Elias Gordon (malkovian) wrote in thisdarknight, @ 2016-07-06 08:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: french quarter, adam fenn, bastion delacroix |
like a poem poorly written
Who: Bastion Delacroix & Adam Fenn.
What: Adam seeks out his new friend for some 'normalcy,' as much as a Malk can offer.
Where: Deja Vu, French Quarter.
When: Following this thread.
Warnings: None.
Progress: Gdoc, complete.
Bastion sat with his back to the entrance to Deja Vu, earbuds plugged into his head. The bar was quiet, but the evening was early; it was also a Thursday, which usually saw more locals than tourists. The Kindred was writing in a small notebook that looked covered in his lazy scrawl, and completely oblivious to the outside world.
Adam had left his Sire-appointed ghoul standing by the door, eager to be rid of his shadow if only for a moment. He spotted Bastion quickly and shuffled through the small crowd toward the booth. For an instant he peered over Bastion's shoulder at the notebook's page, but guilt soon nipped harder at his heels than did his curiosity, and he moved away. He drummed his fingers atop the table as he slid into the bench across from where the other Kindred sat.
"Evening," he said.
Whether it was the earbuds, whatever he was working on or an utter disregard for the outside world, Bastion made no move to acknowledge the other Kindred. He continued to scribble in the notebook. Adam reached over, his fingers playing over the edges of the pages.
"Hey," Adam said, a little louder now. "Whatcha working on?"
Bastion glanced up toward the bar, then over to Adam, and nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Jesus fuck!" He said a little too loudly, causing a few other bar patrons to glance over. Bastion reached up and plucked his earbuds out, glaring at Adam.
"What the fuck, man? Do you always go sneaking up on people while they're enjoying a decent podcast? Do you even know how hard it is to find a decent podcast?"
Adam bit his lip, but his laugh slipped free all the same. "I guess I don't," he said. "I tried to get your attention first. I'm sorry." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "Which one were you listening to?"
Bastion sighed, and pulled out an ancient iPod. He flipped the screen to show Adam.
"Black Tapes. It's a shitty production, but they have some good ideas. I've been writing it down so I can use the computers at the library to research what they're talking about." He left the iPod in Adam's grasp, studying the other Kindred's face. "But I'm guessing you didn't come here to talk about podcasts."
"No." Adam ran his thumb down the corner of the iPod. He set it down, and looked up to his friend. "I just came to hang out, if that's okay. The hotel is getting a little crowded." His eyes flicked to the door, where the ghoul lingered, looking out into the street in a decent affectation of apathy, but the Kindred said nothing to call further attention to him. "Anyway. What ideas are you looking into?"
Bastion's line of sight followed Adam's, brows furrowing at the sight of the man his fellow Kindred's gaze landed on. He let it go for the moment, not wanting to discomfort the neonate any further.
"The unsound," he replied, flipping around his notebook to let Adam look at his scrawl. "Supposedly this anti-noise that Satan made. You listen to it and you're supposed to die a year later. A musician in the first season of this 'cast mixed it with some music, which is a real douchey move, but it's not like the writers have followed up on that storyline." His notebook was a mess of handwritten notes and pictures, most of which was illegible to anyone who didn't understand his writing. He tapped on a few places as he spoke.
"Always had an interest in the occult, just never thought things would end up like this," he continued, a slice of a grin marking up his face.
Adam twitched a smile. "Who would've," he said. "Do you believe in that stuff, though? Satan and killer music and all that? I mean..." He shrugged, and pushed back from the table to rest against the high-backed bench. "It's fiction, right? What's to research?"
Bastion took back his iPod. "You thought all of this was fiction a few nights ago, didn't you? I mean, you never would've guessed that you'd go and suddenly wake up a blood sucker." The slender man shrugged right back. "Who knows what's fiction and what's not?"
Adam raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but his smile did not fade. "Point taken," he said. "'Devil music' just sounds like something my grandmother believed in. I didn't expect it from you. So are you worried you heard that 'unsound'? Or is that not the kind of thing that can kill something like us?"
"Oh, fuck that," Bastion replied, slouching back in his seat. "If there was something like that out there, I think it'd be killing a hell of a lot more people. Then again, if it's not Elvis, maybe it's buried in a record shop in Nashville somewhere. I'm not paranoid about it, if that's what you're implying." His fingers took up a tapping on the table, and he shifted to the side, unable to keep still. He glanced over at the man that Adam had looked to before, who was still lingering outside the bar.
