Fountain of Knives (Valence)

[Valence Nightingale]

Returning the look with a more pensive gaze, Val replied, "Indeed. But ah, reason is left up to the interpretation of whomever approaches a situation, is it not?" Grinning a bit, Val turned his gaze back from her, and to his feet on the ground. Was that truly the case? Val's reasoning and Vanessa's reasoning were drastically different, though it could be said both used reason. Vanessa, for the good of the law and herself and her companions; Val, for himself and for his personal benefit. Perhaps she was right, kidding or not... How could he wish for compassion when he only ever looked out for himself?

Her psychobabble, as he wanted to consider it as, regardless of the fact that it wasn't, was getting to his core. Not only was she hard to read, she was manipulative. Val couldn't determine whether or not it was intentional, but either way, it was there. Another interesting fact was that her manipulating him was attractive. No other human being had once been able to dissuade Val from his life's choices until now. There was something very peculiar for certain with this woman...

Val brought a hand up to his chin, and rested his jaw on his fist. "Hmm," he pondered aloud as the rupee he tossed in was retrieved by this pseudo police officer. He eyed it, then he eyed her, then he lowered his arm and sighed heavily. Leaning back, Val addressed her again. "Whatever I am, be it human or monster, a wish is a wish... And these second chances don't always have a happy ending. After all, I am a criminal. What would you say if I devoted my second chance to the same thing I've been doing all my life?" Val chuckled a bit more openly, flashing the woman a bright smile. He was serious, but his tone was light and carefree.

Turning himself sideways, now sitting on the fountain edge like a horse saddle, Val let one of his legs dangle right into the water. The young man faced his potential enemy with a smug but amused look in his bright orange eyes. "Perhaps it's not," The devious thief answered, flashing a few teeth. "But I do many things I shouldn't." He did catch her implication of the statement, but responded with as much of a joke as she'd given. Seemingly ignoring her larger point vocally, though he did mentally consider it, Val continued, "You know, you're not the best liar. I could teach you to lie better, if you're willing to learn. But I am Valence Nightingale, my dear, and you cannot fool me." His inflection suggested that he was being jokingly arrogant, but he knew something wasn't right.

Something, though he couldn't put a finger on what it was, told Val there was a deeper, more meaningful reason for her avoiding an explanation, and diligent as he was, Val intended on finding out.

[VANESSA FERRE]

† The Look of Knives Within the Fountain

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“Dear Valence, you misunderstand me. Intention may be interpreted, but reason may not.” She quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he was following, “But reason is not infallible.” And Vanessa laughed out loud; the conversation was amusing enough as it never provided an answer -- nothing really ever provided her enough food for thought. “As for right and wrong reason, I suppose it’s still up to Lady Fortune! It seems she favors you tonight.” There was an interesting ring to his words -- what to think of a person who squanders his second chance upon a life of a criminal?

Was it squandering at all? This man lived for himself, and for that, Vanessa was somewhat envious, but knew the eyes of her sword would never let her live it down. What as it like to worry about only the self; was it easier or harder? Day in and day out she was to serve to people, the Royal Family, Claymore, but there was hardly time to herself, and when she did acquire such a luxury, it was spent honing the art of the sword. Survival. She let out a breath as a fainter smile touched her lips, a smile that never said too much but always said just enough. “I suppose I should reprimand you and say, ‘Valence! How dare you waste such an opportunity! ‘Tis foolish to toss about such a rare chance.’”

She waited a bit to touch it with more thought as she leaned back, supporting her weight behind her, eyes closing as if basking in the twilight. “But it would be unlike me. So, I would say nothing. It is neither of my interest nor of my place. And I don’t expect you to be foolish enough to let someone dictate your path, hm?” And they wouldn’t be meeting for idle chit-chat, but they were now. Would it be so different the next time? It would have to be; she never gave a third. The Knight threw a little smirk in his direction. “Really! You do many things you aren’t supposed to? Like fraternizing with the enemy?” A light laugh this time, full of mirth, life -- it seemed she was always on tilt, caught between brimming with energy and down-trodden into the dirt.

“Well, aren’t you a sharp one? Then I suppose I should get a little better at this art -- how useful it would be.” She turned to face the assassin with half-hearted lips upturned and silver eyes that were still just as cool as steel. One leg dangled off the edge and the other folded upon the fountain’s edge to keep from the splashing water. She pressed her hand against the wavering surface of water and watched the ripples wash over her fingers with an absent stare. And it was true, there was nothing she could wish for. “It is strange, isn’t it -- to have no wish? Or at least, no wish for the self.” His foot in the water, her hand in the water.

