♪ You get what you ask for ♪

[Skylar]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

This RP takes place on Saturday 11th April 2015.

Ric:
Now that things have settled between Skylar and I, I could take care of some things with Dickwad Dillon. I owed him a couple of punches to the face in the least, and something extra for always being all too willing to stick his dick in Skylar at any chance he could get. No, I'm not jealous, but the guy could have at least waited until things were sorted out, if she had wanted to get a divorce or an annulment after all. I stood with my back against the wall and a small blade in my hand, picking at the dirt beneath my fingernails as I waited for him to do his rounds.

Dillon:
I jump though the portal and while I don’t have to go through the entire length of the sewers anymore, I still can’t avoid it. This place is seriously ******* disgusting. Good job I no longer have to worry about my footwear I guess. I keep these shitty trainers at the depot for when I have to come this way. Still. I go home smelling like crap. I swear if I didn’t love that girl I’d tell her to collect her own damn swords and ****. Yeah. I know. I’m her frickin’ puppet. She could just order my arse down here. Hmm… Maybe I’ll make her do that… make her feel guilty about using me. All this keeping her secret ******** is getting old. Already. Stupid ******* *****. And now she’s ******* married to that low-life. Why can’t she see he’s a ******* waste of space? The guy's a psycho. I’m not gonna let him put his hands on me again. It felt like he was sucking the life out of me the other night when he grabbed a hold of my shoulder. I really should tell Sky that. It’s not ******* natural.
This ****’s been on my mind a lot recently and I really don’t have anyone to talk to about it. I’ll probably end up spilling my guts to her sire at some point because the guy seems the sympathetic sort. He was good to Sky when she needed him. Can’t fault him for that, even if he was a bit of a dick to me.
I’m just about to do my first circuit of the cats when I see him; Roderic. I roll my eyes. I should be scared. Actually I am a little scared. Sky’s not with him and he looks like he’s waiting for someone. Most likely me. Great. My night’s about to get real shitty. I just know it.

Ric:
I see Dillon and nod in his direction before nudging off the wall with a push of my shoulder against the foundation. "Dillon." I say as I approach him, still cleaning my fingernails with the small blade. "Keeping your dick in your pants, lately?" I stand in front of him, but I'm not really looking at him. I'm looking at my nails.

Dillon:
I can’t say I’m surprised by the greeting. The guy’s a nut job. Actually I’m kinda surprised he’s talking at all truth be told. I half expected him to swipe at me with that blade he’s holding. Actually I’m still expecting that, so I keep my eye on the thing. Not that I stand much chance of avoiding it if he does wanna have a go at me.
“In general or just when Skylar’s around?” I ask.
**** me. Why I feel the need to try and antagonise the guy I don’t know. No, that’s a lie. I do know. But really, I should have more self-preservation skills than this.

Ric:
I look up from what I'm doing and just stare at the guy. I realize he's trying to get a rise out of me. I know Skylar isn't going to be ******* him, or letting him **** her any time soon. As much as he wishes. "You can do whatever the **** you like with anyone other than my wife." I say the last word with a bit of emphasis as my gaze hardens. "Reminds me. If your dick ever comes near her again, it'll be gone. And since you're human, tip: It doesn't grow back."

Dillon:
Now there’s a scary thought. I wish I could say I let the words slide off my back like water but they don’t. I swallow a little too obviously and have to force myself to cross my hands over my chest like I don’t give a ****.
“Whatever dude. I have a tip for you too. Your ‘wife’ always comes back to me. Always has. Always will. You’re acting like she’s totally innocent in all of this. I’ve never forced myself on Sky. Wouldn’t do it before and sure as **** couldn’t do it now. I’m a little ashamed to admit it, but that girl is a hell of a lot stronger than me. So all things considered. I don’t think you need to be warning her off of me. I’m her puppet too in case you forgot. All she has to do is tell me to stop… and mean it… and I’d have no ******* choice in the matter.”
I’m trying to stand my ground but it’s a little difficult to do when he’s armed and I’m not. I stopped bringing a weapon down here the moment I realised I could outrun the walking dead that seem to inhabit this place. Depending on how this goes, I may have to start carrying one again. Might go for a gun though. I might be better with one of them.

Ric:
"I read something once." I start out. "In college. Doesn't matter why." I flick my wrist as I drop my other hand to my side and watch the small blade twist in my hand. "A study of sorts. About a dog. There was this dog that got some food from some guy. This went on for a good couple weeks. Same time, same place. Someone wanted to hurt the guy because he pissed them off. The guy was fond of the dog. So, they brought the dog some raw meat with something laced in it, to the same location and the dog got there before the guy that day. And ate it. Dog died." My gaze stays set on the guy. "Point is, Skylar is a creature of habit. She goes back to the familiar, like the dog in the story. Doesn't know better. Doesn't realize that the familiar is doing her more harm than good. Like the dog. Until it's too late. You're a poison, that's hurting Skylar. All of you." I step forward. "Best way to deal with poison is to remove it from the picture."

Dillon:
I laugh. Nervously. But I do laugh.
“Oh man. Do you not know your ‘wife’.”
I shake my head in a disapproving manner like someone might do to a child. Though the gesture isn’t accompanied by the usual tutting noises and finger waving.
“If she hears you comparing her to a dog. She’ll be pissed. And just so you know, she doesn’t like being called predictable or normal either. And your story kinda implies she’s both. Man. I should have pocket dialled her the moment I saw you. You’d be the one in the dog house then, not me.”
Oddly, that’s kinda how it feels. Yeah, it’s only been a few days but she’s acting different. Avoiding me and stuff. This **** is effecting the band and the sooner she realises that, the sooner she might actually put the blame on the person who deserves it and that just so happens to be the guy I’m looking at.

