'What had happened back there? And why? Could it be from that dream? Don't be preposterous Maz. But, What if that wasn't just a dream... I should stop thinking about it, I'll wait. I can afford to wait.' Mazonnia thought to himself, the walk felt as though it lasted an eternity, as if it were some form of judgement to slowly be passed on top of him, funny looks did't help, although they were always expected they all seemed somewhat similar this time, making this walk seem like a vicious circle, as if everything was switching around to confuse him. Mazonnia dropped all thoughts, making sure that he'd be careful to not think too deductively about what had happened back in the shop as well as what was happening right now, what plagued his mind most of all was that he couldn't remember slipping or his leg colliding with the other, it was worrying.
Minutes had passed and Mazonnia stood firmly against the floor, shifted on an axis to his right, his body facing the Snipe household he and Anton both shared, the home from the outside looked like any other, not that Mazonnia would know what it looked like in broad daylight but he had a good guess, it was a noblemans style of architecture from the outside, those clubbed clover patterns you could relate to a deck of cards, normally being either a black or white tone of finely sculpted marble, a heavy and beautiful thick wooden door, of a dark varnished tone, and two laps on either side of the door, both with the furthest glass pains painted black, Anton never did like the idea of sharing light he paid for to be spread onto passers by, it wasn't like he could demand a toll for them whenever they walked by either. "That loveable bast" Mazonnia said quietly to himself, walking towards the door, opening it effortlessly and not a sound was made by the doors hinges, the only sound was the twist of the door handle and the turning of locks as Mazonnia stepped into the the Snipe Manor.
It was dark; quiet; no one had been here in the night at all, Anton had never returned home, knowing that Anton can easily look after himself Mazonnia couldn't help but worry a little bit, or rather feel responsible for not knowing Anton's whereabouts. Darkness for Mazonnia, not that he would mind as there was really nothing he could do right now, Mazonnia stepped up the curved staircase and stepped quietly towards his room, removing his current clothing, bathing, then getting into something he found a little more casual, a maroon coloured cloth overcoat, multiple straps and flat cloth pauldrons, however underneath was his tailcoat which had all of his numerous pockets, Mazonnia had thought to wash the tailcoat sometime soon but there be no need, the manor was so lonesome that Mazonnia felt like he was becoming lost in some dull narrative, he knew that having Lucrezia and Anton meet would spark up something interesting eventually, hopefully not something too distressing. Mazonnia spent the remaining day downstairs in the living room in a tall oak chair, slowly sipping his way through red wine.
Spending the entire day inside was like torture to Lucrezia. She, who had rather enjoyed the sun's rays, was now confined to spend her days trapped, locked away like some sort of animal, only allowed to leave when the sun had set. Mazonnia walked in the sun, by covering his entire head with a red scarf. Although it may have been a good idea for him, Lucrezia didn't think that she would be able to pull it off. After all, most people in Hogsmeade had no idea she was even a half-vampire. She had kept that secret for a long time. How she would hide the fact that she was now a full blooded one, she wasn't sure, but she knew that wrapping herself in an overgrown scarf was not the smartest of options.
To say that the day passed slowly for her was an understatement. She had not been able to face opening the shop today, and had sent an owl to all her students that were due to visit informing them that she would not be able to give them their lessons. She spent a lot of time in her bedroom, curled up in her bedsheets. How she wished she were still in the day before! She would still have been human, she would not ask Mazonnia to bite her. Of course, she could think about it all she wanted, but the fact remained that she could not time travel, and therefore was stuck with the condition she was now in. She bathed, she read a book from cover to cover, and still the sun had not set, so she lay in her bed and slept.
When Lucrezia awoke, she decided that she was going to go to one of her most favourite places in Hogsmeade; the Hog's Head. She was sure that she would forget all her troubles after a few drams of gin. She dressed herself, a simple skirt paired with a corset and a blouse, and slipped on a pair of her more comfortable shoes on, locked everything up, and made her way towards the pub. She decided, by the time she got to the entrance, however, that she was more in need of a long walk to clear her head than a dram of gin to fuzz her head. She wasn't sure where the walk would lead her, but she was going to enjoy it none-the-less, because she could think things through.
