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 Posted: Fri Jan 19, 2007 8:47 pm
Faintest glimpse of unnatural brightness, beauty though the corner of his eyes till Skittles moved, head cocked to one side as if listening for something no one else could here, eyes half lidded and iris's a swirl of dark colors of one in deep thought.
Such things had been happening more and more often, frankly scaring him. Skittles seemed nearly on the cusp of going mad and such a thing had been taught in his core to be feared. The mad rose problems in safety of the group, but damned the Vanguard.
Sound, flick of one of the leather head wings in acknowalgement, turn and pause. One was faintly familiar from their stays at the town house. Wolfe? A predator name at least. The other bright, the sort of the glimpse of too much color. Gentleman at least, old style dress, amuse by something or a other going on beyond the rest of their grasp till it came know. Great..the bird just reminded him of one of the peacocks controling the city.
Skittles moved, eyes opening ride at the flood of colors eagerly taking in everything with sharp eager eyes clearly filled with want and deeper the barest glipse of pehaps intimate intrest that disappeared to quick to be certain it was his own thought.
Honey blonde tail twitched, and small bare feet pattered as he made the first steps closer to the new one. Alex..he reminded him of Alex but less..kind more sure but still the wings. Alex had two pairs like costum jewerly he once said and the bright flaring wings now reminded him the same. They seemed to beautiful, perfect to work right.
He wanted one, to hoard under his bed with the rest of the knick knacks that caught his intrest. Shinny stones, bright flowers, a butterfly wing, various feathers, and a scrap of skin shed from some reptile he like to run his fingers over and marvel at the dryness and bumps.
Giggling. "Your wings are tooo preety to be true." Smile with just the smallest glimpse of oddly long fangs and the slightest lingering of something alien behind the friendly, child like exterior.
Small glimpses..nothing long enough to trigger recknogition..though that would have been a stretch. Scion closed his eyes, metaphoric mind you Skittles still was in control at least for now of the body they still shared, trying to drown out other sorces buying for his attention.
Words, emotions, feelings that couldn't be placed in the limit of actual speech as growing things whispered, if it could be called that. Dug deeper to block them all out..pity he couldn't take control. Such a intresting looking character, he certainly wouldn't mind being alone with such in a dark room.
Explore a bit..sleep or not to sleep. Sleep drowned out the voices..but Skittles..damn it Vain was perfectly capable of watching his twin...maybe just a little while longer.
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Posted: Sat Jan 20, 2007 9:44 am
A singular golden-blonde eyebrow arched in sympathetic indulgence and with a practiced, perfected incline of head he both acknowledged and - perhaps - accepted the more chimerically colored of the two companions' compliment, characterized by... what he could not yet consider knowable. For in the slighter fox's giggle and grin there had been a glimpse of fang, caught conspicuously in otherwise delicate, rosy complexion that stood out as a blade among children - surely out of place, shrieking for the attention of parental-minded adults. What a pity he had no appreciation for such ethics of the primitive priority for tender young. The fang then, remained but a curiosity for him rather than a warning of any variety.
"A comment more complete than has passed my attention in quite some time," Bram mused in that same reserved though clearly defined British accent, "How charming of you, my many-hued spectacle." There was a delicate but decisive sweep of hand as he gently grasped the fox's palm, lifting it to barely brush still curling lips across it's back before releasing, and settling their contact for but the meeting of eyes instead of fleshy dependence. Bram Stoker was quite particular about the degree of physicality that passed between him and other creatures - specifically in the vein that it should be brief and that only he should initiate it.
"But though charming you may be I find such pleasantry to be less substance than would be satisfying - might I have the more solid gratification of your name," a pause, delicate but decisive as his movements, "And the nature of your acquaintance with dear Wolfe?"
Lingering still just outside the circle of contact, Wolfe's attention tightened instinctively at notice of his name - or the name... that name... Kingsley was paranoid, sure as sure could be - and sure he'd been before but now perhaps, when things crumbled again because familiarity was not something dependable it turned out, he could no longer be certain of sureties. A name in itself was nothing more than syllables but when words were all you had to go on, what else could you take to define yourself in the truest sense? Adjectives didn't add up.
