tampered | Log: Ongoing

Log: Ongoing

When; March 18, evening
Rating; PG-13? Mostly for drama.
Characters;

lyra_of_dust
Summary; Seishirou messes with Lyra's mind a bit.
Log;
Lyra was sitting on the couch, Pantalaimon curled up in her lap as she idly paged through a textbook that she'd carried with her when she'd come to the city. She wasn't actually reading it- merely flipping the pages out of habit, and trying rather hard not to think about the other person in the flat.

Sakurazuka Seishirou frightened her, in the same way her mother did- although unlike her mother, she'd never seen him drop his kind facade. Hopefully, she never would. Hopefully, Kamui would regain his senses soon enough and move out, and she would leave with him-she was pretty sure the only reason the man had invited her in the first place was because of her connection with Kamui, so she should be able to get away easily enough. Hopefully.

Pantalaimon twitched in response to her musings, and she laid a hand on his fur. That was another thing to worry about- did he understand what Pantalaimon was? Lyra was certain he knew her companion was no normal animal, but beyond that... Well, no point in worrying. She'd already noticed how her nervous reactions seemed to only provoke more false kindness-she didn't know if he was trying to deceive her or just enjoyed seeing her squirm.

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Her subconscious had been strangely guarded when he had delved within, and he certainly knew the reason why now. It hadn't been hard, to be honest; when he had been certain she was in so deep a sleep as hardly anything would awaken her, Seishirou had taken the opportunity to see exactly what it was within her memories that affected her as they did. The trip had been worth it for the valuable information he had extracted, but now he had to wonder how the information would help him in application.

The day had been a bright one - bright enough to show the immense amount of dust that littered the bookshelves, curtains, and picture frames about the apartment. When he had seen it all, he hadn't been immediately concerned with it. However, with the night already upon them all, it had seemed as though the problem hadn't ceased to pester him. A little tuned hummed on his breath while, with a fluffy feather duster, he brushed away the dust upon the myriad books he had at his disposal. Only once he had the one volume of an entire encyclopaedia set (curiously enough, it was the letter H) free of all dust did he cast an observant eye to Lyra.

And why shouldn't he put into practice the knowledge he had acquired? That woman he had seen... the attractive raven-haired woman who seemed to inspire so many mixed emotions within that girl upon his sofa... she had a stronger impact upon Lyra than the girl had admitted. And that strong impact he could use against her.

Pantalaimon's sense of hearing was sharper than Lyra's, and he jerked his head up to glare at the man. As soon as her dæmon knew, so did she. Lyra stiffened, and focused intently on a paragraph in the text without actually reading a single word, while her right hand gripped Pantalaimon's fur tightly.

Which would be more likely to let her avoid interacting with him? Staying put, or getting up? Staying put, most likely. Right. So just stay put, and he'd probably ignore her. At least, unlike her mother, there wasn't that monkey dæmon of hers to worry about. Pantalaimon flinched, remembering the time he'd been caught in the monkey's paws, that cold and curious cruelty that she was certain this man possessed as well.

Blue eyes fixed on the page, she resolved not to make eye contact with the man. Simply being around him was bad enough.

The creature that sat upon her lap shot him quite a curious look, which only elicited a small, friendly smile right back. That, he was certain, was some sort of familiar to Lyra - much like his own Nandarou. But just where the similarities ended, he wasn't too sure. Nothing that he couldn't find out later, however.

"I take it that book is rather fascinating?" he asked with a genial voice. The very way which her eyes scanned the page - merely skimming over the words before turning the page - tipped him off. She wasn't really reading; if she were, anyhow, it wasn't at all with the appropriate speed or concentration. However, if she wanted him to believe that her current preoccupation was that book, then he would play along. He turned about his body to face them both while he watched on, a mockery of an approving smile upon his face.

Pantalaimon's fur began to bristle, showing the hostility that Lyra was keeping suppressed-or trying to at least. Lyra gritted her teeth slightly as she looked up.

"It's a textbook from my world. I was carrying it when I came here," she explained. She was actually doing a good job of keeping her voice and expression pleasant, though her dæmon's open hostility rather ruined the effect.

