Cerises

Keep Your Friends Close...

Marquis Latenat

The stargazer found Marquis to be something of an amusement; in looks he certainly never lacked, and it rarely surprised her to come upon him in the throes of a night's idle wooing. Whenever such attentions found themselves turned toward her own self-conflicting person, advances were more often then not met by a wry sarcasm and jestful amusement, in the stead of anything approaching seriousness. Cerise was one who made desire seem so easy.. something maleable and rich, there and gone again by daybreak to leave its taker [the night's companion she had found..] as chill as the covers upon which mere moments prior, she had likely lain in the blissful embrace of sleep. She would always harbor a respect for her elder kin, however, and he was one of the few she seemed to permit to disturb her during those late nights of heaven-sent gazing without the much more dire repercussions evoked. Perhaps she saw something of an equal in physical drive in the other, or perhaps her reasons ran more deeply. It was always so difficult to tell, and after so recent a return from the streets, perhaps only time would develop whatever possible bond therein existed.

Erik Latenat

His was a company genuinely enjoyed, something of an oddity for the usually antisocialistic femme, more prone to keep to her rooftop and ave then anything approaching blood. But if Marquis was her kindred in the world of physical, Erik was hers in the mind. She found their idle talks - when and if both of the reclusives actually struck them up - to be something worthwhile amongst a hundred other pointless flights of fancy. He had a biting wit and sarcasm that held little equal among the rest of the household, and seemed to at least have given Cerise the benefit of the doubt when it came to her oddly forward gestures of affection. But then, perhaps she did it solely because she knew his detestment for such things. An oddly playful side to the goil that not many ever saw outside the bedroom, and it was unusual for such attentions to be awarded without similar intent. But her ease around the elder male was a marvelled enigma of its own accord, one even she never cared to unravel. And as Erik was one of the few she seemed apt to actually hold word or presence with for any extended period of time, it was almost odd for her to note that he likely, at present, knew her better then any else beneath the roof, excepting, perhaps, Nyx. But then, the dark ave wouldn't be talking much, now would he?

Egan Latenat

Cerise was not a creature of motherly protection; in fact, she was likely its beautiful, yet veritable, antithesis. Perhaps why it was so out of character should one take care to note her almost fierce protectiveness of the younger male of the family, who seemed so exiled among the inner walls of the household. His adoration for Rylee, and the goil's own indecisiveness toward such affections, were forever a nettle in her side that spurned her toward action where otherwise - for any other - there would have been none. But then, she was forever the angel of obscurity, distanced from any and all [doomed to a solace found only in the solitary..] and knew what such a lack of acknowledgment could foster in the hearts of its bearers. It was not a task she seemed to take lightly to, and as it was Marquis [Egan's own father] who was more often then not taking up opportunity with Rylee in his son's stead, it would be a source of some friction between she and the elder Marquis. But only the days' passage would tell if such problems could be easily assuaged. The somewhat odd kinship that might grow between them with time seemed to stem from the day she had discovered Nyx; watching from the hidden passages of the Inne as the delicate femme took such adoring care with another winged creature. But it went deeper, blind to steady protest from Cerise's more antisocial side as she recognized just how closely she had grown to her brother. When their sister Jardena returned, and the blood bond between she and Egan revealed the cause for his sudden pain, she had taken him to an apartment maintained across the city. When the withdrawal drew him to violence, and finally back toward Jardena's arms, Cerise was lost to any reason beyond the simple, oddly base need to keep Egan safe, and intervened on the deepest level possible: replacing Jardena's bond to him with her own. But the stress to follow such a joining - his lack of any selfwill beyond pleasing her - was too much for the star-gazer to take: after a leave of absence from the inn entirely, she returned only to find that he had grown close to his sister, Zoe. Whether in a fit of selfspite or displaced aggression (or some mixture of the both), she told Egan to switch the bond to the opposite sister instead. Leaving her once more in the chill, unwelcome grasp of isolation.

Rylee Latenat

Even Cerise herself was aware that her estimations of that youngest sibling had never been given fair chance to develop favorably. But then, her first depthful run-in with the darling goil of silk and sex was over an argument the youngest seemed to have stimulated between Marquis and Egan. It had been a lack of intervention on that goil's part - a willingness to watch both males fight out such differences over her, perhaps to blood - that had struck up such disgust and unease in the moon-spun dreamer. That the child was so willing to watch an argument fall to blows, when a mere word on her part would have either male jumping to attentive obedience, practically blew the rational elder's mind. Her harshness would come to be an expected consequence whenever trouble with Rylle brewed, because she would forever jump to conclusions about the goil's fault in matters. But then, Cerise was rarely one to give second chances; it would forever be a fault of hers, and one that would haunt the household. Once wronged, forever turned away from the admonission's source. As it was, most seemed to tread on thin ice with Cerise, and it was right they did. She was not quick to forgive, or forget; and if Rylee was any example, it would take quite a bit to place the young beauty back in the good graces of her elder sister. If she even cared to find a place in such a light.

