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Post by lily tomlinson on Aug 1, 2008 23:28:17 GMT -8
"If you don't like it, why don't you do something else - something you want to do?"
"Think - what makes you happy? What makes you calm?"
"Don't sell yourself short, Marit."Why had those words gotten to her so easily? Why had they crept beneath her skin like an unknown fire, settling there, burning her insides until she could no longer sit around and sulk? That boy.... Valentine... he'd really gotten to her. Not just with his words, but his sincerity, his pure nice guy aura. And he'd made her think. Really think about her life for the first time since she'd first been turned. What could she do? What would make her as close to happy as she could be? It hadn't come to her at first, but had merely been a chance encounter. Walking past an old orphanage for those of the Nightworld children, she'd seen the lonely, disenheartened faces of those little ones. The desolation, the hard eyes that had seen too much for ones so young. It reminded her of what could have been if her own daughter had made it. To live in such an unloving environment, with no one to depend on, no one to love them. And an idea had formed. She'd returned each day, as the sun set to spend time with them, to read to them, talk to them, sing to them, and would never leave until just before the sun rose. Every night, she never failed to return and while at first they had not trusted her, had tried to drive her away, when they finally realized she was really there to stay they had begun to cling to her, to bond. And she found a part of her heal, in being able to love these children and make up for what she'd lost as a human. She felt.... a little more happy, she could say. Like she'd finally found a place to belong, a meaning for her extended life. Tonight was no different than the others, sitting on the floor of the orphanage, surrounded by werewolf and shifter cubs, and little lamia, witches... Some even chose to sit in her lap or play with the silvery strands of her hair as she sang a bedtime song to them. She even found herself smiling for once. A real one, without sarcasm or deprecation. And she even found she liked it better singing without accompaniement. And her sensitive hearing was understood here, for the kids were the same way, and preferred to just listen to her as they slowly nodded off. And when they did, and the singing was done, she would always carry each one to their beds and tuck them in with a goodnight kiss upon their foreheads and promises to return the next night. Marit, the 'Creepshow Character', had disappeared for a short time, leaving the media and fans behind. Instead, for now, the kids called her Mommy Marit, and it was something she found pleasant... to her surprise. ((Bedtime song= www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6xi7VY8iDM ))
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Post by shinigami on Aug 2, 2008 0:25:27 GMT -8
He disliked the orphanage. Maybe because of its name: Redfern. What that name stood for. He knew, however, and very well, just how important such places were. Neither of his siblings had come from an orphanage like it; maybe it would've been better if they had; if they'd already known everything about their heritage.
Val disliked the orphanage -- not the children within it. He was there for a late delivery, something from Wren Silver -- of course. The woman nominally in charge of the orphanage -- probably a vampire, eugh -- let him do with the boxes what he would. And what he would was put them away in storage.
But he heard singing. Woman's voice. Familiar, cast a line -- on the end of the line was a hook; the hook found its home in his heart, tugged him; grabbed him. Reeled him in. He found himself outside one of the children's rooms, just leaning against the wall, listening.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Aug 2, 2008 0:54:07 GMT -8
By the time she'd finished her song, a new one she'd found herself unable to not write, all the children around her were fast asleep. Her first action was to disentangle the ones from her lap or those who had there hands threaded through her long hair and set them gently in their beds. Their weight was nothing to a vampire's strength, but she still took care to tuck each one in, place a light goodnight kiss on their forehead. Each movement was the gentlest she'd been in centuries, gentler than she'd ever thought she could be.
"Mommy Marit," the last one tucked in mumbled. Azra, a little 3 year old lamia boy who'd lost his parents to Seth Marquis, was only slightly awake, and his hand clenched around one of her fingers as if he didn't want her to go. "You'll come back 'morrow night won't ya?"
There was such a fear in his eyes that even the normally icy Marit was touched, a sting going through her heart at thinking that all these kids had no place to go to, no one to call their family. She'd have to change that.
"Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetie," she mumbled back. ruffling his hair lightly.
"Lov'ya," he mumbled again, and before he drifted off again, she could have sworn she heard a little 'Mum.'
Oh deary, the kids were getting to her.
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Post by shinigami on Aug 2, 2008 12:56:46 GMT -8
Now that the song was done the woman's voice was low and so too was the little boy's. Valentine wasn't a vampire. He didn't have a sharper than average sense of hearing; if anything, because he spent so much time in loud clubs and pubs, with music playing right near his ears, he had sensitive hearing insofar as occasionally it decided to protect itself in advance and not pay attention to the tiny sounds. But he was a witch: tiny sounds could mean a lot.
All this to say, he couldn't make out more than two words in every twenty, and there weren't quite so many words spoken in all. Still, he found himself smiling, faintly, even while his forehead creased with worry and his silvery eyes became kind of grim.
Because it ... Had to be Marit. He didn't think she was preying on the children. The thought didn't cross his mind, but it would in another moment. He just waited for her to walk out -- if it was her.
If it wasn't, he'd be really, really embarrassed.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Aug 2, 2008 13:54:11 GMT -8
Once the last kid was tucked in, Marit surveyed the room for a long moment with sad eyes before turning quietly to leave. But once the door was open she froze upon seeing Val, and swore she felt her heart stop for a moment.
Oh, jimminy crickets, trouble was abound!
But luckily she only looked shocked for a moment before she composed her face back into it's usual mask of indifference. Pursing her lips, she swiftly closed the door behind her and brushed past him without a word.
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Post by shinigami on Aug 2, 2008 23:28:57 GMT -8
He lost all hint of game as soon as she walked through the door. He just didn't know what to say; his tongue felt heavy; he was torn between disgust and --
Maybe he'd been mistaken. Maybe he'd been wrong. The pale-haired vampiress shut the door swiftly, flicked a cooling glance toward him, and walked onward; he should just let her. But...
But, no. He remembered what he'd seen when she forced it (and wasn't that close to rape?) into his mind. He remembered what he'd felt. He just wished he could remember what happened next; he just wished that he hadn't passed out.
"Wait, Marit," he said, pushing off of the wall to follow her. The decision was deliberate. He wasn't unconscious of what he was doing.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Aug 2, 2008 23:33:34 GMT -8
Marit steeled herself inwardly, trying very hard to keep cool in his presence and slowed to a stop. "If you have something to say," she said in a soft voice, but no colder than usual, "do it quietly. The children are sleeping."
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Post by shinigami on Aug 2, 2008 23:48:24 GMT -8
"I want," at which point the silver-eyed (witch) man seems to have the need to clear his throat. He clears his throat, then lowers his voice with a covert glance toward the dormitory-style room. His lanky strides have brought him abreast of Marit. "I just wanted to say..."
He trails away. There's silence for half-a-second. What was it he wanted to say? Right. He wanted to say: "...About the other night. Did... I'm sorry things went that way."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Aug 6, 2008 17:50:01 GMT -8
"Let's just blame it on Fate and forget about it, then," Marit said with a slight shrug of one of her shoulders. "Is that all?"
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Post by shinigami on Aug 8, 2008 12:40:15 GMT -8
Val raises an eyebrow. And he stops walking. The box he's meant to deliver slips a little and he hefts it again. He's strong. Just not as strong as a vampire. Witches are very human creatures. It wasn't difficult for a vampire to break one. It hadn't been difficult for Marit to grab Val and throw him up against the wall of that alley, for instance.
"Is that all?" That? That was smooth. It was. This? Less so. "Just -- blame it on Fate. Forget it."
His voice is as flat as a sheet of paper. There's smoke in his voice, but he doesn't clear his throat. And where there's smoke...
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Post by lily tomlinson on Aug 8, 2008 12:48:10 GMT -8
Marit turned, just slightly, to give him a look. That look? Well, to someone who knew her very well it would be perplexed, but to anyone else, just calculating. Like a predator sizing up its next meal, but really she was just confused as the the tone in his voice. Odd how one man could make her feel so guilty.