A fountain of knives -- he was stepping upon knives, she was gripping their blade. The lightness returned to her voice but without the life from before and with it in tow, the heaviness of her crest. “A Knight’s life is never her own, you know, and so wishing is a pointless, silly little thing to us.” Though it was true, many Knights were happy doing as they do or perhaps having people to protect. But many join the guard or the knights as civil service, for a low pay to feed a family or themselves with nothing but their swords -- the others become criminal for the very same reason. “Or perhaps it is merely that I don’t know what to wish for. Perhaps I had a wish before.” She laughed it off. What a silly thought.

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tags: valence, vanessa
word count: 640
notes: ;w;

[Valence Nightingale]

Val gave one soft laugh and an equally soft smile. "Perhaps you're right. But if reason cannot be interpreted, that would make it something of one and one only concentration; reason would therefore not be ambiguous, and I find in my line of work that it is. Or, perhaps, if I am wrong, then the reason I claim to have clung so tightly to in doing my work is fallible indeed. And if that be the case, might I be dammed." Val laughed a little louder, pleased with the woman and her clever mind, and interested greatly now not only in Vanessa, but in himself.

He was a rational, logical man. She seemed to be so as well, but if that were the case, why were they on opposite sides? Val pondered. It could have been that the intention behind the reasoning, which was thereby interpretative, differed greatly. Indeed, Val looked out for himself first, others never. She looked out for others first, herself often never. Strange it was, though Val knew why; she had been tainted, if that was even the right word, by the law. Looking back to her through his bright orange eyes, Val thought that maybe it wasn't a taint. She had, after all, chosen her path, and he his. Could both be happy?

Val knew he was happy, but with every comment the woman made, Val contemplated Vanessa's happiness. If she wasn't happy, she put on a proficient disguise, but something still wasn't right. Maybe there was indeed something in her life holding her back, and Val felt pity on her if that be the case. "Fortune favors the brave." He said matter-of-factly, though the cliche statement wasn't too far off. Val had little to no fear, which he had proved by approaching the most infamous Knight guard in the city. Alone.

With the tone lightened by her voice, however, Val shot her an amused smile. "Ah, reprimands indeed. How I deserve them. And also how kind of you not to give me what I deserve. I can't say it makes you the most lawful Knight in your order, but since Fortune has chosen to favor me, I must say I am quite pleased." He chuckled. "No... My path is my own. And while it may be a path that is frowned upon, it is mine. If it is a path destiny hath given me, then by your gods, I will defy it. If it is a path I have chosen, I will follow it to the grave. And I do believe it to be the latter." He met her eyes as she looked his way, and couldn't help but laugh a little with her.

Suddenly, Val gave a heavy sigh. The curious glee that was commonly in his eyes faded for a mere second. He felt sorrow, he felt anguish. Though, a normal human might call it compassion. Val had never known what it was like to lead a life not one's own, and for Vanessa, clever as she was, to have dedicated herself to a nobler cause, she had given her life to the greater good, where he had not. Val was not displeased with himself; instead, he felt sympathy for Vanessa, as he earnestly wished for all humankind to dictate their own paths. If fate was real, which Val did not believe it was, it was a cruel, cruel mistress. Almost sullenly, with a fake amused inflection, Val added, "If you had a wish before, you have a wish now." His eyes drifted over and met hers again.

"No wish for the self would imply you have wishes for others. But if your entire life is dedicated to helping others, how can you help yourself? What will you be when Death comes to pull you to the grave? You will be a hollow shell of a person that served no self-seeking purpose. Noble, perhaps, but with no personal ambitions, no desire to become someone that the world will remember as a unique individual, you won't become anything more than another police officer... And, Vanessa," Val's eyes drifted away, "I must admit that, if it wasn't already painstakingly obvious, I'm quite taken with you. And it is unfortunate, but it is also true, that when we next meet, you will be required to kill me, and I will be required to slip away like I always do. You are the law, I am the criminal. And so, wishing is never silly. Wishing has gotten me this far... and I wouldn't change a thing about my life. Or my wishes."

Val tossed the rupee back in the fountain, and it made a soft splash, then floated gently to the bottom, once more joining all of the rupees that held the wishes of many.

[VANESSA FERRE]

† The Look of Knives Within the Fountain

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It was nothing she didn’t know -- resignation was even more of a monster than ennui or apathy as the latter items created the former. “You are damned.” And that much was obvious; the man was labelled as a criminal for goddesses sake. She listened with intent -- it was also not anything new she had heard which was funny as the sparkle returned to her silvery gaze. She had heard Knights speak of the very same thing, young recruits, even younger boys in their adolescent years.