Ric:
Dillon talks and I shrug my shoulders. To me, Skylar is predictable. Has a routine in the things she does. If he didn't know or understand Skylar after all the years he's known her, then he didn't really know her and he wasn't really a genuine friend. Dillon wanted what he couldn't have, even if I wasn't in the picture and the best he could do was '**** talk,' me. He could tell Skylar whatever he wanted about our conversation. That didn't bother me. Or if she heard it, that didn't bother me either. What did bother me was his incessant need to talk himself up. It was pitiful. I don't understand the friend's she has. The blade that was being twisted is pulled back quickly and tossed at Dillon's right shoulder. It connects and lodges itself in the flesh of his shoulder and I just give a very small, yet grim smile to the guy.

Dillon:
I should have seen it coming. I kinda did see it coming. Me and my big mouth. Obviously the guy doesn’t like me correcting him. The blade buries itself in my shoulder and white hot pain radiates in every direction. I grab for the hilt and begin to pull it out, only I quickly stop cos god knows what kind of damage it’s done and I’m no anatomy expert; so bleeding to death because I pulled the ****** out probably isn’t my best plan.
“What the **** man? Is this how you get your kicks? You go around beating on people weaker than yourself? Oh wait. Yeah you do. Is this the same blade you put through Sky’s hand?”
I’m angry and any fear in my voice is gone but still, I’m not stupid enough to try and attack the guy. I look to the blade and wonder if this was one of Sky’s creations. It would be kinda poetic maybe to be being fucked over by something she made him. Stupid cow.

Ric:
"Actually, no. That one I keep for our, uhh, foreplay." I was trying to think of the word I've heard used from other people as my head tilts to the left a little. "She doesn't scream like a ***** when I bring it out." It's a small insult to the guy in front of me. "I'm not the jealous type, so I'm not going to tell you to stay the **** away from my wife. She's an adult. But I thought it was only wise to let you know that if you're dick ever falls in to my wife again, you're dead. In case she didn't pass that message on to you." I look at the blade in his shoulder and then at him. "Any first year med student can get that out for you, patch you up, get you some drugs for the pain and send you on your way. Here's twenty bucks for your cab fare." I fish it out of my pants pocket and push it to the guy's chest and hold it there until he takes it.

Dillon:
Yuck. That has to be the worst thought imaginable. My nose wrinkles as images I’d rather not have flash before my eyes. She’s not into that ****. If she were she’d of told me. I’d know.
“You’re a ******* liar,” I bark the words at him as I try and push his money back at him. “She’s not into that weird arse ****. But yeah. I bet she wouldn’t scream. She wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. Or haven’t you noticed that she’s a stubborn *****. She worries about people thinking she’s weak. So she’ll never let you see you’ve hurt her.”
I take my hand off the hilt of the dagger in my shoulder. It’s not going anywhere and just the weight of me holding it is adding pressure. The thing stings like a mother ****** but much like Sky, I try not to let that show.
“And I think you’re wrong by the way. Non-jealous types don’t go around stabbing people as a reminder to stay away from their girl. A girl who – by the way – is mine, no matter what she’s doing with you. I’ve known her half my life and if you think I’m going anywhere, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Ric:
The guy should have just taken my money and left. Nothing he said really mattered, it was just the fact he kept on talking. It was sad. The way he believed he mattered to Skylar. Sure, I think she cares for him and in some way 'loves' him. Why? I've no idea. I haven't seen any redeeming qualities about the guy. Or any really good skill sets. He picks up shitty blades for Skylar in the catacombs. Any idiot could do that. Really. They could. And apparently whatever sex they had wasn't all that good either. Dillon was expendable in my mind. Skylar, would feel different though. My right hand opens and closes four times as I try and think of a way to hurt the guy without actually hurting him. I'm not one for words, so the whole pissing match is at an end for me. I could beat him within an inch of his life. That works. I lift my left foot up and slam it hard in to the guy's knee cap and wait for it to buckle.

Dillon:
“Seriously?”
I’m in a lot of pain. There’s no way in hell I’m not telling Sky about all this.
“You know I’m not going to a hospital… right? Kinda draws attention when you walk in with stab wounds. So… Go ahead and beat the living **** out of me. Who do you think is gonna take care of me?”
I should shut up. I know this. Of course I know this. But I can’t beat the guy in a fight. It’d be entirely one sided, much like a prize fighter beating on a toddler. Damn. That makes me the toddler doesn’t it? I sigh at the realisation that this guy might actually just ill me and be done with it.

Ric:
I shrug at his question. I don't care who is taking care of him. Not my wife. But knowing her, she'll get her emotions involved and feel obligated to take care of the asshole. Unless. I knew where to stick this asshole until he calmed down and got smart. I raise my right hand and punch the guy hard in the face. Twice for good measure to make sure he's good and unresponsive. I wave to some passer-by as they disappear in to the catacombs further, grab the sack of **** off the floor and hoist him over my shoulder. In a matter of seconds, we're outside a cave and I head in. I drop the guy off and vanish from sight and am a block from the local hospital. As I walk, I vanish from sight, calling the nearby shadows to envelope me before I head in the Hospital. Dillon was going to take care of himself. I head to the pharmacy, which isn't all that hard to find thanks to the signs that are every damn where telling people where to find things like the Cafeteria, E.R. and pharmacy. It's closed, because it's well after the hours of operation. Not a big deal though. I'll just break in to the dam thing. I use my shoulder and put all my weight in to it, twice before an alarm goes off. Well, ****. Guess Dillon is going to have to suck it up and be a man. I sprint down the hall and back to the front of the hospital, then head for the gas station a few blocks down. I buy the guy two packs of Tylenol and call it a night. I'm back in front of the cave within twenty minutes. "Here." I say as I enter and head to where I dumped Dillon at.

Dillon:
I don’t feel the second punch cos the first pretty much does the job and blackness envelopes me.
I start to come around. The place is dark. Really dark. And it smells funky. I start to scrabble around, my hands feeling nothing but dirt. I pat at my pockets and seek out my phone. The thing flickers to life and I blink, one hand going to my head as I wonder where the **** I am. That’s when I hear his voice.
“What?”
The dagger is still in my shoulder and for whatever reason it feels a hell of a lot more painful now than it did before. I glance at my screen but can’t quite focus well enough to see if I actually have a signal.

