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Post by · Rebel La'Beau. on Mar 2, 2010 22:21:40 GMT -5
from dusk 'till dawn, baby got it goin' on.
(--- reserved;♥) -----■ if you've got alotta love & don't who to give it to ■
{imma turn out these city lights & write a song for you.}
-----
From first moment she closed the bedroom door behind her, Rebel had been cursing herself and her completely lethargic attitude when it came to packing. Having no previous expectation or inclination that she was going to need anything but sweatpants and bandannas for the next day few days, the girl had just thrown everything throughout her bags at random - and in a completely desperate, last minute fashion to make matters worse. She didn't want to keep her birthday date waiting for very long, but how the hell was she supposed to find something wearable in any of this? After several deep breaths and a ten-second pep-talk, the girl grabbed a bag at random and opened it up, shaking it's contents all over her bare wooden floor with crossed fingers. Luck - or Fate, perhaps - was evidently on her side that night because out of the bag tumbled not only a dress, but a jacket, shoes and even her makeup bag.
Ten minutes, a little eyeliner and a costume change had done wonders for the girl. The insane disco gold sequins only magnified the smoldering glow of her eyes and the pink ruffles were somehow just as unique and romantic as the cotton candy curls that fell over her shoulders. Grabbing a little black blazer off of the towering clothes pile, Rebel stepped out of the bedroom, wearing an incredibly feline smile as her stomach churned in a fashion so charming and juvenile. It seemed that part of her was actually concerned with someone else's opinion of her for once. The click of her short black heels politely announced her presence back in the main room as she slipped on her jacket, toning down the new ensemble just a touch.
"Hello stranger," there was a laugh in her words, playful and tinkling as she addressed Delacoix. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting." The apartment was big and open, one huge room with high ceilings and wooden floors that swallowed up her voice as soon as it escaped her.
Outside of her huge glass windows, the dark, electric city loomed quietly beneath them, just as their night ahead lay unwritten before them. "Ready to go?"
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Post by ajora on Mar 3, 2010 16:51:29 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] so take me and make me
WEAKENED AND SAVE ME [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] this hate that you gave me
KEEPS SAYING THE SAME THING [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] Have you ever had "The Night"? You know, "The Night". That's when you meet someone new, and consequently spend the whole night with the person; talking, laughing, and learning about every bit of each other. You just seem to click with the person. Telling them everything feels natural, as though you'd known them for years. Some of the best relationships formulate around a night life this, not to mention some of the hottest nights.
Well, this was Delacoix's first experience having "The Night" in a long time. There was no recollection of the last time it had occured, but he knew he had experienced it. It's how he knew what it felt like.
They hadn't even been together for very long at all. Only an hour or so had passed since they got in
his car[/url][/color] and made their way to her new home. Deep in the heart of Manhattan, arguably the epicenter of New York. How she had managed to actually find an available flat in the downtown was beyond Delacoix. He'd tried for years, and never found anything more than a one room apartment. Lucky girl.
When they had entered, still talking animatedly, Rebel broke for her room. Delacoix could only roll his eyes and smile. She looked nothing short of stunning, and if she didn't acknowledge that at some point during the night, Delacoix was going to have a fit. But he did understand the reasoning, and didn't really feel like arguing (in all his centuries of life, he still came away from most of these arguments on the losing side). This left the Vampire to marvel at the majestic view that stretched outside the windows.
It seemed like hours were spent basking the the unnatural glow of the city. No, Rebel wasn't actually taking that long to change. The Vampire actually found himself lost amidst the lights and sound, the traffic and citizen, concrete and steel. Pondering the happenings of humans; their purpose and drive. It had been so very long since his humanity was torn from him, he had forgotten what it was like to think like a human. To live an existence based upon day to day, short term goals. In fear of mortality. That is how someone should have to feel. To live forever, fearless and ageless, was nothing short of a burden.
Soft clicking echoed through the high ceilinged room, peeling the Vampires' attention away from the large window and towards the origin of the sound. And Delacoix was very happy he did so. The beauty standing before him was even moreso than that he'd remembered, slipping into the door not fifteen minutes ago. Sporting an entirely new outfit, as well as more defined eye-liner that made a stunning contrast between her eyes and hair. [/font]
"Hello stranger," she spoke softly, and quite flirtatiously, "I'm sorry I kept you waiting." Delacoix politely returned the smile, giving her a final look up and down. Though he really didn't want to, he at this point managed to focus his eyes upon her own.
