Falling Star (Myk)

[Dawn Chekov]

She knew it was sad... She knew it was pathetic. The way she glanced at her phone, willing it to ring, willing it to be the one person that she wanted to talk to. There were people that 'needed' to talk to her, but only one right now that she needed to hear from, she hadn't heard from him in a long while now and she was starting to get worried. Dylan had tried to call her, so had the rest of her band. Her manage too had been one that she had sent straight to her voice-mail that simply said "Hey this is Dawn, You know what to do moonbaby!"

The phone rang again, Dylan's picture showed up on the display, his smiling face, his bright, chipper eyes. Her band mates, her brothers, were always there for her. Today though, she didn't want to hear it, not from him, not from any of them. Dawn closed her eyes, bowed her head, and once again hit the 'decline' button before she tossed her phone onto the couch beside her and let her face, blood-teared stained, fall into her shaking pale hands. Her long white hair fell over her shoulders, over her face, becoming a curtain that hid the horror of her quickly escalating depression.

Too long, it had been too long... she didn't just miss him, she worried about him, about his safety. Yet Dawn hadn't heard from Alex in at least a few weeks. Yeah, she had been busy, and a lot of the time, but if he had called her she would have dropped everything. Even a song in a middle of a show if her manager hadn't had a knack for hiding the damn thing before she went on stage. She shook her head a little and sat back, pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs as her bright blue eyes stared off at the black TV screen that was also her computer. She hadn't even touched that in the last few days.

She needed something... The more she cried she knew what, but at the same time, she didn't want it. The pain, mild as it was right now, helped center her. Dawn picked up her phone and looked at it for a moment, seeing her reflection in the dark glace. Slowly, she wiped her eyes and dials a number. She just hoped he would answer...

[Myk]

This city seemed rather stagnant lately, its residents gathering dust, and he was no different. His bone-white hair seemed antique in the sallow light, his porcelain foundation cracking around his cheekbones, his Victorian-style outfit not helping matters either. Myk sighed, slumping against the chair inside the Internet Café, mimicking a tired marionette that had lost its strings. Closing his eyes completed the façade because his body stilled to a death-like state; his mind set to wander the plains of virtual reality. He had computers at his disposal – he was in a net café after all – but using them required a lot more effort than accessing the world with this technokinesis. Besides, it was a lot more private wasn’t it.

Privacy was important right now. He had his head back in the game and was ready to do some research on his main goal: destroying the Shadow Realm. Why? Well, he had run out of everything else to do and with the new ties that he had made, he was ever more determined to secure the inevitability of death. It was his gift to them, to save them from the crushing agony of immortal life – whether they wanted it or not. Myk was convinced that, sometimes, people needed decisions being made for them… for their betterment. Having Simone in his life now steeled that need to make sure she wouldn’t suffer. He never could understand why people were so afraid of death and why that fear caused them to make irrational, degrading decisions. So he would fix that. He would remove the Rift which gave Vampires like him the ability to return… he just didn’t know how yet.

Internet searches were running vaguely fruitfully, but as he came to a section on various human beliefs of the afterlife, he was distracted by a shrill ringing in his ears. Myk opened his eyes, pewter searching faces for the source, but he couldn’t find one. He heard nothing but that pesky ringing, a sharp and continuous C. He saw their mouths gaping and closing, articulating words to others, ignoring him entirely. At that point, Myk figured that the source of ringing sound must belong with him and he closed his eyes once more to focus. It quickly turned out that concentration was key to solving the mystery of the strange sound because, in the blackness, he saw a familiar face and above the wisps of platinum hair, he saw a green phone icon. Dawn was calling him, he made the effort to answer.

“Hello?” he said within the realms of his own mind, but the words, which were converted to electrical signals, carried upward on radio waves as per usual and were beamed directly into her phone.

[Dawn Chekov]

Ir rang once, and Dawn wondered if she should hang up before he answered, because well, this was no doubt going to be the oddest request that he heard. At least, that she knew of. It rang a second time and now she was starting to worry. People rarely were able to be quick enough to answer on the first ring, but they normally got it on the second one. Now she was starting to think that perhaps he was busy, that she should hang up, hang up and leave him alone. This wasn't his problem and she shouldn't make it his problem by staying on the phone longer. And then the third ring began and before she could hit the 'end' button it stopped.

