Violet was sitting on her bed, reading, in the dorm room she shared with (officially) Alec and (unofficially) Wick. At the moment, Alec was out, and Wick was... where was that faery kid, anyway? Violet gave a quick glance around the room, trying to pin down her other roommate's whereabouts.

Ah. There he was. Sleeping on top of a stack of books, and he hadn't even bothered to put on his cloaking spell. He was a seven-inch tall faery boy, who looked to be about fifteen, maybe younger. His tangled ginger hair was sleep-tousled, falling all over the place. He had a childlike body that was dressed in what looked like rejects from a thrift store. His earrings matched the 'I went swimming in a garbage can' look - they were made of tin pop-can tabs, and did a wonderful job of accenting his pointed ears (and the nubby horns poking up behind them, just inches behind his temples).
Funny that he's been sleeping so much lately. Violet thought, toying with the pages of the book she held in front of her. She sighed and put down the book so that she could adjust her sweater. It hung loosely about her, swimming on her wiry figure. She had on her everyday, hanging-out clothes - the sweater, jeans, a pair of ankle socks. Her brown hair was tied up in a ponytail to keep it off her face (except the purple streak - she'd left that out of it). Along one side of her face was a thin white piece of surgical tape, covering a long cut. She ran her finger absently over it, gazing into space.

'S almost too quiet here today...

It wasn't that hard to find out which room belonged to a Violet. It's not exactly a common name, and Taryn had been curious to meet this other girl who apparently knew about magic. It was all very well to talk to Jay, but he was magic, he couldn't help knowing about it... Taryn rather wondered if Violet had had as jarring an entry into the world of the... what was that word Jay used? Innish, wasn't it?

So... here she was. It was a little odd, knocking on the door of a complete stranger, but if this Violet was a different one than the one Wick had mentioned, she could always claim that she'd gone to the wrong room...

She was about as normal as Violet, dressed in her favorite jeans--which she'd customized with beads spelling out her initials on the back pocket--and a zip-up sweatshirt over a light blue tank top. Her hair was down, for once, and it kept getting in her face...

Knock, knock...

She looked up sharply. Spoke too soon, she thought, getting up. Wick, woken by the knocking, blinked blearily up at Violet. "Jus' a second, I'll hide," he mumbled, quickly weaving a spell over himself. She shook her head, smirking, and turned the doorknob. The hinges squeaked a little as she opened the door.

"Hi..." Violet smiled faintly, a bit surprised to see this unfamiliar girl. "I... um, if you're looking for my roommate, he's not here right now. He'll be back later."

"Actually... I was kinda looking for you. If you're the same Violet that Wick mentioned."

Whee, let's bluff our way through the first moment or two of awkwardness, shall we? It's always more convenient that way, and it saves time.

"I suppose I might have the wrong room, though."

Considering that she didn't even know this Violet's last name, as Wick had only mentioned the name and that she also went to Keaton...

Violet's dark eyes widened at the mention of the young faery. "No, it's..., yeah, I'm the Violet you're looking for, I guess. Wick,... he hasn't mentioned you - mind if I ask who you are?" she smiled apologetically, and moved out of the way to invite Taryn inside. Once she had closed the door, she went over to the stack of books and felt around till her fingers came upon the invisible form of the dozing faery. "Wake up, Wick. Now."

She glanced at Taryn over her shoulder, as Wick became visible. "What'd he do this time?" Violet asked Taryn, sighing. To her mind there was only one reason someone could come looking for her and Wick, and it would more likely than not have something to do with some trouble Wick had gotten himself into.

"I'm Taryn Ellison--Wick got himself into trouble with a flock of crows and I patched him up. He thought I was you--guess that's why he did the un-invisible thing." She shrugged.

"Actually, I'm more wanting to talk to you... I kinda don't know a lot of people who know about magic and stuff. Just Jay, and he's different. He's always known about magic--I got slapped in the face with it."

She smiled and perched on the end of Violet's bed. Taryn has that interesting ability to feel at home just about anywhere--as long as there aren't too many strange guys or just plain too many people, that is.

"Crows? I hadn't heard that story..." Violet sat back on her heels. Wick squirmed uncomfortably. She was giving him her 'You're going to tell me all about that later' look from the corner of her eye. That probably has something to do with all the hanging around he's been doing... I didn't even know he'd gotten hurt.

"I only found out about magic recently. Well, not so recently," Violet said, frowning, "I've known about it for awhile now, I just didn't accept it until I found out that Wick wasn't a hallucination... It's scary to think it's been around us all the time and we never noticed. How did you find out?"

