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Starved - Rook x Venuris (WTHHero/Degusaurusrex)

At first all he heard was frustrated noises from her direction, and he was close to rolling his eyes in response wondering just what he had done to displease her now. Then, he looked up and watch her fumble with the chopsticks badly. He raised both his eyebrows and bit on his bottom lip hard.

"They do not stab well?" He repeated. Then laughed, hard. Rook put his bowl down and kept laughing wiping tears from his eyes he was laughing so hard. He slowed down and then repeated the phrase again. "They do not stab well?!" He chuckled some more.

He got up, slowly, and then walked over to the couch and sat down next to her. "I'm going to ask that you don't freak out," he said easily. He grabbed her hand and moved her fingers positioning the chopsticks correctly. He adjusted them and then used his fingers to move hers in order to show her how it worked. "You sort of need to pinch the food between the sticks."

He got up to move back to his place on the floor. Being that close to her for a moment made his heartbeat rapidly. He told himself it was her demonic nature that caused it, not, whatever it was that Yida had talked about earlier.

"It's an Asian style dish and you should learn to eat it the way that's proper."
 
"Why do you taunt me?!" Venuris snapped at him as she watched him burst into laughter until he had to wipe away tears. Was her lack of knowledge so funny to him that he had to openly mock her like that? She had half a mind to break the damn sticks and throw them when he approached her, and she watched him warily as he not only sat beside her, but put his hand on hers.

It took everything she had left in her not to smack him away or snap at him with her teeth. The only reason she was tolerating the touch was because she was so hungry. It didn't matter that his hand was warm on hers, or that it was one of the first innocent touches she'd had in ages.

"That seems a strange way to eat food." She shook her head but awkwardly maneuvered the chopsticks, stuffing a strip of steak into her mouth and chewing slowly to savor the taste. He had put a lot of different ingredients into the dish that she wasn't familiar with, and every time she took a bite with something new in it her expression changed a bit.

When she'd eaten all that her stomach could handle for the moment, she set the bowl carefully on the table and curled up in her spot, tucking her legs under her and propping herself up to watch Rook silently.
 
"Oh relax, it was cute," Rook said to the taunting comment.

He took a few moment every once and awhile to glance up at Venuris as she ate. He could tell that she was enjoying the good. Her expression changes subtly as she tried each bite. He tilted his head as he watches her, toying with the chopsticks in his fingers, his mind drifting.

Are you interested?

He looked away when it seemed that she was done eating. Rook set himself to finishing his food carefully leaving his mind blank. At least he told himself he was doing that, but, instead he was thinking about how soft her hand had been in his and the way her expression softened for just a moment when he was showing her how to use the chopsticks.

"You're staring again," he said, casually as he finished what was left in his bowl and then set it down to drink some water.
 
"This way I can see what you're doing." She made no immediate effort to look away as he drank his water, only shifted slightly on the couch and shrugged. Of course she was going to watch him when he was in the same room with her, what else would she do? It was different when he was in one of the other rooms, all she had to do was listen for his footsteps to signal he was coming back into the room she was in.

"You don't like being stared at?" Normal people probably disliked it, didn't they? The old man had always laughed at her when she stared, and had stared back in such a way that she eventually become uncomfortable and would look away. Rook didn't look at her like that, he looked at her in such strange ways she had no idea how to read them.
 
He finished drinking his water and then set it back on the coffee table. He looked at her, making eye contact for a brief moment and asked "Do you like being stared at?"

He stood and stretched his arms in front of his chest and picked up his bowl and chopsticks. "I'll leave yours on the coffee table. I'd suggest you try eating a bit more in as you get more comfortable. You need to retrain your body to accept more food, probably."

He stopped for a moment on the way to the kitchen. The advise he had given her had been advise directed to a fellow human. Not to a demon from another realm. He honestly had no idea what her body might require or how it would react to food as opposed to blood. Rook was begining to forget in a way that she was a demon. "Huh," he said quietly to himself.

He went into the kitchen and began to clean the dishes.
 
She did not like the way that he redirected by flipping the question on her. What she liked was irrelevant in the situation, and she huffed irritably as he left the room. He was probably right about trying to eat more, but her stomach had no intention of letting her do that now, so the bowl stayed on the table as she rubbed at her eyes. Maybe she could close them for just a few minutes while he was doing the dishes, she could already hear the water running in there, and he hadn't given her specific instructions to do anything else.

