Post by Catherine Foster on Jun 9, 2005 14:34:17 GMT -8
June 8, 2005.
Smith Tower, Seattle Washington.
(co-author: Carlo Giovanni)
The streets of downtown Seattle were beginning to empty as people trickled out to their comfortable homes, to hide from a world they did not want to know. Two individuals, far above them, were just starting their "days". Carlo sat at a table scribing the last page of an ancient book into a more modern, less aged copy. His head was bent over his work, but was obviously distracted by the other individual in the room with him. She was standing on the other side of the table, hair damp from the light rain, oversized gray sweater tied at the waist.
"Sorry about making you wait Re-... Catie," he shook his head as he corrected himself, "it's been a long day, and I've hardly had any time to finish this one page."
"It's quite all right, Carlo." Catie stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, lips curved in a sad half-smile. "I'll happily give you as much time as you need to finish."
Carlo looked up at her and nodded, "Thank you. We could still talk a little while I'm writing, it doesn't distract too much." He bent his head back down, and she pursed her lips, opening her mouth, and closing it, before opening again to speak.
"Carlo, do you remember when we went to talk for that one lesson...you said.. that if I needed it, you'd try to help me?"
He stopped writing mid-sentence and looked up again, "Oh, now you didn't mention this would be about that, that's a little more important." He set his ink pen in a small case and bottled his inkwell. He then stood, and motioned towards the arm chairs.
"Sit, comfort before business."
She laughed, softly, hand covering her mouth to hide the slight smile as she sat in the familiar chair, across his.
"Now that's an improvement," he smiled and sat after her, "now, I hope you're not in any sort of immediate danger, I don't really have any spare room yet, not that I wouldn't find some for you."
Catherine shook her head. "It's not necessarily immediate, and I'm not sure how Uncle would feel about me staying in Giovanni domain."
He nodded, "Of course. So what do you need help with?"
She sighed, lips trembling slightly. "This is all...very sensitive and interconnected, you understand."
He nodded, slowly settling into the chair and steepling his hands, "As are much of the nights that we spend spinning the politics in the Emerald Domain."
"Yes. It all began.. well, some time ago...."
She swallowed, as she began to paint the desperate picture for him, stopping at one point to take a deep breath as she closed her eyes, whispering her responses to his questions. He became progressively more stiff in his chair, back straight as he questioned her. He watched her expression grow more vulnerable and fearful with each question, till tears began to fall. He grabbed a footstool and pulled in close to her, sitting directly in front of her, but not touching.
"If he comes for me, the Independents could suffer." Half numb, she raised a hand to brush away a bloody tear as it found its' way from her eye, down her cheek.
She opened her eyes, meeting the resolve in his eyes with her own. They began to argue in low voices, till he rose from the stool, crossing to the table to grip the edge. As he did so, she took her glasses off, wiping the tears away as she asked why.
"Why do I need a reason to help?"
"Because I'm just one.. girl!" The word was forced, choked as she covered her mouth for a moment, eyes closing as she bowed her head. "I don't know. Because you have nothing to gain other then my survival and presence by joining this fight. We don't live among people that are given to extraordinary acts of kindness and protection often."
The edge of the table snapped off under his hands, sending splinters into the air with a loud crack. "God damnmit, I'm not one of them!" He dropped the piece of wood in his hand, "I'm still human, I can still feel!"
Her lips parted in shock. "I...I'm sorry. For offending you." Catherine shook her head, braids moving with the motion. "I didn't mean to."
He dropped to his knees, holding his face, "Don't you see, I care for you, I don't know why that's so hard to understand, you had to have felt it in the past." He looked up at her, tears in his eyes, as he got up and went to the bookshelf.
He took a deep breath while pulling out an antique book, spine done in gold gilding, silk laces tying it shut. "This is the only thing grandfather let me take when I left his home in Venice." He gently untied the lace and opened the book as she followed his movements, coming to stand next to him. Within the book were pictures, old pictures, some hand painted and some from the early photo cameras.
Carlo flipped through the book and until he came to a hand painted picture, almost an exact rendition of the woman standing next to him, dressed differently, but still possessing the same vivid hazel eyes. She swallowed, pressing one hand against her stomach as he spoke softly, looking from the picture to her. "Mariea Giovanni, my older sister."
They stared at each other for a long moment.
"It had to be jarring." She said it softly, eyes on his face.
"The first time I saw you in the Lounge I had to bite my tongue to keep from calling that name, and crying." He lifted the book and closed it. "Yes, it was a little jarring."
"Carlo..." she reached her hand out, hesitant, towards his shoulder.
He turned and grabbed her wrist, smiling, before looking away, releasing her wrist.
"Is it such an offense to want to hold you?" Catherine whispered the question softly.
He looks down at the floor and whispered in response, "No."
She took a deep, steadying breath, stepping in close to him. In the dim light of the apartment they were close, alone, surrounded by her own unique mix of scents among the books. She breathed, knowing he could smell it, register the familiarity. Lavender lotion, floral conditioner, the damp wool smell from the sweater tied around her waist, caught in the light rain before she'd come to him.
