Lucy Ells (hellsells) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-12-22 15:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-08-05, zaviar |
I can see the venom in their eyes
Who: Lucy and Zaviar
Where: the pet store
When: afternoon sometime
Iris was complaining about her food - she wanted it live, not frozen. Lucy had no problems with this, except for one thing: if Iris got lazy and didn’t eat all her food right away, there was a chance that the mice might escape and nest somewhere in the apartment, which was bound to piss Galen off. Since she didn’t actually want to torture her brother, and her enormous familiar was close enough to doing that as it was, she’d kept to the frozen feeder mice until now. After extracting a promise from Iris that she wouldn’t let any of the mice escape, Lucy tugged on her boots and went to the pet store to procure the promised rodents.
Lucy didn’t really see why anyone would keep mice as pets, but then she hadn’t ever cared much about snakes either before Iris had come into her life. And now here she was in a pet store to buy prey for her demanding snake familiar, distracted by some of the more colorful snakes in their terrariums. One of them was looking right at her, so she put a few of her fingers on the glass. “Hello there, beautiful.” Iris would likely eat the thing in a single swallow, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look.
Zaviar should have predicted that Knight was going to have a fit when he came home with the dry dog food instead of what his familiar had explicitly said he wanted. The problem with predictions was that he never made them if they were an unimportant matter and his familiar’s eating habits were unimportant. So long as the dog did not get into the chocolate then he could care less. Dogs could eat the same food as humans, could they not? But the dog simply would not shut up and had made a threat that could not be ignored against the painting of Madeleine. So Zaviar had, despite his misgivings about going out into the rain yet again, driven to the pet store to buy the food that would keep his annoying dog from doing just what one should expect from a lesser being.
His hair was stuck to his forehead when he walked in, the scents and smells assaulting all of his senses. Almost immediately he covered his mouth, features arranged in a show of dislike that vanished as soon as it had come. The scent of other snakes was what really did it and Zaviar found himself stepping towards where the snakes were kept instead of the dog food section. While part of him sneered at the sight of snakes in containers when they should be out and free he did have to admit that they were lovely to look at. Though that one probably did not appreciate having its glass pressed again. The little bit of space that was its in the world should not be invaded. “You planning on buying a snake?” Zaviar asked, his tone almost absent as he peered at the same snake.
The snake she was looking at was an albino ball python, at least according to the label on the glass, and it was still just a baby. A pretty baby, but a baby nonetheless. Lucy rather preferred the more colorful and distinctive snakes - not that any could really measure up to Iris. She was almost as vain about Iris as Iris herself was. Lucy had never been the pet type, though. After a few annoying pets in the foster homes she’d spent her early years in, she’d never particularly wanted one, and for a long time she and Galen couldn’t have afforded one even if she had. Iris wasn’t a pet, though, she was a familiar, and that meant a boost in powers that Lucy found more than worth the money she spent on taking care of her.
When the man next to her spoke, she let her hand drop from the glass and turned her head. She had thought it would have been a store employee, and was relieved when it was another customer instead. Today was not a day when she felt like receiving a sales pitch. “No, I was just looking. I have one at home already that would eat this one for a snack,” she answered matter-of-factly. “She doesn’t play well with others.” Which wasn’t entirely true; Iris was just fine with those who brought her food and/or adoration. But another snake probably wouldn’t go over well.
Baby snakes were always, as far as Zaviar was concerned, interesting to watch. Despite their young age they had that natural predatory knowledge that allowed them to strike and devour their prey. Unlike so many mammal predators or even the birds who needed to learn to fly they simply knew what to do without a bit of attention from their mother. He liked to think that it was that that had led him to grow up without needing a parental figure, that instinctual drive. And it was so nice to see it displayed by the younger versions of that species he had a habit of identifying with every bit as much as he did humans.
Now that sounded like a large snake. I wonder if Althea would like to have a snake as a snack. A thought to file away and address later when his attention was not divided between the snake and the woman who was only looking. “Perhaps your snake would enjoy that one for a meal, then,” Zaviar said, completely meaning the statement. Yes, he identified a little with the baby snake but that was true of all snakes and it was also true that the ones who survived to grow large were ones that had somehow avoided being eaten. Not all of them were capable. “What type of snake do you have?” It was one of the very few topics which he would willingly stand and converse with someone about. Of course, the desire to stay out of the rain for as long as possible may have had something to do with it.
