Roleplay City
Infusco => INFUSCO: Enter The Shadows => † OUT OF THE CITY † => Topic started by: Trillian on March 06, 2006, 08:15:05 AM
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Note: This is a continuation of a Neopets roleplay, with Vampire the Masquerade clan rules and such. Our central character, Clara, was embraced many centuries ago by a sire that left her after a single night, but was taken in and educated by a female vampire who taught her how to survive. For many centuries Clara existed without knowledge of her sire, why he turned her and left, if he was still around. They meet again, at a Masquerade Ball, and after he faces her he discovers that she doesn\'t quite recognise him. After some conversation, everything falls into place and they are now seated together on a wooden bench asking questions that have waited a long time to be asked.
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He was turned towards her, massaging her hands with his thumbs as he held them, gazing at her with a mixed expression of sorrow, guilt and hope. "I left to protect you," he explained. "I couldn\'t stay or the Camarilla would\'ve traced me to you, and executed us both." He lowered his gaze for a moment before looking back at her, wanting to explain himself further but unsure of how to phrase himself.
The silence between them extended. She hadn\'t told him she\'d forgiven him as yet, even at his prompt, and so he had to tell her what she needed to know in order to do so.
If she would do so.
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Her green eyes crossed his for a moment in a look of slight confusion. It seemed she could not fully grasp the situation, having been entirely new to the rules that had been explained to her.
"Why?" Clara asked quietly, unsure. "Why is it that now you can return?" She continued slowly, hesitant to any answers she was given, simply because she was put into such a submissive state.
She was never one to sit back and accept everything given to her. All of her years of wandering surely had proven such.
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It was a valid question.
"I couldn\'t. Even when I started looking for you, I couldn\'t. Now it\'s safer, the Camarilla have changed powers three times already - a constant struggle for power means that I\'m likely overlooked."
We can be together, he thought, but didn\'t wish to say such a thing in case she scoffed at him. Was there anybody else in her life apart from the woman who\'d taken her in?
"You deserved better."
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"Perhaps..." Clara had found herself saying, though she had wished her words to be silent.
Maybe she /had/ deserved better. Afterall, he had left her in the weakest state she had ever been. He had left her vulnerable to death, to anything that may have crossed her path and taken advantage of the situation.
So why, she wondered, did it seem more of a lie to tell herself such, than thinking of the life she may have had with him?
Shaking her head, Clara forced herself to look away, her eyes focusing on the enterance of the balcony for a moment, breathing a quiet sigh. She could not come up with the correct words to say, for so many had sprang upon her tounge wishing to be thrown upon her lips in an instant, all struggling at once to be spoken.
And thinking such, she had lightly chewed on her lip, enough to keep her busy for the time being, afraid to look at him, afraid to do anything.
Afraid. Something she hadn\'t been in quite a while...
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The threat of the Camarilla\'s discovery had been mostly what had made him leave her, the last little bit was the fear of responsibility. He\'d had to face this fact as he\'d searched for her, to make things right. Maybe she was sensing that not every tiny bit of truth was him protecting her, maybe she was angry at him for leaving her vulnerable. There were these plus many other hypothetical questions for her thoughts. There was no way of knowing what was going through her mind if she wouldn\'t share with him.
"Will you allow me to remain in your presence for a time?" he asked, knowing he was asking to be with her too early, phrasing himself so that it sounded more temporary, giving her the power to turn him away.
It was now he licked his lips, suddenly dry. He swallowed nothing, hearing a click in his throat as he waited for her verdict.
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Hearing his request, Clara had not known what to answer. Part of her had been fighting to simply get up and leave. To put the past behind her, and be content that she had at least stumbled upon the man who had claimed title as her sire.
Yet, the other part was more than willing to grant his request, allowing him to stay in order for her originial hopes to be restored, if that is what he had been searching for.
Still averting her gaze, her hands tensed lightly in his hold as her form had visibly froze. She did not want to sound eager, nor impolite.
"I suppose it would not hurt," Clara began weakly. "Granted your stay may be short." It wasn\'t quite what she had wanted to say, knowing she had simply come off as having hardly any interest in any advances.
But she was struggling with herself. She had believed him, but she still held a level of uncertainty, her trust having been shattered centuries ago.
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It was not the worst answer he could hear from her, but it was still one he hadn\'t wished to hear. As she tensed, he moved his hands away, placing them limply on his knees, and staring once again at the blank wall across from them as he was told she didn\'t want him around for any great length of time.
He felt like he\'d been sucker-punched, as though he hadn\'t seen this coming even though he\'d predicted as much. Still, it was one thing to predict and another to happen in reality.
He nodded, once again not trusting himself to speak. He\'d burned her by leaving, and though she\'d let him touch her, hold her, sit with her, talk to her... it did not mean she wanted him around her.
Could he change her mind? Should he even try to do so? Funny how he had played this over and over in his mind and he\'d planned what he\'d say and how he would react, but none of it seemed possible or plausible.
"How long are you in this city?" he asked once he collected himself.
He wondered how this would look to her. The answer she\'d given him leading him to pulling away and not saying a word until his question which had little to do with the answer itself.
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Clara furrowed her brow lightly as he pulled away, a new sense of emptiness and uncomfort passing over her. Her hands, now empty -- she found she did not know what to do with them.
Simply, she clenched the top layer of her skirts, looking down blandly upon small fists.
"A week or so... Give or take a few days," She answered numbly, not daring to bring her eyes upon him, knowing she had inflicted him enough with the simple words she had previously spoken.
And she felt she had to do something to make up for it. Anything at this point, for Clara found a sense of urgency to keep him near, no matter how she had not portrayed it.
Giving a small sigh, she kept her eyes upon her hands as she spoke. "I .. had not meant to say what I did..." Clara forced out. Perhaps her original words were a quick defense, not wanting to show that she had indeed still cared. "...It was unnecessary."
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A week. A single week. He\'d searched for centuries to spend a single week with her. Would it be enough to lay his obsession to rest? Would he learn enough from her to know that she was someone he wanted or wasn\'t someone he\'d expected?
His memory of that night they\'d spent together was so long ago, he\'d immortalised it in his mind - perhaps he\'d even made it more than what it was. The memory of wanting her so badly that he\'d rashly brought her into his embrace remained with him, however. Had she changed in that time?
He cast pale eyes her way, unreadable as they searched her face with her new words.
"What didn\'t you mean to say?" he queried, wanting to know exactly what she was referring to.
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Knowing she had to single out her statement, Clara swallowed a small lump that had formed in her throat.
"That..." She began quietly. "I\'d rather your stay be short." She repeated, never lifting her gaze from her skirts, merely afraid to.
"It... was a rash thing for me to say; I do not even know what came over me.." But Clara had quickly caught herself, ending her increase in words, knowing she was merely droning on, asking for a silent forgiveness. Even though she had yet to give him her own.
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"You haven\'t forgiven me," Torren began, his cool gray eyes oddly warm despite his words, but the reason they were was evident with his next statement. "But you want to."
He smiled lightly as the music changed, the dancing below turning into a softer step, a slower triple beat.
"Do you have anywhere to stay?"
All he had was an anonymous hotel room, and though it was nice, it wasn\'t the kind of grand establishment he would prefer to take her back to. Living on the move had meant his finances had been eaten away, and though he\'d had a generous amount of wealth to begin with, time spent through immortality had granted his full use of it.
Now he lived off the wallets of the humans he drank from, and very few people carried much cash with them anymore.
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As Clara lifted her gaze to his own, she looked quite taken by his comment, a bit upset with herself that she had made it so known.
"There\'s a manor just down the road," She began, nodding slightly as she had brushed his comment off as best she could, trying to look unphased. "The one whom had taught me everything... She resides there." She explained softly, her grip on her skirts loosening a little.
She needed her previous glass of wine... Anything to lessen the tension that ran through her. Afterall, he had read her simply like a book. Perhaps she was not as secretive as she had initially thought.
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And perhaps he was only seeing what he wanted to see, and merely happened to be correct because of who Clara was.
Torren stared at her with his past intensity, listening to her talk about the manor, about her educator (someone Torren was indecisive about seeing - he wanted to meet her and wanted to avoid her, the contradiction putting him at unease)
"Did you want to dance, first?"
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Clara blinked lightly as he had asked her to dance, pausing in the slightest to answer.
She hadn\'t danced in ages...
Granted, she had attended unaccountable balls, she was always the one to travel through the crowds and watch.
In honesty, she knew she was not near as good as she used to be.
But, she found herself unable to deny his request as she nodded almost timidly.
"That would be wonderful.." Clara spoke lightly, silently scolding herself for her actions. One moment she was spouting thoughts of not forgiving him, the next she was agreeing to a simple dance with him...
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He stood first, extending his hand for her to take and then offering his arm for her to hold onto. Offering a dance was his way of familiarising themselves with each other once more in a way that would hopefully be non-intrusive.
He didn\'t know how else to behave around her. He\'d over-analysed it, so that almost nothing felt natural. He\'d forced his thoughts aside and simply offered her what had felt right at the time.
A dance.
He would lead her steps, have her follow him in the same sort of subtle maneouvres he\'d managed when they\'d first met. It was a dance as well, of emotions, attraction and acting on impulses.
It wasn\'t long before they were on the dancefloor, her hand in his, another at her waist, hers on his shoulder as they stepped in a pattern mirrored by those around them.
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She merely followed him weakly, her arm woven with his as her eyes fell across the dance floor that they had approached. And for that brief moment in time, she felt as if none of her thoughts and reminders from the past could stop her from simply accepting his gesture, allowing him to lead her.
Her hand found its way loosely in his own as her other lightly fell upon his shoulder, the slightest distance between each other to move freely. Her steps followed his in sync, and she was almost hesitant to even make eye-contact.
For, ever since his accusation, no matter how true it had been, Clara hadn\'t the will to speak much, nor hold any actions, afraid she would give herself away even furthur. Or perhaps she hadn\'t... Perhaps he had known her well enough, despite their short time together.
Afterall, they did share the bond after all of this time.
She found herself drifting into the sleepy motions of the dance, almost moving closer to him in a reminder of what once was so long ago...
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As he\'d been flawed as a human, he was flawed as a vampire, and no doubt she had her own - but as they danced, such things as reality had no place here, the personality she barely knew other than he\'d searched all over for her, the woman he had no idea of save one night that had stayed in his memory.
Recollection could be a miserable prankster, changing her into something perfect, disallowing her to live up to the standards of an intangible expectation. Whether or not she had expectations of him, he most certainly had them of her - not consciously, but she\'d been built up in his mind into a goddess. She had become his Galatea.
The dance consumed him for all he could see was Clara, the music fitting the dreamy expression of her face, one he\'d adored many centuries ago. As they stepped lightly together, he found himself leading her to the edge of the dancefloor until the music changed once more and they were away from the hum of the crowd.
He adjusted some strands of her hair, shifting it unnecessarily behind her ears because he had to do something intimate, and smiled at her. "More?" he asked, not wanting to dance further but giving her the option. He wanted to be alone with her now, to bathe in her presence without possible interruption.
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Standing in his soft hold, Clara found no will to pull away nor protest. Her green eyes slowly found their way to his, basking in the sweet sensation of a flitting touch across her cheek as he shifted her hair.
Shaking her head in the slightest, she had still been caught up in the moment; trapped between swirls of music and an embrace long since forgotten. Or perhaps they had spun far too much within the dance...
Her hands slowly came to rest gently upon his chest, her thoughts having been thrown away wistlessly. Her fingertips absentmindedly crossing the soft material of his shirt, she found herself shaking her head in the slightest.
"No..." Clara spoke quietly, feeling as if she had been thrown back to the night where they had initially met. "I\'m content with merely one.." She voiced out, not allowing much thought towards her words at all.
As far as she knew, she was mortal again, with him, so long ago when she hadn\'t a care to what her thoughts were telling her, nor where her strides had led her.
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He nodded, once, at her statement, then entwined his fingers on her own. It was wrong of him, of course, to be so familiar with her, but after searching for her for centuries and assuming that she had expected it of him (though logically his mind told him she would know no such thing, his heart still believed that she had waited for him to find her), Torren\'s familiarity with her was something so natural that he didn\'t give it a second thought. Only if her reaction was to pull away would he realise his silent demand.
He tugged gently on her now, to lure her away from the crowd and into the open air, out of the ballroom and into the foyer, hoping to move past the main doors and into the gardens where they could talk with the orchestral music in the background rather than swirling into a cresendo around them.
"Come with me," he said, words that mirrored his request a lifetime ago, when she\'d trusted him and he\'d used that trust to grant her a gift he should\'ve thought twice about.
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Her thoughts were swirling, reeling into a mass of blank confusion and haze, and she wasn\'t quite sure if it had been a good thing or not. His touch had sent sparks within her, an old sensation coursing through her.
She had welcomed it with wary arms, caught up in a moment that she had thought never possible.
Clara\'s eyes crossed his and for a moment, even in it\'s smallest, she had hesitated. Simply hearing his request had made her pause in a recollection she would have rather ignored. It seemed she had simply planted herself in a moment of realization at words that had echoed through her mind for centuries.
"W-what?" She asked weakly, almost snapping out of the dream she had been enjoying, suddenly placed back... Back into that one moment in time.
But no; Things were different now. She hardly knew why she felt the intent to follow him; Actually listen to him, instead of frantically performing every precise detail of her own revenge.
Perhaps she had wanted him with her all of this time; Yearned to be with him just as she had that night, even though it had been short-lived. No; she could not bring herself to kill him as she had once wanted to, but she could not quite bring herself to stay either.
However, Clara would grant his former request. She was curious... She needed to settle her thoughts, possibly to prove herself wrong, or to perhaps, find companionship, which she had lost entirely throughout the past years.
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[ooc] godmoding the pair of them a bit, let me know if she\'ll interrupt his path, I can retreat to that point [/ooc]
They moved outside together, looking more like longtime lovers and less like reacquaintances as they headed onto the path from the front door, mindless of the staff who were ensuring visitors were having a good time, not being disturbed by any of them as they wandered down the path that turned to the right. They followed it into the majestic display of flora, ferns and lushly leaved trees, flowering shrubs that assaulted their sensitive smell with a perfume that was rich and heady, a small and well-designed lake and tiny waterfall feature splash lightly in the near distance.
There was an ornate garden bench overlooking a pretty vista of the garden, near some rose bushes, and on the way to it Torren reached down and plucked a white rose before he was seated, guiding her to sit with him.
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She had sat down rather quietly, her form stiffening in the slightest as she allowed her green eyes to drift. Crossing the flowers and plants surrounding them, Clara found herself biting her lip just lightly, barely noticable.
