Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky [Open]

[rules_winter]

1. Bulding glass houses
Mab had finally staked out her home, something that had before been more of a manor she now was pouring will into, icing the facade. She'd been working intermittently for days now, spilling enough magic into the structure each time to build a new layer of ice without completely draining her resources. It simply wouldn't do to be caught out without some of her strength to use. By now the building reflected the sun back in glacial colors, and almost seemed to have it's own inner glow, a pulsing of variable colors that matched her eyes and would leave those without strong magic entranced if they gazed too long. The ice was thick enough that you could no longer see the stone that had originally created the structure and you could also no longer see the door. Icicles hung like deadly spears from the eaves and the windows glittered with facets.

She pulled her hands away from the side of the building and stepped back, breathing in deeply before looking up at her work. It was nearly done, a few more days and it would be a solid defense, beautiful, remote and deadly, standing at the top of a hill bare of trees though they gathered around about a half a kilometer from the base of the hill. She shook a hand as though weary before straightening completely and giving it all a proud look. Yes, this would do nicely. Snow started falling just in the general area, carpeting the top of the hill and scattering down into the grass and heather. The snow muffled all the other noises in the area making everything feel even more remote.

2. Air and Darkness

A pale figure seemed to shimmer into space between two trees in a wooded area of the Southeastern Greenbelt. As if she'd taken off a black cloak and let it fall to her feet she stepped out of the darkness and onto the grass overlooking Crystal Palace Park. Following her as though congealing at her feet is a creeping fog, a result of her own natural coolness hitting the warm summer air. In the darkness she puts a hand out to touch the worn stone pillar on a set of stairs leading down from the Italian terrace she is standing atop and ice forms along it, spreading along the surface and making soft cracking noises as the cool expands inside the stonework. Lambent eyes take in the area, assessing who is nearby. Even as she begins to walk down the steps, the fog starts spilling down them in her wake like a living thing, silent and sinuous.

Her gown trails down behind her and it is difficult to see where fabric stops and fog starts, it all blends together.

3. Newfangled technology

Mab stood unnaturally still, looking up at the sign above the store. The sign did not sound like it should sell cellular telephones but the window displayed them. The sign should be changed. She had the strong urge to fix it for them because it annoyed her. Finally she took a noticeable breath and her head moved, dropping to look at the door which hand a metal handle. Humans loved metal far too much. It was why she found gloves necessary but she still did not like to touch the bane. Even through her gloves it burned a little. Instead she waited a moment more for someone to open the door and she followed them in, letting the door close behind her without ever touching it.

She stopped again inside the store and looked askance at the rows of different phones many of which also seemed to have metal housing. The air in the store was cool enough it didn't noticeably cool when she entered but the window on the glass door behind her fogged a little until she began to walk farther in, eyes scanning across displays that seemed to be written in English but for the life of her none of them made any sense at all. Abbreviations, numbers, features. She stared down at one of the little cards and then looked up at the displayed phone. The screen glowed with pictures splattered across the screen. Tiny tiny pictures.


4. Anything else!
Hit me up, I know there are a few people I mentioned wanting to meet, if these don't fit for you let's work something out, baby.

Comments

[rules_winter]

Mab lifts her head as he can only mean her and she slowly turns so green green eyes focus on Jackson's. Mab stares for a moment like she's trying to see into his soul. He carries magic about him like a hastily thrown on bathrobe which is... interesting. Finally she touches the glass case careful not to frost it with her finger, pointing to the specs. "What does it mean?" She asks him with a frown. Her accent is some odd amalgamation of European and American with something else mixed in. He sounded American. Maybe East Coast? It was so difficult to keep up with changing languages some days.

She turns and looks down at the phone. "I need a cellular telephone with which to take messages." Mab doesn't know about any of the other things it can do. The important part is the messages. "It must stand up to cold, preferably in plastic." And suddenly he's been assigned as her salesman. Don't try to get out of it now buddy.

[damnyank]

The lady's looking at him with such intensity that any normal person would find it creepy and unnerving, but Jackson knows better. Mab's not looking at him, rather through him, looking past his skin to see whatever secrets are tucked inside. His posture stiffens on instinct, as though he's suddenly being cornered.

In a way, he is-- she seems old, powerful, and fae, and Jackson's learned to treat them like land mines. Helpful relations, should you find yourself a friend; more of a nightmare than any witch or vampire should you get on their bad side. That isn't too difficult, considering who he is, and how fickle and touchy they can be.

So he grins, and pretends to be obliging, walking over to her with his hands tucked into his pockets. He directs his eyes toward the display case in front of her, not really looking.