"Um. I kinda... met a god." Which was freaky scary, and she doesn't really like talking about it. This is rather obvious in that her voice just went curiously flat, no emotion whatever.

She did the same... 'trick' for Wick the other day.

She's really going to have to come up with some other story about how she learned magic was real, so that she doesn't have to deal with this every time she meets someone new who knows about magic...

"A... god," Violet's blinked a few times, looking a tad puzzled. "That's... geez, it didn't occur to me that they existed. I guess it should have. Since I now believe in just about everything else. Demons, faeries, unicorns, vampires..."

She laughed. It was a strained sound. Gods... Well, that was new.

"I guess that's not a nice way to find out," she grimaced. "Probably a heck of a lot more frightening than finding a wingless faery in someone's lost purse."

"It wasn't a purse, it was some kid's lunchbox," Wick grumbled irritably.

Taryn chuckled. "Lunch box? Yeesh, Wick, do you go around trying to get yourself into the most trouble you can possibly manage in the least amount of time? I bet you haven't even done anything about your shoulder."

Notice that she neither denies nor agrees with Violet's guess about how meeting Azrael was a heck of a lot more frightening than finding Wick. Because it was, frankly, rather obvious.

"... Demons? Like what kind of demons?" Call it morbid curiosity. She already knows that vampires do indeed exist...

Wick muttered something unintelligible - probably very impolite, as well - and edged backwards from the girls. He hadn't done anything to the gash in his shoulder since he'd last seen Taryn, and he didn't intend to start now.

"I've only met one demon, I don't know if they're all the same." Violet shrugged, eyeing Wick and noting his behavior. "It doesn't quite have its own form. It's sort of residing in the head of this guy I know. It takes him over sometimes... and it's... it's pretty awful. Threatened to kill me, and it's driving the poor guy crazy."

She shook her head. She'd prefer to keep away from that subject, just as much as Taryn would like to keep off the subject of her first ecounters with magic. Violet looked at Taryn, nodding in Wick's direction. "What happened to his shoulder?" she queried.

"Scary," was Taryn's comment to the demon thing. As for the other...

"He was teasing a bunch of crows, and they didn't like it. He managed to get himself pretty well gashed--I made him let me clean it and bandage it. He's so little that just a regular bandaid worked. He didn't tell you, huh? Figures."

A rather mischievous little smile flitted across her face.

"What say we make him let us check it out again? Wouldn't want him to get infected, after all..."

Violet grinned in spite of herself. "Teasing crows? Wick, you know better," she scolded. It was difficult to define the relationship between her and the faery. To her, Wick was really just a mischievous kid who needed to be looked after more than he'd care to admit. She cast an appreciative smirk towards Taryn. "That sounds like a really good idea, to me, Taryn."

"No way," Wick glared at them, a flicker of fear in his eyes. "I'm jus' fine, I don't need anything done. Okay? ... Don't look at me like that, don't even think of coming near me..."

Ooh, he knew that expression all too well... He began backing away, frantically trying to put back on his cloaking spell. His fingers moved as if they were playing with an invisible cats-cradle.

Is it a bad thing that Taryn finds the fear--or more, the fact that he's afraid of something as innocuous and beneficial than the actual fear--rather amusing? Nah, prob'ly not. There's nothing wrong with a little mischief, after all.

"Oh, come on now, and stop being such a baby." Taryn unfolded from the bed and lunged for the stack of books and the faery atop them. If he went invisible before they caught him, they'd never get him.

The door's not still open, is it?

"I am not being a baby," Wick snapped, frantically scrambling backwards off the stack of books. He landed with the precision of a young cat, and ducked under the bed. The spell had been interrupted, but give him a few moments and he'd have it back. "What is it with you girls and your - ugh, I dono the word. You know what it is? You're both just mean."

Yes, Violet had closed the door after Taryn had come in. But she had her back to it, just in case. "Wick, come out of there," she said. She couldn't help but grin. This, from the boy who had no trouble mouthing off to anyone and anything. He was afraid of a little antiseptic. "If there's nothing wrong, then there's no reason why we shouldn't have a look, now is there?"

Violet motioned to Taryn, gesturing to Wick's shadow on the floor, stretching out from under the bed. She made a sweeping gesture with her hand, mouthing ,He's right there.

Taryn nodded, crouching down and practically slithering towards the bed and the shadow of the little faery under it. This was just like trying to chase down her little brother and make him behave, she decided. Only James was a little bit bigger.

It was rather difficult to suppress her giggles...

And...

Pounce!

"Gotcha!"

