting is not for sale." Her voice didn't tremble, which Ava was thankful for. "We will not be getting to know one another either. I don't know what kind of.." her brows furrowed as she searched for the right word "game you're playing, but surely someone with as much money to throw around can find a better source of amusement."

With that she turned to leave. She didn't offer any farewell, for she truly had no intent in entertaining him or his elaborate tale ever again. She did have other plans... Christian had freaked her out so thoroughly that Ava had decided as she'd told him the painting was not for sale that it, along with the letters and paintings Isidora had kept and made would go with the painting into the next. Anything to distance herself from this night, that man... Slipping into a cab, she gave her address to the man behind the wheel. As the shiny black car pulled away from the restaurant, Ava allowed herself the first tremble. Arms slipping around herself, trying to regain the warmth she'd felt before Christian had touched her, told her his 'tale'... "Such bullshit.." her words soft. The trip home seemed to take longer, her mind a swirl of thoughts and emotions. The fuck even was that? The longer she thought about it the more visibly upset Ava became.

The cab pulled up to the curb and Ava's head shot up and she blushed. Thanking the man she paid and tipped him before slipping from the cab. Arms hugged herself as a cool breeze brushed by her, the ivy on the outside of her building rustling in the wind. Even in the dark, she could see the colors of the leaves, fading from red, to yellow and finally to green. Trembling she looked around, feeling eyes on her. Frowning she shook her head. The events of the night were getting to her... Slipping through the wrought iron gate, the top of it also fringed with ivy, Ava headed to the lobby of her building. Inside, Ava forwent the elevators, the small dingy box scary on the best of days; instead she opted to climb the two flights of stairs to the second floor. Her door was at the other end of the hallway, a charming welcome mat, lay before her door, saying hello in the languages of the world.

Fishing for her keys out of her small purse she headed down the warmly lit hallway, feeling more at ease the closer to home she got. Funny, how home could make one feel more safe. A private sanctum, where bad things seemed to be a foreign idea. Home was safe. Home would help wash away all of the odd feelings and fears from the evening. Home.. would have a fire place, where she could build a roaring blaze to chase away the chill that refused to leave her, with the history and memories of Isidora and the self portrait she'd done.. Just a few more steps and she could burn it all away and then take a bath and order some truly terrible Chinese food, that she loved.. pour a glass of wine and curl up with a stuffie.

 

[Staine]

Christian could sense a little hesitation in her, fear even as he told his story. Okay...not a little, more than that. He didn't know she had his letters, that Isidora had saved them, nor that she had seen the sketches that had been drawn of him so very long ago, if he had he might not have been so candid about his past. The little things, like the war and how he omitted how long ago it had actually been didn't matter, or wouldn't have without those details and without him using the name of a woman who had been dead for 600 years. As it was, it was glaringly obvious that he was speaking of something that should have been impossible. The girl's heartbeat was rising to a fast pace and his eyes were pulled from her pendant as she rose from her chair, causing Christian to smile up at her as she said her peace. Regrettable...that was how it was looking to be, Ava didn't plan to do this the easy way, hadn't even gotten so far as the offer he planned to make to her to be his live in artist, to draw and paint for him for a not inconsiderable fee. He didn't stand, instead took a sip of his red wine as she spoke, until she seemed to have stopped. "That's unfortunate...but impressive, you would turn down $100,000 on a budding artist's budget with next to no stipulations just to avoid dinner with me? Am I really so repugnant, Ms Gardiner?" He chuckled, he knew he wasn't going to change her mind so he didn't even attempt to try, instead deciding to clarify his position. "I'm not playing any games...everything I have told you is 100% true, and the offer I made was as well. That you wish to decline is unfortunate but I warn you, do not accuse me of playing games, even with all the time in the world I do not play with my food. I mean what I say, always." He let her walk away, waving over the waiter who had been watching the table intently from afar, ready to react to anything the wealthy patron desired. By the time she reached the door he was already paying the bill, with a hefty tip and a bonus for wasting their time and not ordering any actual food.

Rising from his seat, he left the restaurant just in time to see her get into a cab. Christian could have easily had her tracked down and done this another night, he had more than enough information to make it a very simple endeavour to find the young artist but after seeing her, looking the way she did...he didn't want to wait. He didn't want to entrust this to anybody else, to hired thugs or even professionals that could only do the job half as well as he could anyway. If anything happened to her in transit, if she fought back or got hurt...no, he would take all the responsibility into his own hands. Besides, he mused as he swiftly dipped into the alley and scaled the restaurant building silently and effortlessly with movements he hadn't practised in decades if not centuries...he missed the chase. The hunt. Instincts he had let mute themselves were all coming back to him as though he hadn't skipped a beat as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, the dark suit and the simple fact that most pedestrians didn't look up at the night sky while in the city keeping him hidden from view while he supernatural speed and vision made tracking the black cab so very easy. When it came to a stop outside a modest looking building, he waited for her to go inside before he slipped in after her, staying hidden and only rounding corners when he was sure she had rounded the next, using scent and the sound of her footsteps to make sure she would never have the chance to spot him until he wanted her to.

The keys. When he heard the distinct sound of metal on metal as she fished them from her purse, that was when he rounded the corner behind her, letting her get all the way to her apartment door before he pounced; quickly and silently he was right behind her, one hand around her and clamping down over her mouth and nose to silence her while the other was around her waist. A dark chuckle escaped him as she struggled, so much weaker than him, even had he been human she would have been...as a vampire, she never stood a chance. "Room 303, Ms Gardiner. That's good to know, I'll be sure to have your things picked up for you and brought to your new home." With his hand cutting off her oxygen completely, he breathed in her scent again, the very same one he had followed...peppercorns and citrus, floral notes and a slight undertone of cedar...making no attempt to hide what he was doing. "You even smell a little like her, you know that? I know you are not her, Ms Gardiner, but you remind me so much of her...like a second chance. One I shall not squander." Pulling her back from the door his arm came up from around her waist and around her throat, applying pressure to her carotid artery to cut off blood flow until she safely passed out in his arms before he scooped her up. Knowing he had only a little time, he carried her unconscious form to the elevator while pulling his phone from his pocket, making a fast call to his butler. "Dante, I'm going to need you to pick me up, and have a room prepared. With a lock. Yes, yes, I know but I wanted this one and I don't feel like stealing a car like some common criminal to get her back. I'm well aware, Dante, but this is my decision. Yes, and if you could arrange a few men to go clear out her apartment for me, I can't exactly go inside. Room 303, just track my phone. 10 minutes." Fortunately it was dark and the lobby of her building was empty safe for the one girl working there, whom he easily slipped past undetected. Outside, he sat on a bench with her, leaning her against him until the car arrived and he carried her into the back seat.

The drive was short but unfortunately not completely silent as he had Dante to deal with, the tall, dark haired Italian who had been his closest confidante and servant for many years now. "So that's what this is about...and here I thought you had lost your mind, Sir, when you decided you wanted to kidnap an unknown artist." He could see her in the mirror as Christian still had her leaning against him, his arm around her as he straightened her hair. "She looks like the photograph you showed me, the painting from the gallery. Is it her? This 'Isidora' you told me so many stories about?" Christian looked up and shook his head softly. "She's dead, my dear friend, long dead. I think they are related, somehow, look, she is even wearing the pendant I left for her, here." He lifted the pendant gently, feeling the hefty weight on his fingertips. "And the eyes, the eyes are not the same, but other than that...make sure the room is secure, and nobody goes near her besides you and myself for now. I must decide what I'm going to do with her now that I have her." He chuckled softly. "I thought I'd outlived impulses like these, but I had to have her..." The rest of the drive, Dante let him explore his new toy, watching as his master poked and prodded the unconscious girl. He had known Christian long enough to know that he had one regret in life...well, one major one anyway, and the chance to somehow recapture how he had felt about Isidora was something he couldn't deny him. Once they arrived at the large mansion, Dante helped him carry her to her new room, large, decorated with anything dangerous removed for the meanwhile and with a perfect view of the ocean from the balcony, locked behind the iron bars and strong glass. Finding himself both excited and nervous, feelings he hadn't experienced in quite some time, Christian paced the main room, drinking expensive scotch from a small glass while he waited for her to wake up.

 

[Bunny]

That feeling of being watched had faded once she'd entered her building. It wasn't because she wasn't still being stalked, but that sense of safety washed away the ill boding feeling that made her shoulders feel tense. Ava's keys swung free of her purse as a hand covered her mouth. The sound of metal falling to the ceramic tile echoed in the silence of the hallway and the scream her lungs had put their all into was muffled, unrecognizable and dulled, not enough to alert anyone. Christian. His voice rumbled in her ear as he wisely pulled her back. Ava had never prepared to be kidnapped, nor assaulted or molested. Her struggles were, indeed, pitiful; back arching as her legs bucked to try and get leverage. Weightless for a moment, all her movement, struggling seemed to barely cause the bastard to sway.

Adrenaline and fear rode her system as she tried to free herself to no avail, his words heard and not. This wasn't happening! Things like her things being moved, or how she smelled like Isidora all lost to her rising panic. Her small hands grabbed at the hand around her waist and mouth. Curled into small fists, she pounded at him, clawed.. anything to free herself. When the hand moved from her waist to her throat, her panic started anew, clawing at not only his skin but her own as she tried to free herself. His hand around her throat, the strong fingers stopping the flow of blood, causing her world to become floaty. Dots graced her vision and Ava's focus spun at the loss of blood.. Dots at the edges gave way to darkness, her small body slumping against him, going boneless.

Ava, in her short eighteen years of life had never once been unconscious out side of sleep; no surgeries in which she was put under, no comas... She'd never woken slowly, confused and disoriented. Slowly her eyes opened, her eyelids felt like sheets of lead as they slowly opened and closed. A frown furrowed between her delicate brows. Above her was a reflective white surface, almost mirror like; the shocking darkness of her hair and dress against the white of the bed beneath her. Bed? There was a softness below her body, her weight pressing into the pillow like surface. It.. was a bed. Turning her head, Ava closed her eyes quickly as a wave of dizziness overtook her. Wall length windows, tinted showed rocks and ocean, the sky dark still outside, but lights beyond the windows lit up the turbulent sea. Struggling to sit Ava recalled Christian and his words. Brought to your new home. His.. hand around her throat, the way he'd breathed in her scent.

Those things alone forced her to overlook the reaction her body had to standing up suddenly after moving to the edge of the bed, her world shifting uneasily. She tried, almost comically, the main door first, only to find it locked. Restraining herself, she didn't pound on the pale wood, but rather moved to the next door. It opened into a lavish bathroom, that matched the theme of the bedroom; creamy and white, with large windows overlooking the same dark seas.. The final door after Ava tugged it open reveal a sitting room.. Who ever had decorated the rooms she found herself trapped within had loved the pale creams, whites and gold with dark woods contrasting. They had expensive tastes.. Looking around she began to try every window.. every drawer..

Time trickled past slowly and she became more and more agitated. As an hour passed, Ava began to test the durability of the door, the windows... Banging on the door, screaming for help. Picking up what looked like a very valuable antique and bashing it into the glass again and again; this served to do nothing more than cause Ava to harm herself and break the chair. Fuming she went back to her search, her anger rising. Stalking around the room, her dress slithering against her form. While calling Christian every foul name she could think of, combining them and re-ordering them as it suited her. On one such pass, her dress caught on the broken chair and she gasped, trying to save the precious outfit only to tumble to the floor, a shout of pain slipping from her mouth as her jaw clipped the edge of the coffee table.

"Godsfuckingdamnit" She could taste blood, and feel the split in her lip. Frustration and pain getting the best of her, Ava burst into tears, the moment the sensation started to bubble. arms thrown onto the coffee table, Ava buried her face within their confines and sobbed, her small form stretched over the floor as tears and blood mingled together in the pool of her arms.

