~ I don't own Dominion. ~
Songbird.
Chapter Two.
[ A Couple of Days Later... ]
Placing the emptied bowl upon the counter, Vivian pushed through the gathering line and left the room, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. She was going to return to her cell and begin her daily routine of doing nothing—ignoring people and sleeping had become two of her favourite hobbies!
Actually, she just wanted to leave the city and return to her bunker, where life had been so much easier. She had been able to live without annoying restrictions, which kept her separated from the local citizens; she was just an outsider, someone they were keeping until they were sure she wouldn't bring trouble to their city.
Honestly, she thought it would be better if she just returned to her bunker; she had been secluded underground for the entirety of the past few months, only making quick runs to nearby homes and stores to pick up remaining supplies. She had been alone during all of that time, she had killed the monsters that this city accepted so carelessly...
She may be flexible to equality and acceptance, but she wanted no part in the bloodbath that would undoubtedly take place.
[ ]
Drumming her fingers against the table, Vivian stared at the blank sheet of paper with growing irritation; she had nothing. Without the freedom to leave the city, Vivian didn't have a lot of inspiration for a new piece—gloomy corridors without many interesting aspects just seemed...dreary.
She had never realised that colour had played such a big part in her art, especially since she didn't particularly enjoy using them due to an annoying lack of art stores within walking distance of her bunker. Greens, purples, oranges; blacks, blues and reds—she missed the shading and colouring each of these could introduce.
Guiding her pencil along the paper, she found herself drawing connecting lines without much purpose. It was a drawing exercise she had taken up, something she found quite therapeutic, regardless of the toll it took on her body; she had strengthened her mind a considerable amount, but her body had become weak and fragile to abuse. She could still run and walk, climb and duck—but she couldn't fight, which was a weakness that she couldn't afford within this city.
And yet, she couldn't actually bring herself to perform known exercises; she just wanted to remain secluded in her own bubble of irritation towards lack of colour.
"What're you drawing?" An accented voice questioned from the other side of the room, shocking the girl out of her thoughts. She turned in her chair quickly, dropping her pencil back onto the desk and glaring at whoever had entered the room; it was none other than the leader of this city, Julian. "Did I frighten you? My apologies."
"Uh, it's fine." Her lips curved into a half smile and she shrugged, "I forgot that you wanted to interrogate me about my fictional group, so I should be the one apologising."
Julian chuckled at the blatant sarcasm. "I suppose I should be grateful that you're actually speaking to me tonight."
Vivian turned back to her drawing with a hum, picking her pencil up. "I don't wanna talk tonight, unless we're talking about my promised freedom; I don't care."
She had spent far too many evenings answering the repetitive questions of Gus and Julian—losing her temper and telling them to...well, you get the idea. She wanted to spend at least one evening with herself, regardless of what she was doing; she didn't mind counting the cracks in the wall if it meant no interrogation with two idiots.
They were convinced she was nothing more than a spy, an accusation that held no truth to it; she applauded their persistence, though it was useless against her. She had been careful about her decisions and actions in New Delphi, keeping her crimes to a minimal and remaining civil to those who spoke to her—she had made herself a front that left no room for dirt to her name, she had created something that was keeping her alive and safe for now. It would be something she'd drop immediately after leaving.
Vivian didn't have much interest in the war, she would admit; she didn't particularly care if it continued or stopped, she just wanted to remain free from it. Interested or not, she had still remained aware of the difference between 2016 and now; she had created strategies to help herself survive, she was alive purely because she was intelligent; she didn't rely on the firearms or swords that littered society, instead keeping herself unarmed and using detailed schemes to deceive her enemies.
Many had labelled her insane and Vivian completely agreed with them; she had lost any sense a couple of years ago, but insanity seemed to be serving as the new nuclear weapon in the present days. She hadn't met one person who had remained the same domestic person they had once been; they had each taken different shapes of madness, whether they had taken a violent or pacifistic route was another story, though.
Vivian had travelled the road of a pacifist since the beginning of the apocalypse, but she realised that the road had become tinted with bloodshed over time; it was impossible for anyone to remain completely innocent in this world, everyone had to do things that they wouldn't have done before. It was survival of the fittest, although she detested that phrase; it was true, the weak-minded were possessed by the lower angels and the strong stood behind their chosen leaders to defeat the abominations.
Once again, Vivian lifted her attention from her drawing to glance over her shoulder, glare softening into a bemused stare. She asked, "You...haven't left yet?"
Julian shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, leaning heavily against the wall behind him. He answered, "You still have questions, I didn't want you to get lost."
"How considerate of you." She muttered sarcastically, drawing a snigger from the older man. She added, "And I don't have any questions for you, so just...please leave."
That was a lie—a blatant lie that she confirmed by glancing away upon meeting his eyes. She had far too many questions for Julian, but she refused to ask them; she wanted to leave this city without any memories of how it felt to be welcomed into a community, especially since this community consisted of the monsters that had ruined her life. If they hadn't thrown a temper tantrum, Vivian was sure she would be sitting in her apartment crying over some fantasy film on Netflix with a tub of ice cream; she was glad she could still remember those evenings, they were...good.
"Are you hell-bent on remaining isolated?" Julian asked, crossing the room with deliberately loud footsteps. "You won't get anywhere with an attitude like that."
