When Socrates entered the room, not for the first time and the frequency of which was unknown to Dallas; the human slid back until he was sitting up with his back against the plush pillows and head board. His gaze fell away from her as something inside of him cracked open and swallowed all the terrible thoughts and visions his inner demons plagued him with. The very sight of her moved him to exile the horrors and replace them with something quite different. His inner cheek was gnawed on surreptitiously to make a divot in the corner of his mouth as she placed the tray bearing the morning feast over his lap and as his green eyes depended on the meal to stare at it. His stomach rolled with queasy aversion at the sight of food, the delicious smells only making his gall rise higher. His lips parted to say something but he could not find his voice and as she hinted at his need for sustenance a faint something that might have been a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. He could not find it himself to disappoint her and so, as she spoke of the climate and the birds that were cheered to odes suited to the gods themselves, he picked up a fork as if for the first time and prodded at the food. He ate a little bit of everything, his expression speaking for him at how delicious each morsel was, but he consumed hardly any of the total before he lifted the tray and set it aside, unable to ingest another bite. As he placed the tray on the night-stand he claimed a glass of orange juice which he drank as his eyes traveled around the room in an attempt to place where he might be. The fineries were all of a high quality which the very molding, the deeply grained wood door, and lividly rich colors of the room quantified. Without yet having spoken a word; while in his mind he had been quite the chatterbox; he set the empty juice glass down then slid out of the bed and went to the window to peer out over the broad shelf of the sill to the city's vast vista beyond. His head canted slightly as he gazed beneath his quixotically arched brows at the familiar sights and his lower lip tucked thoughtfully beneath his row of straight upper teeth as he marked from that view the site he was scheduled to film on that afternoon. With a swivel of his lean frame the actor's eyes targeted the digital clock on the dresser to mark the time. His gaze slid towards the closet which his strides carried him to thereafter and opening the door; he found all of his best clothing there. Meccan had delivered Dallas's entire wardrobe (minus any and all bondage wear) to Delavar's place by a courier. Dallas chose an outfit (he was clad in boxers and a wife beater at the moment) and then went to the dresser where he pulled open the drawers until he found a clean tank-top, socks, and boxers. With a smile he breezed by Socrates whose cheek he kissed and side his hand squeezed briefly before he withdrew from the room with his clothes in hand. Peering around every corner and doorway; he found his way to the upstairs bathroom, which he entered to proceed with the ritual of taking a shower. He breathed in the fragrant body washes as he lifted each bottle until he chose the one he most appreciated (it smelled like melon and freshness) at what time he shed his underwear then turned the shower on. Dallas believed for the time being that he was at a bed breakfast of some kind which Socrates herself perhaps ran. Whatever menagerie his mind conjured to detach himself from the memories he had not the faculties to cope with; there was a definite air of routine to his actions. In his mind's scope he spoke to Socrates of all the things he wished to say; 'Thank you for the delicious breakfast, beloved Socrates.' 'Why yes the birds could lift the heart of the most dejected soul.' 'Is this place yours? Why it is as wonderful as the coffee shop in Juvare.' 'Oh my, look at the time, I really must get ready to go to work. I will be home a little after midnight. Hey why don't you come to the shoot with me?'; when in fact he had not uttered a single word to her. In his thoughts; he played house so to speak. When he stepped into the bathroom to close the door around behind him, Delavar appeared in the hallway to meet up with Socrates as she trailed after Dallas. He had intentionally placed Dallas in a guest room wired in to the Manor's security room and had watched Dallas and Socrates since the human had awakened from his long sleep.
"Dr. Raaval Escobarr and I have been watching Dallas since he woke. Dr. Escobarr suggests that we permit him to continue with whatever it is he is doing and see where it leads him and I agree with his analysis. If you are not up to following Dallas around as a proxy of his shadow, I shall assign Kusar to act as his bodyguard and to report to us. If Dallas intends to leave the house, and it is Raaval's opinion that he shall, the limo shall be made available with Kusar as his driver. If you choose to follow him, Kusar shall act only as his driver and a protector to you both should you need him. Is this well with you?"
Dr. Escobarr was an Imperium Sensa vampire who excelled as much at his mental advancements as he did as a mental healer. Dallas was only the second human he had ever treated inasmuch as he was a pro-kaanan through and through. As a favor to Delavar; Raaval had consented to treating Dallas, whose background Del had informed him in detail of. Socrates had been introduced to the vampire the night Dallas had been returned home, a clear indication that Delavar had not intended for Socrates to fail in a plan which had been vague to her, but which had been perfectly organized by Lord Vorego and Meccan. Delavar expected Socrates to question him concerning Meccan and the arrangements to liberate Dallas by and by and was prepared to answer any concerns he was certain she had.
When Dallas finished showering, he dried his hair with a dryer he found in the exquisite bathroom, dressed himself, and retreated from the sparkling tiles, fixtures, sinks and Roman-like shower and tub to amble out into the hallway. By the time he encountered Socrates again, Delavar had retreated, and taking Socrates hand in his (he believed that Socrates had cheerfully consented to join him at work, whether she had or had not) he led her towards the stairs after finding his way there, down the flight of steps, and then seeing the entrance he made a beeline for the door. It appeared that whatever reply Socrates had given Delavar, Dallas had decided for her that she was coming with him. Without he looked perfectly balanced, while within he was a schizophrenic mess who felt safe with only one soul; Socrates. When he walked outside, he expected to find a limo (as it was what he was accustomed to) and lo and behold, there it was! Kusar got out immediately and opened the door to Dallas and Socrates then closed it after them when they had climbed into the car. When they arrived at the site, which was closed off by ropes, Dallas flummoxed the directors, actors, and many others a film required for the making when; not speaking a word, he communicated that Socrates was his guest by every gesture he made, namely by pulling her along with him everywhere he went. Believing he introduced her to everyone; poor Socrates was left to introduce herself to the camera crew, actors, producer, director, and assistant director. The morning site was an alleyway deep in the Met in an alley, while the rest of the shoot would take place a block away in the underground. The familiar hustle and bustle of the locational shoot was ignored by Dallas as he got into costume and sat for the prosthetics and makeup that would transform him into a helluva handsome vampire. That done, he escorted Socrates with him arm in arm to the alleyway, where he showed her to a seat and a headset where she could see them film and hear their lines. When it came time to deliver those lines, Dallas finally made his voice known. He was in fact better than he had ever been before as an actor, and he was a very skilled actor already. Everyone noticed how genuine he was, how in sync with his character he was, how he had become the ancient Volucris Vampire; Prospero Raban. When he responded to the wings he did not sport but which would be added via CGI, one could almost see the wings spread, shiver or shift as he acted his part or beat the air when he took flight by wire. So the day went, and the director even asked Socrates if she would like to play an extra when they shot on the street.
