♪ Date with Daddy ♪

[Skylar]

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

This RP takes place on Wednesday 22nd April 2015.

Skylar:
I finish my post and hit submit. I don’t much mind teasing Papa Bear in public. He’s used to me. Though to be fair I’ve been like that since day one. It’s just who I am. It probably wasn’t a wise idea to semi-threaten the clientele though. I’m pretty sure he knows I wouldn’t do anything. Not really. Well… not intentionally. I dunno. It’s more likely to be me stripping on stage and then I have to explain that to Ricky. Though I don’t remember there being a no public nudity clause in any of our vows or rules; I might need to think about adding that one for both our sakes.
I knock back what I think is my fifth shot so far and tap the bar so Shelly knows I want a refill. I’m usually a little friendlier than that these days - when I’m here anyways - but tonight’s already kicking my arse. I’d explained that to her though when I came in. I sat down. Told her I’d had a really shitty month and that today was one of the shittier days and then ordered my usual. I like the girl actually. I like all the staff here. This place… well it’s like home, only better cos well… hello… there’s a bar.

Elliot:
Elliot had not been at the bar. Although it was where he usually haunted—it was where he normally ended up—he had other businesses to take care of, too. There was a water leak on the boat. Ironic, really. And he had to meet the plumber after-hours to get it fixed. At least it was just the plumbing rather than something wrong with the hull. When you hire a boat out to people who like to party, these things are bound to happen. The boat cost him more in upkeep than everything else put together.
He had been perusing the forum on his phone while he waited for the plumber; luckily, the guy was almost done, otherwise he’d have had to text Skylar to tell her he wasn’t going to be able to just show up this time. Elliot didn’t immediately respond, but it was about half an hour later that he showed up at the bar. There was something about the tone of the message that signified something was wrong. And, as he rounded the corner of the bar to join Skylar on the customer’s side of it, he was hit with the dourness of her mood. She was upset about something. Elliot steeled himself, wondering if he was going to be counselling her some more about a relationship he did not agree with.

Skylar:
By the time Elliot arrives I’ve stopped counting the shots.
“Daddy!”
I sing out the word like an overly excited child as I hop off the barstool and stagger to stay upright on my heels. Why the **** I still wear the things I don’t know. I’m married now. I could probably go back to trainers. I doubt Ric would give a **** either way. Probably never did. But still. They’re kinda sexy with tight jeans. Least I think they are.
I make to Elliot and wrap my arms around his neck. It’s a harder task to accomplish than when I do this to Ric cos Elliot’s like… well I don’t know… a giant; a tall ***, gangly giant of a man with a kinder heart than most. I kinda, sorta love my Papa Bear. In the good way. Not the ickly way.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
I lean against him with my full weight. My arms around his neck are what are keeping me upright at this point, as my feet don’t seem to want to play ball.
I’m not as excited as my behaviour would have people believe though. I’m really ******* miserable truth be told. Sure I’m in love. Ric’s great. If I set aside the whole killing my bestie thing. I just can’t seem to shake myself out of my funk. Not today.

Elliot:
Elliot rolled his eyes at the look given to him by Shelly. Shelly was one of the newer staff members, hired to replace Jessica who’d left to cross the border to America. It had been her goal all along. Elliot could tell, now, that Skylar hadn’t been joking and she was half way to completely sozzled, at this point. Elliot didn’t laugh. He didn’t particularly think it was funny, and never did admire people who liked to drink away their problems.
“You think you’re coherent enough to talk, Skylar, or should we reschedule this for when you’re sober?” Elliot asked. There was a tone of disapproval laced through his words; though he did not intend to reschedule. Instead, he caught Shelly’s eye. “Two long blacks, Shelly. And bring them to the booth by the fire,” he said, cocking his head toward the empty booth that he had spied on his way in. Now, he had to try to manoeuvre Skylar; try to get her there without her falling *** over tit.

Skylar:
“Where are we going?”
I ask the question but my fuzzy mind already has the answer, he just told Shelly exactly where to bring the coffees. Thankfully for Elliot I haven’t worked out that he’s cutting me off yet.
“I like the bar…”
I kinda paw over his shoulder at my beloved bar. It’s the first rule of drinking when you want to get out of your head. Yu stick close to the bar. Close to the alcohol. Any delay in drinking time is just a bad idea and waste of time. I’m kinda good at wasting time. Though… I don’t want to do that today. Or I do. I dunno. I want today to not exist. Yep. That’s it. Today is tomorrow. I decided. Maybe. I’m beginning to think I should have had Ric drug me or something and keep me out cold. He’d probably have done it too if I’d asked.
I find I’m sitting down. I’m not sure when it happened but it happened. I’m on my butt. Good thing too. My feet hurt. I reach under the table and slip my shoes off. It takes a little more effort than it should but I manage.

