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@janelle--avery-blog
“Sure, we can do that. You would be the first.”
“I don’t know about plans. I used to have a routine. What about you?”
“Yeah? Yeah, wow, okay, yes let’s. I can get you a... the number. I have it down here somewhere... First?”
“Did you? Routine? Like in life? And no, not so much a plan as ideas.”
“Sure, we can do that. You would be the first.”
“I don’t know about plans. I used to have a routine. What about you?”
“Yeah? Yeah, wow, okay, yes let’s. I can get you a... the number. I have it down here somewhere... First?”
“Did you? Routine? Like in life? And no, not so much a plan as ideas.”
“Oh, you never know,” she laughs.
“Might just be. Maybe not here, but around.”
“We should keep in touch? Maybe? I have a permanent box you can always reach me at. Well, as permanent as anything can be in this world.”
“...so do you have plans? I always wonder that about others. And the forever? How much plans mean and how much time means.”
“It could keep me up, if I let it.” But that seems like a long time ago.
“But no, not so much anymore. I hope you find Atlantis, though.”
“If I let it. I.. I get that? I think. To some extent. But, um, thanks, I hope so too. I’ll let you know if I do. It might be centuries. If you’re planning to be around?”
“Yeah, I think I do.”
“I’m not sure if I have one. Maybe space, when I was younger. I always wondered how much could be out there.”
“Oh... Oh, space. That’s lovely, actually, I get that so much. The out there? I feel like that about ... everything now. Not anymore? Though? The space?”
“I don’t not believe in it.”
“A lot of things are out there. Atlantis could be one of them.”
“I love that that. That? It’s like... mystical? And wonderful and so much in the world. Atlantis is one... one of my guilty pleasures. Of belief? Where I like... play with it. As an idealistic... thought? Thought, maybe, yeah. Do you know what I mean? I mean do you have one of those?”
“Atlantis?” She humors her with a soft smile.
“I suppose you could. You don’t need to breathe, do you?”
“Oh. I didn’t even think of that.... no, I don’t suppose I do? Um. Yeah, no, I don’t. I think finding it is the harder part I think. Or believing in it. Do you?“
“You know where I’d, um, where’d.. Where I’d love to go? Well okay I doubt you do because yes why would you but. But, um, Atlantis.”
“Oh, you make it easy.” Lila imagines she’d have a difficult being mean to someone with a personality like Janelle’s, and not to mention a lack of motive.
“Are those answers difficult for you, too? Liking who and what you are.”
“Oh, thank you so much,” she replies, almost shyly, though her usual bright tone is still there. Compliments always leave her more than a bit flustered.
“Um... Yes. But maybe not in the ways that they might be for you? I’ve always kind of had trouble with th eliking part, you know? WHen there’s so much in the world, you always want to be or do more. Well not you. I mean me. Or well a general you. But mostly me. But i have time to get there.”
“Try’na tell me I look like shit?” He’s just giving her shit, and assures her with a quick smirk. Spotting a trashcan, he turns for a second to throw the bloody gauze away.
“Hi,” he says back, trying to look more like himself. “You feelin’ better, then?” Now that he’s throw the bandage away, he means.
“N-no! No, um,” she pauses as she catches the look from him. Her eyes, however, just follow the bloody gauze and she wonders how she can nab it. She’s always been a fan of unique ways to take her blood and there’s something fun about the taste of dried, old blood flaking off of cloth. Maybe she can nab it from the trash can later... though she can also recreate the whole effect on her own. In a much more hygenic way. She entertains the thought, feeling a little more at ease. “Hm? Yes, sorry, I am. Blood always gets me all over the place. Seems like you too? Unless that’s not the blood. I’m gonna not, okay, well. Can I buy you a drink? And leave you to it, I don’t need to stay. You just seem like you could use one.”
“I’m certain you will.” Janelle seems like a curious enough girl to seek those types of answers.
Her questions are more difficult, and Lila’s quiet longer than she intended to be. “I don’t know.”
“Aw, you’re sweet, really. Kind, you care. It’s very sincere, I appreciate it.”
“It’s funny, right, though? You’d think those answers are easy, but they’re the hardest kind.”
“Sorry.” He’s quick to ball up the gauze in his fist, trying to hide it from her. His hand looks fine enough to go without any dressing, though his opinion isn’t exactly expert.
“Just ran into a little fight while back, nothin’ bad.”
“No, no, it’s ok, it happens. Um. You look.” She trails off, not knowing what to say or how to approach this whole situation. “Hi.”
“I imagine, with that kind of time, it only makes sense to keep learning.” Considering their life spans, they’ll probably figure it out someday. “What do you think?” Though this is only the second time Lila has run into Janelle, it seems to her that the other woman likes talking things out.
“Not being human? No, not anymore.”
Janelle appreciates the question and her responding smile shows as much. Still, the question isn’t one she has an answer to. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know if I figure it out, though.”
“Do you like you? Or what you are? Have?”
He recognizes her belatedly, head too busy drowning in his own problems until he gets an actual look at Janelle. It reminds him to get his act together. “What, grossin’ you out?” They are bloodied bandages he’s taking off in public, after all.
“Um, j-just a little bit.” Some murmurs from her right remind her that, yes, they’re surrounded by people and she shouldn’t be jumping the large man. Her best bet’s to get out of here, but she draws closer anyway. She’s always loved dried blood. “What happened, can I ask?”
She imagines that’s the case, briefly admiring such a useful tool. She wouldn’t have to work nearly as hard at luring food if she didn’t want to. “Physical fighting? No, I wouldn’t say so, not really.” Lila has the strength (and teeth) that humans don’t have - and they’ve been her only fight.
Maybe she’s gotten lucky to never run into any hunters. As far as she’s ever known, they’re few and far between. To know some are here settles and uneasy feeling in her chest. “Guess so. There really are a lot of us here, aren’t there.” More than she’s ever seen at once. “I’d say we’re people, sure. Maybe not human, but people.”
“Everytime I run into old, old vampires, they talk about how much they know. Like self defense and power and everything. And I always wonder, like, what’s because of when they lives and how mcuh is relevant today? If there’s a need to learn how to use a gun or even hand to hand combat. There’s probably no harm, hm? Oh, but it’s such a mess.” She’s rambling,s he realizes, so she quickly shuts her mouth and ducks her head.
“Do you think it’s weird?”
Jaime peers up at her, still a wreck of emotions he’s trying to shove down. In the meantime he’s unwrapping the bandages from around his fist and knuckles, wanting to look over damage he hopes heals by the time he sees Nora again. “What ain’t?”
How is she supposed to say ‘you shouldn’t do that because I’m hungry’? Her eyes are fixated on his fist for a little too long and she takes a second to inhale and exhale through her mouth befor eturning her attention back to his face. Shit, right, she still has to reply. “Um. No, uh, nothing. Your hand, I just thought, I.. nothing.”
“What you’re able to do, compulsion, must come in handy.” She can recall back on a few times that something like that would have really saved her a lot of trouble. “Though I imagine that any worthwhile hunter would be prepared for that.”
“But this town doesn’t seem big enough for hunters. Have you heard of any?”
“Oh definitely! It’s helpful. I tendn to use it for food more than anything, so I’m lucky enough that I haven’t run into any and used it for that. I’ve never been any good at the physical fighting things, have you?”
“Oh, yes, um. I know for a fact that there are some around here... I don’t know where or who or what or why, though. It might be the really concentrated population of people like us. Do we count as people or are we another category? It’s funny how this stuff hasn’t been officially defined anywhere. It’s all just whatever you call whatever you are and others like you.”