For, she was put on edge with that simple phrase, and being alone with him, away from the party had kept her rather alert.
Maybe she hadn\'t fully trusted him still... It may take some time for her to become even accustomed to his presence.
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With the rose in his hand, he slowly held it out toward her as though urging her to smell its perfume, but he touched the petals softly against her lips instead, the touch light and sensitive, dew from the rose likely tasting sweet in the chill air - a cold that likely neither of them would feel.
He was looking at the rose as he guided it across her lips before his gaze drifted up to peer into her green eyes. It was an intense stare he gave her, for he looked at her as though she were not only an object of desire but also one that he possessed - attainable.
No words were spoken.
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Somewhere between thoughts of lost trust and lost love, she had become lost herself. For it seemed she would never escape her own mind, wishing desperately to let go of the past and hold on to the future right in front of her. Yet it taunted her... Taunted her to the point of mere confusion and fog which she could not escape.
However, the soft sensation against her lips and the sweet smells that were brought to her senses had pulled her easily away from her troublesome self, her green eyes falling closed for a simple moment, basking in the presence of Torren, and the wonderful scent and tantalizing touch upon her lips.
Clara had ached to go back. She wanted to go back to the time where she did not care nor placed any thought to what she was doing. She wanted to go back, to where it was just the two of them, no hesitation, only mere instinct.
And as her eyes opened slowly to meet his, she knew he had wanted her.
Even if his actions and mere presence had not radiated it enough, it seemed she had only now come to fully realize it.
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He smiled, tentatively at first, then upon her reaction it widened and fixed itself firmly on his face, warming his light coloured eyes. The rose was then lowered, to stroke at her hand, across fingers and along the back.
"Do you miss anything?" he asked, wondering if the lack of sunshine on her face was something she would resent him for. He\'d not created anyone to be like him, and all he remembered after his own embrace was the despair he\'d had for his sire.
Did she hate him as much as he\'d hated the one who\'d brought him into their fold?
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It took her a moment to fully decipher what he had asked, but her green eyes remained focused on his for the time being.
"I.. suppose." Clara began softly, looking away as her gaze had rested on her hand, watching the rose silently, feeling it\'s soft petals dance across her skin.
"But one learns to forget those things as time passes on." She replied. "I guess each vampire yearns for the feel of the warm sunlight every so often. It is only natural, of course." The girl continued breathing the smallest of sighs.
"And... I suppose I missed my family once..." A small pause ensued, her eyes only maintaining its blank gaze upon the rose. "But ... perhaps that is only natural as well." Looking back up to him, her head tilted in the smallest of angles.
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Torren nodded as she explained candidly what had used to cause her grief but now she was obviously used to it.
"The smell of a rose is more alluring," he told her, reminding of what she had gained in return for what she had given up. "Every sight and sound is clear and colourful." He leaned over to gently nuzzle against her jaw and neck. "Every touch sensitive," he said with lips brushing against her skin as he spoke. "And you\'re as perfect as the night we met," he moved back slightly, positioning himself as though for a kiss, but if she wanted that from him she would have to request it with a tilt of her head.
He\'d wanted her then, he wanted her now. He\'d been a coward, to run from her. He knew this about himself, it shamed him. Yes, he\'d protected her in doing so, but it was the easy way to protect himself as well.
He hoped she would forgive him.
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Perhaps she was driving herself crazy with allowing herself to be so distant, with the man whom she had once loved sitting merely in front of her. He was so close, and his soft embrace and slow touches thus occuring, she was begining to inwardly writhe with the inward yearn to be his own once more.
But her damn persistancy... Why did she have to continue with such stubborn behavior? True, she did not want to quite fall into his arms at the first sight of him, originally filled with the spite she had created on her own. But now, now that he had fully explained himself, and she had understood, she found it harder to further her act.
Clara was earlier convinced that she could at least survive one night maintaining her own, never succumbing to the want that had sparked on his initial arrival. No, she knew she could last, and at least draw out his obvious longing for her... if not for a punishment.
But it had turned into punishment for herself as well, finding herself wanting to return such attention, yet remaining frozen and almost distant.
But gods... his breath upon her neck as he had spoken was enough to send her over the cliff, diving for what she wanted no matter what the consequences. Her green eyes had even slipped closed on their own accord, giving into the mere delight of such closeness and slight intimacy that he had shown her, missing what she once was given.
And as he pulled back in the slightest, her eyes had met his and in that moment, she had even considered in giving in... At least for a second. At least to feel his lips against her own.. relishing in what was lost.
With such greedy thoughts, Clara found she could not resist. And with the simplest tilt of her head, she had moved to close the space between them, forcing down her defence if not from there on out, than at least temporarily.
Gods, did she miss him so.
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He met her movement, seeing her acceptance and wanting to act quickly upon it, lest she change her mind in the same dalliance of a moment. As their lips touched, they seemed to spark. He pressed forward further, more firmly, before the tip of his tongue peeked out and brushed softly across her parting lips, remembering the taste of her and allowing her to know him as intimately.
Hands drifted upward even as he twisted himself on the seat to make her more comfortable, fingers sliding up her cheeks to cup her face, holding her as the kiss lingered, fingertips now in the delicate curls of her clipped back hair, finding one of the fastenings and itching to pull it out, to let her hair fall. She would not approve, he thought.
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What was she doing? All thought and protest seemed to be thrown immediately out of the way in such a simple action that fufilled at least some part within her.
It was in that quick contact, their lips meeting, that Clara had come to realize just how much she had truely missed him, giving into her own persistancy to at least enjoy this one moment, pressing towards him as her lips were firmly upon his. And as she felt his tounge graze her lips, she let out a small, uneven breath, missing such worhtwhile sensations, before she had pressed towards him again.
Thin hands had come to rest upon his chest before moving up slowly over his shoulders, cupping the back of his neck just slightly.
It was then, she wondered, if she would be able to keep up her defying act.
Perhaps she should just give in now..
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He explored every sensation that the kiss allowed him - other than sight, for his eyelids had slipped shut over his pale gaze so that he could be consumed by her. Taste, smell, touch were enhanced even further with the removal of his vision. His mind saw her clearly enough, for he\'d kept her picture in there for centuries.
The sound of chirruping crickets, the light breeze rustling gently through shrubs and trees around them, the smell of her and the fresh night air, her perfume which had struck him vividly - the same scent, flowery and youthful. It all combined to make this night as perfect as the night they\'d met.
The kiss was broken, if only to pull back and look at her, stroking her face and hair gently, wonderously. "Be with me," he asked, breaking his promise to himself about taking things slowly, about giving her time to adjust. He\'d thought he could wait, but he couldn\'t, he wanted her to come with him now, back to the rooms he\'d rented, to be together as they should\'ve been all that time ago.
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She thought she would be able to deny him, to simply move on with her life after this next week or so of his presence, if only to fufill the longing within her by his mere presence.
Yet, that longing had increased seven fold as she had slipped into his kiss so quickly, practically melting in his arms with such rememberance, fully missing what they had once had. The similar kisses they had always shared.
As he had broken the kiss, Clara had reluctantly pulled gently away as well, not daring to remove her hold on him, however. Her eyes had slipped slowly open to reveal a dreamy and somewhat dazed look upon her features as she had heard those simple words.
The words that she would never admit to wanting to hear all night.
She moved forward slightly, pressing her forhead gently against his as she had closed her bright green eyes for a mere second, swallowing the small lump that had formed within her throat.
Should she just throw away the inward struggle, and allow herself to be consumed by him once more? The temptation was clear enough, and she was ready to give in at the next second.
Lifting her eyes to his again, a soft smile tugged at her lips as she kissed him gently. Pulling back to allow her lips to hover over his, she had finally chosen to speak. "...Forever," Her breath fell across his lips as her eyes had met his.
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[ooc] What year is this currently set? [/ooc]
Torren smiled at her with the tiniest smile, most of the light of it transferring to his eyes as they gazed at her. Lowering his hands from her face to her upper arms, they flit slowly down, past her elbow and along to her wrists so that he could move them off his neck. He took her hands, standing up and with his movement, ensuring that she was to stand also.
"Let\'s walk," he said quietly, not needing volume to be heard over the soft noises of the night. A hand snaked around her back to hold her waist and pull her close before he stepped toward the path. Only if she hesitated would he pause, otherwise they would stroll further into the gardens, due east.
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| Early 1600\'s. -doesn\'t have an exact year- -cough- |
Small shivers were sent down her spine as he had slowly moved his hands down her arm, and she allowed herself to be pulled up slowly. Standing, she had straightened herself for a moment, allowing her to be brought closer to him.
Clara nodded silently as he had spoken, leaning slightly against him as they had began to walk, completely content in his hold, missing his mere presence, and basking in it while it lasted.
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They walked through the large gardens, every now and then Torren would point out something of interest such as a pretty collection of lillies in a man-made pond, or a small animal foraging for food in the near distance. Most of the time he would look ahead at the path or at her, hardly believing she was on his arm.
The path ended at an exit in the surrounding gates, and a well-suited gentleman to ensure security at the party bid them a good afternoon as they approached.
"My carriage is a short walk up the street," he nodded to their left, and he could see where it was parked further up the street, beneath the flickering light of a street lantern.
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It was so surreal, to be walking with him through such gardens. Never did it cross Clara\'s mind, that she would be held in his embrace once more in such a way...
An old warmth had been brought from within her, and she had begun to feel complete again, hardly believing that he was the one next to her.
With a small nod, she had simply responded to his comment, her gaze drifting ahead to follow his towards the carriage they would be leaving in.
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The carriage he took her to was understated, a taxi in fact. He didn\'t have his own carriage and driver, for the travel he took limited the possessions he had.
Opening the door for her and helping her up the step, he climbed in after her once slipping the driver payment for waiting. The clip clop of the horses and rumble of the wheels were strangely soothing, and all he could do on the ride was to stare at her. Likely conversation would not be started by him, though should she ask him something, his attention would not be diverted by anything else.
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She had easily slipped inside to sit rather close to him, her eyes roaming her surroundings for a brief moment before falling upon her clasped hands that rested gently in her lap. Perhaps she should say something, anything to break the silence that had followed.
Chewing her lip in the slightest, Clara had looked over to him for a moment, a brief blush moving about her cheeks as she had caught his attention upon her.
"...What is it?" She asked quietly, fiddling with her hands almost nervously.
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"I don\'t want to look away in case my mind is playing a very cruel trick," he said with a chuckle, not embarrassed to say such a thing - and more. "If I look away I worry you might disappear again, float into the very air as an hallucination."
He reached his hand to take hers. "Do you believe that a fresh love can last so long? I believe it."
It was obvious what he was telling her.
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It was apparent Clara was still attempting to get used to such attentions once more, still blushing in the slightest at his words.
She missed him so, and it was quite apparent as she had squeezed his hand gently, moving slightly closer to rest her head on his shoulder. His presence was enough to comfort her, yet she had felt that the next night she would wake up from this dream, and still find herself alone.
Fate did not like her as much, proving what had happened centuries back.
The smallest of sighs escaped her lips as she closed her eyes for a mere second, listening to his breathing and the gentle rocks of the carriage.
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Upon arrival to their destination, they had passed grand mansions and stately gardens. These had given way to smaller but no less finer, houses of good taste and design. Closer to the general population as the carriage moved further into the city the houses became apartments in buildings tall but narrow, then a modest area was reached that was in between those with money and those without - in this location it was well known crime was a problem, but it was also dealt with rather than to run amok.
The carriage came to a halt and so he left it first to give her a helping hand down. The building they\'d stopped in front of was three stories high, narrow but long as it was at the corner of an alleyway. An entrance with three stone steps to a double door made it appear like a house, not merely a cluster of apartments. Clara would soon see there were six in total, two on each floor, and that she was to climb one flight of stairs to see where it was Torren lived.
He paid the driver, then the taxi clip-clopped away, leaving him to smile at her before offering his arm to lead her inside.
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Her gaze crossed her surroundings curiously, bright eyes passing across each building as she had moved closer to him instinctively upon exiting from the carriage.
It was true, she was used to the prospect of the calm neighborhood she had housed in, but with his smile she was quickly assured that everything was fine. Perhaps she had been slightly sheltered by her teacher...
Without much hesitation, Clara had accepted his arm, weaving her thin arm through his, allowing him to lead her up the steps towards the building, curious of where he had been living temporarily.
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It was humble, but clean. The corridor was stark, the carpet worn in places but once had a majestic bouyancy to it that was faded with many footsteps treading over it. The stairs were wooden and some creaked, but they\'d been swept and their banister polished recently by someone who cared enough about the building to do so.
The first floor landing was reached and Torren glanced at her, his smile a little unsure now as they were getting closer to his place. By her dress and the party she\'d been invited to (that he\'d talked his way into), he knew she was used to luxury beyond what he currently had. He needed for nothing, but he didn\'t want a large house or a fine carriage, unnecessary things to pack and take with him while he searched the world for her - and he couldn\'t afford them anyway.
He pulled out of her grasp so he could take the key from his pocket and unlock the door to his current home. Inside was furniture that belonged to the owner of the building, not him, and it was decorated in much the same way, with threadbare carpet and clean walls of unremarkeable colour.
The furniture was simple, comfortable and practical. There were a few ornaments around that made it homely, and though it was a nice enough place to stay, it didn\'t seem to come from him or his personality - what she knew of it in any case. It was of a minimal nature, one armchair, one sofa, one bookcase, one end table in the lounge. The kitchen and dining room was small, a square dining table with four wooden chairs nestled around. There was a bathroom with indoor plumbing, which meant the building wasn\'t as old as she first thought - simply overused by many tenants in its short life. And the bedroom door, which was closed, at which he pointed out but did not take her to show her.
"Would you like to sit?" he asked, now unsure of himself as she was in his home, seeing his life.
-
Her eyes fell around the room curiously, noting that most of it had not come from his own style, but she had assumed it was due to the fact that, like he had earlier mentioned, such accomodations were only temporary. And however plain it might have been, it did have it\'s homey feelings, not to mention his comfortable presence that had consumed the entire room.
That alone was enough to allow her to relax.
Clara tilted her head towards Torren, and with a soft smile, she gave the smallest of nods. "Yes, thank you.." She spoke oddly polite, hardly as used to the situation as she should have been.
Surely years ago she would have sat herself down, and had even sprawled out on the couch comfortably, even looking through his stuff curiously. But, things still had seemed rather awkward, and she was even almost afraid of making a wrong move.
In fear of disapproval, perhaps?
Though she had convinced herself initially that she would not care, she found herself worrying over the simplest of things. Such as whether she had appeared okay, if she were making the right reactions, if she was coming off the wrong away.