Of course the first thing that had come to mind, that had been in her mind all day was Mazonnia, her sire. She had wanted to follow him out after he left her today, but she couldn't. She was too confused by the way he had acted to follow him. She wanted to know what she had done that was so wrong to make him run out of her home faster than lightning. She wanted to know why he had taken so much of her blood last night instead of simply tasting it. But most importantly, she wanted to know if he planned on leaving her now that she was a vampire.
Her thoughts were on Mazonnia for so long that she didn't realise that she had walked all the way through Wellingtonshire. When she paused outside a home, she felt a tug in her chest, something that instantly told her that she was near Mazonnia. She knew what the feeling meant because she had spoken to vampires when she had been around her father, who had told her what it felt like when they were around their sires. The closer she got to the house, the more she was certain he was there. She had been planning to leave it for a while before she spoke to him again, but she was clearly here for a reason. She made her way to the front door, and knocked on it politely. As the door opened a few moments later, she began to talk, looking down at her clothes. "Ms Lucrezia Balcescu, here to see Mr Meriushima. I do apologise for the late hour."
Mazonnia, sat in the old oak chair with half a glass of red wine could hear a familiar feminine voice echo throughout the household, the house was still very quiet even with the small amount of very talkative staff Anton had employed to keep everything in order whenever he was away, although they normally remained quiet when Anton wasn't around avoiding his deafening barks; how they were unprofessional and not worth what he pays them, which was already quite a small amount when you look into what the average wage of two maids and a butler normally is.
As one maid escorted Lucrezia into the room which Mazonnia was residing in, Mazonnia hadn't bothered to move a muscle; remaining completely still in his chair as if he were made of stone, his glass freshly stained from its rim downwards, two empty bottles of red wine lined neatly on the table, a third bottle at the base of the chair Mazonnia was sat in and a glass of red wine at the end of the table left for Lucrezia.
Mazonnia's face wasn't positive at all, it wasn't particularly negative either, what it was was emotionless and much like the rest of his body it was as motionless as stone. He didn't speak a word, after having quite a bit to drink Mazonnia questioned himself 'Am I drunk?' only to quickly discard the idea after being able to utter a simple question in his head clearly. The room was dimly lit with candles and at long last Mazonnia chose to roll his eyes to the side to look at Lucrezia, a small smile appearing on his face as her beauty seemed to brighten up the room and with that in mind he thought it proper to compliment her for it. "Your skins so pale; you're like a white tunnel in daylight"
That wasn't what Mazonnia had intended to say at all...
Lucrezia was led through the house to where Mazonnia was, and at first, he did not acknowledge her presence. This left Lucrezia a little torn. On the one hand, she had thought that he would leave her, and so this coldness was not unexpected from him. On the other, had it not be he who had suggested that she come to see him? Why would he have done so if he did not care for her? As she tried to decipher what he meant by it, he spoke, a smile on his face, and Lucrezia could not help but smile back. His words would usually have brought a blush to her face, but now she was not able to blush. Part of her was relieved. She had never blushed before they had met, and then it had become almost a constant in her meetings with Mazonnia.
She looked down at the floor as she responded. "Thank you," she said quietly. She stood, unsure of what she should do. She had never intended to arrive here, to see him, she had wanted to wait a few days at least, to take everything in about what was happening to her, and yet she had come here anyway. It was as though she was unable to keep away from him, and that vexed her a little. "You said I should come here, so we could talk, so I have come," she began, unsure of what she was going to say next. Had it been last night, she would simply have spoken of whatever she felt like, but so much had changed in one evening that she was unable to think clearly, let alone form any sort of sentence. "Although now I am here, I am not sure what I should say."
Lifting his arm ever so slowly, he pointed his finger at the other glass of wine which stood near the edge of the table. "That's for you"
It would appear as a delayed reaction to Lucrezia's last spoken words, Mazonnia raised his glass and shrugged his shoulders responding to Lucrezia's statement. "In every part of my mind I have not the faintest topic of conversation either" Spoken in a rough Romanian accent and certain words being partially dragged out or slurred, he tipped the glass against his mouth and swallowed what was left then set it down on the table. He stood; he picked up the bottle; he put it on the table; he took one step forwards and within the blink of an eye he slipped only to land flat against the harsh textile of the rug.
