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bakerstreet2018-10-25 08:49 pm
madreen_rua) wrote in bakerstreet2018-10-25 08:49 pm
Entry tags:
Having a Cat's Meow of a time in the 1920s
Sentence Starter Meme
Use any of the sentences below as inspiration to start your thread.
• Leave a comment with your character name, and canon
• Whether you want to write a starter or simply list preferences is up to you
• Others tag in - rinse, repeat
- “As far as reading material goes, the ledger is too depressing. I’ve decided to read the obituaries instead.”
- “Oh! Customers! I didn’t realize we actually served anyone here. Hello.”
- “How is your lunch? Are you enjoying your lunch? Or would you say it’s more of an early dinner?”
- “No, no! You misunderstand! Despite appearances, _______, today has been a, uh, unequivocal success. I just… need to find the car.”
- “How can I help when you are so much like, eh… spaghetti noodle?”
- “I don’t know why you’re so bent on enforcing the law lawfully anyway. You could always take up vigilantism.”
- “Always be prepared to improvise, ______. That’s rule number one for jazz players and vigilantes alike.”
- “Well what did you do today that got you in such a ferocious mood for pancakes, anyway?”
- “Do you mind if I sit here? Because you must be the cutest thing this side of the _______!”
- “What is it makes you think I exist to do your laundry?”
- “Well, undeniably, it takes some gumption to involve yourself in a business like this, but risk and reward go hand-in-hand, don’t they?”
- “Hello _______. So glad you could join us. How’ve you been? How are ya? What’s the rumpus?”
- “Try not to horrify the guests, ______.”
- “Well, this’ll either loosen them up or kill them. Worst case, I’ll just have to rummage through their pockets.”
- “Pardon me. I just stopped by to inform you that we’re all going to die.”
- “Well, you managed to ruin that opportunity and the last vestiges of our reputation in one fell swoop. Impressive, ______.”
- “YOU’RE NOT HOLDING IT RIGHT!”
- “Hey! You have money!”
- “Where do you think you’re going? I told you to stay here. Don’t pretend you can’t hear me.”
- “I don’t want to have to leave again, _______! I like it here! They tolerate me!”
- “Raiding the pantry? If you’re that hungry, I could make you something.”
- “Okay… right. I’m catching on. The fewer questions, the better.”
Source: Lackadaisy Cats - Tracy Butler
The prompts can change with reposts of this meme, and feel free to PM me ideas you want to see. Based off the Bulwer-Lytton contest.
Other prompts listed in comments
Ezera | OC | OTA
Late to the party but mind if I cut in?
Eeeeeeee! So excited!
"Dr. Deyncourt! Oh my goodness, how wonderful to see you!" He's lucky that she does not hug him, she wants to and has horrible hug-impulse control. She did lean forward but then remembered herself and tipped back. Professional boundaries, check.
"Haha, nope. Still alive and kicking! But how are you? It's been forever."
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"I do apologize for that. An old and dear friend of mine got into a spot of trouble and needed some assistance. I couldn't very well say no, but that did mean taking time off from my patients. Fortunately, though, that's all taken care of now. How have you been holding up while I've been gone?"
no subject
She makes room for him by moving the pot and saucer to the side.
"Fort Ezera is holding up well." All things considered. "We took a few hits here and there, but thanks to you and the tools that you taught me, I feel a lot better about some of the things we talked about. How about you? Have you had the opportunity to rest and take some time for yourself after you helped your friend?"
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"All things considered, I feel great, I think. Never better." Come on, Jack. We're going to California with a tommy gun in the trunk. There's no room for liars and stowaways here. The tide is out and we're all getting wet. We're gonna be flying down the freeway across the ocean. All screaming from below and bright smiles above. Who's Andre? Ask her about Matthew. Matthew is someone. Edmund frowns into his tea. The voice teases at him, whispers in his ear like a lover. When he attempts to ignore it, it slides cold fingers up his back and bites at his ears. The tide is out, at its lowest point, in fact, but to ignore this would be foolish. This was something important. He mutters softly under his breath, rubbing at his ears, "No demons in the house, Jack, you know the rules."
Brightly, he continues to Ezera, "Honestly, though, I haven't had much in the way of rest at home. One of Alex's employees found a puppy for me, you see. A...what did he call it? A Leonberger, I believe. I lost my German Shepherd a while back, you see. Bear, I think, will be a good companion, when I can train him not to chew on my shoes." He shoots Ezera a grin.
"How about you? Have you been able to relax since I've been gone?"
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"Good. It's just that sometimes when you're taking care of others it's easy to forget about your own needs. And since you're always taking care of others, I imagine it's easy to lose your balance, if such a thing even exists."
