A Dead Heart Still Beating

Alex Drake. Vampire.

[dead-heart-still-beating]

kassarslan‌:

“Alex Drake,” she mimicked with a nod, acknowledging his name sweetly, ”alright, that’s easy enough to remember.”

Their gazes remained locked until she moved to tip the book into her hands. “Please, excuse me.” Then two more. Hugging the covers against her chest, she half-turned, then stopped. “This town doesn’t seem to be all that big. I’m sure we’ll meet again,” she gestured towards her findings with a triumphant look. “Until then.” Kassandra turned on her heel and walked deeper inside the shop, hoping to find the owner and to perhaps ask them a few questions.

“Wait, where are you ...” Alex started, confused as hell by the dusky brunette’s sudden retreat.  But he slipped on a sly grin, flitted her a wink that promised their next encounter would not be so easily withdrawn from, and bade her goodbye with a suave and murmured, “You can count on it, Kassandra.  You’ll have to find me ... if I don’t find you first.”  Blue eyes watched every step she took til out of eyeshot before the vampire turned to leave, still smiling with every step.

[dead-heart-still-beating]

kassarslan‌:

Kassandra shifted her gaze and found his, her breath catching at the startling hue of his eyes. They were vivid, almost luminous, warm and expressive. She had never seen the like, especially when he looked at her like that. Her heart suddenly tripped over itself within the confines of her chest, and for the life of her she could not articulate an appropriate response. Running the slender fingers of her right hand through her heavy fall of dark locks, she allowed him a careful, soft smile. “I didn’t mind, really. I only thought that you…,” she gave herself a mental shake, “sounded hurt. But you seem fine to me, so that was probably a mistake on my part,” she explained for his benefit.

Afterwards, several seconds of awkward silence ticked by until she burst out into a giggle, the sound of it as clear as a bell. “That’s one way to meet someone. I’m Kassandra,” she stressed, “What’s your name?” 

“Mun tu shudam tu mun shudi,mun tun shudam tu jaan shudi.  Taakas na guyad baad azeen, mun deegaram tu deegari,” Alex’s tongue whispered an old Farsi couplet he had last printed with kisses against the skin of the long dead Theodora.  The laughter that reached his ears wasn’t hers, though.  It was different, uniquely beautiful and a reminder that what was past was and would forever be past.  He straightened up self-consciously and neither confirmed nor denied her suspicion about his state of mind. “Kassandra,” the syllables were sweet on the tongue, and beckoned another, broader smile of delight as the vampire banished old ghosts with a new name. “I’ve been many names ... but you can call me Alex.  Alex Drake.”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

kassarslan‌:

Confusion pulled at the seams of her face, drawing dark eyebrows down into a subtle frown. Whereas she’d only spared him a fleeting glance at first, it was the rich baritone of his voice which caused her to look up from where their hands met; so full with nostalgia and – longing. It almost made her feel out of place, guilty, as if she’d seen something she shouldn’t have, or intruded herself into somebody else’s private affairs. Kassandra didn’t know him, that much was clear, and became apparent, when she replied: “Excuse me?” She tipped her head quizzically. “Who? Are you alright?”

He fled back from the reverie like the open grave of memory it was, blinking back to a reality wholly divorced from the 15th Century and Theodora.  It was a silly mistake and Alex repented of it through a thin, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone I knew.  My mistake.  There ...” he clasped his hands in front, nodding to the shelf and the book they’d mingled over. “All yours.  My roving hand won’t get in the way again, I assure you.”  Yet for the apology he probably stared too long and too intently.  God’s teeth, she did look the spitting image of the woman who had led him on, manipulated him, convinced him there was still such a thing as love and then left, fleeing unwittingly into the arms of her demise back in Constantinople.  Her death was the last Alex had truly mourned of the countless people who had come and gone in the intervening centuries. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

[dead-heart-still-beating]

darlinganathema‌:

Anathema swallowed thickly at the mention of Fifty Shades having nothing on him, that part of her mind that’s always been irascibly attracted to Drake going haywire in her brain. Her expression betrayed nothing except for sadness and something akin to pity at his words. Taking the tome out of his hand and placing it on the shelf, she rested his large hands inside of hers, her thumb grazing his knuckles as she looked up into his eyes with an affectionate smile. “Yes, well, like all things organic, it can grow back and blossom into something truly beautiful. I’d say your time will come, Alex. You just have to be willing to invite it in when given the chance.” she said softly, squeezing his hands tenderly before releasing them with a note of reluctance. She seldom ever used his first name, only using it when she wanted to impart something of great import. His hands felt like a marble statue: sturdy, cold, and with thousands of years of history in every line. She wondered what they would feel like if…Her train of thought was cut short when he said something about Porn films. “Porn films? I-Oh come here, you!” she chastised, tugging the man by his hand over to the children’s book section, pulling out a children’s book adaptation of the film. “Toy Story is a film about a Cowboy Doll named Woody, who the audience is introduced to as the favorite toy of a child named Andy. This all gets thrown into jeopardy when, on Andy’s birthday, Space Ranger toy Buzz Lightyear is introduced into Andy’s life and the life of the toys. Woody has to reconcile his feelings of inadequacy and irrelevance in the face of a new toy essentially replacing his sense of purpose. The entire series is essentially a meditation on Woody’s ego and purpose in life. While there are great characters introduced, it’s really Woody’s story.” She couldn’t help but laugh as she put the book down. “Before you laugh too much, it was the first fully computer animated film, at least here in the United States. It has set the standard for nearly all CGI films that followed, plus set the bar for quality quite high for Pixar.”

Alex didn’t go in much for current-day cinema.  He tended to stick to the 1960s and earlier, and his true milieu was the 20s and 30s.  He certainly didn’t watch children’s films but Anathema’s tug at his arm made for playful persuasion, one he yielded to with an easy grin and an intentional stumble in his step as she led him on.  He looked down at the cover of the book she produced but made no effort to open it.  The explanation was far more interesting but because of the woman telling it, not the content. “It sounds more complicated than kids’ fare,” he conceded, but that was all, his enthusiasm muted but still humoring the obvious fan. “If you enjoy it, Anathema, that’s all that matters,” Alex smoothly deflected the subject back onto her where it belonged. “I find it amusing ... but not laughable.  We all have our quirks.  They’re part of what make us human.”  A dryly self-deprecating wink followed. “Made us human.”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

[dead-heart-still-beating]

kassarslan‌:

Kassandra went in and a bell jingled overhead. The smell of old books hit her and it was somehow like coming home. Although she doubted that she’d find anything remotely important about the town in here, like terribly dark secrets or any other suspicious findings, it couldn’t hurt to learn more about its very history. She was nothing if not thorough. Standing there, staring at the long shelves crammed with tattered pages, she felt herself relax and, for the first time since her arrival, was suddenly at peace.

After a while of taking a look around, she reached out for a random book; only to find herself touching the hand of someone else. 

“What an odd coincidence. Do you mind?”

Books were living memory for Alex even if what was written in them in this so-called ‘History’ section of the local shop was of questionable veracity.  He could remember when he’d first read them, who he’d been, who he’d loved and loathed, what he’d won and lost.  The passage of time wasn’t quick for him.  It was agonizingly slow and he recalled so many details.  Rapt in his thoughts, he was musing more to himself than the footfalls nearby; an arrival he didn’t turn to observe: “They say history is written by the victors.  It would be far more accurate to say history is written by the liars.  So little of what they put to pen is true.”  Reaching for a book on the history of the Ottoman Empire, his hand intersected another.  Mind already on the 15th Century the vampire might have written it off as just an illusion but he could feel the warmth of her fingers against his.  He looked.  He stared; wide-eyed and disbelieving.  The clipped Etonian English accent he’d cultivated over the last two hundred years slipped away and in a distinctly Romanian flourish he whispered a name that hadn’t passed his lips since kingdoms ruled that had long since gone to dust. “Theodora ...”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

billiebcnnett‌:

YOU’RE A VAMPIRE as well, then, I take it? Immediately, Billie straightened up. That was the truly pesky thing about vampires: you never could really tell who they were until you asked. So when the obscenely handsome man volunteered the information, Billie was thrilled. “I’m not a vampire,” Billie explained, trying her best to seem casual. She was betrayed, of course, by the fluttering in her heart, the way her chest swelled at the prospect of having another set of fangs in her throat. “I just like vampires. A lot. And I figure… what’s wrong with vampires having their own personal blood bank? Right? I mean, not to sound lewd or anything, but I’d be happy to volunteer.”

Alex realized he’d misunderstood.  She wasn’t seeking a taste. The beautiful young brunette was offering it. “Do you know,” he teased, leaning in close.  Very close.  Near enough for his words to print in breaths against her neck and that delicate jawline. “If I listen closely enough I think I can hear your heartbeat.”  His expression lit into a charmingly seductive smile. “It sounds delicious.”  There was no effort made to pull back or restore equilibrium.  Alex had decided to see what the enthusiastic vampire aficionado was made of. “Do you know many of us to like us as you do?  And I have to wonder, looking at your exquisite milk-and-honey complexion if you’ve ever been bitten before?  If not ...” his brown eyes trailed contemplatively along the ligature of her neck. “You’re being remarkably brave in offering.”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

maevewesterly‌:

Maeve didn’t relax, despite his assurance. What did his word mean to her, anyway? For all she knew, he was trying to lure her in. “So what’s the with the sunglasses?” She inclined her head toward him, both eyebrows raised. “I’m happy you’re not looking to make me your next meal, but those are still a little….” she crossed her arms right back, searching for the right word. “Off-putting.” 

The vampire paused a moment, reached up, and took off the shades, folding them to insert neatly into the front pocket of his shirt. “Is that any better?” he asked, shooting her a sarcastic stare. “I would think encountering a stranger at night in general would be more off-putting than the fact that they happen to be wearing sunglasses but never let it be said I’m unwilling to set others as ease when I choose to.”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

darlinganathema‌:

“I would quite think so. You know, I never had the chance to learn how to tango. Perhaps someday…” she mused aloud, trailing off before being brought back to the present with his remark about his own fervent affairs. “Well, considering you are a man of considerable good looks, wit and fortune, I should say I’d be quite shocked if you hadn’t. You know, you really ought to pen them down. At the very least, you could work with someone who could. If Fifty Shades of Grey did anything right, it helped in a small way to highlight that yes, we womenfolk do want sex. I have a soft spot for romance and erotica, but that a conversation best suited for another time. “ she relented with a dismissive wave of her perfectly manicured hand. The smirk grew into a fond smile at the mention of Neruda. “Ahh, excellent choice. I’ve always been more of a Thomas fan myself. Well, Thomas and Dickenson. Anything that tugs at my deep, woefully dark heart.” Ana chuckled heartily as she leaned dramatically into the bookshelf. The dramatic flourish nearly turned into a full-blown collapse as she gawked at Drake in abject shock. “I…I-I’m sorry, what?! Oh goodness, it’s settled. We are having a Disneycation and we are watching the trilogy. I own it all on Blu-Ray. I don’t care if it’s your place or mine, it is truly a seminal piece of cinematic mastery. It’s one of the few trilogies where one could argue the sequel is better than the original. Don’t you dare argue with me Drake, this is far too serious.” While there was a touch of mirth in her insistence, Anathema was not joking one bit about them marathoning the three films. Pretty much any other Pixar film or film franchise she would let slide, but this? Absolutely not.

