Summary:While checking in on the Ambrose and Kent crew, Lena meets Sterling the Younger. Log Info:Storyteller: {$storyteller} |
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After the visit of one Prince Loki of Asgard and his wife Sigyn, accompanied by victuals of many kinds, both offspring of Ambrose and Kent are content as they can manage to be while remaining on the property. Kazimira, Ambrose's daughter, is taking it perhaps better than Kent' son, Sterling is. The young man is infamous for his presumption of his prowess in avoiding any and all types of trouble and, if it bothers him, he bothers it back: painfully and often with finality.
That being said, he can't stand to be inside anymore. He's pacing around the grounds of the place, within the confines of the Victorian wrought-iron fencing, hands shoved into his coat pockets and blond hair gleaming in the ambient city light. It's cool but not cold and each step scuffs up the dew collecting on the grass.
At one point, he stops by the front gate and gives it a very long, long, considering look. And then glances over his shoulder towards the manor. And squints. And mutters to himself in Mandarin about overbearing siblings.
"I get it." A voice answers him from the other side. Calm, almost soothing and alto, the voice comes from a set of dark lips on a youthful, pale face. Offering him a smirk that presses a dimple into her cheek, the dark haired girl gives the blonde the once over. "That look, that feeling - I get it. I was never one for cages myself." She explains. Shifting her stance, she allows one hip to rest out as the other leg relaxes.
Hands in her pockets, attired with ratty jeans, thick-soled knee-highs, and some stylized punk shirt, the girl in a wide choker and teal bleeding to violet stripped hair remains. "Sterling, was it?"
Lena gets a look which flickers through surprise and into a brief slit-eyed suspicion from within the metal fencing. Almost prowling, how the young man with hints of Kent's jawline and eyes nearly that same foggy grey approaches the gate closer.
"Yeah, it's Sterling. Nobody else responds to that around here." He takes up what appears to be a more relaxed stance after a second, but it seems to take some internal prompting. The intensity of his gaze also decreases by an amount; Kent has told him time and time again that staring too long is rude. He deliberately looks away and back to Lena again. "I think your name was Lena, right? It's not a cage anyways, it's my home now. Father-san just put down rules and they make sense, but I hate being stuck inside. It's boring. I can only rearrange the furniture in my room so many times."
"That's right." She nods to her name. "Sometimes, homes can be the worse cages." She shrugs, looking after him even as he looks away. Kent may be a gentleman and his teachings sound, but Lena was far from a lady. She keeps the spawn in her line of sight at all times. "How is dear old daddy anyway? Daddies, rather. Haven't heard from them in some time. Busy, I'm guessing, but good?" A pause. "Safe?"
"I mean, they're not dead. We'd know, me and Mira." Sterling tosses his head towards the manor behind him without looking away from Lena. "I think they're still out of town. I was told not to tell anybody about it, so I can't tell you where. Sorry. It's something about keeping everybody safe and if you don't know, then you can't give it away if somebody kidnaps you and tortures you or something." The blond shrugs his shoulders, easily as broad as Ambrose's own; Kent is slimmer in comparison to his son, if taller by a mere inch.
"I figure if you get kidnapped, you weren't paying attention and it's your problem now. We're safe here though. The property's well-protected and apparently, Prince Loki of Asgard and his wife stopped by to offer us protection too. Mira accepted before I could ask more questions. I think I was busy hunting for a lost pearl at the time though." Another shrug.
"Ah well. Not much of a snitch myself." She rolls her eyes at the very idea of it. She wasn't really expecting his concern. He didn't know her, after all. "Fair enough. Whatever keeps you all safe, that's what matters." A press back on her feet, she slips a hand up and gives a brief wave with her dark tipped fingers and silver ringed digits and bangled wrist. "I'll leave you to your cage, oh Prince. Tell your daddies and sister I said 'hi'."