“Hello?”

Dawn let out a breath, it was soft and shaky, clearly she was trying to make sure that her voice sounded smoother than she knew it would be before she responded in her thick Russian accent. "Hey, Myk... it's Dawn, do you remember me?" It was was a silly question, she was pretty easy to remember anyways, but add to the fact that he was a vampire, and as vampires they normally had perfect recall, that they would remember names, faces, scents, sounds. Still, she couldn't stop herself from asking it because it was out of her mouth before she had a chance to filter it.

"This is probably out of the blue..." she started, of course it was out of the blue, it was almost as bad as drunk dialing someone, only instead of drunk, she was down, upset, scared, all kinds of things and she didn't know who else she could call. Madison would probably have laughed at her and then hung up, Ripper, he may have answered but she got the impression from him that this wouldn't be something he could handle. Myk though, something about him when she first saw him made her thing that perhaps he could be her friend in this world. A friend that she could talk to that she felt she couldn't with her band mates. "Are you busy right now?"

[Myk]

Did he remember her? Well, despite his odd and selective memory, he did. Sometimes his brain could be good like that and remember for him; filing banks of information away into his subconscious to be retrieved later as if some invisible secretary were managing his brain like an old library. Thoughts like that reminded him of Stephen King’s Dreamcatcher, only he imagined someone else in control of his brain banks. Maybe a little old lady, someone similar to Mrs Hogenson from The Incredibles. Yes, she had to be an animation; real people often lacked the kind of spunk and drama that most cartoon characters had in spades. Good old, reliable Mrs Hogenson had delivered enough about Dawn to make Myk smile. Vague as his memories of Dawn were, he remembered her face and her music and that was enough to have him relax and nod along and hum to her words.

“Of course I remember you!” he began, “What’s up? I can talk. Not up to much.”

This happened a lot. No wonder he could rarely get any work done. There were so many distractions and, well, he didn’t like to turn them down. They weren’t burdens to him, just avenues of extra excitement. He welcomed distractions. His erratic mind and short-attention span practically demanded he should take them!

[Dawn Chekov]

“Of course I remember you!” he began, “What’s up? I can talk. Not up to much.”

Dawn took a breath, closing her eyes so that she could will her voice to be stronger. Like whenever she was on stage and her hunger had kicked in, the pain, the unyielding pain pulled at her. Her accent grew stronger as she willed her voice to steady and move above a whisper. "I could use someone to talk to, but not over the phone..." She started and then with another steady breath she continued "I need to do some checking up on some things for a show. Is it possible that you could meet me at Dark Eden's?" She asked, her tone hopeful.

It was the hope that not only would she have someone to talk to, but someone to hang with, a presence for her know is really there. Even if it was only someone she met once before. There was something about Myk that she seemed to gravitate to. And a small part of her thought that perhaps it was because they were physically so alike. They really could be siblings - and likely mistaken for sisters from the back - if someone really looked at them. She only hoped that it was that that she really needed. A 'friend' to talk to... to spend time with, that would help her out.

She also hoped that by getting out of the house, by taking them both somewhere public, she would have a handle on being able to talk without fully breaking down on the guy and scaring him off. Also the distraction of checking up on the latest show that was planned in the city would also mean that she would be forced into her brave face. She was, first and foremost, a performer and it wouldn't be right for her to have a breakdown where the paparazzi could get to her. "Please..." she whispered but at the same time she hadn't known that she had verbally voiced her plea, thinking it was just a plea she had said in her head.

[Myk]

Myk nodded as he spoke his reply. He had a habit of that.

“Sure, no problem,” he said cheerily, immediately.

