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Post by Esme M. Lolland on Oct 13, 2008 10:26:48 GMT -1
Esme arrived at the building about ten minutes early. She had been so anxious about the meeting that day that she had stayed up studying for her test that day. Having studied so much she finished the test in record time, giving her enough time to get lunch, wander the school grounds and still end up at the deserted building with more than enough time to disarm all of her traps.
The building was an extremely old building that creaked with the wind, parts of the building were boarded up and most of it still had furniture from when it was last inhabited. Esme enjoyed this building more than any other place on campus, it was old and beautiful, no doubt about it, but it was also her sanctuary. That's why she anticipated her meeting here that much more, she had never trusted anyone with the knowledge of her safe haven and she was hoping this didn't backfire.
She sat down in a chair that she had grown accustomed to, a large old love seat that appeared to be from the 1930s. She held her cell phone in her hand, looking at the time almost way too obsessively.
"Where are they?" she asked no one in particular, "Perhaps I should have traded cell phone numbers with Vlad... does he even have one though?" She mused. "Maybe because he's so old he doesn't understand how to use modern technology. I should buy him a cell phone so that I can get in touch with him, if he doesn't have one."
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Post by Vlad on Oct 14, 2008 0:32:35 GMT -1
The humans moved so slowly to him, their movements languid to his enhanced vision. He glanced again at the address Esme had given him and turned right onto the next street. This was a time he wished it was night so that he could have flown, he was going to be late. He detested being late. His only comfort was that Morgan would be later than himself.
Round the next corner stood the building they were to meet at, there could be no mistaking. He half chuckled at the old building, he truly felt a kinship with it. He himself creaked with the wind, striving and failing to keep up with the talk of the times. There were parts of his past that he'd boarded up and would share with no one. And certain things form the century he'd been born in had never left him like his speech. Yes, he and this building would get along perfectly well, old and beautiful the both of them.
Echoes of the spells, Esme's disarmed traps, brushed against his skin as he stepped into the bottom floor of the building. "Second floor." He said to himself and set about locating the stairs. Climbing them, he found his swan perched in an old chair mumbling to herself. "..that I can get in touch with him, if he doesn't have one." She was saying.
He made his footfalls heavier. "Am I interrupting something?"
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Post by Esme M. Lolland on Oct 14, 2008 0:42:27 GMT -1
Esme didn't jump out of her skin like she typically would have if someone snuck up on her in her sanctuary. She was anxiously awaiting this visitor and she knew he was particularly stealthy so there was no reason for her to jump. Instead she looked toward the door as a small smile danced upon her lips. She had been waiting so long for him it seemed, and she was happy to see him.
"No, you weren't interrupting a thing. I just have a nasty habit of mumbling to myself when I'm bored or troubled. Nothing too terrible."
She moved over on her chair, opening up yet another seat for Vlad if he so pleased. She pulled a water bottle out of her backpack at the foot of her seat and took a small sip.
" Have a seat," she motioned toward the many places in the room. He got his chance to choose this time, much like Esme had the night before, "Did you have trouble finding the place? I must admit that it has a fairly distinct sort of architecture compared to the others. Something that just screams 'Witch's Hideout!', don't you agree?"
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Post by Vlad on Oct 14, 2008 1:00:36 GMT -1
He had distantly hoped she might have jumped, but the smile she gave him was just as pleasing. "Were you Bored or troubled this time, Ms. Esme?" He asked. The girl's thoughts never got dull or displeasing, when given the chance to delve deeper into her mind he would. "I hum." He confessed, really the only human habit that still plagued him.
He took a seat, close enough so that they might be comfortable but so close so that when Morgan entered the room that she might think them lovers something of that nature. Even something so simple as where he sat would not escape the sorceress' notice, nothing ever did.
It was his turn to smile now when she asked if he'd had trouble finding her little sanctuary. "Your directions were superb. Though, I think, if you had said something along the lines of find the daunting mansion on the college campus I should have found it just fine. It stands out as does a sore thumb, a small wonder it should be thought haunted. Though I must admit it holds a certain charm."
