Julius’
Sun:
FatherJulius was 15 when his father died. He was still in school At the time, working on after school project with a bunch of friends. He hadn't intended to be late heading home and, anyway, he was carpooling with his friend’s mom.It was easier for both of them, since they live in the same direction. By the time he was done, it was getting dark - and he honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if it had started to snow or rain. The trip home started well enough. He could joke around with his friend a bit, complain about the fact they were getting home after dark, when his cellphone rang. It was hurriedly pulled from his pocket and the buttons pushed with patience. “Hello?” he asked, unsure of who it was.
His coloring faded to a paler and paler tone as he listened to the voice on the other end. By now, he’s friend’s mother had pulled the car into his drive, but he still hadn’t gotten out.
His friend nudged him. “Hey, Juls … what’s the matter?” Julius waited for several long moments before answering. “My … my …” The phone was gently placed on his lap, more by autopilot than anything like consideration. His arms wrapped around his sides, trying to breath. At least both his friend and his mother could understand it was serious by now. His friend reached out, gently squeezing Julius’ shoulder.
“Ma’m,” Julius said. “Can you please drive me to Grace Lake Hospital?” His friend’s mother pulled out of the drive without asking questions. Outside, the first flakes of snow started to fall.
“What’s wrong, Julius?” asked his friend, but Julius just shook his head several times. He didn’t talk, but he did at least try not to cry. He managed it right up until they pulled into the parking lot. All three of them walked in, Julius in the back and unwilling to show his face. He felt numb, his hands trembling and fingers unable to hold the pen to sign in. The receptionist took pity on him and finished the ‘Quinn’ part of it. She gave him a forced attempt at a reassuring smile.
Julius met his mother after staying in the lobby for a little. His sister was who knew where. Maybe too far away to get there on time.
His mother hugged him. He didn’t return it. He couldn’t move very much at all. “Is … is …?” He hesitated. But he couldn’t get the words out. His mother didn’t look confident. His heart completely fell.
“We don’t know yet,” she said and then said some things about him having a stroke and so on, but all Julius could focus on was that not knowing yet was a lie.
They were there past midnight. It made no difference. The smell of antiseptic and not being able to sleep … and crying … there was a fair bit of that.
Being alright was always a lie in this place.
His father died at three in the morning. Julius has never liked anything to do with hospitals then or since.
ORIGIN "Sun: Father": Half of the ‘Sun’ prompts ended up being ‘Son’ prompts. This was no different. I’ve mentioned a couple times that Julius’ father died when he was fifteen, so I actually wrote that out. Also, showing a bit of his home town - I wanted it to snow.
Aaron’s
Embarrassment:
EshlenEshlen poked at Aaron’s shoulder. Aaron grunted and then removed the book, which was covering his face, “What?” he asked blearily, looking at her. He could hear her slightly nervous heartbeat. His expression morphed into one of concern. He looked the woman up (which was a fair way) and then down (less so); the chair didn’t help.
At least she didn’t seem very distressed, just nervous. “What?” he asked again.
Eshlen, someone he’d known since her birth twenty-six years ago, and up to her grandfather and grandmother before her, was of average height, with black hair and bitten nails. Her wrist had the Goldman symbol on it, though it was tattooed into the skin of her wrist. Not the choice Aaron would have opted for, but she was a free woman who did what she liked.
“I …” she started, then motioned for him to come with her. Aaron shifted in his seat, before getting to his feet. “What is it?” he asked again now curious, feeling like a broken record. He walked after her.
She went to the back room, past Marcel’s and then Theo and Patience’s. She opened the door to the back room and then Aaron padded in, really not knowing what to expect.
“Hum?” he grunted, turning to look at her. She waved him further in, which in all honesty he found rather odd, but he did what he was told.
He walked around the center of the room, which was left empty because Theo liked space in this sort of area. There was a bed in the corner, but it was unused. Really, this place just doubled as a guest room. As far as he could tell, it looked just as it usually did.
It was only as he got closer to the sink, the cabinets, and other make-shift first aid stand that he smelled the problem. First, he eyed the refrigerator and then the sink. He had to get a bit closer for the latter; he wasn’t tall enough.
“How many did you drop?” he asked, both amazed and impressed, but not angry as Eshlen seemed to be expecting.
It all smelled. A combination of chemicals, blood, water, and other things Aaron couldn’t guess at. In the sink there were several glass containers, which had been cracked and the contents were now leaking down the drain, joining the contents of punctured bags and the broken Tupperware container. He looked over at the refrigerator. There was a small puddle of nameless mix growing at its base. “All of them?” he asked, looking back at Eshlen. “What did you do? Run into the refrigerator?”
She nodded slowly, then said in a rush, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to tell Theo and I tried to clean it up, but …” She shook her head, as if this completed the pointlessness of the task. Aaron wondered why he hadn’t heard when this happened, but he wasn’t surprised no one else had come to check. It was only him and Aurelia here. Patience Jr. and Jakob hadn’t wanted to hang around the house today. So it was just the two youngest vampires, and Eshlen, and Williams.
“It’s fine,” he reassured, holding up his hands. “I believe the expression is ‘don’t cry over spilled milk?’”
Eshlen looked like she wanted to crawl under the bed and cry regardless, her face was red. “Thanks Aaron.” It had been a lot of Theo’s stuff, Aaron had to admit. But they could at least make sure he didn’t pick up broken glass. “You get the trash can, I’ll get some rags.”
ORIGIN "Embarrassment: Eshlen": This was before Marcel died and probably before Julius. Jochen was probably still around to. Playing around with where this story was going to go was impossible. Eshlen is probably still alive come modern Morganville. Probably with kids and still calling the Goldmans every now and again to say hi.
Samuel’s
Whimsical:
Something with your brother dearThere was a time, about when Samuel was eight, when he ended up eating soup. His father spent several long minutes with his as he choked, both at the taste and the fact that he couldn’t seem to get the feeling out of his throat. It wasn’t pleasant. When he eventually stopped coughing his dad asked him why he’d done that. Not looking up at him, Sam said he’d done it himself, just to see what would happen.
The experience with some siblings is you just didn’t say anything. And there was his older brother, hanging around. He looked worried too, honestly worried, and Sam didn’t think he’d expected him to have that sort of reaction to the ‘joke’ that had gotten them here.
That was just how it worked. He didn’t out his brother about this. With the swiftness of a young mind he forgot what his brother had done a couple hours later. You stuck by him and didn’t spend too much time on the bad things.
There were good times, of course. One day when his father had to work on Saturday, his brother dragged him out into the small backyard. With him, he took all the little ice containers out of the freezer, along with the ice packs, and put them into the little wading pool. Looking around and then up at the hot sun he then turned his attention back to Samuel. “This is going to be cool,” he made a pun.
Samuel, about nine by now, raised his eyebrows. “How do you mean?”
His brother waved at the pool then at the hose. “Like, actually cool. We could make snow from this I bet!” This did peak Sam’s curiosity. He’d only ever seen snow on the TV. Texas wasn’t exactly famous for it. “How?” he questioned.
His brother frowned down at the ice cube trays and tapped his flip-flop covered foot against the hot concrete. After that long consideration he reached down and dumped each tray into the pool until there was a good scattering of them. They started to melt almost at once.
Sam’s brother stepped into the pool, flip flops still on, and started to step across the ice carefully. It crunched under his feet. “So,” he said. “Like, we break them into small pieces and remold them into snowballs!” Sam wasn’t so sure that would work but he was hot enough to try. He joined his brother in the pool, stepping around and once or twice slipping painfully. By the time they’d broken everything into small-ish pieces it was all closer to slush than ice.
Reaching down, his brother picked a handful of ice chips and tossed them at Sam. Sam shrieked. It was cold. Certainly looked nothing like a snowball and some chips were large enough to hurt a bit. But battle had been challenged and he reached down, scooping up his own handful and flinging it.
They both nearly fell out of the small wading pool several times. They were soaked, their feet long ago turned sore and numb, their hands dripping and fingers stinging. Places on their face were as well but they just grinned at each other. It was hot enough that they continued this sort of play long after the ice had melted and instead attempting to cool the water with ice packs. It wasn’t as effective but it was great.
Their father found them there, sun setting, panting with exertion more than heat. Both were ridiculously sunburned the following day but it was just possible Sam found it worth it. It was a memory that would stick with him.
ORIGIN "Whimsical: Something with your brother dear": This was originally meant to be 'Disgruntlement' I believe. But it went off in a different direction and instead I followed up on a small statement I made when I said Samuel had once tried to have a homemade snowball fight. This was me also looking a bit at his brother (notice I still fail to name him. I will lie and say that's a plot point and not me being lazy and not coming up with a name). I wanted to study their relationship just a little, since it's likely to be relevant. His brother wasn't horrible and I do think that they were good siblings for each other. But Samuel's brother was not made to take care of his younger brother by himself. It just wasn't something he could do. So I wanted to show a before time of that. When he was a brother and not a guardian.
Julius’
Mad: HalloweenDuring the darker times in Morganville, when vampires and humans were as good as enemies, Julius and Marcel, a human and a vampire, were eating dinner together. Evening was coming on, so Julius knew Marcel would probably be driving him home.But for now, he could enjoy the food and the company.
However, about five minutes later, Marcel's head jerked up. “ What day is it?”
Julius took several long seconds to get what he was supposed to say. “Um, Halloween, I think.”
Marcel hurriedly got to his feet, moving to the window and pushing the curtain aside. This got Julius to stand too, worried about what the sunlight would do to him. But the sun had already gone down by the looks of it. “ What is it,” he asked.
“Some idiot human,” murmured Marcel. He turned away from the window even as Julius pressed his face to it. A human
was out there, just visible, and there were two shadows joining in. Vampires. When the human was just on the sidewalk across from the window, they pounced.
“Marcel!” Julius exclaimed, looking around for the other vampire. He had to help … but he wasn't there anymore.
Julius turn back to the window and blinked in surprise. Very slowly, he unlocked the window and opened it a little so he could hear. There wasn't much use calling anyone anyway.
“Back off!” growled Marcel, squaring his shoulders, head low as he stalked along the drive (and for a rare occurrence that description was appropriate).The human had already been bitten, clearly out of it, but Marcel's interference caused the vampire who had bitten him to look up and the other, who’d been watching, to growl back. “Get your own food.”
“I said, back off! Let the human go!” One of the vampires - Julius realized they were female - lifted up the human's arm. No watch band or bracelet. “Free game, human-lover.” her eyes went to the window and Julius took a step back. But he still saw her disgusted look.
Marcel sighed and pulled something from his pocket. A handgun. The male vampire was the one who snickered now. The human look like he was trying to say something but didn't. Marcel frowned, still aiming at the female vampire.
“What use is that?” She asked, looking entertained.
“Plenty,” said Marcel evenly. “ If it has silver bullets and I'm aiming for your eye.”
The female vampire started to look nervous. The male scoffed. “Yea nice bluff. Try again.” Marcel just kept looking at him, teeth sheathed where the other vampires’ weren't. “And if I'm not bluffing, your partner loses an eye and very probably her life. Let the human go.”
The female vampire very hesitantly reached out and tugged at the male’s sleeve. “Come on. It's not worth it. There are other strays around tonight. The breather-lover can't protect them all.” She sneered at Marcel and carefully turned.
When both of them were around the corner, Marcel gripped the arm of the human - he had to be from TPU - and pulled him toward the house. “Come on.”
The human struggled a little, but otherwise couldn't do much.
When he and the human got back to the kitchen, Marcel set the gun on the table and said to the human, “My father is a doctor. Wait here.”
The man was shaking and flinched away from Marcel. Julius looked at him, wondering if he had been like that one time.
“Julius,” said Marcel, motioning for him to come in his direction. Julius did and the human flinched from him just the same as Marcel. The vampire looked over, then gently grabbed Julius’ arm, pulling him away.
“Does the gun have bullets in it?” asked Julius suspiciously. Marcel's expression twitched. “No, or I would not have left it with him.”
He shrugged one shoulder and didn't meet Julius' eyes for a second. Then he said, “Look … sorry if she said .. I would have argued if I felt it wouldn't have ..” It took a good five seconds for Julius to realize Marcel meant the glare and ‘breather- lover’ comment from the female vampire.
Julius reached out, resting a hand lightly on Marcel’s shoulder. “I don't care. Anyway … it's nothing
you need to apologize for. Now … I think you might need to get Theo for our new friend in the kitchen.”
ORIGIN "Mad: Halloween": I wanted to write about something in Morganville which captured some of the dangers of being out at night. And it was nearing Christmas when I actually wrote this, but one of my RPs was approaching Halloween. As it was, I also wanted to show Marcel having a different sort of weapon than most vampires. It was originally written on the back of a resturant menu!
Julius’ Midnight snacks: First dateThey’d both kept in contact, to some extent, since the Draug. It was fun to talk to Marcel. He was … interesting. Julius didn’t know a lot of people in Morganville outside of the college and Marcel, while a vampire, didn’t
seem to be anywhere but on Julius’ side.
It took almost a year for them both to get their act together and actually consider a date. This threw up brand knew awkward problems, least of all they weren’t really sure it would work out. And a lot of things had to be worked out around Marcel’s schedule. This meant most things in the daylight hours were out, unless he was willing to bundle up like a snowman. This looked okay in Winter, where it even got cold in Morganville, but he looked rather ridiculous in Summer. So, in this case, Marcel had been the one to suggest a place. He did know a couple of cafes and things which were open late enough that they were fairly good for vampires. Apart from Common Grounds, which was close to the University, there was also a couple good places that were in the area of Julius’ apartment.
They were awkwardly silent all through the walk there, while Julius guiltily looked around, trying not to be self-conscious. Truthfully, he’d never been on a really successful one of these. Marcel had to have been with a dozen others who would have been more entertaining than him. Or had at least looked at him. He looked over, catching Marcel’s eyes. They’d known each other for a fair amount of time, as good acquaintances and slightly absent friends both. He really should have been a bit more comfortable with the idea that they might like each other. But really, it wasn’t that easy. They both ended up looking in the opposite direction again, Marcel tugging at the collar of his turtleneck sweater, as if it was choking him. Julius just colored.
He actually didn’t even pay attention to where they were going. At least this part of town was safer to walk around in during this almost-night. But Marcel stuck close, looking around. It made everything a bit more nerve-wracking knowing there might be a not very friendly vampire around the next corner. All in the life of Morganville; it was where most humans had a near-vampire-death experience at least once. He rubbed a finger over the bracelet he had on his wrist. It had the Goldman, Marcel’s, symbol on the small band. Everyone knew that it almost functioned the same as dog-tags, with the extra addition that you had to donate some of your blood every month to whoever ‘owned’ you. He didn’t think he minded too much about the blood donations (it was just like donating blood the regular way, through a medical facility in this case). But he did not like the idea of dating someone who, essentially, would then be viewed, by every other vampire, to have gone out with … property! That grated at him, but there really was nothing he could do about it.
Marcel tapped him on the shoulder, breaking Julius out of his thoughts. He looked over and a bit down. Despite the fact he was younger than Marcel by a couple of years, he was still taller. The other man nodded in the direction they’d been going, and Julius followed the indication. At some point, they’d gotten there. He smiled a bit, relaxing, and opened the door. Marcel squeezed in after him, the warm light inside lighting up his face. The place was mostly empty, though there were several people in the back. Vampires as well, Julius assumed. Marcel looked over at them warily for a second, but then relaxed. Maybe he recognized them.
They hadn’t said much to one another for a good hour, so breaking that silence also seemed to lift something from Julius’ shoulder. “Where would you like to sit?” questioned Marcel, hands in his pockets now. He tilted on his heels, looking at Julius. Julius considered, then pointed to a corner booth which had a window. Marcel nodded and took two of the menus. It wasn’t a fancy place – Julius didn’t even know if Morganville
had any fancier end restaurants which allowed vampires. Well, correction … they
all allowed vampires. There was never a way to forbid them, unlike the other way around. But they didn’t have to serve something they’d actually want to eat. And they could still give them not-so-veiled dirty looks, though that was a bit riskier.
Marcel sat on the same side of the booth that Julius had, which made him uncomfortable for two reasons: one was that he had to tilt in his seat to talk to him and the other was this meant Marcel was
right next to him. He felt he should be fine with this, but it was very distracting. Marcel seemed to realize this a couple minutes later and switched seats, looking guilty and abashed. Enough so that Julius said, “Sorry, sorry. If you wanted to sit there, I’m okay!”
But Marcel shook his head. “I want you to be comfortable. I can sit here.” He smiled again. Julius liked his smile. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
There were long moments of hesitation between anything they said, but slowly they found their usual rhythm again. The sort they’d had before, and how they’d been able to care. It continued like that until both their orders had been taken and their food had arrived. (Marcel having ordered human food, as he seemed to prefer to do whenever Julius was around. Despite the fact he’d said he was okay if he didn’t.)
While not overly ‘important’ in the grand scheme of things it was the sort of awkward night that Julius remembered. It didn’t end completely horribly … even … he had liked it. And Marcel was still smiling, so he really hoped he had as well. Nothing really ended up happening apart from them agreeing that it had been a good night and Marcel making sure Julius got home without incident. But they’d agreed it would be nice if they did something under the heading ‘date’ again. Julius didn’t mind the idea at all.
ORIGIN "Midnight snacks: First date": Marcel and Julius are both foolish and completely out of their depth … but at least they’re in it together. Julius is still newly an adult and trying to figure himself out - he doesn’t often have a crush on anyone, much less act on it. Marcel never had himself figured out, so there’s that too. Nothing much of content in here, but a story I hope isn’t too boring. There are small references to Marcel dislike of being a vampire, but if you don’t pick up on them, don’t worry … Julius didn’t either.
Julius’ Entranced: Someone suggested a picnic"Julius," said Marcel. "You have a fascinating ability, when given a multiple choice question of A or B, to bubble in both answers."
Julius looked at his boyfriend for a second, hand resting on the side of the door, puzzling over that. I mean, he could see it in a general sense but he couldn’t see it right
now. Marcel looked exasperated too and Julius couldn’t really pick out why that was. “Er … yes?” He smiled, like that would get him the answer he was looking for. Shifting at the doorstep he waited to see what exactly would happen. Behind Marcel the sun was dipping over the horizon and already there was just the sliver of orange in the sky.
