Author: wisdominfic PM
Armand sat quietly on the leather sofa across from his maker, Marius. Marius
had a stack of newspapers beside him, from various cities and countries from
around the world. He was currently flipping through the New York Times. To a
casual observer who didn't know what kind of creature Marius was, they would
think he was looking for something, not reading, but scanning for a certain
headline or picture. But Armand knew he was just reading at a lightning fast
rate. Most vampires could take in images and text at an unnaturally fast pace.
He could do it too, but tonight he preferred to sit and think.
They had not spoken yet that night, just sat together in the living room of
Marius's modern mansion, listening to the crackling fire and the buzz of the
electronic appliances. Marius had tied his curling golden locks back for the
evening, and donned a pair of simple khaki slacks, freshly pressed, and a red
silk collard shirt. He looked stern and worried as he read through the paper.
Surely he was thinking about the messes mortals made with their world, the
death and the destruction. Of course mortals have always made a mess, one just
didn't used to hear about it as easily.
Armand twiddled his thumbs, now becoming bored with just his thoughts alone. He
wanted Marius to finish his damned news and speak with him directly. It was
obvious he was not pleased with Armand, not after last night. Armand sat there
feeling like a petulant child awaiting punishment. Normally, Armand mused, he
would not stand to be treated in such a way, but part of him knew he deserved
whatever was coming. His behavior last night had been embarrassing, and it was
even worse that Marius had had to come to his rescue. The others in the jail,
the other youths, who had thought Armand was very much like them selves, had
figured Marius to be Armand's father. Marius did play the part well, gripping
Armand's upper arm a little bit harder then he had to as he led Armand away
from his cell after playing the bail.
Armand had come to stay with Marius for a few weeks, or maybe even months, he
was not yet sure. He was losing himself in this lifetime, he cared little for
his Night Island and his Daniel was off somewhere, wishing not to ever be
contacted by Armand. He was lonely and wanted to be loved. Marius was lonely as
well, and through e-mail they had been chatting for the past year or so. Armand
finally decided to visit for a while, to come back to his master and find
companionship again.
In his relationship with Daniel, Armand had been in charge. But in his
relationship with Marius, Marius was in charge. Armand knew by this point that
it could never be any other way. He thought for a while that he would only be
with Marius if they could act as equals. But, Marius had been his master, first
and foremost. He was Marius' fledgling. His pupil. His son. His lover. He was
younger than Marius, and according to Marius, he still had a lot to learn.
"How can I have lived for five hundred years and still have a lot to learn? Do
you believe mortals to all be so stupid with their short lifetimes?" Armand had
argued when Marius had first said this to him a few weeks before.
"Armand, you spent several years as a pupil under my watch, yes, but then as
the coven leader you shrank from the world and lived in a private place. Your
education there might have helped you to survive in a coven, but it has not
helped you to live like a gentleman in this world." Marius calmly explained. He
knew Armand's next words would be full of fire.
"A gentleman! What the fuck do you mean Marius?" Armand was shaking with rage.
"Exactly, my boy. Please do not curse in my presence, you know I do not like
it."
"Marius, people curse in this age. It is not the same kind of disrespect as it
used to be. Everybody does it!"
Armand realized now that he sounded very much like an angry teenager with those
words. But part of him felt that way, rebellious and jealous. He was tired of
being the coven master, the ruler of large estates, the one who was always in
charge. Perhaps he came back to Marius to fulfill his desire to be controlled.
Though that desire was within him, so was a fierce independent streak he had
always held. This streak often came to the surface when he was frustrated; it
demanded equal treatment and respect. He felt it bubbling up now as he looked
at Marius with the papers.
"Master, please." Armand spoke.
Marius glanced up over the top of the page, his eyebrows raised slightly, as if
he was saying 'I am listening, go on.' So Armand did.
"Please, let us speak about last night. I know you have things you want to say
to me. I tire of this silence." His brown eyes showed his annoyance more than
his words did.
"Armand, I wanted you to think on your actions. I also wanted to get through
tonight's papers." Marius remarked pointedly.
Armand sighed and leaned back into the plump cushion of the couch. He left his
flowing auburn curls down for the night and they touched his slim shoulders. He
was wearing a pair of artfully torn blue jeans and a simple well-fitting black
t-shirt. 'My actions?' he thought. Well, to start at the beginning, he had been
going out the past few weeks with some of the local good-for-nothing youth.
Those who had parents who didn't care about their whereabouts or at least
didn't know the company they kept. They were brash teenagers, prone to breaking
things and stealing, but they were also innocent. They mimicked the actions of
other thugs with half the heart. He found their presence exhilarating. He was
jealous of them.
