still standing [urhi]

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

[/color]" Asela was grinning with happiness, ignoring the mortal or possibly immortal glances people were sending her. She was a bit crazy, but not entirely. Old Age Vampire Syndrome hadn't settled in, she was sure it would probably take ten thousand years to settle into her over used brain. At one point though, Asela did stop and sat down outside a small cafe where it wasn't busy and took out the parchment paper from the Volturi Guard. It felt ancient but yet it looked nearly new, but it was still aged at the same time. She frowned, Atticus did not catch her yet with this item and she was to be sure of it. "What am I to do?" She wished to attend, to possibly find a way of life beyond the nomadic one she was living. Perhaps.. no, it was unlikely she'd find a male interested in her at this ball. Asela was beginning to believe her life would forever be nomadic.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font][/ul]

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

[Urhi Tudhaliyas]

He wasn't overly partial to London. The city was often shrouded in dark clouds, obscuring the sun that Urhi had grown up under, and though the clouds and the constantly spilling rain often brought cover, and with it the ability to walk in the daytime, Urhi found himself longing for the comforting burn of the sun on his eyes and the way the beams lit the path ahead of him. He may have been living for thousands of years, but inside he had always been a child of the sun, deriving pleasure from the rich agricultural fields and the rocky terrain of what had once been Hattusa. Even in his brief stint in Egypt he had come to love the sand that blew around the desert, often whipping the scarves Urhi had been forced to adorn around his head, pulling his two thin braids of of place where he had pinned them against his head, the only part of his hair he had refused to cut short. They were stil there, the braids, two thin ones tipped with gold at the end, hanging on the right side of his head, carefully hidden under the gauzy scarf he wore, pulled around his head like many of the others that walked the streets.

He was aware of the gazes he attracted as he walked--as a rule, Urhi tended to look rather out of place wherever he went, both due to his appearance as well as the natural grace with which he held himself--but he ignored them, migrated the busy streets of London, heavily populated even though the night had blanketed the city. To his left he could see patrons laughing in a small Italian restaurant, the couple by the window seat clinking their glasses together before both laughed, and a harried looking waitress, middle aged, scurried over to them, her mouth forming words Urhi didn't care to read.

He had travelled through London more than once in his many years of wandering, but he had never ventured forth much in the shadows. Before the city had burned to the ground under England's restoration king, it had been a myriad of wooden buildings and sewer-clogged streets, and when the blaze had started Urhi knew from reports and from vampires he had encountered who had fled that the blaze had burned for days. Of course, some good had come of it, as the rats of London had all been killed, and diseases like the plague had subsided for the moment, but London itself had changed drastically, with buildings being erected of stone instead of more wood.

Urhi paused in the street, stepping to the side so that the people still moving around in the district would not have to bump into him. London had certainly changed, but then again, what hadn't? Hattusa, the city he had grown up in, and the temples he had tended, were now little more than ruins in what was now known as Turkey, and the Egyptian Empire, their great enemies, had fallen just as surely as every other major empire had--Rome, the Byzantines, the Ottomans... It was the way of the world, he supposed, a world that kept changing even as Urhi wandered it, careful to never step foot in the centre. Once, he had gone back to Hattusa, and had stood at the edge of the Great Temple he had once run, back when there had been wals instead of just hazy blueprints on the ground. But Hattusa had been destroyed long before modern society had come up, razed to the ground at the collapse of the Bronze Age, and Urhi had only ever returned twice.

Reaching up, Urhi wrapped his scarf more securely around his head and neck, the two braids hanging at the side, framing his face, and Urhi was quick to tuck them back in, lest the glint of gold attract attention. The gold bracelets on his arms were equally hidden by dark sleeves, but Urhi's precaution didn't come from fear, but rather from a want to remain inconspicuous and murder-free that night.

He walked past many other small food businesses as he ventured around the Trafalgar Square area, smiling absently at the scent of the food as it drifted to him on the night air. But his attention was snagged as he walked by one of the many non-Costa cafes, his red eyes zeroing in on a figure that he hadn't seen in a long time--not since he had parted company with them centuries ago. Inclining his head, letting the gauzy scarf flutter across his cheek, Urhi made his decision, turning towards the cafe and navigating the small, simple tables as he slid into the empty seat across from the girl, a pleased smirk on his face as he placed his hands on the table, one reaching up to tug on one of the two braids that had come out of the scarf.

