phookabishup (phookabishup) wrote in supernextdoor, @ 2011-11-14 17:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | 09.17.11, jacob, jacob and torrin, torrin |
I'm changing your ..
Who: Torrin and Jacob
Where: The Palace
What: I KNOW YOU!
When: Saturday, Early Afternoon
Warnings: None
Torrin had spent most of the morning doing what he did best, going through his research. And he was about as over excited as a child on Christmas when a package arrived to his Master’s house with a bunch of information that he had requested. Things like old photographs, and paintings. Along with papers that held birth dates and death dates, dates that houses were acquired, and all the other information in between. Most of it happened to be around the dates of the Civil War, which happened to be where he was in his research on his family. Thankfully he now had the funds to be able to acquire all these wonderful documents. And he swore he could have spent hours now just going through them, trying to commit everything to memory. The last thing he pulled out of the package he had to be very careful while he was unrolling it. Damn he should have worn gloves, because the oils on his fingers could cause deterioration. Before he went any further he slipped on a pair of cloth gloves and went back to unfurling the … painting. Of a family. Trying to compare the notes in the paperwork, he was having a bit of trouble placing on who these people might be, and it wasn’t marked as so often paintings and photographs were during those times.
Making a little ‘hmph’ sound, he paused to take a better look at it. There was a child, a woman, and a man. But something jumped out at him as familiar, like he had seen something before in this picture. His mind was racing in trying to put together what wasn’t connecting yet. Court. Of course, he’d seen one of these people at court before with his Master. Now rushing to dress in the clothes that he normally wore when he went to court with Lucien, he frowned when he looked at himself in the mirror. Each time he could have sworn he looked like one of those elves from The Lord of the Rings just because of the outfit alone. Grabbing the painting on his way out the door, he drove over to the palace. And practically let himself right on in, before remembering to knock. The poor servant who answered the door didn’t get a hello or anything. “Do you know any of these people?” he asked her, and when he saw her shake her head, he rushed past her determined to stop everyone he saw with the same question. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, he actually looked like he was a very happy man on a mission. Yes, he was probably causing a ruckus in the palace. But he just had to know. Had to.
Jacob was making his way through the halls when he came upon Torrin. He'd seen him before. The giddy little man who always seemed like he was nearly ready to come out of his skin with giggles and fits. He came with Lucien to court on occasion, but Jacob had never really been acquainted with the man. When he saw him shoving the painting into the face of yet another servant and questioning her about it, he arched a brow at him. What the hell was this guy doing? Letting out a little sigh because he really didn't want to get mixed up in this mess but was going to anyway, he made his way towards the young man. "Can I help you?" he asked him. "I think you're frightening the servants."
Torrin couldn’t help the fact that he might be frightening the servants, and nearly lost the air of giddiness that he was feeling in that moment when he heard the voice telling him that he was, or at least the other man thought he was. “Oh, I’m sorry Sir, I was just trying to figure something out.” he spoke before he actually turned to face the man. Then it was like a mirage of expressions on Torrin’s face. First confusion, then jaw-dropping, then looking down at the painting as if he was scrutinizing it. Then it was eyes back up on Jacob, almost as if he’d seen a cross between a ghost and Father Christmas all rolled into one. Now Torrin could have done the same thing he had been doing with everyone else, but that seemed a little redundant at this point, instead while he was at a loss for words, he kind of held the painting out to Jacob, as if he was in complete awe. Then with a gloved finger, because he hadn’t taken those off, he finally cleared his throat. “That’s you, right Sir?” he asked, pointing at the man in the painting.
