Nothing is ever easy...

[Shamus]

The madness was ever present. The more he drank, the more the madness seemed to overflow. There was but one cure to purify the ever pressing darkness within the folds of his mind and it came at such a high cost: Death. The less Shamus were to drink the more he could feel at one with himself, but the closer to death he became. There was something constantly nagging at him, telling him that he had to break free, but he could not. In one hand, he embraced the darkness, the madness that consumed his very soul. On the hand, he was afraid of what it would cause him to do. So many times he had barely caught himself before he had managed to do something he would have regretted forever.

Blood. It called for him in a seductive way. Thump. Within the garden he had secluded himself off to, he could hear it. Thump. A human was out walking near, for what reason he did not know. Thump. Shamus was able to rationalize his own thoughts, he did not wish to go hunting, but there was the sweet call. Thump. He tried to drown out the sound, pouring his efforts into thinking of other thoughts, to no avail. No matter how he tried, the call was coming louder, crashing about his skull. Thump. The need to fulfill his darkest desires was pulling him ever closer, he had to drown himself in it. To taste the sweet agony of a harmless soul as it prayed for mercy. Thump.

His eyes opened to reveal to him the garden in its full. Shamus had no idea how Elizabeth could manage to pull of such things, having such an array of colors so vibrant at this time of year. Thump. But there was no time for that. He knew what he must do. Thump. Once more must he don the gear that would be the last thing a life would see. Thump. A quirk of a grin took hold of his features, though it held only to the right side. His mind was beginning to show him visions of what could be, what would be, as he ventured off to change his attire. The night had started out beautiful and would turn even more so as he painted the moon red. Thump.

The clothes he wore now were nothing short of extravagant. Elizabeth had picked out the suit coat in all of its elegance, telling him how it would make him look dashing. Whether it did or did not held no meaning to the man, everything had a purpose, a reason for being. The clothes that Shamus wore were of the very same, each having a their own rhyme to flow with his symphony. The song was a beautiful chorus as it resonated in his mind, almost drumming out the blaring heart beat of the brave soul who still lingered by. That was how he knew it was right. The sweet melody of murder played gently in the background as he exchanged suits to ready himself for the performance that was to come. Still off in the background was the steady rumble... Thump... thump... thump...

A foot moved, one in front of the other. He had no idea where he was going, he was consumed. The taste was setting in, the smell was intoxicating him, and the sound was driving him forward. Thump. He had to have what he knew, what he craved. Despair would dine for two. Shamus was already outside and never realized he had made it this far, his eyes were intent on just making it there. Thump. He saw not what was before him, he only had eyes for one thing. Blood. It stood before him, thrashing about as if it wanted him to come. He would and he would enjoy himself, like he never had before.

Thump. It was ringing so loudly in his ears, he thought he was going to go deaf. He could hardly take it. But he had to be patient, he just had to. Blissful eternity came to those who took it slow and he would give this divine creature an eternal nightmare. Thump. As often practiced, Shamus silently pulled out a knife, ready to get a great look at his partner's eyes. A bright smile painted itself across his features as he pulled what he now saw as a human around before things went wrong. Thump... thump... thump...

Shamus could still hear the blood as a sword went through his stomach. Thump. The smile remained on his face as he looked into those eyes. Hatred. It was a nice look. Thump. For the first time he was able to see that his partner was a male, he knew it was going to be so much fun. Yet before he could make a move the other man was running away. Thump. He made his own movements to try to stop him, but stopped immediately. There was a horrible pain within his abdomen. It was at that moment he actually realized that he had been stabbed. He placed his hand over the wound as the black blood raised slowly up into the air as he just stood there looking down.

[Elizabeth]

She was lost in the music. It encompassed her and brought a surge of feelings to the woman. To Elizabeth it was unique that music in a time she had not walked the earth could have such an effect upon her, but perhaps that was why she was hypnotized by it. Each night when the woman woke, her mind would instinctively go to the computer, turn the machine on and set up her playlist. Each night it was more or less the same sort of playlist, consisting of music by Fleetwood Mac, Stevie Nicks, Heart, Journey and anything of the like. Music of this day and age paled in comparison to the music of the late 60's and 70's in her mind.

