The Human Condition [Castalia]

[Cedric Costello]

Cedric gave the slightest smile. Haunted man? That was it, basically. He was not a man who believed in ghosts. It was a ghost that he had made up, because it perfectly suited the state of his life, and the state of his mind.

There was a restlessness that had taken hold of his limbs; he had started to release the negativity stuck in his soul and he wanted to keep going. He wanted to pace the floor. He wanted to… what? He wasn’t angry. If he was angry, it was only at himself. No, he was sad. He was grieving, and he hadn’t allowed himself relief. But, as Castalia had said, he had a pretty woman with him, offering him drinks and companionship - it wouldn’t do to break down in front of her.

So he sighed, and laughed, his head vaguely cocking to the side, his bright haunted eyes steady upon her face.

“Are you… flirting with me?” he asked, obviously finding it amusing. He had glanced down to where her hand had squeezed his shoulder, his eyes slowly returning to her features. Her fingers felt like marble - marble that had been sitting in the ice. But it was Winter. Some people ran cold. Instead of breaking down, he instead focused on the silver linings that Castalia offered to him. The things that were right in front of him. Not the past, or the future - but the here and now.

“So it’s your advice to let go of the past and to move forward. Are you a new thing that I’ve found?” he asked. The empty glass sat in front of him, and he did his best not to order another drink. He was starting to feel it, now - that buzz in his brain, the numbness to his skin. It was the tipping point - if he had another drink, he’d keep going. There’d be no stopping him, until he was sprawled, passed out somewhere.

[Castalia]

Frank set a glass of water in front of the two, a sign that he’d rather not have either of them getting a serious hangover - it was a thoughtful gesture, one that indicated he actually cared for his customers. It was something that kept Castalia returning to the bar over time as she hadn’t found it elsewhere yet. She tilted her head left, and then right as if she were trying to clear a kink from the side of her neck before she crossed her leg over the other while she looked back at the man.

Her contacts were starting to bother her, feeling a bit dry, but rather than fuss with the, the woman blinked a few times as if to clear dirt from her eye. Had she said the right words? She didn’t think things through sometimes. Impulsive, jealous. Her mother had always sighed at the way it was paired with a short fuse, but sometimes it helped. When he laughed, Castalia felt as if she had been a bit helpful. She envied his humanity, the way he could mourn without knowing about what was going on around them, without being able to hear every little detail. She envied that pulse, which she could hear beating…

The question confused her. Was she flirting? Would Keagan care? “Yes.” The honest answer slipped past her lips before she could actually really consider her relationship with her friend. “Never said we were a thing.” There was a little voice that was extinguished as she smirked and raised her hands lightly in surrender. “You caught me, even if I’d be saying the words one way or another.”

She didn’t miss the way that Rhys rolled his eyes from his spot, reminding her that he could read lips well enough. Castalia pushed one of the waters closer to Cedric before she collected her own, but not taking a drink. She never did like the taste of plain water and now, she had liked it even less with the way the taste seemed to be stronger. Bottled flavored water had always been more acceptable.

Castalia nodded to the advice, and then lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “I can be.” There was a playful curl of her lips, her eyes flashing with mischievous intent as she lifted her fingertips to indicate two more drinks to Frank. Under his breath, she heard the older man laugh and say something along the line of the woman being a vixen, to which she resisted the urge to snicker. “But only if you’d like me to be.”

[Cedric Costello]

At first, Cedric rejected the notion of water. He knew that his head would hate him for it the next day, but who was this barman to try to force sobriety upon him? Cedric had reached the point of no return; the tipping point, where just enough alcohol urged him only to drink more. Common sense had been doused, smothered, and buried. Besides which, there was something about this woman that had him hooked. Most women might balk at being accused of flirting. Not this one, though.

There was nothing wrong with flirting. Flirting was harmless, and didn’t always lead to anything more. What was wrong with a little flirting, here in this bar, when the world outside seemed so empty and far away?

Cedric’s fingers only curled around the glass of water as Castalia ordered two more drinks. So long as the alcohol kept coming… at this point, it didn’t matter. His mouth did as it wanted to, his tongue forming words that he may or may not regret later. His eyes barely left Castalia’s face as he tried to figure her out - she was being vague. The game had started. To what end?

He took two large mouthfuls of water before he answered, taking his time.

“Will this be a series of pointed questions on my behalf and vague answers on yours?” he asked slowly, licking his lips. He was already hunkering for the taste of alcohol, the burn as it slid down his throat.

