She had been to the ruins before, this time for a much similar to the last. There was a soft pounding in her head, running right down the middle of her skull, not enough for her to really acknowledge the pain but enough for it to be a minor nuisance. She had smelled something… she had smelled the blood, however faint it had been, which had resulted in her predator instincts telling her to follow. Things would have been so much easier if she could see, of course, but until her sight returned to her she would have to get over it.

A soft sigh came forth from her nostrils and she lifted her arms up to her head, lightly rubbing her temples before removing the bloodied cloth that covered her eyes. Her eyes clenched shut and she grimaced, the once radiant light of the moon causing them to ache slightly because of their temporary extreme sensitivity. Normally Cordelia wouldn’t have removed the cloth under any circumstance, too embarrassed by the new weakness to actually show it. She bent over slightly before quickly tying the thick, black, and somewhat bloodied cloth back around her eyes and standing back up to her full height.

She pulled her maroon coat tighter to her, grunting indignantly when whatever scent of blood there had been faded away. Cordelia glanced around, not like it even really did much good, and started to walk off. Of course, at that moment, her foot caught on a piece of rock protruding from the ground and she fell forward with a high pitched yelp, which was certainly unlike her. Her hands dashed forehead to lighten the fall and succeeded in doing so, though a few scrapes were caused because of it. Dark, thick blood began to ooze out and she sighed once again, wiping it on her pants and sitting cross legged on the ground for the time being.

“Stupid rock!” she exclaimed finally in anger, stretching out a single leg to kick whatever was in reach of it to physically relieve her frustration.

A soft voice issued from behind her, sounding warm and concerned on the surface, but for someone such as Cordelia, it was easy to hear the falseness and the insulting tone underneath. "Awww, did the little vampire girlie stub her toe? I'm sorry." The speaker was obviously as dark and heartless as Cordelia herself, if not more. He reached down, and his voice had begun to lose its warmth and softness. "Take my hand, girl. No need to lie down." Yaksha himself would never admit it, but the 'rock' she had tripped over had been a small uprising of earth, caused by his own powers.

He leaned forward, his hand grasping lightly on Cordelia's wrist, so she could tell where it was. The hand was thin and bony, but as long as she didn't a chance to feel his legs, there was no reason for her to guess what he was. The scent of blood and gore was fresh on him, no big surprise since he had just slain a bear out of sport. Several gashes were furrowed into his chest, but it was already slowly scabbing over, thanks to his healing magic. "Name's Yaksha. So, dearie. What are you doing out here?"

"Awww, did the little vampire girlie stub her toe? I'm sorry."

A loud, almost feline like hiss sounded and Cordelia whirled her head around in the direction of the voice. “Shut the hell up,” she snapped. The voice sounded sweet on the outside, but she knew better – she had used that same, condescending tone on other people and she wouldn’t take it for herself. No one used that sort of voice with her, no one treated her like that! She growled when he told her to take his hand, not needing any time to make the decision that she wouldn’t do it.

When he grasped her wrist, she snatched it back, growling once again. She wiped her wrist off with her other hand, acting as if he had given her some sort of disease. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway if he did carry a disease, considering there was no way she could catch it. Vampires couldn’t get diseases that normal folk did. “Don’t you dare touch me,” she warned in a low, threatening and venomous tone of voice. “I’ll rip you apart.” Her fangs showed then when she spoke, warning him. He reeked of blood and it wouldn’t take much to prompt her, however animalistic or primitive that sounded.

"Name's Yaksha. So, dearie. What are you doing out here?"

Cordelia pressed her hands to the ground and bent her knees, pushing herself up with ease. She delayed answering his question, standing there to her full height merely to prove that she was capable of standing up without any help and could take care of herself. She had been taking care of herself for years now and in her opinion, she was doing and outstanding job. “It’s not dearie. It’s Cordelia. Let’s get that straight.” She stared in the direction his voice came from, unsure if he was still there or not. “As for why I’m out here, I could ask the same of you, couldn’t I? I wasn’t aware that so many people came to the ruins at night. So you better start talking… Yaksha.” Her nose wrinkled when she said his name, unsure if she liked the sound of it or not. It was different, though, that was for sure.

Yaksha merely stood, smiling in the way Jesus must have when being persecuted. A look of endless patience, and even a touch of pity was plastered on his face, but his eyes were dark and pitiless. “I’ll rip you apart.” He raised an eyebrow, but his voice had lost its dark tone, turning instead into a polished and gentlemanly tone. "No need for that, Cordelia. I merely want to talk." He took a step forward, his own hand gently touching hers. The skin had fleshed out, becoming less scrawny and more muscled. "I'm sorry for patronizing you, just a bad habit."