"Hey!" Wick yelped indignantly as Taryn's hands closed on him. "Let - me - GO!"
He'd been just about to disappear, too. Well, there went another waste of a spell. "Sure, sure... rub it in why don't you," Wick growled, fighting tooth and nail to free himself. He hated these cat and mouse games, when he lost. Most of the time he could sneak away, but with the two of them, he hadn't a chance.

"Ha! You caught him!" Violet said triumphantly, grinning. She went over to the bedside table and removed the first-aid kit from a drawer. She'd had to start keeping it closer to hand when she realized just how much trouble Wick could really get himself into. She kind of hoped she wouldn't need it this time, though - Wick hated being fussed over.

And if there's one thing you don't want, it's a pint-sized faery with a grudge and a penchant for mischief.

Taryn stood up and, grinning rather madly, cocked her head at the faery in her hands. "Hold still. You wouldn't want to make me squeeze you, after all." Not that she would, since she didn't want to hurt him...

At least, she wouldn't squeeze him on purpose. But if he wiggled too much, she might squeeze just so as not to drop him.

"Prob'ly going to need a new bandaid for him, and one of those alcohol wipe-y things. 'Cause I bet he hasn't done a thing to it since I put the bandaid on the first time."

She resettled herself on the bed, crossing her legs under her, indian-style.

"Knowing Wick, he's probably been pretending nothing ever happened. Here, I've got everything we need," Violet took out a few of the packaged alcohol wipes, a bandaid or two... that should do it. "Voila. And - Wick, for once in your life, behave yourself."

A funny look crossed Wick's face. It was the kind of expression that said ,'doom is at hand'. He redoubled his efforts, resorting to digging his sharp nails into Taryn's hand. As a rule, he didn't like to hurt anything. But if drawing blood could make her let go, so be it. "Why don't you just leave me alone?!" he complained, scowling darkly. He forced his clawlike fingernails into Taryn's skin. He took it for granted that she wouldn't squeeze him, as threatened. She just... wouldn't do that.

Taryn yelped and, instead of squeezing him, lifted him up, over her head, as if she were going to toss him. Her hand was around his middle, supporting him, but he was now essentially stuck at a potentially dangerous height at her whim.

"Behave yourself, Wick," she repeated Violet's admonition. "And if you keep scratching me, you're going to make me do something that you won't like very much."

She wouldn't do anything that would hurt him, no, but she had no problem at all with scaring him into obedience. Pretending to throw him across the room would probably do that well enough.

"Take your shirt off and hold still."

"No." Having once had wings, it wasn't heights Wick was afraid of. It was relying on someone else to make sure he didn't fall from said heights.

A little shudder ran through him, but he didn't pull his nails out. Instead, he scratched at her some more. If he'd been less civilized, he probably would have tried to bite her as well. This was utterly humiliating. "If you'd just put me down and leave me alone, I wouldn't be scratching you, now would I?!"

He looked pleadingly at Violet. "Make her let me go," he begged, mustering his best sad-puppy look. Violet wasn't immovable on these matters, he knew. She did have a soft spot for him. It was just exceedingly difficult to get to sometimes.

Violet shook her head. "Take your nails out of our guest, Wick. Do as she said, okay? It'll take longer, the more you stall," she tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it came out as amused instead. She couldn't help it. It was funny that he was making such a big deal out of it.

He glared at her defiantly, forcing his nails deeper into Taryn's hand.

A shrug that probably jarred the poor faery uncomfortably, then, "Well, you asked for it."

And she brought her arm back and went through the motions of throwing him across the room. The only difference between what she did and doing it for real was that she didn't let him go at the top of the arc.

Fingernails weren't that bad, you see. And her little brother had never had the problem with biting that Wick seemed to have. She's used to dealing with recalcitrant children...

... even when those children are a good five times her age.

Wick shut his eyes tight, waiting for the impact. He was shaking like a leaf. When he realized he hadn't been tossed, he cautiously opened one eye, then the other. "Don't DO that! What the hell is wrong with you?" he gasped. He'd managed not to scream, but he'd been terrified that she'd actually throw him. He'd used to go much faster than that, flying, but it was completely different when you knew you wouldn't be able to stop.

Slowly and shakily, he withdrew his nails from Taryn's skin, and hid his face in his hands.

"Taryn ..! What if you'd let go by accident?! You could've really hurt him," Violet said, kind of shocked at Taryn's tactics. Wick was white as a sheet, still shaking. He looked like he was going to cry.

"I wouldn't have. Besides. He's going to behave now, aren't you, Wick? Because you don't want me to do it again." She sounded unconcerned. "Also, I warned him. I told him I would do something he wouldn't like very much if he didn't behave himself."

