✖ℬlack ℒove & Ẅhite ℭrimes

Malfis

The Unconquerable
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
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  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. 1-3 posts per week
  4. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Give-No-Fucks
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Prestige
  5. Douche
  6. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. No Preferences
Genres
If it's not listed below then I'll most likely like it.
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ℬlack ℒove & Ẅhite ℭrimes
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[BG=black] Years ago, a legend sprouted up in the bustling cities of Japan. The rumors whispering the faint stories of two people. Two unlikely people who were danger themselves. A man by the name of Loki and a woman by the name of Ama. Their past unknown, their lives unknown. But all that remained of their living tale was their dark red relationship. And this was how it started ...

In the big city of Tokyo, a mysterious figure in the shadows has made a name for himself in this big city. That man was Loki. Loki "Knight" or as his name was rumored to be. White haired. Two different colored eyes. He has become a renown legend on the streets with every single crime he commits. From stealing. To raping. To fraud. To murder. The list goes on. No one knows much about his past besides the fact that he lost his true identity long ago and what remains of him is a cold, heartless killer. Though very people know the truth, that in fact he isn't as he seems. Under all his blood-some doings, there has been guilt and a voice. A voice that rings in his ear for reminding him. Constantly reminding him of what he did and how many lives and things he's ruined. Though he's spent years perfecting to ignore it, how long can he take it before he loses his mind? Maybe this year ... things might just turn out differently.

News have been speculated through out the city that a new agent has been given the task to capture this raving lunatic. And she was apparently one of the very best. Talented, smart and cunning, she was very good at her work. Her life's desire seemed to make the world a better place but know one else understood if she had ulterior motives. It seemed like nothing else was more important to her than completing the tasks and assignments she was given. From every
criminal shes caught, every single one of them has suffered. Her ruthless reputation and cold heartiness makes her seem like an ice beauty. But whatever will happen when she faces a new opponent. One that she's never seen before. Could she capture him and tame him like all her previous victims? Did she have that power?

Their lives have become intertwined in a game of cat and mouse. A sequence of unpredictable events laying out across their time line. A trap, a bomb everywhere they went. This was the dark deadly game of death. But as many say, all's fair in love and war.


A living legend who have disappeared from the country of Japan. It's been a few years and rumors have stirred up, if they were ever still around they would have been the age of 29 (Loki) and 27 (Ama). Their story being told among agents and gangs alike. Symbolic figures of change. But their lives have only just begun because they're out their somewhere. Whether they were breaking havoc or living in lust, they are together. I

You might not believe this crap I've told you, but who's to blame you? They're the definition of insanity.

Out there somewhere, they're living out their lives. Two dangerous people and a million different problems. Who knows what shit will go down?
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Shooting Roses, Killing Devils & Living Among the Shadows ... Let us play my friend.
 


"If you hate what you are, you'll do anything to deny it. You'll feed the lie until it become real. But who you are doesn't go away. It waits for you."

Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Her fingers tapped impatiently. They drummed a soundless rhythm against the metal table. Her eyes scanned the crowds once before they placed themselves back to the cup of tea in front of her. Staring into the cup and turning it slowly as to present a casual appearance. However her intentions were anything but. Voices, sounds were stretched high and low through the afternoon day. People ran to fro in the afternoon buzz. The small cafe she sat in was busy yet empty. There were enough people to admit a loud chorus of voices and conversations but empty enough to allow unoccupied tables and chairs.

She sat at a table simply outside of the cafe. Where a thin line of other tables and chairs lay, occupied and unoccupied by various customers. Elders sipping their afternoon tea, couples declaring their love for all to see and children shoveling cake into their wide mouths. She sat at a metal table, glowing in all her glory. From a beautiful fitted cream dress to the smooth dark locks of her hair framing a pair of large hazel eyes. It was an appearance of a perfect afternoon, an assumption of a lovely day. Yet it was anything but.

Her fingers tapped once again. Her eyes sought a small glance at the clock above the cafe window. A casual glance, nothing to appear anything but curious. Her fingers tightened over her stirring spoon. Her lips pressed together, in a line of distaste. Her thought churned, steaming with anger.

He was late.


In that moment, she became very aware of the gun strapped to her thigh. Thoughts of murder rang in her ears and she numbered the different ways one could kill a man. She knew many ways. She preferred the ones most painful. Ones that could torture and tease. In that moment, dispute the "love" she felt for him, she wished the most painful torture on his soul.



She didn't understand his tardiness. His need to always present a show. They were to meet at a half an hr ago. Yet here she sat, alone. Without the company of her....lover. If that was what she was suppose to label it as. She still felt uncomfortable with the labeling process. She didn't understand what exactly they were, except for the clear message that they were both equally attracted to each other. They tried not to meet in public often if not for the fact that he was still a criminal and she was now an Ex-agent. They tried not to be seen together at all if not for the fact that they were on completely different sides.



They were on completely different sides. He was a criminal and she was the agent. Yet, they fit together in an illusion of the perfection.



She let out a sigh. Her patience wearing thinner by the second.


 
"Loki Knight"

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Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...

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It was another ordinary day for Loki. Or "ordinary" in the definition of Loki Knight. His usual appearance consisted of the least attention grabbing clothes like tee shirts, jeans and Hood. But today was different. After being separated from her, they would finally meet again. The woman who changed his life. For the better? Maybe. For the worse? Maybe. Nothing could be said besides the connection and feelings he felt for her. Their lives had met been played in the game of fate. Puppets, unpredictably attracted towards each other. Finding her, Loki never wanted to let go ...

Dressed in a fine suit and his faint white gold hair combed back, he looked like the perfect image of a honest man. HA! What a joke, that was the last thing he could ever be. Walking down the street he smirked, his ears listening into every conversation. High school girls giggled as he passed by, staring at him as if he was an exotic animal. Loki normally never enjoyed attention but at that moment he couldn't help but radiate a feeling of bliss. Something he hadn't found ever since his break away from a hospital. Yes that's right. He broke out of a hospital that had diagnosed him as 'mentally insane.' But they were damn wrong. He wasn't insane. Just an exceptional genius in fact.

