Laurent Rousseau (itsjustadream) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-09-14 22:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback |
And each in your season returns and returns
Who: Jezebelle and Laurent
Where: A Street Corner; Barcelona, Spain
When: Night; 1900
Spain was magical in comparison to Italy, though a great deal of that impression was due to Jezebelle's newfound abilities. Never before had she been able to walk the streets at night without fear. And to do so alone! Four years after turning, she was confident enough to hunt on her own, and generally found it easier without her sire present. Dixen still worried over her, but once she'd mastered blinking he had no words to argue. So long as it was dark, she had an immediate escape, should she need it.
One thing she loved about Spain was their late hours. The afternoon siesta allowed the shops to stay open later, in which time Jezebelle attempted to run all her errands before hunting for dinner. This particular evening, she'd purchased a new dress and a couple of rose bushes. Even if they only stayed in Spain for a year or so, she insisted on maintaining a garden. Having dropped off her purchases back at the house, Jezebelle lazily strolled down the streets of Barcelona, appearing to window shop. At some point a young man would suit her fancy, and then she'd turn her attention elsewhere, but until then it never hurt to look.
Laurent was not sure when exactly he had come to Spain, or how long he would stay there, but he had caught onto the fact that he was in a different country when Spanish became the language instead of Italian. He was pretty sure that the reason he had moved had had something to do with upsetting the dreams of someone important in Italy who believed that the person they saw was a demon stalking the earth... or something... but eh, who kept track of these things? Definitely not him. That was part of the real world and therefore nowhere near as important as the one he preferred to live in. But still, even in Spain he needed to go out because eating was a necessity and he was not an infirm who needed to have his meals brought to him. He could find them perfectly fine on his own.
Whistling to himself as he walked through the streets, Laurent dismissed person after person. Just because he had to feed did not mean he was just going to bite the first person he came by. He was feeling in the mood for a lady tonight and that meant he was going to have to be charming. Prospect. A dark-haired beauty looking into the windows of multiple shops. Smiling as he grew closer, Laurent paused, taken slightly back. He knew that face from somewhere. Somewhere real, not just a face he had seen in someone's dream. A party, no, a library? The library of someone's house at a party in... where had that been... Italy! Only that had been years ago and humans aged. "Well," Laurent remarked, grinning as he realized there was no heartbeat, no blood rushing through her veins. There definitely had been in Italy. "Jezebelle De Luca if I remember correctly, but you aren't quite the girl I recall from Italy."
The reason Jezebelle had come to Spain was because it was not Italy. It was not the city where she'd killed her husband, nor the country where she'd buried her daughter. There was little chance of running into family, friends, or the socialites she'd dismissed the moment her life had faded from her body. Spain was new, exciting, and free of many of the restrictions that had been put upon her in living. The only requirement being that she stayed clear of those who knew her back then. The handsome man before her was one of them-- Laurent Rousseau if she remembered correctly-- and running into him here and now startled her.
"Mister Rousseau," she said, a hint of fear rushing through her. Would he notice that she hadn't changed since they last met? Perhaps she could sell it as the difference between pregnant and not, as she was sure she'd been at their last meeting. "Miss Marino, if you please, and I should hope the change is for the better," she said, offering her hand. Was he just the same as he'd been back then? Her memory of that night was clear, of their discussion on dreams and Poe, of her leaving him abruptly at the call of her husband. She was certain he was the same, and it wasn't just his baby face that proved it. If she was hearing right, his heart was still, which made them more alike than she'd ever thought.
Look at that, she remembered him too. Vampires do have good memories... I wonder when she was turned? It had to have been after. He could remember the sound of her heart, and she had been pregnant. Vampires could not be pregnant after all. "Miss. Marino then," Laurent corrected, accepting the hand and bowing over it before kissing the back lightly. Manners were manners after all, and to be extended to all ladies. Especially the pretty ones who had at some point gone and changed into vampires. Yes, he was a little stuck on that fact. Laurent had seen quite a few things during his life and unlife and yet this was the first time that he had witnessed someone as two different races. Normally he knew the human or he knew the vampire, but never had he known both. Intriguing.
"It's a change that I've never seen wrought in someone," Laurent admitted after a moment. There were still people about and he was not about to label either of them as something that would be called 'monster' where they might hear. He was settled in Barcelona for the time and did not want to be chased out. Nor could he imagine Jezebelle wanting to leave either. "And I've been around for quite some time. Perhaps you'll join me somewhere a little less obvious. I have questions that are better asked not, well here. Though one can be." One that would tell him whether or not she was at least afflicted with what he occasionally viewed as a type of curse. "Do you still dream, Miss. Marino?"
"Jezebelle is fine. For friends," she added softly, calming as he kissed her hand. He was most certainly like her, and not as much a threat as she'd previously imagined. Her life had set a healthy amount of paranoia in her, but this seemed more like a chance encounter than a set up to cause her harm. While he was most certainly a vampire, Jezebelle doubted they were of the same house, a guess she based entirely on instinct. Laurent did not seem like an assassin. It was probably a foolish presumption to make, since she seemed an unlikely choice for her house as well.
"I would love to join you," Jezebelle said, his question bringing a smile to her lips. As she walked with him, she answered, feeling as if they were continuing their conversation despite the years that had passed. "I do dream, though not as often as I did when you met me. My little Rose made me restless and the nightmares were more frequent. This life has had a way of bringing me peace." It was only after she'd reached her breaking point that she'd been able to chase away the nightmares, and then Dixen had arrived shortly after. Maybe she would have found peace in her human life, but it wasn't something she liked to consider. She'd made her choice and refused to look back.