She pretends to throw things rather often, as it happens--it's not something that she's worried about. She knew that she wouldn't let go of him. There was no real reason for him to be scared, except for the fact that he didn't share her knowledge. Scaring him into obedience was as good a way as any.

Of course, other people might not understand the way her mind worked.

Obviously.

"Y-you're a horrible, horrible girl," he said vehemently, his voice slightly muffled. Violet didn't look too pleased, either, - yeah, Wick had needed to behave. But he'd been really terrified. A little fright was okay, but not scaring him so much that he was crying.

Which was what he was now doing.

"I know you wouldn't have hurt him intentionally, Taryn, but... I mean, look at him..." Violet said. Wick's shoulders were shaking with barely-repressed sobs. His face was hidden in his hands so they wouldn't see his tears. Violet sighed in frustration. "Wick? If Taryn puts you down, will you stay still? You won't run away?"

"Mm-hm," he nodded, hiccupping. He didn't look up.

Violet did have to admit, Taryn's method worked. But she still didn't like it.

What is it that Machiavelli says? Something about doing what is necessary, isn't it?

It might be an odd thing to apply to Taryn, shy, often gentle, and unpreposessing Taryn, but... She does what is necessary, when there doesn't seem to be a better choice. Or when she's not interested in looking for that better choice.

Gently, she let him down on the bed, one finger brushing his hair in a gesture that was almost a caress. He was cute, after all.

And, if he keeps up the crying, she might start to feel a little guilty. "Hey, you're okay, kiddo. I didn't hurt you, and I wouldn't. Trust me."

That might be hard.

"I don't like you anymore. You really are mean," Wick said childishly to Taryn, flinching from her touch. Violet would have laughed if she didn't know he was serious. Wick rubbed his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He wasn't crying so much now, safe on semi-solid ground (blankets). "And I don't trust you."

"...C'mon Wick, no more stalling," Violet said. Back to business, now. He was a big boy, after all. Sorta. "Off with the shirt. And remember, you said you'd hold still."

"Yeah, yeah..." he sniffled. He struggled out of his shirt, using it to wipe his eyes in the process. "M-make it quick, okay...? I'm... I wanna g-go back to sleep..."

Wick was actually considering reweaving his cloaking spell. He'd said he wouldn't run away, that didn't mean he couldn't go invisible. Surely it wasn't running away if he didn't leave the room...?

No. No, better not.

"I was under the impression you didn't like me to start with. You certainly didn't seem to like me very much the first time I made you let me do something about your shoulder."

Probably she shouldn't have been quite so... for lack of a better word, harsh with him. But... Well, he was a big boy, as Violet had observed--he could deal with it. He would be fine, and he'd probably be back to his old tricks soon enough.

This is all mental justification, now. He did deserve something...

But maybe not that?

Very little of any of that shows on her face, though.

"Well, I didn't at first. It was none of your business anyway. Did like you for a little while. But I don't now. Don't like you at all," he muttered, holding his wadded-up shirt close to his face to catch any stray tears. "You're mean."

Violet was ignoring Wick's sulky rant - she was busy trying to open the plastic packaging on the alcohol-damp tissue, but couldn't manage it. Her fingernails, unlike Wick's, were blunt and very short. "Dangit. I've got to stop biting my fingernails. Taryn, could you get this open, please? I'll get the bandaid off in the meantime."

Taryn doesn't have very long fingernails either, but she has a habit of opening things and figuring out different ways to get things open that normally require them.

"Sure," she answered, taking the package with a faint smile and a flicker of something... sad, perhaps, or guilty... in her eyes and ripping it open. The smell of the alcohol stung her nose, but she ignored it.

"I s'pose you'll want Violet to clean it up," she said off handedly. "Since you still seem to like her."

((>.>

Bad post.))

"Yeah. You got it," Wick said, frowning. "Don't want you touching me..."

Violet cast Taryn an apologetic look, and mouthed He won't stay mad for long. She looked down at Wick. "No wiggling around." she said. He was hugging his knees, holding still as he'd said he would - she hadn't needed to tell him. He didn't even flinch when Violet peeled off the bandaid. It was about to come off on its own, anyway.

She tsk'ed disapprovingly on seeing what was underneath it. "Eeee. Wick, why didn't you show me before?" she asked, in a lightly scolding tone.

He didn't answer, busy directing a bleary glare towards Taryn.

"Oh, come on, Wick," Violet sighed.

"Not till she says she's sorry," he mumbled.

