S C A R S- (Roderic)

[Dominique]

Dominique wasn’t far from the iron bar that served no less than twenty five instant purposes in her mind right where she was standing. Three more came to mind as her eyes lifted from the contents of the shipping crate beneath her and back to his face. The tip of her tongue gave a slow caress to the hard white line of her teeth and the healthy pink gums where they were attached. Two small scrapes over her smaller than average fangs nearly compromised the cool wet surface of her tongue. She was able to avoid it as her she extended the sensitive muscle to brush over her top lip.

What if...?

She blinked once much like Hello Kitty would when she asked the serval who got into the trash and tore it all to hell. It was as if the exotic creature found her inquiry so ridiculous it wasn’t worth answering even if the feline could actually speak. He asked the question that left her more than curious once it was out there hanging between the two of them.

History, well her history, had proven she was one of those that was as open minded as one could get when it came to relationships or whatever it was they were summed up as currently. Labels really didn’t work for her nor did definitions or terms. Despite all that it was bound to come up at some point. Between the two of them he had the greatest chance of the past crawling up on him when he least expected it. Her personal life was about as complicated as a zip lock baggie.

The part in her hand was set down behind her on the shop table really close to the bar she had in her hand before she let go of it. HOPE and LESS were headed towards her chest to cross but at the last minute diverted their path and fixed at each side of the table in line with the outside curve of her hips. While her fingers locked down and the rest of her body relaxed, her brows lifted just enough to be noticeable. It was one of those subtle but consistent signs of curiosity that most picked up on eventually.

“Yes. Now that you mention it…” Her right foot crossed over her left. “What if she does come around again? Any ideas what you will be doing then?”

[Roderic]

I felt that it was a fair and realistic question to ask Dominique. I don’t know what happened to Skylar. At first, I had figured she was doing stuff with the band-that things might have finally taken off for the group. I mean, the cover music they did wasn’t that bad. It was actually good. They all had some form of talent. We both had our own interests and aspirations; I’m not a guy who needs someone attached at my hip. I’m not insecure and I enjoy my space so that I can do the things I want and need to do. Then, a sunrise here and there popped up without seeing hide or hair of Skylar, until finally, she wasn’t able to be summoned. Which means one of three things.

The first was that she was dead. Skylar had died somehow, by some act I knew nothing about. I went to the umbra when days passed and nights remained free and clear of my wife. I never saw any sign of her; and trust me when I say, you couldn’t miss her, even in the darkest, deepest parts in any realm. The woman just won’t shut up. The other idea was that she left the city with the band and didn’t think to take me, or was afraid to talk to me for whatever reason. Probably because I’m an asshole. I can admit that. The final conclusion was that Skylar was still in the city, but wanted **** all to do with me. Again, I’m an asshole. I leaned towards the latter given my encounter with her pathetic excuse of a sire. Whatever the reason for her disappearing act, I was over it by the time four months went by. If Skylar had died-she would have been back by now. Point blank, Skylar had made each one of those statistics I warned her I didn’t want to be come to fruition. Skylar had no fundamental respect for me, or for us.


So, I’m surprised when Dominique asks me what I plan to do should Skylar return. Didn’t I just tell her that I haven’t considered Skylar and I ‘married’ in a while? If I wasn’t so private, I’m sure we could have been divorced by now. Have something put in the papers, start the proceedings, and when she failed to show up...it was enough grounds for us to be done with. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know how that stuff works because I have never been divorced, or wanted to be divorced. Finally, I speak after some contemplation of telling Dominique what I am thinking, or penalizing her for her inattentiveness. I still might, but for now…


“I would do nothing different to what I am doing now.” I tell Dominique blankly, eyes locked on her, while the flames flickered over her features every so often. “I will hunt for my products, transform them to be sold. Come, when I am called for my faction, and when time permits; when time arrives with no tasks, that time will be spent with you. If your time permits it.” My eyes narrow at those words, before adding in. “You have ears. I know they work. Nothing changes because she decides to grace Harper Rock with her presence once again.” My eyes move around the items illuminated by the fire, searching for something that could widen those canals in her ears. “Any other, unnecessary questions?” I ask, while thinking on the words I said before the question. I know what she did, but I caught on to it before it was too late.

[Dominique]

“I think what I said up until this point kind of confirms where I choose to spend my free time outside all of your mentioned responsibilities. Permission granted.”

