Entry tags:

dr. jekyll, scheherazade

Who: Sherri (and sort of Brian)
What: Brian wants to lock himself in and the world out. Sherri won't let him.
Where: Mostly outside 302, so third floor residents might hear or witness parts.
When: July 27th - August 5th, during days and early evenings.
Warnings: You'll probably want to slap Sherri.

Tuesday, July 27th

In spite of the stories about how it had a mind of its own, and in spite of the fact that it was only one floor, Sherri took the elevator to go see Brian. It was later than she'd have liked before her apartment had emptied out, but the second the last person was out the door and she was supposed to be resting, she'd tucked a notebook under her arm and headed out as quietly as possible. She would rest, but she wanted to at least check and make sure Brian was okay first, and leave him a note if he was asleep or at work.

When no one answered her knock, Sherri couldn't help but feel a little pleased with herself for thinking to bring the notebook; it was at least one good decision among several bad ones. She slumped down against the wall next to his door and focused all her effort on making every line perfectly straight, leaving no sign of her shaky hands. It was okay, Brian had never seen her writing anyway, as far as she could remember. He wouldn't know the difference.

Brian,

I was just checking in to see how the full moon went for you! I want to hear all about Henry as soon as possible, okay? Come over for coffee later this week, I'll make chocolate chip cookies.

[a smiley face with scribbled-on pigtails]
Sherri

Satisfied that the note sounded perfectly normal, she ripped it out of the notebook, folded it in half, and shoved it under the door. At least, she reflected, no one was there to judge her for taking the elevator back down, too.

__________________________________________________

[The note is slipped under the door of 205 on Tuesday, July 27. It's written on a torn-up scrap of lined paper in blue ink.]

Stay away from me.
- Brian

__________________________________________________

When Sherri woke up from just closing her eyes for a couple of minutes, it was dark and she was rolling off her futon, a scream catching in her desert-dry throat and images of red eyes and fangs still clear in her mind. She pressed a hand over her laboring heart and focused on just breathing for a moment. A scrap of paper where no paper should be was a welcome distraction, and she scooted across the floor rather than getting up to go look at it.

She blinked at it in confusion at first, not sure what she'd done to make Brian angry. Had the note been a little much? Had she been too pushy with her attempts at being friends? Or... her eyes widened as she came to what she hoped was a much more obvious and sensible conclusion. Maybe his full moon, and Henry, hadn't been as pleasant as he hoped.

__________________________________________________

Wednesday, July 28th

There was a faint noise in the background as Sherri approached Brian's door, but she wasn't surprised when it stopped as soon as she knocked. She waited a moment, just to see, but when it seemed like he wasn't going to open it after all she pressed her cheek to the door and tried to talk loudly enough to be heard through it. "I know you're there, you know. The fact that you turned the TV off sort of gave you away."

Since there was still no answer, she settled herself in beside the door again, and kept talking. "Joss and I got our costumes for the masquerade today. You're going, right? It seems like one of the building's fun little tricks and if you don't go voluntarily you'll probably end up there anyway."

No response came during her pause, not that Sherri expected one. She shrugged, and kept right on telling Brian about the most lighthearted parts of her day. If nothing else, maybe he'd open the door to tell her to shut up.

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Thursday, July 29th

[The note is slipped under the door of 205 on Thursday, July 29. It's written on a scrap of computer paper that's irregular in shape, but has been cut to remove fuzzy edges. The writing is in blue ink, with uneven penmanship.]

This is for your own good.
You can't be around me.
[line of scratched out, unreadable scribbles]
- Brian

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Sherri found the note in the morning while she was getting ready for work. Along with her costume, she'd grabbed a couple of turtlenecks to wear to work until the marks on her neck healed, and even though it was way too hot for them at least it meant she didn't have to answer any awkward questions. She could have just stayed home, and she'd been half tempted, but work meant she had something to do, something to think about. Work was a much better option.

The note was scooped up off the floor in a hurry, and she read it through a couple of times while she was brushing her teeth. Instead of sitting down for breakfast, she wrote out a quick note of her own and grabbed an apple to munch as she took the elevator up to the third floor. She didn't take the time to knock, just slipped the note under the door and ran back to the elevator.

If Henry is someone bad, you're going to have to tell me a lot more to scare me off. I'll be by after work!

