Aftermath of a scene
Jul. 9th, 2010 11:06 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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writing_shadows"Who was that?" Paint asked, his voice a low and irritated grumble.
Ruthie didn't take his anger that seriously. She could smell the lust and desire off him from here. Maybe he did love her, absolutely and totally, but in the instant that Charlie's attention had fixed on him, as bright as the sun, he had wanted her. Ruth suspected that Charlie had that effect on a lot of people.
"A customer," she said, absent mindedly, and pulled her shawl around her shoulders more tightly. "She frightened Madeleine as well."
Paint frowned.
"Been a lot of that lately," he muttered darkly. "People coming in here who don't seem to know the right way to behave."
Ruth shrugged.
"They are all customers," she said, and began to pad away. "Could you close up the shop, please. I sent Madeleine home for the evening."
Paint looked irritable.
"Couldn't she have done that before she left?" he asked. He resented doing those kind of tasks. He'd never worked a til, or, actually, worked a job before he'd been sent to look after Ruth, by the ever charming Father Gabriel. He'd started his career as a juvenile delinquent, and progressed to 'bad boy yardie', before Father Gabriel had picked him out of the smoke at a gathering and decided that he would be his adopted daughter's new protector.
Ruth raised an eyebrow at him.
"I sent her home. Now, make it so,"
He glared, but headed to the shop.
Ruth didn't move for a while, but stood in the chilly room, filled with glass.
Charlie had unsettled her. She'd brought a dozen terrifying emotions which were meant to be dead and buried swirling to the surface. Ruth didn't know what those emotions were yet. She just knew she was feeling something.
Someone had once told her that vampires couldn't feel true emotions, only faded shadows of the emotions they had felt in life. If that was the case, it was surely a blessing rather than a curse. If this ocean of nameless sensation was just an echo of an emotion, she didn't want to feel again.
Paint reappeared in the door.
“What did she mean about ‘at least he doesn’t look like him’?” he asked. “Or that shit about ‘well, he’s got his temper’. Who was she talking about?”
Ruth shrugged.
“Just someone who died a long time ago.”
For the first time in years, that felt like a lie.
Ruthie didn't take his anger that seriously. She could smell the lust and desire off him from here. Maybe he did love her, absolutely and totally, but in the instant that Charlie's attention had fixed on him, as bright as the sun, he had wanted her. Ruth suspected that Charlie had that effect on a lot of people.
"A customer," she said, absent mindedly, and pulled her shawl around her shoulders more tightly. "She frightened Madeleine as well."
Paint frowned.
"Been a lot of that lately," he muttered darkly. "People coming in here who don't seem to know the right way to behave."
Ruth shrugged.
"They are all customers," she said, and began to pad away. "Could you close up the shop, please. I sent Madeleine home for the evening."
Paint looked irritable.
"Couldn't she have done that before she left?" he asked. He resented doing those kind of tasks. He'd never worked a til, or, actually, worked a job before he'd been sent to look after Ruth, by the ever charming Father Gabriel. He'd started his career as a juvenile delinquent, and progressed to 'bad boy yardie', before Father Gabriel had picked him out of the smoke at a gathering and decided that he would be his adopted daughter's new protector.
Ruth raised an eyebrow at him.
"I sent her home. Now, make it so,"
He glared, but headed to the shop.
Ruth didn't move for a while, but stood in the chilly room, filled with glass.
Charlie had unsettled her. She'd brought a dozen terrifying emotions which were meant to be dead and buried swirling to the surface. Ruth didn't know what those emotions were yet. She just knew she was feeling something.
Someone had once told her that vampires couldn't feel true emotions, only faded shadows of the emotions they had felt in life. If that was the case, it was surely a blessing rather than a curse. If this ocean of nameless sensation was just an echo of an emotion, she didn't want to feel again.
Paint reappeared in the door.
“What did she mean about ‘at least he doesn’t look like him’?” he asked. “Or that shit about ‘well, he’s got his temper’. Who was she talking about?”
Ruth shrugged.
“Just someone who died a long time ago.”
For the first time in years, that felt like a lie.
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no subject
Date: 2010-07-09 12:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-09 01:15 pm (UTC)If you mean 'created three screaming rows, multiple near frenzies, mutual death threats, one tearful vampire wailing 'I wish every night that I'd never Embraced you', and one aggro vampire getting as far as pinning his Sire to the ground to punch her into oblivion before managing to calm down', then it totally worked!
Hrm. I suppose that the line 'I wish I'd never Embraced you' is dramatic progress from 'I wish I'd never killed him'.
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Date: 2010-07-09 01:29 pm (UTC)Remember I mentioned about how much Charlie is hurting right now? And what she does when she hurts?
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Date: 2010-07-09 02:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-09 02:31 pm (UTC)