Beyond the Myth

He didn't appreciate the fact that she was so outright suspicious of him. It was off-putting. Not really, but it probably should have been. She told him not to enjoy himself too much and he grinned cheekily. "Oh, don't worry, I certainly will!" He told her brightly, and then he was moving into the next room, knocking over naked mannequins, making sure they didn't break upon impact, and bolts of cloth were strewn about. He was going to be making his life hell, because he was sure that by morning they'd be rioter-less and he'd have to follow through on cleaning up. He winced as something iron came in contact with his hand, leaving a small cut. Magazines were tossed around for good measure, and he found himself grinning. Oh, what it took to entertain a faerie. Destruction, even in the smallest amounts. PJ walked back in time to hear her grumblings, shutting the door to the small room and flicking the lock, just to be on the safe side.


He laughed outright at her words, and he knew it was far funnier to him than it aught to have been. "Sorry. Really, I'm not normally the type to eaves drop, it's just, well. I've got no excuse." He told her, and then flopped back on the couch, not really caring about politeness. He wouldn't be sitting there, hands folded in his lap and ankles crossed. It wasn't his style, which he wasn't really sure he had anyhow. Maybe he was more relaxed about this whole thing because he was a faerie. On the other hand, it might have been not having to worry about anyone he loved dying, because they were few and far between, as well as the ones behind this brilliant war. He wiped his bleeding hand on his jeans, glamouring it away before it became noticeable. He couldn't get rid of the cut, but he could get rid of the evidence, and he had every intention of doing so. He didn't like sympathy and being coddled, it made him feel claustrophobic.


He stood after a little while of silence, growing nosy once more and poking his head over her shoulder to see her work. It was probably distracting to her, but it wasn't for him. He tried to be sneaky about his finger brushing her neck, but hey, that was easier said than done when he couldn't blame it on the wind. There wasn't much airflow in the room, so that was just going to have to be part of it. PJ could do this until morning. It probably would help with her focus too, not that he was going to tell her that much. He was sure to be looked at like a weirdo, but you know, sometimes those were the best kind of person you could ever hope to meet.
 
Maddie averted her eyes as she saw her studio being messed up. It wasn't always the most organized place, but now it was a downright mess. Which, she supposed, was the point. Still, PJ was enjoying himself a littletoo much and she hoped what he was doing was enough to keep away looters. Either way, she would hold him to that promise that he's going to clean it up afterwards. "Ha Ha, yeah sure, laugh at my expense. Just remember, you're trapped in here with me," she said as he came back in laughing. She supposed that she should be concerned that she was locked away in a small room with a man that was a total stranger up until today, but PJ had more than shown that he was safer than anyone outside of her front door at the moment so she couldn't really muster up the will to care. Besides, right now, her biggest concern -- more than the rioters and more than the strange man in the room -- was getting this dress down because this beading was taking forever.

Maddie tensed up at the strange sensation that made her hair stand on end as she once again felt her anger simmer down and disappear. She reached up behind her neck and placed a hand where PJ had touched. Then, she looked back to see said man hovering behind her. "If you needed something, all you had to do was say something," she said with a glare. The feeling of his ghost touch felt odd to say the least, though she couldn't deny that she wasn't as angry as she should be and that in fact, she was in a bit more pleasant mood which she couldn't possibly understand how. She should be irritated as hell right now. Though when she looked at the hand that had brushed against the back of her neck, she realized that he was injured and she forgot about her current suspicion for a moment. "Oh shit," she mumbled looking at the cut on PJ's hand. "Did you cut yourself in the studio? Here, let me take care of that, that looks like it hurts like a bitch," she insisted unmindful of her current swearing streak and grabbing his hand and reaching for one of the small first aid kits she kept in the small cabinet by the couch. She always kept it on hand since she had a tendency to poke herself with needles constantly, or in worse case, get a deep cut from her rotary cutter. Needless to say, Maddie had all the necessary supplies ready.

She grabbed some rubbing alcohol, dragging PJ by the hand back to the couch, not paying attention as to how he may feel about it, and rubbed it gently against his palm. Then, she took a sterile pad, but frowned when she realized she had no tape in the kit to keep it in place. "Oh!" she said, getting a sudden idea and reaching into her pile of supplies. She pulled out a strip of simple black scrap cloth and as gently as she could, wrapped it around the man's hand. "There," she declared finally and proudly, " we wouldn't want you bleeding all over my dress, now would we?"
 