It almost sounded like he'd been talking to himself for a moment, and she tried to listen past the sound of the water for anything else. When she heard nothing but the sound of the water running and the movements of the dishes that he was cleaning she closed her eyes, propping her head in her hand and letting the repetitive sounds lull her into a sort of restful trance.
 
The dishes didn't take too long to finish and Rook was busy pondering his feelings--

The dishes didn't take too long to finish and Rook was busy pondering his thoughts regarding Venuris. He had to admit to himself on some level he was growing accustomed to having her around and it had only been a day. Of course, the way the binding worked it wasn't like going on dates to--

...the way the binding worked they were going to be around each other a lot. Obviously, that meant getting to know each other. There was nothing wrong with familiarity. He shrugged to himself and then walked back into the living room finding Venuris apparently asleep. Wordlessly, he grabbed the blanket and put it over her, careful not to touch her, but made sure she was covered well enough and then he went into the bathroom to start a bath.
 
She stirred slightly when the blanket made contact with her skin, but neither that nor the sound of the water running in the bathroom seemed to wake her. Even the couch was more comfortable than where she had been sleeping for so long, and even sitting up didn't deter her body from the little catnap it seemed intent on taking.

When she did finally stir it was to slide down and lay properly on the couch, one eye opening to look around the room before she realized it was eerily silent. Where had Rook gone? The sound of the water rippling in the bathroom gave her some indication of where he was, and after listening for another moment she could determine it sounded like he was taking a bath. Was this a house where baths were superior to showers, or something?

She closed her eye again and got comfortable, listening to the distant sound of the water moving as he bathed, the sound of the appliances humming from the kitchen. All of them were better alternatives than the endless questions running through her mind, wild and free as they threatened to destroy the system she had known for so long.
 
The soak was good for Rook. He's always preferred a bath to a shower. He remembered being younger and looking for alternative methods of magic. Something different than the way his grandfather cast and it was often suggested that water was associated with healing. He wasn't sure how true it was, though even hermetic magic suggested there was a association.

He stood, letting the water drain, and looked down at the bundle of his clothes. He'd gone awhile without changing. He grabbed it all and put it under his arm and grabbed a towel, drying off. He looked at the door and frowned. He was used to living alone. He sighed, and wrapped the towel around his waist, and held the bundle of clothing in the crook of his arm.

Rook stepped out not expecting Venuris to be sitting up and he raised his eyebrows. He was actually somewhat shy, but there was a reason for that. Across his olive skin which might have looked rich if unblemished were a thousand intricate scars and lines drawn into him. Some of them were part of arcane markings and sigils. Some large welted scars across his back and parts of his shoulders and chest. They even seemed to reach to his ankles and legs. All part of his grandfather's efforts to awaken Rook's power.

He stared at Venuris and put the bundle of clothes he held self-consciously over his chest and abdomen. "Uh. My clean clothes are upstairs," he said, and before he could witness any reaction and quickly went up the stairs.
 
Well, that was unexpected. Venuris had sat up again when she heard the bathroom door open, intent on making sure she wasn't caught sleeping again when Rook came out. While she might have expected him to be clad in a towel, although really she'd expected him to be clothed, nothing had prepared her for the sight of his flesh.

Was that what the old man had been doing to him? She had many of her own scars that she'd accumulated over the years, some easily visible, and others not so much due to the coloration of her skin, but her entire body wasn't covered like his seemed to be. They looked like magical markings combined with wounds, and when he bolted up the stairs she caught sight of the welts across his back. Just what the fuck had the old man been doing to his own family?

She sat there in silence while he dressed, contemplating if she should say anything when he returned. Would he be angry if she mentioned them? Upset? Would he confine her to a room so he didn't have to hear such questions, or simply ignore her for the remainder of the day? Or would he speak about the stories of his tortures and remind her of her own?

When he finally came back down she abruptly looked away, hands in her lap as she fidgeted with the blanket he'd covered her with. A part of her was absolutely brimming with curiosity and wanted to know, but the other part was afraid of his reaction should she ask.
 
