InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Ja, for sure, from Sweden...."

Susannah Alexandra Hattington-Hallmeyer (vintage_fraud) wrote in halcyon_halls,
@ 2008-09-18 15:56:00

Entry tags:

sasha, verushka

Week 18: Thursday (morning)
Who: Sasha & Verushka
When: Thursday (morning)
Where: Verushka's office
What: ~~Cold War II~~ Guidance

The girl in the mirror looked worried. Her eyes were uncertain, unfocused, her mouth was taut; her skin looked too pale to even blame on the bathroom’s callous lighting. A wayward strand of hair, stuck damply to the edge of her check. The look of it—a dark spot—reminded Sasha of something, what was it…

A coal miner’s tattoo. No, not that. Gunpowder. Yes, that was it. Firing a heavy handgun incorrectly had once left a measure of gunpowder temporarily imbedded in her cheek. Kostya had been furious; Josiah, amused. The French called such beauty marks “courage marks”, he told her. Her father had a similar small shadow on his face, so dim you could almost it or think it a trick of light. He told them it was a birthmark, and Sasha believed him then.

Sherry never did. But then her twin was always the skeptic, the sleuth. She never gave up, not till she ferreted out the meaning of every story. A real bloodhound, Papa called her.

Oh, Daddy dearest, if you only knew…

The sink porcelain was cool beneath Sasha’s palms. Too cool, actually: she was feverish. That happened sometimes if her metabolism kicked into overtime. And that happened when—stop. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the dreams. Don’t think about the craving.

And don’t think about poor, foolish Kaspar Moreno. Kaspar, the ace, the joker, the unlikely, and mostly unconvincing, criminal. Kaspar, who bought Sasha her first real Mexican beer. Kaspar, who laughed when she explained Tex-Mex. Kaspar, who saw the sky as a doorway, never a limit. Kaspar, who wouldn’t kiss and couldn’t dance. Kaspar, who was uncouth, and brash, and funny, and her friend.

Kaspar, who had her little sister slaughtered to prove she could.

A tremor started in Sasha’s throat; she shut it down with pure willpower. The same fortitude hardened her hands, made them steady and quick as she repainted the girl in the mirror into a more recognizable icon. Foundation, eye shadow, mascara, blush, lipstick: Sasha was a veteran virtuoso with each lying, little tool. Screw the whole “warm” and “cool” colors myth, or that pale skin called for dark foundation, or the conceited “not everyone can wear read” nonsense. If you know how, Sasha recited, you can. But for a moment, the mantra failed and Sasha’s hand slowed.

Did Sherry operate under a similar motto? Did she excuse Kaspar’s murder with such logic? Did she plan to continue, like before—a familiar, sour nausea rose in Sasha’s stomach. She reigned her mind back to the task at hand, turning a critical eye over the now made-up face (good), the fixed hair (neat), the careful clothing (chic, confident).

Her silver cross gleamed against the yellow dress. Pretty, but suspicious. In a school with heavy vampire population, showing up at her guide’s office with holy jewelry on display might spark uncomfortable questions. At the very least it would plant certain doubts in the woman’s mind. Sasha didn’t want any of that tainting the first impression. Slipping off the fine chain, her fingers helplessly closed over the pendant. The bit of silver felt small and serious as a bullet in her fist. Sasha tucked the necklace away in her purse, and pushed open the bathroom door. She was running late.

Outside, Dreizen immediately rose at her reemergence. The look in his dark eyes made Sasha kneel down and spend a precious minute petting the worried beastie. “S’ok, puppy. No point running this far to fall apart now, eh? We’re made of sterner stuff—and are just too pretty to quit. Oh, yes, we are, yes we are, who’s my pretty, pretty brute?”

The Doberman nipped her hands affectionately in response. Giving his sleek head one last pat, Sasha headed off towards her guide’s office.

Sherry wasn’t supposed to know about Kaspar. That she did meant one of two things: either Sasha’s seal against their bond had weakened or her sister’s psychic ability was progressing faster than originally predicted. Luckily, there were ways to deal with both possibilities.

And it’s time I tried them out. With a little professional help, of course.

“Madame Solovyov?” Knock, knock went one determined knuckle. “It’s Susannah Hallmeyer. May I come in?”