"Jezebelle then," Laurent said with a smile. "And if that's the case then you can call me Laurent, it sounds much nicer. And it was never 'Mister' it was always 'Commandant'." Had he mentioned that to her on their last meeting? Likely not, military rank did not seem all that important when speaking with someone who was not French or in a military. Women, well, not to be sexist but women did not generally seemed to be interested in that sort of thing. Not that he blamed them. If he had not been part of one then perhaps he would have no interest either and everyone knew that women did not participate in war. Or killing. They could, they dream of it well enough.
Ah, so she had given birth to the child, a girl. And yet here she was a vampire. So what happened to the girl? Perhaps a question that he should not ask. Laurent filed it away for later, perhaps. If conversation did not lead him in a way that made he forgot. But she did still dream and so she was not one of his sort. "At least you dream, I'd love to have my own dreams again. Now I suppose I can tell you that I don't have them and haven't since I died, a little side-effect of my family. But I could see yours." A glimmer of a smile. He thought that perhaps once, or more than once, he had found himself in her dreams but he could never be sure unless he saw them. "That's why I like them so much... do you have an outlet for your enjoyment of Poe and the sciences in yours?"
"Commandant," she smiled in acknowledgment. "I should have guessed as much, with your interest in the militia, but I would have likely gotten the rank wrong." Even as a vampire, the world of war was not for women, making it difficult to learn the inner workings outside of books. It was not high on her list of priorities, but she made note to look up where his ranking fell, wanting at least to know that, should they meet again in the future. The world was smaller now, and there was a high chance that was possible if this meeting was used as an example.
He didn't dream? At all? That seemed an odd side effect to changing, until he revealed that he could see into her dreams instead. "No wonder you find them so fascinating. I can only imagine the things you've seen," she said, then smirked. "I don't know that you would find mine all that enjoyable. While no longer considered nightmares, they still remain dark." It seemed so much more acceptable to enjoy the morbid, now that she was a vampire. Almost fitting. Jezebelle didn't consider herself fitting the stereotype, but still some things did apply. "I have more of an outlet than I could have ever imagined," she said with a little laugh. "And no one to tell me I'm not capable, which makes it all the better. I must say, I enjoy the lack of boundaries this life has given me, though I'm not entirely sure all men would approve."
His title did sound nice coming from her mouth though and Laurent grinned at hearing it. "You're Italian so you have a different name for it. Plus it doesn't seem so important in this day and age," he acknowledged. Different country, different rule, different ranks. He would not add to it by saying that her country had the inferior force, not sure how patriotic she was. Vampires could either remain fearfully loyal or strangely apathetic towards the land they had been born, the first time, in. Laurent was more of the first and had a feeling he always would be. One could not simply let go of years of service and love for a king, even if he had never met the king and knew what the people had done. He still loved France herself more than anything else, even dreams.
"I've seen things beyond imaging," Laurent admitted without missing a step. "And enjoyable is in the eye of the beholder; I find all dreams fascinating in one degree or the other and darkness is nothing to flinch from. As you've noticed, I am of a race that tends to thrive in it." The remark about men not approving of what she did was a little odd. Though Laurent supposed that not all male vampires were as accepting of things as him. He had always been odd in that regard and he fully blamed his sister for the oddity. "To find an outlet for science... I'm not sure I know which ones do that, but I'm certain that you belong there. Your sire had a good eye to change you, you're more beautiful as a vampire." Lack of coloring from blood could be a good look for some people. "And unique, a woman enjoying science and putting it to use, quite a curiosity for this day."
"I'm an apothecary by trade, but my house does not tend to that specifically. We all have an expertise, of sorts, and that is mine," she explained. "I hope to see a day when women are encouraged to pursue whatever peaks their interest. Most of mine was spent trying to hide my passion, so it is a joy to find a way of life that accepts it, at least for the most part." There would always be old fashioned men trying to put her in her place, and Jezebelle was just going to have to accept that. Laurent did not seem the type and, in fact, seemed to like her for her differences. Jezebelle wasn't sure that would remain true if he knew what she did with her time, but that remained to be seen. He was a vampire as well, and he did say that their race thrived on the darkness. "When you see into the dreams of others, do they know you're there?" she asked.
Apothecary was not something that Laurent was terribly familiar with, but he believed it had to do with plants. Possibly poisons? Everyone jumps to poisons first, chances are it doesn't. And by nature he was too polite to ask so he just nodded, smile still in place. "At least now you get to do what you want." As for Laurent, he was not going to take much of an interest in what the humans did or how they treated who. It was no longer his business since he was not of them even if he wandered among them and had to pretend from time to time. Vampires had their own hierarchy which was unaffected by human laws. Plus, well, women rights were not a passion of his even if he did not have a problem with them doing as they wished. "And your house supports it, even better. Displeasing one's house is never a good idea." He liked his fangs where they were, thank you very much. "If I present myself, but mostly they think I'm a part of their dream, someone they imagined. Creates a complication if they see me wandering around but deja vu is a useful thing. I think I've been in yours, after I met you... and you probably don't remember. Dreams are fleeting when they're yours." Or so he remembered.
"I don't believe I'm in any danger of displeasing my house. I find their rules quite to my liking." There was little chance he knew what it was like to live one's life under such restrictions, so she let the subject drop. Yes, she got to do what she wanted, but it was more than that. She got to go out at night on her own, got to experience life though a whole new set of eyes. Perhaps she was just a baby vampire still and the novelty had yet to wear off. "Having met you, I would have thought it was my imagination bringing you in," she smiled. "I don't recall seeing you in any of my dreams, but I rarely remember them upon waking. I know that when I'm there it all seems so real, but the moment I open my eyes it all just fades away. Did you ever end up writing a book on dreams? I recall you mentioning that, the last time we met." She would have to read it now, seeing as how he had more insight than any human could hope to have.
