Ghosts of the Morning (Part 3)
The la Diamonte stood as one of the most regal hotels in San Francisco. Kindred from across the world had been entertained therein, its halls lavishly decorated and comfort assured. No human had access to floors above the sixth, though the hotel extended a full fourteen floors above the streets below; the highest building for blocks, allowing kindred to speak and act openly on its opulent rooftop balcony. Arm-in-arm Johannes and Audra strolled through the gilded entrance hall, bellhops catering to the guests' needs, paying no attention to the expertly-dressed pair. Johannes walked directly to a side elevator, wherein which he inserted a key. The back wall of the elevator opened, revealing another, more private transport. Stepping backwards, grinning, he again inserted his key into the blank panel which set the elevator moving, smoothly and noiselessly. Opening on the seventh floor, Johannes walked onto the decadant landing, dominated by a large double-doorway emblazened with the Invictus symbol.
"You've hardly stopped grinning since we landed, Baroness. I don't disapprove," he remarked, leading her to the doors.
His guest tried to pull the corners ofher mouth into a more serious facade, but after failing miserably, she simply laughed, her head falling to the side as she hugged his arm mirthfully. "I very much enjoyed that, and I believe you have convinced me to no longer prefer cars."
The doors opened wide at Johannes' gentle and gloved touch, the revealed room stunning even by kindred terms. The expansive room, taking up the majority of the floor, was opulently detailed. Art hung on the walls, lavish rugs lay before plush couches, chairs, and old-world tables. A small bar sat next to another, smaller, set of double-doors to the West, but every seat in the house had a full view of the floor-to-ceiling windows facing North, overwatching the city below, the fog crawling through the midnight streets. Audra's eye seems to catch every line, curve, and ornament as she detached from his arm to stroll the room, her hands trailing across soft fabrics and expertly-crafted hardwood. Standing with his gloved hands resting idly on a nearby couch, Johannes watched her explore the space, her eyes unreadable as she surveyed the majesty surrounding her. "Should there be anything you desire, I have little doubt arrangements could be made..." he trailed off.
Still circling the room, fingers or gaze settling on everything, she shook her head a touch. "I am quite content actually. You have already shown me so much, but I am sure my mind will soon settle and at that point I'm sure I'll think of something," she called, still exploring the room, her voice filled with innocent delight.
Johannes' gaze followed Audra, from her inquisitive glances up the spiral staircase, out the windows, and as she studied the various pieces of art on the walls. She pointed to a particular piece, a splash of red and black accented with streaks of silver, asking a silent question. "I chose very little in this room actually," he replied, joining his gest before the large piece at a slow and unhurried pace. "The contributions I have made to this hotel are in two things; security, and in that room there," he pointed offhandedly to the simple yet expensive-looking double-doors on the far wall.
His guest's gaze immediately filled with curiosity, heading towards the doors as she spoke. "And what is in that room there, if I may be so bold," brushing a fallen strand of blond away from her face.
"That is simply my room when I am not patrolling the city. And it would be a far cry to call any of your statements or actions too bold this night" came the response as he moved to follow her, unspoken overtones hanging in the air.
Giggling softly, he glanced over her shoulder at him. "I never said too bold," she murmured quietly. Quietly continuing her stroll, she continued to run her fingers against those objects in her path, lingering on most. He came up behind her as she stared out the window, his haunting image reflecting his cruel eyes as he watched her gaze over the city.
She posed a question of his history, of his thoughts. Though he sidestepped them neatly, Audra was not the woman to be so easily distracted. Pressing upon him to relay his thoughts, and how his past had brought him to that moment, his eventual response was a simple gesture towards the simple doors. "Let me show you." Her eyes quickly focused on the doors in the glass reflection, though she made no motion to move for long moments. Haltingly, she turned from the window and strode to the doors, though she stopped just before them, a hand held out slightly as if to reach for the handle, but halted. Having waited for her to move first, Johannes followed closely. His hand gently on her back, without ceremony he pushed open the doors, letting her enter before him.
The room beyond was sparsely decorated and dimly lit from small candles and a desk lamp illuminating a sheaf of black parchment, a stoppered inkwell, and a golden quill ready for use. The desk appeared to be a dark rosewood, matching the four-poster full-sized bed, armoire against the far wall, and small cupboard underneath a mirror. The room was painted a dark green, matching the carpet, though wood strips provided accents at the corners. Twin shelves sat on either side of the desk, each holding a photograph. One also held an unlit candle, the other a pistol.