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eternal_dancer
2008-09-23 06:32 pm UTC (link)

The first meeting with a student was a daunting occasion. Verushka had tried to gather whatever information she could since she'd arrived, learned as much as possible so that she might be better prepared to answer whatever questions Sasha would have - she didn't want to disappoint on her first day on the job as 'guide' after all. Hopefully, even if she didn't have the information needed, she at least knew a bit more about who to ask to track down the missing details. She'd even made sure to wake up early, track down one of her more professional outfits - her sense of style was a bit...unique - and made sure to leave for her office a little ahead of the meeting time they'd agreed upon.

She stopped by the kitchen long enough to brew a cup of black tea and grab a bowl of fruit from the refrigerator. Carrying the two back to her office, she left the door open a crack as she took a seat at her desk, firing up her computer while she started in on her breakfast. Her early arrival also ensured that she could check her e-mail, both personal and school, ahead of Sasha's arrival. Her pending dinner meeting with Vallis was added to her calendar - an event she wasn't quite how she felt about just yet. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him, that much was a shared trait between the two, and Verushka was positive each would be on their guard the evening they met. On the other hand, she had always gotten a kick out of her ability to unnerve him with little to no effort.

The knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and, setting aside her empty bowl, she moved to pull it open. "Good morning, Susannah. Please," she stepped aside to let her in, "come in and have a seat." For all her years as an English speaker, all the other dialects she'd mastered, the faintest hint of her native Russian tongue was one thing she could never rid herself of. Once Sasha was in, Verushka closed the door behind her - hopefully it would grant them a bit of privacy. "So," she moved around to take the seat behind her desk, "what can I do for you, Miss Hallmeyer?"

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vintage_fraud
2008-09-24 10:13 am UTC (link)

If Sasha had been in normal, top form she would’ve figured it out immediately. If the rain hadn’t been a constant, aggravating weight on her senses, she’d have noticed it. If her dreams had been refreshing instead of draining—if her temper was intact—if her mind was calm—if—if—if…if things were otherwise then, perhaps, when Sasha looked at her guide she would’ve seen the facts.

But they weren’t, and she didn’t, and so when Sasha looked at Verushka she smiled cordially and stepped into the woman’s office unperturbed. The note of Russian was reassuringly familiar, as was the scent of tea (black). Such things had once been constants in Sasha’s life.

“Thank you,” she sat down, neatly tucking one ankle behind the other, and arranging her purse and the small gift bag by the chair leg. Dreizen settled discretely besides the girl. Not wanting to worry her guide at the absence of a leash, Sasha nodded at the Doberman candidly. “He can wait outside if you prefer. Though I assure you he’s quite well-behaved—a veritable teddy bear, really.”

And if Sasha had been in better shape, she would’ve noticed the apprehensive light in her dog’s eyes.

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eternal_dancer
2008-09-25 09:30 am UTC (link)

"Oh no, is fine," Verushka waved off any worry Sasha might have about her feelings towards Dreizen being present for their little meeting, especially sans leash. She rather liked dogs, actually - and besides, she was guessing that he created a certain level of comfort for the young girl that might deteriorate once he left the office.

"I'm afraid my knowledge of Halycon is still limited, but I promise to try and answer whatever questions you have," she lowered herself back into the chair behind her desk, crossing one leg over the other, giving Sasha her full attention. "If I have no answers, I will find someone who does." That sounded like a good way to go into this, especially when you had no idea what your 'guidee' was about to ask. Given that Sasha had been at the school longer than Verushka had, she would wager she wasn't going to ask about where the library was located.

"What is it that I can help you with?" Veru didn't really like dancing around topics, not when you could get right to the heart of things. Plus, there were classes in the coming hours, they couldn't sit cooped up in her office all day.

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vintage_fraud
2008-09-25 01:35 pm UTC (link)

Down to business, then. Good.

“First off, I’d like to change my classes. Trim the fat, as it were.” Unlocking her purse, she slid a neatly pressed list across the desk. Her schedule was printed boldly on the paper. “Philosophy and astronomy. Keeping up with the former in my condition is proving decidedly unprofitable; I waste more time acquiring the necessary material than I do studying it. As for the former…well. I’d prefer not to have any obligations after dark.”

