(1408) Sinead and Yekaterina

[Wolven Pryde]

Yikes.

Of all the times Yekaterina wishes she could duck behind a bar, this is one of them.

A memory surfaces, as soon as she is confronted by the gorgeous woman. An old memory.

When she was still the young, dorky little girl with buck teeth, thick glasses, and dull, mousy hair, getting picked on by boys and girls alike, she had a doll. Some sentimental thing, passed down from a couple of preceding generations. And her mother had decided, in her infinite wisdom (cruelty) that the thing should rest on display in Yekarina's bedroom. Facing her from its shelf, and watching her while she slept.

She hated that creepy thing. With its perfectly sculpted face, slightly cracked by age. And its too-large dark and glassy eyes. It always seemed like it was watching her, and that absolutely terrified her.

One night in particular, after it had given her nightmares, she'd slipped across the room in the dark to turn it around and face the other way. And sometime after-- she didn't think she had fallen asleep, but she had to have-- someone came along and righted the thing again. So by her perception, she'd rolled over, and there it was. Staring.

She screamed the whole house awake.

No one had ever admitted to turning it back around. But they had to have. Yekaterina had to have fallen asleep, and someone found the terrible thing and straightened it again so that it was looking at her.

Right?

Right.

That's what she sees when she looks into the perfect eyes of the other woman, and it seems to have a more shaking effect than if the both of them had their Beasts bared.

Yekaterina's greeting smile hangs on her face, like the sunglasses around her forehead.

"Blessed!" She says, automatically. "And well. I hope for you, also?"

She offers her hand, somewhat reluctantly. "Yekaterina Alexandrovna."

Those two words, and only those two words, actually sound Russian. The rest of her English is nearly flawless. You can't really hear an accent unless you're listening for it.

"Lovely, colorful Court, is it not?"

By now, her social instincts have taken control, and she will gravitate the conversation deeper into the room and away from the doors. As casually as their cooperative pace allows.

[Djinn]

So far so good. The woman's expression wasn't unfamiliar to her as she took the other's hand gently and gave a light squeeze. She wasn't much for the long shake and such, the flailing of women wasn't particularly appealing to her, and she released the woman's hand again shortly.

"Miss Alexandrovna," Sinead acknowledged with a smile. "Sinead Lovekin."

Unlike the other, her accent was clearly infiltrating her words, soft though it was. Another foreigner? It made her smile all the more. "The Court is, indeed, very colourful. It's left me quite perplexed, to be truthful," she chuckled a little bit, "but I am well, thus far. May I ask...?" she didn't verbally ask, but she gave a gesture to the woman's attire in askance.

[Wolven Pryde]

"Miss Lovekin," Yekaterina echoes the syntax of the greeting as she echoes the gentle squeeze of the woman's hand. She manages a more playful, natural smile, which still shows just the tips of her two front teeth. She'd grown into them, but just barely.

As they release, the Daeva spares an appraising glance around at Sinead's statement. Then, to her own attire.

"This? This is the X-Men character, Jubilee. A bright-eyed young mutant with a power to manipulate plasma, in a form that erupts looking like fireworks from her fingertips."

Here, she gives a playful wiggle of bare fingers on a gloved hand.

Yekaterina leans in, just slightly, lowering her voice. Not really below conversational level, but in the gesture of imparting some private pleasure. "I do so enjoy American cartoons."

By this, she seems to be expanding the word to several mediums. To Yekaterina, everything from newspaper comics, to graphic novels, to animated films and series all classify under the moniker, cartoons. They had actually been invaluable to her in learning and understanding the language so completely.

Such as in X-Men (even though by then she was already fluent), where almost every onscreen character employed a different dialect. But more than that, the culture of 'American cartoons' were the outcast little girl's only source of companionship, or sense of a wider, more wondrous world.

"There are many here, that I know. A few, that I do not." Her accent only starts to show, in the way that some of her consonants are too sharp, or her R's are too short. All in all, unless you hear her name, most might assume she is of some obscure American tongue.

Growing steadily more, but never completely, comfortable with the Haunt's eerie vibe, Yekaterina's gesture's mildly at Sinead's attire. "Sorry to say that yours seems unfamiliar to me? It is quite beautiful, though..."