While some people might be bothered by the idea of feeding one pet to another, Lucy wasn’t. She just couldn’t afford to. “That would be a very expensive snack,” she replied, though she made a mental note to herself to ask Iris what she would like for a treat if given the choice. Maybe Lucy would get her something special when the holidays came around or to celebrate when Lucy advanced a level in her magic. “She’s a Peruvian rainbow boa.” Iris definitely qualified as one of the ones that had survived to grow large. Her familiar might be lazy and vain now, but she hadn’t been back in her native jungle. And she was still fierce when she wanted or needed to be - that just wasn’t often in an apartment in a city. Iris was large enough to kill a person, though, so she was certainly large enough to eat smaller snakes for breakfast.
“You have a snake?” Lucy asked, assuming that was why he was curious about her snake as well as so matter-of-fact about their feeding habits. Either way, this was still more enjoyable than her last conversation in the pet store had been. The guy she’d met then had made the back of her mind itch and she’d been all too tempted to lash out at him. She’d gotten the same vibe from the girl in the library, actually, and wondered if it was something peculiar to Scarlet Oak natives. Or maybe it was just an annoying side effect from one of her spells. No matter; the only important thing is that she wasn’t experiencing it now.
Peruvian rainbow boa. Zaviar wracked his mind to pull up the image of the snake. While he did not have any snakes now, and had not for quite a time, he had been a collector of them when he was younger and there had always been that fascination that forced him to learn all that he could of their different types. Boas were fascinating for how they ate, all constrictors were, and if he remembered correctly than the snake this woman had just named could grow to be very large. Larger even than his snake form and probably closer to the size of Althea. What fun it must be to have a snake like that in the house. His foster parents would have forbidden it but luckily for everyone who had known him while he was a child there were not snakes that grew to that size in Michigan.
“No,” Zaviar replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. They too had gotten wet on the trip in from the car and were beginning to chill. “My friend has one for a familiar though and I was very interested in them as a child.” And then, why not? He had told Amelia at their meeting only a few days past that he was very much out about being a were, which was the truth. Zaviar saw no reason to hide his nature and if it brought police to his door asking whether or not he ate babies then he would go with them and brush the accusations off for as insane as they were. He was not a cannibal. Plus there was that additional benefit of just how much it could shock people despite the Light of May being months in the past. “But I am one; when I feel like it.” Maybe she would turn out to be a terrified vanilla. He could practically live off horrified looks.
Lucy didn’t want to think about what her foster parents would have thought if she’d come home from playing one day with a snake like Iris following behind her. On the one hand, she would have found out about being a witch sooner, which she couldn’t object to. She’d wondered in a vague sort of way how old she would have been where her parents told her what she was - what they were. It was one of the only things that made her at all curious about her long-dead parents. On the other hand, while having a large snake around might have kept her protected for a little while, Iris wasn’t poisonous, so animal control likely would have been called. And Lucy would undoubtedly have had to deal with the retribution. Of course even if familiars had existed when Lucy was a child, Iris would probably still have waited for Lucy to be old enough to come down to Peru herself so she wouldn’t have to try to make the journey up to the States on her own. Lazy snake. A lazy snake that was still growing, no less, and was larger than most captive specimens simply because she hadn’t been limited in either food or space in the jungle.
If Zaviar was counting on Lucy being intimidated, or vanilla, or both, he was going to be disappointed. In fact, Lucy hadn’t met nearly as many weres as she would like in the months since the Light of May, and was glad to do so now. She even held out her hand as she introduced herself. “Lucy Ells. You’re a weresnake, then?” Lucy was, of course, familiar with the case of the two baby boys that had been, well, eaten. She watched and read almost every news source she could get her hands on, out of both personal and professional curiosity. So she made note of who she was talking to, though she didn’t actually think a weresnake had anything to do with the attacks. Cannibals were exceedingly rare, after all, and as far as she knew there was no reason for a were, snake or otherwise, to consume human flesh as any sort of biological necessity. Still, it might be interesting to look into. “Iris - my boa - is my familiar as well, actually.”
Huh. Well, Zaviar was more used to people looking at him like he was something gone horribly wrong but this was not too bad. For all that he had expected to get a chuckle out of the situation. Though accepting her hand required him pulling his hands out of his pocket, which he did not want to do, and contact with another person, which he was also remarkably not fond of. Yet he still forced himself to pull on that public, pleasant face and took her hand in his own for a shake. “Zaviar Abdella. And yes, I am, king cobra.” If she was going to know that he was a snake then she was also going to know that he was the top of the snake world. The mention of a familiar was also interesting, though not necessarily something that meant was worth his time more than an elemental - yes, with one exception. Now if she was a witch then she was interesting. But only then. “Having a familiar means that you’re either an elemental or a witch as I understand it. Forgive my curiosity but I’ve met both with familiars in tow and am always interested in knowing what sort of person I’m speaking with.” Since he was speaking.