Marcel sighed slightly, maybe amused, but Julius was still trying to figure out the little nuances to his movements. “Correct me if I’m wrong but your thought process went something like ‘I want to spend time with Marcel but if I invite him somewhere that might look pushy and he’s a vampire so that takes out a lot of day things and I’m not sure he’d even want to go anywhere but maybe he
would so I’ll just call him and hint heavily that he could come over to my house and maybe
he can figure something out?’” Marcel’s eyebrow arched, blue eyes already gaining a bit of reflective quality thanks to the darkness.
Julius wanted to open his mouth and protest that no such thing had crossed his mind
and Marcel was putting a lot of himself into that speculation. But then there was the whole vampires being able to tell lies.
“Hum,” said Julius. “Does that mean you
do want to help me figure something out?” Marcel’s hand braced on the same side of the doorway that Julius’ hand was. “I’m the one standing in
your doorway, Julius Quinn. Do I get invited in or should I stay here?” He was several inches shorter than Julius, chin turned upward by slight to catch his eye. Both pairs of eyes held the same note of friendly amusement that had grown very comfortable between them. Marcel could, as he was well aware, enter Julius’ house at any time, with or without permission. But he asked anyway. It … was still nice of him, if Julius was honest.
It had nothing to do with Marcel being a vampire. The one time Julius had ever felt any concern regarding that Marcel’s expression had shifted to something so hurt that Julius had found that the ‘concern’ wasn’t any such thing. No, it made him more comfortable because it was much the same introduction Marcel had when he’d first knocked on the door. Julius over-thought, was wary until he was
sure, and in this case it had been over half a year of the same hesitant meetings between him and Marcel before he
finally asked for an official date. He might have done so sooner with any extra pushing but Marcel didn’t do that. Marcel was patient, a trait not unusual in vampires, so much that it had become a habit for him to check with Julius even before coming into the house. But the time when that was necessary was probably past.
Julius reached out, grabbing Marcel’s free hand and backing up. “Come in, Marcellus Goldman. This is your time to tell me where you like to hang out around this time.”
Stepping over the threshold without pause and closing the door behind them, Marcel frowned. “Nothing particularly useful I’m afraid. Morganville does limit our options.” And he was stuck in Morganville. Vampires weren’t allowed over the border.
Inside the house the lights were on, the kitchen small and the living room was right next to it, no wall separating the two. Four rooms if you counted the bathroom and the living room/kitchen as rooms in their own right. Then Julius’ room was situated in the back. Marcel walked around with the same ease and grace as if he was entering Buckingham Palace.
“Never said my ideas were perfect,” admitted Julius, leaning against the small kitchen table, one leg crossed over the other.
He watched Marcel’s fingers twitch toward his pocket, reaching for the small sketchbook he kept there, but still watching Julius. Watching Julius color. Marcel smiled.
“You do that on purpose,” murmured Julius, blinking at the coffee maker so he had an empty excuse to hide the twitch of his lips.
“Yes,” admitted Marcel. “I do. Though the lighting is
awful in here and I can’t say I ever get it right.” When Julius looked back he had the notebook in his hands anyway. A piece of rubbing charcoal in his other hand. Pencils and vampires didn’t mix but Julius had still been surprised that Marcel carried around pieces of charcoal to draw instead. “Common Grounds is open at this time,” Julius noted, getting back on topic. If they’d ever had a topic at all.
Marcel, looking through his lashes up at him, said, “You have a coffee maker here that you were just looking at. While Oliver makes wonderful coffee it is something that I can get here just as much as there.” Seeing Julius’ disappointed look Marcel winced, turning is attention back to the supposedly blank piece of paper. “I …” he said, sounding hesitant. “Yeah, sorry. I got the point of you asking me over here. ...I don’t
know any good dating spots. I’m not enough of a people person to have ever looked around.” He glanced up again, fingers hovering over the paper. Julius was sitting on the table by now, balanced in a way that was precarious but comfortable.
“Someone suggested a picnic,” he admitted after a second. It sounded silly even as he said it.
Marcel took a step forward, arms going onto the back of a chair after he’d tucked the charcoal and notebook back into his jeans pockets, unused. “Someone?”
“Michael Glass,” Julius clarified. Marcel’s eyebrows went up again. He tapped a finger against his lips as he thought a bit about this and Julius watched as a bit of charcoal got smudged under his nose without him noticing.
“I am not,” Marcel admitted. “So sure how that would work. The idea isn’t
bad. Did you have further thoughts?” Julius knew that Marcel had realized he did. The reason, Julius also knew, that Marcel wasn’t sure about the suggestion was because of the sun. There was always a risk about leaving the house at night, with a vampire or not.
Julius’ fingers tapped against the wood of the table and then he admitted, “This housingblock has an open roof.”
Marcel’s hand dropped away from his face. He looked … intrigued. “Ah, so you
did have plans to invite me somewhere.” Another break in his speech and then he nodded. “Sounds calming. Now?”
Looking around from atop the table Julius could think of where to get everything. “We could. Do you want to you? I mean, you’re here.”
Marcel continued to brace himself up with the chair. “I’m yours for the night. I have nowhere else I want to be.”
Julius couldn’t keep the smile off his face and he scooted off the table. First, however, there was a pressing thing he needed to take care of. Marcel, who’d hadn’t moved from where he was leaning and only turned his head to watch Julius, was met with soft fingers swiping away the charcoal on his face and then a swift kiss to replace where it had been. Then Julius was off to get his keys, among other things.
He only heard Marcel behind him murmur, slightly distant like he was thinking of something else, “Thanks.” Out of the corner of Julius’ eyes he saw him smile a bit, also noting that he took a tissue and worked at his face, seeing about any remaining charcoal.
++
Despite having a rousing nightlife, Morganville was very quiet at this hour. It also had an amazing view when you looked straight up. Starmaps and constellations spread out like someone had taken handfuls of salt and thrown them into the heavens. Beautiful was one word. Breathtaking was another.
"Picnics," said Marcel, looking down. "Usually involve food." Julius, spread out across the tablecloth and part of the roof, tilted his head. "Yeah, but there'd be nothing for you then."
On second thought he raised his wrist, the clinking of a bracelet against corresponding links. A plate on the bracelet had a symbol on it and he twisted it around so he could see it. In whatever language these symbols were in it said 'Goldman'. He lowered his arm again, not saying anything about the fact that it wasn't exactly true. Marcel wasn't really paying attention anyway. "It's not like I would mind. I eat human food." Julius was never sure about what part of drawing attention to him being a vampire would bring up the blank, almost pained look. He was never
sure but usually he was a pretty good guesser. Marcel hadn't flinched. He was just informative.
"But do you
like it," Julius pressed.
Chewing at his lip, Marcel finally admitted. "Not particularly. Sometimes."
Julius changed the subject from there, because his next question would have been 'do you miss it?' and he thought he already knew the answer.
"Anyway, I thought you'd appreciate this more. Less distractions and you get to look at the stars." He seemed to be the only one looking, however. Well, sometimes looking.
Marcel did look up at the mention. He'd lived her so much longer than Julius. Julius wondered how many skies he'd seen. Maybe he was bored of this one.
Julius had come from the outlying areas of a city, where the smog and light pollution had blocked all this out. He could still appreciate it.
As if reading his mind, Marcel said, "This is nice. I like it."
He looked down at Julius again then tilted his own head. Julius lifted himself up onto his elbows and scooted over until his head was on Marcel's shoulder. After another second, Julius realized this interfered a bit with meeting his boyfriend's eyes and instead scooted a little further until his head was resting in Marcel's lap instead. Marcel looked a bit surprised but pleased.
Julius couldn't tell what emotion his eyes held, they were just reflecting the scattered streetlights, but he didn't need to.
"You're going to fall asleep like that," Marcel stated.
"Will not," Julius protested.
"Will to," said Marcel, one hand moving away from his side and began to run through Julius' hair but not before playfully flicking his nose.
They were quiet for a second, sometimes looking around. Julius didn't feel tired, despite the fact that he was not usually up so late. "You could sing," commented Marcel, breaking the silence. Julius blinked. "What?"
"You were just thinking that you should say something," Marcel said. "Against the overwhelming odds of interrupting the sound of the stray cat down in the alley that's convinced the tuna can at the bottom of the trash will have something edible." His fingers tugged a bit at one strand of Julius' hair. "Or rather, you didn't want to interrupt the quiet."
It just wasn't quiet for Marcel. Julius frowned up at him. "You can't mind read, can you?"
Marcel, taking the question seriously, shook his head. "No. Just expressions. The corners of your eyes crinkled for a second and then when you thought better of it your ears went a bit red." Julius, who couldn't see in the dark, was impressed. "But why sing?"
"Hum," said Marcel, voice speculative, though there was a hint of a joke. "I wonder. Maybe because I like your voice?"
Julius didn't say anything. He felt embarrassed. Sure, there was no one around to hear (unless the possible stray cat counted) but that didn't mean he could actually get started. "W-what song?" Marcel was looking a bit to the left, head upturned. "Pick one, Jules. Don't overthink all this too much." Julius reached up at that, fingers moving aside Marcel's hair and landing lightly against his cheek. Always the look of surprise, like Marcel never fully expected him to get that close.
There was a long second and then, starting out as a hesitant hum, Julius slowly worked a small song out of himself, hand never dropping.
ORIGIN "Entranced: Someone suggested a picnic": This is probably, at least at the time of me writing this explanation, my favorite story within Julius' section. Someone literally did suggest these two go on a picnic. I was explaining to the WFF my concern about not letting the future affect the fluff and they greatly helped with showing ways to do that. The first line of the story was something I came up with rather late at night, about the same night I came up with naming the Goldmans' cat 'God Eater' (long story). I had to use it and I thought Marcel would be a good one to do so. I really wanted to show just how awkward and hopeless these two were together - mostly because each of them had never considered they might have to find ways to do boyfriend things when one boyfriend can't really go out in the way. I did my best to compromise that.
Julius’ Disgruntlement: Her name’s Penelope. She prefers Penny The discussion about adopting was something that both of them - Julius and Marcel - found themselves in agreement. They were both capable of looking after another, that had never been in question. Marcel did have the one concern. To Julius it seemed unfounded. But he listened anyway, carefully taking in his partner’s insight.
Marcel was a vampire in a family of vampires. His worry of such things was always at the surface; there were unsaid things in his eyes that Julius was always trying to gently tease out. Julius addressed each concern as he always did, arguing that Marcel’s family was very capable of including humans within those they considered kin. Himself, for one. He had been together with Marcel for a little over a year now, after all. And there were other and had been others in the past. Marcel had rubbed his thumb and forefinger over a place above his eyes, doubt prickling off him. He finally took Julius’ hands and just said, “You put too much trust in me.”
And, like he always did, he left before Julius could say anything to that.
The subject was brought up more times over the course of another several months. Sometimes by Marcel or sometimes in a conversation that naturally turned there. There was really no convincing, really nothing that stated one way or another. It was just talk and they liked to talk. Marcel would cook, often for Julius but sometimes for himself, like he enjoyed to do and Julius would sit at the breakfast table, chatting with him, friendly and easily. It was their thing. What they did in the morning and how they spent it alone together while the others filtered in later that day. Then it was the evening, when they were a family with the rest of the Goldmans.
And then there was Penny. She was almost unavoidable, really. It was just how she was. She worked her way into Marcel and Julius’ life without a seam between them.
“Her name is Penelope. She prefers Penny,” were the words Julius remembered a year later. A bright ball of fire from outside of Morganville that ran everyone ragged. He marked the days of when he could keep her entertained and the days that Marcel would spend her sleepless nights with her. Vampires were good at that sort of thing but he wasn’t so good at convincing Julius to
sleep. Learning and adapting and one day Julius realized she’d become their daughter and he hadn’t even realized. Well, no. He must have realized at some point. A five year old had just worked her way into both his and Marcel's world and her first 'word' to either of them had been something close to a shriek of fear.
Now, here she was, almost six and and the shriek she was giving now was of annoyance. "That's not fair!"
She hardly remembered her original parents. Marcel and Julius got the details, as much as were known. Basically it was as much as Penny did as well. Her parents had died in a car crash outside of Austin when she was two. Her only other living relative, an aunt fifteen years both parents’ senior had died of lung cancer when she was three. Penny only memory of that time was the smell of cigarette smoke. From there foster care had taken over and then ... well, now she was complaining about taking cough syrup even as she also complained of a sore throat.
Marcel was in a chair by the door, rubbing at his ears. The piercing cry of small lungs was, he'd confided in Julius, something he hoped he'd get over. Julius, sitting at the kitchen table, held the plastic container between to fingers while he waited for their daughter to stop complaining. "It isn't going to get any better," he said again. "Unless you do something about it." His voice was firm and he looked pointedly at Penny, placing the container under her nose again.
"It tastes bad!" protested Penny again. Which, Julius admitted she was right. You started to hate grape and cherry into adulthood. But you also wouldn't have a cold, so he supposed it was fair trade.
It took a good five minutes from both of them to stern talk her into taking it, of course. Marcel was much better playing good cop than Julius was and Penny responded better to bribery. (Much to Julius’ annoyance.)
Marcel had to look at him with that semi-amused expression and his one armed hug while Penny tried to down a completely full glass of water. "Better than forcing it down her throat," he murmured in Julius' ear and he had to agree with a small shrug. “Honestly though,” he muttered back. “Lying and offering her a pony is going to come back and bite you.”
Marcel looked offended. “Don’t they have toy ponies? I never said a real one.”
“Well,” said Julius. “That’s why
you’re going to be the one to tell her.”
ORIGIN "Disgruntlement: Her name's Penelope. She prefers Penny": This originally started as the beginning of 'Sorrow' but 1) it got to long and 2) the theme changed drastically once I timeskipped within the story, so I separated them. This was just me wondering a tad bit about Penny's background. Like Samuel she was born within Texas and lived there most of her life. I wanted to show bits and pieces of how she started to think of herself - and how Julius and Marcel started to think of her - as their daughter. Marcel was also rather concerned about having a human for a daughter, so I attempted to add some foreshadowing of his discomfort. But I will state that Penny was a light in his life and he never regretted that she was his daughter.
**Julius’ Sorrow: Two HoursContent warning: reference to depression, suicidal thoughts, and self-hate
(Removed for content. Please see:
docs.google.com/document/d/1EsViLkgsLdDsPbFB3eUEgQT3U54O-m5nEV9rw00Mwwc/edit?usp=sharing )
Julius’ Aggressive: Demon monopoly or being too serious when playing with your childIt had probably been a bad idea to introduce Penny to this game. She had a way about her that made everyone care more about something.
Marcel had deep circles under his eyes. Despite it being four months since he'd become human again, he was still struggling to sleep at night. It had taken a bit of convincing on Julius' part to get him out of the converted garage that they called their bedroom. For what was known, keeping him moving was supposed to be good. Julius wasn't too sure what he thought of that, but Marcel sent him a rather tight smile as he slowly lowered himself to the carpet by the coffee table. Penny, ten years of age at this point, bounce up and down even when she was in a seated position.
“Dad!” She said excitedly, addressing Marcel. “Do ya want the dog?” She held out the metal playing piece. He reached out, taking the piece, and allowing a less forced smile to cross his face. “Thank you Penny.”
He placed it on the board, Julius setting his own down as well, along with Penny’s soon after.
They’d done this more often a year ago. Penny didn't know the exact rules to play, but it was just as fun to watch her try. Her excitement over such a small family game caused both her fathers to smile.
“Do you want to start, Penny?” asked Julius. Penny shook her head. She pointed in Julius’ direction. “You go first.”
So he did, rolling the dice and moving his piece across the board. It always started out innocent and polite. Julius was just happy to see Marcel get into it, like he always did. Julius watched him playfully bump Penny’s shoulder. And then Penny ended up taking all his money and he didn't look so happy anymore. Julius’ had to cover his mouth so as not to grin. Penny could be very good at getting everyone invested. It was hard not to when she got so happy from seeing them play.
Marcel ended up with the most expensive block, setting up a trap for anyone who chance to land on it. Penney, however, seemed to have a great amount of luck in landing on free parking ( which according to house rules, got her any tax or bail money that had been paid in the game). Julius leaned forward, studying the board like he was planning some great conquest of Monopoly. He was losing, however. He ended up doing that a lot when he came to games. Marcel looked across the board of him, grinning spitefully. Julius is latest roll had landed him on Marcel's property. Which basically, at this point, meant he had lost.
Penny was grinning right along with her dad. Julius rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling too. It was fun.
ORIGIN "Aggessive: Demon monopoly": I just wanted to show the family playing a game together. And then showing Marcel after transitioning back into human and how that was going also ended up in there, like Aaron’s “Drawing”. Speaking as someone coming from a family of gamers, I can say this is a fairly accurate weekend.
Aaron’s Entranced: DrawingIt was hard to tell when he’d found himself teaching Penny Goldman. It had probably started with math. She’d been struggling with the worksheets that Marcel had given her and had asked him for help, since he’d been nearby. Slightly stubbornly, he found he had very little patience when it came to her distractions. She was fairly young then. Nine, perhaps, though age in anyone was something he struggled with. He knew his was forever going to be stuck at twelve. That was never going to change. But math hadn’t seemed to change either, and he could keep Penny on track long enough to get the project done. And from there it had snowballed just a bit. How many times had he been sitting at this table, going over different subjects with her for a couple hours a day? It was often around his own work, which could be done completely from home.
On this particular day, he’d gotten bored and started to teach her a foreign language. It wasn’t the first subject he’d added to her work load or switched out with something else that didn’t seem practical. He yawned, pointing to the alphabet again and going over it with Penny. She had a piece of paper and was sketching out the words and letters as he went. She seemed to learn rather well when she did it that way and he nodded along, pleased.
It was about half an hour through this that
she seemed to get bored. He caught her drawing on the paper. He frowned, pointing to what she was doodling. “What’s that?” he asked. His voice wasn’t accusing, it was curious. Penny looked up from what she was doing, appearing a bit guilty. “Sorry Aaron. What did you want to tell me ‘bout that sound? I swear I’m listening now.” Aaron set down his pen, leaning back in the kitchen chair. He shook his head. “No, we can take a break. What were you drawing?”
Penny looked back down at her paper, considering for a little before she told him. “I was drawin’ a dog. Did you want to see?” She held out the piece of paper and Aaron took it, looking over the picture again. He wasn’t very good at defining it as a dog, but he could tell she put a lot of work into it so far. He passed it back. “Not bad,” he said. “Might want to work on the ears.”
Penny scowled at him, though it wasn’t that serious of an expression. “Don’t make my art homework, Aaron,” she said.