Elliot:
In the end Elliot ended up half carrying Skylar, letting her go long enough so that she could somehow wobble herself into the booth. Elliot dropped down across from her, flicking the hair out of his eyes. Drunk people don’t bother him, much. He owned a bar. If they bothered him, it would have been a very poor choice in business. He preferred it when people got drunk to be happy, however. Not to numb their senses. It was easy for him to tell the difference—even before he’d developed this weird sixth sense for knowing other people’s emotions.
Long blacks, due to lack of milk, did not take long to prepare. And, what with all the wobbling and stumbling on the way over to the booth—made worse by Skylar’s drunk lurch for the bar—Shelly wasn’t far off with their drinks. She placed them both down on the table and Elliot thanked her, before pushing one directly beneath Skylar’s nose.
“I’m not talking to you until this mug is empty,” he said, voice a low rumble.

Skylar:
I pout and pick up the cup of steaming hot coffee. I drink a mouthful. Or at least I try. I end up spitting it back into the cup and fanning my mouth.
“Hot. Hot coffee.”
I scowl at Elliot like he did it on purpose to punish me. Didn’t he know what I was going through? How I felt? Oh wait . No. No he doesn’t. That’s why I’m here. I look down at the coffee and pout again. Stupid coffee. Why do people always make me drink this. This is Ric’s go-to remedy too. Though… maybe I ask for it sometimes. Okay fine. So sue me. It’s my remedy too. But I don’t want to be clear headed. I don’t want to feel.

Elliot:
Elliot leaned back and shrugged. If it was hot, then they would wait for it to cool down; though, he lifted his own mug to his lips and was able to take a small sip without hassles. Maybe his mouth was numbed to the heat; if he wasn’t drinking whiskey—never enough to get completely drunk, since that one time he’d accidentally sired someone because he was too ******* drunk—he was drinking coffee. Black coffee.
The expression on his face said it all, though. He wasn’t going to sway on this; he was curious, of course. And maybe a little reluctant to hear why Skylar was so down in the dumps. It seemed to always have something to do with Roderic, and it was getting harder and harder to not go and take care of the problem himself. Go straight to the source. But he said nothing. Not until Skylar made an attempt to drink her coffee.

Skylar:
“I don’t like black coffee.”
I grumble this and frown at the liquid. It too was mocking me. Mocking me with its bitterness. Is this what I deserved? Probably. But still. It was stupid. Stupid black, bitter coffee. Apparently no-one in y life cares enough to know how I drink the stuff. Dillon knew. He knew everything.
I sigh. There’s a pang of longing that goes with it. I long for this reality not to be real. I long for time to go backwards. I long for the chance to be able to tell Ric categorically that killing my best friend was never a good idea, no matter how much he might insult me.
I lift the cup to my nose and sniff at it. I like granulated coffee. The kind you can control the strength of. This stuff’s always way too strong for my liking. I crinkle my nose and look up at Elliot to see if he might let me off the hook but there’s nothing about him - nothing I can discern by sight or feeling - that will allow me to believe he will.

Elliot:
Elliot sighed. He was always a big marshmallow, most of the time. And the waves of despair rolling from Skylar alert him to the fact that maybe talking will sober her. Whatever this thing is that she has to talk about might act the same as the black coffee. He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, and levelled Skylar with a stare. Not a hard one. Not an uncaring one. Not an intimidating one. More a searching stare, as if he’d like to just pluck whatever it is out of her brain so she didn’t have to say anything at all. Of course he couldn’t, though.
“Just tell me, Skylar. What’s wrong?” he asked. It didn’t offend him that she didn’t like the coffee, even though in his opinion it was the best brand of the stuff; Shelly was a trained barista so she knew not to burn the beans so that the coffee wasn’t too bitter. Elliot plucked the little satchel of sugar from the plate that Skylar’s mug sat on and tore it open, pouring it into Skylar’s coffee for her, using his own spoon to stir. That should help.

Skylar:
Okay. So I neglected to add sugar. Not my fault y brain didn’t process a small little detail like a sugar packet. Hell I’m half convinced I could be sitting in the damn fireplace and not know it right now.
Elliot’s looking at me. Looking at me like he wants something. What does he want? Am I supposed to down this thing? He’s told me to tell him what’s up but my brain just doesn’t want to say the words.
**** my life.
Why can’t Elliot have that power Ric has. Why can’t I just feed him my blood and let him see it for himself. Not that I was there. Or that Elliot drinks vampire blood.
I sigh.
“It’s Dillon… He… well… His funeral was today.”
I stop there but I’m pouting like a child again. My best friend is dead and buried and I couldn’t ******* go and say goodbye. I was unconscious next to his killer.
I slide the coffee to my left and head-butt the table.

Elliot:
Elliot blinked.
Maybe the news shouldn’t have hit him as hard as it did, but it did. Dillon was only a passing acquaintance, but he was a guy that Elliot had often felt sorry for. For all Skylar’s blasé attempts to make Dillon out to be some crappy human being, Elliot had never listened. The guy was Skylar’s good friend, and Elliot had hoped to get to know him better. He had liked the conversations about music. It was no secret that Elliot thought Dillon was a much better fit for Skylar.
And now he was dead. It seemed so sudden. So… Elliot shook his head. Skylar wasn’t drinking her coffee, at all. Even with the added sugar. Elliot leaned over to squeeze Skylar’s upper arm; to offer the comfort that he could while also feeling like he’d just been hit with a sledge hammer.
“I’m so sorry, Skylar,” he said. He wanted to know how. He wanted answers. But Skylar’s best friend had just died and she couldn’t go to the funeral. He wasn’t so heartless as to demand answers before comforting her, first.

