#elisa2

Say what you wanted to about her sudden interest in Upper St. Vladimir’s and what it could have to do with a certain acquaintance she’d made recently, Sylvia maintained she’d only suggested the spot because it was sufficiently creepy in a way she thought her company could appreciate, if podcast and host had anything in common. She supposed it was an ambitious jump to make, considering how little she had in common with her own online personality.  Whatever. 

“Hi!” Sylvia waved with both hands, super uncool and fine with looking a bit dorky while everyone else in the café remained statuesque and muted. They talked in hushed tones, mouths barely moving. She was still getting used to the way vampires were when they were in their own spaces. 

Though she hadn’t met Elisa before, she felt this girl was unmistakably her; the only other mortal among them. “I hope you found the place alright. I always get confused on this part of the island. So much of it’s belowground, I can’t tell if directions are telling me to go North or go up.” She laughed. “I spent most of my life in Wailing Waters, so.” A shrug.

Don’t be late. Francisco Ives must have warned his son a dozen times that day alone, to say nothing of the clothes he’d had lain out, the extra hands sent to rouse Alexander from slumber and usher him into uniform, those tasked with parting his hair in the fashionable and tame way, the ones shining the already pristine leather of his shoes. Don’t be late. It would have been nearly impossible to be. 

Yet, Alexander was managing it just fine. Somewhere around the back of the building his car was being valeted; Alexander lit an e-cig and loitered on the sidewalk to smoke it and wait for his “date”, or rather his “insurance”, to arrive. 

Elisa Salaliphus. Alexander suspected when she helped him find the time in the casino some weeks ago she never expected any further contact would come of it, but vampires didn’t have the luxury of forgetting encounters. The good or the bad. So when his father had insisted don’t be late, Alexander’s mind connected the dots. Of course, he had not invited her with the intention of being on time, but with the intention of having a pair of watchful eyes to make sure he didn’t get too out of hand as he was wont to do at his father’s events. If history was any indication. 

Ever since the fight that brought on his new car-slash-apology, things had been... quiet enough at home. The last thing Alexander wanted to do was invite his father’s rage back into the Ives Compound prematurely. Alexander knew it would always return eventually, but that didn’t mean he wished to rush it. 

He could be late, it would be a petty act to get him through the rest of the night, but he couldn’t be worse than late. Thus, a date. Sitter. Er... level-headed (Presumably? He didn’t know her that well to be frank.) companion.

“Thanks for coming.” He greeted her with a polite kiss to either cheek. “It was short notice, I know.” He may have dreaded the night to come, seeing it for the political bullshit it was sure to be, but anyone else on the island would have been wooed by an open bar at a notoriously elite establishment. It was a fair deal, he thought. A lavish night, free of charge, in exchange for distracting a vampire out of too much trouble. 

.

Elba had managed to stay anonymous, which was certainly easy when on both hands, you could count everyone you personally knew. She only felt she knew Elisa as well as she did, from listening to her podcast. It’s what made the siren’s voice as recognizable as the sun, Elba standing close to her as they were given the rules for this circle. This room had been the loudest, by far. The chaos of glass, bones, and hearts broke as they experienced some of their worst visions and physical nightmares. You could see the other circles plastered to her body. The spaghetti straps of her dress were rich with blood, an overzealous vampire nipping at her neck before she’d given permission. Just not there, she would have requested. The pain settled when she willed it to, which caused her to believe the pain was always a placebo, or perhaps this mansion was an illusion waiting to be broken and disbelieved in. Not incredibly ready to face that music, Elba was determined to press forward where others were not.  

“I don’t want to leave you behind,” she all but sighed. It was dramatic, but she did not know what happened to those who walked away from here or gave up on circles halfway through. She hadn’t given up yet and wasn’t ready to be faced with punishment. Every decision of her own since birth had been given a similar reaction, you couldn’t blame her for fearing the worst. “But I am going to go ahead.”