tampered | Log - ongoing

Current Mood: angst-emo-woe

Log - ongoing

When; Early today.
Rating; PG. PG-13.
Characters; Gyula Kádár (

gyula_kadar) & Fllay Allster (

emotional_fllay).
Summary; Fllay's out-emoing Tamaki after the nightmare day, Gyula invites her to stay so they could angst together?
Log;
“The ticking will stop if you’re with someone,” Lacus Clyne had informed her recently, relieving part of Fllay’s fears. She did not know how long she could stand the never-ending ticking echoing in her head.

She had listened to Lacus Clyne. She, Fllay Allster, had even asked her advise and yearned for her friendship. It was… pathetic. Since when had she craved company so much she had to seek those she had considered disgusting in life?

The ones she had tried to kill. The ones she…

She… had been mistaken about and hurt, one way or another.

Fllay buried her face on her hands in grief. She could not see them right now. She could not talk to them in person. What she could say? Would they forgive her idiocy and selfishness when she did not forgive herself?

Back then, when her comfortable, little world had been destroyed, Fllay had sought targets to blame for her pain. She chose the wrong ones, the ones that had their own worlds taken from them as wekk.

Their own fathers.

I’m sorry… I…

Swallowing hard, Fllay stared at the door of apartment number fourteen - Gyula Kádár’s residence – where she had been standing, suitcases on either side of her body, for a good hour. The corridor was empty and the lighting was too bright, almost blinding for her aching eyes.

What did she know about that man? She was nervous, really after what she had heard from that Cardinal. A terrorist who tried to destroy the world? Was that true? Fllay did not even know what a Methuselah was really, she thought was a Coordinator who needed blood but…

But… she was dead, it should not matter now. Her worst fear was to be alone and Gyula was kind enough to request her company. Fllay was eager to start to meet new people, to prove herself she could… live and be happy.

To build her world again.

After drying her eyes, Fllay Allster took a deep breath and knocked the door twice, calling with a shaking voice.

“M-Mister Kádár? Gyula? It’s Fllay.”

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Fllay shook her head. “It’s… it’s alright. We could dance one song then I’ll eat and sleep,” she pointed out, approaching Gyula. “I’ll take the dress off for eating. I don’t want to stain it by accident.” She paused when mentioned his eating habits. She was rather weary to ask about the subject but she needed to know. “Hmm, Gyula. Could you tell me more about your habits? I… I’m going to live with you for now and if you get sick or hurt, I want to know what I should do and what I shouldn’t.”

"If you insist," he nodded, turning the gramophone on. "As for my habits... my health is the last thing you need to worry about, since we - I am quite strong and not prone to... typical illnesses." He still didn't want to say things like 'I'm a Methuselah, we don't catch colds' out loud. "And even if something does happen to me, I'll recover by myself anyway." Well, actually, he couldn't defend himself against the Crusnik's power... but he decided to let that slide.

Fllay was an excellent dancer. He expected that from a 'spoiled rich girl', as she'd so critically described herself, but it still was a pleasant surprise. Gyula hadn't danced for a long while, mostly because his beloved waltz partner was no longer among the living... or was she?... but in any case, Fllay's talent turned out to be great.

"We'll probably eat different kinds of food most of the time," he continued. "I need special extracts - perhaps you've noticed those tablets on my table? - which I dissolve in drinks, but I can go without 'normal' products for a very long while." He paused, admiring the girl's large radiant eyes, her long dark lashes and pale skin. Gyula could no longer deny the shocking similarities between Fllay and a certain precious portrait... especially now that Fllay'd changed her hairstyle a little. He was tempted to wrap his arms tightly around her shoulders and press her to his chest, but rushing things would not be wise. They should discuss everything a bit later.

She will understand it, surely. She's... prepared, she's even heard about those theories before. Now she just needs to sort things out with Kira... and I will stay by her side. He smiled. Kira, whoever he was, did not bother him at all.

Fllay did her best to keep his movements. Her last dancing partner had been her ex-fiancée, Sai, and he was nowhere as agile or graceful as Gyula. She hesitated in the beginning, feeling intimidated to get close to anyone after her self-isolation during a long time.

