|poeticmisery (poeticmisery) wrote in manchester_rpg,|
@ 2010-06-12 09:07:00
|Entry tags:||beth, desmond|
Keep the Change
Who: Beth and Desmond
When: Friday Night -> Saturday Morning (post dated on purpose)
Where: A coffee house
What: Leaving an unintentional surprise
Desmond couldn't help but stifle a long yawn as he walked, one foot lazily stumbling past the other one, his hand covering his mouth feeling the mist of his hot breath against it before he brought it up to rub at his eyes a little. The night time cause his vampiric blood to bristle, and caused all of his senses to come alive in a way few could understand, but it didn't stop a shiver from coming from him as the night air chilled his chest through the flimsy shirt that he wore. As he rolled his shoulders uncomfortably and attempted to right his shirt so that it was covering as much of him as possible, he glared at the man who walked knowingly in front of him.
"It's not even moon set yet, Balthazar..." Desmond said with another long stifled yawn, his mouth hanging open for what seemed nearly a full minute before shut it, gritting his teeth a little against another gust of frosty wind. Sighing, he finally started to move faster, feeling his feet sink deeper into the sand as he made his way to catch up with the other dhampir, the movement starting to get his blood moving through his heart and caused a pleasant sensation of warmth, even if it was for just a moment before he slowed down to walk at the other man's brisk pace.
"Hey, Balthazar... not even morning yet... why are we trudging through the sand dunes?" Desmond reiterated with a bit of an annoyed tone, looking at the long dark hair of the other man as it flowed down past his shoulders. Balthazar did not turn, and frustratingly did not offer him an answer, but that was not completely unexpected. The Dhampir liked to wear mystery as often as he liked to wear red, which made him stand out, even now, against the dark dunes. Desmond had once asked him about it, but the only thing that Balthazar had said, was that it was easier to not worry about staining his clothes if he had them stained red to begin with.
"You have not learned any reasoning from me, I see." Balthazar said, turning to look at him with his one good eye. The other one was covered in a thick black eye patch that was tied around his head. When Desmond stared at him challengingly, the older Dhampir snorted and shook his head, turning to look forward again. "If I was not here to teach you something, I wouldn't have bothered to wake you. You should know by now, little one, that I do not need you. You need me."
"I think it is your ego that is the one who needs me, old man." Desmond growled a little, though he didn't fight too hard against the older dhampir's statement. It was true enough, and he'd learned to realize it over his time with him. Desmond had done little in the way of doing anything for Balthazar that the dhampir couldn't have done for himself if properly motivated. But Balthazar had taught him invaluable lessons about life, and shown him how far he would really need to go if he wanted to become a true vampire hunter. "Are you planning on at least-"
But before Desmond could say another word, a shovel was tossed at him at a violent speed. He caught it before he realized that it was being tossed at him, his hand snapping on the handle as he spun it around behind him like a bo staff, his hand coming up to guard in case anything else was thrown at him. It was in one fluid movement, a matter of instinct rather than thought. Though he couldn't be sure with the shadow over Balthazar's face, Desmond thought for a moment that he saw a slow grin come over his grizzled appearance. "You are not quite as simple minded as you look, little one. Which is good, it means that you can actually be taught. I was beginning to have cause for concern. Now, it's time to dig."
Desmond eyed him skeptically, but then taking the shovel, spun it back around and began to dig in the sand, while, expectedly, Balthazar sat down on one of the dunes and watched him. This was by no means the first meanial chore that Desmond had been assigned to by the older dhampir, but rather one of a multitude, and Desmond had learned that questioning them usually meant that they wound up being more extended in their nature. Balthazar would always assure him that there was a reason for the things that he was made to do, but often Desmond couldn't help but wonder if some of it just wasn't that the man was too lazy to do his own chores.
"Let me guess, this is for upper body strength..." Desmond said sarcastically as he dug deep. At least this was at night, where his powers were at their fullest. Growling he set himself into it, taking care not to break the shovel by taking up too much sand, even though he could have lifted it. Not really expecting much of an answer, Desmond was surprised when the other dhampir rose to look at how much progress he was making, but that surprised look turned to a flat stare as the dhampir turned back and went back to sit down again without saying a single word of encouragement.
Growling a little, Desmond resisted the urge to 'accidentally' toss some sand in the direction of the dark haired dhampir, and instead just moved faster. He was almost in up to his neck when he heard a strange thump. Digging around it he managed to uncover some form of chest, and grabbing it with one hand he pulled hard, until the medium sized chest had been freed from it's confines. As he held it up to get a good look at it, it was snatched by nimble hands as Balthazar clicked his tongue a little, moving to open it outside while Desmond fought to scramble out of the hole he'd just dug.
"What the hell is that?" Desmond asked as he watched him open it. Without a word something was tossed at him, which he caught. The weight and jingle of it betrayed that it was coin. Gold coin. About 100, to be exact. Desmond had learned to tell without looking, one of the many feats which Balthazar had impressed upon him. Nothing made a client more nervous than having a greedy hunter counting his coin there. But then, the hunter that didn't know how much they were getting often found themselves without food or supplies either.
"You said that you were feeling undercompensated for your...'services'," Balthazar made it sound as if he was using the word in the lightest possible sense, which made Desmond's scowl a little deeper. "So now you can feel better about yourself." He said as he started to pocket the rest. Desmond had a hunch that there was something the old Dhampir needed to buy, and that was the whole reason behind this little trip.
"Why not just go to a bank?" Desmond asked, knowing that, like any question he asked, there was a good chance he'd be ridiculed just for asking this one.
"Because, Desmond, I have been alive for nearly two hundred years. Mortals do not know, by and large, that we exist. There are rumors of us, but they are no where near as prevalent as those about vampires. What do you think would happen if I went to a bank 100 years from now, and asked to take out the money that I had deposited? They would give me a blank stare, tell me that the man who had deposited that money was clearly dead, and I would have no gold. In addition, when you give your gold to an institution like that... you are putting your trust in others... I have told you how I feel about that one..."
"Yes, you have told me, Balthazar."