the devil take this orpheus

birdie · Nov 10, 2016

A week had passed.

Aldric was no closer to figuring out his feelings.

The entire situation was beyond comprehension. It was not out of the realm of possibility, but if he had been asked, eight days ago, whether he thought this might happen, he would have responded with an indulging laugh and a solid no. Johann ought to have been in Germany, his body six feet under the ground and his spirit in some other more pleasant world.

And for Johann to have loved him in life—

It changed everything.

For the past seven days, he had searched through his journals; he was militant about his journal-keeping, and had written every day—with a few rare exceptions—for as long as he had lived. As he sifted through the old books, he could not read passages about Johann without taking the new knowledge his former employee’s affection into account.

After much searching, he found the journal he needed. That night, after his class ended, at around three in the morning, he headed to the library, holding the book at his side. Johann stood at the desk, checking in books.

“Good evening,” he said.

Muramura · Nov 10, 2016

To say that Johann was not coping well was an understatement. All week he had worked non-stop, trying to bury himself in activity to keep his mind occupied.

After a certain point though, it was useless. No matter what he was doing, his mind would slip back to the fact that Herr Reinhardt was here. They saw each other, they...conversed. Processing the night's interactions inspired such a conflict of emotion within him, all he could do was stew. It wasn't as if it was possible for him to find some place to sleep it off. The closest thing he could get was going completely invisible and inaudible, but even then...his mind still whirred along, pursuing unhelpful paths of thought.

Once he had resorted the nonfiction section for the fifth time, his co-workers had herded him over to the circulation desk. He tried to protest, but they wouldn't hear it, and so he resigned himself to sorting the recently returned books and getting them ready for shelving. It was a lot less preoccupying than he would have liked. His mind kept wandering.

Hearing footsteps, he glanced up and subsequently froze. Johann thought the shock of seeing the vampire would have faded by now, but alas, he was clearly wrong. The ache in his chest flared gradually. However, he managed this time to maintain something resembling a calm facade, with only the corners of his mouth quirking uncertainly.

"Good evening," The soft timbre of his voice lilted, "How has the infirmary been?" Somehow, it was easier to inquire about Aldric's place of work than about the man himself.

birdie · Nov 10, 2016

Before Johann glanced up, Aldric knew he would see his face—and yet, even knowing this, something inside his chest fell open upon seeing him. It was not an opening like a rip or a tear, nor was it an opening like a piercing wound; it was an opening more like a curtain slowly being peeled back, revealing light.

"The infirmary has been well," he said. "It's slow at night. I just finished with my class, and they're fine students."

He looked away, then, to look about the library. It was grand, and quiet at night, though he imagined even at this hour students were tucked away working as the end of the semester neared.

"And how has the library been? Are they returning their books on time?"

Muramura · Nov 15, 2016

Listening intently, Johann tilted his head attentively towards the vampire, though his gold gaze found other things to linger on — namely the bookshelves in the distance behind his old mentor. The undercurrent of hurt roiled within him, harsh waves crashing against the edges of his psyche. Time had not dulled the pain, it had only bolstered the strength of will necessary to not fall to pieces all over again.

"That is good," He mused, his tone amicable enough considering his inward turmoil. "The library has been well also, I am happy to see that most of the student body treats books with the respect they deserve."

A pause then, and he forced himself to regard Herr Reinhardt. Subtly, he inhaled a short breath before speaking again.

"How may I be of service this evening?"

The inquiry ached with nostalgia, and he pursed his lips slightly to keep himself from frowning.

birdie · Nov 15, 2016

How may I be of service, Johann asked, and Aldric's skin felt tight over his bones as a bitter nostalgia creeped in. He sighed before he meant to, and though it wasn't a heavy sigh, he regretted to express any sign of even the smallest irritation.

It wasn't even quite irritation that he felt—he felt the claws of the past sinking into him, and he wanted it to be gone. He had moved on with his life, and Johann—Johann hadn't. Couldn't, maybe.