Skylar:
“You won’t be sorry when I tell you how it happened.”
I say this and bring the coffee to my lips once more. Tastes better the second time around but the roof of my mouth kinda stings from that first mouthful. I keep my eyes on Ellie’s as I drink. I need to see how he takes that before I continue. I know what’s coming next and I know he won’t like and I don’t really want to tell him but I kinda have too.
“It’s kinda my fault.”
It is and it isn’t. I mean I could guess that Ric might catch up with Dillon and that Ric might hurt him but I never thought he’d do anything more than rough him up or slash at his arm or something. It’s all he’s done in the past and I’m pretty sure Dillon half deserved what he got those times.

Elliot:
Elliot’s hand pulled back as if Skylar’s words were boiling water sloshed his way. He folded them on the wood, his own still-steaming mug of coffee sitting in front of him; it was almost as if he were cradling the mug close to him, in order to indulge in the scent. But the coffee, actually, was forgotten as Elliot’s eyes narrowed.
Surprisingly, he didn’t think of Roderic straight away. He thought only of Skylar’s lack of sharp teeth when feeding; thought only of Dillon being human, and thriving with that hot blood that even the allurists craved, and needed if they were ever injured. Elliot’s heart dropped like a stone in his chest; he assumed this was Skylar’s fault because she was the one who did it. He shook his head.
“We lose control, sometimes,” he said. “I can’t say it’s not our fault or that it’s forgivable, but all we can do is use our guilt to try to be better, in the future,” he said, slowly. Already trying to comfort without having heard the entire story.

Skylar:
I’m almost relieved to hear him say that. That we sometimes lose control. He’d told me once that we innately violent creatures and I had to hope he’d remember that when I told him how it all went down. Only. I don’t really know the whole story. I only know what Ric told me. What he wanted me to know. But I trusted his word. Ric was a lot of things but he’d never lied to me before, of that I was almost certain.
“I miss him.”
I say, the words filled with sadness. I did miss him too. I loved him. Not like I loved Ric but like I loved Ellie; he was my family. Yeah. It’s kinda twisted to think that way maybe considering the kind of relationship we shared but the kinda love he wanted from me he was never gonna get. I just never felt that way about him. He was… Dillon.
“He didn’t mean to kill him. He didn’t. I mean maybe in the moment he did but he never intended to track him down and kill him. You have to believe that Elliot.”
I’m close to tears and practically begging Elliot at this point. I need him to hear me out. I need him not to blame Ric. But as much as I want it, it doesn’t mean I’m gonna get things to go my way and I know it.

Elliot:
It took a few seconds for it to click. A few seconds before realisation dawned and the weighty, sad concern in Elliot’s eyes morphed into something harder, something angrier. He’d been about to reach out and squeeze Skylar’s shoulder comfortingly, to send her that mental hug, but he pulled back almost immediately.
Of course, the initial reaction was anger. He didn’t like Roderic much, and Skylar knew this. Except she kept bringing this stuff to him that made him like Roderic even less. But he still didn’t have the whole story and, rather than jump to conclusions and start spitting venom in Ric’s favour, he instead reigned it in and took a deep breath.
“Why?” he asked. “How?”

Skylar:
I can feel the anger but to be fair I’d been expecting it. I’d been angry myself after I realised Ric wasn’t joking.
“Well… the how I’m a bit sketchy on. I mean I know the details. I know what the cops said but I never asked Ric what happened.”
I shiver at the thought of it. I didn’t want to know. Even knowing what the police told me was too much. It wasn’t information I wanted. I mean yeah I should know how he died but I don’t want to think of Dillon or Ric in that way.
“They fought a bit and well… Dillon…”
It’s harder to say than to think and I practically choke on the words as I try to explain.
“He… got his throat slit.”
The why is easier, but still. The words sound hollow. I mean there’s no real good reason to kill someone like that. Words are just words. His kid had been a ***** to me and it never bothered him then. But my friend. My best friend says one thing and… yeah… I still don’t understand.
“He says he called me a slut. Or something like it. And well… Ricky doesn’t know how people are. How Dillon and I are. Were. I mean. Friends can talk **** about their friends. I’m sure he never said anything he wouldn’t have said to my face but… Well… And this isn’t like Ric… I’ve never seen him get annoyed like before. He never used to be so… protective. I guess things changed at some point. I don’t really know when… or why.”
And I don’t. It’s all true. And it oddly feels like my fault. I wanted Ric to be protective of me. I wanted him to get jealous once in a while only… yeah… this was… not what I wanted.