Something inside tugged at her like a small child tugs at the hem of its mother's skirt when it wants attention. She ignored it. Billie Holiday was playing in the cafe and Ezera slightly swayed her head in time with the words even as her attention was focused on the pleasant conversation.
"A puppy!," she exclaimed with happiness. Dogs are her thing. Loves them. Would save them all. Used to once. With Oni. They broke into a drug dealer's backyard and took the dog he was using for as a fighting dog. Oh, Oni. She missed her so much. "Yes, they're adorable and loyal, and super fluffy. Such great companions. Ooo, and they love to cuddle. Oh, my God, I love them so much." Considering how emphatic she was, she meant dogs, not just Leonberger's.
"Bear. Yes, that will definitely be fitting. Awww, congratulations. I considered getting a dog once." Yeah, but I'm pretty sure someone would kill it to fuck with my head, so...nope. "You'll take a picture to show me next time, yes?" She nods back with an amused smile. "I wouldn't be buying Gucci for a while, that's for sure."
"Relax? Me? I'm not sure that was ever my goal." She says with a pressed smile and a soft shrug. "I've been busy," she explains, "work. But that's alright," she adds before he can say that she shouldn't use work as an excuse to not deal with her...well, whatever the good doctor felt that she wasn't dealing with, "it's been," insert lame word here, "productive."
no subject
He smiles at her warmly. "You know, speaking of relaxing, I do have a home office that I work out of sometimes. I see patients there who are too nervous to meet me in the hospital. So if you want to see Bear in person, we could hold your next appointment at my home office instead." His smile grows more cold, harder, more bared teeth than anything. He'd heard that voice in his head, the one that sounded like hers. Yeah, but I'm pretty sure someone would kill it to fuck with my head, so...nope. "Now, if you don't mind me asking, who's been threatening you and your loved ones so badly you're afraid to get a pet that would obviously make you happy?"
no subject
Holy fuck. What?!
Ezera swallowed the tea slowly, too slowly, the ball of fire burning the thin lining of her throat as her body slowed so that her brain could process things faster. Maybe…maybe in her despair and depression after everything that had happened with Frank and her father, maybe she mentioned him to the doctor? Every fiber of her body was ripping itself to shreds, tearing at the chance to tell her that she didn't. No, she wouldn't. Not willingly at least. Sweet Jesus, even if that had been the case, she hadn't even known Matthew when she was had her last session with Doctor Deyncourt.
Her purse felt heavy on her lap, less like a weighted blanket was on it and more like an anvil. Flip the table on him, run. Spit hot tea in his face, fight. Reach for the handgun in her purse, shit.
There was only one rational explanation, right? She gently put her dainty teacup down. The good doctor was working with her enemies for some reason, supplying them with information or spying on her. Or both. It wasn't something she'd put past Emcee or her half-brother. But then why was he still talking like nothing happened? Why was he smiling and inviting her over to meet Bear? Did he not realize that he just slipped up by mentioning people she never told him about?
"What?" She said in a breathy whisper starting to feel like a Youtube compilation of the Doctor. What? What?! What the ever loving fuck was going on now? Her eyes narrowed into slits as she considered the possibilities. "How," she began with mistrust, "I didn't…I didn't say that," Ezera no!, "out loud."
Wait, was he a mutant? Possibly. A mutant with the ability to get into her head and read her thoughts. That, was NOT good.
"That's not very nice, you know," she said bitterly. "My headspace, my thoughts. If I want to share, I will. Now I have a question for you, doctor. What the hell gives?"
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He isn't here to hunt. He takes a breath and the switch flips again, slower this time. Warmth fills those eyes again. "I apologize. Most of the time Doctor Craft covers for me when I'm feeling a bit off, but sometimes it surprises me."
no subject
The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain, the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain, the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain! Lalalala...
Remember the day when 'having a problem' meant that you couldn't reach your cable company to complain about the shitty image quality on your television? Yeah, those were the days.
With intention, she took a slow breath to fight the desire to put as much distance between him and her as she could.
"What surprises you?"
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Edmund closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose as he takes a deep breath. He is still expending his power on the heightened senses that are just teasing his hunger. Oh. Oops. He folds that particular power away and says softly, "None of that, Jack." More normally, he says to Ezera, "Let's say insight isn't always easy and it doesn't always come in a way that's understandable. I've been in the seat that some of my patients are in, wondering if they're going crazy. I like to help them become who they're meant to be."
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"You and Jack might want to stop peeking into my thoughts."
Yes, she's scared. Scared of him and what he and, er, Jack, would find in there. She's also so damn angry inside that she could nearly feel the pressure pop in her ears. It's why she's angry that hasn't caught up to her yet.