Oh hell and hell's deepest pits - words, words, words! All roads of thought led back to but one location and concern, the presence and worry over those he'd do anything to conceal from this warp in sweeter reality. Words led him down winding whispers to but one concern, one name - no, more than one name but only one person. And the one most likely to know, to see, to find out before anyone else should the concealment come down to word of mouth from Wolfe alone - Alex, it was always Alex when it came to language and recognition.
He had to stop getting distracted.
But what else could he do when he wanted to be anywhere but here? Think on other things, worry for other times - avoid the disaster in the making only to conjure more? If only things hadn't...
Wolfe continued to stand away from the others, as if on the verge of fidgeting in taut silence.
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Posted: Sat Jan 20, 2007 7:54 pm
Skittles blinked at the oddly spoken words barely following and flushed as his palm was grasped and kissed. Old world, old grace, wise though, not like one of the palace lords he was.. something else all together. Familiar though he just couldn't grasp it.
Name, he knew that. "It's Skittles," he paused looking at Wolfe. "I thought your name was Oliver..we live together in the Town house at the moment." Not that he saw much of the other. He tilted his head taking in the other like some odd bird and with a flounce and smile had wrapped him in a hug.
"Hi Wolfe." He had looked cuddly.
Vain sighed at the hug. Why in the name of sigh..he wouldn't be Skittles if he didn't hug people on whim. At least it was Wolfe now?, not the other, he had a gut feeling the nixie wouldn't want his feathers ruffled. His eyes narrowed slight. THat didn't excuse the touche, old world romanticism. He didn't appriecate it.
He didn't belive the other as his. It wasn't possesiveness just fear that this well dress stranger was going to break the little fox. "Sooo, what your name goldy locks?" He rumbled clearly sarcastic. Many hued spectacle? What was this guy? A walking dictonary?
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Posted: Sat Jan 20, 2007 11:21 pm
Though on your average day - but when and what was average?--not even to be rhetorical or pretentious but desperately searching for some sort of grounding please, please, please - Wolfe was not adverse to contact - or maybe he'd become that, faint recollections of the scattered days when he'd shied away from the brush of a stranger and yearned for the (ironic) breath of only very few.
Thus he stiffened a hair's breadth at the hug, though made no move to break it - no move to accept it either, on the other hand - and seemed, ultimately, neither to acknowledge that it'd even happened. Though with contact came the realization that there was really no way out of this now. Because words made things real and happening and happenings once inspired to begin could not be ignored, only executed. One way or another, things wound to a point and--
"Hi," so quick and hastened it had the tone of a confession for all its brevity. "It--uh--it was," no particular emphasis on the verb, as it simply happened, as this was simply happening. A fact that was accepted, if moreso than the impending feelings he had about this whole encounter. But in the presence of Bram all words wending through Wolfe's head remained within the territory of possible and only probably, encircled in their own silence.
He just had that effect on people - perhaps particularly Wolfe at present but really, how could he expect any less? The curving lips neither quirked further nor flattened a mote at the sour tone to the demon's voice and, though far from satisfied with the explanation of acquaintance - for there were details, delicious details to be dissected yet - still turned on precise heel to peer in cunning bemusement at the dark-haired creature.
For such was the nature of the phoenix's game - no effort to conceal the (more than fair) possibility of chicanery, even trickery, and no time spent diminishing the reality of it when engaged in the act. It could be called shamelessness but would be more accurately defined by the overflow of the assurety of self, not quite a confidence and of certainly a different brand than arrogance (though in a sense, no less unappealing for all its shimmering magnetism).
Seemingly undeterred by the title in the least - he'd been called far worse, of course, and by far less gentlemanly types (though he would make no assumption as to the nature of this fellow just yet) - the head eventually bent once more, down and to the side with a shallow sweep of arm and hand, as precise and pointed as before, "Bram Stoker, perhaps at your service, perhaps already in it, and then again very well possibly entirely removed from any such considerations - to whom do I have the possible pleasure of passing on that which I am called?" Punctuation, poise, perfectly constructed to communicate a mildly fascinated engagement. It was difficult to feel as though one had anything less than Bram's full attention when he focused even the slightest.
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Posted: Sun Jan 21, 2007 5:59 am
Skittles let go quickly sensing something wrong, settling back tails twitching slightly, back and forth. A other tilt of head and mild ohh of understanding. "You name changes? That a bit odd," he replied amused slightly and understanding for some odd reason..now what was it?