"Good." Laurent did not know how other houses or families went about punishing their members for disobedience but he imagined that it could not be too much better than his own. Fang removal was likely the strictest. Even death was better because at least then you did not have to worry about feeding. Yes there were other ways to cut a neck or skin open but they were so... barbaric and not how vampires were supposed to exist. He would also not be able to understand the change brought about by Jezebelle's newfound freedom. He had never truly been without it even when he was a member of the army after all. Naturally he did not realize how strict his life was but it was nothing compared to a woman's, that much he was... sort of aware. "That's the nature of the dreams, that's why some people enjoy them so much." Too much. Laurent was toying with that line quite deliberately, but he liked dreams better. "But no, I haven't quite gotten around to that. One of the things about going into dreams all of the times means that I lose track of time in the regular one. Thank you for reminding me that it was my intention, however. And ah, right in here." He had a room at the house his family kept in Barcelona but he also had a small apartment where he went when he did not feel like dealing with the others. "It's not much, but it's good enough for relaxing. I might even have some blood in the fridge."
"Excuse me if I'm wrong, but it sounds as if you prefer dreams to reality," Jezebelle said with a little laugh as she followed him in to his apartment. This was the first time she'd gone to such a place without the intent to take advantage of the man inviting her. In this case, there would be no feeding nor killing, though the idea that he had blood in the back tickled her pink. For some reason, she imagined him keeping a man in the ice box, just for this sort of occasion. "You bottle it?" she asked, looking around. Nicely furnished, but it definitely needed a woman's touch. Or maybe just some flowers. "I suppose that would come in handy for nights when dinner is hard to come by. There are many tricks I've yet to learn." While she'd thought they were around the same age the last time they met, now she knew better. What she didn't know was how much her senior Laurent was, and even though she wanted to know, she knew it wasn't polite to ask.
A laugh, she was laughing at something that she doubtlessly believed was completely not true. Oh, but it is because I do. In dreams everything could be real. They may not have been his and so he could not have exactly what he wanted every time, but it was closer than reality ever got. Reality would not return his homeland before the insurgents, the rebels, had torn it apart and upended everything he had believed in during life. "Maybe I do." He did. If the elders realized it, they might have a talk about how dreams were not reality and should not be treated as such, but Laurent kept to himself enough. Bother no one and no one would bother you. "Yes, it was an idea I came across that seemed too good to not use. Humans bottle wine; why should we not bottle them?" And if someone died during a feeding, then why not bleed the rest out, save it for later? Waste not. "Though warming it up after it's been chilled is a good idea, otherwise it's congealed and no one likes that." At least Laurent did not. Jezebelle might find that she did. "With how young you are there are quite a few things you need to learn. When you've been around for over a century you'll pick up all sorts of neat tricks, I promise you. Please, have a seat. Would you like some blood, perhaps? Take the edge off?"
Now there was an odd statement. There was a point in her life when dreams might have been preferable to her waking world, but that had ceased with the deaths of those that tormented her. Dreams were an escape, so what was he running from? "But they're not your dreams. It's the false reality of someone else's imagination. While they can be thrilling, they fade without hope of continuation. Say you were to meet me in a dream-- it would be real for you, but I would likely remember none of it. It compromises the ability to form lasting relationships with those around you." Not that it was easy to do so in the first place, when they were so very different from almost everyone. Attachments were not something Jezebelle easily formed, vampire or not. "A glass of blood would be wonderful, thank you," she smiled. If she was delaying dinner for the time being, then that would help considerably. "I've learned most of the tricks of my own house, but it's all the little things that I've yet to pick up on. What else can you do besides see into other's dreams? If you don't mind me asking, that is." She was being nosy and she knew it, but there were so many different houses and he was the first person she'd met outside her own.
Real for him was what mattered. Laurent did not see any problem with preferring the dream world and someone who could not experience it as he did would never be able to understand. That was something he had accepted years ago. "No, but they keep me entertained. Living for this long and being unable to find my own rest means that I enjoy what I find in others. That and it trumps this world. Occasionally I find a good Frenchman and can show him what the country was like before it fell. I feel like perhaps I have taught valuable history lessons." And reminded himself of what it was like. Recreating wars could be so enlightening. "Besides, I live for longer than most dreamers and would find myself unable to form a real relationship with them. But I'll get you that blood." Rising, he walked into the kitchen that was not even separated by a door, pulling the wine bottle out of the fridge and pouring it into two different glasses. Luckily he had only bottled it the previous day so it had not changed much. Sipping at his he walked back and offered the other to Jezebelle. This was a first, a female vampire in his home drinking blood from a glass. "Seeing into dreams is a valuable thing, no one puts barriers up there. But you know one of mine, if you can tell me one of yours perhaps I'll think of sharing more." Laurent did not have a loose tongue and while he had never been forbidden from sharing his abilities he had never been encouraged to do it either.
Jezebelle hoped she never got to the point where she felt like fantasy trumped reality. That hardly made life worth living, and she had a lot more living to do, despite being dead. Dreamers died, yes, but there were other vampires in the world, and therefore the chance to build friendships outside of dreams. She wondered if he'd ever considered that, or if he was truly bored with everything in the waking world. Jezebelle found it quite exciting, now that she had different eyes to see it with. "I'm not entirely sure what I'm allow to talk about," Jezebelle smiled, taking the glass from him. She'd been told not to disclose their history, and that revealing their vampiric existence to humans (and letting them live) would bring certain death. Yet, Laurent was another vampire, and he wasn't asking about their history, he was asking about their abilities. "I can see in the dark," she said, going with the simplest. "All I need is the tiniest speck of light and it might as well be as bright as day."