Don't have heroes, Iz. They'll only disappoint you, he said.
"What do you and Jack think you know about me?" The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain, the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain, and who have you told?, the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain, the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain, the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain...
"Meant to be? What, what does that even mean? You know what, table that for now," she says while holding up her hands. " Are you psychic? You can read minds? What, one of the high-powered people? And who the hell is Jack??"
Hey, she thinks to herself, maybe he's schizophrenic and I'm being a douche. Yea, no. Still doesn't explain how he knows that much.
She's nearly arm flailing now while asking that, growing more agitated as the sinking feeling that someone knew her secret seeps into her skin.
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He looks away and rubs at his forehead. He visibly takes a deep breath in an effort to wrench himself away from thoughts of her terror and her blood. He whispers quietly, "I just want a taste. Jacky's back and he hates the taste of hospital food." A curse, louder. Edmund doesn't look at her, but his tone is more normal as he continues, "I'm afraid if you're expecting Superman, I'll have to disappoint you, Ezera. I have flashes of insight, sometimes, but it's not without problems. As you can probably guess. Most of the time I feel up to seeing patients, but sometimes, as in the last few months, I needed to take a break for my own mental health. And for the health of others." Silently, in her head, a cold voice that both is and isn't Edmund's says, Who is Jack? Jack is dangerous, Izzy. Jack is Whitechapel screaming broken pigeon wings against a blood-red sky. Blood. Blood and intestines like garland.
Don't have heroes, Iz. They'll only disappoint you. That makes Edmund growl softly. He's going to lose the fight with himself at this rate, but he can't bring himself to care. He stares at her with cold, predator's eyes but his tone is still normal. "I don't work with anyone, Ezera. I don't tell anyone what I find out about my patients. I only want to help."
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"Broken mirrors don't reflect things properly. The images are distorted," she says more to keep him talking. Not superman. Not powered, then? Not a mutant. Ok. Who else reads minds? Think. What is he whispering, she wondered, straining to catch the words and not being able to.
"That's some insight." She half-mumbles. "Can't you control it?" If she remembered being "tortured" by Malkavians, she'd also remember the answer to that question. "Or is having to control...Jack?...what's exhausting and why you need 'breaks'?"
The voice in her head though is absolutely crossing a line. It's a different type of violation. It rubs against what she doesn't remember but her body does, the previous violation of her mind by his clan.
Against her better judgement and every fiber in her body that wants to react badly, she reached across the table, across to the predatory glance, to the internal struggle that she was witnessing and covered his hand with her own, she gives his a soft squeeze.
"No," her tone is empathetic despite her nervousness, but the word comes out firm and her eyes, despite the uncertainty in them, are steadily on his.
Forget the fact that he made a Jack the Ripper reference for a moment. 'Cause that's comforting, she thinks dryly. Forget the fact that he just mentioned intestines and garland like...like....god, she didn't want to see that in her head again.
"No." She repeats. "Don't. Please, that's not going to help me or your other clients at all."
no subject
In something approximating his normal tone, he says softly, "I do apologize, Ezera. That was...uncalled for. Not something I am at all keen to show to patients. Normally I feel an attack like that coming on, but...after all these years, they still surprise me sometimes. Are you alright? I didn't frighten you too badly, did I?"
We'll flay her skin and wear her bones to the Harvest Dance. Jacky likes the smell of this one, all butchered innocence and brothel smoke. Edmund scowls at the whisper in his ear. Just in his ear, or hers too? He isn't sure, not right now. He takes another deep breath and says softly, yet again, "No demons in the house, Jack."
"In answer to your question, Ezera, the...insight I have. I can't control it. It isn't telepathy. For a while I mistook it for schizophrenia, and it sometimes is. No substance, no truth, just random noise. But sometimes there is something of use in the...background static, as it were. The trick is figuring out what's useful and what isn't. And also learning to read myself enough to know when to hand things over to Doctor Craft and see to my own health, until the tide goes out again."
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"Yeah, I'm fine." She grunts under her breath and huffs in response, "Um, you actually scare the piss outta me, but I'm still here soooo, don't know what that says about me." That I'm a fucking idiot, that's what. But whatever he was, he talked her off the bridge once basically, so whatever this was, she owed him one. Besides, she wasn't an asshole. Entirely. She wasn't entirely an asshole.
Apparently, her self-preservation skills needed a bit of work though, but with some luck, she'd learn to balance that soon before someone like him...or him, decided to listen to Jack.
Not a fan of Jack.