“Ah, Ms. Zimmerman,” Alex teased, venturing a sly wink and a crooked grin that brimmed with fondness at the reminiscence of some of his many, many avid adventures through the centuries. “Fifty Shades of Grey would have nothing on me.  I know very little about romance ... it’s been a long time since I felt anything akin to that in my some might say ostentatiously long life but sentimentality in general tends to wither and die somewhere along an existence without end.”  There was no regret in that statement, the vampire simply owning up to the facts of how he and the world around him had changed over time.  Some of those changes had passed him by completely, including the movies that the erudite human held dear.  His dark head shook, failing to understand. “We’re having a what?  Three porn films in one sitting?  That seems like a lot but I can hold out if you can.  Toy Story sounds like it must involve a great many battery-operated devices.”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

maevewesterly‌:

Maeve was only flesh and bone, the most vulnerable species in Thornridge, but she didn’t back down at the implied threat. How could she? “Ah, yeah, but I’m not willing to be anyone’s snack, so I don’t think that’ll be happening any time soon.” So her hunch had been right. Maeve planted her feet against the sidewalk, determined to make sure this vampire wasn’t a threat before she moved on. The sight of his fangs gave her the chills. “Maybe you should try the hotel. I hear there are plenty of willing…participants there. I assume you know where the Red Velvet Inn is.”

Alex sighed, his smile disappeared and he folded his arms across his chest, a protest of innocence or as close to it as he could conceivably come. “I wasn’t making overtures towards sucking your blood,” the vampire clarified. “I prefer, as you call them, willing participants but the clientele at the Red Velvet Inn are a little below my standards.  You’ve nothing to fear, though, I’m not looking for a meal.”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

"Nisi Dominus - Cum Dederit" de Antonio Vivaldi. Andreas Scholl

[dead-heart-still-beating]

darlinganathema‌:

Anathema’s eyes rolled in jest as she giggled softly at his greeting, silently trying to quiet the way her heart fluttered. “Well, I should certainly say not. Forgive me, but in all the time you’ve spent on this planet, I do believe it does take two to tango, as they say.” she chuckled, her hand reluctantly resting at her side as she leaned against the bookshelf. “Me? Now Mister Drake, I don’t believe this is the appropriate section for such talk. I believe that would be best suited among more…torrid tales.” she teased gently before continuing with a sigh. “Oh I’m afraid you’ll think me foolish…” she admitted, tinges of scarlet gracing her cheeks, “As you know, I lived a vast majority of my short life in Orlando and on a whim, I decided to catch Toy Story 4 again in the theater. It had me waxing rather nostalgic, so I came here to see if I could find any interesting tomes of Disney knowledge. Not that I wouldn’t know it already, but sometimes reading it in a narrative form is supremely enjoyable. What about yourself? I see you’ve already discovered something.” she noted, pointing under his arm.

He had come to enjoy the verbal badinage with Anathema, a woman of rare intellect who volleyed back all the subtle jibes and innuendo he served.  In a supreme compliment to the human he considered her someone who would have made a marvelous vampire, especially a few centuries back. “A tango for two is a lot more fun, at least.  As for torrid tales, I’ve accumulated enough to write a few books myself.”  He withdrew the very old tome from beneath his arm and patted it affectionately. “But Neruda puts it more elegantly than I ever could.  I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”  Brown eyes glinted with amusement and that quality only amplified as the urbane woman made clear what she’d really come for.  But Alex was reduced to confusion, knowing Disney well enough but ... “What exactly is ‘Toy Story’?  If it’s an adult film I’m rather surprised Disney is diversifying that much but in this day and age, who knows?”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

mayorzorafalk‌:

“It’s not nearly as fun or interesting, at least,” she winked at him. The evenings spent at home with a bottle of wine just weren’t quite the same. “Guilty,” she chuckled, lifting the glass for a drink. “I hope you have. I make a point of actually being out in the town I’m in charge of. Also, you’re welcome to just call me Zora,” she held out her hand to him to shake.

