Does the light bring with it a light future?

[Vey,]

A bright pink sun was just peeking its way above the mansions or Upside-Town, casting long shadows over something that didn't quite look like it- or rather, she- belonged. Indeed, among the lavish houses and perfect manicured lawns, this girl, who appeared to be about 19, was completely out of place. With her ragged jeans, just-got-up hair, and a pair of converse that looked as if they'd been on the feet since the 80s, not even she thought she belonged here.

So why was she? Io wasn't even sure herself. She had come to Odirais Isle to find werewolves like herself, and this probably was the worst place to look for them... And speaking of, how had she planned to find them anyways? Just go door to door, take a poll? Io inwardly facepalmed. Now that she thought about it, nothing was going to go as she had planned. For once she was one the right side of the tracks, and it was, so she thought, the exactly wrong place to be.

Distracted by her own thoughts, Io didn't realize the large rock sitting right in her path, and had a passerby been looking, it would have seemed the rock was just daring her to trip over it. Well, shockingly, Io didn't disappoint. One of her conversed feet struck the rock, and down she went, landing with most of her weight on her hands, thankfully. Frustrated, she just lay there, softly banging her head against the asphalt of the road. If only the norms weren't around, she could have had her tail out and avoided the whole mess.

When she finally picked herself off the road, Io realized just what she was standing in front of. It was an incredibly lavish manor, high security and all, it seemed. For the moment, she was hypnotized by the gargantuan building and all its' details, and wondered who could possibly live there.

[+.Henry.+]

What a fine morning it was. The shower ran like a king's, the sun was peeking through the window, draping its light over the pale blue walls, the bed was-- who was he kidding! Forget all of that! No, what made this morning so fine was something that could win the praise of the Gods.

Coffee. The dark brown substance poured into the pot, a sweet hazelnut aroma filling the kitchen. Ismirshalen leaned over the counter, his nose pressed to the glass, sniffing it in dreamily, feeling the warmth go all the way down to his toes. Mmmmm... Heaven. Nothing could beat coffee. The only bad thing about it was having to stand there waiting for it to be ready. Izzy's butler had purchased the fastest one ever made, but it was still not fast enough for him! He hoped they would invent a newer model soon. The black-haired teen shivered with excitement. Coffee, coffee, coffee!

Finally the splendorous substance was done oozing out from the Mr. Coffee Maker, and with a flourish Izzy whipped it into his hand, pulled over a mug, and poured himself a hefty serving. Then he proceeded to adding the cream and sugar and mixing it, looking like he was on autopilot. Coffee-making must have been a subconscious thing for him. The teen took the mug, walked over to stand by the kitchen window, looked outside, and froze with the steaming mug just touching his lips.

Standing outside his house was a pretty out of place looking girl. Who was staring at his house with a sort of stupefied expression on her face. Huh. Maybe she was lost. It never occurred to the guy that his hous-- no, mansion-- might be just a little bit above normal living standards. Let's just say Izzy had a bottomless stash of money.

Dressed in a black sleeveless turtleneck and a pair of black leather pants with knee-high black boots, Ismirshalen walked out the front door, calling over his shoulder, "Chives, we've got a guest! Make breakfast for two!" He then closed the door and proceeded to walking over to the girl, stepping on a pathway made of gold. No kidding. It was made of pure gold. For that matter, the driveway was checkered with white marble and gold. Scratch that, even. The mansion was covered with gold, though in a way that it was breath-catching and not downright insane. Anyway, he walked down the path of gold, sipping his coffee [which tasted great], and in no time at all was standing in front of the girl. Izzy held out his hand to her and smiled crookedly, his bright blue eyes sparkling. Probrably from all the coffee. For all he drank, he was probrably running purely on caffeine.

"Hello, my dear!" he said cheerfully in a strong British accent. Very posh. "How are you on this fine day? You look hungry! Would you care to come inside? I have a meal prepared for us both! Of coarse, only if you could spare the time. I would not want to get in the way of anything. I have also got a shower, if you need to use it. And anything else you might need, I can ask Chives to get you it. Oh dear, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ismirshalen Linnaeus! What may your name be, my dear?"

