An Elf After Christmas

December 30, 2018:

Lena has a run in with an Elf - Misunderstandings abound.

Hell's Kitchen, NYC


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…


Having left the bar and its insane, annoying volume, Lena huffs out into the air but doesn't seem to cause a puff of white to escape her lips. She inhales, exhales, and smiles. Looking left, and right, there's a faint hue of pink to her cheeks a nose, a sign of drink more so than the chill itself affecting her flesh. Reaching up, humming, she slips off her heavy jacket and drapes it over a near by, busted bench. It wasn't much, there wasn't much to be had after all, but some slips of sidewalk did have clear sheets of powder left untouched.

Barearmed, she smiles, resting down on the layer of snow, moving her arms and legs to create an angel shape. Sitting up, she moves around it, twisting up horns on its head against the mess of tendril like locks left behind by her hair. Chuckling, she nods, standing and canting her head in study of her work. The snow continues to fall and she stands without care of it. Besides, the cold never bothered her anyway.


The making of snow angels is not something elves do. It's not something they'd even think about doing. So, seeing this human woman flopping in the snow and sweeping her arms and legs. It makes him curious and she he slips closer, silent as a shadow, to watch this odd odd ritual of sweeping snow about. Of course, what does draw some almost concern is that she is without covering. Was she perhaps magical? Another step closer, Darkedge is sensing her, not finding that telltale flavor in the air about her.


Basic human with a hint of alcohol, any other smell that comes off her skin is somewhat floral and sweet. Vanilla, lilac, and…frost. Clean, pure ice. Maybe there was something to her, but it wasn't exactly mystical. Brushing back her heavy sweeps of dark hair, some strips dyed vibrant hues of blue and violet, she turns back toward where she had left her jacket, not yet bothering to brush off any snow clinging to her being. So far, she wasn't aware of whoever was stalking closer but there is something that gives her pause. A feeling, perhaps. She was use to being alone, it wasn't hard for her to sense something was off.


No magic. No enchantments. No fae-blood. So odd, then, to see a human in this kind of cold with hair that unnaturally colored. Well, unnatural for a human. After all, the elf himself is sporting fine strands of metallic silver hair beneath the black hood. Slipping from the alley, Darkedge steps from the shadow of a building near him to the shadow she herself is casting. His head tilts again, finally certain that the woman is giving off no magic of any kind.

"You are an odd thing," he says finally, breath puffing faintly with his softly spoken words.


Lena didn't like that. The sudden showing of…someone, voice first and body later, causes her to tense and slide back. Growling, she levels up with the figure, hands up and balling into loose fists. "And you're not very nice. Manners, dark stuff…" She warns, her tone apathetic at best, but that twitch at the corner of her nose giving her away to a fight if it called for it. "Can I help you?"


Not very nice? The elf's head tilts slightly, and the low light makes his dark-loving eyes seem to gleam like a cat's. He can read the 'fight' on her frame, and his eyes flit down her body, head to toe, then back up to her face. She was ruled to be little physical threat to him, so long as he did not act carelessly.

"Perhaps. Explain this ritual, if you would?" he replies, chin motioning toward her impression in the snow.


Ritual? That term, phrase really, causes her to blink in confusion. Her often stoic, if not cynical expression softens briefly. Keeping herself focusing on him, she shifts her body instead of her head, finally seeing what he was talking about. "Ritual?" she voices at length, her fingers twitching before resting down by her thighs. "It's a snow angel. Well, Lucifer perhaps given that its fallen." She shrugs, her slender shoulders bobbing up briefly. "Nothing ritualistic about it, I'm afraid. It's just…fun. Better on ground with more snow, but I'll take what I can get." From her jump and reaction, the drag of her boots, the 'gown' of the angel was now completely ruined.


"A snow.. angel?" he repeats, copying her inflection just as close as he can and revealing in that moment that English is not his first language. He steps closer, peering down at what she had made in the snow.

"Alas, I can not grant you more snow, that I might see this ….fun… more properly." He almost sounds apologetic as he says this. "Will you show me again, nonetheless?" he asks, reaching up with his four-fingered hands to push back his hood.


"You don't have to. I make my own." She smirks, slipping closer to her jacket and pulling it back over her body. "Not here, though…there's a park near by. Shitty, cluttered, but there's some openings that aren't littered with glass." For whatever reason, she agrees. For now, she can't decide why.