Jacob felt a bit like he'd seen a ghost himself when that painting was thrust nearly into his face. There was his wife, June, the lovely creature. And Lily Rose, his little angel. He remembered sitting for the painting all those years before, he remembered it hanging over the mantle in the sitting room, but most of all he remembered how June loved that damn painting. She wouldn't have parted with it, except in death. If Jacob had ever talked about moving, the first thing that would have gone would have been that damned painting. And there it was in the hands of some obnoxiously happy little man. "Where did you get this?" Jacob asked him as his eyes wandered over the painting again, not even bothering to look up at Torrin. Sure, he had a smaller portrait of his wife and daughter, but nothing quite like this one. He wanted it immediately and was prepared to pry it out of this boy's fingers if he couldn't get him to hand it over easily.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out by the expression on the other man’s fact that Torrin had finally found the right person. After terrorizing nearly everyone else. So many questions swirled through his mind, like what the man’s name was, who was the woman, the child. What were their names, what were they like, what was he like .. and so on and so on. It wasn’t everyday that a person in his research was there in front of his face. Right there, standing and looking like he was reliving the past. A past he now had to know. “I bought it.” he answered quickly, then thought he had to explain himself. “I’m related to someone in this painting. I just don’t know who, well the child is a given. But it came in a package that I had shipped from Louisiana. It just arrived today and someone, you I take it, seemed familiar in it because I’ve seen you at court, Sir..” he rambled on, giving as much information as he could muster out in that moment. Oh, where in the hell were his manners? His mother raised him better than this, “Uhm, I’m Torrin Ruthford..” he then stammered out, as if that explained everything too.
Though he might not have realized it, his name did explain a lot. "Everyone in this painting is dead." he told him. "Myself included in a way. It is indeed me in the portrait." he told him as he finally looked up at the man. "The child is my daughter, Lily Rose. The woman, her mother, is my wife June Thomas. She was formerly June Ruthford. I suppose she's the one that you're looking for really but unfortunately she wasn't as fortunate in fate as I have been. I'm Jacob Thomas your great-great-great-great-something-or-oth
He didn’t know why, but a frown formed on his lips when the man said everyone in the portrait was dead. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t come across countless of papers and pictures of people that were deceased. It was probably the fact that there was someone standing in front of him that caused the frown, and he felt for the man, feeling suddenly sorrowful because he didn’t know if he was bringing up bad memories or not. He never had to really deal with that either. But when Jacob told him the names, in his mind things started clicking with what he had read earlier on the papers that came in the package. “June Ruthford, sister to Thad Ruthford .. he was my great-great .. or however many greats grandfather.” he explained as if he was almost reading facts out of a book, which in a way he was, just the book and papers were back home. When the man started talking about the price and paying for the painting, Torrin couldn’t really do anything but shake his head. “No, no Sir.” he spoke probably sounding as if he was about to refuse the man fully. But he held the painting in one hand, and started to take off one of his gloves. “All I ask, is if you’d tell me about them. You see, Sir, I’m trying to keep records of my family line. And while usually all I find are pictures, paintings, and things that are normally documented, I rarely get the chance to actually know what the people were like..” he explained while now handing over the glove to Jacob, he didn’t know if it would fit, but he didn’t want the painting to get any further damaged when he would hand it over.
Thad. Jacob remembered him well. He was a decent young man. Strapping. He looked a lot like this boy now that he was thinking about it. Memories buried so deeply that Jacob hadn't realized he had them came flooding back to him as he looked over Torrin once more. If the boy wouldn't let him pay for the painting, the least he could do was tell him about the people in the painting and humor his little genealogical needs. Taking the glove from him, he slipped it onto his hand and took the painting from the boy, bound and determined to get it framed once more behind some glass to protect it and hang it above the mantle at his plantation home. "Come with me." he told the boy as he turned, the painting in hand and headed down the hallway in the direction of his suite.
Josslyn was sleeping in her room, still nocturnal of course, and he didn't want to disturb her. Leading Torrin in to the sitting area, he motioned for him to have a seat on the sofa and then summoned a servant to attend to the framing the painting. Once it was carefully secured with trusted employee, Jacob moved to sit in a chair beside the sofa where Torrin now sat. "What do you want to know?" he asked him. "Shall I give you the novel of things I remember for you to write down? I can have someone bring you something to write with or I can get a tape recorder if you'd rather do things that way." Jacob, ever the formal one, motioned towards the tea that was ever present on the table in the sitting area. "Would you like a drink?"