In the meantime, the crew made Socrates feel at home. They ordered take out blood for her from the best blood bar in the Met, they showed her the cameras and the booms, the cranes and pulleys which worked the wires that gave flight to Dallas's character, offered her choice of a costume to keep as a souvenir of the film, and otherwise spoiled her rotten and treated her with courtesy. Occasionally the two directors would ask her for tips on how a vampire would react to this or that. They were thrilled to have an actual vampire on the set. When they broke for dinner the director Romar Avante asked her if she would consider taking a job as a vampiric consultant.
After dinner, and as it was approaching dusk; the director, Romar asked Socrates discreetly if Dallas was all right. The entire crew found it odd that Dallas never spoke unless he was acting. Yes, everyone noticed. They all also noticed that neither Argenta or Meccan had accompanied him. Meccan was supposed to have called Romar at the crack of dawn but had gotten tied up by some very dangerous business connected to Argenta's death. He was faced with a mob tribunal of sorts which demanded to know everything about the syndicate Lord's murder, demanding proof of who had done the deed. Meccan himself was suspected as the culprit of the deed. The security film was still being doctored by the Sedition's people so Meccan had to stall on showing them the digital recordings. He had the excuse that the police had them, a story the police backed up inasmuch as the commander and half of the force was in Prince Rahad's pocket. Thus was Meccan unable to inform Romar of Argenta's death at the hands of a yet unidentified killer. He was also supposed to inform him of Dallas's new residence and explain to the man that Argenta had lost his mind and Dallas had suffered terrible traumas at Argenta's hands that would delay filming. Well, it seemed that in that Meccan was mistaken inasmuch as Dallas was perfectly capable as an actor, it was life and reality he was in conflict with. The moment Kusar had informed Del of where Dallas had directed him to drive, by pointing at streets, Delavar had attempted to call Meccan, but his voice mail was all he got. Meccan was busy taking care of Argenta's affairs in light of his death. If Socrates was disinclined to share any information with the director, and thought to tell Romar to call Delavar concerning the details of Argenta and Dallas, he would receive the necessary information from Baron Vorego. As an assassin and spy for the Sedition, Delavar was a ghost; as a businessman and member of the vampiric aristocracy, he was very well known.
It was half past midnight by the time Dallas and Socrates returned from a long day's filming. When Dallas, who was exhausted, retired to sleep for the night, after seizing a lusty kiss from Socrates; Delavar met his dear kindred to question her about the day she had shared with Dallas. Dr. Escobarr was present when Delavar sat down with his blood son/daughter in the living room. "How did he seem? Has he spoken to anyone yet?" he began by asking.
(assume any questions which you believe Del would ask her for Soc to answer as you need to spork)
It was quite unexpected that he nibbled and picked at what little of the feast he chose to, but after he gulped down the juice that was of an orange nature and steeled himself away to the window to look out it, the girlie boy sitting at the actors bedside would slowly frown in consternation. Thinking perhaps the food either tasted like horse manure or she over cooked it all, she would lean forward where the tray had been set to peer down at the sides with a wry eye. Picking up the utensil he had used to eat that little bit of food, she prodded at it here and there before she leaned even further down to sniff at it. It didnt smell all that bad she thought but, then again she had a strange sense of smell. Like she could smell dirt on people, for instance. Weirdness. As he glided his graceful self back across the room to closet where he shuffled through the apparel until his mitts found what he had been looking for. Black eyes watched the movements with great curiosity as Dallas went about gathering himself clothing, searching for the undergarments to go with the outer wear and then passing by her again to take the time to grace her now inflamed cheek with his lips and made butterflies flutter in her belly from his hand squeezing her side. She had not said anything while he had ate after realizing he did not wish to speak. Of course how was she to know at the time that it wasnt a case of Dallas not wanting to speak, it was something else entirely. However when he moved away to leave the room she would stiffen, standing quickly to call after him as to where he was going. When he did not turn or answer her, her brows drew together in concern. What was he doing? Thinking as she moved out of the guest room Delavar had given Dallas to stay in for the time, into the hallway where she would lean against the wall as she watched the back of his head and how his head curled ever so slightly near the nape of his neck swing freely as he walked briskly towards the bathroom. She missed curling her fingers in that hair. She missed the way his hair smelled first thing in the morning, and yes she had been with Dallas every second since they had taken him from the mansion. Well, every second that she wasnt with Delavar. For she herself had refused sleep just so she could keep both eyes on the human as he slumbered, fearful that he might disappear if she didnt. Half curled in his bed where she would prop herself up in his pillows along the headboard with one hand in those gorgeous locks and the other propping up her head, just to watch him sleep. Mindful not to make a peep those couple of days he had been near comatose like. As she leaned for a moment on the wall after walking a little further till he begun to close the door to the bathroom behind himself, she would lean against the wall again with both hands palm side flat on the cool textured surface. That would be about the time that Delavar strangely became present with that silent way he could be to relate things to her that would unsettle her more so then she already was at Dallass quietness. She waited until Delavar was done to speak, and her voice was not as sure sounding as she would have liked it to be as she stood on her tippy toes to look around Delavars side at the closed bathroom door, Ill follow him to the ends of the world, beloved Sire. She said it bluntly, as if Delavar should have known better. It was the truth. She had only ever felt something like what she did now for Dallas once before, a long, long time ago. But had not been so powerful and consuming as this. She vaguely remembered those trusted friends and servants her Sire kept close from before. Kusar sounded familiar but only if she thought really hard on the name and forced herself to recollect that darkened period of her life, and even then she drew blanks. It was better that way she supposed after a few minutes of thinking and then sighing in mild defeat as she slipped closer to fold her arms around Delavars left arm, and strum her digits over the inside of his hand. As if petting from the inside of his wrist to the ends of his fingers. Resting her head on the side of his arm, she would nuzzle gently into him as she asked him hesitantly, Tell me you know nothing of the vampire that worked for Argenta. Tell me you didnt make some plot with him in regards to Dallas, to let us escape with him as oppose to flat out rescuing him the old fashion way. Guns a blazing. Although she knew better. Delavar was sharper then a tack. Of course he knew before shed ever gone with the rapist and the vampire