Just as easy though the question was gone and he had hooked himself onto Vain, sensing the others distress and eyeing Bram. Funny name Bram. "Goldly locks was a girl. His hair is yellowish but he's so pale..maybe it's buttercup?" The younger piped up.
Vain swallowed his laugh as Skittles piped up, hand moving across the others hair to rest across his back in a clearly protective intimate gesture as his thumb did little circles. Unfortuanly he was unaware of it still and when he did it stopped and just became protective.
Sigh..what was with this man and sentences? Did he try to cram as many words as possible in one as he spoke? How hard was it to say simply, May I have your name? He was getting tired of this exchange, aching to just pull out the kankashi needles-not in his hair it had been allowed to below loose- but tucked in the sleeves of the simple sweat shirt.
"Vain. It's nice to see you again Oliver, Wolfe. How is Alex doing?" The question had a few things behind it. One, he hadn't seen much of the other angel. Two, Skittles had been wondering where his friend perhaps mentor had went. Three, he was tired of the vacumm talking and taking up all the fresh air. Four, he really didn't want to draw attention to himself here.
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Posted: Sun Jan 21, 2007 10:59 am
A noise similar to the exhalation just before a laugh escaped Wolfe and he covered the sudden extinguishment of almost-nervous sound with a nod and faint moment of a half-grin that unfortunately failed just as quickly as the attempt towards other such alleviations, assurances against tension. There would be no denying how close to the edge he'd come to now, how very, very close he was to blundering - alternately purposefully leaning too far - over into... whatever it was that lay beyond.
"A bit," he conceded in further effort to maintain some sort of contact - for if it was inevitable the important part became ensuring it didn't escalate, in settling over and dragging everything down with him, down and down and not over the edge but down all the same, somewhere deep and safe.
A smile did thrive for a longer moment, though, at the metaphoric buttercup - now there was a simile not yet approached, and one with the trail of thought and all triggered moments brought him to the memory of sweet grass and far too many people all raised in one anthem that meant nothing but more memories, so like a double dose of nostalgia that built upon and ionized itself...
"Mm," even the single syllable fraught with the melodic tendencies of the voice, as this time the smile did curve into something more than the invariable quirk, theoretically a nod towards amusement, "I'm fair familiar with fairytales, yes, Goldilocks was indeed quite female," Bram agreed in a gracious murmur.
Vain? Vanity. Considering the demon's appearance perhaps not so far off the mark in terms of just-behind-the-readily-apparent. For though the man presented the air of one disenchanted with the games of graces he was no unshaven beast - far from it, given the elaborate nature of dress and hair. A tickle of laughter made the promise of an echo in the notes of his voice then as he glanced back, "Oh yes, Wolfe, however has Alex taken to the world?"
And however much those words were spoken in a delicate, innocuous nature, it was precisely that nature that set Wolfe's teeth to clench for yet another choked and brief moment--never able to follow through with any reaction, just so bound to this shock and stillness--and forced him to shoot a look shot with all that conflicting instinct and concern in darkening upset to Bram, though softening if even briefer in contact towards Vain, "Fine," though tinted with the almost-desperate, desperate to believe it or desperate to find another topic? "He's fine."
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Posted: Sun Jan 21, 2007 11:40 am
The demon caught the odd tone and nodded. "That is good then. We haven't seen him in quite some time. How about Arthur? There seems to be some difference in him of late," he went on smoothly. Frankly he could care less about the odd abnormally in the rat's aura. The hostility in personality was still there yes, but something, some danger had lessened considerably. As if something had become missing.
Similar could be said about Skittles, something had blossomed. Hmmm, perhaps he should check the aura of his new acquaintance, just how to do so with out tipping him off? Bram was no wet behind the ear youth, there was too much age to his attitude.
Skittles thankfully provide a distraction as the little thing suddenly started hoping and babbling away. His eyes closed with a sigh as if asking for patient as Skittles started going on quite happily about Alex's traits he enjoyed.
"We made origami out of jeans; well I made origami out of them or tried to. Did you know that jeans are to stiff to make origami out of? Not like shirts..now shirts."
