Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

see_your_fears (see_your_fears) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-11-09 23:19:00

Who: Wanda, Pietro and Jonathan
What: Celebrating Jonathan’s Bar success!
Where: Wanda and Pietro’s apartment
When: Late october, set after this
Rating: Low, vampire-y stuff :-)
Status: Complete


Wanda had finally managed to console Pietro that a meal without garlic was not a bad thing. They were having chicken in white wine sauce on rice, a simple but filling meal that Wanda had learnt to put together for them. Lots of protein and carbohydrates for her ever active brother to consume. She was just putting the finishing touches to it when the doorbell rang. With her hands full, she called to Pietro to answer it.

It wasn’t that Pietro was addicted or anything he just found that any meal could be made better with the addition of garlic but an allergy was a serious thing so he agreed a meal completely without it would be best. He liked Jonathan a lot after all and didn’t want to hurt the other man.

Making his way to the door he opened it with a smile, “Hello, come in, come in” he insisted noting that their friend looked a little pale. He hoped he was okay.

Jonathan understood Pietro’s pain, he did. Because before all this, he’d loved garlic too. Quite a bit. But now the stuff would get him to run away at a fast clip, considering how utterly repulsive it smelled - dating back to the time of ancient Egypt, of course, where garlic was believed to have incredible healing powers and also ward off evil. Made sense why vampires evolved an aversion to it. But it was just inconvenient sometimes.

He was indeed paler, the olive tone to his skin washed out and chalky but still visible beneath the pallor a bit. Saying ‘guess what, I drink blood now’ was awkward to do online; it seemed like a better ‘in person’ story, as he told Wanda. He just hoped her and Pietro would still want to be friends. So, he showed up ready with a bashful smile and holding a bottle of a fine Chardonnay, something velvety and carrying also a hint of vanilla - it would pair nicely with chicken.

“And hello to you both,” he said, crossing the threshold once Pietro invited him in - without missing a beat, good, so Jonathan didn’t have to stand there shuffling and clearing his throat. “I brought wine,” he added. “White, like Wanda wanted. I hope it goes with dinner, I’m not exactly the best sommelier.”

“I’m in here!” Wanda called from the kitchen. She was just starting to get some wine glasses out, having overheard what Jonathan had said about the wine as the pair walked in. She looked up at Jonathan with a bright smile which quickly faltered when she saw how pale he looked. Had his exams been that hard on him? “Jonathan, are you alright?” she asked with concern, wiping her hands on a tea towel before moving over to him. “Pietro, could you get him a seat?” she asked, frowning as she looked over her friend. She approached him to take the bottle of wine from his hands. “You shouldn’t have come if you felt ill, we would understand,” she told him gently, laying a hand on his arm.

Pietro pulled out the chair for him as he watched his sister, “I was being polite” he directed to Jonathan with an amused smile, “I was not going to mention anything” It was said partly to wind his sister up too since Jonathan, despite being pale looked to be in good enough spirits and showed no other signs of illness.

Oh, geez. Well, it was sweet of Wanda to fret, but Jonathan was quick to reassure her, “No, no, I feel fine - promise,” but took the chair regardless, settling in it. Conversations like these were best sitting down anyway. “I’m...well, you know how things can cross over, from the dreams?”

It was more a rhetorical question, since they both had to know by now. You’d have to be completely unobservant to miss all the chatter about it on the network, and considering that the bleed-through phenomenon when it came to realities was responsible for half the weird problems in the county... “I was turned into a vampire, in my dreams,” he said carefully. Then staked, so he was dead - but that depressing, he wouldn’t mention it now. “And it...happened here too. I went through a transition of sorts. But if you want me to go, that’s fine,” he tacked on there, moving to stand. “It can make people uncomfortable, and that’s an understatement.”

