Post by Josephine on Jan 21, 2009 17:14:10 GMT -7
Majica's Playground
The sand scrunched beneath her toes, pressing the grainy substance further against bared feet. Her skirt tickled, teased along her bared legs as the soft breeze caught the light material. Lashes lowered in thought. It wasn't here they had met, but it was here that he had last held her and whispered soft words of affection.
A small hand clutched tighter about the neck of the wine bottle, not yet cracking it. Material danced as her wedding dress tugged at her arm. A grim expression rested over her features. It was only fitting that she purge him from her mind here in this place. After all did he not come here for solace and to ease his conscience about the wrongs he committed?
A few more steps before she plopped onto the hard vinyl seat of the swing set. The dress dangled between her hands swaying and fluttering as each foot kicked to set her perch gently rocking. He was no longer hers to cherish or covet. He had willingly left her, without a word or backward glance. Without a thought for a woman who had given herself to him for near a year.
Tears fell as she pulled up the memory of him; of when she first met him. His eyes struck her first, ancient and yet holding some semblance of juvenile mirth. Lips had curved into a sardonic smile as she looked up at him through lowered lashes. His laughter light, teasing as she confessed of her ticklish feet. A piece o the wedding dress fell, ripped from the whole.
"You were such a gentleman, teasing me then to soothe my nervousness..." Her voice barely reached above a thready whisper. His marriage to enslaved was just ending at that point; two days later they were severed and she was taking eternal sleep. Sympathy had wormed into her heart for the man so wounded. Now she understood the motive for enslaved to rest; to turn her face away from moonlight and time.
She sighed softly, leaning her head to the chain of the swing. Through tear blurred vision the moon seemed to shimmer eerily. One hand reached down, questing for the bottle of wine. The cork pulled she placed the rim to her mouth swallowing a hasty mouthful. Warmth spread through her belly soothing ragged emotions further.
Again another memory came. Standing alone with him. They were nestled in the ghettos; his courting of her gone nearly a month. Teasing and gentle he had coaxed her forward into trusting him and baring her fears and worries.
Now they stood there; his clothing barely remembered, but more his expression. Lips curved into a caring smile as one hand cupped the side of her neck.
The words exchanged a bare mummer until she felt cool metal slide down her throat to nestle in the hollow between her breasts. A locket strung on a length of black ribbon. One hand had lifted to touch the gift while she looked upon this man before her.
"You didn't need to do this. I was happy with your arms around me..." She whispered, breathing softly. No 'love yous' had been exchanged, no simpering notes of affection beyond the playful 'lust you' that he had adopted. Confused she had met those gray eyes, watching as his mouth descended upon hers, touching ever so lightly.
"I believe in spoiling my loved ones.." He had uttered, breaking that last barrier between them, taking his place in her heart and she had surrendered fully. Left nothing between them as a barrier to protect her.
Josephine pulled away from the memory with a half choked sob. He had lied then, that night she had asked him to take her to his bed. Lied about loving her even as he held her in his arms. You did not love one and abandon them like this, treat them as he had her. Another piece of the wedding dress was torn, tossed to the sand beneath her feet. Another purging of emotion and memory.
Lashes pressed closed as she conjured further remembering their first marriage. Hastily done as she defied her family. Seth, Dru, Emmie and Abagail; all had stood around her demanding she revoke her pledge to Oblivion, say no to his offer of marriage. She had defied them; told them she would chose no other.
She knelt there trembling. The floor beneath her hands cool, almost clammy as they stared down at her. Traitor they labeled her; lying and cold hearted. The family elders called for punishment; sought retribution for an action thus taken out of stride. She knew she had broke their rules and so accepted such.
"Punish me then...I will accept your judgment" She had spoken, knowing that holy water would fall and she would sleep. Oblivion would be there waiting when she woke. No, that was not the punishment she was to hold. It was Abagail who came forward staring down at her beloved childe, her second in command and dearest in heart.
The words had chilled her. Return the locket and ring to Oblivion, renounce his claim on her both to the family and to the city. She would accept their choice in a partner and be thankful for it. The wound fell to her heart as she knelt there; left alone long enough to text her lover and set a plan in motion.
She had fled, just long enough to marry him. Her hands had shook as she stood next to him dry eyed. "I love you" He had whispered. His hair in utter chaos and clothing rumpled. His touch was tender, stroking along the line of her cheek as he dashed away any tears she might have held. In his eyes was the knowledge of what she was giving to be with him; what would fall upon her and what she had decided.
"I died that night...died in the heart of a sire who loved me completely. For you I walked away from home and all that I knew. Such a liar you are, a silken sorcerer to weave such words. I was a fool." The bottle was drawn from again, attempting to ease the agony in her heart. Who had he bedded after her? Always she had suspected Soledad high on his list for the time he had spent with her. Now who? The slattern he had won in the auctions? Did he even wait for the ink to dry on the divorce papers before wooing her replacement with the same silken promises?
Again she tore at the dress, watching the blood red sash fall to the snowy heap beneath her. Each memory, each turning point of her life being purged and washed away. Josephine needed to heal from this, to no longer feel that searing agony that only anger could keep at bay. One foot, bared of her usual ballet shoe pinned the fabric strips in place. One hand pressed the whole of the dress to her lap as her free left hand swirled the bottle experimentally. Half gone, yet barely enough to even partially distance her pain.
