Nadia Ives

“Marigold.” The name rolled off his tongue easily, one that was familiar as she had become a close friend, but strange with this added layer on top. Because yes - while divorce was an option, calling off the wedding with a mutual parting - they couldn’t just go back to what they’d once been. At least, Forest doubted he could. “She’s actually uh…probably one of your biggest fans. I’d like to introduce you…both so she can fan girl over you and because…” he hesitates before continuing on, “because if this is something that’s going to stick, I want you to know her. I want her to know you.” 

It had never been about keeping Nadia out of his life. He wanted her in it more than anything. It had only ever been about keeping her safe, keeping her from getting sucked into the world of the fey, too. But he’d made her a target to the Unseelie the moment he signed his name for the Seelie, and he’d pushed her closer to them the more he tried to keep her away. He just had to hope that Nadia could fend for herself at this point - because he couldn’t keep her safe. 

At her question he heaved a breath before his shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “Yes, no more secrets.” 

Marigold. She repeated the name in her mind but it didn’t conjure up an image of a person, just an orange-y yellow flower. The fact that her new sister-in-law was a fan did help soften her attitude just a bit, but Nadia still felt wary. “Do you want it to stick?” she asked. 

He’d said he wasn’t sure what to do but in her mind it felt pretty obvious -- if she’d been tricked into getting married she didn’t think it’d matter who her husband was, she’d want to end it. Oh, sure, she joked about wanting to marry Chris Hemsworth’s arms or some other celebrity for their looks and fame, but it wasn’t real. Nadia did want to meet Marigold, though. She wanted to meet anyone who might be able to provide more insight into what the hell was going on.  

No more secrets. Did he mean it? Please mean it. Part of her wanted to drop the glamour, to show him why she hadn’t backed down, why she refused to stay away from people he cautioned her against but she wanted him to go first. Selfish? Perhaps. But Nadia thought it more along the lines of self preservation. “Okay, no more secrets.” She stared expectantly, waiting for him to give her some honesty. 

He laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t necessarily go with the word accosted, but sure.”

Buying names and guest lists… sounds… yup—cultish. He winced again, though mildly. “Oh goody. Does this mean I am now going to be a name on some list they’re going to sell around? Am I going to start getting hail satan shit in my mailbox?” 

Honestly, he was usually so busy with school and his own, you know, normal life, that he didn’t pay much attention to the various groups and events and communities within the city—underground and otherwise. But he was aware there were plenty. Sometimes, he purposely turned a blind eye—too exhausted or perhaps apathetic to inquire for more information. He had his priorities—and cults and new age religions weren’t among them. 

“Your brother? What do you mean? What about him?”

Nadia grinned and shook her head, patting his arm reassuringly. “No no, nothing like that. Just invitations to hail satan next Saturday at an obscure Irish bookstore,” she teased. She hadn’t actually seen anything remotely satanic at the first event, just odd and a bit new age-y. More than likely Benji wouldn’t return to an event like this -- it didn’t strike her as his style. 

It had probably been a mistake to mention her brother but it was almost a relief to talk to someone who didn’t know either Forest or Kevin. Nadia shrugged, acting as though it wasn’t important, and answered, “He got mixed up in some pagan stuff...Got in over his head, I think, and ended up disappearing for a while. Missed some really important family stuff. I’m just trying to understand the draw, you know?” 

Malachite often spent nights out in the Rookery, basking in the clientele. He was always excellent at making friends, rooting out prospective new clients, pointing them at his Runners. Every now and then, he dabbled in some experimentation, though only with the regulars–the fey who knew him well. He was always careful not to tax his friendships or cross the line with his talents. He couldn’t risk another slip or a coma.

Tonight, though, he was trapped in the Back Room. Forced to go over numbers, papers, ideas. Racking his brain for creativity when inspiration wasn’t coming to him. It was difficult to stay in a positive mental space, especially when his work space was being interrupted by Runners. Of course he assumed the person rapping on his door was a fey–who else would bother to interrupt him? “It’s open,” Malachite called irritably from Gale’s chair at the desk.