Bastion jerked his head in the man's direction, unable to redirect his curiosity. "You pick up a tail, or are you being babysat?"
"Guess." Adam's gaze darted briefly toward the ghoul, but soon returned to his friend; or rather, to the page before him, where he tried and failed to decipher the mixture of writing and doodles inked there. "I had a little, uh, run-in with someone who used to be Lancea et Sanctum, so Antoine insisted. My fault, so whatever, but still. It sucks. You guys should really have a directory or something. 'Stay away from this person'."
"You got in a fight?" Bastion's brows climbed his forehead. "I'm surprised they came all the way over here. Usually they stick to their side of Canal Street. It's like the French versus the Americans all over again. Lemme guess, you got curious and went snooping in the Garden District?"
Had he been able, Adam would have blushed. Instead he only shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes fixed on the unreadable scribbles before him. "Not exactly. She's, uh, another guest at the hotel. Came by with a little snack after I screwed up with Jessica. Things kinda got out of hand."
"Oh." Realization struck across Bastion's face. "OoOoOoh. Well. I know the lesson about sticking your dick in all the wrong places, but I forgot to impart that the last time we spoke." Adam tried not to choke on his bark of a laugh.
"Someone from the Sanctum at Savoy... I mean, Antoine's hotel," he amended, belaboring his note of Adam's familiarity with his Sire, "that's kind of unheard of. That's also a different way of recruiting that I'm not at all familiar with. Shit, they tried to shove pamphlets in my face. Well, not exactly, but yeah. Would have signed up a lot faster if they'd gone the other route."
"She actually didn't say anything about the Sanctum at all," Adam said. Somehow it came out sounding like a question. "Not that that means anything, obviously. As far as recruitment goes it won't be very effective. There are limits to even my stupidity."
"Huh. Who knows. Shit though. I guess you could've gotten in trouble for worse things." Bastion's hands moved to the edge of the table, where he gripped it with his fingers above and his thumbs below, fingers still tapping out some beat he only heard in his head. "The Sanctum's some scary shit, but I mean, it's all fucked up no matter what group you go with. If I had to pick, I'd stick with Savoy. Slightly less crazy. Savoy likes calm, I like calm, I've got no complaints."
"Good to hear." Adam's brow quirked as he looked to the frenetic rhythm his friend was making. But he was uncomfortable enough; there was no need to turn a conversation potentially difficult when it had gone so unexpectedly well. Instead he pressed on, seeking out a fresh perspective on the unwanted tests he faced.
"I hope you know I'm not going with anybody but him," Adam said. He felt chided by Bastion's earlier comment, so pointed even in passing, and his Sire's name did not come so easily this time. He cleared his throat. "He made me, he's helping me, I'm sticking with him. But what's so scary about the Sanctum? They're a church, I thought. Tempting sinners and healing the saved?" He shrugged. "A little hedonistic, I guess, but it doesn't sound like anything to worry about. Aside from the territorial stuff, I mean."
"Um, yeah. A little is one way to look at it. They're defanged now, at least, for as long as I've known them, since the Camarilla is no longer a thing. You know what the Camarilla is right? The history of this place? Prince Vidal? Any of this ringing any bells?" His tapping followed in the wake of his words.
Adam's eyes brightened. "Yeah," he said. "I've actually been reading up on that. Well. Skimming. They were kind of in Vidal's pocket, is the impression I got. That's pretty typical of churches too, in my experience."
Bastion rolled his shoulders like a spider had landed on him. "Yeah, he was a big believer in all that crap. Made him come down hard on the kindred around here. Which was the reason why they killed him, yah know." He leaned back against his seat, resuming his tapping. "Savoy's probably just worried about looking weak in front of the others. Meunier gets her claws in his childe, things might start to slide for him. I dunno, you're young so it's not like you have a shitton of influence around here. No offense."
"None taken," Adam said. "To be honest I don't want it. Ever, preferably. Especially now, when I'm still fumbling my way through all this." He waved, dismissive. "But seriously, it's church. Nobody needs to worry about Meunier converting me. You're all stuck with me." He grinned. "Get used to it."
He tipped his chin toward Bastion's quick tapping. "So what's this about?" he asked, his tone teasing. "Did you get some coke with your dinner or something?"