Academic or otherwise, she added silently. Fingers laced, Sasha regarded her guide with a steady, firm gaze the color of hazelnuts. “I apologize for not knowing the procedure for this. Unfortunately, my current schedule was composed by a third party and I fear he was slightly remiss in choosing the classes.”

Because what the hell was Dr. Quinn thinking putting that much “fang” in her timetable? She’d keep biology—for now—but dealing with another vampire teacher twice in a row, half of it after dark, was preposterous.

Immersion therapy be damned, dottore. He should’ve known that sort of thing was something she’d do on her own terms only. Which brought Sasha to the second, less pleasant, part of the agenda…

“I realize that Halcyon doesn’t afford degrees and as such there are no requisites to satisfy, but I’d like to know what’s necessary to qualify for independent study. You see,” Sasha continued in a convincing tone of honey and silk, “I’d like to do a project, one made possible by Halcyon’s “diverse” environment. But it ventures beyond my current circle of classes and instructors, and I’m rather leery about approaching teachers whose classes I don’t attend—nor qualify for. What’s more, the project might require outside sources of an unusual nature. I’d like to verify the protocol for bringing anything atypical into the school.”

And why the heck was Dreizen sticking so close? The Doberman’s body was pressing firmly against Sasha’s leg. It was odd, Dizzy knew to keep a polite distance when in such settings; he should’ve been lounging in a comfy corner of the room, attentive but relaxed.

Something’s not right here, whispered Sasha’s nerves.

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eternal_dancer
2008-09-29 09:17 am UTC (link)

Down to business was the manner Verushka preferred, especially when it remained to be seen if she could even truly help. Though of course she would try, follow-through might require another day or two before it actually came to fruition.

Leaning forward, Veru lifted the printed schedule that Sasha had produced from where it rested on top of her desk. Her eyes skimmed over the classes listed, listening as the young girl began her explanation as to why she'd want to alter the set schedule. "Not to pry, but what is the condition you speak of affecting philosophy?" If there was a medical reason preventing Sasha from truly benefiting from the class, then surely it would be simple to remove her from the roster. As for Astronomy, perhaps there was another earth science that could replace it, seeing as not much could be done to study the stars in the daylight.

"Is quite alright," Verushka assured her with a light smile, "the procedure for this is not known to me, either. I'm sure it will be simple to figure out." She set the print-out aside on her desk, pausing for a moment to take a sip from the coffee mug that sat before her - one of the few things she could still stomach. "Did you have some classes in mind you might like to replace the two you wish to drop with?" If not, they'd need to consult those still available and see where the openings remained. It seemed this would be a learning process for the both of them.

The next bit, this information about a 'project', was most intriguing. Given that it was true, Halcyon didn't grant degrees for classes completed, it seemed fair to say an independent study that didn't harm the protections of the school or any faculty or students would most likely be approved. Of course, she'd need more information on whatever it was that Sasha had in mind before she could inquire about it in depth. "That is an answer I do not have off the top of my head. If you'd like to tell me more about this project of yours or perhaps put together some sort of written proposal, I will find out what is required for such a thing to actually take place." She felt a bit bad for not having all the answers Sasha sought, but it truly was too early in her tenure to know such things for sure.

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vintage_fraud
2008-10-01 09:51 am UTC (link)

“Alexia without agraphia.” The answer was given readily, Sasha’s cordial expression seemingly unaffected, but the admission left a stale bitterness in her mouth. “I can’t read, madam. I lost the ability three years ago.”

And for a girl who could previously sight-translate medieval French and absorb pages of formula within minutes, illiteracy was a crippling stab to the ego. Years of study, of preparation and exams, of knowledge and pride, and for what? She could recite Dante in the original—but couldn’t read the back of a cereal box. It was pathetic.

The resentment temporarily distracted Sasha from the nagging tension in her gut. “I can still write, but it stops making sense the moment the ink leaves the pen. The enterprise quickly becomes an exercise in frustration.” She moved on to the second question with an elegant shrug. “I still have the four other classes to satisfy Halcyon’s academic requirements. Certainly, a richer schedule would be wonderful but..." Another liquid shrug. “There’s the Fact or Fiction class except, well, I wouldn’t last beyond the month.”

Not without squeezing a pound of flesh and a quart of blood out of the course...weekly, she added mentally. Her godfather’s fault, of course; Josiah hadn’t know how to raise a child, so he created a walking encyclopedia with a budding superiority complex instead.

