a/n: thank you to koryandrs, AssassiansVow2012, springbreakers, Guest, and hope for reviewing (ignoring the flame c: )
this chapter has sydney and adrian meeting, so be ready for that, and enjoy reading c:
disclaimer: I donut own bloodlines. or donuts. (puns are nice.)
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"Well, I never heard it before, but it sounds uncommon nonsense."
— Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.
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Adrian ran his hands along the cool edges of his bed frame, smiling lightly at the cold touch that most would revolt to — the cold was a settling difference in the indifferences of the small room, and even a cold bar of metal was change enough for him to feel as though he were keeping his mind calm.
Isn't using a chilling piece of metal as a security blanket only further proof that you're losing your shit?
"I'm not losing my mind," Adrian spoke in a soft voice, using the melodies of his words as some form of company — the lull of his own voice sounded like a confiding soul next to him, and was settling in some way. "These walls are my destruction, and the sunlight will be my salvation."
The sober poetry flooded his lips without so much as a second thought. The mindless ramblings were some normal for him, and normal was settling. Though the spirit-induced words scared him at one point, he had learned to see them as some comfort, seeking out a friend in the usual slurs.
The words were part of the reason he was condemned to the tight walls, but he had learned to ignore the whys of his damned state, and focused on dreaming of the escape when he wasn't stumbling along the dreams of others.
He tried not to focus on the fact that he wouldn't be alone for as long as he had thought he would be — with any other subject, he would have been smiling at the thought of a woman arriving, but the tables were turned with the nature of her being.
She was an alchemist — he had learned from Abe that she had yet to be bound to alchemy, but Adrian's soul wasn't eased. He wasn't afraid, exactly. He was worried, for both his sake and the sake of the arriving girl.
He hadn't known many alchemists through the duration of his days at court, but knew that they weren't too keen on moroi or dhampirs, and was sure that a certifiably insane moroi would be no walk in the park for her. Though he had yet to meet the unnamed alchemist, he was positive that she would be terrified of him — most humans were scared even of a schizophrenic man walking drunkenly along the streets. Being forced to share a small room with a man called insane who survived off of blood would be more terrifying than living in a horror house.
She wouldn't be any different — how could she be? If a child were taught that being gay was wrong all their life, they would be prejudiced, and possibly scared of a homosexual man or woman. The lessons passed down from a parent to a child were held for life, and being taught from an infantile state that vampires were the devils of the earth would be a bit harder to shake than a homophobic nature.
He wished that she would find some way to ignore his nature, but he knew it impossible — something so prominent as being moroi was impossible to hide with even a stretched smile to hide his fangs or alluring words to distract her. She was some form of an alchemist, and would be intelligent more likely than not.
There was a knock on the door, a knock Adrian found pointless — he wasn't able to open the door from the inside, and knew they would walk in without comment, but he offered a weak greeting, "Come in,"
He wasn't too sure what he had been expecting — his therapist, perhaps — but the sight of two men dragging along a small blonde girl was completely away from his set mind frame.
"Number 54602?" Adrian's fingers clenched around the cold bar at the name that he loathed, "This is patient 68310."
"My apologies, but could you give me a real name? Not everyone goes around like Neanderthals calling people by numbers as your sort likes to." The smile that slid onto Adrian's face ricocheted back with an annoyed glare, and the men dumped her on the spare bed none too gently.
"68310 speaks English. You can ask her yourself when she comes to."
"'Comes to'? What did you do, cover her mouth with chloroform and drag her?"
"Chloroform is illegal, much unlike the movies you watch—"
"I don't watch movies. Talking to myself doesn't count." Adrian gestured to the walls, barren of any entertainment. The men in black seemed to ignore his interruption, finding no amusement in the moroi man.
"—and she passed out when she arrived here, possibly derived from shock."
"Shock from what? The awful state you keep this joint in? The realization that everyone here is a fucking joke?" He had more to say, but he found no point in continuing his speech on the state of the institution and the hopeless environment once the door was slammed and the men left.
Adrian watched the door for only a few moments before throwing away the time wasted, heading to something that could be of some use. Standing up carefully, he moved to the girl on the spare bed, sitting on the bed near her stomach and looking her over.
Her light face was covered by a mass of tangled blonde hair, but moving the knotted hair signaled him quickly that she wasn't a true alchemist. It was a fact he had known from Abe, but still comforting in a way.
She was pretty, but Adrian had known many beautiful women, and most of them would be his with a simple glance. Many of them were much more beautiful than the blonde girl lying on the bed, but something about her captivated him, but he was unable to grasp for whatever made the girl stand out.
His eyes roamed her face and body for a few moments more, trying and failing at grasping the standout, but his eye soon caught the difference in the half-alchemist. His mahogany eyebrows rose in some curiosity, and a quarter of a smile broke his lips.