He left the fox to his babbling relaxing into the slip stream if you will of his aura sight. He paused almost in disbelief – how many people where from that realm or world here?- and sigh. “So, how long has Bram been your vampire sire Oliver? Sorry Wolfe.” He opened his eyes banishing the glows of aura. Strange, he was seeing glows now, including the threads he could follow in tracking someone down.
Vampire, just what he needed.
Skittles froze in mid sentence, blinking before blurting. “Buttercups a vampire? Oooo is that why your skin is so pale? Vain is dark because the Vanguard, they all are dark skin. Does that mean you’re from the same world as Alex, Wolfe, and Cody? What about Peregrine?” His tail wagged in pure eagerness as he thought up more questions, face quizzical.
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Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 7:38 pm
There was a twitch of a frown, emotion so fleeting it seemed to be escaping from the fingers-clenched clinging around a hope for stoicism. Not to let anything slip nor slip by nor slip in nor slip-slide-mis-step nor miss the mark nor--"Out," safety in the monosyllabic from whence nothing could stray or get lost, lost in translation, lost in the mix, lost on the way--"He--goes out, sometimes --Arthur does too, I don't know where, he's just--he just goes."
A hand had reached as if to rub the back of his neck as not few are wont to do when nervous - but it just lay there, fingers brushing tentatively between whispers of hair and the once paler neck, resting over but not quite on skin in the picture of uncertain guilt, never sure what was too much and when too little was wrong, fearful even. Sure he'd noticed Arthur's recent uh--well maybe not so much. Arthur was Arthur, and that meant reticence and pessimism and cynicism and nasty glares that ended in coughs and hacked off sentences and-- and that was that.
Something off? He hadn't--
But thoughts trip-trembled back and words just wouldn't be held by themselves any longer, impounded by thought alone they couldn't help but multiply and magnify and finally the need to amend before dishonesty--"Isn't, he isn't," words falling over each other so quickly they melded into a string of sound so fluid it might've been but a single word, "Things changed - everything almost, because when you're here not there then you're here and when you're here how much of you can be the same? Back before, way back before here and things getting all strange and ears and tails and wings and all that, that was when - and he's not--he's not my sire," those last spoken with especial emphasis, perhaps in hopes of remedying past deceptions--
But before the inevitable ramble could ravage any further the phoenix cut in with practiced ease, the imperceptible intake of breath all it took to freeze Wolfe's words back to silence, "How true the title holds now must needs be brought to question," the golden man mused airily, drawing on a pose suited to the romantic and contemplative, singular finger tapping idly against chin, "For while prior to arrival here said statement would sound with but subtle inaccuracy, neither I nor - to my knowledge," a brief glance of inquiry though nothing serious towards Wolfe, "My former grandchilde require subsistence on certain unsightly substances to survive."
And, leaving said inquiry at that with no apparent intention of further pursuit, "As for the present predicament of our companions? I do feel the imperative to claim full responsibility for their recent rearrangements~" The smile lingered and brightened for a moment as he once more glanced to Wolfe...
Who, despite the weight of world-weary anxieties whenever it came down to or ended up revolving around his hell of a grandsire, now stood with an expression of some determination - though directed towards what was yet impossible to say, for even when those pale eyes found themselves staring to Bram they were filled with something other than accusation...
But far be it from Bram to nettle - well, no, not really at all, but he simply didn't quite feel the motivation at the moment - and he directed full attention once more to the colorful dichotomy before him. "Though in a backpedal to mention of the pursuit of the avant-garde in clothing as ancient traditions of art," the curling lips parted in their pause of amusement, "I rest full-certain you've not seen the last of Mr. Sanders' propensity for speculative ornamentary."
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 4:22 am
Lets unravel everything in plain talk here. Wolfe seem afraid of Bram considering that Bram was his 'sire' it some way it made sense. He was also afraid for Alex. So Oliver/Wolfe was one of the other was vampire now was a vampire. So strange. How was vapiracy translated in their world? The virus had finally kicked in here making sure he could only part take blood among energy if what had been said was true. And Bram was why they where here...blah he was getting a head ache.