"You needn't be of any service," said Aldric. His words were slow, and weighted in a way he hoped Johann would heed.

"I'm here for personal reasons," he said. "I… hoped you might take a look at something I brought."

Aldric walked closer to the desk, and placed down his personal journal. Its cover was worn, and so were its pages, though it was hardly fragile. He had taken good care of it.

"This is the journal I kept," he said, flipping open to a certain page, "at the time you died.

"I came to prove my innocence. Would you be willing to look at my entry from that terrible day?"

Muramura · Nov 20, 2016

The sigh, scant as it was, was enough to set him on a path of doubt. In life, he hadn't been quite so focused on his flaws or missteps, but now — especially with that lingering ache within him — anything and everything was enough to set him on edge. He endeavored to ignore it however, with only a minute furrow of his brow showing his concern.

"...I see..." Johann's voice was soft, low. He couldn't help but be taken aback at this display, foreign as it was. His amber gaze drifted to the journal placed before him, and without realizing it he leaned back slightly. Here was something he had yearned after so often when his heart beat — a glimpse into the vampire's inner thoughts and workings — yet now...now it felt dangerous and frightful.

Yet, despite how wary his wounded psyche was, he couldn't resist obliging the request. Morbid curiosity nagged at him, mingling with the ever-present hurt.

"I would be," The ghost intoned quietly, "but...not here. Let us go to one of the reading nooks."

As presumptuous as it was, Johann stepped around the circulation desk and lead the way to their destination, leaving the journal for the blonde to retrieve. He didn't feel comfortable picking it up himself just yet. His silent gait brought them to a secluded table tucked away amidst the bookshelves.

Despite the fact that he was quite incorporeal, the ghost still primly pantomimed pulling out a chair and seating himself smoothly, crossing one leg over the other, head tilted patiently.

birdie · Nov 22, 2016

Much to his surprise, Johann agreed. He hadn’t anticipated that; he expected he might have to convince him, which would have presented numerous other problems, given what his own powers were. Despite his surprise, Aldric’s face remained as stoic as ever; his eyebrows did not even lift. Instead he nodded, appearing solemn—he hoped that his own desperation had not somehow triggered his abilities to persuade.

Johann left the circulation desk. Aldric picked up his journal and followed. The reading nook was far away from everyone else, tucked away in a secluded and quiet spot. He pulled out the chair opposite Johann and sat down, his back straight and his posture impeccable.

He placed the journal on the table, and met Johann’s eyes. He recalled how the items in the infirmary had shot about the room due to his emotional state. Aldric glanced at the shelves surrounding them.

He would take his chances.

“As you may know,” he began, “I enjoy journal writing. I have, for nearly every day of my life, written a journal entry—some smaller or longer than others—and I have kept each of them so that I can go back and reminisce, if I wish. My longterm memory is not the best, but this helps me keep track of things.”

Opening the journal again to the correct page, Adlric turned the journal toward Johann. The page to the right, with the entry dated with the day of Johann’s death, read:

[I was too late.]

On the page to the left—from the day before his death—there were a few long paragraphs, with a few snippets that might also catch Johann’s eye:

[… He has been acting strangely, for a reason I cannot decipher; I have feared perhaps he means to quit and live his life elsewhere, yet he does not know how to tell me…

… It frustrates me greatly…

… If he should desire to leave, I cannot keep him—but should I tell him what I know? …

… A mess; how dissatisfying… ]

Muramura · Nov 22, 2016

The ghost sat, amber gaze fixated on the vampire before him, his point of focus shifting now and then from Aldric's jawline to his shoulders or vice versa. Maintaining eye contact with the blonde had this tendency to be too intense for him lately. Too much of it and he may lose his fragile grip on his composure, and so he avoided it as much as possible.

As Aldric spoke, Johann peered downwards at the journal, lurking so benignly on the table. He didn't have the capability to touch it, but he could feel its weight just by looking at it. All the untold secrets it held seemed to radiate a certain gravitas, and it made him doubt himself.

What was he doing here? What did he hope to accomplish?

