Davin Maguire (eyeswideopen_) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2012-11-03 01:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-09-19 |
We're all in the same boat
Who: Davin, with a few NPCs
Where: random gas station on the way to S.O.
When: morning, around 10am
The journey to Scarlet Oak, though he had made it before with Arthur, was a new breed of discouraging for the century-old Wayward Son. By now he should be used to the sudden changes in weather -- in fact, it seemed as though a raincloud made it its business to follow him for nigh unto fifteen miles -- or random, unexplained explosions, troubles with his motorcyle, trouble with the locals in the towns he passed through and so on. Davin Maguire had ended up all the way out by Nevada before he'd put it into his head that maybe it was time to settle in one place, like his sire had done before him. Luke's fortuitous commandeering of his very own bar had been an interesting development -- one that Davin has puzzled over for months. It wasn't that he didn't believe Luke -- to the contrary, he was downright proud of him -- it was just that Davin didn't actually believe it was possible to keep it in business if his childe was in any way involved with the management aspect of things. It was nothing against the former psychic and had everything to do with their house's cursed bad luck. After about the fifth time this trip that Davin had broken down and enlisted the aid of a passerby, he was beginning to regret his decision to see firsthand just how Luke was doing. Oh yeah, it was easy to let it all just roll right off of him, but Davin had gotten so fucking weary of his lot in life. No, the draw, the true reason he was bringing his sorry ass all the way to Michigan was because then at least he would not be suffering alone. Sure, he could have easily moved and settled in when Arthur decided to, but he figured he had troubled the old man enough. To be turned at sixty-seven was an odd thought, and his sire had never once told him that story. Davin suspected it was cancer, or some other wasting sickness. Whatever it was, Arthur had been dying already and his own sire had taken pity on him.
Pity was such a strange emotion. Was it pity, also, that drove him toward his destination? Almost forty years had passed since he'd hit Luke with his motorcycle, forcing his hand when it came to the one thing he had sworn he would never become. Still, it was the house's rule to turn those in need and Davin had saved Luke in the same act that had damned the man. Having never been anything other than a human when he was turned, Davin could not even hope to understand just how hard it was for his childe to carry on day after day, his birthright stripped from from his being. He had seen with his own eyes the toll it had taken (and still took) on his charge, and it made Davin feel like he was the worst person in the entire world for having done that. It was fitting that this trip should be particularly nasty -- but even after all that, it would never truly pay the older vampire back in spades for what he had done. For very nearly the first time in his history, Davin was sorry for his actions. Luke didn't blame him, or at least he claimed he didn't, for not being able to react in time. It left a bitter taste in the man's mouth all the same. He was a murderer, and he had trapped Luke in a world where he could never truly find peace that wasn't the result of getting high off his ass on psychic blood. Which had been the first order of business that first night, but that was beside the point. Was it Davin's fault that Luke was hopelessly addicted to the stuff now? Most likely. Davin felt a stab of regret at that, but still he figured it beat being sober and being able to process every moment of this life turned living hell. Oh, most days he could just let things slide, but today? Oh no, today he was letting each and every mishap in the last leg of his journey get to him. From the 18-wheeler that had cut him off on the highway, causing him to lay his bike down and adding another physical reminder that the machine had been through hell, to the less violent but no-less-annoying fact that the nearest working payphone just so happened to be occupied by a large woman who was having a very heated argument with her assumed baby-daddy all while she tried to keep hold of her son.
Davin's vicinity to the woman stopped the argument from escalating further, but then she spent the next fifteen minutes practically having phone sex with the guy. For what felt like the millionth time, Davin wished that his luck was just a little bit better. He hadn't absolutely needed to use the phone, but just the fact that even that didn't go right almost made him snap and bite the woman. She was a little too heavy for his tastes, but she distinctly smelt of cigarettes, and that was almost too much of a temptation to pass up. Davin had a secret soft spot for kids, though. Better not traumatize the poor bastard any more than she just did. He was pretty sure the kid had some sort of idea about what that tone in his mom's voice meant, and he did not look happy as he attempted to squirm out of his mother's plump and undoubtedly sweaty grip. Davin winked at him, flashing his teeth in a grin without fully exposing his fangs -- let the kid wonder -- before stalking off to the pump where he'd just topped off his tank. Without incident, he felt proud to say. He glanced down at the cracked watch he wore, then up at the lightening sky, judging that he would be in town at just after midday. He groaned a bit to himself mentally; judging his luck, he'd better hurry up or else risk suffering even more through the daylight than he had already. Slipping his helmet over his head, Davin sat down on his Harley, lifting the kick stand so he could be on his way. The sound of the engine as he turned the key and pressed the throttle soothed his nerves as he set off, his goal well within his reach.