It seemed she had rather cared for his approval, her subconcious already having plans to stay with him.
-
He turned to the sofa, which sat two, and gestured for her to sit first. When she sat, he would lower himself upon the cushions also and stare at her for a long moment before reminding himself that it made her feel awkward (for each time he did so, she questioned him).
He could not offer her food or drink, because of what he had done to her, but saw that she still breathed after all these centuries of not needing to. Habit was a funny thing, and he\'d slowly lost his. He watched her as her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her drawing in unnecessary breath and then releasing it. After a moment of this he realised he was staring at her bosom, and so lifted his gaze lest she get the wrong impression.
"Now that I\'ve received the results of my search, I find myself at a loss for what to do," he said with half a laugh. The amusement was genuine, though a bit fearful in the truth that he would not know how to keep her entertained and himself occupied.
-
Perhaps it was the silence of the room, the feeling of his eyes upon her, or the fear of not knowing what to do next... But Clara had begun to grow quite nervous. And the emotion itself was quite foreign to her, finding herself commonly submerged in either spite, or even hardly any emotion at all.
And here she was, acting like the young girl she had once used to be, as if she had simply met someone new and they were thrust into the hardly touched relationship between them.
Her green eyes were turned away from him as she had looked over the room once more, hardly noticing that he had been staring at her, though she was aware his eyes were on her form.
Though, submerged in such silence, buried within her taunting thoughts, she had given the smallest of jumps at his voice. Attempting to cover it in her best, she only nodded with a slight smile to his comment.
"It is quite difficult, is it not?" She began softly, leaning back into the couch, her form untensing in the slightest as she breathed a sigh. "Not being able to slip back into what once used to be, I mean." Clara had continued, her eyes slipping closed for the smallest of seconds to even consider her own words.
Gods, she had wished it was that easy.
-
[ooc] muse ran off, have tied her down for a bit but forcing her to help me so posts might not be that great >_< [/ooc]
"A fresh start it would have to be." He twisted in his seat and took both her hands in his, massaging the backs of her hands with his thumbs, circling them on her pale white skin. "Tell me, what do you remember of the night we shared? What scene plays in your mind?"
His eagerness to relive their past immediately after he\'d told her that they were to have a fresh start was a contradiction in terms, but this was Torren\'s manner - his spontaneity was not only in his siring of her, but also appeared in many other ways.
-
Clara opened her green eyes to him slowly as she had felt his thumbs graze over the back of her hands. She took such comfort in that simple little actions, yet, she had not showed it.
Perhaps she was still afraid to show those emotions in front of him..
Breathing the smallest of sighs, she looked away. "It was a long night, Torren..." She had began, crossing her gaze to fall upon the room for a moment. Her brow furrowed and almost a pained expression flitted across her features, but she did well to hide it as soon as it had come.
"The night before was that of a simple little meeting. I was rather naiive, and, though I had seemed happy, I was quite lonely in my mortal life. It was only natural for me to take immediate interest in one who had bestowed the same upon me. Which is why I showed no struggle in meeting you at one of the taverns as you had asked."
"\'Delusions\', it was called... And though it was odd to see a girl of nineteen in such a time to be sitting at a bar alone, let alone even in the bar, I had went, if only to grant your request."
"After you had walked in, we did not stay in the tavern for long... You... took your hands in mine, and we had strolled across town. I suppose, we had simply been enjoying each other\'s company, no matter how late at night it was. I hardly took notice to any form of time at all..."
"You always seemed to have that effect, you know. I was hardly aware of anything else when you were close, that night."
"We had eventually walked towards a wooded area, following any path we could find, tempting each other with the smallest of touches, the quickest of kisses..." Clara took in a small breath, letting it out rather slowly as she had spoken in the softest of tones, hardly wishing to recall that night. She had missed it, achingly so.
"It was only a matter of time when we had both given into each other. We came across the clearing, and... well, you seemed more eager than I. And after what had seemed like eternity of tempting movements and consuming actions... You had made your move. Turned the sweetest of actions into that one moment that had made my own time stop." she turned her gaze back to him.
"You could only imagine the detachment I had felt upon your departure..." Clara had concluded softly, watching his features for any sort of reaction at all.
-
As he listened to her relive the moment they had shared, a tiny frown marred his brow. It was so detached of emotion, so antiseptic that he worried if this was the way she had coped when he\'d left - to remove herself from her emotions, to speak of such things as if they might\'ve happened to someone else.
"I remember it somewhat differently," he said softly, his thumbs no longer brushing over her skin but paused now, simply holding her hands in his own. "When we met at the tavern, you\'d taken such a risk to meet with me. I was surprised to see you, but glad for it. I could never imagine a woman such as yourself would bother to give me time. We talked a while, shared opinions, and I found myself..." he hesitated here, wondering how to phrase his thoughts. He simply continued, explaining in a rush. "I found myself wanting to discover everything about you, all at once. To consume you, to make you mine. I thought spending a little more time with you, alone, would change my mind - so that was why I offered the walk. I remember you debated for a moment, unsure whether to leave the safety of the tavern but wanting to be with me. You\'d taken one risk, so it was easier to take a second, and a third." He smiled sadly, glancing down at their hands as he said the rest. "So I led you away, seduced you, was selfish enough not to think of the consequence of any of my actions. I wanted you, so I did my best to have you. You looked so beautiful in that one moment, your cheeks flushed pink and your eyes bright, your breasts heaving for air that I hadn\'t tasted for centuries but could taste on your lips. So I took you completely, and then I realised afterward, the damage I\'d done."
His eyes remained on their hands, unable to look at her, for the shame. Her tale had been detached, and his filled with emotion. This was a clue as to how they were currently dealing with the situation they were now thrown in.
-
It seemed that the only way she could have coped with such a mess, was what he had feared. Clara had attempted to simply detatch herself from what had happened, allowing everything to come out in her own anger, through her bloodlust. Perhaps, through this, she had caused more damage upon herself, yet she had welcomed the numb feeling that had greeted her after it was all over.
And when she had finally began to escape it all, when the memories had become hazy and distant... There he was; Back to renew it all.
And she was afraid again.
Listening to his tale, his own point of view, had only added to that sudden emotion that she had not felt in the longest of times. For, she had been wrong about so much. She had formed her own lies in an attempt to numb her pain with falsehoods. But she was wrong about every little thing.
It was enough for her to simply throw it all away, to allow the time to pick up as if nothing had faultered between them. But Clara knew better... She was no longer a naiive mortal, but around him.. she seemed as such.
Swallowing lightly, Clara had dropped her gaze as well, her green eyes resting upon their hands. She hadn\'t a clue as to what to say to him. She hadn\'t a clue what to do...
-
Rebecca, usually attentive to her adopted fledgling, had lost track of her amid the swirl of colors on the dance floor. The masquerade ball had been the perfect opportunity to take her charge to a proper function after making sure she was dressed in a costume that reflected the Venetian style all proper men and women scurried to imitate. She had forgotten how large these gatherings could be and the masks everyone wore had confused her greatly when she finally realized the fledgling was no longer by her side.
When she had gained her senses and began tracking her by scent instead of sight, she found herself zigzagging through the crowd and then the gardens outside. The bench Clara had been at only served to frustrate her further, because as she ran her slim fingers over the back, she caught the faintest taint of another vampire mingling with the scent of her precious one.
The suspicion that her gullible little companion had been coaxed away from her protection had only been confirmed as she followed it toward the road and the sprinkling of taxis that waited to carry guests home after a tiring night of dancing and drinking. It had required using all her skills of persuasion to convince the same taxi driver that had taken her Clara from the ball to tell her if she’d been accompanied by anyone, and several coins to persuade him to take her to the apartments.
Scouring every floor and checking every door had taken far too much of her time, but she was finally rewarded by the sound of Clara’s voice.
The blonde woman had cause to hesitate at the door, her hand gripping tightly at the frame as a male’s deeper voice assaulted her ears. Brown eyes the color of dried leaves widened and then narrowed in anger as she caught the short history he gave of their meeting. How dare he enter Clara’s life again after she’d made sure the girl had proper tutelage? She had risked everything by taking the fledgling in and teaching her of the way of Kindred. She had taken the girl in, confused and abandoned; made sure she did not become a rogue with a price on her forehead, made her into something exquisite. And now he was here to wallow in the product she had a hand in creating?
Rebecca turned slowly to close the door quietly behind her and then, with a rustle of fabric, made her way toward pair. “That is very sweet,” she said. “But have you forgotten something?” She stood squarely in front of them, hands on her hips and mask dangling forgotten by her wrist. “You discarded her like a broken toy after bedding and turning her.”
She smiled, and it was a sickly sweet thing. “You ran from your ‘mistake’.” She held out her hand then. “Come, Clara. It’s time we go home.” The vampire did not think for a moment that Clara might not want to return to the manor with her. Her stance said that clearly enough. Why would she say no? He had disappointed her, after all.
-
At first he was surprised by the intrusion and the interruption, but it wasn\'t difficult by the sight of the mask at her wrist and the gown that she wore that this woman was from the ball he\'d met his Clara in - and she\'d told him that she had a woman take her in after he\'d abandoned her. Here the woman was in the flesh, and so he released his Clara and stood, so that he could meet this woman\'s gaze without being frowned down upon (changing it to being frowned up at).
"Clara and I have much to catch up on," he replied, then introduced himself properly. "I do not wish to follow one mistake with another. I thank you from my heart for taking her in, caring for and teaching her. My name is Torren, in case Clara has not breathed my name."
The hairs at his nape prickled with the threatening glare this woman was using on him. He understood her irritable demeanor, and marvelled at her resourcefulness to be able to track her charge all the way to his home, but understanding did not mean he had to cater to her demand - for he wanted Clara here, with him.
-
It was no suprise that Clara had let her guard down just enough, consumed by a raging argument within her, to jump at the sound of her teacher\'s voice.
As if she were a child again, she had pulled her hands away from Torren\'s almost immediately, afraid to have been seen mingling as such, showing even the slightest bit of fondness towards him. She had been caught, and she was rather foolish to believe Rebecca would not find her.
But with the invitation (or rather, proclamation) of returning to the manor, returning to her safe haven, Clara found that she hardly wished to return. At least, not at the moment.
Her eyes followed Torren\'s actions, and she had stood soundly behind him, her gaze trailing towards Rebecca, a frown adorning her features.
"Rebecca," The girl began softly, almost hesitant to voice what she wished. "He... is right. We.. do have much to catch up on."
It seemed she had been far more interested than she had initially let off. And almost a sense of desperation welled within her at the prospect of being taken back home, away once more.
-
“She hadn’t,” she confirmed after the man, but a few years beyond being a fledgling himself, stood. Rebecca could have gone without knowing the beast’s name, but it would be hard to have a conversation with him if she continued to label him as such. “That, as well, is very sweet, but was it so hard to find and tell me that you were going to be taking off with my Clara?”
She dropped her hand when the fledgling didn’t automatically grasp it and there was a look of sharp confusion in her gaze. “Why? You already know he left you. What more is there for you to learn?”
Death was in her eyes as she faced Torren again. He would not take Clara from her. She did not care how much they pleaded, the girl would find sanctuary from dawn at her home, under her wing. It had been that way for years, and it would remain so.
-
He looked into the turbulent rich brown gaze of the woman before him, known to him as Rebecca but not because she had introduced herself - rather he\'d caught the name as it was uttered from Clara\'s lips.
"It was a walk we went upon, and one thing led to another - I had no idea that I should\'ve informed you because I hadn\'t intended on coming here until..." he looked now at Clara and a small smile came to his lips before he turned back to face Rebecca with a humble expression. "It was with feeling, without forethought." He shook his head. "I meant no disrespect."
-
|Ah geeze, I have like... three things up at once. I\'m a mess. x3 |
Clara furrowed her brow at Rebecca\'s retort, moreso because she knew that her statement was true. She did not need to know anymore than she already had once known, but something had kept her there.
Whether it was the fleeting temptation to get to know him further than she had before, or just the hope of his touch bestowed upon her once more, she could not tell.
All she knew, was that she was not about to leave so soon.
"Rebecca, please." Clara sighed quietly, her focus solely upon the taller girl. "If anyone, you should be the most to understand why I am here." Anyone who hadn\'t even known her, would have even been aware of her radiating lonliness and yearn for something that she, herself could not place.
-
"Just as it was when you deliberately ignored the law stating you must visit your Prince to gain approval of your fledglings before biting them," she snarled. "You cannot go through this world feeling first and thinking later. You cannot-" She broke off when Clara spoke and her face lost some of its tight anger.
Yes, she understood the fledgling\'s yearning. She had felt it herself before meeting the girl. Until that point, she had not found anyone worth turning into her companion for eternity, but she had discovered it in Clara. It had been a bonus that she hadn\'t had to bother with the Camarilla to have her inspected before bestowing upon her the kiss of life. She\'d already been created, she just had to tend the flower until it bloomed.
She opened her mouth to make a retort, a very reasonable one at that, but found nothing was forthcoming. "Oh hells," she spat, flinging her hands and mask upward. "I do understand, love, I really do, but can you not see why I do not approve? He is not good for you. He will lead you down the wrong path and I will not see you destroyed because he refuses to think!"
-
Clara studied Rebecca for a moment longer, before heaving a sigh. "I understand that," She began, almost forcefully. "Yet, it is worth an attempt. I believe I am much smarter than before, Rebecca." She commented. "I\'m more aware this time."
She knew she had been, but the problem that was before her -- was the blind nature of her jumping into things. Perhaps Clara was aware of what was going on... But as soon as Torren had bestowed his attentions upon her, she was lost once more.
-
Torren, who was unaccustomed to this degree of interaction and confrontation, was left floundering in the face of Rebecca\'s accusations. All he could manage was a shake of his head and without a comeback of his own - even when there was pause and opportunity for his retort.
Feelings without thought, he knew this was a liability within himself, and Rebecca\'s words pulled him in a direction he\'d pulled himself in before. Was he good for Clara? Could he look after her as she\'d been looked after? He\'d been accused of being fickle, distracted in his past, by the one who had made him and all those previous who\'d known him in mortal life. He was all heart, almost no ability to think through the repurcussions of his actions. He believed what felt right, was right.
He might\'ve ripped Clara from the fabric of her life, but had he not given her the chance to keep on living forever? Without his spontaneity she would\'ve been aged and long buried in the earth. He\'d given her a gift but not let her know how to use it. He\'d endangered her in doing so - but when things felt right, did they not work out for the best? He said this now.
"Everything has come neatly together," he explained to Rebecca, the words of a dreamer. "What was broken will now be fixed."
-
Clara’s words did not reassure her in the least. It was like hearing a woman assuring a concerned loved one that, oh, he hit me, but he won’t do it again. He loves me. Or worse yet, I can change him. That kind of thinking was self-destructive.
“I do not want to be able to say, ‘I told you so.’ I want to avoid that with all my heart,” she said. “Just as I don’t want him to hurt you, and you’re giving him that power.”
She then pointed a finger at Torren and laughed shortly. “Your words are useless. What will you do?” She clenched her eyes shut. “And what happens to the one left behind?” It distressed her greatly to imagine an existence without Clara. To lose her to the babbling idealist would just be salt in a huge, gaping wound.
She pried open her eyes again and took a step back to peer at them both. “Have you not thought of anyone other than yourselves?”
The woman was full of questions. One could only hope they’d be answered to her satisfaction.
-
Clara had visibly winced at Rebecca\'s words, trying to remain straight and defiant. Yet, her words -- covered with such layers of truth, had allowed her to faulter.
"I --" She had begun, finding it hard to form the words she wished. Or rather, finding it hard to form any words at all!
Breathing a sigh, she lifted her arms to cross about her chest loosely, sparing a glance to Torren before returning her green eyes upon Rebecca. "Would you rather keep an eye on us than? Would that ease your troubles?" She asked quietly. Perhaps if the girl had an eye out on the both of them, then neither would have to part, and Rebecca would not have to worry as much.
-
Torren was floundering, thinking of how to settle Rebecca\'s mind when Clara beat him to an offer that he would not have made on his own. His head turned sharply, to look at her, his eyebrows lifting in query.
Had they not come here to be alone together? To get away from prying eyes and judgmental decisions? Had he not brought her here to share his life with him, to start anew? It appeared she wasn\'t as ready as she\'d been willing to demonstrate before Rebecca had pushed her way in.
He would not go against her wishes however, and though it was obvious he did not agree with her words and he would\'ve been happier with Rebecca out of the way, he turned back to face the stern woman. "Whatever she wants is fine with me." It wasn\'t as fine as all that, but he was determined not to go against Clara again - whether in arguement or in abandonment.
He had to prove himself.
-
She wanted to make the demand that Clara return home with her whenever they were finished \'catching up\', but she knew it would not get her far with the fledgling.
"Fine," she said reluctantly. "But," she added when she realized her presence wasn\'t completely welcome, "I will be in the next room." She lowered her accusing finger, only to grip at her skirts in preparation to flee.
"If you even think about leaving with her, Torren, I will rip your heart out." The threat was out before she could consider the wisdom of saying such a thing in front of Clara after her spill of following the Camarilla\'s laws, but what said could not be taken back.
She lifted her head and haughtily stalked out of the room.
-
Clara sighed as she watched Rebecca stalk out, and she found herself sitting slowly back down, almost mechanically. Well, she had succeeded in ridding them of Rebecca... sort of.
The comfort was not there, knowing the girl was merely in the other room, probably intent on listening. She winced at the thought, her eyes falling upon the floor.
Wonderful... Just wonderful.
-
|Pst, guys.. I\'m gonna go for tonight. -yawns- I\'ll talk to you tomorrow! -waves- |
-
He believed the vampiress before she gave them some privacy. With her enhanced hearing she would hear every word they said to each other, perhaps know of every kiss. Still, her presence was not atop them and so he found he could relax a little. He sank to the cushion seat beside Clara once she\'d sat, and gazed at her.
After a moment, with no words said, he leant forward and took a kiss from her lips, gently yet growing with pressure after a moment, a hand on her knee, then pulled away. It wasn\'t really the right time for a kiss, but he\'d thought about it, and wanted to do it, and wanted to know if she\'d respond to him once more.
"She does her best to protect you," he told her, and for that he was glad though chagrined to find that he\'d been cast as the enemy and one Clara needed protecting from.
-
Clara had been suprised by his actions, but her suprise was quickly concealed at the immediate return of his kiss. She found that she could not deny him, not after inwardly going insane from the yearn she had been holding throughout the years.
As he pulled back, she breathed the smallest of sighs, watching him for a moment. A nod followed as she looked down to her lap. "She\'s almost like my mother," She commented softly, knowing Rebecca had done everything in her power to watch over her and protect her.
-
He reached a hand to stroke her hair, tucking any strand that came loose behind her ear. Oh, how he wished to unpin it and let it fall around her shoulders, to run his fingers through it loose, and smell the soap she\'d used to wash it.
"It\'s good that you had her to care for you," he continued. "But I don\'t want her to keep us apart. I want you with me, but I don\'t think she\'ll give you up so easily. She mistrusts me."
And with good reason, for had he not proved already his cowardice?
-
Clara sighed quietly, her eyes slipping closed as he had curled his fingers through her hair, even though it had been kept up. On instinct, she had moved her head to nuzzle his hand in the slightest.
At his words, her eyes opened slowly, studying his own. "I do not blame her though, Torren." She admitted quietly. As the night continued on, her walls were soon begining to diminish, realizing that she had wanted to be with him more than she had thought. He seemed to offer so much more this time around... "She has perfect reason to be so protective.." She spoke, biting her lower lip gently.
-
It took all of Rebecca\'s strength to remain in the room she\'d said she would stay in when she heard the unique sound of lips parting and hushed whispers that only lovers shared. Though Torren and Clara had both assumed she would be able to hear their words clearly, she couldn\'t. Not when they were said in such hushed tones. She briefly considered standing in the doorway and listening there, but that was beneath her.
She was frightened that she was losing Clara in the time she allowed them to spend together, but the woman knew there wasn\'t much she could do about it, not unless she wanted to murder her sweetling\'s new companion.
Her hands went to her face and she laughed shortly. New companion? Dear Christ, she\'d already given up hope, hadn\'t she? Of course, her mind taunted her, he was her sire. They had shared bed and blood. She couldn\'t compete, nor did she wish to.
If Clara ignored her words of warning and stayed with him, then there was nothing short of tying her down and locking her away that would keep her away from the annoying creature. And again, this was beneath her. But quietly snooping around in the room she\'d found herself in wasn\'t. That was just curiosity.
-
The room she was in, was his bedroom - there weren\'t too many rooms in this apartment, and at least Rebecca could be content that they wouldn\'t be jumping into bed while she was here.
An unmade bed with tangled sheets, shutters atop black painted windows to ensure the sun would not permeate the room when it arose. A sitting chair beside a lamp. A desk in another corner, and if Rebecca sought to open both of its drawers, she\'d find journals in both. If she opened them, she would find tales about his relentless search for Clara, his doubts of finding her, his fears of existing alone, and the realisation that searching for her had become all that he had anymore.
Meanwhile, the vampire himself listened to Clara\'s words and nodded, neither pulling away nor making a further move beyond his soft touch upon her hair and his hold on her knee.
"What will you do?" he asked.
-
Clara had seemingly faultered under his question. Her eyes caught his for a moment, yet she had broken away, turning her head slightly.
What was she going to do? It was a hard descision, to say the least. Inwardly, she was screaming to stay with him, almost desperate to be even in his presence. And she feared, if she were to leave, she would be far worse off than she had been before.
Yet, she hardly thought Rebecca would even allow such talk. With her previous display, it was clear the girl was not about to let Clara remain with her sire, no matter how much Clara would beg.
"I... don\'t know." She admitted softly, swallowing the words that were choked within her throat. "Rebecca does not seem to want me anywhere near you..." Clara owed the older girl everything she had come to own, for her assistance in allowing her to live. She had abided by everything she was told, yet now... she wished to hold defiance.
-
[ooc] Just PM\'d Jay with something Rebecca finds on reading his journals XD muaha [/ooc]
-
Ooc|| xD Woot. -continues working on Chemistry homework and nibbling on chips- -hands both chips while waiting- ^^ |
-
She wasn’t interested by anything in the open, though she did take in the sight of an unkempt bed with a wrinkled nose. He was a good-for-nothing pig that couldn’t even make his own bed after rising for the night? And Clara wanted to stay with him? She sniffed. Then again, it might just be that Clara did not understand her sire’s manner. She could only hope that the high living the girl had become accustomed to would have her looking disdainfully upon a messy home as she did. The home reflected the heart, after all. She just needed to find something more than its disorganized state to show her Clara.
Drawers were good, and she knew fate was not working against her as she opened one and pulled from it a tattered notebook that was worn with age and use. She held it to her chest and leaned over to inspect the second. A sound of interest parted her lips briefly when she found another, much in the same condition as the first.
She wasn’t about to sit on the man’s bed, not when she was picturing such repulsive things taking place beneath those rumpled sheets. Instead, she decided on the sitting chair. It was definitely cleaner than the bed and offered her an extra source of lighting as she opened the journal and delved into the inner thoughts (if they could be called thoughts) of her competition.
She quickly read over the very first entry and then skimmed the rest, all but throwing it aside to reach the other journal. The man was insane! Positively insane! She was thankful her breath had been stolen from her on the night she\'d been turned, else it would be hard to catch. She had her leverage. She had him. After finishing with the journals, she gathered them in her arms and all but marched into the room Clara and Torren still sat in. "Ask him about Larissa, love. Ask him."
-
[ooc] nibbles on chip [/ooc]
Torren wanted Clara\'s defiance as much as Clara wished it, but did not want to cause trouble, nor ask such a thing of Clara. He smiled sadly instead, leaving the decision to her - for it was her decision to make.
If she chose to leave with Rebecca, he was sure Clara would permit him to visit, though Rebecca would make such a feat difficult. He opened his mouth to assure Clara that whatever decision she made, they would find a way to be together, when Rebecca interrupted yet again.
This time he was not as smooth to deflect her words as he had been when she\'d turned up to his place. She\'d hit him with something emotional, to utter that name and to demand that Clara request knowledge of the tale.
The journals. She\'d read his journals. He was unable to even speak this accusation, gaping at her with wide eyes and parted lips. His hands fell away from Clara to lie still upon his lap.
-
Clara, upon Rebecca\'s sudden appearence once more raised a brow in question. "Larissa?" She asked slowly, her voice still rather quiet, not bothering to look at Torren as he pulled back from her.
Part of her had wanted to know what this was all about, but part of her didn\'t at all. If it was enough for Rebecca to barge in the room, demanding that she question the name, it was a peice of information that would probably hurt the both of them.
Afterall, Rebecca only wanted them to be separated. And apparently, she had what she needed to do so.
Swallowing lightly, Clara shook her head. "Rebecca, what are you talking about?" Though, her eyes fell back upon Torren, features controted in a weak look of confusion. "Who\'s Larissa?" Though, she had the feeling he did not wish to speak of it, nor have it known.
-
"Yes, Larissa." Her eyebrows were lofty as she waited for Torren to spill his history with the woman, but when he said nothing, simply gawked at her, she explained it herself. "One of the many women he tried to replace you with. He treated her just as he did you, even named her \'Lara, to make it more appealing to his lips."
She smiled then and flipped open the first journal, reading through it while skimming her finger over the text to mark her place as she went. "Stalked, stalked some more..." She turned the page. "Makes a friend of the woman, beds her, names her \'Lara. Mistakenly calls her Clara in bed." She laughed. "Oh, that is wonderful! You did? How did she react? Did she throw you from the bed and stalk out?"
Rebecca sobered quickly and shut the jornal, her finger still caught inside. "When did you bite her? Was it after you stalked and convinced her it was a mistake, that you truly loved only her? Or was it just after she had cleared you from her sheets? Were you angry enough to bite her then?"
-
Hearing no response at all from Torren made her insides twist and turn, knowing that he did not wish to tell her anything of the sort. And she was highly apprehensive to hear it from Rebecca\'s lips, knowing it would probably turn out colder than it should have.
\'Makes a friend of the woman, beds her, names her \'Lara. Mistakenly calls her Clara in bed.\' It had to be the only statement that had stood out to her. Clara had shut her eyes to possibly block out the onslaught of words and history that she had not wished to know. Her small hands had curled into tight fists upon her lap as she realized that there was no escaping Rebecca\'s voice, or the words she had spoken from his journal.
She could not even bring herself to look at Torren.
"...That is enough, Rebecca." Clara had forced out weakly, not bothering to look at either of them. She hardly knew what to say, or even do in response to his past actions. He had slept with other women who had even the slightest of resemblence to her, only to dispose of them as well.
Her eyes were shut far too tight as her fists moved to grip the top layer of her skirts. She could not believe it. She would not believe it.
-
Torren shook his head through it, finding himself glancing between Rebecca and Clara as one spoke words that he\'d never believed the other would hear. Words that he\'d thought would remain hidden in the books that contained the most secret pourings of his heart. He\'d confessed all in his journals, without excuses and justifications, and Rebecca had taken them and shared the name of a woman that he\'d long buried.
He turned to plea with Clara, to make her understand that it wasn\'t as it sounded, but nothing came out. It was exactly as it sounded, he\'d done exactly that. It shocked even his own ears, and the memory of Larissa\'s face came to mind - they were similar enough that he could remember her vividly, especially with Clara right beside him.
"That was... a long time ago..."
How preposterous that sounded, to tell her that time alone made his actions less important. It might\'ve happened over half a century ago to him, but it was fresh to her.
He shook his head some more. "Please Clara, I was... confused."
Another pitiful reason. He\'d not been in his right mind, that was for sure, but was it enough to excuse what he\'d done?
"She... she..." stumbling over excuses, he found a truthful one that was worthy of uttering, if not cruel in itself. "She wasn\'t good enough."
He reached for Clara\'s hand.
-
Rebecca’s fury only grew with Clara’s demand that she stop reading from the journal. “Is it really enough? Are you truly going to see now? Are you?”
She pointed her finger, journal and all, at Torren. “She wasn’t good enough? So you killed her? There is no excuse for you taking another’s life because she didn’t satisfy you or because you were confused.”
The woman dropped her hand, suddenly deflated by a thought that had just occurred to her. “Will you do the same to my Clara when she ceases to amuse or amaze you?”
-
As she listened to Torren struggle with his words, she felt as if she should move. Get up and seperate herself from him to at least calm herself. But, her body would not comply to her inward hopes, as she remained seated next to him.
Though, she had remained tense as she listened to him and merely shook her head. A long time ago... What did it matter? What was done, was done. It did not matter how long ago the incident had taken place.
Slowly, and hesitantly, she had opened her eyes, her gaze falling upon him as her grip held strong upon her skirts, fearing her nails would create new holes in the layers. "She wasn\'t good enough?" She repeated, as if it were the most rediculous thing she had heard.
