Your Fairytales (Alyss Blake)

[Michael Smith]

It was a beautiful day, for those who particularly liked warm weather and sunshine. A fair amount of people did seem to be liking the weather, which was unfortunate. They were lounging around the park, soaking up the sun. There were a few people dotted around who seemed somewhat odd but the cooling breeze that blew through the city gave them enough reason to not be lounging around. Michael was one of those not lounging around. He was walking, instead. His hands were in the pockets of his trousers, part of a three piece grey suit. He was much more comfortable in the expensive and posh suits that he was commonly seen in. More than he was in more casual clothing, anyway.

Walking through the gate of North City Park, Michael's lips curled in dislike. So many ordinary people. So many boring people. They were so ordinary. Gotham had so many unusual and interesting people but he had yet to have a conversation with one of them. He wouldn't even mind talking to Joker, sometimes. He was the villain in charge and Michael certainly wasn't going to challenge his throne. Michael was happy to live in a city where the clown ruled the people and the king of the knights did nothing but fight him. It kept their attention away from Michael and that was worth having someone so obvious in charge. It really was.

Michael wasn't stupid. He knew that the police would only focus on one member of the criminal kingdom at a time. As long as that member was not Michael, he was happy. Indeed, he had no reason not to be happy. If he wanted attention, he could easily get it. At that moment in time, though, he really didn't want it and didn't need it. He had his ways and he had his reasons.

His gaze caught someone on a bench and he was going to just ignore them until he realised what they had with them. Grimm's fairytales. Well, that was another story. Walking over silently, Michael didn't say a single word until he sat down, at which point he looked at her with a bored expression.

"Snow White's the best." He commented, thinking of the ending of their version of Snow White, in which the Evil Queen was invited to the wedding and then forced to dance in burning shoes until she died. Why Michael had never used that before was beyond him, but he was certainly going to now. Why wouldn't he? It was perfect... So perfect... Though not something he was going to mention aloud, of course. Surprises were so much better, after all...

((Notes: I hope this is okay! kinda lost it at the end... D:))

[Alyss Jay Blake]

Alyss Jay Blake sat in the park on a bench. It was her favorite spot now. She hated being home and the only person she seemed to really care about any longer was locked up. She was always either here or at his side. She had completely changed since the divorce of her parents. She wore black and white stripped leggings and a black shirt with some nonsense about some death metal band. She wore it for the picture of the silver skull with the black snake winding through it's mouth and eye sockets.

In her hands she clutched a new book. Grimm's Fairy Tales. She liked them more than anything because they proved life never ends happily and put a sinister twist on the stories she loved as a little girl. Perfect considering that was the way her life had gone. Taking a disastrously sinister twist as of late.

She had obviously heard the man approaching, but decided to do not a thing about it, considering she didn't care any more. When he sat down, she stuck her thumb in her book and closed it, running her index finger over the design on the front page. She smiled faintly as the patterns slid smoothly beneath her fingers. "I quite liked that one as well... Several people I know who I want to have that happen." She didn't care if this man thought she was crazy. Maybe she was.

[Michael Smith]

Michael nodded almost distractedly, his gaze turning to the others in the park slowly. Yes. That would be rather sweet. Rather fun. It would be so easy to do, too. Wooden shoes that burned... Just set light to them and watch them dance... Indeed, now that Michael was thinking about the Grimm versions of fairytales, he was coming up with a fair few good things to do to people. It would be perfect, certainly. So easy. So fun. So perfect. He should use those a few times. He might use them soon, actually. It would be interesting. Watching the funny little police running around, scratching their heads. That was always fun...

"It would be easy to do. Even I could do it to them." He looked at her and glanced over her outfit momentarily before looking at her face. How ordinary. "For a price." Everyone had their prices, and Michael was no exception. His was ever so slightly higher than most peoples', though. But given that he was possibly the only active criminal for hire, he could afford to keep his prices high and his clients elite. Mobsters and Mafia members. It wasn't normal that he offered his services to one so young, though she interested him just a little. Grimm fairytales weren't particularly popular, after all. They were rather grim.

