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tampered2007-02-26 03:03 am
holy-assumption.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-02-26 03:03 am
Log; Complete
When; February 20th (Mardi Gras), Evening
Rating; R
Characters; Walter Sullivan [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
holy_assumption] and Alessa Gillespie [alessalearnt]
Summary; Alessa asks Walter to meet her at Cafe Juliet and an uneasy (and quite reluctant) alliance is established.
Log;
Walter was not entirely sure why Alessa had requested his presence for this 'date,' but the very least she could have done was arrive at a reasonable time. As it was, he had been sitting with his back to the wall at one of the outside tables at Cafe Juliet for nearly an hour by his reckoning. But he was patient and the throng of inebriated City-dwellers that had taken to the streets in a veritable orgy of bacchanalian revelry had provided him with all of the entertainment he needed at the present. There was nothing even remotely comparable to Mardi Gras in Silent Hill or Ashfield, and the very notion that the residents of an entire city would arbitrarily give in to the basest of carnal desires for a single night before engaging in an extended period of asceticism was fascinating... and more than a little disgusting.
Alessa hadn't intended to be late. In fact, she wanted to be there early. For all intents and purposes, Walter was her enemy, and she was determined to keep one step ahead of him. Unfortunately, the City seemed to have other ideas. The parade traversed throughout the center of the City, full of colors and float displays that were more than enough for Alessa's eyes, so used to the darkness. The crowd moved along easily enough, but whenever a woman would flash her bosom for the whole world to see, the crowd would stop abruptly and loud cheers could be heard, and the colorful Mardi Gras beads flew through the air to the open arms of the women.
She pushed her way through the crowd, the cafe in her sight now. It didn't take too long, but she finally made it. To her disappointment, Walter was there already, watching the people with a sort of amused boredom. She took a deep breath, using every ounce of willpower to contain the pure rage that was dying to explode from herself. If she wanted to, she could very well have started their confrontation here and now, but she knew they couldn't just fight. There was so much more than them, and they had to put their hatred aside for now. She approached the table in determination, her head held high. She was wearing one of Henry's shirts, the ring he had given her displayed proudly on her finger. "Walter." She said, stopping in front of the table and slowly taking a seat.
Walter looked up and scowled faintly. "Alessa." He replied, reflexively reaching for the pistol he had tucked away in one of the huge pockets on either side of his heavy Prussian blue overcoat, only to withdraw his unarmed hand when he saw her sit down. She wasn't going to make a move... not yet, anyway.
He gave her a cursory glance, noting the familiar pale blue shirt that he may have very well worn on the day he was 'cursed' to wear Henry's clothes. Apart from that minor detail, she was physically unremarkable. Oh, she was comely and finely shaped enough, but he had more... discerning tastes.
Alessa watched him carefully, and tensed up as she saw him reach for the weapon that she was pretty sure he had hidden away in his pocket, but relaxed once his hand retreated. His eyes lingered over her for a moment, and she could feel her anger stirring. She didn't want Henry's murderer looking at her like that.
"So. Here we are. I suppose you're wondering why I asked you to come here." She stated, picking up a menu and idly looking at the items that she wasn't even going to order. The partying continued, but it was as if there was only the two of them, enemies facing one another amongst the rambunctious crowd.
"I am curious, yes. Surely you would know that I am not in the habit of attending raucous parties wherein the populace as a whole collectively abandons any and all pretenses of sentient awareness."
He wasn't stupid. Although Alessa had made it clear that she had asked to meet him for non-confrontational purposes, Walter was not about to let her catch him unawares, which is why he came to the party armed. For safety measures, of course.
Alessa nodded. She didn't think Walter was stupid, oh no. To do so would only make her underestimate him, and she couldn't afford to do that. "We need to set some boundaries and guidelines. You and I both know that a confrontation is inevitable, but it isn't the time nor the place. I do not even know when that will be, but in the meantime..."