Ric:
"Pain meds. They'll help for, you know, pain." I toss them in his direction. They bounce on the ground and land hear him. "They didn't have any gauze at the gas station. Looked, but no luck." I sit down on the ground, my back to a damp wall and just stare at him.

Dillon:
“What’s your deal? Seriously. Why the **** am I here?”
I look around me, not really seeing very much of anything.
“Wherever hear is.”
I grab up the medication and look at it. Great. Does he really think this is gonna do anything for the blade in my shoulder? Wanker. I glare at him. The guy’s a ******* psycho.

Ric:
"You're here because no one knows where here is. I'm still debating if you're expendable or not." I tell him. "Now shut up and take your pills." My arms come up over my head and rest behind it. My head against the palms of my open hands as I wait for him to take the pills I got him.

Dillon:
“**** you man. You throw **** at me and tell me to take it after you tell me I might be expendable. I’m not ******* expendable. Sky might not be able to see you’re a ******* psycho, but if you kill me she’ll work it out pretty damn quick. Seriously.”
I wince as a shooting pain runs down my spine. My head’s aching, my shoulder is beyond painful and I’m still sat here talking to this wanker. Yep. I was right. This night ******* sucks.
“If you’re not jealous. Why’d you want me gone?”
I ask the question but I doubt he’ll give me a direct answer.

Ric:
"I already explained that." I sigh and stand up. "You're poison to Skylar." I say flatly, my facial expression matching the tone of my voice. "It's not jealousy. It's protection." I don't swear, and I don't stoop down to Dillon's level. I wonder how he and Sky have stayed friends for so long. Didn't she ever think he talked to much about nothing? Then again, birds of a feather and all that. "It would be wise of you to clean yourself up. Because if my wife," I say that last word with a degree of harshness, "has any issues because of your toxic nature, I don't care if she ever does know I killed you. She would be mad at first. Upset even. But when she realizes life is healthier and better without you, you won't be thought of again." A revelation like that might take Skylar years because of her emotions, but time and vampires had no meaning really.

Dillon:
“Poison to her? I don’t ******* think so. I’m the one that’s kept her alive all these years. She’d of slept on the ******* street if it weren’t for me. Or contracted some STD. The girl’s not too shy when she’s had a few. You should be thanking me.”
I scoff and eye the meds he’s brought me. I’m really not sure if I can trust the guy. Maybe I can. Maybe I can’t. Doesn’t look like he tampered with it but it’s difficult to tell what with my phone being the only source of light.
“You know what I hear.”
**** it. Might as well say my piece since things can’t get much worse.
“Denial and justifications. You think she’ll thank you for ‘protecting’ her like she’s some mindless child that can’t be trusted to choose her own friends? And you have serious issues if you think she’d ever let you touch her again if you killed me.”
I shake my head as if I’m disappointed in him. I’m right. He’s wrong. It’s that simple.

Ric:
It's funny how people show their true colors under pressure. I've never denied being a psychopath or something close to it. I won't admit it either, but I wouldn't deny it. This guy thinks pretty high of himself. And it appeared he thought I and Skylar owed him something. I nod, stand and then move over to Dillon. "You're right. I do owe you a thank you. Thank you for being exactly who and what I thought you were." I bend down, yank the blade out of his shoulder, using a foot to use as a counter weight across his chest. "I guess we'll see, won't we?" With a quick flick of my wrist I bring the blade up against his throat and then teleport him to the front doors of the hospital. If they saved his life, well, good for him.

Dillon:
That’s it. I guess I push the guy too far because he’s pretty damn quick to prove me right.
I feel my body shift locations. The scent of copper fills the air as I clutch at my throat. The ****** tried to kill me. Tried and maybe succeeded. I quickly begin to feel tired, coldness creeping into ever muscle, causing them to shiver and react. I hear people screaming around me and then that’s it. Blackness. The kind I know I’ll never wake from. Great. The blonde was the death of me.

Ric:
With the guy gone and more than likely dead, I leave the cave. It serves no purpose to me anymore. Even my subconscious seems to think so, because I don't wake up here anymore. I wipe the blade off on my jeans, stuff it back in my coat pocket and catch the train back to the Bullwood area where I'll cross the river and head back to the apartment. Where Skylar will more than likely be. Especially since I bought her that forge a week or so ago. I do my ritual of wiping off my boots, turning the door handle and enter. I immediately go to search for Skylar, heading to the forge right away. I've a pretty good idea where she'll be.

Skylar:
I’m playing at improving some parts when I hear the door go. Don’t need three guesses to know who that is. I smile to myself but beyond that I don’t react. I can’t make a big deal about seeing him every time he comes home. I mean we’re married and all so that’s kinda expected. Right?
I do however set aside what I’m working on and quickly run my hands over my hair to make sure I look at least a little presentable. He’ll probably moan about the fact that I’m not wearing scrubs but I never put that in my vows. That was just wishful thinking on his part.
“Hey handsome. Good night?”
I place one hand on the back of his neck as I close the distance between us and kiss him twice, as per our ritual. It started out as an experiment of sorts and kinda stuck. Not that I’m gonna complain, I kinda like it.

Ric:
I see her and I open my mouth to tell her that Dillon's dead, but she's in front of me, kissing me. I wait until she's done before I grab her hand and take them off my neck. I wanted to say it was a good night, but thought better of it. "Dillon is dead." I told her before saying anything else. Honesty and communication. I'm starting to become good at these two requirements of ours.

Skylar:
I blink and try to gauge his emotions. He’s kinda cheery. Is he joking? He must be joking. I pull my hand free of his and back hand him in the chest.
“Don’t scare me like that. That’s mean.”
Problem is, even as I say it I half suspect it’s the truth but it doesn’t make sense. I just saw Dillon yesterday and everything was… well it was weird but he was fine. If Dillon were dead someone would have called me. I’d know. I’d know before Ric would.

Ric:
She backhands me. Skylar thinks I'm joking. I wouldn't say it if it weren't true. "It's true." I tell her, then step back. "He's dead. We got in to a fight. Sort of. And I killed him." I wait for it. For the emotions. For Skylar to lose it.

