{A Lonely Time}
Qadir: Gold
Degas: Black
- April 25th 2007
Degas had been stuck indoors too long for Moros's taste. The fox had noticed that the scent's newest addiction was Shakespeare. Shakespeare and all Shakespeare related things.
"He needs help to make friends." the fox mumbled looking at the child who sat on the floor mouthing words from Romeo and Juliet. "Well, I'm going to help him." A scuffle and five minutes later, the scent went flying out the door followed by a big book of Shakespeare."Don't come back untill you've met a friend!!" Moros yelled at Degas who pouted at him and worked on picking himself up. "I mean it!"
Degas winced as he heard the door slam shut and took a look at his surroundings looking for someone, who might want to hold a converstation. Unfortunately, the fox had thrown him out in the middle of the night. The street outside thier apartment was empty and quiet."Doesn't anyone worry about kids anymore?! What if someone came who wasn't very nice?!" He mumbled to himself as he crossed the empty night street to sit on a bride and read. "At least he didn't take my book. Hopefully, he'll realize in a little after I read that this is the world's stupidest idea."
Qadir, who had nothing better to do with his free time and who was only out at night, had decided upon a midnight scavenger hunt. What exactly he was looking for wasn't clear, for there certaily wasn't anything around that he so much needed. Instead, the man took his time strolling through the outskirts of the city, watching people turn in for the night even though he was only just beginning his day. Being alone most nights certainly had its disadvantages, but Qadir usually made up for that with his love of bats, who also only ventured out in the night.
It had been an enjoyable walk with his new companion, a bat perched upon Qadir's shoulder, fluffing it's slick wings and flicking it's large ears, when Qadir noticed a...lump? Lifting a brow, the man moved over to see what or who it was, for he hoped that whatever sounded like it was mumbling to itself was indeed human. As he grew closer, the tall man cleared his throat so as not to startle the other, but he didn't bother to speak.
Degas spoke to himself mouthing the lines of Romeo from the play; "Why then O brawling love O loving hate O anything of nothing first create..." He looked over his shoulder instinctively and turned to Qadir when he noticed that he had made a noise. A heady feeling overwhelmed him for a moment then he smiled at the vampire, cheerful and excited to see him.
"Ay me sad hours seem long since I have last seen the friendly face of any man." The book moved him to speak the way anything beautiful cold. "Greetings again." The scent looked over to Qadir's shoulder and at his friend. "I extend my hello to you as well."
"Oh, if it isn't Degas L'Artisanale," Qadir replied with a broad grin, his white teeth bright in the glow of the moonlight and a stark contrast to the rest of his dark persona. Those amber eyes of his seemed to glow in the dark as well, the amber drops unobstructed by the jovial mask he'd worn when he'd first met the boy.
The bat didn't seem to notice it was being spoken to, for it only flexed one of it's taloned claws against the shoulder of Qadir's coat. Unlike other mythical creatures, Qadir didn't have any 'connection' with animals of any sort, so the bat upon his shoulder was only a typical night bat without any special powers. Qadir couldn't even communicate with the thing, he was simply 'good' with bats, but maybe that did have something to do with him being a vampire.
"Last I checked, it was a bit late for younge men to be outside, especially on their own. Who might you be reciting Shakespeare to my boy? A girl perhaps? That must be why you lounge out here, soaking in the affectionate rays of a beautiful rabbit." Qadir didn't usually speak so oddly, but tonight, calling the moon a rabbit rather than a chunk of rocks seemed to fit the setting.
Degas shuddered at the looming pressence that Qadir could give when he was potrayed in certain lights but saw it nothing more as another face of his personality. If anything the scent was more charmed by his beauty since his since his eyes were now the most promient feature. He shook his head to the vampire's question with the smallest of frowns.
"No, I have no one to speak to with such passion. They speak of love-" he held up his book for emphasis, "I speak with artistic interest and...lonliness, which can give the same feelings" Degas blushed and turned to look up at the moon. "The foxes locked me outside and told me to make a friend...I'm not allowed back in. So that's why I sit out here with my book reading and watching the most beautiful things I could find....It's lonely but what else do I have?"