that she thought worked for him, that her Sire had known this would happen. Or maybe he had set this all up? Lie to me, I will believe you, she said, and her fingers were tugging on that soft fur over his chest as her head turned upwards and there somewhere in those eerie black pools was the threat of tears. She wanted to know the truth but that didnt necessarily mean it was what she needed to hear. Delavars girlie boy of a daughter was not in the best of conditions either but she too hid that fact very well behind the puppy dog eyes she gave her Sire and this constant need to cuddle with him. She was terribly clingy to Delavar now, way more then she had ever been in their long odd and complicated relationship. Though Delavar wouldnt really get to answer her those questions she posed to him, as fragile as they were, for Dallas was already done with his shower and coming out of it. The feminine boy would slip from the older vampires side, unlinking her arms from around his and turning her face away from his chest where she had huddled herself under his arm to move back along the wall, walking in a line with her left hand trailing two fingers along the wall before Dallas caught up to her to take her hand in his, leading her to the stairs. Dallas, whe-hey, careful these can be steep if your not watching yourself, she said as they made their ways down the stairs and then after a moment of looking around, out the front door. The nervousness in her from Dallas not saying a word to her yet, it grew with each passing second, but she didnt comment on it from what Delavar had told her of his condition. However she would not have more then a moment to think on just what she could do for Dallas then they were already in that limo and down the road before her own head caught up to her. Dallas, she said, turning to him in the car where they may or may not have been seated close, but somehow something would distract either him or her and she wouldnt get a reply from him. Not the vocal type anyways. Up until Delavar had caught her in the hallway she had started to think it had been something she had done. It was only a fraction of assurance that Dr. Escobarr had related all that he had to Delavar and her. But she would go wherever it was Dallas wished them to be, eyes turning upwards and then back over her shoulder to where Delavar had been just a minute ago but now there was no sign of her Sire. The ride to the shoot felt as grueling as hard labor in a field with a shovel and the sun beating down on your brain, or to her at least it felt that way. In the silence that stretched between Dallas and his vampiric drag queen, she held her breath. Waiting for him to say something, anything at all. Even a simple hello would have been enough to ease the slowly building anxieties in the femme by the humans side where she curled both of her arms around him to hold him against herself. Her chin resting a top his head as she cooed, staring out the car window, petting the back of his head. On one hand she was happy just to hold him, just to be there with him right now. To know that he was alive and well, for the most part, and that he even still cared about her at all if any. However the other part of her was becoming all worked up in knots at how Dallass voice had left him. She felt one of his best qualities was his voice so when she did finally hear him speak when they had arrived on set and he had donned his wardrobe, she had gasped. Loudly. The wooden chair she had been sitting on her left leg in almost toppled sideways on account of just how startled it made her to hear his voice again. From the gaffer she was asking how they were able to get up so high on the scaffold to secure those lights so well, those big black eyes would shoot to Dallas and for awhile the kindred would seem completely absorbed in the movements of the actor being filmed in the latest movie. For awhile until she was snapped back to the scene when the gaffer nudged her elbow, asking for the sixth time what was the matter. Oh, nothing, she told the youth quickly, getting up from her chair as she was offered a cup of freshly chilled blood from the lead coordinator, nothing at all.. Sipping slowly at the metal handled cup, she smiled when the lead jabbed the gaffer about trying to hustle information out of Dallass gal and then promptly ordered him to go cement himself at the bottom of the nearest lake. Of course that had all the grip boys and girls in an uproar of laughter. Spreading, for laughter was more contagious then a sneeze or cold, the aprn on duty giggled and sauntered on over to the commotion, clipboard and stethoscope in hand. In case someone should get injured. Someone said something about meat sweats and then it was on. Oddly enough the people that worked the set distracted her from her otherwise depressive state of mind. Letting her get lost for awhile in the jokes and finding out how exactly a movie set worked and all that magic that went into it. But most of all, she got to watch Dallas do the one thing he loved above all else. She got the privilege of seeing Dallas in his element, and he did so make a dashing vampire. He makes it all seem terribly easy, she said to the director after declining any and all offers to be in Dallass movie, giving of advice or anything of the like. Socrates was young in the eyes of her race after all, just a child when it all came down to it. Delavar could tell them, she thought to herself as her head turned upwards to see just how high the cat crane could lift or how it could snake sideways depending on which direction they needed to go. Delavar could give them excellent advice on how to portray their kind. The thought of Delavar giving gentlemen like talk over tea and camera lighting seemed to strike her funny bone, and she laughed silently as the costume and hair stylists gestured for a costume she could have as a trinket of her time there on the set. Indecisive as ever, she would paw gently from one to another for most of the day, coming back again and again to look at the racks of apparel numerous times. On one of her trips to those racks of items she would pause and then bend the directors ear with a little tid bit of her own opinion of how she herself got around as a vampire. She couldnt very well speak for others, and she would never do such a thing. But she did tell the intelligent Mr. Avante a little about herself and how it wasnt all that different from himself, and she hoped that was some kind of help to him. It probably wouldnt be but she had felt bad for not telling him the first couple of times he had asked her of it. Susan the lead, with the fat house cat and crooked glasses. Jerone the gaffer with the six siblings and father that put him into college with hard work and many an arse beatings. Tanaya was the hair stylist but she had originally tried out for the casting job, Ashley had been handling costume designs for over twenty years although she envied Tanayas career choice. She found out little by little these peoples and before the night was done, the majority of the crews life stories, flaws and virtues over drinks and chit-chat. She did not think it such a big deal but apparently they did to have her present for filming, whatever that meant she wasnt sure despite how some told her. Mr. Avante would get a kind nod and a Let me sleep on it, in reply to his question for being a consultant. That and a smile and laugh before dinner was under way and more jokes were thrown about and the mood was as merry as it was busy. She was taken by surprise even so by just how many people swarmed the set at times and then it seemed as if only Dallas, the director, two other people working the rails and camera, plus herself were in the area. Later when