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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 0:21:03 GMT -8
"I do not!" Marit denied vehemently. The denial was enough to have her straightening her back, though she hardly towered over anyone she was so short. Instead, she decided to turn slivery eyes on Bea and then on Val. "I have no attraction or affections towards any male, and therefore have no need to think if one is cute."
Lies! They were all lies, I tell you!
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Post by shinigami on Jun 28, 2008 0:32:23 GMT -8
Val wasn't stupid. Marit's denial was so full of passion that it just couldn't be right. Could it? That didn't make hearing it any less painful. He was actually surprised by how it felt -- a nick, uncomfortable, under the skin. "You don't?" he said. His eyes were wider, and he probably had no idea how vulnerable he looked. In fact, it was a pretty safe bet that he didn't. Just like he didn't know he was flushing.
Beatrix watched Marit without blinking. Her own eyes widened, too -- deliberately. "Think you hurt his feelings."
Val was frustrated. He half-turned to Beatrix, but he didn't want to look away from Marit; he had the feeling that if she did, she'd disappear, just coalesce into smoke, as if she'd never been. And he didn't want that. "Argh, you -- just be quiet."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 15:37:58 GMT -8
Marit pursed her lips, deciding it was just best to stop talking. Either way, she'd either hurt his feelings, or she'd get hurt. In fact, she thought if she were to flee at this point, it would be the best for everyone around. He could finish what he'd come to the concert to do, and take his sister home, and she can go back to... back to... Okay, she had really nothing to go back to, but this whole thing was terrifying her and she just didn't know how else to deal with it. She was best at running.
So another sweep of the alley and the people in it with her silvery eyes, she carefully started to edge away. It was a defensive instinct, to never turn her back on someone, nor to make sudden movements. She remembered many times when she'd been foolish enough to do so as a human, and it had never ended well.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 28, 2008 17:58:13 GMT -8
Valentine sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, again. Observe: Now it was even messier, it looked as if he'd stepped into a wind tunnel at some point in the not so distant past.
He was well-named. Valentine, after the medieval feast of lovers, the Christianized word for a celebration that was really quite pagan and didn't really belong on the Christian calendar. The humans just didn't want to let the fun festivities go.
"I'm really sorry," he said, to Marit, and he was so sincere. "About, well." Here, he glanced sidelong at Beatrix, but he didn't really like looking away from Marit -- he had the uncomfortable feeling that she was looking for a way out, a way to escape, and he wanted her to stay. "Look. Can I make it up to you? Maybe -- maybe we could go for drinks -- "
Because she was interesting. Because maybe --
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 18:41:50 GMT -8
"Are you offering to be my personal blood bank," Marit snapped back in response, "Because that's really all I drink, darling."
Why was she still talking? Why hadn't she fled already?
And why did he have to be so damned sincere, and adorable with the tousled hair and owlish eyes? Why was this happening?!
"Nor can you make it up to me," she went on just as callously, though her anger wasn't at him, but the world in general. Fate. Everything. "Fate stuck me with a soulmate, and frankly, I don't want anything to do with it. I don't want a soulmate. I don't want a man dictating my life, and I don't want to be forced to like anyone."
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Post by shinigami on Jun 28, 2008 18:51:04 GMT -8
He -- Marit just broke his brain. The blood drains -- ha, ha -- from his face. He looks as pale as a ghost; as pale as a barn owl; as pale as a piece of bone. He doesn't look very pleased. Not at all.
Stricken. Val looks stricken and then grave and grim but still somehow stricken. Just watch the play of emotions in his eyes --
When her tirade was done, he said: "You're a... I thought -- " By supreme effort, Val managed to stop himself from babbling any further. He felt sick, but he still wanted, he still looked at her and felt his heart leap as if it were seeing an old friend, which was stupid, because his stomach was a stone.
"You're a vampire." He said it, stoically. Then: "Beatrix, get in the car." His voice was calm. Really, he was altogether too calm now.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 18:59:20 GMT -8
Ah, so he finally was getting it. So then why did the look on his face send a stabbing pain to her heart? She shouldn't care what he thought. He'd just proved how untrustworthy men were. Showed her another reason why she should never get close to another man.
"By no choice of mine," Marit said quietly, taking another step forward, but her eyes continued their staring as if trying to shoot daggers. "But I am what I am. Deal with it or leave; it makes no difference to me."
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Post by shinigami on Jun 28, 2008 19:07:13 GMT -8
Val swallowed.
And he also didn't move. He didn't know what to say, but he didn't move. No; he kept gazing at Marit steadily, as if he was actually calm, as if he could actually be calm.