Lucy wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely sort herself, but as a reporter she had to shake a lot of hands. So she did, quickly, efficiently, and not in the limp, lingering way that too many women were socialized to do. Though she’d learned a great deal about snakes since Iris had come into her life, she didn’t know anything specifically about king cobras; that would change as soon as she got home. For the moment all she knew was that meant his snake form would be hooded and quite poisonous. Would his poison in snake form kill someone, or would they be transformed by the bite quickly enough to be immune, or at least heal quicker than the poison hurt? Not a question one went around asking people one had just met, but maybe they could hypothesize at some point if they got to know each other better. “I’m a witch,” she answered proudly, and a born one at that, though she didn’t mention that part.
Another reason to dislike shaking hands - Zaviar had heard of those people who could gain insight into someone’s mind or feelings or past just from touching. His own mind was truly not a place that he felt like sharing. “A witch,” Zaviar repeated, hearing the note of pride in her voice. A note that he knew rang out in his whenever he decided to reveal that other side of his nature. True he was not born and being learned meant that there were certain things he could not do as well, but he had the advantage of his blood on his side and not even all of the born witches could lay claim to that. At least this one did not give off that vibe like the redhead that he associated with a goodness that sickened his stomach. “A pleasure, to meet another witch.” It was the thing about himself that Zaviar kept more secret but not in the presence of those he viewed as his own kind. “Have you practiced long?” Even the born could be born into families who did not practice and took time to learn their craft.
While she had no idea that she was demon-blooded, Lucy was well aware of how powerful some of her spells were as well as the fact that she could do things at a lower level than many other witches could. Some of it she put down to being a born rather than learned witch, and the rest she put down to simple natural talent. Other people were good at music, or sports; Lucy was good at magic. Her expression grew more genuine as the conversation went on as she moved smoothly from being polite for civility’s sake to sincerely interested in Zaviar. She didn’t know enough witches yet that she’d tired of meeting new ones, especially when there was always a chance that she could learn something new. “For ten years now,” she admitted. A late start, in her mind, compared to when she would have liked to have started in retrospect, but a respectable age for most people, and especially so considering she’d been bounced around foster homes until she was seven.
Maybe it was because he was so used to keeping this or that sort of mask on that Zaviar noticed the disappearance of ‘social’ politeness versus the more genuine sort. And ten years? But she looked as though she could have been edging in on her twenties if she was not there yet. Maybe she was not born after all if it had taken her that long to begin. Or she had been raised by a different family or something that prevented usual teachings. Which Zaviar based off of what he had been told by the witch who had began teaching him when he was still living with his aunt. But there is nothing wrong with being a learned. Clearly. “Ten years is a good length of time.” Meant that she had likely worked herself past the beginner levels - the presence of a familiar signified that as well - and was worth more time than someone who simply dabbled. Dabblers were better than pretty much anything else, including that odd redhead at the magic store, but still. “Have you met very many witches here?” Zaviar had not. Just Domina in the forest and then the redhead; that he knew of.
Yes, she’d started late, and yes, she resented it, but she’d advanced rather quickly over those ten years, especially for someone who was almost entirely self-taught. Lucy had found her parents’ books and notes - she still wasn’t entirely sure whether it was her mother or father or both that had actually practiced, or even if some of the things belonged to her grandparents rather than her parents - and worked it out from there, only later getting advice or information from people she’d sought out on her own. “I would like to have started sooner,” she told him, careful not to come across as defensive; she was simply giving him the facts. “But my parents got themselves killed in an accident, so I didn’t know until I was nearly ten that magic runs in the family. Or even that it existed.” Lucy also avoided anything that might hint at her blaming her brother; she wished that Galen had known about it sooner, but didn’t blame him for not. It was doubtful that she could have kept her books safe and private in their foster homes anyway, and she could think of more than one foster parent who would have destroyed them.
“I haven’t met many witches here, but I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks.” She was just here on summer vacation, after all. At least for the moment. “Mostly only the proprietors of the occult shops in town.” There were others, of course, both that she knew about and those she didn’t, but Lucy had a reporter’s instinct for protecting her sources. She wasn’t going to give the names of witches whose identities might not be public to a man she’d just met simply because he claimed to be one himself.
The mention of family did away with the idea that she was learned. Zaviar, however, had no reaction at the news of dead family. That was something he had grown up with - had helped to cause - and really, they were only people. If they had died when Lucy was young enough then chances were that she did not even remember them. Probably just mentioned them to explain why it had taken her so long to get started in on the magic that ran in her veins. Had he been the sort to practice blood magic then he would have started wondering then if the different types of magic practiced affected the blood and the spells that came because of it. Oh, right, she’s still talking. “I’ve only met a few as well.” The idea that witches still hid their identities was not all that surprising to him. With anyone he did not believe to be a witch Zaviar would not want to reveal himself either. It was a strange little quirk of his that he was not sure he could explain if he had to. “Which is too bad, I was hoping that after the Light more would step forward to help enhance learning. Even if some of us are a little close with our spells.” His eyes flicked back to watch as one of the smaller snakes coiled itself lazily around a branch that reached up towards its lamp. “My familiar is a German shepherd, Knight. Your Iris is probably capable of swallowing him whole.” Althea had considered it on their first meeting, that he remembered.