She forced herself to smile- she'd had enough practice that it would actually be convincing to most people, although she doubted it would fool this man. Especially considering the snarling pine marten on her lap.

"The weather today was lovely, wasn't it?" she could feel Pantalaimon's hostility, but he heeded her silent requests and began to calm down. Pretend. Even though no one in the room really believed it, she'd have to pretend. It shouldn't be too hard. Just put up with that kind facade a for a bit, and not think about what was behind it.

The creature was displaying rather interestingly that lurking anger, hatred - dare he even mention the possible fear there? The smile so forced, the voice well-practised. Had it been anyone else, well, it would have been believable. It took like to know like, however, and Seishirou had far outstripped the young girl in the mastery of such deceptions before.

Sharp amber eyes barely seemed softened by that warm smile he displayed - but of course, that was all for effect, and it lasted barely a moment before a rich gold replaced the look in his eyes. And certainly she had suspicions that he wasn't so stupid as to believe the show she put on. "Don't you wish it looked that beautiful every day?" he responded to her in so light a tone as to seem conversational.

As he turned again to face the bookshelf, though, his image seemed to fade. His smile no longer his, the stance he had uncharacteristic of himself... a smile curved far too delicately for a man and eyes far too bright watched the girl before it all faded. He had remembered her appearance - younger than she seemed, really, and far too attractive for her own good. A flash of it, and it was gone.

Pantalaimon was no longer snarling, merely resting in her lap and glaring, and Lyra had set aside the book to rest both of her hands in his fur. Both girl and dæmon watched Seishirou carefully, and noted that split second where his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I dunno... if it was like this every day, it would get boring," she replied in an equally conversational tone. This was hardly pleasant but... it was bearable.

Then something happened, and for an instant, it wasn't Sakurazuka Seishirou in front of her. Lyra barely stopped herself from crying out, but her blue eyes widened, and she clutched Pantalaimon tightly to her chest. That- that wasn't possible. She was seeing things. She shook her head slightly, then stared at Sakurazuka, keeping her face blank, though she was unable to prevent traces of suspicion and fear from filtering into her pale blue eyes.

"Perhaps you're right." He could see the odd look in her eyes... just the intent he had had in mind, actually. And though he knew that she was suspecting something, there still was room for reasonable doubt on her part. If anything, well, he always did have the ability of suppressing such a memory if needed. He shot her a warm, almost empathic look while he continued to dust off what appeared to be a rather large tome of a complete library of Shakespearean works.

And again, the appearance contradicted the reality. Raven black hair curved around a face of delicate feminine beauty before those bright eyes, again, looked to the girl. A smile made her face appear to bloom with radiance, but then it faded and all that was left was Seishirou's own sweet grin. "Have you properly eaten yet?"

Lyra was still too shaken to reply to that, although she narrowed her eyes. What was going on? Was this some kind of trick, or...

When it happened again, a small gasp managed to escape Lyra's throat, and Pantalaimon cast about nervously, searching for that monkey dæmon. But of course, he wasn't there. What had just happened? For a moment, it had looked like...

She glanced down toward Pantalaimon, her silent question wordlessly answered. He'd seen it to. Were they going mad? Or was this man playing some kind of trick.

When Lyra didn't respond to his rather simple question, he knew that whatever foundations of her sanity she possessed had just been shaken enough to merit deep internal questions. Well, Seishirou hadn't really expected anything otherwise. Lyra herself had mentioned the importance of her mother to her, and even without such clues he had received he was able to piece together that idea with relative ease since he had delved deep within her subconscious. He wasn't startled by the sudden gasp she had let go - but he pretended to look a touch concerned.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, taking a step forward to the girl and her "pet". Whether or not she would answer was inconsequential. Actions did speak louder than words; thus, once he was near enough to Lyra, he placed a hand on her forehead, the other imitating the action on his own forehead as a temperature gauge of sorts. "You're not ill, are you?"

"I think I'm seeing things," she muttered, glancing at him. Two possibilities presented themselves. Either she'd caught that virus White had released- she knew it could cause hallucinations, although she probably would have noticed the fever before- or Sakurazuka was playing some kind of trick. Kamui had mentioned the man was powerful, but he hadn't mentioned what sort of power... And when Fuuma had shown up in the city, he'd somehow managed to look like Will. Maybe this was something similar? They were from the same world after all. Lyra bit her lip nervously as he approached her.