***

You walked down the street with confidence. Your ears perking up at the echoes of footsteps, counting your strides. Waiting at the red light, you glanced around the crowd. There was a woman who was dressed in a sharp suit, apparently yelling on the phone but if one took a closer glance, they could observe the water building up in her swollen eyes. How sad. Heartbreaks hurt. But it would be only more intense if you focused your energy upon them all the time. A few legs ahead of him a teenage boy had ear plugs in his ears sighing, humming. Normal right? You doubted it as you notice the band aids hidden underneath his sleeves. From the very corner of your eye you notice a faint scar. Tragic. As you tried to observe more people, the red light changed to green. Crossing the street you saw the name of the shop written in fancy cursive script. Looking so quaint and cozy. It had been awhile since you felt normal. And this very place made you feel welcome.

Glancing from the windows, you noticed her. The familiar figure of the woman your heart beated for. There she sat with a pout across her lush pink lips, looking upset by the second. She was counting. Every single tap of her fingers echoed the ticking of the seconds. You knew she couldn't be mad at you. You just knew it. But feeling a bit guilty, you hurried over across the street, making it the very last minute. The honking of cars added into the noise of the crowds. Words building a dome around you. Everywhere you went you could hear comments. Some people didn't realize it, but words could be comfort and hurt. Those who spoke recklessly were foolish, idiots. Seeing the flower shop from the distance you smiled, a parted smile that would have gone unnoticed. Paying the chubby short woman for a bouquet she attempted flirting. You graciously ignored her, brushing her remarks aside carelessly. Carrying all the roses in your hands you made it back to the shop. There she sat looking cross.

Finally deciding to put her out of her torture, you arrived inside. Handing her the flowers you leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips, short and sweet. Regretting it the moment you parted. But you didn't let that show in your expression. Sitting across from her, your face revealed a slight smile - smirk.

"How have you been Ama?"

Oh but those words held so much more meaning. How had she been... -- as in where did she go, what did she do? And most importantly, did she miss you? Oh how the curiosity killed you as you sat their waiting. Unmoving. The world seemed to move in a blur around you as you noticed people enter and leave. "Normal people".
 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••​

When she was a girl, she created an illusion of false dependency. No one was to be trusted. She built a box around herself and then another box around that box. No one was allowed inside the box. Obviously, the box was penetrable and a select few were able to pass through the first box walls.

But the second box. The second box was a vow. A promise. To insure her sane idea of security in her emotions and actions, the second box was never to be touched or trifled with.

She had rules that keep her in line. That keep people out of the "second box". They weren't real rules, invisible rules that were small thoughts clustered in her head. Like sticky notes to a mirror.
Things like she never mixed business with pleasure. She never flirted or undertook an overly friendly disposition, unless there was some compensation or outcome she was in need of. She was straight to the point and never gave more then what was needed. She never talked to more people then what was necessary.

The problem was when she dealt with people who had the supernatural ability to slip through the cracks.

People who could call out on her bull shit, label it and name it well. People who saw through her false pretenses, her exaggerated replies, her calculated measures. People who didn't care who she was or what she did. People who saw fit to place themselves in her life and care not of the drastic measures it took in her personality to accept it. People--no, a person like Loki Knight who broke into her "second box" and made a home inside it. Refusing to leave.


•••••••••••

How have you been?


The question was more meaningful then she thinks he implied. The question held far too many answers and far to many insecurities. She could say a great number of things.


She could say she missed him. That she sometimes laid on her bed for hours analyzing a memory. She could say she lusted for his lips, a brush of his hand, the warmth of his body. She could say she dreamed of him, his crooked smile and cocky smirk. She could say she hated him. For forcing himself into her life and infesting this emotional baggage that implanted a fear she didn't understand. She could say she slept with a gun at night, still feeling the presence of a hit man ready to terminate her. She could say the betrayal of her company still...pained her thoughts. She could say that she still burned with an anger that wishes for their death and more. She could say she went shopping. She could say she soaked in the bath and ordered expensive room service from fancy hotels. She could say she treated herself to things she didn't deserve and felt no happiness in its treat. She could say many things but she wouldn't. All she could think to say was:


"Fine. I've been fine...." She said simply. She looked up, a small smile forming on her lips "Not having to see that smirk for a number of days was pleasing..."


Her tone of playfulness held in the air as her eyes trailed over him. They noticed his clothing, his hair, and then his eyes. The eyes that both startled and allured her. That captured a great hatred and turned into something that was not quiet hate. She pressed her lips together. Her eyes further examining him. His hair had the beautiful quality of being both tousled and tame. His clothing choice of a pressed suit was very much different from the jeans and hoodies of her expectations. Her eyes trailed over his face. Up his chin, across his lips, and staring into his eyes.


The silence that followed her answer was momentary. It as neither awkward or tense. It held within its silence an understanding. As she stared at him, she was soaking in the measure of his company. Comparing it to the days and weeks without him. She wanted to hold on to this moment. But as she came to this thought another followed---what if he didn't miss her as she did him? Foolish. Foolish woman. Why had she simply assumed...


Did he miss her? She would not ask it directly but---her fingers met her teacup and stirred the dark substance within. Hazel eyes captured his once more, "Your capable of doing anything with you time...how did you spend it?" Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Or was the absence of my company too devastating?"
 
"Loki Knight"

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Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...
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Black. White. Gray. Those were the shades he saw long ago in the white building. Everywhere he went, it reeked like alcohol and plastic. There friendly nurses smiled hesitantly. Trying to soothe him as he only stared back. Emptiness written in his eyes. Dull and almost dead. He forgot. Did he have a family. Did he love someone. What was his life like? But those memories remained under a dormant Tucked away in the deepest depth and corners. Everyday he found himself staring at the outside world. The tall buildings and the green grass. So free and happy. He wanted to leave. But those lab coated people said 'no.' At first he obliged to their rules but slowly he began to rebel. He observed all those around him. Figuring out complex plans on how to escape. And when he finally did. He saw red. Lots and lots of red ...

Life was different on the outside world. Cold and cruel. Deception written everywhere. He trusted no one. He cared for few. And he tried to make a life for himself. Trying to find out his identity. But years ago, he felt something different. Something like compassion, kindness and sweetness. Because of her. The woman right in front of him. He could not wrap his finger around the truth. Only assuming what he learned from his own experiences. Though something stirred inside of his mind because of her. A few memories slowly re appeared. With weird sequences and strange events. He still needed to decipher the meaning. The secrets even he himself, didn't know.