The lyrics kept her mind busy, while her husband grew more and more quiet. Perhaps quiet was not the word, but distant. Something was keeping his attentions and interests and Elizabeth was beginning to regret the idea of him being a businessman. What was originally formulated in her mind as something that would help the family out, and did, hardly helped her out at all as he seemed consumed by something and in her mind, work was to blame for this. And so, Elizabeth spent her time perfecting rituals and loosing herself in music that was actually worth something to her since the nights of Bertali, Schutz, and Strozzi.

Are you going to be late again this evening? Elizabeth asked as she collected ingredients from a lock box hidden underneath the ritual alter, hoping to get a reply from her husband, and a prompt one at that. When a minute of silence played out, Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, clearly frustrated. There was a time when he could not wait to answer her. These nights it could be hours or almost a day before the woman was given a reply back. If Elizabeth was certain he had no gone in to work already for the night, Elizabeth would have used a ritual to lock the doors to everyone, even himself. She hated the Emporium with each night that past and with each night, the woman thought of plans to do away with the business, or the building itself. Each night, the ideas grew more and more vicious and grander. Sometimes, they were even downright disturbing.

Elizabeth placed the collected items on the alter, carefully, and began to focus off the music and on her husband. His location was not what she expected. With a shake of her head, mostly due to her annoyance of him ignoring her when he wasn't at work, Elizabeth's eyes narrowed as she thought of mind blocking Shamus. That of course would do little of nothing and keep the silence between them ever growing, and so her thoughts went to a ritual. Then another. She could burden him, quite easily, but then she could challenge herself and him by doing the turning ritual. She cackled deviously at the thought of it, but then discarded it. For as much as she loved Shamus, the woman didn't want to hurt him seriously. And while he fed rather haphazardly in her opinion, if she made the male get spotted as a vampire because he had to feed due to the ritual, Elizabeth would never forgive herself. Especially when the woman knew the new system was a farce and had nothing to do with the Crow herself. Shall I get changed and join you in your outing this evening? One last attempt was given in the direction of her husband before Elizabeth would return to her routine of rituals again.

[Shamus]

A sudden euphoria came crashing over him. It had to be this. This was what Shamus had been looking for. The black blood that was slowly rising skyward was beginning to disappear as if it never existed. It was this moment, he craved, he longed for. There was no other reason. No longer did he feel a need to go on, to destroy what might be, or to consume the very essence of what there was. It made perfect sense. A small smile tugged at him as he watched the gore that was himself. He had at last found it. But there was a nagging in the back of his mind telling him that he was empty.

Something crashed into his mind, invading his own thoughts. His hands batted around the air, trying to clear it, to be at one with his own supposed serenity. It came as quick as it was gone, leaving Shamus unsettled by the entire ordeal. More to add to his current state, he now felt that he was late because of the intrusion. The feeling burrowed deeper and deeper along with the nagging feeling that he was in fact empty. The state of euphoria was slowly tumbling down like a house of cards. Hands were digging into the side of his face and it took him a while to realize that they were his own. He wanted to scream, but something inside held him back telling him that he was not a person who showed such to the outside world.

Immense pain. His body was shaking with it. It took every ounce of his willpower to be able to stand. Shamus didn't know where it was coming from, just that the agony he had felt before, yet this seemed to be worse. His vision was beginning to darken, like the blood itself was covering his eyes. He was lost to the world. All he felt in this world of darkness was the continuous agonizing pain. Time itself held no meaning. What could have been a few seconds could have been decades. All he knew at that moment was he wanted this pain to end.

Slowly his knees began to buckle. Shamus could stand no longer, he was tiring from the ordeal and his willpower was draining, it was the end. As he was about to give in, within his mind there was a speck of light. It gave off a great feeling of warmth and comfort, he was compelled towards it. As he fell to one knee, he reached out towards that ray of light, beseeching its help. It offered no embrace, no way to help him from the darkness, only a simple question.

