Plotlogs
A Rainbow In The Sky Sr Nikolai 240908
In a serene dawn-lit library, Korina's quiet study was interrupted by an unexpected visitor, not through the door, but from the sky. A white dove, tapping against the window, turned out to be no ordinary bird but a mesmerizingly beautiful demigod named Donnie, dressed in a toga and bearing symbols of divinity. His entrance, transforming from dove to man mid-air, dashed Korina's fleeting thought of a peculiar breakfast. Instead of an easy meal, she found herself facing an offer filled with promises of wealth, magic, resources, and independence.
Donnie presented himself as a diplomat from the Golden Shadow, urging Korina to ally with them to safeguard their realm, Rhagost. The proposition was tempting, with assurances of unparalleled knowledge and power, enough to tempt any soul stirred by ambition or the desire for growth. However, the undercurrents of conflicting emotions and loyalties soon surfaced, marking the conversation with tension.
Despite the demigod's enticing offer and his god-like charm that filled the room with an otherworldly presence, Korina's resolve remained unshaken. Her loyalty to the Hand, an organization evidently marked in opposition to Donnie's goals, stood firm. She viewed his proposal not as an opportunity but as a betrayal, a sentiment that only solidified with the mention of abandoning her past and affiliations for the promises of a stranger, however divine he might seem.
The discourse shifted subtly from persuasive to an examination of Korina's stance, with Donnie showcasing formidable patience and understanding, traits unmarred by her refusal. Yet, the allure of his proposition did its intended work; it planted seeds of doubt and a momentary consideration, showcasing the power and persuasion a godly being could wield merely with words and presence.
In an unexpected turn, as tensions mounted, Korina reached out telepathically for aid, revealing an underlying layer of preparedness and mistrust towards her visitor. Donnie, noticing her silent plea, assured her of non-violence but hinted at actions taken to ensure their privacy, a revelation that added a complex layer to his character, blending concern with manipulation.
Their encounter concluded with Korina's firm rejection of Donnie's offer, a decision made amidst a conflicted storm of emotions, duty, and the allure of what could have been. The demigod, accepting her decision with grace if not disappointment, transformed back into a dove and departed, leaving behind a lingering aura of what was and what might have never been.
This encounter, draped in the early light filtering through the library windows, highlighted the clash between divine temptations and mortal loyalties, weaving a tale that tethered the realm of gods to the steadfast spirit of a woman bound by her convictions, even when faced with the promise of a reality far beyond the ordinary.
(A Rainbow in the Sky(SRNikolai):SRNikolai)
[Sat Sep 7 2024]
In a carpeted library filled with books and trinkets
Carpeted in a deep, plush fabric that muffles footsteps underneath, this lavish library is graced with rich wood paneling from floor to ceiling, with built-in bookshelves lining the eastern and northern walls, some filled with books and others with mechanical and magical trinkets. Large windows overlook Paine Avenue to the south, heavy curtains ready to be drawn for a more serene atmosphere as needed. Directly in front of these windows is a seating area with a couple of overstuffed armchairs and a small side table holding a lamp that casts a warm glow over the room.
It is dawn, about 60F(15C) degrees,
The view from the penthouse library window opens onto a bustling Paine Avenue below. The gym across the street hums with activity, the faint rhythmic thump of bass-heavy music leaking through its doors whenever they swing open. Joggers, their neon-clad figures streaking past, flash in and out of view as they move toward the clothing stores further down the street. To the east, mannequins dressed in newly-released, vibrant fall fashion stare blankly through expansive glass displays, their frozen poses contrasting with the life swirling around them.
Closer to the southwest, students stroll by in small groups, backpacks slung over their shoulders as they make their way to the Institute. The clinic sits quietly amidst the flow of bodies, with its calm exterior standing in stark contrast to the fast-paced rush of the street. Occasionally, a couple of people linger at the doors, chatting softly before heading inside for appointments. Cars, mopeds, and the occasional cyclist navigate the busy road with a sort of controlled chaos, the city's heartbeat echoing steadily from below.
