Topic: And snakes shed skin.

Carefully Tailored

Date: 2011-04-02 06:46 EST
Addison stood in the middle of Julian's suit slash office slash sleeping area slash meeting room slash display of quite, prominent, old power and clapped. A slow clap, the sort of thing that, when paired with the blond mans twisted half-smile became sarcasm born. The sharp strikes of palm to palm grated on Julian's nerves as he reached up to loosen his tie. A gesture few, if any, ever saw him do. Under the coffee hue of Julians skin, he looked pale. Pinched. Addison, too busy being Addison, missed this vital clue.

"We-heh-hell done, Boss. Wow. " Addison put his hands in his pocket. "Still got it I see. That was a great interview. Two now, in what—three months since you been here"

"Think you broke your record." "Addison, I am not in the mood. Some things simply must be done." "Sure, Boss. Sure."

Julian let his jacket fall to a chair. One of the men in charge of his clothing, or woman..or some one would be in to pick it up and carefully hang it later. Hands behind his back, the dark haired man in silk shirt crossed the room to hesitate by the wide, french doors that led to the balcony. The heavy draw of thick, unusual material was already drawn over the windows. Julian picked at the edge of one restlessly but did not move the fabric out of the way.

"I trust our guest is doing well?" He began. The inquiry to any other ear would have seemed so flat and dull. A polite but passing question pressed upon him, to be asked out of manners and necessity.

Addison however, straightened immediately. Julian could shed a skin like a snake. Trying to follow him these last few decades had become increasingly difficult, given their two vast differences.

"She"is," Addison replied with such caution as to bring to mind little children trying to sneak past sleeping parents. "She's been complaining about bed rest....Julianna brought her a meal yesterday and tells me that she looks better. Her color has returned."

"Has it," flatly, Julian echoed. He did not turn around to face Addison and at that moment' Addison was glad of it.

"Bring her to me." It wasn't a question, so Addison did not dare open his mouth to be flippant. In fact, the command seemed to wipe the grin off his face entirely.

"I'm sorry," he began quietly. "We've looked everywhere, we really have. You'd think it'd be easy here where no one cares?" "Bring her to me," Julian said lowly. The words were soft but bitten and chewed through the air. "Sir," was all the reply the blond man gave. Bowing stiffly from the waist. Addison did not stay a second longer.


Carefully Tailored

Date: 2011-05-05 13:59 EST
Jannette spent her days in rooms. One room blended into another room which, through this door or that door and every door equaled another room. Rooms with no windows or rooms with windows that might as well have no windows, you see, for they were always closed. Like his eyes. They were windows too, were they not' To the soul, yes. She'd heard that somewhere in some horrific poetry one of her friends...She couldn't remember who...once wrote. Something terrifically bad and wrought with clich' but that one stuck with her. Windows and eyes, pathways to souls. Surely he had one" Surely dark eyes were never that cold because they hated" He merely kept himself so aloof because he must, yes. He must. Janette knew, you see, because he kept her in rooms.

This room was not so bad as the last. This one was Victorian inspired and draped in bright whites, soft yellows and wallpapered with little flowers in bloom. Janette did so love the little flowers as they reminded her of spring and"it was spring. It was. She knew, because she'd taken a butter knife that the blond man with pony tail, such a silent, distant but handsome man—had forgotten to check her dinner tray one evening. She'd used it to pry apart the heavy curtains that had been sealed to her windows and she'd seen it. Oh yes, yes she had. Spring. It was beautiful.

He was beautiful, too. But he kept himself in winter.

She would have dearly loved to have seen what winter had been like in this place. Julian had told her all about it and she could not help but listen to him, enraptured with every word. He said things like 'another realm,' and 'nexus,' and it all sounded so terribly magical. She"

It is a distinct and loud click when Janette was listening for it. When she wasn't singing or humming or talking to herself or the television that ran strange commercials about Alpha colognes and fine red wines. The door was being unlocked. She felt her head spin dizzily, either from the door or the rush of scuttling out of the California king-sized bed covered in cream-silk sheets and rich comforter.

Addison's shuttered face swam before Janette, in his usual rumpled suit and looked upon her with guarded eyes.

"He would like to see you," crisply. "Oh. Oh. Oh." Her mismatched eyes widened and turned fever bright. Addison thought she looked like a little bird, her limbs and legs thin and long and he wondered if her bones were hollow enough to fly. He could see the tears of joy start along lower lids.

"Janette?" He began. "Oh, I know. He doesn't like it when I cry. But I'm just so happy to hear he wants to see me. I must get ready, washed, dressed..." Rumpled, she rolled out of the bed and clattered to the wardrobe he'd provided, every dress imaginable within.

"I think that he shouldn't be made to wait," the blond man began dubiously.

"I must! Please, let me have at least twenty minutes!"

Addison could hear the tainted notes of hysteria hover on the edges of her shivering voice. Ever since he'd found her...Ever since he brought her here...She'd just....She just wasn't the same.

"A'right," slowly. Addison didn't tell her that Julian didn't feel like waiting and that Julian wasn't particularly in a very good mood. He should have, really, but there was something in him that simply could not bring himself to crush the fragile hope lurking behind her eyes.

