(take me to the limit) closed;Oliver

[Michkayela Drakonas]

I'M LOOKING AT YOU THROUGH THE GLASS

 { dont know how much time has passed }

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The shrill, adenoidal lyrics had long since begun to grate on her ears- words behind them doing nothing to make the voice itself any more agreeable. She’d dealt with demands she was neither required nor able to give on more than one occasion, frequently even, but the amount that was being expected for her to accomplish by the slip of a girl in front of her was begging her to reevaluate putting her status down as easily negotiable. Maybe it was the changes in power that had been so boldly underlined within the circles she thought she ran with, or the elevated bloodline she thought she’d gained through marriage, maybe even the mimosas she’d been not so gently ‘sipping’ since before Micha had even arrived- whatever it was Micha knew without tempered certainty that she didn’t like how it affected her. She’d been a nuisance to have to meet with before- like an annoying fly that one had to swat away one too many times from their meal. This, this was different though- like that fly had bathed in cocaine beforehand and somehow managed to make the landing on one’s arm actually painful. Like pinchers or claws… tiny fangs, had been attached. Although it could also be the fact that the bobby pins she’d so painstakingly used to twist her hair up into the twist it was currently in. A twist that wasn’t helping with her head pains any. Also one that she couldn’t go about trying to soothe with her fingertips without drawing notice to the fact that she was having them- though her fingers had strayed nearer her temple region one too many times already. That would be the last time that she forgot to watch the clock while playing video games with Roberto. This would also be the last time she made that promise to herself as well… at least if she remembered it the next time the controller was in her hands. Her fingertips smoothed the napkin in her lap down, smiling benignly at the mass of what was supposedly, she was assuming, meant to be a calculated ‘mess’ of bleached strands. Unfortunately it just came out as sloppy, too many half curls and frizzed ends and not enough calculation. It wasn’t a look she found all that enticing on its own in any case. Especially not atop the pinched features beneath it. “Of course.” The first time she’d been able to get a word in edgewise- a simple agreement to stem the flood of bargaining chips she knew would follow the umpteenth request she’d made this meeting. Again fazing the word flow into a corner piece of her consciousness as she staved off the urge to glance at the clock hanging to the far left of their table. A muggle establishment. Safer, with a much smaller chance of anyone around recognizing them. Not that it would be untoward for them to be seen with one another- even them meeting in this neighborhood could be fashioned down to chance. Micha had made extremely sure that that was the case.

Errands that drew her close enough to the area so as to not be questionable.

Were she to be stopped and have her person checked there were sure to be items that would change that state though, especially those that she’d acquired since sitting down at this table. Items that she was required to deliver within a certain time frame, one that was quickly running out the longer that she stayed sitting here with the woman she’d received the initial acquisition from. “So that’s a yes then? How wonderful. Archie was so sure that I couldn’t get this kind of money for it, especially the marriage contract on top of it!” Because ‘Archie’ wasn’t aware of the worth that the ‘heirlooms’ he’d been holding onto, but she wasn’t about to go be the one to inform his newest acquisition of that. “Of course it’s a yes!” False cheer layering every word so convincingly she could almost buy into it herself. “You could think of it as a sort of goodwill advancement on the part of my family,” a conspiratorial tilt of her head accompanying her words- blatantly ignoring the high-pitched giggle that came from the girl after her words. “He also,” her torso tilting forward with a feigned twinkle to her blue eyes, “underestimates the bonding of women.” Hand strategically lifting her glass of wine in salute as the other girl did the same, china clinking amid amused laughter- one real and one fake, though the falsity was indiscernible. “Isn’t that the truth! He should let me do his dealings more often!” Yes, Micha was inclined to agree, he should- though certainly not for the reasons she felt. Her chin tilted, well-timed surprise alighting her features as she ‘caught sight’ of the clock. “Oh Merlin! I was having so much fun I completely lost track of time.” Inject the regret, although she was so far the contrary. “I have other meetings,” her lips turning down into a frown as she removed the unstained cloth from her legs- smoothing her skirt down as she stood to noises of disapproval and scraping. “Oh no darling don’t get up, don’t bother- I’ll just be dashing out the door.” As quickly as her heels could carry her to the exit, her form stooping again to both pull her purse up from the floor and place her lips to the side of the other woman’s face. “Oh, party pooper! You’ll have to meet me for drinks when you aren’t busy!” Not unless her husband was hiding any other artifacts necessary for her to acquire- although the pending nuptials that would need to be discussed would certainly require some sort of interaction she was sure. “We will, I’ll owl you soon.” Her form already straightening as she stepped back- smile flitting over her lips before she turned, sure the other girl had already gone back to ogling the men sitting on the outside veranda. Not her wife, not her problem.