Interrupting the stream of it all, and disturbing Korina from her studies, however, is a pure white dove, fluttering its way up to the southern window and tapping its beak against the glass. It's got a tiny sprig of laurel clasped in its foot, too - the symbolism couldn't be much less subtle.
Korina is seated upon one of the armchairs, directly in a beam of sunlight that's just warm enough to keep her cozy in the air-conditioned library, and there's really more drowsing than studying happening here. She's all set for a nap, the bustle in the background going unregistered to her senses, all in a hush of background noise, when-- tap tap tap.
She looks up with narrowed eyes and a frown, gaze finding and focusing upon the dove in an instant. There's a blink. Breakfast delivering itself...?
Korina glances at the door leading towards the bedroom - if she eats a dove in here, how fast is Nikolai going to find out? Decisions, decisions...
Ultimately, the best course of action, of course, is to open the window and let the dove in so she can pretend she was just doing her duty of keeping the apartment save from pests. Come in, little dove. There's no cat in here to eat you alive.
Appearing quite pleased, as far as a dove can, at the opening of the window, the bird flutters its wings and hops its little body into the library - and its figure unfolds mid-air, twisting and coming undone and dashing Korina's hopes of a cheeky chicken dinner. Left in its place, instead, is a human figure with golden eyes, and a more-than-winsome smile. He is absolutely, positively, drop-dead gorgeous in a sense that takes full advantage of a world where beauty is an objective thing. There have been Fae who were less beautiful than this, surely - even if that was probably their intention.
The man is garbed in a toga of purest white, and a golden circlet rests atop his finely curled blonde hair. He is muscular without being bulky, lithe without being thin, and again, his eyes - they shimmer like liquid gold, but with none of the heat. To fully consider his looks would be a time-consuming thing, the way new and delightful little details seem to reveal themselves, the longer that one might look.
"Good morning," he says softly, and his voice is deep and masculine and sensual, and also birdsong and fresh rain and god he even smells good. A pleased little smile ticks up at the corner of his mouth, and he lowers himself in a modest little bow that Korina can clearly see he doesn't believe in, but he does it well and pleasingly. "Thank you," he says, "For allowing me inside. I had hoped to speak with you, Korina. You can call me Donnie. May I call you Rina?"
In, and closer, and the wildling gets ready to pounce with all her fast reflexes, and--
Korina's disappointment is immeasurable and her day is ruined. There's a long stare at the dove-now-man, like she's considering how easy or hard it would be to throw him back out the window - hard, she assumes, going just off those eyes alone; pretty as they may be, nothing good is going to come from them.
"No," comes the answer - blunt and curt, and she steps back to put one(1) whole armchair between herself and the man, as though that's going to do anything if she has to fight off an ageless demigod shapeshifter. "What do you want." It's not phrased like a question, really, even if it is one.
"To make a proposition," replies Donnie the Demigod. He steps forward graciously to accept the clearly-offered armchair, laying a hand on its spine to turn it towards Korina, then sit himself down in it, looking every bit at home. "Please, relax. I mean you no harm whatsoever. I am here only as a diplomat, or a liaison." He looks around the library admiringly, and as his eyes cross a certain shelf on the northern wall, he pauses, then flicks his eyes to Korina with a knowing little smile. "You have a lovely collection growing here," he enthuses. "As a fellow practitioner, I commend you. I'm one of the Golden Shadow, Korina. We have an opportunity for you - one that could benefit you greatly. Wealth. Magic. Resources. Independence - real independence, to be the Korina you wish to be, untied to the shackles of those who cling to the outmoded rules of a dying reality." He folds his hands together, then leans forward. "Rhagost is my home. I would like you to help us keep it safe. You could join us, if you wanted to, after that, or you could do this one task and be done with us. Whatever you prefer."
Hey, Korina was hiding behind that armchair. No matter, she'll just move over to the other one, absolutely ignoring anything and everything about relaxing and also about whatever he's trying to pull with that bit of armchair thuggery, even if there's a little growl stifled at the man's scent getting all over the place she was just seated on. How rude.