"Revenge isn't a good motive, though. The feelings die out." He stated, guessing at why she'd want anyone to be tortured or injured. She seemed unhappy. She seemed like she didn't want to be here. He could only imagine why. She also seemed to be at peace with herself. Of course, this was all based on what he could see, but that didn't matter. Sometimes the eye caught more than anything else. "It's also so easy to figure out who did it." He added as though bored. His gaze turned away from her as a child screamed. Near-by, two children were running around not too far away. They were so boring. Of course, they were only children, but that didn't matter. Children could easily be interesting. Be extraordinary. It was just a shame that these weren't...

[Alyss Jay Blake]

Alyss slipped out her pale blue silk bookmark, a splotch of dark red marked where she had bled on it after cutting herself in a low moment of her life. She kept the bookmark as a reminder - and it fit the air of this book. She looked at him more closely. "And what kind of a price would that be?" She asked, interested.

She shifted on the bench, moving a bit, her shirt lifting slightly to reveal an old scar as she tugged her shirt back down over it. She couldn't really send this man after her mother could she? No, she wasn't that far gone...was she? She could send him after the man whom had 'taken her' from her biological father, but what would be the point? A depressed mother and a depressed father. Her life had taken a deep enough dive already.

She smirked ever so faintly. "Revenge...Tastes bitter...but maybe...picking on those whom are innocent to you so that someone else feels your pain..." She shook her head, turning to look at the screaming children. The kids who would never know her horrors. Never fight her battles. Never face her fears. Never suffer her pain. Never feel her loss. No one could say they had been dead and somehow came back. No one would feel what she felt over her parents divorce. Her father dead, her mother moving on, then her father living again. She had already caught her father with a gun to his head - again... She smirked faintly and twisted her fingers, a small flame coming over the tips. A new trick death had granted her...She didn't care anymore who knew, and she wasn't so keen to shift into a wolf at the moment...

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[Michael Smith]

The bookmark was obvious as she moved it, and Michael momentarily wondered whose blood it was. Probably hers. That was exceedingly likely... Her words surprised him, though. He hadn't expected her to ask about the price. A girl such as herself, she probably couldn't even afford him... That was beside the point though. She'd asked. She was interested. That was... Intriguing. Interesting.

Not ordinary.

She might not be as boring as he first thought. Indeed, it seemed that he was wrong for once. That was different. That was extraordinary. How strange... How grand yet how strange. If only he could learn more about her first, though. His source would no doubt be able to. He doubted there was anything his source couldn't find out, after all. He didn't want his source to find out about her, though. No. No. That wouldn't do at all. She had a story to tell and he would get it out of her. It might be quite grim, but then so was life, sometimes...

"A high price. You don't do something like this for something so cheap." He answered. "Dear princess... Dear queen... What price would you be offering to me?" He asked, looking at her, now curious as to her answer. Oh yes, she was interesting... She was different. So very different. A small smile perched on his lips at the idea of her being so different. He never saw this coming, certainly.

As she moved, he caught sight of a scar momentarily. She wasn't a stranger to pain. That was good. Pain strengthened people, Michael believed. Strengthened the mind against emotional, painful attacks... She spoke again, this time about revenge. Revenge was a dish best served now, as was well known by some. Not her, it seemed. Not at all. What a shame. What a very big shame. Revenge was so useful, sometimes. So useful as a reason. So useful for emotion. So useful for motivation.

"Perhaps..." He nodded, considering the idea. He really shouldn't have been talking down revenge, considering the fact that his father had died due to revenge. Due to revenge for him being such a jerk... Such an asshole. Michael rarely thought or said such unsavoury words, but when it came to that man? Well, he would happily make an exception. The man had been a drunk and certainly not a father. Not in Michael's opinion, anyway. He'd always been a little bit... Disappointing.