The memory sparked against something in the room now, something…unsettling. Annoyed at what she perceived to be undeserved anxiety twinges—Good God, am I so off-balance that a simple meeting is too much?—Sasha let the thread of memory sink in and uncoil. Dreizen solid, upset presence against her shin was gaining more and more weight in her mind.

What am I not seeing here?

“The outline of it is yet to be finalized, but the focus is to be on succeeding transformations. On how the consequence of a change is a change in itself, and maybe the greater force because of it. I’ve spent most of my life in an alchemist’s keeping, you see,” Sasha added the last with a touch of irony in her tone. “Change is a familiar concept. And now that I am here, in Halcyon...well.”

The convincing tone lightened, become bright with sincerity and admiration. "Undeniably, Halcyon is a place unlike any other...and so are its contents. Some of us are here due to being born different, some due to being made so. But what about those who were both, born and changed, those who had unique inborn potential and then underwent alteration?

“I’d like to better understand how a supernatural change affects supernatural potential, and what prospects it creates in the subject. Specifically, it’s the inner metaphysics that interest me. Halcyon is an almost perfect setting for the exam. First, its long history and extensive alumnae list, have deposited a wealth exceptional first-hand records in the library. Second, the staff is not only a walking testament to successful change and adaptation, they’re also firsthand witnesses to successes and failures of just the sort of transformation I seek to examine. And thirdly, there are the students, in particular, there are many of the sort I’d like to focus on, the—"

Realization burst in Sasha’s mind like a water balloon. She blinked, the rest of her pleasantly arranged expression temporarily frozen, and in that same moment the gaze on Verushka turned the pale, wintry color of faded ink.

"...vampires,” she said. Her voice was calm and empty. “This school has a lot of vampires.”

And I am fool.

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eternal_dancer
2008-10-02 08:41 am UTC (link)

Verushka nodded lightly, only vaguely familiar with the condition that had stolen such a treasured ability from her. "I am sorry to hear that. You seem to be coping well." Had she not confessed right then, Veru might have never guessed that she had such an affliction. After all, Sasha was well spoken and obviously intelligent, it might have taken awhile to realize there was something slightly off about her. Surely there was a way to work around it to make sure her education didn't suffer.

It was obvious that the young woman wanted a bit more of a challenge, though Verushka couldn't help but feel as though there was something else that was prompting this change of schedule. "I don't think switching those two will be difficult. I would suggest finding two other classes to fill those periods while the independent study is looked into. If there is no issue, then you may be able to do that work during the hours that will now be open." Again, she wasn't sure on any of this - it was best to have a back up plan, just in case.

She truly was trying to help, though the warm and fuzzy compassionate bit wasn't exactly her strong suit. There was something about Verushka that seemed to set people on edge to, for lack of a better word, 'creep them out.' Perhaps it was the pale shade of her skin or that piercingly cold color of her gaze....when she was blond, all of those features together did seem slightly...alien. So far, Sasha seemed relatively unaffected, though Veru mused she didn't really know the student well enough to read her just yet.

"Once you have your concept finalized, I would recommend putting together an official write up to submit to the headmaster, this may help you get credits in place of the classes you want to drop. So far, it sounds like good idea, but we must make sure to get it approved." There didn't seem to be any risk to other students involved in her little study and so Veru couldn't imagine anyone truly having an issue, but she wasn't out to start breaking rules her first week there.

Sasha's passion for the idea was obvious, even if the whole point seemed a bit blurred to someone on the outside. She was animated, talking a mile a minute about what she'd like to try, when all of the sudden she seemed to just...trail off. Ah, vampires...a light smile touched Verushka's lips, so that's what this was about. It made sense, now. "And does that make you uncomfortable? Vampires, I mean."

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vintage_fraud
2008-10-06 09:48 am UTC (link)

Having the missing jigsaw piece click into place clarified the picture mercilessly. Looking at the woman through a now clear lens made Sasha feel inexcusably stupid about missing the obvious. The wintry skin, the ice needles in her gaze, the cool shock of blond hair: on their own, each feature would be striking, yet humane. But together, the collection made a very different portrait.

One that didn’t make Sasha feel any less of an idiot.