"You sound like you just swallowed something painful," she said, eyes narrowing.
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Post by shinigami on Aug 9, 2008 1:17:19 GMT -8
Marit turns to look at Val, and he doesn't know her very well. He doesn't know that the look she narrows on him is perplexed. He knows so little about her. He can feel how little about her he knows in this ache in his bones that's started up. There's this: He looks back at her, but his gaze is distant. There's a remove there, as if he were seeing her at the same time he wasn't. As if he was only looking at the spirit of her, or only looking at the body of her, but not the whole. He runs his fingers back through his hair, then forward through his hair, finally rubbing his face, closing his eyes so his eyelashes tangle and make him look -- briefly -- younger.
"I did swallow something painful. Don't you remember?" He hesitates, but the truth is this -- Val? is actually angry. Helplessly angry, but angry. "Before I blacked out -- what you showed me? How should I forget that?"
Beat. "How should I forget -- " a pause. Then, he chuckles: low, rich, mellow. "Forget Fate? What do they teach you vampires? Anything? You can't forget Fate. Because once Fate has intruded in on your life then Fate has remembered you. But if that's what you want to try."
"I just think it's stupid." The anger drains away, at least a little. And Val isn't the type of man who gets violent when he's angry. He doesn't seem to know what to do with the extra energy, the passion. "And I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Aug 18, 2008 7:55:37 GMT -8
"If you had any sense of decency, what I showed you would keep you away," Marit hissed quietly, careful not to let her anger wake the children. "You should have realized just why I'm sca- er, opposed to being with a man. I have no interest in having a soulmate. I have no want of it. F*ck fate. I don't need it's interventions."
"And I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
Marit pursed her lips at that comment, her eyes a molten silver, glinting in the dimly-lit hallway. Some would say she was actually touched by that statement. Others would think she was her usual angry self. She wasn't really angry through all of this. She wasn't angry at him. She was just scared, and confused, and really out of her element. And she really didn't know any other way to act than her usual cold self. It was self-preservation, an animal instinct, you could say. To flee or fight when she felt threatened. But it was Fate that made her feel threatened and wary. Damned Fate.
"You'd think after the alley incident, you would have learned to avoid me."
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Post by shinigami on Aug 18, 2008 21:56:36 GMT -8
"Look," he begins, and his voice is louder; still shaped by passion; still made hollow by it. He sends a quick glance toward the kid's room, then tilts his head in a walk-with-me-this-way-so-we-can-finish-this-argument-and-not-wake-up-the-kids sort of way, and hopefully she'll walk with him.
"Look," he says, again. "You can't -- " Another glance toward the children's room. Val can be impulsive, and yes, occasionally brash, at least when it concerns people he loves -- not that he LOVES yet, necessarily, but -- moving right along: He can be impulsive and do things he regrets, but yelling " -- fuck Fate -- " isn't going to be one of them. "Usually Fate fucks you. Honestly, if I could pick any soulmate in the world," he says, earnestly, trying to reassure her, "you're just not my type."
And failing, because he's an idiot man. "I'm sorry about trying to -- I'm not very good with women." His eyes crinkle, faintly. "But even after that alley incident -- I mean, shouldn't we -- try to be -- friends, at least?"
Lame. His roommates would mock him. His sister would mock him. His brother would mock him. His father would shake his head sorrowfully.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Aug 27, 2008 13:55:40 GMT -8
"Friends with a vampire?" Marit said with a raised eyebrow. She glanced back at the doorway to the children's room, before making a motion as if to grab his hand and drag him away. She stopped herself at the last second, instead turning on her heal and assuming he would just follow. If he woke those poor kids up, he'd have hell to pay.
"Are you sure about that? You really want to be friends with a blood-sucking, evil leech?" It wasn't any secret that he disliked her kind.
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