“Oh? The words of a true Knight -- to choose his own path and to follow it to the grave.” But this was not a boy, it was a man speaking, which was interesting. A man who was able to live out his ideals. She smiled as if satisfied with something, as for what, only she knew. “If I had a wish now, I’d tell you. If I had a wish now, then I must have forgotten it somewhere along the line of saving damsels and livestock and villages, or slaying dragons and ogres and undead things.” Though she said it with nonchalance, her eyes spoke otherwise. It was true. A forgotten wish was difficult to retrieve as one had lost even the hope to wish.

Sincerity struck her voice now as she turned to meet his persimmon gaze, “And what’s wrong with that? Thus is the path I have been given, and I have no desire for a face or a footprint upon this world. After all, a print upon this earth is merely a print upon sand.” Her voice turned mirthful once more, “I am not one for attention, you know.” But she became serious again almost all too quickly, “This path is mine such as your path is yours. One can say a person only has their paths.”

His next set of words -- from where they came, she had no idea -- struck the chords of her heart. It was impossible for her to return his feelings as of now, but they resonated with her. Someone felt something for her. It was the most that she has ever received asides from Claymore and the gift of sight. Though she did fancy the assassin for his wit and cunning -- she could respect those traits, yes --, it would hardly be efficient, practical, logical, rational, reasonable... She looked down, a little awkwardly, unknowing how to reply for the time being.

“My...that is unfortunate. Then fortune seems to have turned her back even upon the brave.” Something struck at her heartstrings, but she couldn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was sadness for the loss of a chance, a chance that slipped through her fingers much like air through a sieve. If she wasn’t a Knight, if he wasn’t a criminal, there would be chance. Her voice was sullen now with a little sense of lightheartedness, “Then, should I wish for us to never meet again?” Silver searched for persimmon, she certainly didn’t want to kill him -- it would be a waste.

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tags: valence, vanessa
word count: 505
notes: --

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[Valence Nightingale]

Strange though it was, the fiery, curious gleam of his orange eyes, and his amused smirk returned to Val's face with every word the Knight spoke. Though he hadn't yet lied to her, Vanessa's response was nothing short of exactly what Val expected. And perhaps it was his sole intention to break away at her walls, but even when he tried, he couldn't deny that he found himself attempting other intentions as well. It amused him, if anything. She was exactly what Val needed-- a witty ear and tongue to match his own, even if only for a night.

"Ah," Val said, meeting her eyes, a devious type of spark in his bright orange eyes, "and that is indeed what the lawful world can do: crush your dreams." Cynical though it may have been, Val's statement resonated with a sense of severity and seriousness, regardless of the fact that he was, by nature, a cynical person. "The world, if it is anything, is not sand. In fact, I'd call it marble, and when I am dead and gone, I will have constructed a grand marble palace... It won't be a palace people remember and visit fondly, but it shall be a palace... That, I can promise you. A palace for the damned-- the most damned." The young hunter chuckled, leaning back on the fountain's edge.

It was truly noble not to desire attention, and while Val was often a sarcastic person, he did honestly admit to himself that he loved attention; not because he wanted to be noticed, but because it amused him. The reactions of many after being stolen from, the reactions of the law that could never catch him, it all made Val exceedingly happy. The only thing that didn't was when people weren't happy with themselves.

Unfortunately, Val couldn't tell whether Vanessa was happy with herself, and he was wiser than to ask if she was. At some point, Val concluded, he would ask her, but tonight was not the night, nor the time, to do so. Instead, he addressed her point. "If you leave a footprint in the sand, your deeds will be forgotten. And if they will be forgotten, even by those to whom you have done good, what will your life have meant? I can't speak to the light, the good, the kind, the whole, the perfect things in life, but I can speak to the evil, the vile, the detested, the frowned-upon... The immoral. It's less that I want to be remembered, actually, and more that I want to impact this world, for better or worse. After all..." Val trailed off, his gaze drifting to Vanessa, then up to the moon, then back to his feet.

"There can be no good without evil."

The statement struck Val as odd in itself, because he had perhaps accidentally implied that he respected the law and its place, but his whole life had been in disobedience. Though, it had to be said that his statement was certainly true, as without evil, there could be no good. But even Val couldn't decide how he felt about purposefully keeping "good" in the world...

To clear his head, he temporarily convinced himself that everything he had done thus far, he had done for only himself. The man chuckled, and then stood, stretching his catlike limbs out. "I don't need fortune." Val added, smiling smugly at Vanessa. He could tell she was pensive about something, and he could only wonder what about. Perhaps her question was more than another clever remark on her part.