"It was no trouble at all Rebel. It is your birthday after all." Tentatively, Delacoix took two slow steps forward until the space between them was nearly gone, Delacoix gazing down at the beaming sea of pink below him. "And you look stunning, Rebel."
Despite about being about to venture out on what would be a marvelous date with an extraordinary girl, something was bothering Delacoix. A lump, sinking deep into his chest. He'd been down this road before, and it always ended the same way because of the same reason. It was one of the many reasons he'd forsaken the whole dating game. If Rebel hadn't completely shut off his brain for the last hour or so, he might have avoided this whole thing altogether.
The dilemma was in that Delacoix was here, and the night was progressing. That he could not allow this to continue and feel good about it, without being honest. Yet with honesty, he feared rejection. For the first time, he actually feared it. Sometimes it did not matter, or sometimes, he would even relish it. Yet somehow, everything was different with Rebel. And Delacoix hoped that on this, she'd be just the same. Different.
"Before we leave though, Rebel, I need to share something with you. I do not know if we've even seen enough of each other tonight for you to fathom where things might be going, so I want to help you make an informed decision before you really get your mind set." With the grin faded from his face, his fingers flexed out until the very tips grazed the ends of her own, slowly rubbing against them as if they were the delicate strings of a harp. "I recently celebrated a birthday too. I turned nine-teen two weeks ago..." he paused, allowing his fingertips to press a little harder into hers, to press the feeling of unearthly cold he lived every night with into her sensory, "twelve-hundred years before that.
I'm a Vampire, Rebel."
If he had a heart, it would be beating faster than ears could perceive. It was like admitting to someone you loved that you were a murderer. Well, not so much like it as very much the situation. To admit Vampirism was to admit some of the most looked down upon acts of the world, and to admit that they'd be committed again, and again, and again. What nobody ever understood, is that it was a gift never asked for, and nothing to be desired. Nobody tried to understand. They felt fear, just the same as Delacoix was feeling, pouring his heart out to the enchantress he'd only just met.
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Post by · Rebel La'Beau. on Mar 5, 2010 0:40:12 GMT -5
She was quickly falling in love with the way he said her name, how much more appealing it seemed to sound coming out of his mouth. The way he looked at her just then only tightened the knots in her stomach, his eyes putting the city lights behind them to shame.
Waving away her worries, Delacoix stepped forward to meet her, the space in between them shrinking in more ways than one. He complimented her, and in place of simply agreeing with him – which was her usual, ill-mannered custom - she instead smiled graciously and offered him a beguiled "Thank you," unable to break his gaze as their hands hovered somewhere near each other, perilously close.
His face fell just then, something working behind his eyes and all Rebel wanted was to see him smile again. He spoke before she had a chance to, and only succeeded in rising several more concerns in her mind. Amazingly enough, they actually plagued her in this order: What did I do wrong? What have I possibly walked into?
His next words dulled the static around them, his voice the only sound for miles.
Finally and suddenly, they achieved full disclosure.
"I'm a Vampire, Rebel." A moment hung between them after that, dangerously quiet and oppressive. After a beat passed, she made a move, slipping her hand away from him and raising it up to his cheek, undeterred by the icy complexion she met there. Her brows furrowed as she searched his eyes for a moment, churning a few thoughts over in her mind before she spoke. The thing that bothered her most, honest and true, was that she had not noticed something off before – it didn't matter if that was even possible. Had she let her guard down that low, all because of a stranger she had literally run into hardly an hour previous? Though, on the other hand, it was hard to remind herself that she had only known Delacoix for a little while, when she felt very sincerely, as if she had known him for years - as if they had grown up together.
Her heart was thumping treacherously in her chest, threatening to betray the trepidation she felt with every passing second. She wasn't scared because he was a vampire, but more because she had never really met one. More frightening however, seemed to be a boy that practiced integrity, candor. His honesty made her tremble, perhaps question if she deserved it. It made her wary of her own closeted skeletons and the hidden scars that she wore like chains, but more than anything it all made her want to do something terribly stupid like open up to this boy and maybe create a vision of him that could last beyond just one night.
Stretching up onto her tip toes, Rebel spoke directly into his ear, her voice barely a whisper. Her free hand was hovering just above his, their fingertips grazing as she tried to keep the level to her voice "Is it weird that this doesn't bother me?" Pulling back so that she could once again have the benefit of looking him in the eye. “Like, should I be freaking out right now?” And it was then that a small smile started to creep into her tone, if only for half a second. Maybe it was just abominable judgment on her part, but for some reason she like, for some reason, that he couldn't hurt her – or at least, that he wouldn't.