Somewhere on the end of that sentence, her pale green eyes catch view of David Regan in a conversation nearby. Gloriously oblivious to his mood and the reason for it, she waves brightly. Her face explodes into a grin that competes with her eyes for facial real estate. It is deliberately done to call attention to the man who is so easily overlooked. Playfully so. She means well, even if her timing is shitty.

Glancing back to Sinead after she gets a chance to note David's reaction, the Daeva offers a small smile of apology. Not intending to derail their conversation at all.

[Djinn]

"X-Men you say...?" she inquired, taking a bit of time and seeming perplexed for a moment. A mutant? "... is this a hero?" She had no frame of reference for this particular thing. From a cartoon? Cartoons were the essence of heroes in this day and age, were they? Or was it just a local thing? "I fear that you are likely much more well-versed in the notion of this evening's events than I," Sinead chuckled after a moment, looking at her own attire wistfully.

She'd definitely missed the beat, perhaps taken the situation more seriously than intended. "I had understood the theme to be one of heroes and villains and duality. I chose Lady Étaíne, of Tochmarc Étaíne, which inspired Shakespeare's Othello..." the woman had provided a little information about the person she had portrayed, so... it seemed only fair.

"The story is of a woman who was chosen to be the bride of a King. Yet the King's brother Ailill also falls for her, and wastes away with unrequited love. The King then asked his wife to care for his brother while he was away, and his brother informed Étaíne of the cause of his illness, and said that with a word she could remedy his situation.

"Knowing of the love her husband had for his brother, and with the hope that it would, indeed, cure him of his seemingly fatal state, she says the words meant to make him better..." Sinead paused, then shook her head. "Ah, sorry, it's a long tale and I got carried away. The important part is that she is a woman who was dragged about regardless of her own will for the purposes of love and desire. A King declared war on a Fae to have her returned."

Looking a little bit abashed as she realized that she had definitely gotten caught up in her story-telling, she offered the other an apologetic smile of her own. "I'm not familiar with any of those here, currently, I'm afraid. You must be very well-versed, Miss Alexandrovna." The woman's waving she had taken as being distracted from the lengthy story she'd been told, leaving her to feel all the more awkward at the notion that she had rather... rambled. Oh well.

[Wolven Pryde]

Well, Yekaterina's intentions regarding @David Regan seem to have failed for now. She'd been trying to draw undue attention to the shy man which so many easily overlook. Or, perhaps to embarrass him into further open salutations. Neither really occurred. But: She tried!

Maybe such public shenanigans require a more commanding power of personality than her own.

Heoriuhjsldfonvspoiugh!

/angry internal rant.

The Daeva nods a knowing nod as Sinead elaborates on her own costume. Familiar with Othello more than the legend behind it, but still. "I think it's a lovely choice!"

As if in defense of the unspoken assumption that she'd missed the mark, Yekaterina says in her defense, "Legends of Kings and heroes, Gods and demigods, are possibly the direct origin of this part of culture, I'd imagine. Why, that over there," she gestures lightly to Gunnar's hilarious, half-assed attempt at a costume, "is Thor Odinson himself."

Or at least, it's supposed to be.

Adressing the question of X-Men, and Jubilee's heroism, the Russian Daeva smiles puckishly. "As for this one in particular," her hands faintly flourishing the hem of the yellow jacket, "mutants in the Marvel world offer an excellent perspective on the subject of duality. The synopsis is that: sudden jumps in humanity's next evolutionary step, mutations, begin to produce men and women with fantastic powers. Naturally, normal folk are jealous and afraid of these developments, and many stories center around the growing difficulties and often tumultuous relationship between humankind and mutantkind.

"It is meant to appeal the part of us all that has been persecuted at one time or another for being different. Whether it's been gender, sexuality, religion, ethnicity, nationality... it puts such notions on a fantasy scale to examine the absurdity of such hate."

And perhaps also to sell a comfort product to children who are picked on by their peers. Capitalism, ho.

"Jubilee tries to be a hero," she attempts to summarize, finally.

[Djinn]

Sinead followed Yekaterina's gesture to look at Gunnar, smiling a little to herself. The Rex had chosen such an attire, had he? That... was rather humorous, truth be told. "I see," she responded absently, looking thoughtful at the woman's explanation.