 

[Staine]

Christian sat in his chair, the fire roaring, his eyes closed as he thought about what he had done. In the centuries since he had managed to escape from Genevieve and left Isidora behind, he had managed to build his life into what it was, alone. Homes all over Europe and even in America and Asia, his fingers in criminal pies all over the world as he sat and pulled strings from wherever he had decided to live for the moment, he had more than enough wealth to last a lifetime. Not his lifetime, most likely, immortality did have the drawbacks of needing a never ending stream of revenue to go alongside it, but that hadn't been an issue so far and likely wouldn't as long as he didn't throw all he had away. He had power, too, even though he kept to the shadows, kept his name out of the media and public eye there were those that knew him, those in power knew of the influence and sway he had, knew that he was a dangerous man. Some thought he was a member of the mafia, the triad...all of the criminal organisations that ruled the seedy underbelly of the various continents he spent his time in but the simple fact was that he didn't quite fit into those worlds. To rule over any one of those organisations would take too much micro-management, to be a part of one would be to have to take orders from another; neither of those options appealed to him. Christian had instead remained just on the outskirts, he had his own network of criminals he relied on, his own businesses that acted as a legitimate front for the criminal dealings he made the vast sum of his wealth from. He had the power, and he had the money without being tied down but there was something he had never had, not since Isidora. He'd never had love.

His relationships had all been short lived, devoid of very much romance or emotion, tied to the sexual deviancy he had learned to embrace from Genevieve and his own tastes which had evolved over the centuries. He would take a woman, sometimes more than one, and they would be more his plaything than any significant other...significant they were not. Always replaceable, always there to satisfy his needs and desires and nothing more and discarded once he had grown bored of them it had done nothing to prepare him for what he was feeling now. It wasn't love, either, that would be ludicrous, he had only just met the girl and she was already locked away in his home, but there was something he felt. Obviously, it was his feelings for Isidora...but he knew very well they were not the same person, that this girl no doubt hated him, had already shown she feared him and wanted nothing to do with him, but he just couldn't get her out of his head. Obsession...could that be it? He chuckled to himself, taking another sip of his scotch, the bottle almost half empty beside him; it had been full when he had started drinking a few hours ago, and while alcohol didn't affect him as much as it could have, it was certainly starting to take a toll on him now. Was he truly so obsessed with the idea of Isidora that he was going to keep this girl? The morality of it didn't bother him so much, but he had never kidnapped a girl before, all had come to him willingly, drawn by the power, the money, even just his appearance and charm. He chuckled again, he didn't know if he was even that charming but he knew he at least looked good.

A loud thud rang through the room, loud for him at least. More sounds followed it, the sounds of items thrown on the floor, windows tested with all kinds of heavy objects, wood splintering. Her room wasn't so far away that even a human would have heard her, to him it was like she was breaking things in the very room he was in. Laying down his glass, he rose to his feet and started to make his way towards her, listening as she attempted to destroy her room. "Bastard. Son of a whore. Asswipe. Goatfucker." He chuckled at the various names she called him as he approached, even if she was unaware of his presence she made her feelings towards him known before she hurt herself, causing him to take the last few steps towards her room at a more hurried pace. Unlocking the door, of which only he and Dante held the keys, he walked in to find her leaning on the coffee table, sobbing, crying. The scent of blood had hit him long before he had reached the door, his honeyed brown eyes almost glowing with a reddish hue as he fought his hunger. He had plans for Ava...he had no plans to be overly gentle or kind, this wasn't going to be strictly romance on his side but he also had no plans to terrify her into compliance. He wanted something more from this girl, he wanted...he didn't even know. But something. "Are you quite done making noise, pet?" Casting his eyes around the room he could see she had already done significant damage; his captive had no intention of meekly submitting by the looks of it, that was for sure. "Not to mention destroying the room I so generously provided for you. Tell me, don't you think this is a little much?" He didn't approach her, instead he nudged one of the broken chair legs with his foot, frowning down at it. "Expensive too. And look, you've hurt yourself as well. You know, chewing your own leg off to escape the trap is something an animal would do, are you an animal, Ava?" Finally, he crouched down beside her, his formal tone softening a little as he reached out, brushing aside her hair. She might lash out, he was ready for that, but her appearance, looking like Isidora...it made him want to comfort her as much as he wanted to take her. "Does it hurt? I know this is not what you want, but you are going to have to face facts now...you are mine. If you let yourself, you might find you enjoy my company, wouldn't that be better than rampaging through your room and my household? Not to mention..." he chuckled, his thumb sliding through the blood coming from her lip. "You're likely to just make me hungry like this. You can fight, if you like, but you are going nowhere, not yet, so why even bother? Why not embrace your captivity and see what it is I have to offer?"

 

[Bunny]

Too busy with her pity party, Ava didn't hear the lock in the door or it swing open and close once more as Christian entered the room. It was the deep rumble of his voice that told her he'd entered. The sudden sound startling her, Ava's head snapped up and she swore. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ" The skin around her eyes was puffy from the hot tears that had fallen down her cheeks, her skin marred by the wet trail of tears. "Fuck you and I am not your godsdamned pet" The answer was not eloquent, but heart felt, the venom and hatred in her voice clear. Snorting softly she sat up, back straight as she looked up at him from the floor. "Generous. Yes... Thank you for your hospitality." The words tone didn't match her previous one in the slightest and then her face darkened. "Oh wait, I remember now... you fucking kidnapped me you son of a bitch. I don't give a flying fuck about this room or the things inside it" Her eyes watched as he nudged the remains of the chair and she rolled her eyes as the bastard spoke again. "Then you shouldn't have put it in here to be broken" Ava crossed her arms. "Like you care that I am hurt and I still have both my legs, care to let me barrow one of yours?" Again, her words and tone didn't match, though she had no way to carry out the violence in her words, Ava clearly meant them.

Being kidnapped had not improved her feelings about Christian, not that either of them would have thought otherwise. "I am not the person kidnapping people, if you're looking for an animal, perhaps check above the sink in bathroom" Ava was scared, but her anger took the bite out of it, giving her false bravado and a sharp tongue, both she clung to desperately at the moment. When he crouched beside her, Ava watched him with wary eyes and flinched as his hand brushed her hair. Slapping his hand away, she back up from him, scooting along carpet in a very unladylike fashion a few butt scoots away "Don't touch me" That fear was back and she shook her head. It did fucking hurt, but she refused to answer him, her eyes stormy.

"I don't have to do shit Christian and I don't belong to you or anyone" Ava's face split into a sudden smile and a loud almost hysterical laugh escaped her. "The fuck? You fucking kidnapped me you fucking psychopath. This isn't some twisted romance story like beauty and the beast. Jesus" Shaking her head she looked at him as if he was crazy, and she truly believed him to be. Flinching once more as his thumb brushed her lip.. Another slap angled at his hand as she butt scooted further away from him. The last thing he said jogged her memory and she frowned and then winced as her lip stretched with the movement. I do not play with my food. Was.. he a cannibal?

Slowly she pulled herself to her feet, using the window she'd pressed her back against in her escape of him for leverage. "I don't even know what you're talking about, but you can eat a bag of dicks you twisted fuck." Her face contorted and she mocked him "Why not embrace your captivity and see what it is I have to offer?" Snorting she shook her head. "Yeah, that sounds like a perfectly normal thing for me to do. What ever you say Christian Grey" She shook her head and put further distance between them. "I know E. L. James said she based that rapey rubbish on the sparkling twats from Twilight... But for fucks sake, did she know you too? Any other horribly corny lines you wanna get out of your system?" It hit her then and she laughed again, the sound just as hysterical as before. "Oh sweet baby Jesus... Don't tell me you think you're a vampire?" The laughter shook her shoulders and she wiped at her eyes. "Hungry... Food. Wait no! Say 'I wvant to suck your blood'!" Snorting with laughter as the events were getting to her, Ava shook her head. "I'd feel bad for you if you were not such a raging douche bag."

 

[Staine]

Christian could only laugh at the responses he was getting from her, the ferociousness, the expletives that she launched at him like missiles as she spoke her mind freely, not feeling, or rather ignoring, the fear that one in her position might normally feel. He let it all roll off him...he had developed a rather thick skin in his six centuries, and being sworn at by a girl he had kidnapped was hardly unexpected either; what else would he have expected? Well, maybe a little fear and reverence, but they could get to that in due time. He rolled his eyes at her as she started to scoot away along the floor towards the wall. Why did people like to do that? There was no safety over there, backing herself into a corner. "You're not my pet? You could have fooled me, Ava. Look around you, is this not a gilded cage? Are you not trapped in here, my possession?" He was provoking her...he was as aware of it as she likely was, but he felt it was the best way to let her get her anger out so that they could move on, however long that took. And...it was amusing. "Perhaps I should fit you with one of those cones around your neck like a good little dog, to save you from hurting yourself. Bind you in bubble wrap, keep you like a doll instead? I have so many options...it's not like anybody is going to stop me, is it?" Christian knew he could have been softer, kinder to her but she had chosen the path she wanted to take them down already.

Rising to his feet, he took only one step towards her as he fished his phone from his pocket, sending out a text message to Dante. "Please send somebody to come clean the room later when she is out of it, she's made a mess of the furniture already." Chuckling to himself at the thought of exasperation his butler was no doubt having, he sent the message and pocketed the phone again. "You know, even if you don't care for my things, you're going to be spending a lot of time in here, at least until you come to embrace your position, so would it not be wise to keep your surroundings clean and hospitable? Even animals shit in the corner." As he stepped closer she had moved towards the window and pulled herself to her feet, clearly thinking it was somehow safer than the rest of the room. Proving her wrong, he stepped even closer, reaching out to touch her cheek, her blood still on his fingertips from earlier when she had slapped his hand away from her lip. "Isn't it? I admit I was never a fan of that movie, but there are similarities. You the beauty, me the beast. I suppose Dante would be the candlestick, should I have him sing for you?" He chuckled at his own joke. "He's Italian though, not French...would the accent bother you?"

Her next string of comments seemed to go on forever, and he let her get it all out, smirking at the mention of Christian Gray. He had never liked those movies, though he couldn't deny the parallels and his own tastes, and when she mocked him for thinking he was a vampire he couldn't stop himself from laughing, a genuine smile on his face as she carried on. When she was finally done, he was still chuckling softly, the girl was hysterical and even he couldn't tell if her tears were from her laughter or from being kidnapped, though he suspected a mixture of both. "I have yet to have the pleasure of meeting the writer of those novels, my pet, I didn't even know they were based on vampires. It makes sense...the first vampire I ever met had similar tastes, you know." The way he spoke told that he at least believed what he was saying as he reached out and grabbed her wrist this time, smirking. "Okay, I'll bite. I vant to suck your blood..." he spoke softly, but he tried the accent, a glint of mischief in his eyes, the first sign that he had a sense of humour at all. His other hand came down to her waist, and even though he knew she would fight him it meant very little to somebody of his strength. He pulled her into his arms and wrapped them around her, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her to the bed where he threw her down aggressively onto her back. Before she could rise he was on her, straddling her waist and his hands finding her wrists once again, holding both of them over her head.

It took little effort to transfer her left wrist to his left hand, clasping the fingers of one hand around both her wrists and holding them there in place, freeing his right hand to stroke along her cheek as he smiled down at her. "Let me see...Bastard, son of a whore, goatfucker, twisted fuck, douche bag, Christian Gray...you know, of all the names you've called me already, that last one might have wounded me the most." His fingers brushed over her cheek and his thumb rested over her throat and curled around to her jaw, letting him hold her head in position so she had to look up at him. "Though I do share some proclivities with him...I might have more toys though. Would you like to see? I could easily bind you to the bed, but it's more fun when you struggle anyway." Even as he spoke, grinning at her, the sharper than normal incisors in his mouth began to grow, slowly extending millimetre by millimetre until they were more than an inch longer than the rest of his teeth while the hint of ruby red in his eyes started to deepen, almost glowing. Both arousal and hunger drew from the same well within him and he was ravenous for both, considering satiating himself there and then. He growled softly, then smirked down at her. "Tell me, pretty little nightingale," he growled, his eyes locked on hers while his thumb stroked her cheek, feeling her pulse race at his palm. "If I really were a vampire, if I really did want to suck your blood right now, would you scream? Knowing that nobody is going to save you?" He leaned in close, making room with his thumb so that his lips could brush along her neck, her throat, grazing it with the tips of his fangs. "Would you struggle if I started to tear away your clothes?" He kissed her neck and pulled back a little, his eyes glowing even more, he was even erect as he straddled her, when he leaned forward he had little doubt she would be able to feel him pressed against her. "I'll give you a chance though, for now...tell me you're sorry, that you want to talk with me, and I won't take what I want by force...tonight. I'll entertain you with my mercy...if, and only if, you can remain somewhat civil. Otherwise...why should I bother?"