Elliot:
Elliot tried to look at it objectively. He tried to see all points of view. Of course, when trying to see all points of view, a person must draw as much as they can on their own experiences. Elliot’s experience was thus; he’d beaten the **** out of Lex just for touching Pi wrong, when it was something that Pi herself had condoned. She’d wanted to feed on Lex, and it was her way of luring him. These were the facts, as Elliot had learned them afterwards. And, at the time, Elliot was with Irene. He wasn’t even with Pi. He should have been able to sit back and watch. No—actually, if he were in his right mind, he should have interrupted but to save Lex’s life, not to take it away.
And recently, he’d not been at all receptive toward Pi’s newest childe, Vada. And, though he’d never wanted to kill Michael, the two of them had never gotten into an argument. Who knows what Elliot would be capable of if the situation got heated enough? And then there was Pi. Elliot had no idea what Pi was capable of. At least she never seemed to take a dislike to Roxette. At least she had reason enough to get to know Skylar, even if it she was a bit late to do so.
In the end, Elliot’s clenched fists unfurled. There was something written into their DNA. “Is he sorry, at least? Has he apologised? Were you angry at him at all or did you just jump straight to defending him?” Elliot asked. These things seemed to happen; but it was how they dealt with them afterwards that mattered.

Skylar:
I think back to that night. It was mainly a blur. I’d been through a myriad of emotions. None of them good… Well… not till the end and I still kinda feel guilty about that.
“I… I didn’t forgive him in the moment. No.”
I blush ever so slightly because while I hadn’t caved immediately, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour before he had me pressed up against that bookshelf.
“I didn’t believe hi at first. That Dillon was dead. Made no sense to me that Ric would know something like that before I would. Then I was pissed. I kinda lost it at him. My emotions were kinda all over the place and then he packed a bag and was gonna leave.”
I reach across the table and take a hold of Elliot’s hand, a look of desperation in my eyes as I stare into his.
“I couldn’t let him leave Elliot. I’d already lost Dillon. I couldn’t lose Ric too. You know what that did to me before. So… I kinda had to forgive him.”
I look away because I’m ashamed of myself in some ways but it was all perfectly natural to me; the way I felt. I was ashamed because I knew I should hate him. I’d tried. I just… Couldn’t.
“He apologised.”
I leave that there because I’m not really sure what Ric was sorry for. There was just as much chance that he was sorry for upsetting me as he was for actually killing Dillon. Guilt was a funny thing and I didn’t really feel that kind of emotion from Ric to any degree I felt it myself.

Elliot:
Elliot tried to put himself in Skylar’s shoes. He tried to imagine what he would do if one of Elliot’s close friends came to stay. What would he have done had Pi killed Irene? What would he do, now, if Irene were to come back and Pi were to slaughter her? Elliot didn’t know. Couldn’t know, until it happened, but he didn’t think that there would be immediate forgiveness.
“He apologised. But was he remorseful?” Elliot asked. He knew that he would eventually forgive Pi if she understood. If, after the fact, she realised what she had done and tried to make up for it. If he believed that, if she could do over, she wouldn’t do it again. It would be a hurdle to jump, and they had had that argument before, about Skylar.
Skylar had a hold of Elliot’s hand and he didn’t pull it away. “I’m worried about this relationship of yours, Skylar. I worry that it’s doing you more harm than good. But that’s just my perception, isn’t it? My opinion. What I see as bad, you might see as good,” he said. He shook his head. He didn’t really know what he was saying. He wanted to rant and rave and tell Skylar she was being stupid, that she should leave Roderic and that he was no good for her. None at all. Who could possibly stay with someone who’d just killed their best friend?
But he didn’t. Couldn’t do that, because Elliot could persuade himself that he wouldn’t be the same were their places switched.

Skylar:
“I dunno. Ric’s… well tricky to read. And he doesn’t really think the same way we do.”
None of this is untrue. Ric is a nightmare to read at times. I’m not sure I’d say he was remorseful though. Just the other day I’d kicked off at him again and he’d all but brushed it off as if I should be over it because that was a week ago.
“It’s not an excuse…”
I pick up the coffee and take a rather large sip of it. This was all doing my head in. I should have done this sooner but I’d needed time and even now it was difficult to tell Elliot; Elliot who could read my emotions as clearly as if they were his own. I still don’t know why I care so much what he thinks. I just do. I guess I can’t bear to have another parental unit write me off the way my parents had kinda done with me.
“Well… Maybe it is. But it’s true. Ric has issues connecting with people so he doesn’t always understand things like he should. And it’s kinda funny that you think my relationship with him is doing me more harm than good. He said something similar about Dillon.”
If nothing else I know the two guys that were most important to me in the world - my immediate family not included - cared about me. They both seem concerned by the company I keep.
“I love him Elliot. I tried hating him. I did. I just… couldn’t.”
I sigh and begin to turn the coffee cup, letting it turn in the grove of the plate it was nestled on.
“He’s never… Well… He’s never had someone like me in his life before. He doesn’t always know what to do. But he’s trying. He’s really trying. And so am I. Because the **** if I know what I’m doing half the time either. I usually bail the moment I start to feel anything real. He scares me. My whole relationship scares me. But… I’m not afraid of him.”
I don’t know if I’m making sense at this point. It’s commitment I’m afraid of and yet try as I might I don’t seem to be able to walk away from Ric. I managed it once and I knew it would be a very long time before I tried that again. If I ever tried that again. I’m drawn to the guy in a way I find difficult to explain.