Dreams were the place Laurent enjoyed. After his sire had moved on he had never been given a good reason to form any sort of solid relationship with another vampire. Fleeting things for the enjoyment of it, yes, but they hardly lasted. Three years was not near as long a time now as it had been when he was a human. In dreams he could have what he wanted and learn more about people than a conversation would ever give. Plus, really, it did fascinate him on multiple levels. An eyebrow arched up and he grinned in a 'really?' sort of way when Jezebelle said she could see in the dark. "Ah, yes, and I can hear a beating heart from across the room," he chortled, shaking his head as he relaxed back into the chair. "Come now, Jezebelle, I told you that I can wander through dreams and learn the innermost thoughts and feelings of people who think I'm a figment of their imagination... and you can see in the dark?"
She would have blushed if she'd had the excess blood to do so. "Well, I can," she said with a little laugh before casting her eyes downward. Shadows ran beneath their chairs, hugging the corners of the room where the lamp's light didn't reach. It was plenty for her to work with and she looked up at him with a smirk before letting herself be sucked into the shadows. One second she was there, the next she was gone. Or rather, she was right behind him, her hands resting on the back of his chair as she looked down at him. In a room with shadows, she could move from one to the other in an instant. "I can also do that," she said, her finger lightly tracing the edge of his collar. If he'd been human, this would have been an opportune time to take advantage of him. But he was not human, and thus there was no real reason to touch him. "It makes sneaking up on people quite easy."
Laurent sat up the moment that Jezebelle vanished. Because yes, she had vanished. He was a vampire and could move fast and all of that so he assumed others could, but that was not what was happening right then. Jezebelle was simply gone as though she had never been and, for a moment, he began to wonder whether or not he had just wandered into one of her dreams without realizing that he was not quite conscious himself. Well done, now I'm blurring the lines between reality and dreams so completely I cannot even- "Good god!" he exclaimed, unable to hide his shock at how quickly she had moved. No, not moved, vanished and reappeared. There had been no moving in that. None. Shifting he turned so that he was looking up at her, puzzlement clear on his face. "What was that? You didn't move, you were there and then you were here and there was no moving in-between... that's quite a talent, whatever it is. You must be an excellent huntress."
His reaction made her grin, pleased with herself for managing to surprise him. Catching a human off-guard was easy, but a vampire? It was something she hoped to master, just for her own enjoyment. "We call it blinking, movement through shadows. I can go as far as I can see another shadow to move through. I like to think of it like instant tunnels from here to there." It had taken work to master the skill, as it had been extremely disorienting in the beginning. There was nothing stealthy about blinking for point A to point B if she was going to end up falling on her ass at her destination. "It does make hunting simple, if I want to play it that way," she said, walking around him, back to her chair. "It also aids in our line of work." She paused. "Does your house, or family, have a profession of sorts? Or is that up to you?"
Blinking. Well Laurent supposed that it was a good enough name for it. Nothing that he could do but hey, not every vampire could do everything. Besides, he could not see the use for it for someone such as himself. "That's a pretty neat trick, definitely better than being able to see in the dark." A silly thing to lay claim to if you asked him, even if it probably did come in handy more often than not. But he was definitely going to have to remember to tease Jezebelle about it. "Your line of work must be a dark one if moving through the shadows helps it." So maybe an apothecary was someone who dealt with poison. Poison and darkness did go hand in hand after all, if you were going for cliches. "It explains why perhaps you had such a love of Poe... but no, my family has no special profession that I know of. We tend to do what suits us best, but we always do what would benefit us. No one would take a job that would reflect badly on another, we're close-knit like that." In a manner. "Such as I learn about people in ways that others wouldn't because it takes too much dedication. And ah, how did you put it? A dedication to seeing false realities of others without losing the ability to tell what true reality is." Say an Azraelan wanted a business but they did not know how to go about getting it from an owner who was steadfast about not selling - learning their dreams, their truest hopes and worst fears, would allow that to change. Very useful.
"My love of Poe started when I was still alive," she reminded him. "Though I will admit, my life was dark, even then. That might be why I enjoyed it. It made me feel not quite so alone." Morbid as it might sound, she found it comforting to know that others had seen into the darkness as she had, that they could embrace instincts that were feared. "Funny that you should put it like that, since we work almost opposite. We are chosen by what suits us best, through skills we acquire prior to turning, but without them we would not be what we are," she said, then sipped of her blood. There was no law about disclosing what they were professional, since they would be unable to earn business without doing so. It was just rare that another vampire would require their services, as most were adapt at killing without aid. "My family is one of assassins, Laurent. And I, as you've probably guessed, have an expertise in poisons. And flowers," she smiled. "But my gardening comes secondary."
"But even then you showed signs that were clearly attractive to your vampire family," Laurent pointed out. He may not have known exactly what her family did but from the vague sounds of it he had the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was something much darker than his own. Which meant it probably required darker people. Oh, well, there she just came out and said it then. They were assassins. While Laurent was not one hundred percent sure how he felt about that, he supposed that whatever worked... though he could never imagine killing someone for anything but their blood, and then only by accident. If say they saw his face and could pose a danger for his continuing to live as he did. But just killing because someone wanted them dead? That was worse than war. As a former solider, he was not sure just how he could think of them. And it was very hard to imagine Jezebelle killing people. "One supposes that would work for you. Do you... just kill whoever presents an obstacle? Are there rules? Sorry, but it's so very different from mine, the structure must be rigid."