And that little cat-eyed smile, cнегурочка*, isn’t helping. But it’d take more than a snowball from hell to get Sasha to admit her dread out loud. Instead, she spread a smile across her face, its line and curls neat as a stitch, and opened her hands in a gesture of in airiness. It looked like a charming motion, practiced and graceful, committing one to nothing.

“Would you be prepared to deal with a student who was?” she countered politely. “Halcyon isn’t advertised as a fount of the already adjusted; some unease around certain supernaturals is expected, no? I have little reason to differ from that expectation.”

Except for a life spent in an alchemist’s house, having tea and talk with creatures that remember when mankind was still figuring out how its knees worked. Luckily, she was fairly sure Dr. Quinn was circumspect in describing her upbringing. Besides what were the chances of Josiah’s clientele rearing up at Halcyon? None. Josiah dealt with the desperate and the elite: children and outcasts didn’t qualify.

“Admittedly, yes, my intended project would go a long way in helping lessen certain personal apprehensions concerning you and yours. However, I was under the impression that such progress is one of the reasons for Halcyon’s existence. Understanding instead of fear. Improvement instead of intolerance.”

Sasha’s smile had yet to extend past her lips, but her tone sweetened. “Are you prepared to deal with a student wary of what you are, madam? We’ll hardly be able to work together otherwise.”

[*Snegurochka. Russian: snow maiden.]

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eternal_dancer
2008-10-06 10:31 am UTC (link)

It was always an interesting moment to see realization 'click' into place in another person - nearly a tangible shift in their gaze, the posture of their body. For Sasha, it lasted the briefest of split seconds before she was perfectly polished once more, seemingly at ease in Verushka's presence though the elder of them knew how much of a lie that was. She hadn't intended to make the young woman uncomfortable but, vampire or not, she seemed to be predisposed to doing just that. Even before she'd been changed, her presence had never really put many at ease - it was something she'd gotten used to over the years. Such reactions no longer affected her, that much was made clear by the smile which returned once more to her lips.

"One of the purposes of Halcyon is to enhance understanding, yes, both of yourself and the other races here to learn alongside you." Veru nodded gently, setting aside the schedule print-out she still held in one slender hand - for the moment, it didn't seem needed. "It is understandable that you, or others, might feel a bit...reserved about certain supernaturals here at the school with you. I'm sure the rest of the staff would agree that our job, as figures of authority, is to assist you safely in better understanding those that make you...uneasy." Though lately some of the teachers were acting more like children, making it nearly impossible for anyone to go to them with questions or concerns. It was ridiculous, really.

"I am quite used to making people uncomfortable, it is not unusual for me to be faced with such a reaction. I am a vampire and a Russian - one or the other tends to set one on edge," she joked lightly, her smile turning a bit wry before it fell away. "The question is, can you overcome this dislike of my kind in order to utilize me as your guide? If you feel you cannot, I will find another guide for you."

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vintage_fraud
2008-10-07 01:07 pm UTC (link)

Sasha listened to Verushka’s platitudes, her face set in trained, pleasant lines. Little by little, her temper was cooling back into equilibrium. There were advantages to having a vampire guide, she reminded herself. Yes, it meant she’d have to take extra care with constructing a smokescreen for her aims, but, really, she’s have to be just as cautious if they’d assigned a psychic or a trained witch—or a clairvoyant djin. Thank Providence, Halcyon didn’t have any alchemists on staff; she’d have a real devil of a time hiding her research then.

But this…this was workable. Hmm, though from the sound of it, she’d have to really play up the racial harmony angle.

Great, Sasha thought. I’m going to have to cook up a politically correct, socially responsible, harmonious reason for dissecting the student body. Well, it’d be an adventure in rationalization and schematics. Putting her theories into practice was going to be a real challenge at this rate…

Oh, well. She’d bomb that bridge when they came to it.

“You approve then?” she asked sweetly. “Of my project’s general ambitions? Because that is such a relief, madam; I was determined to start the work one way or another, but, oh, it’s just so much better to know I’ll be able to do it in the honest light of day—as it were.” The sugariness toned down as Sasha’s tone turned more professional. “I will, of course, submit whatever proposal necessary once the project’s concept is finalized. Do you have any suggestions as to which field of study would be more readily accepted? Strict metaphysics tends to worry most academics; I’d rather present my work in a palatable form. Then there’s the issue of integrity.” The young brown eyes had an oddly adult cast to them. “Nobody will aid the project if they don’t trust its source. Yet, with all due respect, your kind’s history tends to harbor a surplus of obscurity and mistrust.”