Skylar:
I stare at him. I feel numb. I’m numb. I can’t breathe. Wait. I don’t breathe. My hands are already scratching at my throat as I process that fact. Dillon’s dead? My Dillon? I’m still working on that as Ric drops his bombshell. He killed Dillon. He killed my best friend. I lose it and start pounding on his chest with the sides of my hands that are now balled into fists.
“What the **** Ric? Seriously! What’d he ever do to you?”
I kick Ric in the shin as hard as I can. If he wants a fight I could give him one. Sure. I’ll lose. Just like Dillon apparently did but at least I stand half a chance against him.
“He’s my friend you stupid ****. How could… Why would you…”
I continue to beat on his chest and I’m not holding back any either. I’m pissed as all hell and want him to hurt like I do.

Ric:
I scowl after she kicks me in my shins. The pounding on my chest is heavy, but not surprising. I know how strong my wife is. I start breaking down the questions she throws my way. What did he ever do to me? A lot. From the get-go. But I can look over that. More like what did he do to Skylar? What was he doing to her? I lift my leg up to rub at the spot she kicked me at, as I think about how she calls me a stupid ****. That doesn't bother me. I know it's part of how she is dealing with the news. "Stop." I say in a commanding fashion before I grab at both her hands and try to hold them in one spot. "With friends like yours, who needs enemies, Skylar?" It's an old saying I've heard time and time again, but to me, rang truer than ever. "I'm telling you because I am being honest. Like we said we would be."

Skylar:
I’m not nearly done with him, so I quickly pull my hands from his grip and start smacking him again, only this time I’m batting him with my open palms.
“Being honest would have been telling me you wanted to kill my friend before you went ahead and did it so I could stop you. Urgh!”
I scream as loud as I ******* can and turn to kick the forge. Which as it turns out is a bad plan cos one… it’s pretty sold and two, it’s ******* hot. I hear the bones crunch or crack or something but I don’t really feel anything as my body is fuelled by adrenaline and well… hatred.
“You’re such a ******* arse!”

Ric:
"I wasn't planning on killing him. I was going to rough him up a little. But he kept talking." I say as I watch her try and beat up the forge. I don't know what Skylar imagined she was going to achieve by that, but now she knows how stupid that was. "I'll give you that." I never denied being an asshole either. I cross my arms at my chest and just watch her for at least twenty seconds. "I'm sorry you feel like you've lost someone great in your life. But he wasn't great and he wasn't your friend."

Skylar:
I really can’t believe what I’m hearing. My life just took a very serious turn for the worse and he’s brushing it off like it’s nothing.
“You didn’t just wreck my favourite t-shirt or some **** Ric! You ******* killed someone. My someone. My best friend!”
I run both my hands up into my hair and tangle them there; my fingers clinging to the blonde strands like they might be able to stop me from falling apart. I can’t… I just can’t take it in. Ric knows how important Dillon is to me. I sink to the floor, my back pressed against the burning hot metal but I don’t notice. The numbness sets back in and I’m just sitting there staring at Ric’s feet, my hands still in my hair, my knees at my chest. I rest my elbows on my knees and lower my head. I don’t know what to do.

Ric:
"The guy doesn't deserve to be your best friend. Deserved. Whatever." I tell her as she sits down. "Get up." I tell her before I go over by her and attempt to yank her up off the hot metal she's resting against. "He's poison, Skylar." I tell her. "He called you a slut basically. And a lot of other things. That's your best friend? I don't even talk about my enemies like that."

Skylar:
He pulls me to my feet but I don’t want to be in his arms. I don’t want to be anywhere near him.
“Get your ******* hands off me.”
I try to shove past him, so I can make my way into the living room and away from him.
“News flash Ricky, I had a life before you came along and I’d of probably fucked half the city given the chance. Dillon was the only one there to stop me. He’s always there for me. You think he said anything to you he hasn’t said to my face? He’s my best friend. He knows me. He gets me.”
I’m still talking like he’s alive because… he has to be. He has to be alive because I can’t think of him being dead. He can’t be dead. He has to be okay. I don’t even want to begin to imagine my life without him in it.

Ric:
I just stare at her. I always knew Skylar was a little emotional, but now I recognize how insane she is. Great. Marriage was getting better and better. "He gets you? That doesn't even make any sense. Are you hearing what you're saying? He lets you get drunk and pity **** him because the guy gets to get laid by the only woman that would take his **** and not hold him accountable for anything at all. That's real healthy, Skylar. He lets you get **** faced so he can **** you, because that's the only time you let him **** you. What a great ******* friend. If only we were all so lucky." I roll my eyes.

Skylar:
“So what? He never forced me to drink Roderic.”
I pronounce every syllable of his name and it’s clear that his argument was lost on me.
“But he did stop me from making things worse. You think sleeping with some random guy is any better than your friend? At least when I woke up with Dillon I didn’t have to worry about making excuses and getting the hell out of there.”
I need to get out of here. I need to go. To Dillon’s. Only Dillon wouldn’t be there. He’d never be there again. And then the most selfish thought I think I’ve ever had hits me… I have no-where to go.

Ric:
"He never stopped you either." I remind her. "Just so he could always have his pity ****." I glare at her before I shrug my shoulders. "If he was so ******* great, why didn't you just marry that asshole?"

Skylar:
Yeah. Good question. Why didn’t I marry Dillon. Elliot liked him. Thought he was a better match for me even but… I dunno… there was just never anything there on my end.
I sink to the floor. I never made it to the sofa, I now have my back up against a bookshelf. I curl up once more and hug my knees to my chest before I look up at Ric. I can’t believe he’s saying this to me. He doesn’t do jealousy, not with me, so I don’t get it. I don’t get any of it. Why didn’t Dillon just tome home? Why didn’t he run?
“I’m so stupid.”
I mumble this to myself as I lay the left side of my face on my knees and stare at nothing.
“I thought you might… but you don’t… you can’t…”
I close my eyes as the tears begin to flow.
“How could you do this to him? To me?”
I’m talking to Ric but I’m not. I’m thinking aloud. Was I really so stupid to believe that he might love me. That he could love me. I was deluding myself. You don’t do this to people you love. You don’t take away what they love. The people they love. I feel like he’s hacked me to pieces. Poor Dillon.