He couldn’t help but feel a little bit of a loss when the other man now held the painting. And it wasn’t Jacob’s fault that Torrin felt it, the guy was just used to hoarding everything that concerned his family that he came across. Maybe later he could convince the vampire to let him take at least a picture of it, just so he’d have something of it’s existence in his possession. He followed when he was told to, with no words to say. It was almost as if he didn’t want the man to suddenly change his mind. A broad grin spread on his lips as he heard Jacob telling a servant to frame the painting, or at least make arrangements to have it framed. He felt a little better now in his choice to hand it over, at least it wouldn’t be sitting in the dark where he would have put it, in his attempts to keep it protected. “A tape recorder would be wonderful, Sir, then I can always go back and write the important bits down, just in case anything were to happen to the recording.” If anything Torrin was avid in his work, and careful to have things documented in hopes nothing got lost. But he shook his head at the offering of the drink, “No thank you.” he was much to in awe still over the other man to even think about drinking anything. He’d probably end up spilling it all over himself in his excitement.
Jacob sent a servant to retrieve a tape recorder and when they returned, he gave it to Torrin and shooed the servant away so they two of them could have this conversation without prying ears. He waited until Torrin had started the tape recorder. "Do you have any questions you want me to answer?" he questioned of the man. He figured it was best to start with those questions that Torrin might have mustered up in the time it had taken them to get situated.
It didn’t take long for him to turn on the tape recorder, and then to check and make sure that it was recording properly. And he nearly let out a laugh as the thought of how very Interview with the Vampire this felt like. “What were they like, what was my .. Thad like? What was life like back then, was it love from first sight with June?” he blurted out, forgetting all of his manners in that moment, and then giving a little sheepish look because of it. “My apologies, I’m getting overly carried away, aren’t I? Really, Sir, whatever you want to tell would be great.”
It did feel very much like something Anne Rice wrote, but Jacob tried not to think too much on that or he might have laughed a little himself. Jacob started with the first question since that seemed to be what Torrin was probably most interested in. "Thad was a strapping young man." he told him first. "I met him before I met June. He came by carriage to our plantation looking for a bride. Unfortunately for him, my mother only bore myself and my brother so there were no women for him to choose from. My mother was a woman who liked company, so she insisted he send word to the rest of his family and have them come for a meal. When they arrived, June was with them." He recalled the whole thing as if it had happened yesterday. In a way it felt like it had. "I can't say that it was love at first sight, but the moment I had a chance to give her a second glance, I knew I had to have her. She was beautiful and elegant and yet she didn't seem quite as... stuck on herself as most women of that day and age did. I asked for her hand and her father agreed. I don't believe I loved her when I first married her nor did she love me, but after a while I grew to love her unlike any love I'd ever felt before."
Torrin adjusted in the seat a little, as if preparing for a story time. Sometimes he could act like such a child. But then again, if one got technical, in the way his kind worked he was still pretty much a child, even if he was an adult by human standards. He drank in every word that Jacob was telling him, already trying to come up with more questions, but not wanting to interrupt the man so he wouldn’t lose his train of thought. A grin spread on his lips, even though they didn’t marry for love, but that they grew into it. “If you don’t mind my asking, because this might seem a rather bold question, but it has I guess become a custom for the surname Ruthford to be passed down. Even if a woman marries, she keeps her name, was this not the custom then?” It might have been something that had happened later, and it wasn’t the first time he’d come across names changing, but it still made him curious nonetheless. “I’m sorry, I should have waited until you were finished, I … please, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know more Sir.”
Jacob smiled a little at the question. "It was a custom then too." he admitted. "June did take my name, but it was a hell of a compromise. She ended up being June Ruthford Thomas. Lily, our daughter, was Lily Rose Ruthford Thomas." he explained. "I'm not really sure where the tradition got started, but even way back then, the women were stubborn and willful about keeping their last name. I don't really know how I was able to convince June to take mine in any shape or form to be honest. She was a stubborn, hardheaded woman." To say the least. His wife had given him more than the occasional headache.