He stood silently for a moment, then shrugged; Cordelia wouldn't see it, but she could probably hear the soft rustle of his clothes. "I was out here for a little fun. The towns aren't all that entertaining. And in case you're wondering, the blood you smell isn't mine. I killed a bear, but it wasn't easy. The thing didn't go down easy." He stepped past her, and as he did, an aura of darkness and spite washed off of Yaksha, as if he sweat evil itself.

He laughed, a dry, mirthless chuckle. "Yeah, it's an odd name, I admit. But, it's apt." He spoke loudly and carefully, to mask his true goal. He silently made his way behind her, his voice losing all sophistication on his next words, and turning into a monster's voice, hoarse and thick of malice. "Living in the modern age,
death for virtue is the wage.
So it seems in darker hours.
Evil wins, kindness cowers." He stepped back, ducking low before she could do a thing, his voice still dark and malicious. All pretense of being a kind person had dropped; he was laying it all out for Cordelia to see. "So, Cordelia. I take it you don't like being blind?" He laughed hollowly. "What would you do if I said I could give you your sight back?"

"No need for that, Cordelia. I merely want to talk."

“Then start talking,” she spat, losing her patience. Cordelia wasn’t a very patient woman to begin with and people like this annoyed her to no end. If he wanted to talk, then he should have started doing that and he should have gotten to the point. She didn’t care what he wanted to do; the only thing that mattered was what he did do. When his hand brushed against hers she growled again, thrusting her hands into the pockets of her pants. He then went on to apologize for being patronizing, which only made her want to leave.

She merely ignored what he said about his reasons for being there. It really didn’t matter, nor did the fact that the blood wasn’t his but instead that of an animal. “You’re wasting my time with your talk,” she told him. If he didn’t get to the point – if he even had one to start with – then she was out of there and she didn’t care who he was or what he wanted or what he planned to do.

His voice sounded behind her in her ear, causing her to whirl around so that she wasn’t in such a bad position. She stared at him, eyebrows rising behind the cloth because of how odd he was. Cordelia wasn’t one for poems, hardly being a poetic woman herself. He was still wasting her time and she was about to take a step backward to leave when he mentioned her being blind.

At that, she paused, curling in her lower lip and biting it gently. She didn’t exactly trust that, considering many people said things and then did the opposite. She was one of those people. Maybe it was hypocrisy, or maybe it was just good old fashion lying, but either way what he said did interest her. “What would I do?” she repeated, snorting lightly. “I’d stand here and ask why it matters to you and ask what the catch is.” She removed her hands from her pockets, folding her arms over her chest and staring once again.

“I’d stand here and ask why it matters to you and ask what the catch is.” Yaksha shook his head, and sighed. "How sad. You think there has to be a catch to everything. Who says I won't just fix it because I WANT to? Because we're so alike, even if you do hate me?" He leaned forward, and spoke softly. "Me and you are two of a kind, Cordelia. Deny it all you like, but I see myself in you...." He bowed, and his hand slid out of his sleeve, to grasp hers in a firm handshake. "To the fall of Manic."

"How sad. You think there has to be a catch to everything. Who says I won't just fix it because I WANT to? Because we're so alike, even if you do hate me?"

At that, Cordelia threw her head back and laughed, a nasal, low, and condescending sound that she couldn’t help. The laugh lasted for a good minute or so, only getting louder by the moment. Once she had calmed down a smirk remained on her lips, and one last hum of a laugh emitted from her throat. “People don’t help others just because they want to. There’s always something they want, always something that has to be given in return. I’m not naïve. Besides, who said I wanted the help? I was merely inquiring after you said something.” Her tone was unwavering as she lectured him, treating him like a child who knew absolutely nothing about how things worked. That was how she was beginning to see him, really – he didn’t know anything and he had no right to say that they were alike when they had been speaking for a short while.

She could feel him come forward and she took a step away and arched her back away from him, hissing again. “I like my space,” she informed him. She didn’t like anyone invading her personal bubble, as she liked to call it. People could only touch her or get close to her if she wanted them to and she certainly did not want Yaksha close to her. Only a handful of people were allowed to and she wasn’t about to make that number larger.

"Me and you are two of a kind, Cordelia. Deny it all you like, but I see myself in you...."

“No, not really. I don’t know what you claim to see, but you don’t know me well enough to judge me.” Judgment was another thing that annoyed her. All of the people that compared themselves to her wound up being absolutely nothing like her; in the end, Cordelia had wound up being better than all of them. “But I know for a fact that I’m better than you, which I’m sure you saw as well.” Maybe it was arrogant, but that was how she always acted.

"To the fall of Manic."