Rook's heart pounded upstairs. He had wished she would have been asleep. He'd have to be more prepared in the future. His mind reeled playing a series of memories out for him. Various lies and avoidances of answers he'd given on the rare occasions he felt safe enough with someone to disrobe. Even those relationships fizzled out eventually. How could he even begin to explain it to anyone? And no one would ever truly leave it alone. How could they not want answers from him?

Dressed in a full sweater, sleeves down to his wrists, high collared, pants, socks, darker colors, Rook came back the stairs almost all of his skin covered save for that of his face and hands. There was an urge he had to put gloves on as well. An idiosyncratic habit that he had corrected with therapy. Why was it coming back full force now?

She knows. What you've been through. She can guess well enough.

"The pages," Rook said, stepping to the corkboard body posture rigid and strained, "are the lower level members of the order," he said sweeping his finger across the bottom five pictures. "Above them, the princes," and then he tapped the circle with the word written Me(?) and said "And the King. Of course, I have no intention of truly furthering their goals, but I will pretend for awhile to go along with accepting my inheritance in order to get more information. They're still keeping things from me. I'm sure that I'll find out more soon as I meet with them. What better way to take them down then from the inside? Eventually, I'll have to make my move of course, and I won't allow myself to be corrupted."

It seemed this was easier for Rook to talk about than making any reference to what Venuris had recently seen. He couldn't bring himself to look at her.
 
"Princes?" She abandoned both the blanket and the couch to venture over to the corkboard, taking his attire as a sign that he didn't want to talk about what she'd just seen. That was fine with her, that didn't seem like a conversation either of them wanted to have that moment, and there were more important things to handle.

"They know you have me." That was a concern. The old man had only relinquished his belongings to Rook on the condition that he take her, although she wasn't sure what the conditions of 'keeping' her entailed, and if he intended to follow any of those.

"Does that mean they'll want to see me to make sure you're continuing your grandfather's work?" He hadn't shown any interest in doing any of that to her yet, and even if she chose to believe that he had no intention of it, that didn't answer the question about whether or not the rest of the order would want to see what he was up to with her in his possession.
 
"Yes," he said, carefully avoiding looking directly at her. He folded up and put away the part of himself that was vulnerable. It could sit in the back of his mind and rot. He was not weak. "Princes, they're key figures and each of there powerful in their own right. The things I can do with magic pales in comparison," Alec Michaud especially still brought a cold shiver to his spine that Rook hoped wasn't noticeable. "but we're starting with one of the pages," he moved his hand down and tapped Velma's picture again, "what I've discovered about Velma suggests that while she's a page in the order, I don't think she holds any real power, outside of economics, but she has access to information. It's likely that we can take her out before anyone knows what we're doing."

He nodded at her. "They do know I have you, and I have a feeling that the princes at the very least are aware of your existence. I cannot for the life of me figure out why your a key to this whole thing, but you are. The old man had some plot in mind. Some of it is in his journal, but a lot of it is hidden beneath a cypher I can't decode, another fucking game he's decided to play with me even in death."

"I don't know," Rook said, and only then did he glance at Venuris. He smiled softly, some of the tension going out of his body, but it fixed itself back in place, quickly. "Whatever the case, I'm determined to stop them and I'll die before anymore harm comes to you."

He shrugged and walked back to the couch taking a seat.
 
"Then it will be satisfying draining the blood from their bodies and tasting the magic." She'd had a literal taste of Rook's blood and magic, and if these people were even more powerful than him.. Well, she could only imagine what they would taste like. She could make them bleed and watch as the life faded from their eyes and then--

"I don't see how I'm a key to anything. I'm just a demon, I'm not important." She was tired of being a pawn for everyone else, and when he smiled she looked taken aback for a second. Why was he smiling at a time like this? And what had he just promised her? Well, he hadn't technically promised her, but it was a hell of a thing to say that he wouldn't allow any harm to come to her.

"No harm?" She narrowed her eyes at him, glancing back at the corkboard and then moving around the room inspecting the various things he'd spread out during his studying. "You cannot say that for sure, do not make promises you may not be able to keep."
 
"If I can prevent that, I will. It will be over my dead body. I can't think of any creature who's been harmed more than you by him." Rook reached out his right hand reflexively and held his left to his side.