Obviously this guy didn't get out that much.

[Vey,]

The lavish mansion only became more and more stunning the longer Io gazed at it- the marble, the gold, everything! It made her think back to her roots in Germany. They hadn't been poor, not by a long shot- but their 3 room house was nothing compared to this. How many people could live in it? How many people were living in it, even? She couldn't even imagine. If Io had been living there, she would have just invited everyone she knew to live there, too... That is, if she really knew anyone these days. Unfortunately, any friends she had were back in England, probably forgetting about her already...

She shook her head to clear it of those memories- today was about the future. And judging by the strange-looking fellow that had just appeared from the front door, something was about to happen. Only, Io suspected at first that he was just coming out to shoo her off the street side- she figured what he would say, "Filthy creature, get out from in front of my home! What will the neighbors think if they see you here! Shoo, get out!" But what he actually said when finally reaching her was far more surprising.

As he held his hand out, she tentatively took it, and shook hands. His voice excited her, however- British. It reminded Io of her previous home again.. More memories, ah! His inquiries ensured she wouldn't be sucked into the past yet again. An eyebrow quirked, she let go of his hand. "Er... Hi.." Oh, very smooth, Io. Way to go, you lousy mutt. It was only then that she realized how nervous she was, this was like meeting a celebrity. In fact, maybe he was... How else could he afford this gorgeous house?

Unsure where to begin first to answer him- she just decided to go from the beginning. "I'm, er... Alright, thanks.." She ran a hand nervously through her hair, suspecting it must be incredibly messy, and it felt a little greasy, too... A shower did sound incredibly nice. "Breakfast... and a shower? Chives?" Trying to calm herself, she added, "This isn't a homeless shelter, is it? I'm not really homeless, you know." She gave an overly-loud chuckle. Could it be any clearer how nervous she was? Probably not, she figured.

A bit calmer, she took a split second glance up and down this stranger, Ismirshalen. He wasn't too bad looking, to be honest. Dressed a little oddly, but then, so was she. The thing that caught her attention most, though, were his vibrant blue eyes. She felt as though she could get lost, swimming in them forever. Voice sounding a bit dazed, it occurred to Io that he had asked one final question. Smooth German and English accent replied, "Io Aston.. nice to meet you."

[/color]

[+.Henry.+]

Izzy shook her hand with an excited expression on his face, his grip not too strong or weak. Also, his skin was cold. Not icicle freezing or anything, probrably the temperature of a refrigerator. Strange, but nothing anyone should freak out over. Okay, maybe a normal human would. But some people had cold hands. It was explainable. Anyway, after shaking hands and listening to her first attempt at greeting him, he noticed she looked a bit nervous. Scratch that. She looked pretty nervous. Okay, that was better.

The teen couldn't figure out why. He took on a troubled look and glanced around, as if expecting to see anything abnormal. Who was he kidding. This whole piece of land he lived on was far from normal. Not even the super expensive mansions and such all over the rest of the neighborhood could compare! They were very rich, make no mistake, but they all looked as if they were as rich as were possible in a lifetime. They had spent as much of their money as possible without having to have their lives tumble down the drain. Or at the least land them in an apartment.

Ismirshalen had gone through plenty of lifetimes.

Seeing nothing out of place, he turned back to the girl, who had seemed to get it all under control. Or at least somewhat. When she mentioned the homeless shelters, the black-haired teen laughed, obviously amused. Though from the way he laughed, it was obvious he was not laughing at her. Rather at the idea, really.