She set the menu down and looked him square in the eyes, her blue eyes stone cold. "I am proposing a truce of sorts. We both have our own agendas as far as God is concerned, and unfortunately, I now have no intention of stopping you due to your most...thoughtful gift.
...make no mistake that I will get revenge for Henry," she growled. "But for the better of our individual parties...I am not allowed to strike you until the Red God grants me permission." You should consider yourself lucky, she thought, wanting to add that last bit, but doing so would only provoke him, and a fight to the death didn't sound that appealing at the moment.
"Dear girl," Walter sighed. "You still do not, as they say, get it. Yes, we have our own agendas, but I helped you. Killing Henry served a multitude of purposes."
He paused, drinking in the sight of her barely concealed rage as if it were the sweetest ambrosia. "Long before you ever met him, I marked Henry as the Receiver of Wisdom. The Final Sign of the 21 Sacraments. I'm getting ahead of myself, but Vincent has told you that the 21 Sacraments as well as the Holy Woman sect's birthing ritual are both required for the resurrection of the Holy Mother, has he not?"
Alessa eyed him warily. Vincent hadn't told her this. She wasn't sure if she could trust what Walter was telling her; she would have to have a very long talk with Vincent as soon as she returned to the manor, that was for sure.
"No, he hasn't," Alessa admitted. "But if that is the case..." Her voice trailed off. She couldn't bring herself to thank him, not the man who had killed the only person who might have been able to give her a normal life. "At least we both understand each other, I am assuming," she finished.
"I did not want to believe it, myself," Walter began earnestly. "It contradicted everything I had been taught in my formative years, but... I completed the 21 Sacraments and still no Mother..." He trailed off, eyes downcast. "So apparently there must be some truth to Vincent's words."
Walter was admitting quasi-defeat and in front of a de facto enemy, no less. To think that his driving goal, his life's work would have been ultimately futile if not for the Holy Woman sect and their precious 'Mother of God.'
Which had been Alessa Gillespie. A woman that had not even wanted the role that had been bestowed upon her. Alessa... Claudia used to talk at length to him about her childhood friend, but Walter had never thought much of her. What was so fucking special about Alessa, anyway? If she had no interest in being the 'Mother of God,' then what good was she? That title belonged to someone who deserved it...
Alessa said nothing. She knew that the cult had tried different ways. This was just another method of trying to restore what was once lost so long ago, to finally give Paradise to the people. She couldn't feel sorry for Walter.
"....perhaps," she muttered, rising from her seat. "Perhaps. Well, Walter, it's been fun, but I probably should be going. We'll have to do this again sometime," she said sarcastically, a fake smile on her lips.
"Alessa...?" Walter stared up at her when he saw her preparing to leave. "I do not expect you to forgive me for what I did. I understand your feelings, but I will make no apologies. And I don't care how you feel about me. However... I just want to make myself perfectly clear...
Henry killed me. He stole my power and usurped my rightful role as Conjurer. Then he came to kill me again... tell me, Alessa, what should I have done? Stood there and not raised a hand against him as he took my life for a second time? Is that what you would have done?"
Alessa froze. She could have forgiven Walter had Henry been respawned just like everyone else in the City who had died, but he didn't. He was dead, gone forever. She had spent a lifetime of pain and agony, cursed with the powers that she possessed. How would she had felt if someone had taken her powers away, honestly? Relieved? Vulnerable? She had no clue.
She paused, and slowly turned back to face him. "What I would have done? Let me tell you what I would have done. I would have welcomed death. What you say changes nothing."
She glared at him. "You killed Henry, the only human other than my own mother that I ever loved." She wanted to give him the middle finger, but she knew that wouldn't faze him. She couldn't very well attack him, so she would have to try a more...unique tactic. As quickly as she could manage, Alessa tore Henry's shirt open, exposing her bare body for Walter to see. "Goodbye, Walter," she hissed, spitting at the ground between his feet and whirled around to walk away, wrapping Henry's shirt back around her. Several hoots of amusement could be heard, and a couple of men (or women) threw Mardi Gras beads in her direction. She did not care, but continued walking, willing herself not to run or to cry.