***

Your eyes stared at hers. Beautiful and dangerous. With her long strands of hair fancifully arranged, her hazel eyes glowed. Her long eyelashes rimmed her eyelids, looking like a porcelain doll. You watched her familiar lips meet the rim of the tea cup. She looked so fragile. The simplicity of her apparel made her appear to be even more regal. You casually averted your eyes, mixing your own cup of tea. The silver of the spoon reflected your familiar eyes. Two different colors. Something intriguing, as some remarked.

You listened to her reply. So simple. So short and so hungry for you. Despite the concealment of meaning, you knew the underlying meanings too well. However you yourself are a man of thought. You wanted to reply in this secret code that no one else could understand. Just between the two of you. Private.

You wanted to tell her everything. Tell her the time you spent actually earning money through legal ways -- at least in your mind. You had made a fortune for yourself through dealing and gambling idiots. Fools who wasted their money and in the end, it all went to you. For the past months, you racked up a large sum of money without strings attached. If only humanity knew the darkness in society, people willing to do anything to survive. Including s*x, drugs and robbery. You've met people, you've made links. But through everything, you remained a soloist. You refused to join any groups, to become yet another underling. No. You've just made your money and now you needed a plan. A plan to break away from the shadows and receive glorious recognition. Not fame. But legend. Around the world. Al of this roamed in your mind but you spoke of nothing. You simply grinned, a glimmer in your eyes.

"Of course, life's not an adventure without someone like you..." Indeed it was cliche but it felt right at the moment.

Taking a long sip from the warmth of the tea. You drained down the sugar with a satisfied 'ah'.

You wanted to ask her about her own time. What she did. What she saw. Who she met. But you refrained from blurting out your words like a fool. Thinking things through, you finally spoke. Your lips punctuating each letter in the sentence.

"So, would you care to join me for a little while?" You didn't need to explain anything else. Hope rose inside of you but you carefully pushed it to the edge. The meaning of the words was clear:

Hey, do you want to maybe spend some time together for the next few months, do something exciting? Yes? Please?

You composed yourself calmly but anxiety ran through your veins.
 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••​

She trained her emotions with delicate care. Never allowing emotions to change the neat composure of her face. Never allowing them to screw up her workmanship or reputation. She trained her body to ignore flattery or leering. She built defenses around herself with the knowledge that no one would dare near her without permission. Yet, with a few trivial words, Something seemed to flutter in her stomach and warm on her neck. Why was it so easy for this man slip to through cracks that no other man could? What made him so different from every other one? What allured her...?

Her eyes connected to his, the sweet mystery of his different colored eyes. His eyes trailed over her as if slowly swarming over her body, memorizing each line and detail. He invaded each part of her, trying to find what made her tick and using it to his advantage. He was a man set on destroying the boxes she artfully built around herself. And she had no say in it's destruction. Her strength to deny her attraction was at its limit. She knew that when she met him again, she would easily falter. The place that they left at many months ago, were words never finished. She knew as he did, that what was done must be finished. That this was not over. Whatever that placed itself between then had only just begun.

Her lips twisted into a sinful smile. She understood. This way of wording things that wanted to hidden. There were thousands of things that wanted to be said, yet silence and delightful codes hung in the air. She understood as he did, that codes were easier said then what was truly meant to be said. She could never bring herself to blurt out her attraction and he could never appear serious with her emotions. It was a game of chance. Every word said could or could not have a different reaction. He worded his question neatly, to the point, but still concealed. She understood, his want to be around her. She reciprocated the same want but by different means. On her terms. Afterall everything always ended by her terms.

Her eyes dance with mirth and her fingers delicately grazing her teacup. She wanted to say yes, of course. But to say it so bluntly would give him satisfaction to no end, an excuse to tease her eagerness for days to come and that would just not do. Her eyes said so clearly the answer he wished for, but her lips were twisted into their playful way of tease.

"I may wish to join you. But how do I know you'll keep my attention for so long? What if I grow bored? Will you entertain me?" She asked defiantly. "If I join you, we may go back to the old ways of my lust to kill you. Will you be able to handle that?"
 
"Loki Knight"

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Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Your face remained frozen. But on the inside your emotions rushed into every nerve. You understood. A game, that was what we played. The very corner of your mouth curved into a slight smile - smirk. Your hand gripped the tea cup, your fingers delicately circling the edge. You were about to speak until you shut your mouth. Keeping your cool, you rethought your words. For a few seconds there was perfect silence between you two. Everyone else around you chattered, contributing to the sound and noises. Finally you leaned forward, your arms and hands cupping your own face. This time a playful smile was drawn across your face. Your eyes twinkled with mischief.

"I make no promises, but I'll be sure to keep you excited ..." Your words trailing off without a need for explanation or detail. By the way she slightly moved, the slow and careful movements of her lips, she was hesitant. But you knew she couldn't resist. After all, she was your challenge and yours to hers. A pair of misfits, warped into complex puzzles.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the subtle movements of a man. Mid thirties and dyed hair. His eyes were hidden behind heavily rimmed sun glasses. Strange considering the fact that he had been staring at us for the past ten minutes. The man glanced at his watch, as if he was recording our every action. By the style of his suit, it resembled another one of those foolish gangs that wanted to recruit. Idiot kept repeating in your head. Only fools would make themselves known so easily.

Getting up you held her hand tightly, knowing she wouldn't have been shocked. After all, under your breath you muttered simply a few numbers. Indeed, referring to the direction of danger. Walking outside back into the crowd, you managed to blend in with everyone else. The echo of that man's footsteps faded and was repeated with pitter patters of other feet. Holding her hand, you had ended up in the park now. Trying to remain in the shadows, you cornered her against a tree. Your eyes staring down waiting for an answer from your previous question.

"Well, what do you say?" He said softly, waiting. Wanting her to whisper the one word syllable.

 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••​

In that moment everything was still. The men that pursued Loki, gone. The thoughts of emotional outcome, silent. The need to analyze every situation and move, pushed aside. The only thing that consumed her thoughts were the irrational beating of her heart and the man that hovered in front of her seeking an answer she already answered a million times in her head. Her heart was beating at a thump she never remembered having except within his company and her thoughts were competing for the right to analyze the situation or seek what she already knew was true. She could easily analyze the situation and come to a conclusion that would suit her the best, but she could all the same let herself say what she knew would answer his question and bring her the most delight.