Time without Kira.

However, by the middle of the song, Fllay gained more confidence and loose herself. Meanwhile, she was listening to what the Methuselah explained, half interested and half horrified. She could not help herself. Her father had been strict to indoctrinate her to follow the ways of nature and not be around the ‘modified’ freaks.

But I’m not one of them now? I died yet I’m still living, she reminded herself. Prejudice was not an easy foe to fight against but she would make the effort, not just for Kira but for her own sake.

“That’s…” Fllay caught her reply in case she said something careless. She would not ruin a friendship. “That sounds like Coordinators. They don’t get sick either. Kira… Kira took care of me when I was in bad shape,” she murmured wishfully, her smile faded a bit. “They don’t have a special diet, though,” she added quickly, in a more cheerful note.

The song ended and she did a curtsey as was expected, feeling silly for following such old rules. “You dance really well, Gyula! Almost as good as my father.” She fussed her clothes and hair, unsure what to ask him next. “I’ll change before eating. Thank you for all. I… I don’t know how long I’ll stay but I really… really appreciate you stand my company. I must be gloomy.”

She turned around and returned to the room where she had dressed previously in order to switch outfits once more.

[[OOC: LOL, poor Gyula. *pets him* But angst is good for all family]].

"Thank you." The vampire found her manners extremely pleasant: the behaviour of most girls in the City was far more... simple (in other words, not sophisticated at all). "And your company is the best thing that happened to me in this City."

He let out a small sigh as Fllay left the room. There was a sudden change in Gyula's plans, and he liked it. He liked it a lot. Now he just needed to learn a bit more about Kira - but Fllay was obviously going to explain everything herself, so he wouldn't even have to try too hard, and then -

Yes. She was clearly going to realize the truth very, very soon.

Fllay finished arranging the pink dress and tying up her hair once more. She left Gyula’s gift tucked neatly over the table and joined him again. “Where’s the kitchen?” she asked. “I can cook something.” While she wasn’t the best in that area, she had to learn while aboard with the Coordinators.

She paused, looking at the Methuselah who appeared so distracted about something. “Eh, Gyula, are you feeling well?” she asked.

[[OOC: Anytime you can. Huh, double post]].

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied. She wanted to cook something? Gyula wasn't quite sure of what to say about this, but then again, he wasn't sure about anything anymore. In his world, servants cooked and women Gyula was close with didn't, but he liked the mental image of Fllay in an apron (the problem was that he couldn't offer her one). Gyula suddenly felt like a confused boy - he, the great Marquis... or ex-Marquis. "Perhaps we should cook something together?" he suggested. "I'm not an expert in this area, but I don't want you to do it alone, and I'm fairly good at... cutting... things."

Gyula wanted to cook with her.

Fllay furrowed her brows at his offer. She thought he didn’t need to eat ‘normal’ food. She was mediocre in her culinary skills and was only going to prepare herself something simple; enough to satisfied her aching stomach and fatigued limbs. But to share her meal with Gyula? That would be really embarrassing!

“Erm. Uhm,” she considered, unsure how to reply to his generosity. “I’m not great either… But I’m hungry enough to not be picky about my food. I… I learnt that recently. I had people doing that for me. But maybe we could do something together and try to not set the kitchen on fire.”

[[OOC: Her player is even more useless in the kitchen. D: Ooh, check Fllay’s journal. She updated]].

The word 'fire' made Gyula twitch a little, but he decided that cooking could be a useful experience. He used to be a #1 terrorist at one stage of his life, so fiddling with human food couldn't possibly lead to a disaster. Besides, Fllay's company could make it all better. "I didn't have a chance to learn anything," he smiled weakly. "Will you teach me a little?"

Fllay looked uncomfortable at the request. “I… I’m not a good teacher. I’ll probably end up burning the food to crisp. Maybe we can do a salad or sandwiches?” It would probably be wise to hire someone to take care of the kitchen and the cleaning. “Anything would do.”

A salad sounded simple enough, and the Methuselah nodded.