 

[Bunny]

She was trapped, he wasn't wrong about that; it didn't mean she would roll over and beg either. "Being trapped somewhere doesn't make me yours by default. That backward logic only works with objects." Her arms crossed as she looked up at him. "I am not an object. The broken chair" she motioned in its direction. "was". It was amusing and sad that while he claimed to own her and seemingly care for her well being, much like the possession he claimed her to be, he'd kidnapped her and taken away her free will. "There is more than one way to hurt yourself and you can't protect me from all of them" It wasn't a veiled threat, the intent was clear. Even if he tried, she wouldn't let him keep her here. She was young, her life had barely begun, but she didn't want to wait it out and see what he had in store for her either. If it came down to it, she'd find a way to end her life.

Snorting softly she looked away from him, around the room. "Not all animals do, fun fact. besides, I have yet to have the urge. But, for you, I will pick one corner to shit in" They both knew she wouldn't actually live up to the jab; even if for a moment she considered it and then dismissed it out of hand. His joke had her looking back to him and despite herself, she found the quip a tad amusing, though she didn't allow herself to show it. Ava didn't answer him, rather she looked away from him once more. Christian had kidnapped her, funny or charming or not, it wouldn't make up for the sin he'd committed. Nor would providing her with a nice cage. Ava supposed, it could have been worse, but much like the joke, she didn't admit that either. Small little bright sides in what he had done to her, in the grand scheme of things didn't matter. He was still a kidnapping prick.

"Don't call me that" Ava snapped as he called her 'my pet', her eyes flashed, anger surfacing again and chasing away the laughter. "I am not your anything." It was definitely a mix of both; Ava's emotions were roller coasting up and down with each moment. Anger, fear. Fury and distress. Resentment and panic. Once more he spoke of vampires as if they were real and she was honestly concerned for her captor's sanity. Kidnapping her alone had been bad, it showed a lack of morality, empathy, and a clear flagrant disregard of the law... However, insane was so much worse. Smirking slightly she shook her head. "Pitiful. Would be a box office flop." Ava didn't like the look in his eyes and that feeling solidified as his hand reached out for her wrist. Tugging at her wrist did her little good, like struggling to pull herself free of a vice grip. "No!" His hand around her waist pulling her in and spinning her as he lifted her into the air. Their height differences made this easy for Christian, and Ava struggled within his arms. "PUT ME DOWN" Her legs flailed and she tried to kick at his knees, her efforts redoubling as she saw where he was tanking her.

"No! Christian stop" The panic in her voice stripped the anger away and what was left was pure fear. What she expected him to do was clear. She thought Christian planned to rape her and she wanted nothing to do with that. Thrown to the bed, her frame bounced and she didn't wait for the motion to stop before trying to climb off the bed and away from him, but Christian was faster, freakishly so. Pinned to the mattress, the edges of where her body touched it sagging in deeper due to his weight. All that bravado was gone in the face of rape, but she wasn't going to just... let him. Struggling against the hand that held her wrists, she tried to buck him, roll.. anything to get him off her. Ava's breath was ragged, the panic attack settling in as she began to hyperventilate.

Yanking her face away from his hand, Ava still struggled to free herself; it should have been easier with only one hand holding her wrists, but it seemingly made no difference. Tears gathered in her eyes, clinging to her lashes. "Don't touch me" Though, it seemed like Christian had other plans as his hand curled around her jaw, thumb resting on her throat. Her eyes flashed at him, anger in their depths still, and her legs gave a vicious kick. "Get off me!" It was her answer to seeing his toy room. Good Goddess..

Every thought about the man above her, his proclivities and feelings about him vanished. Ava wasn't sure which she noticed first, the way his eyes changed or the lengthening of his teeth; both however scared her far more than merely being kidnapped had. Seconds ago, he'd been a human playing at being a vampire and now he was a monster. Ava's mind scrambled to try and figure out how this could be some sort of trick, a play of lights.. contacts... special effects. Nothing. She came up with nothing and her fear skyrocketed. Vampire? It was like learning Santa wasn't real, this childhood knowledge that something magical and pure wasn't real was something one went through and it helped prepare you for adulthood. Similarly, as a small child, you were told monsters were not real; vampires, the bogeyman, they were fake. As you grew, you learned there were monsters of a kind, but still not like the ones that plagued childhood nightmares, just humans. Ava had thought Christian was just that. A monster, surely, deranged, but a human monster. Now, she knew different and it begged the question as her world turned upside down what else was real?

Ava couldn't find her voice as he questioned her. Oh, how she wished it worked... that she could scream. No sound left her until his fangs grazed her neck and she whimpered. The sound was small, pitiful, and full of the fear written across her face. She'd been scared of Christian before, it had been plainly written on her face at times... this was a primal child-like fear now and she trembled beneath him. Ava wasn't sure if offered this choice before knowing what he was, if she'd have uttered the next words, perhaps she would have if the other option was rape. "I'm sorry" Her voice was hoarse and whisper-soft... more a breath of air than sound in truth. She could feel his excitement, pressed against her body and it did nothing to help Ava's fear. He doesn't care that you're afraid, he likes it... Her mind whispered this to her and the first tears slipped down her cheeks.

 

[Staine]

"Does it not?" Christian raised his hand to his chin like he was pondering some great mystery, a philosophical question of great magnitude that needed an answer that only he could provide, though he couldn't quite hide the smirk on his lips completely. "So if I own you...if I control all you may or may not do, keep you prisoner, keep you here, maybe bind you, put you on a leash and make you crawl around the room naked for me...does that not make you mine?" He'd kicked away the piece of broken chair she had motioned to, quite casually sending it sliding across the well polished floor. "No, you're not an object, Ava, I wouldn't dream of reducing you to something like that...but a treasured pet? That I can picture quite easily...and I have to say the idea is a thrilling one." His eyes darkened and his look became more serious when she hinted that he couldn't protect her from all harm; his analogy of an animal chewing off it's own leg hadn't been meant to give her ideas, and he intended to make it pretty clear how he felt about her hurting herself. "No. You might be right, I can't stop you from hurting yourself, but I can punish you if you try, and I can implore upon you not to do so." For the first time, a flicker of doubt flashed in his eyes. He wanted her, wanted to try this, to build something on the flimsy foundation that was his lost love and her remarkable resemblance to the girl before him...and considering her taking her own life wasn't something that had crossed his mind until now. "It would...be a way to hurt me back for kidnapping you, I suppose. And effective one at that, but you'd lose yourself too. Once you're gone, you're gone, Ms Gardiner, with very few exceptions and I can't say I've ever seen proof of an afterlife, and believe me I have searched for it far longer than most. It would be such a waste to see your light fade so soon."

Christian didn't want to dwell on those thoughts, but he made a note to have her watched over more carefully. While he couldn't stop her trying to hurt herself, he could, should it become absolutely necessary, use his own blood to save her. He wouldn't even need to turn her, though as a last resort that was possible too; vampire blood was the only thing sustaining them in bodies that by all accounts should be lifeless husks, if there was anything magical about them, it was in the blood which replicated inside them. He had seen it heal injuries that should have killed humans before, he had seen miracles like that. If he had her watched, then any attempt on her own life could be thwarted, though he was sure she would hate him even more than she already seemed to. "You would hate his accent so much that you would ruin the room he helped set up for you?" Changing the subject seemed to be the best way to get past his thoughts, and she had threatened to shit in the corner. "Poor Dante, and I am so sure he was looking forward to singing for you. I bet I could have even had him cook you up some delicious grey stuff, Italian cuisine is not so bad you know." It just so happened he had seen the live action version of Beauty and the Beast recently, so fresh on his mind that he could recall the songs and characters even if it hadn't been quite to his liking. "Oh well, I'll let him know that his services won't be required. He's used to it, don't worry. A tale as old as time, really..." Another smirk at his own rather bad joke, before he gave her a soft chuckle. "Oh come now, you don't like being my pet? You haven't even given it a chance, and haven't we established already how I feel about this? Possession is nine tenths of the law, I hear."

As much fun as teasing her had been, it had all led to him pinning her to the bed all the same, and that's when she had really seemed to let the gravity of the situation sink in. Christian was satisfied by the way she struggled and fought against him, such a firecracker attitude as she kicked and bucked like a wildcat, his weight and supernatural strength keeping her pinned easily as he enjoyed the way her body thrashed, her chest rose and twisted as she exerted herself. The predator in him, the part that enjoyed the thrill of the chase and the hunt, it growled inwardly in satisfaction as her fear permeated the atmosphere, as terror was in her eyes. At the same time, the part of him that yearned for Isidora pined, knowing it wasn't her but it still looked like her, sounded like her...to see her in such a state, his mind was split in two about what actually wanted to do, to take her and make her his or to try and soothe her, make her feel safe. Well...safer. In the end he had given her that decision, but not before revelling in revealing his true nature to her. He could feel the very shift of her body beneath him the instant she noticed that everything wasn't quite as it seemed, that he was more than just a human, that he wasn't quite as deluded as she seemed to believe he was. Her body seemed to almost freeze as it tensed up, her heart rate, already fast and pounding, spiked, skipped a beat. Her face showed her fear even as he leaned in, and the soft whimper at the touch of his sharp fangs as they scratched along the delicate, exposed flesh of her throat, her jugular so very close and tempting...oh she had realised what he was, and when she apologised to him he had expected it, was waiting for it. He rose so that he was almost sitting up straight, though he did have to lean forward to keep her wrists pinned, for now, and his manhood, a full nine inches now that he was excited and his blood was pumping, thick and aching for release, pressed against her as he smiled, exposing his fangs to her without reservation.

"See, was that so hard, little nightingale?" He could feel her trembling...part of him was all the more excited, wanted to take her then and there while again, the other part wanted to comfort her, was glad she had given in to him so that he could show her this small mercy, for now. "Shhh...don't cry...I know this is scary but I am a man of my word, that at least I hope you can believe me in, no matter what else you think of me." His one free hand was gliding down from her throat to her breasts, fingertips between them but avoiding grasping the soft, pillowy mounds themselves, careful not to tear her dress anymore either in stark contrast to what would have happened had she continued to fight against him. He could feel her heartbeat at his fingertips, he could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. He took a deep breath; Christian didn't need to breathe, not at all, but it comforted him sometimes like it did with humans. "I will release your wrists, and when you've calmed down a little I will even get off you, let you up, pour you a drink. I will perhaps have Dante bring us food, I do not know what you eat, anything you desire could be cooked up by my chef though and if you don't wish to place an order I will just decide for you." His tone was soft, surprising even himself as he spoke; he was rarely one for offering such comfort, and he was going to take her, make her his...so why did he care so much for her comfort now? He was well aware she wasn't Isidora, was he not? His hand moved back up to her cheek, thumb wiping away at her tears as they came. "No harm to you, not tonight, but as I said you will remain civil. We will talk, you may get angry at me, swear, I won't begrudge you your emotions but I won't stand for it should you threaten self harm or try to insult me." He chuckled softly. "Too much, at least. I suppose I can't rob you of your viper's tongue completely, and I did enjoy your amusing insults. Okay, those can stay, and I will guarantee your safety...but do not try to flee, try to harm me or yourself and do not test my patience. If I tell you to stop something, stop it." He released his grip on her wrists, pulling back but remained straddling her waist, ready to move off her only when he was sure she had accepted his terms. "Do we have a deal, my pet?"

