Riot (OPEN)

The bar was a twitter with joy as the radio blared the ending of the rugby match. Even as a wizard, Alise had loved rugby games, so she had traveled down it this dirty old bar to sit around and listen to the results. And to be hit on, of course.

Then an argument a rose outside. Her judgement clouded, the witch walked out to see what was happening. Two rather large men were growling and pushing, fighting over some "hockey" team. Merlin, she could smell the alcohol on them from 2 meters away.

"Hey, guys," she walked over and grabbed one's arm, "Let's not be-" She was interrupted by a cloud of blackness and a sickening wet crack.

The man pulled him arm back in a punch and his elbow found her nose. Alise straggered back, hand on the wound. She blinked twice, then toppled over, tasting blood pouring into her mouth. Why was everything so fuzzy?

OOC: I was gonna let someone else reply... I was, but...


"A pleasure as always, dealing with you," the man told Sacha.

Sacha inclined his head. "As always," he returned. "Do tell your employer I shall be in touch soon."

"It still bothers her, you know," the man said. "That she does not know your name."

Sacha gave a small smirk, then left, strolling away down the sidewalk. He was simply enjoying the evening air, idly taking in his surroundings. He'd been here before, of course, multiple times. The man was unsurprised that there appeared to be a brawl breaking out in front of one the local taverns.

His gaze swept the scene, and then he paused. Then, he was striding across the street. He caught Alise as she fell, lowering her gently to the ground. He'd tend to her in a mere moment, but first...

He grabbed the man who'd just elbowed her in the face, swinging him round by the arm before shoving him into the other men involved, knocking several of them over like bowling pins.

The way sufficiently cleared of bodies, Sacha lifted Alise in his arms and departed towards the nearest alley. He'd apparate somewhere safe and tend to her injury.

Alise braced herself, ready for the concrete to tear up her skin,

But, it never came. She forced her eyes open at the feel of hands and watched her latest one night stand beat the crap out of the two men. She took her bloodied hand from her face and reached for his as she was picked up, smearing his shirt.

"H-hey, handsome," she greeted, tilting her head back to stop the world from spinning. She could feel the blood from her broken nose pouring down her throat, but she ignored it, "Am I dead? That'd be sweet,"

Sach glanced down at the woman. "Hey, yourself," he said softly. "And I'm quite certain you're not dead. Sorry to disappoint.

He stepped into the next alley, gaze quickly assessing their surroundings before he turned, apparating them to the townhouse. The lights lit at his silent command as he crossed the room, settling her down on the sofa.

"Wait here," he instructed. Leaving the room for a moment, he soon returned with a bowl of warm water and a wash cloth as well as a first aid kit - the wizard version, of course.

Murmuring the spell to heal her broken nose, he then offered her a pain potion, even as he wrung out the wash cloth with one hand.

Alise lay to the couch in a pool of self pity. Merlin, her brain hurt; Was that supposed to hurt? She was told to wait there, but she ignored the man, sitting up away way.

"You make a good nurse, Sacha," she murmured at his return. Half of her was convinced this was a dream caused by her blacking out, but the other half was just happy to see him.

She reached for the potion, throwing it back faster than a shot. She mumbled a thank you, grateful magic could help her nose to not swell up into an ugly mess.

"I'm all bloody," she noted, trying to make light of the situation, "If I had some leather, I could model for an S&M magazine,"

Taking the empty vial, he set it on the coffee table. "I've had a bit of practice," Sacha replied. With the cloth, he gently set to cleaning the blood away.

"Hmm..." he said musingly. "I shall have to disagree. You look much classier than that. Perhaps a lingerie magazine?" The man pulled out his wand, silently lighting the tip with a pinpoint of light. Testing the dilation of her eyes, and satisfied with the result, he put it away again.

"How do you feel?" Sacha queried, grey eyes focused on her intently.

Alise snorted, glaring into the light of the wand. She scrunched her nose slightly. "I'm not classy," she said quietly, "And I'm not skinny enough for a lingerie shoot anyway. "

She leaned back on the couch, sniffing. "Dizzy. A bit tired too," she answered, uncaring, "Why were you in the muggle town anyway? Trying to find some other young girl?"