She wrapped her arms around him, a cradling and familial hug, one hand gently touching the back of his head, hand on his hair. They talked, quietly, as he wrapped both arms around her middle and leaned his head on her shoulder.
"If this man ever comes to hurt you, or even if he just comes to bother you, you let me know who he is, where he sleeps and I'll solve everything, my own way." He looked at the table over her shoulder as he stepped out of her embrace, and shook his head, "God I'm a wreck tonight..."
She reached her hand out to squeeze his shoulder, gently. "Forgive yourself for that, Carlo. Emotions and tensions run high within the domain right now."
He nodded, "You're right of course, it's been quite stressful for many these weeks," his eyes flitted to the side and returned to hers, "that reminds me, Angus hasn't been to the Gaslight recently and I've heard that he is quite out of sorts as of lately. Not too long after your announcement. Do you know anything about this?"
"I do." Her voice was sad.
He led her by the hand back to her chair, and again took his place on the stool, eyeing her intently as she spoke. When she finished, she stared at him in silence.
He blinked and stared at her in her return, ".... Damn."
She put her glasses back on, giving him a weak smile as she crossed herself. "I've thought of saying that."
She clasped her hands over her knee as she asked her questions of him, getting an affirmative wink in response. Catherine laughed, softly. "Good. I would make a special request, though, if you think it would be possible."
"Ask and I shall tell you."
She tilted her head, hazel eyes taking in his expression as she asked, both out of need and urgency for him to grant her special request, and he lapsed into momentary silence as he thought. Slowly, he began speaking, formulating an answer to her plan. When he was done, she smiled. Impulsively, she leaned foreword in her chair to wrap him in a brief, tight hug. Her black braids framed her half-hidden face, pressed against his crisp shirt as she held onto him.
He stiffened with surprise and then relaxed, smiling to himself.
"Thank you." Her words were emphatic, her tone firm, sweet and grateful. She let him go, again leaning backward in her chair. "I should be getting back to Uncle."
He stood and held out a hand to help her up, "Of course, do you need an escort to your home?"
She took his warm hand in her cool one, smiling. "If you wish, you can escort me to the border. The Family and the Malkavians aren't that far away from one another."
"That should not be a problem, the car ride should be pleasant," he smiled, "... sis."
She grinned. "I'm sure it will be. It's what little brothers are for-making their big sisters' lives pleasant."
Carlo laughed, a wide grin on his face as he led her to the door, each holding the hand of the other.
Smith Tower, Seattle Washington.
(co-author: Carlo Giovanni)
The streets of downtown Seattle were beginning to empty as people trickled out to their comfortable homes, to hide from a world they did not want to know. Two individuals, far above them, were just starting their "days". Carlo sat at a table scribing the last page of an ancient book into a more modern, less aged copy. His head was bent over his work, but was obviously distracted by the other individual in the room with him. She was standing on the other side of the table, hair damp from the light rain, oversized gray sweater tied at the waist.
"Sorry about making you wait Re-... Catie," he shook his head as he corrected himself, "it's been a long day, and I've hardly had any time to finish this one page."
"It's quite all right, Carlo." Catie stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, lips curved in a sad half-smile. "I'll happily give you as much time as you need to finish."
Carlo looked up at her and nodded, "Thank you. We could still talk a little while I'm writing, it doesn't distract too much." He bent his head back down, and she pursed her lips, opening her mouth, and closing it, before opening again to speak.
"Carlo, do you remember when we went to talk for that one lesson...you said.. that if I needed it, you'd try to help me?"
He stopped writing mid-sentence and looked up again, "Oh, now you didn't mention this would be about that, that's a little more important." He set his ink pen in a small case and bottled his inkwell. He then stood, and motioned towards the arm chairs.
"Sit, comfort before business."
She laughed, softly, hand covering her mouth to hide the slight smile as she sat in the familiar chair, across his.
"Now that's an improvement," he smiled and sat after her, "now, I hope you're not in any sort of immediate danger, I don't really have any spare room yet, not that I wouldn't find some for you."
Catherine shook her head. "It's not necessarily immediate, and I'm not sure how Uncle would feel about me staying in Giovanni domain."
He nodded, "Of course. So what do you need help with?"
She sighed, lips trembling slightly. "This is all...very sensitive and interconnected, you understand."
He nodded, slowly settling into the chair and steepling his hands, "As are much of the nights that we spend spinning the politics in the Emerald Domain."
"Yes. It all began.. well, some time ago...."
She swallowed, as she began to paint the desperate picture for him, stopping at one point to take a deep breath as she closed her eyes, whispering her responses to his questions. He became progressively more stiff in his chair, back straight as he questioned her. He watched her expression grow more vulnerable and fearful with each question, till tears began to fall. He grabbed a footstool and pulled in close to her, sitting directly in front of her, but not touching.