Her hands had unfisted, and she stood up, her form bristling. "Gods Torren, \'she wasn\'t good enough\'? You have been going around bedding women who have even the faintest of resemblence to me. To replace me. And all you have to say for yourself, is that she, among all of the others, \'wasn\'t good enough\'." She moved away slightly, keeping her distance from the both of them as she crossed her arms loosely upon her chest, her back facing Torren.
Why had she felt the sudden surge of jealousy? The sudden pain that had only been ressurected from within her? She had nothing to be jealous about. It wasn\'t as if he was hers to get posessive over, no matter how long ago it had been. Even though, he was her sire. Even though, she had loved him.
"You weren\'t even going to tell me, were you?" She asked slowly. "What else are you hiding, Torren?" It was a weak question. One that she wasn\'t quite sure if she wanted the answer to.
-
As Rebecca\'s accusation resonated and Clara pulled away, the truth haunting him now as it had haunted him in the past, he watched his future crumble as surely as he watched Clara turn her back.
"I\'ll never hurt you," he whispered, in answer to Rebecca\'s question and Clara\'s pain. It was a true promise, but what would they believe after first he\'d left her and now the discovery of this awful event.
Two moments in his life of which he was ashamed was what they knew of him. Mistakes made of terrible consequence and still he paid for his actions, it would never leave him, he saw this. He could only plea for forgiveness. Shooting Rebecca a look of pure misery he could shake his head at her - he had no explanation for himself. He then looked at Clara\'s back.
"Please," he begged, "I thought I\'d found you then, and it was one woman. One." The only one who he\'d taken that far, the others were merely brief distractions from the cause, enough to turn his head and make him think more strongly of Clara. How he\'d ached for her. "I made a mistake with Larissa. I thought I could content myself with a shadow of you. I was wrong. A shadow isn\'t good enough."
-
All of her words had risen at once, causing the largest of lumps to form in her throat and steal her voice temporarily. Her emotions had welled within her, and she lifted her gaze to the ceiling at his words. She eyes shut as she took in an uneven breath, wondering just what she could do; Wondering what she could believe.
It had hurt far too much, the mirror of pain from so many centuries ago. She feared that she could no longer take such similar pain, and was not fully sure that she wanted to take the risk to attempt at a happy life... with the overshadow of what once was.
Swallowing slightly, she had sucked on her dry bottom lip gently, trying to pull her thoughts together. Rebecca surely would not be pleased if she made any decision against her own opinion, she knew... But the tone in his voice had hit her in such a way that... that she wanted to forgive him, no matter how absured his mistakes had been.
"How could I know that, Torren? That you would never hurt me?" She asked softly, still not able to bring herself to look at him again. She did not want him to see how much she had hurt, even though it had practically radiated from her form. "Tell me, what else do I need to know that is concealed within those journals?" She needed to know it all in order to gain a level of content. Perhaps then, she could make a decision, if any.
-
Rebecca remained silent as Torren fruitlessly attempted to defend his actions. She knew, as Clara turned her back on the man, that nothing she could say right now could make things any worse than they already were.
Only as the fledgling reached her conclusion about the journals did she speak. "Here," she said, and held the damning things out for the girl to take - should she choose to.
She did not take into consideration Torren jumping out to grab them, but if he did, he would quickly find that her skirts would not prevent her from tussling with him.
-
She had waited for Torren\'s response, but at Rebecca\'s offer, Clara merely shook her head lightly. She would not take the books, merely out of respect to Torren, himself. She would not read his deepest secrets or emotions he held, as if it were a mere published book.
No, she wanted to know everything from his own lips -- not from wrongly prying it from written words.
Ooc|| Brb a few minutes. Must take a shower. -sigh- |
-
As the journals were offered, he saw what was best. If he told her all he could remember, he might miss something, and be accused of lying to her or keeping something from her. Rebecca had started on one of the last few books he\'d written within, and he intended to show Clara the series from the beginning, the ones he\'d penned after leaving her.
"Take them, all of them," he said, casting his eyes downward, his shoulders sagging. "Read them all and know my thoughts, for I put my soul into those journals and they speak the truth as I saw it. Read them and know me intimately, and decide for yourself what worth I am."
Worthless, likely, certainly not worth her, but he gave her permission, for it was only fair to remove all masks at this stage - and there was a hope that she would accept him, and it would be true acceptance, for she would be taking him, warts and all. No surprises.
-
Clara had visibly winced lightly as Torren had spoken, and her faded gaze fell upon him for the quickest of moments. She looked towards Rebecca, and with much hesitancy reached out to take the journals.
She was afraid of what she might find in those depths of pages, but she took them reguardless, because Torren had told her to.
Always doing what she\'s told...
At first, she held the books against her chest, looking down at the worn bindings and curled pages. She was afraid... She did not know what she would encounter upon each page, and the revealed event had pained her enough. Swallowing lightly, she had moved to take a seat back upon the couch, keeping a slight distance between herself and Torren.
Clara found it hard to even focus, with Rebecca still fuming in silent need to seperate the two of them, and Torren\'s own pain radiating from him. But, she had managed to open the cover of the first book, tracing her fingertips lightly over the words before she soon was consumed by his own thoughts and worries written down.
Ooc|| -is just going to FFWd teh reading- xP |
It seemed like forever and a day that she had finished the journals, somewhat glad she had been a fast reader and his handwriting was legible, despite moments of wavering letters.
She hardly knew what to say or do, as she had closed the second book, chewing on her lower lip. Her gaze first fell upon Rebecca, before dropping back to the books in her lap.
All of the stories, the tales and desperation of wanting to find her... It seemed things had been a bit more clear about the former incident, finding reason as to why he did it. Though, it had still pained her to come across such knowledge.
Still, she sat in silence, unable to speak, trying to form the correct words that would leave everyone content.
-
Torren had waited patiently throughout her reading, choosing to sit upon another chair and letting Rebecca do as she wished, whether that be sitting as well or roaming further. She had already found what he considered most private, things that Torren would\'ve divulged to Clara over time.
Yes, he had done horrible things that he\'d recorded in his diary. Things that someone in their right mind wouldn\'t even have begun. The woman he knew as Larissa had been some kind of comfort-blanket, he could pretend he\'d found Clara. It was insane, he knew it now, but he\'d been so desperate to have someone, that his fledgling\'s doppleganger was good enough to satisfy him for two years. It was a drop in the ocean of time to him, but two years could be conceived as a long time. He\'d wanted to change her human form to vampire, to make her more like Clara, but halfway through, when she was dying and needing him to save her, he\'d known with sudden clarity how wrong this would be for his own selfish purposes, and Lara would not exist well as one of his kind. He\'d refused to see it, so he had cried for her as she died and then removed himself from normal living for some time afterward. A skip in his diary of two months indicated how long he\'d been out of it.
There were other women he\'d stalked, but not got near, those that he watched until they did something he didn\'t expect Clara would do, and it broke the spell. He left them alone mostly, but upon reading his journals, Clara would find he would divulge himself of one night with them, for company - and the lament he would feel afterwards, feeling as though he had cheated on someone he thought he would never find.
He watched her now, knowing she knew of all his exploits, that she knew his relentless search which was his obsession. He wondered if she would throw the journals at him and call him a cheat, or if she could understand his loneliness. He tried to imagine her with another man in the time that they\'d been apart, and he could do it, though it hurt his heart even to think of such a thing. He knew she was hurt knowing that he\'d shared intimacies with women that looked like her, wanting to be close to her and going about it the wrong way.
He was very still, waiting for her response.
-
It would have been a lie to say that Clara did not feel cheated, or thrown aside in any other way. With each syllable written, each new name that was scribbled upon a page, she had felt her stomach sink further with a realization of how many he had been with.
Perhaps it would not have been with such impact if he merely watched them, possibly conversed with them... Yet he had used each of them and disreguarded them.
Any girl in her right mind would have have tossed the books at him in a heated manner, cursing him to hell and back for even thinking that she would come back to him after all of that. After all of those encounters.
The logical side of Clara certainly did not protest to such a scene, and her grip had tightened upon the bindings ever so slightly at the mere thought of it.
Yet, her recollections, the part of her that had longed for him throughout the years, could not deny him.
Afterall, each strike against his name had been followed by paragraphs of emotion and longing for her. They were each possible replacements for her. All he had seemed to want... was to be with her once more.
She was torn completely, trapped in her own protest, combined with both vampires around her. She wished dearly to please both of them, but she knew that was hardly the case. If she gave into Rebecca, allowing her teacher to bring her back to the shelter of her home, she would be deserting Torren for good (as Rebecca would see to it). If she went with Torren, she would feel whole once more, but much to the displeasure of Rebecca, and she hardly thought the older girl would leave them be.
But as he sat there, Clara found it harder and harder to make her decision. She longed desperately to be with him, and was nearly about willing to toss all previous findings aside.
He was lonely, as she was. He had just went about satisfying that longing in the worst ways. Though, she could not count her solitude as being the best choice either. And true, perhaps things would not be the same, knowing he had been with so many, knowing that in a way -- he had abandoned her more than his initial disappearence.
And Clara could not expect him to have stayed on his own, not after so long.
But, they had come this far. If they had found each other again, could they possibly overcome such new findings?
Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as her words fell silently upon her tongue. "I... I do not know what to say," She admitted softly, her gaze dropping to her lap. She looked lost, almost empty for that smallest of moments.
-
Rebecca had stood quietly while they made their exchanges. Though mostly silent, she could feel the tension being passed back and forth between them.
When Clara finally said something she could react to, she half-turned to face the girl and smiled. "How about this? \'Torren, you\'re lovely to look at, but I\'m afraid I cannot stand being around you, considering your past and mental instability. I\'m going home\'. That would fit wonderfully in this lull we\'re experiencing."
Her smile wobbled and fell. Clara\'s indecision be damned, she knew what should be done and said. "If not those words exactly, a variation would be welcoming."
-
Clara hadn\'t a clue as to why she had turned so abruptly to glare at Rebecca. It was a mere instinct, she supposed, whenever it came to Torren. In her past she had always seemed to defend him in some nonchalant way, even if she had seemed angry, herself.
"I will say nothing of the sort, Rebecca." She spoke forcefully, breathing a heavy sigh in return as her gaze dropped back to her hands and the books in her lap.
"Besides," Clara began. "You can not say that my past has been the most stable and full of sanity..." Unless Rebecca would consider and endless droning search for a sire who had left her countless centuries ago, sane...
-
Torren looked from one to the other, but mostly his gaze fixed on Clara as his spirits soared at her words. She did not wish to make a hasty decision and leave him. He wanted to be a gentleman, he wanted to say:
Clara, I can see that I haven\'t been fair. If you would like the time to think, and to return to your home with Rebecca, I will wait here, and visit whenever you wish, or you could find me whenever you like.
It would be the right thing to say, the right thing to do. He couldn\'t find it in himself to say it, or do it. He wished for her to be with him, and to not leave his sight. Now that he\'d found her, it felt impossible to let her go. He looked at Rebecca now, expecting her to protest further, his expression was one of guilt but also one of resentment. He hated her for intruding on them like this. Even though she\'d taken care of his Clara and ensured her safety, he despised her for getting in his way. No doubt that emotion would find its way into his eyes. He was not very good at hiding.
-
"In comparison to what it could have been," she said in steady tones. "your life has been wonderful." She couldn\'t ignore the look Torren shot her, but it did not bother her. Instead, the woman found she was happy enough bathing in the seething hatred she found in the man\'s eyes. He didn\'t like her? Good. She wanted to be the one to remove his head from his body and would delight in the pile of ash he became.
"Though we have eternity, Clara, morning will not wait for you to piddle around in your thoughts. Can this not wait until tomorrow night?"
She regretted what she\'d said as soon as it had left her lips. Rebecca was forcing the fledgling to make a decision, and after the way she\'d reacted to her previous statement, she knew it likely she would return home without the girl by her side.
-
Though, having Rebecca to help her through most of her younger stages in her new experience, she could possibly clarify her life as wonderful. Yet, once drifting to those moments of prolonged lonliness and wandering for years, she could not quite give it the same title.
Hearing Rebecca once more, her stomach had seemed to drop once more, knowing her teacher was giving her a temporary ultimatum.
"No, Rebecca. This will not wait until tomorrow night." She had spoken just as firmly once more, catching the looks both vampires were giving each other. Both of them were acting like children, fighting for one of the last peices of candy or dessert.
Perhaps this would be easier without Rebecca seeming to breath down her shoulder and bark at any comment that she did not find to her satisfaction. "I wish to discuss this further with Torren, Rebecca." Clara spoke a bit softer, knowing a tone of hostility would make her decision even further displeasing to her teacher.
But, she would not allow journal entries and a sudden disturbance to completely sway her initial decision.
-
Triumph.
His gaze turned to Clara before he got up from the armchair he\'d seated himself out - to give her room while reading his journals - and crossed the floor towards her, wanting to pull her into an embrace, or to drop down onto the sofa beside her just to be close (though he intended at least on wrapping his arms around her in gratitude).
He had to pass near Rebecca however, and as he did so, he shot her a smug look that did not sit well on his face.
-
She had been floundering for something to say to Clara, some rhyme or reason to offer the child so she didn\'t make the mistake that would follow her through previously mentioned eternity, but Torren gave her another option as he glided past her.
All her rage and frustration poured from her in the shove she gave Torren\'s side. Her eyes were dilated and her lips twisted as she used her heels to pry off one dainty shoe, then the other.
"Do not celebrate yet," she growled, further preparing herself for the vampire\'s retaliation by pushing her long sleeves back. There wasn\'t anything she could do about the mass of skirts swirling around her ankles, but she would manage well enough in providing the man an example of why it was not wise to look crassly at any female - much less an already annoyed vampiress.
-
At first, Clara had chosen to ignore the look she had seen Torren give Rebecca, but with her teacher\'s reactions, she found that she could not. With a sudden push and threat, Clara was up on her feet as fast as she could even think, the books placed next to her on the sofa she had been sitting upon.
"Damnit! Will you two cease in such childish behavior?!" Her yell was loud enough, contrast to her usually soft tones, even when she was angry. Her fisted hands rested at her hips as she glared at the both of them before choosing to speak once more. "Because I can simply gather my things and disappear from the both of you!" It had seemed like an impossible threat, and though it would drive her to madness, she feared that if they kept up such nonsense, she would follow through with it.
-
Torren had fallen against a short end table, knocking it over but saving the lamp atop it. Keeping it in his hand, he\'d only had time to glare at Rebecca and rise to his feet before Clara intervened. The threat she made might not have reached fruition, but he wasn\'t ready to take the risk. Annulled, he remained standing with the lamp, holding it protectively to his chest. Not even half a minute ago he would\'ve thrown it with great force Rebecca\'s way. Now his reaction would be safe from their eyes.