"Revenge isn't bitter, my dear. Merely hot and best served as soon as possible. Of course, revenge makes it easy for the knights and their king..." He trailed off as though about to continue. He didn't, though. His gaze was on the children by now. His attention was caught by the fire, though. Interesting. "An unusual gift. Fitting for a queen such as yourself, though." He commented before looking at her face again. He had no real interest in her 'gift', as he'd just called it. Why would he? There were rarely fires in fairytales, instead so many witches and fairies and goblins and ghouls. Queens and kings and mirrors galore. So magical, yet so wrong. So many heroes. So many lives saved by the magical knight who rode in on his horse with no clue as to what was currently happening. So ordinary. So boring.

[Alyss Jay Blake]

Alyss smirked very faintly, tossing her head back for a momentary laugh, her blond waves of hair jerking slightly at her movement. "Any price I would be willing to pay. Be it of mind, of flesh, or of money, I care not." She looked at him, at his smile and flashed one of her own. It was no longer her happy, easy going smile, but one that was tormented, tortured, quite grim.

Her smile vanished for a moment, her dark brown eyes clouding for a moment as she imagined her mother dying in a torrent of flame. Her screams, not one name belonging to her father. And her father not coming to her rescue as he so often had. And her mother loved to dance - that made it better...But no...she would not...She would let her mother live...let that man live with her...and maybe misfortunes would befall and it would not work...and as poetic as it would be - there would be no one left for either of them... But only her tale would ever be as grim... Never her mothers...only her own....Never her brothers...only her own....

She chose to ignore his comment about the serving of revenge. Thinking that sometimes, lying in wait and striking when it was least expected would be the most poetic time of all. But...her story never had a light moment as that. Not any longer. The time to see their face when you tell them why, when they beg for the answer. When you have time to plot the most appropriate demise. A small smirk lifted the corners of her lips.

When he commented on her power, she turned her head to look at him, her brown eyes piercing, flickering darkly from the light on her fingers. She extinguished it with a flick of her wrist and laid her hand in her lap. "You do not know the half of my abilities." She whispered in a cold tone. Her gifts were her curse. "What you call a gift is a plague....fire is only one of them..." She said in a even tone.

[Michael Smith]

She laughed and he raised an eyebrow, somewhat insulted. What the heck was so funny? He hadn't been making a joke and he certainly didn't think his price was anything to laugh about. This annoyed him. Foolish girl. She probably didn't realise he was an assassin for hire... What a shame. What a very big shame. He would probably have to teach her so... Her words brought him back from the edge of planning, though. She would be willing to pay any price? Oh, the suggestions that came to mind. Everything from 'the life of someone you love' to 'that book' because Grimm's Fairytales were certainly enjoyable. But no. No. He didn't want a life. He didn't even want a book. No. They were nothing to him. Useless to him. Lives were useless play things for people like Joker and Bane. No. No. He wanted money. Things weren't cheap and every item he used had a heafty price tag joined to it.

Unfortunately, it was all about the money.

"I have no use of your mind or of flesh. If I needed either then I would certainly get them." He stated somewhat sharply, having no need to sugar-coat his words. "Money, though. What I use doesn't come cheap, and nor do my suits." He stated before sitting up a little, flattening the front of his jacket silently before pushing back his already slicked back hair into perfection. "Upwards of 200,000 dollars depending on the target." He looked at her. "If you wish to shake hands with them in hell, then I shall not disappoint in getting them there." He added, watching her reactions. A grim grin, he saw. How Joker would laugh, no doubt. The funny little court jester... How he would laugh...

The fact that she didn't comment on his words about revenge didn't bother him. This had turned into a business deal, one quite sweet as well. Sweet as the queen sat next to him. That probably wasn't too sweet, but that could be imagined. Sugar and spice were most definitely nice, but insanity and revenge was better. Indeed, she was much better than anything made of sugar and spice. They didn't go very well together, anyway... She spoke again, and Michael nodded. Of course he didn't. He'd only just met her. How could he know more than he'd just seen? Logic and reason would suggest that he didn't. It make him wonder momentarily whether she was even working with any logic or reason...