[Lancaster]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
Elliot:
Elliot was silent for a while. His own fingers nudged and twisted at the mug in front of him as he leaned back in the booth. Skylar was a puzzle that he was trying to figure out and he just couldn’t do it. Pi had changed for Elliot. Or, maybe she hadn’t done if for him, specifically, but she had changed and had softened, just a little. Elliot had changed, too. Hardened, just a little. From where Elliot was sitting, it looked as if Skylar were becoming slave to this feeling she had for Roderic. She was giving everything to him, ever her best friend.
“I get that you know him better than other people do. But what is he giving you in return?” he asked. He doesn’t ask it in such a way that he didn’t believe that Roderic wasn’t giving anything in return. He asked out of curiosity; he genuinely wanted to know.
“He thought that your relationship with Dillon was doing you more harm than good?” he asked. He hadn’t understood that part. Maybe Dillon encouraged Skylar’s drinking habit. But still… a drinking habit now seemed better than this thing that she felt for Roderic. Elliot leaned forward, again. Still very serious.
“I’m just worried you’re going to lose your independence somewhere along the way…”

Skylar:
Sex. Nope. Probably shouldn’t say that. Though I am getting sex out of the relationship. Finally. The question is weird. At least I think it is. So I down another mouthful coffee and wait for Elliot to say his piece.
“What does anyone ever get out of a relationship? I get him. He’s really… well yeah… he’s an arse and he fucks up but he puts up with me and my crap. He looks out for me too. He’s kinda… sweet, in a sour kinda way.”
I start giggling and pull my feet up so that I’m sitting cross legged in the booth. It’s easier to do without my heals on too. I rest my hands on my ankles and rock myself slightly.
“Doesn’t everyone kinda sacrifice some of their independence when they live with someone? I mean ****. Dillon and I were practically inseparable at times and we weren’t even dating.”

Elliot:
“Some independence. Not all of it,” Elliot said. He did agree with that. There were some things that he had sacrificed for Pi and vice versa. He was torn, in the end, to hear Skylar giggle. She was giggling because she was so damned in love and it was good to see her smiling after such a tragic event. But she was giggling because she was in love with the man who’d caused that tragic event. It didn’t seem right to Elliot. It didn’t seem right at all. Rather than voice that opinion, however, he just sighed and let it go.
Skylar was in love with a man that Elliot didn’t approve of and he could try, of course, but it would be hard. Skylar was determined to stay with Roderic and this wasn’t something that Elliot could change. If Roderic could slaughter Skylar’s best friend and she be okay with that, in the end, then she’d forgive him anything. Elliot didn’t like it. But again, he said nothing. He just shrugged.
“I didn’t mean physically. I meant… we change, sometimes, to suit the person we love. Pi helped me to accept, in some part, the more violent aspect of my own nature. There are certain things that I would do for her that I wouldn’t do for anyone else. And she, in turn, has stopped doing some things that I disagree with. And we still have those things that we argue about, that neither of us are willing to shift on. Relationships are give and take. So long as it’s balanced, is all.”

Skylar:
“God Elliot. I’ve destroyed that boy of mine. He’s taken way more than he’s given. Erm… is that right? I mean… well… He wasn’t exactly into any of the touchy feely stuff. I kinda forced that on him. And he let me. He’s changed a lot in that aspect. I’ve not given up who I am. I still do what I want when I want. I might just get a disapproving look when I get home. Or I might get pulled home by that superpower thingy of his. Though I kinda like that. That’s fun. One minute I’m here. Next I’m there. That’s kinda cool.”
I’m rambling because my brain went on a tangent. Oh well. It’s a little more difficult to concentrate than it should be. I’m lucky my mind stayed on topic as long as it did.
Still rocking a little, I take a hold of my cup again. Though really I just pace my hands around it and stare at the bitter sweet liquid.
“Have I changed?”
I ask this as I look up at Elliot. I don’t think I’ve changed any. My surname aside. But what do I know.

Elliot:
Elliot shrugged as he thought about it. But then he nodded. “You are less sure than you were before,” he said. More often than not, Skylar came to him now with some anxiety or woe that was directly connected to Roderic. She was thrown into uncertainty more often, or so Elliot thought. Maybe she would have been thrown into uncertainty anyway, concerning other things if Roderic weren’t in the picture.
Elliot was distracted for a second, too. He was thinking about Pi. How great would it be to be able to summon her to him on a whim? How often did he miss out on feeding because she wasn’t around? Yeah, there were plenty of times he’d yank her to his side without her permission. And he’d give her that lopsided smile so that she would forgive him.
He cleared his throat and drained the last of his coffee. It was cooling, by now; and black coffee when cold tasted far worse than it might have when it was hot. It was always better when it was piping hot. Especially given how cold the vampiric skin is. Elliot liked hot drinks only because they warmed him up from the inside. At least for a little while.
“Just so long as you’re happy,” Elliot said. That was all that mattered, in the end.

Skylar:
“Well yeah. New territory and all that. I’ve never been all that good at the dating thing Ellie. One night stands were more my thing. Or short flings.”
I shrug. I doubt it’s TMI.
“So yeah. Being married and stuff. Kinda new. Having someone I love kill my best mate. Even newer. I’m really not sure what I’m supposed to do about all that. It’s like my brain’s on strike. Alcohol helps. The guys help. But yeah… **** knows. It’s my fault. It’s like I did it.”
I sigh and wrap my arms around myself for comfort. Ric doesn’t do cuddling and the guys all have their girls to console them. It’s weird to need the one person you can’t have. Dillon would know what to do. How to handle me. I kinda just wanna crawl in bed and pretend none of this happened.