He laid there for a while without movement, he didn't feel the need or want to move anywhere else and soon it appeared that he had fallen to sleep. After a little while longer his eyes shot open and he stood up completely sober, looking around with a cautious look and eventually his eyes fell upon Lucrezia, he opened his mouth. "Lu...Lu-Lu-Lu..." Squeezing his eyes tight to remember her name "Lucrezia! Lucrezia. Lu-crez-ia" He repeated, each time her name being said his vocal tone thickened his Romanian accent.
A devilish smirk fell onto his face as he approached Lucrezia his eyes looked her up and down and arm wrapping around her waist quickly as sneakily leaned in pressing his lips against hers briefly. "It is I who should be thanking you, Lu-crez-ia" He uttered, his Romanian accent stronger and seemingly more fluent than before.
Lucrezia noticed a distinct change in him this evening. She had not noticed it at first, but Mazonnia's speech was slurring. Usually, his Romanian accent would send shivers along her spine, but this time, it distracted her. She glanced at the table, where two empty bottles of wine sat, and then to the bottle beside his chair. Mazonnia had been drinking. A lot. Well, that would explain the slurring, she thought. She watched as he rose, moving to set the bottle on the table, and couldn't move as he fell to the floor. She would have moved towards him when he called her name, each time a little differently, but decided against it when he moved towards her instead.
As he slid his hand around her waist, Lucrezia was a little weary. They had not parted on good terms this morning. There was something strange about him now. He wore a look that she had not seen on his face before. It was a look that scared her. He kissed her, and she didn't kiss him back. If this was how he thought he could apologise to her for what he had done to her, he was completely wrong. "And why should you be thanking me? For letting you drain me, I suppose," she said bitterly. She pulled away from him. She moved towards the glass of wine, and brought it to her lips. She didn't usually drink wine, but his behaviour was very strange, even for him, and she didn't like him. She turned her back on him, draining her glass quickly. "What could you possibly thank me for?" She didn't want to stay here anymore. She knew she shouldn't have come here. She should have just gone to the Hog's Head as she had originally decided. She turned again, looking towards the door. "I made a mistake coming here tonight. I should go."
Within the blink of an eye he was at the doors to the room which Lucrezia had entered through and with haste he shut the very same doors, he swirled his body on the spot to face Lucrezia and began to approach her once again. "Have another drink, my blue-eyed beauty" Fluidly spoken as if it were a limerick, his hands softly gracing her hips in a more polite manner as he continued to say. "You've made no mistake, in coming down" A delicate smile erected on his face as rested his forehead against hers softly.
He looked into her eyes "I was only attempting to lighten the mood. It felt a bit, dark..." He said softly, everything still being in a nonchalant Romanian accent, he began to stroke his thumbs against Lucrezia's sides whilst his hands detained her hips, he closed his eyes once more and began to look back on his memories of being with Lucrezia, if he had a human heart he was sure that such memories would be considered very heart-warming.
He was at the door before Lucrezia could walk out. She knew that something was very wrong here. Mazonnia would not have behaved like this with her before. She felt his hands rest on her hips, and she almost shuddered. "I do not want another drink, Mazonnia. You wanted me to come here so we could talk. Not so you could paw at me," she said as his forehead touched hers. She was extremely angry now. What did he think he was doing? Where did he think this would get him? She hoped that this was just the wine that was affecting him so. She would be truly upset if this was what it was like to be with the real Mazonnia.
Lucrezia pushed him away as his thumbs were following the line of her sides. "Dark? You turned me, against my will! Of course it was going to be a dark conversation we were going to have! Merlin's Beard Mazonnia, did you really think I would thank you? I gave you permission to bite me, not drain me and turn me into a vampire! I didn't ask for this!" She paused, looking at him, the anger and pain quite visible in her ice-blue eyes for anyone to see. "You couldn't expect that everything would return to normal, could you? Is this how you treat every poor unsuspecting woman who falls in love with you? Let them believe that you are the perfect creature, then turn them, and abandon them?" Lucrezia stopped, giving him some time to respond, feeling her body shaking, but from what, she could not decipher. It could have been anger, fear, sadness, anyone of these feelings could have caused her to tremble now, since she was feeling them all.
He wasn't enjoying Lucrezia becoming so unnecessarily angry like this and it was too irritating to not punish such unnecessary words from such a so-obviously hysterical and uncontrolled person and though Lucrezia had finished talking he felt no hesitation to cup one hand at the bridge of where her neck and head met, forcing her off her feet and throwing her body down against the table effortlessly. His hands pressed against her shoulders to hold her down against the surface of the table, his body knelt over hers.