asked aside if everything was okay with Dallas, which had Socratess back going rigid. Glancing up and around, she said in a hushed whisper way, Hes had a an emergency, a terrible trauma he has been enduring for some time now. Its a delicate matter, please dont mention it to him directly. Hes coping with it the best way he can, part of his therapy his physician explained to me earlier this morning. Forgive me if I dont tell you more Mr. Avante, its just really hard to talk about it at all. But I do know someone that can tell you everything and why Argenta wont be tagging along anymore for his films. On her last words there was this spark of something hungry that flickered through her entire being. Something veracious just like the night she had attacked the now dead syndicate boss. It was the side of her she was often at odds with. The less pleasant, more aggressive half that only quieted down when Dallas or Delavar were near. When she was alone, even surrounded by these people, she felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She had said to the director that that was why she had to introduce herself when they had arrived here, because Dallas wasnt ready to talk to anyone yet. It wont impede on his career she said, perhaps too quickly. She then apologized to the man and said that it was just she didnt want any assumptions as to Dallass ability to act being questioned, regardless of his current situation. And past circumstances. After that everything was conducted as would be expected. Socrates didnt try to but for some weird reason every single damn thing that she uttered came off as either funny or down right hilarious to someone on the set. Somewhere, some how, people were howling in mad fits of giggles or just busting at the seams. She gave up trying to figure out just what exactly she had said and entertained Dallas at dinner with the balancing of a can of coke on itself edge, standing up but tilted slightly to the side on the table. When asked how the can could lean that much and not fall over, she said it was the coke inside it, duh. Again, someone started laughing and she huffed, gnawing at her lower lip as she slumped in her chair, leaning on Dallass shoulder in mild the mild defeated bunny way. Pouting and fidgeting. Night time came all to quick and before they knew it, it was time to go home. She grunted at being squeezed near to death by the short and very round Susan with the equally fat house cat, then grunted even louder when Jerone bear hugged them both, followed by Tanya and Ashley and four other people that caused all nine of them to fall sideways onto the green padded floor. Laughing mind you the whole way down. She told them she had so much fun and that she was jealous she hadnt taken up this line of work sooner. Tomorrow, tomorrow they said. Come see us again Socrates! Yeah, come back tomorrow and Ill bring my cat Muff, she loves knew people. That though had a few people staring, to which Susan had to give them the finger and storm off swearing. Some figured the lead was just joshing them with the name Muff and that she really didnt have a cat. But of course others would defend her and say that they had seen the freakishly large animal and it was a black plumper. Waving till she thought her arm was going to snap off, the vampire drag queen clamored into the vehicle that would be taking Dallas and herself home after being led or finding it. Folding both hands in her lap, she beamed brightly at Dallas, even though he still said nothing. It was okay for now she thought. They had had much fun today. He appeared happy and that was all she could really ask for. Upon pulling up to the handsome estate Delavar had kept all these decades, she had to restrain herself from bursting out of the car and just running circles on the front lawn the way she use to way back when. She didnt even get her coat off before she felt her lips being besieged by those soft kissable Dallas owned, and it just made her melt in so many ways. Her fingers knotted up the sides of his shirt as she felt that sizzling sensation in her toes and then he was gone and off to sleep. After standing at his door for far too long, shutting it, she was graced with her Sires presence and it further lightened her heart to hear the concern in his voice was as worried as her own. Not that she doubted Delavars intentions or anything. She just felt reassured in hearing someone else care as deeply as she did for Dallas. Sitting with both turquoise fish netted legs underneath herself, her big fluffy thin frayed pieced feathery dark green coat still pulled about her, she said, It was like hearing an angel, her light peach glossed lips spreading into an adoring smile as she recollected how many times the human could make her heart leap into her throat that day, He could have been the man he was playing, and nobody would have known the difference. No, he did not say anything to me, or anyone else. He can talk you see its just, he choose to use his voice when he was acting for the movie. In the scenes where the cameras and lighting gave him a surreal hue and an almost halo like ring of gold around his hair. Here, it was right here. She made a circle with her two index fingers over Delavars head where they started at his forehead and then met again at the back of his head just near that soft pelt of fur. She wouldnt lie to either her Sire or the good Doctor though. She didnt have it in her to lie. Mr. Avante and the crew were all concerned about how he didnt say a word to them, but he was perfect in every take he did. Flawless. It was baffling to them when he appeared perfectly fine on film, and yet off camera he was mute. Delavar, what does this mean, she said, trying to keep the anxiety out of her tone but not doing a very good job of it near the end. She needed to hear it from him and Dr. Escobarr that Dallas was just going through a phase. That he would bounce back and everything would be okay. She needed to hear Delavar say nothing was wrong with the human, it was just in his head. Well if that was the case, then something was seriously wrong. "No, he didnt try to inflict bodily harm on himself. He wasnt upset or depressed once bit. In fact, he was fit as a fiddle. You should have seen him on the wires! Sire! He outshone even a real vampire er.. He did. I apologize if they hurts someones feelings but he did. Mm, no, no panic attacks. He didnt eat too much or too little, so he didnt have an eating disorder. What? Did he urinate in public?! Dr. Escoba-oh Your kidding. Well its not funny Sir." Socrates huffed a little, crossing her long forest green big poofy long sleeved arms over her chest. She would answer the questions that the doctor posed to her as well as any Delavar might have had of his own. The night would be even longer depending on how much the two consorting questioned the youth or if they reached a mutual understanding. The latter didnt seem likely...
-- Edited by Alaina at 05:31, 2008-05-07
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"The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis."
Delavar pursed his lips and his russet ringed eyes of pale green smoldered on Socrates as she questioned his involvement with Meccan and Argenta. His slit pupils were thin as razors in the dim light of the unlit hallway, giving the impression that his unusual eyes were even larger and more arresting. "We shall talk of this later tonight, Socrates," he seemed to warn her. His expression and demeanor gave nothing away other than the passionate burn and obvious tension the subject had aroused in him. He intended to tell her nothing but the truth. Delavar only lied to his enemies, and Socrates was his son, his daughter and confident rolled into one. He loved her.
