peace of mind [chey]

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

Atticus was going to have her frozen stone cold neck if he realized how much she actually did wander off this time. She was given simple instructions not to wander off, or at least not too far from where he and his mate left her to be. Though, why would he leave her all alone if he was so afraid of her getting in trouble? Couldn't he have left Cecilia behind to babysit her, or at least have the two women try to make nice and get to know each other?

As if more than six hundred years wasn't enough.

Instead with very little light given by the moon's gleam, she stood in the near shadows of the old theater. Her scarlet eyes gleamed with some sort of remembrance, happy for some odd reason. She remembered when they had came to Italy, when she saw this place in use for real acting; not the movies that the humans would be watching. Real live action acting; it was always the best. Now here she was, standing in the barren and rocky forgotten place. Idle her hand touched her temple, she remembered the smell in the air, the laughter and the salty tears that some humans had cried that night.

Sometimes she wished that she wasn't this perfect immortal woman who was able to walk around the Earth without a care of dying of old age, of getting old and looking disgusting. Instead she could remain beautiful, healthy and perfectly the same as she did over six hundred years ago to the very date. "I'm sorry father.." He was long since dead, and she was unsure if he had any further children after she.. after she.. sometimes she missed the feeling of tears escaping.

[/b] num
TAG; chey
NOTES; :3 wee.~
CREDITS; credit to callie![/ul][/size][/font]

[ALEC AMRIC VOLTURI]

Oftentimes, Alec liked to consider himself a far more patient individual than the rest of his esteemed coven. It was he who was always there with a wry jibe, or a teasing remark generally aimed at his beloved sister when she exceeded expectations, which was often. Lately, however, he had begun to feel his patience wan to dangerous levels, due in no small part to the incessant stream of tasks he had been assigned to do in order to ready Volterra for Aro's ball. It wasn't that he didn't see the point behind it--Aro's ambition was almost physically tangible, to the point where even Alec could feel smothered by it, especially when it manifested in ways such as this--but rather that he loathed the way it drew him away from Jane.

Alec may have been instrumental in being able to calm his sister down, and he may have been seen as the calm to her fire, but the bond between them worked both ways. The Volturi failed to understand that Jane kept Alec himself calm, in her own little way, and that, if he were away from her for too long, he became as close to anxious as he ever got, even if the twisted smirk on his face still remained; even if the murderous smile and the barbed quips continued. He was more likely to just kill than he was to actually take the effort to resolve a situation, in these instances; more likely to finish a cordial conversation by standing and abruptly ripping the head off of his target, or by cutting off their sense and watching with a cruel smile as they started to claw in front of them, driven mad by their own thoughts.

It was in those moments that he most resembled his sister, the angelic beauty giving way to the same sadistic smile that Jane was so fond of.

Now, though, he was the very picture of Volturi calm, and though he had forgone the long Volturi cloak in favour of the dark jacket, dark red shirt and dark pants, he carried himself as he he wore the cloak, movements languid and even, his eyes fixed resolutely ahead of him at the crumbling stone of the fallen amphitheatre. Unbidden, a smirk, or the ghost of one, flickered across Alec's face. This place had once been the very centre of Rome's cruel fancies, where men would fight each other and various beasts until the sand beneath their feet was red with blood. So many had died and found their fame here, and so many more had willingly done so for that fame. Alec remembered hearing about the Romans filling the great colosseum with water and boats, and filling those boats with young girls to sing and entertain, before the Emperor had released alligators and hippos and the boats had flipped, and the water had run red with the blood of the muses.

It must have been intoxicating.

Shrugging off the thoughts, the young-looking vampire, swept through the crumbling stone, walking through the half-ruined hallways of the lower levels before he, too, followed in the footsteps that many had taken before he had even been turned, moving from the shadows of the dead into the light of the moon that shone down into the centre of the colosseum.

It was then, of course, that he turned his head, catching the scent of another vampire. He didn't tense--there was only one, and Alec knew that, unless it was that morally boring Cullen Shield, he would have the upper hand.

"Another wanderer travels to Italy," he drawled, even as his dark eyes, in a transition between red and black, raked across the crumbling stone to search out the strange smell. "My, my. It's like a flock of flies, drawn to the light." He referred, of course, to Aro, and the invitation he had extended to vampires all around, even those of nomadic preferences, such as Nikolai Belanov, a vampire whom Aro saw fit to do "business" with from time to time. The man himself was beneath Alec's contempt, of course--he would not care what Belanov did until it was something wrong--but that did not mean Alec was unaware of what went on behind Volterra castle's stone walls.