She follows Donnie the Demigod's eyes over to the shelf and back, and this time, the growl /does/ rip free of her throat; she's more than a little possessive about her belongings, after all. "No," comes outright refusal before she's thought about it for even a whole second, and she tips her chin over towards the open window where the dove had flew in from. "I have wealth and magic and resources already. Exit is over there."
Stat Report:Donnie
He has Mind Reading stat at 3.
"You'll find me to be more than a mere mouthful," laughs Donnie, though he doesn't sound too offended by the errant thought flitting across the surface of Korina's mind. And never mind him getting his stink everywhere - that's certainly nothing to complain about. He smells fantastic. It's enough to warm Korina's blood just being across the room from him.
"You do, of course, have wealth and magic already," he nods, "But not on the scale we're offering. I have lived for thousands of years, Korina. My library could not be contained within this entire apartment complex, let alone only this one room. You have thousands of dollars; we are offering you millions. /Real/ wealth; /real/ magic. It's not something you should turn your nose up at, if you'll allow me to say so."
He relaxes back into his seat - /her/ seat - and lifts a benevolent hand into the air. "If you still are not interested, of course, I will leave, and we will be done. I would not force you, or take away your choice. Not a woman of your standing. But if you /are/ interested - then please, sit with me, and we can talk on the matter of business."
The immediate conflict upon Korina's face is clear when Donnie laughs, and there's an effort made to shield her thoughts from him - it's certainly one of the most efforts of all time, while Korina peers over from behind her armchair. Is she tempted? Of course. Anyone would be, faced with a golden-eyed Godling offering them wealth and magic and knowledge beyond their imaginations. There's a long pause, and a glance at the workshop half of the library-workshop, at the door beyond which Nikolai rests.
Her eyes flick back to Donnie. "What do you want me to do?" comes the question. She does not sit.
There's a little sigh as Korina opts to remain standing, but it's only a small sound of disappointment, not anger - as if it might wound him that Korina doesn't trust him right off the bat, but he doesn't blame her, either.
"We need you to feed us information from within the Hand until we can permanently secure the Godrealm," he explains, unfolding his palms like a book. "It would take a couple of months, with your position. This world and its institutions are dying, Korina. They're a thing of the past, in the midst of being swept into the dust bin. For us to /not/ take what remains of it and bring it into the future would be wasteful and wrong. But our cause does rely on our being able to retreat, when it is time, to another world."
His eyes track over her features, empathetic but ever-assessing. "We've heard of the state you were in when you were recovered from the Other," he says, more softly. "You would never have to return there, if our plans work as intended. You could pick any other world - and you would be safe there, from anything you left behind. There would be no Earth to bridge the divide, to leave your past a path back to you. You would be free, Korina, and have the support of great powers... and whatever you might elect to bring with you from here."
Korina may be just a little teeny tiny bit stunted when it comes to expressing emotions, but she knows betrayal when she hears it. Her face goes from a mix of uncertainty and curiosity to a stony mask immediately, slammed right on top of whatever else she might be feeling. "No." she says immediately.
There's an inhale after that, as though she's trying to figure out whether to say something else while Donnie finishes his entire pitch, though the only thing that leaves her is another: "No." Clear enough. She tries again, "The Hand is strong enough to take Godrealm ourselves." Maybe they don't quite have anyone as strong as /this/ particular man in the local chapter, but hey, just wait until James Arkwright comes back home to spend some beloved quality time with his dead descendants. "Maybe it is a strange world, but that does not mean it has to go in the trash."
As for her previous state... that gets no response other than a thinning of her lips, a stubborn frown at the corners of her lips. She's not pleased at all. Instead of saying anything out loud, though, there's just a tendril of psychic power that seeks the mind of Nikolai - along with the thought of 'please be awake' - when she tries to send him her telepathic plea, assuming he's awake enough to hear it: "Need help in library, maybe. Bring gear." Her best idea, considering Donnie here had said he'd leave if she refused? Maybe not. Maybe she just doesn't trust him to leave.