Later, when Socrates and Dallas returned from a very long day on location, and Dallas was sound asleep; Delavar finished a report for his shipyard, took a stroll around the grounds, then called met Escobarr and Socrates in the parlor, where he seated himself beside his kindred and listened raptly as his beloved trans recounted the day's events. A faint smile curled the imposing vampire's lips as Escobarr amused himself by playing the role of a human shrink for Socrates' benefit. He was teasing her but Delavar doubted that his daughter realized it. After his brief ruse the doctor sobered and began acquainting Socrates with how he was actually evaluating Dallas and how he intended to treated.
"Since Dallas has arrived and awakened I have unobtrusively infiltrated his mind and observed him. He is more talkative than you may realize. He is experiencing a state of schizophrenic dementia which is presently rooted in reality, most of the time. He imagines himself addressing and responding to you and others normally, when in fact he is unable to utter a word. When he woke this morning, he was having terrible hallucinations. He envisioned you, Socrates, as an angel, being defiled by a hideous demon that represented Argenta. He then saw you turned by the demon into a winged monster which turned on the demon to tear his face off, then his flesh, after which you devoured Argenta until nothing but bones remained. This is Dallas's way of conquering his fear, the fear that Argenta shall return to torment him. If nothing of him remains but bones, he cannot return, can he?"
"At Meccan's palace he viewed you on a monitor permitting the syndicate princeps to have his way with you, then he witnessed your attack on him, the demon turning you into a monster, you see, but he did not see whether you had killed him or not. Argenta was in fact still alive despite all his wounds. Meccan had to finish him. The fiendish man had a strong will to survive. Drugs will not cure Dallas. It sickens me the way humans use drugs as an answer to everything, when all drugs do is delay the actual problem. I will heal Dallas by first helping him to recognize the difference between delusion and reality, and by rebuilding his confidence in the world and people around him. His first impulse when he woke was to end his life, Socrates, until you breezed into his room with breakfast. A breakfast he appreciated but had no appetite for. Do not try to deceive us into believing he is in better health than he is, Socrates. He is not fine. He is not the picture of health. He is mentally and physically shipwrecked. He barely ate anything all day, did he?" It was true, Dallas had picked at every meal; between breakfast and lunch and dinner he had barely consumed one meal.
"You have healing to do yourself, Socrates. Your past with Delavar still haunts you, even after one hundred years. A rage burns within you which slept for a long time until you took it out on all too many people you chose as blood victims in Juvare. A sort of insanity overcame you. You had a rage and confusion in you, a loneliness and thirst you could not cope with, and so you took it out on those low lives you chose to destroy. You were marked as a serial killer there and if Delavar had not come for you, they would have discovered it was you in time."
"There is something very important you must prepare yourself for, Socrates. You consumed a great deal of human blood, and it shall corrupt your physical body in time. In fact, just being kindred causes drastic, physical changes. It should have happened a long time ago. You do not realize how lucky you are to have retained your human form this long. This shall occur, Socrates, and each time you feed from a human, your chances increase. If that human is unclean, a drug addict for example, you exasperate the possibility. You will know it approaches when you feel excessively hungry and are driven to ingest twice your usual intake in blood, and afterwards have a great desire to sleep as you never have before, at what time a sort of hibernation will overcome you, and like a moth in a cocoon, you shall metamorphose. It is called hyper-metamorphosis. It is hard to say what changes shall overcome you. It might be some flaw from your genetic history, or from Delavar's blood. It has happened to Delavar many times. He is fortunate in that he was never disabled by a physical defect. He once looked almost as human as you, with exception of his kaanan traits."
(current roll at 67% chance of corruption on a 1d100 unless you choose to just have Socrates go through with the evolutionary regression)
"Now your rage threatens you again, owed to the suffering of Dallas, who had put the demons in you asleep when you met him in Juvare. He was the light you had searched for in a world of darkness, another good soul who needed to be protected and cared for. You have always been protective of innocents, haven't you, Socrates? Only you feel you failed to protect him. You also live with the fear that he shall discover the monster you believe yourself to be. Indeed, you and he alike have a great deal of healing to do," the wise but relentless Dr. evaluated her rather accurately and then leaned back in his chair. "Do not attempt to hide from yourself, Socrates. One cannot conquer their demons by ignoring them. They shall only rise up in you when you least expect it, like they did when you attempted to slay Delavar all those years ago. You must confront your flaws head on in order to defeat them and improve yourself."
Delavar hugged Socrates tight. "I suppose I aggravated what seethes inside of my beloved daughter by sending her to unleash her demons on that degenerate abomination Argenta."
"You are beyond help," Escobarr assured Delavar in a light hearted manner. "Killing that monster may have been a release, or it may have unleashed the blood lust in her anew. Only she can answer that."
Delavar gave Socrates an affectionate squeeze and laid his gaze raptly on her. "You asked if I was involved with Argenta. I had nothing to do with Argenta's disgusting purchase of Dallas from that equally foul trafficker of flesh. Always your heart has impugned my nature by misunderstanding me. I despise the likes of Argenta. How can you imagine otherwise? I involved myself with him to free Dallas, and inserted you into that plot that you could avenge the man you love and be his protector as you always wished. As for Meccan, he is a spy I implanted in Argenta's organization years before he claimed Dallas, who seeks to bring Argenta's kingdom under vampiric control and shift power from an illegal and corrupt trade to one of honorable prosperity. It was Meccan who informed me that Argenta had Dallas under his control. Have I done wrong?"
Dallas slept soundly for all of half an hour, and about the time Escobarr said that Dallas was not the picture of health, Dallas woke from a horendous nigtmare and made his way silently through the manor and to the parlor, following the sound of their voices. He paused outside however, with his hand raised as if to knock as something Escobarr said froze him where he stood. He lowered his hand after a moment and stood there by the door just listening. His mind was a blank sponge which absorbed everything he eavesdropped on while his eyes wandered as he soaked in every inflection of the vampire's serene voice. Then when the Doctor said that Socrates could not hide from herself, Dallas turned away and went back upstairs. He was not gone long. When he returned to the door, he had an empty backpack in hand which he put down by the wall beside the door. He missed whatever response Socrates gave him, if any, and heard the sound of Delavar's voice. He waited...Waited until Socrates answered her sire when he asked her if he had done wrong. When a pause fell he took the opportunity and knocked on the door. When Delavar told him to enter, he turned the crystal knob and entered the spacious room shyly.
