A Less Than Enthusiastic Connoisseur ((OPEN))

[Aubin]

The vampyr Aubin was not the sort of man who much appreciated poetry, much less poetry readings, and although he had never come out publicly against either form of entertainment anyone who knew him even slightly could imagine the depths of his apathy for both. It was thus a surprise to those who knew Aubin even in passing that ten days after his altercation with Bruis (which was well enough known among Vampyr circles) the Vampyr sat looking a little worse for wear at the a reception for just such an event.

Even more surprising, perhaps, was that the vampyr was actually dressed in attire appropriate to the evening. Aubin’s tendency to under dress was well known, was indeed expected by those who knew Aubin or the art world in general. He attended even his own openings in clothes that would better suit a day labourer that a highly famous, highly sought-after artist and attended the galas dedicated to others in nothing better. His current outfit, then, was unexpected in its quality and appropriateness; slacks, a shirt, a sweater vest (red cashmere!) and a tie graced the artist along with boots that had been recently shined and a bright white, impossible-to-miss bandage that covered half his throat and peaked out over his starched collar.

The author of Aubin’s change was not, of course, Aubin himself but rather his lover, friend, manager and, recently, caretaker, Illiam. The younger vampyr stood near to where Aubin sat, chatting politely with an elderly mortal while keeping a close eye on his charge. Aubin had borne his outfit and the evening of experimental sound poetry well; so well, in fact, that Illiam had grown suspicious and was now watching him intensely least Aubin suddenly snap and do something unforgivable over the wine and cheese hors devours which, Illiam noted with an internal sigh, was highly possible considering the amount of alcohol Aubin had consumed during the reading. Keeping Aubin’s mouth full had seemed, at the time, the best way of avoiding an outburst at the reading but now, Illiam worried, it might have invited another.

[Vae]

There was something about the night time hours, Vae mused as she wandered through the city of Valir towards her destination, that simply appeals to the senses. She had never cared much for the beauty of the nocturnal hours until she had become sick and started working the slower night shift at the hospital. In between checking on patients and doing midnight bed turnings there was plenty of time for an intern to simply sit in an empty room and admire the quiet of the world outside, a state that was very rarely if ever witness during the lighter hours of the standard twenty four hour calendar period. People were different, the air was different, the very land underwent a change that seemed to go deeper than dropping temperatures and the radiant glow of the moon. She liked it.

And recently, she had taken to spending quiet moments enjoying that peace more and more often. She had a great deal more time to herself recently, and while she had thought she would find the lack of things to do absolutely maddening she found that really she didn't mind the idle time so much after all. She had spent her entire life being a non-stop go-getter, and while she would give anything, anything, to return to that fast-paced lifestyle she also realized that fighting with her body wasn't doing her any good at all. And there were upsides to the down time. She had finally, after many years of determined power-walking, learned how to mosey.

Moseying, she decided as she made her way from the South quarter and into Parliament Square, was a very neat trick. It was an action that came from the hip, with your leg swinging lazily and with little control out in front of you, not far but a mere few inches. And then you repeated your process with the other leg. The effect was a hyponotizing rhythmic lull, one that hardly needed any effort to propogate which left your mind free to wander, and wander it did. She noticed the architecture which, she realized somewhat belatedly, she had always loved. And then there were the noises, which despite what people said about the state of the world all seemed to be happy ones: laughter coming from an apartment window, a rowdy song coming from a pub, a tv blaring a late night punchline. Her chin tilted slightly to the right as she caught the sound of something else on the air, and noticed a small convention of people which she immediately recognized as a poetry reading (because poetry readings were obligatory social exposure for a college student these days). She meandered nearer (meandering, too, was a very cool skill) and with a blink of surprise she recognized two of the people in attendance. Since it seemed to be over, she approached the whitewashed chairs, heading for the corner where her acquaintances were stashed away.

Illiam seemed already engaged in conversation, so instead she approached Aubin's seat from behind. She approached slowly (since she was incapable of moving at any quick pace anymore, now that she had learned to mosey) and tapped his far shoulder as a ploy before rounding his near one and coming to stand before him and finally revealing her identity. She smiled softly at him and waved shortly in greeting. "How are you feeling?" she began, letting her eyes drop very briefly to his bandaged throat. "Illiam told me you had an accident when I stopped by one night, but you weren't well enough to see anyone. Did you get the flowers?" She scrunched her nose. "I didn't think you would like them but I didn't know what else to do." She shrugged. Honesty is the best policy, right?