And then, just so she doesn't /have/ to get into what would be a VERY ill-advised fight, Korina tells the God Child: "You should leave."
Donnie clicks his tongue and lets out another disappointed little sigh, then moves to stand from his place on Korina's armchair. "There's no need for that," he says, almost glum with Korina's rejection. "I said I would not hurt you. He's asleep; we've performed a ritual to give you and I some privacy. It will fade soon. There is nothing to worry about." He takes a single step forward, reaching out to offer her his hand to shake - fair and shapely, the mere gesture alone is enough to provoke thoughts of how they might feel wandering their way along her skin. "I regret that we will not meet again. I had high hopes for this meeting, but loyalty is not a thing to bemoan, either. I hope you do find your way to another world before this one meets its end."
No amount of sweet-sounding words are going to be enough to make Korina relax when she's strung up with the man all up in her space with that one step forward - stop smelling so good, goddammit fucking hell - and she tenses even further when her telepathic probings refuse to find their way to the sleeping man, her lip curling with the urge to bare her teeth - there's an undercurrent of self-chiding thoughts running across her mind in an effort to resist it, for all it matters. She stares down at the hand offered; she doesn't want to take it, but does he leave faster if she just shakes the hand? But that would be like admitting defeat, in a way. But she /does/ know when she's outmatched. There's really no winning here, so isn't it better if she just counts her blessings and lets him live as soon as possible? Her eyes flick up to his. Down.
Korina shakes his hand, for as short an amount of time as she can get away with.
Donnie lets out a soft, amused laugh that sounds like world peace and a romantic kiss as the new year rolls over all balled up into one. The simple handshake is warm, protecting, emboldening, masculine - it's easy to see how a less willful young person might have been swept away by his presence. He might just be the closest thing to a god that still walks around in a human body - or that, at least, is what it feels like right next to him. He turns wordlessly, releasing Korina's hand as he seamlessly folds into the form of that dove again and takes wing out of the window, leaving behind that laurel sprig on the windowsill, and the traces of his irresistible scent that lingers in the room. Even with distance, there's no sense of fading glamour - this had not been a visiting Fae. He really was simply that wonderful.
Donnie presented himself as a diplomat from the Golden Shadow, urging Korina to ally with them to safeguard their realm, Rhagost. The proposition was tempting, with assurances of unparalleled knowledge and power, enough to tempt any soul stirred by ambition or the desire for growth. However, the undercurrents of conflicting emotions and loyalties soon surfaced, marking the conversation with tension.
Despite the demigod's enticing offer and his god-like charm that filled the room with an otherworldly presence, Korina's resolve remained unshaken. Her loyalty to the Hand, an organization evidently marked in opposition to Donnie's goals, stood firm. She viewed his proposal not as an opportunity but as a betrayal, a sentiment that only solidified with the mention of abandoning her past and affiliations for the promises of a stranger, however divine he might seem.
The discourse shifted subtly from persuasive to an examination of Korina's stance, with Donnie showcasing formidable patience and understanding, traits unmarred by her refusal. Yet, the allure of his proposition did its intended work; it planted seeds of doubt and a momentary consideration, showcasing the power and persuasion a godly being could wield merely with words and presence.
In an unexpected turn, as tensions mounted, Korina reached out telepathically for aid, revealing an underlying layer of preparedness and mistrust towards her visitor. Donnie, noticing her silent plea, assured her of non-violence but hinted at actions taken to ensure their privacy, a revelation that added a complex layer to his character, blending concern with manipulation.
Their encounter concluded with Korina's firm rejection of Donnie's offer, a decision made amidst a conflicted storm of emotions, duty, and the allure of what could have been. The demigod, accepting her decision with grace if not disappointment, transformed back into a dove and departed, leaving behind a lingering aura of what was and what might have never been.