Seriously, what is it with her and terrifyingly, violent, men? This is some moth to the flame, epic bullshit. She doesn't even need a therapist to see that. And it's not even that she was drawn to them, somehow she just found them.
C'mon!, she scolds herself. Why are you still here? Oh, she's not happy about this, of course.
Um, no, Jack. We'll do no such thing. She replies mentally, curious, even though there's a tiny smile as she looks at Edmund. Bolstering one monster to suppress another? Who the fuck even knows what she's doing, she doesn't.
"And, I mean, are you dangerous? Sorry, but your little friend? Sounds murderous." Hey, might as well go for gold. "And if that's true, why can I hear...some of the thoughts? They're sure as hell, not mine. I get pissed and can think some seriously effed up things, but I don't usually think of flaying people," she presses her lips together in momentary consideration, "well, for the most part."
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Then, as if to counter all his effort to appear fine, a voice that isn't quite Edmund's says out loud, "Jack will hunt and Jack will feed. He's been doing it a very long time. Which little morsel I'll take home is a mystery, but I think you smell too much of virtue for old Jack. Perhaps if Alex wants to join us, he does like his meals a little more rich."
Then, Edmund again, sounding tired and a little cross, "That's quite enough, Jack." He pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply, then continues, "I...will admit some impulses are less self-destructive than is typical of schizophrenia. But I'm quite used to dealing with it. I have been for a very long time." And oh. OH. He's been projecting more than he realized. He actually does blush and duck his head when he realizes that yes, he is using that power unconsciously. "I...did have something to do with the voice you were hearing, yes. It's frightfully rude, and I didn't realize I was projecting. I apologize."
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She skips over the whole 'good person' bit because, reasons, but considers that he might be right, switching doctors would be the smart thing to do. Ezera smiles weakly at the joke. "We'll see," sounds like the best answer. "I don't have much time for therapy right now anyway."
Ok. Hello, Jack. It definitely sounded like schizophrenia for the little that she knew about it, honestly. Her invisible porcupine-like quills softened a bit more despite the super disturbing words.
Meals. Jack. Hunting. Huh. Virtue? Ha. Ooookur. "Who is Alex, Doctor D?" She gives him time to gather his thoughts. Actually, she reaches out to do something mundane and pour them some tea. Tipping the pot is fine, but she uses two hands to mask the fact that with one, she's shaking a little bit.
Because, no matter what he says, there's something either supernatural or mutant-fueled about some of this and...well, in some ways, that was scarier than the demons you knew - gangs and gangsters.
"Sounds exhausting."
Okay. Admission. That's a step in the right direction. Except, a little voice, her own, asks, do you really want to know?
"It's ok. I know people that can do that. But it's not pleasant. For some of us, our private thoughts are basically the only freedom we really have, so..."
The rest of the message was clear.
"So, is there anything that I can do to help you feel more...grounded, right now?"
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"And...I'm fine, truly. I feel more clear-headed than I have in a while. I was just caught off-guard, is all." He looks at her curiously. "You've met others with gifts like mine? Now I'm curious."
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But, yes!, she thinks. Let's talk about romance and love, and...wait, Daniel?
Alessandro. Daniel. Daniel, Alessandro. Ezera groans inwardly. So not a coincidence.
She laughs amicably even though she's obviously not pleased that these three know one another and Alessandro and Doctor D are intimately engaged. How far does client-patient privilege extend then, especially with the good doctor's insights into her business?
Christ. Honestly.
"Haha, yeah, three cheers for silver linings," she says her voice flat like a line on a heart monitor. It's not that she's upset exactly, but she's mulling over how ridiculously well life sometimes gets one over her. It's like God actually rolled up his sleeves for this one and exclaimed, "this will be my best joke yet!"
Oh, man. Ooooooh. She groans as if she has a stomach ache while pinching the bridge of her nose for a second. Realization dawned on her like the sun on an otherwise tired idiom.
"Darkness. Shadows. Not human. Shit, him too? Really? It's possible, I guess."
Yes, she is having a conversation with herself. The result is very much, "fuck my life".
"Good, good," she starts, looking slightly worn and vexed. It's not that knowledge of other human-types or non-humans bothers here, but it does when it mixes with her business interests. Well, although that was still a big 'undetermined'.
"Well, not exactly like yours." It's hilarious that she would choose to be vague with the details in order to protect him with the sometimes earth-shattering realization that there were others out there that were more human than human or not at all. "I've met folks who have some telepathic ability."
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"Not only that, but the hospital and my patients are mine." There's a gleam of possessive pride in those eyes. It turns cold and nasty in a moment later, almost as cold as Jack's voice a while back, as he says, "What I'm trying to say is, if Alex or Danny have hurt you in any way, you can tell me. And if I need to, I'll remind them they're not to fuck with what's mine." There's an unspoken threat in that statement, that much is obvious in Edmund's clenched jaw, his teeth not quite visible enough to confirm whether he has fangs, his eyes like shards of ice.
