The Avenging Angel || The Angel's Memories. . . #1
Mar 3, 2018 16:33:57 GMT -5
Adrien | Adam likes this
Post by Jessica | Rémiel on Mar 3, 2018 16:33:57 GMT -5
// Please credit an off-camera point to JOHNNY MAVERICK. Thank you. ♥ //
The Avenging Angel
Xaria Veronica Karloff
The Angel’s Memories. . . | The Character Development
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On this night, within the NoMad Hotel in Manhattan, New York, there’s a private event hosted by Crimson Incorporated. Many people of great importance have gathered at the NoMad Bar and they’re talking among themselves. Among them is a woman with wavy blonde hair and bright green eyes wearing a lovely sky blue dress that falls just below her knees and a pair of white high heels. The small golden hoop earrings dangle as she takes a slow drink of her strawberry watermelon sparkling water.
“More sparkling water, madame?” One of the waiters asks her.
She turns to face him and offers a weak smile. “Si’vous plait.”
Co-Owner of three-Michelin-star restaurant Le Beau Paradis in Paris, France, Xaria Veronica Ford, holds her half-empty glass up and allows the waiter to pour more of the water she enjoys. Once it’s filled back up, she politely bows her head and he dismisses himself. She raises her glass in her left hand and her eyes catch sight of her wedding ring. A frown crosses her face before she takes a quiet sip. It’s a new marriage and yet...
“Sir, this is a formal event…” the Concierge says from behind his small podium.
“Oh come on, I put on pants today. What more do people want from me?” The individual says. He was in a pair of acid washed jeans, red Converse Chuck Taylors, and a Hoodie with a shuriken emblem over the heart. He noisily chews on his gum.
“Sorry sir, this is a private event so unless you’re on the list…” The Concierge says, making a few subtle glances to security.
“Oh I’m on the list.” the knave says before blowing a bubble and loudly popping his gum.
“Your name then?” The Concierge responds, attempting to call the bluff of the assumed vagrant.
“Fitzsimmons.” He responds. The concierge lightly chuckles.
“Very funny, but I’m afraid that’s the name of the individual running this event and…” The Concierge says before he is interrupted by someone speaking in his earpiece. He turns a ghostly shade of white.
“My apologies, Sir. Please, may I take your jacket?” The concierge offers. The Knave takes off his hoodie to reveal a shirt reading ‘STOP READING MY SHIRT’ and tosses it to the man behind the podium as he walks past him, security parting for him as he makes a beeline for the bar.
“Isn’t he dead?” Someone beside Xaria says as they see the man make his entrance. Women make eyes at him. He plays disinterested. For all he knew, they were into him for who his dad was. This was Johnathan Kennedy Fitzsimmons, better known to the world as Johnny Maverick. He had indeed spent some time dead recently (‘for tax reasons’ he claimed). He negotiated with the bartender for a larger beer glass for a few moments before finally convincing him to bust out a full-sized German beer boot that he has filled with a tasty Belgian beer called ‘Hoegaarden’. Satisfied with his massive drinking vessel Johnny turns around to realize everyone in the room is looking at him. He quietly sips the foam at the top of his enormous beer in response.
Can a dead man walk? Xaria looks over her shoulder and sees the man everyone is conversing about. She sees the way the businesswomen are ogling him with their eyes. She sees the shock and jealousy on the faces of businessmen. Shaking her head, she seems to recognize who he is and she quietly turns away. She takes a sip of her water and sighs softly.
For a dead man, Johnny’s a handsome man.
She crosses one leg over the other, her petite French form sitting quietly. Her eyes glance up at the clock on the wall. Isn’t their host supposed to be arriving soon? She received the invitation, and although she didn’t want to go, she wasn’t one to turn down an important event that required her immediate attention. She’s scanned over the invitations of the other invited guests and she’s noticed how different hers is.
“I just want to go home…” She sighs softly. She notices someone very official looking leaning in to whisper something to Johnny just as someone leans in to whisper to her that Daniel wishes to meet with her before he joins the party. She glances back to them and takes a deep breath. “...Monsieur Daniel wishes to meet with me? Where?” She asks quietly.
“He has a suite. I’ll lead the way.” The individual responds, very clearly a member of Daniel’s security team. Another member of the security team walks off with Johnny following with his large beer boot.
Xaria wonders why the organization of a private meeting before the event takes place. She doesn’t have any time to question it before she simply steps down from her tall seat. Of course, she takes her vintage Louis Vuitton handbag and her sparkling water with her. She can feel the prying eyes of those curious as to what’s going on, but she pays them no attention as she allows the security guard to escort her. What catches her attention is she notices Johnny is also being escorted and she tilts her head in wonder. “...?”