“How did it happen? Are you really-”
And to be perfectly honest, in that moment, Rebel realized that she would be perfectly content staying in. A little wine, some take out, a couple vinyl records and the fortune of good conversation sounded like the best birthday she could ever ask for. The company of this boy, even just for an evening, was strangely enough, the best gift she had gotten in years. Now she just wanted the chance to figure out why that was.
She began by interrupting herself. “This is going to sound really strange, and I totally understand if you want to say no, but would you mind staying in tonight?” Her words were hurried and jumbled; she was tripping over her own accent, and as soon as the sentence came to a close, Rebel let out a little noise of exasperation at herself, irritated at her inability to summon the right words. “I mean, I,” she paused here, exhaling slowly in a vain attempt to regain some composure. Looking down at the their hands, a small but bold smile overtook her expression as she slid her hands forward along his before finally raising her eyes.
“I've only known you for an hour, but I already know that all I want to do tonight is talk with you. Here, in a club – or, or in that shitty little diner down the street, I don't care, where ever you want, just,” another noise of frustration only served to make the girl look gravely flustered, which in turn simply made her look something like adorable “- I just haven't come across anyone in a long time that I feel like I can talk to, and I don't care that you are a Vampire because that's just part of you and for some totally insane reason I can't explain because we literally just met, I just really would like to get to know you.”
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Post by ajora on Mar 5, 2010 16:51:51 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] so take me and make me
WEAKENED AND SAVE ME [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] this hate that you gave me
KEEPS SAYING THE SAME THING [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] To admit what he was took everything in him. To prepare himself to endure the inevitable heartbreak that would ensue, when the slow realization of how one of his kind lived sank into mind. It was only a matter of time.
What he had assumed would be a long period of time in fact seemed to take place within seconds. The shortest of pauses was followed by the removal of her warm hand from his. Hope shattered. The will to hope, shattered. The shards of which were slowly making their way down the inside of Delacoix's chest, leaving bleeding lacerations as they went.
As easily as it left him, leaving him feeling empty and cold, it came back to him. Uplifting his spirits further than they were previously, with something as simple as a touch of his cheek. Warmth upon dead skin, restoring faith and comfort. A sensation more powerful than any drug Delacoix had ever experienced.
They exchanged stares for many moments. Delacoix could not fathom what was going through her mind at the time. But he know what wasn't coursing through her mind. Fear. This was the point in time when many, if not most, chose to flee in terror. To scream, to yell profanities, to flail about madly. But burning through her eyes was none of the sort.
“Like, should I be freaking out right now?” After a moments pause, a smile broke Delacoix's face as well. He couldn't believe his luck; finally straightening out after twelve-hundred years of chaos.
"Is it weird that this doesn't bother me?" Whispers into his ear solidified Delacoix's assumptions, and granted him insight into exactly what she was thinking. The words; "YES, it is weird!" burned beneath his lips, a direct result of the sheer numbers that had fled before his presence in twelve-hundred years. “Like, should I be freaking out right now?” The shadow of a grin hung upon her face as she resumed her natural footing. Delacoix just couldn't fight off the grin that she was drawinf from him. She didn't care.
"I think to be worried would be normal... But I'm so thankful you're not Rebel." Delacoix was genuinely happy. This was reflected in his eyes; the relief of ending the masquerade. If he hadn't known better, he'd have sworn such luck upon things being his own birthday, not that of Rebels.
“How did it happen? Are you really-” she paused, the words clearly escaping before the thought processes had resolved. She had not calmed the rush of questions and curiosity that his kind evoked - this was more common. The Vampires' eyes fell to her feet in bitter contemplation of her own. He'd never told anyone of how, or why, it'd happened. And it wasn't that he didn't trust Rebel with it (because he strangely trusted her so very much), but that he had no idea how he'd react to reliving it. Breaking down in front of the woman on the first date wasn't much of a turn-on.
"This is going to sound really strange, and I totally understand if you want to say no, but would you mind staying in tonight?” Joy began to dictate the Vampires' actions now, forcing his lips to open before he'd even begun contemplating what to say. But Rebel beat him to it. “I mean, I,” fingertips beagn to crawl upon the back of his hands now, begging, demanding, inviting Delacoix to step into the dream he'd stumbled upon.
“I've only known you for an hour, but I already know that all I want to do tonight is talk with you. Here, in a club – or, or in that shitty little diner down the street, I don't care, where ever you want, just,” she blurted out, in quite adorable fashion. It was as if she was scared of losing him if they ventured outside. She wanted him to stay inside... Almost as much as he wished to remain. "- I just haven't come across anyone in a long time that I feel like I can talk to, and I don't care that you are a Vampire because that's just part of you and for some totally insane reason I can't explain because we literally just met, I just really would like to get to know you.”
