Kvornan can hardly believe it.
Showing posts with label Arpeggio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arpeggio. Show all posts
Five
January 13, 2051 - Auxiliary Rd.; Millhaven, Pleasantview
“Wake-up, ugly!” Alexei’s method of rousing Kvornan was always to first imagine firing a cannon at bowling pins and then to recreate the effect vocally where Kvornan represented the pins and Alec, the cannon. Kvornan’s eyes shot open.
“What is it?” Kvornan pressed the bridge of his nose with the heel of his hand, squinting groggily.
“What is it?” Alexei parroted. “What is it? Why it’s only the first respectable snow of the year! Check it out. It’s sticking and everything.” Alexei perched above Kvornan’s bed wearing a smile that eagerly awaited some form of reciprocal enthusiasm. Kvornan knitted his brow in confusion, turning over and murmuring a phrase in Ashkay that Alexei would later learn translated to ‘your mother's cunt is choked with the seed of dogs’. Alexei grabbed a handful of Kvornan’s blanket and tugged, finding it unnaturally immovable. "What have you done to your bedding, mate?"
"Asshole-proofed it," Kvornan muttered, drawing the sheets around his chin.
"You're no fun." Alexei pondered saddling his roommate and pulling the covers down from that position but he knew that the attempt would be futile. Rejected, Alexei returned to his post at the window.
The powdered world was serene, beautiful even. Hours seemed to pass as Alexei watched the asphalt disappear. Early morning snow reminded him of sand. Sand brought to mind an often revisited memory—Black saltwater waves. Kvornan’s breath suspended in the night air. Shelter beneath a tower of beveled glass. "Remember that time we had to spend the night on Amrita Beach?" Alexei offered.
"You mean three weeks ago?” Alexei’s gaze traced the window frame while his mind skipped backwards through a series of recently filed memories until he reached Amrita.
"Oh right. So it was. Seems like longer though, doesn't it?"
"No." His tone was heavy, flat. They never discussed Amrita Beach, not even as it was happening. From that night on, they were bound by a mutual understanding that was intrinsic to the situation and therefore warranted no discussion. Alexei had seen his friend transform the very ground beneath him from sand to glass in a matter of seconds and now every word, every moment, every glance that passed between them would recall Kvornan’s divinity. Amrita Beach was for Alexei a souvenir in a crystal display case with a caption that read: Death eats at your table. Death shaves his head with your razor. Death watches your television screen. Death never laughs at your jokes.
Antoine questioned whether Alexei knew what he was doing in bringing Kvornan into their lives. The truth, which Alexei admitted freely to himself, was that he did not know but he was already too invested in the other man. Alexei could not have walked away even if Kvornan returned home to Ethelden. Not if, Alexei reminded himself. When. Kvornan twisted in his sheets.
"You want me go so you can get back to sleep?"
"Pointless. I am very much awake now, thank you."
"Oh good!" Alexei beamed at Kvornan, who made an annoyed, guttural sound. He sat up in bed.
"What are we doing today anyway?" Kvornan asked.
"I don't know. Antoine and I thought we might catch a show tonight. You want to go?"
"Sure. I read in the paper that Ursula Paris is singing at Golding's tonight." Alexei rolled his eyes at the announcement.
"Pssh, she ain't kin. You want to hear real Rock and Roll, Big Meggie's playing down at the Swan Dive around seven. Your girl could never hold a note like Meg." Kvornan smirked with his eyes alone.
"Ursula's better looking though,” he said. Alexei shook his head.
"I disagree. She’s got nothing to grab onto. Big Meg's a real woman. But who cares what she looks like? When she starts singing, Yoouuu ain't noth'n but a hound dog! Quit snoop'n 'round my door! everyone in the joint goes mad. Meg could look like a walrus in a frock and still go home with anyone she wanted. Damn. One thing's for sure-- If she ever let me anywhere near her door I'd do a lot more than snoop." Kvornan bit his lip, concealing what Alexei suspected was a chuckle.
"I've never heard you speak this way before," Kvornan said.
"What? About broads?"
"No. Like a Townie. 'She ain't kin’?"
"Oh!" Alexei laughed airily, feeling self-conscious. "No escaping who you are, I suppose." Kvornan kicked aside a bit of the afghan that had tangled its self around his ankle.
"Do you still consider yourself a Townsman?" Alexei began rocking on his heels.
"’Course I do."
"You say that as though it were obvious."
"Isn't it though? We don't live in Millhaven for our health, Vince."
"But surely you're outside of the caste system as a vampire?"
"Legally, yes. Socially, never. I couldn't pretend to be a Res if I wanted to. Townie is more than a caste. It's a state of mind." Silence. Kvornan looked up at nothing in particular.
"I was born a Townsman," he said. Alexei stopped his rocking.
"Really? I believe it, actually. You look like a Townie." Kvornan knitted his brow, more in humor than in confusion.
"What does a Townie look like?" Alexei shrugged.
"I don't know but you have the look."
"So are we going to the Swan Dive tonight?"
"Yeah but don't talk when you're there. The whole illusion of Vincent Randall sort of evaporates the second you open your mouth."
"I'll tell them that I’m a Resident and that I’m there because Emilia and I are lovers."
"Two things wrong with that. One, people will be pissed that you would parade that around and two, Emilia isn't even going. Best to keep quiet. And you can't pretend to be with me, I'll be browsing the buffet. And you can't pretend to be with Antoine because everyone knows that he lost the key to his chastity belt decades ago."
"When you say 'browsing the buffet' do you mean--" Alexei interrupted Kvornan with a wince.
"Just flirting. It was a poor choice of words. I don’t play with my food."
"What if I want to order a drink?"
"Sorry?"
"I'm not allowed to speak."