"I...I could not sleep," he believed he spoke aloud when it was his mind alone which spoke. He felt himself speak, heard himself speak, but it was all part of his strange dementia. Delavar and Escobarr gazed at him, both of them receiving his inner voice, as would Socrates if she opened her mind to his mental voice. "I am going for a walk. I prefer to be alone if you don't mind. I just wanted to tell you so you would not worry." His lips twitched with the beginning of a smile which never made it to his lips. When he turned as if to leave, Delavar stood.
"Dallas, you are not well. I prefer you stayed here, or permitted Socrates to accompany you."
Dallas was not sure if that was a demand or a request Delavar spoke. "Am I your prisoner?" his mind asked.
"No, but you are under my care, and the care of doctor Escobarr. I am responsible for you," he attested.
"If I am not your prisoner, I can go for a damned walk." Dallas's face showed everything which he felt. He looked positively heartbroken, his lips trembled and a sudden glaze of tears glassed his eyes.
"I tell you what Dallas. If you can speak aloud to us, then I will permit you to take your stroll. I don't know if you realize it or not, but you have not spoken a word since you got here, that was not spoken in your mind. I can hear you because I am a Telepath. Spill your request from those lips my transvestite son finds so delicious, and I shall permit it."
Dallas's legs trembled and he locked his muscles to steady himself. "You are trying to confuse me..." his mind spoke.
Delavar shook his head. "No, Dallas. I would never lie to you. I am telling you the truth."
"He is telling you the truth, Dallas," Escobarr supported. "Go to the mirror there on the mantle and speak to him." Escobarr had remained seated and motioned to Delavar and Socrates (if she was standing) to do the same. He sensed that Dallas felt threatened.
Dallas stared at Delavar a moment after he seated himself then trained his green eyes on Socrates. He forced his legs afterwards to carry him to the mirror. A pale face stared back at him. "I am going for a walk by myself," he said, his thoughts did at least, and the face which gazed back at him moved his lips to speak the words his mind said. It was a hallucination of course, but he was convinced. Dallas swung around and headed for the door.
Delavar started to rise but Escobarr motioned for his to remain seated. "Dallas..." The doctor called out to him. "Whatever you saw in that mirror, you did not speak aloud. You are suffering from dementia."
Dallas paused for a brief moment then stalked out of the room and snatched up his backpack.
"Let him go, Delavar, Socrates. He feels threatened and making him feel like a prisoner will not help. Not after what he has been through. If he is gone for too long, then you can go look for him."
"And risk losing him in this city?" Delavar protested.
"Yes, and risk losing him in this sprawl. He is better off out there than feeling like a prisoner here. Freedom is what he needs to heal."
For the first time, Delavar doubted Escobarr's wisdom. He was not accustomed to allowing himself to lose control of a situation. His gaze settled on his male daughter. "You too are free, Socrates. Do what you believe is for the best."
"You might want to rethink that," Escobarr intervened. "He may have overheard our conversation."
Delavar's eyes leapt on the other vampire. "May have, or did?"
"I do not know. I never sensed him outside the door, probably because his mind was clear. Now his thoughts are a mad tangle I cannot make sense of, other than what he believed he was saying. Either way, he needs time to sort his feelings out. Freedom is the key to balancing him. You must trust me."
"I trust, Socrates," Delavar growled.
Escobarr shrugged. "Why am I here then?"
Delavar was beginning to wonder that himself. Fact was, Escobarr was too good, and it unnerved him.
For those few minutes that the good doctor seemed to find it amusing in teasing the quite easily dooped Delavars son/daughter, she had almost believed what Escobarr said. That is until he put away his sense of humor to become serious for the task at hand, and when that occurred she would find that her face felt heated. The explanation that came flowing out of Escobarr seemed to grate against her senses more then anything else. She heard him, really she did. But for all his reasoning, she didnt want to hear him. Yet her not wanting to accept the fact that Dallas was far from okay, did not change the facts. Saying nothing as he painted the scene of an angel becoming a demon, and then in turn devouring the demon that had poisoned it, Socrates felt growing shame for what she had done to Argenta. Despite what the human syndicate boss deserved and so much more. Her hate for the man from all the things he had subjected Dallas to, as well as a little added self loathing on her part, had made it simple enough a violent act to commit. But had it really been that cut and dry? Could she honestly say that somehow allowing the snake of a man to put his hands on her had not made a crack in those thin walls she had drew up around herself years ago? To the rhetorical question Escobarr posed, her brows drew together as her form sank lower into the depths of that outlandish fluffy thin-feather green coat. Truth be told if that was what it took for Dallas to feel better about himself, she was fairly sure she would have done it. But he imagined these things? These were his hallucinations and the only way he could cope with the terrible time he had been held captive by Argenta. She had thought Dallas had not seen what they had done, or rather what Argenta had done to her and she had willingly let him. But at the time it had just been a physical act, one that led down the path to the mans death. She found it easy to set aside her hate for the pleasure Argenta derived from her body, and washed it with. Sex had never been high on her priority list, although it had its appeal. Now though that she knew Dallas had seen everything she regretted it more than anything. She had just started to digest it all including the part where she hadnt killed Argenta but Meccan had to when Escobarr said that the first thing to cross Dallass mind was to commit suicide. Abruptly the world would do that funny thing where it tipped sideways and then the floor felt as though it was heaving upwards. He had wanted to do something wasnt what disturbed her. It was that it was something she could understand, that unnerved her, and upset her to near tears. She thought she had mouthed the word, What? but it had all been in her head as it buzzed with a dull static. An eerie static that made the senses