"If he comes for me, the Independents could suffer." Half numb, she raised a hand to brush away a bloody tear as it found its' way from her eye, down her cheek.
She opened her eyes, meeting the resolve in his eyes with her own. They began to argue in low voices, till he rose from the stool, crossing to the table to grip the edge. As he did so, she took her glasses off, wiping the tears away as she asked why.
"Why do I need a reason to help?"
"Because I'm just one.. girl!" The word was forced, choked as she covered her mouth for a moment, eyes closing as she bowed her head. "I don't know. Because you have nothing to gain other then my survival and presence by joining this fight. We don't live among people that are given to extraordinary acts of kindness and protection often."
The edge of the table snapped off under his hands, sending splinters into the air with a loud crack. "God damnmit, I'm not one of them!" He dropped the piece of wood in his hand, "I'm still human, I can still feel!"
Her lips parted in shock. "I...I'm sorry. For offending you." Catherine shook her head, braids moving with the motion. "I didn't mean to."
He dropped to his knees, holding his face, "Don't you see, I care for you, I don't know why that's so hard to understand, you had to have felt it in the past." He looked up at her, tears in his eyes, as he got up and went to the bookshelf.
He took a deep breath while pulling out an antique book, spine done in gold gilding, silk laces tying it shut. "This is the only thing grandfather let me take when I left his home in Venice." He gently untied the lace and opened the book as she followed his movements, coming to stand next to him. Within the book were pictures, old pictures, some hand painted and some from the early photo cameras.
Carlo flipped through the book and until he came to a hand painted picture, almost an exact rendition of the woman standing next to him, dressed differently, but still possessing the same vivid hazel eyes. She swallowed, pressing one hand against her stomach as he spoke softly, looking from the picture to her. "Mariea Giovanni, my older sister."
They stared at each other for a long moment.
"It had to be jarring." She said it softly, eyes on his face.
"The first time I saw you in the Lounge I had to bite my tongue to keep from calling that name, and crying." He lifted the book and closed it. "Yes, it was a little jarring."
"Carlo..." she reached her hand out, hesitant, towards his shoulder.
He turned and grabbed her wrist, smiling, before looking away, releasing her wrist.
"Is it such an offense to want to hold you?" Catherine whispered the question softly.
He looks down at the floor and whispered in response, "No."
She took a deep, steadying breath, stepping in close to him. In the dim light of the apartment they were close, alone, surrounded by her own unique mix of scents among the books. She breathed, knowing he could smell it, register the familiarity. Lavender lotion, floral conditioner, the damp wool smell from the sweater tied around her waist, caught in the light rain before she'd come to him.
She wrapped her arms around him, a cradling and familial hug, one hand gently touching the back of his head, hand on his hair. They talked, quietly, as he wrapped both arms around her middle and leaned his head on her shoulder.
"If this man ever comes to hurt you, or even if he just comes to bother you, you let me know who he is, where he sleeps and I'll solve everything, my own way." He looked at the table over her shoulder as he stepped out of her embrace, and shook his head, "God I'm a wreck tonight..."
She reached her hand out to squeeze his shoulder, gently. "Forgive yourself for that, Carlo. Emotions and tensions run high within the domain right now."
He nodded, "You're right of course, it's been quite stressful for many these weeks," his eyes flitted to the side and returned to hers, "that reminds me, Angus hasn't been to the Gaslight recently and I've heard that he is quite out of sorts as of lately. Not too long after your announcement. Do you know anything about this?"
"I do." Her voice was sad.
He led her by the hand back to her chair, and again took his place on the stool, eyeing her intently as she spoke. When she finished, she stared at him in silence.
He blinked and stared at her in her return, ".... Damn."
She put her glasses back on, giving him a weak smile as she crossed herself. "I've thought of saying that."
She clasped her hands over her knee as she asked her questions of him, getting an affirmative wink in response. Catherine laughed, softly. "Good. I would make a special request, though, if you think it would be possible."
"Ask and I shall tell you."
She tilted her head, hazel eyes taking in his expression as she asked, both out of need and urgency for him to grant her special request, and he lapsed into momentary silence as he thought. Slowly, he began speaking, formulating an answer to her plan. When he was done, she smiled. Impulsively, she leaned foreword in her chair to wrap him in a brief, tight hug. Her black braids framed her half-hidden face, pressed against his crisp shirt as she held onto him.
He stiffened with surprise and then relaxed, smiling to himself.
"Thank you." Her words were emphatic, her tone firm, sweet and grateful. She let him go, again leaning backward in her chair. "I should be getting back to Uncle."
He stood and held out a hand to help her up, "Of course, do you need an escort to your home?"
She took his warm hand in her cool one, smiling. "If you wish, you can escort me to the border. The Family and the Malkavians aren't that far away from one another."
"That should not be a problem, the car ride should be pleasant," he smiled, "... sis."
She grinned. "I'm sure it will be. It's what little brothers are for-making their big sisters' lives pleasant."
Carlo laughed, a wide grin on his face as he led her to the door, each holding the hand of the other.