Edmund sips at his tea and sits back in his chair, taking a moment to settle himself again. No need to scare Ezera, after all. He sets aside the problem with the violence around her for a second to focus on the other interesting puzzle. How much does she know about the Masquerade? Hmm. He says carefully, "I've met such people, as well. None of them quite like me. Some....learned their gifts through hours and hours of study. Others were born with innate talent."
no subject
Pride stretched her spine to the sky. She wasn't sorry for who she was now. She wasn't exactly different. She was evolving into herself - a woman scorned, perhaps, but not letting violence against women, what her father started, stand. Use the word 'vigilante' and she will cut you. That wasn't what was happening, at least that what she thinks. She still believes that it takes a village to make a change, it was just going to require someone to start the fire. At her core, she was no different, an activist…just really active. Of course at her core, she never thought she'd order the deaths of men.
She closes her eyes and sighs tiredly. It's not a verbal admission, but it's probably enough.
It's with her eyes closed that she continues to listen to him, following the flow of his voice.
What are the shadows? She wonders. The unspoken question has been on her mind since seeing Daniel and being reminded of the day of her father's funeral. Everything's cold around them. Unsettled. She shook her head, she didn't want to think about it.
My patients are mine. There's an uncomfortable sickness settling in her stomach, swirling the contents into a soup of conflicted sludge at that statement. Her eyes press themselves closed harder. She was disgusted. Not because that possessiveness roiled her stomach, but because it didn't. It was something to be careful about. You can know what your weaknesses' are and still fall face first into them. Was he intentionally poking at hers? Ezera opened her eyes and met his.
"No, no. Nothing like that at all," she insisted with a firm shake of her head. "I have never met Alessandro and I only met Daniel once, well, twice, and he's been nothing but insightful." The hairs on her arm rose though because the invisible shadow always came to mind with the feeling of unsettling cold. "He came to my father's funeral," not to support her of course, but now it meant something that he did. Maybe there was a touch of the "mafioso's daughter" about her, people showing respect to her fallen patriarch, as flawed as he was, even as superficial as it might have been, meant something to her.
"Mmm, is that right?" She says vaguely, carefully, feeling something whisper caution into her ear. The question is on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn't ask. She doesn't ask, 'what are you?' There are lines best not crossed. It's not something anyone has said, but somehow intrinsically she knows that the answer would be problematic no matter what she already suspects. Suspecting something is not like confirming the thing.
"Well, yes, some are even hunted and branded as terrorists by the government for these innate abilities. She presses her lips together, satisfied with manoeuvring the conversation to shallower waters and trying not to betray the secret railroad of trafficked mutants she supports. "It's not the best political climate."
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He gave a soft chuckle. "Funny. I always expected when I studied medicine, I'd continue to heal the body. Then things changed along the way. Plague. A bit of upheaval for me. Alex has been a friend for most of my life, you know. Never more than that. As I said, he can be a bit boring at times. And pride has always been his weakness. Danny is nothing if not his protege." He leans forward and whispers conspiratorially. "I'm not saying this as your doctor, but as someone in their...community who holds a fair bit of power. Sometimes I think it's easier to have out with it than to dance around all night."
He moves his teacup so that the light in the shop casts a dark shadow on the table. He pricks his tongue with a fang, and the blood that wells up turns to Shadow. It accumulates in the shadow on the table. Edmund holds a hand out to it, to the feeling of cold, of evil, and it forms a tentacle-like protrusion. "They do like their tricks. A bit too blatant for my tastes. Too...cold." In an imitation of Alessandro's accent, Edmund adds, "You're too soft, Edmund!" He waves a hand, and the Shadow dissipates. Edmund pours them more tea and wraps his hands back around his teacup to warm them. "A load of rubbish, I say. It's one thing to no longer be human. Another to court the Abyss. I don't like the feel of it. It feels like something watching me, waiting to devour me. Some days I don't feel like dealing with it, I meet Alex in a well lit room. Usually that does the trick." He winks at her.