In the morning, she'd ask Kamui about Sakurazuka's powers, and Zaheela to check if she had gotten sick. Something about Sakurazuka's reaction made her suspect it wasn't the virus. She knew the man had probably noticed her reaction the first time he'd been replaced by Marisa Coulter for a moment. Lyra prided herself on her abilities as a liar, but Sakurazuka and her mother were both far more skilled than her. It was a level of skill Lyra had no desire to attain, considering part of the price appeared to be an inability to ever be completely sincere. Well, she'd been able to deceive her mother, so she'd probably be able to deceive him as well. It wouldn't be easy, but she cold probably convince him she thought she'd caught that virus White had set loose.

Lyra flinched slightly at the contact, and Pantalaimon darted across the room. Allowing the man to get within arms length of her dæmon might lead to him touching Pantalaimon- and even if she'd been fully balanced and in control of herself, which she certainly wasn't now, she wouldn't have been able to hide the overwhelming weakness, nausea, and sense of violation that came whenever another person (besides Will) touched her dæmon. His kindness was like her mother's- doting, maternal, and utterly false, yet a part of her wanted to believe it ayway. At least he didn't smell like her- well, except for that strange metallic note she picked up behind the mingled scents of smokeleaf and cherry blossoms and a few other things she couldn't quite identify.

"I might be... I know there's a virus going around, and one of the symptoms is hallucinating stuff. That, and throwing up blood and getting a fever..." she trailed off nervously, glancing at the ground. "I mean, no one's died from it yet... but a lot of 'em are really sick..." her eyes met hers, and she gave him a frightened look.

He had heard of that virus that had spread - a rather vicious one, true, but he also knew all of the side effects. If Lyra wished to continue in the illusion that she really was sick, he knew she'd have to be quite the clever liar to make it all so convincing. There seemed at least one thing she had inherited from her mother - he could tell that she had at least a budding skill of perpetrating falsities. Her acting, well, it was rather good, but he knew better. After all, he was the one to weave such small, although psychologically devastating and powerful, little tricks of the eyes.

His hand slid away from her forehead, but his stare remained absolutely focused upon the girl. "You don't seem to have a fever, dear," he replied thoughtfully. "Though, for a minute, you looked a bit tense and pale..." He took a moment to look over Lyra with a scrutinous stare; he seemed, finally, though, to have an idea spring up from within some deep recess, and a gently curved fist hit his open palm. "I'll make some tea," he announced before again turning a pleasant smile to the girl. "That might ease your tension."

The light of a rather tall lamp flashed in his eyes as he approached in on the way to the kitchen... that light, though, wasn't reflecting his eyes. That curved mouth, the dark hair that seemed to perfectly frame that face - her face - shone with a soft light before it faded. He moved about the kitchen, opening cupboards as he searched for the stash of green tea he had on hand. He knew she saw it... what he didn't know was whether or not she was beginning to doubt everything.

Lyra stared past him, her face carefully blank, although she let out miserable little moan before he headed out into the kitchen as she curled up on the couch, Pantalaimon coming to rest beside her. Lyra knew she wasn't sick... and she couldn't exactly fake the symptoms, but she'd try anyway.

So Lyra lay curled up unhappily on the couch as she watched her mother fade in and out of where Sakurazuka was standing, she let a small whimper escape her throat. Even if she was fairly sure this was all some kind of trick... Lyra may have inherited a talent for lying from her mother, but there was a reason so many people said she favored her father, and not just because she rather resembled him. Both Lord Asriel and his daughter shared not only a ruthless sort of optimism, but also a sense of confident certainty that made it difficult for either of them to doubt themselves.

But even if she knew it was just a trick, and part of the same complicated act-and she would unravel it, she thought fiercely to herself-as the rest of his actions around her, Lyra knew that she wasn't sick, and the possibility that she was going insane had simply never occurred to her.

Unfortunately, even though she knew it was false, all the kind little actions did not leave her completely unmoved. She'd been disgusted by this weakness of hers at first, but now she saw a way to use it. All the best lies have a bit of truth in them, after all. Let him think she was pretending to be sick, while actually falling for whatever he was doing.