"Perhaps its time to act a little more calm, we don't want to disturbed the silence with unruly behaviour after all" His voice sounded insane, but still deep and in a thick Romanian accent, his hands stroked down Lucrezia's arms as his fingers wrapped around her wrists he pulled them above her head and cuffed them together with one hand, the back of his free hand brushed against Lucrezia's face freely. "I don't want to ruin such a beautiful and elegant person such as you, Lucrezia." He uttered grimly.
In one sudden movement, Lucrezia had been flung against the table. Now the trembles that may have been caused by anger were quickly replaced by those of pain, and fear. She looked up at him looming over her, felt his hands holding her shoulders down. In all the time she had known him, never once had she been afraid of him. Now, she was almost terrified. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look into the eyes that yesterday held so much comfort for her.
There was something in his voice that made her even more uneasy than the entire situation made her, an almost maniacal quality to it. She remembered walking past the Bedlams of London, and hearing the screaming, the shrieking, the deranged ramblings, and Mazonnia's speech reminded her very much of those poor souls. Lucrezia bit down on her lips, her fangs scratching at her lower lip as his fingers ran along her arm, willing herself to keep quiet. It would be easier for her not to say a word, to let him do whatever it was that he was going to do. He was her maker, he could easily take her life away from her, and now was definitely the time in which she needed to remember that. She turned her head away from his touch. "Mazonnia, what is going on?" she asked him quietly, not wanting to let the shakiness of her voice to come through, but failing miserably. The fear in her tone was evident, and she had tried so hard to it not to be. She just wanted to go home.
With a flick of his tongue he drew a cold wet line against the side of Lucrezia's neck then appearing into her sight with his maroon coloured eyes his hands began to tighten and a deep; slow chuckle breached his lips, a freakishly wide grin appeared for a moment; suddenly! "Lucrezia?" Mazonnia called out, the tone of voice was clearly that of Mazonnia's and a worried expression had appeared on his face almost instantly, he no longer seemed like another person for that brief moment and brief the moment was going to be as Mazonnia quickly became 'him' once again. "Lu-crez-i-a...It appears that our conversation will have to be cut short, rosemary girl, but remember! Sorinnia, will, return. It would be in your best in-ter-rests, rosemary girl, that you don't disappear, hiding will only make out next encounter more...tormenting."
The deep romanian tone spewed Sorinnia's grimly spoken words, a dark laughter bellowed as Sorinnia knelt up, he held his arms out as if he were crucified, his eyes began to close and the moment they were shut the laughter ceased almost instantly.
Mazonnia's arms dropped to his sides, his balance not yet regained, his body leaned backwards and within a second Mazonnia dropped from the edge of the table hitting the stone floor with a muffled thud, he opened his eyes to a blurry view of the dining room; looking side to side, unaware of what had just taken place a moment ago. Feeling the back of his head, cringing his body the moment he pressured the painful bump that had appeared, in his light romanian tone he casually announced. "I should really find better ways to pass out"
Lucrezia shuddered as she felt Mazonnia's tongue along her neck, something she didn't think she would happen with him. She had never been afraid of him, or disgusted by him, but now she felt both. His voice changed as he looked at her and said her name, and, for a moment, the fear subsided. That didn't last for very long, as the strange voice that she had heard from almost the moment she had arrived here began to speak again. This time, the voice was given a name, Sorrinia. The name sent a shiver down her spine, and she closed her eyes tightly. She felt the pressure of his body ease, and heard a thud. She lifted her head to look down at him, still a little afraid that Mazonnia, or Sorrinia, would jump out at her.
When she heard Mazonnia's voice, his usual, light tones, she let herself slip off the edge of the table, and moved towards him. She knew it would probably be a stupid idea, to kneel beside him and make sure that he was okay, but she honestly couldn't help herself. She cared about him, despite everything that had happened. She said nothing for a moment, unsure of what exactly she could say to him in that moment. Instead, she just looked at him. "That's twice today you've ended up on the floor," she told him. "It's becoming a bit of a habit with you." She waited for a moment, just to see if he would be okay, and slowly began to get up, partly to help him, and partly to distance herself from him, in case he changed again. "You realise you have a lot of explaining to do, don't you?"
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