He trapped her against a tree, his body merely grazing hers and his face only inches away. The idea to push him away, never crossed her mind. The need to demand answers of the men that followed him, never touched her tongue. The want to be anywhere but here was irrationally stupid. She didn't want to be anywhere but here in this moment. Where his face was so close and his emotions so raw. He trapped her in a way she allowed no other man to do so. Letting herself be captured so easily, she wondered if this was how every other woman felt. Being helpless to the emotions that drowned out sense. But she could say that she enjoyed it. Delighted in this new feeling. Almost a challenge. A demand to conquer it.

Her hand reached up to finger a white strand of his hair, smoothing it back and combing her fingers through it. Before she understood its meaning a soft smile formed on her lips and lightened to his.

If she arched her chin up and leaned up against her toes, she would find her lips against his. So close. So tempting. His eyes bore into hers, testing her, daring her to complete the action. Challenging her to take what she wanted and face the consequences later. And she almost obliged. Almost fell to his challenge. She brushed off the tree, standing on the her toes. She leaned up, lips parted and eyes dancing in lust. As she neared his lips, a simple inch away, she turned to the side, her lips brushing his cheek instead. They reached his ear and a smile formed on her lips.

"As long as you keep me excited, I'll follow you anywhere." She said so simply to his ear. And in that moment she had no regret in what she said.
 
"Loki Knight"

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Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


You smiled, "Glad to hear that ..."

You were in no shock of course. He knew it. By the way her body language interacted with yours, it was written as clear as the stars. Oh how badly you wanted to aggressively hold her. But you refrained, knowing the game. She was a pro at temptation. The soft brush of her lips aroused your heart beat. But you forced yourself to forget. Indulge in the moment but release it from your thoughts.

Putting your hands in your pocket, you sighed carelessly. You watched the people walk by, children, the elderly couples, teens and adults. Everyone looked the same in their monochromatic tones. One dimensional and boring. People that you shouldn't bother with. Just simple pawns of a bigger story. As your watch ticked, you were reminded of the plans. Evening plans that were quite interesting. Mr. Cartier. An old rich man who had lived his life with honesty and truth. In fact, he only married once and it was through happiness. Sadly his wife had passed away in her mid thirties. Leaving him four children to look after. From what he heard, the old man was after his missing son who had apparently eloped with a girl. He was willing to pile up as much money for his return.

Announcing the plan to Ama, you watched her silently agree. Parting with her at exactly twelve. You retreated away, feeling a bit lonely. But it wasn't forever. At least during this evening, you would see her again. At the glitzy hotel de fleurs.

The sky was a luminescent dark navy color. It was covered by a blanket of grey clouds, covering the glowing moon beams. You walked down the street, where everything seemed peaceful. The rats scattered under the gutters. Cars whizzed by. It was late, almost eleven. From afar, you could hear the loud sounds of party music. The clubs were alive. The bars were alive. The darkness signaled the very beginning of trouble.

Finding the richly decorated hotel, you entered. Everything was decorated with expensive flowers and colors. Gold, silver and glass reflected each inch. The plush chairs and exquisite designs adorned the room. You were ready, your new suit and silk tie were pressed down smoothly. The woman at the front desk asked for your name, you replied as her eyes naturally tranced by your being. You asked her if she had arrived and the woman shook her head. The woman curiously gave you Mr. Cartier's room number but you decided to wait for her tardy arrival.

And the clock struck, your heartbeat matching each and every delicate 'tick'.
 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.​
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••​


She stood in her hotel suite, staring into the mirror. Her face was passive as it examined the women in the mirror who appeared nothing like herself. Ruby painted lips. Hazel eyes lined with light shades of makeup. Cream skin exposed through a small sheer of fabric. Her appearance suited a voluminous call girl rather then her aggressive agent familiarity. Her lips were painted a ruby red, contrasting the light makeup brushed against her hazel eyes. Black hair that usually hung along her back was thrown into a simple updo, small strands pulled out, curled and framing her face. To finish the night and her overall disgrace was the tiny sheer dress that smoothed across her body. It slipped over her form, tightening and shaping in all the right places and curves before ending by her mid thigh. Her eyes followed the flow of her body before she let out a sneer of disgust and let her body fall into a chair by her vanity table.

She was once told she had the strong eyes of her father. She was once told she had the overpowering beauty of her mother. Her eyes stared into her vanity mirror and saw nothing of her parents but the scrapes. The leftovers of their death. Her hand reached out and touched the mirror. As if reaching out to touch the woman in the mirror. As if wondering if she was real. Her hands were stopped by the mirror and she held them there for a moment. Pressed against the glass. The woman in the mirror grimaced. Her hands clenched and dropped down to her lap. She stared at the mirror again, before she felt her hands slowly slid up. Unaware of the meaning behind the action, she felt her hand creep up to the place on the side of her neck. The scar. The burn. She felt her fingers brush across the initials. The initials of her parent's murderer. As if the thought was said aloud, she felt her hand flinch and remove from the side of her neck. She felt her stomach clench and she let out a breath she didn't realize she were holding.

She stood up. Grabbing her shoes and purse she walked out the hotel suite in an uninitiated rush.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She counted the steps it took to walk to the hotel. She counted the seconds to minutes of the time. She counted the exact minutes that would earn herself a tardy entrance. She knew she would be late. She timed it perfectly, so that she may be late. Not for the luxury of a exaggerated entrance. Simply because it served him right. He was late to their first meeting that morning. She had the all but rights to be as late as she so wished. So, she took advantage of it.


She walked into the lobby of the hotel. Chin arched in a confident manner, her heels echoing against the marble floor and memories of her previous engagement in her suite long forgotten. The hotel was filled with the grandeur you expected of a high classed hotel. It placed the rich and wealthy with the most quality material. A cliche of how the wealthy lived. Men and women buzzed to and fro, smiles and laughter echoing in the piles of superficial happiness they surrounded themselves in. They enjoyed each others company in the satisfaction that they were secure in their riches and bank accounts. Nothing could phase the mind of the wealthy, for the thought that money could buy anything always clouded their minds.


Amaterasu paused in her step. She took several experienced scans across the room. Ignoring the leering eyes, the inappropriate comments that floated up to her ears and the nagging eyes that demanded to be noticed. She felt a pang of annoyance before her eyes met a familiar shade of colors. A smile crept upon her lips as her eyes met his. He was dressed to the nines and his hair was just the prefect amount of tousled and intolerable. Her stomach did the kind of flip she was unaccustomed to and her heart did the racing action she had no way of stopping. She could not hold back the happiness she felt with simply seeing him. It was a new reaction she wasn't sure of. For one of the first times in her life, she felt unsure of herself. It was a thrilling fear. An excitement. A challenge.