Peering into the room, his guest's eyes were drawn instantly to the writing desk, taking a small desk as she notes the gilded quill and dark crimson ink. "You still write with quill and ink?" she asked, almost rhetorically. He nodded slightly, just at the corner of her vision. Without thinking, the words falling from her lips, she continued, "How old are you?" Gasping, she lifted a hand to her mouth. "I apologize, I didn't mean to, I mean ..." she stammered, trying to wave away the question with a flick of the wrist.
Johannes' answer cuts her off, both with its speed and its matter-of-fact tone, without any hint of insult. "I am old enough to know my place, and young enough to know that I may sometimes be required to overstep my boundaries to get the job done." His eyes never left hers, showing only a cold stare of duty.
Though she showed no reaction to his response, she quickly found distraction in one of the black-and-white photographs. It was a picture of Johannes during the war, helpless in a hospital. The words "Nie Wieder" emblazened in the frame. His bandages, covering his legs, torso, left arm, and neck, were soaked through in places with blood, his gaze listless and possibly unconscious. Remaining in the doorway, Johannes watched her look at the photograph, studying it. Her fingers stroked the edge of the frame, careful not to touch the glass, whispering, "Did it hurt?" Johannes did not answer.
Seemingly lost in the image for a moment, her eyes flitted over all aspects of the photograph. Finally setting it back on the shelf from whence she took it, she moved to the other photograph, this one depicting two sharply-dressed men, one a teenager and one perhaps in his mid to late twenties, on a Berlin street. She didn't touch the second image, perhaps noting the small traces of crimson dried to the glass. "I wonder who the photographer was," she remarked, though she was met with stony silence. "Who are the two men?" she asked, ignorant of the pain in his eyes.
"My sons" he whispers, jaw tightly clenched.
"Sons?" she exclaimed with obvious surprise, turning towards him and suddenly realizing the tension he held. He refused to speak, better served by silence than by the potential release of his tightly-held emotion. His guest, eyes downcast, turned and walked slowly to the doorway, though Johannes did not move for her. With neck tense, his eyes closed, and a thin trail of blood streaking down his cheek, he reached a gloved hand into the folds of his jacket, withdrawing a single folded letter, and handed it somberly to the uncertain girl before him.
With worried eyes, she scanned the few lines, mouth agape, head shaking with fear. The letter's simple contents were that Dirk Jaegerman had died while at a military academy, very recently. The stains of blood on the picture were his, she realized with no small horror. Looking quickly at her host, his eyes stared straight ahead, his face a mask of stoic duty, though his hands were clenched tightly at his sides, trembling with the rage held within.
Folding the letter with nervous fingers, she returned it to Johannes. "I don't know why you would reveal something like this to me," her tone apologetic yet genuinely innocent and curious.
With measured calm he looked to her, his eyes narrow. "You asked."
Stepping close, her eyes and voice revealed genuine appreciation. "Thank you."
Before she could say more Johannes continued from a past thought, seemingly avoiding any further conversation about his sons. "I still write with a quill. Each letter crafted as I was taught, in a style few remember but few fail to recognize. The best for the best."
Wrinking her nose with confusion, Audra pressed, "I don't understand that; 'the best for the best' of what?"
Stepping even closer to Audra, uncomfortably so given his demeanor, he gestures to each of the parchment, quill, ink, and desk. "Each tool in my arsenal is uniquely crafted to suit both my will and intent," his lips half-smiling though there was still steel in his voice. "If only all things in life were built with such care, and used with such purpose. I have composed letters to those whose words shake the very ground upon which we walk and have received high compliments for my attention to detail." Looking down at her, he continued, a passion visible in his eyes. "There is never an excuse for performance that is less than excellent." With the fire in his voice Audra took an involuntary step back, though she managed to keep her composure in the face of the towering figure before her. Squaring her shoulders, her demeanor became more professional, more courtly.
Stripping his gloves slowly and depositing them on a nearby table, for the first time in the evening his silver wedding band caught the soft light. His severe demeanor softens slightly, a curious expression that gave way to a full smile as he looks down at his guest. "My dear, what changes I have wrought in you." Continuing impishly, he leaned back, "Something you'd like? Music perhaps?
With that simple question the tone of the evening changed completely. After a sampling of Wagner and then jazz piano, the pair toasted glasses of scotch with "to the duties that bring pleasure, and to those pleasures that make duty truly worthwhile," Johannes' gaze hungry and filled with mischief. They spoke in hushed tones, conversationally sparring though neither revealed any great secret, save for Audra, who with a decidedly tantalizing grin, revealed that she already had her pilot's outfit ready. "I can provide the jacket, though I don't know if you'd fit in my clothes," Johannes murmured, his voice low and thick with want, eyes alight with devillish delight. Pointing to the armoire, he encouraged her. "Bottom drawer."
