You and I Collide [reserved]

[Deleted]

[reserved for Hope only please]

He watched, waited. Darkness embraced him like a lover, the peaceful silence was undisturbed. Tricky shade, even scent couldn't give him away, not many willingly follow the trail of decay to find its source. The farm house was cozy, warm, full of happiness and love; hyper senses pieced together the picture of mother and daughter going through night-time rituals. The pair were low on the priority list of this nightmare, but they drew a second watcher like a moth to a flame. Vampire teeth suddenly exposed in a mad grin; he waited, he watched.

Three or four nights a week, the beautiful boy paced the fences in this spot, but rarely did he have the courage to knock. Love was a powerful thing, but the unrequited part was a mother. Being in her presence was torture; staying away from her was worse.

[Deleted]

This was the happy medium. Pierre du Ponteloc worshiped her shadow on the window shades, the musical murmur that was her voice, even the sound of her bare feet on the floor.To think his father had used her and tossed her away, like his own little mother, sickened him. Oh Kitami, Kitami, in moments of solitude he whispers her name over and over. Perey's hungry eyes and attention are wholly fixed elsewhere when he is ripped from his feet and dragged into the woods. A yelp is cut off by a skeletal hand and teeth shredding his neck. Jericho would have fought harder; Pere barely struggled. Death was easy, living was hard. He slipped into unconsciousness, much like sweet Isonette slipped into sleep, peaceful.

Essence of power, eternal life, heat flows through the He watched, waited. Muscles reappear on the bones, color comes back to the skin, lifeless strands of hair grow bright and curl down on bared shoulders.

[Deleted]

A brief memory flashes (a beautiful form, eyes of honey, she loves him and he is hers completely, his spider fingers on a very pregnant stomach, a woman-child that looks like him, a man-child that looked like her, the wolves). Snarling, the parasite flings the body halfway into the front yard of the farm house. He rubs the blood across his cheeks, neck, chest and smiles at a job well done. One down. Like a row of dominoes, they would all follow. He would take the women, the children, then finally the twins themselves. Maybe then he would find his peace, maybe then he could go back to who he was before, maybe he would be able to sleep. The wolves, they haunted him, they would suffer. One was down, six to go. Higher than any drug could take him, Micah runs through the woods and doesn't realize his victim is still alive.

Julien stands on the top branch of a tall tree, staring blindly at the trees, lost in his thoughts. These emotions, for so long he'd denied their existence, it made him a better monster so he'd never learned to be a man. Now that he had fallen, he fell hard.

[Deleted]

Regret snowballed downhill, picking up everything in its path. Veranda, Cori, Mum, Sophia, Da. Even a violent kill couldn't shake this brooding depression; he found himself feeling pity for the rubes, for the family's he left ruined in the wake. What was wrong with him? What would Cor say? What would Ver think? Oh he missed her, missed their talks. Why had everything changed so drastically? The worst part was knowing he had done this all to himself. This was the bed he had made. Everything he touched was tainted. He was toxic.

The bloody vision flew by so fast that Jule almost missed it, almost attributed it to tricks of the mind and wishful thinking, but he was too well trained for that. His voice was that of a pitiful child, "Da? Daddy?" Like a cat, he lands gracefully from the two hundred foot drop and takes off. "Da! Please! Da, stop!" He thinks not about how his father managed to make it here or how he'd avoided notice, all that matters is catching him and it seems impossible. Are those? No, couldn't be tears running down his cheeks,

[Deleted]

Boogeymen didn't cry. "Please Da, please stop! Wait!"

And here they are in this moment of time. Lachesis du Ponteloc lies oblivious to the world, sleeping naked in the arms of his lover while his eldest boy lies unconscious and drained in Kitami's front yard. Julien chasing after, but feeling defeated and embarrassed, another great emotion. Micah had always been a creature of speed, so when he found her alone in the woods they had a few minutes to talk before his son bursted in on the scene. She was familiar, he seemed to magically appear before her eyes when he stopped running. Beautiful, mad, and tattered, the blood, all six and a half feet of badass vampire. "I know you, I know I know you. You're not her, but you are something. Who do you belong to changeling? No, I know that. I don't want to know that. He'll be here soon, annoying as ever I imagine. Will you help me kill the wolves, baby thing? It'll be okay when the wolves are dead. So fresh, you still have human all over you, thsts good, hold onto it. Shite here he is, got a smoke on you, pretty girl? Going to bloody well need one."