Most of them had had moderately happy childhoods - little league teams and boy
scouts, family vacations to amusement parks and places with an ocean view,
their own rooms, with trophies on their walls next to posters of rock legends
and pretty but scantily-clad women torn from magazines. In their teenage years
they had become disillusioned to life. They were confused and their parents and
teachers weren't helping. So, they took to the street. They gathered in small
groups and acted out against society. Armand was able to fit in well with these
children after only a few days. They easily accepted him and his made-up
stories of his own youthful troubles. He said he had been suspended from school
by some crackpot principle and her hypocritical rules. They all nodded in
communal disgust for such types.
He helped them to break into cars, and then later break into clubs. He
mesmerized bartenders into selling them drinks and pretty girls into dancing
with them. Soon they loved having Armand around. "He just knows how to live
life." A blond named Henry loudly proclaimed. Armand found it amusing, that one
who was dead knew better how to live life than one that was alive. Maybe it was
true, but he was also manipulating them in small ways. He could easily read
their thoughts and get them what they most desired. He didn't know he was
corrupting them until he was already in too deep. He knew Marius wouldn't
approve, so he hid it from him. Oh, he told him he was going out with some
friends, but he always lied about his whereabouts and actions. Marius was too
much of a gentlemen do-gooder to think corrupting mortal youths was a good
idea. But what neither of them knew was that these boys were also corrupting
Armand.
He soon found rebellious joy in their nightly hi-jinks. Every night the stakes
were raised and they took it higher. Pot smoking turned into hard drugs when
Armand could get his hands on it. They had all been talking for weeks about the
high one could achieve. Armand wanted to feel that high. It was no fair that
boys didn't do such a thing in his day. He could take the little drink from one
of them and feel the heightened sensation with his vampire senses. Then, when
he was afraid they might go to far, he could stop them, maybe even stop their
impending addiction.
But soon he became addicted as easily as they had, and continued to take the
little drink from his drugged companions. It was going well until they had all
been caught. Luckily they didn't have any of the drugs on them, Armand had been
smart enough to see that they left no trace, but they were tripping out in a
club when they were reported. Police came and broke up the place, taking all
the under aged patrons with them. The bartenders pointed Armand out as the
leader, and in keeping up his teenage appearance and attitude he was not
carrying ID. The stupor from the drugged blood he had sampled left him in an
addled state of mind. He tried to control the mind of the officer that carried
him out, but he only seemed to piss off the man further.
They were dragged to the local jail and locked in, and after several hours,
when they seemed to be in better states of mind, those whose parents had not
already been contacted were allowed one phone call. Armand thought about the
possibility of escape, but he knew the security cameras had already captured
his likeness. He could get away but they would be after him. He photo would be
released on television and he would have to hide for a while. Marius would
surely find out either way. So, he dialed Marius' phone. Marius picked up, and
Armand told him where he was.
"You're WHERE?!" Marius yelled, a paternal nervousness evident in his voice.
"The Orleans Parish jail, on Crocket Street. Um…I have a $2000 fine, payable
for bail, for resisting arrest, public disturbance, breaking and entering, and
trace amounts of heroine on my person. I managed to get out of the blood test,
though. Since I am a 'minor', um, could you bring the appropriate papers and
come get me by dawn? It may take some persuading, sir." Armand tapped his foot
nervously. In all his life he had never caused such a mess with mortals.
The officer sneered at him.
"Hurry up boy."
"Thank you." Armand hung up the phone and allowed the man to herd him back to
his cell. Hopefully Marius would come soon.
But of course Marius did come, and in his full glory at that. He had managed to
make himself look flush and mortal, probably by adding fresh blood to the flesh
of his face. He dealt with the officer, and managed to clear Armand of possible
future jail time. He assured them that the incident would not happen again, he
would see to it. He presented all the papers and was soon leading Armand out of
the place by his forearm.
Armand didn't say anything, and when they were out of range of the station
Marius hoisted them both up in the air. They came to rest on the balcony of the
mansion.
"The sun is about to rise. Go to one of the coffins in the basement." Marius
demanded, his voice stern.
Armand figured this must have been the first part of his punishment, for
normally he was allowed to sleep in a plush bed in one the rooms. All of the
rooms were sunlight proof, and gave a vampire wonderfully comfortable
accommodations. The coffins were there for the ancient ones and for an overflow
of guests, were that to ever happen.
And all of that had led them here, to the living room, tonight.