-
"Childish?" The word reached her from under the layer of red anger she felt (and even relished in), and she repeated it numbly. Then she understood it and turned her hateful gaze upon Clara. "What is childish? Me reacting to the looks he\'s given me or you refusing to see because you\'re too damned focused on what could be, instead of what has happened and what is?" As she saw it, Clara did not have the right to toss about accusations like that when she herself could easily be labeled the same.
"I don\'t think you would, anyway," she said while pulling her sleeves back into place. "Even if you did abandon us both, you would quickly find someone to act as our replacement." She didn\'t feel she needed to reference the girl doing the same thing with her when her original sire had abandoned her.
-
Clara\'s form had bristled at Rebecca\'s words, and she had held her ground in defiance. Perhaps she was being childish with her unspoken decision...
But, damnit! Rebecca hadn\'t a clue as to what she was feeling! She was left with a decision between staying with her sire, whom she had previously loved and went through centuries of desperation in a search to replenish what once was lost. And then, she had the choice to stay with the woman who had taken her in and housed her, teaching her everything she needed.
She knew she owed the older woman the world, but she was now becoming desperate. She wanted to run from the accusations and the decision that needed to be made, no matter how much both of them hated each other.
And hearing Rebecca\'s finals words, she felt as if she had had enough. Taking it as a mere challenge, she had pushed by both of them, heading towards the door. "Fine then, Rebecca. Damn the morning, I\'m going off on my own." She warned. "And do not assume I will be at the manor by morning," Clara spoke simply, pulling the door open in front of her.
Only the loud slamming of the door and her disappearing figure seemed to bring absolution towards her statement.
She had wavered by the door, but proceeded to walk down the stairs. She would find somewhere to go... All she wanted to do was show them that she was annoyed, exhausted... She knew what she wanted, but Rebecca would see her dead before she allowed such.
-
[ooc] Oops! Thought it was Jay\'s turn, now I see that it\'s mine ^^; [/ooc]
Torren watched the confrontation between the two women, feeling both bitter and pleased that their relationship was disintegrating. All the better to have Clara run into his arms.
She didn\'t, though, but went out the door instead. Shocked by this reaction (why had she not come to him? did she not want to be with him? wasn\'t that what this confrontation was about? why had she deserted him now after talk of forgiveness and understanding? had the journals bothered her deeper than she\'d thought? deeper than he\'d realised?) he called out her name: "Clara." It had no real strength to it, for he was still stunned, and found himself talking to a closed door.
He simply had to go after her. Dropping the lamp, he moved around the lounge (and around Rebecca, not trusting her not to tackle him) and towards the closed door. His intention was to fling it open and race down the stairs, but would Rebecca do the same thing or instead stop him from trying? He gave her a wary glance.
-
Rebecca watched the scene unfold with the air of one that had witnessed it before. And indeed she had. Enough that she wasn\'t worried about the girl doing anything incredibly stupid as she sorted both herself and her thoughts out. She also knew that following her would not allow Clara the peace she\'d sought after. Torren, the one absent from her life for so long, did not.
Before she registered her own movement, she found herself firmly planted in front of the door. "No," she stated simply. The vampiress crossed her arms over her chest and stared icily at Torren, trying intimidation tactics even though she was much shorter than the other.
"We must leave her be for now. Let her return to us on her own terms, hmn?" Perhaps knowing that she would not be chasing after the fledgling would placate Torren. If it didn\'t, she would be happy enough continuing the fight Clara had stopped only minutes earlier.
=======================================================
Clara might have succeeded in running away from the two causing her such emotional turmoil, but she would find upon reaching the street that another was waiting for her.
The male was staggeringly beautiful in all ways a man could be. Wavy chestnut brown hair with auburn highlights fell into a chiseled face that would have (and had) artists scrambling to beg him to act as their model. The sums of money offered to him was not frowned upon, but long hours of sitting in one place while smiling just so, was.
His green eyes were the shade of new spring leaves and they burned brightly with intelligence and cunning. His body was not lacking either - he was muscled enough that one could tell with a single glance he hadn\'t remained idle in life. If he held his arms up, one would be able to see them though his thin cream-colored shirt. He did not have to move any for one to notice his strong calves under the tight leggings most other men simply wore. Instead, Garrick made it seem as if the clothes should be honored by being allowed to touch him.
It was this beauty - the combination of his face and his body that sent many into a frenzy, but the added charm of his wit and quick tongue had attracted someone of a different sort. Thus he had been immortalized as all things should that are too good to be left to rot away under the earth\'s surface.
He walked gracefully and with the manner of one very sure of his worth and the gift he gave others by allowing them to be seen with him. His deliberately slow stroll through the streets only came to a halt when quite suddenly, someone not looking where they should have been, plowed into him.
He might have staggered backward if not for his quick reaction of grabbing the shoulders of whoever it was in such a hurry. "My!" He exclaimed. "You really should watch your feet. Perhaps your surroundings." When he realized the shoulders he gripped were slim and the gap between them small, he glanced down at the person. A girl... no, a woman, then - not a young boy as he had first assumed.
A tiny, calculative smile curved his mouth.
-
Torren was at odds, wanting to fight his way past Rebecca to chase after his beloved (and fight it would be, he could see by her eyes). The words she said to him made sense however, and she herself had not disappeared after Clara either.
Clara knew where to find him, and where to find Rebecca. It would be her decision where she went from here. He hoped she would only need a single night to make up her mind, and that she would be safe from the daylight, on her own.
His shoulders slumped before he fell upon the couch with a dramatic sigh. Clara had been and gone, and now he had to wait for her to return to him. At least he knew she could find him. He would wait here. Forever, if need be.
"Fine," he breathed, and stared at the woman who still had not moved from his door.
-
It had seemed forever and a day that Clara had finally found the will to push herself away from the initial entrance of the room, before pushing her way down the stairs. She was in such a state of disarray, a long forgotten stress building within her, only to be outwardly released in an expression of annoyance and anger. It seemed her mind and body were in completely different worlds, one fleeing as far as her body would take her, the other -- trapped in a turmoil of raging thoughts of logic and emotion.
She had suprised herself that she had not stumbled or even tripped down the stairs as she moved with such haste, and hardly any elegance at all. Nearly every mortal was asleep, and if anyone even took care as to her state, then damn them. She would only have gained a fight or two to release what was now thriving within her.
How could they fight over her like she was some mere object? And though she had been quick to judge, and inform them of such childish acts, she had hardly been ready for Rebecca to turn against her as well. And in such shock, she found only logic within running free from the both of them (despite the ache to return to her sire), at least temporarily escaping the path of their glares.
Clara had continued to move quickly, pushing through the front door before she hardly felt the night\'s breeze come upon her. Her arms wrapped quickly around her middle, in an attempt to shelter herself from any oncoming emotions, even though they had freely spilt forth in her moment of action. No; She simply needed time, that was all... And with the morning only hours away, she knew her time would be dreadfully short.
Briskly walking down the front steps, her heels clicked upon the ground beneath her firmly, only adding to the amount of pressure her own form was withstanding. She was frustrated, enraged even, and any passer-by would be quick to notice it.
However, she was pulled quickly from her inward rants and thoughts of how to win both of them back as her lithe form collided with someone larger than her. At first, she had let out the smallest of squeaks, scolding herself for being caught as such (for surely Rebecca would have frowned upon her lack of awareness).
"I-I\'m sorry," Clara had finally spoken, her words seemingly forced and dripping with the anger she had previously felt. And for that instant, she felt the urge to lurch from his grasp and simply run once more. Her eyes had slowly lifted upon him, to at least show some knowledge of his existance, though she had already apologized, though her rage was held clearly in her eyes.
-
"Good." Rebecca\'s smile wasn\'t something to be envied, as tight and quick as it was to disappear from her face. It was filled with grim satisfaction.
She glanced at her shoes still on the floor, but disregarded them to sit in the armchair near Torren. She\'d been careful with her feet, seeing as how the lamp the vampire had tossed was now in several hundred different pieces, just waiting to dig into her skin. "Are you in the theater?" She asked dryly. "Or do you have no concern for the furniture you throw yourself at?"
===
After taking in her appearance, noting her to be of some bearing, he finally returned his gaze to her face. What he saw surprised him. Normally, when one said sorry, they combined that with an apologetic expression. When he saw anger blazing up and wrapping around him like a small inferno, he wanted to laugh then, but was careful to keep his face still. She would be a trial, that was for sure.
He relaxed his hold on his shoulders, though his hands remained in contact with her. "No, no. Don\'t be sorry. It seems you already have enough to deal with." He sighed softly. "It is a sad night when someone would think to offend someone such as you." Garrick looked offended then, his eyebrows drawn together and lips pursed. "Tell me, should I retrieve my dagger and come to the sweet lady\'s defense?"
-
Torren cast a wary gaze on Rebecca as she picked her way over to him, avoiding porcelain with sharped glazed edges. When she sat and asked her biting question, he regarded her with due care.
"It\'s my furniture. Better to throw myself at it than to have you do the honours for me," he replied glibly, only half seriously.
-
Her patience seemed to be wearing thin as she was still held onto. And yet, the feeling of just wanting to flee continued to linger within her. Her air of annoyance persisted in making itself known, even though she knew the man had not done anything to wrong her (other than to simply be in her way), though, she could not help but grow frustrated.
Afterall, her initial attempts were to flee the apartment and to not look back. She needed a release that she feared she would not be able to gain before the sun had come up. She needed to diminish her anger and desperation before she could make a decision, let alone go back to either of them.
Listening to his words, Clara had outwardly sighed. "I hardly need any help, sir." She began forcefully. "I can manage on my own." And with that, she had made the attempt to at least distance herself from him. It seemed she was taking out her frustrations from earlier on a stranger... Though, it was better than a familiar face.
"I have simply had a ... busy night, and I wish to at least find some solitude before the sun rises."
-
She snorted inelegantly. “We can always try the other method, just to make sure you have made the right decision.” Rebecca waved her hand through the air. “Later, though. Later. For now we must pretend to be civilized adults and discuss the positions we would like to fill in my… our Clara’s life.”
With that amendment she had grudgingly admitted he had a right to involve himself with the fledgling. As she saw it, if they didn’t reach a compromise, they would lose the girl completely. She was selfish enough that she could put her pride aside and deal with him as an equal – for now.
===
Garrick’s perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted a notch. The woman was clearly oblivious to how flattered she should be that he was attempting to make conversation with her. No one was impervious to his charm or looks, not even the creature more focused on her anger than him. He was now determined to drag her into the light so she could see him as everyone else did.
“Solitude is overrated,” he scoffed. “Though,” he mused, “I had planned the same. But now you are here. Fate has never been so kind to me.” As she had stepped away from him, he had allowed his hands to fall to his sides, but they lifted again as he gestured to his right. “My original destination would suit our purposes, I believe. We could make it a joint venture.”
He tilted his head to the side - all the better to allow a few strands of his hair to slip forward and frame his face. “There is a park two blocks away. Would you accompany me? Please? I do not want to go alone.” He then widened his eyes so it might appear that if the answer was ‘no’, he would fall to his knees and clutch at the woman’s skirts before sobbing hopelessly into them.
And he would, if it came down to that.
-
Though her intentions of seclusion were quite obvious, it seemed the male before her only matched in her persistancy. She could find no excuses, and she knew he would be able to come back with his own retort to get her to succumb to his wishes. But she had to admit, if only to herself, that the invitation was quite tempting. Afterall, it was not as if Garrick was displeasing in anyway. Though, she would find it very difficult to focus on what she fled from, in the company of such a man.
"It seems you will not let me pass, either way." Clara commented with a heavy sigh. Her bright green eyes had drifted towards the apartments which she had just come from, a look of almost longing reaching her eyes for the quickest of seconds before it was gone once more. Tilting her head back to Garrick, her arms which had been fastened around her middle had tightened somewhat.
"I suppose I can chance it; If only for a little while." It would be refreshing to be in the company of one who was not yelling or pulling at her for answers and responses.
And even if she had agreed, her outward expressions still seemed hesitant and defiant.
-
Torren stared at Rebecca for a moment, to see if she was perhaps having him on. "You\'re acknowledging I have a position in Clara\'s life?" he asked with more than a degree of skepticism.
-
Rebecca simmered in her intense dislike of the man for a minute before replying to him. "Me oh my, it does appear that I did." She lifted her skirts as she stood, tucked her foot underneath her, and then released them when she sat back down with a whoosh of fabric.
"We have no other choice than to work with each other, because as Clara just displayed, she did not like the options I gave her." The woman sighed deeply. "She will not pick one over the other, so we must work as one."
She smiled. "I can still despise, even hate you, and you, I, but we really do need to figure something out that would appease the girl." The following silence said clearly enough that she had no clue what they should do and she looked to the dreamer for any suggestion he might have.
===
"Oh, do not sound so disappointed that I won\'t leave you alone." He smiled widely and held his arm out for her to take. "You may thank me later for distracting you from whatever problems you left behind." He had followed her gaze to the apartments behind them and had deduced correctly that whatever had angered the other vampire was in there.
"Tell me, how long have you been one with the night, hmn?" The man, but a fledgling himself, had taken some time to figure out the woman was as he was. It had been the smell of her, the metallic scent of blood that came from her breath. That was something he had yet to find a way to mask. Even scraping his tongue hadn\'t solved the problem. He was now experimenting with chewing on sprigs of spearmint before and after he fed. He could still smell it when he breathed into his cupped hand, but the mortals could not, so he was somewhat appeased.
"I am only twenty-five," he admitted. "Two of those years have been spent as ... well, whatever you wish to call us in public where we risk being overheard."
-
Torren was thoughtful, watching her pick her way to the sofa upon which he sat while frou-froued in many layers of expensive material fit for a party. It was obvious the dressmaker had been the same for both hers and Clara\'s dress, though there was obviously a clear difference in personalities. It seemed Rebecca enjoyed keeping up appearances, and had gone to quite some effort to look her best, whereas Clara had chosen something that suited her rather than trying to please others (in his opinion).
"I am sure the mansion in which you live is impeccable," he began, thinking aloud. "I\'m not so fond of large houses unless there are lots of people residing in them." He gave her a measured stare. "I suppose you would have room for guests."
-
Clara was rather hesitant to respond to his outheld arm, but with a quick scan of her surroundings, she found that she had no other option. Though, she could simply push past him (in hopes of not being pursued) somehow she thought Garrick would be rather relentless in his request.
