Post by caseylefay on Jun 19, 2011 23:53:46 GMT -6
(This is quite a bit longer than I intended, but if you can bring yourself to read it all, it is an introduction to the world of a vampire who is having to make the choice to leave or be discovered by humans. Anyone feel free to join in as human or vampire. You are welcome to take over any characters I've mentioned in passing here, or to make new ones. The central dilemma of the whole story does not have to be the one described here; this is only her problem. I do so love world-saving problems, I just couldn't work one in yet. Feel free to e-mail, PM, or IM me to discuss! Following posts obviously do NOT have to be this long. )
Aurelia Crane sat in bright July sunlight in Central Park, perched crossed legged on the edge of the Angel of the Waters fountain in the center of Bethesda Terrace. She faced The Lake, upon which dozens of sunburned families floated in tiny boats. Little pieces of their conversation and laughter floated along the water to mix with other sounds. Somewhere behind her, on the opposite side of the fountain and coming down the stairs from the upper terrace, a child was begging for a treat from the concession stand. Next to the stairs and under the upper terrace, a cellist took advantage of the acoustics in the Arcade. Aurelia took in all the sounds of the Terrace that were overlain by the rushing gurgle and splash of the water in the fountain. Each laugh, whine, and music note was supremely human, something that she was not, but that she reveled in.
The wide, red hat tipped over her head did much to protect her vampire skin from the sun, and thin gloves helped where her the long sleeves of her dress did not. Today she wore an Old West costume, one of her favorite creations, and the tourists couldn't help themselves. They stood around her in a semicircle, though this was probably as much to watch what she was doing as to gawk at her appearance. On a large felt cushion in her lap dangled 30 colorful bobbins attached to minuscule threads that she wound and twisted to make lace. It was a delicate process, one that few people bothered with anymore. It was a skill she had mastered long ago, and she loved sitting in the sun to do it; the threads were easier to work if there was plenty of light. Over time she had gotten used to squinting enough that high summer sunlight was bearable, and out on the terrace with the light sparkling off the water from the fountain and lake, her eyes were very nearly shut. Wearing sunglasses defeated the purpose, and the tourists loved watching the lady who made lace with her eyes closed. Luckily for her the locals were used to odd folk hanging around, and Aurelia was never really bothered.
"What fuckin' weirdo," she heard a man say quietly. She could tell he was a tourist from an accent in his voice. Aurelia heard comments like it every now and then, but she was never sure if human ears could have heard it.
In her peripheral vision, she saw an elderly woman look up with the offended gaze only a grandmother could muster. Apparently human ears, even old lady ears, could hear it.
"Yeah, what are you lookin' at?" the man said.
The woman tossed her head, stuck her nose in the air, and walked away, passing in front of Aurelia. A wrinkled hand patted her on the arm, and a quarter slid into her lap. Sometimes the tourists did that, mistaking her for a street performer and giving her spare change. Whenever it happened, as she did now, she let go of the bobbins and retrieved the coin, flipping it over her head and into the fountain. A quiet clunk sounded.
"What did you wish for?" a young girl asked. She was standing just yards away with her family, directly in front of Aurelia. The vampire could hear the girl's heart beating quickly, its owner nervous about having spoken to a stranger.
As Aurelia sorted out her bobbins, she shrugged and smiled. "If I told you, it wouldn't come true." There was something in the way she said it that stopped the girl from asking again, but the heart beat slowed and the family walked away, forgetting Aurelia and looking for more Tuesday distractions.
As the end of the day neared, Aurelia bundled up her belongings into an over-sized knitting bag. Friends from the theater company she worked for were meeting for a drink, and she wanted to change into her newest garment, a silver flapper dress that had taken hours to put together because of all the sequins. For a normal person it might take days, but Aurelia was a vampire, and vampires did things quickly when human eyes weren't looking.
As she ventured home to her below-ground apartment, changed, and applied makeup, she could not get the image of the old wrinkled hand out of her mind. Thick blue veins full of warm blood that was on its way back to a heart that still beat, however weak it did so; spider veins and sunspots, skin paper thin, wrinkles deep and lasting; the old woman probably thought they were ugly, but Aurelia thought they were beautiful. Perfect. Part of what she'd wished for as she tossed the quarter into the fountain. Her own hands were smooth and unchanging.
Aurelia blinked, realized she had been applying lipstick for more than a minute, and hurried to blot it. She considered the feather headpiece that went with the dress, but didn't want to go to the trouble of pinning up all her hair for the full effect. She simply left her long red hair with the curls from the day's costume. As she walked outside and up the stairs to the sidewalk, she saw the middle-aged mother that lived above her peeking through a window. The woman had gotten more and more curious, and so had other neighbors. She couldn't blame them. She'd been there for nearly ten years, and nothing was changing. It never did.
Aurelia left, mulling it over on the subway. It had been circling around her head: when she'd moved here, she told herself ten years was the maximum time she had before she needed to get out. The plan was to see if she could live among humans, and if it went well, leave at the end of ten years and try again to find other vampires. But she'd made a life, and had friends (even if they were human), and a job (even vampires need jobs, else they start stealing and killing for no reason), and no one had seemed overly suspicious. At least not yet.
It took her fifteen minutes to reach the restaurant, and she found her friends at the bar. Her closest friend, as close a human friend as a vampire could have, smiled and threw her arms around Aurelia as she exclaimed over the flapper dress. A few others from the company did the same. It was always a difficulty, humans being so touchy feely, but Aurelia found that her care for these people overshadowed any want she had for their blood. Years of practice had given her control.
"Look who's here!" the woman said, pointing.
Aurelia turned, and approaching was a man she wished to never see again, a human who had tried to court her when she first arrived in New York. In the span of a second she noticed tiny changes: a few gray hairs, a bit of crows feet, irises a little lighter green than they had been.