That was exactly why she’d mentioned it. Lucy wasn’t at all upset for the loss of her parents themselves, though she did resent the several years after their deaths until Galen got custody of her. Since then she’d never believe that there was anything wrong with her life. While she might wish for more money, or power, who didn’t wish for those things? And she’d rather have worked for everything she had - and she had, whether that work was natural or supernatural - than be a spoiled rotten waste of space. “Well, there are always covens,” she pointed out, though she imagined that they were more common with practitioners of white magic than those who practiced the darker types. Both because of the nature of the magic itself, and the likely propensities of its practitioners. Lucy herself usually didn’t even disclose her status as a witch except to other supernaturals, let alone her spells. “I think it wouldn’t be difficult to start one, as long as there were ground rules and fail-safes in place.” If there were covens claiming to be responsible for summoning demons, Lucy might find it worthwhile to join one. “To be honest, she’s too lazy to eat anything that big, unless she was provoked. Either civilization has spoiled her, or she’s saving her energy for something important.” Either way, Lucy didn’t mind. The familiar’s mere presence was enough to give her a boost in powers, and Iris had demonstrated more than once her willingness to attack the unwary back in New York.
Oh that was right, some witches gathered into covens. Zaviar had tried looking into a few of those over the years only to find that most of them were nothing more than shams. People pretending to religions they did not actually believe in just as an excuse to do this or that. Usually they had a genuine witch in their ranks somewhere but they did not seem to really care whether or not there were others. Because the witches he was interested in did tend to have at least a slight problem with wanting the power. White witches were more likely to have some sort of a draw to support each other. And he had absolutely no interest in working with people who practiced that sort of magic. “It could be worth looking into,” he remarked after a moment, shifting enough to look at the signs hanging in the aisles, picking out which one had the dog food so he would know where to go when he was done with this. “Snakes tend to be notorious for saving their energy if there isn’t something worth it. And if you’re feeding her, which I assume you are, then there’s no reason for her to go out hunting. Do you share what sort of magic it is that you practice?”
Lucy hadn’t had many occasions to discuss the specific types of magic she practiced, so it hadn’t come up enough for her to form a personal policy on it. She didn’t see that it would harm her any to disclose that information now, whereas being vague would probably hurt more than help. “Black magic, mostly,” she answered, waiting calmly for his reaction. Not that she expected a negative one; from how the rest of their conversation had gone, she didn’t think he would be surprised. Besides, there was nothing illegal about using black magic, at least not yet, and not all of it was curses and spells meant to harm. That didn’t mean she had to admit outright to practicing blood magic as well, at least not there and then. She was low-leveled in blood magic, and hadn’t ever hurt anyone to get their blood for a spell, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t take some measures to keep that information private. There were undoubtedly a lot of people who wouldn’t believe her, or wouldn’t care even if they did, and Lucy really didn’t need the trouble.
And there it was, an admission that made this little side-trip from what he had planned to do worth it. There were likely not enough black witches in the area and adding one to the number that he knew of - which made three or four now - was something he saw no problem with. “Ah, the worthwhile kind,” Zaviar remarked with a nod of his head, turning his eyes away from the snake in the cage to study Lucy a little more thoroughly. For anyone who could not blame it on being a were-snake who blinked remarkably little it would have been called staring. Actually it probably still would be. Zaviar just did not care. Blinking was annoying and cut off the world for that fraction of a second when maybe there was something that you needed to see. “Well Lucy, it was interesting, but I have to finish my errands and return home.” The weather was still too unpleasant for him to want to spend any longer out of the comfort of his home than he had to. That, and prolonged conversations were not his thing.
Lucy took that to mean that Zaviar was a black witch as well. That was good to know; if she needed information or help with a spell, it was always good to have another source. It was habit to gather sources of all kinds, just in case. You never knew when they would come in handy. Lucy had learned a long time ago that it often came down to who and what you knew more than anything else, and that was even before she’d gone into journalism. Now her life’s work was essentially trade in information, and sources were valuable. “It was nice meeting you, Zaviar. I’m sure I’ll see you around again soon.” They frequented the same places, after all, and Lucy rarely let potentially valuable people slip off her radar.