Still swaying to the music in the background, Audra bends to pull the worn leather coat out and into the warm bedroom air, shutting the drawer with the toe of her shoe. Handing the jacket to him she turned, slipping her arms through the offered sleeves, though she was caught quickly offguard by Johannes' arms around her once again from behind, this time zipping the jacket most of the way, feeling her tense slightly and hearing her breath catch. A satisfied smirk from Johannes became clearly evident as she turned, both eyeing the awkwardness of the ensemble, her fingers poking out of the too-long sleeves. A twinkle in his eye, he squared the heavy coat on her shoulders, remarking "I might have to take this up with my tailor -- my jacket is obviously far too large."
"Oh well. I suppose I ought to give it back then. This just means I will have to get one of my own."
Taking the zipper in hand, Johannes winked as he drew it down, perhaps more vigorously than required. The golden flecks in her eyes sparkled for an instant, some secret delight coming over here. His grin was nothing short of hungry as he held the seperated coat. "As much as I like the jacket on you, it definitely does not show some of your more admirable qualities, as well as you may like." Trailing his gaze up and down her frame, noting every detail of the silky blue dress, he murmured "your dress does a far better job than this bulky thing." Regaining his composure somewhat, he smiled at her. "After all, this jacket, in this size, may hamper your beautiful curls from trailing as beautifully down your face. Absentmidedly she brushed a strand of blond away from her face with the back of her hand, smiling with thanks.
"And if you do believe that I would be better suited with the jacket removed, maybe you should take it off me?" Her words were a challenge, even if her tone was a quiet permission. Stepping forward, his hands at the neck of the jacket, Johannes pushes it back and off her shoulders, their eyes locked. Close enough to again feel the heat from her skin, a sharp contrast to the normally cool flesh of a kindred, Johannes flung the jacket back into the armoire, never droping nor moving his gaze. A grin truly befitting his namesake appeared as he brought a hand up, slowly, to brush another errant strand from her face. Her voice hardly audible, she whispered as the smile crept up his face, "oh yes, I do believe you prefer the dress."
His fangs visible behind his lips, Johannes began to breath heavily, a noted change from his cool and stoic stance throughout her trip. "The best for the best, as they say" he repeats, voice filled with unchecked emotion. Surprised registered on her face, which was not lost on Johannes, as she started to speak, her gaze flitting around the room before being drawn back to his alabaster eyes. Leaning in closely he encouraged, "yes?" his voice almost raspy with breath.
Anticipation tempered only by fear positively radiated off of her. "I am only a bit overwhelmed. You have been such a diligent host..."
Closing his eyes, Johannes breathed deeply through his nose, as if smelling her fear, returning to meet her gaze with a cruel smile firmly upon his lips. "It would be an injustice to be otherwise to one so willing to be adventurous." Snickering slightly to herself at his comment, her fear grew, lingering in her perfume.
"Which is why I thank you for all that you have done for me, but I would not want to actually impose upon you," she tried to evade his gaze, looking discerningly at his wedding band.
Taking a moment to genuinely chuckle, the dark laughter filled the room and continued as he spoke. "Astrid's only regret would be that she could not be here. But your concern is greatly appreciated; none could every say you were an inattentive guest." His intent almost palpable in the air, the taste of victory almost on his lips, as he fully intended hers to be.
Narrowing her eyes suddenly, Audra's face became a mask of propriety and polite smiles, escaping his grasp. "I see. Well I am glad you and your wife have such an understanding." She quickly sidestepped and walked towards the room's exit, his gaze following though his body remained still. "May I inquire as to where I will be staying this evening?"
His back to her, head craned as far as possible such that he may see her, his voice had litle trace of the animal lust present only seconds prior, replaced with a formal coolness, though she could easily see the tenseness of his body, his ragged breaths. "I had expected you to stay here, whil I occupied the guest quarters. I tend to make preparations before they are needed."
"Through that door there?" she inquired with a small nod of her head to the room's only other door, hanging slightly ajar, darkness inside. Grinning, she giggled musically. "Then I believe I will need to make myself at home," moving to the edge of the bed and sitting.