"You can order but no prolonged conversations. I'm serious. Your accent makes you sound like a professor of religion."
"I was a professor of religion."
"My point exactly. Forget who you were. You're Vince the Townie now."
“Wake-up, ugly!” Alexei’s method of rousing Kvornan was always to first imagine firing a cannon at bowling pins and then to recreate the effect vocally where Kvornan represented the pins and Alec, the cannon. Kvornan’s eyes shot open.
“What is it?” Kvornan pressed the bridge of his nose with the heel of his hand, squinting groggily.
“What is it?” Alexei parroted. “What is it? Why it’s only the first respectable snow of the year! Check it out. It’s sticking and everything.” Alexei perched above Kvornan’s bed wearing a smile that eagerly awaited some form of reciprocal enthusiasm. Kvornan knitted his brow in confusion, turning over and murmuring a phrase in Ashkay that Alexei would later learn translated to ‘your mother's cunt is choked with the seed of dogs’. Alexei grabbed a handful of Kvornan’s blanket and tugged, finding it unnaturally immovable. "What have you done to your bedding, mate?"
"Asshole-proofed it," Kvornan muttered, drawing the sheets around his chin.
"You're no fun." Alexei pondered saddling his roommate and pulling the covers down from that position but he knew that the attempt would be futile. Rejected, Alexei returned to his post at the window.
The powdered world was serene, beautiful even. Hours seemed to pass as Alexei watched the asphalt disappear. Early morning snow reminded him of sand. Sand brought to mind an often revisited memory—Black saltwater waves. Kvornan’s breath suspended in the night air. Shelter beneath a tower of beveled glass. "Remember that time we had to spend the night on Amrita Beach?" Alexei offered.
"You mean three weeks ago?” Alexei’s gaze traced the window frame while his mind skipped backwards through a series of recently filed memories until he reached Amrita.
"Oh right. So it was. Seems like longer though, doesn't it?"
"No." His tone was heavy, flat. They never discussed Amrita Beach, not even as it was happening. From that night on, they were bound by a mutual understanding that was intrinsic to the situation and therefore warranted no discussion. Alexei had seen his friend transform the very ground beneath him from sand to glass in a matter of seconds and now every word, every moment, every glance that passed between them would recall Kvornan’s divinity. Amrita Beach was for Alexei a souvenir in a crystal display case with a caption that read: Death eats at your table. Death shaves his head with your razor. Death watches your television screen. Death never laughs at your jokes.
Antoine questioned whether Alexei knew what he was doing in bringing Kvornan into their lives. The truth, which Alexei admitted freely to himself, was that he did not know but he was already too invested in the other man. Alexei could not have walked away even if Kvornan returned home to Ethelden. Not if, Alexei reminded himself. When. Kvornan twisted in his sheets.
"You want me go so you can get back to sleep?"
"Pointless. I am very much awake now, thank you."
"Oh good!" Alexei beamed at Kvornan, who made an annoyed, guttural sound. He sat up in bed.
"What are we doing today anyway?" Kvornan asked.
"I don't know. Antoine and I thought we might catch a show tonight. You want to go?"
"Sure. I read in the paper that Ursula Paris is singing at Golding's tonight." Alexei rolled his eyes at the announcement.
"Pssh, she ain't kin. You want to hear real Rock and Roll, Big Meggie's playing down at the Swan Dive around seven. Your girl could never hold a note like Meg." Kvornan smirked with his eyes alone.
"Ursula's better looking though,” he said. Alexei shook his head.
"I disagree. She’s got nothing to grab onto. Big Meg's a real woman. But who cares what she looks like? When she starts singing, Yoouuu ain't noth'n but a hound dog! Quit snoop'n 'round my door! everyone in the joint goes mad. Meg could look like a walrus in a frock and still go home with anyone she wanted. Damn. One thing's for sure-- If she ever let me anywhere near her door I'd do a lot more than snoop." Kvornan bit his lip, concealing what Alexei suspected was a chuckle.
"I've never heard you speak this way before," Kvornan said.
"What? About broads?"
"No. Like a Townie. 'She ain't kin’?"
"Oh!" Alexei laughed airily, feeling self-conscious. "No escaping who you are, I suppose." Kvornan kicked aside a bit of the afghan that had tangled its self around his ankle.
"Do you still consider yourself a Townsman?" Alexei began rocking on his heels.
"’Course I do."
"You say that as though it were obvious."
"Isn't it though? We don't live in Millhaven for our health, Vince."
"But surely you're outside of the caste system as a vampire?"
"Legally, yes. Socially, never. I couldn't pretend to be a Res if I wanted to. Townie is more than a caste. It's a state of mind." Silence. Kvornan looked up at nothing in particular.
"I was born a Townsman," he said. Alexei stopped his rocking.
"Really? I believe it, actually. You look like a Townie." Kvornan knitted his brow, more in humor than in confusion.
"What does a Townie look like?" Alexei shrugged.
"I don't know but you have the look."
"So are we going to the Swan Dive tonight?"
"Yeah but don't talk when you're there. The whole illusion of Vincent Randall sort of evaporates the second you open your mouth."
"I'll tell them that I’m a Resident and that I’m there because Emilia and I are lovers."
"Two things wrong with that. One, people will be pissed that you would parade that around and two, Emilia isn't even going. Best to keep quiet. And you can't pretend to be with me, I'll be browsing the buffet. And you can't pretend to be with Antoine because everyone knows that he lost the key to his chastity belt decades ago."
"When you say 'browsing the buffet' do you mean--" Alexei interrupted Kvornan with a wince.
"Just flirting. It was a poor choice of words. I don’t play with my food."
"What if I want to order a drink?"
"Sorry?"
"I'm not allowed to speak."