"Oh, my dear, you are quite silly!" he exclaimed, his smile growing wider. "Of coarse this is not a homeless shelter! Have you not received any hospitality? I would have been ashamed to see you standing there and not ask you inside!" He laughed again, then took her hand [not with an iron grip or anything] and started leading her to the front door. “Your name is quite creative,” he said, opening the door to reveal the inside of the mansion. Need I explain it? It was nothing short of amazing. Think huge dining room, with the traditional stairs at the entrance leading to the next floor. A kitchen off to the left side. A very large kitchen, might I add, but it wasn’t visible from where they were standing at the moment. “Your last name sounds German, and your accent speaks well of your heritage. I am guessing you were born in Germany, and later moved to England? Forgive me if I am wrong. I have not been around that area for quite a long time.” A little over three hundred years, to be exact. But he felt he shouldn’t mention that. That would not turn out too nicely, assuming she was human. Ismirshalen led her to the kitchen, where there was a astronomically sized dining table. Of coarse, the one out in the dining room was a lot larger. They were both made out of beautifully preserved oak wood. And lined with gold. Did anything around this mansion not contain that substance?

On the far end of the table, at the last pair of seats facing across from each other were two plates heaped up with steaming food. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, hash browns—practically everything one could possibly think of making for a breakfast. Definitely plenty enough sized portions, also. It was a meal fit for a king, no less.

“I hope you will like the meal,” he said, actually looking sort of nervous for who knows why, beckoning for her to follow him to her designated seat. He pulled out the chair and held it there for her. He was actually seating her first. No one during these days hardly held any curtsey anymore. Sure, you’d sometimes see a man hold a door for a women. But you almost never saw a guy pull out a chair and go to the limits to make sure the woman was seated first. And yet here this strange teen in his huge mansion was doing just so. He only looked to be about 19 years old. Did he even have any adults around here to take care of him? So far none were anywhere in the premises. Oh yeah, and did I mention he was holding the chair out for her?

[Vey,]

The first odd thing she noticed was the temperature of Ismi-... Ismir... Izzy's hands. Not entirely normal for a human, though she had met -some- with hands like his.. It was probably nothing. Right? The uncertainty of the moment didn't show in Io's eyes, nor on her face, but if he had looked close enough, Izzy might have seen a faint glimmer of hope in those eyes.

As he began to ramble, only slightly, of course, Io realized she was being led into the mouth of this giant of a house. It was as if in a dream, everything gold-lined, Io couldn't have ever imagined a house so luxurious. And belonging to a mere teen... the only explanation must have been that it was his parent's money. Did they live in the house, too? Even the richest person couldn't afford two of these! It was even more stunning when she crossed the threshold into the mansion. He made some comment about her accent- Io couldn't focus on what exactly he had said. They had just turned the corner to the kitchen, where a feast fit for a king lay in wait.

She trailed after the stranger to a seat at the far end of the table- one he held out for her. She could remember a time when not to do so was incredibly rude, but nowadays that custom was all but lost. Except on this fine gentleman, of course. With only the slightest hint of a quirked eyebrow, she took the seat. It was extremely refreshing to be treated like a lady for once, even though she hardly looked the part. Hell, that's putting it lightly. To be frank, Io was grubby, her hair was greasy, her clothes ragged and torn. While some lycans- like Izzy, though she was not aware of this -had spent their long lives amassing wealth. Io had spent it in England, France, Japan, at clubs during the night and passing out on couches during the day.

"As for for my surname, you're pretty much right," Io began, while also starting to dig into the breakfast. Most people think it's rude to talk with one's mouth full, and usually, she would agree. Today however, even in this gorgeous mansion, she was far too hungry to care. When was the last time she'd had a decent meal? Even a half-decent meal? ...A long time, at least. And since Io wasn't sure when the next time she would eat again was, she made the choice to bulk up on her meats. Even cooked, she could appreciate the fine taste of bacon and sausage. The eggs and hashbrowns would come later- who knows how long Izzy's hospitality would last. Even Io wouldn't keep herself in this mansion for too long. "And I did live in England for a while, London, to be exact."

"Your own accent speaks more than a little of a British heritage." She commented between mouthfuls. Something about a meal always made Io feel more comfortable, more at home- even in this luxurious place. "Strong as if you were there yesterday. Around here, it's a wonder it's not diluted somewhat.How long have you lived here, anyways?" By this time, nearly all the meat on her plate was gone, and how Io wished it had been more rare. Careful control of her monthly changes had prevented her from tasting anything raw for awhile, and she was planning on having something soon.