"There are rules, as I imagine there are in every vampire house. Discretion is important. Mixing business with pleasure can turn attention towards us, which is always a bad idea," Jezebelle explained. "If I'm being paid to kill someone, I do so in a way that has nothing to do with what I am. I do not take their blood. It's not what I'm being paid for, and it would alert the client that I am less than human." These were things that every Shade should know, but they were not secrets. It was just smart practice. "If you're asking about me, personally, then no, I don't kill someone just because they're an obstacle. I only accept jobs I am morally comfortable with fulfilling-- I kill rapists, pedophiles, and men who think it's acceptable to beat women." At some point, that might expand, but for the moment that was doing her just fine.
Laurent felt like he was getting an education that he had not expected when he first went out onto the streets looking for a meal. An insight into how a house of assassins might work. He was still not sure how he felt about knowing that that was there. Again, former military officer and he had been uncomfortable with the idea of spies back then even if everyone used them. It just seemed... wrong on some level. And is paying someone to kill so much different from paying them to spy? No. But he was not going to impart that to Jezebelle, it was unimportant and after listening to who she killed... well, he could hardly blame her. "Commendable," he admitted with a smile, tipping his glass of blood in her direction. "A noble assassin if one of those has ever existed, in the guise of a beautiful lady in a dress." Who would expect that? No one. And so it was perfect. I wonder if she ever dreams of killing then, she did say her dreams remained dark. "I can see why a house or family such as that would continue in this world, people will always have need of your services."
Her intentions were noble, at least at the moment, though she'd been told that would fade over time. As humans around her came and went, she would care less about the value of their lives, and then she'd be more willing to kill outside the rules she'd imposed upon herself. Until then, her sire would just roll his eyes and allow her to do as she pleased. There was no point in forcing Jezebelle to do something she didn't want to, or he'd find himself on her hit list. "You'd be surprised with what a woman can get away with," she said, peering at him from beneath her lashes as she took another sip. "I like to think I'm ridding the earth of useless scum. My sire would tell me, whatever helps me sleep at night. Perhaps I have a skewed conscious, but at least there's a reason."
No, he would not. Laurent could remember all the things that his sister had gotten away with when they were children. His father would believe that Maddie was incapable of playing this or that prank on the servants and neighboring families just with how she batted her lashes and claimed she would never. Him on the other hand? Right for the switch. It was simply a way of life that stated no one expected women to do certain things and therefore they could get away with it easier if they actually did so. Laurent preferred the world of dreams, but he was not quite an idiot. "I had a sister when I was alive, so I can imagine the things you get away with." Because Jezebelle was older and actually did things that caused true harm. "But yes, whatever gives you the peace to sleep, no one would want to disrupt that. Your sire, I am guessing, still stays with you? Is it because you are young or due to an extra connection of some sort?" Perhaps he was prying, but Laurent was curious and would have his answer one way or another.
"I would have liked a sister," Jezebelle said wistfully. She always believed a sister would not have treated her so harshly. It was impossible to know such a thing, yet she had a hard time believing a woman could be as cruel as men the men in her life had been to her. "My sire?" she said, smiling though a touch embarrassed. "He is my lover. When my husband was alive, his business dealings were a bit... unsavory. I was not a part of them. I had no idea what he was involved in. Dixen, my sire, came looking for him one day. I've been with him ever since." If she had not fallen in love, she wasn't entirely sure what she would have done. As it was, she was happy at present, and found life with Dixen to be much less restrictive than life with Vincent had been. At some point, she thought she might branch out on her own, but she was still young. She had time.
"Sisters are wonderful," Laurent agreed. He did not know what had happened when Jezebelle was alive or if she had a sibling of any sort, but he had loved his. Maddie was better than Raoul at any rate. A smile did cross his face at the revelation of what Jezebelle's relationship with her sire was. Not so surprising, it seemed that that was the case with a lot of vampires. "I think that's a common thing. Much the same for me, and I'm sure it was for my sire as well and most others. Sometimes it just happens, but I really think that has an effect on it." If you loved, or cared deeply for, someone then giving them eternal life seemed like a better idea than just watching them grow old and die. Laurent hoped that he never cared about anyone that much because the last thing he needed was to turn someone. "If you're happy then that's what matters, right?" Even vampires deserved their happiness where they could find it.
"Are you still with yours?" she asked. Sure, she was being nosy, but he'd asked first so he could hardly deny her the same question. While she had no idea how old he was, she had the feeling he could not claim to be as young as she was. It made her wonder how long a relationship could last. Right now, it felt like she could be happy with Dixen forever. "I have found more happiness in this life than I could have dreamed of," she told him. "It seems outlandish, even, with all the death around me, but it is what it is. I look forward to seeing what the future holds, for each year seems to bring new advances. It is a joy to be living, even in death."
Laurent could not help it, he laughed at the question and shook his head. Perhaps it was not near as amusing as he thought but, well, it was to him. "Oh no," he said once he stopped laughing, a grin still stretching his face. Well and good to be happy with someone and think that perhaps it would always be that way, but Laurent had seen what happened when you thought that. They found someone else. You learned that you were more interested in dreams or astral projection and not devoting time to someone a little too... drab. Things changed, even vampires, though humans were unlikely to see it with their poor eyes. "Phillipe and I split quite a long time ago, perhaps seven or ten years after my changing. He and I had different views." The fact that Phillipe had been a male was not a problem to him and he oftentimes forgot that it likely was for others, it was his life after all and he did not go about telling people. Only when asked. "I thought I was happy, but realized I wasn't; it was just new."