[Roderic]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
Ric:
Stupid. Well, that summed up her relationship with Dillon nicely in my mind. "I don't, what? I can't what?" I ask her, as my arms cross at my chest. "That I can't stand by and watch some jerk use you? That I don't like the way he talks about you? You're my wife. Should I have let him call you a slut and shrug it off?" I'm confused. I don't think anyone in Altaire would like people calling anyone a slut and people would get mad or upset for them. Was I not supposed to dislike what Dillon said about Skylar? "I'm sorry. I didn't know he was right." Obviously he was if Skylar was fine with him calling her that. And if she was fine with it, then I clearly over-reacted. "You're a slut. Got it." I'm starting to recognize Dillon's worth to Skylar since she's being illogical about this entire thing. I actually have nothing left to say. "I was truthful. I communicated and I perceived things incorrectly. You are right. I am an asshole."

Skylar:
I look up at him, tears shinning in my eyes and glistening on my cheeks.
“You picked a fine time to start defending me. Your family can call me what they like. Dismiss me and that’s whatever. My best friend who knows and loves me calls me a slut and you go mental? He’s my family Ric. He can call me what he likes. He’s earned that right.”
My words are thick with grief and hatred. Of all the times he could pick to actually defend and stand up for me. Of all the people to do it to. Poor Dillon. Dillon whose only crime was probably mouthing off.

Ric:
I facepalm. I'm starting to think I made the wrong choice and should have gotten an annulment. I was honest. I communicated as instructed and I try and do this be a better husband thing, but I suck at it. I remember Velveteen's reaction to hearing I got married and I can't honestly blame her. People like me probably shouldn't get married. Because we suck at it. "Since we're 'family,' does that mean I get to call you whatever I want? If so, I might have a few choice words." I say in an even tone. "If you wanted someone to do as you say and hang on your every shred of attention you should have married Dillon. Or got a dog. That's not mine." I look over to Blackie for some help, but the dog's sleeping on the couch. Damn dog.

Skylar:
“Yes. Of course. You’re supposed to be able to be honest with your family. So you tell them when they **** up. Which you have. Majorly. Or when they’re being an arse. Which you are. And the ******* dog is mine. Not the point I know but I look after him, and I named him. He’s mine. Back on topic though… you, my friends, my family… you get to call me what you like. You know me. You’re supposed to love me. Dillon knows how I get when I’m drunk. Knew. He was there to stop me. He knew when I reached that point that I was going to make a mistake. One I’d regret the next day. Do you get it yet? You killed my best friend. You killed a part of me. How could you do that me?”
I don’t move. I can’t. I just hold his gaze. I’ll be fucked if I know what he’s thinking but sure as hell doesn’t feel guilty. He regrets something alright but from his words, it’s not what he did to Dillon.

Ric:
Dillon this and that and everything in between. "He only 'got you,' because he got to **** you. He was profiting off you." I uncross my arms and move over to the dog, who abruptly hauls tail out of the room and heads to the bedroom. "Let's pour her another drink so I can get in her pants tonight. What a stand up guy." I snort and move away from the couch. "Now that we've come to the agreement on what an asshole I am, Dillon's probably still at the hospital if you want to give him a parting bang. It's what best friends do, right? Be there for the other in every way?" I move to my work bench and start stuffing things in my messenger bag. "No. You know what? **** you, Skylar. And whatever you assume marriage should be. I'm trying and all you can do is whine about your best friend who supposedly understood you better than anyone else. News flash: He was going to die one day anyways. If not tonight, then some other night. The guy always hangs around where vampires roam and other things hang out. If not from that, then from liver failure because you two got drank so much, or maybe from an STD. So **** you, **** this," I make a large motion of the room we're in before adding something else, "And **** the stupid wedding party." Then I flip her off, grab the bag and head out the door. Skylar was delusional, which I knew, but until she settled down, there really was no talking to her. She had extreme tunnel vision. "Don't wait up for me. I think I'll go feed off some vampire slut, get drunk and **** her brains out."

Skylar:
I sit there and listen as he insults Dillon. I half agree with some of what he says but still he didn’t need to die for it. Weren’t we both kind of using one another? I mean when I drink, I’d happily sleep with anyone if I was desperate enough. So it wasn’t all his fault. Though I probably can’t argue that. His words make me angry. I should be pissed off. I am. Kinda. But when Ric goes to leave I really can’t think of anything worse than having him walk out on me in that moment. He was trying. In his own twisted way.
“Please don’t leave me.”

Ric:
I sigh and turn back to look at her. Only to face palm. I don't know why I'm turning back. Or why she doesn't want me to leave. "I don't think this works for us. I don't understand things." I wasn't sad Dillon was dead. I don't like the guy, but I also don't know him. He was just another name in the Sunday newspaper in the obits section, to me. "I understand and recognize that he was important to you. But you are important to me. I listened to him say a lot of stuff before I killed him. I've listened to him say a lot of **** for months and not touched him." The guy had it coming. "I think the saddest part in this whole thing isn't that Dillon is dead. It's that you have no self-respect for yourself. Your best friend shouldn't call you a slut and gloat about how easy you are to ****."

Skylar:
I hold out my hand to him and want to slap myself when the first words out of my mouth aren’t to defend my friend or comment on any thing he’s said since he stopped to look at me.
“Would you really cheat on me like Ric?”
I’m referring of course to his comments about going to see some whore. He might already have someone specific in mind for all I know. I’m sure there’s at least one member of his family that would let him feed from them and **** them stupid.

Ric:
That's the only thing she has to say? Or ask? If I would cheat on her? No, I wouldn't. Could you imagine the drama? Too much. I don't like drama. I hate it. And I can only deal with one woman at a time. "Maybe." I say with a shrug. If I say yes, I would be lying. If I say no, then I think that gives Skylar some sort of power over me. Like she could do whatever she wanted and treat me however she wants and know that I wouldn't do anything about it. I just look at her. Dead in the eyes.