Rook's mother was likely also a candidate for a lot of harm, but he hoped at least her torture and death had been quick. He rubbed at his upper arm, feeling the knotted flesh. "I may not be able to keep it, but I can make every effort I have towards keeping it."

He watched her moving from book to book. One of the tables had the blue prints for what looked like a manor house of some kind. On the blueprints were markings in red pen. Two red dots were outlined in front of the doors of the manor and Rook's scrawling handwriting noted: shift change? 11:15 PM, 4 guards? 3:45 AM, 2 guards? Time frame? Less then two minutes to switch. The rest of the blueprints had similar notes in other locations.

If Venuris was able to read some of how human magic worked two spells seemed to be the source of study at the moment. A spell for holding someone in place with 'darkness' and one in particular that seemed to be for forcing a person to tell the truth, though it could not make them talk.
 
Well, at least he'd stopped himself from saying the old man's name this time, and the look of relief on her face was obvious. She did notice how he moved to cradle his hand to his side but refrained from saying anything and instead nodded her head in acknowledgment. He was saying some very important things, and the last thing she wanted to do was blow them off and make him regret saying them in the first place.

"I can only read some of this. I understand and speak the language much better than I can read it." She frowned, running her finger over some of the pages and trying to make out his handwriting so she could at least try to understand the English.

"Spells?" That's what they looked like, anyway, but she couldn't be sure without having a better grasp on the written language. "Where are you even pulling your magic from?"
 
Rook's eyes widened as he looked at Venuris the color draining from his face. There was a sudden flash of anger that rushed through his whole body and words started to collect in his mouth like old memories and daggers. I don't have to tell you anything! Why are you asking so many questions? Get out! Get your things and get out! His pulse was running high. His eyes almost seemed to grow brighter with some kind of intensity. He stood, took half a step, and then stopped moving looking at her. Where was he going to go? Where was she going to go?

He swallowed and stepped away from her. His body felt tense. Every muscle coiled and he could feel just the edges of a cold sweat beginning at his hair line. He walked towards the glass doors that looked out at the yard. Was there any avoiding this? Why was he even considering explaining?!

Are you interested?
She knows.

Breath left Rook's body in a heavy deep sound that started somewhere in his gut. He didn't look at her but looked out the window instead. "The old man," he began to speak in a quiet voice, "told me that his power came from pleasure and fear. His pleasure. The fear of others," Rook felt himself getting smaller and more distant as he continued to explain, now that the words were coming out, at least some of them, it didn't seem like they were going to stop, "There were efforts made, when I was young, to teach me to gain power like this..."

His voice got farther away as he continued. "The old man was disappointed that I could not generate power this way. He said that my mother had tainted my genes and so I was broken and useless. I was relieved, at first."

Rook held his left arm tightly to his side with his right. "He found a way. He discovered that I could draw power from pain and fear." Rook reached up and touched something on the back of his neck just below the neckline on his spine. "One of the sigils on my body was done with a ritual so that I can't forget. If an event was painful enough, I will feel it like it happened yesterday. Another stores the energy when it's not being used for magic like a battery. As far as I can tell, all the symbols and components and what have you, it's all just a way to focus the mind and emotions; emotions being the key factor, in human magic."
 
Why was he looking at her like that? Venuris could hear the way that his heartbeat sped up, see what almost looked like panic in his eyes as he put some additional distance between them. It was enough to put her on edge as she watched him warily, looking for any signs that could mean he meant to harm her.

When he moved to the glass doors she tensed up, edging a bit away from him as she considered her different options. None of them included leaving the house as she looked now, that opportunity was long gone, and their bond was ensure she was unable to venture far even if she dared try.

Was he telling her the old man had tried to force him to assault others, just to strengthen his own power? She wasn't sure if she was more concerned by that, or by the fact that Rook had just said his own power grew from pain and fear. How could he expect her to believe she would come to no harm when that was exactly what was needed for his magic? That didn't seem reasonable, and she eyed him from across the room before finally speaking again.

"You feed off my fear." Well, that explained why he'd been so quick to notice her anxiety over entering the first store. When had human magic gotten so dark? "You won't feed off of my pain, so you'd best find someone else."
 