-fin. This is how my phone wanted to post it, but here you are love. enjoy.

[Veranda Kingsford]

The night was young, cool, and full of it’s subtle life. Many creatures of the night prowling, breathing, hunting, moving. Veranda took them all in, drinking in the night life like she would the blood of a person. No need to hunt though, she already had her fill, snagging a beggar from the edge of the city. She tried to peer into him, see his fear, bring it to life like Coriander and Julien could do, but no luck. Nothing. The only thing she saw as she stared deeply were the wide, watery blue eyes of the man she was about to kill. Perhaps next time.

Now though, now she ran through the forest. She was enjoying this time alone, and had been enjoying it since she left Jordan’s place. In fact, she had yet to return home for a few days, having hidden away in caves, deep in the shadow. She liked this primal, savage feeling of surviving in the woods, listening to the night creatures, tasting the clean air. It was better than the stale air that the abandoned house she called home with her male companions had to offer. The best part? She had been sleeping like a baby the last few nights. No more insomnia to keep her up. For now. She also discovered that, though her hunger gnawed at her, she could go a couple of days without feeding. She didn’t dare press the time further though, hence the reason she took a man from the city. But it was nice to know that she could focus on more than her thirst for human blood. She could feel again. That was good.

She leaped from tree limb to tree limb, soaring through the air, black hair dancing wildly behind her. The stars above were gorgeous. Utterly gorgeous. She smiled, sharp fangs glittering in the moonlight.

Then it hit her.

The scent of blood.

She blinked, landing on the next tree limb, then froze. Blood? Something made a kill tonight. She waited to hear movement, hear a sound. For a long time there was just silence. Eerie silence actually, considering moments ago there were the sounds of life around her. Then she heard a tiny, soft, wail. She tilted her head and dropped to the ground below, landing with the grace of a cat. She straightened, head cocked. Again the wail. Follow by a yipping sound of sorts. Confusions crossed her features. What is that? She followed the scent of blood, walking silently, ready to draw a blade if necessary. She paused, seeing a boulder buried halfway into the earth. Moss grew over the giant stone, and it provided a lovely canopy for the dip inside. Veranda rounded the stone, the smell growing stronger. She paused as she heard a whine. Movement…a sucking sound…then the whine again. Veranda stepped forward and brushed the hanging moss aside, and stared wide-eyed at the scene before her.

A wolf, lying dead on her side. Behind her was a massive pool of blood, and scattered around her the deformed bodies of wolf pups, bloodied from the birthing. Except none of them survived. And the mother wolf had been dead for at least a day. Directly behind the wolf, under her tail, a little black form moved. Veranda narrowed her eyes and moved forward, brushing the tail aside, and gasped slightly. It was a wolf pup, alive, and completely free of malformation. It was slightly bigger than it’s brother and sisters, but the most striking thing about it was how black its fur was. Blood and gore was tangled in its fur. Veranda watched as the pup, blind and deaf in its youth, sucked eagerly at the bloodied hole it was torn from. The entire back end of the mother wolf was a gash, a total mess. Like something ripped her apart as it was born. Veranda could feel a hot, dark aura around the black pup. She reached out and grasped the tiny, squirming body. It growled, nipping at her. It’s breath was very hot, and stank of sulfur. Veranda raised an eyebrow and turned, leaving the dead wolf and her equally dead pups behind. She took this wolf pup to a nearby stream and washed away the blood in its fur, despite its protests. She saw that some of the blood red color in its fur was natural high lights. How unusual. With this task done she tucked the wet pup into her coat, were it squirmed some more. She glanced back to where the reek of blood was. It had been trying to suckle its mother’s blood…

She pulled a knife, flicked it above, and seconds later a bat fell, thumping against the ground. She took the dying creature and offered its bloody wound to the pup, who nursed greedily.