Delacoix had heard enough. There was no particle within his body that required further convincing. And Rebel was just rambling, adorably so. Gently, Delacoix pushed a cool finger against the lips of Rebel to let her know she had won the battle, using his other hand to take one of her own. "I would love nothing more than to spend this evening with you, Rebel. Where doesn't matter to me at all - this is your night after all."
His thumb began tracing small circles upon her own, as he relinquished her lips from the dominion of his finger. "So we'll stay here. Order in some food. You can ask me all your burning questions as we organize your flat a bit more..." She looked like she could use a bit of help with the place. If she was anything like him on this matter, she'd need a good kick in the rear to really get everything sorted and set up, lest she was doomed to be living from a suitcase forever.
"I'm so glad you didn't toss me out..." he confessed, the grip upon her hand strengthening as his gaze drew closer to her lips.
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Post by · Rebel La'Beau. on Mar 5, 2010 20:40:58 GMT -5
She wanted to laugh, or at least chuckle because Rebel was many, many things, but not a single one of them could ever be translated as normalcy. Again, perhaps she was just being completely insane, blinded by the utterly starved way she ached a friend, for someone to be on her side, that she was planning on spending her birthday locked indoors with someone she had just met and who was also, technically, undead. Whatever the outcome, she finally decided, it would at the very lest make for a doubtlessly interesting story someday.
Her cheeks were still a bit flushed, the embarrassment from her outburst of girlish desperation having yet to completely fade away. Rebel wasn't quite sure whether the way this boy made her so wildly self-conscious was endearing, or just frustrating. She was suddenly so aware of all her own little nuances and movements, the way she stood, how she spoke. All in all, things she hadn't been concerned about since turning about fifteen. Everything had always been very simple and straightforward with Rebel; this is how and who I am, every breath of her screamed, take it or leave it.
Her train of thought crashed into the mountainside as he moved closer still, their fingers intertwining as he spoke. He said yes, and simultaneously validated her spastic speech and managed to awake something frenzied in the very pit of her stomach. Pressing a finger to her lips only caused the girl to smile, quiet dimples making themselves known on either side of her expression. Still, somewhere in the back of her mind she couldn't shake the nagging reminder of her own shady past and the uneven ground it was leaving them to stand on. Quiet, she told herself through the turbulence of her own thoughts, they had the whole night ahead of them and she was sure they were going to get into her faults far before it was over.
"Parfait." She squeezed his hand, a gesture of something that couldn't quite be put into words. "If I don't get some proper motivation I know I'll be living out of my suitcases for as long as humanly possible." A small laugh escaped Rebel as she moved to slip out of her shoes - which only served to make her even shorter still - and carefully pushed them aside.
She spent a distracted second trying to remember whether or not she packed those bottles of sparkling wine she had kept hidden under bed at the Academy, until Delacoix spoke once more. His words tugged wickedly at her heartstrings as she was more or less undone by his affectionate honesty once more. He seemed to be such a rare sort of character, as a person not simply a boy, and she caught herself wondering if it was somehow the reaction to living for twelve-hundred years, or if he had always been like this. Her curiosity for him seemed determined to increase almost exponentially as their time together carried on. "I'm glad you stayed."
"So," she sucked in a breath, grinning impishly up at him. "First question: sushi, Chinese, or pasta?" Her brows furrowed comically, a few strands of Valentine curls falling across her gaze as she did her best impression of severity. It was a rather serious questio, to be honest, because if Delacoix couldn't decide, Rebel was like to order all three and then maybe a pizza as well. She wouldn't possibly eat all of it, couldn't if she tried, but indecision had always plagued her to the point where sometimes she gave up fighting it all together. "Choose wisely, because your next question isn't going to be near as easy." And then she winked, a fleeting and impossibly sweet gesture, just as she had done earlier in the hallway of the school.
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Post by ajora on Mar 15, 2010 22:16:23 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] so take me and make me
WEAKENED AND SAVE ME [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] this hate that you gave me
KEEPS SAYING THE SAME THING [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
"Parfait."
She could say that again. And again. And again. Delacoix would no sooner grow tired of hearing the beautiful french flow from her lips like silk, than relinquish her into the arms of another man (or woman, whatever...) at this point. This connection was something he would not dare forsake. Whether she wanted friendship or more, he knew he'd be there.