Within the darkness, the gears in his mind began to turn furiously. He had to know the answer to the question, whatever it meant. He was so lost, so helpless, but it felt that this was his saving grace. The longer his mind thought to find answer and reason to this question, the less he felt the pain. Now it was only a dull ache in his abdomen. This gave Shamus even more to think about. What could cause such a thing, he did not know, but he intended to figure all of this out. He was up and standing on his own two feet once again.

The darkness in his mind was clearing, he was beginning to think more freely. Little things were starting to make more sense, but he still could not grasp the entire picture. At this moment, he realized that Elizabeth had contacted him, but he was not sure for what entirely. It was so infuriating that he could not think or remember what exactly had happened. But even more so was the minor pain at his stomach. A hand crept up to feel what was there and he felt a small hole. Instantly his eyes opened and he could see the world, the light was given back to his eyes. A quirk of a grin touched his features though only to the right side as he turned around and began to walk back. His mind slowly reached out to Elizabeth, "Yes... Though I find myself in a need to change clothes as well. It would seem that the guest did not like them very much..."

[Elizabeth]

The woman did not reply after his finally came. Once, the two were so in sync with the other, that their thoughts, or conversations between their minds rarely stopped. Even if it appeared they were silent in public, it was far from the truth. But now? Trying to get the man to stir seemed a feat that only gods could do and while his mind was still as open to Elizabeth as it was the day they more or less claimed the other as their eternal partner; the only one the other would ever see in the sense that they saw the other in, the only one they trusted to fill such a space in the life of the other, his mind seemed almost as blank as a fresh canvas. And yet, while things changed, there was still no one else she would rather be with and so, while he was busy with whatever, Elizabeth busied herself. It was perhaps not the best option, but it appeared to be the only one, for ritualing and hacking ate up most her evening and kept her mind from wandering too far, from missing the things that once were.

The woman moved from her altar once she had finished the ritual, attaining the location of a paladin, and down to their penthouse. "Hello, Skipper." Elizabeth greeted the dog that claimed the couch, not that Elizabeth denied him such a thing. She did not know what she should change in to, as everything with Shamus was spontaneous and his ideas somewhat fanatical at times, so Elizabeth decided to amuse herself and hopefully him. Her reply would come in the form of a summons, where Elizabeth would pull him to her. It was still something she did, many times a week when the woman demanded at the very least his presence near her. As Elizabeth began to bring together a picture of her husband in her mind and focus on the location, she started to get ready for their outing by discarding the long skirt and blouse she wore, so that by the time he arrived, she was at least half way ready. "I thought you would never arrive." Elizabeth teased her husband when he finally appeared, the blonde haired woman standing on her tip toes to give him a soft kiss. Finally, her blue hues went to him and scanned his attire. "Were you making art without me, again?" Her smile almost faltered, but remained fixed where it was as her eyes moved back up to Shamus. "Are we staying in, or do I need to get dressed?" Elizabeth laughed before she spun away to the closet, knowing they would be going out, not that she was disappointed in it, for she knew where they would eventually end up.

[Shamus]

The silence was unbearable. What he thought what once would crush him felt like nothing compared to this. A mixture of emotion surged within him as if trying to tear him at the seams. A slow boiling rage and a sense of elation for what will be. It was no righteous retribution on his own behalf, just mindless slaughter. Such feelings were something Shamus could not comprehend.

With certainty, he reached into his suit coat pocket for his pocket watch. Out of all the little quirks that Shamus had, there was one above all that would calm his nerves. An old beat up and dented pocket watch that was broke down beyond all repair. Yet for some reason in his mind, whenever he were to gaze upon it, he thought it worked. If he were to tell the time, after hearing its ticking, he would be within the general area of the time. Yet tonight, the watch did not tick for Shamus. All there was to greet him was silence.

Things started off severe and ended in a torrential downpour of despair. Shamus could feel his link to Elizabeth, but it did not give him any reprieve. The world was upside down. Black was white and white was black. He tried to move, but found himself frozen. His muscles were locked in place. This was going to be the end. Everything he had done before had finally caught up to him. As he began to search for his own inner peace, he felt that familiar tug.