"Asela Kolm," he said, his voice smooth but containing a hint of genuine pleasure. "It has been far too long."

[Asela Ilar Kolm]

[/i] bright. "Urhi! It has been far too long." Asela was grinning, a grin that was very true for someone like herself. "How have you been?"[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font][/ul]

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

[Urhi Tudhaliyas]

He felt the smirk melt into a warm smile as she spoke to him, and for a moment he just sat back in his chair, enjoying the remnants of the familiar camaraderie they had once enjoyed all those years ago, when he had travelled with her and her brother, along with her brother's illusionist mate. Urhi's refusal to let her cloak him had, of course, caused a bit of grief, but from the start he and Atticus had not gotten along, and Urhi had simply not thought the relationship worth saving. He was a bit of a vain creature sometimes, after all, and he liked the glint of the gold he wore, and the way the two small braids swung at the side of his face; furthermore, he minded not the stares he would often receive, especially as he doubted he'd ever see the observers again. He would return to a location and they, their children, and possibly even their children's children would have been taken by the earth once again, like his civilisation had been eradicated by the sand so long ago.

Still, in the brief moments of travel he had come to enjoy Asela's company immensely, for though he pitied her and railed mentally against her brother for holding her under his thumb, she was still a remarkable young woman with a remarkable gift, and Urhi had never had any problem bestowing compliments where they were due, especially when he saw the potential for more beyond what was already present.

The smile still in place, Urhi allowed the satisfaction to manifest as a glint in his eyes--black, as he hadn't fed in awhile, but it fit in well with his appearance, though his original eye colour had once been green--as he listened to Asela speak, a sound he had not heard in a long while.

"It has indeed," he said, with the same pleasurable tone he had used when he had greeted her. His fingers drummed an absent tune against the table in front of him, though he was by no means distracted. He smile became more disarming as he readied himself to speak again, his satisfaction with the situation clear in every movement he made, him making absolutely no attempt to hide it for even one second. Hiding emotion was something that a vampire like Aro Volturi did, or the enigmatic Nikolai Belanov, whose name was becoming bigger and bigger in the underground world as word of the Volturi's support for him got out.

"I have been bereft of your company, and that in itself is enough to make anyone a little down," he said, his tone light and teasing, one he had used several times in the past. It was a habit of his to tease those his became fond of, and it was one he had used on individuals such as his current coven leader, as well as a scant few others he had come across in his travels. "Ah, but I have been content, nevertheless. Currently the Saint Vampire has taken my wayward self under her wing, and I have been staying there for close to a century now, I suppose, or however long the coven has been running. Honestly, I lose track of time." He made a slightly dismissive gesture at that, for his tendency to disregard time was well known to those who had ever met him. When one lived for over three thousand years, on learned not to count the individual years. When he needed to, he would hazard a guess on the century, but it was rare, and the guesses were often half-hearted. After all, he found he started to get antsy when time was brought up, and in the end it was just far easier to let it slip by his hands like water through a sieve.

"It's my turn to ask that question now, I believe," he continued, leaning over the table slightly, his eyes having earlier caught on the peace of parchment that Asela had been so engrossed in, to the point where she had not even noticed him until he had spoken. Urhi clicked his tongue in disapproval at that, though the playful glint in his eyes became more serious as his eyes caught onto the name signed on the bottom, in a signature so needlessly flourished that it was all Urhi could do to prevent himself from snorting in laughter.

"Oh my, Asela Kolm, it seems you've made some friends since I was gone," Urhi intoned, his voice a little more serious as he looked back at her. "Now, what have you been doing to warrant an invitation to Aro Volturi's little ball? I'm going to assume Atticus, in his all-knowing wisdom, has not yet found out, or you would no longer be in possession of that pretty little piece of parchment." A ghostly smile flickered briefly across his face as he reached into the pockets of his shirt and pulled out a matching, albeit slightly more wrinkled, piece of paper. "My own coven has been ordered forth to attend, but, no, that wasn't the case with yours, now was it?"