Episode LX: Arrangements
She unlocked the apartment door, opening it and walking through the threshold and looking around. She hated the new arrangements that went into securing apartments nowadays. Before, all it took was a quick kill of someone that had an apartment, and then you had logings until either their rent payments ran out, or someone came around to check the place, usually family or friends who were wondering what had happened to the previous tenant. Sometimes it was easy enough to case a possible home, finding someone who didn't have many connections and wouldn't be missed.
In today's society, it was harder to secure a place to live -- too many questions asked, too many connections to the outside world -- even if one went through the proper channels, usually landlords needed documentation, ID, banking information. Doing things the legit way wouldn't have bothered her; she actually would have preferred it. But without a valid ID, birth certificate, or any other proof of existence, it wasn't a route she could go. Even dealing with some landlords in illegal housing, it was unlikely that they would rent to her, a girl with no ID, and who looked underage.
Her last apartment was a quick kill, one that had finally been followed through by a curious landlord wondering why the tenant hadn't been seen in a month or two. She still was with Dutchy's clan, but she was a creature of habit; better to always have somewhere to fall back to, if she felt she was being followed, or if dawn came before she could get home, which was happening with a surprisingly increasing frequency of late.
She used to have three safehouses, secondary apartments that she could stay at, rest in, should she be caught away from home. But she lost two of them during the month she spent most of in torpor, and a third she had to leave in a hurry once she noticed a group of undercover cops casing the outside of the building she was in. She knew that Sartori would always have an open door for her, but she knew she'd be best to make sure she didn't always have to bum a room from him.
She looked around this new place, surprised at the state of it, much nicer than she was used to dealing with. Turning and using a thrall had proved to be worth it; the busty brunette that had "arranged the appartment" had the rent paid through for the next year, which was something she wouldn't have to worry about, and the landlord had been more than easy to convince that she would be out of the country, and that her little "sister" would be staying in the loft apartment for that time.
She would keep her guard up, but she didn't anticipate any problems, something she was grateful for; there were enough things she had to worry about, things she wanted to try and fix, that having to deal with another liability would just plain suck.
But she didn't think she would have a problem. She closed the door behind her, and dropped the keys on the table in the entryway. It was a large loft, bigger than she really needed, but since she wasn't the one paying for it, she wasn't going to complain.
She dropped her bag in the living room, looking through the large bay windows. The curtains would be good enough for now to keep out the sun, but she would make sure to get some proper tinting on the windows. It would be a shame to cover up the windows in heavy drapes, they were designed to have some beautiful gauzy curtains instead. But gauze does not keep the sun out, and unless she wanted to work on her tan, then tinted windows it would be.
She loved the loft bedroom the apartment had, one end by the floor-to-ceiling window having a staircase, and the farther end with a ladder. 'It's like having my own super-huge bunkbed,' she giggled, going upstairs and falling down into the bed, frowning at the hardness of the mattress. She was one for soft, pillowy beds, so that would have to be changed, as well. But it was good enough for now.
She had nothing to do today, which was odd. Well, it might have been overstating 'nothing to do' since she knew she did have stuff to do, lots to do, in fact. But it was still with the Sypheronias, and she didn't want to do it. Aside from those clan duties, she could have stopped by the pub, but even then, she felt awkward there.
'Oh, come off it, Persephony,' she chided herself, 'you want to go there, you're just too afraid to admit it. You like it there, you love it there, you've never felt more at home there. And. That. SCARES YOU.' her inner voice chided her, and she rolled over on the bed, hoping that a pillow could drown out the sound of her conscience.
She DID want to go back there. She DID like being there. But she was afraid of what it meant. Of who was there.
The conversation she had had with Sartori the other day had bothered her more than she was willing to admit. She didn't like the possibility that she might be percieved as a vulture, trying to benefit off of his divorce. She didn't like the possibility of ANYONE thinking that, never mind Sartori. But what if it became true?
'Oh, stop deluding yourself,' she chided herself. 'You already do like him.
She rolled over, gathering a pillow under her head and looking out the large windows at the night sky. So perhaps it was true... maybe she had falled in love with him, maybe she had been for quite some time. She tried to place a date to it, and buried her face in the pillow when she did find a specific day. It was back when Sartori was still married to Spookie, which turned her stomach, leaving her disgusted with herself.
She hadn't acted on it, though... she still hadn't. She had done exactly as a friend would... so she hoped. She wanted to see Sartori happy, had tried to make sure he was, even if it was with Spookie. But at the same time, she wanted him to be happy, which Spookie wasn't making him. What was the right path to choose in such an instance? Tell him to leave, which might make him happier, or it might not, but would be construed as having an ulterior motive. Or she could not, keep giving him hope that things might get better, than perhaps this was just a phase that most relationships went through...
Either path had its downfalls. But she couldn't take advantage of his failing marriage. No matter what, her conscience told her it was wrong, her morals dictated that she should help a friend. At the same time, she knew she was probably reading too much into things, that she was worrying for nothing. But then the nagging voice would come back, what if she wasn't?