Her green eyes fell to his arm for a moment before flicking back upon the apartment building she had just left. Surely they would not miss her, for neither of them had made chase. And they were both connected to her in a way, they\'d be able to find her.
Heaving a submitting sigh, she wound her thin arm with his almost reluctantly. Things would be fine... This was an oppertunity for her to calm down, of course! Perhaps the fates did not hate her too much.
"Far too long," She sighed. "I\'m afraid I do not take the time to keep count." Clara admitted, her green eyes falling upon Garrick for a moment, almost pensive in wondering about his plans.
-
Her eyes widened until she feared her eyeballs would fall out and roll across the floor across all the glass littered there. That wasn\'t the suggestion she had been looking for. They had been looking for a happy medium, though, and for him to stay in her home where she could keep a lookout for Clara just might be it. "You assumed correctly," she said.
"We have eight... ten bedrooms that you could choose from." She occupied herself with smoothing the front of her skirts down, also successfully preventing her from having to look at him when she asked, "What would you be? A permanent resident or a mere guest?"
===
Garrick smiled at her arm wrapped delicately around his own and then at her. "Call me an idealist, but I believe that keeping track of how long I\'ve been what I am will save me from losing myself." He started walking then, his hand atop hers in a most gentlemanly manner. "I will likely regret that decision after a hundred years, if I last that long," he said, laughing.
The walk to the park was not a long one, and before Garrick had time to harass her with more questions, they were at the gate. "This park isn\'t one of the nicest," he said. "But it is a park, and the greenery breaks the monotony of apartment life." He smiled at her as their feet met the single path that wound through the well-kept little area. "Don\'t you think so?"
-
Torren was wary of her reaction, knowing that her words were very carefully chosen and her actions just as deliberate. Rebecca seemed to be going along with his suggestion however, and to have Clara close was really the most he could ask for.
"Mere guest?" he queried, a tiny smile flitting about his lips though he did not feel like smiling. "I would prefer to begin as a guest before announcing myself as a permanent resident. I would not dare impose on your home."
As you have done with mine, he thought but was wise enough not to add.
-
Clara breathed a heavy sigh, almost reluctant to go on a stroll with a man she had ran into. However, she had felt rather guilty for her actions, and felt that the only way to complete forgiveness was to honor his request. And, in a completely out of character moment, she had agreed, sending one last wary glance to the apartment building she had left.
"Yes, but perhaps, on occasion, it is wise to lose yourself. Afterall, it is almost a relief to escape the confines of a life you wish to not lead." Clara explained softly, a double meaning hidden beneath quiet words, though it was none too apparent unless one would know the girl.
She continued to walk slowly with Garrick, her eyes grazing the small park as they entered. If she had not been initially uncomfortable with the small town then this would surely add to the emotion. She chewed on her bottom lip lightly, listening to his words which had added only minor relief. She shouldn\'t have left the apartments... She would rather have stayed in between the underlying insults, and flying inatimate objects, if only to bask in the comfort of both of the presences within the room.
Listening to his words, Clara nodded in the slightest. "I suppose; It is quite a relief to see foliage, rather than the close buildings and streets." Though, the girl was rather used to the open conditions. Silently, her mind was reeling, making her second-guess her previous options. Yes, she should have just ignored his request, guilty or not. She simply wanted to be alone, to rid herself of her own annoyances like she always had before.
To have that habit removed and distracted for the time being was positively absurd.
-
She tossed her head like an agitated horse and even snorted, completing the effect. "Please. You would be imposing on me whether you are a guest or resident. I simply wanted to know which so I could warn the servants and have them prepare for your stay accordingly."
She lifted her small shoulders in an even smaller shrug. "I do not care what you decide to do, since it seems there is no other way for us to handle this situation."
Rebecca stared off into the space above Torren\'s head as she gathered her thoughts, and when she spoke again, it was in a businesslike tone. "The servants are off limits as well as any other mortal that is on my list to be paid monthly. There will be no mention of what you are or your habits in their presence, for they still imagine both Clara and myself to be proper ladies, albeit ladies with disorder of the skin that prevents us from going outside during the day and sleeping schedules to suit."
Her eyes fell to his face again and her lips pursed slightly. "I saw a bed, but do you have a coffin you insist on dragging around?"
===
He was becoming increasingly frustrated with Clara. No matter how bad of a night she\'d had, he was showering her with attention and good conversation (without the undertones of wanting to bed her), she should be shining by now, not glowering still.
Garrick did not know of any man or woman, that when approached by someone of the appropriate sex, was capable of turning their nose up at them. Especially if they were visually appealing. Unless they were asexual. A frown slid across his face, though it did not appear any less gorgeous for the gesture that might mar any other.
Was she asexual? A nun? If she was, he would have to explain to her the one-sided relationship she had with god, though it might be safe in comparison to being with a physical man, was not nearly as satisfying.
He was distracted, however, by a blooming locust tree.
Garrick tugged gently on her hand as he led her toward it and the bench beneath the heavy white flowers. "A locust tree," he pointed out, changing the subject before he could reply to her quaint remarks about escape and leading a life that wasn\'t worth living.
"In Turkey it\'s all the rage now, you know, to send symbolically arranged bouquets to relate how the sender feels about the recipient." He reached out, careful to avoid the dagger like thorns adorning the locust tree\'s branches, and pulled from it a section of the flowers. They were each individually small, but arranged together like a bunch of grapes so appeared much larger than they really were. "We\'ve yet to catch on, but I do hear some royalty and nobility have taken the idea on as one of their own creation."
He held the flowers out for Clara to take. "If I remember correctly, that signifies elegance. And you are, don\'t forget that."
-
Clara inwardly sighed as she continued walking with Garrick. If she had not felt guilty for running into him, she had soon felt the underlying guilt of showing hardly any interest in his company. Though she had not planned this little occurrance, she could at least show some appreciation for it...
Afterall, perhaps this would allow her to get her mind off of both her teacher and her..sire, if only for a few hours or so. Yes, this might be a better solution than being alone. At least Garrick would occupy her so her thoughts would not drift.
With her mind made up, her gaze fell upon the tree he had led her to. Her bright green eyes grazed over the pink blooms as she sat down upon the bench with him. And no matter how defiant she had previously been, she could not hide the smallest of blushes (as much as her body would allow), that came upon her cheeks as he had handed her the blooms.
She took them timidly, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment as her eyes dropped to the bloom in her hand for a moment.
"Thank you.." She spoke quietly, lifting them to her nose for the smallest of moments, ignoring the brief flicker of an old yearning, as she recalled Torren\'s actions earlier that night.
Her hands fell back to her lap as she looked back up to Garrick. "Look, I must apologize for seeming a bit... cold. I\'ve just had a rather... difficult night, and I was only hoping for a bit of solitude in the outrun. I suppose I was acting childish." She explained quietly.
But, gods... What was she apologizing for? He had encroached on her idea of wanting to be alone! Maybe the annoyances from earlier were just sticking to her.
-
"Guest," Torren replied evenly, though his stay would be much longer. "It would be unlikely for three people to have the same rare condition unless you specifically construct a tale around it, as though it is because you found another case of it in the world, that you invited me for a visit." From there he would be seen to be spending a lot of his time with Clara, and then the most natural thing would occur - when he moved out, so would she. He kept this tidbit to himself.
The next question provided an easy change of subject. "Of course I don\'t keep one," he uttered with a scoff in his voice, then he smiled wryly. "But I do have a ship\'s travel chest."
The safest way to travel.
-
She looked at Torren with renewed interest and a glimmer of respect in her eyes. He was far more intelligent than she had given him credit for. The man had pointed out something that would have come to her eventually, but he’d reached the conclusion much faster than she had. This also made her aware that he would have to be watched carefully, by both herself and her servants.
“Alright,” she agreed. “I have a kind heart, then. So much that it is my new goal in life to find others like myself and aid them by offering both shelter and the research I have gathered over the years. Medicines and the like.”
She then laughed, and the sound even surprised her, for she covered her mouth as soon as the joyful little giggle parted her lips. “A travel chest? I hope it’s a large one.” Not only did it make her sound human, but it gave the previously haughty woman a softness that made her appear, at least for the moment, female. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “Would you like to pack your things now and leave whenever Clara decides to wander back to us?”
===
“Oh dear.” He shook his head and moved to sit beside Clara, his long legs folding as he gracefully situated himself on the bench. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. Really.”
Garrick reached over the other vampire’s head to tug at a branch until a few petals separated from the bundle of flowers and rained down to settle upon Clara’s hair. “Hmmn. See, you’re far too beautiful for me to remain upset with.” He grinned rakishly. “If I could have found it within myself to harbor such an emotion in the first place.”
Releasing his hold on the tree, his next action was quite natural. He rested his arm on the bench’s back and curled his wrist so his fingers brushed her shoulder. “That was forward of me, wasn’t it?” His grin hadn’t faded yet, so it was very obvious that he didn’t give a rat’s ass one way or the other and made his apology sound very hollow. "I am sorry, but I find it hard to halt the waggling of my tongue in your presence."
-
Clara watched him for a moment, highly hesitant to be sitting so close to the man. Especially when her thoughts were directed towards what had happened earlier on that night. She could not get her mind off of the argument, or Torren, and she found it rather frustrating.
But all thoughts and frustration had quickly melted into the uneasy sensation of having this man next to her. She did not even recall gathering his name, either. And yet, he was sitting there with a grin to his face -- one that had made her stomach curl in the slightest.
She had only given a nervous smile in return to his initial comment, finding herself to wish to get up and leave. She was uneasy enough, to hardly accept his invitation to walk off with him, and now he was sitting in rather close promixities, his arm moving easily aorund her shoulder.
Clara raised a brow slightly, turning her head to look at him with a look that was laced with shock. He was being much more forward than she had originally thought, and it was enough to make her pull herself to a stand, her arms crossed about her chest.
"Excuse me?" She asked quickly in a retaliation towards his last comment. "I hardly know you, and you hardly know me, let alone, we don\'t even know each other\'s names. I hardly think any of your comments are appropriate..." She commented, looking away for a moment. Perhaps she should flee now, and run back to Torren and Rebecca. At least she\'d be a little more comfortable in the middle of their death stares than being subject to the looks from Garrick.
-
Torren looked at her carefully, as though the female vampire was merely fooling him and leading him to believe that she was warming to him only to let his guard down. After realising she was serious, he allowed himself a smile and nodded in response to her question. "I will pack," he said. It would be busywork for him while waiting for Clara to return.
*
The blonde vampire was looking for his fledgling who often disappeared for walks in the park. He was not only frustrated with the newly-made vampire\'s desire to wander off without him, but pissed off whenever he found Garrick with someone else. It seemed his latest fledge was more interested in keeping the company of strangers than his own sire.
Lazarus was storming through the park with a purposeful step. When he spied the couple he\'d almost dismissed them for a woman was a part of said couple. Something about the male caught his eye however, and caused him to do a double take.
"Garrick," he whispered, seething. He missed the rejection Clara was making - and should he have caught it Lazarus would\'ve not continued forward, watching instead as the extremely vain young man was pushed away. It would\'ve given him something to laugh at.
He was not laughing now however, for he was too worked up at the couple\'s close proximity to realise the body language of one was not mirroring the other. All he could see as he fumed and strode towards them was that Garrick displayed the fact he wanted her.
A woman. A damned woman!
Lazarus snatched Clara\'s arm, and with ancient strength that neither of them could match (for what was a few hundred years to a vampire that was over a thousand?) pulled her away from Garrick so he could sneer at the fledge.
"She\'s not someone you can drink from," he said, already realising that what he held by the upper arm was a female -vampire- and not a mortal. "So what act is it you wish to perform upon her?"
-
Rebecca remained seated, ignoring the desire to venture out while Torren gathered his belongings. Clara might return while she was out and though she trusted the other vampire enough to allow him in her home, she didn\'t expect they\'d wait for her to return before scribbling a quick note instructing her to not follow them to whatever country they decided they would be safest in.
===
It was a proven fact that Garrick was shallow, vain, and highly egotistical. Along with those bad traits, however, was the intelligence to observe someone until he knew exactly what do to anger them. Granted, this time it had taken more effort than he would have liked to achieve the results he wanted, but the beginner\'s tricks of wandering off when Lazarus was in the middle of talking to him or simply ignoring his sire no longer caused explosive displays of rage as they\'d used to.
He\'d needed to go above and beyond his old methods and it\'d required the assistance of Clara. There was a tiny smile, a very smug thing, hovering on his lips as Lazarus snarled at him and picked the girl off the bench with very little effort.
"Does it really require an explanation?" He asked insolently. "Mmn, though, if you insist..." Garrick stretched the arm that had been curled around Clara\'s shoulder and then settled both his hands in his lap.
"I planned on bedding her. I\'d take her from the front, the back, on the floor, every way and everywhere imaginable. We\'d spend the night exploring and pleasing one another." He sniffed. "You are cruel to prevent me from finding someone that would let me take control of the situation. Unless you\'ve had a change of heart?"
-
Clara had been ready to continue her rant (god only knew she needed to vent), and would have, had it not been for the sudden grip upon her arm. For the second time that night, she had cursed at herself for being so blind to her surroundings. In an instinct, she had squirmed to try and yank free, her anger instantly coming back.
Though, this man knew Garrick, it seemed. For a moment, Clara had chosen to stay quiet, her narrowed green eyes resting upon Garrick for a moment, even as Lazarus had spoken. God, wouldn\'t she love to simply wring his arrogant little neck for only a few moments...
She continued to attempt to pull her arm back, but Lazarus was far stronger than she was. She might as well give it up until he had chosen to let her go. And perhaps Clara would have stayed quiet and submissive... Until that tiny little smile curled upon Garrick\'s lips and he gave his explination.
Her formed bristled quickly, and again, she made the attempts to pull her arm away, a bit more forcefully this time.
"Why, you arrogant little bastard!" She hissed, glaring at Garrick. Though, she could not ignore the slight temptation. Afterall, centuries of solitude can do that to a person... she would much rather go back to the apartment than to let this man do anything of the sort to her.
And her bristled form and green eyes blazing with the fire she had felt within her, it was clear she wanted to rid herself of such problems.
-
He was furious that Garrick would treat him so badly, to not only desire a body such as Clara\'s but also to describe his plans with it. As the fledge spoke Lazarus could only imagine all too well the exploits Garrick was able to have without his presence. The beautiful young man usually had people falling to their knees around him - and not just for worship. Garrick enjoyed taking advantage, which was why Lazarus had liked him enough to make him of his own kind.
Lazarus glanced over at Clara as she spoke, looking at her with distaste, not caring that such a thing would never happen between her and Garrick, hearing only the fact that Garrick had said such things about her. Jealousy sprung immediately.