Bastion glanced down at his digits as though he'd been unaware of their movement. He forced his hands still, putting them on the table in such a fashion as though they'd betrayed him.
"It's, uh, part of my condition. Sort of. I think, anyway." He sighed. "I guess no one's made a big deal to you about my clan. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."
"Condition?" Adam's brow furrowed, and he shook his head. He thought back over Savoy's comments on Bastion, the way he had not precisely expressed enthusiasm with Adam's consorting with the Malkovian. A soft frown briefly crossed his lips. "No, I haven't heard anything. Should I not ask?"
Bastion's eyes narrowed as he concentrated on Adam's face. Two fingers started to tap again, but he pulled his hands into his lap, where they were free to play their soundless music.
"It's not rude or anything like that," he finally admitted. "Just people tend to look at you kinda funny when they find out you're a Malkovian. Sometimes. I mean, not like everyone knows. I'm sort of lucky in that I didn't get the worst of it. My Sire, on the other hand, she was a fucking basket case. Hearing voices, the works. Sometimes people think you're making it up for attention, but, hah, I tell yah, if I wanted attention I wouldn't try to pull this kinda shit."
Adam's frown deepened. "No, I can't imagine you would," he said. "Look, it's not bothering me, so don't worry about that. I was just curious. It sounds like it could've been worse? That's a really awful thing to say. But you know. Is the tic all you ended up with?"
One hand rubbed Bastion's forehead, eyebrows pushing upward as his eyes widened for a moment. Then he sat back. "No. It has ups and downs, good days and bad. Sometimes I'm like this, where I've got so much energy I don't know what to do with myself. Always have to tone it down on the tours because I've scared some of the guests before. Then there're the days when I can't even get out of bed.
"But yeah. Couldn't be a drop dead sexy vampire getting tons of pussy like some!" He smile-grimaced at Adam, whose visible discomfort immediately returned. "Sorry. I'm not bitter, not really. Anyway! You didn't come here to listen to me whine. Actually, I'm still trying to wrap my head around why you're here. Being Savoy's childe can't be that boring."
"I know this is shocking," Adam said, "but I like hanging out with you. You don't make me feel like an idiot and you don't seem to be trying to use me for one thing or another. It feels kinda… normal." He shrugged, a sheepish twitch flitting over his lips. "I'm sorry for prying. Been away from home less than a month and I'm already forgetting my manners. But you know… if there's something I can do to help, on the bad days or just whenever, let me know."
"Uh, thanks. And...that's not a bad reason. It's been awhile since I've been approached by another Kindred who didn't want something one way or another. Sorry if I've been fucking rude, it's just...I guess you get to be so old that mind games and power trips are all that get people off after awhile." He returned his hands to the table top, where they began to tap out a fresh beat. Bastion kept glancing down at them, trying to control the movement.
"You just wanna be careful with those questions. People find out how green you are, bad things are always bound to happen. Believe me."
"That figures," Adam said. "Good thing I don't really talk to anyone but you. Not yet, anyway. Antoine's already asked me to go with him to this one thing, though, so I guess I need to get it together a little quicker." He nibbled at his lower lip, turning over Bastion's warning. There were stories within it Adam wasn't sure he wanted to know; the message was clear enough, and he hoped he could avoid learning further details the hard way.
"So what's your plan tonight?" he asked, smiling brightly as he tried to warm to better subjects. "Podcasts and creative writing?"
"Uh, yeah, hah," Bastion replied. "Like I said before, I'm pretty boring. Plus since we're kinda cordoned off in the quarter, shit gets old pretty fast. Can't even really just sit here and get drunk. Gotta get a kine to do that." His fingers were pushing at the table top, as though in an attempt to rub off the polish. He noted what he was doing and forced them to his lap once again.
"Where're you from? Obviously not here, but from your twang, not too far off either."
"And here I didn't think I'd let a y'all slip out…" Adam chuckled. "North Carolina. But don't judge me by the news you're hearing out of there. I'm from Asheville, land of organically grown hippies and fixie-riding microbrewers." He tipped his head toward Bastion, for a moment looking like nothing so much as a curious puppy. "You?"