"All of these would serve you well. Though I'd suggest something less... complex." He pauses, looking back at her with a knowing look. "What's a lady like you lookin' for a device like this?"

[rules_winter]

Her eyes narrow a little at the suggestion that complexity would be a problem for her. When in reality it would, it can take older creatures a much longer time to grasp all the quickly changing technology of the current day. It's very different to be told so.

One pale brow lifts in response to his question. "I wish to take messages." That much should have been clear, in her opinion, based on her earlier description of what she was looking for. "And contact others." And not scare away witches because she had no way to call the numbers on the little cards they gave out.

"And which one is less... complicated?" She asked him her expression challenging.

[damnyank]

Being unrepentantly blunt is all a part of Jackson's sparkling personality. Though if Mab were to ask any of the staff here, they'd likely find her question embarrassingly dumb, so really, she should be grateful that he understands. But when are Fae ever grateful when it comes to mortals and their mundane ways?

He steps toward her, shoulders squared, a movement meant to assert his confidence. "Messages and contact? You can't call it a cellphone, if it don't perform either of those." He picks up one of Iphones, sliding the menu across the screen. "Now these? They can play music, tell the weather, surf the net-- even download an app that'll paste your pretty mug on a dog."

Tossing the phone at her, Jackson expects Mab to catch it. If she doesn't, well, hell, he ain't paying for it.

"Unfortunately, none of 'em will get you reception over there."

[rules_winter]

Her eyes track him as he picks up the phone and starts listing off all the things it can do that seem perfectly excessive to her. If you wish to know the weather, step outside. And she has no idea what surf the net means. Her eyes narrow a little at the idea of putting anything of hers on a dog.

And then without warning he tosses the phone at her. Mab's eyes widen a little and she steps back, the only thing that saves the phone is the little chord that keeps people from walking out of the store with it. It dangles near the ground. But she wasn't taking a chance when she didn't know what kind of metal it was. Even she couldn't veil her hand setting fire on contact.

This man. She stares at him now and there's distinct irritation in the look. "I was given to understand not having reception would not stop messages from being left and when one re-enters a service area they can be retrieved again." It seemed useless to deny what she was after avoiding a thrown device that no one should have been afraid to catch, but there was no need to broadcast anything. It is difficult to tell if he is being confrontational or is just naturally rude.

[damnyank]

The evasive move is all the proof he needs reaffirm his assumptions, seeing as Mab just made more of an effort not to catch the phone. His grin turns a shade satisfied, as he continues on subtracting the distance between them, two more steps forward.

"You're correct in that, ma'am." By now, Jackson's close enough to whisper. His tone is deep, rough against his throat. "Though I wonder-- what business does a fae have in matters of human technology?" One step closer. "Or rather, in our realm?"

[rules_winter]

She does not back away any further, allowing the man to close the distance. She's a tall woman, about six feet so she doesn't have to look up. He's ballsy, stepping right up in her personal space and though he isn't threatening, he sounds like he is.

Instead of increasing her anger, or looking fearful, Mab smiles slowly and it's sharp enough to cut. She takes a step in closing that space between them completely and her hand moves to slide up his chest in an intimate gesture as she turns her head to let cool air brush across his ear, lips close to his skin. "Bold, impertinent," those words come out sounding like honey. "It is sweet on you. What might you pay for the answers to your questions?"

[damnyank]

Jackson leans into her touch, seemingly lured in by tactile intimacy as one might expect of a man in such harmony with his baser instincts. But it's a ruse-- for he snatches up Mab's hand, trapping it tight within her own palm.

"I'm not one to make deals, especially not with your kind."

Her breath, her flesh, everything speaks of ice and cold, winter wrapped in flesh. It makes the hair rise on the back of his neck, as though a warning of what this beauty was capable of. But Jackson's no neophyte when it comes to relating with the supernatural-- he's knows exactly what a Fae is capable of, and thus keeps his defenses up through posturing.

"I just hope you're not intending to make trouble 'round these parts, now that you've got--" A beat, and he shows teeth as he talks. "Human interests."

[rules_winter]

Her skin is actually warm to the touch, she doesn't move when he rudely grabs her hand and her smile doesn't disappear. There's a touch of magic about him though he isn't currently using it. "Everyone makes deals. It is only a matter of time." That smile goes dangerously anticipatory as he marks his territory.