Now, Beatrix. Beatrix had watched this exchange; had watched it, understand, from her spot, her chosen place -- and she hadn't said a single damned word. Beatrix was still a little behind Valentine, and when he told her to get into the car, she'd quirked an eyebrow and made an are-you-kidding-me face.
Her eyes were really dark. An impossible kind of dark. They didn't reveal much, but they didn't seem emotionless, either -- a neat trick. And she decided to, er, break the tension: "Uhm, before I go, can I have your autograph? Please? Since this is your last performance and all?"
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 19:17:23 GMT -8
Marit was drawn out of her staring match to look at the girl behind him. Wow, she sure did have a way of breaking up the tension. She had the sudden urge to laugh, but quickly stifled it, merely raising an eyebrow as a sign of her amusement. What could it hurt?
She made sure to steer clear of Val as she passed, so that she would actually be in a proximity to give his sister an autograph. She didn't usually... simply because she tended to be gone as soon as the concert were over. Hiding... But she didn't see the harm.
"Got a pen and something to sign, then that would be a yes," she said, just as quietly as usual, but a lot kinder than when she'd been speaking to Val. She also didn't have the cold staring going on either, since she didn't view the girl as a threat like she did the other.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 28, 2008 19:26:55 GMT -8
Marit steering clear of Val was all too obvious, given the alley's less-than-wide sense of place. Beatrix said: "Sure do! I've got a sharpie in my bag and -- well, could you sign the shirt? And maybe a scrap of paper for a friend? They'll never believe it."
As she spoke, she got out the promised sharpie and a little swath of more-or-less pale fabric she just happened to have instead of a receipt or anything, and she handed the sharpie to Marit, pointing out a spot on her shirt, just above the left breast.
At which point, Val grinds out: "Beatrix, get in the car. Now."
See, Val dropped his head a little as Marit looked away from him -- as if the force of her gaze was really all that was keeping him steady, keeping him straight, and now that she's pretty much abreast of him, but just -- staying as far back as she can. From him.
He just didn't know what to do. And Val wasn't used to that.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 19:40:56 GMT -8
Marit raised a conspiratorially eyebrow to Bea, pretending to ignore Val. In truth, she was more aware of him than anything else, but she just had the sudden urge to torture him. So she took the sharpie and wrote a verse of an unrecorded song of hers and then signed her name with a flourish. Then she took the scrap of fabric and took her time in signing that as well. Ah, the torture. She kinda liked it.
Once she was done, she slowly capped the pen and then offered it to Bea. "There you go. All set. Unless you want me to sign something else? Or if you had another request?" Oh, she was finding the time-taking so amusing.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 28, 2008 20:02:49 GMT -8
A muscle in Val's jaw jumped. The torture was going off splendidly -- he was getting all flustered. Well, no. The truth was he was already flustered.
He growled: "Car. Now."
Beatrix bit her lower lip, and then, while taking the sharpie back, pretty much pounced on Marit with a hug. "Thank you," she said, into the vampiress' hair. And she whispered -- very quietly, hardly more than a breath of air, and even then it was almost just a dream of sound: "Don't physically hurt him if you can help it." And then before Val could intervene any further she stepped back. "I think... I'll go wait in the car."
And then she left the alley.
And then it was just Val and Marit, again.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 20:15:44 GMT -8
Marit just about jumped out of her skin when she got hugged. Dear god, the hugging. But it was okay cause it was over now... but then the girl was gone... and Oh, Dear GOD, they were alone again. She was alone... with him.
Panic settled over her insides, but outwardly the only sign was the tensing of her shoulders, and the shallower breath. She really didn't know what to do anymore. She didn't know whether to leave, to stay, to talk, to stay silent. Hell, she was about at the point where she didn't know up from down.
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Post by shinigami on Jun 28, 2008 20:21:01 GMT -8
Around the corner, and quite a few car lengths from the alley's dark mouth, Beatrix leaned against the building's side. Really, she looked like a fall of light; a stark contrast to the general darkness. Beatrix held something up to the light.
... A strand of hair, pale and silvery. Insurance. Just in case.
---
Valentine shook his head, slightly. Some of his tension ebbed. Some of it. And he reached out for Marit. "Did you mean what you said?"
His voice was soft; soft as a kitten's fur; soft as incense smoke.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jun 28, 2008 20:24:41 GMT -8
Marits hands curled slowly into fists, the nails biting into her skin hard enough that she felt skin give way and blood start to flow. What was she doing here still?
"Which part?" she said tightly, still refusing to turn. "There's so much I've said, it's hard to really keep track."
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