The Nature of Things in Love and Murder During the night of "Love you, Hate you." After the events in the thread.
It wasn't long until Izzy found himself standing over by the food table, completely frustrated. The vampire in the red dress was nowhere to be found. What was more, while he'd been looking for her he'd lost track of that other one, the male vampire who, the last time he'd looked, had seemed infatuated with a shortish man who looked decidedly familiar. That seemed to be happening quite a lot, in fact, almost everyone in the room seemed to have some kind of personal drama.
Perfect, just absolutely fan-bloody-tastic. Poor souls, they'd probably gone off with them. If they, like seemingly everyone else, weren't in their right minds, they were off to meet with their respective dooms. He couldn't help but feel that it was partly his fault. He could have stopped them if he hadn't been so damn stupid.
This was before he turned around to discover two things. One, the shortish man was alive. Two, the reason he looked familiar was because Izzy knew him. Am especially cruel part of him now wished he had gone off with the vampire. But he looked for all the world to be alive, and not just another body on Izzy's conscience, so there was reason for Izzy to step up to him, smile a little, and say in an incongruously friendly tone, "Ah, evening to you, sir."
Simon slumped against the food table despondently, eyes scanning the room intently for pretty much the same thing as Izzy. Difficult though it was to explain it, and even more difficult though it was to admit it, he found the absence of John released in him an acute emotional misery which was pretty much entirely alien to him. This in turn triggered a gnawing paranoia that there was something deeply, deeply wrong with him all of a sudden, while simultaneously setting off a flurry of butterflies in his stomach every time he saw a glancing lock of dark hair in the crowd of masks.
Hadn't John said he was just getting something to eat? Shouldn't he be here?
At the sound of the familiar voice to his side Simon turned his head, recognizing the boy at his side instantly, "Ah, Israel." He let out a slight sigh and turned back to scan his eyes across the crowd once again, honestly fairly disinterested in the boy right now. Where was Mr Abott? Why wasn't he here? Simon sighed again, before (more out of a sense of ritual than one of good manners) asking, "I trust you're enjoying your evening?"
"You needn't call me that. Izzy is fine." He felt like he'd said this before, but perhaps he hadn't. He wasn't especially fond of his first name, and usually only used if if he wanted to be formal. Otherwise it reminded him too much of his mother berating him. He glanced around the room again. If the vampire was as interested as he seemed, he would have been here. A somewhat sick feeling gathered in the pit of his stomach. If not Simon, then someone else was in danger.
Then, he realized something, and he grinned involuntarily for a moment before immediately realizing it probably made him look sinister. Or perhaps mad.
Turning to look at Simon, he said, "Not especially," but he lowered his voice before continuing, "But I saw you were enjoying yourself. Never would have thought you'd have it for dead boys." He glanced around the room again. "They're good at doing disappearing acts."
"Israel sounds better." And Simon obviously called people by whatever names he happened to fancy at the time, so Israel it was, whether Izzy liked it or not. Still, he didn't pay much mind to the boy or his correction, choosing rather to continue scanning the room hopefully for any sign of his absent vampire. He barely even noticed Izzy giving his brief, disturbing grin, dismissing it as a particularly unsightly tick which the boy was afflicted with.
It wasn't until Izzy came right out and passed his comment on what he'd seen that Simon turned to look at him again. For a moment he remained completely expressionless, simply studying the boy, before inclining his head ever so slightly, "My my, Israel. I never would have presumed you to possess such an enduring fascination in my personal affairs that on a social evening when I pass you by chance, you see fit to study me in the company of a dear friend of mine, and proceed to weave our friendship into some kind of depraved necrophiliac fantasy."
Simon inclined his head a little further, his expression slipping into a rather convincing image of one really quite perplexed, "Israel? Your preferences are showing."
Folding his arms, Izzy looked at the floor. Oh, no wonder he'd twist it that way. "I and everyone around you, I suppose," he murmured. He wanted to say that it certainly hadn't been Simon he'd been looking at, but that would have been counter-productive and he didn't feel like hearing some kind of jealous diatribe, anyway. Or other comments about his 'preferences'.
Because of the incident not so long ago with Zahavi, one might have thought that Izzy wouldn't have been so patient with insults. And indeed, this whole night had been wearing on his nerves and Simon was not helping. But he simply looked up again, smiled, and replied simply, "If you say so, sir." There really was no need to go any further than that. There was a slight chance he could get anything useful out of Simon, and he resolved to try his hardest. There were lives at stake, though he tried his hardest not to give that impression, since he somehow doubted Simon would agree.