He held up his hands, surrendering.
“Can you draw?” Penny asked after a second, not looking up from her drawing. Aaron was fairly sure she’d never asked him that before. He chewed the question over. He didn’t really draw what Penny liked to draw, but his job did feature the use of writing utensils heavily. “Yes, of course I can,” he said.
“I meant can ya draw things like animals?” Penny said, apparently knowing full well what he was thinking of and not considering it worthy.
“I think I can,” Aaron insisted.
Penny held out her paper and her pen. Pencils were hard to come by in the Goldman house. Aaron had some, for his work, but that was about all. It was the stake thing.
He took the piece of paper but let her keep her pen. He had his own.
He was not at all sure what to draw, however. He looked over at Penny for suggestions. “What would you like me to prove my skills with?”
She seemed to think about that for a long time, then said, “Draw a horse.” She seemed amused at her own creativity.
Aaron mused over this but didn’t see the harm. He turned back to the paper.
Something on the paper must have amused her halfway through, because she started to laugh. Aaron stopped, looking over at her, puzzled. “What is it?” he asked. But she hurriedly clammed up and waved her hands at him to continue. Which he did, until he had finished. He noticed several mistakes, but he didn’t think it looked that bad.
“Can I show it to dad?” Penny asked, sounding far too innocent. But Aaron didn’t see how there would be any harm. He passed her back the paper and she jogged to the kitchen door. Only then did she look out the door, shouting, “Daaaaaad!”
Marcel came after a few seconds, eyebrows raised. He was slow, humanly so, looking disgruntled and like he’d rolled out of bed, but considering the paint on his clothing Aaron was sure he’d been painting in the spare room again. Today must have been a good day.
“What is it Penny?” he asked, leaning down. Penny held out the paper. “Aaron drew this. What do you think it looks like?” She still sounded innocent, which was completely fake.
Marcel looked at the picture, seeming puzzled for a second. Then he looked up at Aaron, smiling a bit. And Aaron didn’t even have the satisfaction that he’d heard what they were drawing through the walls. Not since he didn’t have his vampire hearing anymore.
“It’s a very nice potbelly pig, Aaron.”
ORIGIN "Entranced: Drawing": All I wanted to write was something nice and positive. Preferably on all levels, with a twist for laughs. I also haven’t touched much on the year Marcel spent as human. So I wanted to have Penny - a girl who loves to color, Aaron - a vampire who lives off architectural designs, and Marcel - an artist who’s still trying to move through life, all in this story and interacting with each other. It was fun!
**Theo’s Aggressive: Amelie tries to be a friend and fails pretty bad.Content warning: heavy reference to suicide
(Removed for content. Please see:
docs.google.com/document/d/1EsViLkgsLdDsPbFB3eUEgQT3U54O-m5nEV9rw00Mwwc/edit?usp=sharing )
Samuel’s Sun: About his father There wasn’t much that Sam had to complain about in his school. It was .. fair. Generally, he had nothing to say about it other than he liked his friends. They often hung around in the lee of one of the buildings, which was easier than remaining in the heat of the open area which passed for the place they were expected to play. The dead grass and dirt was excuse enough. Texas was just not the place he wanted to get physically active in.
“What did you get in math?” he asked, sounding rather bored as he looked over at the other three. He got equally bored answers. They were probably going to move on to something they took more interest in, but this was almost the ritual now.
It was what he did, passing the time with the other three. He had as long as he’d attended this school and that was more time than he hadn’t. His brother had come here too though he was going to Junior College now in the next town over.
Samuel wasn’t particularly found of the town in general. There wasn’t really enough there. Even his father had to commute to the next town for work. He worked in an office; ‘just another cog in a big machine’ he said. He was just that way. He liked his job, at least, but a lot of Samuel’s mild annoyance was that there was just nothing here. Just a scattering of small towns in the area and that was just adding insult to injury.
He was looking forward to going home, in all honesty. Today had been the usual day, but the call of something other than schoolwork was a good prospect.
He was still at school when they told him. He hadn’t expected his brother to come, much less pull him out of class. He looked up as they waled along the hall, eyebrows knitting together. His brother was fairly tall. Sam only came up to about his mid-arm. But he was short for his age and his brother would never let him forget it. But he didn’t look like he was going to kid around with Sam today.
He squeezed Sam’s shoulder, but it seemed for his own comfort over Sam’s.
“What … ?” Sam started to ask. But his brother didn’t answer until he’d gotten to his car. Then, with his face as even as possible, he explained what had happened.
Sam didn’t listen that far into it. It didn’t matter how. All that mattered was his father wasn’t coming home.
His father had been taking the journey back to town on the bus, which he’d done ever since he’d been working out there. A car had swerved out in front of it and the bus had been unable to stop. The car had been pushed off the road and the bus had tipped when it had tried to swerve out of the way.
Sam didn’t pay attention to details like how, or how it was unfair, or get mad, or even wonder why.
He just cried.
ORIGIN "Sun: About his father": Is this relevant? There’s bits in here which are. A bus I was on almost hit a car once. Closest I’ve ever come to being in an accident in one. The bus would win, let me point out. But the situation above was fairly accurate, particularly since it was on a major street. Er. *cough* Back to the point. Sam had three close friends in school. Don’t remember all the facts and figures, but one was a girl in a grade above him, and then a boy in his grade/age, and also one in a grade above him. I think that’s correct?
Julius’ Heartbroken: Anniversaries withoutA scattering of leaves blew across the road. Hand in his pockets, Julius jaywalked across, looking in both directions before I stepped onto the opposite side walk. His hair blew around his face as he turned in the direction of the small cafe. It was closed, which he wasn't really surprised about. It was too early.
There was a flower bed, above the ground with a brick border around it. He sat on the edge. It was cold. It got colder at night in Morganville, particularly around this time.
He sat there for an hour, until someone inside the building came to the door, looking out. She turn the sign from “Closed” to “Open”, pushing the door ajar. “Julius?” she asks, fumbling his name. “I haven't seen you here in awhile. Did you want some coffee?”
Julia stood and shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. “No. I'm good. Thank you.” He turned before she could ask another question and continue down the street.
+++
The roof was just as cold as the rest of the town, but what did Julius expect from mid-August? it was also a lot harder to get up there now he no longer lived in the building. He leaned against the wall surrounding the staircase. It was slowly getting warmer as the day progressed, but not particularly so. He looked around. Unlike the cafe, there was... Less here. But he could still remember the two times he and Marcel had come up. How awkward they had been, not at all sure what to do or how to act.
His hand covered his mouth, an aching sad smile showing to his eyes. Like at the cafe, he paused only for seconds up there, then moved on. There were things he couldn't do with Marcel anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't spend this day - of all days - remembering him.
+ + +
The converted garage was almost completely empty of any sort of furniture. The curtains were even stripped from the windows, meaning that if a vampire wanted to enter it would have to be at night. There was the wardrobe, empty; and there was the bed, stripped of all but the mattress; and a lamp. There had used to be a lot more, but either it had moved to Julius' new room or it was gone. The day had passed by with little pomp or vigor. It was almost time for dinner. Julius was almost too distracted to think about it.
There was a noise by the door. He turned, looking at it, and saw Penny. She hadn't been in this room in a long time and even now she was just sitting on the top step. Julius walked over, crouching down. Her arms wrapped around his neck. “I miss Dad,” she whispered in his ear. He rubbed at her back.
“I miss him too.”
ORIGIN "Heartbroken: Anniversaries without": It’s another one of those sad stories. Er, I wanted to show one of Julius and Marcel’s spots for dating. If anyone cared or wondered, it was Julius who proposed to Marcel and it happened in that cafe. So, like, they know their names. They went there for over a year pretty steadily. But fitting those facts into the story wasn’t really going to happen. Then there are was the roof from one of the previous stories.
Myrnin’s Midnight snacks: “Your morning isn’t mine.”A vampire's morning was whatever they wanted it to be. It was
easier and more logical to sleep during the day. No sun and no nosy people. It was common sense. But some vampires needed to be up during daylight hours, so that's what they did. Like a human, they were naturally set to prefer one over the other (though, in this case, night) but they could just as easily run around in one time as in the other. Figuratively speaking. Most of the young ones would get burned dur -
"Myrnin," cut in a voice. It was the first time he'd heard it, he was sure, but from how frustrated it sounded they'd probably said it a dozen times. "Though that is
fascinating... It doesn't mean a thing. It's still three in the morning and I still have somewhere to be. And it isn't at the lab, if you remember." Myrnin pouted, staring at the phone like he could see Claire on the other end of it.
"That's hardly an excuse, Claire," he complained.
"Actually," said a new voice. Male this time. "It's a perfect excuse. Get the hell of the phone, Myrnin. Before I go over there and make sure you can never make a call from it again."
"That's hardly a decent threat, Shame!" said Myrnin indignantly.
"Sue me; it's late," said Shane before hanging up so Myrnin couldn't get the last word in.
Looking downcast, the vampire glanced around his lonely lab. No one here to pester but Bob, the pet spider. It wasn't like he got visitors. There was Frank, but he'd rather talk to himself than Frank the as-close-to-Artificial-Intelligence Morganville got. When Frank was far closer to being living than machine. Still, that left his "morning" boringly free.
He fed Bob, which wasn't that hard, since he'd gotten out again and could feed himself pretty well. Feeding Frank was a fair enough option (yes, the computer ate ... in a sense) but he'd already done it and repeating things wasn't something he was doing today at least. Reading was an option ... if he got bored. It was an interesting concept, boredom ... He didn't experience it that often.
Instead of waiting around for something to happen, he clambered up the stairs and out of his lab. He did enjoy wondering Morganville. Old habits never died.
Going wherever had never failed him before, but ending up in front of the dark and empty windows of Common Grounds was a bit disheartening.
He'd been hoping for something entertaining. He pressed his nose into the glass, maybe to see if closer inspection would change the 'closed' sign into 'open'. It did not, though Myrnin couldn't say he cared one way or the other.
He was about to turn away when he caught sight of the familiar salt-and-pepper hair through the glass. Wildly, he waved at Oliver, trying to get his attention. The other vampire ignored him for as long as possible before he opened the door, lock clicking loudly and pointedly.
Oliver didn't look like he wanted Myrnin inside, but it was better than him being out there and gawking. "What is it?" he asked, frowning.
"Can I have food?" asked Myrnin, eyes wide and hoping. He looked lonely and bored enough for Oliver. Oliver glanced over him and then deadpanned, "I don't feed strays." Which left Myrnin frowning, but Oliver didn't seem to care.
"Come oooooooooon, Olly," said Myrnin again. "I have nothing to do."
"Hardly my fault," said Oliver, moving behind the counter and beginning to wipe it down. "You should have thought of what would happen when you decided to stay up at random hours."
"I didn't want to sleep!" pouted Myrnin, waving his hands.
"So I noticed," muttered Oliver. He pointed to the back room. "Fine. Go get yourself something. But -"
Myrnin was gone before Oliver got to say more.
He was back at one of the tables a minute later, a cup in hand, and Oliver staring at him darkly. But he said nothing before going back to cleaning.
It was opening time when Eve, Claire's housemate, walked in. Her first sight was Myrnin, sitting in one of the front booths, fast asleep with a plastic coffee cup cradled in his hands. She only called Claire about him after Oliver had glared at her for a good ten minutes. Neither of them seemed directly inclined to wake him.
"Claire," she said when Claire picked up. "I'm throwing you under the bus to come wake him up." She paused. "But I'm also sending you a picture. He looks pretty cute."
ORIGIN "Midnight snacks: “Your morning isn’t mine.”: Someone wanted to know Myrnin’s daily routine. Mostly, that’s just bugging people. But it’s also about the fact that his sleep schedule is very messed up. And I wanted to show that a bit near the end.
Myrnin’s
Disgruntlement:
“It’ll be fun!”Myrnin only seemed to have free time. If Amelie didn’t have a job for him that was. She didn’t this time, but he could supply his own fun. It was just a matter of finding someone to rope into the fun.
By nature, Myrnin should have been a loner, but natures could change. In this case, he found a certain pleasure in annoying others with his wants or perhaps the occasional time when they actually enjoyed whatever he was pulling them into. In this case, the current victim - or was friend a better word? - was Eve.
It was easy to tell the eccentric vampire wanted something when he got her name right.
“Hello, Eve,” he said, walking up to the counter in Common Grounds. She still sometimes worked her part-time, despite the fact she had a ‘real’ job. She enjoyed working there on weekends to get away from the kid. Or that was the pretense that Myrnin heard. Maybe it was less like abandonment in
her head. Though he probably shouldn’t criticize when he wanted to get her to do something for him.
“Hello, Myrnin,” said Eve, looking up at him in surprise when he got her name right. “Did you want something to drink?” She made it sound like she found that unlikely. It sort of was. There wasn’t much Myrnin found in the way of good human drink. Mixing it with blood was tolerable. “I am fine without,” Myrnin said, rather pompously even to his own ears. Eve just shrugged, not exactly noticing. “Suit yourself. What did you want then? You always want something when you come in here. If you want to sleep, I’d suggest at home. But there’s a booth in the back corner if you really must.” She pointed to a dark corner both, which for once didn’t have a vampire in it. Yet.
“Come on,” Myrnin whined. “I only did that once. Or twice. Maybe I just came to visit. Then what?”
Eve stared at him blandly. He was lucky he didn’t have a line behind him.
“You never just want to visit. At least, not when there’s only me around.”
Myrnin slowly nodded. He supposed that was true for the most part. He’d have to change that. He did like Steve, in her sarcastic way. Or maybe it was her clothing. She had a great style choice.
But that aside. “Are you very busy?” he asked innocently. Eve waved around Common Grounds, which was, pardon the pun, dead. “Does it look like I’d be talking to you if I was? I love how weird the conversations can get, don’t get me wrong, but I still have to focus on the job.”
She moved a washcloth absentmindedly over a stubborn stain on the counter. “As entertaining as I’m sure that is,” said Myrnin. “Wouldn’t you enjoy some distraction. Something happening?” His eyes were bright and encouraging. Eve considered for a second. “Was this the same sales pitch you gave Shane when you got him to dig up that grave with the tim-” She cut herself off. While Common Grounds was quiet there could still be a few bored vampires - other than Myrnin - around.
“No!” said Myrnin dryly. “Shame is far easier to convince than that. I just offered him money.” He tapped a finger along the counter. “I could try the same for you?” He sounded hopeful.
“Only if you can bribe Oliver too,” said Eve. “There isn’t anyone else around to cover for me - other than him. And he just got off his shift. As it were.” Myrnin frowned at the back door. That was inconvenient. “What would you have been planning anyway?” asked Eve, mildly interested. “I doubt there are any more prime grave robbing places.”
Myrnin chewed on his lip. Eve looked at him, suddenly suspicious. “Oh, come on Myrnin. You aren’t serious?”
“It would be fun though,” pointed out Myrnin as innocently as he could. Eve kept up the stern expression for another few seconds before she had to laugh. “You never change, do you?”
Myrnin seemed to consider this for a second. “No. Not when it comes down to it.”
Eve had succeeded in wiping out the clinging stain and someone had just walked into the cafe. Probably the start of the University Lunch Flood.
“Rain check on that grave robbing, Myrnin,” she said with an amused roll of her eyes. “If you hang around, I’ll send a free coffee your way - yah, yah … no AB blood type.”
Myrnin shrugged. He had nothing better to do. “Alright Steve.” He headed for the booth she’d indicated before.
About an hour later, Eve sent a picture to Claire, who had been out of town. Myrnin, asleep in the booth again. There was a caption to it as well. “I was stood-up to a grave robbing expedition. Someone needs to teach your boss how to get to bed on time.”
ORIGIN "Disgruntlement: ‘It’ll be fun!’”: One of the stories which takes place before Samuel. Actually, this is only a couple days before Samuel turns up, if you wanted exact timelines. Only I probably will catch the Easter Egg, but I mention Claire isn’t there and this is mentioned in an RP pretty soon before Samuel makes an appearance. The mention of Shane grave robbing is from a short story - official - by Rachel Caine. The short and the long of it is just what was said in this. Shane and Myrnin rob a grave to get his time machine. This story was just a by-product of someone wanting to know a classic day in the life of Myrnin.
Theo’s
Disgruntlement:
Jason Parker“Well!” sneered the vampire. Theo blinked, rather confused where that was coming from. He didn’t respond, since it seemed unlikely he was being addressed. But this proved to be an incorrect assumption, since a second later the same vampire was getting in his face. “Did you hear me?”
“I did,” assured Theo, tilting his head back to avoid the other man’s breath. “But I am unsure why …?”
“This is your place, right?” said the vampire, waving a hand around to indicate the office. Theo frowned. “It is, but II still do not see …”
The vampire’s hand was around his throat before he could do much about it, knocking over the cup Theo had on the desk. Theo’s hand scrabbled just a bit, but at least he could still talk, with difficulty. “What?”
“Don’t pretend!” spat the other vampire, squeezing just a little. Theo wasn’t very good at fighting, but this just seemed to be a vampire who wanted to talk. Against most odds, it just seemed to be a violent way of showing it.
“If I knew what you wanted,” he said, trying to get enough breath into him to speak. “I could pretend better.”
The other vampire’s fangs were unsheathed and Theo was equally relieved and daunted by the fact there was currently no one around.
“You!” said the vampire. “Killed my wife!”
Theo wet his lips, images of the few people he had killed flashing through his mind. “I …” he choked out. “Am sure I haven’t” Fairly sure. Not unless this vampire was about three hundred years late.
The vampire looked confused, but at least loosened his grip enough for Theo to talk.
“Thank you,” muttered Theo. “You spilled my drink. But that aside,
who killed your wife? I’m assuming you aren’t attacking me at random.”
The vampire looked a bit awkward for a second, then got some resolve back. “No! It was you. It had to be!”
So … thought Theo. As good as at random. “What?” he asked. “Did you have m name?” Knew I was a doctor? Something else?”
“You’re Pennyfeather!” hissed the vampire. Theo looked blank, trying to place the name. Pennyfeather. The name sounded familiar, just a little. Finally …
“The witch-finder?” said Theo, shocked. “Have you *met* them? They are as far from me as you can get!”
The vampire relinquished his grip, but hesitantly. “What?”