"I understand Wolfe. Change does seem apparent in this realm." Taking in his own wings and such and the problem with his metabolic rate early. "I apology if I was wrong, just you have his.."- pause what would not worry the wolf anymore then he was? Vanguard belief was that the soul and spirit combined when a vampire was sired and the sire left a part of them behind in the other. A part of their soul so they could always find the other-
"dimly mind you, mark? Part of his aura and yours are combined. Perhaps better to say spotted? Not much but enough to hedge a relation." This is fun.
A flounce and the fox had sprawled out on his back, looking up at the wings seeming to be able to shift from oranges to shades of yellow and attempting to capture one. “They are pretty aren’t they? Do you ever shed them like a bird?” He wanted one but Vain said it was rude to pull feathers out. Scolding was bad.
The red eyes blinked, hair rustling slightly and a small whine came from the fox. “I’m thirsty.”
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 12:51 pm
The change rolling through Wolfe's composure - or rather the arrival of composure in the first place - began in a relaxation of the yet resistant stillness. For now, though movement yet failed to return to statuesque limbs the way he held himself suggested more stolidity than hesitance. "Half-wrong," though still short the words not breaking at their ends like they had been doing, now statements rather than avoidance, "Part-wrong, something close--he is--was--there's space between--was a space--"
Then, almost frustrated with himself for having the determination but no ability to speak of, "Grandsire," a cut off to himself more than anything else, "Generations--one step away."
An aural residue? Fascinating, to think there might be a method of sensing such connections when in truth the very idea of aura perception was so fundamentally different in this brash new world - or from wherever Vain derived, taking into view his response and the suggestion of change in himself as well, not merely as a matter of fact.
But distraction lay now at the fault of the wordsome curiosity that was Skittles - not for the mention of feathers, for such talk only encouraged ill-mannered behavior but on the mention of thirst, for in the inflection of that whine and the concern from moments earlier led on to certain very specific suspicions, the like of which led the phoenix to indulge in a shade of his own aura perception to notice.... ah yes, certain qualities with which he was unfamiliar but the basic pull and twist of the hook that suggested...
Vampires. Curiouser and curiouser. "Might I suggest a more desirable location for the satisfaction of said craving?" he murmured in diplomatic air, more to the presence of the two Kindred combined than either or specifically.
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Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 1:09 pm
Vain nodded. "Was," he agreed giving a bob of agreement just to perhaps set Wolfe's mind at ease. Given then others apparent mental state that could be difficult. .
Pause, tilt, storm eyes lingering on the little fox. Thirsty, of all things. Why couldn't he be hungry? Blood could be obtained easily but the odd facts about the little one he wanted to try to keep secret specially from this Bram character. He had a feeling that Bram would take interest Skittles and try to covet him. The technology could not be duplicated. Should not be able to be duplicated, for the love of all why where they have this discussion just standing in the restaurant?
Skittles curled around his guards pant leg, tugging demanding with slim hands. “Vaaaiin.”
“Shush,” he commanded closing his eyes. Restaurant of all mighty they would not Skittles take a dip in the sink. Sanitary codes and all that, and a water pitcher over his head would not help either and most likely get them thrown out. “What are you suggesting?” He finally grumbled, eyes fixing on Bram sternly, hand resting on the dry strands of what was believed to be hair soothing the fox as he trembled.
"Pond?"
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Posted: Wed Jan 24, 2007 11:04 pm
One pale eyebrow had arched pointedly, indicative that there was no necessity to conceal the nature of mercurial Skittles' craving. But to the quick - Vain did not seem the type to underestimate any more loquaciously inclined individuals and something about this further attempt to obscure true natures caught to the edge of his suspicions and drew them to linger longer than he might at first have thought to. For such was the true nature of his own disposition, an uncanny ability to uncover the character of concealment. It went far beyond the summation that it 'takes one to know one', for Bram typically first recognized a deception... then came to understand it so intimately it might have been his own. And something here glimmered just enough to be tantalizingly present, a promise of reality should enough attention be paid to its due.
A pond?
"Bathing was not precisely what I'd called to consideration, actually," Bram murmured in a manner most delicately precise, almost cutting for its subtlety, "Locations less populated, however, do leave lasting impressions of the appropriate solitude one might desire for satiation of certain appetites."
