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Post by Ophelia Fuilteach on Mar 26, 2012 19:55:36 GMT
It had been little more than a week since she had been admitted to Saint Mungo's, and already she was starting to improve. Her appearance was less wild and gaunt, even though she was still very thin. The hospital staff insisted she shower every day, so at least she was clean, but her hair was a wild mass of curls every time it dried. Her malady was still as destructive as ever, but the healers were confident that she would make progress in time.
The ward was bright and airy, despite being windowless. The room was lit with lanterns, enchanted to be unbreakable in the event that Ophelia has a wild moment and attacked them. Due to her vampire nature, and her unpredictable mental instability, her room was private, and she was often kept away from the other patients.
Her father had sent her fine linen nightgowns with lace at the cuffs and neck, dismissing the hospital gowns as "tasteless, and dreadfully modern". Every time he visited, he either sneaked in some small trinket or home comfort for her (like her hairbrush and comb, or bouquets of flowers), or flat out told the hospital staff that he was bringing in something for his daughter, his tone and imperial stare challenging them to tell him otherwise, like he had done when he had brought her the cello she had so missed in Italy. She played it almost religiously, clinging to the instrument like it was a life-saver in a stormy sea, and teased melodies both familiar and alien from its strings night and day, much to the chagrin of the guards who stood outside her door.
Visiting hours had begun, the healers had done their rounds, and Ophelia was left alone with her cello, waiting on someone to stop by and ease her loneliness.
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Post by Augustus Pye on Mar 28, 2012 6:00:19 GMT
Gus had heard a lot of rumours about the new inpatient, all very lurid, Rita-Skeeter-tabloid way. The opposite was an article in the Quibbler, soppy, and full of esoteric ramblings and incoherent demands about vampire rights.
When the head nurse called him for an errand he was rather pleased. "Augustus, there has been a mix-up, will you please take up a second packet of blood to the new patient?"
Of course he would! This was his chance to see what all the gossip was about!
By habit he knocked politely at the door, even though it was closed with a spell and the guards had to open for him. Gus peered cautiously into the room, but all he saw was a frail young woman in an oldfashioned nightgown that could easily pass for an eccentric party dress.
"Hello, I'm Healer Pye.", he introduced himself. "They forgot your dessert." He placed the bag on the little table next to the bed.
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Post by Ophelia Fuilteach on Mar 28, 2012 17:52:10 GMT
Ophelia looked up when she heard the door open. She peered curiously at the curly haired young man who stepped in. He looked a friendly sort, and she was aching for company. Being left alone with her own thoughts was rarely a pleasant experience for her of late. Sickness often spoke to her when she was alone, but the potion they gave helped to keep her at bay.
"Hello, Healer Pye," Ophelia said. She looked at the bag of blood and licked her lips. "Thank you. I was starting to feel hungry." She picked up the bag and hesitated before biting into it. Manners must always come first after all, and her father had been working hard to make sure she hadn't forgotten them. "Do forgive me, Healer Pye, but would you mind terribly turning away while I eat? Feeding is always such an intimate thing for us."
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Post by Augustus Pye on Mar 30, 2012 8:41:56 GMT
"Sure." Gus shrugged and turned around, contemplating a painting with frolicking foals.
She didn't look dangerous at all. He didn't know what he expected to find, probably a bloodstained creature with fangs and claws? Definitely not a plain and introverted looking girl who observed an -albeit strange- eating etiquette.
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Post by Ophelia Fuilteach on Mar 30, 2012 14:29:13 GMT
"Thank you," she said softly. She sank her teeth into the packet of blood, and drank with her eyes closed until the pack was completely drained. She sighed and took it away from her mouth, before looking at Healer Pye again. It had been so long since she had bitten a real throat, felt the struggle for life under her touch. She dropped the pack of blood and took a hesitant step toward him.
She warred mentally with herself, not wanting to hurt the healer, but also desperate to taste fresh, warm blood. It had such a distinctly different flavour, and biting a real person was much more satisfying to a vampire. She moved silently behind him, so close she could smell the blood in his veins. She paused, the sane part of her mind making her hesitate. She shouldn't do this.
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Post by Augustus Pye on Mar 31, 2012 9:51:52 GMT
Gus felt her eyes on him and it made him uncomfortable. He turned around again and jumped from surprise. Although he had felt her gaze, he didn't expect her to be so close, and the peculiar glint that flamed up for a second in her eyes did nothing to calm him down.
"Hey!" He tried to compose himself. He worked in a hospital, he should be able to deal with odd patients.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
He squeezed around her and took the empty bag, kneading it nervously in his hands as he walked slowly towards the door.
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Post by Ophelia Fuilteach on Mar 31, 2012 14:48:59 GMT
The sudden flash of fear in his eyes, the spike in his heartbeat... She made a strangled sound somewhere between frustration and hunger. Struggle and fear were irresistable to any vampire, especially to one so weakened by hunger and illness. Her eyes were blood red as she looked at him, reflecting for just a heartbeat the madness within.
The moment he spoke, she blinked, and seemed to relax. "Forgive me," she said, her voice quiet. "It's been a dreadfully long time since I've had some company that isn't either vampiric or my own insanity, and I'm afraid it's been even longer since I've had real blood."