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

In her loathing, her mind was diving through all of the locked up memories that she twisted, corrupted, damaged. For her own protection against the humans, or against people such as herself she would constantly dig into their mind until it was raw and until it was like sand, or mud; squishy, mold able. So many had learned of her rather.. powerful gift but did not believe that there was a more higher protector over her unique gift. Atticus would see that no one was to take away his sister, not while venom that allowed him to move coursed through his undead body.

She leaned against the old brick stone that was built oh so many years ago, staring at her hand. She wondered what could she personally do with all this power at her finger tips. Asela was not stupid, she was aware that she could create a war with a simple physical contact with any political leader for at least two to three days, then moving on as if she was not there to even to begin with. Yet, she was also aware of the fear that was put inside of her naive little mind; Volturi. Many warned her nomadic family if they were to catch scent of her. Atticus drilled it into her mind if they were to find out, they would surely kill him and Cecilia in order to ... make an example if that were to ever happen.

Why not cage me then? A snarl escaped into her mind, one of many hardened tones against the older Kolm. Her mind was still like liquid as if she was clawing through her own raw memories in order to make an example of herself. That was heavily and quickly stopped though. The wind blew against her already frozen skin, but it brought a gift; a scent. No, it was not Atticus' nor was it Cecilia's. It was something different, someone else's. It was immortal, yes, a vampire, but fiend or friend she did not know.

Asela tried to fade herself into the dark abyss, to move away from the glare of the moon who seemed to taunt at the very thought of giving away a secret that the immortal woman had been telling it. Scarlet eyes were possibly the only thing that was giving herself away, that and possibly the fact she was always trying to move, to further herself away from the scent without rushing back to Atticus' side like a leech, like a lost puppy of sorts. Her fingers twitched, something dark thrilled her at the thought of possibly clawing at raw memories, even if it was the very moment that the person found her, to allow an easy and quick escape.

[/b] num
TAG; chey
NOTES; :3 wee.~
CREDITS; credit to callie![/ul][/size][/font]

[ALEC AMRIC VOLTURI]

The expression that stole across Alec's face at the silence of the other vampire was nothing short of unsettling, one borne of a sudden jolt of pleasure and anticipation. When his prey ran, no matter how futile the gesture, it never failed to amuse him. Of course, these days, not many of them ran anymore, and instead tried their hands at bargaining, talking until the black mist from Alec's hands curled around their bodies, cutting them off mid-speech as they found themselves without sight, without touch, without sound, or any of the basic things so many of them took for granted. Once, there had been a time where Alec would have wished for that respite--wished that he could not feel the pain of the flames as they licked at his skin, burning it black as he and Jane clutched at each other's hands and burned, his sister's eyes as bright and fierce as the fire that tried to steal their weak human lives--but now it was his gift, twisted as it was, to give to others. Whether or not they were of a state of mind to recognise that was, of course, of no consequence to Alec himself.

Most of them, he knew, wouldn't even know when the killing blow was dealt to them. How absolutely pitiful, really, and embarrassing, he supposed, when his and Jane's gifts brought down vampires easily twice their petitie sizes. They were constantly moving, the two of them, and perhaps that was why their eyes had not filmed over like Aro's had; why their skin had not powered as uniquely. When he and his sister had come face-to-face with their ancient enemies, the Romanians, out in the snowy fields against the Cullen clan, he had noticed, however fleetingly, that their eyes had remained clear, too; clear, alert, and filled with so much hatred that it would have made Alec's blood sing, had he still been in possession of some.

And now, it seemed, he had a knew enemy--or at least a vampire foolish enough to come to Italy and back away from the Volturi's most powerful offensive weapon, as Alec knew he was, if only for his ability to affect multiple targets at one time.

Quietly, and without attracting attention to himself, Alec slid into the shadows of the crumbling stone, his eyes still roaming the ruins until, at last, he caught the sound of movement, and his eyes snapped immediately to the source.

He couldn't see the other vampire--not in its entirety--but the vague figure trying to back into the darkness was enough to cause another smirk to steal across his face, even as he made his way towards it, following the almost nonexistent sounds of the vampire's feet scraping against the stone as it moved.

When he began to near, he slowed his pace a little bit, content to stand and watch the almost desperate movements of prey trying to outrun a predator, or even just another predator trying to evade a confrontation.

How sad, coming to Italy without saying hello to one of us, Alec thought absently, even as he rested his hands at his side, head inclined in a mock-considering fashion, for he was mocking the other vampire, make no mistake of it.

"There's a children's rhyme for this, I believe," Alec said dryly, his eyes never leaving his target, and as he took another step he released, absently, that the vampire was female, her eyes glowing bright red with the light of a vampire that had fed recently, as opposed to his, dark red in a transition to black. "Is it my turn to hide, now?" Though there was no smile on his face, his voice was dripping with condescending mirth. "Or shall I give you another turn?"