“So you survive on the blood of others. So do I.” Veranda said softly, smiling at the wrinkled face of the newborn pup. The pup sucked the bat dry, the squirmed some more before succumbing in comfort to sleep. Veranda smiled, but the smile was cut short as a figure appeared before her, practically materializing. She heard him first, but his speed was so quick that she could only react once he stopped before her. Veranda froze, a half mad through that it was a displeased Coriander come to take her home. Or to kill her. But no, this man, this vampire, was no one she knew. Or did she? He looked so familiar.

His babbling was quick, almost dizzying as she tried to comprehend the situation, this creature before her, and his meaning all at once. Another sound, and Julien burst onto the two. Then it hit her, looking from one face to another. Good God it was Julien’s father! How did he ever get here? She slipped her hand into her pocket, feeling the heat of the wolf pup there. Kill the wolves? What nonsense was this?

“Human? Why should I hold on to that? It makes me pathetically weak.” She said in reply to Micah. No bitterness, no hate in her voice. A simply inquiry. Her human self had been weak, and been dying really. She only realized it after she became a vampire. As a human she had been slowly slipping into a dark hell, an oblivion. Now, perhaps, she could bend that hell to her will. Why hold on?

[Kitami Aklia]

“Another story Mama! Please!” Isonette begged, sitting before the fireplace at her mother’s feet, who sat comfortably in a chair. Kitami smiled at her pup, petting the dark red hair that was not quite like her own. Izzy pouted, looking up to Kitami. Yellow eyes shining brightly in the firelight, begging her mother silently.

“Izzy, I already told you three for the night.” Kitami said softly, resting her head against a delicate hand. Izzy pouted more.

“It is not enough Mama! How can I sleep now? You must tell me another!” She said. Kitami laughed and stood, making her daughter stand as well.

“I must do no such thing, dearheart. You, however, must go to sleep.” She said, kneeling to pick up the beautifully crafted wooden sword Izzy had been attached to. A gift from her older brother. The polishing on the play sword seemed scuffed in a few places already though, from almost constant use ever since it was bestowed to the girl. Kitami figured the pup would play with it a while then disregard it for fine clothes and other delights, but Izzy kept a firm grip on it. Enough to have Kitami consider finding a person to teach Izzy the proper use of a sword. Kitami herself only taught Izzy some basic stances, since that was as far as her knowledge went. The mother wolf had only a small knowledge of the weapon. Back when she had been with her old pack, the one before Lachesis and his foolery, she had specialized in a spear. That weapon required a different form.

Perhaps that handsome fellow Roland? He was a knight, and he must have a better knowledge of swords than Kit did. He could train Izzy how to use the sword as well as how to be a knight. It seemed like a good idea. Of course that brought on a whole new mountain of problems to be addressed, but Kitami decided not to worry about said problems until it was confirmed that this knight infatuation her pup had wasn’t just a little phase. After all-

A yelp.

Kitami paused, head slightly cocked. Izzy herself also paused, yellow eyes staring at Kitami intently. Both listened. Both heard nothing. Izzy blinked, ready to dismiss it, but the fact that her Mama continued to wait, to listen, made the child uneasy. Kitami closed her eyes. The yelp wasn’t that of those damned wild dogs, which had as of late stopped coming around. She scented the air. Firewood, smoke, the dinner they had earlier, yesterday’s meals, the light scent of the summer foliage…blood.

A thump outside, on the front lawn.

“Izzy, stay.” Kitami commanded, turning to the door. She paused, listening for more sounds, but nothing. She pulled open the door, and the light of the cottage fell on the grass and nothing more. But just outside the range of light Kitami could see a crumpled form. But what made her heart sink was the blood…and the scent that she knew.

“Pere?” Izzy said, recognizing the scent. Kitami stepped outside, pausing. Waiting. No attacks. Whatever did this damage had left it seemed. She rushed forward and dropped to her knees before Pierre, pulling the boy to his back and staring at the bloodied wound on his neck. “Mama?” Izzy called, stepping up to the doorway.

“Inside now Isonette. Stay inside!” Kitami snapped, the child backing quickly deeper into the cottage, her eyes wide and frightened. Kitami looked around, saw nothing. She bent to Pere, inhaling. No scent by the attacker? No…there was something there. Kitami stored the scent away in her mind as neatly as she did the laundry, and she gathered the boy into her arms and pulled him into the house. Izzy gave a shriek in horror, seeing the state of her brother.

“Pierre! Mon frère!!” Izzy cried, tears welling.