"You can order but no prolonged conversations. I'm serious. Your accent makes you sound like a professor of religion."
"I was a professor of religion."
"My point exactly. Forget who you were. You're Vince the Townie now."
Four
January 12, 2051- 9105 Graycastor Run Rd.; Faulk, Pleasantview
Kvornan did not self-examine very often these days. The panoptic reality of Alexei Garrison left little room for self-examination. But treading backwards across the shag carpet of a donor house with Alexei fast at his toes lead Kvornan as much to an epiphany as to an actual, physical destination. He felt awkward. He felt awkward and try as he might, he could not recall the last time this emotion beat its powdered wings against his ribcage, made his pulse race and his footing precarious. Therein lay the realization: If he was only just this moment rediscovering awkward then how many other simple human emotions had he lost over the years?
As Kvornan's back approached the door to what he suspected would be his room for the night, he imagined the act of taking a donor. The unwritten social contract that must exist for these arrangements was a perfect mystery to him. He imagined fumbling through the act like a teenager reaching third base but upon reflection, that was not what worried him. What worried him was Alexei's babbling, which he had stopped listening to over half a minute ago and worse, the smile that went along with it. When Alexei was teasing, his face lit up like some kind of sugar-coated jack-o-lanturn, spewing gum drops and rainbows from its roughly hewn orifices. Either Alexei was grotesque for all of his sunshine or Kvornan was assigning traits that were not really present. More likely the latter.
"Here we are, nice and cozy!" Alexei reached for the doorknob behind Kvornan's back and leaned his weight forward just close enough to force Kvornan into the room. Kvornan took a few faltering steps backward, oscillating between timidity and indignation.
The room smelled like aerosol spray and cigarettes. A cursory glance over his shoulder revealed furniture that seemed to be outfitted for a teenage girl. For the first time, Kvornan wondered who lived here. Were they human? Vampire? Did their secret smoker daughter hide somewhere in the house while it buzzed with consensual abuse? Out of the corner of his eye, Kvornan saw a figure on the bed that he knew to be female but he refused to look at her properly. It felt indecent to look.
"Now you be gentle with him, Leah. He's as fresh as a newborn lamb," Alexei shouted towards the bed. A dark and somewhat agitated Townie woman tugged on the back of Alexei's shirt in a bid for his attention. He swatted at her without turning and tipped an imaginary hat at Kvornan as he closed the door behind himself. For a moment, Kvornan stared blankly at the peeling paint on the door. As he reached out towards the handle, a voice floated up from the bed.
"You know, you can come over here if you want. I don't bite." Kvornan tried the handle but the knob was loose and the barrel spun, unfastening nothing. "I'm Leah. What's your name?" she pressed. Kvornan let go of the door and turned around, defeated.
The woman on the bed was of indeterminate age, with platinum white hair and fine creases at the edges of her eyes. He used to see this often in his subalterns. Constant feeding prematurely aged the body. Judging by her appearance, he thought that she had three to five more years of life expectancy left at her rate of energy loss.
"Vincent." His murmured name was so feeble that it surprised him. He gestured towards the door. "Glad to meet you but I should get going." Leah tossed her hair over her shoulder in a way that was both subtle and inviting. He could smell her now, masked beneath the more corporeal fragrances of the room. Leah's blood smelled of a temple service to the Ba-- vetiver, balsam, sandalwood, resin. It was a bit disorienting for Kvornan who had not seen the inside of a temple in years.
"Stay." Her voice was soft, almost seductive.
Kvornan stammered for a moment. Meanwhile, Leah looked at him like a child who was expected to recite his lesson. Perhaps she truly believed that he was young. That would be for the best. An older vampire coming out of the woodwork for the first time would arouse suspicion. Who made him? Where did he come from? Where did he feed and from whom? Kvornan could not afford to tell the truth but he was too headstrong to lie. Alexei knew as much.
When they first arrived, Alexei introduced Kvornan as his "first act of biological warfare against the Fae race". No one questioned whether Kvornan was Alexei's spawn or even if Alexei had the right to spawn. Nor did they question the identity of Vincent Randall the 32-year-old halfling from Kent. It was Kvornan's understanding that the Garrisons were in Cade Muenda's confidence. As a result, Alexei's words and actions went unchallenged.
It took a considerable amount of willpower for Kvornan to make it over to the bed beside Leah. Truth be told, he was hungry and he did want her. She began to loosen the laces on her blouse.
"Why do you do this?" He spoke in order to stall the inevitable as much to hear her reponse. She stopped what she was doing.
"Do you mean me specifically or donors in general?" Kvornan ran his thumb along the ridges of his own wrist, hunger needling his veins.
"Both, I guess," he said. Leah leaned back, taking him in.
"Well some donors-- a lot of donors, really-- do it because it makes them feel special. You know?"
"How so?" Leah shrugged at the question, glancing briefly over Kvornan's shoulder.
"We know a side of human nature that all those normals out there with their nine to five jobs and two point three children can scarcely imagine. That makes us better, smarter." Leah paused to pull up a fallen shoulder strap. "Personally, I couldn’t care less about getting to know you or any other vampire. No offense, I just don’t feel like I have to delude myself into thinking that I know what your life is like day to day or even that knowing gives me more insight into the universe. Not that I feel the need to know the universe better. Fuck the universe. What has it ever done for me? I’m a donor because I like to forget. That’s it, pure and simple. Are you going to help me forget, Vincent?"
He locked eyes with her. For a brief and painful moment, he felt like he knew this woman. He studied her face, trying to imagine it before the ravages of her weakened life force but he could not. Her weathered body was as much a part of her as what shattered soul sat enthroned at the heart of it. Leah was ruined. Numb. Just like him. In a more perfect world, he would have the option to forget too. And he would take it.