...The kitchen was small but cozy and incredibly clean, like a surgical ward that had never been used. Gyula examined the vegetables nervously after washing them. The tomatoes were so... red. Like blood. He took a knife, gripping it like a sword, and tried cutting one of them. A drop of sweat rolled from his forehead. He experienced something similar during battles.

Being an aristocrate in exile was hard.

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That was the most excellent idea. In Gyula's world, servants existed to cook meals and do other things of that sort so that he didn't have to mess with them. "Yes," he agreed. "The problem is... When I woke up here, there was a small but decent amount of money in the desk. I still have some, but naturally, it won't last forever... and I've been thinking about it... I must find a stable financial source."

Fllay dried her hands and checked the fridge, taking out a bottle of orange juice. “Money isn’t a problem,” she informed Gyula. “I… exchanged something to that street seller, Dorian, to have access to my family’s bank account.”

"That is also possible here?" Gyula exclaimed. "Good news. But I still need to find my own resources, I... can't use your money all the time," he added. "I've lost all of my possessions in my world though... a bank account won't work." He chewed his sandwich thoughtfully. "You know, this is delicious," he smiled. "I might get used to normal food..."

“It is. But you have to give something in exchange: a memory that is important to you,” Fllay explained somberly. She had acted out desperation and sold the identity of her would-be assassin. Her features brightened at his praise and she took a bit of her sandwich. It was not high cuisine but in her hunger, she forgot her standards. “Kinda. I wish I could take some to Kira… I never cooked for him.” Nor she would ever will, she mused sorrowfully.

"An important memory..." Gyula murmured. "I don't have many different precious memories... and those that I do have, I am not quite ready to give away." He gave the girl a kind, innocently playful look (the Marquis had always had a kind of acting talent). "He'd love it. It's something a man cannot resist."

“She took away the memory of the one who killed me,” Fllay muttered, sipping a glass of juice. It made her feel better even if the sweet orange tasted so bitter. “I… I’m relieved I don’t know the identity, it would be tempting to change my fate.” She looked down, shaking her head. “How… How can I give that to Kira and pretend that everything will be alright? He doesn’t know… he doesn’t know I died and I died right in front his eyes. I… I’ll make him cry so much.”

Gyula shook his head. "You don't have to pretend, you - ah, how should I put it? Yes, he'll probably cry, that's natural, but... I doubt that the two of you will be happy if you keep avoiding each other or such topics." He sighed. "It's painful, yes, but I suppose we need to do some unpleasant things in order to... move forward, maybe?"

Fllay strangled a sob and put her face on her hands. She was shaking. She didn’t want to hurt Kira again, this time she wanted to make him happy but she wasn’t even good for that. “I… I don’t want to move forward!” she exclaimed, upset. “I’m dead, I can’t do that. I… I want Kira to be happy and live without sorrows. He… he deserves that.”

Gyula wrapped his arms around the girl's trembling shoulders. "I, too, am dead, Fllay," he whispered. "But... we are here, together. We can talk and think. Yes, supposedly we are not alive, but... we still don't know enough about this City's structure. Perhaps we've been given another chance." He touched her long hair gently. "Of course you want Kira to be happy, but maybe there is a way for both of you to enjoy your... existence?" He paused, enjoying the mild fragrance of her young body, an aroma that only a vampire could sense. "That's why we must learn more about the City."

Fllay sniffed and looked up, listening to Gyula’s words; her eyes were filled with tears but she found comfort in his words. She nodded lightly, relaxing at his soothing touch. “You’re… you’re right…” she replied. “I… I can wait until I talk to him. Then cry. Thank you, Gyula.” She smiled, grateful to be listened by someone.

"Or maybe you won't even have to cry once you talk to him," Gyula murmured. "Time will tell. Time will tell."

As Gyula battled to make the salad. Fllay was determinate to prepare two sandwiches. Hesitantly, the former rich, spoiled girl sliced the bread in two and stuff it with ham and cheese. She made two, one for her and another for Gyula.

“Say, Gyula…” trailed off Fllay, washing her hands and placing the sandwiches on a plate. “We should hire someone to take care of this.”

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