Qadir took a moment and stretched himself, languid and graceful as a cat he let his arms extend before him and allowed his back to twist just a bit. He wasn't uncomfortable, but he planned on sitting down to talk with the boy and so he didn't want to get sore and have to stand from sitting too long. Bad things came from lanky men that curl up for too long you know.
"Lonely? I don't see how that could be possible," replied the man as his body seemed to crumple artistically into a seated position beside the boy, long legs criss-crossing over one another. "I can imagine all the girls you know falling in love with you after hearing you recite Shakespeare. Not that I've ever been able to charm a woman using his words, but I've witnessed many who could."
Eyes slipped to look at the boy for a moment as another smile and another flash of his pointed teeth could be seen in the dim light of the moon. After a moment he'd turn to look at the bat upon his shoulder, lifting a hand and extending a finger for the little beast to hop onto the offered appendage. "He will be your friend I'm sure, as will every other nocturnal creature out for midnight strolls."
Of course, Qadir included himself in the description of nocturnal creatures, and he was sure the boy was bright enough to pick up on his hinted words.
Degas shifted a little to make room for his friend a bit envious that he could carry himself with such dignity. He hoped that when he was older he would be that fortunate. The scent stuck the book on the ground and shrugged again.
"Qadir you are the only person, I've ever met and talked this long with. There is no one for me to woo. There is no one for me even to talk to about common things. I haven't even met an actual girl, just a woman who had someone with her at the party." He smiled a little bitterly "The only one I'm wooing is my own reflection."
Degas blinked at the bat and gave Qadir a true smile. "I would like that. He seems as kind as the company he keeps." Absently mindedly he quired his head. "I wonder if it is very odd to see the world from above all the time and upside down. ...to do such tricks in the air even when you can't see that well must be tricky."
The dark man laughed and let his head fall back, whisping bangs of black hair and dimmed gold slipping across his forehead. "My boy, how old are you that you desire someone to woe? No doubt you want friends at the age you posess, but to woe someone?" Qadir brought his head back up and let his chin rest upon a balled fist.
"You should never woe your reflection...terrible things may come of it. I've seen many, many things in my travels over these many years younge man." Qadir was careful to respect the boy beside him in refrence to calling him a younge man. He may be old now, but Qadir could never forget the hatred he'd felt when he was but a child and called as such. Boys always seem to share the desire to be seen as older than they really are.
The man watched as Degas inspected the bat that Qadir had met that night, and the bat simply looked right back at the boy with eyes that couldn't even register him. "It is more pleasant than you might believe. Odd, yes, but I think that he may have grown more accustomed to one that has only tried it a very few times."
Degas crossed his arms stubbornly annoyed by the question. Even though it wasn't Qadir's intention he had already managed to upset the child. He might be young but that was hardly something that made him a poor canidate for love. "Now that was cruel. You mock me because I am younger than you? You must be joking everyone wants to love and everyone desires even if they have no words for it. I might only be less than a month in the world as I am but....I feel like my head and my dreams are too big for it already. I was born in a pond the size of a tea cup when I am a whale."
"I say that simply because I have only myself....but I will take your advice on this since you seem to know much more than me on the subject." Degas mumbled giving Qadir a look of seriousness that stated he knew the inference his word made. He might of been young but definetely not in his opinion, to love and snap at words. Although apparently too young still to forgive easily things that bothered him.
Degas reached for his book and set it in his lap for his own comfort's sake. Also to keep himself from fidgeting. "I would hope so, I don't like the idea of him running into a sign or something. Even though it is a little funny. When I do that my face turns colors."
Qadir lifted his brows at the sudden spatter of words from the boy. It took him a moment to snap out of his state of shock, but when he did he smiled and leaned in close to the boy. "I don't think mock is the proper term Degas. I simply asked how old you were. Love and desires, of course they are for everyone. A baby loves its mother, and a baby is much younger than you. I can think of none older than I but perhaps a tree, and does a tree not love the sun and rain? I do not mock you because you are younger, nor do I suggest to say that you are too younge to do anything with your life, I simply meant to inquire as to what you meant when you said woe. Do you wish to woe a friend to love, or a lover to love? There's quite a difference that I have spent many years figuring out."