She had **** to do, businesses to run and things she was responsible for as well. The comment about her ears working was ignored. It wasn’t the time she felt compelled to argue over the sarcasm he tossed in like required seasoning to the topic like it was called for. Besides that her ears worked just fine. It was settled then. At least it was for her. Any other uneccesary questions such as asking him about sharing a bond was dismissed from her current interest level. Or was it?

“I am good.”

Her lips formed a tight circle, turned inward then relaxed as they released. She was better than good. None of it really was close to being what it would take to ruin her night. They had a general understanding in place. What more was there to want? Why complicate it? Several answers came to mind in support of the reasons she gave when first asking him and bringing it up. But she would be damned if she was going to try selling the idea to him. **** that. Any disappointment came and went. What was it they said about New York minutes?

“I am sure the digging into the inside of an engine isn’t high on your list of things to do or you would have had your hands in one before now.” Her reach had the manual for the engine in the works in her hands. She looked at him and still saw in him what she did before she started the previous conversation. “Just letting you know what is about to be put together. Something you likely don’t see routinely.” There had to be millions of things he didn't see routinely and did just fine without doing so. The thought alone came through with the sound of his voice oddly enough.

HOPE dropped the manual because she didn’t need it for a reference. It served its purpose as being a visual aid for Ric as to what the final product was going to look like in about two hours after a rather greasy intense parts pulling and replacement session. She glanced to the shop clock as if whatever placement of the hands were to be discovered in would really matter.

“If you want to get dirty and possibly bored you are more than welcome to jump in.” She shrugged. “Unless you have something you rather kill and stuff in which case I would completely understand.” She nodded.

[Roderic]

By now, Dominique's given up on talking about getting bound. She probably thinks I'm an asshole-which she'd be right. It's not that I don't enjoy our time and experiences together. Quite the opposite. What she's asking for is a pretty big ******* deal. A lifetime commitment. No, many lifetimes of a commitment. With me. And with her. But mostly, she has to think about how long this thing could last, with me. I've never claimed myself to be some sort of prize in anything-friendship, partnership, companionship. In fact, I would tell everyone the opposite. I suck at all those things, because I don't give a **** about those things. I have 'friends,' but I don't view them as friends. Today, people deem friendships so frivolously. If you have the same cat, shoes, or ring tone, you must be friends. It's insane. I don't know what I consider people like Doc, for instance, but it's something more than 'friends.' Or maybe, most the world has the wrong idea about friends, not me.

"I don't mind getting my hands dirty." I tell her with a shrug, which she knows. Yes. Dominique damn well knows that I actually enjoy getting my hands dirty. Would I be bored with watching her put an engine together? Maybe. I don't know. It's not my thing, but I doubt I would be bored with watching her get her hands dirty. I also enjoy when they are dirty. Though, our ideas of dirty are two different things, I'm sure. She baits me with the temptation of killing something, almost as if dismissing me from her presence and the conversation. I almost turn to leave, because I would rather kill something, or someone, but I stay remained where I am. I'm not done with this conversation, and I don't give a **** if she has things to do.

"No. I can stay." I tell her, which might surprise Dominique. She knows me enough to know that I would rather go hunt down something in the woods-her woods, but, there's something else that needs to be addressed before this conversation does come to a complete end, no matter what direction it goes in. "Binding provides a sense of security." I tell her, though I'm sure she knows this. Hell, everyone does. You're 'stuck' with the person past for better or for worse. I imagine the worst anyone, any human, can think of is not really the worst when it comes to our species. "Security, can be comforting to many." I continue as I move and grab the crowbar she let go of not that long ago.

Very slowly, he swung it in his hand, with no rhyme or pattern. It was a slow, lazy swing, no real threat to it, while he approached her. "But...what if that security isn't comforting?" I tell her, my eyes growing darker as the swinging motion gets a little faster. "I imagine, being bound to someone like me is much like this..." I grab one of her hands in mine and press it palm down on a corner of the box. My hand covers her, before I hoist the crowbar up high and jam it through both our hands, a snarl erupting from my throat. It hurt a hell of a lot more than I thought it would. "Does that thought comfort you, Dom?" I ask her, not releasing either of our hands from the box, or the crowbar.

[Dominique]

Dominique was prepared to let her whole proposal just sort of drop like the crowbar eventually could have that was in his hand. Not that she changed her mind because she had not. She was still all for it and for her given reasons but beating a dead horse just wasn’t ever her style. With them it was never quite so easy to predict though. She had her say but it appeared the matter was far from settled as far as he was concerned.