He actually gave a bit of a laugh at the explanation that June had been a strong woman, and it reminded him a little bit of his own mother, sure they were probably different in a lot of regards. But stubborn and hardheaded? That was his mother to a tee. Though, it just made him feel a little more connected to someone that he’d never get the chance to meet now. “What of Lily Rose? What was she like?” he asked, no longer feeling a little awkward at asking the questions, as Jacob hadn’t given any inclination that Torrin blurting out the questions was a bothersome thing. He also couldn’t help that he was starting to feel a little like Jacob was family. Distant family sure, and by marriage. But still, the family ties were there, and that was something that Torrin was big on, family. Even if his was now so far away.
Jacob smiled a bit more brightly at the thought of his daughter. "Lily Rose was beautiful." he said first, because she was. "She took after her mother with those light eyes and straw colored hair." he murmured. "She was just as hardheaded, but I think a bit more of her personality was my own." he admitted. "She was a daddy's girl if there ever was one. She liked to play piano. She'd sit for hours on end just playing melodies off the top of her head, the most beautiful sounds you ever heard." His smile flickered a little at the memories and he let out a little sigh. "She was a darling girl."
He watched as the man’s emotions went from being all smiling to one that almost .. wasn’t. And for a moment Torrin wondered if he took the conversation further than the other man was willing or should have gone. “I’m sorry Sir, I don’t mean to, if my questions are upsetting you in anyway, we don’t have to talk about this.” he vocalized, as much as he was really enjoying in hearing about these people, he didn’t want to make the other uncomfortable. He brought up a hand to slightly scratch at the back of his head, a nervous little habit if he ever did have one.
He shook his head a little at the man's words. "It's not your questions that are upsetting me." he told Torrin. "It's the memories that I can't seem to forget that aren't always so easily talked about. But you've given me something I never thought I'd see again so I'm willing to tell my story. My wife and my daughter's stories as well." he added. It was the least he could do for that portrait of the three of them when times were happier.
Torrin gave a little nod, as if he understood, even if he really didn’t. Because he didn’t know the story, just the fact that there seemed to be a sadness in the man that he had just been assuming was because he was a vampire and had to watch his family grow older until .. well until their flames snuffed out. “Not everything has to be said today though, Sir, so please only what you are willing to speak on. I doubt I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon, my Master seems to be quite fond of having me in his collection. And .. “ grins. “I’m not getting any older, not for a long time anyway. So please, you don’t have to push yourself, Sir. I’m pleased to bits just to have heard what you’ve said so far. It’s far more than I usually get to learn. But speaking of which, if you’d ever like to know .. I don’t know, more about your late wife’s family since then til now, I’m happy to share what I have.”
"Not getting any older?" he questioned. He didn't think that this boy was a vampire, but he could have been fooled, highly unlikely, but perhaps. "Ah, yes, you're part of Lucien's little 'rare collectibles' collection then. So what are you, exactly?" he questioned. He'd get back to his own story soon enough. Now it was time to turn the tables and let himself forget again, at least for a little while.
He shook his head, “Nope, I don’t age like normal humans do. It was at a normal rate growing up, but it’s slowed now, I can feel it’s slowed. If that makes sense. If I’m anything like my father, which all signs point that way, then I’ll age the equivalent of a human year about every five hundred or so years.” he gave a little shrug. It was pretty much being immortal to him. But he explained on anyway, as he didn’t really have much to hide. Though he smiled at the mention of Lucien, he liked his Master, almost having placed him into a father type role, even if he’d never tell Lucien that. Or call him any sort of endearment like that. “I’m a phooka Sir, or puca depending on what you read or what descent you study.” he spoke sounding factual all over again, but then he grinned, one of the boyish and rather impish grins he usually plastered on his face. “It’s a form of fae.” he added on just in case the man had never heard of the phooka’s before.