Johannes turned to face his guest, rolling up his sleeves. Removing his watch with reverence, he placed it beside his inkwell, crossing the room, seemingly ignorant of the abject fear and terror of his guest, her breath caught suddenly in her throat, eyes wide. Stopping mid-stride, a moment of realization seems to cross his face as he nods slightly, reaching down to unroll his left sleeve, hiding the scars that began just beneath his elbow, buttoning it again at the wrist as Audra watched him, unmoving. "I'm sorry," he began, looking apologetically at her. "Though we are immortal, often that which has brought us into this life leaves its mark in the flesh."
"Hmm?" she eeked out, her eyes flashing to his. "No, I was -- it's not your scars. I--" she stumbled on the words, as if the capacity for complete thought had left her. Giving up, her gaze downcast, she merely exhaled slowly.
Crossing to the mirror, his expression curious, Johannes watched Audra in the mirror. "Are you alright?" Unbuttoning his shirt, he turned at the hesitant lack of reply. Moving to her, crouching so as to be even with her, he rolled forward slightly on the balls of his feet, looking deeply into her eyes. "You were genuinely scared; frightened then. I can still see the flush of your skin."
She broke his piercing gaze, looking down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "I meant no offense, truly. But I did visit with another of your family once. I told you before there was difficulty. I only thought," she hesitated, "there might have the same."
Standing easily, he reached out a hand to help her to her feet. Johannes continues to hold her hand as he falls to one knee with the grace of a knight of old. "I am Savage. I am Unconquered. You are my guest and I your host. To do anything that would reflect poorly upon this House or my Line has never been intended, expected, nor suggested. You are strong-willed and adventurous, and I commend that. You seek to live in teh moment and not the past nor the future. I hope one day you can acheive that, because tonight I saw something. You fear the future, and the present, because of my past. You deny the present because of the past," he reiterates, holding up his left hand, silver wedding band the unmistakable focus of his words. "I may make assumptions about you audibly and vocally, and you titter and laugh, which is delightful, but I fear your assumptions about me are far more dark than they should have ever been, even given my reputation." Standing, her hand firmly in his, he concluded his impromptu speech with conviction that in a lesser man may seem simply overzealous. In Johannes, however, she could feel his sincerity. "You are safe as long as you are in my house. Those who would do ill to you, or bear you ill will, will find themselves ended by my hand should their intent reach my ears. Including myself if need be, Baroness." He looked down at her, the strength of his conviction almost radiating from his cool skin. "I do not take the protection of those in my care lightly."
Standing almost in awe, Audra took a small breath, the gravity of his words washing over her. Gently, plainly, her eyes pleading, she looked up at him, into his cold and callous eyes. "Stay with me." Though her eyes showed she was serious, her naivete seemed to overshadow it. It was not difficult to see the toll her requiem had taken.
He watched her, unblinking eyes trying to read her sincerity, he finally nodded slightly, just once. "Perhaps I do have a means to show you my seriousness and the severity of my vows." Releasing her hand, his hands quickly work to remove his tie and unbutton his black dress shirt. His shirt unbuttoned yet still closed, he looked into her eyes without any hint of mirth or warmth. Slowly he pulled his shirt open, revealing the skin that caught the light in twisted patterns. Not the muscular build one may expect from his physical prowess and physique, but instead a knotted and savaged mass of scar tissue. Letting the shirt fall completely, the extent of his mortal injuries became fully apparent -- it was a wonder he ever survived whatever grave incidents brought ruin to his flesh. The scars eminate from somewhere on his left leg, crawling up and across his torso and left arm until they fade towards his right shoulder. Starburst patterns of skin in varying size traced otherworldly shadows in the dim bedroom light, a cruelty to them the very light seemed to be wary of illuminating.
Her eyes instinctively fell to his bared chest, her gaze following the contours of the terrible injury. Her eyes reflected pain and guilt, the latter surprising to Johannes, though he let no notice show. Silently pointing with his left hand at three points on his clothed left leg, tracing without looking the severest pattern of scars that stop halfway across his chest, he remained stoic. Remnants of old burns, obvious gunfire, including the starbursts which seem to have been though on a scale unimaginable, each reaching several inches across, and a wicked blade-scar running the length of his left collarbone were all displayed in the naked light.
His powerful arm flexing, the knotted and twisted muscle moves, having obviously never healed correctly in life. The sheer destruction evident on his body, scars laying atop one another, was both horrifying and shameful.
