Voe and Alastor are lying on the grass in the bayou of the latter's room, staring at the man-made stars above. Voe sighs and smiles warmly, Alastor's eyes dart towards her.
"What is on your mind, my dear?"
"Oh, it's nothing, it's just my silly brain wandering"
"Do tell, I love to hear what your mind can do." He leans on his arm and stares down at her with a smirk
She rolls her eyes "I was just staring at these stars and wondering if this is what real stars in New Orleans look like."
Alastor tsks "Oh no, absolutely not. I couldn't capture the beauty of the Louisiana night sky no matter how hard I tried."
She looks up at him "I figured. But then, after I thought about how I'd never been there, and thought about what it would have been like if I had ever gone to New Orleans. Then I wondered what it would have been like if we'd met each other when we were alive."
"We are from two different periods my dear, that would not be possible."
"I know, but I just wonder, what if we weren't? Like, what if I was around in the 20s while you were still in your prime? I wonder how you looked then." She reaches up and caresses his face
Alastor grins at his partner "Oh I was quite the lady killer." He said, his tone full of arrogance
"In more ways than one," Voe offered, and they both laughed to their heart's content.
The year is 1919.
"Alastor!"
The hunting grounds he had become so familiar with were just the right distance from his home. Far enough that no one would think of him here, and close enough that he could always hear his mother's call. Alastor decided there was enough dirt over the hole and started returning. He left the shovel out back and entered the house, anxious to know what it was his mother needed. He entered through the back way, pretending he was there the entire time. He entered the kitchen, his mother's back to him
"Alastor! Alas- Oh! There you are!" She caresses her son's face "Please try to come when I first call you alright? I get worried,"
"Of course Maman," he gives her a tiny smile
She turns her back to him and he walks around to face him "I just wanted to tell ya that I'll be out 'til dark so please don't wait up for me. Mr. and Mrs. Hebert want a whole lotta suits and dresses for the entire family tonight. Cook yourself some dinner and please finish that yardwork today, Mr. Doucet wants them delivered first thing in the morning."
He nods, leaning on the table "Which flowers did his wife order again?"
"The lobelias," she answers while slipping on a jacket "But only the white ones," she pulls her purse over her shoulder "Have them cut, trimmed, and potted before I get home because I know you'll forget if you don't and it would be really helpful if I didn't have to do it myself, okay?" She kisses his forehead
"Okay,"
"Have a good night sweetheart! Be safe!" and out the door she was
Alastor looks through the kitchen cabinets to see what he would be able to cook for himself as well as for his mother to eat when she got home. Perhaps he could treat her to a dessert as well? If he could find the right ingredients. His mother was a huge fan of Bananas Foster, but never splurged on ice cream for herself. Alastor cut up meat and vegetables as he thought of all the tips he had been collecting from the deliveries he'd made with the intent of using them to buy something special for his mother. Nothing big, since he knew she wouldn't ever allow him to spend that much money on her, but maybe some ice cream just to make her favorite dessert. As he mixed the chopped foods and let them cook on the stove, he retrieved the tips from under his clothes in his drawer.
A carton of ice cream was 20¢ and when he went to count the coins he'd collected, he came up with only 10. He could go and buy his mother a banana split, but he wanted to make this gift with his own hands. The anger made him warm inside, the heat rising from his fingers and spreading throughout his body, all the way to the top of his head and the tips of his toes. He spins around and flings the useless change around his tiny bedroom, hearing the coins clatter on the floor. Leaning on his dresser, the scent of burned food hits his nose and he looks up in shock and worry.
His fear is recognized when he gets back down the stairs, the food he had so carefully prepared had burned on the stove, which meant that neither he nor his mother would be eating tonight, seeing as they would be getting paid tomorrow morning and only then would they be able to buy more groceries. Alastor angrily throws out the burned dinner and slams himself down in one of the kitchen chairs dramatically, hearing the wood creak. He held his head in his hands, silently waiting for the stove to cool down. Was it so wrong to want the luxuries that he so often saw people like the ones they sold to take for granted?