Well damn. He was practically immortal then. Only without the need for blood. Lucky little bastard. "How interesting." he commented, because it was, but he didn't want to seem too interested because that just wasn't the man that Jacob was. "No wonder Lucien wanted to obtain you. You are quite rare. And you won't die either, at least not for a long, long while. I suppose he quite likes that, doesn't he?"
Torrin chuckled, though practically beaming in the fact that he was complimented in the fact that he was interesting. It didn’t take much for Torrin to be his usually happy self. “He does, very much so. I always think that it must bother him when those in his collection grow old and pass on. He takes so much care and time in order to find us all. I can’t help but feel badly that I can’t do more to ease whatever pain that must cause.” he gave a little shrug, he knew that he’d remain with his Master as long as he was wanted in the collection, he was already loyal in that way. To him the man was family now, so why the hell not? “Oh, I have to be careful, I’m not infallible even if I age slower. Much like vampires and their affliction to sunlight, or weres with the issue of silver. Phooka’s have their own little pitfalls.”
"It must be difficult." he agreed. Jacob tended to only befriend vampires if he could help it. It was easier that way. Less friends that could die meant less dead friends. Or something like that. "True immortality doesn't exist." he murmured. "We all have ways to die, even those of us who are ancient." And that was the truth in so many ways.
Torrin nodded, in complete agreement with the man’s words. “I agree, Sir, even if I’m not ancient yet. I’m still a child by my kinds standards, and oddly enough, if you were a phooka, you’d probably be considered a child as well.” he smiled, actually amused by that thought, considering he was like a great-great-great something or other to him. “Hm, I don’t know if you’d be happy to know, but most of my family, or my side of the family anyhow .. The Ruthfords.. they’re still in Louisiana, I could perhaps look into trying to find if anything left from your time might still be floating around there. If the painting was kept intact, it means that there could be other trinkets or baubles.”
Jacob had contemplated going back to Louisiana to search for things from his home, but he'd figured they were all gone and hadn't bothered. "I'd like that." he told him. "If that painting made it through... I'd really like to see what else might have stood the tests of time. If you need any help or any financial compensation for doing that for me, I wouldn't mind it." he assured the man.
He shook his head. “No need for the financial compensation. I get an allowance, and it tends to be more than I can usually spend. And I like the research, it’s fun. I can’t promise anything will come out of it though, Sir, but I’d like to try.” he told the other man, being completely honest. He already felt like he could form a bond with the guy just on the family aspect alone. So why not share in that knowledge?
He nodded a little. "Alright. Well if you do need my assistance in anyway, please don't be afraid to contact me." he told him. "It's the least I can do for the painting alone." he admitted. "I have a few small ones of my daughter and of June, but nothing of the three of us. At least until now. Thanks to you. You have my gratitude."
Torrin beamed again, looking rather pleased, like he was genuinely happy now that he had done a good deed. “You’re welcome Sir, I’m glad that it’s gone back to who it belongs to.” he told Jacob, “You’ve already helped, I hadn’t gotten far enough in the paperwork to notice the change in the last name for June, so I can actually probably find records of the marriage and then probably a list of things that were documented as being acquired .. well whatever had paperwork. But it’ll be something to go on. And I’ve started with far less before.”
"I'd like to have some copies of those records if you do find them." he murmured. He'd really like to have anything he could that was his wife's or his daughter's. "You'll find their death records as well. Though I suppose that's a story for another time since I'm sure you have plenty of things you've got to be doing and I know I have a few matters to attend to. I will tell you, however, that they were both murdered." Which should explain a lot of the reason for Jacob's shift in mood earlier. "I'll see to it that one of the servants gives you my number and address. Perhaps you can come to the plantation next time we speak."