Nadia took that as an invitation and pushed open the door, striding inside and letting it close behind her. The room wasn’t exactly what she was expecting. She’d pictured something closer to a mad scientist’s lair than an accountant’s office and was mildly disappointed. Regardless, she had a mission and by god this man was going to explain himself. 

“Sorry for intruding,” she lied, “But I’m looking for Frost’s boss. Is that you? I feel I’ve been more than patient and accommodating, but certain promises were made and I expect them to be kept. Since she is not capable of doing that I thought it better to speak to someone who might actually have control. After all, blaming her is a bit like blaming a waitress for an overcooked steak when they’re not the ones at the grill.” 

“Oh.” Kaitlin was beginning to think that approaching Nadia had been somewhere between a bad and a terrible idea. Feeling foolish, she blushed slightly, hoping that the darkness hid her redness from Nadia. Obviously. Kaitlin played that word over and over in her head. As if the tattered state of the siblings was something she should have known. And of course, she had…to a certain extent. But not to the one that Nadia implied. “Sorry I thought that - I thought you’d met her.”

Human traditions were her foil from time to time. But introducing your bride to your family was one of them, wasn’t it? Unless Kevin didn’t see her as family anymore. “I’ll - um - pass along the message?” She wasn’t sure if she could deliver it with a straight face, or a touch of sympathy on Kevin’s part. He had…endured a lot over these past few months. Unimaginable things. “No no - there’s no emergency. I saw him earlier today actually in tra - “ managing to cut herself off before she revealed anything, Kaitlin brushed past it. “- Just figured I’d say hi. That’s all.”

Part of Nadia began to feel a bit guilty for the girl standing in front of her, stammering. It wasn’t her fault Forest had neglected to introduce her to his wife and she seemed to think Nadia was serious when she instructed her to carry on her message to Forest. Did she really think she wanted a stranger meddling in their family affairs? Another possibility dawned on her then -- maybe the girl was a fan and had thought to come off as less creepy by indicating that she knew her brother. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nadia said, taking pity on the other woman and offering her an out. “I’ll tell him myself the next time I see him.” She probably wouldn’t, but that didn’t matter. “Forgive me for being rude, it’s a little bit of a touchy subject, I’m afraid, but that’s not your fault. You are..?” She let the question drag, waiting for the woman to introduce herself. 

Adare’s enjoyment of humans expanded to no end. The way they flitted about their short, meaningless lives trying to find some sort of meaning in them. The way they considered themselves to be the pinnacle of creation, the top of the food chain, the apex. He liked when they felt bold, when they played crafty and coy. Some of them were, many of them were amateurs. “Michael,” was the name he offered with a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his almost unnaturally colored eyes. She had, after all, asked for someone’s name. Right about now, there was a Michael having a very unpleasant conversation with Ember somewhere in the city. Using his name amused Adare. “Which do you prefer? Nadia or Miss Ives?” Forest had mentioned his sister before and, beyond that, Adare always did his research. It helped, too, that she was a supermodel with a well known name. He figured the recognition would flatter her.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. He didn’t strike her as a Michael; the name seemed too mundane for him somehow. His parents had clearly lacked vision or imagination or both. Of course, as soon as he said her name her expression grew warmer. Lately she’d been feeling as though she was slipping, losing the public’s interest and their eye and therefore losing her career. Becoming irrelevant was one of her greatest fears. “Nadia is fine,” she said with a warm smile, meant to dazzle and yet still look humble. “I guess that means I don’t need to introduce myself, but it’s still nice to meet you.” 

“Well–who’s to say they can’t?” Yvette hunched her shoulders, pulling a face. It was exhausting–chasing down leads, only to find out the information was already old, following clues, only to hit dead ends and brick walls. She understood that this was actually the nature of acquiring knowledge–every week, it seemed, a new article was published disproving or discrediting what had been considered a foundation of psychology. Being wrong was more common than being right; you had to work for good information. 

