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Post by morgan on May 12, 2008 21:48:50 GMT -5
"Ruban
My mother is dead, I've gone to New York."
The note was scrawled on the back of a receipt for groceries. It fluttered gently in the draft from under the door.
-
The hospital's light was cool, detached, it gave everything wan, triple-shadows and glinted on the steel fittings of the room. Morgan stood numb, helpless, and the pale light made of her a different person. Her arms were straight at her sides as iron bars, her dark eyes stared ahead and saw nothing. Some time in the last minute she'd forgotten to keep breathing, and the air around her had turned unnaturally still. In the sleeves of her coat her hands were clenched in fists so tight that the blood had gone out of them.
An orderly was talking to her from far away, saying something she couldn't hear: "You can fill out a form now, but you'll need to wait until morning to talk to a consultant and...
Morgan nodded blankly, not looking at him. His voice was like listening to someone underwater, it wavered and changed until it was just a vague noise. Meaningless waves of pressure. She nodded again. There was one bed in the room, as clean and neat as the steel table she'd imagined, and lying in the bed was a frail woman of about forty with her long, grey-blonde hair splayed over the pillow. The chart at the foot of the bed was curled and dog-eared from long use, it listed three different drugs, the relevant doses and a name: Jelena Liebmann. Under that it said "deceased" in a fine handwriting, and gave a time, date and a hundred details. Morgan mentally revised the chart, 'The Corpse of Jelena Liebmann'.
Her mothers eyes were squeezed intently shut, like she didn't want to look at the world any more, and the skin around them was so sunken that her face was almost skeletal. She didn't look at peace, Morgan thought. The orderly had dissappeared at some point, leaving her alone in the room. She moved robotically to the bedside and leaned close over the woman's still face, not quite touching it, and wondering why she couldn't cry. She wanted to, needed to, but her eyes remained dry and clear.
((Sorry, this is clearly not in the street, but I couldn't think of a better place to put it.))
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Post by artistgayle on May 12, 2008 23:11:01 GMT -5
A priest walked into the room, stood in the doorway and bowed his head in prayer "Réquiem ætérnam dona ei Dómine; et lux perpétua lúceat ei. Requiéscat in pace. Amen (Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord; and let perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen)"
When he lifted his head he smiled calmly at Morgan it was a sad smile he then sighed "My Poor Morgan" he whispered and the veils came off her eyes Ruban stood in the door way his hair was somewhat longer then the last she seen he had it tied in a pony tail behind him and it reached down to his lower back. He wore the common Priest wardrobe a sharp black suit with a black and white collar, his skin had color to it, he must have just fed, but something was different about him, the entire left side of his face was severely burned and scared
He leaned against the door frame "This is the reward for a Mortal life" he said softly he was serious yet his voice was comforting "You are born...your forced to suffer through life...and then you die" He walked into the room and looked down at her mother there was something about his manner that made him seem withdrawn and uncomfortable but only slightly he didn't say anything further he just stood their awaiting for her...remaining there if she was to need him.
*Not my Choice* the thought crossed his mind once more
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Post by morgan on May 13, 2008 7:43:06 GMT -5
Morgan looked up as she heard the prayer, watching Ruban enter with hollow eyes. The words of it seemed to drain through her, into a pit somewhere in her stomach where they sat, stagnant. The part of her trained to respond to religion managed to open her mouth, moved her lips in a silent "Amen". Then she caught her breath and waited, anticipating, but the tears didn't come. She swallowed the sob and merely looked at the priest, with her long hair gleaming ghostly pale in the flourescent lighting. Her face was blank and cool, less emotional than the anguished cadaver in the bed.
"Ruban."
The voice was quiet, with the raw edge of those unspent tears. It wasn't a question, and it was Ruban. She wondered vaguely why she hadn't noticed before, maybe it was the strange costume. One pale hand unfurled itself and rose slowly, seemingly of it's own volition, to gesture at the dead woman.