She felt herself swallow her heart beats as she walked the steps to close the irrational distance between them. As she made the final steps in front of him, her eyes danced and her lips spread into a smile that meant so much more then a simple "hello".

"Good Evening." She whispered beautifully. "I hope that your wait was spent pleasantly..." She said with an obvious grin of sweet revenge.
 
"Loki Knight"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


In all honestly, it didn't bother you that much. Beckoning her to the elevator, you kept her near you. Everyone's eyes were focused on you two. They knew that they didn't belong. Two misfits in the world of gold and perfection. The fat old man stared at Ama, you simply stared back at him with an edge of menace. The younger woman who was dressed in the skimpiest outfit ogled her heavily mascaraed eyes at you. With an aura of steel, you ignored her. She soon dumbly realized that you were closely gripping onto Ama. Rich people bothered you. Their motivations for various purposes. Some good some evil. Some were frivolously stupid while others were corrupted by their own perversions. As the elevator dinged at floor 8, you calmly but quickly stepped out, pulling her with you.

Walking down the quietly lit hallways you finally found the room labeled number 452A as the woman at the front desk had said. Using your knuckles you knocked. The door open and you were greeted by a petite woman who stuttered a bit asking for the purpose of your arrival. Gently patting her on the head like a puppy you told her your arrangement with Monsieur Cartier. The woman nodded and then realized that you had company. Her eyes dulled a little bit but she welcomed both of you inside.

The insides of the apartment were decorated with bright fabrics of magenta, oranges and teal. You noticed the Buddhist statues and the tiny elephant figures appearing almost everywhere. Strange decoration for someone who was completely french and catholic ... as you learned from background search. Following the petite woman, you entered into a simple and clean office. The room was white and bland, nothing like the other rooms. Besides the thin old man was an Indian woman, now that explained most of the designs. Greeting him with a handshake you introduced yourself and Ama. You could already see that his eyes were drawn to Ama, like any man would be.

"So Mr. Yurchenko, you can help me find my son and his wife?" He said murmuring.

You merely nodded, laughing at the idiotic-icy ... Any intelligent man would have checked his resume. Yet again, most men didn't think like you did.

"And is this lovely lady ...?" He said questionably.

"A partner, I'm sure we can find the both of them. Though I myself have one condition, and that is doubling your reward." You said solemnly.

The man looked like he was going to flare up but when his attention was drawn to Ama he stopped himself. The Indian woman sat besides him and patted his back, saying something to soothe him.

"Alright ... fine." Cartier murmured at last.

"Thank you sir." You said with a plastered smile.

"Wait - Just to let you two know, I've heard that they are in America ... I don't know where specifically but somewhere in the USA and Canada." He said.

"Thank you... again." You said, getting a bit tired of this old man. He was trying to buy time.

Walking out of the room, the apartment and taking the stairs this time, you reached the outside of the glitzy 'utopia'. Ama probably had no idea what they were doing, but it wasn't important. You needed money. Your income was decreasing and it forced you to do something.

Within the next few hours, Cartier had surprisingly and graciously provided a private jet for the two of them. Checking the files of Cartier's son, apparently he was an architectural engineer. From the sounds of that, you had a feeling, a feeling that the man would most likely be in New York. The city where some of the world's best monuments were built. Like the Statue of Liberty. He shouldn't be hard to find after all, you had dialed a phone call earlier to his best friend. With your skillful use of words, you found out exactly where he should be. You felt accomplished, surprised that everyone else Cartier had hired, failed. You were just simply special? Yes that's the word.
 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••​


Her eyes stared out the window. Her fingers tapped insensibly at the chair besides her. Her legs crossed and then uncrossed before crossing again. Her pencil skirt suddenly felt uncomfortable and she questioned the choice of her apparel for third time in that hour that she sat in the ridiculous plane. She rung out her hands and then once more, and then again once more. She hated planes. Although hated was not the word. It was something more passionate. She had a great malice for all things that didn't stay grounded to the....ground. All things that have a definite conclusion. All things that she was sure of. She knew for certain. She liked these things. She enjoyed having the knowledge of her outcome. However, plane were not in that family. Planes had many chances of death. Planes were unpredictable, uncertain, ungrounded. She hated unpredictability.


Her eyes strayed to the seat besides her, where the very definition of unpredictable sat. His eyes were closed and his features softened, in a appearance commonly referred to as sleeping. However, the chances of him actually sleeping were low. To let his guard down in a plane, private jet, who gave a damn, was unlikely of the always aware personality she associated him with. But he was like a plane, unpredictable. He could be sleeping, he could not be sleeping. Either way he was not talking to her.


She leaned back in her chair, letting a breath out. She calmed her nerves to an extent where she wasn't fidgeting as much. She needed to simply be calm. To loose the thought of death, of fear of anything that made her fidget in an Un-Amaterasu-like way. She perfected her calming technique over many years. Since she was a kid, the calming techniques seemed to work. She simply needed to forget. To forget. To for----she felt a bump of turbulence in the jet. A slight shake. She bit her lip down hard. Her eyes glanced out the window, watching the plane wings shake as if they were simply looking for the chance to snap off.


Only a couple of hours left. They would reach America. New York. Find this kid. Being him back to his wealthy father. Loki would get his sought after reward. And everything would be fine? She closed her eyes and let out a huff. She didn't know. There were thousands of things that were uncertain. Her occupation. Her relationship status. Her loss of friends. Her next job. What she was going to do with her life after Loki decided to walk away or she decided to leave. There were thousands of different endings and choices she needed to make. But the only thing she could concentrate on was the fact that she was still on a damn plane.


She rested her forearm over her face and soothed the headache she knew was bound to come.
 
"Loki Knight"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


On the plane ride you stayed asleep with occasional winks of daylight. Normal people would have found it ridiculous that you were paranoid about a falling plain but that was simply your nature. At eight in the morning the pilot announced the descent of the plane. Glancing out of the window, you noticed the gigantic skyscrapers. The tiny people who went on with lives, careless about anything else. Deciding to switch off to something more casual, you returned in your comfortable jeans and hoodie. Your hair was neatly hidden with a few strands coming loose. From the occasional irritation of contacts, you decided to leave your eye color alone.