Sacha chuckled. "I didn't say you were classy," he pointed out mildly, a teasing lilt to his tone. "I said you looked classy." The man ran a knuckle down the side of her face. "And believe when I say you look perfect, just as you are."

Setting the wash cloth aside, he gave a slight shrug.

"I had a meeting with a business associate," he answered truthfully. He smirked in amusement. "Is that really how you see me?" Truth be told, Sacha generally went for women closer to his own age. He wasn't about to argue that with her, however. It hardly mattered how she saw him, after all. Seeing her again was sheer coincidence.

Gathering up the supplies he'd brought with him, he got up and went to put them away. He returned from the kitchen with a bottle of water, which he set on the table close to her.

"I was going to make some food, if you're interested," Sacha offered. "I'm not a chef, but I'm not a terrible cook, either, I wouldn't say.

Alise leaned into his hand, giving a teasing grin back. "I'm far from perfect," she insisted, sitting up.

She paused, then shrugged a shoulder. Scratching her nose, she said, "I don't know how I see you. You're sort of a mystery to me." She sat up again, leaning on her elbows, "You're different than most guys I stay with, so I like to imagine you have some odd fetish or emotional problem, seeing as you're pretty rich and all,"

She took the water and quickly took a drink to stop her spinning head. When it didn't subside, she nodded, "If it's not a bother," she paused, remembering his name, "Thanks, Sacha,"

"I'm certain I have at least one fetish or emotional problem," Sacha agreed easily. In fact, many had accused him of being emotionally detached. It was possible; Sacha didn't really think on it that much.

"Not at all. Though... are you certain it isn't 'Sam'?" the man teased. He disappeared into the kitchen, putting together a simply meat and vegetable stew. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was palatable.

He returned to the parlor with two bowls of it, offering one to Alise before taking a seat in a chair.

Alise raised an eyebrow, mimicking his signature interested look. "I hope it's the latter, " she nodded, "Fetishes scare the crap outta me."

She watched him leave, hooking her arm over the side of the couch as he drank. "In my defense, you look like a Sam. You have that..." she gestured in her lack of words, "Je ne sais pas, I think."

She took the stew, nodding a thank you. "Looks good." she spooned up a mouthful, smiling. Merlin, it had been years since someone else had made her a meal. It felt... like home, really.

"If I had known you'd made me dinner, I would have brought some chocolates or dessert or cognac or something," she paused, trying to remember what was taboo around here, "I'll send you a thank you gift,"

Sacha took her smile to mean that the food was acceptable, calmly consuming his own portion.

"It's quite alright," he replied. "No thanks necessary." He returned her smile. "Though, I do believe there is some chocolate in the pantry."

The man finished his stew, setting the empty dish on the edge of the coffee table, his gaze study the fire in the grate. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure what the protocol for going forward would be. He hadn't actually come to the aid of a one-night stand before.

Gray eyes turned to Alise, studying her quietly. Well, he certainly couldn't turn her out; he wasn't entirely convinced she was sober enough to be wandering about. No reason she couldn't spend the night in the spare bedroom, Sacha supposed, though perhaps she would prefer to go home?

"Is... there anywhere you need to be?" Sacha inquired. "I could take you there, if you desire. Otherwise, you're welcome to remain here again."

Alise took another bite of her stew, slowly pushing what was left around in her bowl. She wasn't really hungry, but it was impolite to refuse food, so she took it anyway.

"This is sorta awkward," she admitted, "I don't really met with guys anymore,"

She could feel him watching her as she ate, but she remained silent. It was the same quiet, judging silence she had felt with Freddy, and that made her sort of sick. Placing the bowl on the table, she stood up.

"I guess I should go home," she sighed, "I got stuff to do anyway,"

Sacha also stood, inclining his head. "I will take you," he said. Waving a hand, the bowls disappeared to the the kitchen.

"How would you like to get there? I could apparate you, or the floo is functional, if you'd like."

Alise grabbed his arms, giving a soft shrug.