Rating; R
Characters; Walter Sullivan [
holy_assumption] and Alessa Gillespie [alessalearnt]Summary; Alessa asks Walter to meet her at Cafe Juliet and an uneasy (and quite reluctant) alliance is established.
Log;
Walter was not entirely sure why Alessa had requested his presence for this 'date,' but the very least she could have done was arrive at a reasonable time. As it was, he had been sitting with his back to the wall at one of the outside tables at Cafe Juliet for nearly an hour by his reckoning. But he was patient and the throng of inebriated City-dwellers that had taken to the streets in a veritable orgy of bacchanalian revelry had provided him with all of the entertainment he needed at the present. There was nothing even remotely comparable to Mardi Gras in Silent Hill or Ashfield, and the very notion that the residents of an entire city would arbitrarily give in to the basest of carnal desires for a single night before engaging in an extended period of asceticism was fascinating... and more than a little disgusting.
Alessa hadn't intended to be late. In fact, she wanted to be there early. For all intents and purposes, Walter was her enemy, and she was determined to keep one step ahead of him. Unfortunately, the City seemed to have other ideas. The parade traversed throughout the center of the City, full of colors and float displays that were more than enough for Alessa's eyes, so used to the darkness. The crowd moved along easily enough, but whenever a woman would flash her bosom for the whole world to see, the crowd would stop abruptly and loud cheers could be heard, and the colorful Mardi Gras beads flew through the air to the open arms of the women.
She pushed her way through the crowd, the cafe in her sight now. It didn't take too long, but she finally made it. To her disappointment, Walter was there already, watching the people with a sort of amused boredom. She took a deep breath, using every ounce of willpower to contain the pure rage that was dying to explode from herself. If she wanted to, she could very well have started their confrontation here and now, but she knew they couldn't just fight. There was so much more than them, and they had to put their hatred aside for now. She approached the table in determination, her head held high. She was wearing one of Henry's shirts, the ring he had given her displayed proudly on her finger. "Walter." She said, stopping in front of the table and slowly taking a seat.
Walter looked up and scowled faintly. "Alessa." He replied, reflexively reaching for the pistol he had tucked away in one of the huge pockets on either side of his heavy Prussian blue overcoat, only to withdraw his unarmed hand when he saw her sit down. She wasn't going to make a move... not yet, anyway.
He gave her a cursory glance, noting the familiar pale blue shirt that he may have very well worn on the day he was 'cursed' to wear Henry's clothes. Apart from that minor detail, she was physically unremarkable. Oh, she was comely and finely shaped enough, but he had more... discerning tastes.
Alessa watched him carefully, and tensed up as she saw him reach for the weapon that she was pretty sure he had hidden away in his pocket, but relaxed once his hand retreated. His eyes lingered over her for a moment, and she could feel her anger stirring. She didn't want Henry's murderer looking at her like that.
"So. Here we are. I suppose you're wondering why I asked you to come here." She stated, picking up a menu and idly looking at the items that she wasn't even going to order. The partying continued, but it was as if there was only the two of them, enemies facing one another amongst the rambunctious crowd.
"I am curious, yes. Surely you would know that I am not in the habit of attending raucous parties wherein the populace as a whole collectively abandons any and all pretenses of sentient awareness."
He wasn't stupid. Although Alessa had made it clear that she had asked to meet him for non-confrontational purposes, Walter was not about to let her catch him unawares, which is why he came to the party armed. For safety measures, of course.
Alessa nodded. She didn't think Walter was stupid, oh no. To do so would only make her underestimate him, and she couldn't afford to do that. "We need to set some boundaries and guidelines. You and I both know that a confrontation is inevitable, but it isn't the time nor the place. I do not even know when that will be, but in the meantime..."
She set the menu down and looked him square in the eyes, her blue eyes stone cold. "I am proposing a truce of sorts. We both have our own agendas as far as God is concerned, and unfortunately, I now have no intention of stopping you due to your most...thoughtful gift.
