Slave for grabs (Lady Thorn’s whatever character.)

[Lady Thorn]

(Perhaps...)

Shaking his head again at the strangeness of the silent man, Fabian shrugged his shirt off and slipped into his own room, not bothering to turn on the lights as he searched for something, anything, clean to wear. He was a little worried at the results. Only one clean shirt, and no entirely unblemished trousers. Pathetic. Picking the least soiled, he braved the mirror to see what the damage was to his face. Swift application of a hairbrush and several creams salved his vanity and he sighed, relaxing properly. If he looked even half as good as he could manage, the world was all ok, bizarre mutes and missed appointments or otherwise. He'd always had an astonishing ego.
In the gloom, he cast his eyes around his room, and cringed at the mess. That needed sorting too. Gods he'd been a mess these past few weeks. A grown man, or vampire, ought to be ashamed that he couldn't manage without someone in his employ to sort him out, but shame was something that happened to other people.
Emerging from his room, he blinked at the burst of the hall lights and shaded his eyes for a moment, letting his night vision fade. Blasted thing.
"You ok to go out again?" He asked Erik. He'd been rather suddenly imbued with a great deal of energy now. He felt awake and ready to go out there... and... well, he didn't know what, but whatever it was, he wanted to go out there and do it. His metabolism must have worked its way through the last of the alcohol... finally. Maybe he could manage a few shots now.
He wondered vaguely if Erik drank. Probably not, he decided, though on what grounds, he was unsure.

[mscrow]

(Nice. I'm open.)

Erik closed the door to his room, amazed at the idea of privacy around a vampire. He opened the door, closed it, opened it, closed it. He did this for a little bit. It fascinated him! Well, for a while. Until his stomach gave a great protest. He knew that thing Fabian had given him was horrible. Knew it would hurt him. Closing the door he leaned on the wall and put a hand to his thin midriff. Grinding his white teeth he made his way to the bathroom, the beauty and the darkness ignored as he removed the food from his insides, a horrid taste following it. He had seen humans doing this many times in the night, the water-filled porcelain vessel offering support to the weak-kneed.

And with that, he felt a lot better. Panting slightly he stood, flicked on the lights, squinted in the sudden brightness, and was startled by a face. Who was that person? Blinking at it, he reached out and touched it, finding that the person did the same… and glass. A mirror. So, what was this? That was him? The big nose, the white skin, the thin face. Shaking his head he turned on the water and splashed it on his face, in his hair, drinking a bit of the cool liquid. Which reminded him of how hungry he was. He’s grab something later, maybe in the morning. But he looked a bit better.

Pressing the lever on the toilet he turned off the light, preferring the dark, and moved to the room. In the dim light from the window through the curtains he found a large bed, which he instantly fell on. Big, soft, wonderful. Warm. But there was a master to take care of. Getting up he took off the jacket, shaking it out and tugging a bit, doing the same with the pants. Ugh, he wanted out of these. Fine, he’d leave the jacket. His light blue shirt and tan pants in place, he tossed the jacket away, glad to be out of it. One less. His master was calling. Exiting, he smiled and nodded. Lead wherever!

[Lady Thorn]

Somehow, the lack of speech no longer disconcerted him. Strange, since normally he pulled around him only people who were bright and loud and incessant, even as servants. He just... liked that kind of people. But the silence was a blessed relief, and he wondered if perhaps this might have been a very good move indeed.
But he banished such thoughts. Too much use of his brain was a bad thing indeed... it made him restless. Much better to live on his impulses and go... and do... as loudly and mindlessly as possible. That was the way. Let someone else pick up the mess after him. Preferably while his mind was silenced with vast quantities of alcohol.
So he did go... well, downstairs. His coat was waiting for him, thick and warm and absolutely pointless for someone who barely felt temperature. But it made people feel secure... they got so disconcerted about a man in his shirt-sleeves on a cold night.
The door clunked shut behind him as he stepped back into the moonlight. He almost glowed with it now, awake and happy and blissfully buoyed up on his ego and vanity. Time to do some shopping!
Only one problem...
"Do you know where there are any shops?" he asked Erik, more than a little sheepish. Sheep with fangs... a disconcerting contrast. "I haven't really been here for the buying fun..." Bars, he could find with his eyes closed, loose women (or men), ditto. Shops? Well... um. He hadn't been here long enough for it to be an issue. "Do you know your way around?" There was a decent hint of embarrassment in his voice. He didn't like to let on at his own failings. The ego again.
But needs must. One could get away with it in front of servants, he supposed...