Wanda couldn’t help it when her jaw dropped in surprise. Jonathan was a vampire? The garlic, the comment about night time being better for him and his pale complexion all came together. She cast a wary glance at Pietro. They’d arrived just before vampires had all but invaded the city so they weren’t a new concept, but she’d never met one of them up close. The vampires back then were mindless, without much control, and the vampires from myths and legends were blood-thirsty creatures that people feared. Jonathan was none of those things. He was measured and collected, not much changed from the person they had known before.

“I...I don’t know what to say,” she replied, putting the bottle of wine down on the counter carefully. “Of course we don’t want you to go,” she replied, turning back to Jonathan with a cautious smile. “You are our good friend, no matter what happens, but uh...you understand, we have questions, is that ok?” she told him carefully, clearing her throat when she’d finished. “Are you...alright? Apart from the obvious,” she asked, a tiny smile flitting at the corner of her lips.

Pietro, who had secretly been hoping for something cool to happen in his own dreams and for it to happen here too, was rather more readily accepting of it than Wanda, though he moved closer to her unconsciously. That need to protect his sister instinctual. He was excited but not stupid, there was a cautiousness to it as well.

“Amazing” he said, “I would miss the garlic, so that part is true? Daylight too it sounds like, what about crosses and holy water? We have neither in the house” he added in reassurance.

Questions were fine, Jonathan certainly expected that - at least they didn’t kick him out, which was a huge relief. He sat again, looking a bit sheepish (if he could have blushed he would have, yet was far too undead to accomplish such a feat). “I’m fine. I can still eat food and also drink,” he promised, in case the subject of ‘what to do about dinner’ came up - he found that people always had that one, so may as well reassure that the chicken that smelled divine wouldn’t go to waste.

As for the other inquiries, he’d answer most anything. “I don’t mind questions,” he added. “But let’s see. Yes, the garlic part is true - it smells repulsive to me, and makes me sick. Which is a shame, I used to love the stuff. And crosses and holy water as well - those are more dangerous though.” They would burn him, however, he hadn’t picked up any recently - it was more like a natural aversion, he knew to stay away. The crucifix with rosary beads that had been a dream gift, he didn’t exactly want to get rid of but had to get Zelda to keep them safe at her place - because with two vampires in the house, neither Jonathan or Vlad could touch them.

“I’m not...I wouldn’t hurt either of you. My friends are important to me, even more so now that my time with them is...limited.” Immortality was a weight that felt heavy, the knowledge that he had an eternity whereas those he cared for did not.

Pietro had always been the more laid back of the two of them, so it wasn't really a surprise he seemed more excited than anything. “Well I'm glad you can still eat, at least someone will appreciate my cooking,” Wanda teased Pietro. She knew he did, because let's face it, who didn't appreciate someone else cooking for them and also, Pietro loved food. She looked back at Jonathan, biting her lip a little. “What does it feel like?” she asked hesitantly. She didn’t want to offend him or make him uncomfortable, but sometimes she couldn’t control her curiosity.

“I appreciate you” he protested before returning his attention to their guest and nodding, “How about compulsion? Could you make us want to do something? And can you hear our heartbeats?” he asked, much more practical questions than his sister. But then Wanda’s interests lay more in the psychological area.

They were so different, Wanda and Pietro - twins, yes, but those differences were actually somewhat amusing. And important. The variations in the questions made Jonathan smile a little, a small one. He was self-conscious of the fangs, not usually baring them - they could be intimidating. “I...I suppose I could make you do something, but I wouldn’t ever,” he chuckled. He wasn’t familiar with compulsion, as a talent, the way other vampires in the community seemed to possess it - instead, he had sort of a hypnotism or mind control ability that he didn’t want to get very accustomed to using.

He paused, resisting the urge to touch one fang with the tip of his tongue - even talking about heartbeats tended to do that, to get him thinking about the hot and maddening taste of blood. But of course he could control himself. “Yes, I can hear your heartbeats...”