...make no mistake that I will get revenge for Henry," she growled. "But for the better of our individual parties...I am not allowed to strike you until the Red God grants me permission." You should consider yourself lucky, she thought, wanting to add that last bit, but doing so would only provoke him, and a fight to the death didn't sound that appealing at the moment.
"Dear girl," Walter sighed. "You still do not, as they say, get it. Yes, we have our own agendas, but I helped you. Killing Henry served a multitude of purposes."
He paused, drinking in the sight of her barely concealed rage as if it were the sweetest ambrosia. "Long before you ever met him, I marked Henry as the Receiver of Wisdom. The Final Sign of the 21 Sacraments. I'm getting ahead of myself, but Vincent has told you that the 21 Sacraments as well as the Holy Woman sect's birthing ritual are both required for the resurrection of the Holy Mother, has he not?"
Alessa eyed him warily. Vincent hadn't told her this. She wasn't sure if she could trust what Walter was telling her; she would have to have a very long talk with Vincent as soon as she returned to the manor, that was for sure.
"No, he hasn't," Alessa admitted. "But if that is the case..." Her voice trailed off. She couldn't bring herself to thank him, not the man who had killed the only person who might have been able to give her a normal life. "At least we both understand each other, I am assuming," she finished.
"I did not want to believe it, myself," Walter began earnestly. "It contradicted everything I had been taught in my formative years, but... I completed the 21 Sacraments and still no Mother..." He trailed off, eyes downcast. "So apparently there must be some truth to Vincent's words."
Walter was admitting quasi-defeat and in front of a de facto enemy, no less. To think that his driving goal, his life's work would have been ultimately futile if not for the Holy Woman sect and their precious 'Mother of God.'
Which had been Alessa Gillespie. A woman that had not even wanted the role that had been bestowed upon her. Alessa... Claudia used to talk at length to him about her childhood friend, but Walter had never thought much of her. What was so fucking special about Alessa, anyway? If she had no interest in being the 'Mother of God,' then what good was she? That title belonged to someone who deserved it...
Alessa said nothing. She knew that the cult had tried different ways. This was just another method of trying to restore what was once lost so long ago, to finally give Paradise to the people. She couldn't feel sorry for Walter.
"....perhaps," she muttered, rising from her seat. "Perhaps. Well, Walter, it's been fun, but I probably should be going. We'll have to do this again sometime," she said sarcastically, a fake smile on her lips.
"Alessa...?" Walter stared up at her when he saw her preparing to leave. "I do not expect you to forgive me for what I did. I understand your feelings, but I will make no apologies. And I don't care how you feel about me. However... I just want to make myself perfectly clear...
Henry killed me. He stole my power and usurped my rightful role as Conjurer. Then he came to kill me again... tell me, Alessa, what should I have done? Stood there and not raised a hand against him as he took my life for a second time? Is that what you would have done?"
Alessa froze. She could have forgiven Walter had Henry been respawned just like everyone else in the City who had died, but he didn't. He was dead, gone forever. She had spent a lifetime of pain and agony, cursed with the powers that she possessed. How would she had felt if someone had taken her powers away, honestly? Relieved? Vulnerable? She had no clue.
She paused, and slowly turned back to face him. "What I would have done? Let me tell you what I would have done. I would have welcomed death. What you say changes nothing."
She glared at him. "You killed Henry, the only human other than my own mother that I ever loved." She wanted to give him the middle finger, but she knew that wouldn't faze him. She couldn't very well attack him, so she would have to try a more...unique tactic. As quickly as she could manage, Alessa tore Henry's shirt open, exposing her bare body for Walter to see. "Goodbye, Walter," she hissed, spitting at the ground between his feet and whirled around to walk away, wrapping Henry's shirt back around her. Several hoots of amusement could be heard, and a couple of men (or women) threw Mardi Gras beads in her direction. She did not care, but continued walking, willing herself not to run or to cry.