[the smiley face has a ponytail to one side this time]
Sherri

__________________________________________________

Monday, August 2nd

[The note is slipped under the door of 205 on Monday, August 2. It's written on a whole piece of computer paper in black sharpie. It takes up the entire page.]

STOP

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With the next note, Sherri didn't even have to pick it up to read it. So, she didn't. She left it on the floor, stepping over it on her way to Brian's apartment.

Visits were an everyday thing, they had been since she'd gotten the first note, and she'd slipped at least one or two notes under his door every day, as well. It hadn't taken her long to run out of casual conversation, so the day before she'd taken books with her, the books that Brian hadn't taken with him after the full moon that wasn't. She'd never actually admit it, but she'd been trying to take inspiration from Joss... pester someone enough, and they'll eventually do something about it. It hadn't worked out well for her sister, the full moon was proof of that, but Brian wasn't going to hurt her (no matter what he thought). She'd never had many friends. While growing up, it had been because everyone assumed she thought she was better than them. In college, it had been because there hadn't been anyone around that she'd really wanted to befriend, and a lot of them just wanted to be friends because they'd heard of her father, anyway. After leaving, she hadn't settled in one place long enough to make any. She'd be a pretty poor friend indeed if she let Brian close himself up in his apartment forever, so she sat outside his door and read to him. If any of his neighbors thought it was strange, well, strange was the norm at Bellum Letale, anyway.

When she pressed her face to the door, right at the edge where there was the tiniest gap, she could smell the faintest hint of alcohol. She couldn't even imagine how strong it had to be inside the room for it to creep out at all. As usual, the sound of the TV was cut off abruptly when she knocked. She wasn't sure if he was trying belatedly to pretend he wasn't home, if the alcohol had dulled him enough to not realize she would have already heard it, or if some part of him wanted to hear her talking to him. In spite of the fact that she knew it was probably the former, she settled her mind on the second option and told him through the door, "I brought more books with me today. Open the door if you don't want to hear them."

The door, of course, remained stubbornly shut. She shrugged and sat down beside it. "I'm not going to just stop, you know. Not without a good reason. If you hate me and never want to hear my voice again, just tell me. I'll probably cry, because I thought we were friends and knowing I was wrong would hurt, but I'm a big girl and I'll get over it. Otherwise, you aren't getting rid of me." Brian might tell her that just to get her away, but she didn't think he was the kind of man who wanted to be the cause of a woman crying, no matter how drunk he was - which, honestly, was why she said it, and she doubted he'd think about it too closely before accepting it. She waited, anyway, and took the silence to be a good sign. "But you have to do it out loud, not on paper. I think I deserve at least that, right?"

Terms set, Sherri slumped back against the wall and opened the book she'd begun reading to him the last time. "Hm, where were we? Oh, yes, chapter four."

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Wednesday, August 4th

"...and so those present kissed the ground before the king and his betrothed, and the news was spread that he would marry Scheherazade the vizier's daughter, who had borne him three sons and been found loyal and pure, and the king's brother married Scheherazade's sister, Dunyazad.They all lived together in happiness until death came upon them, and King Shahryar ordered that the tales his wife had told be recorded just as she'd told them, so that her wisdom and their story could be shared with generations to come."

Sherri took another drink of water out of the bottle she'd brought with her. Though she'd skipped Scheherazade's tales, the tale of Shahryar and Scheherazade was a long one even without them. From the betrayal of Shahryar's first wife, to the murders of the virgins he took to bed after that, Scheherazade's choice to go become his wife after learning of the situation so that she could save the other daughters of the kingdom, and then her cleverness in distracting him with tales, all the way to Scheherazade begging for her life for the sake of their sons and his statement that he had pardoned her long ago (not that she really needed to be pardoned, in Sherri's opinion)... even without the sexy parts, which Sherri had definitely cut out of the narrative, there was a lot there to cover. She gave him a moment of silence to take in the tale, come to conclusions for himself before she told him what it all meant for them.

When she was satisfied that he'd probably taken in as much as he could (the scent of alcohol was stronger, she wasn't going to ask him to think that hard), she took a deep breath. "I'm not as much like Scheherazade as I'd like to be yet, but I'm trying to live up to her - her legacy. I'm not brave, and I'm not wise, but I'm not going to give up on you." She paused, then laughed softly. "And she stuck around long enough to have three kids, and the one thing I know I have in common with her is stubbornness."

