(no subject)
So yeah, I must thank/blame/acknowledge Kyle for this, cause I haven't posted for a long while, but his vampire logs are just too awesome, so I kinda wanted to try it out. So here's a log I wrote for something that happened to Melody a LONG time ago, the first night she worked as The Herald's whip, but, well, yeah, just wanted to try it! Hope you guys enjoy!
The first van
The light from the van’s cab was flickering. Somewhere, in a place Melody didn’t register, she noted to get a new one. The light needed a PR7 14.4 volt standard flashlight PR replacement bulb, that or it needed batteries. She knew it wasn’t the van’s battery; the light was on a separate circuit, so it could be run when the van was off; during the day, maybe? She wondered when Herald had had opportunity to use it.
The windows were painted out with thick black paint, and it gave the van’s cab the effect of shutting out the world, as though the night inside those blacked out windows were all there was or could be.
In this place Melody took a moment to breathe. She didn’t need to, technically, biologically, but at the same time she did. So she breathed and watched the still face. From a place far away, the place that noted things like light bulbs and the outer space of windows, she noticed, and noticing made her smile. She noticed that Herald breathed in his sleep, almost as if it were reflex. Sitting there in the opium smoke Melody was almost surprised by how possessive she was of the prone figure, passed out or asleep, on the mattress on the van bed’s floor. It wasn’t exactly what she’d expected.
After court, she’d eased him out the back door. It hadn’t been easy. Herald was nearly a foot and a half taller then her and strong. But he’d started to stumble as they crossed the court, aiming for the door, and by the time they’d reached the parking lot he was swaying badly. She had walked beside him, a small stone against his ribcage, with his arm flung wide over her shoulder. He had completely slumped over by the time they got to his van, and she had half guided, half hauled him inside. Doing so, she looked to see where Catabronta had hurt him, but no, it wasn't that kind of wound. She’d shut the doors firmly before climbing up into the too big driver’s seat, and driven them according to Herald’s soft but exact directions, to somewhere safe.
From there she’d lit a pipe for him, and he smoked the small ball of opium until his eyes clouded and his lids began to droop. They didn’t really talk much, not about what had happened at least. He lay on his side, the muscles across his shoulders slowly and achingly relaxing. His eyes stayed on her till the drug took over, and he slipped into sleep.
Then she’d set to work. Moving carefully inside the creaking van, she crept around looking for some clean blankets. Finally finding some in the cab, she rolled him onto one, then removed his jacket and shoes, before using the blanket to ease him onto the mattress that lay on the van’s floor. All the while he didn’t stir. His face in sleep looked oddly child like. She covered him to the chin in another blanket, and folded the remaining one into a pillow, but something was still missing.
His large warm hands looked oddly empty. So Melody went back to her bag and rummaged. Nothing she had seemed quite right. She discarded a set of colored pencils, her chorus book, a pair of mini binoculars, handcuffs, a box of toffee, box of condoms, and her clipboard before she found it. In her bag was a taxidermed fox that she’d gotten on her trip cross country, and had kept in her backpack for no adequate reason that she could think of. Well, now she had a reason. Lifting his arm, she placed the animal next to him like a stuffed toy. That was all she could do. He hadn’t asked or invited her to stay, and she wouldn’t intrude. What use would she have been as a guardian anyway?
Melody sat there for a while, in the light of the flickering bulb, and tried to reason out why things were the way they were. Some of it might have been that the Herald reminded her of her father, at least when he was sober. He was wise and brave and kind in a way that she didn’t always understand. He tried to help people, tonight had been proof of that, even if they didn’t always understand that help. He could and did make Bob go away, and that was no small thing. (Melody could still feel the cold dark hole in her chest where something had been ripped away when Bob had made her watch his murders of those two young women). Still, none of that was it. It was the fact that Herald had asked her to help him, and said he would help her in return. He had asked her to believe him, and he said he would believe her. He was on her side. He had asked for her loyalty, and she found that he had it, 100%. She would do what she could for him, however little she was able, and tonight she could drive a van and provide a stuffed fox.
The first van
The light from the van’s cab was flickering. Somewhere, in a place Melody didn’t register, she noted to get a new one. The light needed a PR7 14.4 volt standard flashlight PR replacement bulb, that or it needed batteries. She knew it wasn’t the van’s battery; the light was on a separate circuit, so it could be run when the van was off; during the day, maybe? She wondered when Herald had had opportunity to use it.
The windows were painted out with thick black paint, and it gave the van’s cab the effect of shutting out the world, as though the night inside those blacked out windows were all there was or could be.
In this place Melody took a moment to breathe. She didn’t need to, technically, biologically, but at the same time she did. So she breathed and watched the still face. From a place far away, the place that noted things like light bulbs and the outer space of windows, she noticed, and noticing made her smile. She noticed that Herald breathed in his sleep, almost as if it were reflex. Sitting there in the opium smoke Melody was almost surprised by how possessive she was of the prone figure, passed out or asleep, on the mattress on the van bed’s floor. It wasn’t exactly what she’d expected.
After court, she’d eased him out the back door. It hadn’t been easy. Herald was nearly a foot and a half taller then her and strong. But he’d started to stumble as they crossed the court, aiming for the door, and by the time they’d reached the parking lot he was swaying badly. She had walked beside him, a small stone against his ribcage, with his arm flung wide over her shoulder. He had completely slumped over by the time they got to his van, and she had half guided, half hauled him inside. Doing so, she looked to see where Catabronta had hurt him, but no, it wasn't that kind of wound. She’d shut the doors firmly before climbing up into the too big driver’s seat, and driven them according to Herald’s soft but exact directions, to somewhere safe.
From there she’d lit a pipe for him, and he smoked the small ball of opium until his eyes clouded and his lids began to droop. They didn’t really talk much, not about what had happened at least. He lay on his side, the muscles across his shoulders slowly and achingly relaxing. His eyes stayed on her till the drug took over, and he slipped into sleep.
Then she’d set to work. Moving carefully inside the creaking van, she crept around looking for some clean blankets. Finally finding some in the cab, she rolled him onto one, then removed his jacket and shoes, before using the blanket to ease him onto the mattress that lay on the van’s floor. All the while he didn’t stir. His face in sleep looked oddly child like. She covered him to the chin in another blanket, and folded the remaining one into a pillow, but something was still missing.
His large warm hands looked oddly empty. So Melody went back to her bag and rummaged. Nothing she had seemed quite right. She discarded a set of colored pencils, her chorus book, a pair of mini binoculars, handcuffs, a box of toffee, box of condoms, and her clipboard before she found it. In her bag was a taxidermed fox that she’d gotten on her trip cross country, and had kept in her backpack for no adequate reason that she could think of. Well, now she had a reason. Lifting his arm, she placed the animal next to him like a stuffed toy. That was all she could do. He hadn’t asked or invited her to stay, and she wouldn’t intrude. What use would she have been as a guardian anyway?
Melody sat there for a while, in the light of the flickering bulb, and tried to reason out why things were the way they were. Some of it might have been that the Herald reminded her of her father, at least when he was sober. He was wise and brave and kind in a way that she didn’t always understand. He tried to help people, tonight had been proof of that, even if they didn’t always understand that help. He could and did make Bob go away, and that was no small thing. (Melody could still feel the cold dark hole in her chest where something had been ripped away when Bob had made her watch his murders of those two young women). Still, none of that was it. It was the fact that Herald had asked her to help him, and said he would help her in return. He had asked her to believe him, and he said he would believe her. He was on her side. He had asked for her loyalty, and she found that he had it, 100%. She would do what she could for him, however little she was able, and tonight she could drive a van and provide a stuffed fox.