With the piece of paper and address tucked inside the folds of your pant pockets, cash, other passport junk, you were prepared to get off the plane. With your attire, some of the attendants that greeted you eyed you with suspicion. Hiding yourself you ignored the passing eyes, aware of their every movement. As you passed by security so swiftly and easily, you could only smirk at their security. Taking your luggage and walking alongside with Ama, you blended right into the busy streets of New York.

Deciding to go to your hotel first, you two dropped of your belongings and showered to refresh yourselves from the long trip. The hotel was nothing compared to the one Mr. Cartier lived in, but it wasn't bad either. It's own ratings were four stars. While you waited for Ama, you unpacked your things. The two beds were neatly folded but you suspected cameras and bugs everywhere. You weren't wrong since you found one little camera hidden in the corner. Thankfully it was broken or else you would have smashed it.

Finally the two of you departed from the hotel while grabbing a quick lunch. Waving for a tax driver, you directed the address. You were a bit hesitant about getting into a car with a random stranger but you endured your paranoia. The taxi stopped in front of an ordinary looking apartment. Entering, the building was quiet besides the loud sounds of children. You looked at the room number you had messily scrawled and took the elevator. No words were spoken as you stood there in the moving apparatus with your hands stuffed in your pockets. As the doors opened with a ding you stepped out and looked for the room.

With one index finger, you rang the doorbell.

There a woman appeared, holding a tiny baby in her arms. Her eyes widened in surprise. Your own eyes stared in shock. This was unusual because usually you were never surprised.

Her long wheat golden color was just a shade darker than your own. Her eyes matched your natural dark brown eye. Her facial features were strongly similar to your own with a more feminine and graceful touch. Her pink lips finally open and spoke speaking a name, almost like a faint memory.

"Marko?"

You stood there without speaking a word until finally you introduced yourself. She looked at you with concern while welcoming you two inside. Her home was decorated with posh and urban furniture. Fresh and clean. She placed the baby into her room. She went into the kitchen boiling water, returning within minutes with cups and a hot tea pot.

"You don't remember do you? ... I'm Sofia, your... sister..." She said with a smile, a sweet motherly gentle smile. Her eyes were brimming with a sense of joy. Sparkling as tears glittered in the corner of her eyes.

And there you sat there speechless... amazing considering that you were usually never at a lost for words.
 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Marko. Marko. Marko?

Was that his real name? Then who was Loki Knight? Is he the same person? What was-----She frowned. She didn't know who he was. That much was obvious. She only knew the man he wanted her to know. The man he made her believe he was. Yet, it was never true. She should of known from the beginning. Loki Knight was a fabulous actor. He could play any role, be any person he wanted. He could make you believe a lie, he could sell it to you so well that in the end you believed you were the one lying. Loki Knight was a man with many faces. And she knew none of them. She thought she knew Loki, because she was familiar with simple facts. Yet facts don't make up a person.

The man sitting next to her, she doesn't know him. He could be playing role right now. Pretending to be someone. This Loki Knight person he built up is only an image, a false space. Why, had she not thought of this before? That this could all be a hoax, a lie, a game. No, she did think of this. She did. She was just blinded by his smile, his possession, his hold over her emotions. Her stomach clenched. Her lips twitching towards a frown.

She said his name was...Marko. She said she was his sister. She needed to examine the situation. She needed to think. Her eyes trailed over the women's face, who without mention looked very much like Loki. Her skin held the same tone, her eyes the same color, her hair the same silky colored tousle. Without question, the woman looked like a version of Loki. The only question was----her eyes trailed to Loki, who sat in silence. His emotion strung and for the first moment, she noticed surprise in his features. The only question was, why Loki didn't know she was his sister?

He couldn't have known. He wouldn't have brought us here if he did. This lead to another question. The most obvious of them all: What did she have to do with Cartier's son? Was she an acquaintance? Friend?

She pressed her lips together. These questions needed answers. For both personal and impersonal reasons. She tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear, and pulled her eyes from Loki to his....sister.

"....if you are his sister, which you do look applicable for, why is it that he can not recall?" She asked. It was question that could have been answered by either of them. But with the state of surprise on his face....and the lack of history he told her....she wasn't sure she would get an answer from him.
 
"Loki Knight"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Quietly she sighed, you stared, waiting for her to speak. Waiting for her lips to move and respond. Answer. Convince you it was the truth or a lie. You needed to know. For once you were silent, feeling vulnerable and unsure of yourself. This wasn't you. You were supposed to be Loki. But the name she called him kept repeating and repeating. Marko, Marko, Marko. It all sounded so familiar but your mind kept the under laying memories hidden underneath a sheet of protection. As if your brain refused to open the locked away feelings. Kept far, far away. To guard you.

Her delicate white hand pushed away the strand of white blond hair away from her face. A dark expression drawn upon her face. She was uncomfortable, as if she was unwilling to speak of things. But you wanted to know and waited, waited expectantly for an answer.

"You don't remember, but I'm not surprised ... you probably locked away everything a long time ago. Everything in Ukraine has been forgotten, no?" She murmured, her head tilted waiting for you to say something. But you did not react and she continued speaking.

"Back in Ukraine, a long time ago, we weren't the most well off family. Father and mother had wed due to an arrangement between our grandparents. For the years I remember at the age of five, mother and father always smiled. Being a happy family like the pictures in a storybook. But a year later when you were born, I found out the truth. Mother and father were never happy. Mother herself hid a fake smile behind her crying eyes and father was too stupid to do anything about it. You were too little to know anything and I tried my best at everything I could. I spent the most time at school and everything. Just to get away from home.

For awhile I selfishly begged mother to send me off to Russian relatives and she had unwillingly agreed. I felt terrible for leaving you on your own but you probably barely even remembered me. From what mother said, you grew up as a happy child, optimistic and bright. Mother tried her best to raise you. Because father himself was nothing more than a lazy loser. When I was 18 and studying abroad in college I heard news about you. Mother never wanted to mention me, since I had abandoned family as father claimed. He simply disowned me and cut me off, forbidding me from returning in his sight.