 

[Bunny]

There was something about his argument that made Ava want to growl, that sort of feminine growl that women did when annoyed. Christian's argument made sense on one hand, sure... Had she not been a human, but a cat instead, she would have been his, by the fact he cared for her, kept her safe, fed her. "I will do no such thing, firstly." Ava couldn't keep the annoyance from her tone "Secondly, that argument works for an animal, like a dog or a cat. I am neither. I can speak, ration out my choices. Perhaps if I was here of my own volition and desired to be treated a such you could make the same claim." her eyes went frosty. "However, I am not. You kidnapped me and by doing so, took the ability for me to care for myself." Perhaps he was right, even my taking her, against her will, she was his? The idea didn't sit well with Ava though, so she'd argued against it. "For you, it's a thrilling idea for you. I don't want to be your pet, treasured or otherwise, I want you to let me go" It was the first time she'd said as much... That shocked her. She hadn't begged for him to set her free. Why would she, surely someone who had kidnapped her wouldn't be swayed with the plea to free her.

When Christian touched on the threat of taking her own life, she looked away. Nothing in her relatively short life had ever pushed her towards something quite so drastic. He wasn't wrong, that it would be the end of her... However, she was not so sure how much her decision to kill herself would truly wound him. Even in her mind, she was getting tired of hearing the word kidnapped; it was ever prevalent and she couldn't let it go, like a dog with a bone or a zealot with a cause, she brandished the word and what he had done like a weapon. It was an ineffective weapon, but what else did Ava have? She didn't look back until he spoke again and she made no comment to his words. If she wished to end her life, she would, though it was a finality she couldn't come back from. She'd only do so as a last resort and beyond being an arrogant kidnapping asshole, Christian had yet to harm her.

Looking back to Christian Ava lifted a brow. "I don't know him, but he is helping you with this farce... Perhaps he deserves it?" She meant the words. If this Dante knew that he'd kidnapped her, was holding her against her will? She didn't feel bad about the room or the mess she caused. It took a lot not to gape at him, opened mouth. "Why on earth would I like being your pet or give it a chance? If we'd been dating and you asked for some kinky shit in the bedroom, that is one thing... If I'd come to this point willingly..." She shook her head some, eyes almost confused. "You K-I-D-N-A-P-P-E-D me." Christian wasn't this stupid, Ava was pretty sure, so why did he seem to think she'd just roll over and beg?

The answer to that came quickly enough as she found herself pinned beneath him, finding he was no human monster, but one of another breed altogether. Vampires were real. Even with one pinning her to a bed, that knowledge bounced in the echo chamber that was her mind almost numbly. Panic and fear were too busy taking over, controlling her. The fear she felt had changed, shifted from what one might have considered normal fear of being raped to pure primal terror. Some part of her brain seemed to realize he was talking, and Ava struggled to listen to them, fighting past the blinding panic of one of the things that go bump in the night pinning her to a bed. Ava flinched away from the hand that touched her cheek, brushing away the tears. The coldness of his skin bringing back memories of the night before; Christian's hands on her shoulder and the shocking coolness.

The woman who had easily traded verbal slaps with him was gone, at least for the moment. Beneath him, she didn't say or do anything beyond the flinch. Shock, could one go into shock from fear? A small part of her brain whispered that if she could wonder if she was, she would be okay. It didn't mean she wished to move or answer him, though some of that fire came back to her eyes, the turquoise waters of her gaze when he called her pet for the second time. Hands freed, Ava pulled both arms down and into her chest, trying to make her already small form smaller. He seemed to be waiting for her agreement, and she nodded just once in agreement. Once he'd gotten off her, she scrambled away from him. It was silly, to be sure, with Christian being what he was. It made her feel better nevertheless to have distance between them. "Step one of your plan to break me has succeeded.." There was a ghost of the woman she'd been in her words, though it lacked the normal fire.

 

[Staine]

Her annoyance had been exactly what he had been going for, looking to goad the girl into arguing with him for a few reasons. Firstly, he was enjoying himself, Christian liked their little verbal sparring match, it invigorated him and reminded him how different Ava was from Isidora. It wasn't that he was likely to forget, but when looking at her it sometimes crossed his mind, that somehow she had been reborn and yet their personalities were so different...Isidora had been milder, less prone to bold statements and temper tantrums, or what amounted to them, more gentle. In truth, he had no way of knowing what she would have been like without his kidnapping, which Ava seemed so delighted to bring up at any opportunity, but for now it was helpful to him. He smirked as she argued with him, even going so far as to roll his eyes as she spelled it out for him. He'd approached her, a mischievous light in his eyes. "If you'd come willingly, what, little bird? You would be happily crawling on your knees for me, opening wide to take my...ah, my member into your mouth, suckling on it for your Master?" He meant to provoke her, he knew she wouldn't like the words he used, perhaps even mock them but he didn't much care so much about that as he did for putting the image in her head. He growled softly as he had approached. "Kinky shit...yes, I am very much into some kinky shit in the bedroom, and I would be delighted to teach you all about it...willingly or not." he left no doubt about his intentions. "Yes, I did kidnap you, and I do intend to keep you, my pet, so I'm sorry but I can't just let you go. You'll be happy here if you learn to embrace it. I would like that...but I'm not delusional, I know that it will take time...but I do have a lot of time to spend making you into my little pet...and so many ways to make you love it."

Pinning her to the bed likely hadn't helped his case but it had been oh so much fun, he had almost regretted her decision to submit, albeit likely temporarily, excited as he had been to taste her, to take her. The fear was palpable in the air, he could taste it, smell it...feel it as it made her tremble beneath him in the most delicious of ways. How she flinched at his touch, the meekness of her voice as she said she was sorry, refusing to look directly at him and the way that, once he had released her wrists, she shielded herself and tried to make herself look smaller at the same time by wrapping her arms around herself. Straddling her, he had smiled down at her, both triumphant and just a tiny bit disappointed that she hadn't fought as she nodded her head just slightly. This was the better result, he didn't want to rape her, not on the very first night, talking would be easier for both and he could get off another way. He likely would, just not tonight. "A good decision, Ms Gardiner. I will show you I am a man of my word. No harm to you, tonight, unless you really misbehave, but do feel free to keep your sharp tongue. I was very much enjoying that." Slowly, he raised one leg and climbed from her waist, giving her more freedom should she choose to take advantage of it, which she did almost immediately by scooting backwards on the bed. It made him chuckle, and he watched her curiously as she scrambled. "Understandable, though foolish. I can take you if I want you, at any time, surely you realise that. Tell me, how does it feel, knowing vampires are real? I remember when I first learned, when my men and I were attacked by an innocent, harmless looking girl who didn't seem too much older than yourself." He was already fishing out his phone again, hitting the speed dial number as he climbed down from the bed, walking towards some of the debris on the floor from her outburst. "Dante, you got my message." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and as he said it Christian was already bending down to pick up broken pieces of the chair with one hand. "Good. A meal, I think, something in chicken, bring a salad too just in case and a bottle of vodka, something expensive." He sighed softly into the phone. "I know, I know. Bring two meals, one fish, wake the chef to make it, it's what I pay him for after all. Yes, good man, the door is unlocked, just walk right in."

Closing the phone he slipped it back into his pocket and continued to clean up just a little while she processed until at least the broken wood was off the floor, placing it onto the same table she had cried against. When he was done, and he felt she had enough time, he turned back to her, already unbuttoning his jacket. "Well, have you decided yet? Whether you are going to be a good girl or not, at least for tonight?" He was deadly serious, though he was sure she wouldn't enjoy the term from her perspective. "Yes...yes I suppose I did but that isn't what I want, Ava.." As he spoke he was neatly folding his jacket, placing it on the table. Moving almost silently, gracefully for a six foot, rather well built man who appeared to be in his thirties, he was sat on the edge of the bed facing her. "That wasn't my intention though. I admit...I was kind of excited...I'm sure you felt it. That kind of thrill gets even my heart beating...excitement...I wanted to taste you on my lips, drink of you...I never got to taste her, to fuck her, to take her...just as I never got to love her, to live my life with her, to marry her." For a few moments which passed slowly like an eternity, he found himself almost in a trance like state as he remembered Isidora and the time he had been taken away from her. When he pulled out of it, he was frowning slightly, and his eyes were drawn to her pendant. "I left that for her, you know. Well, something identical, if that isn't the exact one but I feel it is."

Laughing, he reached to her, leaning in close enough that his fingers could brush her cheek again, down to her lip where they wiped away the rest of her blood there. Tempted...his eyes flashed with that hungry red, a sign of his desires. His hunger. "Makes me wonder...who are you, Ava Gardiner. That wasn't her name...Gardiner...I imagine you picked that up form another relative, but you are related to her, aren't you?" His tone had become less aggressive and more curious as he had gone on, and in the heat of the moment he didn't think she had truly considered that he had known Isidora. Oh, she had heard the name at the restaurant and again in this very room but since she had learned he was a vampire he was confident that she had forgotten all of it in a fit of self preservation and disbelief. He pulled his hand back, tempted to lick his fingers and taste the blood on them but fighting the urge he instead reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping them clean before offering it to her. "Here...this might help." He smiled, fully aware she wasn't going to suddenly warm to him but at least trying to give her a peace offering for the night. "You recognised me, at the restaurant. I was convinced you were her for a moment, but you're not, that much is clear. You're different...and I find I want to know you all the more for it." He chuckled and released the handkerchief, whether she took it or not was up to her as he shook his head. "Breaking you...is not a task I relish. I don't want you broken, defeated, I want you standing proud and tall...but you are mine, make no mistake about it, and I don't intend to keep you here just to look at. I'm sure you suspect what fate awaits you...are you scared?" He growled softly, evidence of his lust for her apparent. "Or maybe you're excited? I know a lot of girls that would kill to be in your position...who would know what I'm going to do to them and their hearts would race, excitement, the thrill...knowing the pleasure and pain I offer, willingly or not. The feeling of being trapped...but that's not you, not yet, is it little nightingale?" The way he spoke he left no doubts that it would be in time, if he had anything to do with it.

 

[Bunny]

Would she have come willingly? Unlikely. Even before him, before being stolen away in the night, Ava had not really considered the world that had been badly depicted in Fifty Shades. She didn't really understand the appeal; Ava liked feeling in control of her life and pain had never appealed to her. Truth be told she was a wimp, stub her toe and she was likely to cry if it was hard enough. Ava understood there was a great appeal for masochists to be hurt by sadists, but that appeal did not stretch to her own desires. "No, I wouldn't have. Not really my cuppa... also, for someone who has no problems with kidnapping, detailing sexual acts, it's sort of inconsistent you will not say cock or even penis" She lifted a brow, almost lazily "And you're not my master. I may not practice BDSM, but I know that to be my master, I'd need to agree and give consent. At least you know, you're not a rapey fuck." Shaking her head, the tendrils of her hair brushed against her shoulders with the motion. "You and people like you are part of the reason people see BDSM like they do" Ava wasn't very well versed, but she'd read something like most young adults do; she, however, had been a bit more diligent, because, for a small period, it had seemed appealing. "I seriously doubt all of that. Even if you can force pleasure during, that feeling will not last."