This encounter, draped in the early light filtering through the library windows, highlighted the clash between divine temptations and mortal loyalties, weaving a tale that tethered the realm of gods to the steadfast spirit of a woman bound by her convictions, even when faced with the promise of a reality far beyond the ordinary.
(A Rainbow in the Sky(SRNikolai):SRNikolai)
[Sat Sep 7 2024]
In a carpeted library filled with books and trinkets
Carpeted in a deep, plush fabric that muffles footsteps underneath, this lavish library is graced with rich wood paneling from floor to ceiling, with built-in bookshelves lining the eastern and northern walls, some filled with books and others with mechanical and magical trinkets. Large windows overlook Paine Avenue to the south, heavy curtains ready to be drawn for a more serene atmosphere as needed. Directly in front of these windows is a seating area with a couple of overstuffed armchairs and a small side table holding a lamp that casts a warm glow over the room.
It is dawn, about 60F(15C) degrees,
The view from the penthouse library window opens onto a bustling Paine Avenue below. The gym across the street hums with activity, the faint rhythmic thump of bass-heavy music leaking through its doors whenever they swing open. Joggers, their neon-clad figures streaking past, flash in and out of view as they move toward the clothing stores further down the street. To the east, mannequins dressed in newly-released, vibrant fall fashion stare blankly through expansive glass displays, their frozen poses contrasting with the life swirling around them.
Closer to the southwest, students stroll by in small groups, backpacks slung over their shoulders as they make their way to the Institute. The clinic sits quietly amidst the flow of bodies, with its calm exterior standing in stark contrast to the fast-paced rush of the street. Occasionally, a couple of people linger at the doors, chatting softly before heading inside for appointments. Cars, mopeds, and the occasional cyclist navigate the busy road with a sort of controlled chaos, the city's heartbeat echoing steadily from below.
Interrupting the stream of it all, and disturbing Korina from her studies, however, is a pure white dove, fluttering its way up to the southern window and tapping its beak against the glass. It's got a tiny sprig of laurel clasped in its foot, too - the symbolism couldn't be much less subtle.
Korina is seated upon one of the armchairs, directly in a beam of sunlight that's just warm enough to keep her cozy in the air-conditioned library, and there's really more drowsing than studying happening here. She's all set for a nap, the bustle in the background going unregistered to her senses, all in a hush of background noise, when-- tap tap tap.
She looks up with narrowed eyes and a frown, gaze finding and focusing upon the dove in an instant. There's a blink. Breakfast delivering itself...?
Korina glances at the door leading towards the bedroom - if she eats a dove in here, how fast is Nikolai going to find out? Decisions, decisions...
Ultimately, the best course of action, of course, is to open the window and let the dove in so she can pretend she was just doing her duty of keeping the apartment save from pests. Come in, little dove. There's no cat in here to eat you alive.
Appearing quite pleased, as far as a dove can, at the opening of the window, the bird flutters its wings and hops its little body into the library - and its figure unfolds mid-air, twisting and coming undone and dashing Korina's hopes of a cheeky chicken dinner. Left in its place, instead, is a human figure with golden eyes, and a more-than-winsome smile. He is absolutely, positively, drop-dead gorgeous in a sense that takes full advantage of a world where beauty is an objective thing. There have been Fae who were less beautiful than this, surely - even if that was probably their intention.
The man is garbed in a toga of purest white, and a golden circlet rests atop his finely curled blonde hair. He is muscular without being bulky, lithe without being thin, and again, his eyes - they shimmer like liquid gold, but with none of the heat. To fully consider his looks would be a time-consuming thing, the way new and delightful little details seem to reveal themselves, the longer that one might look.
"Good morning," he says softly, and his voice is deep and masculine and sensual, and also birdsong and fresh rain and god he even smells good. A pleased little smile ticks up at the corner of his mouth, and he lowers himself in a modest little bow that Korina can clearly see he doesn't believe in, but he does it well and pleasingly. "Thank you," he says, "For allowing me inside. I had hoped to speak with you, Korina. You can call me Donnie. May I call you Rina?"