Elliot:
“Don’t get into the habit of blaming yourself for everything. All it gets you is a deep dark black hole that you can’t get yourself out of,” he said. He was telling Skylar this from experience. He used to think absolutely everything was his own fault. Still did, a lot of the time. And when people beat themselves up like Skylar was doing now, he could feel it like it was his own guilt. Like maybe he could have done something right in the very beginning to dissuade Skylar from ever getting involved with Roderic.
But then, he would be controlling. A dictator. He didn’t want to be a dictator. He wasn’t a dictator, and he wasn’t about to start being one now. He wasn’t going to start telling Skylar that she shouldn’t be with Roderic. Instead he had to trust her that she knew what she was doing and that he couldn’t know what Roderic himself was thinking or feeling. He had to do as he had always done—try to see this from all perspectives. So he settled, and sighed.
“What do you reckon Dillon would want you to do? Would he want you to sit around blaming yourself and moping or would he want you to celebrate his life instead? Forget about how it happened or why. What’s done is done,” he said.

Skylar:
I blink. What would Dillon want? That’s simple. Me. Me miserable and mourning him. Preferably realising he was the one I wanted all along. I smile at that thought. As much as I love him. I’ve never loved him like that.
“I think he’d want me wailing on his grave like a banshee.”
I tell Elliot with a shrug. I don’t think I’m lying any. He’d probably get a kick out of that. And I guess I could give him one night. I could also go home and kick Ric in the shin. Or I could go buy a chocolate cake and see if I can eat the whole thing. In bed of course. I wonder if I’d make myself puke.
“It just feels so wrong to be happy when he’s no here. You know? The night he… died… Ricky admitted he loves me. And yeah I know that’s fucked up. But I really think he did what he did to protect me. But that means it really was my fault. I know it’s done and stuff and Dillon was like literally buried but… ****…”
I push the coffee away with one hand and bang my head into the table before covering my head with both hands.

Elliot:
Elliot smiled too, even if Skylar couldn’t see it straight away. He shook his head; she probably couldn’t see that either. Dark locks of hair fell over his eyes and he made no attempt to shift them out of the way. “And when have you ever done what Dillon wanted you to?” Elliot asked. From what he had seen, Dillon and Skylar had… well, it wasn’t a destructive relationship but they were often bickering with each other, like a brother and sister might. Even if Dillon would never have considered Skylar his sister.
“How someone else feels about you is not your fault,” he said. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. He couldn’t continue. He couldn’t that things happen that could not be controlled or changed, that they could never foresee and thus no fault could be placed. That all seemed too cliché and basically fucked up. Empty words that would mean nothing. Elliot leaned forward and took one of Skylar’s hands in his own. He held it tight, as if to anchor her to the here and now.
“He lost control. That’s not your fault. It’s not his fault, either. When you lose control you may as well be someone else, in that moment. Not human. Just vampire. When you lose control there’s no humanity left, and without humanity there is no … fault,” he said. “Just animal instinct.” He could not believe that he was defending Roderic. But it was only the honest truth.

Skylar:
I cling to the hand he gives me but I don’t look up. At least not right away. I listen. He was right about me never doing what Dillon wanted. Well. Until I’d had too much to drink and then I really didn’t give a **** what we did.
“You…”
I look up at him, my hair covering most of my face.
“You really think that? That maybe it was just instinct?”
I’d kinda like if that was true. I mean I’m not blaming Ric. Not like I should. So being able to give him a sort of get out of jail free card would be nice. It’s not like this whole marriage thing comes with an instruction manual. And to be honest, even if it did, I probably wouldn’t read it.

Elliot:
Elliot gave that lopsided smile. Not because he was laughing or in any way mirthful, but because it was a mask. He was remembering things that he would prefer to forget. He nodded.
“Yeah, I do really think that. Or, well. I’d hope so, for your sake,” he said, truthfully. “And I know because I’ve experienced it before. I would have killed someone except that I had people there to stop me. Or…” he paused, and attempted to take his hand back except that Skylar was holding it so tight. These were things that he was ashamed of. The guilt clamoured against his soul like a battering storm that wanted to come in and rip the roof off. Elliot took a deep breath and released it, slowly. Although he had glanced away for a second or two, seeking the distraction of the bar, he returned his gaze to Skylar’s.
“I half wonder, more often than not, whether that’s why you’re the only one around. That’s I’ve… turned. There are quite a few that became this because I lost control. And came to myself long enough to turn them, out of guilt,” he said. “So yeah. I definitely think it’s a thing.”

Skylar: I start to straighten my hair out with my free hand. I can feel Elliot’s emotions and he feels worse than I do. Okay. Maybe not worse. But as strong maybe. Maybe not. I dunno I’m still kinda buzzed and loved up and stuff too, so my burden’s not as bad. Maybe. I really should go home and sleep or something.
“What? You beat the crap out of your other kids first then eh? Not quite so subtle as electrocution. I’ll give ya that.”
I look him over and then tug on his hand ever so slightly.
“You know this whole thing is a two way street right? Like any relationship. You’re kids kinda need to make an effort too. Do you feel jipped getting stuck with me? Be honest. I can take it.”
And I can. Probably. I’m fucked up. I’ll be fine, I’m sure.