Theo sighed, getting to his feet and trying to mop up what had dripped from his coffee container. “You’re a bit late. They’re already dead.” He looked at the man, eyebrows rising. “You may be late, but I’m sure Amelie can validate that I am Theo Goldman.” The man sat down in one of the chairs in the room, looking drained. “But …”
“You’re from Blackwell?” checked Theo, putting a couple pieces together. “I’m assuming Pennyfeather - or whatever name they were using at the time - was the one who changed you? And your wife … ?”
“Didn’t make the transition,” finished the man in a murmur. Theo’s heart fell. “I’m so sorry.” He moved around the desk, hesitantly resting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “What’s your name? If I can ask?”
The man hesitated, but finally answered, “I’m called Jason Parker.”
ORIGIN "Disgruntlement: Jason Parker": He’s important. Take note. He’ll be back. Also, by the time you’ve made it here, you should have read the previous book, The Immortal Rules. Otherwise, the skip between the last Samuel story and this next Samuel story isn’t going to make any sense.
Samuel’s
Mad:
ArgumentsSamuel slept on the couch when staying in Myrnin’s lab. He considered the underground ‘his’ now, but he still slept up here sometimes.
In this case, he wished he hadn’t. The one clear thing was this … Myrnin was mad. Insane. But he was the sort of mad that, for the most part, you got with really smart people. When he was arguing with Frank at four in the morning, Sam didn’t appreciate the genius.
He lifted his head, groggy to hear the argument from the kitchen. Grabbing the blanket and putting it over his shoulders, Sam shuffled in the direction of the kitchen and stuck his head around the corner.
“And,” said Myrnin. “If you don’t turn on the microwave, I’ll reprogram your Sudoku.”
“You think I actually play it?” sneered Frank. More threats were exchanged while Sam vaguely stood there, mostly trying to think up something to say.
“Frank,” he asked drowsily after a pause. “Myrnin …” Myrnin turned to look at him and Sam hoped Frank was paying attention too.
“Please can I sleep?” he asked.
Myrnin looked guilty for a little before pointing up. “Frank did it.” Samuel just let an eyebrow arch.
“Well,” said Frank’s disembodied voice after another pause. “I’ll be the bigger man than you, bloodsucker.” Power seemed returned to the microwave, even as Myrnin muttered something about Frank being a bloodsucker too
Samuel frowned at him, which shut him up. He returned to the microwave and Sam returned to bed.
ORIGIN "Mad: Arguments": I was tired of writing sad stories, so this is possibly the most filler story in this whole fic. The only interesting point of note would be that Frank would rather listen to Sam than to Myrnin.
Julius’
Whimsical:
GiftIt was hard picking out birthday presents for Penny. Julius wandered down the rows of shelves, looking at the different boxes full of potentially enjoyable toys with a critical eye of someone who didn’t have a clue. He poked a hesitant finger at a ‘press here’ button and was underwhelmed when all that happened was the toy blinked its wide eyes. He didn’t think she’d care for a stuffed animal very long anyway. She was the sort to enjoy a toy that was active. Which was where he hit the snag.
“Can I help you?” asked a voice to his left and Julius nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d been too deep in thought to really hear the clerk approach.
“Yes, sorry,” he said, completely turning to he was facing her. “I was looking for something my daughter might enjoy, but I couldn’t find anything that really suits her style.” He tried not to look embarrassed or abashed. The clerk considered this for a second and then said, “Have you checked the display in the front? Sometimes we have a more diverse selection there.”
Blinking, Julius thanked her and directed himself to where she had described. The toys were mostly the same items that had been in the original aisle. It seemed almost pointless to look, but Julius did just that. He had no luck. Nothing seemed right and, guiltily, nothing looked like it would make up for his extended absence this time. He chewed at his lip as he exited the store. Perhaps just trying to get their early would be good enough, but that was the guilt talking again. He warily edged around the feeling and opened the door to his rented car.
The drive back to the hotel was short and the shower he took was long. Neither of these things helped his mood, nor did the faint background noise of the TV. The outside world was always so different from Morganville. It was a small town, so he of course reasoned that it would be. The slight nervousness of leaving its borders never really left him. He knew that if Amelie didn’t have standing permission for him to be outside than one thing and one thing only would happen. He’d heard stories …
The border made you forget everything about the town. It was always a tense affair leaving the town. He spent a day afterward going over and over in his head the directions on how to get back, the names of his husband and daughter and Theo and the rest, his friends and where he went to work while he lived there. Everything and especially the vampires. It was a constant fear that he’d forget them. Worse. That he’d *remember* he had a daughter but not remember the way back to the town he’d left her in. When the time came for him to go back he always relaxed just a little. He enjoyed the quiet peace of working away from home every now and again but after a month it started to wear at him. Sometimes dealing with angry vampires was easier than some of the idiots in the rest of the world.
ORIGIN "Whimsical: Gift": This was writing practice waaaaay back when Julius was just a twinkle in my eye. One of the times when he was also guilt-tripping himself over not getting his daughter a gift - and expressing his fear of forgetting her. If I have my way, that’ll come up.
Aaron’s
Midnight snacks:
Late Night Shopping There was little need to shop when your whole family are vampires. While that statement was completely true it wasn't true
now. Not for the Goldmans.And there was Aaron, walking along the sidewalk, doing the unthinkable for the rest of his species.
Sometimes it was hard for vampires to move from time period to time period. They would get stuck in their favorite century and dress like they were still from it. And possibly act like it too. It was different for the Goldmans. They tethered themselves to people and because of that they found themselves moving through the centuries without the same ideals as some of their species. The difference was they always lost. Cynical as the thought process was Aaron was always mindful of the fact that they
lost too many people. William ...
He shook that thought away, blinking several times. Yeah, well, sometimes it was worth it. Sometimes it didn't hurt so much, watching them live to old age and maybe move away from them and maybe not. William just hurt more because he hadn't gotten a chance to. William just hurt because Aaron knew he shouldn't have died at all.
Aaron couldn't drive but walking around in Morganville wasn't exactly a hassall. He did keep a wary eye out for anyone. Even among vampires he always got a sense he was just a bit
less. Maybe because he didn't get a car. Too short to reach the pedals and unable to see over the dash. He smiled at that ridiculous thought.
Turning right his mind jumped back to the fact that they had more mortals hanging around than usual. Julius, and Penny, and the other two, and that blasted man that kept pushing Aaron's buttons and his son. Though he supposed that a couple conditions couldn't really apply to the latter two. Family wasn't supposed to be that much of a pest.
"How quickly," he said to himself with a sigh. "You forget that you hate most of your cousins." Another corner turned and he scrubbed a hand through his hair.
And people had to eat. That was the thing that had Aaron out of the house. His hands were shoved into his jeans pockets and trodding the familiar path. There wasn’t much of interest to keep his mind occupied so of course it trailed along the same furrow of concern. It was a hard to understand why someone left the house at all. He walked under the occasional street light, though wasn’t too surprised to see they flickered. Bulbs were often dying and just never getting replaced. Welcome to Morganville. The people that were out at night didn’t need the lights.
But there was a couple places which kept their lights on, of course. As he rounded the last corner and entered the part of Morganville that catered to the night-inclined patrons he looked at the sign over the door. Walking in, he sighed as his eyes stung, adjusting to the intrusion of light. Morganville didn’t have a Walmart, or Target, or any large all-purpose store. It made up for that with a lot of small places scattered around the center of town and around the University. In the day it probably had several college students in it, marvelling at the DVD rack or at the clothing near the corner. At this time of night there probably wasn’t much call for the little refrigerated section. But that’s where Aaron went, looking over the shelves by it. You got good at this over time. Buying for others when they didn’t buy for themselves. Julius
never remembered when the soup ran out or something annoying like that. And it was running out faster than it usually did. Nothing to be done about that. He just wished Julius would tell him such things sooner. The rest of the family seemed to remember or got their own food but it was Julius who noticed that everything was getting low.
“Too many mouths,” Aaron muttered to himself as he looked over the ingredients on a can of something. He was hyper aware that he looked out of place. But he got that and several other things and dug out his wallet as he walked back to the front.
But it was as if the universe wanted to pick on him.
“Oh,” he heard a voice behind him. He didn’t think it was addressing him, so he didn’t think about it. Instead he just worked some change out of the back of the wallet.
“Look who it is,” said the voice. After a second of frowning down at the change Aaron recognized it. He turned and looked back at Jason.
“Was there something you wanted?” he asked, in what he thought was a polite voice. Though his eyes probably didn’t send the same message.
“No, no,” said Jason, hands in his pockets. He was smiling. “Just wondering why you were buying donuts. Suddenly decided you want to go back to being a breather?”
Aaron arched an eyebrow, dropping the cash on the counter and turning back to get a receipt. He didn’t rise to the all too obvious bait. Jason wasn’t worth his time and sparing with him in any form would be a waste of time.
Taking his items in the bag provided he turned to head for the door. Then, Jason said behind him, “Oh, wait, I forgot that your grandfather was such a second-rate vampire that he has to hang around humans just to feel useful.”
Ah. So that was how this was going to go.
Carefully placing the bag of food on the floor, Aaron turned to look Jason Rosser over. Taller than him, of course. Hair that style so ‘cool’ these days and a shirt from some band. Jason was an adult but only just. By all accounts, he was a new enough vampire that he probably didn’t understand that physical age really meant very little to the age taken within the head.
“If you had a problem with Theo Goldman than I would take it up with him. I never see complaints about his treatments. If the point was to be the biggest set of fangs in Morganville than I don’t believe you’ve gone past the mutts.”
The cashier, probably used to worse than this since she was a vampire herself, said, “If there’s gonna be a fight take it outside.” She sounded bored.
Aaron turned around, picking up the bag again, and heading for the glass doors. Jason needed a parting shot, however. Aaron had hit a nerve. “You’re hardly vampires at all, though, are you? Hanging out with humans. That’s not a vampire. In fact, I don’t even know what that is. They live in your house and you don’t even feed from them. They certainly aren’t your pets. After all …
Marrying them and then offing yourself because you couldn’t be one of them …”
Aaron had frozen. Anger prickled up and down his spine but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to low blows like that. But there was a hierarchy. Jason was something off to the side. He could be very powerful if he made his way into the system. He wasn’t … he wasn’t
wrong that Theo wasn’t powerful. But that didn’t mean Aaron wasn’t. And that was the mistake. Because after a certain amount of time Aaron really did have to do something.
He grabbed Jason’s collar so fast that the younger vampire probably only just saw his hand. The thing was you needed make the point and do it without breaking any of Aaron’s own rules. He tossed Jason away within the same movement of the grab and did it light enough that the man just stumbled backwards through the doors instead of outright breaking them. He caught his balance as Aaron pushed his way after him. “Was that your best?” he sneered.
“Of course it wasn’t,” said Aaron, scowling at him. “I was just raised to not bully children.” And he wasn’t referring to Jason’s attack on him but was instead referring to the fact that Jason was more than nine-thousand-five-hundred years his junior. “Your parents never taught you to respect your elders. I wanted to leave you with all your motor functions so they still had a chance to.”
Then he turned and continued to walk back along the street. Jason’s fangs had come out and turning his back was an insult itself. It was showing Jason that Aaron didn’t find him worth the time.
“You cowardly, breather-loving, little -” he started to say.
Aaron wagged a finger at him over his shoulder. “No, no. Not like that.” He hardly looked back at all. “Of course I love them. Why would I still be in the same house if I did not? You will have to work on feathering that arrow, Rosser. It’s not going to fly true. But you see there is a bit of a difference between loving humans and caring about my family. It has nothing to do with loving
humans, which is where you made the mistake. I like some humans, as your master, Oliver, does. I do not
like all of my family. And for good reason. But I do love and care about them. I’m going back to them.” He was walking backwards now and lifted the shopping bag in empathise. He pointed dismissively at Jason. “As for you, there’s another matter. You, the vampire created most recently, have already grown so far away from them that you can’t remember what family is like. My, my. To be a ‘real’ vampire. Wouldn’t want to be that. How lonely that must be. Waiting to ambush people in the night just to have a decent fight.” He turned completely around, almost whistling. Jason had stopped stalking from shadow to shadow as he followed him. Maybe he’d just gotten bored.
Aaron sighed up at the stars.
And that, he thought.
Was why we continue to attach ourselves to humans. As if I needed a reminder on how cold and foolish some of our kind can get.Holding the bag over his shoulder he walked home. Where the lights would still be on and the kitchen still in use. And where in a couple hours he’d wake up to some of the humans going to work and spend part of his day tutoring Penny. They’d all be dead before he could blink his eyes. He knew that so much it hurt. But he also had a patchwork of memories already behind him, reminding him that most of it was worth it. Maybe the Goldmans weren’t vampires by Morganville definition. But Aaron was fine with that. That didn’t make them weak. That made them stronger than anyone else.
ORIGIN "Midnight snacks: Late Night Shopping": Prompts like these can be taken anywhere. But in this case I addressed some of the stigma related to co-human/vampire families. Also, I brought a familiar face of Jason up. Jason is a charge of Oliver, the second most powerful vampire in Morganville. Jason is also a complete jerk. I wanted to show Aaron being better than him, despite also being a pretty big jerk himself. In this case I also referenced several deaths within the Goldman family and how much of a jerk Jason is because he can grow something against humans in seven years flat and it's disgusting. That aside, I liked showing Aaron being strong in more ways than one, going against what Jason thinks of him.
Myrnin’s
Embarrassment:
Failed ExperimentsIt was a rather uncomfortable position. That’s what came from dangling by part of your shoe above a rather large pit. There was a very strong reason why he didn’t pull himself out. He was holding onto Lady Grey’s wrist. Which wouldn’t have been much of a problem, if she had actually been conscious enough to do something about it. She was a resourceful woman and an amazing vampire. She wouldn’t have been swinging by her bootstraps over her own trapped tunnel and trying to work out how to get out alive without dropping her significant other. She would have already found a way, often without thinking. He was the brains and didn’t exactly have enough dexterity to pull this stunt off. It was hard enough to put a vampire out as much as Lady Grey was. It almost needed a stake through the heart, which, at least, was not the cause. But then, it would have been quicker to recover from that one.
He felt the ground his foot was hooked on crumble a bit more. He cursed in his head, because even breathing would probably send them both over the edge. And even he didn’t know how deep this thing was. He’d seen better vampires than him fall down holes like this. And if they hadn’t died on impact with whatever floor was down there, then they’d wished they had.
He shook that thought off. He’d been in worse situations and certainly more uncomfortable ones than this. He just needed to work his way out of this and all would be just grand.
The question, really. was how he’d gotten here, wasn’t it? That was a big part of the whole problem.
+++
“I don’t really think this is a good idea,” said Myrnin. “I’m not really a … people person.” He waved his hands around a bit, as if illustrating how incompetent he was.
Lady Grey looked at him kindly, which was really how she always looked at him, but also firmly. “That’s an age-old excuse, Myrnin. And while sometimes true, I think it’s time you tried.”
Myrnin shifted, clearly uncomfortable. He was wearing old, beat up shoes with matching jeans, complete with holes in the knees. The shirt, in contrast, was the closest thing that Morganville got to designer. Eve had gotten it for him, about a year back. She knew what he like when it came to clothing: just about anything.
Lady Grey, on the other hand, looked a bit more presentable. Which was a change of pace, because she usually was very good at dressing in modern around the house wear. Which would have been as suitable as you could get, considering they were still home. Or Myrnin’s home at least. Lady Grey was a bit more … flighty to really consider anywhere home. Myrnin supposed other people were more of a home to her then anything. Which was a lovely analogy if it wasn’t being used against him.
She actually wanted him to go out.
Not on a date, or whatever the teenage mortals called it. They could do that without all the formalities and rather odd names. What she wanted was for him to go outside, which was, frankly, a bit more daunting than the idea of some lukewarm blood over at Common Grounds. The closest thing they could get to a lunch date.
“Amelie requested your presence,” Lady Grey repeated, infinite patience in her voice. “I don’t think there will be a lot of people.”
Amelie and Lady Grey in the same room together really would be a sight. They only got along when they were trying to get
him to do something. Which made it all a bit more serious that they should go, but Myrnin still shifted around and looked anxiously at the back of the room. Contemplating hiding.
“Not … a good day today, Lady Grey.” Which it wasn’t. At least he could identify it as such. That was fairly easy to do, since there was a rather lot of smoke coming from the machine behind him. Lady Grey crossed her arms. “And?” she asked.
Myrnin completely turned, edging with slow steps in the direction of the far table. “And I have to take care of some things here so I reallyshouldbe-“
Lady Grey’s hand cut him off. She didn’t actually touch him, which he was grateful for. She knew by now he didn’t like surprise contact. But still … his getaway hadn’t really gone well.
She stepped back in front of him, smiling. “It will keep, Myrnin.”
He sighed, rather deeply, before nodding. “I suppose it would.” He wasn’t that sure, but he’d destroyed the lab several times before. It would be fine.
“Very well. But I don’t like these little get-togethers. Even scheduled ones.”
He linked his arm with Lady Grey’s, heading up the stairs slowly.
Behind him, the machine smoked.
Two hours later, it exploded, taking out the roof, floor, and part of the wall. But mostly the floor.
+++
“And I think it would be best if you took a look at it,” said Amelie, in a voice that said that Myrnin didn’t have any choice at all but phrased in a way that made him think that he did.
“I wouldn’t particularly like to, so no thank you,” he said innocently. Lady Grey made no comment, which was what he’d expected. She didn’t care what he did, but she remained by his side regardless. Amelie and Morganville, while the latter contained her … boyfriend, did not mean enough to her for there to be anything in helping.
“You are the one who created them, Myrnin,” said Amelie. “I shall not be the one to deal with them. Do you understand?”
It was, if it had actually had any emotion in the words, the sort of tone she might have taken with a slightly misbehaved child who’d left his toys out. Now, after the fifth time she’d asked for him to do something about them, she was threatening to throw them away if he didn’t pick them up.
Myrnin didn’t particularly care if that was how she addressed him. He supposed it was rather accurate. Only instead of five times it was closer to five hundred and over a period of about a hundred years. He could see why she was finally putting her foot down.
“They really aren’t that bad,” he said hesitantly.
“They tend to eat humans, Myrnin,” Amelie said flatly. Myrnin tilted his head, as if he was searching for some counter argument. He couldn’t find one.
“I’m not asking you to do anything drastic,” Amelie said after she noticed the panicked expression his face was morphing into. “I understand that you might … care for them.”
Sort of. It was a little hard to explain what he thought of … ‘them’. Possibly a cross between annoying bugs, over attached pets, and whinny children. Some of which could be tolerable at certain points in time and others … less so.