She was standing before him and giving him a kiss before Shamus realized what exactly was going on. Everything before the incident with his pocket watch had seemed to have disappeared from his mind. It was not until she began to scrutinize him so that he followed her eyes and realized he had been stabbed. The emotions began to bubble to the surface, before being drowned out by the fear of his pocket watch. Time for him had stopped.

The way Elizabeth moved about, laughed, and carried on perplexed Shamus more than anything. How could she do such a thing? Even though as he watched her, his spirits did lift, he still knew how dire the situation at hand was. The best he could manage to bring himself to do was to point at the watch. He had done more than enough exciting her it seemed, though. She was off in her own world of clothes, choosing which would be best for the situation. So after working up enough courage, he whispered softly, "It's broke..."

[Elizabeth]

Shamus was an interesting man; if he wasn't then Elizabeth would not have married him, let alone bound to the man. Being bound to someone eternally was no light matter in the woman's eyes and was something the woman had given some great consideration before doing. Eternity. She had already lived hundreds of years and knew how life could change in the matter of decades, years or even moments, so promising to be with a person in some regard forever, was a big deal to the woman. But deep down, Elizabeth knew she had made the right choice; even if they squabbled from time to time, with the man in their room. But what was interesting was his lack of opinion this evening. His lack of voice.

Certainly with him, Shamus watched more times than not and rarely commented on things unless absolutely essential. However, there was one exception to the rule. Her. His voice and thoughts were rarely, if even hidden from her and so when minutes passed in silence before he spoke, her lips twisted together in thought as she turned to him. "Broke?" Elizabeth echoed after her husband, looking around the room. Everything seemed as it should be to her. When her gaze returned to him, the woman realized then that her husband was injured.

Could her husband be speaking of metaphors? Was he speaking of himself being broken? Or was there some deep, underlining thought that she had missed? He hadn't exactly been the most welcoming when she beckoned him to her side. Not even a return kiss, now that the woman thought about it. Could he be speaking of their family? Of them and their marriage? Instant panic set in with the woman before she swallowed, closed her eyes and pushed the thought away. No, he could not mean them. If he did, Elizabeth well and truly thought she would and could die.

The woman swallowed down her fears, though her voice may have cracked and given them away while she spoke, gave him a wry smile and shook her head before she stepped back to him. "Nothing is ever truly broken. Things become worn and need mending in time, but this does not make them broken. It makes them valuable and precious. It reminds us that these items, these possessions of ours, need some TLC." Her arms wrapped around him again and hugged him, perhaps a bit too tightly due to her own fears and insecurities. "It reminds us that nothing worthwhile is ever easy and these things should not be taken for granted."

[Shamus]

The pressure was immense. The moments that had passed as Elizabeth had stared at Shamus were just as they were, but it was this embrace. It was shattering to his core. Her words were cascading over him, passing through all barriers. Yet nothing managed to fit together just right. How could he give his watch just an embrace for it to work again? He was never good at this kind of thinking. Materials like this was far too complicated, this was her expertise. He was good with people. Bringing them up or down, it didn't matter. To work with people was his gift as machines was hers. A single tick echoed through his mind as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. He knew the answer.

Even though, Shamus knew what he had to do, he still could not relinquish such a thing so easily. The watch was a part of him. To turn loose of it, even if it was to Elizabeth, was a dreadful thought. So for the time being he took comfort in her embrace. A small comfort that would soon be lost as he heard the calling, a calling that had not been heard in a over a year. So subtle it was at first, he did not recognize it. A chill ran down his spine that spread through out his body. Come... As simple as that.

His mind began to open as he tried to connect what was going on. The new events taking place were slowly pushing the worry of the watch out of his mind. The voice being ever persistent in his mind Come... Shamus parted from the embrace with Elizabeth and took her into full view. She was lovely. The very image of his inspiration. He was foolish beyond belief. She would accompany him to the pits of hell if he asked. He knew she could fix the watch and if not... He pushed the thought from his mind with a small shake of his head as he handed her the pocket watch, "First we need ta change... He did not like what I had ta offer so I be one ta show him what he has chosen."