Should he follow, or not, she moves away from the bar and down a few blocks to this fabled park. There was more snow here, a couple more inches, but digging into her side pocket, she pulls out what looks like to be small glass balls, swirling with some shimmering blue substance. It's mechanical, surely, but looks otherworldly. Pressing a button, the orb starts to pulse, and is soon set flying up and into the air with a toss of her hand. It beeps and shatters, scattering the air with a fresh layer of cold air pressure and moisture. Soon enough, in that small area alone, there is fresh snow.


She can make snow? Without magic? Darkedge is now even more curious, so he nods and follows along where this human leads. The orb is peered at. How she manipulates it is studied. The swirl of it and the fact that it still does not seem magic are noted.

And then she tosses it and snow fills the space.

Darkedge's silver brows lift. The elf is impressed. A gloved hand is held out, letting snow settle on his palm and his outstretched fingers. These flakes are pulled in for a closer look. Still he senses no magic.



No magic, only science. Either way, the snow is just that - snow. It falls, floats, lands, melts, just like the real thing. "Alright, Jack," she names him, noting his shoking pale hair and its hue. His fine features are also not lost on her. "I'm not going to show you again. I think you can do this on your own." Eyeing his fingers, or lack there of, her brows furrow before relaxing. "Go ahead. Try. Just fall back, t-pose, and fan your arms and legs. Arms up and down, legs open and shut."


"Darkedge," he retorts to the name he was given, letting his hand fall to his side. Faced with her almost demanding he fall into the snow, the elf frowns lightly before shaking his head.

"No. Do show me your snow angel Lucifer." he returns.


"I like Jack. Y'know, like Jack Frost. You look a bit chilly yourself." Shrugging, she nods and looks back to the snow, waiting for him to comply. "Lena." She offers as an after thought. Then, he declines. "Oh, come now. It won't hurt you. Better to learn by doing, anyway. Com'on." She offers, waving her fingers his way and even opening her hand to him. "I'll show you only if you join me. Fair?"


"I am not chilled," he replies, before those silvery eyes blink twice and his gaze falls more heavily upon Lena.

"I am not Jack Frost. He is of the Court. I am… surprised you would still know what he allowed humans to call him after all this time. He has, for several many of your lifetimes, not come to this realm," says the elf, before accepting her name in exchange for the public one of his own. But then she makes an offer.

He pauses to at least consider this.

"What… purpose does this serve?" he finally asks.


"What are you talking about?" She stalls out, staring now at the light haired being as he starts spewing out information with conviction. "I-what? I…wait…what court?" To her, Jack Frost wasn't 'real', a festive, wintery spirit in some way, but not someone of note.

Then, it dawns on her. "Ah, oh," hand up that he didn't claim, she rubs at the bridge of her nose. "You're not human. I think I get it now. Anyway, I don't know if we'll meet again after this, so I'll just…leave all that curiousity alone." Then she looks at the snow and gives her hand back out. "It's purpose is to teach. Whatever you are, have some guts. I'm tipsy enough to give a damn and have fun. You don't use this, you'll lose it."


"The Fairy Courts," states the elf. he was sure she had some knowledge. After all, she sumoned snow in an inexplicable to him manner and then called the Frost King by human name. He still wasn't sure that she didn't have some drop of fae within her.

"I am informing you that while I am not insulted to be called royalty, I am not Frost himself. Nor am I the same sort of fae as he," he replies, head tilting again. Was not the hair or the hands or the pointed ears not enough to mark him as not human? His previous ascersion of her stands: she is an odd one.

"No. I am not human. I am Elf." he confirms for her, eyes dipping to her out stretched hand. Jewelry, but nothing dangerous looking nor made to stab through the leather of his glove, he reaches out to put his hand in hers. But he doesn't curl his fingers around her hand. Liekly, he might not know what to DO with her hand as it was offered to him.

"You.. want me to ..use your hand?"

Yup. Elf is highly confused by humans.


"Fairy courts," she repeats, letting her hand hang in the air for now. She was too busy staring. She didn't give him an odd look at least, she was listening. Attentive, even - the news of something unnatural was at least not unheard of here or anywhere in the world anymore. Her meeting one, though, was the rare thing.

