Blossom to E5 - Choosing to play.
His eyes were sincere as he looked up at her. The way he knelt before her and clasped her hand within his reminded her of ages past.
I'm considering sleeping.
Eyes that had known her longer than she remembered darkened as he considered her words. There was an emotion growing in those familiar eyes. Pity.
It was definitely time to sleep. One simple nap to halt the pain, to stop the memories, and to remove that look of pity. The game was unplayable. She had lost her ability to see the board and her skill to play. They must be waiting in her dreams. It was time to prepare; she'd meet with her house, say goodbye to her children, and face a new world. But such things took time; the world was not fond of waiting.
The plane returned her home slightly before dawn, and wisked her away soon as the lack of sun allowed. The traffic caused her to almost be late for the gather - it would have been a shame. She had bought new jeans specially for the latest of the Prince's plots to combat boredom. At first she had scoffed at his unconventional methods of ruling a domain, yet there was a wild joy in racing a lawnmower with a bunch of other supernatural creatures.
It was a brief flicker of excitement in a sea of melancholy. Vivian knew she had lost the great game, and no amount of efforts of an elder to fight his neverending boredom could pierce that. No elder could get through to her - but his young retainer had no such problems.
The moral walking through the clubhouse grabbed her attention; food was always so easy to spot. He wanted to see the Prince, she wanted to make sure it went smoothly, so soon the mortal was eating out of her hand. She had intended for him to like her, or even adore her, but he had completely crumbled under her will. The pathetic little creature left, madly seeking anything she could desire. He returned with a pink blossom made of dozens of tiny individual flowers and a set of car keys. He was almost bursting with pride when he showed her the car; one of the Prince's vehicles sat in the parking lot, freshly spray-painted bright pink.
She found the mortals attention adorable, if a bit annoying. The Prince found it unacceptable. He destroyed the car she had been gifted, tearing it into pieces with his hands, before carrying the engine block inside and depositing it upon his retainer. He brushed his hands together, trying to get rid of the oil, and with it seemed to flow his anger. Calmly, the Prince picked up one of the individual flowers that had fallen from the large blossom and carefully handed it back to Vivian. Their eyes met as the small flower exchanged hands.
She held it for the rest of the evening. The casual chatter of court went on around them, the moronic occurrences that could only occur within the realm of the Bermuda Triangle and a bored elder Prince. The bright pink flower twirled between her fingers as she replayed those brief ten minutes over and over again.
Finally, she smiled. It was her first real smile of the night, but no one there would know the difference. The longest ruling Prince in the Americas had just destroyed a car and potentially killed a retainer. Why? Because the retainer liked her. She knew that in his mind it was fitting that he be destroyed by the very gift he had given to the woman he idolized. A flippant exchange between his coterie-mate's ghoul and herself solidified events in her mind.
Jealousy. The Prince was jealous.
The smile pulled a little wider across her face. Perhaps, perhaps she could play this game after all. In fact, perhaps she already was. The fact they called themselves the Unconquered had always been ironic to her...and perhaps it was time she remembered that.
Perhaps.
I'm considering sleeping.
Eyes that had known her longer than she remembered darkened as he considered her words. There was an emotion growing in those familiar eyes. Pity.
It was definitely time to sleep. One simple nap to halt the pain, to stop the memories, and to remove that look of pity. The game was unplayable. She had lost her ability to see the board and her skill to play. They must be waiting in her dreams. It was time to prepare; she'd meet with her house, say goodbye to her children, and face a new world. But such things took time; the world was not fond of waiting.
The plane returned her home slightly before dawn, and wisked her away soon as the lack of sun allowed. The traffic caused her to almost be late for the gather - it would have been a shame. She had bought new jeans specially for the latest of the Prince's plots to combat boredom. At first she had scoffed at his unconventional methods of ruling a domain, yet there was a wild joy in racing a lawnmower with a bunch of other supernatural creatures.
It was a brief flicker of excitement in a sea of melancholy. Vivian knew she had lost the great game, and no amount of efforts of an elder to fight his neverending boredom could pierce that. No elder could get through to her - but his young retainer had no such problems.
The moral walking through the clubhouse grabbed her attention; food was always so easy to spot. He wanted to see the Prince, she wanted to make sure it went smoothly, so soon the mortal was eating out of her hand. She had intended for him to like her, or even adore her, but he had completely crumbled under her will. The pathetic little creature left, madly seeking anything she could desire. He returned with a pink blossom made of dozens of tiny individual flowers and a set of car keys. He was almost bursting with pride when he showed her the car; one of the Prince's vehicles sat in the parking lot, freshly spray-painted bright pink.
She found the mortals attention adorable, if a bit annoying. The Prince found it unacceptable. He destroyed the car she had been gifted, tearing it into pieces with his hands, before carrying the engine block inside and depositing it upon his retainer. He brushed his hands together, trying to get rid of the oil, and with it seemed to flow his anger. Calmly, the Prince picked up one of the individual flowers that had fallen from the large blossom and carefully handed it back to Vivian. Their eyes met as the small flower exchanged hands.
She held it for the rest of the evening. The casual chatter of court went on around them, the moronic occurrences that could only occur within the realm of the Bermuda Triangle and a bored elder Prince. The bright pink flower twirled between her fingers as she replayed those brief ten minutes over and over again.
Finally, she smiled. It was her first real smile of the night, but no one there would know the difference. The longest ruling Prince in the Americas had just destroyed a car and potentially killed a retainer. Why? Because the retainer liked her. She knew that in his mind it was fitting that he be destroyed by the very gift he had given to the woman he idolized. A flippant exchange between his coterie-mate's ghoul and herself solidified events in her mind.
Jealousy. The Prince was jealous.
The smile pulled a little wider across her face. Perhaps, perhaps she could play this game after all. In fact, perhaps she already was. The fact they called themselves the Unconquered had always been ironic to her...and perhaps it was time she remembered that.
Perhaps.