Her aura was a golden tone, the same color as a dimmed sun. The aura was nearly pure, and it held none of the blackness that his own held from the spirit, but it was spotted with a royal purple color.
Passion.
The trait was something he hadn't expected to find in the girl — fear, possibly, or purely intelligence, but the deep color brought some curiosity into his eyes.
He wanted to focus on the colors, but moved away not to scare her, and opted to count the tiles on the walls.
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"Are you a moroi or a dhampir?"
The slow-spoken words were not the first ones he expected to hear from the girl, and brought Adrian's attention immediately. He sat up from is lying position, locking eyes with the blonde girl who was now staring at him.
A full smile spread over his lips, a smile that allowed his fangs to show, "Take a guess."
The girl visibly moved further back on her bed; shifting towards the wall and away from the subject she was speaking to. Adrian laughed, and she pulled her knees close in some form of what looked to be comfort, "Who are you?"
"A moroi — I thought I made that clear with my "weird teeth", but from your reaction, you seem to have limited experience with vampires."
"I was hoping for some name."
"Adrian Ivashkov." He would have offered some charming smile with the royal title, but refrained from the automatic flirtation — she was alarmed already by his teeth, and would possibly faint again if he provided a second smile, teeth hidden or not.
"In that case, I apologize for Tatiana, but I'm not going to . . . bow for you." Another peal of laughter came from Adrian, and he shook his head.
"I've received already enough apologies pertaining to her death, and unless you yourself stabbed her, I don't need sympathy from you. And you aren't expected to vow unless you meet Lissa."
"Lissa?"
"Vasilisa Sabrina Rhea Dragomir."
Sydney blinked at him, "You're on personal terms with the queen?"
"I've known her before she was queen, but I wasn't there for her coronation. But yes, I suppose I am." Adrian smiled fondly at the memories of his old close friend, reminding himself to walk upon her dream that night.
"If you know her so well, why hasn't she tried to get you out of here?"
"She has, but she has little say in who stays and who leaves here. Her little sister is here, but Jill isn't living it up in Court as she's supposed to," Adrian could see from her face that she was confused by the casual names, and elaborated, "Jillian Mastrano Dragomir."
"She's here? I thought—"
"Whatever you thought is wrong," Adrian cut in quickly, never the patient one. "You'll hear about her later, I'm sure. Now, down to the basics: your name?"
"Sydney Katherine Sage." Her introduction was confident, but her smile wavered as she touched her cheek lightly, pulling her hand away in some disappointed fashion.
"So, Sage, why do they think you're crazy?"
"Sage?" The nickname made Sydney frown, clearly one she hadn't heard before.
"You gave me three names, and I opted for the shortest one. Now, what's the answer to question two?" His reasoning behind her nickname wasn't the strongest, but it made enough sense to him.
"I'm not crazy. I just . . . caused a fire."
"You 'caused a fire'? How? Cooking for too long?" Adrian was aware that his sarcasm wasn't too appreciated by the formal girl, but it was difficult for him to speak without a snarky undertone cutting in.
"No. I don't know. I touched a bed, and it caught on fire, and then the room caught fire." She sounded as though she were reading off a list of chronological events, stating them as facts simple as science.
"Like a fire user?"
"Do not compare me to a moroi, please. I'm human — I don't have any of the magic your kind uses." Her words were confident for the first time in their exchange, and Adrian chuckled lightly at the striking words.
"Apologies — I'd be offended at being compared to Ozera, too."
Sydney didn't know which Ozera he was speaking of, but decided against asking him. She blinked her golden eyes at him, deciding to voice his question back to him, "So, Adrian, why do they think you're crazy?"
"Darkness. Spirit overdose. Ramblings." Adrian spoke his "conditions" as though reading off some prescription or warning label, sounding bored already.
"Spirit overdose?"
"I'm sure you've heard of spirit users."
Sydney frowned, looking to her hands as she thought back to what she had been told on the moroi that manipulated spirit. The lesson was short — the alchemists had yet to reveal deeper information to her, and the subject was a grey area in the history the alchemists had recorded — but she knew a few things on the beings, "I've heard of them, and I believe I can safely guess that you're one of the sort."
"Bingo."
The conversation fell apart, and Sydney laid back on her bed, shutting her eyes though she was hardly tired. She thought to ask Adrian what the time was, but she chose not to — she doubted that he would have any clue in the windowless room, and there was no clock on the walls.
Go to sleep, Sydney.
Her command went unheeded by her body, and she turned onto her side, facing the wall instead of the moroi man she thought to be dangerous, much too attractive for his own good.
It'll be better in the morning.
Even as her mind lulled into sleep, she knew it wouldn't.
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question of the day:
who is your favorite fictional character? I like tate from american horror story and magnus from the mortal instruments.
leave a review in the box below c: