Drip, drip, drip.

The sound of a crimson liquid, resembling blood, except for the hint of gray in it, hitting the pavement, and echoing across the empty, darkened streets. Crouched in an alleyway was a creature, licking the oozing liquid off his fingertip, that was shown so anyone could see.

Sure, the human flesh was normal, but his nails... were not quite human nails. They were long, black, demon-like claws that stretched out to be around three inches long.

He flexed his long fingers, looking down at them and the one, bloody, index finger with mild interest. Vilhjámur, with his oversized coat and tall, muscular figure, was hunched over now, staring at the pavement, as if it were moving in some intriguing way.

Then he straightened. His height was perhaps towering, compared to some he saw, and his pale face seemed... inhuman. His black hair wasn't bothered to be put up, but instead hung loose about him, and got in his way every which way he turned or moved.

His average-looking, black pants hung the tiniest bit baggy about his muscular form, and as he walked, seemed to walk with him. they moved smoothly in motion, and looked like silk flowing gently in the breeze.

Intimidating and large as he was, he moved with gentle grace.

(I must apologize for this insanely crappy post. I've lost my post two times now, and I can't manage to get the effect the first post had. <_<)

Where was he walking to? He was heading to the road where a long, sleek black car was idling. It was almost hearse-like, but without the boxiness. He opened the door, and bent down inside.

Sitting down allready was a tan skinned woman who was staring absentmindedly at necklace she was wearing. Her brown hair fell just below her shoulders, prettily layered around her round face. She was wearing a long black coat that, is she were standing, would have fallen to around her ankles. It was like a stretched pea coat. She was also wearing tailored trousers with a nice blouse underneath. She looked over to the man that had just etered the car. Her icy eyes traced him over, and then she looked back up to the black wondow that separated their compatement from the next.

"What did you find?" Avariella asked, giving a sidelong glance to the man beside her. She uncrossed her legs, then crossed them again. She was wearing black dress shoes.

The man was indeed heading for the car, and he stopped at the car, entering with the grace he had (had) all his long life.

Vilhjámur smiled a smile of slyness, flexing his long, spidery fingers again, looking attentively over at the woman. "Oh, nothing." He shrugged, nonchalantly, settling into the seat of the car. "Where we going?" He asked, and pulled his seatbelt down, pressing it in the little socket until it clicked.

He blinked, purple eyes holding something of a secret. A secret for himself only, at the moment.

Avariella pressed a button next to her.

"Yes miss?"
"Miles, take us home please."
"Right away, miss."

She looked over at him. Her eyes looked into his, and then down at her hands. Ever since that dream last night, she'd been a bit skittish about looking him in the eyes. It had been a rather.. embarrasing dream. She was trying not to be conspicuos about it, but she didn't think she was succeding.

"I suppose we look again tomorrow. I need that book." She grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest. Avariella was very intent on advancing her skills as a mage, bring a better understanding to her craft. She was hunting down books that held spells not cast for hundreds of years, each more difficult than the last. They were very expensive... some in the millions. But she had money, and nothing to her was more important to her than her craft.

The body next to her shifted slightly, catching her attention.

Well, almost nothing.

Vilhjámur supposed that answered his question about the direction they were headed in. It didn't matter if his mistress hadn't said it directly to him. Indirectly was fine enough.

"I suppose we will." He said, voice a gentle tenor for one so muscular and tall. His sly smile turned into that of a rather charming one, and he absently made an attempt to brush away his bangs from his eyes. It didn't work.

Finally, his pouty lips relaxed into a normal expression, stretched neither in a frown or a smile. He did wonder why she wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"What about you? Find something, mistress?"

She let out a sigh. "Not much, only that getting any book from Mr. Arnold Stillman will cost me a very pretty penny- that is, if he ever admits to having the kind of books I'm looking for. He's trying to play games... Honestly, do I look stupid enough to fall for cheap peddlars tricks?" She asked, looking at him. "Anyways, I'l have to come back.. he was closing up his library when I got there."

She twirled a lock of chesnut hair around her finger. She wanted a new book so bad, it was almost like going through withdrawl. New challenges were a must for her... and it had been months since her last challenging spell.