Kvornan ran his fingers through her heavily starched hair, moving closer to her on the bed. Donation was a filthy, sordid thing but he saw now that it was not so cruel as his initial impression. To walk away, leaving her with her thoughts would have been the cruel thing to do.
Leah grabbed the back of his neck, urging him towards some semblance of life.
Kvornan did not self-examine very often these days. The panoptic reality of Alexei Garrison left little room for self-examination. But treading backwards across the shag carpet of a donor house with Alexei fast at his toes lead Kvornan as much to an epiphany as to an actual, physical destination. He felt awkward. He felt awkward and try as he might, he could not recall the last time this emotion beat its powdered wings against his ribcage, made his pulse race and his footing precarious. Therein lay the realization: If he was only just this moment rediscovering awkward then how many other simple human emotions had he lost over the years?
As Kvornan's back approached the door to what he suspected would be his room for the night, he imagined the act of taking a donor. The unwritten social contract that must exist for these arrangements was a perfect mystery to him. He imagined fumbling through the act like a teenager reaching third base but upon reflection, that was not what worried him. What worried him was Alexei's babbling, which he had stopped listening to over half a minute ago and worse, the smile that went along with it. When Alexei was teasing, his face lit up like some kind of sugar-coated jack-o-lanturn, spewing gum drops and rainbows from its roughly hewn orifices. Either Alexei was grotesque for all of his sunshine or Kvornan was assigning traits that were not really present. More likely the latter.
"Here we are, nice and cozy!" Alexei reached for the doorknob behind Kvornan's back and leaned his weight forward just close enough to force Kvornan into the room. Kvornan took a few faltering steps backward, oscillating between timidity and indignation.
The room smelled like aerosol spray and cigarettes. A cursory glance over his shoulder revealed furniture that seemed to be outfitted for a teenage girl. For the first time, Kvornan wondered who lived here. Were they human? Vampire? Did their secret smoker daughter hide somewhere in the house while it buzzed with consensual abuse? Out of the corner of his eye, Kvornan saw a figure on the bed that he knew to be female but he refused to look at her properly. It felt indecent to look.
"Now you be gentle with him, Leah. He's as fresh as a newborn lamb," Alexei shouted towards the bed. A dark and somewhat agitated Townie woman tugged on the back of Alexei's shirt in a bid for his attention. He swatted at her without turning and tipped an imaginary hat at Kvornan as he closed the door behind himself. For a moment, Kvornan stared blankly at the peeling paint on the door. As he reached out towards the handle, a voice floated up from the bed.
"You know, you can come over here if you want. I don't bite." Kvornan tried the handle but the knob was loose and the barrel spun, unfastening nothing. "I'm Leah. What's your name?" she pressed. Kvornan let go of the door and turned around, defeated.
The woman on the bed was of indeterminate age, with platinum white hair and fine creases at the edges of her eyes. He used to see this often in his subalterns. Constant feeding prematurely aged the body. Judging by her appearance, he thought that she had three to five more years of life expectancy left at her rate of energy loss.
"Vincent." His murmured name was so feeble that it surprised him. He gestured towards the door. "Glad to meet you but I should get going." Leah tossed her hair over her shoulder in a way that was both subtle and inviting. He could smell her now, masked beneath the more corporeal fragrances of the room. Leah's blood smelled of a temple service to the Ba-- vetiver, balsam, sandalwood, resin. It was a bit disorienting for Kvornan who had not seen the inside of a temple in years.
"Stay." Her voice was soft, almost seductive.
Kvornan stammered for a moment. Meanwhile, Leah looked at him like a child who was expected to recite his lesson. Perhaps she truly believed that he was young. That would be for the best. An older vampire coming out of the woodwork for the first time would arouse suspicion. Who made him? Where did he come from? Where did he feed and from whom? Kvornan could not afford to tell the truth but he was too headstrong to lie. Alexei knew as much.
When they first arrived, Alexei introduced Kvornan as his "first act of biological warfare against the Fae race". No one questioned whether Kvornan was Alexei's spawn or even if Alexei had the right to spawn. Nor did they question the identity of Vincent Randall the 32-year-old halfling from Kent. It was Kvornan's understanding that the Garrisons were in Cade Muenda's confidence. As a result, Alexei's words and actions went unchallenged.
It took a considerable amount of willpower for Kvornan to make it over to the bed beside Leah. Truth be told, he was hungry and he did want her. She began to loosen the laces on her blouse.
"Why do you do this?" He spoke in order to stall the inevitable as much to hear her reponse. She stopped what she was doing.
"Do you mean me specifically or donors in general?" Kvornan ran his thumb along the ridges of his own wrist, hunger needling his veins.
"Both, I guess," he said. Leah leaned back, taking him in.
"Well some donors-- a lot of donors, really-- do it because it makes them feel special. You know?"
"How so?" Leah shrugged at the question, glancing briefly over Kvornan's shoulder.
"We know a side of human nature that all those normals out there with their nine to five jobs and two point three children can scarcely imagine. That makes us better, smarter." Leah paused to pull up a fallen shoulder strap. "Personally, I couldn’t care less about getting to know you or any other vampire. No offense, I just don’t feel like I have to delude myself into thinking that I know what your life is like day to day or even that knowing gives me more insight into the universe. Not that I feel the need to know the universe better. Fuck the universe. What has it ever done for me? I’m a donor because I like to forget. That’s it, pure and simple. Are you going to help me forget, Vincent?"
He locked eyes with her. For a brief and painful moment, he felt like he knew this woman. He studied her face, trying to imagine it before the ravages of her weakened life force but he could not. Her weathered body was as much a part of her as what shattered soul sat enthroned at the heart of it. Leah was ruined. Numb. Just like him. In a more perfect world, he would have the option to forget too. And he would take it.
