Isaac Davenport's Story

The crinkling of Alice's nose when Simon approached was not lost on him and instinctively, he stepped backwards. Not that it would help at all, he realized. His daughter said nothing on the topic, which was something of a relief. The last thing any of them needed right now was to be fighting; not when a divide in opinions would assuredly result in the division of the rebellion as a whole.

Sunday began speaking of her cousin, Eida, and her relationship with the Dragon boy. Simon listened, nodded, and offered the sort of half-smile that showed he was very much paying attention but that he also had little time for worrying about other people's relationships. Beyond that, he feared supporting this reconciliation would only put ideas in Sunday's head. When she posed a question to him, there was a pause. "It's entirely possible," he murmured, and left it at that.

Simon was curious about her meeting with Alexander, or rather he was only interested in finding out what beneficial information had been exchanged between the two. "My father," he began, "I imagine he shared more than just weaponry and supplies." It was more so a prompt than an outright question; no doubt Sunday would continue from there, had she been given half a chance.

The tent curtains drew back and in waltzed the Fae Prince, Isaac, a cut from his brow producing a steady stream of blood down one side of his face and soaking the collar of his once-white shirt. Wet mud and sporadic patches of blood covered him from head-to-toe. Still he grinned from ear-to-ear, apparently proud of himself. In one hand he held the severely dented helm of a Remei soldier, casual despite the way it burned his skin. "Had a run-in with 'em not too far from here, only be a matter of time 'fore they find this camp too."

He tossed the helmet to the ground by his sister's feet, then leaned against a nearby table with his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't mind me though, if you were talkin' about stuff."

Sunday set to keeping herself busy with the affairs of the camp, with Alice in toe. Leaving the little girl alone for too long was dangerous, just not for Alice. Her powers frightened even Sunday herself, such they were peculiar. Her heritage was not a normal one. Demon, Fae and whatever the hell Alec was at the time. He had been merely Fae of some fashion and if memory served White Wraith but he'd acquired abilities that went beyond that of either of his heritage and she wasn't sure what that was. He manipulated Space Time, shattered the multiverse sending the world back into the dark ages. She didn't understand how even though she knew why. what she didn't understand was why in the name of the dead gods did he give the new world...to her mother. That cruel, violent, hateful bitch instead of Grandmother, who knew how to rule, who was just, firm, surely but just and kind. She remembered fondly how she'd stroke Sunday's hair sweetly when she went in for a hug. Sunday felt the pang in her chest of an oncoming panic attack. She couldn't leave Alice alone but she needed Issac. She was addicted and she knew it but it was the only thing keeping her steady. She knew her father would never approve of what they were doing but he had his vices and she had hers.

She smiled over at Alice. " Come little one, We are going to see your Aunt Eida and Hotaru. " She said and Alice gave her a vacant look but grabbed her rabbit with on hand and her mother's in another and her eyes watched her. Sunday was trapped in her daughter's gaze and memories flooded her mind. "Alice,please" she begged but they kept coming. They weren't just images, but smells, tastes, sensations. As if her entire life happened all at once. "Alice!" She shouted and Alice jumped and snatched her hand away. Sunday clutched her chest. " You can't -" Sunday could barely breath. She fidgetted and swallowed the deep gulps of air. "You can't do that, it is painful" She tokd the girl as diplomatically as possible.
Alice said nothing as usual and sunday grabbed her hand and lead her to where Eida, Hotaru and now Mycah were.

"Lady Sunday!" He said with a smile, Hotaru in his arms but one look at her face and his bright smile faded. , " Is everything alright? " He asked, concerned. Sunday couldn't respond. Mycah was such a good father. He knew for less then a day and all his qualms with Eida were shadows in the light of the fact that he was a father. Eida wouldn't have to do this alone and yet Alec had crested a new world, and left her alone in it with a child she couldn't possibly understand. She was the one that left but did he even care? She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Can you look after-?" Her breath hitched. Mycah was already nodding. " Of course, but? "
"Thank you." And she was off.

Where? To Isaac's tent.
"Issac?!" She called. "Issac, I need you!"

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Zio listened to Hannah's words, his curiosity at its peak, though not a hint of it showed through his expression. He remained motionless, guarded but not outright unwilling to believe. There was a sincerity to her words that the stoic soldier had picked up on throughout the speech.

Of course, very few knew of Alec's survival, let alone the state of the realm and Alec's tie to it. There was something strange about her; he wasn't sure yet if that was good or bad.

"I am not sure how much time we have left. I am in your cell with you, but I do not sense any resistance from you. Are you being treated like this willingly?"