He studied Simon for a moment before looking out at the crowd and saying, "I could find him for you, you know. It's what I'm good at." There was a certain note in his voice that said that he knew this was exactly what Simon wanted and he knew it. "Oh please, we were merely enjoying one another's company." Simon responded loftily, which was technically true. Despite his assorted disquieting feelings towards the still piteously absent John Abott right then, he hadn't actually been doing anything that didn't feel completely harmless and completely natural. There was nothing wrong with indulging in some platonic physical affection, and that was clearly all they'd been doing. Maybe they could even do it again later, If John ever got back to him.
Simon glanced back towards Izzy as the boy started speaking again, his eyes widening in genuine disbelief at the offer being made. For a moment, he said nothing, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something but couldn't quite articulate his own astonishment. Finally, he managed a response, "Dear God, I must project the image of a stupid man indeed to you if you honestly think I would even begin to sanction you going anywhere near him you bloodthirsty little snake! Do you think I possess so little regard for that man that I would so thoughtlessly unleash you upon him when I know what you are! When indeed you have bragged about it to me!" Turning fully to face Izzy, Simon actually managed to look genuinely angry. More than that, he actually, unbelievably, was genuinely angry! The very idea that Izzy would have tried to use Simon's deep, almost startling affection for John as a route to unleashing his own murderous desires upon that dear man who in all the times they'd met had done him no harm, had done no one any harm! It was just too much for him. With one sudden, brisk motion, Simon moved to plant both hands on Izzy's chest and made to shove him backward.
Enjoying one another's company was a pretty common way of describing it, Izzy had noticed. However, he made no comment on it. If all went well, he could use it to his advantage. It felt incredibly ambiguous to be essentially killing someone's friend (or what have you) with the information they gave you, but considering he doubted if he'd ever see Simon again and he wasn't that fond of the man, he wasn't just beginning to wonder if it made any difference. After all, one had to be resourceful to get anywhere.
But obviously, his plan wasn't very clever if Simon's next comment happened. He stood there and endured it, looking quite shocked and trying to maintain the facade that he'd never expected anything like this. He had, but not at this magnitude. People were starting to look up from their own personal dramas and take notice. The bouncers seemed quite interested as well. Izzy, for his part, stood there uselessly until Simon pushed him, whereupon he managed to catch himself before he could have even taken a step back and then grab Simon firmly by the wrists. "When did I say I would murder him?" he replied, a little shaken but trying to make himself sound like the saner party, which was looking like an easier task as the seconds went by, "Indeed, I'm sure if I merely told 'im you wanted him back here, he be here in two seconds. And, I don't mean to offend you, sir," since he seemed to be doing a bang-up job on his own, "But you may want to calm down. I daresay we're attracting an audience."
Simon paused, turned and looked at the crowd and the oncoming bouncers, and gave them a warm smile, "Nothing to see here, don't worry about it, just keep on with your business." He would have given them a reassuring wave as well, but someone was holding on to both his wrists. This done he turned back to Izzy, and (being a man who absolutely did not learn from his mistakes) moved to try and shove him again, despite having both hands more or less incapacitated. It was more about the principal of the thing than anything else.
"You don't need to tell me what you'd do to him! Fortunately for John, I happen to have more than a five second memory and seem to recall you bringing me the body of one of them!" Simon hissed, quietly enough that he wasn't making this information common knowledge in the saying of it, "I remember what you said about them. That they're like cockroaches, that you were just waiting for a reason to kill them!" He leaned in, leaning forward right into Izzy's face and glowering at him, "Well let me tell you, knowing the two of you in the time that I have? Whatever else you might think about him? You've got one dead body to your name and in my knowledge he has not, so you can look elsewhere on your little monster hunt!"
"What are you doing, you silly, silly little man?" He was actually quite bemused by Simon's attempts at attacking him, mainly because, to him and most of the actual fights he'd gotten in, they seemed so half-hearted and didn't match his temper. Since there was really no reason to keep on with it, Izzy let go of his wrists, but kept on guard. No need to have one of the bouncers interested.