In, and closer, and the wildling gets ready to pounce with all her fast reflexes, and--
Korina's disappointment is immeasurable and her day is ruined. There's a long stare at the dove-now-man, like she's considering how easy or hard it would be to throw him back out the window - hard, she assumes, going just off those eyes alone; pretty as they may be, nothing good is going to come from them.
"No," comes the answer - blunt and curt, and she steps back to put one(1) whole armchair between herself and the man, as though that's going to do anything if she has to fight off an ageless demigod shapeshifter. "What do you want." It's not phrased like a question, really, even if it is one.
"To make a proposition," replies Donnie the Demigod. He steps forward graciously to accept the clearly-offered armchair, laying a hand on its spine to turn it towards Korina, then sit himself down in it, looking every bit at home. "Please, relax. I mean you no harm whatsoever. I am here only as a diplomat, or a liaison." He looks around the library admiringly, and as his eyes cross a certain shelf on the northern wall, he pauses, then flicks his eyes to Korina with a knowing little smile. "You have a lovely collection growing here," he enthuses. "As a fellow practitioner, I commend you. I'm one of the Golden Shadow, Korina. We have an opportunity for you - one that could benefit you greatly. Wealth. Magic. Resources. Independence - real independence, to be the Korina you wish to be, untied to the shackles of those who cling to the outmoded rules of a dying reality." He folds his hands together, then leans forward. "Rhagost is my home. I would like you to help us keep it safe. You could join us, if you wanted to, after that, or you could do this one task and be done with us. Whatever you prefer."
Hey, Korina was hiding behind that armchair. No matter, she'll just move over to the other one, absolutely ignoring anything and everything about relaxing and also about whatever he's trying to pull with that bit of armchair thuggery, even if there's a little growl stifled at the man's scent getting all over the place she was just seated on. How rude.
She follows Donnie the Demigod's eyes over to the shelf and back, and this time, the growl /does/ rip free of her throat; she's more than a little possessive about her belongings, after all. "No," comes outright refusal before she's thought about it for even a whole second, and she tips her chin over towards the open window where the dove had flew in from. "I have wealth and magic and resources already. Exit is over there."
Stat Report:Donnie
He has Mind Reading stat at 3.
"You'll find me to be more than a mere mouthful," laughs Donnie, though he doesn't sound too offended by the errant thought flitting across the surface of Korina's mind. And never mind him getting his stink everywhere - that's certainly nothing to complain about. He smells fantastic. It's enough to warm Korina's blood just being across the room from him.
"You do, of course, have wealth and magic already," he nods, "But not on the scale we're offering. I have lived for thousands of years, Korina. My library could not be contained within this entire apartment complex, let alone only this one room. You have thousands of dollars; we are offering you millions. /Real/ wealth; /real/ magic. It's not something you should turn your nose up at, if you'll allow me to say so."
He relaxes back into his seat - /her/ seat - and lifts a benevolent hand into the air. "If you still are not interested, of course, I will leave, and we will be done. I would not force you, or take away your choice. Not a woman of your standing. But if you /are/ interested - then please, sit with me, and we can talk on the matter of business."
The immediate conflict upon Korina's face is clear when Donnie laughs, and there's an effort made to shield her thoughts from him - it's certainly one of the most efforts of all time, while Korina peers over from behind her armchair. Is she tempted? Of course. Anyone would be, faced with a golden-eyed Godling offering them wealth and magic and knowledge beyond their imaginations. There's a long pause, and a glance at the workshop half of the library-workshop, at the door beyond which Nikolai rests.
Her eyes flick back to Donnie. "What do you want me to do?" comes the question. She does not sit.
There's a little sigh as Korina opts to remain standing, but it's only a small sound of disappointment, not anger - as if it might wound him that Korina doesn't trust him right off the bat, but he doesn't blame her, either.
"We need you to feed us information from within the Hand until we can permanently secure the Godrealm," he explains, unfolding his palms like a book. "It would take a couple of months, with your position. This world and its institutions are dying, Korina. They're a thing of the past, in the midst of being swept into the dust bin. For us to /not/ take what remains of it and bring it into the future would be wasteful and wrong. But our cause does rely on our being able to retreat, when it is time, to another world."
His eyes track over her features, empathetic but ever-assessing. "We've heard of the state you were in when you were recovered from the Other," he says, more softly. "You would never have to return there, if our plans work as intended. You could pick any other world - and you would be safe there, from anything you left behind. There would be no Earth to bridge the divide, to leave your past a path back to you. You would be free, Korina, and have the support of great powers... and whatever you might elect to bring with you from here."
Korina may be just a little teeny tiny bit stunted when it comes to expressing emotions, but she knows betrayal when she hears it. Her face goes from a mix of uncertainty and curiosity to a stony mask immediately, slammed right on top of whatever else she might be feeling. "No." she says immediately.
There's an inhale after that, as though she's trying to figure out whether to say something else while Donnie finishes his entire pitch, though the only thing that leaves her is another: "No." Clear enough. She tries again, "The Hand is strong enough to take Godrealm ourselves." Maybe they don't quite have anyone as strong as /this/ particular man in the local chapter, but hey, just wait until James Arkwright comes back home to spend some beloved quality time with his dead descendants. "Maybe it is a strange world, but that does not mean it has to go in the trash."
As for her previous state... that gets no response other than a thinning of her lips, a stubborn frown at the corners of her lips. She's not pleased at all. Instead of saying anything out loud, though, there's just a tendril of psychic power that seeks the mind of Nikolai - along with the thought of 'please be awake' - when she tries to send him her telepathic plea, assuming he's awake enough to hear it: "Need help in library, maybe. Bring gear." Her best idea, considering Donnie here had said he'd leave if she refused? Maybe not. Maybe she just doesn't trust him to leave.
And then, just so she doesn't /have/ to get into what would be a VERY ill-advised fight, Korina tells the God Child: "You should leave."
Donnie clicks his tongue and lets out another disappointed little sigh, then moves to stand from his place on Korina's armchair. "There's no need for that," he says, almost glum with Korina's rejection. "I said I would not hurt you. He's asleep; we've performed a ritual to give you and I some privacy. It will fade soon. There is nothing to worry about." He takes a single step forward, reaching out to offer her his hand to shake - fair and shapely, the mere gesture alone is enough to provoke thoughts of how they might feel wandering their way along her skin. "I regret that we will not meet again. I had high hopes for this meeting, but loyalty is not a thing to bemoan, either. I hope you do find your way to another world before this one meets its end."
No amount of sweet-sounding words are going to be enough to make Korina relax when she's strung up with the man all up in her space with that one step forward - stop smelling so good, goddammit fucking hell - and she tenses even further when her telepathic probings refuse to find their way to the sleeping man, her lip curling with the urge to bare her teeth - there's an undercurrent of self-chiding thoughts running across her mind in an effort to resist it, for all it matters. She stares down at the hand offered; she doesn't want to take it, but does he leave faster if she just shakes the hand? But that would be like admitting defeat, in a way. But she /does/ know when she's outmatched. There's really no winning here, so isn't it better if she just counts her blessings and lets him live as soon as possible? Her eyes flick up to his. Down.
Korina shakes his hand, for as short an amount of time as she can get away with.
Donnie lets out a soft, amused laugh that sounds like world peace and a romantic kiss as the new year rolls over all balled up into one. The simple handshake is warm, protecting, emboldening, masculine - it's easy to see how a less willful young person might have been swept away by his presence. He might just be the closest thing to a god that still walks around in a human body - or that, at least, is what it feels like right next to him. He turns wordlessly, releasing Korina's hand as he seamlessly folds into the form of that dove again and takes wing out of the window, leaving behind that laurel sprig on the windowsill, and the traces of his irresistible scent that lingers in the room. Even with distance, there's no sense of fading glamour - this had not been a visiting Fae. He really was simply that wonderful.