Skylar:
He doesn’t take my hand and when he says maybe my heart sinks. I really didn’t think I could feel any worse than I already did, but apparently I can. I bring my hand back to my knees and hug them all the tighter before I lay my head on my knees. My marriage was fucked up. Ric was right. He didn’t understand things. Hell, I didn’t understand things. Though oddly… I’m not sure if we can blame all this on a piece of paper and a few vows, no matter how important they might be.
“I couldn’t do that to you.”
I mumble the words into the small void between my legs and stomach. I ache so bad with an emptiness I can’t even begin to describe. If he leaves now, this is likely where I’ll still be when he comes back, if he comes back, and they’d be no Dillon this time to go for help.

Ric:
"Really? Even if Dillon was alive?" I find it hard to believe. Especially with how much Dillon loved to remind me that Skylar would always go back to him and each time we had problems, she did just that. Or the fact that she loved to claim him as her best friend because he kept her safe in some weird way I didn't understand. "No. I wouldn't. I've already stated numerous of times that I will never marry or date anyone else. If we don't work out, then that's it." I shrug. I can't deal with a new set of women’s problems. They all came with too many.

Skylar:
“No. Even if he were… alive.”
I’m mumbling and feeling sorry for myself. I know it. Ric likely knows it. Though maybe he doesn’t, he’s not very good with emotion after all.
“You don’t have to date or marry someone to feed from and **** them. That’s a one night stand. That would be cheating. We didn’t break up Roderic.”
I turn my head in his direction but really all I see is the lower half of his body.
“Unless you’re leaving me for good. Is that what you’re doing? Are we over? Again.”

Ric:
"Don't you want me to go?" I ask her. "I killed your best friend. My progression has not been successful." I lean against the wall to look down at her.

Skylar:
I lift my head from off my knee and look up at him.
“No. I don’t want you to go. I want you to not have killed him. I want things to be good between us. Like they were. Earlier tonight. The fact that you progress at all is a frickin’ miracle.”
I wipe my tears away using the sides of my pointer fingers and then rub them against my jeans to dry them.
“It’s fucked up Ric. You’ve gone from one end of the spectrum to the other overnight. One minute you don’t seem to give a **** what anyone says about me. Even when they insult me to my face in our home and then next you’re what? Beating the **** out of my friend for something he’s said a million times before?”

Ric:
I frown when she seems surprised I have made progress. I believe I have made more progress with her in a shorter amount of time than that with some of my faction mates. "He shouldn't have ever been allowed to say it so freely." I say, then put the bag down. "Progression is essential. I have said that time and time again in different circumstances." I remind Skylar. "I'm sorry I killed your friend." Only because she's really bothered by it. But I don't say that part. Or add in the 'douchebag' part to the word friend.

Skylar:
“What changed Ric? Why do you suddenly give a ****?”
My words could be quite harsh if I added the right tone to them but I’m not angry, I’m confused. I don’t understand when he suddenly decided he was going to defend my honour. He’s said he’s sorry and I think I believe him, but is that enough? How do you love someone that can kill someone like that. That’s when I realise I don’t actually know like what. I don’t know how many times he hit him, stabbed him or anything. All I know is that he didn't survive.
I hold my hand out to Ric again. I shouldn’t. I should probably leave him. I mean I found the strength to leave him because he couldn’t say he loved me and yet now, now when he’s killed my closest friend, here I am reaching out to him. Drawing him to me. I know it’s silly but I can’t lose them both; not in one night.

Ric:
"I don't know." I tell her honestly as I look down at the hand she's offered. I take it and pull her up, because I think that's what she wants me to do. "I've been trying to figure this," I point between the two of us, "Out. The marriage thing. So I'm reading things online and asking around." I know it's not all that. The pieces online that seem to be written by women mostly. But what better source than to a woman? Wouldn't women know what women wanted? But I noticed it before then. When I started calling my apartment our place. Our space, really. I'm protective of my space and the things in it. And Skylar is almost always in it. Therefore, Skylar is something I own. Sort of. It's hard to explain, but I want to protect Skylar as much as I want to protect my supplies. My workbench, my computer and even the rug at the front door. "I don't know. I'm sorry. About Dillon." Dickface Dillon is what I want to say, but I don't.

Skylar:
I get pulled to my feet and sort of half laugh. I manage to stop that though as he starts talking and I just stand there, my hand in his. He’s explaining and he’s serious. He’s been researching marriages. He’s kinda funny. The laugh I stifled earlier starts up again. I laugh to the point that I’m double over and it hurts and yet I still don’t let go of his hand. I don’t know what to say? What to do? My life is so ******* weird. Seriously. I wanted Ric to care about me. To be as protective of me as he had been of Ali that time at that party and well… Now he was. Only he’s worse. I guess this is the perfect example of be careful what you wish for. Oh god. Dillon. If only it wasn’t him. Oddly… The laughter does stop.

Ric:
She's laughing and I can't figure out why. I don't think I've said anything funny. I take my research very seriously. "It's true. I did look online." She must believe me because by now she's stopped laughing. "It's not funny. I don't know where else to collect research. If you have any suggestions, I'm all ears." I don't say it, or even look it, but the fact Skylar laughed at my attempt to figure out marriages bothers me a little.

Skylar:
The laughter stops as quickly as it starts and while he’s pleading his case I squeeze his hand.
“Oh babe. I don’t know who’s worse. You or me. You for killing Dillon. Or me for wanting to forgive you. It’s fucked up. It’s all so fucked up. And you’re researching marriage. We aren’t normal. How do you prepare for not normal? What happened to us being us? Oh god Ricky… we are so fucked up.”
I start laughing again. I can’t help myself. I’ve seriously lost the plot. We’ve lost the plot. I don’t know when, why or how but it happened.