He sighed, as well. "That is rather unfortunate, mistress. Are you sure there aren't books... at Jacobson's, that might interest you?" He inquired, never looking away from his mistress' pretty face.

"You can't trust that man. Might I suggest my... presence when you next visit, if I may?" He asked, folding his large hands in his lap, claws showing. He really did have to do something about those things.

The left side of her mouth twitched up a bit. Not a smile... just her expression for being amused.

"I think I can handle it, but thank you. And, Jacobsens doesn't have anything challenging anymore... unfortunatly. Otherwise, I would much prefer looking there."

She sighed and rested her chin on her palm, looking out the window. Snow was starting to fall lightly as they drove down the streets, made visible only by the cars headlights.

"I'm bored, Vil... I need something." She mumbled.

What a pity. Not a smile. She looked so pretty when she smiled.

"All right, as you wish. If you might be interested, in some of the sellers on Elm Street?" He suggested, relaxing into the car seat more now, face his general expression. Contentedly relaxed.

Vilhjámur glanced away for a moment, purple eyes taking in things he saw very carefully.

"Bored?" He sounded as if he had never heard the word before. "What would... entertain you, mistress?"

She let out a sigh. She hated it when he called her mistress.... but long ago she had learned that he wouldn't call her anything but that. It was so... impersonal, though. She really just wanted him to say her name... just once.

"I have no idea. That's my problem." Avariella grumbled. She needed something new. But what was new? She was 20... what could she do with the remainder of that day that she hadn't done in the last 20 years of her life?

Her friends had blamed it on her being a... a... workaholic, for lack of a better term. Another theory was she didn't take joy in enough things. The most popular was, of course, that she had no love life.

At all.

Zip.

Zero.

None.

Nada.

ALLRIGHT ALLREADY!

He wouldn't allow himself to call her anything but 'mistress', unless she so wished it. He was meant to be a servant, a guardian, an heirloom... nothing more. And so, he would continue to call her mistress, as he always had.

"No idea? Surely, you must have something in mind? Might I suggest you take some time off from work?" He asked. It was apparent he noticed that she was, indeed, in his eyes, a workaholic.

"To do something other than looking for books?" he added, thoughtfully.

Vilhjámur knew the feeling of having no love life, though. Since he was a servant, he told himself he couldn't allow himself to do such a thing. So, for his whole life, in one hundred and thirty-six years, he'd never loved anyone very deeply.

She looked over at him, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him.

"Now, tell me. What could I -possibly- do besides looking for books?"

((Ack! Sorry so short!!!!)

He looked slightly surprised. His purple eyes twinkled in amusement. "You expect me to know what mortals do for fun?" He cocked his head to one side, mildly amused. "I do know they do other things than searching for books, though."

She shrugged.

"Well, you -haved- lived on this earth much longer than i have. I thought you might have some inkling. I can't really think of anythin I'd like to do... unless you'd be interested in sitting down an watching a movie or something." She said jokingly. She crossed and uncrossed her legs once more.

"That is true, but... the fact that my mannerisms are hardly the same from yours is quite... a big difference." He glanced down at her legs, with all the crossing and uncrossing she was doing. "Nervous, mistress? You seem... bothered." That was the best conclusion the creature could come up with.

He took a moment to use a large, clawed hand, to tuck his hair behind his ear.

"A... movie? If that is what you would enjoy doing, mistress..."

She gave him a crooked smile. It was hard to read, to say the least.

"It was only a suggestion, we don't have to if you don't want to. And.. yeah, there's something, but... don't worryabout it." She gave him a bright, happy, fake smile, and then looked back out the window.

What was she supposed to tell him? That she was rather numb? Bored out of her skull? Lacking inspiration... love.

Blah.

Stupid dream from last night!

He was curious, to understate things dramatically, of what she was really thinking, under her beautiful exterior. He never could understand human minds, but rather thought them... complex.

His face twisted into a familiar human emotion. A faint grin, though it faded away as quick as it came.

"Whatever you will, mistress, I will go along with." Pity it had to be that way, but that was Vilhjámur's purpose.