Alastor enjoyed potting plants, he'd roll up his sleeves and get caught up in the dirt, which may have been why he was so good at digging holes. It helped that he took an interest in the flowers they grew. Lobelias, Magnolias, Irises, Azaleas and much more. It may not have seemed like the most 'manly' way to spend one's time but his mother took her time to teach him, so Alastor couldn't care less. Getting covered in the dirt made him feel like he was doing something like he was earning his way.
20 white lobelias cut, trimmed, and potted, ready to be delivered. Alastor wiped the sweat off of his forehead, some of the dirt on his forearm wiping onto his face. He stood to look at his work before bending to pick them up and carry them inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a young lady in the street. She's bent over, picking up a pocket watch. When she stands she continues examining the watch, a trolley approaching her fast. He didn't know if she was deaf or dumb but she wasn't moving. It's as if she had no idea that vehicles drove on the road, Alastor looks back and forth between the woman and the flowers. he rushes toward her.
He launched forward, grabbing her wrist, yanking her out of the street, and holding her waist to keep her stable. Her hat had fallen over her face, but he could still see the plump lips under it.
"What were you thinking?"
She breathes out through her mouth "Who are you, my father?"
"I believe thanks are in order,"
She tilts her head up "I suppose they are," her voice smooth and soft "Thank you," she says, clear that she didn't want to
He lets go of her waist, letting her hands-free to readjust herself. Alastor clears his throat, looking down at the girl's expensive and neat clothes.
"Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you." His breath was stolen as he gazed at the girl before him "Quite a pleasure." he sticks his hand out
"Vera," she responded, lifting her hat with her other hand while looking upwards at the man who saved her "Vera Bates." she takes and shakes it. She looks down, seeing dirt spots on her arms and dress, she does her best to dust them off.
"What brings you to this area, bunny?" Alastor questions
She continues dusting herself off "How do you know I'm not from here?"
Alastor crosses his arms "To pale kreyol?" he raises his eyebrow smirking
"What?"
"Exactly,"
She scoffs "You did not know that when you forcibly yanked me out of the street," she huffs
"Well, now I do,"
She rolls her eyes "If we all stuck to English, I could fit in,"
"That's a load of applesauce," he rolls his eyes
"Why?" She looks somewhat offended
"Look at how you're dressed, does that look like you belong here?" he pulls on her sleeve "Around here we ain't afraid to get dirty,"
Vera crosses her arms "Fine, I'm visiting with my family and I might have wandered a bit, are you happy?"
Alastor looks the girl up and down, his tongue rolling over his teeth "Where you from?"
"New York City," she puffs out her chest, "The city that never sleeps,"
"And I bet you're proud of that aren't you?"
She looks taken aback "Of course I am! New York is so advanced! It has the skyline, Central Park, amazing food, music, and of course…Broadway," her eyes sparkle "It's practically the cultural center of the world,"
He scoffs "I beg to differ, we have much better food and music. Plus we got theaters too,"
"But not Broadway,"
"What does it matter?
"I want to be an actress!"
Alastor sniggers at the thought, barely able to contain his amusement
"What on Earth is so funny?"
"Doll please, everyone knows that radio is the future,"
She tilts her head to the side "Radio?" she scrunches her brows "Well I have nothing against radio, but it has nothing on the stage,"
"The stage is entertaining. But radio is life-changing."
"You can't even see people on the radio! The stage can take you to a different world!"
He leans down "So can radio. And being on the radio isn't a useless pipe dream,"
"At least there already is someone like me on the movie screens. You think they would let a boy like you on the radio?" Her words are filled with venom, and it's enough to immediately stop Alastor's chortling.
"And what exactly is a boy like me?" he leans forward
"You're weak!" she spits at him "You're thin, like you haven't eaten a day in your life, and you hardly sound like a man at all. Nobody wants to hear some little sissy yappin' on the radio!" she grins as she knows that her hurtful comments have landed
"Says the girl who doesn't know that cars drive on the road,"
"Oh dry up, ya rag-a-muffin!"
"You're on my property, dollface! So get a wiggle on! Wearing your glad rags in the middle of the week,"
"These are my regular clothes!" She tosses over her shoulder and storms away from him
"Whatever you say doll," he calls after her. She flips him the bird as she walks off. He pretends to be offended, "Oooh, rude doll."