This vampire's scent wasn't one he recognised, and it was enough to make Alec stop, unsure of whether the vampire was capable of harming him or not. He doubted it, but he would not be the one to instigate a needless fight as the situation stood. As long as the other vampire didn't try anything rash--or anything stupid, really--Alec's hands would remain calmly at his side, the sickly black mist curling just below the palms, dormant and unused until he felt he had to protect himself.

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

[/color]" Soft and almost fragile, delicate not to anger, she was not stupid, Atticus taught her better. They were in Volturi territory thus a high chance of them lurking around and ultimately coming across them. She was truly afraid, she had a right to be afraid.

Opening them slowly she tried to find a general location of where the male would be standing. She looked behind, around and even above. There were only a few escapes that were being listed from most likely - and what she was willing to do - to the very worst possible escape routes. One of them naturally was just molding or erasing the memory of this very night. No doubt they'd remember days later, but it was a short relief for her and the other two to escape... for the time being.

As if Asela was playing with a man she once fancied as a young girl, she began to find certain coves and curves within the old dome that allowed her to sneak by; hide n' seek. Asela was ultimately unaware if he had the upper hand with this unknowingly picked human game. The hard skin of her hand would brush up against the stone corners as she'd glance over her shoulder, ultimately having a stubble hint of a smile as she would turn the next corner. She was growing curious if he could find her, or she'd run into him.

"It's your move."[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font][/ul]

[/b] num
TAG; chey
NOTES; :3 wee.~
CREDITS; credit to callie![/ul][/size][/font]

[ALEC AMRIC VOLTURI]

A challenge.

It had been a long time since he had been openly challenged by anyone, and the fact that this vampire had dared to do it told him more than he needed to know about who she was and even some of what her past experiences had been. Part of him wanted to just cut off her senses right then and walk calmly towards her before lessening the mist and asking, in a mocking tone, if he had made the correct move before he killed her, to hell with whatever Aro said. It didn't help that he was aching for his sister by his side, and that his prolonged time away from her had resulted in him being more likely to just snap than usual, but at the same time he could not pass this one opportunity up, at least not entirely.

Stifling a small chuckle, Alec narrowed his eyes, following the general shape of the female, watching as her head moved carefully, looking at her sides and behind, and Alec took the time to internally thank the blackness of his clothes. She had not seen him, this girl, but more important than that, even if she had, she did not know who he was.

Her ignorance was both a sore spot to Alec and something that made him want to laugh, and again the urge to just show her who he was presented itself, but he stayed his hand, aware that it was possible--however unlikely--she had allies nearby. It had been a long, long time since anyone had mistook him for a more harmless creature, as he and Jane were known throughout the vampire world as the two most feared guardsmen in the entirety of the Volturi, so well known that even the sounds of their voices--Jane's so deceptively sweet and melodic, high like an angel's even as she spoke of horrors and death, and his twisted with a constant tone of mockery, light-hearted to make up for the fact that his own voice had never gotten the chance to deepen entirely, frozen was he at a young age--that even the most seasoned of vampires had tried to turn tail and run at the sound of them.

Were Jane here, he had no doubt that this strange vampire would have recognised him. Even if she had never encountered them, or heard true descriptions of them, she would have known who they were instantly had Jane, Alec's other half, been standing at his side, her mouth pulled into a sadistic smile as she showed this nomad--for he had no doubt that that was what this vampire was--exactly who they were and why she would be wise to fear them with her life. But, for once, Alec decided to enjoy the relative animosity. He would play this nomad's game, and he would win, and if she proved herself not to be boring, perhaps he would allow her life, or impart upon her the invitation to Aro's ridiculous ball that the guards had been ordered to pass around where mailing was not possible.

He did not close his eyes, Alec was no fool, but he allowed her to hide herself before he spoke again, not even bothering to conceal the taunting mirth in his voice.

"I don't spend much time on children's rhymes," Alec said even as he himself stepped back into a shadow, wondering how this game of cat-and-mouse would end, and which role each of them would end up playing. His footsteps were even, the only splash of colour on him being the dark brown of his hair, the dark red of the shirt he wore under the dark jacket and the lingering red in his irises. He kept his eyes pealed for her, as he knew she would for him, and chuckled lowly. "So why don't you tell me how it ends? I'd hate to miss a bit of entertaining knowledge."

He paused when she declared it his move, eyes tracing the way her voice echoed in the broken stone even as he began to follow it again.

"Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?" he murmured into the air, reciting the words of an old nursery rhyme he had, in fact, heard, when England had gone up in flames with the screams of protestants and Catholics alike as they all burned at the stake at the will of their subsequent monarchs. But the Mary in his words was the one the world remembered as Bloody Mary Tudor, her reign a dark spot in England's vast history, marred by mass fires as she tried to bring her beloved England back to her equally beloved faith.