The elevator ride would’ve been uneventful save for a brief five second period where the lights cut out and the elevator stopped. Security seemed panicked for a moment before the lights came on and the ride resumed smoothly. Xaria is lead to the suite where Johnny is seated, now at about the ‘mid-calf’ level of his beer boot.
“Oh uh...Xaria. Hey.” Johnny says. Johnny had a thing. A Xaria thing. One of those things he dared never act on because he genuinely liked Xaria and he didn’t make passes at women or men he genuinely liked anymore out of fear he’d fuck their life up.
“Bonjour, Monsieur Johnny.” Xaria politely greets him in her native language. She offers a weak yet warm smile before she moves to sit down on the seat next to his. The table between them is a lovely cherry wood, smooth and polished. There’s one seat opposite of theirs, most certainly for Daniel Fitzsimmons. She takes a sip of her sparkling water before she glances down at her handbag. It’s not just vintage, it’s pink. It’s colorful just like her. She crosses one leg over the other and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “One of the businessmen asked if you were dead? Certainly confused me because you look very much alive, oui?”
“Yeah I uh…after all the...unpleasantness with Emily I sorta… I needed to get away from the world for a while and I didn’t want anyone to come looking for me. I know that may seem selfish but...I mean it was. I don’t have any real excuse for it.” Johnny says, running a hand through his hair. Outside of a crowd and in front of Xaria… there was a vulnerability to Johnny. One of the security guys sets a laptop on the chair across from the two of them and opens it, starting a video call with Daniel.
“Uh….hi Dad. You got smaller.” Johnny says. Daniel rolls his eyes and adjusts his dark red tie.
“Work pulled me away. Some big mistake in payroll I need to deal with. Heads will roll and all that. I just wanted to apologize to both of you specifically as I had made plans to speak with you, Xaria, about investing in your restaurant and….well just to catch up with you, Johnathan, since you’ve decided to rejoin the land of the living. My sincerest apologies but I have to make sure my employees are being paid properly. I’m starting to think that Dixon bastard is intentionally sabotaging me. Hm. Anyway, I won’t be using this room so Johnny you are welcome to the accommodations for a few days as I know you don’t have anywhere to stay in the city. Again, my sincerest apologies and… I would be remiss in not mentioning that you look positively lovely, Mrs. Ford.” Danny says.
“Merci, Monsieur Daniel.” Xaria smiles and politely bows her head. “We’ll reschedule our meeting for another time. I’m never too far away.” There’s an air of modesty to the young woman. Top-tier professional wrestler and co-owner of a three-Michelin-star restaurant, yet there’s not a single touch of arrogance to her.
Still, she finds it strange that everything’s fallen the way it has. She looks around the suite, her curiosity taking over as she looks back to Daniel. “I’m going to have a look around. I hope you don’t mind. S'il vous plaît excusez-moi.” She bows her head once more before she rises to her feet and begins to explore the NoMad suite. Her wanderlust is driving now, even leaving her handbag behind in the range of Johnny’s trust.
“I trust you find the accommodations comfortable, son? Do you need another...boot?” Danny asks as Johnny finishes the contents of the beer boot, getting a little bit of splashback. Johnny looks around and notices all the security had gone but he shrugs this off.
“I'm sure I'll find some way to entertain myself,” Johnny says. Danny raises an eyebrow. Xaria was out of earshot.
“Not what I meant,” Johnny says, realizing what that eyebrow meant.
“Of course, boy. I know you better than that. Just having a bit of fun.” Daniel says warmly.
Curiosity draws Xaria to the bedroom of the suite and she takes a step inside. Her eyes look upon the bed and she breathes slowly. Her left ring finger fidgets, but the rest of her hand is still. A single thought runs through her mind, but it’s not what one would expect.
“...that’s… not my perfume…”
“What?”
“Jackson… this isn’t the smell of my perfume on your shirt…”
He told her he was looking to buy her a brand new perfume as a gift, so he tested one and he accidentally sprayed himself. She wasn’t sure if she could believe that, especially when Chelsea Pryce told her that she saw him conversing with two women in a cowboy bar. That unsettling feeling crawls over her body as she places her left hand on the edge of the bed.
“...I don’t know what to believe…”
“Yeah well have a bit of fun elsewhere. Bye pops.” Johnny says, reaching out and closing the laptop. He stands and walks over to the window, looking out over the city. He rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and looks at his inner arm. Track marks. They’d never go away. Some of the bruising was still there.