The slender man shrugged. "Here. Local, probably wouldn't know it though. Never picked up any kind of accent, probably because I was kicked around in the foster system for awhile. By the way, you owe me a dime now every time I hear a 'y'all' out of your mouth." His hands were moving in their odd march across the table, but Bastion let them be as his focus remained on the conversation. Adam laughed again, nodding apparent agreement.
"You miss it?"
"Every day," Adam said. He smiled, shy and suddenly self-conscious. "My family, mostly. They stay after me about coming home this fall, but I don't know if that's really an option. So I keep putting them off."
Bastion nodded, glancing down at his hands. "What'd you tell them about being here?"
"That I got a job." He shrugged. "I was a sous chef before, so they're used to me keeping long, weird hours. As far as they can tell nothing's really changed except my time zone." He squirmed a little in his seat. "Sorry to ramble about them. I'm really not trying to be an asshole, I just keep kind of tripping right into it."
The other Kindred shook his head. "S'cool. I never had anyone I had to make excuses to, so. Guess it's good to get some ideas in case I ever have to." He grinned, moving his hands back to his lap. He scooted a few inches over on his seat, then settled back against the backrest. "But how are you liking it here so far? You're adjusting pretty fucking well for someone who got bit and dragged into a whole new world of shit he apparently didn't believe in a few weeks ago."
Adam laughed, one hand raising to the nape of his neck. "Honestly? I think it hasn't really sunk in," he said. "I try not to think about it too much. Or at least not all of it at once. Some things still really don't sit well with me, but you know. You get hungry and lizard brain kicks in and justifies things, rationalizes them…" He shook his head. "I don't know, man. It's just weird."
Left unspoken was the certainty that he had barely scratched the surface of this new world of his. Adam could understand well enough that there were layers to this place he had yet to see; everyone he had met had said as much. His introduction to the Kindred had been a relatively kind one, and left to its own devices, his imagination could readily supply a steady stream of ways the situation might turn darker and far less comfortable. But for now he only tried to smile anew, and to push aside those quietly nagging worries.
"What about you?" he asked, eager to turn the spotlight away from himself. "You always been into this… occult stuff? Did you know about any of this before?"
Bastion shrugged, spreading his hands wide. "Sure, I always liked ghost shit. Been doing this tour thing for way too long. Didn't think that it would land me in all of this crap." Hands landed back in his lap. "I mean, I liked it, I'm not sure I believed in it. I've been inside a lot of supposedly haunted places around here, but, like you said, I guess nothing really sunk in until after...all of this." He swirled a hand in the air to imply their conversation, the bar, the whole of the quarter with its mixed lot of living and not so alive.
"It's one thing to make a hobby out of reading cheap horror novels and podcasts, but this is a whole other deal."
"No kidding," Adam said, nodding along with Bastion's assessment. "So far this is not at all what True Blood promised." He wrinkled his nose. "Although I guess that's for the better, in some cases…"
Bastion burst out laughing. "Hell no, that's no comparison. I mean, there's a couple things right, but a machine gun will hit a target on the off chance. Besides, I haven't met any fucking fairies except the ones that hang out at the Pub and Parade."
Adam snorted. "Well," he said, his tone teasing. "My first big disappointment of my new life. The fairy cake is a lie. We got all of the drama and none of the magical girlfriends."
The skinny man wiped at one of his eyes. "This life is full of disappointments, so good that you're learning that now. Ah man. True Blood. That's hilarious. I guess if you need some kinda primer it's better than that Twilight trash, or Anne Rice. Do not get me started on how much Lestat weeps. That one was written by Kindred though, just for shits and giggles."
Adam's brows shot up. "For real?" He laughed. "That explains so much. You know what? We should do a trashy vampire movie marathon. I'd say I'll bring popcorn and beer, but…"
"It won't be the same, but why the hell not. You ever heard of What We Do in the Shadows? Now if you want a vampire primer, that's your movie." Bastion drummed on the table top, smiling.
"I haven't, so let's start with that one," Adam said. His smile reflected his friend's, as bright and unguarded as it had ever been in life. "I'm actually looking forward to this. As long as you don't make me watch Twilight again. My sisters already dragged me through that hell once and I'm not going back."
"Oh, fuck no," Bastion replied, disgust lacing every word. "If we do anything with that movie, it'll be burning it in the middle of the street. Fuck those glittery pieces of shit." His thumbs bounced up and down. For the first time in a while, he actually found himself looking forward to the company of someone who existed outside of his head.