(Apologies for the suckiness... the brain did not like being coerced into work)

[mscrow]

Following Fabian at a trot Erik stuck his hands in his pockets and enjoyed the night and what it had to offer. Looking up at the few starts that allowed themselves to fight the streetlights; he couldn’t help but grin at them. He had a reason again, though the idea of so much freedom confused him greatly. He’d figure it out in time; he probably wouldn’t be affected by it too hugely. He would probably have pretty much the same schedule as his master, unless there were things he needed to do. Which could very likely happen.

But there was one problem, one that Fabian just brought up. He had no idea where anything was. No, take that back, he knew where some things were. Well, kind of. He knew where enough things were to get around for the last eight years. Not that he knew that.

What kind Master? He wrote, holding it up and watching. There were a lot of shops. Shops for food, for tools, for beds, for shoes… all a matter of taste.

[Lady Thorn]

(Your signature is distractingly attractive...)

Fabian shrugged. "Clothing shops, for a start." In a city as big as this, he mused, surely some would stay open after dark. In London, he knew, on could find things at any hour of the night, if one knew where to look. And in Paris, and Rome, and Budapest and... there were many. He knew them all so well, too. But this was all part of the fun. To be lost and adrift was more exciting than to follow a mundane bath well-trodden, and Fabian ran on excitement. He supposed, though, if the search proved in vain, that there were plenty of bars still open and perfect for him.
It never occurred to him that perhaps more bars was a bad idea. Other people had always done that for him, in the past.
But another trailing length of thought staggered into his brain, wriggling past a niggling desire for alcohol and unattached and good-looking humans.
"How come you are unable to speak?" he asked Erik softly, less brash than was his normal want. He was aware enough of the feelings of others to know when he might be brushing on an unhappy or touchy subject. "Were you in an accident, or were you born that way, or...?" He let the question trail off, his curiosity piqued and hungry for knowledge. A strange trait in someone so... impulsively mindless.
"And can I ask about your previous master or mistress?" He perched nimbly on the fence around the house in which he stayed, his legs dangling in a childish manner as he fidgeted incessantly. Never stillness and quiescence for Fabian. Never calm. Always had to be doing, going, living in the light of others' desire.

[mscrow]

(Thank you)

So he wanted to have stores for clothes? Erik looked down at the wrinkled attire of his master and himself, and could kind of see why. New York was a city that never slept; a hovel hole for vampires and weres alike. Yes, there should be something open at this time. Wiping his board clean he thought about what was around, what streets were open and such like. Not much came to mind, but he did know that the stores in the subway stations and the air port were open. Almost always were. As he was writing Fabian asked him a question, voice low and quiet. Why couldn’t he talk? It was a good question, one that his master deserved to know. He paused though, unsure as to how to answer that. It helped when he asked about his queen. That would explain.

I know in the areas where the traveling humans spend a lot of time in, stores are open. Meaning, of course, tourists. No, I wasn’t born like this. My mistresses, my queen. I spoke out of turn.

Touching the flat scar across his neck, he remembered her long nails and felt a shudder run down his spine. It was his fault, he knew it. Didn’t mean he hadn’t been afraid.

[Lady Thorn]

(It is... it's making me want to watch The Pianist again, certainly...)