“Very well, Amelie,” he said after a second, bowing at the waste. It was at least an excuse to get out of her stuffy, white office. Presentable clothing aside, it made him feel like the world had been white-washed and tempted him to take a box of paints to her favorite chair.
Both his and Lady Grey’s shoes clicked along the hallway outside. Showing that they either didn’t care about what had just happened or that Myrnin had somehow nonverbally convinced Lady Grey that this human habit of making excessive noise when walking was a good idea. Either way, he took delight in practically skipping down the hall, which was a very different reaction to the resigned one he’d had going in with. Lady Grey kept up, of course, with no hitch in her step. After about five minutes, Myrnin slowed down enough that he could, slightly blushing, grab her hand. “Did you wish to help me, my Lady? I would be very grateful.”
Lady Grey’s lip twitched in an amused smile. Her thump traced the back of Myrnin’s hand as he looked up at her. “Yes, Myrnin.” She almost laughed. He didn’t find the task particularly amusing, but the situation was a bit fun. It had been a long time since he and Lady Grey were working on a common task. It had been a long time since he’d
seen her. She came and went. Sometimes for a month … in the past seven years, since the Daylight Foundation, the longest she’d been away was a year. But that didn’t mean that her stays were in any way lengthy. He missed her. Sometimes he didn’t know how much he should miss her, but he
did always miss her all the same. Having her by his side, even for such a rudimentary business of cleaning up his old messes, was … fun.
And then one of the dratted vampires they were passing snickered and Myrnin’s hand dropped away from Lady Grey’s. He looked up at the ceiling as they continued walking, as if the steal and electric lighting was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
He knew Lady Grey was annoyed. At the vampire that had laughed, of course. There were some old-fashioned ideas and more then that … well … Lady Grey was not the most respected ex-queen in Morganville. Scorned, in some circles. And he? Well … there wasn’t a vampire in Morganville who didn’t know who he was and hadn’t formed one assumption or another. From the brief look of the vampire they’d passed, that particular one had been in the younger crowd. Maybe just before Morganville was created. Myrnin could then assume that the hand holding hadn’t been ‘proper’, at least not for their kind. Humans? What could you do about them? They did far more than that and in far more public places. He waved a hand at the wall on the far end of the hallway, a silvery sheen fizzling into existence on the wall. In a fit of spiteful defiance, he wrapped an arm around Lady Grey’s waste before ducking through Frank’s portal with her.
Frank had the same startling ability to want to make Myrnin’s life a living hell as usual.
He dropped both Myrnin and Lady Grey exactly where they wanted to go … and exactly where they didn’t.
The tunnels were dark. Any human wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. It was just the nature of the Morganville-underground. It wasn’t made for humans. Part of it, the part around Myrnin’s lab, which was where they were, wasn’t made for vampires either. At least, no vampire other than Myrnin. There were traps, there was a maze-like area that no one could really find their way through, but most of all, what stopped unwelcome visitors, were the … experiments.
It was hard to call them vampires. They were pale, hairless things who skulked in the dark. The slightest bit of light would hurt them, and they were ten times weaker to anything else that would harm a vampire. But physically they were just as strong. Their fingers were hooked claws, eyes adept for night vision, and fangs always out. These were the lesser known secrets of Myrnin. For lack of a better word, they were … his. He’d changed them or tried to. Back when vampires had been infected by Bishop’s self-made disease which had reduced all vampires unable to reproduce and slowly descending into madness. Myrnin a bit further than the others. He was no longer sure whether these were the product of his sanity or irrationality. Though it no longer really mattered. They existed. He couldn’t unmake them.
They also were a bit testy toward anyone who wasn’t him. Frank had at least been decent enough to provide him and Lady Grey with a wall. Myrnin put himself between her and them, holding up his arms. He looked protective, but also placating. “Calm down,” he said gently. “Calm down.” He looked over all of them as they stalked forward. There’d used to be about twenty, but it appeared as if there were only twelve or so left. He didn’t like that. Down here was … safer for them than it was up there. But the priority really was those up there, because unlike him, these ‘vampires’ didn’t have a sense of self. Nor did they have any resistance to bloodlust. Always hungry. But at least there was one correct idea in all this mess. They wouldn’t eat him.
Lady Grey … well … she knew about them. She had met them before. Several times. She was capable of overcoming what may happen.
They sniffed at him, hesitant and searching. He did his best to move slowly. It was like walking around wild animals. They recognized him as a sort of parent, but that didn’t mean he could bring guests. It rather depended on the ‘pack’ mood.
He wasn’t sure what Amelie expected him to do with them. He wasn’t going to kill them. She at least knew him well enough that she didn’t expect him to do that. But she had said ‘look’, not ‘do’. He was expected to do something, he at least knew that, but probably not at once. On-the-job brainstorming. He didn’t appreciate it.
He looked them over. They certainly didn’t have names. Individually, they were completely identical. They’d been human. They weren’t now. That was really all there was too it. A couple looked a little hurt, maybe they’d had a tussle with one another. They at least seemed to be in a descent enough mood that they weren’t making an all fronts attack to try and get Lady Grey. They were practically blind, truth be told. Even in this much darkness, vampires saw more with their other senses than they did with sight. Down here, it didn’t matter as much. Which was why a lot of his traps had revolved around things that could only be spotted with sight.
He kept himself pressed against Lady Grey, but they were all starting to calm down by now. They weren’t very intelligent either, but even basic lifeforms learned to give up after they’d gently but firmly been tossed across the room a couple of times.
Myrnin sighed. Very, very carefully he took a step forward, exposing Lady Grey ever so slightly. There was once again a frenzy of attempts to attack her, but as before, Myrnin repeated the process of making himself a wall between them. They wouldn’t attack him.
It took a little time, but soon they were keeping to the wary background while Lady Grey smoothed her ruffled hair and stood beside Myrnin. She looked around. “Any regrets?” she finally questioned.
Myrnin tilted his head, not completely understanding the question. “About them?”
“Yes. I’m doubtful Claire or your other human friends approve.”
Myrnin didn’t look at her, but that was just because he was keeping an eye on the pale figures that clung to the edges of the darkness. “I know they wouldn’t. But there isn’t much I can do about that. What happened happened. I can’t go back.” It wasn’t really an answer, but it was the only thing he had. He’d done things in the past that he wouldn’t do now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see why they had been done. But that aside, he wasn’t brooding on that.
“I believe that there may be a slight problem,” he said after a while.
“What?” questioned Lady Grey.
“I don’t think I know what to do with them. Or for them. As the case may be. Amelie wants something done, which is all well and good … but I can hardly lock them up further. They can’t get into the above world as it is. Moonlight would give them third-degree burns at this point. I think they’re falling into the holes around here too. I mean,” he pointed a finger around. “There are almost ten missing, by my count. So down here isn’t exactly safe either. But they only listen to me.”
Lady Grey cast a look over her shoulder at him. Myrnin met her eyes for the briefest of moments but was careful to stay vigilant of what was going on around them.
“You’ll figure some-” Lady Grey started.
Vampires can only dodge what they can expect. An explosion directly over their heads, without warning rumble or falling debris, was not something on the watch list.
The roof collapsed, shrapnel the first to go, banging into the walls and into anything in between. The … creatures were near the walls, avoiding the bulk of the falling wreckage, though one was buried as a wall collapsed onto it. Myrnin and Lady Grey, however, got the brunt of the falling masonry. Which would have caused them both headaches if that had been as far as everything was going to fall. But Myrnin’s lab was built on weak stone and a weaker tunnel system. There were … gaps … everywhere. Perfect for boring holes into the underground of the town. Horrible if you dug
too deep. The floor of the tunnel, buried in the floor of Myrnin’s lab, cracked dangerously.
Then collapsed.
+++
And now everything was back where it had started, with Myrnin hanging upside down, not pleased, and a stunned Lady Grey directly under him. Unfortunately, the creatures that liked the darkness more than anything else, were not getting the memo to stay still. They weren’t smart enough for that. Getting away from the still functional electric lighting in the lab, directly above, was their main goal. If that meant scrabbling over one another, then that was fine. The rock under Myrnin’s shoe crumbled again, sending a few pebbles bouncing down the side before falling into empty space. Myrnin strained his hearing. But he never heard them hit the ground.
The problem was still there, staring back at him as only a dark hole in the ground could. Noise above him persisted, which he found a bit unreasonable. Hadn’t everyone cleared out yet? Then at least there wouldn’t be too much concern of any of them dying.
Out of the corner of his eyes, which was as far as he could look without turning his head, something moved at great speed. There was the sound of flesh hitting into stone, a guttural scream, and the sound of cracking rock again. Myrnin carefully allowed a look of confusion to pull across his face. The pale creatures usually weren’t known for fighting each other. Unlike vampires, surprisingly enough. There were a couple differences between the races. He assumed they’d gotten that little … quirk … from the human part that was left of them.
Still … there was more noise from the tunnels. Snarling. He really would have liked to look.
Something else was thrown, a rock this time, and it hit into the wall across from the crack within the floor. It shattered into pieces.
Myrnin flinched, he couldn’t help it, as shards of it slashed into his arms and face. Then there was the sound of running and …
He didn’t try to grab the creature that fell. If he had, he would have dropped Lady Grey. And she wasn’t able to do anything. But he saw it scrabble at the wall for a second, unable to find a hold, before he lost sight of it.
“Stop!” he said, voice furious. It echoed off the walls. Whoever was up there was hurting
his creations. It wasn’t
their fault they were here. They’d been trying to get away.
His words were a mistake, however. The strap on his shoe that had caught on the rock didn’t need much to dislodge. The rock crumbled. There was a sensation of falling, heart in his throat. He knew that if he let go, in that split second, of Lady Grey, he’d be able to grab the side of the crevasse.
He didn’t let go.
The downward pull stopped, however, with a sharp and painful jerk. Myrnin swung into the wall, nearly loosing his grip on Lady Grey’s wrist. But she grabbed his arm now, regaining some consciousness and making a doozy of a person chain. Myrnin’s head twisted, trying to catch sight of who – or what – was holding onto him. He half expected one of the creatures. What he got was a bit more surprising.
It was the chuckling vampire! From the hallway outside of Amelie’s!
They pulled, lifting Myrnin and then the Grey Lady out of the hole. Myrnin rolled out of the way, shaking the snickering vampire’s hand off his ankle before they could let him go. Then he checked on Lady Grey. She was almost conscious. She looked dazed, but she grinned at Myrnin, mouth moving like she was trying to say something, but no sound came out. He lightly patted her cheek reassuringly before looking at the vampire who had saved them.
They weren’t that impressive. As Myrnin had commented on before, there really wasn’t much to say. The color scheme seemed to be red and orange. Red shirt, orange socks and belt. Besides this observation, Myrnin didn’t care. He stood up, making sure there was a good amount of room between himself and the hole, before he turned around and slammed the younger vampire into the floor. It wasn’t that hard. They weren’t expecting it.
“What authority said you could kill
my charges!” he hissed.
The other vampire looked confused, but suitably annoyed as well. “Get off!” they said. And foolishly, they attempted to push Myrnin off. It didn’t work. “I just saved your life!”
“And killed someone else,” Myrnin pointed out, but backed off. He now knew at least … no one was touching the creatures in the tunnels. Not even him. He was going to have to find a safer place for them. Were snickering vampires couldn’t get to them!
“They attacked me when I came in!” said snickering vampire protested. “If I was going to get reprimanded for risking my life to save yours, Lord Myrnin,” there was a clear scoff there, “Then I wouldn’t have bothered!”
Myrnin deflated a little more. He leaned down and helped a dizzy Grey Lady to her feet. She leaned on his shoulder and he made it a point not to look at snickering vampire. “Sure. Whatever. Thank you.” He wasn’t even sure if he meant to say thank you.
How many of them were left now? One fewer? Two? They were his responsibility and he’d just let himself fall down a hole. One of them was surely dead by now.
He waved the other vampire off. It was easy to tell what had happened. Frank, the computer who opened the portals, couldn’t speak in the tunnels. But that didn’t mean the portal couldn’t have been left open to Amelie’s office until snickering vampire – the only one close by – had looked in to see what was going on. So, he just made sure they took the same portal back.
That left Myrnin and Lady Grey in the tunnels. Or the bits that remained of them. As soon as Lady Grey was able to, they bother leaped up to what was left of the floor of Myrnin’s lab. If Myrnin looked back down into the tunnels that he could see from that position, he saw no sign of the failed experiments. Long gone, hopefully to more steady footing.
“I’m going to find someplace better than this,” muttered Myrnin. “I’m not having it. I don’t want …” Lady Grey, since she was already leaning on his shoulder, just reached out and started to rub at his back. “… to lose anyone else,” she finished.
“It’s not just that,” said Myrnin, leaning into her. “I have to make sure that something is done. No one else is going to care about them.”
“Well,” said Lady Grey, her eyes narrowed a bit as she glared in the direction that the other vampire had left in. “I care.”
He appreciated that. He really did. Not much had gotten done, but they had almost died, so it was exactly the sort of day he expected to face. There would be another. Probably in the near future. But he wasn’t yet willing to face another vampire who killed his … whatever the creatures within the tunnel were to him.
It looked like the lab needed to be rebuilt again. Maybe he’d add in a couple more walls. Claire had been asking for a small kitchen. Things like that. And the hole below them would need to be patched up.
His arms wrapped around Lady Grey’s neck. They both had dust in their hair. “Thank you,” he said.
ORIGIN "Embarrassment: Failed Experiments”: I never previously mentioned the experiments much. For the same reason I don’t often mention Frank is basically a brain in a jar who can manifest an almost physical avatar. It takes too much background explaining. The wherefors and how-tos and I wasn’t willing to info dump. However, it’s also in-canon and good material to us. So I used it. Myrnin is not a saint. He admits to have killed, and to have done things he regrets when he was sick. The experiments, and a bit of the origin of the computer, are something he always seemed a bit iffy on when it came to guilt. I never got the sense it was here or there either way. It just wouldn’t be something he’d do ‘now’ and had moved past. Still, they are a terror down in the tunnels and he has to face dealing with them directly. So I wrote this. Which was interesting, but made me a bit disappointed in Myrnin. Which was generally the point. Then there was Lady Grey and I personally liked that.
Julius’
Embarrassment:
Hospital visit with Myrnin and SamPersonal note: Since we are using Penny as a guideline for the passage of time she’s 12 at this point.
Most of the Goldman family visited Julius in the hospital at one time or another. It was a pretty simple matter. Sometimes he was awake. Sometimes he wasn’t. That was just how it was. He was still groggy even though the worst, or so he’d been told, was over. Though he expected just about anyone to come in today (though he was a bit nervous in case a
specific person came) he did not at once understand when he saw the familiar face of the alchemist poke his head the door of the room.
The smile wasn’t what Julius was used to. Part of him, inwardly, jumped. Brief flashbacks of blood and the edges of his vision going black. Mixed feeling stung his throat. Myrnin had helped. He was part of the reason Julius was in this bed to begin with. But he was also part of the reason he wasn’t in a coffin instead.
“Yes?” he asked. Each movement of his jaw pulled at the bandage. Not very much pain past a dull ache but that was going to change if he was left to talk for any length of time.
“I can go,” pointed out Myrnin. “Wouldn’t think the less of you if you wanted me to leave.” The smile was still wrong. It was a nervous thing and showed no sign of the manic energy that Myrnin always had around him.
Did Julius want him to go? He couldn’t hate, that was for sure. Even if he tried he just saw why Myrnin had done it. Myrnin had brought his young charge into his house for assistance. Maybe it hadn’t been wise. Maybe it hadn’t been safe (which evidence proved it hadn’t been). But when did walking on the street prove any different? If it had been Penny … he didn’t think he would be able to look at Myrnin. If it had been his daughter he wouldn’t even have looked at him twice.
But instead Julius said, “Come in.”
A magazine had been left here at some point, though he wasn’t sure by whom. He set it aside, wincing a little. The vampire stepped into the room, coat-tails fluttering around his legs. He’d changed since the last time Julius had seen him. Of course he had. Currently, from Julius’ position on the hospital bed he couldn’t get a look at Myrnin’s shoes, but they were squeaking at every step. His pants were black-and-white diamonds that led to a large belt which was buckled with brass plate that wouldn’t be unusual on a cowboy’s belt. Then there was a neat suit, beetle-shell green with silver cufflinks. He was wearing a hat, too, but he took it off as soon as he entered the room. It was a white bowler. He’d dressed up. Or Julius thought he had at least. It was all fancy dress without any randomly thrown in beach clothing (unless he was wearing flip-flops). Should he be touched or confused?
“Was there something you wanted?” Julius asked. Though he supposed Myrnin would want to know he was alive - for Samuel’s case at the very least - he didn’t think that required a personal visit.
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” said Myrnin. A nice starter, Julius thought, but he was waiting for the rest of it.
“Did you want me to say something to that?” he asked, wincing halfway through. Myrnin seemed to realize than that Julius wasn’t up to extensive talking. He spun the bowler between his fingers, the usual bundle of on the spot nervous habits.
“Samuel’s not taking it well …”
Julius arched an eyebrow. It wasn’t a mocking gesture. He didn’t want to say anything least his neck inform him it was in pain again. The arch of the eyebrow was a prompting for Myrnin to go on. He didn’t seem to take it that way, however.
“Yeah, I know that you don’t exactly care about his well-being, considering. I’ll make this short. If you’re going to hate someone than I request it be myself. He is my responsibility. I do not wish to force him into things and that has caused you harm. I accept responsibility for his actions. But as it is …”
He trailed off. Julius was pretty sure it was because of his own expression. “What?”
Julius wondered if it was worth answering that question. He did anyway. Before Myrnin started rambling.
“You came to Theo’s house - my house - because you were looking for help.” Statement. Myrnin nodded his confused confirmation anyway. Julius continued, “Samuel is new. Very new. He doesn’t want to be what he is. You came to Theo because he is a doctor. He has skills. But …” He wondered how shrewd he looked. Myrnin was surprisingly easy to make squirm when he was feeling guilty. “You came to the Goldmans because they never wanted to be vampires either. And, traditionally, they have fought tooth and nail to avoid preying on humans. If we were powerful enough to keep the boy safe we’d be the ones looking after Samuel.” Not a single thing he said was a question. He slipped from ‘they’ the vampires and ‘we’ the Goldmans as easily as if there was no distinction between the two. He was human. That didn’t make him less.
Myrnin nodded once. Agreeing with what Julius said but still not sure why he said it.