"She has lung cancer, but she's alright, she's in remission." Morgan clenched her teeth, hit in the chest by an amorphous feeling of guilt. Points of light stood on the flushed rims of her eyes. How had she let her mother die alone, while she played around in New Orleans? When she spoke next her voice was desperate, pained.
"How was I to know? How could I know if she didn't tell me? Why, no.. why did she tell me to go? I left her alone all alone in here with the weird lights and the people who don't talk clearly, why didn't I stay? Ruban, I could have stayed but I did paintings instead and... I made paintings of her-"
Her voice broke with a strangled sob that shook her whole body as clear water ran down her face. A droplet fell from her chin and shattered on the pink linoleum of the floor. With a couple of quick steps she ran into Ruban's arms, burying her face in his chest He was warm, and in her grief she didn't notice that there was no heartbeat, as her tears soaked through his shirt. She pressed as close as possible, shuddering from the force of her sobs. After a long time she seemed to collect herself slightly.
"I... thanks, I didn't think..
She mumbled, half into his chest, then raised pained eyes to look at him.
"..but... your face..?"
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Post by artistgayle on May 13, 2008 12:25:26 GMT -5
Ruban stared at Morgan, emotionless, withdrawn, he after all was not of the Mortal race and held no sadness for the dead, if anything he felt uncomfortable around them, as the dead was a constant reminder that he was different. Sometimes he longed for death like the poor might long for things they could never attain. But when she ran into his arms, something he had long forgotten stirred in him as he wrapped his arms around her frail body, his chest felt like it had tightened as a wave of sorrow washed over him, he felt for her, even though he cared nothing about the dead women, Morgan's Mother, she did and the sight of her trying to keep hold of her sanity, trying to keep things together saddened him greatly. He could see the pain in her eyes, the common question of every Mortal when they have to deal with death *Why?* Regardless of whatever she said the question was clear Why? Why did she have to die? Why wasn't I there? Why didn't she tell me?
Ruban sighed still holding her, his mind remembering back to when he first saw death, then her soft pained voice spoke to him
"...but...your face?"
The words jolted him back from the dark plain of his memory in a flash and once again he was back in the room, he blinked and lowered his head smiling sadly down at her, he wanted so badly to take her pain away, it would have been so easy, and she would never again have to feel such pain...but then again he was stubborn and had given his word not to kill her or turn her against her will
"It's nothing " he said softly answering her question
"I took a plane over here...and the flight was delayed so I arrived this morning...needless to say but the sun did a number on me before I was able to find a suitable place to rest until tonight...do not worry Morgan by tomorrow night it will be gone" he tilted his head and smiled trying to lighten the mood slightly he was greatly aware of the dead women laying next to them and his discomfort was increasing as the sent of death grew stronger in his nostrils
"I do believe it makes me look more human...don't you think?"
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Post by morgan on May 14, 2008 7:19:57 GMT -5
Morgan stared at him, shocked. She hadn't even thought about it, but of course it must be nearly impossible to get from New York to New Orleans in a single night, without bookings. When she'd left him the note she honestly hadn't expected him to come after her, that was far more than she could have asked for. She nearly began crying again at the thought that he'd been hurt, looking over his scarred face in obvious misery. That he'd come here, risked an end to his eternal life just to see her, it was too much. She bit her lip, trying to stifle the sob rising in her chest. Gently she brushed his cheek with her fingertips, moving his hair back from the scar. It looked painful.
"You look like the Phantom of the Opera."
The laugh was humourless and too high, her dark eyes brimmed with tears. She blinked them away frantically.
"God, I'm so sorry Ru, about... I mean, I didn't think you would come. Thankyou... I'm glad you did. You- well, just thanks. I can think so much clearer now that you're here. Even if you are dressed as a priest for some reason."