She sighed, getting comfortable and nestling into the blankets as she usually did. Not like it changed anything; She'd be a friend, and nothing more, just as usual. But why did that leave her disappointed, at the same time? 'Because you like Sartori, because you can be honest with Sartori, because Sartori's the only person that really knows you, because he's the only person you trust,' her mind re-iterated to her, listing off a million and one reasons that only served to frustrate the hell out of her.
'He doesn't need another girl swooning over him, he needs a friend.' she repeated in her head over and over, wondering if she repeated it enough, would she start believing it.
It didn't help her any that Sartori was naturally a flirt. It made her resolve waver further when she found herself flirting back before she knew it. Or, as flirting as she managed before she realized that most of the things talked about turned to innuendo before she realized it. And even then, she didn't understand alot of it, as well. But it was the most fun she had had talking to someone in a long time, and she liked how easily she could joke around with him.
Besides, everywhere she looked, relationships were horrible. Breakups, lying, deceipt, heart ache... why would she want that? She'd rather be the friend that she was now, and enjoy that state, than run the risk of ruining things and then hating each other forever. Since when did someone have to stop being a friend to have a relationship, anyways? She liked his friendship, valued it more than anything, and regardless of whatever happened in the future, she loved him enough to want to see him happy, regardless of whether he was happy with her or someone else.
She blinked, sitting straight up in the bed, breaking out into a cold sweat. Since when did love factor into anything? She shivered, and curled up into a ball as the realization sank into the pit of her stomach. Perhaps love was a little extreme, she lied to herself. She didn't know the emotion; even when she was professing that she was in love with Sacre, she knew deep down that it wasn't love. It was affection, to be certain. But to be IN love with someone was different from just LOVING them.
She got up and paced the window, looking out into the lightening sky. It was just love, like the affection for a brother, that was all she felt. There was no need to fly off the handle at the semantics of a word chosen out of the blue. She wasn't in love with Sartori.
She wasn't. She repeated it over and over again in her head, as she gathered her bag and left the apartment, heading towards the Sypheronia castle. She couldn't be in love, she whispered under her breath as she walked through the door with 20 minutes to spare before dawn. And even as she muttered it to herself going up the stairs, passing Dutchy without realizing it, she refused to believe it.
The hand on her own made her pause, and she finally took notice of her mother looking over her worriedly. But even as she met her eyes, Persephony knew she didn't believe it. Moreso, Dutchy didn't believe her either.
"Pers?" She blinked at hearing her name, wondering what to tell her mother, what to even think about it all.
"I think I’m in trouble."
In today's society, it was harder to secure a place to live -- too many questions asked, too many connections to the outside world -- even if one went through the proper channels, usually landlords needed documentation, ID, banking information. Doing things the legit way wouldn't have bothered her; she actually would have preferred it. But without a valid ID, birth certificate, or any other proof of existence, it wasn't a route she could go. Even dealing with some landlords in illegal housing, it was unlikely that they would rent to her, a girl with no ID, and who looked underage.
Her last apartment was a quick kill, one that had finally been followed through by a curious landlord wondering why the tenant hadn't been seen in a month or two. She still was with Dutchy's clan, but she was a creature of habit; better to always have somewhere to fall back to, if she felt she was being followed, or if dawn came before she could get home, which was happening with a surprisingly increasing frequency of late.
She used to have three safehouses, secondary apartments that she could stay at, rest in, should she be caught away from home. But she lost two of them during the month she spent most of in torpor, and a third she had to leave in a hurry once she noticed a group of undercover cops casing the outside of the building she was in. She knew that Sartori would always have an open door for her, but she knew she'd be best to make sure she didn't always have to bum a room from him.
She looked around this new place, surprised at the state of it, much nicer than she was used to dealing with. Turning and using a thrall had proved to be worth it; the busty brunette that had "arranged the appartment" had the rent paid through for the next year, which was something she wouldn't have to worry about, and the landlord had been more than easy to convince that she would be out of the country, and that her little "sister" would be staying in the loft apartment for that time.
She would keep her guard up, but she didn't anticipate any problems, something she was grateful for; there were enough things she had to worry about, things she wanted to try and fix, that having to deal with another liability would just plain suck.
But she didn't think she would have a problem. She closed the door behind her, and dropped the keys on the table in the entryway. It was a large loft, bigger than she really needed, but since she wasn't the one paying for it, she wasn't going to complain.
She dropped her bag in the living room, looking through the large bay windows. The curtains would be good enough for now to keep out the sun, but she would make sure to get some proper tinting on the windows. It would be a shame to cover up the windows in heavy drapes, they were designed to have some beautiful gauzy curtains instead. But gauze does not keep the sun out, and unless she wanted to work on her tan, then tinted windows it would be.