“And,” finished Julius, feeling the tension behind his eyes. “You can’t leave Samuel alone. You’re all he has. Those burns he had. Those were from early that day. You left him alone and that’s what he did. Walked into direct sunlight.” Not suicidal but in denial. Considering the flammability of newly made vampires it might have been the same thing. “You don’t leave him alone because he’s more dangerous to himself and others when he’s like that. If it wasn’t me than it would have been someone else. You’re looking for ways to keep him alive. He’s just a boy. I’m alive. Don’t apologize. But don’t think this is me forgiving you.”
And then Julius shut up. Because that was all he could do. There was no right way to say anything he’d just said. He wasn’t okay with this. But he was glad he was alive and that it hadn’t been someone else. Vampires killed. In a life that lasted forever, living off what you did, it would happen sooner or later. But Samuel was twelve. Mentally, physically, emotionally. He’d nearly killed a man by accident. Julius didn’t want that for him. And the quicker he grew stronger as a
vampire than the sooner he would avoid things like this. That was how it worked. Julius didn’t
want him to grow so bitter to that life that he’d lose his happiness. And maybe that was why it was so easy to understand. Because he’d seen it happen.
Myrnin had stopped spinning his bowler hat around in his hands. Julius didn’t need to look in the direction of the door. He could tell from the position that Myrnin had shifted into that he was looking at someone. “Take care of your charge,” said Julius. Myrnin turned completely on his heels, walking toward the door until he could ruffle the boy’s sandy blond hair. It was almost a familiar movement. Care expressed where Julius doubted Myrnin would admit existed.
“Best be leaving. Thank you, Julius Goldman,” said Myrnin, without looking over. Julius didn’t respond. Not until Myrnin turned, raising and hand with index finger pointing heavenward to punctuate his next words. “Thank that man of yours as well. I know he doesn’t like me, so I doubt I’ll ever get to say it to him.”
Julius was flushing. Even if he wasn’t, he knew Myrnin could
tell. Maybe even Sam too. “He isn’t ‘that man of mine.’” Somehow finding that his neck wasn’t in so much pain that he couldn’t protest.
Myrnin didn’t look like he believed him anyway. “Yes, well, he did save your life. We’ll see.” He was staring pointedly at the heart monitor that Julius was still hooked up to. Julius could hear his thoughts like he’d said them out loud.
Humans! Even when they have the blasted proof in front of their face. And there was that smile. The manic one. He gripped Samuel’s upper arm, steering him out of the room as he tossed over his shoulder. “Do thank him for us. Don’t suppose you, he, or the rest of the Goldman’s will be seeing us for a while.” He placed his hat back on top of his head, leaving Julius to his embarrassment. That conversation had turned far too fast for his liking. His neck hurt. But that had at least been dealt with. The pressure behind his eyes tingled with sleep, which would soon reach out and grab him...
ORIGIN "Embarrassment: Hospital visit with Myrnin and Sam": This was the first story I wrote in The Sound Between, I think. It was meant to compliment a timeskip in one RP. And maybe maybe not be read as a standalone? I tried. I liked writing it anyway. But that regardless I wanted to see how well Julius would understand Samuel - as a new and not really in control vampire - almost killing him. Basically the main point of the story. I figured Myrnin and Sam had to come around at some point, mostly because Sam would have a lot of trouble sleeping at night.
Samuel’s
Embarrassment:
DoctorThe last person Samuel wanted to see was Theo Goldman. But as Myrnin said, he was the only doctor in Morganville who was truly capable I'm taking care of vampires. “The other is out of town,” Myrnin said, looking just as awkward as Sam. He knew just how badly this was going for him. “We aren't going to his house this time. No humans around. And he gave us a time to meet him.”
Sam swallowed. He didn't like it, but like most things having to do with Myrnin there was no getting out of it.
+ + +
“Taking the shirt off would be easier,” Myrnin pointed out. “I don't see how you're going to get enough blood with him squirming like that.”
“Your input wasn't needed,” Theo said, his voice stiff. Samuel appreciated it. You didn't like needles on a good day. Considering the examination he just gone through, Myrnin playing backseat doctor was a nightmare.
“ Why this much blood anyway?” asked Sam, voice wavering. This was at least one thing he could do and it distracted him from the needle.
Theo waited a beat, then said as he worked, “ We keep track of all vampires we have. Think of it like a census and an emergency number rolled into one.”
The vial he was filling was switched out. “If you have some of another vampire's blood, and you really need to know where they are, then it can be used to track them.” The vial was switched again. Sam was already feeling flickers of hunger. “That's what one is for, another is for me, since we need to check to see if you have a certain sickness.” Sam wasn't aware vampires could get sick. “And the last is for checking against the Archives. To see if we can find who changed you.”
Sam shuddered a bit, but Theo seemed to be done.
There was nothing the vampire had to do, since Sam healed as soon as the needle was removed from his arm. Theo moved away, coming back a couple seconds later and passed him a bottle with a familiar scent coming from it, and then moved away again. Sam was hesitant, he didn't want the blood, truthfully. But Theo shot him a look and any thoughts of rebellion flew from Samuel’s head.
“That's it?” asked Myrnin.
Theo looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
“It is, unless he wants a piece of candy.”
Several minutes later, they were leaving. Myrnin had a stick in his mouth, which he moved around in his mouth and apparently disagreed with the taste. Samuel wanted to walk several feet away to not associate with him.
ORIGIN "Embarrassment: Doctor": Sam attacked Theo’s son-in-law Julius, so all this is just a BIT awkward. Anyway, this story was written as filler to make up for explinations for the rest of the story. Also, we get to see Theo before things go down. o3o
Samuel’s
Sorrow:
UnknownSam didn’t like the fact he seemed to be tied to Myrnin’s hip. This included going to the meetings Myrnin found just as boring as he did. Luckily, that weren’t that common. This time, however, it seemed to involve him.
There were just vampires in the group. Usually there were humans, an equal number to the vampires. But the vampires who were there shifted like they were nervous.
Sam had hesitantly been given a seat next to Myrnin, who had at once decided to use the adjacent seat as his personal footrest.
“What is it this time?” he asked with a yawn, looking at Amelie.
It was Oliver who answered. Like Myrnin, he had his own charge, positioned next to him. Jason looked like he was sucking on something sour. This wasn’t unusual.
“We’re,” started Oliver. “Here because it has been more than enough time for your ward to remember what happened to him.”
Myrnin sat up, at once bristling. “No such thing has been ordered. And I refuse.”
He frowned at Oliver. Samuel felt nervousness crackle up and down his spine. Myrnin might not know what he couldn’t remember, but he didn’t want to let Oliver work it out of him either.
“Why do you want to know?” Samuel asked in a soft voice. “What’s happened?” He looked around the table, from Amelie to Oliver to Myrnin. Iif his heart had still worked, it would have been a jackhammer in his chest.
“Because it means someone is aware of how to change vampires,” said Amelie. She didn’t talk very often. It was often Oliver arguing with her. When the subject was actually interesting enough for Samuel to tune in, he was amazed that, though Oliver was brash and over-bearing and Amelie cold and calculating, they were actually very capable leaders. Even Myrnin seemed to play an intellectual part when he wasn’t making paper airplanes. “That’s serious,” explained Myrnin. “You remember when we took some of your blood to try and match it? Well …”
He waved a hand at the others to explain. Jason looked colyly interested. “The knowledge of how to change someone is limited,” Amelie said. “Your blood didn’t closely match with any of the vampires in the Archives.” Had something else also happened?
Samuel felt the slight tremor in his hands, but he nodded. That almost made sense. Why? He tried to concentrate on what might have happened. But it was like poking a wound. He retracted from the half-remembered feelings, trembling as his mind blended it back into the haze.
“I don’t know. I don’t who how I’m here. I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
Myrnin nodded, frowning at Amelie and Oliver in turn. He stood up, hands pressing into the flat of the table. “Try figuring things out on your own.”
Samuel gratefully got up, following Myrnin.
Halfway to the door, he paused again, looking at Myrnin. Something had come clearer in his head, just for a second. Quietly, though he knew everyone would hear, “I think it has something to do with New York.”
ORIGIN "Sorrow: Unknown": Sam and Myrnin are settling in together well. I actually had an extra story written for Sam by accident, so the prompt doesn’t exactly fit because I had to move things around to match. Still, it might make sense when I finally start explaining what sugnifigence New York has. Originally, I was thinking San Fransico as an option, or really any major city. New York became the better option. Also, this is the second story with Jason. I really dislike Jason. If only because he’s hard to write.
Samuel’s
Midnight snacks:
Day HouseThere were flickering stars directly above Samuel’s head and his hands rested on his knees. Myrnin’s lab was unsuitable for doing this. The shack that passed for a house wasn’t much for doing anything. He doubted the Day House residents would have liked him on their roof. But getting out of the underground was something worth being yelled at. He laid back after another couple of minutes and rested his head on the tiles.
It must have been a couple more minutes before his attention was drawn to the edge of the roof. There was a small thump, which a human probably wouldn’t have been able to hear. Samuel’s head jerked up and he looked over in the direction of the edge of the roof. He was about to bolt. A brown head of hair was the most he saw, and then there was a nineteen-year-old vampire sitting on the edge of the building. He was holding a cup, which Sam clearly smelled blood in. Samuel stiffened.
There were several things to take in about this vampire. For starters, he looked like he worked for a business. His hair was tied back in a bun, which rested at the nape of his neck. He was darker in skin tone than Samuel, but like Samuel becoming a vampire had caused his skin to go an almost sickly shade paler. Like he’d been deprived of the sun.
And he was wearing bright pink socks.
Samuel got to his feet, going to leave. He didn’t want to, but this vampire felt older than him. He didn’t want trouble.
“It’s a free roof,” the other vampire said to Sam without looking at him. “I’m Harquin, by the way.”
Samuel didn’t answer. The other vampire didn’t seem to care. But Sam didn’t move, he just stood there.
“Just got off work,” Harquin said after a long pause. He held up the cup as if this explained something. “Got this.”
He tapped at the roof with his free hand, indicating the building. “Do you know the Days?” Samuel said nothing. “They know me,” assured Harquin. “I’m their Protector.”
Samuel must have looked confused, because the vampire elaborated, “Those bracelets humans sometimes wear.”
“Dog tags,” muttered Sam. Harquin shrugged. “If you like. I’ve never seen it like that. I’m distantly related to the Days.” His gaze looked far away and his hand shifted on the cup as he lifted it to his lips. Sam noticed as he did that the cup had words on it, like you’d buy off the internet: To the World’s Best Ommer.
Harquin noticed him looking and winked, saying, “I asked them for one that said “World’s Best Window-Washer’ but they never get my jokes.”
Sam didn’t either. He looked confused. Harquin added, as if an explanation would make it better, “I’m just being nonsensical. I doubt they even know what my job is. Did you come up here to look at the stars?”
Sam shrugged. He had, but he didn’t know too much about talking to Harquin. While the other vampire seemed friendly enough Sam wasn’t good at talking. Harquin continued to move forward. “Bringing a chair up here might be nice.” He looked up at the stars. “How many worlds do you think are up there?” Sam scowled. Considering one alien he’d run into, he’d rather not think about other worlds. But Harquin did get him to look back up at the stars. The quiet had been what he’d come up for. Maybe just to be alone - or lonely. Harquin interfered with that feeling. Sam wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing
“What is your job?” he asked after a while.
Harquin didn’t say anything but reached into a pocket and pulled out a business card. He held it out to Sam, who took it.
Honestly, he didn’t know what to think about it. After a little, he asked, “Is this some sort of set-up?”
“That would have been neater,” admitted Harquin. “But no. I was called here. Since you’re currently sitting on the roof of my nieces’ house. Though when I got up here, I recognized you.”
Sam didn’t buy that, but he didn’t question it either. There was silence again.
After a little, Harquin stood up. Sam couldn’t smell anything in the cup anymore, so he assumed it was empty.
“I have to go, I think,” admitted the vampire. “Next star gazing trip, while I’m sure the Days wouldn’t mind, might need to be scheduled.” Harquin chuckled before he jumped off the roof.
Samuel watched him walk down the sidewalk, and the vampire waved, but never looked back.
Samuel hesitated … but then he pocketed the card.
ORIGIN "Midnight Snacks: Day House": Harquin! My latest MV OC. He’s a child psychitristc. With some relation to the Days, though that relation might be closer to a very, very older cousin. Ommer is one of the many gender-neutral terms I dug through for aunt/uncle. The fact it’s also used for computers was something I thought would amuse Harquin. I don’t understand his joke about what else to put on the mug either. His ‘nieces’ are Hannah Moses and the lady I can’t remember the first name of. Whether Samuel will see him again, or if the first meeting was a set-up, I don’t know. :3
Samuel’s
Heartbroken:
Mirrors are What We See(For the prompt: Someone said write a dream. I wrote a dream. Looks like I'm picking on Sam again. @.@ I don't write horror, I just write sad.):
If you could scream into the night, what would you hear? The silence. Have you ever screamed in a dream, an in-between space? There is no sound, no way to let things out. You echo in your own mind, but are trapped. A fly in black honey. There is no color, no breath, no life. Dark. You slip in and out of awareness. Like someone coming up for air. But you can't breath. Can't push that life into your chest. Can't let it all out in one exclamation. You can't scream in this illusion.
What must if feel like to die? You only do it once, of course, so maybe you don't know. Maybe you are aware of the pain, life slowly ebbing from your body, vision going black. But you can only guess at that. You only have the muddled up version of those who have been there.
You've been there. Maybe more than once. But in the blink of an eye or the wave of a hand you are back. It makes no lasting impression other than memories, no lasting trauma than the one you leave yourself. You choose the memories you keep from it.
You've never been suspended between death and life, strung up on a thin silver wire that can be cut and woven by your choice and by others. You've never been aware of the breath no longer entering your body but being unable to scream.
Samuel Salinas screamed.
It was a guttered sound, something low in his throat and pushed out with enough force to feel raw. The feel of sheets beneath his fingers, the tightness in his chest, telling him he was awake. There was a relieved sigh, a ruffled sleepiness coming off him. He rubbed a hand through his curly blond-brown hair and scrambled out of bed, his legs twisted up in the jeans he'd been wearing. His mouth tasted funny, like the scream had caught halfway inside it and died there. The bathroom, just down the hall, was dark. Each step felt real against his shoes. The hallway didn't twist oddly. He had to remind himself that this was real. This was okay. He was up a whole lot earlier than intended.
He didn't bother turning on the bathroom light and instead just moved to the sink, taking a handful of water to wash out his mouth. It was warm, but maybe that wasn't unusual for this time of year.
Samuel half froze as he went to get another handful. What was this time of year? Spring? Summer? It had to be Summer, of course, that was the only way to explain the warm water when he'd turned the knob for cold. But ... it was night. Even in Texas that was time enough for the pipes to cool down.
Stumbling a bit he reached over and flicked on the light. What faced him in the mirror was a nightmare. Sam flinched, scream once again catching in his throat, hands shaking. If he closed his eyes, would it go away? He still had to be dreaming. He closed his eyes, but it did nothing. It was like he could just see through his eyelids. Did he see himself? Perhaps horrifyingly disfigured, monsternized, or any of a dozen other options? No. When faced with yourself as a monster, you are afraid, but what is worse is seeing a loved one.
Already his mind was trying to forget. The black hair framing a familiar face. The same face as his, the same curves in the cheekbone and around the eyes. The same slight curl that could just be written off as bedhead. His brain tried to forget, but it didn't change anything. The sink was red, so was the woman's eyes, looking out of that familiar face. Sam whimpered as the woman seemed to reach though the mirror and grab his wrist. Pulling him.
They say that your life is controlled by threads. Your future, your future love, the very string tying you to life itself. Now. Cut them all. Any possibility of love, for who would love you now? Any sight of a future, for how can you have one when all paths lead you an unclimbable wall? Any possibility of life, because yours has just ended.
What if I don't want to go? Sam whines. His hands in the grip of someone else, but he isn't looking up to see who. Whoever it is doesn't answer anyway. It's dark. He isn't sure where he's walking. With each step he sees less and less. Fingers growing cold, even though they're in the grip of another. Still, even though he can feel his legs moving.
Fingers growing cold, even though they're in the grip of another. Still, even though he can feel his legs moving.
There's one thing that always happens, a voice. Neither male or female, but delivered to Sam's head. Do you want to live or do you want to die? The feel of a caught scream, the heavy grip, the odd taste in his mouth that just wont go away ... the beat of a heart so faint that it's almost gone. He fears it. He admits it. He fears dying. More than anything. He doesn't know what's next, what's going to happen, and he's afraid of being alone. The fear drives his thoughts away, but they don't stop his heart from stilling ... and stopping.
Death isn't black, it's color. Color and confusion and sound and hunger and light and the odd but fearfully enjoyable taste in your mouth as you try to hold in a scream. You live. You die. That's all it ever was. No flash, no glamour, no black. Just you. Where you've found what's next and don't like it, where you know what's happened but can't face it, and where you are more alone than you've ever been before.
Fear. For those of you who have never been caught between life and death, it is only a living fear.
ORIGIN "Heartbroken: Mirrors are what we See": This, in its completness, was written for a RP. Other than that, I gave several hints to who changed Sam. And mirrors turn up around him a lot, but that isn’t so much plot-relevant as me trying out symbolism.
Myrnin’s
Aggressive:
Never Tell Children about Time TravelIf you had a time machine, would you use it? That sort of power at your fingertips, to see the past without the painful fate to repeat it?
Myrnin had had the buttons set for over a year. While it was perfectly possible for him to us the machine whenever he wanted there was a line between what he
could do and what he
should do. And if his long life had taught him anything then it was not to mess with things larger than himself. Wanting something wasn't the same as finding it useful. The only time he'd gone back in time it had a point. While he'd have liked for it to be of more personal use, it was something that he couldn't shake.
It had been Sam. Claire had picked through Myrnin's books before, but she seemed to have the decency to not ask. Samuel didn't have the same forethought. He asked about Ada. He asked about Arthur. He even asked about the ... other one. For the latter, at least, Myrnin had made it very clear that it was a bad idea to go there.
Maybe the boy just couldn't leave a mystery. Myrnin certainly could.
"Leave it," he said, leaning on the counter. "I don't know what possible questions you have left."
Samuel crossed his arms and shrugged. “I mean … you keep answering all my questions without much protest.”