[/center]

[+.Henry.+]

The black-haired teen looked visibly relieved as the girl sat down in the chair he provided and started chowing down on the hearty meal. He quickly walked over to the seat across from her where his own meal waited and sat down with his coffee, which he sipped from while listening to her speak. The food in front of him was essentially untouched. It appeared that he hardly had an appetite, though he did eat a few of the eggs and a slice of ham. He seemed more interested in watching Io eat, though definitely not in a rude way. He was also noticeably more attached to drinking his coffee instead.

As he watched her eat, lost in her words, he noticed something that struck him as odd. It was hardly anything, really. Any normal person would not have given something like it a second thought. But he noticed it. Maybe it was because of his certain case. Maybe he was paranoid. But he noticed that she had gone for all the meat on the plate first, and with a strange ravenous sort of gusto. Of coarse, part of that may have been just because she hadn’t eaten in so long, but all the same he could not help but to relate it to something more… Which led him to other thoughts. Like why she looked so ragged and torn. Izzy mentally slapped himself. He needed to stop being so paranoid. All the same, the little thought stuck with him.

“I am glad to know it seems I have not lost my touch,” he replied with a smile, taking another sip of the coffee. It was almost empty. “And yes, I am of British heritage! I lived there as a young lad, but eventually decided to explore the rest of the world.” That’s not exactly how it had happened. “I eventually came here. I’ve probrably been living here for a few years now. I have not spent as much time outside as I would like to, though,” he added without thinking, his expression growing noticeably dark. He looked like he was far off. “I hardly ever get visitors. You are the first one in months.” He shook his head, as if riding himself of evil thoughts, and pushed his plate over to her. “If you are still hungry, you may have some of my food,” he offered politely. “You look like you have been through a lot.”

[Vey,]

Oh, how long it had been since Io had tasted food this rich and delicious? A month, two? Three, even? The ragged lycan felt if she stayed in this house for very long, she'd get fat. Meat devoured, she began to tuck into her eggs and hash browns, so tasty she had to resist saying "yum" out loud. It warmed her from the inside out. Even when it was warm, Io got cold easily. Frankly, she resembled a starving dog- ribs showing and everything. But a dog certainly wouldn't be eating this fast.

So enthralled by her meal, she almost missed what Izzy was saying. Oh- he was talking about his British heritage, and not getting out of the house much... Io could have expected as much. Though he didn't look like a hermit, he was far to excited to have her in the house. And... the first visitor in months? Good gravy, he seemed nice enough. Why the solitude, she wondered. Deciding that it was non of her business, Io continued eating in silence for a moment or two, and then ventured on with the conversation.

"Bet there are some fantastic night clubs around here, eh? I'll have to do some scouting... rich people have to have fun somehow, I suppose." She chuckled between bites, casting a fleeting glimpse of slightly enlarged canine teeth to wards Izzy. It usually happened when she ate, but how would Io know that? It's not like she ever watched herself eating, and only someone who was, perhaps, a bit paranoid would notice at all.

She took another bite, chewed, and swallowed, before going on. "I been through more than you can imagine, my friend." She said, a tad darkly. Though, perhaps Izzy knew hard times even more than Io did. "A lot of years ago, though..." For a moment, the lycan froze, fork held in midair. "When... I was young, I mean... It seems like a long time ago, but I'm only 19 you know..." She gave a nervous laugh, and looked down at her plate, refusing to make eye contact with Izzy, or say anything else. The comfort of the house was making her careless... This was a mortal, and she couldn't reveal things like that to him.

[/center]

[+.Henry.+]

“Indeed, there are a few night clubs close by. I have gone there before, and was not disappointed,” he agreed, fingering a fork. It wasn’t made of silver, rather, it was made of stainless steel. So much for the whole silverware thing. Kind of strange. But it was almost impossible to tell, unless you really knew what you were looking for. He looked up, watching as she dug away at the food on her plate like a starving mutt… Wait a minute. The teen stiffened slightly, struck by the thought. His clear blue eyes locked onto her teeth. They looked… familiar. He couldn’t snap his gaze from the sight. And then something odd happened. His clear blue eyes seemed to start glowing until they were an intense icy blue color, then just as quickly fizzle back. The strange episode happened within a span of three seconds. He pulled his eyes from her teeth, the hairs on his neck raising.