Kvornan ran his fingers through her heavily starched hair, moving closer to her on the bed. Donation was a filthy, sordid thing but he saw now that it was not so cruel as his initial impression. To walk away, leaving her with her thoughts would have been the cruel thing to do.
Leah grabbed the back of his neck, urging him towards some semblance of life.
Yeah, I've been neglectful too.
But if Veron, with her crazy happenings in life, can hash out an entire stunning chapter of ATC then I should be able to complete the 80% written, 100% photographed Arpeggio that I have been holding onto for ages. Later today.
Three
January 08, 2051- 388 Auxiliary Rd.; Millhaven, Pleasantview
Somehow, this was where Alexei had expected to find Kvornan, perched like a monument in the alleyway behind their home. It was well past ten. The rain spewed forth in grubby sheets, beading on Kvornan's face and eyelashes. His drenched tunic clung to chest, one of the few articles of Fae clothing that he still owned. Alexei drew his collar up around his neck, tossing his sopping wet hair away from his face. This was the remarkable thing about life-- Six months ago, he could have never imagined himself in this moment. He took his place next to Kvornan and cleared his throat before speaking.
"Do you know what I like to do on rainy nights like these? I like to sit outside on a flea-infested mattress, watching a dying lamppost. That's what I like to do. It's funny how much you and I have in common," he said. There was no response. Alexei leaned forward, trying to catch Kvornan's attention as he stared straight ahead. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you're trying to avoid me. But then, that would be presumptuous of me." Kvornan did not move. The problem seemed to be less that he was ignoring Alexei and more that he simply had not registered the presence of another person. His eyes were wide and unfocused, not merely grim but beleaguered. Alexei had the creeping sensation that he was somehow intruding. He patted his palms against his lap. "Sorry," he muttered. When he went to stand, Kvornan's hand shot out to grab his wrist, urging him to sit back down.
"I would never admit this in mixed company but I like listening to you talk." Kvornan's voice was rushed. Alexei reprised his seat, mystified. Kvornan still had not turned to look at him. Alexei glanced off into the street, nearly believing that Kvornan was watching something. From his time spent traveling with Kvornan, he knew that the man could see things that other people could not. A police speed trap behind a billboard. Another vampire in a rest stop bathroom stall. A field of ripe corn just off the highway. Kvornan's hand slid away from Alexei's wrist. They didn't know one another well but Alexei was finding it increasingly difficult to just stand by while Kvornan deteriorated day by day. Alexei screwed his eyes shut against the rain.
"What are you doing out here, mate?"
"Thinking."
"Couldn't you do that inside where it is warm and dry?" Kvornan did not respond. Alexei wondered briefly if he had sunken back into his vegetative state.
"Why did you decide to turn?" Alexei had not been anticipating that question. Or indeed, any question. He smiled feebly.
"Fear. I was dying. Tuberculosis. You have to be in a pretty special place before vampirism seems like a viable lifestyle choice. Looking back though, it was the right decision for me. That would have been a shit time to die. Every morning I wake up and I know that my best days are still ahead of me. I wasn't so sure back then."
"How can you be sure now?" Kvornan turned towards him, his expression wracked with a quiet disbelief. Alexei nudged him playfully with his shoulder.
"Because."
Somehow, this was where Alexei had expected to find Kvornan, perched like a monument in the alleyway behind their home. It was well past ten. The rain spewed forth in grubby sheets, beading on Kvornan's face and eyelashes. His drenched tunic clung to chest, one of the few articles of Fae clothing that he still owned. Alexei drew his collar up around his neck, tossing his sopping wet hair away from his face. This was the remarkable thing about life-- Six months ago, he could have never imagined himself in this moment. He took his place next to Kvornan and cleared his throat before speaking.
"Do you know what I like to do on rainy nights like these? I like to sit outside on a flea-infested mattress, watching a dying lamppost. That's what I like to do. It's funny how much you and I have in common," he said. There was no response. Alexei leaned forward, trying to catch Kvornan's attention as he stared straight ahead. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you're trying to avoid me. But then, that would be presumptuous of me." Kvornan did not move. The problem seemed to be less that he was ignoring Alexei and more that he simply had not registered the presence of another person. His eyes were wide and unfocused, not merely grim but beleaguered. Alexei had the creeping sensation that he was somehow intruding. He patted his palms against his lap. "Sorry," he muttered. When he went to stand, Kvornan's hand shot out to grab his wrist, urging him to sit back down.
"I would never admit this in mixed company but I like listening to you talk." Kvornan's voice was rushed. Alexei reprised his seat, mystified. Kvornan still had not turned to look at him. Alexei glanced off into the street, nearly believing that Kvornan was watching something. From his time spent traveling with Kvornan, he knew that the man could see things that other people could not. A police speed trap behind a billboard. Another vampire in a rest stop bathroom stall. A field of ripe corn just off the highway. Kvornan's hand slid away from Alexei's wrist. They didn't know one another well but Alexei was finding it increasingly difficult to just stand by while Kvornan deteriorated day by day. Alexei screwed his eyes shut against the rain.
"What are you doing out here, mate?"
"Thinking."
"Couldn't you do that inside where it is warm and dry?" Kvornan did not respond. Alexei wondered briefly if he had sunken back into his vegetative state.
"Why did you decide to turn?" Alexei had not been anticipating that question. Or indeed, any question. He smiled feebly.
"Fear. I was dying. Tuberculosis. You have to be in a pretty special place before vampirism seems like a viable lifestyle choice. Looking back though, it was the right decision for me. That would have been a shit time to die. Every morning I wake up and I know that my best days are still ahead of me. I wasn't so sure back then."