He'd found great enjoyment from knocking things over, and came to the sudden understanding as to why the faeries liked to do it for fun. Besides to watch the humans squirm, stomping around in frustration as they tried to determine if anything had been stolen and who'd knocked over their stuff, scattering it around the room haphazardly. He had been satisfied that no one would be coming into her little studio tonight, but he couldn't guarentee anything. Humans weren't afraid of faeries like they should have been, they either embraced them or didn't believe in their existance at all. Which was the greater of the two evils, he really couldn't say. "Don't worry, I'm well aware of that fact." He told her with a cheeky grin, shrugging. "Shouldn't you be sewing or something, not mouthing off to my being a natural pain in the ass?" He taunted, and then made sure he wasn't within slapping distance. He wouldn't put it past someone to do anything of that sort, in most cases he deserved it all too much.


She moved her hand to touch where his finger had brushed, taking away the anger she felt with hardly anything at all. He enjoyed it, even though it wasn't exactly to his tastes. He was fonder of the other emotions over this one, but hey, whatever would do in a fix. It wasn't that he needed the nourishment, it was that he wanted it. She seemed confused and he could grasp that, understanding how irritating it probably was. She had no reason for the anger to escape her grasp, yet it had and now she was back to where she'd begun. It was a pain in the ass, but there was little to be done about it. She was the one that had unknowingly let a faerie into her studio, who'd managed to trap himself in (be it on purpose or otherwise). She saw the cut on his hand, and insisted on caring for it. "It'll heal. It's not deep." He informed her moodily, brow furrowing at her being more stubborn than he was. "Doesn't hurt at all." He muttered, clenching his jaw unhappily. He was bending to her will? Now, there was something wrong with this picture in his opinion, but he just took it like an old pro. PJ was used to this kind of thing. She had a good hold on his hand as she reached for a first aid kit. "I don't need one of those." He'd lost all hope of convincing her otherwise, seeing as she was already intent on what she was doing.


He followed after her, as he was rather attached to his hand. Unlike lizards, he couldn't grow back a lost appendage. He winced at the alcohol in his cut. "This is absolutely unnecessary." He said, watching as she looked for tape to hold her gauze pad in place. He tried to tug his hand free, and then she had an idea. He was then patched up, a black cloth tied tightly around his hand. "Thank you. I guess." He glanced at her oddly. "You won't even let me be by the dress for any extended period of time, remember?! It's always 'Nosy, aren't you?'" He teased, unfazed by his losing fight.
 
PJ's arguments fell on deaf ears as Maddie patched up his hand. She could be quite stubborn when she wanted to be, and right now, she wanted to be. After all, she would have felt guilty if she had done nothing about it, especially something so trivial as cleaning up a cut. She had all the supplies necessary, and when she finished, she couldn't help but admire her excellent handiwork. Maddie laughed as he pointed out that she wouldn't even let him near the dress. "True, but you didn't have to me so much as I tried to help you," she huffed, sending some of the hair by her face flying upwards. "And besides, I had every right to be concerned with the way you hover over my shoulder every few minutes as I work. You're just like a child," she commented, as she finally released PJ's hand and moved back to her little stool she placed by the table.

She took the beads and the needle again and began the repetitive and rhythmic process of beading, making sure everything was done perfectly. As she did this, she spoke. "So I talked enough about myself," she started, "tell me about you, PJ." She found herself in a much lighter mood now, and she could easily focus on sewing and talking at the moment. Besides, talking to PJ took her mind off of what was happening right outside her doors. The noise from the storm and riots was too loud to ignore and it sounded like the police wouldn't be arriving any time soon. She didn't want to think about what that would mean for her and for the man in the room with her. In fact, Maddie just wanted to take her mind off of the whole thing. She'd worry about it later when she was finished with the dress and didn't have to worry about her concerns affecting the quality of her clothing.
 
She kept her eyes on his hand, probably impressed with herself. Even he would admit that she'd done a good job for not being a professional at this sort of thing. He tugged at the cloth a bit, not the best patient that she could possibly hope for. Madeline had laughed, and he thought of this as a compliment, because she was so serious. It didn't mean she always was, but she was the type of person that most probably found intimidating when she was determined to finish something. Personally, PJ was amused by her. She was peculiar, and that was not necessarily a bad thing in this case. "I hover but I don't touch!" He exclained, "And you aren't too far off on the child thing." He mumbled. Being in his twenties when he had double the life span of any average human, this was his childhood. Adults still called him 'imp' and 'kid' even though he was more accomplished than more of them. She let his hand drop to his lap and returned to her table and stool.