"For scaring you that badly? Yes, I'm sorry." She did sound sincere... even when you take into account the qualifier.

Though, she wasn't sorry that it had worked, that it had done what she wanted it to do, since that had been the main intention. Frighten him into holding still and letting the two girls do what they needed to do.

What she was sorry about was that it had terrified him that badly--that he had actually thought that she would have thrown him. That... hurt, a little. Because she'd never hurt him before, after all...

Hopefully he'd accept her apology.

"There - see? You're friends now?" Violet said cheerily, ruffling his hair with her fingertip. Ahhh, such a cutie. It made her forget what a pain in the neck he was capable of being.

"Hm," Wick muttered, somewhat mollified. He looked up, then quickly looked away. His eyes were a little red from crying. When he spoke, his tone was less offended, and more sad. "I guess. Just... you two seem to forget,... I'm not a toy. And I don't 'preciate being pushed around an' picked up. It's not like either of you are my mother or anything..."

Violet was a bit surprised to hear Wick make such a thoughtful statement. Then she felt a little guilt. She did treat him like a pet, or a nuisance, sometimes. Not that he wasn't a nuisance, of course. "I didn't think of it that way, Wick. We're only trying to help, you know..."

"M-hm..." he sighed. He rubbed his eye with his fist, and looked up at Taryn, nodding to the alcohol wipe she still held.

"...Well, get on with it..." he sniffled.

"Actually, if I treat you like anything, it's not like a toy but like my little brother. Only he hits harder. And he's blond. And a little bit bigger. But mostly, yeah, you remind me of James."

That's probably not altogether a good thing, actually, since James is nine years old, hyperactive, and somewhat spoiled. He's also adorable as all get out, which is why he manages to be forgiven for most of his crazy and/or painful antics.

And, speaking of her little brother... she would have done the same thing to him. If he were small enough.

"You know the drill, little man," she added, cleaning his shoulder with the alcohol wipe. "Hold still."

"Uh-huh, I know..." he shut his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. He hated this. This was why he hadn't told Violet, because she'd be doing the exact same thing, but probably twice a day.
Finding it impossible to remain quiet any longer, Wick allowed a pitiful whimper to escape him. If anyone even THINKS of calling me a baby... he thought miserably.

Violet began unwrapping the bandaid - at least for that, she didn't need fingernails, since the covering was only paper. "Thhhere. Almost done, Taryn?"

"All done. Now he just needs the bandaid." She was half tempted to say something along the lines of 'Would Wick like some candy for being such a good boy?' but two things stopped her.

One, he was prickly enough as it is...

And two, she preferred to keep her candy--specifically, chocolate--to herself.

"Here, I've got it," Violet stuck the bandaid over the cut on Wick's shoulder, making sure the edges would stay on. "That's not so difficult, huh, Wick?"

"Easy for you to say," he whimpered, stiffly pulling his shirt back on. "I'm goin' back to sleep now. So g'night, or good day, or whatever. I'm tired..."

Violet smirked at him as he scrabbled down from the bed, and vanished underneath the bedside table, where he was certain he wouldn't be bothered. "I wonder if faeries hibernate," Violet mused.

"I dunno. Seems like Wick would have trouble doing that anyway, 'cause he's so skinny, y'know? Hibernating involves living of your fat, and he doesn't have any."

Taryn sort of flopped backwards onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"D'you ever think all this--" a wave of her hand that included Wick, and any other supernatural things lurking in the building, the campus, and the city "--could all just be one really messed up dream? I do. If I didn't, I'd go nuts."

She accepts magic on one level, but on another level, she wants to hold on to what she's always been taught, always believed... Because if the God that she grew up with isn't real, there's almost no reason to remain sane.

Or alive. But we won't be morbid right now.

Violet plopped onto the floor, leaning her back against the wall. "I thought I was crazy for awhile. I figured it was crazy to think I had a faery living with me. 'Cause this kind of thing shouldn't exist, but... to me, now, it's only sensible to say it does, and we might as well accept it."

Her index finger found its way to the white streak of tape on the side of her face, absently running over its edges. "Besides, the more you know about it, the easier it is to deal with."

"It's pretty crazy to think that there're gods wandering around, and shapeshifting guys, and faeries, and elves, and vampires, and all that stuff, but... I dunno. Some of it makes me wish I were crazy."

Like Azrael. She really kinda wishes that he weren't real... Well, minus the 'kinda.'

"What've you met? I mean, there's Wick, and that demon thing you mentioned. Anything else?" Call it curiosity. You could also call it an interest in keeping the subject on Violet and not on her.