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Post by artistgayle on Apr 30, 2008 10:04:34 GMT -5
Ruban Sat in his home gazing out at the lovely garden that stretched out before him, the New Orleans Night was Hot and Sticky tonight
"The Humidity will make hunting easier" he thought as he fixed his black coat after tucking his long stretch of hair into it, most humans found the length of his hair unnerving as if it was impossible for them to grow theirs that long he scoffed
"Stupid Humans"
As he stepped down off the steps of his Victorian Home a sweet savory smell filled his nostrils he breathed deeply and felt the sent run through his body
"Ah...the Jasmines are Blooming Tonight" he said with a devilish smile he loved the smell it had always reminded him of his first kill. He had been a boy of 17 and it was his abusive father. He now Mused on those events as one might muse over a page of Poetry for indeed to him the events had been just that Poetry. He walked across the street wanting to be near that wonderful smell the full moon's light shown down casting a bluish glow on everything around him
"Indeed" He thought "This is Going to be a Good Night"
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Post by morgan on Apr 30, 2008 22:02:57 GMT -5
Morgan's visits to New Orleans were becoming more frequent as her art-dealer set up exhibitions, and she was fast growing to love the city. It was dirty, damp, overgrown and so often beautiful that her heart leapt to her throat. Life is good when you travel, she thought. At night wandering alone around the gardens was hilariously unsafe for a girl like her, but she'd never been one to worry about that and tonight was no exception, so here she made a lilting path through the night with a lust in her eyes. She was in one of her states, a weird obsessive mood where the urge to just drink in all the sights was irrepresible, and she turned a moon-bright face gleefully as she examined the world.
The moonlight put a vagueness on everything, she realised, like walking in a fine silver mist. She could make out plants- shimmering walls of slick, black leaves- and buildings looming further away, softening by the dark into shapes like slumbering animals. She stopped in her stroll with slow distraction, peering at something on the pavement, a bottlecap. It was sharp, focused in her vision and she wondered at that for a passing second before something slightly further drew her gaze, and so she meandered on, curious, wraith-pale in the dusk.
It was then she saw the... thing. A human would have been enough for nervousness, maybe taking a different path but this... this was not human, whatever it was. She could see it clearly, it came out dressed like a man but there were a thousand things wrong, a million tiny differences.
The skin at the inside corner of his eyes is the wrong color
She thought, absurdly, as she ducked into an alley. She breathed too fast, and in short gasps, as she bit her tongue to keep from screaming.
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Post by artistgayle on Apr 30, 2008 23:20:47 GMT -5
Ruban saw the young women even before she saw him a cool calm smile spread across his face she had ducked into an ally-way possibly out of fear and that was when he heard her heartbeat it was racing
"Yes" he thought
"She is afraid" a cold smile lingered on his lips
"Should this be a quick kill or should I play with her a bit?" he looked around "It's such a beautiful night I should Savor her sweetness"
Coming to a decision he shifted then walked fluidly toward her , he might have looked like he was floating a Glorious and Beautiful Angel of Death
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Post by morgan on May 1, 2008 1:16:41 GMT -5
Morgans pupils went narrow with terror as the creature turned towards her, it's feet didn't seem to touch the ground as it approached, smooth as a stalking cat. So this is how the mouse feels. She thought, almost numb. But then, maybe she was wrong, she considered. After all, it, no HE, looked totally normal if a little strangely dressed. There was really nothing about him that should make her so afraid. And yet...
He was beautiful too, she thought. Even in this state she could still find beauty in things. Her dark eyes followed Ruban's slightest motion as he drifted closer, then ranged around looking for an escape route, there was none. I've been noticed, nothing left to do but tough it out. With an intense effort she forced her unwillling legs to carry her out of the alley and into the mans path. The expression on his face struck a new bolt of icy fear into her, something like lust, but worse.
"I... um... Hello"
Talk to it, she thought. If this is just a mugging or something I don't want to be chased down like an animal.
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Post by artistgayle on May 1, 2008 1:52:36 GMT -5
"For such a Beautiful Women you shouldn't walk the night alone....there are dangerous beings about" he said softly his voice like soft velvet
He stopped and stood in front of her looking down the cool calm smile still on his face
*Perhaps I wont kill her right away* he thought
*After all she seems interesting*
An Odd Smell touched his nostrils it wafted off of her and was different then the savory smell of the hot blood flowing through her veins it was something else, the smell had an earthy yet sharp quality he remembered smelling a similar smell in a Gallery
"Are you By any Chance and Artist?" he asked arching a brow curiously
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Post by morgan on May 1, 2008 2:03:50 GMT -5
Relief hit her nearly as hard as the fear had. This didn't feel like a rape, murder or a mugging, not yet at least. But an artist? How could he have known? She looked at her hands, no, they were clean today.
"Well, yes, how did you...?"
Standing this close to him, she found a million other things to fascinate her. His hair reflected the light strangely... his eyes were too bright and clear, his skin too perfect. He wasn't sweating- bizarre on such a humid evening. Confused and feeling slightly intoxicated by his beauty and strangeness, she realised too late that she was staring and quickly looked away, brushing honey-colored hair from her face with a slender hand.
"I'm a painter, just starting out. My name's Morgan Liebmann."
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Post by artistgayle on May 1, 2008 2:16:09 GMT -5
Ruban smiled
*Got her* he thought as he saw her visibly relax he kept up his act
"Indeed...you have the air of a Creative Spirit...I would have guest a Painter" he said He held out his hand in Greeting "Pleasure to meet a Kindred Spirit Miss Morgan I am Ruban Vesto you may call me Ru if you like"
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Post by morgan on May 1, 2008 2:27:56 GMT -5
"Nice to meet you... Ru."