"I'll tell them you say hi, sure, Mira will appreciate it. She likes people more than I do." Lena gets another one of those searching squints, even complete with a slight tilt of his head, almost reptilian in a way. "I mean, you're not bad, since Father-San and Ambrose-Sir like you. There are worse people out there. I mean, I can tell you to watch out for somebody named Oliver. He's apparently not good people, so if you see him, maybe just bite him."
Sterling pauses for a moment and muses, looking down and off to one side briefly. "No, maybe not bite him. Punch him? Yeah, punch him. Or kick him. Ambrose-Sir might like it if you did." He lifts his hand and waves, the motion a bit stunted as if he's not used to it. As he does so, the smallest motes of werelight seem to shimmer around it — werelights? — no, St. Elmo's Fire, electricity in pufflets of phosphorescence.
"Be well though, since I like you as as person."
Lena Snart pauses at that. Head canting now, she blinks smoothly and then strides closer to the gate. Closer, and closer still. Hands up and fingers wrap around the bars. "I know about Oliver." She murmurs smoothly. "You're killing me with the father-san and Ambrose-sir. Seriously, just doesn't seem to fit coming from your lips." A smirk. "Or anyone's lips."
The lights cause her eyes to dance about. "Ah, so you're special, too. Guess that's no surprise, or shouldn't be by this point." Brow to iron, she smiles once more, soft lipped and no teeth showing. "You like me as a person?"
Sterling blinks a few times and leans away from the approach, as if the bars weren't there to stop her. He tilts his head to the other side again and then leans in, sniffing audibly until he comes to some conclusion.
"You seem like a nice person, yeah. Am I wrong? I'm usually not wrong, but when I am, it can be pretty awful. But what do you mean those titles don't seem to fit? That's who they are: Father-San and Ambrose-Sir. They can't be anybody else because nobody else responds to those names in the house." He arches a golden eyebrow at her, nose sharply wrinkled. "You get confused about names, don't you. It's okay, I know it happens to humans a lot. I am special, yes, there's only one of me — literally only one of me, nobody's managed to make another," Sterling clarifies unnecessarily.
For now, the bars stop her well and truly. The more he speaks, the more she keeps her smile. At length, she chuckles. "You're adorable. The whole damn family, dear god…" Beat. "No, I'm not confused about names. I just call them something else. Fair enough what you call them - guess it's fitting for who's speaking the name, hmm?" Her eyes squint now, pale as ice and lined with fluid jet. Her head moves back to its normal position and she stands back. It takes her fingers a moment or two to glide back.
"You're one of a kind, Sterling. We all are, baby. Oh, and as for me being good? Well, I'm trying to be."
"That's something to aspire to, being good — I guess. I mean, good is relative," the young man notes as he stands there, continuing to attempt to look as if he belongs there. Or is human. "Ambrose-Sir is good for the most part, so…he's not the best example sometimes. Father-San is the better at being good. If you want to take notes, maybe talk more to him. He's got more wisdom than I can share about it. Human morals are messy things. They annoy me."
He tilts his head yet again and lets out a soft susurrus of a sound, almost like a hiss. "If you want to leave, then leave. Nobody's making you stay here. Mira's going to start yelling at any second anyways because I just remembered about the plate of macaroni I left on the couch and I bet she just sat in it."
Lo and behold, from within: "SI-YU XUN-TALBOT!" in a strident, carrying pitch of extreme annoyance.
Sterling smugs to himself. "I predicted that one correctly."
"Wouldn't mind taking you out of the cage sometime." Lena offers, giving another wave as before but this time, she finally turns her back to him. "Be nice to your sister, Sterling. Sometimes, they're the best part of us." Hands in pockets, she starts to stride away calmly.
"I would rather that she's no part of me because that sounds awkward and like an invasion of my personal space, but being nice to her, sure," Sterling replies as he watches Lena walk away into the freedom beyond the fenced grounds. "Walk fast. It's going to snow in about half an hour, the wind tastes funny."
With that, the young man turns to walk back towards the manor, intent upon retrieving his plate of macaroni, even if it was sat upon. One never wastes delicious mac 'nd cheese.