“Isonette, get me the basin. The one I used to wash you in as a little baby. And many towels. Go.” Kitami said, quickly distracting the child so she didn’t panic. As Izzy ran off to gather the items, Kitami ripped off her apron and pressed it to the wound, gently patting Pere’s cheeks, trying to revive him, trying to wake him.

[Deleted]

Life flashed behind his eyes, it seemed ages had passed since Micah had run by, there would be no catching him. Da was a phantom. (training in the basement, sophie always the favorite, crying, mum scratching her nails against my scalp, never good enough, mum and da kissing, so happy, da screaming, the wolves, mum crying, veranda) Fuck, Veranda! He could smell her and him, his Da was there! Bursting onto the scene he slides his way in between them. His father looked good, better than he had in ages, but the insanity was still flashing in his eyes, lighting through a storm cloud. "Da. Don't run. Its Julien, do you remember?"

"You see how it is." Spider fingers, spindle hands dance through the curls shaking loose a few leaves and twigs, the blonde locks fall gorgeously back into place. Full of stolen supernatural blood, he was unearthly. Sharp instinct flashes and he dances away from the girl, comically putting his hands up as if asking for pardon. With his years on the boy, temporary high and speed, the crazy boy had the upper hand. Julien knew it and put himself in the middle. "I get the point, no touching. I know you don't have a fag, bleeding Debbie-Downer s'all you ever were." Lighting flashing in his eyes, excitement now. Jules steps back, nestling his body into hers without much notice. Screaming his thoughts to her and praying she can listen, dangerous, he's dangerous Ver, be ready to run, I'll do what I can, you run Guilty, he felt so damned guilty, Da had been so competent, someone he hated and admired, Julien had turned him into this. "Have you changed your mind, then? Will you help now? I got one tonight, we can pick them off together, me boy, and go for a drink after. What do you say? Bring the changeling, we can use her for bait." Exasperated, Jules shakes his head. The similarities are prominent now: furrowed brows, smirking mouths, spider fingers tapping on hipbones. "Da this is Ver, my friend, remember? Snap out of it already." The vampire sighs dramatically and places his hand out to be shook by the girl. "See what happens when you play with your food. There, can we get back to the matter at hand?" Oh, this was fun.

Meanwhile...

[Deleted]

Pierre sat with his mere and grandmere, the one who died years before his birth, drinking tea on a sunny beach. Khaska was touching his hair, telling him how proud she was off him, off what kind of man he'd become. Grandmere Isonette was lovely, like aunt Clotho withan inner light that radiated everything good and lovely. He didn't want to leave them, it was beautiful here, uncomplicated. They said he had to go though, they'd be here when he returned. He tried to argue, but grandmere said Papa would need him, his brother and sister too. And Kitami, his mere added with a smile. They hugged him tight, then pulled back. Both looked troubled, they apologized but had something to show him, so he'd know the truth. Sweet Jean Pierre, sweet boy, we love you, we are sorry.

He awoke screaming, only his throat had been completely ravaged so it sounded like a wet bark. Mon Dieu, he tried to say as the tears rolled from him, mon dieu non, say it wasn't true. An angel tried to staunch his bleeding, but even her most holy face couldn't erase the horror he beheld. His hand clutches hers, eyes screwed shut, the pain faded behind the knowledge. Death was easier, this... how could he possibly know where to start with this?

[Veranda Kingsford]

Julien’s back faced her. He stood between Veranda and Micah. Veranda eyed Julien’s back, eying the T-shape it had, the tall, thin, yet strong back. She felt a twinge of annoyance though. His back…it was a position she was quite familiar with. His damned back.

It seemed like an alarm was going off in her head, something nearly screaming at her.

Dangerous.

Run.

Run? She was expected to run, expected to face Julien’s back. Veranda frowned, and sent a message of her own, a powerful wave herself, and it was simple, though it contained no words. A negation, pure and true. No. No, she would not run. And no, she would not stand and watch his back. He nestled into her, his back pressing against her. Better, but no. She slid around, till she was standing next to him. Standing beside Julien. This was better. This was what she’d rather have. The alarm still pulsed in her mind, and under it was a thick layer of guilt. Julien felt guilt looking at this beautifully insane creature before them. Not pity, but guilt. Well, he did break Micah’s mind didn’t he? But why did he feel such guilt? Veranda could appreciate the destruction. But perhaps he only felt guilty because they were father and son. Veranda couldn’t relate. If she ever saw her father, breaking his mind was only one thing she’d do to him. So that left Julien the option of restoring his father. But how? Veranda thought, and came up with an idea. Would it work? It could work or put the insane vampire into a frenzy. Perhaps it’d be best to apply it when he calmed from his feeding high.