unclear and the world mono-toned. Cause a world without Dallas was really no world at all. It was all that she could think as that pale haired head turned away to the side as the doctor went on to talk about her. Which had never been a good subject of conversation, Socrates. Now wasnt the time to work out her issues she thought, bitterly, sinking lower onto the couch inside her coat. As though she were trying to hide within the fluffy green article of clothing, folding her arms around herself as Delavar hugged her. To which her answer would be working her hands out of the long sleeves and gently pushing at Delavars hands. She didnt want comfort, or she felt it wasnt right for her to receive it. The femme boys head would swivel to look up at to Delavar as he squeezed him in spite of her silent requests, but she said nothing to any of the doctors questions nor Delavars answers. And then the one last question that her Sire posed to her after telling her what all he had done for Dallas and her, which only furthered how sorry she was that she had assumed Delavars intentions. Or had she? It was all confused now just exactly what went on in Socratess head. A garbled hum of memories because that was all she had for a century of solitude and that nerve racking static that currently filtered into the background. Quite unwell Delavars kindred was indeed. As she shook her head no, and then moved to rest it against Delavars side or chest, whichever he would let her lean against him. She had yet to say anything the whole evening that they sat in their comfy spots and spoke of just how they were going to help Dallas and other things. Not one word. Not even an encouragement that she got what they were saying or acknowledgment that she would try to control her own vices. The latter was second to Dallass well being. It was a fear that was creeping into her spine that Dallas would see the ugliness in her. But she would shrug it off. Close that book. Let it roll off her back so to speak. She could give a flying freak how tore up she was on the inside. It was Dallas that was in serious trouble here, and perhaps that too was just the cover for not wanting to face who she had become. Or what. Though it had been several minutes before she actually said, No, Sire, youve done nothing but be the man I knew you were. Although it felt as though the words were too late. To her ears they did. She should have told Delavar sooner. She should have told him many things way, way sooner. However since she had never really practiced guarding her thoughts or reading those of others, her Sire could have saw it for himself if he choose to. Those black eyes would lower to the floor for a second before she heard a knock and Delavar said for whomever it was to come in. Since Dallass voice was not heard, Socrates would continue to look at the floor. For she did not really care who it was at the door, and she was about ready to excuse herself from Delavar and Dr. Escobarr. She felt as though she were about to crawl out of her skin if Escobarr said one more word about her inner workings. And she might literally do it if sincerity came out of Delavar too.
However, with her Sire moving to stand and Dallass name being said, the gender confused males head would snap up in the direction of the door. The dismaying sensation of no longer being comfortable in her own skin, not that she ever truly was, seemed to evaporate as Delavar told Dallas that he would rather he stay or let her go with him. Again when Delavar spoke and Dallas had not uttered a word, she had to relax and let her mind do its wandering to listen to Dallass thoughts. Which was worrisome to her but she did feel she was missing something very important in the one-way conversation it would appear the vampire was having with the human. It was like a kick in the gut to see those lips that Delavar mentioned tremble and his eyes be threatened by tears. They were all there to help Dallas. To help him heal his heart that felt so broken and mend his soul that had become torn and fragile. But they could only help him. He was the one who ultimately determined weather he wanted to be better afterall. But if she had it her way she would force feed Dallas sunshine and happiness and everything would be good. In a perfect world, maybe such a thing was possible. She couldnt look away from those tear filled eyes as Escobarr joined Delavar in their pursuit of trying to set Dallas in the right direction towards getting over his ailments. Socrates wasnt standing when Escobarr said to go to the mirror, but oh how she did nearly leap off the couch, swinging both legs over the back of it, to hurry to where the doctor gestured to. It was done without a thought put behind it. Sort of like breathing. If she could be nearer to Dallas in any way, of course she would jump at the chance, no pun intended. With both hands clasped together behind her back, she would tilt her head as she stood behind Dallas, looking up at the left side of his face as he looked in that mirror and spoke. Leaning slightly to the left as her eyes fixated on Dallass face, and not the mirror. She wasnt interested in the mirror. Just Dallas. And what he was thinking. She thought to herself that if Dallas never used his voice again, it wouldnt have been so bad. She would just have to carry on small talk with him in that weird way where to someone else it would appear as though she were talking to herself. Of course, these thoughts went against her morals and her love was not so selfish that it could let Dallas live with his afflictions. Not yet it wasnt. As Dallas turned to make for the door the transvestite kindred would move back several steps and lean on the edge of a small dark wood table with a picture frame of two people sitting by a piano. Looking after Dallas after he left the room, a sort of quiet anxiety seeped into her. If Dallas went out there, someone was going to hurt him. Or lie to him and then sell him a bill of goods. Something terrible for sure was out there waiting for Dallas, and she just could not take anything happening to him again if she could help it. Then those brows drew together as her eyes turned on Escobarr. It was a mild glare she gave the other vampire. Nothing menacing or alarming about it, one might even say it bordered childish from its lack of intensity. But she wasnt going to let Dallas go now. They had just gotten him from the hands of a mad man. Shed finally spent an entire day with him after all this time, and for what? To let him wander around a bit and perhaps hurt himself or get hurt by someone elses means? She thought not as her legs did not feel as jelly like as her stomach did.