But he didn’t resume moving like a normal person. Her next words almost sent him off the edge. This was too much of a coincidence. Suddenly, it was all making sense. Way too much sense. He almost wished he hadn’t invited her in. And then mentally slapped himself across the face for thinking that way. She wasn’t him. She wasn’t anything like him.

Finally, he managed to put the fork down, along with the near-empty mug of coffee. He looked over once more at the girl, who was staring down. He knew why. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, quietly mulling over this sudden truth. But finally, he spoke. Either he was going to sound completely insane, or she would know exactly what he was talking about.

“You are a lycan, aren’t you?” he asked, smiling a sad smile. He held up his right hand, which was covered by a glove. With nimble fingers he gently removed the fabric, revealing his hand. A hand with a hole that looked as if it had been burned right through the palm. You could actually see through it. The skin was burned and scarred looking. He held it up, inspecting it. Then he ran a finger across his right cheek, revealing a scar that had been covered with makeup. “I am not the man I try to be,” he murmured softly, a pained look on his face. His clear blue eyes sizzled back to the icy blue color, and this time stayed that way. He looked up at Io, waiting for her reaction. Dreading it. Deep inside he wished she was just a human, and would think him crazy. It was so much better than the thought that she had actually had to live through such a curse.

[Vey,]

A human wouldn't have noticed anything. They thought lycans were only alive in myth, and only the most paranoid of them would be looking for such things... And at the same time, such a person wouldn't have let her in. So... she didn't have anything to worry about, right? Nothing at all. So what came from Izzy's mouth next struck her like a load of bricks. Io leaped from her chair, knocking it over... along with her plate, of course- the clumsy girl.

Chest heaving, she watched as Izzy pulled the glove off his hand, and showed her the scar on his cheek. She made her jump back a foot further, something that was pure reflex, and only made it harder for her to deny the question. Despite the fact that it was clear Izzy was the same as her, Io still wanted to deny everything. She wished she could just be a normal girl, having breakfast with a normal boy. But.. it had been so long since anything was 'normal' in her life, she knew the thought was ridiculous.

Slowly, she got her bearings back, and started to shake her head. "I'm... not... I... That's crazy..." Her voice was weak, stuttering. Heart beating a million miles an hour, Io's hand slowly went down to the holster on her belt that had come into sight when she'd jumped. His eyes were icy blue now, and her own blues, she knew, must be going brown. Her instincts were screaming about trouble, but extreme restraint kept Io in human form. How easy it would be, she thought, to just... run.

The idea sounded so great, she starting to edge to wards the door. So slow and measured were her sideways steps that it was hard to tell she was moving to wards the door at all. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about, fella.." She said with a gulp, getting some of her composure back. "But I think I'd better leave..." Io could feel the roots of her hair changing, growing more ragged, and probably turning brown. She needed to get out of there quick if there was to be any hope of keeping her curse a secret.

[+.Henry.+]

The teen didn’t make a move to stop her as she knocked the chair over in an attempt to escape. He didn’t even flinch as the delicate china plate crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces, though it would probrably cost a few hundred dollars to replace it. Instead he simply sat there, watching. His face was one of pain.

Finally, he stood up, his fine black hair falling in wisps over his eyes, momentarily shielding her from their color. He had seen hers change—they were now brown in color. That was the only thing he needed for confirmation. She was a lycanthrope. It was like a shot to the heart, something she could easily do if she chose to; she had the gun right there. Though as much as the teen hated the curse, he was not suicidal. He had no intention of killing himself.