Eventually he gave up his search and, instead, settled on the packs of sushi-bar style green tea he had found beside a bag of flour and a box of cereal. Once he pulled out two packs, he set them aside and began to fill a kettle with water. He had a feeling she was up to something - not without reason, of course. Lyra was a clever girl, and she had proved such several times before.

The kettle finally was set upon the warming stove, and Seishirou again approached the girl to examine her once more. "I hope you don't mind if I only seem to have green tea," he commented with an apologetic tone before he sat in the chair close to the sofa she had occupied. "I should have been better prepared, I guess." For a moment, he placidly stared at Lyra.

A sudden small chuckle left him, and he canted his head slightly to the side... and the illusion seemed to reappear quickly. It lasted a touch longer than usual; her figure, her countenance riddled with that smile so insincere as to make it seem genuine, replaced him entirely. Had he a mind to, he would have let it sit there, hovering about him as warm as the furs the woman had seemed so fond of, but as soon as it appeared, it all faded away. "Are you feeling a little better, dear?" he asked, continuing on in nearly so flippant a manner as to make it seem nothing had happened just a moment ago.

Lyra struggled weakly into a sitting position as he approached her, and she let her eyes widen and another small gasp escape her throat as the image of her mother again appeared. Just play along, show him whatever reaction he wanted out of her, and then talk to Kamui about this later.

"I- no I don't think I am," she mumbled after a few minutes, fearful confusion filling her expression as she looked everywhere in the room but at the man in front of her. "I think I'm..." she trailed off nervously, both arms tightly clutching Pantalaimon to her chest.

Had there not been a slight hesitation in the reaction he had received, Seishirou would have believed it, to be honest. The timing... it was all about that. His eyes narrowed just barely, and yet he managed to keep it within the realm of the act he had to maintain by assuming a thoughtful look. "Surely you've slept enough... and you didn't feel warm," he thought out loud. "Have you been eating properly?"

He knew it was all a raving act, and yet the course of action he decided to take was merely to allow it to continue. Eventually, those ill-woven lies would unravel at her feet, and he'd be the victor of the subtle battle they both were fighting at the moment.

"Mm... There were those cinnamon buns Nill brought over- you remember those?" she asked him quietly, blinking at him through bleary eyes.

"I guess... with all the stuff that's been going on, I've been getting worried about stuff beyond my control that doesn't really involve my world. Those stupid horsemen... I hope this virus is the last of it," she rambled, glancing at him occasionally with eyes that contained nothing but concerned innocence.

That look in her eyes - that occupation with others' welfare - something in it was genuine. He made a note of that as he gazed right into those eyes patiently, but a gentle crescendo of a whistle seemed to distract him in his small reverie. He blinked first, looking around the room quizzically before he smiled and chuckled with apparent embarrassment. "Ah, the water's boiling," he explained while he rose from his seat and took to the kitchen quickly.

Once he had the water poured over the tea, he let it sit there for a few moments. A sly look in his eye watched her from over his shoulder; he briefly contemplated continuing the sleek manipulations of vision he had used against Lyra, but then again, he also knew when to quit when the going was good.

The three minutes that were required to let the tea seemed to pass relatively quickly, and once that was out of the way he took the two cups, both teabags that had been in the water disposed of, and approached the girl again. "You shouldn't worry so much about things you have no power over," he replied in a cajoling timbre as he handed Lyra one of the cups gently. "That's a rather self-defeating thing, isn't it?"

Lyra waited patiently as he prepared the tea, watching him with a bland expression. She was warily waiting for him to try that trick with Mrs. Coulter's image again, though he didn't use it again. Yet.

"I worry... because I know that even though a lot of people here talk about keeping fights they brought with them from their own world from involving other people... that's not really possible. Everything eventually spills over and starts affecting people who weren't originally involved... And the thing is... I thought at first there was nothing I could do to help Fakir with that whole mess with the hearts, but it turned out there was," she explained calmly.

"This mess with the horsemen is already starting to spill over," she continued in a matter of fact tone, as she looked him coolly in the eye, "Moving in with you and Kamui is starting to look like a better and better choice- considering how close my old flat is to where they've moved in now."

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Log: Ongoing

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