Elliot:
Skylar was joking but Elliot didn’t laugh. There wasn’t even a twitch of a smile. He just flinched as he recalled, as if it were just yesterday, the way the sword slid so easily through the flesh of Cytherea’s fragile body. The look of absolute horror upon her completely innocent features. As a vampire, she had suffered a lot, too. Far more than she would have had she stayed human. He recalled how ******* good it felt to feel his tight knuckles slamming, again and again and again into Lex’s face. Lex, who he never saw. Never spoke to. At least Lex seemed to have made something of himself, and hadn’t suffered so much. But still. Still.
Elliot did take his hand back, this time. He crossed his arms in front of him as he leaned against the table. Skylar had asked her question and Elliot had heard its like before.
“Okay. Here’s a rule for you. Don’t ever ask me that question again,” Elliot said. “I’ll answer you for the final time, and any time you ask this question in the future I am not going to answer it. No. I do not feel gipped. This wasn’t some kind of ******* lucky dip. I feel… lucky. Maybe. Privileged. That you’ve actually hung around this long,” he said. None of the others had.

Skylar:
“Hey mister. No grumping at me. And why can’t I ask it again? I mean sometimes a girl needs to know these things. I’m just waiting for the day the answer’s yes. I mean I’m bound to piss you off sooner or later. It’s just what I do.”
I fold my arms across my chest and lean back in the booth. It’s kinda comfy. I could actually just curl up on the seat here and go to sleep. I start to wonder how I’m getting home? Tome and portal jump most likely. I then wonder if I’ll make it past the lobby. I could ring Ric to collect me. Or do that neat little trick of his.
“It’s a stupid rule by the way. In case I wasn’t clear about that.”
I add quickly.

Elliot:
“Because it’s insulting,” Elliot said. He wouldn’t explain why because he didn’t want to sound like some whinging ponce. “People are people. They aren’t objects that you can just throw away if you don’t like it. You shouldn’t even throw objects away when you don’t like them,” he said. There were plenty of poor people in the world. Plenty of people who had nothing. Who had no food on their plates and no roof over their heads and a lot of the time it was never any fault of theirs.
“I don’t give a **** if you piss me off. Piss me off all you like. People piss other people off all the time, too. It’s the way of life. Still doesn’t mean you just kick them to the curb because they’re in inconvenience or a thorn in your side. That’s just… well it’s ******* selfish, right?” he said.
“If you ask that question again I’ll think it’s a cry for attention and I’ll slap you over the head,” he said. And he was not lying.

Skylar:
I poke my tongue out at him.
“What’s wrong with a cry for attention. Hello…”
I gesture to myself with both hands waving them down my torso and back up.
“Musician here. If I’m not wanting attention I’m ******* dead. And not the walking talking kind either. So… You’ll just have to man up and pander to my ego. Got it?”
Well he said I’d lost my identity. I haven’t and I’m pretty sure this proves it. Man he can eb a stick in the mud at times.
“Don’t you know you’re supposed to give in to your daughter's whims and ****. You’re supposed to make me feel like a princess. All spoiled and ****. That means pandering to my ego as well as cheering me up. So no. I guess I’ll have to learn to live with the abuse cos I’m bound to ask you again if you regret saving me. Cos well… you didn’t know me from Adam. So you didn’t have to do what you did. And so I couldn’t really blame ya if you did… regret it that is.”

Elliot:
Elliot scoffed.
“No. Fathers who pander to their daughter’s egos end up with spoilt brats who think they can get away with everything and who cause them more hassle than they’re worth. I’ll cheer you up but I’m not going to feed your ego. I’ll tell you **** like it is no more and no less,” he said. And, well, he couldn’t do anything other than that anyway. He did crack a smile, though.
“That musician excuse doesn’t work on me. You forget that I’m a musician too. But I reckon if your ego and my ego got in a ring together, yours would win hand down,” he said. Though Elliot was an underground kind of musician. He never did it for any fame and never did have a band behind him. It was just him and the guitar.

Skylar:
“Pfft. I’m worth more than enough hassle and I can get away with anything. That’s not cos I’m spoiled though. That’s just part of my charm. So you can go ahead and tell me just how it is, cos I’m brilliant me.”
I grin at Elliot as I fold my arms across my chest. I’m pretty sure he knows I’m messing around. Cos I am. Kinda. I mean I am brilliant but like, not in general, I’m just talented. I know I can be a right, royal pain in the arse. Ric’s told me as much on more than one occasion and he’s not the only one to have said as such.
“And I didn’t forget about your wicked stage skills. Though you’re right. My ego versus yours. You’re going down. It’s about the only fight I’d ever win.”
I start giggling at the idea. Everyone I know, well vamp wise, could hand me my arse on a silver platter. But on stage. On stage man I’m pretty ******* unstoppable. I’m not even as klutzy. It’s weird, but it is, what it is. Performing; it’s what I was born to do.