But it was dispiriting. She envisioned herself laying down on the courtyard and just staying there until things made sense.

“Ninety-nine … I wonder why it’s so expensive–could the shortage have to do with the grass, maybe? I saw–well, I witnessed a … a loss of glamour, I suppose, in connection to physical contact with the grass. It would have been the eighteenth of June.” 

Ten years to the day. She’d remember the date in her sleep–especially in her sleep.

“About a month later, I could confirm that–the person in question–had the ability again … it was a fairly dramatic difference. But if it returned earlier than that, I couldn’t say.” Yvette pressed her lips together, momentarily distracted by a stray notion. “I wonder why they don’t experience hunger? Or–rather, why do we? And what connection do the rocks have to the grass … they were all over Coney Island a few days ago–I don’t know, perhaps they still are. Do you know of any other elixirs that have a similar effect to ninety-nine? Have you used it before?”  

“Maybe they can,” she allowed. Money was nice, hell money was more than nice and she could use an influx to keep herself in ninety-nine, but it wasn’t the real point. It wasn’t her ultimate goal. “God only knows what they’re capable of, really. Good and bad.” 

Nadia allowed herself to speculate along with Yvette, but the answer to whether or not the grass and the ninety-nine shortage were connected was far above her pay grade. She wasn’t a scientist or a scholar or a well reasoned thinker. While she hoped she didn’t truly match the stereotype of a dumb model, she also knew herself well enough to recognize that she was of average intelligence at best. If someone was going to figure it out, it probably wasn’t going to be her. 

“I don’t know,” Nadia answered honestly. “None of it makes sense from a non-magical standpoint. And introducing magic makes anything possible, doesn’t it? The rules go out the window. If they said that there was an elixir that made it possible for people to fly, giving a big fuck you to the laws of nature or whatever, would you doubt it?” She sighed, shaking her head. Her words had to be chosen carefully. Not that she expected Yvette to blab her secret to everyone, but why risk it? “I don’t know of an elixir that makes you fly, by the way, and I don’t know of any that are similar to ninety-nine. I have used it, though -- please don’t tell the paparazzi. It’s...interesting.” 

There. Hopefully that was enough to make it seem like Nadia had only sampled the elixir, no that her life depended on the tiny bottles of golden liquid. 

“We could call it either, but both is always better, don’t you think?” He winked as a playful expression slipped into place on his face. Setting the bottle aside briefly, Adare fetched two glasses and set them on the counter separating them. He poured two glasses each, not too much in either due to the extreme sweetness of this particularly old champagne as much as the rarity of it. “What sort of conversation interests you?”

Nadia accepted the glass of champagne with a soft word of thanks. She tended to avoid this casino given how likely it was she’d run into her brother but they were supposed to be on better terms now. And she had a feeling the people here might be able to tell her more about what was going on with her ever expanding world. Not that she intended to ask outright, of course. Her fingernail tapped against the stem of the glass and she shrugged. “With a stranger? Conversations tend to focus on shallow, networking bullshit if I’m being perfectly honest. Nature of the beast, I’m afraid. Now with friends the topics expand quite a bit. Of course, I generally prefer to know someone’s name before I consider them a friend.” She smirked, raising an eyebrow and waiting for him to introduce herself. 

“Good,” he replied, grinning. “Ty will appreciate that. Because if I ditched him at a freak show, I would no doubt never hear the end of it. And he’s a bit needy,” he joked. “Not that I can blame him for being a bit hungry for my attention.” It was banter for the sake of banter—being playfully arrogant because his mood was bright enough and light enough to call for it. But as the words rolled off his tongue, it gave him a moment’s pause because he realized it sounded like something his brother would say. Somehow, the thought made him grin a bit to himself, before setting it aside. Sometimes they were more alike than they were different, than either of them gave credit. 