The man pushed himself up to stand, fixing a few of the wrinkles upon his jacket and taking a moment for his words to settle in. His clam face expressed nothing, no regret for how he'd phrased his words at any point, but more importantly he did not express any anger towards the boy. Some may have thought his words sounded rough, but he was only trying to be honest with the boy, for treating him like a child would only make him become angrier. "Degas, I felt once the same way you do now, but I wasn't...a scent was it? I did not at one month look as you do now, so you in your own right have opinions that have more weight in manners than mine, but I still fell that perhaps I know what it is your feeling. I wish I could say that as you grow, so will the world grow to accept your big dreams, but I fear to express that to me, the world only grows smaller as you begin to occupy it more." His words didn't much mean anything honestly, he wasn't telling Degas that he shouldn't dream, nor did he imply that Degas should do all that it takes to reach his goals despite usual adult encouragement.
"I don't think it's fair that you think me naieve." He blushed and looked away unable to keep his expression from showing with Qadir so close to him. He listened to the vampire frowning as he did. he had made a very big mistake in tact and worse yet he didn't have a good answer to the questions. "I-I'm not sure...." he answered honestly. "It's hard to know when I have only one or the other."
Degas looke looked down at the water listening. His fingers traced the words of his book quietly. For once he was at a lack of words and while the advice was appreciated. The scent was retreating in order to collect himself. ".....I think you for your advice Qadir." His voice lacked it's usual enthusiasm and assurance but it was not sad.
"I don't think you naieve. I think you wise beyond your years," the man replied calmly, but he didn't say anymore. Honestly, he knew when it was better to not irritate the poor boy; if Degas needed a moment to collect his thoughts then Qadir would give him all the time he needed. When Degas spoke, the man would be ready to listen, but until then the mans lips remained sealed over those sharp fangs.
It was a pleasant night, maybe even pleasant enough for...yes, yes it was. Qadir wriggled out of his jacket slowly and folded it up, resting it upon the ground before jumping lightly off the edge of the bridge and falling ever so, well, who goes gracefully into the water anyway?
Oh yea, that was refreshing.
Degas was caught up in thinking about which one he had and why it was that big of a deal. It was a tough decision, one that made him especially feel like a child in a very big world. 'More like a head shrinking' he thought to himself with a frown.
Then Qadir did something very distracting. Degas watched as he took of his jacket already puzzling him. He jumped into the water and the scent blinked confusedly. He frowned at him jelously for a moment then set his book on top of the vampire's jacket to be sure that it didn't fall.
"That looks particuarly comforting for an over worked mind.....Where did you learn to swim?"
Qadir managed to hear the boys words just as he surfaced, shaking his head to get some of the water from his hair and laughing as it tickled his dark skin. "Learn how to swim? Hmm, I don't remember ever being taught...but there are many years from the beginning of my life that I simply don't remember..."
"Can you not swim?" asked the man, flipping over to float upon his back and stare up at the glowing moon. He wished he could lay like this forever, suspended weightlessly in a cool liquid with nothing but the happy moon sharing its love with a world that hardly ever saw it.
Degas swung his feet in little circles. "No, I can't. I wasn't taught how." He muttered a bit watching his friend enjoy the water. "Remember I was only born a little bit ago and....the foxes....Foxes seem to ruin a lot of my life."
Qadir sat up in the water, the soft sound of rippling water coming from his actions. Lifting his arm he motioned for the boy to join him in the water. "I'm sure the foxes can't be ruining 'everything' Degas...I mean, you are fed, you are clothed, you don't appear to be abused. I think there are many things they could do that would truly ruin your life."
The man slipped a bit closer to where the boy was sitting. He'd gladly help the boy either learn how to swin or just enjoy the water by floating on Qadir's back; if he wanted to of course. "Well, not knowing how to swim at your age isn't odd, maybe the foxes just haven't gotten around to it yet?"