"Am I the one making trouble?" She asked, all curiosity and amusement. "It hardly seems that way. There is a phrase I believe you need to take to heart. Do not borrow trouble?" She is fairly sure that's the correct phrase. And that warm hand, all curled inside of his suddenly emanates with electric cold, the air around it sapping the heat out of anything nearby enough to be physically painful. Her lips brush his ear as she is still intimately pressed close to him, warm in contrast. "Trouble might gather interest." And just as the clerk comes back her expression clouds over to something resembling terror, a mask dropping into place her breath gasping in beside his head, eyes darting the the clerk as though begging for help.

The man drops what he's holding and rushes forward to intervene. "Is he bothering you Miss? Leave off man!"

[damnyank]

"That's why you've got to make deals with the right people." He responds, Mab's hand still caught in his grip. "But that's neither here nor there-- truth is, I wasn't intending to causing you any trouble, really, I'm just curious." A shrug. "Nice to know what's goin' on in my own backyard."

This is a confrontation that has needlessly escalated. A simple inquiry turned aggressive and threatening, and for what reason? No real reason. With his proclivity for being abrasive and insulting, Jackson has that affect on people, somehow always picking the right words for starting a fight

And it's obvious enough that most of Jackson's suspicions amount to prejudice. Fae were of another world, and venturing to the opposite realm meant bad news more than not.

"When your folk cross over, you don't come here for fun. That's too simple, too pedestrian for--" Jackson drops Mab's hand like a piece of hot coal, the electric cold burning his skin with a similar intensity. The pain draws a hiss from, but Jackson doesn't linger with the pain, unwilling to show that weakness.

"Well, ain't that cute of you."

Jackson opens his mouth to say something else, something about how buying a phone is essentially anchoring herself, in part, to the human realm, but he's cut short by the concerned salesperson's intrusion. In response, he lifts his hands away and puts on his best rendition of a sweet, docile smile, though it inevitably seems smarmy coming from him.

"Everything is a-okay. Just helping the lady out here." A beat. "Now, do you got my phone?"

[rules_winter]

Oh she likes him. He is rude and pushy and would be a delight to tame. As he steps back and raises his hands, Mab steps back as well, touching her other hand to the salesman's arm, she turns away from Jackson and gives the salesman a soft, grateful look. "I believe I will recover. Your assistance is appreciated." And as the man steps past her to give Jackson a glower for manhandling such a nice lady, she turns her head and smiles at Jackson, something truly alien in the smile. Devoid of the humanity and fragility she'd just shown the clerk.

The clerk frowns at the witch clearly debating telling him where he can stick the cellphone. Sometimes men were so conveniently protective. He stalks back over to the dropped box, the phone inside should be fine, the casing is well padded. As he does, Mab murmurs quietly enough for Jackson to hear, "Curiosity does not excuse rudeness. Perhaps you should keep that in mind if you see me again."

[damnyank]

Look at this hot shit coming over to puff out his feathers and act like this lady's knight in shining armor.

Jackson takes the other man's glower and reproach, and returns the favor with a spell. As the salesman goes to put back the display phone, the witch sends three tightly packed shelves of cellphone cases and accessories tumbling in a loud clatter to the ground. The shelves themselves follow suit and snap into pieces on the floor.

The man curses, Bollocks, and rushes to the chaos at the other end of the store in an attempt to stop the downpour of products, but he's too late.

"Got yourself quite a mess there." Jackson comments snidely, feigning innocence. "You'd think there was an earthquake."

He turns back to Mab, catching her before she exits the store. "Rude, you say." A laugh. "I call that being forthright, and besides, I doubt we'll see each other again. Not an appointment I intend to make."

Jackson's already been tamed, in a way. Gave up his life for a gal, and was forced to move to London due to said decisions. Then again, the lady of the house has been MIA for awhile now.

[rules_winter]

This is new. The man could go either way but property damage for selfish means tended toward the darker side of magic. She watched the spell hit and the merchandise and shelf hit the ground with a crash and the clerk's horrified focus turned entirely to the shelf allowing her laugh quietly, confidently. "Forthrightness does not generally involve assault. But I find it interesting that it was your first choice." She looked amused at his decision that they would never meet again. "Perhaps not." It sounds like she doesn't believe that for a second. And will perhaps go out of her way to find him again.

She isn't leaving, she came for a phone and she plans to get one. It was just a bonus that she ran into what was clearly a witch who walked a morally ambiguous line and didn't mind being aggressive about things. He's like a shiny new toy. She doesn't mind if he has a woman or an employer that he's given himself to. She just enjoys breaking that kind of moxie against her own will. It would take time but she has plenty of that. And if he fights back to a draw it might be even more interesting. Either way, Jackson is officially on her radar.