Her eyes took to focusing on his own until the visual of falling iron pulled her focus downward. The tool coming over the cool roof of flesh that his hand provided for her own reminded her that she missed something she should have said or perhaps did. It took his demonstration of what he felt it would be like to be eternally bound to him to bring it front and center. A rising cloud of their blood floated in a slowly blending pattern then dispersed as more of the droplets rose to the occasion. The pain set in and she felt the lines of her teeth meet briefly and the pressure her jaws delivered in the contact.

“Your flesh over mine, covering it? You willing to be bare and open to taking what is coming first, including the threat of harm and pain before I am subjected to it?” HOPE stayed where it was skewered beneath Ric’s hand. The rising ache and the cold iron that held both in place was impossible to dismiss.

In a perfect world it would be a disturbing sight to behold. But theirs wasn’t perfect. Not even close. What she had as she stood there connected to him by open flesh was tangible proof he knew exactly what she was talking about. As much as it hurt it was sort of a relief that no matter what ever came from her suggestion he was getting her reasoning. Either that or Ric was needing to hang up offering physical examples to his given points and reasoning.

“Otherwise my hand would be alone in it's bleeding. You could have just held my wrist and left your blood out of it.” The heat of the pain warmed her where her flesh was cold and compromised. “Even a sucker for pain would have sat that demonstration out.” She felt the hardness of her own truth fix on his eyes. “I am not looking for comfort. I don’t need it. I did once and I saw what that costs, what it does. I worked through it. I want you thorns and all. Want is key. Need is weakness and will never be the issue or deciding factor. We can exist without each other. It is what we are designed to do in this existence we share. Knowing you will take what comes and experience it with me says you get what I was offering. It is your choice if you accept it or not.”

[Roderic]

I scoff at what Dom had to say. She was making it out to be more than it really was. Seemed like she was romanticizing the idea I was trying to convey. I mean, I get how it looks, but it wasn't like that. I don't think it was, but the more she talks, the more I start to disbelieve myself and what I was trying to say. It sort of does look like that. ****.

I sigh and yank the crowbar out of the surface beneath her palm. "It was an indication that I will determine how much pain you are put through.It was lessened because I took the brunt end of it. It will heal. Nothing more." I nod my head, then toss the crowbar to the ground, it clangs loudly and does a couple of softer bounces. "And pain is what I will bring." I don't mean that in some sort of fucked up romantic notion, the whole 'loving me will hurt your heart', or some crap like that. I mean physical pain and that will never change, just because we are tied to the other. I won't stop trying to bring out the worst in her, and I can't remove that nagging urge to do that. Or I can't not be my worst, either. I tried. I did. Once. I tried to look the other way. Ignore some things. It was unnatural. Never again. I can only be who I am.

It seems Dominique understands what I am saying. That there is no comfort in shacking herself to me. We are making progress in a positive direction. She is aware and knows what I can offer, and what I can't. I nod, and stuff my hand; the injured one, in my coat pocket. What she says is true. By nature, I am a loner. Even in my faction, and vampire family, I seldom meet anyone face to face. I rarely go to events. I am comfortable in my own presence and the silence it brings with being alone. And, deep down, I know Dominique could live without me, and I without her. We both have lived without the other. But, if I were to anchor myself to someone, it would be...her. As much as I bring out the cunning and diabolical ideas, she brings them out of me as well. We've already experienced, together, what the other is potentially capable of. One does not suffer without the other. One does not indulge in pleasure, without the other. I had not had these thoughts before tonight. "I accept to experience the worst in life, with you." Why not? It was so ******* thrilling some nights.

[Dominique]

Dominique decided then and there two things were likely to come from this. Both of which Ric confirmed with his own words.The worst was yet to come. For any romantic at heart that would be a crushing blow and a solid reason to head for the hills and never look back. Not for the shadow of many colors retracting her hand. The general visual inspection of the wound was a brief amount of time. No more than it took for her to brace behind her what she labeled ‘HOPE’ several years ago. It was not her mantra anymore. Reality was. The hard cold fact that between them was a truth that she could appreciate as much as he could. It wasn’t about dreams, vows to be happy ever after or pretending to have the ability to be something neither of them could be. Love had nothing to do with it.That was what they could both invest in.

The promise of pain was already in play in their interactions and she was ready to hold him to it for the time projected. Dark and deep within her there was a core that found it centering, liberating and replaced the air she once breathed. Anything else she was good for. The unexpected, the predictable and the unthinkable she welcomed. It was not everyone’s cup of tea but it was hers and it was his. What else really mattered? It had nothing to do with anyone else.