There was a long pause after he’d agreed and then came the ‘please’, which caused his delicate nose to wrinkle. The word, spoken so softly, was barely audible, but he’d caught it. Up until now, Myk had taken her request at face value, but something about that word made him question her motives. He wasn’t particularly experienced with people and spotting the very subtle cues that reflected mood, but Dawn hadn’t been all that subtle. She seemed sad and he felt bad for her. The clown in him suggested he bring party supplies to cheer her up, but, maybe he should hear what she had to say first. If it was something trivial like a parking ticket or losing a watch, maybe the clown could have his way, but it wasn’t so great to turn up with balloon animals and juggling balls when a cat or equally beloved family member had died. Granted, Dawn and Myk weren’t particularly close – in fact, they’d met only once – but that didn’t mean Myk didn’t have the obligation to arrive and help out. Maybe he was just nice like that.

“Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll meet you there.” He’d kept his tone light to reassure her. To save her the trouble of finding words, he added a quick farewell. “See you soon, darling!” Myk closed the call then and opened his eyes. It really wouldn’t take him long to get there, he just hoped she would be there when he arrived…

[Dawn Chekov]

He agreed, and when he did, despite her mood, she smiled softly. It was fleeting and left her face almost as soon as it appeared, but it was genuinely happy. The moment he agreed she managed to pull herself up out of her tight curl on the couch and began to head for her room, so that she could get ready. He said that he would meet her there and she was glad for that as well, the only thing that had hurt had been that he had hung up all too soon. But then, she couldn't really blame him for that. He had used a term of endearment that she was sure he didn't just add for the sake of adding it. He had been already trying to cheer her up. Again, she had a fleeting smile cross her face.

Soon after they had hung up, she was walking out of the door to her apartment and heading for where she said that she wanted to meet him. Eden's. She had preformed there a couple times already and was planning a couple more shows. That is what that she needed to check on, sound checks and outfits and other things. The more artistic aspects of her shows. As she was driven to Eden's she thought about the fear that had inspired her to call Myk. Her head turned, resting against the cool glass of the taxi as it drove her through the city. Another tear slid down her cheek before she wiped it away.

Once the taxi pulled up outside, she checked her reflection. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy, but her face was still porcelain and clear of stains of her tears thanks to the quick splash of water and the kleenex she had brought with her. She eased herself out of the cab and hurried into the club. There was music playing and people dancing. She walked around for a moment looking for that white hair. That hair so close to her own platinum blonde. As she was looking for Myk, her agent found her and began to talk her ear off, of course she wasn't really even paying attention, just nodding or agreeing when she felt that she had too.

[Myk]

Dark Eden was unfamiliar territory, Mrs Hogenson had told Myk, but that didn’t put him off. He had a vague idea of where he was heading – or at least he thought so until he turned up in River Rock and looked around. It wasn’t rare for him to lose his bearings and be convinced that he hadn’t. He couldn’t deny that he’d screwed up this time, however, as not a place in sight was called Dark Eden.

“It’s in Westwall,” whispered Rutherford: the ever invisible guiding wraith.

“Oh! Hello,” Myk said, turning around as if expecting the wraith to show itself at last. It didn’t.

“You need to go to Westwall,” Rutherford whispered again.

“Oh, right. Thank you. Shall do!”

Myk had no idea if the wraith was still there or not, in fact, he rarely had any idea of where the wraith was. He’d idly summoned it one day and since then the wraith had come and went as it pleased. It didn’t take orders, it rarely answered questions, but just now and again it would seem to take pity on him and give him clues and hints and suggestions. The wraith had called itself Rutherford and Rutherford had yet to lie as far as Myk was concerned. They had a fairly amicable relationship and Myk was always friendly with it, but Rutherford was a being of its own accord. Perhaps, because of Myk’s respect toward the wraith’s kind of freedom, in the coming months Rutherford had become more helpful. As a result, Myk always made sure to be as appreciative as possible. He might not have been the type to manipulate people for his own personal gain, but there was little wrong in milking this wraith’s help if it cost him little more than friendship. Besides, Myk liked having friends, which was why he was going to these efforts for Dawn.

After a few more minutes of back-tracking, Myk made it to Dark Eden. He went in not knowing what to think of the décor. The theme became obvious the minute he saw all the indoor foliage and plants. They were strictly ripping off the Bible, which wasn’t entirely a bad thing because he actually knew that story. The venue itself was a little confused, however. It was a restaurant as much as it was a dance club and leisure centre. Myk felt confused just by looking around, thinking that there was nothing worse than a place that multi-tasked too much. Like a take-away restaurant serving not only Chinese food, but Indian and Pizza as well. The Italians, Indians and Chinese do not necessarily share a spice palate so the only result would be greasy, wrong-tasting food in three different guises. Myk wasn’t sure that this restaurant-come-nightclub-come-sports-bar was going to fare any better, but fortunately for him, it didn’t have to. He was here on a mission after all: rescue the damsel in distress!