Myrnin scowled. He liked Sam well enough. The boy was someone he could talk to when Lady Grey wasn’t around. Answering his questions didn’t actually do anything. Samuel hadn’t actually asked the truly painful ones about Ada.
“What Sam?” he said with a sigh, rubbing at his nose.
“Why didn’t you ever go back?”
Myrnin looked at Sam blankly. “Huh?” He didn’t get it.
“Arthur,” said Samuel. “He died when he was in his 70s, right? But you stopped writing about him a lot sooner than that.”
Myrnin’s jaw stiffened. There was a lot of things he’d written. In a lot of different languages, so at least Sam couldn’t read them all. He was a bit too good at picking out context, however.
“We had a fight …” he said slowly.
Sam tilted his head after the lengthy pause. The pointed look didn’t visibly phase Myrnin. It
did phase him, but at least he could look like he was okay.
It was several long minutes and only then did Myrnin say anything. It was just hard for him to say what was on his mind. “What did you want me to say, Sam? We had a fight. I never went back.” He crossed one leg over the other and leaned back into the counter. Sam, for some confusing reason, didn’t look like he was buying it.
“Why not?” he asked.
Myrnin pushed himself away from the counter, wagging a finger at the boy. “No. No, unfair question. I am not answering unfair questions!”
Samuel arched an eyebrow and Myrnin looked around the room. He didn’t have to stay here. He could just leave. It was rather simple.
It was also the biggest lie. Leaving answered the question just as much as saying something would. His hand rested against the wall and he pulled in a breath. “Because I was scared. Because if I went back, then I would have to face the question about who I was. I couldn’t do that.”
Just another answer that didn’t seem to satisfy the small boy. He just looked confused. “But … you lost him anyway. If telling him would have broken you apart, then you’d done that already.”
Myrnin rubbed a hand through his hair before pulling at his hair tie. “Yes … I know. But I can’t change what’s happened. It’s what I did.”
He should never have told Samuel about the time machine. It wasn’t something that should be looked to. It was one that was there for important things.
“Does it still matter to you?” asked Samuel. But it wasn’t a question, he’d seen the answer in Myrnin’s eyes. He raised his arm and pointed in the direction of where there was a half-ensembled backpack on the table. The time-machine.
“Why don’t you tell him then?”
Myrnin sank down the side of counter, arms crossing as he descended. Then he shook his head. “That isn’t how it works, Sam. I can’t. He’s dead. I should have moved on since then.” He should have. But there were many regrets in his long life which he hadn’t moved on from.
“There isn’t fault in having regrets,” said Sam, sounding like he was talking to himself more than Myrnin. “If you had a chance to fix something, why don’t you?”
Why didn’t he? Was he just afraid again? It seemed likely. But why couldn’t he be scared?
+++
The idea persisted less with Myrnin then it did with Sam. Apparently, he’d gotten it into his head that Myrnin wouldn’t use the time machine because he was afraid to reconcile things. This … wasn’t far from the truth. Myrnin might have done it, if it wasn’t very likely it would mess with his own history. If he ran to the cursed thing every time he remembered something bad that happened … well, he’d be in the past forever.
But he at the least returned to his own writing. A lot of these books weren’t even in order. They contained the rambling of an addled brain which wrote in any order it fancied.
Some things on Arthur had been written a hundred years after he’d met the man. Worse, they’d been penned in a horrible attempt at French. He’d had no idea whether the incorrect spelling was serious or not.
A week passed. When Sam saw Myrnin reading he didn’t let up. Was there some sign on Myrnin’s forehead which said he wanted to be bothered by this?
The latest book slammed closed. Sam flinched. “Are you ever going to let up? I have been perfectly fine for longer than you’ve been alive.”
Samuel thought he looked shrewd. But in all honesty, he looked like he was sniffing pepper. “Are you really?” he asked.
“Of course!” exclaimed Myrnin.
“What did Arthur look like?” asked Samuel, crossing his armed and leaning against the bookcase. This was probably a mock-up of Myrnin’s own position so many days ago.
Myrnin set the book down by his chair. “What does it matter?” But he was already trying to remember the other man’s face.
“Well?” Sam asked, clearly waiting for Myrnin to prove a point of his.
Myrnin couldn’t … He couldn’t remember Arthur’s face … Well, he’d see a painting rather recently, but that didn’t count. He couldn’t make the expression in his head change. It was just the carefully rehearsed one from the painting. The vampire couldn’t remember him scared, or happy, or lonely. What else had he forgotten?
“It … doesn’t matter,” he said to Sam, shaking his head. He was an awful liar. And Sam knew it. Once again, the boy dropped it, but not for more than another day.
Myrnin was fairly sure he was working him down. Slowly, so Myrnin couldn’t put up a good fight. The boy had found a date this time.
“Here,” he said, holding out one of Myrnin’s journals. “Why not go here?”
The vampire blinked and then took the book, turning it over to see which one it was.
He was almost impressed. It was one where Arthur and he had still been living under the same roof. But the particular entry that Samuel was indicating was a time when Arthur had been away from the house.
The memory, without the book, would have been impossible to dredge up. It was a faded and waxy thing that crumbled at the slightest pressure. But it was a good moment in time. A place he could insert himself for a couple of minutes and go almost completely unnoticed.
And Sam had picked it here, instead of after the fight. Because there were several problems with traveling to after the fight. Arthur wouldn’t move on, at least not as soon, and it would leave the same gaping opening for Myrnin. He didn’t want an opening. He wanted a goodbye. A goodbye that wouldn’t say to Arthur what he was.
He closed the book, only to find Samuel’s expectant face. It was like giving in. Saying yes, that was.
“I need your help,” he admitted to the boy. “I need someone to come with me …”
+++
It would have felt like no time at all. When they came back, the lab was the same. Myrnin gripped the edge of the table for a second, but the surprised dog squirmed out of his arms before he could even catch his barring. She scampered around, completely oblivious to the change in time and location.
Myrnin kept his hand on the edge of the table while Sam eyed the corgi.
“Why bring it with us?” he asked.
Myrnin shrugged one shoulder, eyebrows knitting together. Back then ... he’d almost known. The other him, the older him. He’d almost known but hadn’t believed it. And then it took him almost two-thousand years to get his hands on a real time machine and by then he’d forgotten. Amazing.
“Myrnin,” Sam tried again. “Why’d we bring the dog?”
Myrnin blinked and then looked at the younger vampire. “Because she needed a home.” He needed no other reason.
ORIGIN "Aggressive: Never Tell Children about Time Travel”: This one connects with the Midnight Snacks story for Arthur. I just wanted to fill in the missing parts from Myrnin’s POV. There really isn’t much more to it than that. Though small RP references might be spotted to the sharp eyed.
Samuel’s
Disgruntlement:
Blood Bank“Grab a coat,” said Myrnin. What he really meant was catch it, since he threw it over Sam’s head. Sam scrambled around with it, mystified about why, but pulling it over his head anyway. The whole point of it, he knew, was to cover any exposed skin from the sun. But he also felt he looked like a snowman.
“Vacation,” was all Myrnin muttered as he fitted a straw hat over his head. Sam would sooner have looked like a snowman with the hoodie and layers than let Myrnin pick out his hats.
They didn’t walk through Morganville in the daylight too often. Still, Samuel was getting very familiar with the layout of the streets.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Shopping,” said Myrnin. He yawned. He’d been looking tired lately. Sam could relate. He hadn’t slept well since he’d become a vampire about half a year ago. At least the bulk of the nightmares had lessened.
Shopping really didn’t make sense. They didn’t exactly eat much human food.
But Myrnin was still moving with a purpose, almost skipping. Samuel just trudged onward until Myrnin steared him into the vampire end of town. Not very deep. The vampire area of town wasn’t that hard to find. One just looked for anything which appeared to be taken from Britain.
Sam finally looked up and blinked at where Myrnin had taken him. “Ha ha,” he said dryly. He turned, about to head back for Myrnin’s lab, but the scientist grabbed him by the shoulder. “Nice try, Sam.”
Sam allowed himself to be dragged into the building which smelled vaguely like blood even from the outside.
“A blood bank?” he asked, sounding offended even to himself.
Myrnin frowned at him and then shot what was a surprisingly charming smile toward the receptionist. It bought himself a bit of time to look over at Sam and shake his head. “Yeah. I usually get it delivered. But it didn’t come in. So stop looking at me like that. It’s good for you to know how this is done anyway.”
Sam didn’t think so in the least. In fact, knowing where his food came from was the last thing he wanted to know. It was one thing visiting a farm. It was another thing coming
here.
The receptionist blinked owlishly through his glasses at Sam, but then turned his attention to Myrnin. Myrnin leaned against the counter, scrawling something on a piece of paper. It was taken out of his hands as soon as he looked like he was done.
“Do you have the previous containers?” asked the receptionist, pure suspicion in his voice.
Samuel had no idea what that was about, but from how Myrnin was grinning he knew full well.
“If you mean the cooler the blood comes in, your deliverer forgot to take it back.”
The receptionist sniffed. “They aren’t supposed to take it back! You are! This is the third time this year it hasn’t been returned.”
“It’s only the third time they’ve forgotten to take it back with them. Maybe this latest delivery person is new?” Myrnin’s voice was sweet as honey. The receptionist wasn’t buying it, but just ticked something off on the slip of paper. “Next window,” he said, jabbing the pencil he was holding to point.
Samuel’s nose twitched. He was reminded too much of ordering at a drive-thru.
Myrnin looked bored, but he dragged Sam along. The young vampire squirmed, looking around. There weren’t any humans, but it seemed like a very small room for the building which had looked larger from the outside.
“This is the end the vampires come in,” Myrnin said, apparently guessing based on the way Sam was looking around. “If they come in. Though it does costs a fair amount for them to bring it over to the lab, however. Even more for me than others.”
Sam looked up at him, eyebrows arching. “Why?”
“Bad reputation,” said Myrnin with a smile. “Completely miss-founded now, I assure you.”
Sam noticed the use of the word ‘now’.
The receptionist had warned the person at the next window, because it took longer than Myrnin seemed to expect.. He was tapping his foot with impatience. When someone did finally get back to them, it was with a fairly large plastic cooler. ‘Property of Morganville’ was stamped to the top. Sam doubted Myrnin would take the hint. There were towels in the bathroom which said the same thing.
What annoyed Sam was that Myrnin pressed the container into
his arms. “Here,” he said. “You can carry it.”
Samuel frowned at him, but only did what he was told.
ORIGIN "Disgruntlement: Blood Bank": This is actually a small setting within the main canon and so I tried my best to remember the vampire side of the building. I just wanted to poke fun at the field trips of where your food comes from sort of thing. No real point to this story.
Samuel’s
Aggressive:
Identity"Leave, please," said Theo, frowning a little. Myrnin blinked, scratching at his own shoulder instead of flinching. Samuel already knew what he was thinking. 'I'm glad it's not either of us.' And it wasn’t them. Theo was talking to Oliver. Oliver didn't look impressed, but he stood up from hias seat.
Shelves of books stretched around them. As soon as he left, Myrnin closed the book he was holding. "Thanks for seeing us, doc." Theo ran a hand through his hair, looking very hesitant.
Samuel frowned down at his hands. He hadn't even really been reading. It wasn't really to his tastes. Anyway, most of the books here were about vampires.
"You don't have to be here," he said in a low voice. Theo sighed, pulling up a chair. "No. I don't."
"I'm imagining what your household might say," muttered Myrnin.
Theo cast him a sharp look. "Likely they'd think I'm too kind for my own good. Now, if you're actually interested in my services I would stop trying to persuade me to leave. As it would not take much to do so." Sam swallowed, guilt weighing like iron bars on his shoulders. Theo usually sounded kind. He'd heard others mention him. Samuel really couldn't blame him for sounding just a little frustrated around Myrnin and Sam.
"Of course," said Myrnin. He passed something across the table to the other vampire. Theo picked up the package, turning it over. "I did give you the list. I can only take care of my end." He opened the bag, which Samuel hadn't noticed he'd brought with him. He pulled out several stacks of paper and a couple of pens.
He started on the first page, not saying anything. After a while, he asked, "What blood type would you like?"
"What?" asked Sam. He hadn't been paying attention.
"Blood type," repeated Theo. "You don't have one now ... other than the bloodline you come from anyway. It's just for the look ..."
Samuel was confused for a second and then said, “A Positive.” Theo lapsed into silence. Myrnin started picking up a few of the papers as Theo finished with them. After a little, he whistled. “How many handwriting styles do you have?”
“About sixteen,” answered Theo simply.
Myrnin whistled again.
“There are actual humans and vampires who do this as a job,” said Theo after a while. “As I said .. this is just my end of it. You’ll need to do the rest, Myrnin. Particularly if you intend to go to New York with these sorts of things.”
After a little, Myrnin was gaping. “This lists Lady Grey as the mother and me as the father!”
“Unless you had a different suggestion. It perhaps it isn’t the best pass. He’s a ward of yours, however, at least for now. Unless you want unusual questions in the future, I would suggest you deal without the exact question of ‘where is his parents.’ People will probably assume he is adopted regardless.”
Myrnin looked like a nightmare had just come true. But Sam didn’t say anything, he just tried to figure out if he wanted to laugh or cry. Theo finished almost everything, but looked up at Samuel again. “You’re … recent. You are just missing reported as missing, as far as I am aware.” He turned the page around so Sam could see what was missing. “And for the first time you do this, I can’t put down a variation of Samuel.” Theo’s voice was apologetic. “Did you want me to just fill it out? Or did you want something you can remember?”
Samuel’s mouth got a bit dry. But he nodded a little. He looked at the place where Theo was supposed to write his name. His head had gone blank, but he felt he needed to choose something.
“How … how long will I need to use this name?:”
Theo studied Samuel’s face. “Five years or less,” he finally said. It was a bit apologetic as well. “Usually it would be longer, but … “ But Samuel looked twelve. He swallowed again. “Oscar.” He passed back the paper to Theo, who nodded and wrote down Samuel’s request.
ORIGIN "Aggressive: Identity": There’s another doctor who is a vampire in Morganville. I just can’t remember his name. Anyway, I’m going to try and have bits of this come back to bit Myrnin and Sam, but we’ll have to see. Theo is also still hung up about Sam almost killing someone in his family. Just a biiiiit.
Aaron’s
Mad:
Patience Jr.It wasn’t like it had been planned. No one had asked Blackwell to blow up in distress and chaotic melodrama. Politics! The rest of the world could have it. Aaron liked to think the Goldman’s stayed out of it.
Big problem when your splintered family-line lived in it, however. Over a thousand years living with Jakob, Patience (the younger), Uncle Virgil and Aunt Ida … the whole family could disagree with their views but that didn’t excuse abandoning them. They stuck together, all of them. Family was ingrained into Aaron’s soul as much as any of the others …
But he’d never asked for this.
Theo and Patience (the older) off in Blackwell, out of reach and in a hotbed of tension that might blow up at any second. Julius and Penny and the lot off in another state. What did that leave Aaron? A weekend to himself - something he might have relished - if it wasn’t for the fact that it was getting interrupted.
It was the cellphone call. Patience number, for a change. Aaron dug the phone out from under a bit of cardstock and a ruler, pressing the cell to his ears. “‘ello!” he said around a pen that he’d stuck in his mouth. “How are things?” Right to the point.
“... Fair …”
Oh dear, thought Aaron and he spat out the pen. “What’s wrong?”
His mouth drew in a thin line as as his grandmother continued to talk. Grim.
Blackwell was unsteady. Most of it was made up of vampires, unlike Morganville. In Morganville, in theory, the humans and vampires co-ran things. But Amelie was … well … the humans could deal with a great many things and there was a sort of peace between the two species, Aaron never intended to deny that. But Blackwell was a mirror image compared to this town. Most of it was vampires.
Young vampires. Ten years at best, with a couple old ones tossed in that had migrated. And there was a lot of them. Ten vampires to one human? Aaron didn’t know the exact math, but that sounded good. And it had been co-ruled (more effectively) as well. But it had been the
vampire that had died. The Daylighters, as if they hadn’t caused enough damage, had a lasting effect. Blackwell could best be described as a silent power-struggle. With the Goldman’s caught in the middle, right where they didn’t want to or need to be.
Or so he’d assumed.
“Is he mad?” Aaron shouted, standing up so fast that the chair he was sitting in scooted back and tipped over with a clatter. He didn’t notice.
“I doubt he thinks so,” said Patience, voice calm compared to Aaron’s. “He probably thinks it’s what he needs to do.”
“He’s going to get himself
killed. And that’s the right thing?” Aaron scrubbed his hand through his hair, angry. “Very nice of him. Does he even know what he’s doing? Does he even care? … Are
you and Theo alright? That’s … worse news than I expected. Are you coming back and letting him deal with this?” He knew the answer. ‘No’. Because Theo was Theo and Patience was loyal to a fault and these were her children and grandchildren, even though they were idiots.
“We’re fine,” said Patience. She sounded tired. “Nothings … not much has happened. In the general terms …”
So, that basically meant no one had died (or no one else. Aaron did hear things.) but that didn’t mean no one was hurt. “And we’re not coming back just yet Aaron. Not until things are settled. Patience … she’s coming back. Maybe Virgil and Ida later on, but hopefully not. Hopefully that won't be needed.” Aaron stiffened. He would have preferred Virgil or Ida. His cousin, also called Patience, wasn’t … wasn’t something that could diffuse stress. He wondered if that was why they were sending her. Or perhaps it just had to do with her wanting a way out of the usually low-maintenance town.
“What exactly am I supposed to tell everyone? ‘Oh, you know Jakob, well, you see …’” Aaron shook his head, allowing himself to trail off. “Never mind. Sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining to you, Grandma.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s just not going to go over well. I feel it. And I know things are more serious over there - no, wait - let me finish.” Patience hadn’t been about to cut him off but Aaron wanted to be sure. “Be careful, alright? I’m not a good mediator and that’s fine and all, but things are going to go south here if Patience is around too long. Putting her and me together … was never a good combo to begin with. And Julius and … well, lets just say I might be entertained if it was anyone other than her. If keeping everyone safe means leaving Jakob to deal with his own mess than leave him.” He reached down, picking up his chair. Pessimistically, almost with a sob in his voice, he knew it wouldn’t be the first grave they’d dig because of a family-member’s foolishness.