His eyes followed her to the door. His sharp eyes picked out every detail, his heightened senses could feel the change coming on. “No, I think you should stay here,” he murmured softly. “Changing out in the open would not be a good idea… Trust me.” He put the glove back on, but couldn’t do anything about the ugly scar now revealed on his previously perfect face. His body shuddered noticeably. The wolf inside him wanted out. He wasn’t going to let that happen. He had to stay in control. “I am not going to hurt you,” he assured her. Pleading with her to stay. “Think about it.” As much as he wanted her to stay, he knew that if she changed, he might be forced to do so also. If restrained too long, the wolf inside him sometimes would not be denied.

[.:Mink:.]

[[ This makes me sad.. ]]

[+.Henry.+]

[ How..? ]

[.:Mink:.]

[[ UH, cuz it's sad? ]]

[Vey,]

Conflicted emotions ran a warpath through Io's heart and mind. This kind stranger had taken her in, and even finding out now what she was, he didn't want her to leave. At the same time, every instinct told Io to get out of this house, find somewhere dark to curl up and pretend she was safe. The thought of leaving vacated her mind as he spoke, however.. She was close to change, despite the morning. The terror was bringing it so close, just under the surface.. It was taking all her restraint, and it was easy to tell not only her body, but her mind was under a lot of stress to keep in her human form.

Io grasped the door handle tightly, though she did not turn it to leave, it was more for support. In her mind, she kept repeating the words that had helped in such situations several times. I am Io. Mars is under -my- control. I am human. I am human. Eyes closed, Io's rapid breathing slowly decreased after was minutes, but seemed like hours to Io. Her eyes blinked back to their normal forest green, and the light brown that had grown in the roots of her hair vanished. Once again completely human, Io slowly turned back around to face Izzy.

Her head was swimming, dizzy from the effort of staying human. She hadn't faced a change so difficult to repel in years, and it was slightly scary. But her immediate problem was standing nearby, probably waiting for some sort apology, or at least an explanation. "Look- I..." Her voice quickly trailed off, and Io bit her lip. What could she say after something like this? 'Thanks for the breakfast and not completely freaking out, I'll be leaving now'? No, Io didn't really think that was the best idea. "Maybe you have some water I can have?" She ventured as she realized her throat was a desert. She could practically feel the tumbleweeds rolling around in there.

Slowly, carefully, Io walked forward and picked up the chair she had knocked over in her desperate attempt at escape. There would be no leaving any time soon, now. However kind this other lycan seemed, some of them weren't kind to their own- Io had learned this the hard way. She had to make sure this Izzy was safe, before she went anywhere. Since she was already here, she might as well figure these things out. Taking another solid look at Izzy, she said, "Maybe we should go sit somewhere more comfortable." It was bound to be an emotional discussion, and Io didn't quite feel like having it over cooling breakfast.

[+.Henry.+]

Izzy watched as Io calmed down, forcing himself to do the same. The wolf inside him would not win. Not this time. Evander. The werewolf alpha tried not to think of the fact that the wolf actually had a name. It made it seem more like an actual being. That disturbed him. From what he knew of the wolf, it was highly dangerous. Somehow, he had learned how to control it, but it wasn’t easy. Turned out the wolf inside him didn’t like to take the time to understand why it should go against its very nature of eating humans. Heck, the posh teen almost didn’t blame him. But he still didn’t like the beast. Nothing could change that.

Eventually he was able to calm down, and his icy blue eyes once more shimmered back to the clear blue of his human self. He was human. He was. Okay, so he wasn’t. But he had to tell himself that. It was one of the only things that kept him sane. Along with his coffee. Hm. He picked the cup up and went to go refill it while Io picked the chair back up. Once he was done, he turned around to face her, looking tired despite his high caffeine intake. He probrably never slept.

“Of coarse,” he answered, smoothly striding out of the kitchen and into the living room. He took them both to a large—no, astronomically sized couch. And a very comfy looking couch, at that. It was a nice pale tan color and made of soft fabric, and the cushions were so full of stuffing one felt as if they were sitting on a cloud. Mr. Pale sat down at one end, setting his mug on a side table.

“So, what do you want to know?” he asked her, preferring she’d start first before he ended up rambling on about things that might not need to be said.