"The kine suggest often in writing this general idea that they do not appreciate change and do not take well to it," she mused, "and yet they change so swiftly themselves. Ever so swiftly. Much faster than our kind. In a blink they have changed everything they do... their systems, their beliefs... religion changes overnight and technology changes daily. I wonder if the kine themselves realize precisely how much they misunderstand themselves..."

Evolution... mutations... fantastic powers... 'normal' folk. What made one person more normal than another? But Yekaterina was right about one thing: a part of everyone had been persecuted at one time or another... How bizarre. Her expression was gentle as she looked to Yekaterina again, smiling. "The moment one tries to be a hero, they've already become a hero. The moment people step out of what is comfortable for them in hopes of doing better for the whole, they have already become a hero. So I do not think that she merely tries to be a hero..."

[Wolven Pryde]

In a very mild, restrained sort of excitement, Yekaterina latches on to Sinead's words. And naught but a second after they leave her mouth.

"And once one comes to believe themselves a hero, they've probably become a villain!"

One hand flips, casually dismissive of her own stance. Not that she is literally just blurting things that she doesn't believe, but the gesture is meant to assure that her words are not argumentative, or any sort of counter or rebuttal. But merely: good humored banter.

"At least to someone. Few villains cackle maniacally at their own wickedness for sadism's sake. One man's arch enemy is another's faithful companion. Such is the duality of the situation. Much like how, to kine, we are all evil. As is the fox to the hare. The Bear to the salmon.

"I think in the most interesting and relatable stories, it's all a matter of perspective."

Here is where she might launch into an analogy of Magneto and the Brotherhood of Mutants, when some commotion starts to stir Court. The Russian Daeva can't help but stop to watch. Her thoughts and observations on how humanity's changes are short term at the very best, with a nature that only reiterates itself, is momentarily forgotten.

"This is all very interesting!" she comments innocently to Sinead, once the Harpy is stalking away from the theatre's Keeper, and the poor blindfolded girl has blundered right into the nest of Invictus surrounding the Reeve and his current object of attention.

I could barely tolerate showing that much ass for a handful of Daeva! How Cohen is doing it in front of the entire Domain with the sheriff right beside her---!

The thought can't even fully form in her mind.

[Djinn]

Any words that Sinead might have responded with were lost to her as she stared absently at the scene... scenes... events occurring around them. "... are these gatherings ever simply quiet, polite events?" she inquired quietly of the other woman, finding herself wanting to edge away again to a darker corner of the room.

"Last time a kindred met his end... this time... all of this kerfuffle," she sighed, resting a hand on her cheek in dismay. "Truly, it is this kind of thing that makes one not want to put their neck out to meet other individuals. Perhaps I will not attend the next gathering," she mused absently, before turning to look at Yekaterina again and smiling.

"I do not recall who told it to me, but I believe a statement was once made that one either dies a hero, or lives to see themselves become a villain. But nothing is ever so black and white as that, life is full of shades of grey."

[Wolven Pryde]

Sorry sorry sorry for the delay, @Djinn !

"Kerfuffle" Yekaterina repeats with quiet delight. Her hands settle into a gentle, almost inaudible clap, and rest before her as she continues to watch the scene.

Yes. That seems to be an accurate word.

She only blinks, as the blindfolded woman crashes into yet another Kindred. It really seems quite a wonderful way to make a memorable impression, that is not necessarily a bad one.

That is, if making a memorable impression is really your kind of thing.

"Kindred are quite volatile by nature, overall," she comments. There is always someone getting rubbed the wrong way in Court. And the aggressor is not always plainly obvious, either. "'Shades of Grey'. Duality.

"Anytime there are a number of us gathered, someone will attempt to subvert the peace that those few strive to maintain. I wonder if some simply do it for attention."

That is, if getting attention is really your kind of thing.

[Djinn]

"That does seem..." her words trailed off as the Prince spoke, and if her face could have paled any further it would have. Her expression became tense as she gently touched Yekaterina's shoulder.

"... I'm terribly sorry for my manners, but... Please, please excuse me."

The Rex? A Diablerist? Her gaze swept to Chris Wooding first in a moment of horror, wide eyes then turning to Dirge at her outburst before she turned and swept away from the lovely creature, making her way to Notaku with a firm look. Don't interfere, Valkyrja... She was worried that the youth might make a hasty move on behalf of the Rex... but he was young. Don't get yourself killed.

Sinead exits the thread in a hurry.