She loved the loft bedroom the apartment had, one end by the floor-to-ceiling window having a staircase, and the farther end with a ladder. 'It's like having my own super-huge bunkbed,' she giggled, going upstairs and falling down into the bed, frowning at the hardness of the mattress. She was one for soft, pillowy beds, so that would have to be changed, as well. But it was good enough for now.
She had nothing to do today, which was odd. Well, it might have been overstating 'nothing to do' since she knew she did have stuff to do, lots to do, in fact. But it was still with the Sypheronias, and she didn't want to do it. Aside from those clan duties, she could have stopped by the pub, but even then, she felt awkward there.
'Oh, come off it, Persephony,' she chided herself, 'you want to go there, you're just too afraid to admit it. You like it there, you love it there, you've never felt more at home there. And. That. SCARES YOU.' her inner voice chided her, and she rolled over on the bed, hoping that a pillow could drown out the sound of her conscience.
She DID want to go back there. She DID like being there. But she was afraid of what it meant. Of who was there.
The conversation she had had with Sartori the other day had bothered her more than she was willing to admit. She didn't like the possibility that she might be percieved as a vulture, trying to benefit off of his divorce. She didn't like the possibility of ANYONE thinking that, never mind Sartori. But what if it became true?
'Oh, stop deluding yourself,' she chided herself. 'You already do like him.
She rolled over, gathering a pillow under her head and looking out the large windows at the night sky. So perhaps it was true... maybe she had falled in love with him, maybe she had been for quite some time. She tried to place a date to it, and buried her face in the pillow when she did find a specific day. It was back when Sartori was still married to Spookie, which turned her stomach, leaving her disgusted with herself.
She hadn't acted on it, though... she still hadn't. She had done exactly as a friend would... so she hoped. She wanted to see Sartori happy, had tried to make sure he was, even if it was with Spookie. But at the same time, she wanted him to be happy, which Spookie wasn't making him. What was the right path to choose in such an instance? Tell him to leave, which might make him happier, or it might not, but would be construed as having an ulterior motive. Or she could not, keep giving him hope that things might get better, than perhaps this was just a phase that most relationships went through...
Either path had its downfalls. But she couldn't take advantage of his failing marriage. No matter what, her conscience told her it was wrong, her morals dictated that she should help a friend. At the same time, she knew she was probably reading too much into things, that she was worrying for nothing. But then the nagging voice would come back, what if she wasn't?
She sighed, getting comfortable and nestling into the blankets as she usually did. Not like it changed anything; She'd be a friend, and nothing more, just as usual. But why did that leave her disappointed, at the same time? 'Because you like Sartori, because you can be honest with Sartori, because Sartori's the only person that really knows you, because he's the only person you trust,' her mind re-iterated to her, listing off a million and one reasons that only served to frustrate the hell out of her.
'He doesn't need another girl swooning over him, he needs a friend.' she repeated in her head over and over, wondering if she repeated it enough, would she start believing it.
It didn't help her any that Sartori was naturally a flirt. It made her resolve waver further when she found herself flirting back before she knew it. Or, as flirting as she managed before she realized that most of the things talked about turned to innuendo before she realized it. And even then, she didn't understand alot of it, as well. But it was the most fun she had had talking to someone in a long time, and she liked how easily she could joke around with him.
Besides, everywhere she looked, relationships were horrible. Breakups, lying, deceipt, heart ache... why would she want that? She'd rather be the friend that she was now, and enjoy that state, than run the risk of ruining things and then hating each other forever. Since when did someone have to stop being a friend to have a relationship, anyways? She liked his friendship, valued it more than anything, and regardless of whatever happened in the future, she loved him enough to want to see him happy, regardless of whether he was happy with her or someone else.
She blinked, sitting straight up in the bed, breaking out into a cold sweat. Since when did love factor into anything? She shivered, and curled up into a ball as the realization sank into the pit of her stomach. Perhaps love was a little extreme, she lied to herself. She didn't know the emotion; even when she was professing that she was in love with Sacre, she knew deep down that it wasn't love. It was affection, to be certain. But to be IN love with someone was different from just LOVING them.
She got up and paced the window, looking out into the lightening sky. It was just love, like the affection for a brother, that was all she felt. There was no need to fly off the handle at the semantics of a word chosen out of the blue. She wasn't in love with Sartori.
She wasn't. She repeated it over and over again in her head, as she gathered her bag and left the apartment, heading towards the Sypheronia castle. She couldn't be in love, she whispered under her breath as she walked through the door with 20 minutes to spare before dawn. And even as she muttered it to herself going up the stairs, passing Dutchy without realizing it, she refused to believe it.
The hand on her own made her pause, and she finally took notice of her mother looking over her worriedly. But even as she met her eyes, Persephony knew she didn't believe it. Moreso, Dutchy didn't believe her either.
"Pers?" She blinked at hearing her name, wondering what to tell her mother, what to even think about it all.
"I think I’m in trouble."