"Elf, huh? What kind?" The rings on her fingers were white gold or silver, at best. Some holding blue hued gems or violet, even aquamarine. There was no iron to speak off on her person, at least not on her hand.

"Christ, are all elves dense about how to play in snow? I mean…Elves play, don't they? The little ones? Or are those gnomes…" Shrugging, she grips his fingers and moves around, standing with her arm out straight, moving his up to make the same shape. She couldn't help his other arm. Her other arm stretches out and like she said before, she stands in a 't' shape. "On three we fall." She states, counting to one and then allowing herself to drop back. She might drag him down with her, but her own body plops down into the drift, causing it to puff up as she giggles.


The staring he was used to. Darkedge bears up well under it, eyes watchig her watching him.

"The closest I can translate is 'undercave'," he replies, thumb tracing over the gems in her rings. Never once have those been touched by magic. He can feel that much.

"Some elves might. Those of the surface, those of little care or worry, may," is said while he allows the manipulation of one arm of his person. He watches her curiously, sensing and sensing for any magic in this that would bind him or ensorcell him or in some other way but unwanted. And like before, his sensing comes up with nothing.

She falls backwards, dropping to the snow drift. Tugged, he drops back too, but awkwardly for the making of snow angels. He lands, sitting up still, so he can watch her giggle in the snow.


"Alright, 'unterhohle'." She murmurs, glancing up his way to see that he, did not, land on his back as she instructed. "Here I thought I was the kill joy in most situations. Guess it's the booze talking." Arms out, legs in, she moves then as she had before, this time creating taller mounds of powder at either side of the 'wings' and 'gown'. "See? Easy. Lay back and try it."

Once she was done, she relaxes there in that mold, her eyes shut and feeling the chill sink into her very pores.

"What does an 'undercave' do? You're too light skinned to be a drow, I think. Unless I'm just wrong about that." A pause, "You don't worship death and spiders, do you?"


What an interesting new word: unterhohle. Darkedge ponders over what it could mean even as he is invited to drop back intot he snow. A glance around makes it clear to him and… he'd rather not have to start a fight flat on his back.

"I do not know what 'drow' is, but no death not spiders are worshipped. We do like in caves. I did not see the sun until my first time on the surface. All elves of my kind are ..I am very dark compared to they, for I have lived upon the surface for many centuries."


"You're dark complected compared to the others like you?" She quirks a brow his way, her face covered by a small roll of powder. The shape was made, just as he requested, and once done the girl stands and moves away from it. Her boots crunch against the snow, and as before she slips the 'horns' into place of where a halo might go. "There, see? Easy. Now, since you're down there, 'dark stuff', why don't you try it out?"


"I am. I have, unlike they, actually seen sun and moon light," states the elf. His head tilts watching her move and create the unrecognizable silhouette.

"Easy… what… is it?" he asks finally, still not moving to make one of his own.


Lena blinks. Her arms shift and cross against her chest. "You're…kidding me, right? You asked for another snow angel and I made you one." She explains, her expression shifting to something more stoic and possibly annoyed. The alcohol was well and truly wearing off. "It's nothing. It's just fun. No purpose, no meaning. Don't make one if you don't want, I'm just starting to get all 'funned' out." The snow, which was temporary, finally ceases its fall, resting the last of its fat flakes on the ground.


His eyes return to the human, tilting as her mood shifts… again. So quick are things for humans, that the elf takes a full five seconds to 'catch up'.

"But… what is an angel?" is asked, teh elfstill sittin gin the cold snow, seeming completely unphased by the freezing temperatures.


"A holy figure often associated with Christianity. They're suppose to be beings of good and light, but…some eventually fall. Like Lucy down there." She offers, motioning to the shape on the ground. "I'm not a religious type so I can't go into detail for you, I'm afraid." A pause, "I thought elves were suppose to be wise."


The information is processed before the elf nods.

"A figure from your mythos," he repeats, as if clarifying.

"Not all are and my knowledges are rather specific, says he, looking at the firuge in the snow again before setting his hands down by his hips as if he were preparing to press himself up.


"Is it really, though? I mean, you were a myth to me, too, but…here you are." Shrugging, she reaches up and pulls her hood into place. "Take care out there, cave boy, you're…you're going to need it." Giving him a glance, something akin to pity, the girl pivots and heads off, making way to exit the park.

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