Without a word, he spun on his heel (still holding Clara firmly by the arm) and marched through the park, dragging her with him. Any struggles she made would hinder him here and there for she did possess strength enough to make its presence felt, but it wouldn\'t be enough to halt him completely.
He was fairly sure Garrick would follow, but for what he was about to do to the woman, it didn\'t matter if his fledge came along or not.
-
She had been ready to rip him to peices. To pull his cocky little smile right off of his face with complete satisfaction. She had tugged and pulled trying to at least get to Garrick, though Lazarus held firmly onto her. Speaking of Lazarus, the man had been simply a bother to her ever since he had shown up. It seemed the two had much in common, and she would like nothing other than to leave the both of them.
A small growl came from the back of her throat as she tugged futilly at her arm once more, bent on getting loose and going back home. Clara had had enough of their annoyances, and she knew solidly that she would much rather be listening to the shouts of Rebecca and Torren.
But, as Lazarus roughly pulled her along with him... Well, Clara was in the least bit pleased.
"Let go of me!" She snapped, her voice even more forceful than it had been with Garrick. She was tired of it; Tired of these two; Tired of all of the stress she had recieved within the night.
Though, as Lazarus proceeded to drag her along, she had only allowed her thoughts to further on his intentions. Just what, exactly was he going to do with her? All she wanted to do was leave, goddamnit! She didn\'t ask for any of this at all!
And with that thought in mind, she continued to struggle with the stronger man, trying to release herself as best she could -- though it proved no help at all. Now, she had only wondered why she had left the saftey of Torren\'s home...
-
Garrick did follow, but it was at his own pace, and that was meandering. He had grabbed another bunch of flowers off the tree above them and strolled after Lazarus while picking off petals and allowing them to fall behind him.
Even when he figured out Lazarus\' destination had been an old well with moss growing on eroded gray stone, his look was one of disinterest. "If you\'re planning on drowning her, knowing that it\'s empty of water - and has been for years - might change your mind," he said, peering into its depths.
He was tempted to search for a stone so he could drop it into the well and see how deep it was, but he imagined that the vital seconds he spent searching for a pebble would mean he\'d miss whatever extravagant example of the girl Lazarus planned to make.
-
Lazarus didn\'t even hesitate to tell her of his plan. He merely swung Clara around with one large roundabout motion which had her upon the edge and likely teetering. It was at this point in time that many things could happen.
He reached a hand out to push her the rest of the way, so that she would fall (and of course survive, even her broken bones would heal quickly, for she was vampire), and sit at the bottom until the sun came.
Half of his intention was to throw Garrick down after her, but he was undecided about this part.
-
Clara had no knowledge of what he was to do, nor did she want to know. All she wanted, was an escape. Perhaps an amount of mercy shown.
Afterall, she had done nothing wrong that night. One moment of distress; one wrong decision was enough to condemn her to this man\'s rage. And he was hell bent on getting rid of her.
She had given a hiss as she was suddenly whipped around, her thoughts consumed by the mere struggle to get away. She hardly noticed her vulnerable state, wavering atop the edge of that old well. It was until her weight had shifted; until she had watched his hand move towards her, that her heart would have stopped if it had been previously beating.
In an instinct, she reached out to grab his arm; anything that would keep her safe from falling into the well and becoming trapped. For, who would be able to find her by morning? There were a mere couple of hours left until the sun would rise, and Rebecca and Torren were far too off in their arguments to realize she was in trouble.
So as her damned heels had caused her fall, she could only curse and fall towards the neverending bottom, waiting for the impact that was sure to cause damage.
-
Except the impact didn\'t come - not right away, in any case. As Clara fell and grabbed Lazarus\' arm, he was not prepared for it and so he too lunged towards the round opening that was sure to precede his sunshiney death. He managed to wrap his free arm around the short rock wall even as he went over, and so he was hooked there, unwillingly holding Clara, anchored to the wall, his face pressed against the cold slimy side.
"Garrick!" he cried after attempting to pull himself back up and finding no real purchase. He had the strength, just not the grip. "Garrick, love, help me up." The order was requested kindly, and there was no desperation in his voice, though there was a fine note of frustration that he needed his fledge\'s help.
-
With his usual detachment, Garrick watched Lazarus disappear into the well with the awful girl vampire and lifted his eyebrows when his sire appealed to him for assistance. He brought the few flowers still attached to the stem to his nose, breathed deeply, and tossed them into the well. The vampire then leaned over to grasp Lazarus\' hand with one of his own. With the other, he gripped firmly at his forearm.
He would have been able to lift the weight of one person easily, even his formidably tall sire, but with the girl still clinging to him, Garrick wasn\'t of much use. "Can\'t you shake her loose?"
If Lazarus chose, however, he would be able to use Garrick as the purchase he so desperately needed.
-
Clara had futilly continued holding on, even more-so when Garrick made mention of attempting to shake her off of Lazarus. She was feeling desperate, left suspended over a seemingly endless well, clinging onto a man who tried to leave her for dead. Surely, if anything happened, she would spitefully bring him with her.
"Damnit! I did absolutely nothing to either of you!" Yes, perhaps she could ismply yell and explain herself. Even though she doubted it would do a thing at all. It was the only thing she could think of, however. "That persistant man up there took me from simply wanting to go home! I have no idea why the hell you\'re so angry, but all I want to do is get the hell out of this well, and leave the both of you!" She hissed loudly.
-
Lazarus hadn\'t wanted to try shaking her loose in the event he shook his own grip loose on the brick wall of the well. With Garrick near now, he reached up and grabbed onto his fledge\'s arm. No matter what Garrick thought of his own ability, he would easily be able to pull the pair of them up due to his own formidably enhanced strength. He was a vampire, and should Lazarus not struggle against him, he would be able to pull him up.
"Garrick, love... pull." Lazarus\' impatience was creeping into his voice. He didn\'t care about the woman now, who was squalling her distaste of both of them. He didn\'t care whether she was an innocent bystander or part of the plan. Lazarus wasn\'t much to care about women in any respect.
Should the fledge pull them both up, Lazarus wouldn\'t pay any attention to the woman that clung to him, he would simply hold onto Garrick in conflict. Angry at the taunt from earlier, grateful for the saving of his undead life.
-
"But I did! And I can\'t! You\'re too heavy!" He whined in a too-loud voice. It was as his sire had observed, however. He was strong enough to lift two full grown men when he remembered he was no longer a mortal.
Before Lazarus could yell at him for being a lack-wit when under pressure, Garrick tugged at Lazarus\' arm, planting his feet against the ground and taking slow, tedious, step after the other until he could see his sire\'s head and shoulders. The fledgling continued until both ancient and fellow fledgling were pulled from the well.
Mentally, he insisted it would have been easier if Lazarus had dropped the girl as he\'d suggested, but the man was no longer dangling above a death trap. It wouldn\'t be wise to push the issue now.
-
As she felt herself being lifted, Clara only held onto Lazarus until her saftey was confirmed (for the most part). As soon as she was pulled over the edge, the girl was rather greatful for the solid ground beneath her. She unclamped herself from Lazarus almost immediately, and put a safe amount of distance between her and the well.
She did not listen to the conversation that was to occur between sire and fledge. Rather, her mind drifted to the argument she had originally had, desperately wishing to be back with Toren and her own sire.
Silently, Clara had begun to edge away, hoping for the lack of conflict. Even though she wished to protest, yell, and rant... she held it in. There would be more time for that within the saftey of her own home.
-
Lazarus was content dealing only with his fledgling, alternatively thanking Garrick and blessing him for saving him before snapping that if he hadn\'t\'ve taken on with that silly female, none of this would\'ve happened. Likely Clara would be able to slip away undetected, if this was her wish
* * * * *
Torren, meanwhile, had finished packing and was looking forward to staying with Rebecca and Clara (well... with Clara) at Rebecca\'s mansion. He\'d managed to fit his entire life into two suitcases and a carrybag, items which would travel well with him in a carriage.
He still worried for his beloved, hoping that he\'d done the right thing to give her time, hoping to find her at the house Rebecca had invited him to stay (after his suggestion was made).
-
Clara was none too relieved as the attention was not upon her in the least. She did not hesitate before easily slipping away from the last two vampires whohad caused her enough trouble for one night. After that, a fight with Torren and Rebecca seemed rather welcoming.
The girl finally exited the park with such a brisque pace, thatshe hardly even noticed where she was going. All she wanted was the security of someplace she knew. And with the sun due to rise soon, she had no other option but to return to Torren\'s dwelling.
Though, with her earlier escapades, she was hardly complaining as she made her way up the front steps, recalling just what door he would be found behind. She was expecting to be greeted with a rather large mess and quarreling, but as she approached the higher floor, she heard none.
A million options running through her mind, she moved to grasp the doorhandle, before moving inside the room. Inside, she was not met with the mess she had been anticipating. Though, perhaps they were not anticipating the messy state she was in, either.
Her hair was falling out of its pins, and even her outfit had small rips and tears in it from being thrown so ungracefully in the well. She looked tired, and none too happy, other than the prospect of being there.
And without a word spoken, Clara moved to the small couch she had previously been sitting on, before letting her body fall back into its cushions with a deep sigh.
-
Rebecca had grown bored with sitting when Torren left her to venture into his rooms, so went after him. She\'d watched silently from the doorway as he closed the last of his suitcases up and then held a hand out for one as the vampire tried to juggle all three. They might have more strength than five mortal men together, but their arms did not grow any longer when they were turned. It was easier to make it through doors as well.
She led the way through his house and to the street where her personal carriage waited for them. After loading everything into it, they both returned to Torren\'s apartment and after demanding a sheet of paper, quill and ink, Rebecca quickly scribbled a note for Clara to find if she returned before they did.
[INDENT]Clara,
I am escorting Torren and his belongings to the mansion. We will try and return before the sun moves across the sky again. However, if you wish, there is enough coin on the table for you to hail a carriage and meet us there.
We send our apologies we could not wait any longer to assure ourselves with our own eyes that you are doing well. Be safe.
Rebecca and Torren
[/INDENT]She\'d signed with a flourish and then handed the quill to Torren to sign as well after he deemed the note to his liking. Folding it and then pulling from her dress money for Clara, she put both the letter and coins on a table near the couch.
That had been an hour ago and they were only just reaching the grounds that cradled her expansive home within rolling green pastures and burbling creeks. It was like being transported to another world, one a person could retreat to and pretend city life was only a nightmare.
Rebecca sighed and pulled aside the curtains hiding this view from Torren.
"Home," she said with a small smile. "Is it to your liking?"
-
"It\'s lovely," he said blandly, "but something\'s missing."
He was worried, his arrival into Clara\'s life had been both wonderful and terrible, enveloping her into his home and then driving her away with his arguments.
How he wished he\'d taken chase after her, and now as he arrived, how he wished he\'d waited back at the apartment for her.
It seemed every decision he made that did not take him to her, would be filled with regret.
-
It took her a moment after her arrival to finally notice the piece of paper that was placed upon the table. A sigh fell to her lips as her eyes were closed. They were not there...
Inwardly, she was almost frustrated that they had left without her, but the morning would be soon. For a moment, she thought that perhaps... Rebecca had gone home and Torren had run off...
Though, as her curiosity sparked, she lifted the paper, making sure to push the small coins away from it. Her bright green eyes fell over the written script slowly, as her gaze paused upon Torren\'s signature for a moment. Another sigh fell from her lips.
"Well, I suppose I should get going then..." Clara muttered softly, retrieving the coins that were left for her, in hopes of grabbing a cab. She walked towards the door, taking one last glance at Torren\'s home before closing it behind her, walking slowly down the stairs.
She was not fond of walking alone that night, especially after what had happened to her earlier, but there was no other option. She walked out into the warm night air as her eyes scanned the grounds for a waiting cab.
And she was in luck.
Walking to the cab, she told the man the simple directions to the mansion, and climbed inside. Within the confines of the cab, and with the sudden movements of it, she sighed to herself. She lifted her arms to pull out the pins that held up her long tresses, running her fingers through it slowly. It would be a short ride, but all she wanted, was to be home.
-
((XD The ride took Rebecca and Torren an hour. Did Clara pick up a speed coach?))
"Indeed, there is, but she will return to us soon enough," she said as the carriage came to a stop before a stone-paved walkway. Without waiting for assistance, Rebecca slid from the carriage and gestured with an imperious hand for the driver to deliver Mr. Torren\'s belongings to the main hall entrance.
"Come along," she said over her shoulder, then sashayed toward the great cream colored front of the mansion.
She led him through an archway filled with lush greenery and vines, coming to a stop before two vibrantly red doors. "Remember what I said about the servants," she said, opening them.
As she spoke, she walked - and expected Torren would follow. "To our left, through the great room and past the kitchen - as you can see - are the rooms you may choose from. They are all decorated individually, but if you do not like the appearance of the one you decide on, feel free to steal any items you do like from the others. That includes bedding, candles. Whatever pleases you."
She did not bestow upon him the location of her room or Clara\'s.
-
Torren noticed the lack of information about where Rebecca\'s and Clara\'s rooms were, simply because he wanted to know the latter. He was not so tactless that he would ask, however, for it would be improper for a gentleman to inquire after a lady\'s room - not that he thought Clara would care, but Rebecca certainly would.
Offending the woman who\'d agreed he could stay in her home along with her charge was not setting on the right foot. Smiling, nodding and thanking her, he continued the conversation in the same vein as she\'d pathed.
"I\'m sure whatever style you\'ve used to decorate will result in a tasteful room," he complimented, "if the appearance of the house and hall is anything to judge by. I might choose a temporary room quickly before I make my final decision, for it won\'t be long before the sun rises."
He observed any life nearby, if there were servants, pets or possibly Clara through the front door. He knew it was wishful thinking, to have her with him again tonight to finish the conversation they\'d started before Rebecca had interrupted them.
-
Ooc|| Whoops. x3
Clara sighed softly as she fell into the rythm of the moving carriage, rather tense, for she knew sunrise would come all too soon. Yes, she was cutting it short in her ride home, and perhaps she should have taken a second thought into staying at Torren\'s residence for the night.
Now, she found herself willing the driver to move faster, as her green eyes peered through the small window that was provided. Settling back against her seat, she took to nibbling on her lower lip gently as the time continued to pass by slowly.
\'Damnit...\'
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Ooc|
Um... Did this... die?? -pout-
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OOC: I\'m waiting on Erebus, the muse is being cruel to Jay. I\'ll ask if the Jay doctor can post a little something/anything.
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Ooc|
Ah. Okay. I thought ya\'ll left me. x3