"Please," she began, taking a step closer to him. "You don't have to." Her tone was soft, but he could hear easily the sadness in her voice. He did not reply, standing solidly, watching her move closer. She reached out and took his hand in hers, bringing the backs of his fingers to her lips for a tender kiss. "I am sorry for your pain," she whispers, her inexplicable guilt present in every word. "And this is a new city, and unfamiliar place. Would you simply let me lie down next to you tonight?"
Johannes' only response was enfolding his guest in a tender hug, her head laying against his chest. His voice quiet, tinged with somber memories, he nodded his assent. "Nothing more than you ask, nothing less than you want."
"You've hardly stopped grinning since we landed, Baroness. I don't disapprove," he remarked, leading her to the doors.
His guest tried to pull the corners ofher mouth into a more serious facade, but after failing miserably, she simply laughed, her head falling to the side as she hugged his arm mirthfully. "I very much enjoyed that, and I believe you have convinced me to no longer prefer cars."
The doors opened wide at Johannes' gentle and gloved touch, the revealed room stunning even by kindred terms. The expansive room, taking up the majority of the floor, was opulently detailed. Art hung on the walls, lavish rugs lay before plush couches, chairs, and old-world tables. A small bar sat next to another, smaller, set of double-doors to the West, but every seat in the house had a full view of the floor-to-ceiling windows facing North, overwatching the city below, the fog crawling through the midnight streets. Audra's eye seems to catch every line, curve, and ornament as she detached from his arm to stroll the room, her hands trailing across soft fabrics and expertly-crafted hardwood. Standing with his gloved hands resting idly on a nearby couch, Johannes watched her explore the space, her eyes unreadable as she surveyed the majesty surrounding her. "Should there be anything you desire, I have little doubt arrangements could be made..." he trailed off.
Still circling the room, fingers or gaze settling on everything, she shook her head a touch. "I am quite content actually. You have already shown me so much, but I am sure my mind will soon settle and at that point I'm sure I'll think of something," she called, still exploring the room, her voice filled with innocent delight.
Johannes' gaze followed Audra, from her inquisitive glances up the spiral staircase, out the windows, and as she studied the various pieces of art on the walls. She pointed to a particular piece, a splash of red and black accented with streaks of silver, asking a silent question. "I chose very little in this room actually," he replied, joining his gest before the large piece at a slow and unhurried pace. "The contributions I have made to this hotel are in two things; security, and in that room there," he pointed offhandedly to the simple yet expensive-looking double-doors on the far wall.
His guest's gaze immediately filled with curiosity, heading towards the doors as she spoke. "And what is in that room there, if I may be so bold," brushing a fallen strand of blond away from her face.
"That is simply my room when I am not patrolling the city. And it would be a far cry to call any of your statements or actions too bold this night" came the response as he moved to follow her, unspoken overtones hanging in the air.
Giggling softly, he glanced over her shoulder at him. "I never said too bold," she murmured quietly. Quietly continuing her stroll, she continued to run her fingers against those objects in her path, lingering on most. He came up behind her as she stared out the window, his haunting image reflecting his cruel eyes as he watched her gaze over the city.
She posed a question of his history, of his thoughts. Though he sidestepped them neatly, Audra was not the woman to be so easily distracted. Pressing upon him to relay his thoughts, and how his past had brought him to that moment, his eventual response was a simple gesture towards the simple doors. "Let me show you." Her eyes quickly focused on the doors in the glass reflection, though she made no motion to move for long moments. Haltingly, she turned from the window and strode to the doors, though she stopped just before them, a hand held out slightly as if to reach for the handle, but halted. Having waited for her to move first, Johannes followed closely. His hand gently on her back, without ceremony he pushed open the doors, letting her enter before him.
The room beyond was sparsely decorated and dimly lit from small candles and a desk lamp illuminating a sheaf of black parchment, a stoppered inkwell, and a golden quill ready for use. The desk appeared to be a dark rosewood, matching the four-poster full-sized bed, armoire against the far wall, and small cupboard underneath a mirror. The room was painted a dark green, matching the carpet, though wood strips provided accents at the corners. Twin shelves sat on either side of the desk, each holding a photograph. One also held an unlit candle, the other a pistol.
Peering into the room, his guest's eyes were drawn instantly to the writing desk, taking a small desk as she notes the gilded quill and dark crimson ink. "You still write with quill and ink?" she asked, almost rhetorically. He nodded slightly, just at the corner of her vision. Without thinking, the words falling from her lips, she continued, "How old are you?" Gasping, she lifted a hand to her mouth. "I apologize, I didn't mean to, I mean ..." she stammered, trying to wave away the question with a flick of the wrist.