Morgan suddenly saw the discomfort on his face, and looked over at the thing that had been her mother. It seemed different now. Empty. Wherever her mother was, she certainly wasn't here. Her mother would have smiled to see her, and asked if she'd got a real job yet. Her mother would have eaten the chocolates she'd brought until there were only marzipans left, then offered one to every nurse that walked past. The thing in the bed seemed grotesque, a poorly made reproduction of the real person. Ruban could have done a thousand times better in his workshop. She took a deep breath with her eyes closed, trying to steady herself.
"Lets get out of here, you don't need to look at that."
Shivering slightly as she left his arms, she moved from him to pick up her coat, throwing it around her shoulders in a single motion. It was black, and it made her feel dark and solid in this too-pale room. She tried to remember that, it was very important to remember everything so she could paint it later. The only sort of tribute that she could make.
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Post by artistgayle on May 14, 2008 13:04:18 GMT -5
A soft chuckle escaped his lips "Yes I've heard of this Phantom...parhapes if your feeling better later we could go and see his show"
He fallowed her out into the hall and instinctively put his arm around her waist adding a bit of stability to her fragile existence.
They walked in silence for a long moment "Do you have a place we could rest?...I could imagine you could use something to get your mind off of your problems" he said absentmindedly, the smell wafting off her body was intoxicating and took every ounce of will he had not to throw her up against the hospital wall and drain her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and sighed
"No" He thought "Not yet"
He would take what he needed from her later.
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Post by morgan on May 14, 2008 16:52:57 GMT -5
"I guess we could go to my apartment.."
Morgan thought about the tiny room she rented, half of what must be the worst apartment in New York. Her easel wouldn't fit in it standing up while the old sofa-bed she slept on was unfolded. No windows, beige carpet singed with cigarette butts, dry and half-dry lumps of oil paint on every surface. Even cockroaches avoided that room, knowing a gas-chamber when they saw one. She looked at Ruban ashamedly, imagining the house he'd left to follow her here. No, she couldn't bring him home to that dump. And there was the small matter of her house-mate. Benjy could be relied on to insult visitors in every way possible, and last time she'd come home he'd been passed out on the carpet in the hall after re-painting half of it pink. He was her best friend in the world, but bringing home a vampire to meet him could only end in tears.
She leant into Ruban as they walked, grateful for his solid presence, and sighed. There was no-where else that was just hers, maybe they would just have to risk it. That brought up another question.
"Do you have somewhere to stay during the day?"
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Post by morgan on May 16, 2008 17:32:10 GMT -5
((hello? anyone there?))
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Post by artistgayle on May 18, 2008 9:57:01 GMT -5
Ruban nodded "Why yes..I'm staying at the Plaza" he thought for a few moments "I have a few friends in that hotel and they help me with what I need during the day as well as keeping certian people out" He smiled onced they got outside all the lights and the noice of the night, he had been so long in New Orleans he had forgoten what it was like to be in such a city, a vampire could dine and be happy for many a night just feeding off the homeless, yes New York City had to be a Vampire Mecha.
"Shall we take a cab? Or would you like to walk?" he asked her looking down with the same calm smile
(Sorry been sick for the past couple of days)
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Post by morgan on May 19, 2008 6:13:13 GMT -5
((Quite alright my good man, glad you're feeling better))
Morgan shivered in the sudden cold of the breeze outside, nevertheless relieved to be out of the deathly still air in those corridors. Ruban was calming influence, looking at his cool smile she could almost forget why she was here. Almost. The fluorescent lights and silence of the carpark as they crossed it was disconcerting in a part of the city this busy. The tarmac reflected those unflickering lights- with a sheen of rain, it must have fallen while she stood over her mothers body. That too was, of course, beautiful. She wanted to get out of here as fast as possible.
The Plaza. her estimation of her apartment went down another couple of notches. And, she was afraid, she realised. If Benjy were home she would have to tell him...
"Can we go to your room? My apartment's a dump. Let's get a cab."