Everything was crystal clear now. He knew what was calling him, he always knew, it was always there. There was always the hope he did not have to go this far, however. This was consuming as much as the darkness. Almost as bad as a vice. Once in, there was no easy way out. Shamus moved with a purpose to the bedroom as he began to look. The black undershirt and black pants were easy to find. It would help him hide in the darkness. But the two things he needed most of all were harder to find. The red over coat to hide the blood and the cowboy hat, because it was necessary. It was screaming for him and he was calling for it with his mind.

A thought occurred to him as he continued his search. What if his search was in the wrong place? He began to laugh a little as he recalled before Elizabeth wearing the hat. She was as divine as ever as she wore such a thing. But for now, Shamus would need it. He moved to look over in her wardrobe for the hat as he looked over at her with a quirk of a grin that held only to the right side, "Tulip, have ya be seein' me red coat? I seem ta not be havin' any luck with it at all." He lost his grin as his thoughts turned straight to that one human, "And tha outfit be ta die for..."

[Elizabeth]

To change. Well, if they were going out, the woman reckoned she would have to change. Or at least get dressed. Still, she was not certain what to wear, given her husband was keeping some shreds of information to himself, or thought not to share the details of what their outing would be. Perhaps that was because anything would do.

"Red coat?" Elizabeth echoed after her husband as he started to peruse through the closet, which contained a few of his things, but mostly her things. "I suppose it is towards the back somewhere. Or, rather the sides of the closet. Since it has gone unworn for some time now." The woman admitted, staying close by Shamus. If not for the fact that she feared something may be wrong, something she might not be able to fix, then the fear he might see just how vast her collection of clothing had gotten in the course of over a year. And how many of those items still had tags on them. At some point they would be worn, but when was anyone's guess. It was a small obsession, or perhaps addiction the woman had. Vast colours, prints and materials used that had not been used when she spent her days and nights mending the clothing of others during her human and vampire years.

"Yes, I think it is to the left side of the closet." Elizabeth nodded her head, as if certain it was there. She weaved around him, slid one of the doors to the right, covering her vast amount of clothing on that side of the closet and then grabbed the first thing she saw that would be agreeable for the evening. If he was not getting overdressed, then it was unlikely she would have or need to.

Since the weather was still cool, and the idea of pretending to be human was still something Elizabeth adhered to, even if the vampire race had been abandoned by the Crow, the woman picked a dress she hadn't worn yet, plucked the tag off it and pulled it over the top of her head. Her tiny hands smoothed down the dress while he looked for the coat in question. Shoes of course were to be needed as well, but the woman waited until he found what he was looking for to dig out the right pair of boots to go with the dress. Again, just like the ample amount of clothing, shoes were also something the woman had more than she needed. Elizabeth moved from the closet after hoisting out a large red box from the floor, to their bed and put the box down besides her. She lifted off the lid and beamed with excitement. She knew what was in there of course, it was just that she had not had the chance to make good use of the boots since she purchased them in the fall of last year. The woman inched the boots up, which would give her a few inches of height, one by one, zipped them up and then stood, pleased with how she looked, even if she knew not how she actually looked.

"Then let us go show him. Together." Who the him was, was beyond Elizabeth's grasp of imagination at the moment, and what it was her husband would offer anyone who wasn't part of their family as well. "Then perhaps, when it is all said and done, we can make some art together." The male was wearing that coat for some reason, and it mattered not what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go, she would follow him. Elizabeth would ensure that everything turned out as it should have and just be with him. Something was not quite right and until the woman knew what that was, at his side she would remain and be. What was the significance of the red coat? Why did he have to wear it after all this time? What did any of this mean? Yes, at his side, the woman would remain, even if it was seen as potentially unhealthy, until she attained the answers to these questions. Going back was never a good thing in her mind. Going back for them could mean many of things. But what? And would she like the answers she found at the end of this?

Dress
Boots