All of what she had said was coming back to her as she put most of the bed between them. "It may be foolish, but it makes me feel better." How did it make her feel? "Does age affect your eyes or cognitive functions?" There was some of the bite back, but her voice wasn't as strong, nor as confident; it was very clear how she felt about it, easily summed up for the most part in a singular word. Freaked. She didn't comment on the fact it was a shame the girl he spoke of had not taken him with his men. It would have meant that she wouldn't currently be in this room with him, something she very much desired. "Define good" There was a lot of grey area there, and had she not been negotiating a night free of harm, with a fucking vampire, she'd still have wanted to know what he considered 'good'. "Not what you wanted, that's... both terrifying and funny at the same time." She was backing along a wall, the stupid hardness at her back was comforting, even if it meant she had nowhere to turn and run. He'd made it clear, that she couldn't just escape him, so it made very little difference. "Either you didn't actually consider what kidnapping me, making it look like you intended to rape me, which was horrible all on its own" she pointed this out with a trembling voice. "And then made it far worse, by stripping away that one childhood certainty that monsters don't exist... but they do and they are rapey fanged assholes" Her voice was rising with each word, that panic and hysteria rising again "Doesn't bode well for me surviving this. Or... You really don't think your own actions through enough to care for a dog, let alone a human, and I am back at being dead.. Which is funny because even if I did trust you.. imma die anway"

Her face hardened, that laughter dying away. "I am not her. I will never be her. You can pretend all you like, but I will never match the image of who she was" It would have been one thing to have been kidnapped because he wanted her. He didn't though, he wanted Isidora... For some odd reason, it hurt and made this all worse at the same time. It somehow would have been better if he had coveted her... for her... "Goddess" Ava covered her face with her hands and struggled to not burst into tears over the fact he didn't even want her. When he mentioned the pendant she lowered her hands, grasped at the heavy stone, and yanked. The clasp snapped, with a soft sound as the metal gave way and she threw it at him. "And now you have it once more" The stone sailed a short distance and would have fallen had not Christian not moved to catch it, his hand snatching it from the air near the ground, much closer than he had been a blink ago.

Fuck. Seeing his fangs, his eyes glow had been one thing, but the speed in which he moved. Heart thundering away again, Ava flinched as his fingers brushed her face. He'd come much closer to save the necklace and had closed the distance between them effortlessly. It took everything she had not to tell him not to touch her, to not slap his hand away, or to attack him in some other way. The slap he might have forgiven, but some sort of other physical reaction would definitely not fall under being a good girl requirement of the night. Ava also steadfastly refused to answer his question. Was she? Yes, the family resemblance might have been enough to convince him of it period, but she'd read journals, letters, seen the artwork of him. The handkerchief fluttered between them and to the floor.

Christian was blunt when he told her what lay in store for her and she nodded, just once. Of course, she was scared. "If there are so many others, who would love to be in my place, then find one of them and let me go. I will never be her, I will never love you as she did..." She didn't tell him she would hate him, for as long as she drew breath. She wasn't even sure what sort of physical and emotional torture he had in mind to break her, to shape her into what he wanted; what she did know was she would hate him with as much passion as she could until he stole that too from her like he had stolen her life and freewill. "I am not them either.. Nor will I ever be" They knew he could make her, given enough time. That was how torture worked. Not all torture was the loss of limbs, life... he would likely find some other method to break her.

The door behind him opened and she wrenched herself from his grasp. "You're ruining my life as someone who has lived far more than his own share, all because I look like someone I never will be. You want to break me and make me a good little doll, just for kicks. I may not mean much to you, but if you loved her at all, you'd let me go before you become something she'd never forgive you for."

 

[Staine]

At least she had fire. That had been what Christian had been thinking during their little exchange, before he had thrown her to the bed and revealed his true nature to her, hoping she wouldn't lose it. She had challenged him in the way that he spoke to her, in what he said, she wasn't meek like he had feared she might be and that was perfect for him...it had been at least concerning. He had kidnapped Ava without knowing the first thing about her really, it was a gamble; she could be perfect for him, just what he hoped or she could have been everything he would hate in a woman and he had no real way of knowing, taking her only because of the startling resemblance to Isidora. He'd smirked and brushed aside her comments, laughing them off with the same arrogant attitude he had maintained from the start. "I have no aversion to saying the word, forgive me for trying to be a little delicate with you. I should have known you'd want me to be blunt." A smirk followed, his eyes wandering up and down her body without reservation. "You underestimate me, little nightingale. You think I can't make you crave my touch? You think I can't make you yearn for my cock?" He put emphasis into the word. "I am you Master now, whether you approve or not." While not delusional, Christian meant every word, he knew that he could break her if he wanted to, and he could do so in a way that would make her more pliable, even willing by the time he was done.

She'd made him actually laugh once she had managed to overcome her fear a little, not entirely but she was pushing through it, either that or her feisty attitude and anger at him was overcoming her sense of self preservation. Chuckling, he ignored her barbed words about his age and moved a little closer to her on the bed, closing the distance not because he had any intentions of harming her but to show her how silly it was to back away, that he was in complete control of the situation. "Good...no trying to attack me or escape, or harm me...as though you could..." he laughed softly at the very idea that she was a threat to him. Cock, arrogant...but he wasn't wrong, it would take an act of god to let her get the drop on him when he was watching her so carefully, and even if he wasn't...he was fast. Strong. Alert. He listened to her instead, right up until she threw the pendant and he reacted instinctively, lunging to grab for it with unnatural speed and precision, snatching it from the air and growling softly, the sound primal and displaying his annoyance. He was back on her in the blink of an eye, much closer, his eyes still glowing slightly as they met hers and his handkerchief fluttered before them, his fingers clasped around the emerald pendant. "Do not..." For a very brief moment he was lost for words, angry...he had left this for Isidora, it meant more to him than most human lives did, as cruel as it sounded but not hers...sighing softly, he slipped it into his pocket. "Are you trying to test me, Ava? Do you think it's wise to push me?"

His hands suddenly found her ankles and he pulled her down the bed towards him before taking his place between her legs, kneeling over her. Leaning forward, one hand found the bed at either side of her head. "Let me be crystal clear...I will not kill you, so no, you're not going to die." Over her like this, he was pressed against her again, not as hard and erect as he was earlier but still in the strange space between excited and annoyed at her, though if she moved much it would soon swing towards the former; Christian in truth hadn't engaged in much rape in his long lifetime but he held a certain fondness for those that struggled beneath him, he enjoyed the power, he liked being the predator that he was. "I will do a great many things to you...whether you enjoy them or not won't even be your choice either, I'm sorry to say, but I do suggest trying to embrace it, it will serve you better...but I won't kill you, Ava, no matter how you provoke me." He moved one hand to stroke her cheek, well aware she wouldn't like it but he didn't care. He could hear the door open, he had heard the footsteps in the hall and he knew Dante had stepped into the room. "Isidora is dead and gone...you seem to think I am trying to make you into her, I don't want that either...I admit that your resemblance to her is why I took you but I am not delusional, I'm merely fascinated and so far, perhaps a little infatuated...so I will have you. I will make you love me, I promise you that, and you will take my cock...I will feel you squirm on it, I will make you take it in your mouth, your ass, your pussy...I will make you orgasm on my shaft despite your no doubt continued efforts to resist and I will make sure you know that you have no choice in the matter."

As he spoke he had slowly leaned closer, like he was going to kiss her, until his lips were just a few inches from hers and his voice was lower to compensate. "I've already done so many things she wouldn't forgive me for, little nightingale, what's the harm in one more?" As dangerously low as his voice was, he chuckled at the end of his sentence, pushing himself up off the bed and kneeling up to face Dante. "Ah, perfect timing, Ava here had a question for you, something about your accent, I believe." Gesturing to his captive, Christian didn't move from between her legs as Dante laid down the tray of food down on the bedside table, pulling away the cloche with one hand and lifting the vodka to pass it to Christian. "My accent? Well far be it from me to disappoint our guest..." As Dante spoke it was with a clear Italian accent, though it wasn't as thick as one might expect, like he hadn't been in the country for a long time despite looking to be in his mid twenties. He also seemed completely unaware of the conversation about the song as he spoke the word guest, though Christian hadn't been able to hold back a chuckle, causing Dante to tilt his head sideways as he glanced from the vampire to the girl on the bed. "So, Ma'am, since my Master didn't tell me what you'd like to eat I brought you some smoked salmon, some garlic roasted chicken and I believe the middle plate is entirely vegan...please help yourself to the wine, or ask Christian nicely and he may share the vodka with you." He smiled, almost sympathetically. "You do look like you could use a drink." Christian had laughed at that, already opening the bottle. "She won't ask, Dante, look at her, she's terrified." Smirking, clearly trying to goad her, he offered her the bottle first while his other hand idly stroked her thigh at his side.

 

[Bunny]

When he was blunt it did make her feel better, there was little room for misunderstandings; his next words didn't make her feel better, however. Ava didn't so much doubt his words as fear them. She wasn't a stupid girl by any means, she knew there were things he could do that would make her beg him to fuck her, that in that moment, she'd desire nothing else. She hated him for that. He had yet to do anything other than tell her his plans, or what he might do to her. She also knew, he could and would likely in time break her. It was an inevitable fact. He would either break her or she'd give up. The latter, much like he had said, was a finality, that there would be no coming back from. She listened to him rattle off what it meant to him, for her to be good. None of the things he listed were a possibility; she could maybe try to escape, but that would need to wait, doing so now was foolish.

His reaction to the necklace was fascinating. "No, no test. I don't care that it means anything to you. It means nothing to me." While her words were spoken with honesty, it had not always been the case. She'd once loved that green gem and the feel of it against her skin. It was now tied to him, to a love he had for another woman. Someone she happened to look like. One more strand between her and someone long dead. In her mind, a hatred for her ancestor was growing. It wasn't her fault, true, but because of her, she was now trapped by a man who once loved her. A man who threatened to break her, and mold her into what he desired she be; at the moment her view of Christian could get no lower. His own desires and reason for wanting here were not well known, at least to her. In her mind he wanted her to be Isidora or a willing sex slave. Either way, it wasn't something she'd ever wanted for herself.

The cry that left her lips as he pulled her back onto the bed and mounted himself above her, had not been voluntary. Once more pinned beneath his considerable bulk, Ava found herself looking up at him. Goddess, she hated this. She had stilled, much like when one might when faced with a wolf. She didn't wish to give him a reason to touch her and, in truth, she was terrified. She didn't need him to die, she could do that on her own. Good Goddess, the man drove her to thoughts of suicide more times in less than an hour in his presence than she'd even had in her eighteen years. The fact that she was so desperate to get away from him and the life he was telling her she'd live, simply because it pleased him. "You might break me, might make me do the things you say, but know until I can't I will hate you. I will hate you for taking my life from me. Hate you for touching me, even if in a moment I beg for it, I will hate you after." Though she knew at that moment, he'd not be the only one she hated. "I will hate you with every breath and if and when you break me, I will not be her... I will not be me. I will be very little better than a doll. That love you speak of? It will not be real. Love is given freely. You don't break someone to love you, at that point, it's nothing less than a sham you have deluded yourself into believing because I didn't choose to love you."

She snorted softly. "I don't know what you have done in your many centuries. I know Isidora.. I know how she felt and thought. Her Wolf was kind, protective, and loving. He protected not only her but the children that one day, in the early autumn... He was the one to spare the rabbit one early spring. Whoever he was, you are not now clearly. She loved you though, and she would have understood, I think doing what you needed to do survive. Kidnapping her great, great however many greats it is, great-grandchild, I think would be something she'd never forgive. You don't need me. You coveted me because I look like her. You are stealing my life, my free will, and talk about breaking me into whatever you desire. You're stealing my short life for your amusement." Looking away from him, she turned her head away from him, Dante, and fell silent.

The smell of food made her stomach give a low rumble but she made no comment to the man who'd entered the room with her. He was no better than the man above her. When he offered her the bottle, she took it. Taking a sip of it, she then threw it. The bottle sailed from her fingers and towards the wall and or floor. He'd need to either get off her to stop it, or it would shatter, either way, she'd felt it was a win. There would either be a moment when he wasn't pinning her to the damned bed, a break from his scent and the feel of him. Or, there would be the satisfying shatter of glass, crisp, the tinkle of the shards as the scattered, and the sound of the liquid as it left the bottle. One more thing for the candlestick to clean up, a slight punishment for helping his master kidnap her and hold her against her will. It wasn't like they could leave the glass...

There would be no moment she didn't fight him in some way. He would, she knew, break her. It was his desire and her own meant nothing to him. She wouldn't make it easy, even if he found little acts of rebellion amusing. She could feel the vodka burn down her throat, and settle in her stomach uneasily. She'd not eaten all day, the clear liquid found itself alone with her stomach, and rolled about unpleasantly.