The chair was pushed backwards with a screech of protest as Vivian quickly got to her feet, vaguely aware of the unnatural pain in her hand; it took a once-over of the table to realise she had crushed her pencil with her hand, which had resulted in pieces of wood digging their ways into the skin; blood had started to roll down the pieces, dripping onto the drawing she had been focused on only ten minutes ago.
"What in hell's name would you know?" She questioned furiously, backing away from the desk with unsteady steps; she had never enjoyed the sight of blood. She should have left this godforsaken city when she had been given the opportunity, but she had been stupid enough to believe she would be able to survive a couple of days in here.
She found herself sitting on the bed with her hand cradled against her chest, dark eyes becoming glazed over with tears that fell almost immediately. She regretted deciding to venture outside of her usual area, she should have taken the advice of her gut and returned to her bunker...and yet she had followed her curiosity into a death trap; that was a classic mistake only she could make—sometimes she hated herself for being human.
Vivian remembered the decisions that had kept her alive, but she had a reliable argument for her unreliable curiosity; the area that she was familiar with, the supplies in it had started to drop significantly over the past couple of weeks and her bunker wasn't a particularly great place to grow the seeds she had been gathering. She had waited a couple of days before making the decision, allowing her stomach to growl with a hungry burn; it had taken a lot of willpower to pull herself from the bunker, but she had decided that starving wasn't a death she particularly wanted to experience.
She was here because her instinct to chase survival was too dominant; she was attempting to calm her breathing because her temper was too short. Her hand throbbed with a horrible sting—it felt as if she had been electrocuted, but only in her hand; she didn't even want to consider the thought of sparing a look at the wounds, because the feeling of fresh blood dripping down her hand was enough to make her queasy.
It was embarrassing to cry in front of someone she wanted to express no interest towards, but it had been a while since her body had experienced abuse—excluding the times when Vivian had clumsily injured herself by knocking her elbow or stubbing her toe, but those times were something that could only haunt her in the sleepless evenings that she spent with her thoughts and memories.
"Could you leave, please?" Vivian asked, voice trembling without the calm breathing she usually authorised. "I...I need some time to myself."
Julian responded, "Do you want someone to check that out? It looks pretty bad." She shook her head slowly, asking if she could borrow a first aid kit instead.
Despite the hesitance that Julian expressed towards the idea, he still nodded his head in agreement; she was grateful for the cooperation. She murmured, "Thank you."
"I want you to promise me something, though." He stated seriously, bringing her gaze to meet his uncertain eyes. "Don't do anything stupid, Vivian—it's difficult to release a corpse."
The bizarre comment shocked a sweet laugh from the pained woman; a rare noise that she hadn't made properly for several months. Using her uninjured hand to cover her grin, Vivian shook her head as she tried to comprehend the strange humour—it was one of the few things she found herself appreciating. She chuckled, "Idiot."
A lopsided smile curved Julian's lips, before he excused himself to grab the first aid kit and left her to relax.
[ ]
After she had removed the pieces of wood, Vivian both stitched and bandaged her hand up, before placing the first aid kit under her bed for future use. Now, she was laying on her side with her head nestled into the uncomfortable pillow, thinking about the past few days.
They had certainly been abnormal—perhaps abnormal was an understatement, but you get the picture. When she had been holed up in her bunker, the thought of other survivors was a joke to her; she had heard of Vega and Helena, of course, but she had never considered travelling to join their communities; she was almost grateful that she had experienced New Delphi first. Even if she hated sleeping under the same roof of the possessed, Vivian felt that her personality would help her blend in with the locals.
From close observation over the past couple of days, Vivian had realised that New Delphi attracted outcasts, criminals and loners; there didn't seem to be many laws, feuds were sorted by firearms, fists and knives...she had seen far too much within her time here.
For example, she had seen some poor woman being carried down a corridor by two men, both of whom kept stopping to pick up stray entrails; she had overheard that the woman had been gutted by her neighbouring member of the possessed. Vivian had never fled from a scene so quickly before, honestly.
However, she had also realised something quite annoying; Julian had been looking for a reaction from her for the past couple of days—he had been observing her reactions to different subjects, which would explain the horrendous situations she had unintentionally found herself in, such as the evening when two thugs had confronted her whilst she was returning to her cell...oh hell, that had been an interesting night.
Regardless of the entertainment she got from the memories, Vivian realised that Julian had been intentionally trying to kill her in too many situations; she had never known someone that tested someone through literal murder scares—or maybe she had and she just couldn't remember! Well, that was a thought that was going to keep her up.
Either way, she turned to face the wall in a pathetic attempt to block out the harsh light and get some sleep; she could confirm that she wouldn't be successful, as she had been trying for about three evenings now. Yes, she was somehow guessed this was karma for mocking Julian; no, she wasn't going to stand for it.
A/N: Ugh, I've never felt so grateful to get a chapter over with. [Sigh of relief]
Anyway, I've been restarting this chapter over and over again because I didn't know how I wanted Vi to be...
Vi—like her archangel counterpart—is a very complex character with a personality that is basically divide by zero. I know exactly what I want to do with her, but I'm struggling to put the story into a document; so I've been incredibly frustrated with this chapter, haha. xP
However, I have so many cute things planned for Vi and 'Lian, so that's managed to keep me sane for this chapter. Eeeek, I'm literally so excited to write this story, even though I'm crap at updating it! xD
Anywho, what're your thoughts on Vivian at the moment? I'm curious to hear your opinion on this chapter, too! c:
Feel free to drop a review, but don't feel pressured. x