"How can you be sure now?" Kvornan turned towards him, his expression wracked with a quiet disbelief. Alexei nudged him playfully with his shoulder.
"Because."
Two
January 06, 2051- 388 Auxiliary Rd.; Millhaven, Pleasantview
The sound of children at play slipped into the house through the aging windows. Their laughter colored Kvornan's early morning dreams, igniting long-buried memories. He saw Jennail running through the palace orchards, little more than a girl, flushed and glowing. Her dark hair battered her face as she smiled, all crooked teeth and piercing eyes. He had been so in love with her once. It was easy for him to forget those feelings during the last years of her life but recently the memories were becoming more vivid, more potent.
Kvornan pressed his fingers into his tear ducts. He regretted that Alexei left early for his bakery job. Without Alexei blathering away, Kvornan was left to the mercy his imagination. Eventually, he detangled himself from the comforter and forced his body out of bed, seeking a source of distraction.
The grandfather clock in the corridor chimed the hour as Kvornan descended the staircase. Dinner was roasting in the kitchen, filling the house with the scents of rosemary and citrus. In the parlor, Emilia sat softly humming to herself. Kvornan could not remember when he had last been in a place that was so comforting as this. Perhaps he never had.
The Garrisons were a tightly knit, rather private family and Kvornan was under the impression that Alexei had done something unprecedented in allowing an outsider into their home. Emilia had been instantly welcoming but not in the merry way that a person might normally welcome company. It was more defeatist than that. She seemed to think that Kvornan was an obligation that she couldn't shake. When Alexei first introduced him, Emilia shrugged her shoulders as if to say, What's another one? and instructed them to wash up for dinner.
Antoine made himself scarce. This suited Kvornan well enough since he had long since fallen out of the habit of communicating with people. Alexei, on the other hand, rarely left Kvornan's side. He was a motormouth and could be rather pestilential at times but Kvornan was grateful for him.
At the bottom of the steps, Kvornan placed his hands on his lower back and arched his shoulders, stretching. It had been over a year since he had last slept on a mattress and the Garrisons had insisted that he migrate from the livingroom to the fold-out bed in Alexei's room. In the time that it took for Kvornan to stretch, Emilia stopped humming. Kvornan froze where he stood.
"Why don't you come in for a sec and keep an old lady company? It's dull as tombs around here." Kvornan approached the sitting room slowly, apprehensively. With each step, he wondered how long it had been since he had been alone in a room with a woman. Perhaps years.
Emilia sat on a worn and tattered sofa, surrounded by blankets and shirts, sewing needle in hand. Kvornan paused in the doorway, clutching the wall.
"I don't want to interrupt," he said.
"Interrupt what? I'm just doing the mending. Did Alec go out?" Kvornan took the seat adjacent to Emilia, nearest to the door.
"He did, I think. Early." Emilia clicked her tongue disapprovingly.
"Boy runs around like a ferret in a minefield. He don't know where he's going but he's headed there fast and sooner or later, the ground's gonna blow up right from under him. You settling in okay?" Kvornan blinked, unsure of how to respond. He had not considered 'settling in'. Being here was only a temporary condition.
"I am. Thank you. I apologize for having been dumped in your lap, so to speak. I know that you and Antoine were not expecting me." Emilia waved dismissively.
"We was surprised is all. Our Alec doesn't normally take to folks. I mean, he takes to everyone soon as he meets 'em but then he goes off 'em just as quick. Must really like you." Kvornan shrugged. Emilia looked back down at her sewing.
"Antoine's just the opposite. He don't take to no one at first but don't think that he's cold, 'cause he ain't. He just needs a little while to get used to you." Emilia bit down on her thread and yanked, severing it from the needle. Kvornan watched her with interest. She was beautiful and reassuringly maternal. Any hesitation that he might have had about holding a conversation with her had dissolved.
"And what about you? What are you like?" he asked. Emilia smiled, her brow lowered in a way that made her look quite cunning.
"Me? I do their mending. Stick around long enough and I'll be doing yours too."
The sound of children at play slipped into the house through the aging windows. Their laughter colored Kvornan's early morning dreams, igniting long-buried memories. He saw Jennail running through the palace orchards, little more than a girl, flushed and glowing. Her dark hair battered her face as she smiled, all crooked teeth and piercing eyes. He had been so in love with her once. It was easy for him to forget those feelings during the last years of her life but recently the memories were becoming more vivid, more potent.
Kvornan pressed his fingers into his tear ducts. He regretted that Alexei left early for his bakery job. Without Alexei blathering away, Kvornan was left to the mercy his imagination. Eventually, he detangled himself from the comforter and forced his body out of bed, seeking a source of distraction.
The grandfather clock in the corridor chimed the hour as Kvornan descended the staircase. Dinner was roasting in the kitchen, filling the house with the scents of rosemary and citrus. In the parlor, Emilia sat softly humming to herself. Kvornan could not remember when he had last been in a place that was so comforting as this. Perhaps he never had.
The Garrisons were a tightly knit, rather private family and Kvornan was under the impression that Alexei had done something unprecedented in allowing an outsider into their home. Emilia had been instantly welcoming but not in the merry way that a person might normally welcome company. It was more defeatist than that. She seemed to think that Kvornan was an obligation that she couldn't shake. When Alexei first introduced him, Emilia shrugged her shoulders as if to say, What's another one? and instructed them to wash up for dinner.
Antoine made himself scarce. This suited Kvornan well enough since he had long since fallen out of the habit of communicating with people. Alexei, on the other hand, rarely left Kvornan's side. He was a motormouth and could be rather pestilential at times but Kvornan was grateful for him.
At the bottom of the steps, Kvornan placed his hands on his lower back and arched his shoulders, stretching. It had been over a year since he had last slept on a mattress and the Garrisons had insisted that he migrate from the livingroom to the fold-out bed in Alexei's room. In the time that it took for Kvornan to stretch, Emilia stopped humming. Kvornan froze where he stood.
"Why don't you come in for a sec and keep an old lady company? It's dull as tombs around here." Kvornan approached the sitting room slowly, apprehensively. With each step, he wondered how long it had been since he had been alone in a room with a woman. Perhaps years.
Emilia sat on a worn and tattered sofa, surrounded by blankets and shirts, sewing needle in hand. Kvornan paused in the doorway, clutching the wall.
"I don't want to interrupt," he said.
"Interrupt what? I'm just doing the mending. Did Alec go out?" Kvornan took the seat adjacent to Emilia, nearest to the door.
"He did, I think. Early." Emilia clicked her tongue disapprovingly.
"Boy runs around like a ferret in a minefield. He don't know where he's going but he's headed there fast and sooner or later, the ground's gonna blow up right from under him. You settling in okay?" Kvornan blinked, unsure of how to respond. He had not considered 'settling in'. Being here was only a temporary condition.
"I am. Thank you. I apologize for having been dumped in your lap, so to speak. I know that you and Antoine were not expecting me." Emilia waved dismissively.
"We was surprised is all. Our Alec doesn't normally take to folks. I mean, he takes to everyone soon as he meets 'em but then he goes off 'em just as quick. Must really like you." Kvornan shrugged. Emilia looked back down at her sewing.
"Antoine's just the opposite. He don't take to no one at first but don't think that he's cold, 'cause he ain't. He just needs a little while to get used to you." Emilia bit down on her thread and yanked, severing it from the needle. Kvornan watched her with interest. She was beautiful and reassuringly maternal. Any hesitation that he might have had about holding a conversation with her had dissolved.
"And what about you? What are you like?" he asked. Emilia smiled, her brow lowered in a way that made her look quite cunning.
"Me? I do their mending. Stick around long enough and I'll be doing yours too."
One
January 03, 2051- 388 Auxiliary Rd.; Millhaven, Pleasantview
Alexei braced his defenses for the coming onslaught. If he were honest with himself, he would note that he had been washing the same dish for the past twenty minutes, running his pruned fingers over the beveled edge and listening for the door. In eighty years he had never made a decision by himself that affected all three of them. And while he knew that he was doing the right thing, he still felt guilty. Very much so. The dish in his hands was getting no cleaner but he continued to rub.
When the door finally opened, he did not turn. To turn would be to acknowledge that he knew what was coming and that he was not quite prepared. Antoine swept into the kitchen, an angry blur of black and beige in the corner of Alexei’s eye.
“Incidentally, what is Kvornan Tricou doing on our couch?” Antoine’s whisper was nearly drowned out by the sound of the sink draining as Alexei pulled the plug.
“Sleeping, last I checked.” Alexei opened the cabinet below the sink and stowed the dish there, forgetting that dishes did not belong beneath the sink.
“You brought him back here?” Alexei dried his hands on his sweater and turned to face his brother. Antoine was seething in a way that he rarely did. Ordinarily, this would be proof positive that Alexei had overstepped a boundary but these were extraordinary circumstances. Today, his brother would just have to forgive him.
“What else was I supposed to do? The faes can’t seem to keep him bunged up in a little fishbowl like they said they would. He’s been running around for years taking victims and not sweeping up his footprints. The way he operates puts us all in danger. As long as no one teaches him any better, he’s just going to keep running around and pulling the same sloppy shit. If he were any other vampire, he would have been compromised ages ago. And I know what you’re going to say but he’s completely harmless, even a bit vegetative most of the time. I don’t know what he’s seen or done or whatever but—“
“He’s homicidal, Alec.” Alexei’s hands, which had been dancing in a complicated series of gestures, fell to his sides. Antoine’s tone had been gentle, bringing to light the fact that he understood Alexei’s reasons both spoken and unspoken. Alexei squeezed his eyes shut to stop himself from grimacing.
“Well, we wouldn’t have many allies amongst our kind if we started making those sorts of distinctions,” he said. Antoine frowned.
“Emilia is coming home today.”
“I know it.”
“You want that monster to stay in the same house where your sister sleeps?” Alexei bit his lip and looked to the floor while his stomach clenched. He leaned against the counter, fighting back thoughts that blossomed formlessly, more emotion than reason. His sense of conviction told him that what he had set into motion would not be undone. But the off-chance that he might be putting his family in danger was unsettling in the extreme.
“No one knows for certain what happened that night,” he said softly.
“You said yourself just now that he’s damaged. Something must have happened to make him that way. Do you really want to risk it?”
“He lost his son, Antoine.”
“That was fifty years ago. More than fifty.”
“Emilia still paces the floor at night over Sean after seventy years and she had us to help her get by. He has no one. It is unfair to suggest that he should be over his loss by now and that if he is still suffering then it must be because he killed those people.” Antoine was unmoved. He folded his arms over his chest. “Two weeks,” Alexei said. “That’s all I ask. After that, I’ll release him back into the wild.” Antoine’s eyebrows rose.
“He’s the Sheut, Alec. This isn’t like that orphaned raccoon you thought would make a decent house pet.” Alexei smiled uneasily.
“Maybe not but I was right then, wasn’t I? You liked Bandit. You let her sleep in your shoes.” Antoine pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly having reached the summit of his patience. Alexei stepped forward and placed his hand on Antoine’s shoulder. “He can’t just be allowed to go around hurting people,” Alexei pressed. Antoine lowered his hand and peered straight through his brother. He spoke slowly, placing a hard emphasis on each word.
“I agree with you one hundred percent but wouldn’t this be a project more suited to Cade or Nephtys?” Alexei snorted derisively.
“We stay in Cade’s good graces because we don’t go running to him with every little thing.”
Alexei braced his defenses for the coming onslaught. If he were honest with himself, he would note that he had been washing the same dish for the past twenty minutes, running his pruned fingers over the beveled edge and listening for the door. In eighty years he had never made a decision by himself that affected all three of them. And while he knew that he was doing the right thing, he still felt guilty. Very much so. The dish in his hands was getting no cleaner but he continued to rub.
When the door finally opened, he did not turn. To turn would be to acknowledge that he knew what was coming and that he was not quite prepared. Antoine swept into the kitchen, an angry blur of black and beige in the corner of Alexei’s eye.
“Incidentally, what is Kvornan Tricou doing on our couch?” Antoine’s whisper was nearly drowned out by the sound of the sink draining as Alexei pulled the plug.
“Sleeping, last I checked.” Alexei opened the cabinet below the sink and stowed the dish there, forgetting that dishes did not belong beneath the sink.
“You brought him back here?” Alexei dried his hands on his sweater and turned to face his brother. Antoine was seething in a way that he rarely did. Ordinarily, this would be proof positive that Alexei had overstepped a boundary but these were extraordinary circumstances. Today, his brother would just have to forgive him.
“What else was I supposed to do? The faes can’t seem to keep him bunged up in a little fishbowl like they said they would. He’s been running around for years taking victims and not sweeping up his footprints. The way he operates puts us all in danger. As long as no one teaches him any better, he’s just going to keep running around and pulling the same sloppy shit. If he were any other vampire, he would have been compromised ages ago. And I know what you’re going to say but he’s completely harmless, even a bit vegetative most of the time. I don’t know what he’s seen or done or whatever but—“
“He’s homicidal, Alec.” Alexei’s hands, which had been dancing in a complicated series of gestures, fell to his sides. Antoine’s tone had been gentle, bringing to light the fact that he understood Alexei’s reasons both spoken and unspoken. Alexei squeezed his eyes shut to stop himself from grimacing.
“Well, we wouldn’t have many allies amongst our kind if we started making those sorts of distinctions,” he said. Antoine frowned.
“Emilia is coming home today.”
“I know it.”
“You want that monster to stay in the same house where your sister sleeps?” Alexei bit his lip and looked to the floor while his stomach clenched. He leaned against the counter, fighting back thoughts that blossomed formlessly, more emotion than reason. His sense of conviction told him that what he had set into motion would not be undone. But the off-chance that he might be putting his family in danger was unsettling in the extreme.
“No one knows for certain what happened that night,” he said softly.
“You said yourself just now that he’s damaged. Something must have happened to make him that way. Do you really want to risk it?”
“He lost his son, Antoine.”
“That was fifty years ago. More than fifty.”
“Emilia still paces the floor at night over Sean after seventy years and she had us to help her get by. He has no one. It is unfair to suggest that he should be over his loss by now and that if he is still suffering then it must be because he killed those people.” Antoine was unmoved. He folded his arms over his chest. “Two weeks,” Alexei said. “That’s all I ask. After that, I’ll release him back into the wild.” Antoine’s eyebrows rose.
“He’s the Sheut, Alec. This isn’t like that orphaned raccoon you thought would make a decent house pet.” Alexei smiled uneasily.
“Maybe not but I was right then, wasn’t I? You liked Bandit. You let her sleep in your shoes.” Antoine pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly having reached the summit of his patience. Alexei stepped forward and placed his hand on Antoine’s shoulder. “He can’t just be allowed to go around hurting people,” Alexei pressed. Antoine lowered his hand and peered straight through his brother. He spoke slowly, placing a hard emphasis on each word.
“I agree with you one hundred percent but wouldn’t this be a project more suited to Cade or Nephtys?” Alexei snorted derisively.
“We stay in Cade’s good graces because we don’t go running to him with every little thing.”
“You call this a little thing?”
“Two weeks. That’s all I need.”
“And if Emilia says no?” Alexei moistened his lips, attempting to hide the smile that threatened to break through. Asking what would happen if Emilia said no was as good as consent.
“Ten simoleons says that she’ll call him her poor little angel within fifteen minutes of meeting him,” Alexei joked. Antoine soured further. “I’ve known him for weeks now. I trust him.”
“It isn’t a matter of trust. He's not a person. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“Whatever he is, he needs help and I want to help him.” Antoine winced painfully, sympathetically. He braced the back of Alexei’s head, pulling him into a hug.
“The only reason why I’m saying yes to this is because I know that you can’t be dissuaded. If he left, you would go with him and I would rather be present to catch you when you fall.” Alexei pulled away.
“It’s going to be fine, Antoine. In fact, it’s going to be more than fine.” Alexei patted Antoine’s cheek playfully. “You may even let him sleep in your shoes before the end."
“Two weeks. That’s all I need.”
“And if Emilia says no?” Alexei moistened his lips, attempting to hide the smile that threatened to break through. Asking what would happen if Emilia said no was as good as consent.
“Ten simoleons says that she’ll call him her poor little angel within fifteen minutes of meeting him,” Alexei joked. Antoine soured further. “I’ve known him for weeks now. I trust him.”
“It isn’t a matter of trust. He's not a person. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“Whatever he is, he needs help and I want to help him.” Antoine winced painfully, sympathetically. He braced the back of Alexei’s head, pulling him into a hug.
“The only reason why I’m saying yes to this is because I know that you can’t be dissuaded. If he left, you would go with him and I would rather be present to catch you when you fall.” Alexei pulled away.
“It’s going to be fine, Antoine. In fact, it’s going to be more than fine.” Alexei patted Antoine’s cheek playfully. “You may even let him sleep in your shoes before the end."
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