 

[Staine]

Christian had growled softly as she had said the necklace meant nothing to her, and he didn't even know quite why it bothered him so much. Was it because it meant so much to him, or had to Isidora, or was he taking it as a rejection from Ava herself and that was why it was getting to him? Considering their interactions so far he thought he should be immune to that already, she had quite rightfully done nothing but reject him so far and yet it still hurt him just a little. "Then I will hold onto if for now, until you're ready to accept it...but don't try my patience, Ava." His tone held none of the amusement that it had for most of her rebellious antics, it had been quite clear that he was angry at this. "Lash out at me, if you like, but this...this I left for Isidora and yes, for your family to pass down...you can hate me all you like but she never did a thing wrong in her life, respect what she left for you." In truth, Christian had no idea what Isidora had done after he had left, she could have been a whore, cruel, a drunkard. She could have done anything, he hadn't the heart to continue to watch from afar what he could no longer have, and he didn't know what she had left to pass down for that matter. It didn't seem like Ava had much, so Isidora hadn't managed to obtain the kind of wealth Christian himself had amassed, nor had any of her family in between.

His anger had mostly been what had led him to drag her back onto the bed and pin her down once again, he wanted to feel something other than the annoyance but even that didn't go quite as he had planned. He had her beneath him, and he was pressed against her again, telling her all the things he planned to do to her while she froze up in fear...he would usually find such a thing intoxicating but when she had actually started to talk back to him, telling him how she would hate him something had changed. At first he had been excited, revelling in the idea of breaking her down, that had been his intention from the start, had it not? Then every word she said started to sink in, how she wouldn't be her anymore even if he did manage to break her, how it wouldn't be the same...and then she used that word, that name that Isidora had for him long ago. Memories of that night in the meadow after he had let the rabbit go, spared it for her even though he had been expected to bring back food, coming back to the village looking like a failure but feeling anything but. How they had snuck off in the night with bread, cheese and a cheap wine his father had been saving and laid on the blanket, looking up at the night sky, the moon. He'd told her the story, he'd made it up on the spot about how the moon was the rabbit, how it had fled the night sky to come down and see how the humans and animals lived, and how the wolf, made up of the stars had been sent to fetch her back. They'd both been laying there as he spoke, told her how the wolf had said no, had stayed to protect the bunny, her guardian and companion. She'd kissed him that night, the first real kiss, called him her night wolf, her protector. To hear Ava use that one word against him like she knew...

At first his eyes had glowed, fiercer than they had in a long time, almost bright red...he felt that urge to just take her then and there, sink his fangs into her. Dante's arrival had somewhat tempered him but his joking, his smirk, that had been wiped away completely. As soon as she threw the bottle, he was off her, across the room and catching it before it hit the wall at a speed that even he rarely moved at and bringing it to his lips, drinking half of it in one long pull, half because he needed something to drink and didn't want to drain his captive dry and half to stop himself from saying something unwise in his anger. When he had finished, he didn't turn to look at first, simply speaking the two words he knew would be obeyed without question. "Leave us." Dante for his part had watched the exchange with fascination; he had been about to comment at Christian's notion that she was terrified and on the fact that Ava seemed to hold a grudge against Dante himself despite them having never met, when she had started to goad Christian. Dante had never heard the old name Isidora had called him, hadn't been in the vampire's service nearly long enough to know all his old secrets and it was something he seldom talked about...but the change in his demeanour had been swift and alarming even for him. He looked down at the girl laying on the bed, alone now, a sad smile on his lips like he feared he would never see her again. "Well...enjoy your food, if you can, Ma'am...and if I may, try not to poke him any further...you seem to have quite the affect on him." A snarl was heard from the other side of the room and Dante quickly turned to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, closing the door just in time to hear glass shatter against it as the vodka bottle exploded, flung by the irate vampire.

Christian, not feeling much better for his drink or Dante's comment, was slowly stalking back towards the bed, his eyes firmly on Ava.. "How dare you presume to know what I would or wouldn't have done...?" The small reprieve she had was short lived as he started to crawl back onto the bed and towards her. "How dare you try to tell me...me, what she would have forgiven? You didn't know her and I'm fully aware you will never be her, I don't fucking want you to be her...I want..."

And he froze.

He stared at her for a good few seconds, which slowly turned into more. His hands had found her wrists at some point, he had her pinned to the bed as he leaned over her, looking down, kneeling between her thighs and pressed against her again but no longer excited in any way. The slight buzz from the vodka was starting to affect even him, it wasn't much but it was something, and as he just stared at her he realised that he really didn't know what he wanted. He had acted on impulse for the first time in at least 300 years, taken something he coveted, as she said, but he had no idea what exactly he wanted from her. He had threatened to break and rape her, but what would that accomplish? He could do that to anybody, mold anybody into the perfect little pet, a toy for his amusement, did he really want to do it to the last descendent of Isidora, at least the last he knew of? Minutes passed, time ticking away as he stared at her and thought it all through, before he sighed and released her wrists, raising himself up and moving aside so that she could move at least a little. "Oh you know exactly how to wound a man, did you know you had that gift, little nightingale?" His tone was softer, he had looked away towards her food and sat himself on the edge of the bed, and he chuckled darkly. "So I'm stealing your life, am I? You'll always hate me, and if I break you then I will never have you as you are now...a fair assessment, but you don't half know how to take the fun out of everything, do you?" He nodded towards the food that Dante had left for her. "Eat. That isn't a request, and very much a condition of being a good girl..." He chuckled again. "So...what do we do now, Ava? It seems I can't just take you and still have you, but I don't wish to let you go, you are as much a part of Isidora's legacy as this pendant is...I don't want to destroy you any more than I wish to release you into the world...so do I just keep you here in your cage and see if you flourish, or wither and die?"

 

[Bunny]

Accept it. The words ran through her mind and even if she didn't show signs of it outwardly, she doubted it. His next words earned him the same dismissive brush off, though still silent. Ava wasn't stupid, she could tell Christian was angry; it didn't change her feelings towards her ancestor. True, she had done nothing to her, but because of her, she was in this place. It is unfortunate that in most cases when the sins of the father fall on the son it is because unlike God, people refuse to forgive and forget and heap past wrongs upon innocent generations. The lines from a book she'd read once coming back. Ava had been to Sunday school enough to know what the bible had meant, but the words from the book rang true still. While Christian might not see it that way, it was Isidore's sin falling on her descendants. Ava felt conflicted however, Isidora likely wouldn't have wished this on her. She'd been a sweet, kind woman and till the end of her days, she'd always loved the man who currently held her captive. It didn't change what had happened.

That fury she'd provoked just moments before was nothing like what gazed down at her. She'd truly and completely pissed him off, and fear spiked through her. She knew she couldn't control her heart as it raced away, a mile a minute a beat skipped here and there. Ava tried her best to maintain her cool, and when he rushed off her to catch the bottle she breathed a sigh of relief. If only for a moment, it meant her life would go on just a bit longer. She watched as Christian downed half the bottle of vodka in a few pulls, eyes wide. Had it been her who downed half a bottle like it was water, she would have likely been flat on her ass not much later. Hell, most people would have been, if they were human... Sure if they were larger, bulkier than her tiny self, they might have lasted longer, but in the end, they too would have succumbed. She flinched at the sound of his voice. Dante would leave, she knew... The dear candlestick wouldn't stand up to the beast for her. He did, much like the movie representation of him did and wished her well, she didn't need to look at him to understand the tone. A clear warning, if she didn't stop she'd likely end up dead.

The glass shattering was not nearly as much fun when she wasn't the one doing the shattering. Flinching on the bed, she looked up in time to see Christian turn to face her. His words were and furious as his face as he stalked back to the bed. Climbing back on top of it, she silently cursed for not leaving the bed before he'd decided to rejoin her. Staring up at him she waited, but he didn't continue. Her arms pinned above her head once more, she just started up into his face. Thoughts and feelings didn't so much cross his face as she might have expected. Whatever his feelings, or whatever his thoughts she was left to wonder as he stared down at her. Time seemed to crawl by, and for once Ava was smart enough to keep her mouth shut and not provoke Christian further.

Whatever she'd expected it wasn't that sigh. Nor the releasing of her wrists. He moved off her and she laid there, still for a long moment. Was this some sort of trick? Scooting away from him, she didn't leave the bed but sat up. The dress was not meant for this sort of abuse, and she shifted slightly, tucking her legs to the side as she watched him. It would have been foolish to assume he had nothing else up his sleeve, but his very next words made her blink. A frown worked between her brows, the delicate arches pulling together. She... had not had that gift, at least she'd not been offered a chance to use it on anyone like Christian had tempted from her. A hand moved to her wrists, rubbing at them lightly. Bruises already blossomed along her delicate skin, though still faint; in the next day or so, they would be lovely shades of purple. The softer tone of his voice threw her through another loop and she tilted her head, staring at his back. "I have never had anyone provoke it out of me before..." She allowed a small smile in her voice. "So no, I did not"

She fell silent once more, his voice rumbling between them. She didn't know what to say, but she couldn't just let it go. "Sorry.. Not sorry" Why did she feel.. bad for him? It was by far the most absurd feeling she'd ever had, next to being sad he didn't want her for her. He was being civil though, so she returned the small kindness. "If it makes you feel any better, you draw the most absurd feelings from me" She didn't and wouldn't elaborate if asked. She was only up to sharing so much. His question left her speechless and she gaped at his back. Did he actually want her input? Closing her eyes, Ava shifted on the bed and pulled her kneed up to her chest, resting her forehead against them. She stayed like that for a long while before shifting again, her cheek on her knees as she looked at the dark window. She could see his face easily, and if he looked he'd see her own. "Letting me go is out. But, Christian, in your long long life, when has any animal, or human thrived in captivity when once free?" Her voice was soft, but she felt no need to raise it. "They don't die, but thrive? I'm not some endangered bird, that without you would perish." Ava was aware he'd not be letting her go, so she didn't even bother to ask.

Her next words were blunt. "To be honest, it's not up to me to decide what you do with me next. I may have said what I did in anger and fear, but it doesn't change their truth. You have me, you will not let me go. It's on you what you do next. I'd prefer to be let go. I wouldn't tell anyone, because who the hell would believe me and that's before we mention your a vampire. I'd be put from this cage to another if I decided to try and tell anyone." She looked away, her eyes falling to the food. This change was just as scary, if not more so; there was no threat to her now, he wasn't forcing himself on her. He seemed lost, but it wasn't up to Ava to make him feel better about his brash choices. Sighing softly, she shifted some and then made a soft, feminine sound of frustration. "I will eat if you will do me a small favor?" When he turned towards her she motioned to the dress. "Can I have something normal to wear?" She knew he could take this little request and do numerous things with it. He could tell her naked was the new normal or the normal in his house. He could present her with some bondage getup and claim the same... She could easily see him doing either.

Either way, Ava would eat. She proved this by picking up some of the fruit on the plate. She wasn't a vegan or vegetarian, but she'd like to sit at the small bar in the adjoining room and eat the chicken with a knife and fork. She would eat a few more pieces with her fingers, watching him. She smiled slightly, one edge of her lips curling up. "See, I am a good girl.."

 

[Staine]

The visceral reaction of fear he had evoked in her had been enough for Christian to run on for at least a short while, but as he had let her up, feeling conflicted in his base desires and his need to prove himself to her for reasons he couldn't quite yet fathom, his excitement for that task had been somewhat drained from him. He was at least glad he had made Dante leave, he didn't often show his more vulnerable side to anybody, not even him, and Christian was feeling far more vulnerable than he was used to, that was for sure. He didn't feel at risk, or weak, but...hearing the nickname that Isidora had for him evoked in such a way had left him somewhat shaken, unsure of what he should do going forward. On the one hand, he had looked forward to taking Ava, to breaking her down into a pet that he could keep...well, forever if he so desired, but she had made it crystal clear that doing so came with it's own little issues. She hadn't been wrong; if he broke her, he would have her but she wouldn't be her, wouldn't be the girl he had taken and he would be destroying a part of Isidora along with her, maybe the last living part of his lost love. Christian had done some reprehensible things in his time, things he had no doubt Isidora would frown upon but he couldn't bring himself to cut what was left of her from the world like that...could he?