[Aubin]

Despite Illiam’s worst fears Aubin was actually able to maintain a semblance of manners even after several hours of mind numbing boredom…or at least he could with those he cared to. Vae’s unexpected arrival was met with a smile and a rush of relief; finally the artist had someone to talk to and, more importantly, someone who was unlikely to hold forth an extended conversation on the ‘genius’ of the featured poet’s sub-guttural utterances.

“I did,” said Aubin, smiling faintly at Vae before leveling a sustained glare at the man in the chair next to him that was fierce enough to make the other man leave, “thank you. I hope Illiam sent a note…if he didn’t, I’m sure he will soon. He’s been keeping track of and responding to all the well wishes. I’ve been unable to keep up with them all with…”

Rather than finishing his sentence Aubin gestured to his bandage, fully aware that Vae had already seen it. The intern didn’t have to see the wound to know that any serious injury in such a delicate location would lay anyone low for quite some time. Indeed Vae with all her medical training would no doubt be surprised if she realized how very bad the wound was and how very amazing (and impossible, for a mortal) it was that Aubin now say before her steadily becoming drunk on a cocktail of pain killers and room temperature wine.

“I’m fine,” added the artist, gesturing now for Vae to take the vacated seat at his side, “recovering slowly but surely. I should be well enough in another few days. And you? How are you? On that scale, and others?”

[Vae]

"I'm fine," Vae responded with a smile, taking the offered seat to Aubin's left. She straightened her skirt beneath her and left her hands beneath her legs as she studied the familiar pattern on the fabric. She raised her eyes as she continued, and indeed the change in her would be more than noticeable for someone who could not only see but also read minds. She was incredibly at peace, perhaps not a perfect peace but nonetheless one that was achievable with a little effort and that was better than nothing. "I told everyone, like you suggested. And you were right, of course." She shrugged humbly, giving Aubin a nontheless grateful look. "Thanks," she offered simply for his good advice. She crossed her legs at the ankle beneath her chair and moved her hands to her lap, sitting back as she continued.

"I also quit my work at the hospital, at least officially. I still go to visit with my patients when I can, but I decided that it was worth it to me to be able to skive off whenever I feel like it, and I can afford my apartment for a few more months..." She pursed her lips into a line in what could have been a mental shrug. She didn't have to plan so far ahead anymore, she realized recently. It was liberating, if not a little scary.

"So whenever you are ready to get started on your painting, I'm available," she finished at last. She didn't flatter herself that his one work of art, the one she was modeling for, would be enough to inspire him to get well quickly but getting back in the game was important for any patient who had suffered a major injury and it was clear from his bandages that Aubin had suffered one that was potentially life-threatening. He would need to get back to his work, his art. There was no harm in a little gentle encouragement, right?

[Aubin]

Aubin raised a brow and tilted his head slightly, the action inducing pain which in turn induced a wince. Something feral glinted in his eyes at the shock of discomfort and truth be told his fangs very nearly descended. He was still a moment, riding the wave of pain, and then he very carefully pressed his hand to the bandage and applied a gentle, reassuring pressure.

"Good for you," he said softly, the words slightly breathy as the pain ebbed away, "that's a big step. If you find you are running short of money, let me know." He smiled faintly. "Or if you just feel like buying something foolishly expensive, for that matter."

The hand dropped away from the wound slowly and he gazed at Vae with a level, clear stare. "You don't need to thank me. I know something about dying." He shrugged. "You're lucky to have the time to plan your death, to do the things you want to. Many don't. Not," he shrugged, "that that makes up for dying of course. But its a plus. And something you can be a bit snooty about. Might as well, it's not like God is going to strike you down hmm?"

[Autor]

-bump just in case-

[Vae]

She grinned at the idea of any God with sense striking her down. “Be a bit of wasted effort, wouldn't it?” she agreed. The cancer was getting rid of her quick enough as it was. She was silent a moment in what may have appeared as contemplation, but in truth was really only enjoyment of the night and the company of someone who, inexplicably, seemed to understand what she was going through. She had thought that if she did find someone she could confide in the words would come tumbling out, but now that she had a confidant, seemingly willing enough, she found she had little to say that she hadn't already canvassed with her friends and family in the last few days. In fact, since her last conversation with Aubin she had felt oddly at ease with things. It was uncanny how well his advice worked.

In fact, she eyed him curiously as she sat next to him, it only just occurring to her that the language he used was a little bit off, too. He had called her out for speaking of her life in the past tense. She realized he made a similar faux pas, except he talked about dying as if he had experienced it first hand. Her mind jumped to many wild conclusions. Had he lost someone dear to him? Was he perhaps a survivor himself? Curiosity got the better of her, because she finally had to ask.