She eyed the hand extended to her, but she didn’t take it. She simply gazed at the man, her face perfectly blank, a complete lack of expression Cori would probably appreciate.

“So you’re the man who spawned my Julien.” She said softly, more to herself than the two males. She didn’t expect either to listen or respond. Not many listened to her these days. Would the death of those wolves fix him? Fix his mind? She could only wonder. She had many questions she wanted to ask this creature, but she kept them to herself. She doubted he’d speak to her. He was more focused on his son.

[Kitami Aklia]

The basin was brought, quickly filled with water, and Kitami took a towel, pressing it tightly against the wound. Izzy stood by, trying her hardest to sob as quietly as possible. Kitami smiled as Pere seemed to wake a bit, seemed to regain himself. But he was slipping back.

“No!” Kitami barked. “No! Jean Pierre you will stay with me! You will stay!” She turned, tossing the bloodied towel into the basin and pressing a new one to his wound. She looked to Izzy.

“Isonette, go into my room, into my chest I always told you to stay out of. There are three red vials. Bring them now!” She commanded. Izzy turned and ran without one word, slamming open the bedroom door, rushing to the chest. She threw open the lid, the scent of medicines assaulting her sensitive nose. She pushed some herbs and bottles around, searching. Where? Where!? She gasped, finding the three vials, the glass colorful and bright. She pulled them out and turned, hurrying back to her Mama. Izzy dropped to her knees beside Kitami, who plucked one vial, broke the wax seal, and poured some of its liquid contents on the wound. It was a healing potion, bought from a new shop that had opened recently. It would be better to drink, but Kitami needed Pere awake first. It would heal his wound when applied, but slowly.

“Pierre you wake up now. Wake!” Kitami said, her voice loud and stern. She gave his pale cheek a harder slap, demanding his attention, his focus. Whatever he suffered he must stay with her if he was to live. And live he would damn it!

[Deleted]

Damnit Veranda, Jules tried to stare it into her as she stepped next to him. What part of dangerous didn't she understand? Crazy two hundred and fifty three year old vampire, no good. His father could snap her in half and lap at her marrow before Julien had time to react. Personal experience proved that, his uncle Rail, who was a mere memory of fox ears and tail had told him a story once about Da killing a giant saber toothed cat shapeshifter with one arm ripped off, how do you fight that? "It was me Da, forget about the wolves already, it was me. I'm sorry." The vampire lashed out, striking a tree with enough force to snap the trunk and send it crashing to the ground. His face was dead serious, "If you don't want to help, that's all you had to say. Chock full of help, you are. That's all fine and good, I'll do it myself, you'll thank me one day, all of you, the whole bloody lot. Chased them out of Merovech, I did, scatted like rats. Thought they could sneak off in the night, but I was watching, I was waiting. Now's the time to pick them off: the boys first, then the women and little girl, save the twins for last. I'll take all he took from me and more, slimey French bastard." Spitting on the ground, Micah began to pace back and forth.

Julien had jumped infront of Veranda when the tree went crashing down. A conversation with his mother flashed through his mind, If he doesn't snap out of it soon, someone will put him down. He's too powerful to be so out of control. I just don't understand why this happened... It wasn't his Da he feared, karma was the beast under the bed; he had taken his mother's lover so the universe was bound to take his for bounty. While his son had his panic attack, the vampire eyed the girl as she spoke. Confusion flashed in the gray face, "Spawn? Julien? I... I don't..." He stares down the familiar one, trying to recall exactly where he knows him from. "No.. I never... this one, he's always trying to ruin everything, but I think you got me mixed up, little changeling, never made myself a pretty pet like you, didn't have it in me. You'll help won't you? The wolves, they're here, we can kill them all. The blood alone is worth the effort and the twins won't stop until I finish it, once and for all. Its lonely work on my own, it is."