Linette Latenat

Linette was so newly returned to the Inn, that Cerise had yet to truly attribute any vibrant expression toward her flame-obsessed sibling, although the femme's oddly forward aid when Nyx was first discovered and moved toward her room cemented something of a grudging respect toward the girl. Such odd strokes of assistance and compassion were unusual from the point of view of the reclusive femme, as she was more often then not quite used to drifting into the shades of grey of an obscure backdrop and melting to the shadows without second glance or acknowledgment. Yet whether simply caught off guard, or genuinely appreciative of the courtesy extended toward her that day she had discovered the dear avian, she would remain somewhat ambiguous when it came to the dear little pyro, although there was no evidence of scrupples taken up with her. And indeed, she simply prayed the goil never discovered the drawer of matches in the bedside table in Cerise's room that were a trophy�s wager, as she continued to confiscate them from the overly infatuated femme. After all - the heavens had best forbid that the Inn be burned down a second time, and if it meant sneaking now and again into Linette's room and stealing her matches, so be it.

Zoe Latenat

As it was with Rylee, so was the approach toward Zoe established. But then, the delicate beauty always seemed stapled by something when it came to opening up to Zoe. Perhaps on some level she grew too easily envious of the goil's extended periods of time spent with Egan; but then, it was never obvious that such was the case. Cerise, being the proud and distanced creature she was [and the pathological liar at heart, thus molded by an expertise that merited, above all, the weaving of such flawless facades] never allowed such things to show. But the closeness with Egan grew to be a plague on the heart of the Dreamer, precious cords of patience and decency snapping with all veritable alacrity. From that point forth, Cerise always appeared to be disgusted with the young girl, apparently irritatedby the femme's lacking will and all too boneless spine. Weakness was the one thing, next to ignorance and idiocy, which Cerise would never tolerate even during the coldest day in hell. Heavens forbid the dear, needy child not be given enough attention. This was a war of roses.. and one littered with thorns.

}{ Nyx }{
[pronounced N-ih-x ]

Discovered by the unwitting beauty in a snow drift on a winter's night, in the midst of a deep blizzard's onslaught, the dark ave was lucky to have been plucked from those icen caverns of death in the first place considering his precarious perch. Time's passage would found him named for the dark goddess of night, in which he had been discovered; and yet the murmured name that would sometimes escape in its stead [Ashiko] seemed to gingerly attest to what the ave would come to mean to our star-struck tempress. ["Star Protector"]. He was, oddly enough, a grounding force in the young chylde's life; when the world went wrong, it was to the ave's ears she would turn, shunning blood and casting away with a viciousness unsurpassed those who attempted to get close. He was her savior in more ways then one.. but whether from the world, or herself, it was yet to be seen. And yet therein had been a touch of some sort of drastically endearing compassion within the otherwise uncaring femme; perhaps it had been this odd upward strike of interest that had drawn the aid of her two sisters. They had probably never seen the likes of such keen focus and intent upon anything in regard to a goil who seemed to care for naught in life but males and her ever-beauteous Stars. Yet Nyx had somehow captured and honed the heartstrings of the callous chylde of (\|ight, and she could only marvel at his continued presence in her life. Even after the poor fledgling's wing had fully healed, he refused to return to the soaring heights of cloud-tousled skies, instead forever found balanced regally upon the goil's shoulder, or at a rather unsettlingly close proximity. Fiercely protective and oddly audacious, none could deny the oddly intelligent air about the dark hawk, who beyond a warning hiss or subtle croon now and again, was forever silent. His markings and coloring were a thing of fanciful beauty; where he was on the whole an overly ebony ave, the light that danced upon those velvet pinions elicited the paler bands of wine and rust that tiger striped with breahtaking beauty and regularity on each finely sculpted feather. The underside of those perfectly formed wings was blushed by what might at one point have been a pale silver, the likes of which [in its purest, most mercurial form] touched over wing and tail feathers, accenting the crown of his head. Yet the underscore of those pinions was touched not by that selfsame silver, but it's blood soaked counterpart, a pale watered-down wine that gave the impression of silver pinions that had been dipped and soaked in the blood of the Damned. Occulars of sharp sight and an oddly keen comprehension and cognizance were of a bitter amazonite and amber, rimmed by impassible onyx and touched by odd flecks of quicksilver that seemed - in some odd, and at times indiscernible manner - to mimic those selfsame shards of starscorched dusts that posed so beautifully within the eyes of the creature's living equal, only in the case of Cerise, they breathed upon deep pools of midnight satin instead of gold. But the similarity was uncanny; and perhaps the world was not so given to chance as most assumed.