"Oh, I should think it's obvious, but I'm not a terrorist. Or hunted by the government. Or thought about much by the government at all. Just in case you're wondering. I've heard of some mortals who are. I'm not one of them."
no subject
Vampires. It's definitely vampires. The fabric of different images unravelled itself in her mind, weaving into a tapestry of truth - that moment Daniel had smiled at her and it she quietly noticed the slightly too pointed front teeth. Her mind had said that it had been a trick of the restaurant lighting, but the gentle red spots on Edmund's napkin and that Cole had suggested that they potentially could be vampires brought disparate things together. The mind wants to resist. It rationalizes, it protects, it...has trouble doing that when it's already accepted the reality of shifters, mutants, witches and other incredible things that lived in the folds of the imagination. When he carries on so conversationally, she wonders if she hadn't actually gone crazy. That's when she realized with a light-headed feeling that he can afford to carry on conversationally because, if needs be, he could kill her and just be done with it. He'd probably call that an appetizer.
Awesome. Sarcasm is life.
But, wait, what's fact and what's fiction? She had so many questions.
Mutely, she listened to him, to the words that placed him in impossible times - 18th century, plague. Another part of her is equally fascinated and she sits on blurting out questions about the 1920s by biting on her bottom lip.
Another part of her felt ill with the confirmation. Vampires are real. But what does that mean?
She's going to start running out of compartments in her mind soon.
"I've never met a vampire before", she remembered the wards that Cole and her witch friend had provided her with for her club and how they changed color when there was a supernatural presence in the club, "that I know of…"
And look at this player going on as if he didn't just suggest that the world was actually flat.
She laughed under her a breath, quietly. This situation was absolutely absurd. Here she was, having tea with a vampire. Vampires drink tea. Green tea. Green-Jasmine tea. Are we feeling all caught up yet? Great.
And what the ever-loving fuck does he think he's doing now? Her eyes grow wider as she looks and listens, like an enthralled child during Show and Tell. She can't help slightly shifting back and away from the shadow. It feels oppressive, even as contained and small as it is. Could it be that she felt more sensitive to it having so much light and life run through her? Still, watching the good doctor slightly trivialize the shadow (did he say, the Abyss? "Wait, wait, wait…stop. What's the Abyss now?" But she didn't want to interrupt) makes it seem a little less daunting. A little. Ezera smiles lightly at his well-meaning advice, meant for her. It's a short-lived smile as her brows furrow together in thought.
He's stopped talking now. She should say something. Her tea sits there, the steam rolling off of it. She's cold. Really cold. She clears her throat, but it feels constricted. Oddly enough, she's not scared, right now. Numb? A bit.
Her eyes assess him, cautiously contemplating the obvious question. "Why," she begins in a raw whisper. Clearing her throat again, she asks, "why are you telling me all of this?"
There's only ever one reason that she knew why someone who had secrets to keep would ever take off the mask, hood or disguise. In her experience, it was because they didn't expect that you'd walk out of the room alive.
no subject
He takes a sip of tea before he speaks. "Why? Because I like you, Ezera, and you're mixed up in some violence that's in Alex's sphere more than mine. And in that case, you're likely to encounter and perhaps butt heads with others of us, if not Alex and Danny themselves. I'd like you to be prepared. Forewarned is forearmed, after all."
He pauses. The deer is about to bolt, Jack. Throw on the reins and batten down the hatches. Find a candle and ride the wave until morning. Edmund frowns and he peers closer at her. "I apologize, it's been a while since I've had to do this for anyone who didn't already have some prior knowledge of what was going on. Are you quite alright? Should we adjourn somewhere more private for you to relax?"
no subject
A sharp pain starts to bloom behind her eyes-lack of sleep, lack of food, loads of stress and now, this confirmation. She's got a headache. Weirdly though, she feels calmer, more still with the information that she's processing.
"Do you think that I have something to worry about from Alessandro and Daniel that I'm not thinking of," she asks since he brought them up.
The teacup warmed her hands, but she wanted to dive into a warm bath or under several covers. It takes a while for her to answer his question because she takes the time to assess it with honesty. She wants to know herself if she's alright.
"I'm fine." Classic answer when the answer is, what else is there to be? Not fine, isn't an option.
"It's not the fact that va-", she glances around, why should anyone else have their comfortable reality shattered?, "your kind exist. Obviously, you've all existed for a long time, so clearly, world domination is not necessarily on the agenda, am I right? Exhausting your food supply would be dumb, so humanity will keep churning. Any obvious moves to the former and someone would notice. So whatever means you all collective survive by doesn't directly threaten humanity. Ok, then. I can be cool with that." Sure, she was generalizing but, listen, this was going to take time to process, to learn what vampires were and separate the fact from fiction.
"It's just a lot to take in. You can know something, but knowing something and being faced with it are two different things..."
She hesitates.
"I want to ask what will be a stupid question. Are", she sighs and rolls her eyes,"vampires are nearly always the evil ones in movies. "Are you, I mean vampires, evil?" We've established that at least Edmund was sometimes creepy as hell, but evil was another matter entirely. It felt like a dumb question but...she shrugged.