But then again...he wanted her. At first it had just been that resemblance, he had planned to take her just to look at and admire like a piece of art, like the portrait he had attempted to purchase from her but in the very short time he had gotten to know her he had developed a kind of grudging admiration for her feisty, resilient nature. It intrigued him, she had fought him at every turn, even when terrified where so many would have broken down or frozen up and now he wanted her all the more for it. He chuckled dryly at her comment about not knowing she had that 'gift' she had so unwittingly turned on him and again when she refused to apologise for it. He expected no less, to expect compassion from one he had wronged so much, was still wronging seemed a little far-fetched and Christian wasn't going to begrudge her the anger he knew she must feel towards him. He did turn to face her as she spoke of captive animals, noticing how she was sitting, her knees up to her chest. She seemed...as confused as he was, in all honesty, and he laughed softly, shaking his head. "No, I don't suppose they do thrive in captivity, but I also don't think I am going to be setting you free, not yet at least." It seemed that at least she understood that wasn't an option, she even continued to talk and for a while all Christian did was listen, his eyes on hers, the glow slowly receding as his darker urges and his hunger faded, his fangs shrinking back until they were barely larger than human incisors, his more human appearance back firmly in place as he listened with a furrowed brow.

What she said made sense...not that he was going to let her go just because she said she wouldn't report him, he even chuckled again, a little more warmly though he was confident she wouldn't find his thoughts as amusing as he did. "I'm sure it would be quite the tale you would have to tell, too, little nightingale...but no, you are staying here. I may not break you though...tell me, does that make it even a little better for you? I somehow doubt it, truly. You're still my captive, even if I don't tear away your pretty dress and rape you...and believe me I most certainly still want you. Even now..." His eyes roved over her body, taking in her beautiful form...she was every inch as perfect as Isidora was from what he could see, not that he had ever taken Isidora to bed either, one of his regrets in life that he had just given up on once he had returned from the war. So many regrets...but with Ava, there was still hope, was there not? Hope for something more, something new. He watched curiously as she seemed to have a thought of her own, offering to eat the food that had been brought with her in return for a favour. He didn't say anything at all, just watched as she motioned to the dress and started to move. Once she actually started to eat, he nodded briskly, rising from the bed and striding towards the wardrobe further into the room. "If you had checked, which I'm sure you didn't in the circumstances, you would have seen that you have clothes already here. I am not sure all of them are your size, I had the maid just throw in some clothing that was around the mansion but I have no doubt some will fit, and I have an eye for this sort of thing." Opening the wardrobe, he was greeted with around half a dozen outfits, not much but he had planned to get more once she had been measured for them. Moving the hangers side to side while she ate, he came upon one dress he felt would fit. Taking it out, he walked back to the bed with it in hand, throwing it down beside her. "There, that should suffice for now, it looks comfortable at least."

Turning, he found a chair by the table she had been leaning on when she first entered the room, this one unbroken unlike the other, and dragged it with him until it was in front of where she was facing as she ate, sitting down in it while he faced her. "Now that is out of the way...you leave me quite the dilemma. We both know I don't want to let you go, but I find that I don't want to destroy who you are either...you intrigue me, Ava." He offered her a smile, though again he was certain she would't be as amused as he was. "And you are being such a good girl, for now at least, so what do I do with you, hmm?" He reached for the wine bottle and one of the glasses, slowly filling it while he thought about his options, placing it down on the end table by her meal and then doing the same with a second glass, this one remaining in his hand. He was already a little under the affects of the large amount of vodka he had drank, but more wine wouldn't hurt. Taking a sip as he watched her eat, he finally felt he may have found his answer. "One year." He let the words linger in the air, watching for her reaction. "I will keep you here, little nightingale, for one year. There will be conditions, terms...you should accept them, I will endeavour not to make them too unpalatable for you but I assure you they are a far deal kinder than what I had intended for you." He laughed softly, there was no doubt in his mind that most terms he could come up with would meet that criteria, since what he had intended for her was her rape and the breaking down of her free will. "So even should you wish to balk at them, think twice. Agree to them, try your best to even enjoy your year here, think of it as an unplanned vacation. Once that time is up, if I haven't managed to win you over, a very real possibility I am sure since I have no doubt you despise me with your entire being..." He laughed smirked at her, knowing he was right. "Then I will release you. Free to go, unharmed, unraped, to live out the rest of your life as you see fit. I will even give you a rather generous sum of money to ease your way back into your life, let's say a quarter of a million Euro's for every month you spend in captivity." He leaned forward towards her, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "Any questions? Oh...I'm not going to leave you alone to change by the way...I may have had a slight change of heart but I am still a man, one who would very much enjoy watching you strip down for me."

 

[Bunny]

It was odd, him sitting there. Ava had gotten more used to him being on top of her, staring down at her. If she was honest, it wasn't a bad view. Christian, everything else aside, was handsome. Some of the wind out of his sails, he confirmed what she already knew. He wouldn't let her go. She'd decided to not ask him, but the hints had still been there. Perhaps it was the human thing to do, not ask, but hint at it; or a woman thing. Honestly, she wasn't sure, either way, she'd not been able to keep the hints away. She'd broken something in his desires and Ava couldn't help but have conflicted feelings about that. Breaking them meant he might not rape her, might not break her... but what exactly would he do with her now that he had her? It had been more clearly defined before and while the notion of being raped or broken scared her, the unknown was by far more terrifying. Christian had said he had no intention of killing her... Perhaps he was like those men in the movies who said that then had candlestick boy do while he turned his back? No. Something told Ava he meant what he said, he wouldn't kill her. So what then?

His question, gave her pause as if he could read her mind. Ava was silent for a moment before she nodded slowly. "I mean, yes. Of course, it does. Why... Wouldn't it?" She snorted softly and offered him a piece of pineapple, smiling, ever so slightly as he took it. "I am still captive, but... It's not as bad?" She seemed unsure of this herself, frowning as she looked back to her food. She shook her head some. "Christian, you want me because I look like Isidora. Yes, you know I am not. You may not break me to be her, but that attraction that started this all is because I am almost a mirror image." There was something to her voice, a sadness, that she couldn't repress. It still stung, and she was unsure if that raw hurt would ever truly vanish. Sniffing softly she sighed and ran her hands through her hair as he rose from the bed, her dark locks tousling. "No, I didn't" Ava admitted sheepishly, she'd seen the closet and dismissed it for a way to escape. "If you tell me there is like some secret hatch to escape in the damned closet, I will scream." Her tone was almost playful as he walked away and she shoved another bite of food into her mouth.

When he came back with the dress she smirked and couldn't help poking the beast, she'd been told to very expressly leave alone. "A dress. Why am I not shocked? I suppose I should be happy it doesn't have petticoats..?" She took the dress from him, biting her lower lip as her fingers traced over the red butterflies on the skirt. "If you want me to wear this, I will." It would be more comfortable, but honestly, Ava would have preferred pants. At least he hadn't suggested she go naked... It was a big improvement over that option and over the couture gown she was wearing. Had he picked this dress out for her, himself.. or if Isidora would have liked something like this. Her mouth opened, the question on the tip of her tongue before closing. Caspian sea eyes watched him move a chair closer to the bed, his form sinking into it gracefully. He spoke of a dilemma as he poured the wine for her; it was thoughtful, though she'd not had much wine in her short life. "Thank you" Lifting the glass she took a small sip. It was slightly peppery and slightly chocolaty. Placing the glass down, carefully on the tray she went back to eating. She seemed bound to the bed, though no restraints had been used. Pulling a long strip of chicken free, she pushed it into her mouth as delicately as one could.

Halfway through her dinner, Christian spoke again, and she paused chewing to listen. A year? A brow lifted and she finished her morsel of meat and waited. His offer, all things considered, wasn't... Horrible. Sitting up, a little more straight her arms folded under her breasts. "So, there will be conditions.. I need to agree to them, try and enjoy my time here and you will not rape me, and if after a year, I wish nothing to do with you, you will leave me be, with the tidy sum of three million euros?" She had opened her mouth to ask more questions when he told her he wasn't going to leave without seeing her strip down. her eyes narrowed, but she continued with little more than the glare. "And what will you tell people? People knew where I went, who I met with.. I had school.. Friends, shockingly enough." She picked up the wine glass and took a large sip. "When will I know the other conditions?" If she was going to have to strip for him, being drunk or drunk adjacent sounded like a swell idea, as did stalling. No one had seen her naked since she'd been a child. She'd not had any partners, male or female... "Christian... Something yo..." She blushed and shook her head. How did one tell the man, who had considered raping her, now wanted her to strip for him, that she was a virgin? Just blurt it out? Did he have a right to know? Sighing Ava decided he might as well. "I am a virgin" She wouldn't meet his eyes as she said it. She didn't feel like giving him details, he didn't need to know she'd never done anything other than kiss. She only told him because... Why had she told him?

Clearing her throat, she looked to the food. "Did I eat enough?" If she had, she wanted a shower... And seeing as he wanted to see her strip, she could start. She didn't know what he expected, but she knew what she was capable of. If not, she'd eat more till he was happy, even if it felt a bit demeaning. It wasn't rape. It wasn't breaking her. That which doesn't break you makes you stronger. The lines came to mind and she snorted softly, not exactly helpful, even if it was true. She drained her glass of wine and finally let her eyes rise to meet his own. She doubted his plan, in some ways she doubted his promise... But she had to hope, as damning and hurtful as that might be later, hope he was honest. Asking her to fall for him without Isidora looming over her head would have been one thing, but with her? She felt this was a fool's task... Even if she came to like him, love him, which still sounded absurd... To not feel like she was always being compared? Or wished she was his love from eld?

 

[Staine]

“Yes…” Christian couldn’t really deny that he had indeed become fixated on her because she looked like Isidora, he hadn’t denied it from the start but he also was already starting to feel compelled to see just what Ava had to offer as herself, it was part of the reason that breaking her down held little to no appeal to him. “That’s true...but I do like to think I’ve made it clear that I do not think you are her, nor even want you to be her. You are her descendent...that fascinates me..” He chuckled dryly. “When I first saw you, I thought perhaps you were actually her, raised from the dead, or perhaps fate had designs on you like it had on me, you were a vampire...then common sense got the better of me and I realised that if you were turned, you would look...older. I remember I used to look younger, but vampirism has done little to regress my age, I’m afraid, only to preserve it.” It dawned on him that now that he had given her a form of light, the possibility of not being raped and tormented, he was at least able to converse with her without feeling like he was in a constant struggle for control. Sure, he could have beaten the fight out of her, and when he had her pinned she did freeze up so deliciously, it was a good tool to quieten the girl but he liked being able to just talk. Speak his mind and get a response that wasn’t filled with horror. “But now I want to see you...who you are. You...made me smile. Curse yourself for the wit you were born with, or your fiery nature for making me intrigued with you but it is what it is…” He laughed again as he rose to go to the wardrobe. “Or not, after all it was your strength of character that made me change my mind...I fully intended to do everything I told you I would do to you...but I don’t think I could bear to break such spirit and never again see it in this world.”

Returning to her with the dress, he had laughed at her comments, showing an actual grin devoid of menace or malice to her. “No secret hatch, no portal to Narnia or anything of the sort, just clothes. And a ball gag.” He wasn’t lying about the latter, or the leather cuffs that were in there, though he didn’t think she would appreciate those being mentioned. “In case you got too loud. Petticoats are so very old fashioned and I never did appreciate them...I prefer the more form fitting attire, and I do love a short dress or skirt...I’m sure you can appreciate why.” After placing the dress down by her he had sat down in the chair and watched as she ate, as she took the drink from him and even tried it. “For now, yes, I would like you to wear that. I will have your own things brought up to you soon enough, and if you want anything else to wear it can be arranged. Since I’m feeling generous, I think allowing you clothing unless you misbehave will be a nice part of our little deal.” Her questions had started then, and he decided he would do his best to answer them honestly for her, he had no reason to lie after all; Christan could easily take back the deal at any time and there was little Ava could do to stop him, she was completely at his mercy. “You don’t have to try and enjoy your time here...though I do recommend it to stop yourself from being completely miserable, but yes, that is the gist of it. A simple deal, one I only now decided to offer so forgive me if I haven’t come up with the finer details yet.” The way she looked at him when he said he wasn’t going to leave her while she changed amused him, made him smirk as he took a sip of his own wine, watching her carefully. “Perhaps I’ll allow you to tell them yourself, though of course I will warn you not to try and be clever.” He looked serious for a moment. “I don’t want to break you, but if you can’t be trusted to follow the rules, then I hardly have any other option. This, what I am offering you...consider it probation. Bend the rules a little, be yourself, but do not try to tell people where you are if I am generous enough to allow you contact. Your things will be brought here, you may take online classes with supervision or I can find you a tutor.”

