#caliginal

[inlapida-blog]

@caliginal | ★

It was kind of him to join her on running errands for Sheridan. She loathes going out where she might be spotted or recognized, but to have company, especially that which can protect her if need be, is a small comfort.

Ending up here was unexpected, though. Carmilla hasn’t ordered anything; she’s not sure what alcohol will do to her circuits and she isn’t eager to find out.

“Leave it behind and come out with what? I have no friends, no family, no-one but a weak-willed scientist who turned me into what I am now. I can’t move forward if I don’t know what got me here in the first place.”

Her eyes haven’t left the glass in front of him since the conversation started. She fears what she’ll see if she looks up.

“... I wish I knew where to start. Sheridan won’t tell me anything. I think he’s scared of what I’d do if I found out who I'd been. I think I am too.”

[caliginal-blog]

@inlapida​​ ☾ accepting. “VI: SONS OF FATE.” THE PROTOMEN.

    “ You are not broken. “

[inlapida-blog]

@caliginal || ★

To even think such a thing had been too presumptuous of her. Bold thoughts turn to bold words, ones she hadn’t expected him to respond so positively to; now that he has, all her courage evaporates to be replaced by embarrassment so strong she can hardly look at him.

“I... No, never.”

She places her free hand on his chest for lack of anything better to do with it. “I thought... maybe if I wanted to learn, it would be from someone I trust. I'm sorry, this is strange, isn’t it?”

[inlapida-blog]

@caliginal

The paraSOL can’t be called fickle. It’s an unfeeling machine, subject to the whims of its creators. But the same cannot be said for them. Taking a break from her duties, Carmilla lingers a good distance away from the windows, should the force of the storm shatter them.

Such torrential rains and indiscriminate lightning strikes are a threat. The vampires’ collective rage, thick and oppressive, is powerful enough that even she with her state of emotional compromise is suffocated by it.

One of them must have fallen. Not he who bears the terennial of wind, she thinks sardonically, but it must have been someone formidable if they feel a need for a show of power like this.

The sound of the heavy front door slamming shut rips Carmilla from her thoughts. She’s already off to meet whoever is foolish enough to visit in such weather, as she knows of only one person who would even dare. Perhaps if he hadn’t been in such a sorry state, she might have been as close as she could be to excited.

“Lucian-”

He looks terrible. It’s hard not to after being out in such horrid rain. She rushes to him, quick to take his coat and making a note to herself to get him a towel.

“Traveling in these conditions... I’ll tell Professor Sheridan you’re here, do rest in the meantime. Are you alright?”