"No," she said a little too quickly. "I'm ok where I am, thank you." In public.
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"I...think I'm going to start with your last question. Are we evil?" A more complex question than it appeared with a more complex answer. He keeps his voice down, in case anyone is trying to listen. "I believe that depends on your definition of evil. Certainly some do believe that. Truthfully, though, most vampires I know, myself included, are just trying to balance who we are, who we were when we were human I mean, and our hunger for human blood, which necessarily places our fellow man in the position of prey. Some lose more and more of who they were as they indulge that hunger more, forgetting the morality they held in life. Some become little more than their hunger, held in check only by the sun. Others have gone out of their way to never harm another human being, holding themselves to a strict code they never even held in life, because they want to keep their power in check. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle."
Here, he takes a breath and says as gently as he can, "I can be dangerous. It depends. I try not to be here when it happens, because I don't like to make things dangerous for myself, but...I've killed. I've done worse. However, when I'm mostly lucid, it's not something I want. I can feed without causing injury, and I usually do." He leaves the other part, about world domination, alone. Why be obvious about world domination when one can read minds? Edmund isn't entirely certain the world doesn't already dance to some Kindred's tune.
"As for Alessandro and Daniel, I think you must be very cautious in dealing with them. They are...proud of their power. It's been a failing of Alex's for a long time, and Danny is very much his protege. They don't suffer fools and tend not to ask for what they can control you and take. And they can control a human's mind. How much...well, that depends on the human. On their natural defenses and their knowledge of what's going on. Which is part of why I want you to know." Edmund takes a sip of his tea, organizing his thoughts. What should he tell her? He isn't sure. He wants to offer her Blood, help her avoid nastiness with what she's tangled up in, but in her current state of mind, he doesn't need any special gift to see she'd be afraid. Just his eyes. "I don't know about Danny, but Alex tends to look down on mortals. Oh, he's very polite about it, but he doesn't treat mortals the same as he would another vampire. He won't try mind control at first. I believe he prefers buying loyalty, persuasion, and if the situation warrants it, provoking fear first. I've seen him do that. It's more certain, he says. Physically, he's much stronger than I am. I wouldn't arm wrestle him. Mentally, though..." Edmund narrows his eyes, decides to go ahead and tell her. "Alex can't read your mind, but Danny might. He's taken to training with me a bit."
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"Where the fuck was I when they were handing out powers in the grade school lunch line?" This must have been the third time that she said this in the last three months. She lifts her hand up as if to apologize for cursing even though they should all be glad that the table was still standing upright.
It's not like mind control was a new thing to her. But c'mon, vampires already had advantages and now, mind control was a thing too? A thing that could happen to her if Danny decided that, no, her interests collide in some way with Alessandro's enterprise. She didn't see how right now, but it was a possibility.
Afraid?! Buddy, she's livid now. She skids across of the highway of her mind, wrecking past the barrier of scared, to numb, and now was careening towards wreckless. The emotional exhaustion from this rollercoaster ride forced her to choose the stronger, stablest emotion right now.
That kinda power, pretty much the ability to stop the bad shit that happens in the dark streets to people by uttering a few words to someone and...yet. If she even had half the abilities that some of these people...
The anger is pent-up between her shoulder blades and in her neck, which she stretches in hopes of dissipating the energy there.
Her voice comes out evenly. It's deceptively calm as she half-listens to him discuss evil. Only her eyes betray her inner state, she's thinking. "And I'm guessing I can't protect myself by wearing a crucifix." That's not what she's thinking about.
She lightly smiled when he said that he was dangerous. She'd like to meet someone that wasn't in the circles that she travelled.
"Do you feed off of your patients, Dr. D? Is that why you're so possessive of them? It's very Twilight of you." She throws him a look and holds up her hand to cut him off.
"Nope, you're gonna take that one gracefully after what you've put me through tonight. You owe me at least several vampire jabs." Wrong turn of phrase.
"Stop, you know what I mean."
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"Yes. Sometimes I do. Feed off my patients, I mean. Not all the time, and not ones that would be too adversely affected by it." He tilts his head as he studies her. He loves her anger. He was expecting fear, but she's awash with color more to do with rage than fear. "However, I'm possessive of my patients because they expect my guidance and protection. I'm a doctor. I have been for a very long time. And I won't let other vampires' nonsense hurt any of them."
I wonder... "Besides, it doesn't hurt. I am careful about that. And, well. A few of the mortals in my employ, I have helped to become...more than that."
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The angry energy has nowhere to go right now so her foot stirs up air like a coffee spoon stirs milk.