Her eyebrows rose and she kept her arms over her chest, unable to see the outstretched hand. Even if she had seen it, she wouldn’t have taken it. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” she said dryly. She wasn’t going to go crazy and ask how he knew the man; Manic had threatened Kaiden should she try to do anything against him and she wasn’t going to put the child at risk. She took another step back, her jaw clenching. She wanted the fall of Manic more than anyone else, but she wasn’t about to sacrifice the safety of her adopted son for her own wants.

"Lying brings nothing but misery, Cordelia. Manic will kill Kaiden out of sheer sadism one day, surely even you have to be able to forsee that he'll break such a small promise. All I'm offering is that you bring down the one who took your sight from you before he takes something more important." He waved a hand over her eyes, and her vision returned, if somewhat hazy. "A gift. 'Tis only right that you see the one you're speaking to before you make any commitment." He sighed, and then shrugged. "I'd like to think we're friends, Cordelia. And friends do favors for each other, don't they?"

"Lying brings nothing but misery, Cordelia. Manic will kill Kaiden out of sheer sadism one day, surely even you have to be able to forsee that he'll break such a small promise. All I'm offering is that you bring down the one who took your sight from you before he takes something more important."

Oh, great. She had her own personal stalker now! “What the hell?!” she finally screamed out of both frustration and confusion. “No, no, I don’t even want to know,” she followed up with, her chest beginning to heave as she breathed and her arms falling back down to her sides. All she knew was that the fact that he knew about that was scary and she didn’t like it one bit. She knew Manic was a man of his word, though; maybe he was a terrible, violent man but he kept his word. If she didn’t do anything to upset him, then he wouldn’t hurt Kaiden, and she firmly believed that. Words from a stranger wouldn’t change what she already knew.

At that moment she felt magic course through her and the flesh beneath the cloth began to pulsate. She cursed and wrinkled her face at the momentary pain before it slowly went away. Her sight began to return bit by bit, hazy beneath the cloth and even more blurred because the heal spell hadn’t entirely worked. She reached up hesitantly and removed the cloth, her eyes narrowing when everything hit her. The light no longer hurt as much, the stinging now finally bearable. She felt dizzy from how blurry everything was and closed her eyes before opening them again after a moment. Her sight had returned… it was actually back, despite the fact that it wasn’t as sharp as it used to be.

"I'd like to think we're friends, Cordelia. And friends do favors for each other, don't they?"

Finally she looked at him, eyes narrowing again as she studied him. From what blurry shapes she could see, he didn’t look that attractive and looked demonic, too. “Well that’s just great,” she muttered to herself. Of course she always got stuck with either the crazy ones or the ugly ones, sometimes two in one. “I’d hardly call us friends… so now what do you want, huh? Since according to you, friends do ‘favors’ for each other. You probably won’t get it but it would be nice to know what you’ve had up your sleeve anyway.” She tilted her head slightly, her short black hair falling over her face a little bit. She made no move to push it out of the way, though; she hadn’t seen anything in so long that even seeing her hair was a big deal to her.

Yaksha tilted his head, and shrugged. After a second, his body seemed almost to transform, and before her stood a man with a rather nice tophat, and a cane. His clothes were perfectly ironed, and he had a warm smile on his face. "Nothing, for now. All I want is a promise that I can rely on you, when the time comes that I do need you for something." His voice had once more turned sophisticated and kind. "Cordelia, you may deny it all you like, but we have more in common than you think." He turned on his heel, and began to walk off slowly, making sure to take the time to listen to her response.

"Nothing, for now. All I want is a promise that I can rely on you, when the time comes that I do need you for something."

Cordelia snorted loudly. “Sorry, not promising,” she said in a sickly sweet, fake apologetic tone. She only promised something when she knew she intended on and being able to keep it. He was so strange, thinking he could just waltz over to her and pretend that they were friends, that they were alike, and that he could heal her and she would help him if he needed it. She didn’t consider herself in debt to him; he had done it because he thought he was doing her a favor. Her blindness would have healed in time, of its own will – if he thought he wanted to help the process along, then she wouldn’t object. Usually she hated being helped, but she had been blind for long enough; it was time to end it. “I don’t make promises to people I don’t know or care about, you see. It’s not very logical. And what the hell is the problem with your voice?” She sighed and looked up the sky. “Why? Why is it always me that gets stuck with the crazies?” She put her hands on her hips then and rolled her eyes before looking back to Yaksha.

"Cordelia, you may deny it all you like, but we have more in common than you think."

“Still you insist upon that? You’re like a stubborn little brat who doesn’t get what he wants. Goodness, get over it.” Cordelia rolled her eyes once again, sucking on her teeth. She heard him walking away and could see just the outline of his movement as well. Finally! Now, with any luck he wouldn’t turn around to continue conversation for her. “Yes, yes, be on your merry way. I’m too much to handle, you’re not the first to walk away because of my amazing presence.” A soft, hum of a laugh came out of her and she smirked in satisfaction.