"Then let one of them be a plague of locusts and let us rid the world of the ordinary." He almost seemed to snap. "Or turn your plague into something for you. Curses are more useful for those that use them than those who cannot control them, my dear." He stated. Even Michael wasn't particularly sure what he was saying anymore, but it all worked well... "Think of those in fairytales. The Wicked Queen of Snow White, who left fate out of her own hands. That was a curse, indeed. Yet then you have Snow White, who burned her shoes and made her dance. That wasn't a curse for her, only the Queen." He added before looking around them. "And yet you choose to be plagued instead of controlling them. Perhaps you are not the queen that I thought you were. Perhaps you are nothing but a step-daughter, to have pain forced upon you because you refuse to take control..." He trailed off, looking at her again. The words he was using could be twisted, for sure, but Michael was the master of his own words and they would not strike him back.

((Notes: I don't really know what happened here...))

[Alyss Jay Blake]

Alyss Jay Blake looked at him. 200,000 wouldn't be to hard to steal from Bruce Wayne, he certainly had the money for it. They would never suspect her, not a thief of money. Maybe of cookies in another life, another time, but not now. They would not suspect her. "I can get 200,000 if you can be patient." She said calmly, her laughter of before gone. She was somewhat glad that he had not taken the offer of her flesh. She was not a slut, nor a whore, and she wasn't about to become one for the death of another.

His pause in thought about if this man thought she was crazy. It was possible, but she was not wondering about calling women one had just met queen...She was not calling him her master nor would she ever - she hoped. She looked at him, the light of fire flickering in her retinas.

Fire flashed in his eyes at his words of what she called a plague and curse. She turned, putting her book on the bench and placing her forearm against his throat. "Flaunting ones powers is not as easy as one would think." She growled, fire flickering madly in her eyes as she held him there, practically in his lap as she pinned him against the bench, her eyes flickering blue and flaming as they took on a lupine quality. She waited for him to react.

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[Michael Smith]

Her words almost floated over him. If he could be patient? He spent his life being patient. Of course he could be patient for money, though she would then have to be patient for the act. He wasn't spending money he might not get back on someone like her. Other men probably would, because appearance was everything to them, but Michael didn't care for her appearance. People had tried to get him to deal but he had removed every single one of them since then...

"Patience is a task I do well. Do you, my dear? Because I won't spend money unless I'm given it." He replied, being rather blunt with her. All parties must understand what deal they're going into, after all, and Michael wasn't going to hide behind references and dances through the hazardous words. They were so very boring; he wasn't certain that he'd stay awake through a dance.

After his comment, and her returning information, and then after his words about how she should control her plague, Michael was somewhat surprised to find her in his lap with her arm pressed against his throat. He did allow a mere flicker of a cold smile to grace his lips with almost glee. His empty eyes held none of the emotion of the twisting of his lips, though. They were orbs of the abyss, truly - sucking emotion from the rest of his features but never giving them out... A blackhole if ever there was one.

"Flirting's over?" He asked, sounding somewhat unhappy after she'd spoken. What did he care about how easy it was? Words could be formed and twisted for use, not for truth. Not always for the truth, at any rate, and Michael would not refrain from using words to get to his goal. "Now we're seeing each other's true faces and it's like looking in a mirror." He said quite calmly while holding her arm gently, almost as if he were ready to pull her away from his throat. "You wanted to deal, so we're dealing. You can't control yourself? Then that is your problem and not mine." He snarled harshly. "I care very little for your problems, dear fairy." He noticed her eyes changing and a cold, cruel smirk took place of the emotionless smile. "Or maybe you're not the fairy but a wolf. The Big Bad Wolf who isn't so big nor bad." He pulled a face of disappointed uncertainty. "I must admit that I find myself... Disappointed." He told her before moving to slip a hand around her throat and looking somewhat bored, his expression having dropped. "Remove your hand from my throat or I will end you, you pathetic little mutt." He told her, his words piercingly venomous. "I will cut open your stomach and fill it with stones. Look it up, dear Wolf, it's what happened to the wolf who dared to mess with Little Red-Cap." He told her, talking about the Grimm version of Little Red Riding Hood. His eyes looked into hers without a flicker of fear disrupting the darkness. If he was afraid of wolves then he needed to quit his job, after all...

