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Roland studied the humans seated about him. How simple and facile they all were. How bovine. How easy to lead. Their clothes were all of a 'type.' The males sported regulation dress-down-Friday regalia. The females secure in their variations on a Banana Republic theme. And their expressions.....that was the worst part. How practiced they were. So superficially secure. Males feigned indulgent boredom. The females did appear slightly eager, but in a polite, artificially, non-judgmental way, like they were ready to go 'tsk, tsk, tsk' and roll their eyes behind your back.
But one face looked different. It belonged to a man seated in the inglenook. That alone advertised his distance from the rest. Perhaps it was the goatee? Well, not quite a goatee. More like a van dyke. He seemed at ease and not in the least bit embarrassed to be there. So Roland picked him first........ You, there - he said, What would you like to know?............... The man took a breath, collected his thoughts and said - Are you happy?.........Roland was surprised. People never ask that. They want blood. They want magic. They want sex........ He answered. He said - In what way, as a child on a swing, or a saint before his death?........... The man reconsidered. He changed his question. He said - Well. maybe 'happy' is the wrong term. Let me put it this way..... are you satisfied?.............. The confines of the warm, dim, salon seemed to retreat and freeze as time forgot to pass...... Roland contemplated the small orange fire dancing in the hearth, but his mind saw other things, torturous things, ancient things, buried things.....and he quietly said - I do not know.
A woman with an artificial tan said - Oh, Jesus Christ! What are you doing? Do you have to get so heavy? What do you want to do, make the pixie cry!? Shut up, already.
Roland thought - 'Pixie' she calls me......... And he leapt up onto the wall, splayed like a leopard, as his body reverberated with a deep, throbbing, guttural growl. The fragile humans pressed back into their seats, prey before the hunter, as his eyes tore through their flesh....... Five heartbeats later it was over. He laughed, blinked, deftly bounded to the floor ( not a knick-knack so much as trembled) , executed a rather theatrical bow and said - Now, I am........
The wealthy ticket holders grinned and clapped. How dramatic. How appropriate. How 'right' for a dashing, well-formed, juvenile vampirino. For that is what Elves truly are, vampires harvested from the living on the cusp of sexual maturation. Raging hormones cause certain bodily appendages to grow, even after 'death,' thus the pointed ears, vulpine features...and other things.
Please, your questions will be addressed- he said. Permit me to introduce a soul mate...... And he gestured toward an exterior wall, as the Lady Marianne sublimated into the room......
Boy, were those tickets ever worth it........
^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^
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But one face looked different. It belonged to a man seated in the inglenook. That alone advertised his distance from the rest. Perhaps it was the goatee? Well, not quite a goatee. More like a van dyke. He seemed at ease and not in the least bit embarrassed to be there. So Roland picked him first........ You, there - he said, What would you like to know?............... The man took a breath, collected his thoughts and said - Are you happy?.........Roland was surprised. People never ask that. They want blood. They want magic. They want sex........ He answered. He said - In what way, as a child on a swing, or a saint before his death?........... The man reconsidered. He changed his question. He said - Well. maybe 'happy' is the wrong term. Let me put it this way..... are you satisfied?.............. The confines of the warm, dim, salon seemed to retreat and freeze as time forgot to pass...... Roland contemplated the small orange fire dancing in the hearth, but his mind saw other things, torturous things, ancient things, buried things.....and he quietly said - I do not know.
A woman with an artificial tan said - Oh, Jesus Christ! What are you doing? Do you have to get so heavy? What do you want to do, make the pixie cry!? Shut up, already.
Roland thought - 'Pixie' she calls me......... And he leapt up onto the wall, splayed like a leopard, as his body reverberated with a deep, throbbing, guttural growl. The fragile humans pressed back into their seats, prey before the hunter, as his eyes tore through their flesh....... Five heartbeats later it was over. He laughed, blinked, deftly bounded to the floor ( not a knick-knack so much as trembled) , executed a rather theatrical bow and said - Now, I am........
The wealthy ticket holders grinned and clapped. How dramatic. How appropriate. How 'right' for a dashing, well-formed, juvenile vampirino. For that is what Elves truly are, vampires harvested from the living on the cusp of sexual maturation. Raging hormones cause certain bodily appendages to grow, even after 'death,' thus the pointed ears, vulpine features...and other things.
Please, your questions will be addressed- he said. Permit me to introduce a soul mate...... And he gestured toward an exterior wall, as the Lady Marianne sublimated into the room......
Boy, were those tickets ever worth it........
^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^
please hit the SHARE button down below. it's simple and self explanatory. favor us with a COMMENT, if you will. and thank you very much.
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