Johannes' answer cuts her off, both with its speed and its matter-of-fact tone, without any hint of insult. "I am old enough to know my place, and young enough to know that I may sometimes be required to overstep my boundaries to get the job done." His eyes never left hers, showing only a cold stare of duty.
Though she showed no reaction to his response, she quickly found distraction in one of the black-and-white photographs. It was a picture of Johannes during the war, helpless in a hospital. The words "Nie Wieder" emblazened in the frame. His bandages, covering his legs, torso, left arm, and neck, were soaked through in places with blood, his gaze listless and possibly unconscious. Remaining in the doorway, Johannes watched her look at the photograph, studying it. Her fingers stroked the edge of the frame, careful not to touch the glass, whispering, "Did it hurt?" Johannes did not answer.
Seemingly lost in the image for a moment, her eyes flitted over all aspects of the photograph. Finally setting it back on the shelf from whence she took it, she moved to the other photograph, this one depicting two sharply-dressed men, one a teenager and one perhaps in his mid to late twenties, on a Berlin street. She didn't touch the second image, perhaps noting the small traces of crimson dried to the glass. "I wonder who the photographer was," she remarked, though she was met with stony silence. "Who are the two men?" she asked, ignorant of the pain in his eyes.
"My sons" he whispers, jaw tightly clenched.
"Sons?" she exclaimed with obvious surprise, turning towards him and suddenly realizing the tension he held. He refused to speak, better served by silence than by the potential release of his tightly-held emotion. His guest, eyes downcast, turned and walked slowly to the doorway, though Johannes did not move for her. With neck tense, his eyes closed, and a thin trail of blood streaking down his cheek, he reached a gloved hand into the folds of his jacket, withdrawing a single folded letter, and handed it somberly to the uncertain girl before him.
With worried eyes, she scanned the few lines, mouth agape, head shaking with fear. The letter's simple contents were that Dirk Jaegerman had died while at a military academy, very recently. The stains of blood on the picture were his, she realized with no small horror. Looking quickly at her host, his eyes stared straight ahead, his face a mask of stoic duty, though his hands were clenched tightly at his sides, trembling with the rage held within.
Folding the letter with nervous fingers, she returned it to Johannes. "I don't know why you would reveal something like this to me," her tone apologetic yet genuinely innocent and curious.
With measured calm he looked to her, his eyes narrow. "You asked."
Stepping close, her eyes and voice revealed genuine appreciation. "Thank you."
Before she could say more Johannes continued from a past thought, seemingly avoiding any further conversation about his sons. "I still write with a quill. Each letter crafted as I was taught, in a style few remember but few fail to recognize. The best for the best."
Wrinking her nose with confusion, Audra pressed, "I don't understand that; 'the best for the best' of what?"
Stepping even closer to Audra, uncomfortably so given his demeanor, he gestures to each of the parchment, quill, ink, and desk. "Each tool in my arsenal is uniquely crafted to suit both my will and intent," his lips half-smiling though there was still steel in his voice. "If only all things in life were built with such care, and used with such purpose. I have composed letters to those whose words shake the very ground upon which we walk and have received high compliments for my attention to detail." Looking down at her, he continued, a passion visible in his eyes. "There is never an excuse for performance that is less than excellent." With the fire in his voice Audra took an involuntary step back, though she managed to keep her composure in the face of the towering figure before her. Squaring her shoulders, her demeanor became more professional, more courtly.
Stripping his gloves slowly and depositing them on a nearby table, for the first time in the evening his silver wedding band caught the soft light. His severe demeanor softens slightly, a curious expression that gave way to a full smile as he looks down at his guest. "My dear, what changes I have wrought in you." Continuing impishly, he leaned back, "Something you'd like? Music perhaps?
With that simple question the tone of the evening changed completely. After a sampling of Wagner and then jazz piano, the pair toasted glasses of scotch with "to the duties that bring pleasure, and to those pleasures that make duty truly worthwhile," Johannes' gaze hungry and filled with mischief. They spoke in hushed tones, conversationally sparring though neither revealed any great secret, save for Audra, who with a decidedly tantalizing grin, revealed that she already had her pilot's outfit ready. "I can provide the jacket, though I don't know if you'd fit in my clothes," Johannes murmured, his voice low and thick with want, eyes alight with devillish delight. Pointing to the armoire, he encouraged her. "Bottom drawer."