..........Yeah okay definitely totally completely beyond the shadow of a doubt or even the whisper of one - missing something. But when it came to Bram all Wolfe usually needed to know was that there was a devious thing he couldn't see - what it was or what it's purpose he rarely could tell though on principle it never failed to nag him that he ought to do something decisive about it, specifically in the vein of putting it to rest far away from anywhere or to anyone it might do damage.
But then there was the vague possibility, however very slim and very vague and usually definitely totally completely impossible it turned out to be that there might be more to Bram's wiles of the moment than sheer devious delight. That there might be a grander scheme that was ultimately not definitely totally completely a bad one, not for everyone - maybe even for the betterment of more (or at least the more important) than less.
But how to know and how to assume and to assume and turn blindly and to allow for things that simply weren't right when one had the opportunity to interfere--but what to do what to do what to do?
Though given the option between allowing his former grandsire to tag curiosity and follow this momentary wonder for as long as it suited him and forcing him (how how how) to other amusements, amusements which would inevitably end in meetings Wolfe simply was not keen on designing in the flesh... it might be some sort of sacrifice, it might turn out to be indelibly stupid, but Wolfe far preferred to have Bram here and with them than out and about and hounding certain others - among whom Alex was certainly a primary but perhaps not the sole greatest of his concerns.
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Posted: Thu Jan 25, 2007 6:53 am
Bathing wasn’t on Skittles mind but the water was. Vain gently tugged the fox up to his feet from the submissive, lounge and cling pose against his leg. He pulled the fox into his arms, resting his head on the hair. “You silly thing, you are going to drive me into drinking,” he muttered and looked at Bram. “I agree with the less populated location.” It would be best to leave before someone else showed up. “Some place clean.”
The red gold eyes went half lidded, sultry and he arched against the other. “You can’t drink whisky. Mmmm, clean water please,” he said looking at Bram. “Lots of clean water not frozen or chilled.” A giggle and the fox was playing with Vain’s hair tugging the black strands.
Returning to the town house was starting to look more and more the only choice. He glanced down at the other. The house had Skittles sun lap as well. “Perhaps we should just return back to the town house?” It was also private there.
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Posted: Thu Jan 25, 2007 5:50 pm
"No," reprimand more than a demand for its sharpness, stolid disagreement and an underlying steel - for all Wolfe knew the one way to really get Bram interested in something was to deny it to him maybe maybe maybe there would be a connection and an understanding and Vain might know why he shouldn't lead him back or at least that - "Bad idea, I don't like it - somewhere else." The words once again tumbling together in a mess of the occasional consonant rupturing a sea of vowels.
Though he spared not the barest glance for the boy Bram still managed to communicate the mild, untouchable amusement. A cold and tuneless sigh that whisper-fell down from an age-old to a more cutting silence. It was no secret between them - or to the world, given Wolfe's actions - how very dearly the boy desired that Bram should not set foot near his sanctuary. Not as yet, at the very least. But they were both keenly aware of just how futile any attempt would be if Bram should truly desire to intrude on whatever ambivalence might be had there by finally setting foot on the secluded, still safe ground thereabouts.
His intrusion was inevitable, inescapable, poetic injustice of the iniquitous incarnation. In which case, it might seem inestimably futile a thing for Wolfe to know the end yet seek the alternative and pretend towards ignorance all throughout. But what hope and what dreams may come, he knew - this was the nature of his former grandchilde, to grasp more than there was to be had in vain idealistic ignorance. Quite charming, in most cases. And not to his disadvantage now.
"The Townhouse," a lilt of murmur, so speculatively calm he might well not have heard Wolfe at all, "I do confess a surprise to the selection - but one knows oneself best," a concession of devilishly unconcealed unconcern. "We would not overburden you with witness were we to accompany, would we?" he went on in a tone that likewise failed to hide that in no uncertain terms would he (and Wolfe) be coming along, no matter where they ended wandering.
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Posted: Thu Jan 25, 2007 6:12 pm
Hmm perhaps home-if you could call the town house home- was not the best answer. His eyes fell and he shifted slightly causing the boy to shift in his arms to a more comfortable postion.
Hotel then. "Fine, acompany us if you chose to." He was going to a cheep hotel and shut Skittles into the bathroom so he can take a long soak and he was going to nap. "We are going to the closest hotel with an open room." He sigh and started otu the door.
"Hotel not motel!" Skittles chirped up.
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