His response had Jezebelle's mind spinning, trying to make sense of what he'd said prior and what he'd just told her. If she heard him right, their situations were similar, except that his sire had been a man. She wasn't at all sure how she felt about that, but did not want to judge if at all possible. After all, he'd accepted that she was an assassin without batting an eye. If his interests were in his own sex, then... she supposed it was a same. He was one of the nicest men she'd ever met, so she supposed it made sense. Most of the men who liked women were pigs. "I'd like to think that Dixen and I have more than that, but I guess we'll have to wait and see," she smiled. At the moment, it was much more accommodating. Single women did not live alone or buy houses. People saw them as married, which made life easier, even if it wasn't true. "Without a limit on the length of my life, I suppose anything is possible."
If Laurent had been a telepath he may have had a better response. As it was the length of time between his admittance and her next response was long enough for him to figure that she saw a problem with it. Narrow-minded vampires, such a terrible thing. True, he was narrow-minded in some ways. His house was better, France was the best country and the mortals were to be pitied and played with because they would not be around for long enough to make an impact. "You can think it and maybe you're right, but maybe you're wrong." Laurent had believed a great many things directly after his changing and now? He doubted that any of them had been worth the effort expended on their behalf. "I bet that right now I could prove a thought process of yours wrong. Call it a game if you will." He finished off his blood, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and leaned forward, dark eyes dancing with amusement. "I told you my sire was Phillipe and I would be willing to bet my apartment that you're now struggling with the belief that I prefer men. Don't be ashamed, it's a logical assumption and completely improper to discuss, but as we're vampires I think we can talk about what we want without the norms applying." They had just drank blood after all, typical society would frown on that too.
Confusion washed over her features, not sure what he was saying until he got right to it. It flustered Jezebelle, so used to people avoiding subjects like this altogether, and she could not believe he was daring to speak on it. She would hardly admit to her own sex like, let alone talk about others! He was moving forward in the conversation, though, and she refused to be left behind. "I was only thinking that it's such a shame all the nice, good looking men prefer the company of other men," she said, feeling color rise to her cheeks, even if there was barely enough blood to do so. "I don't feel right judging something I have not experienced for myself, but if you can swallow the fact that I kill for a living, then I certainly can accept who you invite into your bed!" Jezebelle would swear on the Holy Bible that her cheeks were bright red. She was warm enough that it had to be true, never considering for a second that it might be the blood she'd just imbibed. Were they really having this conversation? Enjoyable as it might be, she still felt like someone might interrupt them any second and accuse them of... dirty conversations! Or something.
How sweet, she was calling him nice and good-looking. Laurent knew that it was true - he had eyes and still gave off a reflection he had no problem admiring - but hearing it was another matter altogether. The faint color that touched her cheeks amused him to no end. Yes, this was the sort of thing that one simply did not discuss, but Laurent's view of the taboo had been changing ever since he had gone into a world where he could see everyone's innermost secrets. No one could see his unless he gave them away and perhaps, in a way, things like this made up for what he did. Not that he felt any guilt for it but if there were some great scale then maybe sharing things about himself would tip it towards a better balance and get rid of a few of the times he had seen things that were private. "You're all flustered," he murmured, amusement flickering in his eyes. "And see, I never said that it was men who I invited, just that my sire was my lover and happened to be a man. The two don't exactly go together past that, no matter how much it hurts your mind to consider that." Smiling now, Laurent shrugged his shoulders. "Women, my dear Jezebelle, are much to my preference. Even if I seem too nice for it." He could not help but be amused by her reaction, certain that if she were a human like when he had first met her then she would be a brilliant shade of scarlet by now.
"Are you saying you like both?" she asked, giving up on her ability to dance around the topic. It just wasn't working like it should, not when he was willing to read the words between the lines. "Perhaps it is my upbringing, or the fact that I have not lived as long as you, but there is still much in the world that I have yet to experience or accept. The... the sexual nature of men confuses me-- why they can and will break all the rules just to get what they want. And yet it's women who end up ashamed, and--" She pressed her lips together and shook her head, confused about where she was going with this. He was so grounded, not the least bit shaken, and there she was getting all emotional. It was hard not to, with the morals and obligations ingrained in her since birth. She wanted to see past them, but it was taking time for those forced opinions to fade and give way to her own. "If I was to be with a woman, they would burn me at the stake, vampire or not."
"Yes." Though Jezebelle had a point... and not at the same time. Laurent would admit himself a touch confused at why it bothered her so much. "Since I'm not a woman I cannot quite understand where you're coming from," he said after a moment. Perhaps that was something else he should study when he was looking through dreams, the sexual differences. Since it had not been a major part of his life, the military coming first always after his family, he supposed he could overlook. His eyebrows did knit together in a frown at her stating that she would be burned at the stake for being with a woman, as though indicating that the same fate would not befall him. "Ah, and so you know many men who would sleep with each other?" Laurent asked, his voice smooth. "You are different than me then, for I do not. I confess myself surprised that someone who I thought so bright would crouch down to the level of indicating that just because I'm a man means that I'm not in danger of death should the general public learn either what I am or who I might have preferred in the past. I'm afraid my gender wouldn't shield me for doing something that wrong." That he knew of. He was not royalty after all, therefore his oddities would not be overlooked or excused for this or that reason.