-

Perey cried, shuddered, screamed in silence; the physical was nothing compared to the emotional trauma. Tante Clotho had stroked his head, held him in her lap, sang such lovely songs, slipped gold pieces into his pockets when he wasn't paying attention. Tante Clotho had killed every member of his family who'd ever stood I'm her path. Ma mere, ma mere. His lips formed the words but no sound escaped. Oncle Tak as well, Oncle Tak who was so strong and loved her, she'd slipped the knife into his heart while he slept beside her. His eyes had snapped open and he'd tried to ask her why. Grandmere Isonette pushed from a balcony, the grandpere he'd never met: assassinated. Too much, it was too much. Why couldn't he have died? It would be so easy to just slip back...

L'horreur. Mon Dieu. Ma mere. Blue from lack of blood, lips moving silent. Kitami's slap lifted his lids and the ocean colored eyes with the ring of gold stared up at her so tortured. Bel ange, he tried to tell her, je t'aime, je t'aime. Dites mon pere, he tried to say, ne pas lui faire confiance. Tell pere not to trust her. L'horreur, Mon Dieu, Bel ange, l'horreur. C'est trop, arrête ca.

[Veranda Kingsford]

Veranda listened to Julien plead, hearing something in his voice that she hadn’t heard in years. Need. He was a needy child wanting his father back. She watched the vampire lash out at a tree, watching the bark and wood explode under his impact. There was a moment of hesitation before the tree came down, snapping branches and scaring off birds and bats as it fell. Julien stepped in front of her again as the tree fell, and Veranda sighed. The crazy bastard before the two began pacing, spitting out curses, going on about the death of the wolves. She reached into her pocket, gently caressing the little pup she found. It squirmed, then fell still.

She peeked around Julien’s body, silently half cursing the man for being so fucking tall. She could even watch over his shoulder. She stepped out from behind a bit, enough to see the confusion cross Micah’s features. He spoke, and his worse struck her as funny somehow. She bit back the laughter, but couldn’t help the smile.

“Do you not remember? Julien in your son.” She said, touching Julien’s shoulder. “You’re not alone. You don’t have to be. You have a son right here. And a daughter and lover out there somewhere too.” She said, not sure if the creature would listen or respond. She was actually surprised she was receiving as much attention as she was now. Didn’t have it in him? He managed to yield twins with his seed! Didn’t have it in him! Good God she wanted to giggle. Why did it seem so funny?

“Of course you had it in you. Look at what you made here.” She said, touching Julien’s chest. “I must say, I’m quite appreciative of him too.” She added, pulling back from Julien slightly. This creature was insane, dangerously insane, but something about him seemed delightful too.

[Kitami Aklia]

Kitami felt a twinge of panic at the despair and horror in Pere’s eyes. What on earth was he going through? What did he suffer? Did this wound ail him so? It all troubled her, but now wasn’t the time to muse over such things. He was hurt, dying, and something in him didn’t want to fight. Kitami wasn’t going to let Izzy watch her brother die here though. Not here damnit. Not now.

She kept the towel pressed to the wound, but she wouldn’t be able to open his mouth and pour the healing potion at the same time. Izzy was too shocked to do much. Kitami lifted the vial, pouring some of the potion into her mouth. It gave her a tingling sensation on her tongue, and it was bitter. She then set the vial down, took hold of Pere’s cheeks tightly to open him lips somewhat, and bent, pressing her lips against his and pushing the liquid into his mouth. She pulled back, placing her fingers over his lips so he didn’t spit it out.

“Come on Pere. You can’t leave Izzy behind. She loves you too much.” She said. She heard a slopping sound, and she turned, startled to see Izzy busying herself by rinsing out the previously used towel, trying to free it of as much blood as possible. Kitami smiled, proud that her pup’s mind didn’t completely lock up in panic. She removed the towel from Pere’s neck, seeing the blood slowed, but not enough to her liking. She poured more potion onto the wound itself and pressed down hard, her hands turning white from the effort. She’d have to stitch this.

“Izzy, get me my kit.” She said. Izzy wrung out the towel she was cleaning and hurried off to grab the kit, nearly running into the doorway from her blurry, tear filled eyes.