“Sounds like we have an agreement.” She nodded and released the anchoring hold on the surface behind her. A subtle brush of her fingers at the smooth space of cool healthy appearing skin beneath her jaw came and went. “Do you want to shake on it or…” Her dark wide eyes pinned him with invitation. “Just do it?”

Was there a certain protocol at signing up for eternity? Probably in an ideal setting. She had been to a few bonding ceremonies. Some were so close to weddings that it was hard to believe the ones at the altar were not human anymore. Flowers, gifts, monogramed cards for table settings at the receptions. Even the vows spoken followed the same pattern of better or worse, to love and nurture. There was hardly any designs on her part to go through that whatsoever. She wasn’t putting on a dress and she wasn’t going to promise him the world she really had no ability to provide. She could only deliver on the value of her word and the universe of pain that came with it when she did. She felt her lips tighten briefly while the thought finished. Ric certainly would be a sight in a tux but he would rather be naked then wrapped up sharp and tight for presentation to a crowd. One of the many things they had in common...they absolutely hated weddings. This was going to be anything but that.

“I am good for any of the above. No frills either. We know what this about and what it isn’t.”

[Roderic]

An agreement. Really, an understanding, in Ric's mind. She had laid out her hand and he had laid out his and either they were going to agree, or disagree. It was the former. Was that relief he felt? Or concern? Relief that they were in an agreement and progressing? Or concern over the fact that they were in agreement and progressing? I have my reservations, even though Dominique says and feels differently in the moment. I believe she genuinely believes what she's saying and what she's signing up for in the moment, but not many people could put up with, or deal with, my curious mind. Time will tell.

The smirk remains when Dom suggests shaking on it. The smirk fades when she suggests just 'doing in.' We're in one of those situations that I can't tell what she means by that. "We'll need some things. I'll have to ask around for some of those things. Maybe all of them." I know for a fact I won't have everything we need to just go and 'do it.' If that's the 'it' she's talking about. "We can't just shake on it." I tell her as my eyes glance down at the hole in her hand, knowing all too well what needs to be done. I've been to aeryn, and I've done rituals myself.

I turn away and pull out my phone from my back pocket and start scrolling through my contacts. I send a message to Sister B and to Jules, asking for different things, certain they had those things. Once the messages are sent out, I turn back to Dom, thinking about her final words. What this is about. What this isn't. It's a rudimentary promise; concept, at its core.

My phone goes off and I get a reply from Sister B. She has everything that I asked about. She has what I need. Jules only has a couple things, but I think I have the other items. "I need to go back to my apartment. To get some things." I inform Dom as I text the location of the abandoned mansion to Jules and to Sister B, telling both of them to meet me there in about twenty minutes. I glance back over at her, wisps of shadows escaping from her hand. "Here." I tell her as I pull my shirt over my head and tug it apart at the neckline. I move over to where she's standing, tugging at the side seam of the shirt and discard the rest of the shirt on the floor. "Can't be putting the ring of eternity on you if I can't see your hand." I tell her as I wrap the shirt around the middle of her palm and secure it at the back of her hand. "I'll see you at the abandon mansion. I trust you'll be there." My eyes bore into Dom's face, assessing if I think she'll end up showing in the end, before I'm gone and headed to the apartment to get the rest of the things we'll need from the lock box.

[Dominique]

Trust you will be there.

It went to her core and hit a switch that reminded her he knew what it meant if anyone did. If she had a breath to lose she would have on the sound of his voice delivering the words. From this moment on she would be there, anywhere. Anytime and in any shape, her best or her goddamned worst she would deliver what it took to keep him safe. He would not have to question it. He wouldn't have to ask. It would be like the night sky moving in cooling the earth beneath them without invitation and without fail.

As soon as his eyes fixed on hers the pressure of the wrap on her hand sank in beneath the layers of damaged flesh. The scent of her shadows blood diluted beneath the aroma of his body that clung to her hand and the fabric he had been wearing. Once he was gone from her view the fingers closed tight to palm the tourniquet of cotton that formed tightly around hand. HOPE and LESS joined despite the barrier and the cool linking of her fingers confirmed that nothing was leaving that would be needed.