Closure was the obvious answer, even as the ache in him reared its ugly head, insisting that that was an impossible goal to attain.

He blinked slowly as the journal was flipped open, and leaned forward slightly — careful to not pass through the table — to regard its contents.

Johann sat, and Johann read.

It was amazing the amount of emotions one could experience in such a short time — sentimentality, confusion, hurt, outrage, guilt, resignation —

He thought he was prepared to handle this all over again, but he wasn't. His psyche ached like an open wound, and try as he might to withdraw into himself to shield himself from the hurt, he found he had no defenses — Everything regarding Aldric he felt too deeply, cared too much about, so it all cut him to the quick, and the worst thing about it was, he couldn't understand why.

The logical thing to do was to let go, but instead, instead he stubbornly clung to something he was sure he would never have, could never have, didn't deserve to have — as evidenced by the very journal in front of him.

Johann's image flickered, fading, becoming more translucent than usual; instead of lashing out he was trying to shove all of it inwards to no avail.

"[Which truth are you trying to show me?]" His voice was quiet, frail, "[Help me understand.]"

birdie · Nov 29, 2016

As Johann read, Aldric leaned back in his chair. For a while he watched Johann read, but after a while, he needed to look away. He wanted to see the change in expressions on Johann’s face, but felt too overwhelmed by them. It was not as easy to understand him as it once had been. There had been a time when Aldric knew him, but now…

Now he wanted to be the one who was known.

He had never let anyone read his journals before. No one, not sibling or servant, had been allowed access to his private journals. He kept their covers locked, and hid the keys. Though he was of course fully clothed, there was a nakedness involved in allowing Johann into this part of his life. On the page, he was stripped of his coldness, his distance; on the page all his thoughts and feelings lay bare.

And even now, Johann did not understand.

Aldric turned back. His brows were somewhat bent.

“I’m trying to show you,” he said, and pointed to the entry that read I was too late, “that I did not kill you. I was too late—yes. Too late to save you. Your heart—I told you, it was weak.”

He took the journal, and scanned the adjacent page for the correct line. Once he found it, he turned the book around so that Johann could see it. “Should I tell him what I know—what I knew about your heart.”

But there were other lines, other fragments of words that, when put together, told a different story. Aldric did not realize this.

[… A great rage, and a great jealously… ]

[… I will not … let him leave… ]

The sentences, in context, told the story Aldric was trying to explain. But the words jumped off the page and seemed to confirm what Johann believed all along: that Aldric had murdered him.

“Do you see?” he asked. “I don’t understand what other truth you mean.”

Muramura · Dec 6, 2016

He couldn't see the irony in the situation, all his psyche, his essence, focused on the hurt and heartbreak he was feeling. But it was ironic, how he was so fixated on all the little details — from the furrow of Aldric's brows, possibly indicating frustration or anger, to the slant of the man's handwriting on the pages before him — yet he was clearly missing the bigger picture without realizing it.

The vampire tried to explain, and Johann looked upon him with only confusion. Little pieces in the back of his mind were starting to click together, but they were too clouded currently to make coherent sense. "Ach..." He breathed out, emotion heavy in that one syllable. Reaching out slowly, he took the journal in a telekinetic grasp and slowly scanned the words again, unnecessary breath hitching in his throat.

It hurt, being confronted with all of Aldric's inner thoughts and musings, especially with how negative they read to him currently.

"Here..." He murmured, barely audible, slender finger pointing out each and every instance where the words seemed to imply that Aldric had found him lacking, or was upset with him, anything negative...In slow succession so that the blonde could read each sentence before moving to the next.

"...It paints a hurtful picture..."

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the devil take this orpheus

birdie

Well-Known Member

Muramura

Well-Known Member

birdie

Well-Known Member

Muramura

Well-Known Member

birdie

Well-Known Member

Muramura

Well-Known Member

birdie

Well-Known Member

Muramura

Well-Known Member

birdie

Well-Known Member

Muramura

Well-Known Member