She moved in his seat so he could watch the needle move in and out of the cloth, each bead placed with a care he probably would never manage to have. It wasn't something he had ever tried, but perhaps he'd found a new person to visit if he ever needed his real clothes to have a button sewed on. Sure, the dated clothes would surely be a conversation to be had, but he was a strange man, if she hadn't come to understand that yet. She wanted to hear about him, and he looked at her with a tilted head. What about himself? "Um. I'm 23 years old with no direction in life. I'll probably join my other family members in dying over worthless causes, battling things that aren't worth defeating." He said with a shrug. She could take that as she pleased, he was from a line of warriors for the Winter court, so his being a Dark court fey was all the more reason to stay away from the fighting. Killing them was something he couldn't bear to do.
 
Maddie snorted. "Yeah because I don't let you get that close to it," she said, momentarily pausing to look at him with a mock expression of exasperation. Still, when the topic of conversation changed, she grew silent and hummed in acknowledgement to show that she was still listening. At his words, Maddie's brow furrowed. Did PJ always speak in riddles? She couldn't help but wonder. His comments seemed to both answer her questions yet avoid them at the same time. She had never met someone that could do that before, and nearly instant too. As if it were a second nature. It both intrigued and made her slightly wary for his words were up to interpretation and Maddie was left to fill in the blanks. But, she noted, these times were tough and people have their own reasons for being vague about things in their lives. She had only just met the man today and he had a right to keep things private.

Maddie pondered the meaning of his words. "So I'm guessing you and your family were in the military?" she said finally, coming to the conclusion that he had lost some people in the battlefield. And if that were the case, no wonder he was so vague about telling her. "You know, I almost joined the military when I graduated high school," she said aloud, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "I wanted to go right on the front lines. Especially these days, when it seemed like people really needed protection," she went on.
 
"I wouldn't have touched it anyways. Last time I came close to it you looked like you were a disappointed mother." He told her with a smirk. In a way, his telling her anything about himself that could be used against him in the future, was dangerous, not only for him but for her as well. PJ didn't want Madeline to be hurt, he found her interesting. She was probably the most accepting human he'd ever encountered, and he'd met many of those in his time, be it men or women. He kept his explanation vague and to the point, letting her use her imagination on the rest. While she probably wouldn't come close to the truth, it was good enough to give her a bit of... peace of mind? Maybe that was what he'd aimed for. PJ wasn't willing to do anything but see how well she managed to sum up what he'd informed her of.


"I wasn't, and I guess you could say they were military." He said, playing with a piece of his hair, twirling it between his fingers, probably leaving it at an odd angle when he ceased what he was doing and looked at her with curiosity. "What would a fashion designer be doing in a war?" He asked her skeptically. He was sure that wasn't what she'd intended to do in it, but the serious mood had gotten to him already, and getting a rise out of her seemed like the perfect reason for a mood change. She couldn't really do much to him, probably would just roll her eyes and go on with beading.
 
Maddie nodded, deeming that the answer, though still vague was acceptable. She wouldn't push any further, and she felt like doing so wouldn't really get him to answer her questions. In fact, she felt that if she was insistent, his response would answer less and make her question more. PJ had an air of mystery to him that is rare to see in your average person. It intrigued her and she wanted to learn more. Clearly, the man was beyond average and seemed to have an eccentric character, but Maddie had a feeling there was much more to it than that. What that entailed, she had no idea, but she was curious nonetheless. "Are they still in what you can say is the military?" she asked.

At PJ's own question, she looked up at him and smiled slightly. "Designing new uniforms," she said sarcastically, though not without the hint of a smile turning up the corners of her lips. She brought her eyes back to her beading, thinking about the confusing time she had post-high school where she wanted to make an impact on the world. "I can be pretty uptight and bossy. I think I would have done pretty good on the front lines or commanding in the military like my dad had," she half-joked, though it carried an undertone of complete seriousness. "Either way, I was lost and all I knew was that I wanted to do something that would make a difference. But let's be realistic here," she continued, taking a deep breath. "I would have died out there, just like thousands of others and it wouldn't have changed a damn thing. I didn't want to be just another casualty that only a few people would care to remember." Had that happened, her death would have been so worthless. She would have been too young and without having done anything worthwhile with her life other than die for her country. "I would be happier to die right here and right now sewing this dress than I would have been a thousand miles away from home in the middle of a battlefield." Maddie's mind went back to that time, for a moment. She loved what she did more than anything, it was truly her passion. In fact, another big reason she wanted to join the military is because they would have paid for her schooling. Sometimes she thought that if she had managed to survive a year overseas and come back home to study, she would be able to focus on her studies without having to worry about debt and making money and even getting this dress done by tomorrow evening while there was a horde of rioters at her doorstep. But, her mind interrupted, bringing her attention back to the present, everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?
 