Rook looked back over his shoulder at her and widened his eyes. "What?!" He asked, incredulously. He laughed and it was a bitter noise. He looked down at his feet and smiled softly to himself. Then looked back across the room at her. "You don't get it. I don't feed off of the pain of others or the fear of others," his face hardened somewhat as he walked from her view and into the kitchen, suddenly even more irritated with her than he had been at any other point.

He poured himself a glass of water and set the glass down on the counter-top with a thud. "You're so determined to think that all humans are as evil, that you can't see what's right in front of your eyes," Rook said, and drank some of the water. The coolness of it brought his temperature down and he looked down at the floor.

"I can't feed off others at all, at least, not as far as I'm aware. The pain and fear that fuels my magic is my pain and my fear," He pulled down the side of his sweater over his shoulder revealing one of the long thick welts that danced across his skin. "What do you think this is about?! I remember exactly how it felt when he lashed me, the sharp sting of it, any moment I let my mind drift to it." He pulled his sweater back up and pulled his left arm to his side before he set to drink the rest of the cool water.

"The other members of the order can feed off the emotions of others. My mom, she once told me, that there was another way, she didn't really know about what my family's dealing were, but she began to suspect near the end--" He shook his head and opened the fridge back up and poured more water, "other magicians don't need a sigil like this, to contain magic, carved into their flesh. There's plenty of energy in others."

He drank the rest of the water and moved to walk upstairs. "I'm going upstairs. Do whatever you want. Just leave me alone. I'm tired of your judgements and I can't imagine why I suspected you'd be different. We'll talk later."
 
He'd completely misunderstood what she'd meant. She knew he wasn't going to feed off of hers, he'd made that plenty clear. All she had been stating was the fact that since he refused to hurt her, he needed to draw the pain from someone else. The first thought would be the members of the Order that he wanted to destroy, but it was difficult to do that without gathering magic in the first place.

"That's not what I said." Her voice was so small when she finally managed to speak, and she jumped as the glass thudded on the counter, a sound that sent her skittering from the area between rooms back toward the glass doors he'd previously stood by.

"Then you're just as much a fool as the rest of your kind!" She snapped at him, her ears laid back against her head and her tail snapping around behind her back. It didn't matter that he was all the way across the room from her, the tone of his voice and his words made her feel very much like a corner animal, and she bared her fangs at him before turning away to look out the doors.

"Go, then, before something else is taken the wrong way and one of us ends up bleeding."
 
Rook didn't come downstairs except for one other time that day. When he did, his face was a perfect stoic mask not revealing any emotion or concern and he didn't look at Venuris. He went to the kitchen and prepared blood, warming it, and set it down on the coffee table without a glance. He poured himself some water and grabbed a few books before going back upstairs.

His body was positively tingling with magic. The fear from the vulnerability he expressed and the pain from what he misunderstood as rejection was fresh and filling up his internal batteries of magical energy. He set to work adjusting the specifications of a ritual and was up most of the night studying and working through spells.

The next morning when he came downstairs he was dressed in another full sweater, underneath was a long tight t-shirt and the neck line was quite high, hugging his throat, he was dressed in black pants and dress shoes and on his hands were thin black gloves. He walked into the kitchen and began to make blood and coffee. He brought the tub of blood to her and set it on the coffee table and spoke, "I've extended the range of the binding. It was difficult work," his eyes had familiar, now, purple bags under them, "I have a meeting to attend. You'll need something to do," he grabbed the remote from the coffee table and quickly showed her how to use it, "humans often pass their time watching television. Think of them like, plays, on demand, I guess."
 
He truly was going to ignore her for the remainder of the day, wasn't he? A part of her was glad for the peace and quiet without worry over what the future held, but the other hand was unused to the silence being something positive and spent the entire day gnawing at her mind over it. Even his brief trip down to warm her up blood was done in silence, and she watched him disappeared back up the stairs for the remainder of the night.

That left her confined to sleeping on the couch, and even then she was graced with only a small amount of sleep. Between the noise of listening to him work upstairs, and the fact that she was so uneasy about being ignored and having freedom simultaneously, Venuris was just as exhausted as he was come the morning. Her body had long since gone into overdrive from the abrupt change in lifestyle, and she barely looked up when he came out with the morning tub of blood.