Still swaying to the music in the background, Audra bends to pull the worn leather coat out and into the warm bedroom air, shutting the drawer with the toe of her shoe. Handing the jacket to him she turned, slipping her arms through the offered sleeves, though she was caught quickly offguard by Johannes' arms around her once again from behind, this time zipping the jacket most of the way, feeling her tense slightly and hearing her breath catch. A satisfied smirk from Johannes became clearly evident as she turned, both eyeing the awkwardness of the ensemble, her fingers poking out of the too-long sleeves. A twinkle in his eye, he squared the heavy coat on her shoulders, remarking "I might have to take this up with my tailor -- my jacket is obviously far too large."
"Oh well. I suppose I ought to give it back then. This just means I will have to get one of my own."
Taking the zipper in hand, Johannes winked as he drew it down, perhaps more vigorously than required. The golden flecks in her eyes sparkled for an instant, some secret delight coming over here. His grin was nothing short of hungry as he held the seperated coat. "As much as I like the jacket on you, it definitely does not show some of your more admirable qualities, as well as you may like." Trailing his gaze up and down her frame, noting every detail of the silky blue dress, he murmured "your dress does a far better job than this bulky thing." Regaining his composure somewhat, he smiled at her. "After all, this jacket, in this size, may hamper your beautiful curls from trailing as beautifully down your face. Absentmidedly she brushed a strand of blond away from her face with the back of her hand, smiling with thanks.
"And if you do believe that I would be better suited with the jacket removed, maybe you should take it off me?" Her words were a challenge, even if her tone was a quiet permission. Stepping forward, his hands at the neck of the jacket, Johannes pushes it back and off her shoulders, their eyes locked. Close enough to again feel the heat from her skin, a sharp contrast to the normally cool flesh of a kindred, Johannes flung the jacket back into the armoire, never droping nor moving his gaze. A grin truly befitting his namesake appeared as he brought a hand up, slowly, to brush another errant strand from her face. Her voice hardly audible, she whispered as the smile crept up his face, "oh yes, I do believe you prefer the dress."
His fangs visible behind his lips, Johannes began to breath heavily, a noted change from his cool and stoic stance throughout her trip. "The best for the best, as they say" he repeats, voice filled with unchecked emotion. Surprised registered on her face, which was not lost on Johannes, as she started to speak, her gaze flitting around the room before being drawn back to his alabaster eyes. Leaning in closely he encouraged, "yes?" his voice almost raspy with breath.
Anticipation tempered only by fear positively radiated off of her. "I am only a bit overwhelmed. You have been such a diligent host..."
Closing his eyes, Johannes breathed deeply through his nose, as if smelling her fear, returning to meet her gaze with a cruel smile firmly upon his lips. "It would be an injustice to be otherwise to one so willing to be adventurous." Snickering slightly to herself at his comment, her fear grew, lingering in her perfume.
"Which is why I thank you for all that you have done for me, but I would not want to actually impose upon you," she tried to evade his gaze, looking discerningly at his wedding band.
Taking a moment to genuinely chuckle, the dark laughter filled the room and continued as he spoke. "Astrid's only regret would be that she could not be here. But your concern is greatly appreciated; none could every say you were an inattentive guest." His intent almost palpable in the air, the taste of victory almost on his lips, as he fully intended hers to be.
Narrowing her eyes suddenly, Audra's face became a mask of propriety and polite smiles, escaping his grasp. "I see. Well I am glad you and your wife have such an understanding." She quickly sidestepped and walked towards the room's exit, his gaze following though his body remained still. "May I inquire as to where I will be staying this evening?"
His back to her, head craned as far as possible such that he may see her, his voice had litle trace of the animal lust present only seconds prior, replaced with a formal coolness, though she could easily see the tenseness of his body, his ragged breaths. "I had expected you to stay here, whil I occupied the guest quarters. I tend to make preparations before they are needed."
"Through that door there?" she inquired with a small nod of her head to the room's only other door, hanging slightly ajar, darkness inside. Grinning, she giggled musically. "Then I believe I will need to make myself at home," moving to the edge of the bed and sitting.
Johannes turned to face his guest, rolling up his sleeves. Removing his watch with reverence, he placed it beside his inkwell, crossing the room, seemingly ignorant of the abject fear and terror of his guest, her breath caught suddenly in her throat, eyes wide. Stopping mid-stride, a moment of realization seems to cross his face as he nods slightly, reaching down to unroll his left sleeve, hiding the scars that began just beneath his elbow, buttoning it again at the wrist as Audra watched him, unmoving. "I'm sorry," he began, looking apologetically at her. "Though we are immortal, often that which has brought us into this life leaves its mark in the flesh."