“Or can we skip to the end, where you tell me exactly what kind of new thing I would like you to be?” he asked. He’d answered both statements within the one. Yes, he had decided in his tipsy state of mind. He would like her to be a new thing. But that, he supposed, would depend entirely upon her intentions. How bad could it be, though? She hardly looked like a strange fetishist. He wondered if he would have to tell her that he would not make a very good long-term partner - if that was what she had in mind.

[Castalia]

She wondered what he would do if she told him point blank that she intended to make him her meal for the evening. There were different ways for people to interpret the words, of course, which she supposed was a moment of to each their own that Castalia didn’t mind. “Perhaps.” The answer slipped past her lips and she took a small drink of the water before she smirked.

“People can move forward with or without help, but only if they allow themselves to. I… am still trying to continue forward, but I look back enough that I find myself hesitating.” She explained and then ran her tongue over her teeth as she tried to collect her thoughts, “I can’t go back to what I had.” It was hard for her to say, thinking about the fact that her children would likely grow up never knowing what happened to her. Legends were one thing, she knew her father was big in mythology and legends, but telling them that monsters were real and mommy was one of them wasn’t something that could be done.

They had enough going on in their young lives.

Castalia looked at Cedric as he asked his question and she wondered what she could say. He was handsome, but she didn’t want to lead him on too much. It wouldn’t be fair to the man in the end. Then again, was any of it fair? Where he was getting drunk, Castalia could already feel the alcohol in her system burning off. She was still alert, functional. Her mismatched eyes, concealed by contacts, flashed in amusement.

She leaned forward, wetting her lips as she made a split minute decision to set her hand upon his knee. “Well, I could tell you, but it’d be easier to show you.” The woman inclined her head and leaned back as Frank slid the drinks down to them. “Especially this late at night.” She smiled at him, playful and sexy while she lifted her drink.

[Cedric Costello]

Cedric lost himself in thought as he considered Castalia’s words. The move was still too new, too fresh, for Cedric to consider ‘going back’ as an option. Castalia said that she couldn’t, and of course Cedric wanted to know why. What could have happened that was so drastic that she couldn’t go back? That she couldn’t, in some way, make amends? It had Cedric wondering if he could, one day, make amends. Could he ever go back? Would he? Or would it be better for him to try to forget, to start fresh.

Clean slate.

It was still far too soon to decide. Right now, he had no hope of reparation. There was no optimism. He had lost, and he would not regain. There was no conceivable way. On the surface he might appear harmless; a foreign man, clean in his obscure handsomeness, traditional in his morals and values. Like Dorian Gray, however, there could be depravities beneath the surface. Acts that one might never expect. There was safety, in looking unremarkable.

The touch of Castalia’s hand, coupled with that smile she gave to him - there was only one thing that Cedric could think that she was suggesting. There was a glimmer of a smile at the corner of his lips; a subtle narrowing of the eyes that soon dispersed as he considered his options. What could the harm be? They were just two people having a near profound conversation, and their night could end in a little fun. There was no harm in a little light-hearted fun.

After draining the last drink and ignoring the water, Cedric nodded. Consent.

“Show me.”

[Castalia]

“I can’t go back.” The words still stayed with her after she had fallen quiet. She thought about her children and their laughter which faded to the last thing she'd heard of them - her daughter asking her ex where mommy was, her son looking for her. Rhys hadn’t held back any information, knowing she would have been hurt more if he had. She thought about the days before she and Nolan had split, when she would get up before dawn and make their lunches for school and work.

She missed the sun on her face, the warmth of it on her skin. The day before she had turned, Castalia had been working a long shift and had slept the day away. It was silly, the things she took for granted. She always thought she would have had one last day…

Pushing the thoughts away, she watched Cedric and kept the smile on her lips. Her prey. It was the way it would be, wasn’t it? At least he didn’t seem foolish and hadn’t been the one to initiate it. Those types were always irritating.

At his consent, she nodded and slid off her stool before heading to where Frank stood, bringing her wallet with her. It didn’t take long for her to pay, adding a few rounds for Rhys to the bill and then closing the tab for the night. She'd be back in a few days, she knew it. She always was. “Best hunting ground, really.” Castalia told herself before she returned to Cedric and put on her cardigan, followed by the heavier jacket. As she pulled her hair out from underneath the fabric, she nodded towards the door.

“Follow me, then.”

To play with her food or not. She wondered as she zipped up her jacket and stuffed her hands into her pocket. From the corner of her eye, she could see her reflection in a mirror above the bar and stepped back, pretending to give him more room to move rather than making sure her corpse face wasn’t visible. Laughter in the background told her that Rhys had seen it and she had half the mind to see if there were any swarms of flies nearby - but it’d ruin the idea of purchasing the bar any time in the future.