How pathetic.

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

[/i] united during those times. Yes it was still a Kingdom, but that didn't mean it was a Kingdom full of peace and equal rule. There was a princess who later became Queen.

Asela speculated that perhaps this Queen was actually an immortal creature but Atticus told her that it was probably the interbreeding of the royal families that just simple had something wrong go on in the mind. But Queen Mary indeed did kill many innocent people because of their 'beliefs'. It was rather sad actually, why not go along with what your ruler believed in that way you didn't need to worry about finding or having people see your head served either on a silver platter or put on a spike for all of the peasants to see? It was rather idiotic.

Her voice was filled with a sadistic glee, remembering those days as if it was just the other night they were walking through the streets at midnight. "With silver bells and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row." She spoke aloud, with her voice growing slowly into a whisper as she began to move around once again. She was rather curious to know whom she was playing cat and mouse with. Asela was not even suspecting Volturi, she'd expect them to cut to the chase and already have her be rushed into the dust that would be expected from those who lived much longer than herself.

Asela thought about going to the next level of the theater, but she thought that perhaps her play mate would easily notice her trying to move around and then the game would sadly end. I wonder, if this one shall remember tonight? She felt so.. so twitchy for some odd reason. There was that almost human like gut feeling that was telling her to use it, to escape and get far, far away. But there was the other part of her mind that was actually.. thrilled by who ever by be chasing her. It was that Flight or Fight instinct that she always doubted of having.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font][/ul]

[/b] num
TAG; chey
NOTES; :3 wee.~
CREDITS; credit to callie![/ul][/size][/font]

[ALEC AMRIC VOLTURI]

There was a slight pause in Alec's gait as the nursery rhyme was repeated in a soft tone, and he clicked his tongue, briefly, as his head swivelled in the direction of the sound. Though the game was a novelty, it was a novelty that was beginning to abruptly wear thin on frayed nerves. He may have been one of the less easily ruffled members of the Volturi, but there was always a limit to how long Alec was willing to play any one game, and he could feel that willingness slipping away with each step he took inside the familiar stone of the colosseum itself.

He had not been living at the height of Rome's expansion, and neither had Jane, as the Roman empire had risen and fallen centuries before their spineless mother had birthed them into an impoverished peasant village in England, but the great building had not been in as bad a shape back then, the stones still standing strong against the wear and tear of time. They had come here when they were young, under Aro's orders to flush out any that would challenge Volturi rule in their own territory--pockets of vampires still mentally loyal to covens such as those once belonging to the Romanians and the Egyptians which, at their height, had warred against each other, even though the Romanian coven had been stronger and more united under its twelve leaders. The stragglers had been punished, of course, hiding in these very stone walls as Alec and Jane had descended in their black cloaks, flanked by lower ranking guards to ensure their safety. Not that they had needed it.

Jane's presence felt more and more like a physical ache, depriving him of the soothing company her readiness to kill and hurt provided him. Perhaps, in a way, he lived his own sadistic tendencies through her, but Alec always had preferred to step back and watch as others fell, as opposed to being directly involved in the thicket. It was why he was so fond of his own power, so he could watch those around him fall without even having to raise a finger. Physical torture wasn't anything compared to that caused by psychological warfare, after all, though there was a part of Alec, however small, that was relieved it had been Jane who received the burning gift instead of him.

The memory of the fire was, after all, not something he ever wanted to relive, and though he did so love watching people as they screamed under Jane's gift, a niggling part of Alec's mind suggested that he would not have been able to maintain the mental torture as long as Jane could. Jane had wanted the world to burn, and Jane had had no more tears to cry after their change, but it had taken Alec longer to accustom himself to it, and it had manifested in a terrifying quickness to kill when the need arose.

Alec didn't like drawing things out longer than he had to. It just wasn't in his nature. So, with careful but quick movements, Alec upped his speed, using it to move faster down the hallways of the upper levels before he abruptly dropped down right behind his target, dark eyes flashing, barely noticeable in the dim. There were no lights covering the colosseum tonight, and he used that to his utmost advantage even as he calmly rested his arms back at his side, feeling the black mist swirl out of his palms for a moment before he recalled it, inclining his head.

"One, two, three, four, five; once I caught a fish alive," Alec said from right behind her, though he made sure he was far enough away that she would not be able to spin around and touch, lest she have an ability like the Denali girl, one that would have him on the ground before he could blink. He didn't have much use for the Denali coven themselves, not after Eleazar had left for a frankly ridiculous romantic pursuit, but that didn't mean he turned blind eyes to them.