"If I don't get some proper motivation I know I'll be living out of my suitcases for as long as humanly possible." The soft squeeze around his hand adding more and more reassurance to the thoughts of the Vampire. She wasn't letting go of him. Delacoix felt so very human at this point, heat of emotion flooding underneath his skin.
Delacoix had to wonder just how things had come to be the way they were. Fortune truly smiled upon him if things were actually entirely as they appeared. The most obvious of which was Rebel being available. If one were to just gaze upon Rebel, they'd assume that she'd have someone, anyone, as there was no doubt she could have any person she really desired. Yet, she was advocating the night alone with just him? Part of him wondered if she truly knew the risks of her desires, or if she too was just swept up in the whole Vampire fad that had sadly befallen the nation. Trying to put a positive spin on such a vile being... Delacoix always resented the film industry for this.
It was... Uplifting.
Self worth like he'd never known began to re-kindle, only magnified by the bright glow Rebels grin. "So," she began, in an animated, humourous fashion, "First question: sushi, Chinese, or pasta?" Delacoix was tempted to blurt out "all of the above", as it was her birthday, and the leftovers would make for an interesting breakfast the morning after. "Choose wisely, because your next question isn't going to be near as easy." She certainly knew how to tug at the Vampires' curiosity. Already looking past the trivial decision of dinner (trival because being a Vampire, he didn't particularily care about human food), he had to wonder what this latter of questions was to be. Was it healthy that someone could dominate him with a mere wink?
Delacoix masked himself with a very dramatic face of deep thought, contemplating his choice as if it were to decide the fate of his next thousand years. Stroking his imaginary beard, Delacoix mused aloud; "I've certainly had too much fish in my life. And I just don't trust Chinese food..." Chinese food was just all sorts of sketchy. And with pasta, the possibilities were nearly endless for the morning. Assuming he was still there in the morning. "So I say let's get some pasta, but it is your birthday. Don't let me tell you what to eat, I don't even eat," he chuckled, somehow comfortable eluding to his Vampirism already. A sarcastic determinism filled his face in anticipation of the question to follow.
"And this detrimental second question would be?"
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Post by · Rebel La'Beau. on Mar 28, 2010 19:28:26 GMT -5
Rebel was trying her damnedest to keep her thoughts focused on the right here and now, on the moment that they were making and on Delacoix's ardent gaze, but her mind had a ferocious, impatient tendency to wander ahead, to question and speculate about the road before her. It was a combination of curiosity and neuroticism, a gesture only sightly devious in nature as she tried to sort out what her real intentions with this boy were. In the end however, all she could discern was that she found him quite lovely, and he made her feel lighter than she had in quite some time, and perhaps that was something worth holding on to.
She stepped away from him as he made a decision about dinner, giving his hand another squeeze before finally letting go so that she could rifle through her purse that sat atop the kitchen counter and retrieve her phone. Her Blackberry hadn't been quite as damaged upon their moment of impact as Delacoix's had, but it was still acting rather shifty. Smacking it against her palm a few times, the light flickered and then turned on, and Rebel hurried to her contact list before the cell had a chance to blackout on her again. She dialed Mario's Trattoria, which wasn't necessarily her favorite place for pasta, but it was the only one who's number she had remembered to save. Pacing back and forth behind her kitchen island, Rebel placed her order, buying enough food for a small banquet between the linguini putenesca and baked ziti, the fettucini alfredo with garlic knots and an antipasto salad on the side. Looking at her, you would never guess that the girl ate like someone who had just come off a deserted island, but for some reason, she had always possessed a wholly unnatural appetite for her size.
After giving them her new address - which took a second or two for her to recall - she hung up, turning her attention back to her guest at hand. Her incandescent stare lingered on him for a long minute, not saying anything as she leaned over the counter watching him, just secretive and amused with her chin resting gracefully in the palm of her hand. Finally, she motioned him closer with her index finger, the expression she wore not giving away much besides a coyness that obviously came very naturally to her.
She watched him for a second longer, turning something over in her mind before finally asking her second question. "Why did you tell me?"
The demureness of her smirk could hardly hide the wild curiosity that burned in her gold eyes. Rebel was assuming of course, that Delacoix wasn't exactly as upfront about his condition with every stranger he bumped into as he had been with her, which said either something very special about her, or very negative about his intentions with her. Though, she was quite sure by this point that he hadn't told her simply because he was planning on burying her later that night, so she needed to know what had possessed him to share this secret with her. How did he even know that she planned on keeping it?
Part of it was simply pure narcissism. She wanted to know what he saw in her, what he trusted, because the idea that a complete stranger could spot something worth admiring, maybe even something worth holding on to in her, was terrifying.
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