And then he left it at that. No one really appreciated knowing that their heartbeats sounded lovely, so he’d just keep it to himself. “It feels...” Jonathan attempted to think of a good way to answer Wanda’s question. “Bittersweet. Knowing that I’ll outlive my loved ones, and wanting them to have fulfilling lives - that’s all I can hope for them. It’s also difficult, coming to terms with not being human.” An understatement, but it was merely a task to put the feeling of attempting to stay afloat in a sea of churning red into words.

Knowing Jonathan could hear their heartbeats was a little unsettling to her somehow. It seemed quite an intimate thing to know. She knew rationally that he wouldn’t hurt them but she’d seen the vampires from the Hellmouth all those months ago and couldn’t help wonder if there was some of that wild instinct hidden far beneath the surface, buried beneath Jonathan’s restraint.

Clearing her throat, Wanda passed the wine bottle over to Pietro. “Can you pour the drinks, please?” she asked, before turning back to the dinner waiting for her to serve up. There were so many questions to ask, but she didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. “What about...turning? What was that like? How did it feel?” Wanda asked cautiously, she lifted the lid from the pots on the stove and stirred it. Deciding it was ready to be served, she put the lid back on and grabbed a towel to retrieve the plates from where she’d left them warming in the oven. Laying them out, she dished up while they continued to talk.

Pietro however loved that he could hear their heartbeats and wanted to know if his and Wanda’s were identical or if one was faster or slower than the other. But he could see both his sister and friend were uncomfortable so he left it alone. For now. He’d never once thought Jonathan would use the compulsion on them he was just remembering everything he knew about vampire mythology and wanted to know how much was true.

“Yeah, that part sucks” Pietro agreed, not even wanting to imagine outliving Wanda, that would hurt too much. He moved to pour the wine when Wanda asked him, “Whose blood do you drink?” he added onto his sister’s question about turning.

“Well, the turning part was complicated. I woke up with most of the aspects of vampirism in place, but to finish the transition I had to die and come back again. My partner had to give me the last bite. It was stressful for the both of us.” Jonathan’s fingers clasped and unclasped; it kept him busy so he didn’t nervously drum on anything - he appreciated the curiosity though, and the fact that he had friends who wouldn’t turn their backs on him despite how apprehensive his change perhaps made them feel.

Which was why he didn’t quite want to go into details of the blood he drank. He was a killer (perhaps a vigilante killer, only going after those who were scummy but still a killer all the same), and Wanda was right to be wondering about the beast within - because it was very much there, that slumbering dragon, having found a new home and so pleased with its vessel whenever he drained a victim of their blood completely. Hunt, feed, kill, dominate, this was the mantra that the animal lived by.

“I would never drink the blood of my friends. Or family,” was all he said, and if Pietro wanted more details later, then Jonathan would go into it more when they were alone - he seemed more pragmatic than Wanda; she was very soft-hearted (not that this was a bad thing, not at all). But he just couldn’t talk about it now. “Do you need any help with anything?” he asked, changing the subject a little.

From the way Jonathan was playing with his hands, she could tell that her questioning was making him anxious. Wanda didn’t want to make him feel unwelcome or uncomfortable in their home, so she shook her head and focused on being better at making him at home. “I’m fine serving up, but I thought we could sit at the dining room table,” she gestured to the table and chairs behind him which was already laid out with place settings. “You can help by taking your wine and choosing a place to sit,” she smiled kindly at him, looking him in the eye to make sure he knew that she wasn’t terribly afraid of or perturbed by him, just curious. “Why don’t we talk about something else,” she suggested, busying herself with serving up the meal. “Tell us about your exams,” she asked with a bright smile.

Pietro was incredibly curious now, the answer had been intriguing and while Jonathan may mean he obtained blood from hospitals or some such he got the feeling the true answer was much more interesting. But like his sister he noticed the signs of anxiety and moved on from that questioning. Offering Jonathan a smile he gestured to him to chose a seat. “Yes, how did they go?” he asked, “Were they as bad as you expected?”