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

[/color]" Her head cocked to the side, curious to know what he wishes to gain from their little... adventure. Run, idiot! R U N. Warning bells were going off in her head and she wasn't too sure why, the lights were they were did not help, sure they had enchanted eye sight but no one was that special to see through the abyss in front of them. All she noticed that he was wearing a simple grey coat, nothing really usual, thankfully.

[/b] num
TAG; chey
NOTES; :3 wee.~
CREDITS; credit to callie![/ul][/size][/font]

[ALEC AMRIC VOLTURI]

His eyes traced the incline of her head as she moved, and though he knew she must have been scared--only someone with little to no sense of self-preservation would have been entirely fearless in this case, so near Volturi territory, even if she didn't suspect--she didn't back down, at least, a fact that made the Volturi vampire want to both grit his teeth in irritation and anger (how dare she not show a member of the Volturi proper respect, his mind whispered dangerously to him, presenting tantalising images of a headless corpse as opposed to what was probably the flawless complexion of a pale young woman) and incline his head in mock-admiration for her foolishness.

Bravery was something Alec had little time for, as of late, and it was something he had never been much impressed by to begin with. Bravery was something fools used when they didn't have anything to fall back on and they knew it; bravery was for those who knew they were walking to what could be their deaths; bravery was for those who wanted to die as heroically as possible, to die with their regrets but to go out in a burst of flame knowing that, in the end, they had done all they could to continue living. It was a pride thing, Alec knew, having seen it in the faces of many vampires as they stood there, letting Alec's mist wash over their bodies like a lover's embrace before their eyes would empty of expression, their faces going slack as they suddenly lost the world as they knew it. He had watched many others stare Jane down, even as she forced their mouths open in pained screams, made them die in front of those they cared about, uninjured physically, but forcing open psychological wounds that Alec knew were far more dangerous than most people imagined.

Had Alec the choice to choose for himself another gif, another power, perhaps it would have been to be able to force open the minds of his opponents, harnessing their memories for himself as a far more powerful weapon than most realised. Granted, that was more Aro's tactic than his own--Aro's gift, which allowed him to see everything, from something as mundane as a vampire's last meal to the most scarring incident they had ever witnessed in their lives--but it was a gift Alec could appreciate when he saw Aro use those memories against their holders. Sometimes it even brought a faint smile to his face, the one permanently tinged with an absent mockery that never seemed to leave Alec's person, from the simplest of movements to the smallest words he spoke. The mockery was an ingrained feature, something he had picked up long ago, derived from his pity for those less than him, and oh, there were many like that. In the years that had gone by that pity had both grown and lessened, both hammering at and building Alec's pride. The last major blow had been when the Cullen girl's shield had effortlessly repulsed both his and his dear sister's abilities, but Alec had merely smiled with caustic kindness and left, his sister simmering at his side, where he had physically held her back when she had made to move towards the Cullens in her righteous anger.

Alec's own anger had paled in comparison to Jane's, of course, but it had manifested in more quick and deadly kills; a desire to know how to end someone's life in sharp, accurate movements if he needed to, something he had never had to learn before because he had been god, he had been untouchable; he and Jane had ruled at the top of the world, unopposed, but now there was something, that snivelling little something that ignited the dead senses in Alec's body and, for a brief moment, made him want to burn.

And as he watched the other vampire's hands grasp reflexively, Alec felt that he had been right in his choice to learn, and not just rely. That little twitch was enough to tell him that there was something else to this vampire; something that he didn't know, and that he had been wise to stay out of her immediate reach, far enough away that he would have time to fight back if she made a move.

Slowly, the Volturi vampire raised his eyes to meet the girl's, but there was no mocking playfulness anymore; no more room for children's games and nursery rhymes.

"Now," he said, "you will stay put and tell me who you are, and pray I'm feeling an ounce of mercy." He smiled at her then, but there was no kindness in the expression. "Because no matter how fast you run, you will trust me when I say that there are ways to find you. If you have nothing to hide, well, then we're square, aren't we? You can hop along back to where you came from, and I'll forget I saw you here."

His eyes narrowed slightly on her person, and he brought his hands up absently, splaying his fingers out with deceptive grace. The mist swirled beneath his palms, but it did not manifest.

"We have had a lot of nomads gathering in Italy lately, you understand," Alec said then, rolling his shoulders languidly, much like a cat. "The Volturi's Forever Young ball is but a few scant weeks away. It simply wouldn't do for the guard to be dropping the ball, letting strange vampires move in where they could cause trouble."

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

[/color]" Her voice was lowered as she continued to bow her head at the same respect, keeping her eyes downcast, she did not want to anger the male in front of her, she knew better. But there was the action of escape clearly held in the front of her mind. She kept her hands stilled now, aware that Volturi guards would easily notice any sign of physical change or grasping as her hands have been doing. She was fearful and she wouldn't be surprised if he could tell.

