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Post by Phoenix Volkov on Dec 23, 2008 23:49:27 GMT -5
(Pre the Hogsmeade attack)
It had been a month since she last saw him, but only a few seconds since her mind was on him. It was amazing how in two short years he had become so much to her, not in an affectionate sort of way, no never. She hated him with more passion then she could say…but then there was always the unexpected moments that caught her off guard, the moments when he’d appear almost human. When she could even convince herself that he was a man rather than machine. What an idiot she was.
“The master is home.”
“Master? Is that what you call him Helen?” she said with just a touch of disdain and disbelief in her tone.
“He may be my nephew, but he is still the head of the household, and therefore the master.”
"Mmm. And I suppose that just makes you...the master's dog?" she asked laying a false smile in her tone as well as on her features before turning around, " I’ll be in my room.” she announced with a further sway of childish apathy before disappearing under the archway. She knew he’d be on his way soon enough.
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Post by Michael Avery on Dec 26, 2008 4:43:30 GMT -5
Michael, however, would have never viewed his aunt as the master's dog, and Nyx would have gotten quite a lecture from that one as well. Helen was, perhaps, the most revered person in his life, second only to Voldemort, if even him.
It was his aunt that he greeted when he came in the door, even offering a small smile, a thing so rarely seen from him.
"Helen, how are you?" And the underlining, but unpsoken, 'where is she?'
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Post by Phoenix Volkov on Dec 26, 2008 7:50:18 GMT -5
Helen was waiting for him in the inner courtyard as he came in with her ever present grace and serenity. Never once had she been in a frenzy, nor was she one who let her emotions show on the surface. If it were possible she was more detached than Michael, but she did love her nephew.
"Well." she answered returning the smile, hers was fuller but just as surface oriented.
She had been mother, father, guardian, to him, and now she still was in some ways a caretaker, a strategist. She handed him Nyx's reports, as well as other news then gave a brief summary of the girl's progress.
"She continues to do well in all subjects, I think you'll find her quite capable there is still however..." Helen stopped and gave him a look. Nyx's crux would always be her humanity, her unwillingness to shed innocent blood, and her belief in right and wrong. Were she to get rid of that she'd be a most useful and valued operative. Despite that however, or perhaps because of it, Helen had drawn herself close to the girl. Recalling the innocence that had touched her own self so long ago, knowing that soon that innocence, that humanity would die out to self preservation, made time seem a bit more precious. Still that loss was inevitable, it was Michael's job to ensure as much.
When she finished with the report they were in front of Nyx's chosen quarters where Helen paused nodded then turned to leave.
"Oh and Michael.." she stopped and turned towards him, " She knows about the Hogsmeade attack." Helen warned before leaving him to Phoenix.
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Post by Michael Avery on Dec 28, 2008 22:38:47 GMT -5
"Of course she knows," Michael said, his tone neutral, not angry, not amused. Very matter of fact.
"Thank you, Helen," he said as an afterthought, and gave her a knowing look before knocking on Nyx's door with a light rap.
He didn;t expect her to answer, but he was giving her the chance to surprise him. If she didn't, a locked door had never stopped him before.
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Post by Phoenix Volkov on Dec 29, 2008 21:35:46 GMT -5
Phoenix's room wasn't precisely a room at all. She preferred her space, and since she had free range to make modifications to her own quarters at least, she had done just that. There was kitchen space, a small dining space, and an elevated platform that served as her bedroom with sliding glass doors. Currently she was in the "kitchen" pouring a glass of something red, and likely expensive knowing Michael's taste, or at least what he stocked.
She heard his light rapping over her record player which was playing a very soft french song, and grimaced. She felt him getting closer rather than actually heard him knock. Careful to mask her emotions she answered the door with a small smile in greeting, " Michael."
Her tone conveyed slight surprise, as if she hadn't been expecting him. She placed her body against the door opening it so they could talk, but not so much as to invite him in.
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Post by Michael Avery on Dec 30, 2008 21:29:27 GMT -5
Michael stood still as a statue and said nothing. She knew better, knew exactly what he expected of her. He never spoke to anyone with a threshold between them. It was rude and offputting, and he expected more respet from her.