“Aubin? If this is too personal you can say so,” she acquiesced before she even began, her head tilted inquisitively, “but, how do you know about dying?” Her light blue eyes watched him without suspicion, ready to accept whatever perfectly mundane explanation he gave and completely unknowing that his experience with dying was more first hand than she could possibly imagine.

[Aubin]

Aubin turned and stared at her, utterly silent at first, his eyes focused steadily, intensely on hers. Elsewhere Illiam had stopped his conversation as well and was staring at the pair, a be-cheesed cracker in one hand. An unheard conversation, unheard by Vae at least, was playing out between the two. Illiam was the voice of opposition and mercurial reason. The girl didn't need to be told, he argued. Certainly not until the painting was done. At least wait until the painting was done--then if the girl freaked out and took to the hills it wouldn't matter. Aubin listened, but remained unswayed and still perilously balanced on the knife's edge of revealing Valir's greatest secret.

He looked away suddenly. "You don't want to know. It would change everything."

[Vae]

((EEE I'm so glad you replied. ))

Her dark eyebrows knitted themselves together as she looked at Aubin though he steadily evaded her gaze. She was unsure how to receive his refusal. He hadn't said that it was too personal, which she would have accepted. Though he had given her stellar advice and even been the first to figure out her secret, and though she had opened up to him a great deal during their last meeting, he had not shared a great deal about himself. She supposed she only felt she might ask him such a probing question because he had been so forgiving when she had asked about Illiam and caused such a strong response in him. And anyway, she was always more curious than she should be.

But his language and tone were not that of someone who thought his company was prying too much, or even someone offended by her presumption. She wasn't sure what his language was, but she was curious whether she really wouldn't want to know or whether he didn't want her to know. She was too polite to push a man who was really little better than a stranger for more information, though she at once hoped that if he wanted to talk about it he had someone who would and also that the secret wasn't something that would come back to haunt her. She supposed that despite barely knowing him, she just genuinely liked her new boss, and would be disappointed by the idea of his being as alone as she had felt the last few weeks or to have him fall from grace in her eyes.

"Okay," she agreed after a pause, nodding and looking forward. After half a minute or so, though, a gnawing question she tried desperately to repress bubbled up despite her efforts. "Aubin?" she began in the same childlike tone, "Will you promise me you aren't an axemurderer?"

[Aubin]

((Yup. And Aldan has a reply too!))

Aubin chuckled and turned to face the young mortal once more. He was slouched in his seat now, watching her idly. His gaze was no longer intense but light, maybe even fond. A smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth at least, there was no denying that.

"No," he said. "Neither Illiam nor I are axe murderers." He paused a moment then, deciding on something, he continued. "We're something quite different entirely. But we pose no danger to you. Or, rather, we have elected to pose no danger to you. And you are likely all the safer for it now. From everyone else that is like us."

He paused and glanced around the room, eyes scanning the crowd. To Aubin the vampyrs stood out among the humans like electric torches among candles. There were dozens of them here, easily 50 or more. And for the most part the humans the surrounded them, stood talking to them, were as ignorant as Vae. They had no idea what they were making small talk with and neither did she for the moment.

[Vae]

If Vae had been confused by Aubin's last statement she was positively baffled by his new explanation. She was a far cry from those novel characters who immediately begin to suspect something mythical or otherworldly. They were not axe murderers but they did pose a danger to some people, just not her. Though she did not think of folklore rumors did come to mind, all criminal and sinister, which did not match up at all to the warm look she thought she had seen on his face or indeed the mentoring way he had helped her with her problems the last time she had spoken to him. The idea of Aubin posing a danger to anyone seemed foreign and made her a little sad.

And Illiam, she corrected herself, turning her gaze to that man. And there were still others who were 'like them.' A group of people all involved in the same crime perhaps? She had seen this news show about people who sold young women into slavery in far off places. But what did that have to do with death. Her clinician's mind couldn't make it out.

She shook her head. "I don't understand." She couldn't tell if he was sticking to his guns about not telling her or if he had changed his mind. "What are you?" If he turned her down again she wouldn't be surprised, but it didn't hurt to ask. Twice.

[Aubin]

He considered the girl (she was a girl to him, adult or no, for she was young and he was, well, he preferred to not think of it as old, but certainly older), and debated if he should answer. He could certainly refuse. It wasn't as if she could force him to tell. And if she were keen to know and worked hard enough she might well find out on her own. Questions directed to the right people, questions that specifically asked what he and Illiam were, as opposed to who, would probably eventually find an answer. Then she would have her curiosity sated and he would not have to slog through the mess of revealing Valir's otherworldly side to a human. Most didn't take it well and Aubin was certainly not practiced in the art of gently giving potentially distressing news.