Each step she took brought her farther up into Vita Bella. The placement of her feet felt far more purposeful than they had before. A blur of black and every color possible to load into an ink gun moved up the stairs in the blink of her wide sweet brown eyes. In a slide of her feet she came to a stop on the blonde hard wood beneath. The pull of the shirt off her back was just as quick as her wiggle out of what had held onto her hips. A wardrobe door opened wide with the help of a well wrapped hand. Her opposite hand snapped hanger after hanger from the left to the right scanning each garment that floated by as she did. Nothing stood out. It was all so her, consistent and fit her like it was made for her. Denim, cotton, leather. Everything he had seen her in more than once or twice.

“Ugh.” Escaped her lips as she allowed the weight of her body to close the door as she leaned back and used if for support. Her eyes fell to the base of the dresser and the bottom right drawer.“**** it. He knows what he is getting into.” She spoke to the small fur covered faces that seemed to **** to the right as if they questioned the validity of her statement. She weaved around the audience of two bull terriers dressed in their typical costumes and a serval cat who still answered to Hello Kitty. A quick tug of the drawer handle revealed what would soon be on her body. “Keeping it real guys. Sorry.”

Ten minutes later had her walking into the abandoned mansion which she found herself inside of only a handful of times before. The grey stone was firmly beneath her feet as the sound of her light steps followed her. Through the empty space and around a wall or two she navigated. In her pocket was the cash that she was expected to have because nothing was free. Not even when some chick recites a ritual that in essence seals your remaining time to another. The bulk of the money was making the fit of of the material at her hips tighter than was comfortable. Her unwrapped hand wedged down and adjusted it so that some of the constriction it created was eased.

A cool breeze moved over the back of her neck and with its passing her cell phone was in her hand. The fast movement of her inked digits sent out the texts that would bring the ones she couldn’t imagine not being there to witness the most important promise she would ever make. Once the cell went back into her pocket the sound of paper and skin hissed for her attention. A hand extended and bridged the space between her and the curiously clad body before her. Without a word she eyed the information handed to her.

[Roderic]

I hate asking people for help. Not because it's a pride thing, but because if you ask someone for something, they usually want to know what you want it for. People; vampires and humans alike are nosy fuckers. I had checked the auctions for the ingredients, hoping to find the things Dom and I would need. I did this every so often; look for things I might need for rituals, and wouldn't you know it? Not a single ******* thing that we needed was up for selling. I swear I've seen oils on the list before, and the other things. Not in a surplus style, but a couple of each. If I were a betting man, I'd say the odds were against us.

But I'm not and I hate 'odds.' It's unnatural. Everything had pairs. Socks, shoes, shirts had two arms, pants had two legs, we had two eyes, ears, nostrils-ten toes and fingers-another point to prove that everything needed to be nice and even. While we only had one mouth, we did have two lips-but most of us could live better without that one mouth. I wouldn't be sad to see most the city mouthless. Another thought for another time. I had somewhere to be at a certain time. While I wait to see if Jules and Sister B have the things I need, I go to my closet and pull out a clean, black v-neck t-shirt. It was the least I could do, right? I look down at my pants and notice a couple stains of dirt water around my ankles. I shrug. I don't have time to change and quite frankly, **** it. I won't wear a suit, and Dom knows me. If she doesn't, she'll be surprised when I show up looking more or less the same.

And I get replies back and suddenly it's like twenty ******* questions. Or at least it feels that way. How many of this? How many of that? When is it needed by? I really wanted this to be a me and Dom thing, but I know that it probably won't be able to be that now. I reply with what I think I'll need, that I need them now, I'd pay whatever price and to bring whatever they had to the abandon mansion. No one needs to be a rocket scientist to put two and two together, but I don't say anything else other than what is needed, when and where. If they figure it out, good for them.

I stuff the phone in my pocket and head out the front door of my apartment. I turn the key twice, check the handle twice to make sure it's locked and then head down to the elevator from my mediocre sized apartment. I walk briskly to the entrance of the flats, then head to the river and cross it without any hesitation in my steps. I don't have anything on my mind other than I hope Jules or Sister B comes with the things I need and that things go off without a hitch. I stop at the magic stop and get a clover-four leafed. I feel good about this suddenly. I shake my head. What a stupid ******* thought. I grab the damn clover off the counter and head north, but realize I'll be late at this rate-so I duck around a corner of a building and then teleport outside the Mansion. I shove the door open with my shoulder, careful as to not crush the four leafed green thing and head to where I know Aeryn is. As I walk over her way, I call out a 'hello.' It lets people know I'm there and coming.