"Aurelia," he said and he kissed her on the cheek. "You haven't changed a bit." His smile was too warm and sincere, and his hand lingered too long on her shoulder.
Oh, yes, she would be leaving New York. But to go where?
Aurelia Crane sat in bright July sunlight in Central Park, perched crossed legged on the edge of the Angel of the Waters fountain in the center of Bethesda Terrace. She faced The Lake, upon which dozens of sunburned families floated in tiny boats. Little pieces of their conversation and laughter floated along the water to mix with other sounds. Somewhere behind her, on the opposite side of the fountain and coming down the stairs from the upper terrace, a child was begging for a treat from the concession stand. Next to the stairs and under the upper terrace, a cellist took advantage of the acoustics in the Arcade. Aurelia took in all the sounds of the Terrace that were overlain by the rushing gurgle and splash of the water in the fountain. Each laugh, whine, and music note was supremely human, something that she was not, but that she reveled in.
The wide, red hat tipped over her head did much to protect her vampire skin from the sun, and thin gloves helped where her the long sleeves of her dress did not. Today she wore an Old West costume, one of her favorite creations, and the tourists couldn't help themselves. They stood around her in a semicircle, though this was probably as much to watch what she was doing as to gawk at her appearance. On a large felt cushion in her lap dangled 30 colorful bobbins attached to minuscule threads that she wound and twisted to make lace. It was a delicate process, one that few people bothered with anymore. It was a skill she had mastered long ago, and she loved sitting in the sun to do it; the threads were easier to work if there was plenty of light. Over time she had gotten used to squinting enough that high summer sunlight was bearable, and out on the terrace with the light sparkling off the water from the fountain and lake, her eyes were very nearly shut. Wearing sunglasses defeated the purpose, and the tourists loved watching the lady who made lace with her eyes closed. Luckily for her the locals were used to odd folk hanging around, and Aurelia was never really bothered.
"What fuckin' weirdo," she heard a man say quietly. She could tell he was a tourist from an accent in his voice. Aurelia heard comments like it every now and then, but she was never sure if human ears could have heard it.
In her peripheral vision, she saw an elderly woman look up with the offended gaze only a grandmother could muster. Apparently human ears, even old lady ears, could hear it.
"Yeah, what are you lookin' at?" the man said.
The woman tossed her head, stuck her nose in the air, and walked away, passing in front of Aurelia. A wrinkled hand patted her on the arm, and a quarter slid into her lap. Sometimes the tourists did that, mistaking her for a street performer and giving her spare change. Whenever it happened, as she did now, she let go of the bobbins and retrieved the coin, flipping it over her head and into the fountain. A quiet clunk sounded.
"What did you wish for?" a young girl asked. She was standing just yards away with her family, directly in front of Aurelia. The vampire could hear the girl's heart beating quickly, its owner nervous about having spoken to a stranger.
As Aurelia sorted out her bobbins, she shrugged and smiled. "If I told you, it wouldn't come true." There was something in the way she said it that stopped the girl from asking again, but the heart beat slowed and the family walked away, forgetting Aurelia and looking for more Tuesday distractions.
As the end of the day neared, Aurelia bundled up her belongings into an over-sized knitting bag. Friends from the theater company she worked for were meeting for a drink, and she wanted to change into her newest garment, a silver flapper dress that had taken hours to put together because of all the sequins. For a normal person it might take days, but Aurelia was a vampire, and vampires did things quickly when human eyes weren't looking.
As she ventured home to her below-ground apartment, changed, and applied makeup, she could not get the image of the old wrinkled hand out of her mind. Thick blue veins full of warm blood that was on its way back to a heart that still beat, however weak it did so; spider veins and sunspots, skin paper thin, wrinkles deep and lasting; the old woman probably thought they were ugly, but Aurelia thought they were beautiful. Perfect. Part of what she'd wished for as she tossed the quarter into the fountain. Her own hands were smooth and unchanging.
Aurelia blinked, realized she had been applying lipstick for more than a minute, and hurried to blot it. She considered the feather headpiece that went with the dress, but didn't want to go to the trouble of pinning up all her hair for the full effect. She simply left her long red hair with the curls from the day's costume. As she walked outside and up the stairs to the sidewalk, she saw the middle-aged mother that lived above her peeking through a window. The woman had gotten more and more curious, and so had other neighbors. She couldn't blame them. She'd been there for nearly ten years, and nothing was changing. It never did.
Aurelia left, mulling it over on the subway. It had been circling around her head: when she'd moved here, she told herself ten years was the maximum time she had before she needed to get out. The plan was to see if she could live among humans, and if it went well, leave at the end of ten years and try again to find other vampires. But she'd made a life, and had friends (even if they were human), and a job (even vampires need jobs, else they start stealing and killing for no reason), and no one had seemed overly suspicious. At least not yet.
It took her fifteen minutes to reach the restaurant, and she found her friends at the bar. Her closest friend, as close a human friend as a vampire could have, smiled and threw her arms around Aurelia as she exclaimed over the flapper dress. A few others from the company did the same. It was always a difficulty, humans being so touchy feely, but Aurelia found that her care for these people overshadowed any want she had for their blood. Years of practice had given her control.
"Look who's here!" the woman said, pointing.
Aurelia turned, and approaching was a man she wished to never see again, a human who had tried to court her when she first arrived in New York. In the span of a second she noticed tiny changes: a few gray hairs, a bit of crows feet, irises a little lighter green than they had been.
"Aurelia," he said and he kissed her on the cheek. "You haven't changed a bit." His smile was too warm and sincere, and his hand lingered too long on her shoulder.
Oh, yes, she would be leaving New York. But to go where?