Pretty sure she'd gotten her point across, Sherri stood, and stretched. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Brian. Please... eat something, okay? I hope you still have food left. If you don't, let me know in a note and I'll get some groceries for you. You don't have to open the door for me, I can just leave them out in the hall." She pressed her fingers to the door, wishing she was strong enough to break it down, or that she knew how to pick locks and let herself in. Since she'd never learned any practical skills like that - maybe she'd ask Nina if he knew how - all she could do was stare at it a moment longer, and then force herself to make her way to the stairs. She couldn't stay afraid of them forever.

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Thursday, August 5th

[The note is slipped under the door of 205 on Thursday, August 5. It's written on a whole piece of lined paper in blue ink.]

Sherri-

This isn't a joke, and this isn't a game. There is a part of me that [blacked-out scribbles] you know nothing about. And even I didn't know much about it until recently.

It's dangerous.

I'm dangerous.

I can't trust [blacked-out scribbles] this part of me. I don't know how to explain it, and frankly I don't want to explain it. There's nothing to explain. I don't have an excuse.

All I can tell you is that I have your best interests in mind when I tell you to leave me alone. Stop coming to my apartment, stop sending me messages, and stop thinking about me. You're a very good person, Sherri. If I had ever had a daughter, I [blacked-out scribbles] would have wanted her to be like you. And it's because of this that I'm not asking, or begging, or requesting. I'm TELLING you to stay away. The last thing I want is for you to be hurt, and that's exactly what will happen if you don't stop.

Please. Do yourself a favor and forget about me. Take care of yourself and your sister. Protect yourself and her from the darkness in this building - and trust me when I say that there's a lot of it here.

With a Heavy Heart,

- Brian

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Sherri didn't speak for a moment after she'd knocked and the sounds from inside had stopped. Though she knew she should have stopped and thought out what she'd say after getting that note, the words had prompted her up the stairs without even a spare thought for the fear that had been overwhelming her every time she tried to use them. It was still there, but it was buried beneath something that felt a little like anger.

When she did speak, what came out surprised her. "You're not my father. If you were anything like my father, I wouldn't be doing this. And I'm not your daughter, and I'm not a kid. I'm twenty-six years old. I am an adult. I decide what's best for me, not you, not my father, not anyone else."

Shoot, Sherri, if you're going to convince the man you're not a dumb kid, you should really stop sounding like one throwing a temper tantrum... She took a deep breath, then continued. "I know there are dark things in the building, Brian. I guess you haven't been keeping up on the forums, but I was a vampire snack the night of the full moon. Joss got them off of me before I lost too much blood, but I think I know about the dark parts of this place pretty well, and I can handle them. I have a knife, the one I showed you in France, and I don't know how to use it yet but I'm learning. Whatever this dark part of you is, I'm not going to believe that it's scarier than having two vampires drinking from me, and not knowing if they're going to stop before I die, but knowing that I have to keep their attention on me so that they don't turn on Joss, instead. Not that it did any good in the end anyway, Dracula still bit her. I was scared. Of course I was scared. I'm still scared, actually, but... I've told myself that if I meet the man who turns into Dracula, I'm going to smile and ask how his day was, because I can't let being scared control me anymore, not like it has my whole life. So, if you think I should be more scared of you than I am of Dracula, you're going to have to explain why." Well. She hadn't exactly intended to tell him all of that, either, but it felt pretty good to get it out.

"You're my friend, Brian. Friends don't just... forget about each other. Not if they're good friends, anyway, or just decent human beings. I told you, if you really want me to leave, you're going to have to tell me why to my face." She hadn't sat down, didn't intend to stay very long at all. It had obviously been a good decision, since she seemed to have some kind of word vomit thing going on. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I appreciate your concern, and I don't expect you to say anything right now because I'm pretty sure that you've killed quite a few brain cells with whatever it is you're drinking. I will be back tomorrow."

If that last part sounded a little like a threat... well, maybe it would convince Brian that she wasn't defenseless, and that she wasn't kidding. It had to sink in sooner or later, because if she was listing things that she wasn't, "going anywhere" was at the top.