He left that task to Julian.

Carefully Tailored

Date: 2011-09-16 02:09 EST
Janette picked out the red dress on purpose. It was so fitting, so perfect, so so red and so fine. It shivered in the soft evening light as she walked along the hallway barely containing her giddiness. Julian. Julian. Julian wanted to see her. She was always so happy to see Julian and Addison was always so grumpy about it.

She didn't mind this new place. It was much, much better than Julian's old manse, which was dark at times and damp"cold and often dreary with the sense she was always being watched. Here, she was being watched still but the sense of eyes on her at all times" The sense that if she turned around a corner too quick or ran a little faster she would find someone skulking in the shadows".It didn't exist here. Not here, in this lovely little bed and breakfast.

She ran her fingers along the walls, polished brightly and decorated with warm Victorian romanticism. Flowers and lace and sunshine and maiden's blushes"that's what this place reminded her of, such and oddly fitting thing for Julian too. She hummed and half-sang like a little girl and skipped ahead.

The dress was the sort women caused riots in stores over"the sort women would tear each other apart to wear. Designed specifically for her in crimson, it fit her a little big now that she wasn't eating as much. But it fit enough to her waist to make her seem hourglass and tall, with a lavish hemline that flowered around her feet. It was as soft as a whisper too.

She'd enough time to sprinkle some powder in her hair, brush it out quickly until it flowed long and dark, wash herself quickly (for Julian often remarked how he preferred her to be clean) and now she felt as if she walked along the clouds.

"Here," Addison's hoarse voice, not at all smooth like Julian's, shattered some Janette's reverie. His hand on her arm was gentle, firm and warm. But it felt like sandpaper. They were hands that had worked hard. She didn't like them. They weren't smooth. Not like Julian's.

She wretched her arm away from him sharply and frowned up at him. Addison paid her about as much attention as he would a passing fly. He leaned passed her and opened the door.

Faintly, Janette could distantly smell Julian's distinct, handmade cologne. Notes of razor sharp citrus, with the softest hint of bergamot that reminded her almost of her grandmother's tea"Strangely at times, Janette thought she could almost smell flowers, but never truly pinpoint which kind. She didn't like to think about them however"the faint trace of those blooms"because for some reason they made her think of flowers on a grave.

Janette spun into the room as if she were entering the grandest of ball rooms. Julian carefully tailored and awaiting her at one end of his room could not look away.

Addison felt his stomach churn. She could never understand that look in Julian's eye wasn't happiness to see her.

It was hunger. Pure starvation.

Carefully Tailored

Date: 2011-10-21 11:59 EST
Humanity was a beast. Inside every man, woman and child lurked things that made nightmares seem the work of toddler's books. To struggle against this nature was the very essence of living; being alive. It made the mild mannered grocery bagger you'd known all of your life turn out to be the psychotic killer that snatched women and children, burying them in his back yard after gnawing on their bones. It made the fat kid in fourth grade you picked on ceaselessly for being fat turn into the CEO of a company that made millions of dollars, pouring that money into improving the lives of the homeless, seeking cures to cancer and helping the helpless. To be human was to struggle. The meaning of life itself was the journey of improvement.

What happened then, when life was taken away' What did you become without a heart beat'

Julian placed his hands behind his back as he watched Janette twirl about him, delighted. She chose red, and a part of his mind anguished if it was on purpose or not. A part of his mind wondered what sort of monster he was and what sort of damage he was doing to her.

The other part of him simply wanted to tear her to pieces and eat the rest.

"Julian," she practically sang. "Is this how you greet me after so long, love?" She touched his lapel, the golden cuffs of his suit. A shoulder. She moved about like a little hummingbird to bloom, though he knew he made the poorest of flowers, watching her from flat, black eyes.

"Beg pardon," he made himself say. Though even that was a struggle, for his tongue felt as lead and wanted nothing more than to taste. "It has been a trying few days, you understand," offered.

"You'll adjust," she hummed. Moving from him to flutter to his massive desk. Only Julian would have a hotel room cleared of all things comfortable, replacing it with an impressive, menacing desk.

"I will," he said absently. In his ears all he could hear was a heartbeat. All he could feel was the heat from her skin. He had little time and little control left.

"Janette," he said, and her name became a command became the water that soothed away all became power. Janette's head, bent over the desk arose sharply at the unspoken bidding in his voice. His edict, his voice washed over her as quick as a tide. All Janette would remember later, perhaps, were how dark his eyes had gone. And two red dots in a bad dream of far-away pain.

"Come," Julian requested. But that in itself was a lie. It was never a request. A need. A desire. A want. Julian extended his hand, palm up and awaited while all the life drained from Janette and she moved like wooden marionette to him. Fitting, he thought, as he closed his hand about hers and reeled her in.

_____________________________

Addison would never get used to the screaming. No matter how many years and no matter how he understood it, justified it, and tried to accept it—he'd never get used to the sound as it drifted into soft whimpering and then silence. But he knew the price, hadn't he, for all that he wanted. And he got it. So he ducked his head and lead the pale, trembling, empty-eyed Janette back to her room every time. Every time the two men refused to look at one another. It was for the best.

Wasn't it'