He was about to answer her last question, tell her some of his conditions right then and there when she continued, and he listened, smiling as she told him she was a virgin, not at the comment but at the blush. Oh he did love when they blushed, he saw her cheeks pink up, darkening and could feel his fangs start to grow just a little...he hadn’t eaten in a while, not blood at least...and he looked down to her plate. “Yes...you’ve eaten enough. Good girl.” Looking back up at her, he let his eyes meet hers. “The conditions...I will add some, I haven’t given it as much thought as it deserves yet but we can start with some simple ones. Firsty, you won’t try to escape or solicit a rescue of any kind. Accept your situation. That’s the most important rule, I don’t wish to keep you confined to your room for a year, but if I cannot trust you to behave then what choice do I have?” To him it seemed reasonable enough, and he took another sip of his wine. “Second, no harming yourself. I swear if you try to kill yourself I will bring you back as a vampire and you will find that you’re quite unable to resist any command I give you...any command.” He let the implications sink in as he thought about his own transformation, the power Genevieve had held over him for so long. “It’s not something you will want, trust me on that, little nightingale. I’m sure you rather enjoy your free will, as do I.” He gestured to the dress he had left by her.

“Any more rules I will add, perhaps tomorrow. Tonight I just wish to know if you accept.” Grinning, he looked down to the dress, knowing that she had no choice but to strip for him if she did accept, and if she didn’t...he hadn’t decided yet. “A virgin...well, little nightingale, if you behave yourself and do not fall for me you will remain such for another year...but I should be clear.” His eyes met hers again. “I will not rape you, or break you, but I will touch you. More often than not, you will have a choice, albeit likely an unfair one, I like to play games, and when I win I do so love to claim my reward...but that won’t always be the case. I may decide I just want to touch you, or see you naked...I may even want to taste you, I am a vampire you know, and I am a hungry one at that.” He finished his own glass of wine, placing the empty glass down on the end table. “And this hardly satiates me...but I’m also a man of my word, if you can believe that. If I break my own rules...well I will let you go right then and there, though I suppose you have no need to believe what I say, do you?”

 

[Bunny]

It was hard to take Christain at his word, the initial lust had in fact been that she looked like Isidora. So he didn’t want to wipe her personality from the earth, while a bonus, she couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was she simply looked like his love? She wouldn’t have been here for that simple fact, so it had a larger part to play than he was admitting to. “I am not quite sure what about me being her descendant is quite so fascinating. I never knew her, I merely resemble her.” Shaking her head she fought back a sigh. “So had I not been so witty and full of fire, you would have made me a doll then? Charming” A brow lifted and she looked away from him. It again made her question this. What if her personality traits he found endearing now, failed to be so a month, two, three, down the line? Was she going to be broken?

Looking at the dress she gave a small nod. What choice did she have? Refuse? She could, but it wasn’t worth the fight. Closing her eyes, Ava inhaled and held it for a moment, before releasing it. She was tired and it didn’t feel like the kind of thing sleeping would fix. Another breach of her life, her things coming to her. On one hand, it made sense. They could make up a convincing lie as to where she’d run off to. On the other, there were people packing away her life and bringing it here. “You really have no boundaries, do you? Or even take a moment to think about what might cross them” It wasn’t even him, it was strangers. Strangers who would see her small little pile of stuffies, pack her underwear, find the journals and pictures Isidore had left. Tears threatened once more and Ava hid her face away from him, struggling for control. His comment about it being generous laughed at, bitterly. It was both true and made her want to hit him. Again, she felt wary… She had no choice. In the end, she really had everything taken from her and dictated back to her. She could feel the burning in her eyes, tears swimming in her eyes. Sniffling she pushed back the wave of loss and anger; fingers dashed at her eyes almost angrily, eyes rising to meet his. “How kind to allow me clothing” There was no doubt of the sarcastic tone, nor of the bitterness in her voice. One victory was enough for the night, more so when it was quite a large one.

“Very well, but I want your word Christian.” When he looked at her she steeled herself. “Your word that you will not try to renege on your end of this. That’s not just the setting me free or the money. It’s the deal itself. The spirit of the deal and, also… no trying to have me killed, or hinting at it to like the candlestick to have it done. If the year is over and I still don’t love you, I am allowed to go. Period.” Not like she could really hold him to any of this, but she had to hope Chrstian was honest when he said he took his word seriously, or what else did she have to hold onto? “Fine” the word was short. Even with him being so generous, for after all, changing his mind and not breaking her, not raping her was generous; it didn’t mean Ava liked any of this any more. “I don’t even know where I am, how would I tell anyone else.” Her lashes all but brushed her cheeks. “Christain? What happens if at the end of the year, if you don’t love me?” What if she fell for him but he didn’t? It led her back to the vicious cycle that this was only because she looked like Isidora.

“I don’t have much choice, so fine. I accept this. I will not try and run or escape or get someone to rescue me. Not like I would want to put anyone else in your tender care or make them into a meal....” His next rule made her sigh softly. There had to be a limit to that sort of thing, and it wasn’t something she’d ruled out completely. It was the one thing she might be able to control. However, she was hopeful that she’d never be driven that far; Ava didn’t have a death wish. Snorting softly she shook her head. “I agree to those two rules.” She had no idea what else he might force her to agree to. “I mean, I don’t have much of a choice. But I am not going to just blankly agree to your terms”

It took a lot of self control to not recoil as he talked of touching her, though the revulsion at him feeding on her couldn’t be hidden from her face or eyes. What else did she expect though? “What choice do I have?” Ava repeated the sentiment, sighing as she looked to the dress. “Either you are honest, or you’re not. I can do very little even if you lie to me.” Her eyes rose to his and she bit the inside of her cheek. Ava didn’t look happy, but more than anything else, Ava looked tired. “Why this dress? What made you pick it for me?” Ava wanted nothing more than to cry, scream and cry… And then pass out from the feelings. She wanted him to leave her alone for the night, seeing as forever wasn’t on the table. Shifting on the bed she slipped off the side further from him. She didn’t want to strip, but much like the last ten or so minutes… What choice did she have? Ava didn’t understand this desire to make her love him. It would be hard enough to do so, for at the moment she did hate him. Christian seemed to not remember what it was to be human. It was more than kidnapping her, more than forcing her to strip. More than telling her would touch her, feed from her. It was small things… He wasn’t sorry for what he had done, or was doing. She didn’t expect him to feel such emotions when he’d been so callous thus far. There were other things though, like asking her what she was in school for. If she’d enjoyed the meal. Did she like the dress? It may have just been the wrong time, not like she would have answered those questions happily.

“If I strip, can I wear the dress tomorrow?” Her hands were in her lap. “I doubt you care, but I just want to shower and sleep.”

 

[Staine]

"Hmm...perhaps it's harder to explain than I thought..." Christian, for his part, didn't seem to get how she couldn't understand his fascination with her appearance, what had drawn him to her, but he had always prided himself on at least being reasonable, he tried to think like others in order to get an advantage in his trade and it did help him here, even if just a little. "It was...a life that could have been, do you understand?" He gestured to the room around them. "This, all of it, I am somewhat content with but it's the product of what Genevieve did to me, what she made me, and what I have done in the centuries since. This wasn't meant to be who I was, I think...I was meant to settle down and live with Isidora, her children were meant to be my children, their children my grandchildren. My legacy...it could have been so very different but for the quarrels of kings for lands which didn't truly matter." There was a slight sadness in his voice, and even he didn't know if he would have traded the life he had led for a shorter one with Isidora, but he suspected that he would have, given the choice back then. "They came for me and I was knocked into a different life, became a different man...no longer the protective wolf, as you said...and when I look at you I see that life I could have had, it floods my mind as though I'd lived it in another world, I can almost see the nights spent holding her, the days spent teaching my trade to our sons or chasing the boys from our daughters." He smiled at her, sadly as he met her eyes with his own. "And of her, you're all that's left. Hah, you could have been my own descendent but for a twist of fate...and I find that I must know you, know the person you are."

Her comment about boundaries was met with a soft chuckle and he could see the tears well up in her eyes. It said something that he felt a small pang of regret at all, not enough that he would release her but seeing her suffer like this wasn't something he had expected to affect him at all, it was partly that, her ability to sway him from choices he had made that he now found so intriguing about her; not in centuries had anybody been able to change his mind once he had firmly set upon a course of action, but she had already talked her way out of her fate. He laughed at her comment, shaking his head at her as a smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Watch your tone, little nightingale...I admit you seem to have a strange effect on me, but I can't promise you're immune to incurring my wrath. If you do wish to provoke me, don't be surprised to find that kindness of allowing you clothing quickly revoked. I assure you it's not for my benefit that I allow you to cover your body...I'm sure you know that." Listening to her accept his terms, he leaned forwards towards her, holding out his hand. "Take it. A shake of the hand is the traditional way to seal a deal, is it not?" He had half a mind to pull her into a kiss the moment she took his hand, but there was plenty of time for that in the future...though a thought did occur to him. As he was about to speak it, she hit him with a question he simply hadn't anticipated and he tilted his head just slightly. "What if I don't love you?" He stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded before chuckling deeply, breaking into an amused grin. "You know I hadn't even thought of that...the concept hadn't crossed my mind. Okay, little nightingale...I really don't know but given what I have seen of you tonight, how you have already swayed my decision more than anybody I have known in centuries I don't think that will be the case. Regardless, you do have my word...I will not try to circumvent our agreement in any way should you stick to the terms."

He looked down towards the dress as she said she accepted his rules, it really was a pretty thing but he had no real reason for choosing it. Somehow, he didn't think that answer would satisfy her. "I'll never lie to you, Ava. You may not believe me, not yet, but even somebody as far removed from humanity as myself, who thinks nothing of kidnapping a girl and removing her from her life on a whim...has his honour. Rules he lives by...and while I can be deceptive with my wording I won't outright lie to you and when I tell you that I will not break my promise, I do mean it. The dress...I thought it would look pretty on you, and I didn't know your size so I had Dante...the candlestick to you, have the wardrobe filled. Now that you're here I can easily see it's a perfect fit." Looking back up into her eyes he had more to say, especially to her request. He was of two minds; Christian could just accept her offer and walk away, he could refuse it though he didn't see any value in that, or he could test her resolve one last time this night. Smiling, he leaned forward towards her, reaching to cup her cheek, expecting her to flinch or shy away from his touch. "Let me wash you, in the shower." He paused, waiting for the fireworks he had come to expect from his little nightingale, ready to weather the storm before he continued. "I'm going to touch you anyway, but I promise you now, let me do this and I will make no advances on you tonight, it will be good for you to get used to me seeing you like that anyway. Give me this and yes, you may indeed wear it tomorrow and sleep in peace after your shower. If you refuse...you may also shower and then sleep. I will even leave before you strip, give you your privacy, however..." He paused again. "As much dislike as you have for me, would it really be so bad to submit to this one request? I will even be willing to grant you a small favour in return, so long as it isn't something too silly. I'm sure you can think of something I could do for you that wouldn't make me balk."

As he spoke his thumb was caressing her cheek and his eyes were on hers, attempting to hold her gaze. He meant what he said and he fully expected her to tell him to go to hell, but it was a gamble he was more than prepared to take. He would see her naked any time he liked, it was no sacrifice to Christian to give her privacy tonight, and if she accepted...well he so very much wanted to have his hands on her, willingly this time, if not reluctantly.