The damsel in her trademark platinum locks and angelic-gothic attire was fairly easy to spot, but seeing as how she was busy talking to someone, Myk decided to nod his head in her direction and then walk over to the bar to wait. It was far too rude to interrupt her conversation, so he would wait until she was ready to receive him. Slipping himself onto one of the bar stools, the bartender caught his eye. He was fairly cute with the tattoos and piercing, making Myk smirk to himself. Simone probably would have found him cute as well and they could have spent a portion of their time making bets against the man’s sexuality. It was always fun to play that game even if it wasn’t fair to play against Simone. Gay or straight, men loved her. It sure was a good thing that he didn’t get jealous or particularly possessive wasn’t it!

“Can I get you a drink?” the bartender asked.

Myk hummed at him before answering, “Yes, please. Two Bloody Marys if you will?”

“Sure thing.”

He hadn’t ordered two because he was particularly thirsty or, for that matter, was he expecting Dawn to take her time. He was hoping that by the time the drinks were ready, she would be too and they could break the ice over the same first beverage they had shared when they had met – albeit, minus the Ripper blood. It seemed like a good idea.

Myk’s outfit: Clicky

[Dawn Chekov]

Dawn glanced over towards the door out of just shear boredom of having to listen to her agent list this show or that show, this problem or that problem, that she noticed that she had actually beating Myk to the place. She had assumed that the moment he hung up that he would have zipped to the place. Then again, she had no idea of the powers that he held so she had no clue if he could teleport here and there or zip from one spot to another. She turned her sad eyes, covered by her dark glasses, towards her agent. "Listen, deal with it how you want, currently I don't care." She said with a sad tone and then turned to walk away, not caring that she had just left her agent staring at her, mouth agape in shock, eyes wide with concern and a bit of annoyance.

Instead, of leaving the building like her agent thought she would, she made her way over to the bar and next to the vampire that she had come across only once before. Still, he came here to talk to her, that meant that he had to be one of the good ones right? She shook her thoughts away and forced a small smile to her face, though she had a feeling he would know that it was just that. Forced. Not because she wasn't happy to see him, but because she just wasn't happy in general. "Thank you for coming, Myk, I know this had to seem really out of left field." She said softly, her voice musical despite the fact that it was rough with the tears she had been shedding for the last week or so.

"That's a lovely shirt by the way, you'll have to tell me where you got it." She said softly, her voice still in that soft tone that she used when she was down but was trying to hide it. She didn't know what else to say at the moment and for a split second she questioned why in the hell she pulled a stranger to her to talk about problems she was sure that he didn't care about, but the damage was already done, he was here, it was time for her to see where things would go from here. Up or down, she was sure that something good would come out of this. Or at least. She preyed it would.

[Myk]

When Dawn arrived, as did the drinks. Myk wanted to be cheery when she approached and sat beside him, but he found it difficult to put on a smile when he saw those sad blue eyes and that definite pout. Clearly, whatever was bothering her could not be rectified with a few parlour tricks and balloon animals. Laughter might have been the best medicine, but Myk wasn’t much of a comedian. All he could do was adopt the kind of rational approach and listen to her problems; after all, you have to find out what’s wrong before you can fix it. He did smile when she mentioned his shirt, however. He pinched some of the red satin and drew it out into a point, kind of like he was trying to put it under his nose to inspect it.

“Yes? You like it? Well,” he said happily, a red smile brightening his pallid features. “I can’t really remember where I get my clothes, but it’s so nice of you to point it out. I like your clothes too,” he said, dropping his tone into something of a purr. “We have excellent dress sense, you and I. But you didn’t ask me here to talk about clothes. Did you.”

Myk nudged the glass of red liquid toward her. Booze was, after all, the answer and cause of all of life’s little problems.

“Tell me all about it, honey.”