"Hmm?" she eeked out, her eyes flashing to his. "No, I was -- it's not your scars. I--" she stumbled on the words, as if the capacity for complete thought had left her. Giving up, her gaze downcast, she merely exhaled slowly.
Crossing to the mirror, his expression curious, Johannes watched Audra in the mirror. "Are you alright?" Unbuttoning his shirt, he turned at the hesitant lack of reply. Moving to her, crouching so as to be even with her, he rolled forward slightly on the balls of his feet, looking deeply into her eyes. "You were genuinely scared; frightened then. I can still see the flush of your skin."
She broke his piercing gaze, looking down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "I meant no offense, truly. But I did visit with another of your family once. I told you before there was difficulty. I only thought," she hesitated, "there might have the same."
Standing easily, he reached out a hand to help her to her feet. Johannes continues to hold her hand as he falls to one knee with the grace of a knight of old. "I am Savage. I am Unconquered. You are my guest and I your host. To do anything that would reflect poorly upon this House or my Line has never been intended, expected, nor suggested. You are strong-willed and adventurous, and I commend that. You seek to live in teh moment and not the past nor the future. I hope one day you can acheive that, because tonight I saw something. You fear the future, and the present, because of my past. You deny the present because of the past," he reiterates, holding up his left hand, silver wedding band the unmistakable focus of his words. "I may make assumptions about you audibly and vocally, and you titter and laugh, which is delightful, but I fear your assumptions about me are far more dark than they should have ever been, even given my reputation." Standing, her hand firmly in his, he concluded his impromptu speech with conviction that in a lesser man may seem simply overzealous. In Johannes, however, she could feel his sincerity. "You are safe as long as you are in my house. Those who would do ill to you, or bear you ill will, will find themselves ended by my hand should their intent reach my ears. Including myself if need be, Baroness." He looked down at her, the strength of his conviction almost radiating from his cool skin. "I do not take the protection of those in my care lightly."
Standing almost in awe, Audra took a small breath, the gravity of his words washing over her. Gently, plainly, her eyes pleading, she looked up at him, into his cold and callous eyes. "Stay with me." Though her eyes showed she was serious, her naivete seemed to overshadow it. It was not difficult to see the toll her requiem had taken.
He watched her, unblinking eyes trying to read her sincerity, he finally nodded slightly, just once. "Perhaps I do have a means to show you my seriousness and the severity of my vows." Releasing her hand, his hands quickly work to remove his tie and unbutton his black dress shirt. His shirt unbuttoned yet still closed, he looked into her eyes without any hint of mirth or warmth. Slowly he pulled his shirt open, revealing the skin that caught the light in twisted patterns. Not the muscular build one may expect from his physical prowess and physique, but instead a knotted and savaged mass of scar tissue. Letting the shirt fall completely, the extent of his mortal injuries became fully apparent -- it was a wonder he ever survived whatever grave incidents brought ruin to his flesh. The scars eminate from somewhere on his left leg, crawling up and across his torso and left arm until they fade towards his right shoulder. Starburst patterns of skin in varying size traced otherworldly shadows in the dim bedroom light, a cruelty to them the very light seemed to be wary of illuminating.
Her eyes instinctively fell to his bared chest, her gaze following the contours of the terrible injury. Her eyes reflected pain and guilt, the latter surprising to Johannes, though he let no notice show. Silently pointing with his left hand at three points on his clothed left leg, tracing without looking the severest pattern of scars that stop halfway across his chest, he remained stoic. Remnants of old burns, obvious gunfire, including the starbursts which seem to have been though on a scale unimaginable, each reaching several inches across, and a wicked blade-scar running the length of his left collarbone were all displayed in the naked light.
His powerful arm flexing, the knotted and twisted muscle moves, having obviously never healed correctly in life. The sheer destruction evident on his body, scars laying atop one another, was both horrifying and shameful.
"Please," she began, taking a step closer to him. "You don't have to." Her tone was soft, but he could hear easily the sadness in her voice. He did not reply, standing solidly, watching her move closer. She reached out and took his hand in hers, bringing the backs of his fingers to her lips for a tender kiss. "I am sorry for your pain," she whispers, her inexplicable guilt present in every word. "And this is a new city, and unfamiliar place. Would you simply let me lie down next to you tonight?"
Johannes' only response was enfolding his guest in a tender hug, her head laying against his chest. His voice quiet, tinged with somber memories, he nodded his assent. "Nothing more than you ask, nothing less than you want."