Torrin would have no problem making copies of the documents for Jacob, it was usually the originals that he had trouble parting with now. It was no wonder that he tried to get on with his Master, since Torrin was kind of a collector himself .. in a way. His face however shifted from the happy face he usually wore to that of a mixture of sorrow and pity when Jacob mentioned that they were murdered. “I’m .. I’m very sorry for your loss, Sir, especially in that manner.” he found himself saying, because really it was the proper thing to say. “That would be helpful, and I would like that very much. I didn’t think there would be anything that could closely resemble home like a plantation this far north.” he mused, now wondering on how much like it would be compared to down south. He wasn’t even thinking on the fact that it could be like walking in a completely different time. Which by the way, would have him having a boyish fangirl moment whenever he did go to visit.
He nodded, accepting the remorse and condolences. He might not have known June and Lily Rose, but it meant a lot to know that he cared enough to have at least some form of sadness for the both of them given the manner of their deaths. "I bought it especially because it reminded me of home." Jacob told him. "It's a lot like the house I lived in when I was married to June. Which is why I wanted that painting so badly. It'll hang above the mantle like it did back in Louisiana. June would have wanted it that way."
No, Torrin might not have known them, but he knew that given the stories that he was hearing and then when he would read the paperwork back at home, he’d feel like he had known them. It was just how he was, and he liked the fact that he held those connections with those in his heritage. “Then I’m even more glad that I got a hold it and it can be back in your hands.” he spoke with a grin, actually looking forward to paying the other man a visit and see it hanging up to be seen and adored. “Though, I should probably start begging forgiveness from all the servants I scared.” he spoke then, his hand scratching at the back of his head again. “I got a bit .. over zealous.”
Jacob chuckled a little. "I think sometimes it's best to keep the servants on their toes." he told the boy, giving him a wink before standing up and letting his hand rest on Torrin's shoulder. "Thank you for coming to see me." he said. It was an odd thing for Jacob, thanking someone. At least someone that he hardly knew, but in a way, Torrin was family. "You don't know how much that painting means to me and how much having it back... well... thank you again."
Torrin would have given the man a hug, especially after the hand was on his shoulder. Because Torrin was a hug type of person. But he refrained himself because he doubted the hug would be well received. Instead he brought his hand up and patted the top of Jacob’s. “You don’t have to think me, Sir, really. I’m glad for you to have it, it would have just been hidden away in my care, like most things I find. And that wouldn’t have done the painting any justice.” He shifted a little so he could get to his feet, “I’ll be keeping in touch, and I’ll let you know when I find anything.”
"Thank you." Jacob said once more before turning to summon a servant. She was instructed to give Torrin a number - well a few numbers - where Jacob could be reached and the address of his plantation home. "Call me and we'll schedule a time to meet." he smiled. "And you can meet Josslyn. She's a newborn vampire in my care who's been staying with me." he explained. "Pretty little thing, looks a lot like Lily Rose." he murmured, thinking about the girl. "I'm sure you two would get on well and she does need people that aren't me to get her out of the house every once in a while. The poor dear is practically fearful of leaving the house. It'll have to be after sundown, but we'll iron out the details."
Torrin thanked the servant when he was handed a list of numbers and an address while Jacob was talking. “I’d like that, Sir, both the coming to see your home, and meeting your charge.” he spoke, his brain then trying to figure out if charge was the right word in this scenario. It worked back in kingdoms and the like when someone would take care of ones that weren’t family. Maybe it fit here too. A smile slid back onto Torrin’s face, but Jacob didn’t need to know that it was mainly because of the opportunity to meet the pretty girl that he was speaking of, and the fact that it seemed he already had permission to take the girl he didn’t know out. Which Torrin wasn’t complaining, just here was hoping the girl was a looker, at least in his opinion. “I’ll leave you to your business, then, Sir. Thank you for your time, and your stories.”
"You're quite welcome, Torrin." Jacob said before bidding the man goodbye and letting the servant escort him out of the suite. He hadn't expected to get that painting back, let alone see the damn thing ever again. Maybe this Torrin fellow wasn't quite as batty as he thought.