Never an honest word... (rp for dealing_death)

[magic_fratboy]

He was learning, very quickly, to find some means of drawing when the darkness descended.

Tonight, thankfully, he was at home with oils and canvas, painting freehand with no charcoal or pencil to guide him. Through the haze over his vision, a vivid storm of reds, blacks, and oranges was coming to life. Piece by piece, he was assembling fragments of a larger picture he couldn't describe or even quite make out, but it was right there at the edges of his awareness.

Without knowing what was to come, he could already tell there was a storm brewing.

When the fog lifted and he could clearly see the monstrosity on the canvas, he worked on adding his own touches in hopes that he could do something with the piece. Sell it, give it away, excise the cancer he'd just put down in oils and hope it didn't come to pass. He rarely understood his visions, and this was no exception.

This vision, this malestrom of fire and brimstone...he didn't want to understand it.

He was just thinking of altering the picture, knowing he never would, when her voice reached him. As he toyed with tubes of green and gray to soften the edges of the smoke in the painting, he heard shouting in the other room and frowned. Glancing up, he stared at the image...

...the dark, slender shadow at the center of a firestorm that seemed to coalesce into two hellish points of red...

Shrugging it off, he dropped the paint and headed for the guest room/home office. "Selene? Baby, everything okay?"

Comments

[dealing-death.livejournal.com]

In the guest room she paced. Far too angry for the confines of the tiny space. Against her ear she held the phone with one hand while the other clenched in a tight fist, a manifestation of her rage.

When he entered the room she was at the tale end of her rant.

"Damn it Tristan!" She bellowed. At first she had tried to keep the yelling to a minimum. To keep from alerting Tommy to what was going on. "You will fix this...." Seeing Tommy at the door she sighed. "Tomorrow." The phone vibrated with the Prince's laughter as he explained for the hundredth time that it was just a joke. "Fucking hilarious! I am in stitches.....yes...fine...." She growled and hung up once he gave her a time.

Holding the phone a little too tightly in her hand Selene took a deep, cleansing breath. "Fine." The word sounded as tense as she looked. Another deep breath. Do not take it out on him she told herself. When she opened her eyes she smiled at Tommy. The smell of paint hung in the air and stained his fingers. "What did you paint?"

Likely another of the visions he was not pleased with having.

[dealing-death.livejournal.com]

“It was a joke.” She whispered to him as her somber dark eyes were trapped by the hellfire in his eyes. “He meant no harm.” This time, she thought. This time he meant no harm but Tristan was a very great threat. Tommy would have every reason to want to rid the world of his presence. After all he had found a way to tear Selene away from a relationship six hundred years in the making. Held in his hands she trembled.

“I took off Catherine’s necklace for you, it kept me safe from their manipulations and I took it off. Do you not see that I do trust you, I draw strength from having you beside me…I never would have taken it off if I didn’t.”

She would not use him to fight her fights. The very idea of it made her eyes fill with shame. That was not why she was with him; she had no use for his power. All Selene wanted from Tommy was his love. Her head dropped and she took a deep breath. “You want a name, fine, Tristan Gray. Go on then. Go….use your power…give into rage…kill him.”

She took a step back breaking the contact between them. Now it was her turn to be angry.

“Or trust me, have faith in me, that is the power I need.” Selene shot him a look that was filled with hurt and anger before storming off to their bedroom. She did not have the heart to tell him to just leave her alone, so she did what she always does. She just walked away.