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Aug. 11th, 2010
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akonken.livejournal.comHugh Hogarth was dead. Drained like a glass of wine by an alcoholic, dissolved into ash, and disappeared.
Nobody'd said anything to her, of course; it was fascinating how quickly they all seemed to have forgotten she'd belonged to anyone but Markus - as if they believed, as she professed to, that the ghoul and the vampire were separate people. She'd heard it in passing, that was all. No more detail. He was gone.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
She really wasn't sure. Not "she had mixed feelings about it." Not "she didn't feel anything." She wasn't sure how she felt. She could feel a little butterfly in a box in her chest, its velvet wings beating against the corners, but it didn't reach the rest of her. Only the whisper leaked through to her mind, and it was too faint for her to make out. The effort was in vain.
Charlotte was intrigued, savouring the unusual experience. It was the first time she'd experienced something that might indicate that this claim that she wouldn't feel emotions was true. She'd had - and continued to have - a wide range of them, and had been rather amused at the idea. Perhaps other Kindred had not been widely-developed emotionally before their Embraces, but she was quite fully-formed, thank you.
Or perhaps not quite.
She wondered what it was, this echo stirring within her. Relief? Remorse? Sadness? She was sure she'd felt all those things before, and would recognise them.
What was it?
What was she missing?
What didn't she have?
Nobody'd said anything to her, of course; it was fascinating how quickly they all seemed to have forgotten she'd belonged to anyone but Markus - as if they believed, as she professed to, that the ghoul and the vampire were separate people. She'd heard it in passing, that was all. No more detail. He was gone.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
She really wasn't sure. Not "she had mixed feelings about it." Not "she didn't feel anything." She wasn't sure how she felt. She could feel a little butterfly in a box in her chest, its velvet wings beating against the corners, but it didn't reach the rest of her. Only the whisper leaked through to her mind, and it was too faint for her to make out. The effort was in vain.
Charlotte was intrigued, savouring the unusual experience. It was the first time she'd experienced something that might indicate that this claim that she wouldn't feel emotions was true. She'd had - and continued to have - a wide range of them, and had been rather amused at the idea. Perhaps other Kindred had not been widely-developed emotionally before their Embraces, but she was quite fully-formed, thank you.
Or perhaps not quite.
She wondered what it was, this echo stirring within her. Relief? Remorse? Sadness? She was sure she'd felt all those things before, and would recognise them.
What was it?
What was she missing?
What didn't she have?
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