“I don’t...I don’t understand what I did.”
“You didn’t have to do anything, Johnny. I had an affair. I’m leaving. That’s all there is to it.”
And then his old dealer found him… It was an easy sell.
He sees his own reflection on the glass. He doesn’t even feel like he knows who he’s looking at. He seems so focused on this, he doesn’t realize a hand is reaching out to him until it actually touches him. Xaria’s gentle hand settles on his upper right arm.
“Monsieur Johnathan…?”
She had returned from the bedroom, perhaps to nullify the flashback, and she weakly smiled. “Are you alright?” It’s her left hand on his right arm, but… she’s not wearing her wedding ring now.
“Hm?” Johnny says, turning and looking at her. “Oh….yeah, I’m fine. I was just…” he trails off. Even through the cloud of beer forming around his thoughts, he noticed the absence of the ring. He had been in this situation before. He was not going to jump to any conclusions.
“The view here is really nice,” Johnny says though he was no longer looking out the window.
Ugh, that wasn’t even on purpose.
“How about you? You doing okay?” Johnny asks.
Xaria shakes her head slowly. “I wish I could say I am, but that would be a lie. Lying is not my forte.”
A few strands of her wavy blonde hair fall in front of her. When he turns towards her, she sees the peculiar markings on his inner right arm, and her eyes lull halfway. Instinctively, her left hand slowly moves over and her fingertips trace along the marks. She recognizes them and a frown crosses her face.
“Seems we both have demons on the surface…”
Without any sleeves, she moves her left hand away, only for her to turn her left arm. She licks her right thumb before she begins to thoroughly wipe against a small part on her inner left arm to remove the… makeup. Beyond that, there are markings that resemble his own, though hers are faint over the years.
That’s when Johnny makes the first big mistake. He touches her like she did him. He places his hands on her arms and his thumb glides against the marks. He had no idea. He could never envision Xaria going through that. It didn’t match up with the vision of her he had in his mind. He looks up and their eyes meet.
“Xaria...I had no…” Johnny says trailing off.
They sure were close. Perhaps too close. Xaria takes a slow, deep breath and looks into his eyes. There’s no hiding the vulnerability. She can read him like an open book.
“It’s a well-kept secret. There are only a select few people who know the truth and I can count them on one hand.” Her right hand gently settles over his chest and she feels his heartbeat. “I… I don’t know what you’re going through, but… I can feel myself spiraling in the same direction. I can almost feel his lips on someone else’s, even though I don’t have any proof…”
That heart under his t-shirt was starting to beat pretty fast. Johnny reaches up to her face, brushing a strand of her wavy blonde hair away from her Angelic countenance.
“It’s hard… to make sense of it all, isn’t it? The only thing that’s certain is uncertainty.” Johnny says. He was moving in closer.
“C’est la vie.” He adds before his lips meet hers.
Her bright green eyes widen at the moment. Their lips are brushing together in a kiss that surprises her. Despite her own fear and anxiety, she doesn’t draw away from him. Instead, she lulls her eyes and returns the kiss with a sweetness that’s comparable to that of an angel’s. She knows this is wrong and yet the sense of unfaithfulness from her husband leaves her to wonder…
Is it already over between the two of them?
The kiss is broken by Johnny who actually takes a step back.
“That was… Sorry.” Johnny says, not exactly forming a coherent sentence. She was a married woman. He had felt something toward her but he could never… He liked her too much to try and ruin her life by being too big a part of it.
“I don’t know what came over me.” Johnny lied. A boot full of beer and a couple years of attraction to this obviously beautiful woman came over him.
“M-Monsieur…” Xaria shakes her head slowly. “It’s… just… you and I…” For a moment, it almost feels like she can’t breathe. She takes her own step back and turns to look over at the table where she left her handbag. The young Frenchwoman makes her way over to unzip her handbag and look inside. Her glass of sparkling water is close by.
“...If this is wrong… then after so many years, I don’t want to be right…”
She retrieves a small bottle of birth control pills, twists it open, and places one on her tongue. With the glass in her free hand, she drinks the rest of the sparkling water and swallows the pill without a second thought.
“...just once…” She turns towards him, her eyes gazing deeply into his. “...maybe twice…”
“We’ll...play it by ear,” Johnny says, just before the petite Frenchwoman finds herself pinned to the wall. They were both done lying to themselves. For the night at least. Maybe two.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