"Are you sure... I should not be concerned?" He asked, with a thoughtful pause in between sure and I.

She looked over at him. Her eyes were cold, but not angry. Hum. Something odd.

"Will you please call me by my first name. I'm tired of being mistress. " She said, reaching over to put a small hand on his own clawed one. She didn't really think about her actions, she just... did.

He looked down into her eyes... cold as they were. It was an odd sight for the gargoyle.

"I'm sorry miss--- Avariella..." he corrected in mid-sentence. Then, he looked down at her hand, his gaze a gentle, harmless one. "Are you all right?" He asked, opening his hand up a bit. Not quite to the extent of flexing his fingers again, but an action meant to be... friendly, in the least.

It was an odd moment. Avariella had never heard him speak her name until now... in all the long years he had served her...

She hated that.

-Served her-.

He was her friend, if anything at all, and not a servant. He wasn't made to fetch her things... True, he was called to exterminate some creepy crawlies in the basement on a few occasions, but aside form that, he was a no more than a friend that lived with her.

She looked down at her hand on his, and recoiled it. It was inapropriate.

"Sorry.... and I'm fine. I think I'm finally paying for years of working without play... "

Or something like that...

If he knew at all that the woman thought of him simply as a friend, he wouldn't know what to say or how to react. All he knew in all his life was to be a servant, since he... didn't have a life of his own. Cold animated stone was all he was, and he'd thought all his mistresses and masters before her understood that- and indeed, they had.

Perhaps, though, if she thought of him as her personal bodyguard... he would understand better.

He watched, though, as she withdrew her warm hand from his unnaturally cold one, in silence.

"Apologizing... for what?" he raised an elegant eyebrow. "Perhaps you should take some time off from work..." This time it was more than a suggestion. His mistress was acting strangely, and it concerned him, if only slightly.

"Eh... for grabbing you hand. I didn't know if it was.. nevermind." She said very quickly. As for time off of work... perhaps that would be a good idea. How long had it been since she had taken a week or so off and relaxed?

....

Had she ever?

"Yes... I think you're right."

"Oh, for that, mistress---Avariella." He'd been adressing her as 'mistress' for so long, the name was quite foreign to him. "I trust that your actions do not recquire an apology." His purple eyes seemed distant, and his gaze far off, though he was paying full attention.

"Of course. Perhaps I should... stay in the basement? I will be of no use..."

She have him a slighlty scornful look. This requred her to twist her full lips in a a slightly odd manner, and then screw her eyes up a bit. She looked like she was in some sort of pain, but those who knew her well knew it was simply another one of her looks.

"Really now. You'd think you were nothing but a.... a... -slave- or something! You're my friend, above all. No. You'll stay up here, with me... Like a proper person."

Then, as an after thought.

"And, anyways, I'll need someone to escort me to the movies at some point."

Avariella, today, was quite good at messing his head up. "But, mistress, I--- that is not what I was intended for. That... is not my job." The block of stone could understand little, still, of mortals. They just... didn't make sense at all. And why would she refer to him as a human, anyway. Involuntarily, his claws twitched.

He gave a confused sigh, although he tried to suppress it. "As you wish."

Avariella was quite pleased with herself. She had always wanted to tell Vilhjámur that she thought of him as a friend, not a slave... but she had never really worked up the courage. It was one thing that she was meek about, for some odd reason.

Stepping out of the car, she glanced back at him then made her way inside.

"I'm going to go get sometihng different on. You're going to be my.... 'date' for tonight, if you don't mind. I'll be back down in a bit." She called behind her as she opened the large wooden door and stepped inside.

He gave a nod of acknowledgement, and stepped out of the car, as well. He'd wait there for her, instead of going inside, or waiting inside the car.

"As you wish, mistress." He said, quietly, deep purple eyes following her, watching her every step, until she entered.

Upstairs, the dark skinned woman was shiffling through her clothes, trying to find sometihng that wasn't so... manly. True, she like the no-nonsense look that she usually took on (it made people take her more seriously... that was a must for a girl like herself. ) but for this situation... she wanted something a little more appealing.