You see, father was an alcoholic. He spent his time going to work and doing the same thing over and over again and then going home. He was usually drunk and ended up beating mother at three in the morning. He did this when I was six. His habits became worse and worse and mother kept me updated. I wanted to go back and help but I had to stay and continue my education. By the time you were eleven, he had been fired, leaving mother to work for the money. She tried her best to work hard and I mailed as much money as I could back. But it wasn't enough. I think mother finally lost it when she found out father had cheated on her and had gotten another woman pregnant.

Mother herself got sicker and sicker. You eventually witnessed everything father did. From drinking to bringing strange women into the house. Some claimed you lost your sanity. I wouldn't blame you but any child would feel that way. As soon as the neighbors had found out one night, they took you away into an Asylum. You were treated for five years, all these different medications and skills. I wanted to visit but they refused to let me see you. Mother herself had passed away a bit later when you had broken out of the hospital. With the death of mother, father left all he had and traveled somewhere in the world. No one knows of his whereabouts. But from the records I've kept, he's cheated on mother with a few different women, two which he had impregnated. They should be somewhere still in Ukraine.

And as the tale ends here, the people at the institution told me that they had nearly brainwashed your past all away. Leaving remnants of the education they taught you. They ... told me you were gone. That I would never see you again."

A few tears glistened in her eyes but she wiped them away.

You sat there, listening and stunned. But you couldn't deny it all. Now that she spoke, you recalled a few distant memories of a man. This large man that had a women around his grasp. While another woman was upstairs crying. No faces appeared but the sounds were all vivid.

"I ... don't know what to say." You didn't know if you could trust her yet but there was always a chance. Now that he found out about his own past, you had it in your mind to research your background. Find your parents. And if your father was that damn wretched, you would find that bastard and curse him with all your being.

"But I'm supposing you two are hired by Mr. Cartier?" She said amused.

"I guess I haven't stated but I'm his son's wife. That old man has nothing better to do than worry and make up stories." The doorbell rang and Sofia got up to answer it. She spoke quickly, thanking the woman at the door. Quickly following behind her was a young little boy who had identical hair but vibrant glowing teal eyes.

"Alright I'll talk you later Andre, if you don't mind, will you go to your room and do your hw? I'll be there in a second." She whispered and the boy nodded obediently as he marched down into the hallway.

"Sorry about that, that's my son. Ian should be home soon... but anyways, I hope you aren't too shaken up by what I told you." Her eyes looking over at you worriedly.

"And are you his ...?" Asking Ama quizzically, not knowing how to end the sentence.
 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••



Ama listened carefully as the women spoke of Loki, Marko. This person she had no knowledge of. This person she never knew. Even the name, was unfamiliar on her tongue, like a new taste she wasn't certain of. His past was like a window into his life, a truth, something that was certain, unlike the unpredictably of his character. For once she felt like she knew something about him, besides the color of his eyes or the way he made her feel. She felt like she finally held something honest and true, something she knew was real. There was something real about him.

She gave a sideways glance in his direction. She wanted to see his expression. If he refuted the information or accepted it as a truth. Her lips were pressed together as she examined him. His expression showed nothing of anger but neither did it show acceptance. He did not deny what she said, but neither did he accept it. She wondered if he truly lost the memories, or if he refused to remember them? With a past as tarnished as that one, one could understand not wanting to remember. She could understand not wanting to remember. She could understand the want to scrap your skull of every memory that pained you. Her hands reached up, fingers grazing the scar on her neck. Her lips set in a line, as her eyes lingered on Loki. She could understand it well.

Her attention was brought to the young boy who walked in, looking so much like both Loki's sister and himself, it was quite charming. She wondered if Loki appeared like such as a child. However, the thought was crushed when the woman walked back, holding her hand out and questioning her of her relationship with the said man. That alone was a brain storm in of itself. It was a pending question looming over her head. She didn't know what her position was next to Loki. Was she his lover, partner...girlfriend? Something so official and branded? She doubted girlfriend was the word. Her eyes strayed to Loki for a second. They held a moment of doubt, of question, of uncertainty. She pressed her lips together as she began to bite them. She would approach this as she approached any other operation she had no knowledge of, a clean and professional answer was all that was needed.

She slipped her hand in the other woman's. A gentle shake. A guarded smile on her lips.

"Amaterasu Ono. Were partners." The words were enough. They hung in the air with an empty meaning, even she could not even define.
 
"Loki Knight"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"Pleasure to meet you," She said with a warmth in her smile. So pure and bright like an angel.

You simply sat there not knowing what to say. The last thing you cared about at that moment was the deal with Cartier. All this new information flooded your mind. You pushed harder, remembering. Those memories had never been erased, simply covered. Now you pushed and poked at it, you saw the familiar scenes. The pain, the hurt, the confusion. The shreds of bright happiness had been when your mother applauded you for getting a good grade in school. Having friends. Being exceptionally talented. Everything miserable and great had been concealed together. And you felt broken right then and there. Life was so much simpler without having to worry about the complicated things in life. Knowing that you needed some time to process the information, you stood up.

"Thank you for today Sofia, but I think I still need some time to sort out all this ... stuff. I'll come by another day though." You said not knowing if this sentence was honest or a lie.

She stood up and embraced you with a hug, a comfort. Family. Love. Those emotions were long washed away. Letting you go she nodded and whispered, "Take care of yourself, and if you ever need anything... Just stop by."

She gave a quick hug to Ama, a knowing expression on her face. The woman wasn't stupid after all. Leading them to the door, a bitter sweet smile was painted upon her face.

"Keep him close, I'm putting my trust and faith into you Amaterasu Ono." She said softly as she waved goodbye.

You walked out and entered back into the elevator. Silent and feeling conflicted. As the elevator dinged, you were awakened by your distraction. Since it was getting dark, you and Ama walked alongside finding a quaint Italian restaurant. As a few people glanced at you, you ignored the attention, too deep in thought to observe. The waitress quickly gave you an empty booth and you sat down. Ordering whatever, you decided to pour out your thoughts.

"Well I'll be damned, I guess even I can be an idiot. Too cowardly to even remember ..." You said with a murmur.

"You know, the name they called me at the asylum was Loki as well? I refused to answer them unless I was called that. A name of a powerful Norse god. Huh guess I was a queer child." A slight smile playing at the corners of your lips.
 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••


She understood the pain memories brought. She understood the torture that came with their haunting. She understood it well. Memories tore you apart. There were ones filled with laughter and happiness but where there's joy there always sadness and regret. Her sister was too young to determine her memories from dreams, too young to be filled with anger and too naive to understand sorrow. She only wished she could use such an excuse. Her parents death was a memory she couldn't forget. No matter how many years past, the scar remained untouched.