Elliot:
Elliot did know Skylar was just kidding around, though he was wary. She did have an ego in regards to her music and her performing. She had her mates in the band, though he wondered whether they’d survive the death of Dillon. Had she had grand schemes to become famous one day? A famous vampire. He doubted that would go down well with the bounty hunters and the devil worshipping masquerade keepers. Would Skylar’s dreams go down in flames and her body with it?
Probably best not to think about or discuss that now. Best to just go along with the banter and let it slide. Elliot had sat so he was facing the bar, and while they’d been speaking, more and more punters meandered through the front doors. The bar was getting busier.
“You’re the best of the best. Of course, and one day we’ll all have to bow down to your awesome,” Elliot said with a smirk, his gaze sliding back to his childe. “Though I think my stage skills could rival yours,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

Skylar:
“You better believe it.” I laugh. It’s kinda nice to laugh. “Pfft. I’d out shine you any day papa bear.” I reach over and pat his hand. “Though imagine how awesome we’d be if we teamed up. We’d be unstoppable. The gods of the music world.” I’m not interested in being a god. I just love to play. I don’t know if Elliot remembers that though. It was Dillon that wanted fame and fortune. Me, I just love to entertain. Certainly can’t go getting all famous now. ****. Ric would pitch fit I’m sure. He doesn’t even like tatts cos they make you recognisable, can you imagine if I made it big? What a ******* disaster that would be. Nope. I’m gonna use my skills for good rather than evil. Well money. I’ve got more than enough green.
I can hear that business is picking up in the bar and I’m sure Elliot is itching to pitch in and help cos he’s a complete sucker like that. The dude has staff to do the daily grind but he just loves rolling up his sleeves and getting down and dirty with the punters.
“So… I guess I should let you get back to the grindstone eh? Can’t sit here all night cheering me up. Besides. I kinda should go check up on the guys. Make sure they haven’t died of alcohol poisoning or whatever. I’d of thought they’d come here to be honest but maybe they’re back at the flat.”

Elliot:
Hearing Skylar laugh was nice. And the coffee seemed to have done its job. She seemed far more sober now than she was when she’d walked through those doors, and Elliot felt like he’d helped her avert impending danger. Or, well, not danger. But alcohol abuse while grieving never had a good ending. He might have preferred if Skylar and her band hung around Lancaster’s but he had to have enough faith that Skylar had taken care of herself up to this point—kind of—so she should be allowed to go on her merry way.
“I should probably, yeah,” he said. The girls behind the bar were starting to look a little frazzled. Or maybe Elliot was imagining it. He was a bit of a workhorse. A bit of a workaholic. But he rather liked that about himself. The girls could probably manage just fine but he would go to help them anyway.
“And yes. Go be mother hen and take care of them,” Elliot said, narrowing his eyes. It was almost a command; if she was mother hen and in charge of taking care of other people, maybe she’d stay sober enough to do so. He would not move out of the booth until she did.

Skylar:
I didn’t need to be able to read his mind, to see the implied words behind that last comment. He was basically telling me to not to drink anymore tonight. Fat chance of that. But having me there and drunk was still better than having me not there. At least I thought it was.
I climb out from behind the table and crawl under the table to retrieve my shoes. I could walk in the now if I bothered to put them on but I’m not gonna. And seeing as how going back to the den from here would be pointless, I decide to just hoof it Dillon’s place.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya sooner. About… you know… Dillon and everything. I just didn’t know how.”
I wrap my arms around him as I speak. It’s still a ******* mission cos he’s one hell of a lanky git. I have to pretty much pull him down to my height. How the guy doesn’t get back ache from **** like this I’ll never know.

Elliot:
Elliot used to get back ache all the time. And a hell of a lot of bumps on his head. Vampirism seemed to cure aching bones given by old age, however, so that at least was one blessing that he’d be sad to see go should there ever be a reversal for this curse. Though, even if there was a reversal he realised now he’d probably think long and hard about whether he really wanted it. And the answer would probably depend entirely on Pi.
Elliot smiled and gave Skylar’s arm a light squeeze; injecting her with that boost of inspiration while she was there and close to him. “You be careful. And try not to do what you think Dillon would want you to do,” he said. In other words—no crying like a banshee. Grieve, but do so in healthy ways. Grief should never be bottled but nor should it be overdone. Grief was such a fickle beast. Too little and you’re fucked. Too much and you’re fucked. Just the right amount and you’ll get through okay, even though the ride could be rough.
“I’ll check on you soon,” he said. It was almost a threat.

Skylar:
“Hey… Virtual hugging up close and personal.”
I smile. I do that all the time to Ric. Well, when I can. I know people probably think we’re joined at the hip. I’ve been told as much, but we really aren’t. We do our own things. We’re both pretty independent people. Not to mention we don’t really share each other’s hobbies. But yeah. I catch him to inspire him if I can.
“And ‘kay, ‘kay. I’ll try not to go mental and ****. Though you know…”
I give him a mischievous grin
“Never say never.”
With that I turn and head out of the bar, my shoes swinging by the straps of my right hand. I’m not really looking forward to hearing about the funeral but I should get it over. Grin and bear it and then probably get totally **** faced. Might then go home and give Ric ****. Yeah. That sounds like a plan.