Although it would certainly make things more difficult as they moved on should the woman’s indiscretions become news that travelled the wrong circuit. Five. Four. Three. Two…. One. Yes, there it was- the overly-girlish giggle behind her as she made it to the wide, double doors that served as her exit- barely casting her eyes around as she turned into the empty alleyway- her form disappearing as soon as she was hidden from the public’s eye with a soft crack… her form doing the same on the edge Alzubra Alley, eyes moving over the familiar sign of the Dragon’s Claw. Done. Escaped. She’d managed to make her way away from the meeting she’d hoped she wouldn’t have had to have in the first place. Forty six seconds to spare. Her hands were already moving down to the large shoulder bag hanging off of her frame, pulling the much smaller purse out of it and counting down in her head as she shrugged out of the thick straps, cardigan slipping slightly as a breeze ruffled past her, larger bag disappearing from her grip as she turned the corner, small purse tucking up under her arm so she could free her hands once more. As free as they could be seeing that her fingers were roaming through her updo, removing the bobby pins from their place with as much quick efficiency as she could manage while still moving- ignoring the passing glances such a move garnered. Attention was not something she needed, but seeing that her business was completed for the day, there was no way she was willing to put up with the persistent discomfort the little metal pieces provided her all for the sake of a hair style. Well into the afternoon and she was already looking forward to going home and curling up on her couch with a large mug of coffee and her crosswords. Chances were Sebastian would be working late, he couldn’t have arrived back in the country until late this morning at the earliest and she was sure he’d have business to conduct upon arriving… the last of the pins fell into her cupped palm- flaring briefly before they disappeared her fingers working over her scalp once more to allow the tresses to fall more naturally before she dropped them entirely, the tips of her heels leading her to more familiar ground- eyes centered on the coffee stand in front of the library- her steps becoming lighter the closer she came to it, sliding into the line and coming to a halt. From time dragging to passing at the entirely opposite rate- her day seemed centered on contradictions, only some of which seemed to be present as she moved forward in the que, eyes moving over those passing. Wizards in their robes and those in every day clothing- those with graying hair and even those with which advanced age seemed to have settled into with bespoken familiarity. And then those that… “Oliver?” The question left her lips before she could pull it back in- the form that turned back to her making her lips curl just slightly. Yes, Oliver, though it had been some time since she’d last seen him- his features were still roughly the same… although his eyes… her own widened fractionally before nodding slightly, waiting for his form to come closer. “Death seems to suit you,” pitched low enough for only the pair of them to hear it as the line moved forward, her feet following a step behind the rest.

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TAG Oliver

WORDS 1598

GRAPHICS link

CREDIT Liza from CAUTION and OVERDRIVE

MUSIC ()

NOTES I'm sorry babes, <3

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[Oliver Dorner]

there's something wrong with me chemically---
in the wrong genes.

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Oliver had a tendency to vapidly pass by any and all thoughts on his upbringing, unless he had no choice but recognize it when placed squarely in front of his face, like someone shoving his eyeballs into a newspaper and forcing him to read. Those moments were a regularity when he was underage, as if he could avoid it when he lived in his parent’s home or attended a school with an irregularly high amount of pureblood children. It had felt like such a burden to him almost, to be as privileged as he was. It sounds like something a childish and immature person would complain about, to have everything at your fingertips. But then, we all have to complain about something, don’t we? Even the luckiest of us. And, even with the motivated older sister he had, who constantly absorbed the limelight in the family, his parents had some expectations of him. As traumatic and unfair as it was to Oliver, to have been turned into a vampire against his will, it brought not only stress but also relief in a different way. He was still obliged to live and conform to his society’s standards, and hardly anyone knew that he was, well, what he was because few bothered to look random individuals up on the Ministry’s open creature registry. But regardless of this, he noticed a very distinct drop of interest from his family into his behavior and his whereabouts, a result of his no longer truly qualifying as a pureblood, as one of them. With just a bite, someone had effectively shut him out of his family legacy. It was a wonder to him, then, why his family cared so much about him dating Bridgette Oliwer, a girl so detestable that even Oliver cringed when she was in his line of sight.