"I am here at Alec's request, so I must endure this treatment until my task is completed," he explained, albeit sparing her all the details. Time was an issue, as she'd said. "I doubt we've enough time here for you to convince me of your trustworthiness, so allow me to propose an idea." Zio lowered himself to his knees, hands placed in his lap, eyes trained ever-still on the stranger. "I will complete the task that ties me to this place, the Rebel Camp, and tomorrow - if all goes well - I will meet you by the entrance of it. I will take you to Alec myself, so that I know you will not launch an ambush, and you may speak your truth to the Prince directly."

The Fey made a small gesture, akin to a shrug, and decided to finish off this confrontation with a stern statement. "If this does not work for you then I'm afraid there is little I can do to help, for I am no fool, but I will not deny you if there's a chance you speak the truth."

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"Isaac?!" called the all-too-familiar voice of Isaac's younger sister, her intentions made clear through the urgency in her tone. The Prince, sitting upon a self-crafted wooden stool and absentmindedly wiping blood from his blade, snapped his gaze upwards. "Isaac, I need you!" she called again upon entering.

With a sharp huff, Isaac set down his blade and rag, and lifted himself from his seat. "Keep your voice down, would'ya?" he answered back, hesitant to close the gap between them until he'd gotten his words out, thereafter followed by actions taken to secure their privacy. "As if there aren't enough rumours already." The likes of which had thus far not found his father's ears, to their incredible luck. Carelessness would only speed up the process.

He side-stepped Sunday, approached the door of his chambers and gently pushed it closed until he heard the ever-so-quiet click of its lock.

"It's not been that long since I last fed, y'know," drawled the suddenly calm and somewhat cocky Prince as he turned to his sister, half-smile hinting that his own assumptions about her needs had left him in a state of amusement. "You're not addicted already, surely?"

Sunday pursed her lips at his remarks. If she had to think about it, he might be right, but she wasn't going to think about it. "It's Alice, She keep s making me remember," she said pacing. " She's too much like him sometime, Issac" she went on. "She can go days, weeks without a word and then suddenly the bombards me with images, memories...It's too much, I just want to forget." She said. " They aren't normal memories, either. Sensations, smells...tastes" She said, trailing off with the last word. She stopped her pacing and wrapped her arms around her. She could feel Alec's lips on hers as if it had just happened, taste the soda he'd drank moments before. It was easier for her to hate him if she didn't keep bringing up the good memories, the ones of a simpler time, where it was just them and the biggest problem they had was their parents finding out or worse, Grandmother.
She could have laughed but instead, she sobbed. Just once, before snapping her hand over her mouth. "Can we just? Surely you're hungry?" she said, her brown eyes glossy with unfallen tears. She wouldn't force him of course, but vampires where naturally insatiable creatures...so what if she exploited it just a little. It benefited both of then in the end.

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Unsurprisingly, Isaac had been expecting a stronger reaction after such a teasing question, but had little time to strike a second jab at her potentially wavering patience.

"It's Alice, she keeps making me remember," Sunday confided. As she began pacing back and forth, Isaac rested the weight of his upper body against the wooden door, watching her. "She's too much like him sometime, Issac."

The slight mention (or hint) of Sunday's former lover had him clench his jaw in annoyance. Much that he hadn't mentioned it, he'd always been distrustful of the young girl for that reason alone. She gave off a weird vibe, and he always made a point of avoiding being alone with her.

"She can go days, weeks without a word and then suddenly the bombards me with images, memories... It's too much, I just want to forget," she further explained. "They aren't normal memories, either. Sensations, smells... tastes."

Isaac shook his head, as if to dispel whatever foul thoughts threatened to dig their way in.

"Sunday," he murmured, before her choked sob stole the words straight out of his mouth. She truly wasn't okay, and his protective instincts kicked right in.

"Can we just? Surely you're hungry?"

Isaac gave it a moment, then nodded. "Hungry enough," he confirmed, pushing his weight off the door to close the distance between them. As always, there was a heavy knot in his stomach as he ventured over to her, be it nerves or something else entirely.

One hand moved to the right side of her jaw, pushing her face the other way, and another pulled at the leather jacket that covered her shoulder, exposing alabaster skin.

Standing so close, he could hear her quickening heartbeat and see the rapid rise and fall of her chest - near enough matching his own. The height distance between them meant he had quite a distance in which to lower his head, but soon enough his lips were hovering above her skin, parting wide enough to reveal extended canine teeth. There was a moment or two of hesitation, partly from self-preparation though he knew it would drive her crazy, before he allowed his teeth to break the surface of her skin.