She hesitated, then took the proffered hand. Cold. Suppressing a shudder, she shook it twice firmly, then thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Air of a Creative Spirit... yeah right. She thought glumly, running through a mental list of places they might have met before and drawing a blank. Surely she would have noticed this guy, this mystery creature, at any of the boring gallery openings or artsy parties that she'd gone to recently. A magazine photo? there had only been one so far, and that was tiny. A tiny photo in a nothing-special NY art rag. Probably about ten people in the world had read it. But he'd said something else... kindred spirit?
"Would you be an artist too?"
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Post by artistgayle on May 1, 2008 2:36:39 GMT -5
Ruban smiled as he brought his hand back down to his side
"Yes of course" he said in the same soft voice "However I tend to favor Sculpting myself....I have to much of an eye for detail so mere painting gives me no satisfaction. " He turned his head toward the wind as it picked up slightly filling his nostrils with the sent of Jasmine he breathed deeply then sighed "Ahh The Jasmines are Lovely this time of year...Don't you think so?...It is a Shame they will only Bloom so few times this week...I really loved the smell"
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Post by morgan on May 1, 2008 2:51:55 GMT -5
"mere painting"! what a charmer. She thought venomously. If there was one thing she hated more than artist statements it was the people who were convinced that their art form was the most valuable, the most... Artistic. Still, no use insulting the guy. One doesn't get ahead by slicing up the opinions of every man and his dog- she'd learned that the hard way. And, the smell of jasmine was gorgeous, now that he'd mentioned it. It filled the air and made the night feel heavy and rich, a strange contrast to the clean visual experience she'd been having just a second ago.
She was starting to feel almost comfortable in the presence of this man, alone at night in an out of the way garden. Disturbed by the thought, she considered leaving. But, there he was, and there were still things to look at in his face. Maybe just a little longer, they could talk about flowers, about sculpture.
"Yeah, they smell great. I love that part of New Orleans, the way you don't always have to go to a park to find flowers."
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Post by artistgayle on May 1, 2008 3:11:06 GMT -5
He smiled "Indeed" He looked around "Well then Miss Morgan...might I inquire where you are off too on such a wonderful evening? Surly your not doing anything important and I'm holding you from it?" he asked frowning and looking as if he was concerned
Ruban had always loved acting ever since he was a boy he would dress up in his best clothing and act like a Government official, Even when he was a Pirate Sailing on the High Seas he would often dress up and play a part this was no different this girl was going to be quit entertaining
"If there is nothing of importance you must do I would like to invite you to gaze at the flowers in this wonderful Garden and perhaps later I might show you some of my sculptures?"
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Post by morgan on May 1, 2008 3:27:59 GMT -5
I'm not busy...ah.. but weren't you going somewhere?
Morgan's eyes turned sharp again, curious, suspicious. She was sure he had been leaving, before he'd caught sight of her and followed her. Followed her to the alley where she was hiding- how had he known she was there?- and then she stood and looked at him, was looking right now, because he was attractive? Strange? What? Had it been a misunderstanding, that fear? Suddenly she wasn't so sure. No, this was stupid. He was a sculptor, and he was just trying to pick her up, in a weird kind of way. What alternatives were there? The worlds most polite murderer and rapist? She licked her lips thoughtfully, gazing with dark eyes on this alien-seeming man she was somehow talking to. Politely. About flowers. Her heart was beating fast again, possibly she was making some hideous mistake.
"I mean, sure, yes. I would love to see your sculptures."
A pause.
"Unless that's some creepy euphemism I haven't heard yet.
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Post by artistgayle on May 1, 2008 11:35:38 GMT -5
Ruban let out a laugh it was a melodic laugh and seemed to like it moved in the air like a song
"My dear" he said as the laugh melted away into a smile "I have no other reasons for you to see my sculptures...then for you to see my sculptures. I'm not the type that would degrade myself or you with a euphemism." He shifted to his other leg absent mindedly it looked like a trick of the like one second he was standing one way and now he was standing another it wasn't anything that would alarm anyone most people would just say it was their imagination
"To answer your earlier question I was leaving...however I was just walking to the Garden I have been cooped up inside all day and wished to enjoy the Beauty of the Night...Surly you would understand that?"
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Post by morgan on May 1, 2008 17:51:07 GMT -5
Morgan found herself smiling along with him- he had a sort of natural charm, an easy way of smiling and standing that made her forget her earlier fear totally. Without noticing, she had also stopped mapping the details in his face almost completely. If his eyelashes were too perfectly arranged, if his lips tilted unexpectedly, then Morgan didn't appraise and glory in the alien beauty of these details. She saw his whole face, and breathed the scent of jasmine and other nightly smells, rain coming, damp plants and the dank smells of every city. For once, she was listening to another person with full attention. Well, there's a first time for everything.
"I can appreciate that, though I'm more for walking in the day. Were you working all day?"
She stopped, dismayed. Some people who considered themselves artists hated the implication that they did 'real' work as well as their art... maybe because they had tried and failed to make it their profession. But, the question could go either way. She gazed curiously around the garden- the moon was high now, everything was bright but also colourless, taking on the moons palid glow, including the vampire she was talking to so innocently.
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Post by artistgayle on May 2, 2008 16:46:25 GMT -5
He smiled and folded his arms over his chest he wasn't offended by her comment "Actualy I sleep all day" he said softly "I find the night to be Peaceful...and I find that my mind only truly works at night....so" He shruged "I do all my sculpting after the sun goes down...after my walk of course" he said with a grin the glow of the moon made his teeth seem whiter then they really were he had the perfect smile
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