But then.. was Nyx truly just a hawk?

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Her Winged Salvation

Just let me have a bit of time.
A minute or two, I ask no more.
I just don't think this world worth the effort
Any longer, when I hole myself away
To the grasp of deceitful obscurity.
I know I can find a way through it this time,
Because there is nothing in this world
That has ever held me down.
I am freedom; I am the stars themselves,
Untameable, wild, uncharted and filled
With this Feral Defiance I can't contain.
But I am left with nothing to which I can cling.
There is naught to hold my sights high
Except those cold, uncaring glints of dimming light.
So please; if only for tonight, give me
Something - anything - to believe in.
Let me know you'll stay with me
Until the dawn breaks, the sun rises,
And I realize that it was all just a d r e a m.

Because I can make it.. And I'll survive like always.
I just don't want to be alone for e t e r n i t y.

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..the.. mn..'family'...

... the "pets", par se..

" Star Protector"

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Jardena Latenat

Cerise had never held a single conversation with the female in her life, yet there was a brewing expression that verged painfully upon hatred for the girl. There was no logic to the persuit of such emotion, no reasoning to make ammends for such strength of vicious conviction. All Cerise knew of her was secondhand from Egan himself; she had been the one to whom he bonded himself, and she had been a love of his before Marquis 'thieved' her, as well. Cerise would never forgive, or forget, such transgressions, despite the pleas and insistance on Egan's part that she was not to blame. Perhaps, indeed, a portion of the bond replacement with Egan was out of a simple, very human emotion known as Spite for all the femme had done to one Cerise, herself, cared so deeply for.

Farrel Latenat

Click and clack. Farrel was Cerise's banter partner. Argument was paramount. But.. it was a misunderstood relationship when it came to the rest of the family, as such was precisely how the pair desired it to be perceived. Their tiffs and idle conversation bubbled and verged upon violence at times, and more than once dearest Marquis was attempting to drag the two appart like errant children he was concerned were about to fall to blows. Ah, but Farrel was one of the few in the Family the dreamer didn't consider a complete waste of blood. He, along with Erik and Egan, was among those she watched, guarded, and cared for. But after his brief leave-taking, Farrel came back.. changed. She noted it almost the first night, when he walked in the door. Suddenly she was being called 'Cherry' instead of 'chaton'.. he always used to tease her that she was a kitten without her claws. The next night, she pressed him on the subject, quietly willful and imploring in a manner she would never have attempted in front of the rest of the family. And he told her. Or rather, showed her, empathy twining with hers as the vivid details of what came to be known as his wife's.. death.. were given. Stunned, forced through her mind to feel and sense every emotion and affliction caused by the event, she was left in the hearthroom in physical.. pain. Just before leaving, he removed the ring and chain from his neck, placing it in her palm. The entrusted, precious piece meant, now, more than it ever could have as a simple band; she had been in his mind, his heart, seen the value of the little metalwork. The gesture itself was a promise; he would not be leaving again, so long as she held to the ring. And she would were it, in memory and love for both her brother, and the departed one who had meant so much to him. And thus, in its own way, to her. But when things grew rough with her, he held true to that promise: when she made an erring choice, he patiently picked up the pieces and put her together once more. There were times when he grew frustrated, certainly, but he never gave up on her (more than could be said for any of the rest), and when push came to shove, and Egan was turned from her. . .then, and only then, did the realization strike her. Only then did she realize what that evasive name was for the feeling that welled at every thought of him. Could she tell him? Find the words to get it across, without the risk of losing the only thing of truth and stability in her life? They had both lost so much already . . .

Sein Latenat

Farrel's twin, and the unvoted bane of the Latenat Household and all its occupants (save one.. but Annika was a sadist's dream, and Cerise hadn't a shred of love for either of them). She let Sein be for the most part simply as an offspin of Farrel: for better or worse, they were two parts to a very strange whole (yan and ying..), and to harm one was to harm the other. Granted, the darker brother seemed to more than make up for Farrel's own even, logical temperament with his own sadistically unbalanced psychosis.. but it gave the family variety, no?