Asela waited for him to finish speaking before allowing her softer voice to speak out. "I have nothing to hide, Sir." She wouldn't make eye contact with him, she was fearful it would simply make him angry. "My name is Asela Kolm, I travel with my brother and his mate." Asela knew she was better off telling the truth right from the start, it would turn out better that way than confessing last minute right before she would be killed. At the mentioning of forgetting seeing her, she wanted to tell him she would gladly make that come true right now; but Asela knew better than to speak out against her better like that. The only person she'd need to keep this secret from would be Atticus.

More Nomads? Asela looked up slightly, she appeared to be thinking about something, the possibility of more nomads around was a startling thought. Yes, she and her two family members did move around quite frequently, but they did settle depending on what the location was and who was currently in that location. Atticus told her that they were thinking about taking different aliases, his and Asela's names were out of date, and settle somewhere in the Americas for a short period or possibly back in England where they'd have to make some softer changes instead of changing names. Upon hearing of the Ball, Aslea understood then why there was such a nomad increase, they wanted to see if they could get closer to the current generation's royalty, at least that's what Asela saw them as.

"I'm unaware of such events, I ... I am not told of many up coming events." Her voice was caught for a moment, unable to word her words about why she was unaware of the ball without throwing Atticus underneath the bus or giving away someone was purposely keeping her in the dark because of something. "I can understand why you're being very cautious." Asela kept her head bowed as she spoke her words softly, now holding the rightful respect that she should've been showing earlier.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font][/ul]

[/b] num
TAG; chey
NOTES; :3 wee.~
CREDITS; credit to callie![/ul][/size][/font]

[ALEC AMRIC VOLTURI]

He saw the exact moment when wariness gave into outright fear and deference, and for a moment he just basked in it silently, as it were a physical force; a fog that surrounded him, and he could almost imagine that he could reach out and run his hand through air, grasping at something that slipped through his fingers but that was undeniably there all the time. It was a feeling he had known for many years, but one that he had never truly gotten tired of. He had earned it, in a way, after his gift had resulted in the annihilation of the entire Romanian army, and Alec did so love to reap the rewards of his work. What most didn't suspect, however, was that the subconscious deference, the fear-driven respect of sorts that he gained from other vampires, that the Volturi gained, also helped to soothe whatever nerves may have been frayed. It wasn't as efficient as having Jane there, no, but it worked to smooth the smile on his face one of absent mockery as opposed to sadistic cruelty, his arms rising to cross gently over his chest.

The fact that the other vampire had bowed her head helped as well, and Alec resisted the urge to click his tongue and make a flippant remark like the ones he often made in the relative comfort of the Volturi throne room. She may have been foolish to engage in silly games with an unknown participant, but he could tell by the realisation entering her eyes, before he head had lowered, that she had realised that. This was a survival method, he knew--defer to and please the higher power, and perhaps the higher power would not force a confrontation that would likely end in the death of the offender--but it was one he did enjoy, had enjoyed for a thousand years, and would continue to enjoy for as long as his mind remained functioning.

Alec's smirk grew more amused when he heard the softening of her voice, and though he knew for a fact now that she knew he was of the Volturi guard, the fact that she didn't know which one continued to be a source of wariness for him. Everyone far and wide knew of him and Jane, after all, and even if they had not been able to tell in the darkness at first, anyone who had ever heard of them in their entirety should have been able to recognise him after the coven reveal.

But this one hadn't.

A myriad of possibilities flickered through Alec's mind then--a recent turn, perhaps; a newborn that had escaped her sire, but no, this was no newborn, he could tell by the controlled movements and even just te way she had moved, used to the vampiric functions of her body, like she had had them for a long time--but most were easily dismissed as improbable. Impossible things, of course, did not even occur. Alec had lived far too long to waste time on situations that could not, in all logicality and probability, be. Therefore, there were only two real choices here for him, and with the odds so stacked in favour of one of them, he allowed his eyes to narrow again, never taking his eyes from the bowed head of the female vampire before him. She didn't meet his eyes again, even when the rushed words left her mouth, and it made Alec's mouth twist in a callous manner, even as he leaned slightly to one side of his body, forever frozen between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, perhaps even seventeen. He did not know his true age, though, as it was often a knowledge not afforded to peasants, and he did not care to anymore. It was done, and he'd rather be here than ashes in the wind, all that remained of a boy whose pale skin had been blackened and burned by the flames of a community's hatred and fear.

"And where is your brother and his mate?" Alec drawled. "Keeping company amongst the bones of the gladiators?" He smirked again, and though his posture remained solid, neither stiff or rigid but also not entirely relaxed, his tone was easy, the edge of playful mockery making itself more known. Then he grew serious. "Or are they hiding here? Have you tried luring a member of the Volturi into a little ambush? That would be unfortunate." The drawl was back, and he watched her as she looked up slightly, and the confusion in her eyes at the mention of the Volturi ball was enough to draw Alec's suspicion of her back.