[Alyss Jay Blake]

She snorted in disgust at his words. Of course she would be patient. That was the point in all of this. She preferred to lie in wait. "I'll wait as long as it takes." She snarled, wolfish in nature. She did not expect him to play around. No one granted favors any longer. It was only give less than you could get.

She growled from her position in his lap, her arm still pressed tight against his throat. She did not flinch when his hand moved from her arm to around her throat. She showed no sign of fear in her eyes. She bared her teeth in a snarl when he called her a fairy."I'm big enough and bad enough to shift right now and tare your throat out. I''ll burn the body." She snarled darkly. Her eyes flickered back to brown, and she let fire burn along her arm as she pulled it off his neck, keeping herself pinning him still. "I am not afraid of you." She spat, still close to him, her eyes hard as rocks.

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[Michael Smith]

Her face made him wonder what was so wrong about the current situation. She'd asked about his patience and he was returning the question. It really wasn't something to dislike. Perhaps she would have liked a please. No, that was a terribly bad joke.

"Excellent. Shall we discuss how you'll pay or would you like to continue this backwards and forwards of torturous, aimless words?" He questioned, seemingly rather bored. He was quite bored, to be perfectly honest. She may have been unusual but that didn't stop him from being bored. It was unfortunate he hadn't gotten to sarcasm yet, really.

And then, of course, the events that caused his constant talking came and stayed. If she was trying to scare him then she really was failing. He had a strange gift where he just wasn't afraid of being threatened. He'd survived this long because of both his lack of fear and his brains. He knew ways she probably couldn't even dream of to murder someone.

"That's rather classless." He commented casually. "But I'm absolutely shaking." He added with sarcasm dripping from his words. "No, really, I'm terrified." He continued, rolling his eyes obviously. He looked her in the eye now and shook his head almost mournfully. "You're ordinary... You're so ordinary." He told her, once again sounding disappointed in her.

She spoke again and Michael smiled. "I'm not trying to scare you, dear Wolf." He told her, his voice rather low. "I have no use for your fear and you have little use for mine, I suspect. Now, shall we discuss your payment or shall we do something that would likely get us arrested?" He asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow. "I, personally, don't mind, though the children might be traumatised." He stated, once more being rather casual and uncharacteristically cheerful about the whole situation. Why wouldn't he be? It was beautiful day and he was being threatened by someone who turned into a wolf...

Wonderful day to be cheerful...

[Alyss Jay Blake]

Alyss looked at him, her brown eyes blazing still. His words aggravated her more and more. "I''m debating weather or not I still require your services. I can easily make it look like a dog attack." She snarled at him, shifting so her wright was on his groin to make him uncomfortable. She cared nothing for this man at the moment.

Her anger grew at his sarcasm. "Perhaps you should shake a little harder." She snarled as her teeth began to grow longer as she was losing control. She had only ever lost control once. At being called ordinary, it was a shock, only ever being called a freak in her time. It was different. She did not falter at it however.

She snarled a bit more, her eyes flickering into the ice blue of her wolf's. She looked into his eyes, a strange sensation flooding her veins. "I am not trying to scare you either." She said calmly. Looking at him, several things went through her mind of what he had meant, but decided not to question. "I know something that will scar them even more." She snarled, fighting off the wolf that was trying to surface within her.

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[Michael Smith]

She was getting angrier. He could almost feel it radiating off of her in waves of delicious, brilliant rage. She was debating? Well, that was most certainly a shame.

"Maybe you should stop debating with yourself and decide." Michael suggested calmly, not at all fazed by the angry woman in his lap. Why would he be? Granted, it was somewhat uncomfortable, though most things involving ordinary people were uncomfortable for Michael. At her comment, Michael let slip a rare, but highly amused, laugh.