"I'm not human, remember?" She shifted and turned away from him on the couch, ignoring both the blood and the remote in favor of bundling up in the blanket. "I'm no different from the rest of my kind, remember?" They never had gotten to talking later, since he'd spent the entirety of the evening and night upstairs, and it had left her feeling all out of sorts not knowing where either of them stood.

"I won't destroy your house, go to your meeting."
 
"No, you're not, but I don't know anything about your kind. When I said I thought you might be different, I meant different from anyone else I've ever tried to share my past with," Rook said, and flexed his fingers in his gloves hands. He went back to the kitchen and poured himself some coffee drinking it slowly. His mind was racing. Today he would learn more about what the order had in store for him.

They had suggested he bring Venuris so they could see how a mortal managed to keep a demon under control which made Rook feel worse. He opted not to do so, but, he couldn't ignore their requests forever and when it became clear that he had no intention of falling in line life could get very different. He'd have to make sure the accounts were in his name.

"If you're worried about me judging you based on your kind maybe you should start with not judging me based on my origins." He sipped his coffee, and deciding it was cool enough, drank it down. He moved to the foyer and put his coat on over his sweater and looked at her. "So far, you don't seem to fit much of the stereotypes about what humans think of demons and you seem just as human to me as anyone else."

"I'll be back late," he said, opened the door and left.
 
"Fuck off, you're the one that misunderstood me and spent the day ignoring me!" She snapped at him as he went off the door, growling loudly and huffing as he left. He was going to be back late? Was he spending the entire day at one meeting, was that what he was trying to say? An entire day spent alone in a house was going to drive her absolutely insane. She had no way of know when he would return, what he might return with, and the uncertainty was going to kill her.

The blood on the table held little appeal to her now that it had begun to cool down, and she stared at it with disgust before forcing herself to drink and then take it into the kitchen. Maybe he wouldn't actually be gone all day, and she wouldn't have to wait for food that long. It wasn't as if she had ever learned how to use technology like stoves, ovens, or microwaves, and she found herself looking around the kitchen curiously for the next while. Maybe if she inspected things carefully enough, long enough, she would discover the secret to using them before Rook returned.
 
The drive to the manor was a long one. Rook spent a portion of it silently berrating himself over and over and over. A practice he had grown accustomed to over time. Idiot, he thought, no one is ever going to connect with you. What, you thought because she's literally out of this world, she'd want to connect with you? Do what you like, you're still really just grandpa's broken toy. There's only one thing left for you in this miserable life.

He could his skin tingling with more power as his thoughts seemed to whirlpool into an abyss.

The meetings and introductions we're uninteresting aside from the fact that Rook got to meet people face to face. He kept his face a perfect mask through these encounters. He signed paperwork and the accounts were put into his name.

It was the council meeting that fixed in his mind. He found himself standing in an audience chamber. The five pages of the order surrounded him and in a circle outside of the first, the three princes. His nerves were on end. He couldn't rightly tell who was speaking and who was not.

"Are you prepared to serve the purposes of the Order of the Yellow Rose?" A voice asked.
"Yes," Rook lied.
"Are you aware of what these purposes are?"
"Control? I imagine it's to amass as much power as possible..."
"How simple minded," a woman's voice.
"He's lying," another voice.
"Could just be fear," a third.
"Can we stop with the games?" Rook asked.
"The Order of the Yellow Rose is concerned with more than power. Are you aware the demon realm and the human realm were once one and the same?"

Rook was not and he felt a flash of panic as he stood heart crashing against his ribs. He remained silent and somehow managed to control any fear response though his body tingled with energy.

"The realms were separated. Some say by divine intervention. After the union of man and demon created entities too powerful. This the gods feared."

Rook swallowed. He stood and wondered if that's what his grandfather was trying to accomplish. Obviously, it hadn't worked. Had it?

"Why are you telling me this?" Rook asked.
"He's not ready," a woman's voice.
"How are you getting along with the subject?" A man's voice.

"Fine," Rook said carefully.

After this, Rook was unable to get more information, but his mind was spinning out of control on his way back home. So, that's what his grandfather was up to?

He returned home late in the night, shaken, and walked into the living room.
 
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