"They do the basic maintence and they give me things to play with but there is always more tos life. That is where I believe they....could use a course or two in." A little nervous but trusting Degas decided to take him up on the offer to join him. He slipped off his shoes and set them on his book before hopping into the water. He shuddered having never been in water this big before and floated up to the top with a gasp. "It's colder than I imagined!" He cried out a little louder than intended the flapped about nervously.
The man didn't let Degas stay under the surface for more than a moment. A panicing child was not the best way to teach them how to swim. "It's best not to flail around, it will only make you feel more helpless. Use wide, sweeping strokes and your own body to float. It's usually easiest to lay on your back. Don't do anything when you lay on your back. As soon as you srart to wiggle or kick you'll go right back under," Qadir said, tugging the boy gently to his side and then wrapping the boy's arms over his shoulders so Degas could simply ride on the man's back while he did some wonky form of breast stroke around the pond. "Tell me if you're starting to get too cold, it wont do you any good to go catching a cold, and I think if you're foxes are as lack as you describe them they may not be able to take care of you as you would need to be taken care of."
Latching lightly to Qadir, Degas tried to take his advice about staying calm. It was kind of thrilling to be learning how to do something he hadn't ever learned before in such a hands on way. He smiled a bit latched to the vampire till he was calm.
"Thank you Qadir, I don't think I would have learned this without you."
Nevous but curious enough to try once he established that Qadir was a safety point he began to try broad strokes to stay a float on his own. It was a bit tiring as the scent wasn't use to moving in such a way. So he latched from time to time in order to to rest himself. "I'm not cold yet, it was a bit chilly at the begining but now it's rather warm.....You're right about that though. It's surprising they lived to be as old as they are."
The man didn't mind in the least being a point of anchor for the boy. As long as the boy didn't attack him in the water and drag them both down he was quite happy floating about after him as he tested himself in the water. Learning how to swim never seemed like a hard thing to do in Qadir's mind, as long as you didn't let yourself believe you couldn't do it. "You never know what situations you might get thrown into that may force you to learn new things. I have no doubt you would have figured it out on your own one day in the future."
As Qadir watched the boy bob about he couldn't help but smile. The smile didn't last long however, for the fleeting thought of his own child that he had lost many years ago managed to creep into his mind. He wondered for a moment if this would have been like to teach his own boy and if his son would have taken to swimming as naturally as Degas seemed to be.
In an attempt to get the depressing thought out of his head, Qadir casually asked, "At the ball, do you remember just before I had to leave? You asked me a lot of questions. I don't quite remember what they were. Did you want answers for any of those things?"
Degas tried floating on his back for a little humming the Ode to Joy once he figured out that floating was very safe. "I'm sure your right about that....Hm? Questions? Oh Well you seem to have answered the one about you drinking my blood and as for the other one...... Well, I believe you're a vampire. Sometimes you look really sad. I wish you were luckier to have had a good life. Since you're a good person." The scent laughed. "I've not had so much fun since I learned to draw and paint!"
Qadir laughed and watched the boy as he floated about and hummed to himself. "Did I really? I don't remember saying if I was going to drink your blood or not. I wont of course," he added hurridly with a smile, "blood makes me feel sick. I'm a pretty pathetic vampire, huh?"
Playfully, Qadir splashed a bit of water towards the boy, not that it mattered since the child was already wet but he expected a yelp and a retaliation none-the-less. "When do I look really sad?" Qadir asked, giving Degas a perplexed look. He tried to look cheerful all the time, but everyone had their slip-ups. Qadir wanted to reply to the boy that he did have a good life, but something stopped him and instead he replied, "You draw? Would you make something for me sometime? I'll even hang it in my house if you'd like."
"Yeah that is pretty- HEY!" Degas splashed Qadir back as he was spashed. "You look kinda sad when you look like you're thinking.....and people who are happy." The child pushed his hair away from his face and nodded. "I like that idea. I like making things....but don't patronize me.." He mumbled. "I am not very good yet and I know that I am a child even I work very hard. My stuff is not up to Picasso, Degas, or anyone I have ever seen. Perhaps in one day I will suceed. Please be realistic with my art."