So his suspicion had been right.

Her name was an old name, too old to be anything most modern people had heard of, and since she was obviously not a newborn, he wracked his brain for information. It was amazing what one could tell just by dating someone's name, really, as Alec had learned from watching Aro play his startlingly accurate guessing games without the use of his powers. Still, he couldn't quite place it, not entirely.

"How odd," the Volturi vampire said, drumming pale fingers carelessly on the dark fabric of his sleeve. "Because, you see, the news is everywhere. Now how on earth could you have missed it?" Had he been flanked by Felix at that moment, or another brute guard, that would have been the time one of them moved forward, yanking her chin up in an attempt to get her to look at them; to realise what she was playing with. He did not have Felix here, however--at least not in the colosseum, though no doubt there would be other members of the lower ranking Volturi guard somewhere in the city, as reserve backup should Alec need it--and wasn't particularly keen on putting himself on the line against a potential unknown.

"You aren't hiding something, are you? Hiding something like the arrogant Egyptians tried to hide from us with their special elemental, hmm?" He smiled again, though his eyes remained narrowed. "Perhaps you should tell your sire that he should keep you better informed of events, then, less ignorance give away too many little secrets." He chuckled lowly, then. "Of course, I'm just being cautious, you understand." For a moment he considered her again before reaching quickly into the pocket of his jacket and withdrawing a rolled piece of parchment, which he tapped once against the side of his head before he tossed it in her general direction. "Perhaps you should attend. After all, we wouldn't want you to miss out on the upper crust of vampiric hierarchy, now would we? There are many calling it the most exiting event of the past two centuries." He inclined his head lightly. "I'm sure Aro would so love to meet your coven."

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

[/i] We would never think of such things. They.. they're some where within the city. I don't like being cooped .. up.[/color]" Her voice was jagged, and showing her great dislike for the fact that her brother actually had her stay inside of a room when the two of them were doing things. What, Asela was never sure of. Possibly getting information that they could possibly use, or something else, Aslea tried not to think too heavily on it.

The red eyed immortal girl was never placed under such pressure of someone much higher than herself, or someone that could possibly snap her neck with ease that she wouldn't be able to blink or think of the last happy memory. But the brown haired immortal tried to hold herself steady, not to give anything away at the mention of a gift. Her's was too powerful, it was.. possibly unheard of in such a way that her's was known to be. "No, Sir." She made it clear that she had heard him, she wanted to keep herself, Atticus and Cecilia safe. They meant more to her than the possibility of them knowing her gift, or the fact she lied to keep them safe. "I am the last of Atticus' family, he only means well." The tyrant known as her brother did it word by word as she said, that's all Atticus wanted, to save what last of frozen blood of their family was left in the world. The two of them were fully unaware if they possibly had any family roaming around, either immortal or flesh and blood.

Asela looked up at the moment the parchment was being thrown towards her. Call it a sixth sense that something was getting thrown at her. It felt weird in her fingers, it felt old, but new at the same time. As if time did touch it, but yet it remained fresh; just like them. "Thank you, Sir. It will be a pleasure to meet the rest of the Volturi." Asela lifted up her head, she remained blank as she should be, but yet on the inside she was showing the slight and faintest of smiles on her face mentally. That's when she was beginning to have second thoughts about actually telling the truth. Would it be better to save the rest of her family by admitting what was her gift?

She was conflicted.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font][/ul]

[/b] num
TAG; chey
NOTES; :3 wee.~
CREDITS; credit to callie![/ul][/size][/font]

[ALEC AMRIC VOLTURI]

Her eyes widened, and Alec felt a moment's satisfaction at that, which reflected in the pleased glimmer in his eyes. He wasn't overly concerned with doing his best marble statue impression at the moment, though it would have undoubtably gone well with their choice of location; after all, though people looked in awe upon marble statues, often regaling them high above reason and logic, there was remarkably little a statue could do, at the end of the day. They were nice to look at, undoubtably, but Alec had always hated the pensive stares that never changed, even as time wore them down. He held inklings of disdain for the Cullen vampire Edward as a result of that, finding the other vampire's constant need to imitate those old statues boring and utterly predictable on his part.

"What, do they keep you in a cage?" Alec asked then, raising one eyebrow, and though he didn't take a step close it was a hard impulse to ignore. He felt the urge to circle his prey, for indeed that was what she had become, and he was beginning to miss the swirl of the block cloak around his feet, though he knew it had been a good idea to leave it back at the castle. It had no purpose here, after all, and this game wouldn't have gotten as amusing as it had if it had been curling around his feet, like a second, useless skin.