At this point, Izzy had lost his patience, but was still a moral roadblock away from breaking the table with the other man's face. He tilted his head to match Simon's and gave a whispered reply, "And that is what I meant. I was desperate at the time, as you well could have seen if you weren't completely blind as I somehow suspect you are. But if you'll permit me to say, sir, the vital point that you've now completely overlooked with John is one factor that is inherent in all vampires. They need blood to survive, sir, and God only knows there's plenty of it in London, walking down the streets and faffing about in ballrooms. I somehow doubt John is immune." It was then that he burst out into a short, breathy laugh which he tried to stifle. "Course, I don't doubt you'd love anything with your face, eh?"
Simon stared on at Izzy for a moment, before folding his arms across his chest. When he replied it was with more calm than he had shown pretty much all evening, "Israel, do not presume that because you have fucked me you are in any kind of informed position upon my character or my life. I paid you. Even when you intruded a most unwelcome event into my life I paid you. I may live by no pretense to my feelings and less airs and graces than the insipid liars who you normally court with, but this evening I was nothing but civil to you, and you in turn slur upon the nature of my friendship with that man? Then attempt to deceive me into betraying him unto death. Sir make no mistake, though I have been unkind to you and dismissive of you? Never have I truly thought ill of you either until this night."
He raised his head, allowing a sneer to creep across his face as he stared up at the other man, "Now however? I see you for what you are. Not just some idealistic fantasist or unfortunate whore forced to seek payment somewhere, no, that I could at least respect as the providence of fortune turned against you. What you are though, Israel, what life you truly aspire to? Is an ignorant pharisee hoping to release in me a Judas. A self righteous bloodthirsty bastard who's drawn his own conclusions on everything and one man judge and jury declare yourself justified and ancient and right in all things. You are an arrogant little child with blood on your hands and I will never let you hurt that man."
If there was one moment where he might have just gone through with any kind of violent instinct on a human, it would have been right now. Indeed, he could feel himself headed towards there, and he could have. To be quite honest he'd never been much for words and he certainly wasn't as loquacious as Simon and probably couldn't have refuted it all if he tried. In fact, quite a lot of it was true, despite the man's high-horse method of delivery, Biblical references, and apparent death wish. In fact, all Izzy could have done was stand there, genuinely insulted for the first time since he'd come to London.
Still, he gave the room another sweeping glance, spotting the bouncers again. There was that. He looked at Simon again, this time giving him a slow up and down, proving to himself that, no matter what Simon said to him, he was still human and hadn't exactly come up to him in a dark alley. In fact, Izzy mused that if he had, he would have been a fresh coat of paint on the paving stones and walls if he was in a particularly bloody mood. He was still human. No matter what he said or who he knew, it wasn't worth getting kicked out of here or potentially having another (technically) innocent man on his conscience. His mind flashed back to the serving girl for a moment, where was she? Was she dead while he got browbeaten uselessly? Izzy clapped his hands together, and them put them behind his back, cracking his knuckles. He looked back at Simon with a small, pleasant smile. "I never did catch your name, what was it?" he asked softly.
Simon let his sneer drop into a slight frown. Whatever Izzy's motive for asking his name might be, now that the question wasn't littered with innuendo? He could at least stand to answer it. "Simon Alexander." He replied shortly, before turning back to scan his eyes across the crowd once again for John.
After a moment, he added, "You know. I've met him... four times now, I believe? Drunk each time, and about as pleasant as I'm sure you've come to expect me to be." He gave a half laugh, "If ever there was a man whom one would be inclined towards evicting from this world without guilt, drunk and short of anyone who would even notice his absence, then I am that man. If John was as you think they all are then my continued existence is a most unforgivable anomaly."
Izzy let his hands drop to his sides, though he still wasn't sure about himself. He listened to Simon speak with the same half-smile on his face, though he really wasn't sure what to think. He came up with what he thought was a rather reasonable explanation; the vampire liked Simon as much as Simon liked him. And in a weird, tragic way, he almost found it sweet. Or at least, that was how he would find it in retrospect. Right now, he was still incredibly irritated at him.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Izzy approached Simon and put his hand on his shoulder somewhat awkwardly. He'd gotten quite tired of the whole thing by now and more or less just wanted to leave, but he smiled grimly and said, "Be careful, Mr. Alexander." That was the only real thing he could say to him, mainly because 'try not to die' seemed like a lost cause. He stepped back and turned away.
Simon rolled his eyes at Izzy's words, responding simply with, "Don't tell me what to do!" Then he gave a little smile. Okay, so maybe the fact that his idea of a hilarious joke was just to push his unpleasant personality to the point of parody had something to do with his immense lack of friends. Still, he thought it was funny, so he returned to scanning the crowd hopelessly for some sight of his absent friend.