“No, this is definitely… new. Honestly, I don’t know why he’s even here. It’s not like he’s been a… pagan fanatic or whatever, in any of the time I’ve known him. I’m not sure what’s up with him. He was pretty vague—but I said I’d come because he seemed nervous about going alone and hell, what could I do? He’s my best friend. What about you? Have you been before? What brings you here exactly?”

“You’re calling him needy after I just accosted you on the street and demanded your company? He must be a real piece of work,” she laughed. Despite the teasing, she could tell Benji was close to Tyler, that he’d do anything for his friend and she appreciated that about him. It felt like the way she was with Larkspur. Though, they hadn’t seen much of each other lately. 

She couldn’t help but wonder it Tyler was vague because he didn’t really know what he was getting into or because he did and still wanted Benji to come along. “I’ve been to one of their, uh, events? I guess they got my name off of a guest list for a different event -- they must have bought it or something to get all the names and addresses of the attendees. Need to speak to someone about the security of that prior event, honestly. I’d prefer for that not to happen again. But anyway, I got an invitation and it sounded intriguing so I went. I’m not really into pagan stuff either, but they were able to answer a few questions about what my brother might have been into which is why I stayed and why I’m going back.” It was a longer, more honest explanation than she’d intended to provide but Benji was easy to talk to. It was no wonder Tyler wanted him along.

“You’re not making it up–alchemy is, historically, the study of transmutation–particularly of base metals to noble metals, the major example being lead to gold–but also, a quest, kinda, for an elixir of immortality or ultimate healing potion. There was a lot of mysticism attached. I don’t know if we take the notion of alchemy from them or they took it from us, to name something utterly separate that they are doing,” Yvette said. A glamour. So she could do what Tiger had shown her? Would she? But more interesting than that was the notion that magic ability could be transmitted through the medium of an elixir, not just an emotion or brain state. She’d have to revise her thinking, yet again.

“I think the casino is gold because the owner likes gold,” Yvette added. "Like–a lot. Not that that’s bad! It’s just his quirk, I think. What’s the number? Of that elixir?”

“Damn, I was really hoping they could turn regular metal into gold. That’d be a neat trick,” Nadia said with a grin. An ultimate healing potion would actually be better for her, but it didn’t seem like that was a real thing. At least not in the way an elixir was. If it existed, they weren’t offering it to her. Or...well, they had said there was a way to fix her face forever. That weird quest that a few of them had mentioned, but it didn’t sound as simple as a potion.

Her stomach clenched at Yvette’s interest in the glamour, even if it was purely academic. The quantity was so limited, she didn’t need more competition for the little gold potions. “It’s ninety-nine, the elixir. But I don’t think it’s for sale anymore. Some sort of shortage or something.” 

Frost: Yes, please, please give me any details you might feel like sharing 👀

Frost: Of course, I wouldn't deny a woman the right to her own clothes and shoes.

Nadia: We'll have a girls night with a lot of alcohol when I move half my wardrobe into your apartment.

Frost: Once again, Sean shows that he's more than just a pretty face and is correct. I'm fine with that, it's not everyday you get to share a closet with a supermodel.

Nadia: Awesome. I'll get you more details when we figure things out

Frost: Anna Wintour would faint at the size of my closet. I just finished paying someone to expand it, as well.

Frost: Why?

When: September 11 Where: Nadia’s apartment Who: @seanoretlann

With her lease ending soon, Nadia had been giving serious consideration to what she was going to do. Yes, she made a decent amount of money modeling but that couldn’t last forever, especially if the shortage of 99 continued. Sean’s offer to move in with him couldn’t have come at a better time. It might be a bit strange to downsize so significantly, especially when it came to her closet. Her master bedroom in her apartment currently had three closets but she knew she was spoiled in that regard. 

Moving in with Sean made sense both from a financial standpoint and for the two of them. Though, she was a bit nervous about discussing their relationship; part of her worried that it worked because they didn’t discuss it in depth. She supposed they’d find out soon enough.