She gave him a strange smile, and giggled unpleasantly. "Your neck just seemed uncommonly tempting for a moment there." She sat down on the narrow bed and smoothed out one of her lace cuffs as though she hadn't just been contemplating biting the poor young man moments earlier.
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Post by Augustus Pye on Apr 1, 2012 7:41:45 GMT
He still felt slightly uncomfortable, but he could understand what she said about company.
Reluctantly he decided to sit down for a moment. After all, the guards were outside. Gus let his eyes wander around the room and noticed for the fist time the cello.
"You play?", he asked, "I mean how long do you play?"
He didn't want to appear completely stupid, why should a vampire not play an instrument, but on the other hand it could be a therapeutic measure, imposed by a healer. In any case, talking about music seemed a safe subject, better than discussing the mouth-watering quality of his neck.
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Post by Ophelia Fuilteach on Apr 2, 2012 13:32:11 GMT
She looked up at her cello and smiled. "I do. Isn't she a beautiful piece of craft? Made by the finest luthier my father could afford," she said proudly. "I've been playing since I was five years old. My brother helped me with my bowing when I was still a child."
She stood, and walked over to the gleaming instrument. She ran her hand over the curves of the cello, a slight smile on her face. "Two decades I've been playing, and I've never fallen out of love with music," she said. "No matter how much she tried to make me forget it..." she added.
She plucked a few strings, playing a brief pizzicato melody. Her expression softened at the sound of the music, and even her body language seemed to relax.
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Post by Augustus Pye on May 6, 2012 11:27:31 GMT
Surprised he looked at the change in her attitude. For a brief moment he was able to spot a beautiful and happy woman behind the miserable patient in front of him.
"Would you play something for me? I love music, I have had lessons myself, although I don't get much time to practise anymore after I started working here."
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Post by Ophelia Fuilteach on May 6, 2012 23:16:38 GMT
She smiled at him, looking absolutely delighted to be asked to play. " Of course! I hope you appreciate Bach... I'm a Baroque girl through and through. Even Sickness couldn't take that away from me." She moved her cello, picking up her bow in her right hand, and delicately plucked the four strings spaced across the ebony fingerboard of the instrument, testing their tone. " What instrument do you play?" she asked, only half interested now that she had her cello back in her hands. She adjusted the endpin so it was at the correct height for her to play standing up, and then started to play Bach's Cello Suite No. 1, Prélude with all the passion and intensity only true musicians and the truly insane can muster. Her eyes closed, and her body swayed as she teased each note from the instrument. This was the reason her father had insisted upon bringing it to her. It meant she had something she could focus on and create while she recovered.
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Post by Augustus Pye on May 8, 2012 8:06:47 GMT
Gus sat totally still and listened, impressed. He had expected a good performance, cello was no instrument one chose randomly. Only, this was magic! He didn't move until the last note had stopped lingering in the room, then he took a deep breath.
"This was brilliant! Have you ever played in concerts?"
He felt idiotic to have mentioned his own musical attempts.
"I only play guitar, like most everybody, but as tunes come so easily to me, I never put much energy in practising."
He looked a while at her, and she continued to appear completely normal.
"If anything, I suppose music will heal you, don't you think? You were away from here, from me, and best of all, away from your sickness."
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Post by Ophelia Fuilteach on May 10, 2012 19:53:15 GMT
Eyes closed, she seemed to have forgotten where she was for a moment. She eventually opened her eyes, and blinked once or twice before glancing at Gus.
"Thank you, but no. Playing music was always just something I did for family and friends. My father plays violin, like my brother used to, and my mother played viola. We used to play music in father's study after nightfall."
She gently set her cello back against the wall, and placed her bow on the floor.
"Music is an escape, Healer Pye. While I have to focus on putting every fibre of my being into the music, I don't have time to acknowledge my insanity. But if I sing, she starts to sing too, and she's impossible to shut up once she starts."
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Post by Augustus Pye on May 13, 2012 11:59:29 GMT
Gus couldn't help chuckling.
"Maybe your voice is just zany, and 'she' feels attracted to it? - No, I am kidding, I shouldn't do that. Fact is, 'she' didn't show her ugly face when you were playing this beautiful piece, so I assume beauty and happiness is a horror for 'her'. Does 'she' come out when you think of these happy times, playing with your family? When you recall moments with your family, or your husband, at all?"
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Post by Ophelia Fuilteach on May 24, 2012 11:32:22 GMT
Looks a bit unfocused and says in a somewhat scared voice,
"Everything I am is a horror to her. What she is, is pure vampire, the very worst of our kind. She has no conscience, no kindness, no honour. She exists only for the blood and the hunt, and she thinks to love is to be weak. She wants to destroy everything I am... I'm getting better at keeping her out, but at times I can't help it. If I'm too weak, or tired, or hungry to keep her at bay, she takes over."
Looks up at Healer Pye, her red eyes wide and frightened.
"She's here, all the time. At first I thought I was just hearing my own thoughts, but they were so much darker and crueller than anything I had ever thought before, then I realised I was having a conversation with her. I don't want Bojan to ever see her. I don't want him to know what I could become! But I'm so afraid all the time, I'm afraid that some day I won't be able to keep her out any more, and all that I am will be lost in her."
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