A glance towards the door, instinctive though unnecessary. No footfalls yet, Morgan was nowhere within the building. "The friend I mentioned should not be much longer. It is unlike her to be very late." Would she have news of Lucifer or Gabriel, The Fifth perhaps, when she did arrive? He truly hoped not, but then, better maybe that she did.
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Post by Esme M. Lolland on Oct 14, 2008 1:17:48 GMT -1
Esme placed her water bottle on the floor and tucked her legs underneath her on the chair. She crossed her hands and placed them on her lap. She hadn't given thought as to whether she was troubled or bored when she was talking to herself moments before, it was just a habit she had that she tended to ignore. "Perhaps it was a mixture of both. Troubled that perhaps you were unable to decipher my directions and wouldn't show up at all. And bored because I haven't any homework and I haven't read a book for leisure for so long that I have no idea what to do with myself any longer."
Esme smiled silently when Vlad took his seat, it wasn't far from her proving that her fear hadn't upsetted him the night before. He was still seeing her as the Esme he had met, not the one that was filled with fear when the day turned to night and the creatures came out to haunt.
His smile was more than enough to place her theory in stone. He definately was not upset with her, but trusted her all the same and she was happy.
Esme was slightly interested to find out who this friend was, but she didn't want to force Vlad to explain any time soon. After last night she knew that it could be anyone, a nameless Vampiress or someone as deeply placed in folklore as the Lady of the Mist. Only time would tell who Vlad brought to meet Esme that day, but that time seemed to pass slowly in Esme's point of view.
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Post by Vlad on Oct 17, 2008 1:36:08 GMT -1
He sat, straight as a board and as proper as the gentleman he was in the chair. He would slouch a bit in view of the public eye, the perfect posture was as ostentatious as a flashing bulb above his head, but Esme knew what he was and in this setting there was no reason to watch himself. A pleasant freedom usually confined to the council's manor.
He sat, close enough to touch, but not touching. He could remember the fear rolling off the girl in waves when last they'd met, they did not need to replicate that incident. So, he would be himself, but cautious none the less. Perhaps not so free when all was said.
What could be keeping Morgan? If some tragedy had befallen her, then surely she would have contacted him by some means. "While we wait, I wonder if you might enchant me yet again with your sweet voice. A favorite story perhaps. A tale from your own childhood? The choice is yours, I care not what you say so long as you speak."
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Post by Esme M. Lolland on Oct 17, 2008 1:56:13 GMT -1
Esme sighed, he was perfection in the body of the a member of the vitally challenged. She watched his movements thoughtfully, each one held all of the grace and beauty of the ages, he himself held much of that grace in a single follicle of hair.
"Tell you a story?" She repeated his question, resting her elbow on the end of the back of the chair and her chin on her arm, "I don't quite know what to tell you. I could tell you about my childhood, but I'm afraid it's not that interesting. My mother and father are both lawyers, owners of a big law firm back in Leeds. I'm here learning law to appease them, but truly I'm here for my own selfish needs, like you know. I have a brother who's off building houses for the underprivileged, much like Prince Wills did. My family's been in Leeds for centuries, many of my ancestors were Lords and Knights and such. My father continues to claim that he's tenth in line for the throne, but I'm not quite sure about that. Much like my parents have always claimed generations of witches being in our family, but they don't believe it, much like I had when I was younger... before things became strange. Before the supernatural."
If it weren't for the supernatural, Esme noted to herself, she would not be sitting in this room. She would not have been dragged off of the University campus the night prior to. And without the world of the supernatural she would not be sitting so close to Vlad, to the past and to her future. She made a mental note that when she knew more about this world, she needed to thank the person in charge.
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Post by Vlad on Oct 17, 2008 2:15:32 GMT -1
How strange that the daughter of lawyers should be so much an ancient soul in a modern shell, based upon the stereotypes of human lawyers it would not be what one would expect. Selfish needs would not have been the term he'd have used but he wouldn't make her pause in her story to argue. The brother seemed to fit with this strange girl, this graceful swan. The generous Prince Wills and the Modern Ancient. The Modern Ancient, yes he liked that very much.