He thought that Patience was going to say something but some loud noises were vaguely heard through the speakers and she said, “Aaron … it’ll be fine. Talk to you later, I’ll have Theo call!” And then she hung up. Aaron set the phone down on the table, staring at it for several long moments as he got his feelings together. Then he was muttering curses under his breath before he looked at the clock. Too early. Well …
He picked up the phone again and called Julius. Then he lied through his teeth. Or rather, did his best to tell the truth but not mentioning two things. Jakob being an idiot and the fact that Patience and Theo might be worse off than assumed.
“Just great,” he said as he hung up again. His tone wasn’t the same one he’d used over the phone with Julius. It wasn’t the joking mockery from the end of the call as Aaron had pointed out Julius may have forgot his toothbrush here only to be cut off before he could finish why that might matter. Distracting Julius by embarrassing him was far too easy in the early morning. It felt like cheating. He thought that what he’d said might keep Julius from thinking too much about the facts. At least while he was away. They all needed a break and they’d all be back soon enough and who
knew what would happen then.
Patience, traveling by car or on foot, would be here in a couple hours if the phone call was accurate and she was coming
now. Not tomorrow but right now.
And that was just going to go over
so well with the family.
“I wish they’d stay in New York,” Aaron moaned, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.
ORIGIN "Mad: Patience Jr.": Another story that was meant to take place between one RP scene and the next. Or rather, it was a POV of someone while the RP was elsewhere. In this case, I wanted to show Aaron making a tough call to not inform the rest of the family about things taking a downturn in Blackwell (the younger of the two vampire/human towns). Also I wanted to express his distaste for Patience Jr. because Patience Jr. is a mess. Stories like these make me like Aaron more.
Theo’s
Heartbroken:
Silver and bloodTurf wars weren’t something Theo was unfamiliar with. He’d been in a few before. It was very rare that he had ever been this deeply connected to one – usually his family was just caught in crossfire. But part of this was his grandson’s doing. The doctor did really approve, but he didn’t have a say in the matter. The last thing he really wanted was to see his family die.
He dodged around a pair of wrestling vampires. A very large part of him wanted to interfere, but he recognized the attempts to overpower and not kill. That was truly what all this was about, what it always was. Power. Who had more of it and who could take over Blackwell faster.
The doctor scowled, hurrying to the edge of the ‘battle’. It was better for him. He refused to attack anyone, this was for sure. But he’d promised Jakob he’d try to make sure the incident with Diana wasn’t repeated.
She was dead now …
“Patience!” he called, sure he would get her attention despite the noise. He was worried about her, unaware where she was. He saw a flash of her hair before she appeared next to him. She looked a mess, but then again, so did he. She was bleeding from a cut along her neck, but Theo was just glad to see she hadn’t been bitten.
They had been before. It was fairly common when fighting their own kind. It was a way to make another vampire surrender, ingrained within their make-up along with the same stuff which made the smell of blood induce a flickering of hunger.
Theo darted further down the alley. It was likely there were other vampires around. This wasn’t a scuffle with borders. It was an invasion into the area around the library, which was as close a thing to Jakob’s territory as anything else. Considering all the pale figures looked alike, Theo shouldn’t have been able to tell who was with which faction. The faces were too hard to remember. But he knew, to some extent, which side someone was on in the same way he knew when a vampire was forced to surrender. It also meant, as far as others were concerned, he was on Jakob’s side. It was in the posture, in the way he wavered to one side over the other. The subtle movement of vampires around him. Things humans wouldn’t notice, but he had little trouble with. It was war. He couldn’t tell who was the sire of whom, but he could tell when a vampire no longer mattered within the scuffle. He still did, for example. Which wasn’t helpful for what he was doing.
“Over there,” said Patience at his side. Theo looked around, trying to catch what she had seen. The scent of blood helped him along just as much.
The doctor moved along the wall, like a shadow removed from its owner’s possession. His wife remained behind, turning to look around at the collected mass of fighters. Theo was focused on one thing at a time.
War is never simple. Even though this was selected, calculated, and respectful as best as it could be of the human residents … it was still a war. And in war, people played dirty. And they died.
Theo could smell burning to go with the blood.
The vampire had been away from the fighting. Theo didn’t know whether they’d been ambushed or whether they had been moved out of the way. But one of the older vampires hadn’t been thinking. Or, Theo thought sickly, they simply hadn’t cared.
The other vampire looked dead – and maybe they would die. Theo didn’t know how young they were, but he hoped to God they weren’t a native vampire of Blackwell. If they were, then there wasn’t much hope.
They’d been pushed up against a fence, still and unmoving. A stake had been driven into their chest. Theo knew from the smell that it was tipped with silver. The shaft of it wasn’t. Otherwise it would have been too hard to hold. Instead, it had been pressed into the vampire’s chest until it pinned them, then slowly began to burn.
Theo hurriedly pulled it out and tossed it away, disgusted. A wooden stake would have paralyzed just as easily. Going this far was cruel.
He hesitantly moved his hand over the abdomen of the vampire, trying to tell if there was any fresh blood flow or signs of healing. There was the faintest sense there. Maybe too faint. His fangs unsheathed, reopening a wound he’d already made in the palm of his hand, so he could drip some of his own blood into the vampire’s mouth. He’d run out of blood packets almost at the beginning of this mess.
He rested his other hand very lightly at the vampire’s throat, waiting for them to swallow.
After a second, a far too long one, they did. Theo breathed a sigh of relief.
Then he had his hand jerked away, the rest of him following. He was slammed into the neighboring wall, the breath getting knocked out of him by sheer dumb luck of him taking in one.
Theo hissed, his fangs biting into his bottom lip before he could retract them in time. His back had hit into the wall with enough force to crumble the masonry. But he didn’t have enough time to worry about a couple of scrapes.
“You bastard!” growled someone as they pulled him to his feet. Theo tried to get his tongue around the words that he was a doctor and not, in fact, trying to kill anyone. This vampire wasn’t with his grandson. They knew him, even if he didn’t know them. And the poor vampire still trying to heal about a dozen yards away wasn’t with Jakob either. Ergo, the obvious assumption, Theo thought tranquilly as he was about to be tossed again, was he had been trying to attack this vampire’s friend.
This toss wasn’t so successful. Theo had been expecting it and instead landed more or less on his feet. He might not have been a good fighter, but he was agile. His hands flew up, a fairly good attempt at the human sign for being unarmed. It never really worked well among vampires, but he was hopeful this was a vampire from Blackwell who hadn’t worked that out yet.
No luck. His eyes focused on the fact this wasn’t just any random vampire.
“Margolatta?” he asked in amazement. Then a knee was rammed into his chest, fracturing a rib, and he was pushed into another wall.
He knew Margolatta by reputation more than anything else. And as he flinched, he wasn’t too appreciative of the fact she had a reputation of not asking questions.
He rolled aside as the furious vampire attempted to attack him again. Fingers held out like claws and teeth bared. He was slow, and she grazed his shoulder, blood running down his arm from where she’d probably been attempting to rip it off. This wasn’t a fight where she was trying to have him surrender. This was a ‘you killed my kin, so I’m going to kill you’. Once again, he tried to get some sort of words out. Preferably that the other vampire was alive. But this was saying he was better at avoiding her blows than he actually was. Curling into a ball didn’t do much for vampires when you could break bones. He was smart enough not to do so. Instead, he attempted to get his legs under him as she reached for his throat. They both ended up going through the low wall, into someone’s yard. Theo felt dirt and grass get into his clothing as he tried to throw her off. She didn’t even have a weapon. Not uncommon for fighting, though some preferred knives or swords or some kind of stake. The foolish ones chose silver.
Her elbow ended up in his mouth as her grip slipped. Theo rolled, tasting blood. Hers, this time. He growled in pain as he jostled his fractured ribs and attempted once again to get to his feet. “Stop,” he muttered. “Your ward is –” The stake cut a thin line into the back of his calf, sending an unbidden scream from his mouth. She’d picked up the stake he’d tossed away. It burned like acid, his leg giving out as if she’d broken it. She hadn’t stabbed, but used it like a knife, cutting into him. Silver was remarkable similar to acid. It burned if kept in contact to a vampire. The younger they were, the more they reacted. If he’d been Amelie’s age, the wound would have been manageable. If manageable was just the level of pain as his fractured ribs. But he was half her age and for the time being that pain was all he could focus on.
It gave Margolatta time to grab him by the throat, pinning him to the ground, constricting his airway enough he couldn’t breathe to speak. Her face was a mask of anger, hate, and desperation. Small tracks of red – tears – were at the corners of her eyes. Not for him, Theo was certain of that. Desperation to bring back someone she was convinced dead. Theo bucked, trying to throw her off or to roll away. Unable to tell her there was nothing to bring back. Instead she kept him looking at her grief filled eyes …
Until he couldn’t look at anything anymore.
ORIGIN "Heartbroken: Silver and blood": This was just my funny little way out working out the exact way Theo was blinded. Margolatta has also turned up, yet again. She is a rather interesting vampire, with too much of a temper. She was the sort of ruler to behead people, if you get my drift. Still … Theo was caught in the crossfire of this. Being able to sense the loyalties of another vampire isn’t strictly how it works, but it is as close as Theo can explain it. It isn’t, in truth, how it works at all. But there are small adaptations which allow a vampire to know another’s status and state of being, in a way. Theo then can infer which side they are on in the terf war. But it was easier for me to explain the finer points of that in a different way.
Theo’s
Midnight snacks:
Sleepless NightHe wasn’t sure what time it was. But when he put a hand up to the curtains over his window and wasn’t scorched by the sun, Theo could safely assume it was still night. Theo let the curtains fall over the window again.
His wife was still in bed, tired from the long day. The space behind where Theo’s eyes had been was still throbbing a little, but since it had almost been a week, the vampire was fairly sure most of the feeling was in his head.
The flat of his hand pressed against the wall and he walked in the direction of the door. He counted his footsteps, estimating where the two chairs and steamer trunk were which he knew would block his path. Each step was hesitant as he reached out with his foot. His hand finally closed around the doorknob, which brought him some satisfaction. But it was soon flooded with a twist of frustration. Making it across his own room shouldn’t have been something he’d
need to be proud of.
He pushed the door open, looking around. No … tilting his head. Listening to the sound of sleeping, for the few humans who were in the house. Almost too faint to hear, truthfully. The vampires in the family were completely quiet.
He pressed a hand into the opposite wall, remembering the way down to the living room. At times like this, when his sense of night and day was thrown off slightly, he’d go down and read. Or try and interrupt a bit of dream hijacking, but that had thankfully stopped in recent months. But he didn’t exactly have that opinion tonight.
Maybe he’d wait up for Shirley and James. Though he wasn’t sure he wanted to face that either. However, he pulled himself together, since he was already this far into it. He lifted his head, relying on his memories to guide him in the direction of the living room. All the while, his hand was pressed against the wall, skimming over a doorframe or two when they interrupted him.
He paused, once he ran out of wall and was at the edge of the living room. The kitchen was a more logical option, he had come to realize, when he had gotten here. He turned in that direction instead, hand closing on that doorknob and pulling the door open. His head jerked in surprise when the sound of a shower turning on started above him. He relaxed after a second, once again using his hand to trace the edge of the wall. He walked to the fridge, finding the blood by smell alone. He almost knocked over one of the bottles anyway. He grabbed the package of bread of the counter as well. He drank the contents of the bottle without really tasting it, nor paying much attention. Some of the throbbing in his head eased. The bottle was set in the dishwasher and then slices of bread divvied out into the toaster. Theo rested against the counter, nerves crawling around his chest. He was facing a day full mostly of sleep since Patience would insist he should rest. In practicality, she was right. But it just made him want to do something more.
The toast clicked up. He pressed it down again.
The shower upstairs was shut off. He heard the soft sound of footsteps crossing the hall a second later, though they grew a little too muffled to tell whether it was one of the vampires who stayed shut up there making extra noise or if it was one of the early rising humans.
The toast returned yet again. He fingered it out, setting it on a plate. He made it to the table without mishap, which he was grateful for. He set the plate down, thinking about anything else he could do. There wasn’t anything he could think of, truthfully.
He used the edge of the table to guide him. His hand closed around the doorknob again and he exited the kitchen, leaving the plate of toast on it for Shirley and James.
He didn’t want to stay here and pretend he knew what to do.
ORIGIN "Midnight snacks: Sleepless Night": Theo getting blinded was something that happened. And after it happened he had to deal with it. This is during sometime during the first week, when he was still trying to heal wounds which couldn’t be healed. It was also one of the times where I had some small mention of Shirley and James. These being the current humans living under the Goldman roof. Mostly a filler story to get some feelings and actions to make a bit more sense in my head.
Theo’s
Embarrassment:
Story TimeTheo stretched, his hands above his head and a yawn escaping. “Tired?” asked Patience, an amused voice at his shoulder. Theo leaned over the elbow of the chair he was sitting in, considering the question as if it was a deeper one than it really was.
“No,” he said simply, a slight smile on his face. His fingers traced over the pattern sewn into the armrest. Red flowers, roses, if he remembered. Patience turned back, he heard, to the book she was holding. She’d been reading it aloud, in a low voice so as not to interrupt anyone in the nearby kitchen or the two boys out in the garage. Theo wondered if any of them would like the book.
Penny had somehow worked out how to make the computer do text-to-speech, which helped immensely, though he still was having difficulty with the keyboard. He’d have to figure something out about that. But she had also showed him how to get audiobooks, so at least he had something to occupy a night when he was awake. Patience, however, had noticed him fingering a book earlier in the day and had offered to read it. There hadn’t really been any argument. Theo had just politely agreed.
Patience paused for a second and Theo didn’t take any mind of it. She started again, anyway, and his attention moved back to the content. Occasionally, he would tune into the conversation going on in the kitchen – discussing something about Harquin, he was assumed from the out of context snippets he had heard – but for the most part, Theo payed attention to his wife’s voice. He reached out, squeezing her hand. Once or twice, he made a comment on what was happening in the story.
There was another pause, however, a couple minutes later. Again, Theo didn’t think of it. Patience shifted a little, her position on the couch causing some of the springs to complain. It was the older of the two couches.
The conversation in the kitchen stopped after a little, but Theo hadn’t been paying enough attention to wonder. It was when the familiar sound of Julius’ footsteps entered the living room that he let his head rise from the back of the chair. He let an eyebrow rise quizzically. “Come to listen?” he asked, amused.
“Might as well join the crowd,” said Julius, a hint of his own amusement making its way into his voice.
“Crowd?” questioned Theo. It took him a couple beats before he realized there
were more people in the room than just Julius. No heartbeats had made them a bit harder to detect, until his son-in-law pointed them out.
“Aaron …” he said accusingly. He felt his face coloring a little. He’d
thought it had just been him and Patience. “You could have spoken up.”
“Aurelia was here first,” muttered his grandson from the opposite couch. “I was just being quiet so to not interrupt.”
“I’m always quiet,” muttered Aurelia from over where the TV was. “I hardly see why this makes a difference. You were too busy fondling Grandmother’s hand. Why interrupt?”
“And yet,” muttered Julius, sitting down in one of the chairs. “When she talks, she manages to make it as coarse as ever.”
Aurelia didn’t say anything, but Theo already knew the sort of expression she’d be wearing.
He coughed, trying to not let go of Patience’s hand on the basis of his Granddaughter’s words. Julius made a point about her personality, as he well knew. “Well … if you’re here …”
He wasn’t really surprised when the rest of the awake and living household ended up coming along. It would probably result in the TV getting turned on, when all was said and down. Aaron was working on something that involved a pencil on paper while braced against the coffee table. Aurelia may or may not have been drifting in and out of a doze, since he could swear he heard her snoring sometimes. But the others might have enjoyed it – or at least the company.
He still ended up holding Patience’s hand, though it did interfere a bit when she was turning a page.
ORIGIN "Embarrassment: Story Time": Another one where Theo has been getting used to one less sense. This one I wanted to have a bit more of a personal feel. But then the family literally and figuratively butted in. Still … I’m satisfied. Harquin was mentioned, so ya? I like making references to minor characters. Shows I haven’t forgotten they exist.
Samuel’s
Entranced:
Faces in the mirrorThe hotel room was the exact opposite of Myrnin’s lab. It was also one which let him have his own room - and bathroom. Myrnin, upon seeing it, groaned, “The pictures are all uniform!”
“If you paint over them,” Lady Grey pointed out as she set her coat in a closet. “You’ll have to pay for them.”
“Not happening,” Myrnin grumbled. “This room is already ridiculously expensive.”
This seemed to amuse his girlfriend. Samuel had already set his small suitcase in his room. The view from the window was sunset, though he’d only taken a quick look from his own room. He hadn’t expected to be okay with the height.
“So …” said Myrnin after a while. He pointed toward the door. “I just have to take care of something for a couple minutes.” Lady Grey stood up. “Nice try,” she said. “But we have to go with you. This does have to do with Samuel, anyway.” Myrnin eyed the window. They’d closed them before Samuel had come in.
“Fine,” he said, but threw himself onto the bed instead. “But we’ll wait until the sun goes down.” Samuel figured he was just looking for an excuse to go off by himself, but he retreated back to his room regardless.
He kept away from the window for the most part, but he was in the other side of the building, so the shadow was better cast on this side. He approached the bed, collapsing face first into the pillows for a second.
A second later, he rolled over, looking at the ceiling. He was standing a bit later, walking into his bathroom. For a second, he stood there. Then he felt he shouldn’t look at the mirror. But his head slowly turned in that direction anyway. Slowly.
The first thing he wa was his own face. That was it. Vampires could still see their reflection. But then it warped. He was no longer looking at himself. Instead, it was an older man. Older than Myrnin and a little older than Oliver.
Bishop. He’d seen pictures.
And then the reflection shrunk a little, changing into ..
“No!” said Sam. “I’m not supposed to have you invade my dreams anymore!”
But that was only if she came in them. It didn’t stop Samuel from putting her in them himself.
He woke up, jerking back to attention.
The ceiling and the mirror overlayed until it was just the ceiling.
“Sam!” Lady Grey called. “It’s night. Time to go.” Sam pulled himself up and rushed out of the room, not looking toward the window.
ORIGIN "Entrenced: Faces in the mirror": Mirrors are a very important symbol for Sam. They reflect. And they don’t always reflect what you want to see. And there’s New York, which I am interested to explore!
People survive. It's the main theme, and a good closing, for what I like to show with a lot of my characters in the MV series, whether it's me writing canon characters or OCs. It's a very large theme of the story in general and this group of stories in particular. I hope you could pick it out!
'You say we're weak, but we'll keep showing you how many ways we can redefine strong'.