"That would certainly be awkward, my dear." He replied. "Friction would cause a reaction, though maybe not the one we really want." He continued with what could absolutely be a smug smile on his lips. "Though that reaction could absolutely be arranged. You don't seem like the kind of girl, though, and I'm certainly not that kind of guy."

As she told him that she wasn't trying to scare him either, Michael laughed again. Oh, she was funny. Joker would certainly approve of such a bad joke.

"And yet you just told me to shake a little harder. Perhaps you should decide what you really want before making your way in the world of deals. If you don't know what you want then you're merely wasting people's time." He responded with a small hint of interest being held in his features. Why wouldn't he be? Someone who couldn't decide what they wanted? It was beautiful. It was amazing. It was so ordinary that it was brilliant.

She spoke once more and Michael laughed. Of course she would. He did, too, though he didn't think it was a good idea to mention it.

"But not half as much fun." He stated, a small, wryly smile playing on his lips. "And we both like to have fun. Now, do you require my services or are you going to show off what a mutt you are?"

[Alyss Jay Blake]

Alyss snarled and looked at him. Her whole body twitched as she tried to keep control. She gave him no answer to his question, focusing on not losing control, but she was losing her battle. She felt her skeletal system starting to change. It was painful as her bones began to rearrange.

His comment about friction made her growl, more wolf than human as she was still fighting the shift. Her hand slammed against his chest, harder than she had intended at his laugh - her control was gone, now it was merely delaying the inevitable. "I am not that kind of girl." She snarled, her voice heightened into a yelp as she fell from his lap.

She didn't know what she wanted. Did she want her mother dead? No...Yes....No....Yes....No...? She yelped in pain as she convulsed on the sidewalk, trying to stop her shift as she began to change father. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of seeing her lose control. She knew she could still talk with him after she shifted, and figured that would be something.

Her body convulsed violently as she kept fighting it. She wanted to kill something...there was this man...and kids not to far away... No...She would not lose that control as she had lost control on her human body. A twisted and nearly silent scream tore itself from her lips as she shifted on the ground, her body changing until a white wolf lay shaking on the sidewalk. Her eyes snapped open, ice blue and deadly as she hauled herself to her feet, glaring at him. She was furious he had forced her into a shift...

[Michael Smith]

Her attempts at keeping control entertained him immensely despite the fact that he had aboslutely no idea what her problem was. Of course, he understood her problem with his words. He was being rather... Obvious with what he meant and it probably could annoy or irritate anyone... What she was fighting became more obvious the longer she fought, though. A change. The lupin-esque eyes? The growling? It was so obvious... But not ordinary. That was fortunate. Things were beginning to get a bit boring with all the ordinary things that had been happening and the torturous back and forth of words...

The snarl made him nod. Of course she wasn't. He had just said that and he was rarely wrong. As she yelped, though, Michael raised an eyebrow and watched her fall from his lap. Well, that was unexpected but not unwelcome. He busied himself with straightening his suit jacket while she did whatever she was doing on the floor. In all honesty, he wasn't really paying too much attention to her. He did as she changed, though. Oh yes, he paid attention as the blonde turned into a wolf. Such a pretty little thing hiding such a dangerous and deadly form. Oh, Michael could have sung. He sat quite calmly, though, and watched her as she got to her feet.

"I suppose this is your true face?" He asked, seemingly rather bored. Wolves weren't his speciality but he was as interested as anyone who had noticed and wasn't terrified was... He ran a hand over his hair, slicking back any of it that had fallen out of place with casual pride. Why wouldn't he? There had almost been a business deal and now he was talking to a wolf. Perfect time to be proud of oneself. "Such a shame you keep it hidden. It would certainly get you fear and that's one step away from respect." He commented, moving to click his neck gently, not using his hands. In fact, they were in his lap now, having fallen from her throat when she'd moved from his lap.

"I'll also suppose you're going to blame me for all of this, too?" He questioned, not knowing nor caring about whether or not she could answer him. Why would he? Her answers meant nothing to him, really. She would either deny it or tell him that it was all his fault and he had little interest in either answer...