“Alex.  Alex Drake.  Charmed,” he insisted with a detached courtliness from another age, reaching for the offered hand and instead of shaking it lowering himself to stop just short of kissing it but the sentiment was there.  Releasing her digits, he gestured to the lifted glass instead. “To your health, Zora.  And to a peaceful town for as long as we can enjoy it, hrmm?”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

catherinelinwood‌:

Catherine regarded the man in the sunglasses strangely, letting him keep his distance, but she didn’t flinch away. She suspected he might be a vampire with his comments, but working late in a diner also meant she had seen stranger behavior from humans. Either way, she wasn’t too worried for her safety. “And at what point, in your apparently long life, did you get set in your ways of wearing sunglasses at night? I can’t remember a time where it was honestly popular or useful, but maybe I missed out on those years.”

“Were you around for the 1980s?” Alex replied blithely, an eyebrow quirking over his sunglasses and his mouth upturning into a sarcastic grin. “There was a song ‘Sunglasses at Night’.  It started something of a trend.”  He tapped the side of his specs and recited the lyrics (though did NOT sing): “Don’t switch the blade on the guy in shades, oh no.”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

maevewesterly‌:

Maeve zeroed in on the man as soon as she heard ‘I’ve not eaten yet tonight’. It could easily be a human who was hangry and jiving for the special at Luke’s, but the way the hair on the back of her neck raised made her think otherwise. Clutching the keys to the studio in one hand, she marched over to where the man was walking (with shades no less!). “You need directions to some place for dinner?” She asked, the bite in her voice too evident. “And no. I’ve never seen anyone wearing sunglasses at night - because it’s weird.” 

“I guess then you’re the arbiter of all that is weird, abnormal, and unacceptable in society, then?”  Alex dryly shot back with a glance over the reflective lenses of his sunglasses. “I don’t find my dinner in restaurants.  In fact it frequently has a habit of just wandering into view.”  A smile showed off his fangs without any hint of genuine mirth. “I’d consider it far more weird for someone to chat up a vampire in the middle of the night.  You could wind up a snack.”

[dead-heart-still-beating]

darlinganathema‌:

One of the few things Anathema did that resulted in her being in town for an extended period of time was journey to the town’s quaint bookshop, typically after catching a film at the local cinema. Today had proven to be the perfect day for such an outing, as she walked through the door and giving the owner a polite nod with a smile. She’d just gotten out of seeing Toy Story 4 for the second time and was waxing a touch nostalgic, so she was curious to see if there happened to be an intriguing books regarding the Walt Disney company in stock. Weaving through the aisles, her fingers had just grazed the first spine of a book when she froze. A particular scent, one uniquely designed to make hearts flutter and knees buckle (hers no exception) wafted to her nose. The smile on her face grew as she turned the corner to see a familiar haunt. “I’d know that delicious aroma anywhere. Mister Drake, what an unexpected pleasure.” she cooed in delight, closing the gap between the two of them as she extended her hand outward.

Alex embraced most technological progress.  Computerization had made the world a much smaller place, able to be traversed in seconds and that had catapulted his multi-national corporation to new heights undreamed of a century or two before.  It had also permitted him this quaint hermetic existence in Thornridge but if there was one advancement he refused to take to heart it was electronic books.  They were a tactile experience made to be touched and held, even the smell of the pages and the musty aroma of old bindings appealed to the vampire in ways no Kindle or iPad could compare to for the sake of reading.  So he was an enthusiastic patron of the local bookstore and was just examining an old first edition copy of the poems of Pablo Neruda when the rhythmic footfalls he’d come to identify by that cadence alone echoed through the stacks. “Ms. Zimmerman,” his deep baritone pronounced her name with the clipped English accent he’d adopted since Victoria was queen and this place little more than wilderness.  Turning, Alex afforded the rarity of a genuine smile, taking the offered hand and brushing his lips over her knuckles in polite greeting but with a feather-light flair that applied something provocative to the courtly act. “I would say the pleasure is all mine but I never hope that’s the case.  Tell me,” he closed the livre he held in the other hand and tucked it under his arm. “What sort of stimulation have you come searching for today?”

[luuuuuke-evans]

He’s like an animal stalking its prey. 😍