He didn’t have to worry about any of that today, and it was refreshing, because Oliver wasn’t very talented at worrying. He usually put in a good effort, but it tended to slip his mind and he got distracted by someone who smelled nice or walking by a daisy growing between the pavement cracks – that sort of thing. As of right now, Oli was easily distracted by the people milling about the coffee stand, waiting for their daily fixes. He knew what it was like, now, trying to get that fix. And coffee was fine really, if he wanted it for the novelty but compared to blood, it almost tasted like dirt these days. Premium, high priced dirt. Dirty dressed up with a pretty bow of whipped cream and the occasional peppermint stick. Ah, grass. Dirt with a blade of grass on top. Oliver sighed, having stopped on the sidewalk momentarily to watch the scene. He assumed that basic human food got tastier the older the vampire, but he didn’t know a lot because Oliver only knew one vampire himself, and that particular bloodsucker he’d had sent to prison. He was on his own, really. It was a an amazing feat that Oliver hadn’t gone on a murderous rampage yet, given that he had little support except for the informational pamphlets the Ministry had provided him: “Your Friendly Neighborhood Vampire – How to make the transformation from wizard to beast”, “Ministry Rules and Regulations on Vampire Feedings”, “Does O – Really Taste Better?”, and “Dead: Making the Best of Your Miserable Existence”. He had to admit, he particularly liked the inference that he was a beast now. The Theory of Evolution had now come full-circle.

After a few minutes, Oliver gathered that he should start moving before others noticed the creepy young man watching everyone with hawk eyes. He wouldn’t bother waiting in the line today, even if buying coffee usually allowed him to have a fabricated human moment that he needed every once in a while. It had been one year since much of his life had changed, and for a vampire, that was very, very new. He was a baby, and now thanks to that special little someone, he would have a baby face for the rest of eternity as well. He would forever be little Oli. He turned to go, continuing down the sidewalk with slow, smooth steps, almost as though the twenty-one year old was gliding across the pavement instead of walking on it. “Oliver?” He still had difficulties picking a distinctive voice out of the loud noises of all the others, but the voice was familiar and close to his side. Oliver stopped and turned to look for the source. There, standing near the back of the line was Michkayela Drakonas, waiting for what may have been her ritual cup of coffee as well. Oliver smiled instinctively, though it wasn’t something he did often. It had been quite some time seen either one of them had visited with the other. They were friends, went to school together, but they were incredibly busy with their own lives and work these days. Oli had almost an entirely new crowd of friends, but Michkayela was one of those special people he wouldn’t have minded knowing forever. He quickly crossed the distance that separated and stood at her side, his smile turning into a slightly worried frown when she expressed her view that death suited him. Oliver reached up to touch just underneath one eye before they flitted around to take in the strangers of the sidewalk. Apparently no one had noticed what Michkayela had, and even those standing closest to them were absorbed in their own world.

“I forgot to put them in again, didn’t I,” he mused quietly to himself before shrugging. He had blue colored contacts, as close to his original hue as possible, that he almost always wore. It was not just a requirement for his modeling group, but something that he had taken to, in order to hide his vampirism as much as possible. People didn’t like vampires, if you didn’t know, and while much wizards and witches hadn’t paid enough attention in their classes to remember the signs of it, there were enough that having red eyes became suspect. It’s no wonder Oliver had felt more comfortable today than usual. “They itch,” he added, as a way of explanation, as if Michkaeyla needed to know the reason for his slip up; as if she would actually care about it. His eyes seemed to know that contacts, and ones without a prescription, were particularly unnecessary and they constantly worked to rid themselves of the foreign object by watering, itching, scratching, and anything else they could think of to drive Oliver batty. He took a deep breath and lowered his head, behaving as inconspicuously as possible as he moved forward with Michkayela in the line. Apparently he was going to get coffee today, after all. “It’s nice to see you again; alive, and with a pulse.” Look at that, Oliver nearly made a joke. Someone started screaming at another person two blocks north about their boyfriend’s bastard cheating ways, before smashing what sounded like a crystal vase onto the sidewalk. Oliver did his best to ignore it. Vampirism made him the best, unintentional eavesdropper he knew.

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tag : michkayela durr

words : 1195

notes
outfit : click here