"I can apparate too, you know," she huffed, though making no move to actually do so, "I don't have a fireplace anyway, "

She paused to yawn, "The address is Apartment 32B in the Windoff Building,"

Sacha gave her a soft smile. "I don't doubt that you can," he assured her. "I just wish to make sure you arrive there safely."

Taking a moment to secure the address in his mind. Holding her firmly, he turned, apparating them to her apartment in the next instant.

Alise suddenly faced the familiar sounds and smells of home: The mumbles of Czech and Russian slang being shouted across the street, the old bakery items in the dumpster, and the slight smell of turnips that never really disappeared. The sights of the apartment complex were too good either. The door to her second floor apartment was cracked and the lock itself didn't even close all the way.

"Come in; I'll get you a glass of wine if I have it," she opened the door, not even bothering with a key. The apartment itself was relatively nice expect for the strange brown mold growing on the off white ceiling. She wordlessly pulled out her wand and flicked it towards the unfolded clothes in the corner of the kitchen-living room.

"Sorry, it's not too big- only three rooms,"

Sacha silently took in their surroundings, expression inscrutable. He followed her into the apartment, gaze sweeping its interior. There was nothing wrong with it being small. She lived alone, after all. (Or appeared to, in any case.)

It was just everything else that was wrong with it.

"You live here?" he asked, tone revealing nothing of his feelings on the matter. The man walked to the window and looked out, unsurprised when he identified just where it was that she lived. It wasn't a good corner of town; not even close.

"Ignore the mess, please," Alise waved a hand to the stack of paperwork and random objects, "I had a break in and I have to check for missing objects and such,"

She walked by him, nodding. "Yup. I've lived in this area for most of my life, actually," She patted his rear playfully, walking to the kitchen.

She opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of cheap wine and two glasses. "Here, come, drink," she commanded, pointing to a chair.

Sacha turned his attention from the window as she patted his posterior, gaze following her across the room. At her behest, he took the indicated chair.

"You know," he remarked, almost casually, "this isn't the safest neighborhood to live in. Particularly if you've already had a break in."

Alise rolled her eyes, pouring a large glass and pushing it his direction. It was cheap wine, but better than nothing.

"No, really?" she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She poured a smaller glass for herself, not really in the mood to drink, "It's not like I like living here, you know,"

She sat across from him, draping an arm around the back of her chair. She shouldn't be drinking, she knew. She had already gained ten pounds since the last time she had modeled.

"I have a lot of bill that don't pay for themselves," she shrugged, "I'm used to it anyway. "

Sacha accepted the glass graciously, talking a meditative sip. He regarded her seriously for a moment.

"If you'd like, you may stay in my townhouse," the man offered off-handedly. "It is empty most of the time. Better that it be put to use, really. I'd been meaning to get a tenant or two."

Alise took a long sip of her wine before placing it on the counter and meeting his eyes with a fiery gray gaze.

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked, "You obviously understand I couldn't pay you rent on a place like that. But, you already knew that, didn't you?" She turned to look outside the window. It was almost midnight, but the town was still as active as ever.

"What do you want from me? My body? Are you some creep that wants to kill me?" she picked up her glass again, "Or am I just your charity case of the month, hm?"

Sacha put the glass down with more force than strictly necessary, but otherwise appeared as serene as ever.

"Considering the fact I own the entire block, I don't need to collect rent 'on a place like that,'" he replied. He rose from his chair, moving to stand at her shoulder. Leaning forward slightly, he spoke quietly in her ear.

"If you must know, I was raised to believe that women ought to be treated with a certain amount of dignity." A very faint bite did enter his tone at this point. "Call it what you like, but I certainly wouldn't require anything of you. I neither need, nor desire, your gratitude."

Stepping away, he brushed himself off. "I think I shall take my leave, now," Sacha declared. "I should hate for you to continue coming to the wrong conclusions about me." He started briskly towards the door.

Alise flinched when he placed the glass down, half expecting a punch to come her way. She placed her glass down passively, letting him speak. She was used to people yelling at her by now, but it didn't mean it still didn't hurt.

"And I was taught that men should take care of me my whole life," she pointed to the stack of bills, "See where the hell it left me?"

She watched him walk out and she reached for her glass again, working up the courage to speak.

"The offers still open, right?"