Leon Vincent (voodoowho) wrote in st_margarets, @ 2015-01-03 13:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: leon vincent, location: hydra dorm |
Narrative: What I Did For Love
WHO: Leon Vincent
WHEN: Jan. 1st, after THIS [backdated]
WHERE: Leon's room, Hydra House
Sherry was an aperitif. In this case, the sherry Leon had had with Ms. Menides after being released from the dungeons - evicted, really - was taken as a symbol for cultivating an appetite, a hunger for the future. They had toasted the New Year as midnight passed, listened to ABBA and talked about what his father had said to her when he'd come to disown him. She had also told Leon that he would be moving down to Advanced year and not completing his time at St. Margaret's this coming spring. He had taken it in stride as best he could. He'd still be with Andrei, provided this coven James was forming didn't prove to be the thing that really got Andrei expelled, or worse.
Leon knew already that his things would be missing when he returned to his room, but he had to brace himself just outside the door before getting up the courage to open it.
It was bare bones.
Leon stepped inside, eyes adjusting easily to the darkness now that he was a vampire, and he came to a stop in the center of the room and just stood there. Hollow.
After a long moment, Leon began touching empty surfaces. Andrei was out ice fishing with Mr. Kaden and Mr. Cavanaugh and wouldn't be back until morning. He had plenty of time to just be by himself, absorbing everything. The scents, the sounds, the heightened way the world looked, it was all absorbed by the fangling in small doses. He touched the table that used to hold the voodoo dolls he'd made of people, both active and inactive, and had hidden beneath a black silk sheet to both protect them from being disturbed, but to also shield them from a cursory inspection from a staff member. Making voodoo dolls of others, he knew all too well, was against the rules.
They were all gone and turned to ash in the forest.
The only thing Leon had left of his craft was still, hopefully, locked up in a safety deposit box in Camden. He'd asked Caleb to bring it to him, but after only a brief conversation with the half-siren, one that ended like they all usually ended, with Caleb cutting it off, he'd decided not to entrust the other Expert with something so dear to his heart. It had been a lie, that he'd sent Barclay after the box, but Leon reasonably believed Caleb had left it alone either way and gone to focus on Mickey instead. And good for him.
Spell components, sacred relics of the Loa, even his handmade dreamcatcher, all of it was gone.
The only doll that he knew of that survived the Supreme Houngan's seizing of his holy items was the one of Mickey that Ms. Hallowfen had been keeping. It was still active and was currently wrapped securely in his rolled blanket, which he laid carefully down on the bed. The empty bed. It wasn't empty because it had been stripped of blankets and sheets. Those were still there. It was empty because that was a place he'd been wanting to avoid coming out of the dungeons to see. It was a place he had shared with both Mickey and Andrei, both for different but equally intimate moments when he'd still been human and still in possession of a beating heart. That, those moments, they were gone now.
Leon looked at the bed, reaching out to touch the sheets, and his fist slowly clenched in the fabric with a flash of fangs.
He left the room like that and headed into Camden. The Torres Residence was by now a familiar landmark to the Haitian vampire and even though every logical part of his body told him this was a bad idea, especially so soon after getting out of the dungeons, he still moved, not realizing when he'd turned to mist for faster travel, but making it to the New Year's Eve party in record time by foot.