With the forced focus on the practical of someone ignoring their pain, she closed all the buttons of her coat and pulled her golden hair out. It twisted in the chill wind around her pale face. With an effort, she returned a small part of his smile, moved to the road and hailed a cab. The driver noted her red eyes and glared at Ruban suspiciously. They rolled into the back seat, and in a voice stronger than she was expecting Morgan gave the driver directions.
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Post by artistgayle on May 19, 2008 20:05:41 GMT -5
Ruban stood unmoving as he watched her hail the cab the sight of her ignoring her pain created a feeling of tightness in his chest that he had felt in the hospital room. Sorrow washed over him in a wave tho his face held a calm emotionless mask of someone in deep thought. With a fluid motion he got into the cab and sat down next to her, the wind caught his Priest Coat giving him an air of mystery. He could feel the Cab Driver watching him so he put on a calm practiced smile intended to both comfort as well as creep out the driver.
They road in silence through the traffic of the great City, lights and sounds moved all around them but were slightly deafened by the interior of the cab.
Ruban's mind began to wander...
It had been right after he was first changed and he was just getting used to world around him, Valhalla with her long black hair lead him through the streets of a small City in Florida, he remembered the hot humid weather, the smell of the salty sea air, the feeling of the sandy wind colliding with his body as they walked, the distant sound of the ocean. Everything had a heightened sense to them unlike anything he had ever been able to see as a mortal, but at the same time there was a lack of vulnerablity....
Ruban blinked his eyes coming back to himself as the cab stopped in front of the Plaza, he looked around forgetting where he was for a moment then his sharp eyes feel on the face and name of the Cab Driver's license. He grabbed the handle of the door and opened it stepping out into the cool air of the night, feeling the cab drivers eyes on him he turned "How much is the fair?" he asked softly but politely after he helped Morgan out of the Cab
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Post by morgan on May 19, 2008 21:36:23 GMT -5
Morgan jolted alert again at the sound of the door, she too had drifted off on a memory. Her mother, standing by the stove. Very alive. Steam drifted around her face and she smiled as she stirred a pot of something while the radio played opera, The Magic Flute. She didn't cook much. Hair short that year, she'd pushed it behind her ears in rough bunches. A silver crucifix dangled low over the pot as she bent to taste the food, flashing in the light. Sitting on the faded green linoleum of the kitchen floor, a twelve year old Morgan watched all of these things with wide black eyes. Her fist, still chubby and childish, wrapped a blue no-brand pencil that scribbled frantically. The back of a photocopied sheet of homework. First the eyes, that were scrunched with smiling, showing all the woman's wrinkles in sharp relief. Souvenirs of a hard life. Then the hair, then then crucifix, last a mouth. Morgan's blue lines mapped all these things, then she set the sheet on a pile next to her and picked up a blank one.
"Twenty three bucks" the driver replied
"I'll get it."
She stepped out of the cab with a dull thunk, reeling a little from the shock of returning to the real world, and groped in her purse for money. $32.25 she brought out all her worldly wealth on the palm of her hand. There was probably more in her account, her dealer must have paid her by now. Shrugging, Morgan pressed the lot of it into the cabby's palm, turning with Ruban to enter. By instinct, she reached out and took his hand, holding it too tightly. It didn't even matter that it wasn't warm anymore. The vampire seemed distracted, as lost in thought as she had been. And, she realised with a start, he was still dressed like a priest. She wondered what the staff would think to see the priest going hand in hand with a girl to his room, then decided she didn't care.
"Where'd you get that outfit anyway?"
The walked together through the gleaming foyer, ignoring the forced smiles of the staff they passed. Everything was neat and luxurious, to Morgan it seemed like an alien planet. They reached the elevator and soon were at the door of Ruban's room.
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Post by artistgayle on May 19, 2008 22:01:04 GMT -5
Ruban smiled at her comment "What a Vampire Can't Dress as a Prophet of God?" he said playfully with a soft chuckle, he had said it softly so that only she heard and nodded politely to the door man as they walked inside. He had been used to the luxurious wealth for a very long time for an immortal money just seemed to come easily weather he took it off his victims or bought stock using a fake alias, he found he always had it.
He leaned forward slightly to press the button of the elevator and when the golden doors opened up he stepped inside. "I got the outfit at a near by...Costum shop..I was impressed at how well it was put together considering it's a fake" he said answering her question.
The Elevator let a soft ding and the doors opened up onto the top floor and Ruban stepped off, leading the way to his Suite. After a quick card swipe the two large cream colored doors opened up to an immaculate suite that was 3 times the size of Morgan's apartment. This had to be the most expensive Suite in the entire hotel, most likely reserved for royalty. There was a canopy bed with Satin sheets, large windows that over looked the park on one side and the city on the other. A Spacious Bathroom, a Full Kitchen complete with Liquor Cabinet and a Lounge area with a comfortable Sofa and love seat situated on an exquisite Oriental Rug. There was a bottle of wine in ice next to the sofa
"Please Make yourself Comfortable" Ruban said coolly as he walked into the bedroom area there was an elegant black coffin next to the bed on the floor, not readily viable from the door.
Ruban undid the collar of the priest jacket and pulled it off as he walked it must have been bothering him, he opened a drawer and pulled on a soft white shirt, that resembled the fluffy sleeve shirts of old. He left the top untied and walked back into the lounge area
"Would you like some Wine?" he asked taking two glasses in his hand he opened the bottle with a popping sound.
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Post by morgan on May 20, 2008 3:53:13 GMT -5
"It's good, I was fooled."
Morgan stared around the room, fascinated. It was like a palace. Everything seemed bright, new made and perfect- it must have cost a fortune to stay here for a night, more money than she made in a month. She sighed, quietly, unable to stop comparing her life to Ruban's. Clearly money was no object for him, and she didn't really want to know why that was, though she had a fair idea. She wanted to believe the best of her personal demon, despite all she already knew. Pirate, murderer. Lover. There were no gaps. And tonight she couldn't think straight enough to see him as anything other than the person helping her through her mother's death.
The monster offered her expensive wine from the bar. She thought that was the best idea she'd ever heard, though at this point she would have preferred something stronger. She forgot to be surprised that Ruban was drinking wine, rather than blood.
"Yes, please. I'll just drown her, shall I? She wouldn't approve."
She untied her coat and threw it on a hanger by the door, then walked nervously to a large chair and sank into it. Her eyes were fathomless pools of black, burning in the unnatural pale of her face, and her blond hair was wild from the wind outside. She smoothed it with her fingertips.
"But then, you don't mind, do you? It's no big deal for you."
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Post by artistgayle on May 20, 2008 13:46:28 GMT -5
He poured her both of them a glass and handed it to her, he sipped at the crystal glass while leaning up against the sofa listening to her. He thought about her comment for a few moments then licked his lips "Morgan I'm not a creature with no feelings at all" he said softly "But make no mistake I have no love or feeling for the dead..they mean nothing to me...I'm drawn to the living.." he took another sip of his wine "I know you must grieve for your mother....but do not let it consume you with thoughts about what she would want you to do...or what she would think...that will only serve to give you more pain..she is dead and nothing that you could have done, that you should have or would have done...can alter that...such is the reward of a mortal life" his voice was steady and calm, his cool Grey eyes were fixed on Morgan.
Ruban shifted and got up, he walked across the floor in front of her on hand behind his bag in an old world gentlemen style that no mater how old he got he just couldn't get rid of, and the other on his wine he turned and looked down at her
"I would like to say I could take all of your pain away...but I can't" He said softly "All I can do is give you the ability to forgo the same end as your mother...but" he walked over and leaned against the arm of her chair his back to her, he stared at the rug "You will still greive...it will still be painful mortal or Immortal"
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