So he didn't ask to enter, or ask anything else for that matter. He just waited, his eyes hard.
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Post by Phoenix Volkov on Dec 30, 2008 22:21:51 GMT -5
He hadn't earned her respect yet, but she was no longer afraid of him, perhaps she should have been. Regardless, it wasn't fear or respect that made her widen the door, " Come in." she said turning away from him and stepping into the main room with the wine glass, she went to put on a different song.
For all the hardness he put in his eyes, she put apathy in hers. Well it wasn't quite apathy, but rather the more indifferent she became as if they were old friends instead of ...well whatever they were.
"Can I help you?" she asked, again as if they saw one another often enough and his return wasn't something she had been both dreading and anticipating since he left.
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Post by Michael Avery on Jan 2, 2009 4:17:52 GMT -5
Michael stepped into her room and closed the door behind him. She kept it tidy and organized, which pleased him mildly.
"No," he replied to her question. There was nothing she could really do to help him. Not yet, anyway. She had a long way to go before that, though he had his expectations.
"Anything you want to tell me, Nyx, about your training with my aunt?" He asked like he had been told bad things, wondering what reaction he would get from her.
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Post by Phoenix Volkov on Jan 2, 2009 4:24:44 GMT -5
She shrugged more with her facial expression than her shoulders and replied, " Helen's a nice woman. Our training's been going well." she answered easily as if his tone indicated he wanted an opinion rather than was expecting a confession. She had learned this game, Helen really had taught her well.
Her tone changed as she zeroed in keeping her eyes on his, " Is there anything you would like to tell me?" she asked this time as if she knew he hadn't been told anything negative and she had caught him trying to make her nervous, which would no longer work.
She stood straighter her chin a bit higher, indifference in her eyes. He had no power over her, he never would.
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Post by Michael Avery on Jan 2, 2009 4:39:23 GMT -5
Michael almost laughed. Almost, and it would have been mirthless at that. The parenting, power indulgent look did not suit her. Nor did he like the fact that she was trying to wear it.
"No, there isn't. I don't answer to you." She knew this, and would probably argue that she didn't aswer to him, either, but that wasn't true and they both knew it.
"Helen agrees that you're doing well, by the way." He said nothing of his own opinion.
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Post by Phoenix Volkov on Jan 2, 2009 4:47:14 GMT -5
She gave him a brief smile, " Who do you answer to Michael?" she asked then shrugged again as if she didn't care.
She had been here for two years, she had played his game of superiority for far too long and she no longer cared to. She wasn't that naive kid he brought home two years ago, any fear he inspired in the beginning no longer held, she had learned a lot from him, and from Helen, and one of the things they had both taught her was to guard her emotions well, to never let them know what she was thinking.
His testing questions of if there was anything he should know about her training sessions with Helen all went into a file in his mind labeled "Phoenix" she wasn't a person to him, she was a test subject, a puppet he wanted to control.
"Well, Helen's a very fine instructor." she replied, still masking her thoughts.
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Post by Michael Avery on Jul 26, 2009 23:37:54 GMT -5
Even if she hadn't shrugged, Michael would have never answered the question. He answered to no one except the Dark Lord, and either of those answers were not for her ears. All she needed to know what that she answered to him. As far as she was concerned, that's where the chain of command stopped.
"Only Helen?" he asked, letting a smile cross his lips. "The day will come, Phoenix, when you you will realize that I can help you in ways you can;t possibly understand while you insist on hating me."
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Post by Phoenix Volkov on Jul 27, 2009 15:26:13 GMT -5
"I don't hate you Michael." she said, the lazy indulgent tone still in her voice, "Hate implies far too much emotion. I don't have the capacity for that anymore. You wanted me that way."
It wasn't lack of respect that made Phoenix turn away from him and enter the kitchen, pouring more red wine into the glass. Instead she was a bit more flushed than she wanted him to see, a bit more affected by his words. In short she was angry, how could he believe that there could be anything other than hate between them. He might not hate her, but she would hate him with every breath in her body.
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