Odette de Beaufort (la_duchesse) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-06-19 15:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback, #solo |
Lucky.
Who: Odette (brief NPC cameo by Liev)
Where: Somewhere in Europe
When: circa very late 1800s
What: Odette leaves
The room was decorated in a distinct Parisian style that did not belong in this century. Nevertheless, the design was impeccable and tasteful. The walls were painted a deep blue, the color of the nighttime sky. The mahogany wood floor gleamed with new varnish. The furniture was tres chic. The only things that a normal human being would find out of place were the two coffins in the middle of the room, where a bed would normally be. Both coffins were identical, lined with silk and smelling of French perfume. A vanity desk sat against one wall and the woman sitting in front of the mirror looked like a part of the decoration.
Odette touched her cheek where he had struck her. Nothing was there, of course, except for the smooth alabaster skin of the undead. She, along with the rest of her kind healed quickly and without trouble. While the wound quickly faded, however, the memory (and indignation) did not fade as fast. If they ever did. She inspected the side of her face, looking desperately for something out of place. It still hurt. There deserved to be some form of physical proof that she was still in pain. She saw nothing but the faintest traces of the blood tears she had spilled earlier that evening.
She could hear him downstairs, pacing like the wolf that he was. She scowled angrily, the desire to break something rising in her again. It was his own fucking fault, she reflected. If he hadn't tried to turn her, I wouldn't have killed his little plaything. She could still hear the girl's screams ringing in her ears. It filled her with a deep amusement and sense of contentment. Immediately after she had risen that evening, Odette had found that her Sire was missing. It wouldn't have been a particularly problematic occurrence had she not already known it was going to happen. She had taken her cheapest black cloak and walked to the girl's house. The girl herself was a pretty little thing. Odette hadn't bothered to learn her name or profession, all she knew was that the nit still lived with her mother. Nevertheless, Odette knew that once Liev had his mind on something, he would get rid of whatever was in his way. And he had gotten rid of things much bigger and more problematic than parents before.
When Odette had arrived at the girl's house, she was very late. The girl was at least a month turned: still very young but not as young as Odette was used to finding them. Liev had been hiding the little bitch for an entire month. It infuriated her to her very core. It hadn't taken long to get rid of that problem, however. Odette had taken the girl by the hair, yanking until most of it came off in Odette's hand. She had then dragged her towards the kitchen-cum-dining area, opened a drawer full of silver and pushed the girl's face into it. The screaming had been glorious. That is, until the nit's face burned off. And then there was just the sound and smell of burning flesh.
Needless to say, Liev had not been impressed when he arrived at the house to find yet another dead childe.
Odette stood up and dragged her fingers through her hair, tearing her eyes from her reflection. The whole situation bothered her. "Un mois," she said out loud to the room. A month. He had been hiding her for a month. Odette was used to discovering his little projects before he even turned them. He was beginning to hide them and hide them well. She snarled at the empty room. Even more than the length of time she had been oblivious to the existence of a new childe, however, he had struck her once he found out. Struck her. It simply did not happen. Liev was never violent with her - at least not with the intention of causing her malicious harm. And over a milk-in-her-mouth maid!
The sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the house as Odette threw her canister of face powder at her vanity mirror. Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned towards the window, her faint reflection looking back at her. The blood tears warmed her face as they slid down her cheeks. He was quiet. She had barely heard him come in. Strong arms went around her, pulling her against a broad chest. He buried his face in her loose hair. She refused to speak. "You do realize it was your own fault, don't you?" he muttered gently. "I do wish you would stop killing them. I turn them for more reasons than to be murdered by you, you know."
Odette's jaw set itself stubbornly. He began speaking in German, muttering little bits and pieces of a language Odette had never bothered to learn for no other reason than it was an accent too harsh for her own French one. He kissed her cheek, noticing for the first time the blood upon them. "Ma petite," he murmured, accents all mixed up. He never failed to win her back - and that was the part of the situation that bothered her the most.
Daylight found their bodies pressed together in his coffin, dead in all definitions of the word. There was no heartbeat, no breathe and no warmth. As the sun set beyond the horizon, however, both of them roused from their...sleep? Rest? Slumber? Did the dead sleep truly? He ran his fingers through her hair, gently brushing it away from her face. Odette would have cried again but there was no more blood for her to cry. Why can't this be enough? Why can't I be enough? She disentangled herself from him as she rose up onto her elbows. "I'm leaving you," she said matter-of-factly.
"I had a feeling," he responded with equal emotion (or lack thereof).
"I suppose it's about time," she added, pushing the lid of his coffin open. "We've been together enough for several lifetimes. Most couples aren't as..."
"...stubborn?" he suggested with a smile as she climbed out.
She laughed lightly, bare feet padding quietly across the wood floor. She stood in front of her vanity mirror, slightly intrigued by the odd angles of her reflection in the broken glass.
"Lucky," she whispered.
It had taken her a little while to come back home but there she was. She dipped the toes of her right foot in the running water of the creek, letting the cold water send chills through her body. Despite the places she had traveled to and lived in, there remained only one place she truly called home. She looked at the house she had shared with her husband and children and smiled wryly. She walked along the creek, following it to the graveyard. She sat down on top of one of the graves and laid her head against the tombstone.
"Hello, my love," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Mon cher, I've come back...I promised I would, didn't I? Speak to me, Armand."
Odette sat there, waiting to hear the voice of her husband tell her she was going to be okay. For the first time in two centuries, Odette had no ties, no duties and nobody to answer to. She had freedom and yet she had absolutely no idea what to do with it.