She finnaly decided on something and got herself ready...

Viljhamur supressed yet another sigh, and placed a large, clawed hand on the claw, to rest there. Humans were such fickle, undecisive creatures. Something he'd truly never understand, no matter how long he lived. With every decade that passed by, his understanding perhaps only lessened a great deal. They were so complex, and very hard to live with.

And this particular human, Avariella... she... was going to go... on a date... with him? This, he could not comprehend. In fact, he couldn't even comprehend the fact that she simply thought of him as a friend, and not a slave.

But now, he felt useless... it was his job to be her slave... to do whatever she wanted him to do. Without commands... without instrcutions, orders, or anything else, the gargoyle would be... free.

He'd been a slave all his life, and now had no idea what to do with himself... because of this sudden.. revelation.

The click of heels echoed against the stone of the stair as she made her way down. Avariella felt so incredbly out of her element, but.... she was happy with hw she looked. Wearing a short black dress that laced up the front and was quite flowey for its short length and black 'Betty Page' heels, she looked rather nice. She actually out on some makeup for once (this took a lot longer than she had hoped... she had smudged her mascara about 4 times and had to wash her face entierly!) and her eyes were even more accentuated than usual.

"Well.... what do you think?" She asked, halfway down the stairs.

Viljhamur was not expecting to be suddenly asked a question, so looked up at Avariella with a an expression that made him look like he'd been hit with a wet fish. He was surprised, to state the obvious.

Then the suprised expression slowly eased off his face, and he showed off his snow white smile, with those fangs of his. The smile didn't look friendly and warm like it was supposed to because of his teeth, but then again, it never did.

"You look..." what do those humans use to describe woman? Nice? Pretty? "beautiful." How's that for an adjective?

Avariella reacted in a way she rarely did. Her eyes squinted a bit, and her pink lips cracked open wide to show her brilliant white teeth. Her smile was enough to knock any man off of their feet.. not that she knew or anything.

"Thankyou." She said, only the slightest bit of color coming to her cheeks. "I checked the schesdual, and we have three movies that the times are conveniant. Hitch, Shrek, or... the Ring." The last one was said quite a bit lower than the rest.

((The ring scared me shitless... I couldn't sleep for a week!!!)

Viljhamur cocked his head, looking at her strangely. Didn't she know that he didn't know what movies were out as of late? Didn't she know that he hardly watched any movies in his life? Maybe she forgot.

"Whichever one you want to see."

"Erm.. I'd rather you pick one. Just... randomly. It's up to you."

Avariella was really a 'take charge' kind of girl... except when it came to this... uhm... person. Vilhjámur always made her feel differently about... most things, really.

This was one of those times.

Well, since he really didn't like the sound of a movie called 'Hitch', that one was out. And because the name of the movie 'Shrek' sounded too terribly odd, that one was out too. He'd picked by process of elimination.

"The... last one? The...Ring?"

After all, what could be wrong with a movie with such a pleasant name as 'the ring'?

Ava flinched a bit.. but was determined not to back down. She wasn't a wimp, afterall! And.... it was just a movie.... right?

...

"EEEEEEK!"
For the third time in the first half hour, Avariella shrieked and covered her face with her hands.

Well... maybe she was just a little bit of a wimp.

Oh dear, that couldn't be good. At least, he didn't think that sound humans made was good.

"Something wrong, mistress?" Poor Vilhjámur was very confused at his dear Avariella's antics, and wore a very bewildered expression. He hadn't expected that reaction.

She uncovered her face, and looked quickly from the screen to Vils.

"Oh... I'm fine... I'm just.... Ahhh!" With a bit of flailing, Avarilella grabbed hold of Vilhjámurs arm and held tight.

"I'm just a little scared." She mumbled into his arm.

He looked down at the flailing Avarilella and frowned. Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea in the world to see this movie. He hadn't noticed anything strange yet, and hadn't been the least bit scared, however.

"Don't be scared," he whispered. It was a movie theatre, after all. "I'm here." He meant it in a different way than he'd said it, however. He meant he'd be there to protect her, because it was his job.