But then again, she might ask the wrong person. Say she asked a Brudjan, for example. Any of their number would no doubt be pleased to reveal Aubin's vampyr origins. They would not do so kindly however and it was unlikely that Vae would survive the experience. A terrified human so newly freed of her ignorance would make a perfect snack or, worse, fodder for a new member of their fold.

Aubin grimaced at this and leaned forward. He rested the fingertips of one hand (clean and paint-free for once!) on Vae's arm and asked, "Do you trust me? You know that I am a danger although I attest to be no danger to you out of choice. Given that, do you trust me enough to walk with me a bit? Revealing such secrets here, among so many, would not be appreciated."

He canted his head toward an alley just beyond the hum and lights of the reading party. It was out of the way enough that none of the humans and very few of the vampyrs would be able to hear their conversation. It also gave Vae two ways to escape should she feel the need; away into the hubbub of the current party or alone into the silent network of alleys and access roads.

[Vae]

Vae considered Aubin a moment in silence, but the number of thoughts that raced through her mind was a testament to how amazing the human mind is even without the supplement of vampyr blood. She realized, perhaps belatedly, that this secret of Aubin's might be much bigger than a simple criminal controversy. In turn, that made her consider his first words to her on the subject, that she didn't want to know. She now considered that perhaps he was right in the first place. If the question was about 'what' he was and it wasn't just about where he got his money, this might be, for lack of any better description, bigger than she was or wanted to be.

But then, she was a doctor, a scientist, a mind that craved knowledge as much as her lungs craved oxygen. How could she not find out what was going on with him? She quickly realized she couldn't. She would have to know, now that she knew there was something to it, and the question then became, as Aubin had rightly summarized, whether or not she trusted him.

So she nodded. "Yes," she answered plainly, standing from her seat. She offered her hand to be lead to wherever he thought it might be safe to discuss this 'secret.'  

[Aubin]

He nodded and stood slowly, cautious to not stand suddenly least he reel. Vampyr or not the savage wound to his throat was only slowly healing and he was still very much at it's mercy. When he was sure he was steady on his feet he began to walk toward the dim alley, trusting Vae to follow. He felt Illiam brush over his mind psychically but he ignored the caress and the offer that was enveloped within it. One vampyr would be frightening enough he suspect. Two, even two in dinner party clothing, might be overwhelming.

He didn't stop until he reached the pool of light spilling down from an overhead light midway down the alley. As far as alleys went this was, thankfully, a clean one. The neighbourhood was a good one and the various eateries, galleries, and businesses that backed onto it were all clearly invested in maintaining a dirt and stink free perimeter. Aubin wondered if it was out of an innate desire for tidiness or if the proprietors were Aurillians eager to make a clear, visual distinction between their sector of the city and the stinking, ramshackle quarter the Brudjans lorded over.

Aubin leaned against the wall, shoulders and back pressed to the bricks and stone, and eyed the girl quietly. He hoped that pressed to the wall he was less imposing than he would be blocking, even slightly, either of her escape routes. His silence continued for quite some time before he spoke, either hand slipping into a pocket.

"This city, Valir, isn't yours. It doesn't belong to your kind. It hasn't for generations. It belongs to us, even though most of you don't know we exist. Even your growing numbers won't help, should the tables turn. It is ours. It will always be ours. The only question is which tribe will crush the other."

He paused, staring up at the light, then turned back to the girl. His fangs, now visible, glinted under the glow of the streetlight.

"Valir is a city of vampyrs, Vae. It is populated by vampyrs and humans. I am vampyr. Illiam is as well. Most of the people at the reading we just left are. You asked how I knew about dying. I know about dying because I died. I've been there. I just had the misfortune to survive it."

[Vae]

Completely lost to social proprieties and etiquette, Vae's mouth fell open in shock. If she hadn't seen the fangs descend for herself, she would never have believed him, told him off, and never spoken to him. How funny that having the story confirmed actually stopped her from having that reaction. Instead, she was forced to stare at him for a very long while in surprise so strong that as a medical student watching herself she would have been seriously alarmed.

At last she blinked and tried to formulate words, but nothing clever or even intelligible came to her. It seemed that only more staring could make this make sense, so that's what she did though thankfully the second bout was of much shorter duration. She then looked down to the ground, her mind racing to make sense of it.

“I don't believe in vampyr,” she tried to explain, not because she was denying Aubin's claim but because that would explain why she was so shocked. “Or zombies or ghosts or any other form of undead. It doesn't make sense, medically. Or naturally. Or any way, really.” She looked up pointedly at the place where she had seen his fangs moments before. There was no medical explanation for that, either.

“So...” she struggled to come up with some sort of forwarding of the conversation. “Do you... kill people? I mean to live, is that all true? You drink blood?”