Her face puckers in a yeah right expression. "Sure, why should having teeth puncture your skin hurt?" For a moment she thinks of animals that stun their prey with whatever is in their venom. Of course there's also all the movie vampire lore. "So, what, they're like...in your thrall when you...eat them. Feed. Eat. Whatever. I don't know."
Her brow lifts, "more than patients. More than...oh. You mean." She narrows her eyes at him in consideration. "More. So, you think we're less, I see. Do they thank you...your 'more than that's'?"
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He gives a sharp, harsh laugh, so different from his usual warm chuckles. The eyes on her are cold and calculating. Jack hasn't left yet. "I like humanity. Your complexity. You're fascinating. A bite and you writhe like a lover. Edmund likes that, but Jacky likes your screams. Rip and tear and drink the blood directly from your beating heart."
Edmund closes his eyes and gives a heavy sigh. He pinches the bridge of his nose a moment as he reasserts control. "Enough of that, Jack. But, what I...he said a moment ago. In my thrall sounds so dramatic. My bite can give us both pleasure and most of the time I have permission. Hardly in my thrall. I do like to think I have more respect than that." He thinks, and after letting his fangs extend, he opens his mouth. The fangs are long and needle sharp. "They're sharp enough all anyone feels is perhaps a prick."
no subject
She is being a sarcastic shit when she presses her lips together and nods. "That sounds...well, that sounds wond--fucking awful, actually." His unsettled, harsh laugh calms her attitude right down (for a moment at least).
It's like meeting Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. Huh. Maybe that's not fiction after all?
Everyone has their demons and unknowingly Edmund just stumbled on hers. Most of the time I have permission. The hairs on the back of her head stand at attention. Pleasure and permission.
She doesn't realize that her hand closes around her linen napkin, strangling it or holding onto it for dear life. Maybe both.
For some reason what he says tangles itself up with her business, with women who are shipped and sold, and enslaved. Or women, like her, who were assaulted and near death, and women who ran into men on days that the men didn't feel the need to ask for permission. They're thinking about two different things (well, consent was consent), but the word association sends her into a container at the bottom of the dark river.
She hopes they screamed themselves raw when they realized what was happening. Guilt? Not when she's like this. Maybe they all hunt and are monstrous in some way. The dark rushing water comforts her - she's not powerless as she feels right now.
Yes, but imagine how fast this would be over if you were like Matt, Jen or even Edmund. And then she remembers the deep trauma and even deeper tolls their lives take on them.
She takes a deep breath, her attention focusing on the two pointed fangs. That's probably the least threatening thing about Edmund and she looks nonplussed as she looks at him with a bit of curioisity.
He's talking about respect and somehow that sounds ridiculous right now from the confines of her very dark spiral that she's protectively pulling up around her. When you're surrounded by bad men doing bad things, it was hard not to colour every man that way. And now there were men and women that could just..could...take, Christ.
Don't generalize. Ezera separates what Doctor Dyencourt says away from her own personal experiences. But maybe she will go to the club tonight. Maybe someone too handsy will need their wrist broken. What?!
Of course, she wouldn't.
But then something hits her and she jolts in her seat. The wards in her club. They were constantly going off these nights at the Katakomb. Of course, it could be any supernatural being but, "oh, Jesusfuckingchrist", she mutters in realization. She had staff working there that had been freed from trafficking situations. The thought of them potentially being revictimized? A hand flew over her mouth with the realization. She didn't think about the fact that she had to worry about something like that.
What the fuck was she supposed to do about that potentiality?
It was hard enough protecting these women from human threats!
Lava. Everything is lava. Her chest constricts. She's back to her pattern of running. Except, these days? She runs right into dangerous situations in her crusade.
"I need to go." She nearly knocked the teapot off the table when her knee jolted against the bottom of the table top. Her tea wobbled in her cup and spilt over the side.
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Dark, rushing water...imagine how fast this would be over if...Matt, Jen or even Edmund...Men, dark men, who didn't ask for permission...Don't generalize.Wards going off at a club...oh, Jesusfuckingchrist...Lava. Everything is lava...
He reached for the teapot automatically when it wobbled, but he didn't stop her. He just said, quietly, "Ezera, be careful, please. I don't want you to get hurt."
And when she was on her way out, he turned to what looked like an unoccupied shadow in the corner of the restaurant. He talked to it in a careful tone, "How long have you been there? No matter. If you don't want me to be cross with you, you'll follow her and report back to me what's going on. Don't...don't interfere just yet. But watch."
Nora | OC | OTA
Loki Odinson | MCU | OTA
Loki / "Lionel Smith" | Jakub Ćwiek's "Kłamca" | OTA
alucard | castlevania
Remilia Scarlet | Touhou Project