Ric:
Fucked up. Yeah, maybe I was. Maybe she was too. If she was, then I was. Nothing I did was 'normal.' I think she's on the verge of some sort of mental breakdown or break. She's laughing and she's not stopping. Our hands are linked, so it's not hard for me to yank her over and put a hand over her mouth. I stare into Skylar's eyes and just hold her there, enjoying the silence. Our eyes are locked and my face isn't that far from hers as I pull my hand away from hers and grab the knife I have in my pocket out. It doesn't even register with me for the time being that this is the knife I used to kill her best friend, before the tip finds its way at her neck and I drag it ever so lightly across an inch or so of her flesh. It's not a deep cut by any means, but I enjoy the sight of it. It's not long after that my gaze leaves hers, my fangs are in her neck, and all of me is trying to help her forget Dickwad Dillon.

Skylar:
He covers my mouth and just looks at me. It’s one of those times. The times where he wants me to be quiet. Do I want to be quiet? Maybe? He’s eyes hold mine and I stop laughing. I’m still. I’m still and I’m numb and I want to cry. He holds me at knife point, the tip of the blade pressing into my skin and for a moment I’m thankful. I can feel it. The blade. I feel it move across my skin and close my eyes. Odd as it might seem… I trust him.
He bites me and the usual wave of euphoria floods through despite myself, I giggle as I always do and my legs buckle. I wrap my arms around him and use him to support myself. This was a dirty trick on his part and I know it but still I don’t pull away.
“Oh god Ricky. This is so wrong.”
It’s beyond wrong. I’m married to a killer. He killed my best friend and yet here I am practically panting for ‘it’ in his arms.

Ric:
I haven't gotten too far before I'm hit with a memory of Skylar's. The fact that she's telling Dickface Dillon that she's married to me and it's never going to happen again is heard. I don't care how it came up, just that it somehow came up and it appears she has to remind him that he isn't sticking his dick in my wife anymore, makes me confident that I made the right choice. Even if Skylar doesn't agree. She says it's wrong. What we're doing and probably to an extent who we are. Or why we do the things we do, even. But I don't care. And I tell her that too. "I don't care." I say after ripping my fangs out of her neck. I bring the back of my hand to my lips to wipe her blood off before I give her a kiss. And then another one as I glide the blade over the flesh of her abdomen. My lips don't wait to follow too long after the blade.

Skylar:
He says he doesn’t care and I definitely believe that as he draws the blade across my stomach. Stupidly, as he’s enjoying the taste of my blood and causing me to feels things that I have absolutely no right to feel in this moment I pull my t-shirt over my head and then run my hands through hair.
“I should hate you.”
I say this and look down at him. It’s true. I should. Maybe I even do a little. Wait? Do I? No. I hate me. I’m the one to blame. All of this is my fault. Ric was trying. Okay he got it wrong at times and when he did he got it spectacularly wrong but still… he tries.

Ric:
I look up at her and shake my head. "I don't believe you." I bite the flesh above the side of her hip bone, eyes still on her face. "But for shits, prove it. Prove you hate me." I don't believe she does. If she did, she would have left, right? Still, a part of me knows I might be playing a dangerous game. What if she was telling the truth and left? I'd just summon her back to me. And maybe keep her tied to the bed. Not in the Skylar sense of things. "Show me." I dare her before my face is right before hers.

Skylar:
He starts to challenge me. Apparently he missed a vital word in the sentence. That or he actually wants to rile me up.
“I said I should. I didn’t say I did.”
I correct him as I look into his eyes.
“Do you want me to hate you? Because I could try.”
It’s my turn to kind of flip it on him. Though maybe I should have asked if he hates me? If he killed Dillon on purpose to punish me for sleeping with him when we were apart? My hands are still in his hair, my eyes drinking in every feature on his face. This might be simpler if I could hate him.

Ric:
I groan as she picks apart what I've said. I heard what she said, but I kind of wanted to see her being a little feisty. I had to admit, I didn't mind her being rough with me a little earlier. Even if it was in bad taste. "No." I admit with a shake of my head. "But the, what do you call it? Roleplay? Seemed interesting." I start to pocket the knife with another sigh.

Skylar:
“If I can play at hating you, you can play at loving me.”
I don’t think he’d be playing. You don’t do what he did unless you care about someone but I really can’t think about that now; what he did. Correction. I don’t want to think about that now. Or ever. I pull my hands back and place them at my side I look Ric over and then stare into his eyes. If he wants me to hate him. Fine. I’ll hate him. I smack him as hard as I can across the face with my open hand. It tingles but I smirk and ignore the pain that radiates up my wrist.
“Tell me you love me Ricky.”

Ric:
Skylar's crafty, I'll give her that much. I've always known it, deep down, but I think this takes the cake. She smacks me and it stings a little. No, it stings a lot. I'm surprised she not only slapped me, but slapped me a good one. I pocket the knife so I can rub at my cheek, my gaze dead locked on her. "Sorry, princess. I barely felt that. Got to do a little bit better than that. Sell it." I chuckle softly as my other finger pokes at the slice on her abdomen. I bring a finger up, stick it in my mouth and lick it clean in one motion.

Skylar:
“You ******* liar.”
I shake my hand out as if it hurts – which it does – and smack him again. It’s kind cathartic actually. I smile at him.
“How’s that babe? Feel that one?”
I don’t give him a chance to answer before I whack him with my other hand. I’m not competently ambidextrous but I’m damn close. I’m just as powerful with my left, as I am with my right.
“Say it Ricky. You know you want to.”

Ric:
I do feel that one. And the one after it too. I snarl, wrap a hand around her neck and slam her against the wall behind her. Skylar summed it up. We are fucked up, but I don't mind it. I hold her against the wall, my hand still around her neck as I try to speak. My lips are dry and suddenly my throat has gone dry too. Just thinking about saying those words makes me nervous. Bothers me. "Iloveyou." I say like one big sentence so I can get it over and done with. I let out a breath of air, release my hold on Skylar's neck and look at her. "There. I said it." I lean down and give her two quick kisses.