Im going to buy a dog, came to abrupt words from the femme male as he moved perhaps too quickly out of the room so as not to give Escobarr time to say something else that would halt her in her with doubt and logic. Damn logic she thought, for she did get what the doctor was trying to caution Delavar and her in regards to Dallas. Then again Socrates had never owned a dog before. Shed had a fish once but that was a long time ago. A feisty little grey thing that liked to gnaw on peoples toes. The recollection of said furry feline sort of made her want to get Dallas a dog strangely. Maybe Dallas liked dogs she thought as she pretty much flew up the stairs to the room that kept the majority of her brow raising wardrobe in, but it probably wasnt her bedroom. Socrates had the oddest sleeping habits. That being that she always found a nitch somewhere near Delavar or she would end up curled in the fetal position on the living room table. A counter top. The kitchen floor. Once she had woken up on the front lawn. Throwing open the door to the closet the kindred would begin flinging dresses and scarves, hats and belts, jackets and pants behind her like a crazy person. Muttering something about hairy legs would be a nice touch, she fingered at an old pair of red jeans, a plain black tee and a little extra on the side. It would be about fifteen minutes or so before she came back down stairs. What she wore might have been shocking because it was so masculine. Teenager-ish even. What stood in the doorway to the parlor, if Delavar and Escobarr were still there after fifteen, was someone that did not look like the girlish boy chasing after Dallass heart. But wasnt that part of the charm? To see just how well you could blend in with the other sex? Well, in her case it would be her actual sex that she was dressing like but that was besides the damn point. Red jean pants that sat far too low on her narrow hips where a black studded belt held said pants on her, as if she needed it. The pants looked terribly tight as it was. A snug fitting black quarter sleeved shirt. Worn and scuffed red and white sneakers to go with the black cap that was pulled up a little in the front so that the black tinted slightly large sunglasses that hid her eyes could be seen, Socrates just did not look at all like herself. She came to give the two one last look before she departed on what she felt could become an unfriendly escapade. Maybe to show Escobarr how serious she was when it came to Dallass well being. Or maybe how messed up in the head she really was. Just like he said she would be from everything shed done and been exposed to. It didnt matter. Well, Im off, she said, and even her voice she changed a little in it pitch to not sound so damn girlie. Just a little. Not much really, cause she still sounded gay as shyte but hey, what was a girl to do when all of your junk was up near your ears and you felt like the boxers she had put on just werent cutting it. Turning, Socrates bolted from the doorway and out the front door. Not pausing to adjust herself, she sprinted with one hand on top of her head to keep the hat in place. She would find Dallas soon if he hadnt gotten that far. Maybe tail him awhile till she figured out what all he was up to. If he had gotten as far as she feared he would, cause she had taken too long trying to rub off the perfume shed sprayed on her neck that morning with a cloth, then it would take her a little longer. They did have all night. The only one really in a hurry was Socrates.
If Delavar and Dr. Escobarr werent in the pallor after she came back down from changing into her very impatient boy ensemble then she would head straight out the front door after willing her Sire to forgive her for being foolish and that she would bring Dallas back after he had found himself out there in the world. Course she was not a master of such abilities as Delavar was, so he may not receive her veracious feelings for what she wanted to do for Dallas. She hoped he would. For she had no time to write him a thank you card.
-- Edited by Alaina at 19:25, 2008-05-20
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"The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis."
It was odd, how like in mind these two massively different people could be. What really did Socrates and Dallas have in common? Was Dallas predisposed to be gay? It had never occured to him until he found out the 'girl' he had fallen for was in fact male. Did Dallas have a homicidle bone in his body? Not one. Was he at all violent in his nature? Not a bit. What did Socrates love and enjoy? Did Socrates love the movies? Dallas loved the movies, enough that he had sacrified everything he had to become an actor. He loved to read, to learn new languages, perfect those he had learned. Did Socrates love people? Despite how many people had hurt, exploited and disappointed Dallas, he loved people. He loved food and fireworks, Vampires made the best most amazing fireworks. He loved vampires, secretly dreamed of becoming one... but if he knew what a human had to sacrifice to become a vampire, he would change his mind. Dogs, cats, animals of all kinds, Dallas loved them. What though did Socrates love? Whatever her likes, whatever they shared in common, whatever their contradictions; both she and Dallas were on the same mission. Dallas had an empty backpack with him for one reason. To fill it with a puppy. He was on his way to a house he had seen four blocks away from Delavar's house, one with a 'Puppies for Sale' sign on posterboard tacked to a fence by the front walk. They were mutts but for sale because the owners figured that if someone paid for the pups, they would be more responsible. Why did Dallas think Socrates should have a puppy? Because she was so hurt by the fact that he was 'unwell'. Because she cared so much about him. Because her heart was so big that he felt she needed someone else to fit into it, someone who would love her unconditionally, a puppy.
Dallas walked up onto the porch and knocked on the door. There was a slight delay, then at last (the family had just been finishing up with supper) a vampire lady in her early 30s (very young for a vampire) and her eight year old son answered the door. She flashed her fangs as she greeted Dallas with a smile when he 'announced' he was there to buy a puppy. He was lucky the woman had been born telepathic. The funny thing was, despite the fact that he was not speaking, only thought he was, she did not seem to think anything of it or treat him peculiarly because of it. Vampires were far more insightful and understanding than humans, and this particular vampire was empathic. Perhaps it was fate that Dallas get a puppy from her. The door was opened wider and he was invited in. Dallas smiled back at her and entered.
The puppies in questions were adorable little balls of various coloured fluff now, but being half andowulf (like a samoyed) and half Sudari (like a pitbull) they would grow into a nice medium sized, large, but not too huge, or possible even a huge dog. All them were adorable and would be gorgeous dogs. (Had this breed once, they are beeee-eautiful) Some were beautifully brindled with reddish or fawn coats, striped with black and or umber, and had caramel eyes. Others were an unusual battleship blue color with brown stripes on their legs and blue eyes, and while some had perk ears, others had floppy ears. Some had short hair, others were fluffy, all were soft or silky. While some were sweet and kind of dumb, others were smart as sapling whips.
They were all so cute that Dallas had a hard time choosing one, but finally settled on the most adorable, short but silky haired, perk earned, blue puppy dog. In fact, he decided that whatever Socrates named her, he was going to call her blue. She was smart, playful and spunky. Dallas fell in love with her immediately so was sure Socrates would do the same. How big she would get remained to be seen, she could be any size from medium small to huge. andowulf mixes were weird that way. Dallas paid 30 credits for the puppy, thanked the lady, who gave him a puppy gift bag, and left the house with the pup tucked in his backpack and a huge grin on his face. He began whistling a tune, and in this he actually made sound, just like he did while he was acting, and the puppy yipped excitedly then grew quiet, just listening to him and loving the sounds he was making. Dallas had some bounce back in his step as he walked by those huge boxwoods which hugged the sidewalk. He was about to turn the corner, one made blind by the size of those well trimmed, boxy hedges.
Dallas wasn't really dwelling on anything he'd overheard them saying when he had unintentionally eavesdropped them and been accused of being crazy. All he was thinking about now, was that he hoped Blue brought a smile to Socrates face. Now as Dallas turned that corner, there was a boy coming around the street corner as well, only he was so used to seeing Socrates as a girl, that he did not even recognize her as a boy. At least not right away. Half way down the sidewalk; His strides came to a rather abrupt halt and he turned slowly around, sure that he had indeed recognized that face. "Socrates...?" he called out, at least he thought he did. It was only in his mind he actually did so. He was sure he had to be mistaken, or that it was only wishful thinking that he had seen her face on that boy.