"Wish for whatever you want, but you and I both know that you being part of your Order means I am nothing more than an enemy. There will come a time when you will be faced with the opportunity to kill me, and we shall see how strong your will and dedication are." Jokingly again, Val winked at her. "And I say that because, dear Vanessa, this is far from the last time you will see me. If I don't want you to find me, you will not. But if I want to be found..."

[VANESSA FERRE]

† The Look of Knives Within the Fountain

Vanessa thought for a moment and laughed, “A palace made of marble, you say? How grand -- almost fitting for a king, a king of the damned!” To leave behind a legacy -- what did that mean? To the Knight it meant nothing; she had nothing to prove and was content to just walk through life. She brought out a rupee and held it up in the moon’s light, watching it glint, watching the soft rays light the heart of emerald, and she thought this was her second rupee tonight.

The man was an idealist, but it was unfortunate for many people that he was an idealist from the darker spectrum as, no doubt, this ideal drove him to take. Unlike Valence, Vanessa held his person within her gaze and gripped his visage with vice-like mercury as she spoke with a wry smile, “Of course there can be no good without evil. But there must be balance with struggle, otherwise there is stagnation or chaos.” She flipped her hand with nonchalance, still keeping the rupee glimmering between deft fingers. “It just so happens that we’re on different sides, as you say. Which is for the better -- who else would cause trouble for me; I’d be most gripped with ennui without you.” A feigned look of horror briefly crossed her features before a look of carefree mirth returned to her countenance.

This man was certainly funny, flirting almost. But of course as a Knight, she had to refrain from such activities, not that she particularly cared for them though the exchange of tongues entertained her. Even if it was for a mere moment. So, the option of faux arrogance presented itself in exchange for his words. “And if I wanted to find you, Valence, I would have, but if I did not...well, I can’t speak for one who wants to be found.” She laughed again, this time with a bitter ring. If she were given another chance to kill him, it would not be her choice, but her tongue shall play along for now, “Then perhaps I shall wish for the determination and will to bring my sword upon your neck.”

The cuckoo cried, its voice echoing through the town, colliding with walls of stone and wood; the sun followed suit in a wave of orange and gold, striking color into dust, wiping the sleep from the streets. Vanessa got up, fixing her uniform, adjusting the holster. “Time flies regardless of what you’re doing -- I must be going. The pleasure is yours today, Valence.” She walked passed him with a slight smirk and an even slighter wave. Flipping the rupee within her palms, she called back, “My wish...as you asked, is to have no wishes.” With a little chuckle, she tossed the rupee into the fountain without looking back.

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[Valence Nightingale]

"Ah, a palace fit for a king, where the king only lives-- alone, as he always will." Val mused, prideful of his position above the common thief and murderer, proud that his line of work was what he and he alone was best at. He knew, and was glad, that the other criminals looked up to him, regardless of the fact that Val knew he had more class and elegance than any of them, which was likely why he had yet to be caught. And yet the young man knew that if any of the Force had the ability to catch him, it was Vanessa. He'd heard stories about her, and now he'd met her, and was convinced that she could very well detain and/or kill him if she desired.

Normally it would have been discouraging, but to someone like Valence Nightingale, the thought filled him to the brim with happiness, excitement, and amusement.

He offered a soft chuckle. "Yes, balance. That's what the world looks for. No, my dear, unfortunately, your world looks for an imbalance of more good than evil, and when that day finally comes, the world may actually miss me." Val joked, shooting Vanessa a light, hearty smile. "And without you, I'm afraid I'd have no fun. Why, I might even turn myself in if there weren't a soul to catch me. What fun is crime, after all, with no punishment?"

Unfortunately, he too became aware of the approaching dawn. As the Knight stood, preparing to depart, Val stayed motionless, comfortably relaxed on the edge of the fountain. He did look up to meet her eyes as she spoke, and at first visually responded, his orange orbs flickering with a spark of amusement. "Indeed, the pleasure is mine," the young man shot back with a laugh, appreciating her cleverness once more. "And I shall perhaps draw a target on my neck, that you might slide through my throat with greater ease!"

When she was long gone, Val stood. The common people hadn't yet come out into the streets, but even so, Val knew when it was time to escape. Taking one last look into the fountain, he missed the night's chat. "Wishes..." He muttered to himself, "how trivial."

With expert quickness and a catlike grace, Val quickly ascended the nearest rooftop and dashed from building to building, until he was once more out of sight.

-exit-