Weeks had passed and Josephine finally pulled out of the fog that came from severing her creator. Her footing slowly found as Oblivion coaxed her; sought to guide her as a Master Vampire. It was Acer who had first pointed out that part of her emotional turmoil stemmed from the fact that she was maternally inclined. How Josephine could never figure out; she was undead, barely hunted but for to feed from her mate.
Oblivion had smiled, his eyes bright as his hand pressed over her belly, skimming faintly over a scar only he and her creator had seen. Joy had made his features radiant, alight with love as he discovered she was going to give him the one thing in his unlife he lacked. Arms clutched her close. Labeling her "My Josephine" as mouth pressed to her soft hair.
The smell of him enfolded her. Musky and spicy; it held that faint masculine scent touched with something exotic and heady. Intoxicating; she had felt safe and completely cherished in those arms. Beloved wife; she had finally found her place and her worth.
Again fabric tore as she dropped that piece of him. Her eyes narrowing as she stared at the bit of material. Breath caught as she shook her head slightly. "I could have forgiven you my pain...daughter of your body she may be, but you will never know her. Oblivion was her father and that man I married is long since dead." Again she shifted pinning the piece with her foot. Most of the bodice was shredded hanging in limp tatters as memories filtered through her mind.
"Josephine" His voice called, frantic and strained. She had looked up from her book then, setting it aside as she rose. One hand pressed to her dress, settling it before her husband entered. They had argued days earlier and she felt horrible for it. Lips parted to apologize before his strong arms swept around her.
One hand cupped under her chin as her gaze was forced to meet his. Grey eyes shimmered with worry and earnest fervor. His brows creased as he studied her bewildered features. The one arm hooked around her waist drug her closer, holding her to him.
"I didn't do it" It was all he stated and enough to boggle her mind. Didn't do what? Yes she got several calls or texts a day informing her that her husband was an asshole; no new news there. Her lips pursed slightly before she spoke.
"Do what?" The stunned relief on his features amazed her and told her the gravity of the situation. Gently she wrapped her arms around his neck as his head bowed to nuzzle tenderly at her shoulder. His hand swept down to her waist, stroking lightly along her back as if to soothe her.
"Hadn't slept with Coquette...of course I should have placed it more on her faith to her husband..." She again tore the dress wondering how many times she had been played the fool. How many times had he wandered from her bed leaving her empty and alone to stalk some other female for his games? Her pile increased and the amount left in her wine bottle grew smaller.
Julian's singed features came into view. Her beloved childe screaming in pain as she reached for him. "What is wrong? What has happened?" The sudden chill in her heart as Julian, her dearest one told her that Oblivion had struck him. Had attacked him for words spoken in her defense.
Josephine had gone to her husband only to find him cold to her. His eyes gone cold and hard. She should have known then what she was. Her loving mate staring upon his gravid wife with no remorse or sorrows. Six months of marriage and he attacked her childe. Steadfast she had soothed as many as she could while trying to end the attacks.
Rose and Brutus had come to her, offering their concerns. She had waved away their offer of assistance. Internal family matter; and only Rosie's final comment had startled her 'if he strikes you'. Would he intentionally hurt her?
"You tried to kill my childe and I fought for us. You would have slain the one man who has been steadfast and constant. My Julian and most trusted friend" It was true, Julian had remained, through the pain and seeming silence that followed the attack. Josephine had been terrified to mention her Julian, to even bring him about lest it set off Oblivion again. She had missed him terribly.
Another section ripped and fell. Her bottle swirled as she drank from it again. Even their second marriage had been a farce. A fairy tale coated lie as he pledged to love her for all eternity. The last of the dress rent in half.
"Eternity or until another piece of ass drifted your way?" No Pulse was not her husband. That she could easily say. Pulse was some piece of rotten filth that posed as such. Oblivion had perhaps loved her; cherished her. This man was not that one. This one used her in the way one would use a pawn then discarded her.
Da-xia would be better without him. Better without knowing this wretched creature who had abandoned the one who had loved him selflessly. The pile of fabric scraps were shoved together piled firmly in the sand as she moved. A small match book drawn from the pocket of her blouse. Fingers worked carefully to strike it before dropping it into the nest of tulle and satin.
"Every promise you made, every word you spoke, every touch shared.." Tears fell freely, not bothering to hold her mask of dignity about her. Instead she garnished the growing flame with what was left in her bottle. "Is as ash to me...The love will be there, that part of my heart gone; but it does not belong to Pulse. It is Oblivion's for he was the man I married" It was a quiet oath. The final part of her grieving.
She would not weep for a man six months dead. Would not cry for a husband who had perished long before he had divorced her. No, this man wearing her husband's face and body held none of the respect or tender regard that Josephine carried for Oblivion. Instead she would view him as the murderer of her beloved mate. Turn coat and trollop; he was the equivalent of a male jiggalo.
"Every word the Lomaxes spoke of you, Pulse made true. You are no better than Vangoth; casting off brides for a new fling. No better than any male you would label with disdain. No longer worth my tears..." She was done, emptied; holding only to her resolve to better what she could for her childer. Josephine would progress further even if each step near killed her.