Her eyes searched Loki's. Cowardly to remember? Why remember such painful memories? Why pain yourself with such unfortunate knowledge? It was useless. To know. To wake in the middle of the night, shaken by dreams you couldn't control. To be stricken with fear every time something triggers the memory. It was a nonsense he didn't need to feel. She hated it. She didn't understand it. Why wish for the memories he tried so hard to forget? Her thoughts strayed to the woman. His sister. Forgetting your sister was painful. She could understand wanting to remember her. She was a kind woman. ---but maybe he was simply confused. Receiving all this knowledge so suddenly...it was overwhelming.

She let out a breath , realizing her silence was prolonged for too long. She curled a lock of hair behind her ears, letting her lips curve at his small anecdote. She could have given a sly comment, a teasing play of words, but her thoughts were consumed by his earlier comment. For some reason, she was acutely aware of his loss of memory. She wanted to protect him from it. How strange it was. Even in her thoughts, the notion was strange. She didn't want him to remember. Not of those memories. Not of the memories that pushed him to edge, that created rumors and started the insanity.

She opened her mouth, before she closed it once again. A frown pierced her lips and her eyes strayed to the table. She had many things to say, but none of it produced a single thought. She was uncertain. This was new for her. These uncertainties, they seemed to only produce when Loki Knight was involved. She began again, this time more confident. Her shoulder straightened and her eyes met his.

"Why remember things that pain you? Its easier to forget them..." Her words were lost as the waitress came by with a tray of food. She set the plates down and walked away with a fleeting glance, Ama chose to ignore. Her eyes glance down to her plate of food, and she brought her fork down and began twirling her pasta.

"I mean to say...you ran away from your past. From what your sister said, it sounds like there is a valid reason why." Her hands paused twirling and glanced back up at him. " ...do you really want to run back into that..?"
 
"Loki Knight"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unknown. Secrets everywhere. Even the letters in his name...
Where was the honest truth? Only disguised emotions
Living in Passion and sympathy, to forgive and forget
But Everyone deserves their happiness -- even criminals ...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"Easier to forget but a challenge is always refreshing. I've lost most of my identity, it's about time I found it." You said quietly. Sipping the champagne as it floated about on your taste buds.

It was the truth. You wanted to uncover mysteries that had been pushed aside for too long. You were always up for an adventure but now you were reminded that she was here too. Did she want to come? Did she care? You had always been alone and relied solely on yourself. You never second guessed your choices since there was no one else to consider besides yourself. But this woman before you changed your mind within seconds. Your relationship with her sky rocketed in uncertain territory.

You stared at her, eating slowly and unsure what to say. You remembered the moments you had shared with this women. But indeed, you did not share your thoughts at the moment. Only your opinion and feelings upon certain topics. By the time the dishes were cleared, you paid for the money while walking with Ama back to the hotel. You knew that staying here would be a hazard to Sofia and her children. It was best that they leave before anyone found out the truth. Loki - that is Marko, had set your foot too deeply in criminal sins where you were wanted dead and alive by so many. Now that he found remnants of his past, you wanted to leave behind that world. Let the Legend of Loki exist as a compelling myth, a warning. Like a Christian being baptized, you would be reborn into a new person. A free man with your true name of Marko.

At the hotel, the two dispersed into separate showers. You yourself let the warmth of the steam relax your body. You watched as the scars from each dangerous risk etched across your skin. They had once hurt but now they remained as symbols of pride and remembrance. Getting out of the shower, you dressed in something comfortable and loose. Your white - blond hair was wet and matted, your features raw and prominent. As you retreated back to the room, you laid on the bed as you flipped on the news, hearing the drizzles of water drip in the other shower. It felt like old times. And you awaited for Amas company.

The games were on but your heart still craved for her. But you wanted to win. And to relive your temptation, you might as well distract yourself with some chatter.
 
Amaterasu Ono
She was a white rosé painted red. Pretending to be pure. Pretending to be good.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The water streamed down her body, down the scars she hated and the memories she wished were forgotten. Her hair clung to her back, as she arched her chin up and clenched her eyes shut. She's grown weak since she left the agency. Weak in her resolve. Weak in the walls she built around herself. Weak in her control. Being unemployed wasn't the problem. There were plenty of agencies that would love to supply her with a job and her own office. Money wasn't the issue. She had a large sum of money in her bank account to last her another lifetime. Maybe she was losing her confidence...maybe she was growing too comfortable in the situation between Loki and....herself.

Yet she wasn't exactly clear what their relationship was. She opened her eyes and turned the knob, turning off the shower. She stepped out the shower and slipped on her robe, wrapping her hair in a towel. She stared into the mirror as her thoughts churned. She decided she wanted to hang around Loki for awhile. She decided that she wanted him. When his sister told her, she had "faith" in her, she decided she needed to be around him if not only for his sake, but for hers as well. But what did he decide? It was clear that he wanted her. But for how long? How long will that affection last and what is the extent of it? She grew paranoid. With the knowledge of her own affection for him, she grew paranoid that his affection didn't match. What if it wasn't the same?

She let out a aggravated sigh. She hated this. She hated this. She never had to deal with this before. Her relationships with other men were never as complex as this one. It was always clear that they liked her and if they didn't she never really cared. They were all the same anyways. Sex and dating never once collided with love. However, now that....love has somehow come into the picture...its become such a hassle.

She pulled her robe off and slipped into a pair of shorts and a slim fitting tee. Her hair tumbled loose from the towel and she brushed her hands through the thick locks. She allowed herself another look in the mirror, before stepping out of the bathroom. She would find out tonight. The only way to find out was to ask directly. She was tired of mixed signals and games. She found Loki--marko laid across the bed, eyes strayed to the television. She walked over to the bed quietly, she took a seat beside him and spread her legs out in front of her. She stared ahead for a moment, piecing her words together before she the turned her head to stare at him. She felt a sort of shy, apprehensive feeling run over her as she observed his handsome features.

She cleared her throat, " I know its unfair of me to ask his right now. With discovering your memories to the situation were in right now, I suppose its not the right time." She bit her lip and took a breath. " but I need to know. For certain. What this is...between us? If this a game to you, tell me now before I fall too deep. I just...need to know where I stand with you...because I know where you stand..."