Fabian was frowning now, letting dark creases mar his pale complexion as he sat on the railings, both perplexed and disgusted. Someone would do that to a servant for speaking out of turn? That was... he was thinking of how despicable and dreadful and unthinkable a thing that was to do when his mind wandered back to his sister. Not so unthinkable then. She'd have probably approved, he thought, from what he remembered of her treatment of family servants. She'd always been far too dismissive of the rights of humanity. Or anything that wasn't a born vampire, to be brutally honest.
He sighed, aware that any comments about the injury would do absolutely nothing for Erik now. Useless. Why did he have to belong to a species who took casual cruelty and supremacy as its right? He almost wished he'd been born human sometimes.
Turning back to present situations, he realised Erik was on to something with that. Tourist areas were always the ones where shops stayed open funny hours. Right now in England, he knew, it was heading towards early morning, and in Europe day might already have spread its wings, so there could be some luck in trying hotel-y districts...
Which, once more, he had no idea where to find.
"Capital idea! Go on then, lead the way," he tried to inject some energy into the suddenly flat atmosphere. He was doing his utmost to pretend he hadn't seen the shudder too. Awful though he was at giving comfort, and he truly was awful, he still wanted to give it whenever he saw someone in pain or upset or just not happy. He supposed he just wasn't the norm for his species and he should just ignore it.
He couldn't help, however, placing a comforting hand on Erik's shoulder after he had alighted from his perch.
"I hope you know where you're going, because I certainly don't." There was another grin accompanying that, and the hand slipped away, back into the vampire's pocket. If one knew him well, though few did, from his deliberately cheerful look and forced humour, and from his slouching posture and quixotic face, one might come to the conclusion that he was thinking very hard indeed. And one might be surprised at that, since anyone who knew him that well would also know that, except in certain circumstances and instances, he didn't very much like thinking at all.

[mscrow]

Erik nodded, glad that was over. He wasn’t proud of it, though maybe for different reasons than people thought. His Queen had been angry at him, and for that he was not proud. He had failed; she had let him know that. But it was in the past, time to move on and try to make his life mean something again. He was going to watch after Fabian, be a good servant, do as he was told. And right now his master was telling him to lead to the bright areas, the places that humans flocked and attacked with fervor. Sure, no problem. Cleaning off the board as he started to walk, he stuffed it in the back of his pants again and headed to where he knew the drink place to be.

His smoothy. He had scrounged for the little pieces of paper and coins to get enough to get one of the pink smoothy things; strawberry banana. He loved the fountain when it had these flavors, and to see that the world outside had it to amazed him to no end. If he went there, then he would find other shops that would be open also. Surely they could find something.

[Lady Thorn]

Trying to kick his brain out of gear, Fabian followed. He had no interest, really, in looking at the city as they walked. By his age, cities were all pretty much the same. Streets, houses, shops... what did he care? No, it was the people that interested him more, people and libraries. And bars. So his eyes were on the street as he walked... well, mostly the street. He couldn't help but cast a few appraising glances at the figure of his new employee as he walked. He arched one eyebrow with interest before casting his gaze back to the concrete and resuming the dull plod of thought. The only change was a slight smile on his lips, though that disappeared quickly enough as he wandered back deeper into the shadowy realms of cogitation.
Soon enough, lights and people and other such marvellous things became more frequent. A little bit of bustle and warmth surrounded them as they walked, and it made the old vampire feel a little better in himself. People were fun.
"Wonderful," he clapped his hands like a magician about to pull a rabbit from his hat, and grinned his insane smile. "Thanks a-plenty."
Now... where to go first. He had no idea. His attention was momentarily distracted by a woman in red, who curled her lips and scurried away before he had a chance to even leer. Pah. He really needed to clean himself up properly, if that was going to be the case.
"Come on then," he said, managing to bring himself bouncing back, "and what size are you?"
His feet were already leading him into the nearest shop.

[mscrow]

Erik followed, wishing he knew what Fabian was looking at. Something red, a girl. Why was he looking at her? Did she have something on her face? Poor thing, someone should tell her so that she can wipe it off. But she was long gone now, so it was someone else’s matter. Fabian seemed pleased that Erik knew where people were. He’d been here a while, he learned some things. At least he was helpful, that was the whole point.

Size?

However, he didn’t learn everything. A lot escaped him. Maybe too much. Sad to think that someone who liked to read and write had no idea what to do in the world outside. Following to a near-by store Erik found a few people looking at him funny with his board and rumpled clothes. He had no idea why, but he knew they were looking at him funny. Maybe it was because he was taller than most of them. Though, really, he wasn’t all that tall. Five seven, there were taller. There were shorter too. He watched them, confused, until a few went away. Then he noticed that his master had gone in. Running to catch up he hoped Fabian hadn’t noticed too much.