"Bit odd, don't you think?" he said then, and though the condescension in his voice was so thick one could cut it with a knife, there was still a deliberate edge to it. "You're clearly no newborn. Why would they keep you 'cooped up'?" He did move them, and though the steps he took were towards her, he didn't reach other; didn't attack. Instead, he swept past her, his eyes sweeping the piece of parchment he had thrown in her direction, amused at the way she held it, like it were both an ancient, breakable relic and a worn family heirloom all at the same time. He kept his chuckle internal, though, instead choosing to sweep his eyes over the edge of the crumbling stones, resting one hand on the crumbling structure that was the Roman colosseum before he turned back to the girl.

"Are you going to open it?" The words that left his mouth were drawn out, and were he human he would have drummed his fingers against the creamy yellow-white stones under his skin. The girl was obviously speaking carefully now, to avoid angering him, as he noticed her make a more deliberate effort to not ignore anything he said, answering it all, as if one wrong word would spell her death at his hands; as if one cause for displeasure from him would result in him calmly removing her head from her shoulders. He smirked.

She was right.

Still, he found his mind returning to the jagged tone she had used when speaking about her "keepers", of sorts, and he compared it mentally to the carefully blank, respectful one she had used for her words spoken after. There was displeasure to be read in that tone, a lack of satisfaction with a current situation that Alec was all too familiar with, sometimes hearing that same tone in his beloved sister's voice when she was denied her kill, or when younger or lesser members of the Volturi guard questioned Aro's orders, or any of theirs, particularly when they were on missions. The displeasure was often followed by stifled screams of pain as her victims collapsed to the floor, of course, Alec silently clicking his tongue in mock-admonishment, but that was a minor (albeit much loved) detail.

He could use that displeasure. He knew he could.

"Oh, I'm sure, the way an owner will often keep expensive property locked up to ensure its value doesn't get dismissed, or that it doesn't get broken." He turned to face her fully again. "Intentions often turn into blood on the floor, though." He smiled mock-benignly again. "It seems to me your master's been keeping a lot of things from you. That could be dangerous, you know. Incredibly so. How sad it would be if that ignorance cost you your life; broke his prized possession. That is what you are though, right? His possession? That's why you speak so bitterly."

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

[/color]" Her eyes narrowed, she was beginning to become suspicious about her brother's original way how to get her to join him and Cecilia as immortals. She wasn't even feeling sick, she was ready to move on, but.. but Atticus returned at such a correct time.. Damn it all. "Like the humans say; a cage bird shall not sing." She wouldn't even speak half the time when in the company of her highers if they were involved with other covens, such as this.. ball. Atticus was surely to be angry right up until the facades were in place.

Shyly Asela looked at the unknown male, she still did not even catch his name. She was more than aware that he was part of the Volturi and that a name is the least of her problems when in his presence. She should respect him just for his status if anything; a name was not important if your surname or alliances were will the Volturi. When he mentioned why he may keep her cooped up, her mind zeroed in on her gift, he just wanted to keep her safe and his head off the chopping block with Cecilia. "Perhaps he can say at the Ball." Her voice was slick like ice with the mention of Atticus possibly attending to the Forever Young Ball hosted by this male's betters.

Her eyes widened a bit, not realizing that he wanted her to open up the parchment. Slowly nodding her head, she swept back her brown hair before she began to undo the seal with ease and not wanting to dare and try to rip it for just the sake of needing to quickly see the writing. It was black ink on the seemingly old piece of paper. It was inviting her, and anyone else who was given this letter, a welcome to the Forever Young Ball. If she had a heart, Asela would feel it beat faster and her face would blush a deep red for being allowed to attend something so grand and something so rare in her life time. Asela felt honored that a stranger for the Volturi would give it to her to begin with.

That's when Asela snapped, the very mention of her brother owning every thing about her, just.. it angered her to no point of ending. Snapping her head up, her voice was clearly directed towards the mere thought of her brother owning her; not the man. "I am not a piece of property! Atticus does not own anything of me, I paid my dues by staying loyal to my brother, he has ... he has no right." Her voice was reaching a higher point as she tried not to grip the parchment and basically destroying it by her seething anger. Her free hand was clutching and opening constantly as if Asela could feel her brother's cold skin underneath her grasp, she now oh so dearly wanted to scream at him.

"If I have to break for him to see that I'm not his, then so be it." Her red eyes were filled with the hate of the tyrant known as her brother. Six hundred years allowed these wounds to be rubbed with salt, to be hurt, to spread and become infected.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font][/ul]

[/b] num
TAG; chey
NOTES; :3 wee.~
CREDITS; credit to callie![/ul][/size][/font]