Qadir wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "You have no right to tell me what I view as art. I would rather have something you've made me hanging in my home than a pice of art from an artist I don't appreciate. I personally think Picasso is a load of crap and I wouldn't spend even a penny on his worthless slatters of paint. No offense to you if you like him but it's my opinion and my home to hang what I want within it." Of course the man hoped Degas would become a great artist, it seemed like it was something the boy really enjoyed doing or he wouldn't have become upset at the topic. Qadir himself was absolutely terrible with art; he couldn't paint you a snowman in a blizzard if he was getting paid a million dollars.
Degas pouted a bit but nodded satisfied that Qadir seemed to have a strong opinion. Something that the child thought was necessary in order for anyone to appreciate or define thier critisim with art. "Then I'll make something for you then! You are honest." Degas swam to the edge of the water and wiggled his way out of the water climbing up to where thier possessions were.
Qadir followed after him and helped him out of the water, whether he needed the help or not. The lanky man came crawling out after the boy, shaking his hair free of loose droplets of water for a moment before standing and stretching.
The night air was cooler once you got out of the water and Qadir didn't want to see his company catching a cold, so he picked up the jacket carefully folded and placed off to the side and draped it over Degas' shoulder. Sure, it was too big for him, but a gift was a gift. "You take care of this, you hear? It's one of my favorite jackets," he added with a wink.
The coat was fairly simple and black on the surface, but it's gold thread trim and gold silk pockets and inlay were what made it truly special.
Degas sat on an empty stone wringing his hair out a little absent mindedly untill the jacket was placed on his shoulders. He blushed and smiled a bit having not recieved a gift before outside of the foxes.
"Thank you!!!" he hugged Qadir suddenly and briefly excited and unable to express his thanks without such actions. He slipped his hands in it and felt immediately small. "It's hard to believe that maybe one day I might fit this! Thank you very very VERY much Qadir. I promise to take very very good care of it. It's very handsome and cool!" The scent squeed happily while slipping his feet into his shoes. He looked like he was wearing his father's coat being as Degas was very slim and small for what appeared to be his age. He stuck his hands in the pocket and closed his eyes for a moment grinning at the soft sweet touch of silk. "This is real isn't it?! A-Are you sure you want to give this to me?!" Degas asked being a little panicked now, he knew quality when he felt it.
Qadir snorted softly as he went about putting on the shoes he had so hap-hazzaardly tossed to the side when he'd decided to go for a swim. "You don't want my gift then? I'm not in the manner of pretending to give gifts and then turn around to take them back Degas, that's just not my style."
"Of course you can keep the coat, I've got a bunch of others off hanging in my closet just begging me to wear them. Good quality gifts are the best gifts, don't you think?" Looking upwards and cross-eyed, Qadir flicked at his bangs a few times, attempting to get them to fall just they way he wanted them too, and the best part was they listened to him mostly.
Degas frowned a bit. "I'm sorry I'm not use to accepting things I get things from the foxes but they usually do it to keep my occurpied....Thank you...again it is a very nice coat." He smiled at Qadir's attempt to get his bangs back in order. 'What a primper.' he thought to himself picking at his own hair a bit. "I should probably go home now. I'm kinda wet." He looked at the vampire and grinned. "Besides, I don't want to take all your time. I'm a little boy and there are women in this city for people of sophisticated charm." The child knew he might be overstepping his bounds but he was not very good as it was with staying in between the lines. He bowed to Qadir formally before hightailing it, (with a quickly shouted good night) back towards the apartment he lived in. Unknowingly, he left the book of shakespeare behind.
The vampire couldn't help but smile wide at the boy and his words, shaking his head, "You're welcome again. Be safe going home, don't run into any blood suckers now!" the man would add with a joke and a laugh at himself. The boy was adorable and Qadir was sure he'd grow into quite a fine younge man, probably faster than most humans grew if he was as big as he was at only a month. Degas' words only made Qadir more jovial for he found them cute beyond words, and true as well.
As Qadir stood to leave he noticed the book laying off to the side in a forlorn sort of manner. Picking it up. Qadir made a mental note to himself that he'd need to look up the boy's address some day and return to him the collection of stories. Despite his not being tired, Qadir decided to return home for the remainder of the night and enjoy his own collection of books.
{End Documentation}