She accepted what he had to say, which was probably a good thing. Handling that kind of thing wasn't his cup of tea, and he wasn't exactly a good liar for obvious reasons. He looked at her easily when she asked if they were still in the military. Ah, good question. He looked at her and shrugged. "Not really. You see, in my family, family doesn't matter." He told her simply. It was true, he'd been dropped at a nursery with all the other faerie children, and his parents resumed life, probably never seeing one another again. "They were more interested in dying valiantly than they were about how anyone else would feel about it. Needless to say, they are no more."


He smiled brilliantly, rolling his eyes at her sarcasm. "You never know. Maybe they would have seen your true calling and told you to get out." He told her with a laugh and then looked around the room. Not much to look at beside Madeline, and he didn't know how she felt about people staring at her for any extended period of time. "Oh, yes. I could tell." PJ said, smirk replacing his grin. She knew how to dish out orders, at least for him, and take control of a situation without a bat of an eye. It was a talent, really. "You would have, because the government has a bunch of people fighting against something that is utterly inevitable. Feeding a flame with hopes that it would never take, that another match would be needed to set it alight. Now, all is going to be lost because of stupidity on all parts." He stated this as though it were simple, and undoubtably correct. He was, as there were too many faeries in this world to not have crossed paths and made deals with senators and other politicians, all just sitting around and hoping for the best. "If it's any consolation, I'm glad you aren't going to die tonight." He was confident in that. If need be, he'd show his true form over doing something like standing by and letting the faeries kill her. They were pains in the ass for him when he was trying to accomplish anything, even if it was nailing down a good feeding source at some point in time. A bang outside made him wince, but he was pretty sure it was just smashing metal. Nothing of importance, no bombs and no walls being broken down like a poorly made horror film that he'd seen once. PJ stpped talking for a minute then, not really wanting to distract her from finishing her beadwork in time to make that woman feel beautiful. It was a strange thing to need to feel confident, but masks were always called for in this world of theirs.
 
"Oh..." Maddie murmured to PJ's words, just a whisper that could easily be missed. She didn't know what to say to something like that. It sounded like his family wanted the glorious death of a warrior. It reminded her of the Greeks who so eagerly ran into battle to bring honor to their families and their own name. Yet PJ said himself that his family didn't care about them. At the mention of how his family didn't care what anyone else felt about their dying 'valiant deaths,' she looked up at the man. "How did you feel about it?" she blurted before she had time to wonder whether her question was too personal. From the way he spoke, it sounded like PJ didn't care about his family and his family didn't care about him. But there was something more to it than that. Though, on the other hand, Maddie could just be looking into it too much.

Maddie fidgeted under PJ's gaze, unused to having people stare at her, but she kept her eyes focused on the garment to listen to what he had to say. She cracked a smile at his firm agreement that she was bossy. She wasn't that bad, was she? But then again, Maddie had a tendency to get swept up in whatever she was doing and throw a fit when it wasn't going her way. So perhaps she really was that bossy. She nodded along with what he said. "It's not that I don't appreciate what the soldiers have done and are doing," Maddie started, "but you're right. Times are tough and I don't know what's going to happen to this world. All I know is that people are dying every day here, in the very place we call home." She didn't want to think about how many people had probably died in the chaos of the riots tonight either, but she knew those could get pretty violent -- especially once the police got involved. She shuddered. "We're destroying ourselves and I want no part of that," she stated finally.

"That's very comforting to hear," she said with a wry smile. "I'm glad you're not dying tonight either." A crash outside momentarily made Maddie think she might want to take back that 'not dying tonight' part of her statement. PJ had stopped talking, and so had she. She tried to focus on her current beading task while keeping an ear out for any sounds or hints as to what may be going on. She managed to calm down a little when the noises reassured her that no one was inside, but the banging metal made her sincerely hope that it wasn't her car out there. She chewed on her lip as she continued working. "They right outside," she stated simply, looking towards the door. A part of her wanted to take a peek and get a good look of what was happening, though another part didn't want to chance it.
 
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