Sasha paused, now calm and sure, to reclaim the small gift bag below her chair. From within, she took out a small lacquered box, its silky surface delicately painted. She extended the gift forward with both hands as taught. Whatever Sasha’s murky feelings on vampires, her sense of courtesy was stronger (for now).

“Firebird was the first Russian ballet I saw in person. St. Petersburg, January 16, 1997. Kostya, my uncle,” the term had a curious mark of irony, “took me. My godfather was stranded in Kiev, so it was just us two. It was one of the only three showings that month, every other night devoted to The Nutcracker.” A sugary, trivial concoction Sasha liked at nineteen no better than she had at nine—which is to say not at all.

She set the little treasure down on the desk, tapping the shining image on the lid with the polished tip of a petite fingernail. “The Phoenix is among the most significant birds in alchemy. In some schools of thought it’s seen to be the last tip of the circle’s tail, completing the process of the soul’s development. In terms of change and value, only one other bird is its equal…”

The fingernail changed its rhythm, moving off the lacquer to drum a quick staccato on the desk before Sasha leaned back in her seat. “I don’t dislike vampires, Madame Solovyov, and I’d gladly kiss Old Scratch himself if it helped my work succeeded. If you can promise not to fear my aspirations, then I shall be most willing to draw upon you.”

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eternal_dancer
2008-10-14 08:38 am UTC (link)

"I doubt it is truly my approval you need to continue with this experiment of yours. As I said, drafting a research proposal to submit to the headmaster. I would imagine it is his permission you will need to actually begin such an endeavor." And, if that wasn't the case, she'd prefer to be safe than sorry, truly. She had just arrived after all, it was best not to stir up any trouble if it wasn't absolutely necessary - especially when a certain someone was on the grounds and the potential for issues to occur between the two of them was great. Picking your battles was key and Veru would rather deal with the consequences of unleashing on Vallis than giving a student incorrect information. So whatever Sasha was cooking up for this little bit of "research" would have to slide past the headmaster instead of simply her guide.

"I would suggest you write up the proposal as concisely as possible, I'm sure whatever it is you have in mind the headmaster will grasp from your write-up." The girl was clearly well-versed enough to write a more than intelligent letter describing exactly what it was that she planned to do. "To a human, any of the races here at school inspire distrust and the need for caution, I'm sure. It is perfectly understandable that others here might feel the same way. However, there is a fine line between taking heed of a race and prejudicing yourself against them." It was a boundary to be wary of, a line one could easily cross without meaning to or even realizing they had. Had Verushka not been a vampire herself, Vallis' existence alone might have been enough of a motivator to ignite in her a hatred for vampires.

Veru watched as things seemed to shift between them, Sasha's attention turned to gathering up the little bag from beneath her chair. The box she produced was quite beautiful, obviously handcrafted, carefully scrutinized in her grasp as it was offered up for view. "I take it you are not a fan of the Nutcracker?" a slight smirk quirked up her lips, just barely - that was an understandable opinion. Verushka had never much cared for the tale of toys, either. "Firebird, for me, is a much better choice. I saw it myself a few times." Though, given her age and her passion for ballet, she'd seen many of the more famous productions numerous times. She'd even had the chance to dance in a few. "I assume you liked the ballet, yes?"

"I hope that you do not....or, that if you do, your mind is open to changing. It seems vampires outnumber any other race here at Halcyon, surely it would be beyond difficult to attempt to coexist with a race of people whom you harbor a bit of....hatred for." She truly hoped the young girl wasn't simply covering the truth, though even if she was there was little Veru could do about it. "I am quite old, Miss Hallmeyer, it would take more than a research project to put a spark of fear in me, I assure you," she smiled lightly. "Once your proposal is approved, I will see if there is a way for me to help." That seemed like a fair enough offer to her.

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vintage_fraud
2008-10-19 08:04 pm UTC (link)

It was true; Sasha didn’t need the woman’s approval to pursue her goal and frankly had Verushka known exactly what it was she’d never give it. Well, not unless she was appreciably suicidal and, really, was suicide a valid term with the undead?

“Thank you, Madame, for the suggestion.” The girl smiled, her tone unexpectedly demure. “I can tend to go beyond the necessary into obscurity. It’s a longtime scholastic weakness, unfortunately.”

inward, Sasha gave a mental sign, its exhalation causing not a ripple upon her face. This was the problem; approval or not, suspicion wasn’t something she could afford. Her resources in Halcyon were meager enough already. Theoretically, a suitably convoluted, abstract “thesis” would cover whatever alarm bells her questions tapped. People never took academics seriously. Hopefully, the same disregard applied even when the people weren’t human.

“To a human, any of the races here at school inspire distrust …there is a fine line between taking heed of a race and prejudicing yourself against them.”

Maybe, but, oh there was a bright, raw streak of pain between fear and grief, and it was on that slim space that Sasha’s principles stood. If that “tainted” her view of vampires then…

“To a human?” A delicate wrinkle between Sasha’s puzzled brows. “What… interesting wording. I thought being surprised by the occupants of Halcyon was a matter of experience rather than species—oh, but I’m making myself sound like a real rube now. Please, forgive me.” Her smile resurfaced, bright as glitter and merry as candy. “Halcyon is a real eye opener. For us humans, I mean.”

And what were you before the fangs? Sasha’s true voice asked silently. Inherently myopic and predisposed to prejudice, too dumb to count just because you didn’t have a couple centuries under the belt? Was your humanity really so worthless in comparison to what you’ve gained by giving it up? Or is “human” just a convenient way to divorce faults? Funny, how often Sasha heard inhuman beings refer to humanity as if it was inherently a blind, dumb flock of sheep. It usually came from the same smug stock who prattled about living in “different worlds” and mentioned “human rules” with pity in their tone.

She’d kicked a lot of shins as child fighting that nonsense.

“Sugarplums are a tad too cloying for my palate,” Sasha admitted with joking rue. “But, yes, I admired the performance greatly. It had heart, the kind of beauty the made one feel like a witness rather than just an observer.” Something in the woman’s tone, or perhaps just its assembly, tempted Sasha’s curiosity. “Do you dance, Madame?”

When they veered back to the subject at hand, Sasha shrugged. “An open mind has a hard time surviving against a strong memory, Madame, but I shall try my best to kill old misconceptions. And certainly I don’t wish to alarm anyone.” Sasha’s gaze was heartlessly calm. “In fact, that’s the very last thing I want.”

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eternal_dancer
2008-10-27 09:49 am UTC (link)

Humanity was something Verushka had long been without. It lingered at the back of her mind in the same way a fond childhood memory might - it never left, time often made it more illuminated than it truly had been and, as the years passed, the more specific details would begin to fade. The brain, amazing as it was, could only hold so much information before things would have to slip away to make room for the new. It wasn't that she devalued humanity, but rather that she was beginning to forget the finer points of what it had been like. Besides, wishing to be something you weren't never got you anywhere. Sitting around pining to be mortal again would make for a miserable existence. This was what Verushka was now, what she had been for quite some time, there was no escaping it. She harbored so dislike for humans - in fact, she was rather fond of how they managed to move through life full of hope for the best, brimming with that kind of almost innocent naivety that no other race could lay claim to. Should Sasha ever leave such a state, either by choice or unfortunate force, Verushka felt sure that she would one day look back and feel the same. Of course, it wasn't her place to explain such things - everyone had to learn in their own time.

Talk of ballet did, in fact, alter the vampire's tone. There was a certain fondness littering her words that hadn't been there before. "I did, professionally. For many years, I danced. Now, it is only hobby." Her passion for it had never faded, never died off, but as a vampire drawing attention to yourself was only acceptable for so long. Eventually, someone would always start to ask questions. Retiring and dancing in private for her own enjoyment had seemed like the best option once it was time for such a decision to be made - and it managed to, along with a few shows taken in a year, satisfy that craving for the art. "Have you ever danced?" she inquired in return.

"Memories are created for a reason. I would never tell you to discredit them. Often times they warn us away from situations that might prove hazardous to our health. Keep them at hand, they may help, but I would hope that you, that any student here really, is also open to discovering that not every member of a species behaves in the same way. But," Veru smiled lightly, "you are clearly an intelligent young woman, I am sure you will figure things out for yourself."

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