"No, that's not what I meant," she said immediately, shaking her head. "I know no other men who have been with a man, and doubt they would ever admit to it if I did. I know the treatment would be just the same, or perhaps harsher, as it's men who would impose it upon you." It hurt that he had dropped all good impressions of her based on this one opinion, one that she had already tried to explain she knew so little about. This was why she hated men-- they believed women incapable of intelligence just because they were emotional creatures. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut, but had thought him different. It turned out he was just as judgmental as all the rest. "Men can be cruel," she said softly. "It is not a fate I would wish on anyone." Her imagination could run rampant with what they could do to him, but she would not speak of it.
The way that she had said it had not made it seem like she expected the same treatment. Laurent had heard her saying that if she were to do it she would be burned at the stake, not that she was surprised he had not been yet. "Yes, but that's not how you said it," Laurent pointed out. He was not trying to be cruel or judgmental, simply pointing out what he heard and how he had interpreted it. It was actually difficult for him to judge other vampires, seeing as how they were on the same level as him. "How I heard, and perhaps it's just a language barrier of some sort, was that you thought the treatment would be worse for you. My mistake." Hopefully she was not too offended, and he could not help but let his barriers down, reaching out to feel the emotions Jezebelle was feeling. "It's in our nature, we're raised to be cruel in place of weak. I'm not saying it forgives all of what we do, just that it happens. You... seem to have something personal against us." Laurent knew what could happen in the world, it was one of the reasons why he had no problem distancing himself from it as he did, but he had never really experienced it. "That's another thing I can do - you asked earlier and I didn't answer; I can feel emotions of whoever I'm around." At least it was not thoughts.
"That is not what I meant to imply," she said quietly. Jezebelle knew that she'd only been thinking of how the situation would go on her end with no comparison to what a man might go through. Somehow she'd put her foot in her mouth, and continued to feel stupid about it as he pointed it out. As she was just about to try and respond to his observation, he disclosed his ability to feel her emotions. That was the point in which Jezebelle went numb, clearing her mind in an attempt to feel nothing at all. It was a practice she'd gone perfected, yet it had been a while since felt the need to use it. The last time she could recall letting go in such a way, she had been curled up on the floor, her arm broken as her husband kicked her. "The men in my life have not been kind," she said, eyes locked on his. "I did not learn to make poisons to kill rats, Laurent. They were put to good use for my own survival. I have been violated enough in this lifetime, so if you would please get out of my head, I would greatly appreciate it."
But it was what she had. And since she was able to get upset over thinking he meant something else, why could he not be bothered what she implied? Laurent could not help saying what he did. His mouth simply moved without express consent of the mind. Sometimes he wondered if it truly was a side-effect of how much time he spent out of touch with reality. In a dream if something like this happened he could simply leave, not face the consequences. Instead he was left feeling suddenly cold and empty. Well now that was a defense mechanism he did not like and it showed in how he pulled back, rubbing at his arm. "I'm not in your head, anyone who knows facial expressions would be able to know almost everything I do," he pointed out, feeling a slight bad for having upset her but unable to apologize because he had simply been curious after seeming to offend her the first time. "And nor am I whoever you learned to make poison to kill. I've never harmed a woman in my life, mentally or physically, nor do I ever intend to. It's wrong." Perhaps just as sexist to admit that he would rather hurt a man, but he had never been yelled at for that.
Was she now implying that she'd meant to kill him? Jezebelle couldn't follow his train of thought and wondered if she was making as little sense as his responses seemed to make to her. Even if he was not in her head, it felt like an invasion, at least at that moment. Why had he said it at all if her emotions were clear on her face? If it was not to make a point, then there was no reason to point it out. "I apologize for my outburst," she said solemnly. "It was uncalled for and, it seems, confusing." What else could she possibly say that would make this right again? She'd been so enjoying his company until they'd moved into uncomfortable terrain. Now she just wanted to take back the last five minutes and remove them from history. In a world where her acquaintances were few, it would have been nice not to have awkwardness between them.
Awkwardness was not Laurent's favorite thing. He had dealt with it enough when he was a human. Unfortunately he was not quite as good at dealing with conversations and women as he thought. I might have to work on that. Perhaps... when she had said that living in the world of dreams was like escaping reality she had been right. Or had he thought that? Eh, hard to remember those things. "And I..." Yeah, apologizing was not really his strength. At all. He had a strong sense of pride that had never faded when he was changed. "Should perhaps take a lesson in what to say when in the company of a lady. If you can forgive me for bringing up a topic that caused you discomfort, then well... I'd be grateful." What? He was not good at this and it was evident in how he shifted, even going so far as to rub at the back of his neck and offer a sheepish sort of grin, like a kid caught doing something wrong. "I'm not used to dealing with the full consequences of my actions anymore, I guess, since most of my interactions are in a place where I can just vanish if things are uncomfortable."
"That is a drawback, isn't it? Though maybe that's just my point of view. I tend to attack problems head on, rather than run away," she said with a tiny smile. Hopefully he wouldn't take it as a hit towards him, since it wasn't really meant that way. There were plenty of cases where running away might have been the acceptable solution. "So you can... tell what I'm feeling, not what I'm thinking, correct?" He might have just said so, but she'd been too distressed to really understand what he was saying. "Is it all the time? I would think that could be overwhelming, at least in a crowd of people." She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, taking slow breaths as she kept her own emotions under wrap. "Do you prefer to feel some emotions over others?"