"I believe, dear Ms. Esme, that you have ended the story at it's climax. Though what most call supernatural to me is commonplace and mundane, in the case of your life I would love nothing more than to know when and how you discovered that power which flickers within you..." He placed a hand gently over her chest, the flat expanse between neck and breasts where he could 'see' the small flicker within her. Though it was more a sensing than a sight. "...just here."
Morgan had often described magic to him as a candle flame dangerously close to fuel. So harmless but with such potential for destruction if things should go awry. How had his sweet swan felt, acted when she'd discovered she carried the flame and fuel inside of her?
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Post by Esme M. Lolland on Oct 17, 2008 2:44:23 GMT -1
Esme took a quick breath when Vlad placed his hand on her chest in exactly the spot where her breast felt heaviest. The exact place that she found most of her work and pain presided. Vlad's persistence in finding out more about Esme made her feel slightly self-conscience, there hadn't been a time in her entire life that she had been asked about how she felt about things, so him being genuinely interested was something different to her.
When had she found out that she had the power? There had definitely been points where she suspected things, but perhaps there was one time that it was more definite than others... there had to have been.
"I'm not quite positive when I realized, but I do remember many different things happening. Things that couldn't quite be explained. One of which included a car accident that should have happened, would have happened... if I hadn't seen it before it happened. I saved my neighbor's life because of it, and then I realized that something was different about me. It was only then that I decided to find out what was wrong with me. I had though at first that it was just a coincidence, but the stories my parents haunted me in my sleep. To the point that I decided that there was no chance in me denying that I was strange.
"After that, I began studying magic, little by little. Typically it was stuff that I learned from books at the library on how to be a Wiccan. Later, I began to go to stores that were supposedly run by witches until I decided that this had to be for real. It was only then that I had decided to go to London to study law, and I realized that going to London would be my chance to learn what I was. Since I arrived here, I've learned so much about what I am, about who I should be, that I'm slightly confused.
"Everyone who's ever told me anything about my fate had had the validity of a palm reader or a tarot card possessing fake. You're the first person who had actually been able to tell me more about this about what I could potentially be in just your body language than any of them have been able to in weeks of teaching me."
Esme giggled at herself, dryly, "I apoligize... I can't even answer your question right. I truly have no idea what I am, I don't know when it happened, and I don't why. It just... did." She shrugged her shoulders and looked at Vlad, hoping that maybe he could make sense out of the jumble of words, because she certainly could not.
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Post by Vlad on Oct 17, 2008 3:12:49 GMT -1
Very fortunate that she should have saved a life rather than ended one. So many with magic discovered the ability in a tragedy, it was good to know his swan was not one of them. Not only because it would make Morgan's task of mentoring the girl easier, but because he found himself growing strangely protective of young Ms. Esme. Twice they'd met but he was fond of this human girl. The way her words sometimes stumbled over one another as they left her lips, the way informal words mixed with those from years gone by. The way she was so different from her generation, her facial expressions, her confusion...
A new turn to a common place story, never had he heard of someone studying the Wiccan arts. Especially the mention of palm readers and other such impostors. She'd done well with what little she'd been given. Such a wise swan. "To speak truth, my swan. I could speak endlessly to you of the supernatural, yes. But of magic I know little. Morgan, my friend on who we wait, though perhaps knows more than any you will meet."
He chuckled. "And you answered my question perfectly well, my dearest." His eyes met hers as he said this next. "You are merely you, sweet swan. It is something to be proud over."
It was only now that he noticed his questions were making her uncomfortable, though as to why he could not fathom. Had he said something wrong? He couldn't think an awkward phrase or embarrassing question. Perhaps it had been asking about when she'd discovered her power. Well, fair as they say, is fair.
"I see that my inquires have disquieted you, my swan. Very well, then it shall be your turn. Ask whatever you like of me, with my blessing." There would be things he would not wish to answer but he could always edit the more gruesome portions of his past.
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