Skylar:
He grabs me by the neck and while it startles me, it doesn’t scare me. Though I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have to re-explain this role playing thing later, since he’s supposed to be playing love to my hate.
He says it and it thrills me. For a moment I’m not sure if he’s playing or not but just before he said it I felt his nervousness. I think he meant it. He kisses me and I kiss him back but the moment his lips leave mine for the second time, I forcefully shove him away from me.
“I ******* hate you.”
I say the words like I mean them. I take everything I’m feeling – all the rage, confusion and sadness – and shove him back again.
“Still wanna play Ricky? Hand over that blade and let’s play.”
I hold out my hand to him. I don’t much care what his answer is, it’s kinda obvious where this is going.
“I’ll make you say it like you mean it.”

Ric:
She shoves me away and keeps up the charade. Only, if I didn't know better, I wouldn’t think it was a charade. She keeps shoving me and then asks for the small blade I have. Her hand is held out and I shrug and give it to her. So what if she stabs me? Cuts me? It'll heal. And I'm not really afraid of the umbra either. If she manages to kill me. I realize as I think these things that I feel a little excited. The idea of Skylar hurting me, excites me. I hand over the knife to her with a shrug with my one hand, while the other grabs her wrist and brings her back to me. "I meant it." I tell her as the knife in my hand connects with hers and I hold it there for her to take possession of. "If I said it, I ******* mean it."

Skylar:
He hands over the blade and I look at it. Did I make this one? Kinda not the point. He’s got a hold of my other wrist and he’s telling me he meant what he said. What do I do with that? Are we still role playing?
“Stop breaking character. You’re supposed to be love to my hate. Remember? Though while we’re on pause… I should confess I’ve never actually cut someone before. Any rules I should know about? Areas to avoid?”
I play with the blade in my hand, my other still in his possession. I need to get the weight of it. It feels good, but then I’m used to handling this kinda thing. I’m just not used to actually using this kind of thing.

Ric:
"If I were human, I would say yeah. But-" I shrug. "Everything else will heal." Once she has the blade, I let go of her hand and think about all the things she does. How affectionate she is. How much she touches me, even if it isn't always welcomed and surprises me. No, sometimes she flat out scares the **** out of me with the things she does. My hand goes around her neck and I bring her face to me so I can kiss her lips an even two times. My hand lets go of her wrist and I start touching her. All over. There are no boundaries or off limit places to where my hands explore. Though, as I keep on going, my hands begin to shake and then my head shakes too. "This is ******* stupid. I said it." I let go of the back of her neck and start to walk away.

Skylar:
I get my answer and then I get… well… I’m not sure what I get. It weirds me out when Ric gets like this. It’s not that I don’t want or welcome this kind of affection from him, I’m just not used to it. I shrug and go with it. Until he all but gives up.
“Who told you, you could stop?”
Okay. So maybe I’m not hate. I sound more like a dominatrix. I better try harder.
I shove him and shove him again. I keep shoving him till his back is against a bookshelf. I bring the blade up and place the point of it to his neck like he’d done to me. I can’t do the whole cutting and licking thing. His blood isn’t to my taste. Though… I don’t actually know that for certain as the only vampire blood I’ve ever tasted is my own.
I put a little bit more weight behind the knife and the skin splits beneath it. I wasn’t really sure at what point that would happen so it takes me by surprise and I hesitate. I need to get my head in the game. I pull the blade back and look at the black substance that oozes from the wound. It looks like oil. Or liquorice. Yeah let’s go with liquorice. I lean in and sniff it. It smells funky. But oddly like him. I have no idea what possesses me to taste it at this point but I do. I run my tongue over the wound and shiver. I’m really not sure if this is something I want to get used to.

Ric:
She doesn't let up. Skylar's back to shoving me until she's manipulated me to where she wants me. I'm surprised she has the knife to me, only because Skylar's all non-violent, which I don't mind. But I don't mind this either. A small smirk edges up on the corners of my lips before she cuts my skin open and I snarl at her. That was unexpected. Completely. Sure, maybe the idea of her threatening me with it was possible, but the idea of her sticking it in me, realistically? If I went off percents, I would say less than a one percent chance of that happening. Hell freezing over might happen first. If you believe in that place. I don't know what Skylar wants in ways of showing her love, but I can't be like her. It's just not who I am. I take the opportunity of her getting a taste of me and use it to my advantage. I feel her shiver and in the next second, I'm grabbing her roughly and pinning her to the bookshelf. Hard. So hard, a few of my books go toppling from the shelf. I hear them hit the floor and it makes me cringe. I hate disorder when it comes to my possessions. I want to pick them up, so badly. It makes my skin tingle. "Look what you made me do." I say in an accusing tone as a hand goes to her neck and keeps it against the bookshelf. I lean forward and kiss her. Hard. Demanding. Eagerly and roughly. Until her bottom lip bleeds and I've got her blood in my mouth. My other hand grabs at the top of her pants and I'm undoing them. Ripping them off, to be exact. If she fights me on it, I'll push her against the bookshelf again, harder each time until Skylar submits. Once they're off, I pick her up, put her on a shelf and, well, try and show her how much I love her.

Skylar:
Ric freaks and the game is over. I’m oddly relieved truth be told; I’m much better at love. Yep, I’m definitely a lover and not a fighter. Next thing I know, I’m getting blamed for the mess he’s making, made. I’m about to deny the accusation but he silences any response I might want to make with a kiss. I’m lost. Lost in desire. My grief forgotten; for now. I can barely move with him against me and every time I try he fights to keep me where I am, where I was. My arms are around him, the blade still clutched in my right hand and while concentrating is difficult, I force myself to throw the blade aside. I know my luck, and one or both of us would have ended up hurt if I didn’t. That’s the last conscious decision I make for a while as our bodies entwine.
When we’re done, I find I’m disturbed by the person I’ve become; all this time I thought I was the one pushing at his boundaries and now I find he may have pushed at some of mine and obliterated others. God help me, because as much as I loved my friend, I love my husband more. I, Skylar Elouise Hawthorne, am in love with best friend’s killer.