"Certain problems only." Laurent had been a military officer and would not flinch away from a true confrontation. But one that involved fists or some other sort of violence, not arguments that came because he had offended someone. That was a completely different matter. "But yes, only what you're feeling. Being a telepath would be such a headache." Being a sort of empath had been bad enough at the start. Sometimes Laurent wondered how he had kept a firm grasp on himself when he had other people's emotions constantly clashing and mixing with his own. "At first it's like that, but after awhile you learn how to keep a wall up. And yes actually, I prefer anything that is not depression or anger. Those things kind of bleed over." And a depressed Laurent was one who would find a drunk, drink their blood, and retreat to the dream world for who knew how long. "Much like how I'm sure you prefer certain emotions of your own over others."
"I wasn't sure if it felt different, feeling emotions from the outside," Jezebelle said. "So if you're depressed, does it help to go find someone who's not and spend time around them? Do their emotions rub off on you from that direction as well?" She could easily see how anger would feed from one person to another. Sometimes that happened even without the ability to feel emotions. "What kind of things can you do with a talent like that? Can you tell if people are lying?" She could usually tell that from a heartbeat, but other vampires didn't have one to use as a gauge. Seeing as how she'd been truthful in all that she'd told him, she didn't have that to worry about in this conversation. "Sorry if I'm asking too many questions. I'm just curious."
Wow. Laurent could not recall the last time he had been asked so many questions about something that he viewed as a lesser talent, more of an annoyance than a blessing if one forgot about it and lost hold of the shield to keep others out. It was almost like Jezebelle was an eager child, which actually, Laurent found a little endearing. And it was definitely better than carrying on about something that had had her upset. He could take this. "It does, but then to get rid of my depression I usually just find a happy dream and stay there for awhile. I'd rather see happy things than feel them because I always end up wondering why they're happy and if that reason would make me happy..." It got to be a little too much. "Curiosity isn't a crime, Jezebelle, there's no need to apologize for having it. But yes, if I want, there are certain emotions usually attached to a lie. Nerves that it might be discovered, relief when it is not... that sort of thing."
When he mentioned going into dreams again, Jezebelle really did wonder if he spent too much time there. It wasn't her place to say or push, but if they continued to spend time together she would have to point it out eventually. Dreams might be great, and they might make him happy, but it wasn't real. "It sounds like a useful ability, a much easier way to read people than just facial expressions and heartbeat," she said. "Oh-- Is it appropriate to ask the name of your house? I know so very few. It would be nice to think of it as something other than Laurent's line." In fact, this might be something she wanted to start writing down. While it was a small matter right now, long term she figured she would run into many, many more, and she didn't want to forget.
Laurent nodded. "Yes, I'm sure it comes in very handy for those members of my house who deal with people regularly." Not himself but he had already pointed out his preferences. He was sure that there were others who liked this ability and viewed it as perhaps their most valuable, he was just not among their number and content with that. "I see nothing wrong with it - House of Azrael, an older house. And since I told you mine, you should tell me yours." Knowing the name of the assassin family would perhaps be a good thing. Then he would know which ones to be perhaps a slight more cautious about. Not in the way that he would not speak with them, just the way where he would be genuinely wary. There was not a single doubt in his mind that if he irritated Jezebelle enough then she would be able to get rid of him, smaller than him and female or not, it was likely a fact.
Azrael. She would have to remember that. It seemed simple enough, and she would think of them as the house of dream walkers who could feel her emotions. She would have to tell Dixen about them and see if he knew any others. "Umbra Mors Mortis," Jezebelle said, giving the Latin name, as she'd originally been taught. "Ombra della morte in Italian. Or just Ombra. The Shadows or the Shades. I don't know how they prefer to translate it between languages." That was something she would need to clarify with Dixen, just so she didn't mess up the name of her own house when spoken in different tongues. "I am forbidden from speaking of our history, but I can say that we are an old house as well, though likely more secretive considering our dealings," she smiled. "I have probably said too much as it is."
The Shades. Well that seemed like a fitting name for a house of assassins. Laurent nodded at Jezebelle's declaration that she could not speak about their history. There were certain things no one really wanted to disclose and he could understand. Especially since, in the normal realm of a conversation, the name of his House and their abilities would not have come up. Jezebelle just happened to steer it in a not-normal direction. Ah well, it was not like Laurent went and reported to someone on a regular basis about what he did or did not get up to and with whom. How droll would that be? "Then don't say anything else. Wouldn't want to get you into trouble, now would I?" Chuckling, he leaned back and sighed a breath he did not need. "I am glad to see you've become this. It does suit you Jezebelle, much better than growing old ever would."
"Thank you," Jezebelle said. "Odd as it might sound, I've found a sort of peace that I'm not sure I could have attained while living. I still have a lot to learn, but I find it easier done among friends." While they'd only met twice, Jezebelle considered Laurent to be in that number. Even if he could read her emotions, he seemed more trustworthy than almost any other man she'd met. Except Dixen. Her sire had saved her, and thus remained at the top of her list. Somewhere in the house, a clock rang out, indicating the late hour. Jezebelle smiled, bowing her head slightly. "I should take my leave. It's getting late, and I still have some hunting to do. Though I do appreciate the appetizer. It's a habit I will have to put into practice."
Laurent found himself wondering if he would count as a friend despite his oddities and the ability he had just shown for upsetting Jezebelle. Ah well, that was not a question one actually asked and so he would just consider it to himself. "Ah yes, wouldn't want to keep you too late." She was new and that meant her sire was likely concerned about her. Or would be. The last thing that Laurent wanted was to offend, in any way, a vampire of an assassin family. "It was extremely good, and surprising, to see you again Jezebelle." Laurent rose and sketched a deep bow, smiling when he straightened. "Hopefully we'll meet again, since we're both going to be alive for quite some time." Perhaps there would even come a time when the waking world held some sort of a genuine appeal to him again. Who knew?