[Cedric Costello]

If Cedric were back home, if he were back in Brussels he would be the one buying the drinks. But he had fallen far, and they had consumed a lot. Although he could have afforded it, it might have meant going hungry, a little later on. He needed to find work, and the quicker the better. If he came back here in the future, he could pay Castalia back. Or, before they parted for the evening, he could make sure that he had her contact details. She had promised him something new, hadn’t she? Or, maybe she hadn’t promised, entirely. But…

It didn’t matter, he told himself. Women, in this day and age, didn’t need gentlemen. They didn’t like men to pay their way. They liked their independence. They liked to sometimes have the upper hand. In this instance, Cedric didn’t have a choice.

When Castalia’s friend laughed, Cedric paid him no mind. There was a low hum of conversation and Cedric assumed the guy was just sharing (or hearing) and amusing story. It didn’t cross the pianist’s mind that anything unnatural had occurred; he had not witnessed and had not heard any rumours to have him looking for anything untoward. As far as he was concerned, a striking woman was leading him outside. Where to? Her home, perhaps? A hotel? It didn’t matter. It was something different. Something to warm the cold night.

And so he followed, without question. What harm, really, could she possibly do?

[Castalia]

There was a subtle feeling of annoyance that was brought on by her contact lense as she reached up to rub at her eye with one of her wrists briefly. She used her phone to check that the colors beneath weren’t evident and then Castalia was ready to go. Her mind questioned on what she should do, take him to her place, or just somewhere quieter? Rhys’ old place was nearby. She had a key, didn’t she? The woman didn’t bother digging around her pockets as she walked.

At the moment, she was enjoying herself. She was in control and after a second, she reached out to curl her slender fingers around the man’s wrist. Her green eyes glittered, amusement dancing across her features. Her apartment was closer. It was decided as she pulled him in the direction and remained quiet for the short walk, ignoring the way the rain dampened her clothes - she’d always liked the rain back in the south.

He was alone. He didn’t have anyone.

It interested her to how things seemed to reflect, but Castalia pushed it aside as she listened to his heartbeat. Knowing how it pushed alcohol laced blood through his system; she wondered how his blood would taste as she pulled the door open to the apartment building and released his wrist. “This way.”

She smiled, minding her fangs.

She could almost taste him.

[Cedric Costello]

Cedric didn’t mind the silence; it should have been ominous, but it wasn’t. He spent the time admiring the woman he was with. The further they walked, the more he imagined that she was taking him home; that she had a confidence that could not be matched. She would reveal to him a confident, modern, independent woman’s sexuality; that was what he had to look forward to.

When they reached the apartment building, he was almost one hundred percent certain that he was right. He was a stranger that she had picked up. Someone she deemed worthy enough to bring home with her. He wondered whether it was the piano playing that had sealed the deal, or whether he came across as broken or vulnerable. Women liked it when men were vulnerable, didn’t they? Maybe she was only bringing him home out of pity.

He nodded as she indicated the way. He stepped past her, into the confines of the building, his eyes sweeping the interior curiously. His head was still buzzing, his vision somewhat blurred; he hoped, in the very least, that she would not lead him toward stairs. He might struggle with stairs. He could pretend to be mostly sober, otherwise.

“Is this where you live?” he asked. It was a pertinent question. He could be wrong. She could be showing him something else, at someone else’s apartment. A party, maybe. Some… strange and wonderful cult, perhaps. He might be entirely surprised.

[Castalia]

“This is the lobby to my apartment building, yes.” She answered, lifting her gaze towards the elevator and then back to Cedric as the door clicked shut behind her. Lightly pressing her hand against his back, Castalia leaned up to brush her lips against his ear. “Unless you’d like to go somewhere else.” She smirked and then dropped back down to the balls of her feet as she moved to press the button to go up.

It dawned on her that the mirror in her bathroom was still shattered, late, but she didn’t care. She could say it was done in the quake that had happened months ago, or that Rhys had done it accidentally. Maybe he wouldn’t care. She didn’t think there was a chance he’d be heading in that direction, either, as she considered it and shrugged out of her jacket, resting it over her shoulder after.

“My family lives on the other side of the city. I don’t go there often.” It made her briefly wonder which family she was referencing to, as well. She only really ever spoke to Kika, occasionally delivering things to Delaney. Castalia supposed that she was still irritated, really, about the way some things had gone down. She put her jacket over her shoulder, listening to the elevator lowering itself.

“Careful.” She stated, pressing her back against the door so that it wouldn’t begin to slide shut.