“Well, I suppose I can do that,” Jonathan flashed a charming, old-world smile and then found a seat like Wanda suggested - the food did smell good, even if it wouldn’t really fill him up. It was just superfluous, no nutrients or anything that would satisfy the craving that was always simmering there - especially for him, a younger vampire without the control that Vlad possessed from dreaming of centuries of experience. “Oh, they were...they were pretty bad,” he chuckled.

Most lawyers would rather switch careers than take the bar exam again - and after experiencing the horror, he had to agree. “Essentially anyone can be a proctor,” he explained, sipping from the wine glass. “So mine was a nun. It was, uh, strange, and then on the last day of the exam my laptop froze so I had to restart and it was essentially the most terrifying moment of my life because I thought I’d lost everything.” But he’d gotten through it and passed and now he was licensed - so all’s well that ends well, right?

“All of this looks great, by the way. Thank you for having me over.”

“You’re welcome, it’s nice to have friends over and now we’re settled in we can do that more,” Wanda smiled as she brought over the meal and set Pietro and Jonathan’s plates down in front of them. “Your exam sounds like a nightmare,” she gave a little laugh, shaking her head as she went to retrieve her own dish and settle down at the table. Raising her glass, she looked at them both and smiled. “Congratulations on your exams,” she grinned, moving to clink her glass with theirs and take a little sip. Setting her glass back down on the table, she picked up her fork and started to eat. “So what now? Will you set your own practice up? Or work with someone else?”

Pietro couldn’t imagine sitting and taking such a hard exam, he was dreading his own enough. Sitting still for long periods of time was getting harder for him and the ones Jonathan had taken sounded much longer than any of the ones he had or would ever take. “Yes congratulations” he said as they clinked glasses, “Do you wish to be your own boss?” he added to his sister’s questions.

Clink went the glasses, a pleasant sound, and Jonathan picked up his own fork and knife to cut into the chicken. “Well, I’m doing some arbitration work on the side which is mediation,” he said, and you didn’t really need to belong to a particular firm to do that - it was also something that would-be attorneys in law school did as well, for the experience and also for the money. Good work that was relevant to their interests.

“But my main case is a lawsuit involving an energy conglomerate overseas,” he went on. “Zelda’s on the network, you may have seen her. I’m representing her in court, as we fight to put the company back in her hands. After that, I’ll probably end up working for her anyway. I’d like to stay on.” She was one of his best friends, and he really couldn’t imagine working anywhere else besides with her, on board at her company. “Of course, if either of you need an international lawyer, naturally I’m available.” He said it with a smile, but he meant it too.

“Well thank you for the offer, but there shouldn’t be anything that comes back at us from overseas, isn’t that right Pietro?” Wanda slanted a teasing look over at her brother, because of the two of them, it would be more than likely him that got into trouble. “It sounds like you are going to be very successful and if I can do anything to help, even if it is just inviting you over for dinner, then let me know,” she offered before taking a sip of her wine, because that’s what friends did.

“Nothing I can think of but it is always good to have a friend in the know” he grinned after swallowing his food. Pietro had a big appetite and enjoyed his food though he was well mannered in front of guests. “As my sister said if we can ever do anything for you then let us know” he told Jonathan with a nod, “But you are already doing well my friend I am glad of that”

“Thank you, thank you both. The offer’s extended too, even just for dinner in return if you’d like to get out of cooking for one night. I’m not so terrible at it. Vlad’s pretty good too.” For vampires, no, they didn’t completely suck - pun intended - at preparing human meals.

It was nice to have the camaraderie too, the chance to be with friends - and Jonathan truly did cherish that, since time passed quickly and before he knew it, those he loved would be gone. Thinking of that was heavy, felt like anvils in his stomach, but he just pushed it aside. No point to that, not right now. He’d just enjoy - that was why he was here.