Night at the Museum
Feb. 7th, 2015 12:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
onceavikingIt's not hard to find Edginton. He's left a trail of blood behind, a rent boy here, a taxi driver there, each one pointing Eric in direction of the next.
He ends up at The Jackson Art Museum. Empty. Apart from a dead security guard and a mad vampire wearing a trench coat two sizes too big. It makes him look sloppy.
He really has lost it.
And there's the crystal urn containing the gooey remains of his lover. The one he us clutching to his chest.
"Talbot adores this one. Adored. I'm having trouble switching tenses," Russell says, looking up at the large painting in question.
"You understand. Why did you do it? Talbot never harmed you." Addressing Eric without turning to face him.
He knows he is here. That he has been following him. And Eric knew that he knew.
It's a dance.
"You loved him more than anyone, so he had to die."
It really was that simple.
"I'm about to put an end to your insignificant existence. This is not the time to be obscure," Edgington replies. Practically calmly. The mad rage seems to be gone.
"A thousand years ago, you brought your wolves among the Vikings to butcher a human family... my family. Apparently, you wanted my father's crown for your vast collection of meaningless shit." He walks closer as he speaks, a hulking, menacing presence.
Russell starts laughing. "My, my. To lose the one man I ever loved because you miss your mommy and daddy, well, that is a kick in the pants."
"There are consequences, even for Russell Edgington." It's said blandly.
Russell's lips curve in a strange, little smile. "Life is absurd. Still, I'm excited to destroy you."
"My loved ones are dead," Eric says. "And now Talbot is dead." He looks Edginton straight in the eye. "We're even."
"Don't beg for mercy," Russel says. Disparagingly. "It's such a bore."
"I couldn't help but notice your expanding ambitions. You're after the whole world now, aren't you? Well, I can help you get it."
His story lacks internal logic, because why would he want to help Edginton?
But he is counting on madness and ambition to overshadow that fact.
"Eric, you are nothing more than a lump of muscle with a blood grudge. You got lucky. You couldn't possibly comprehend what I'm after. We should begin."
And he puts Talbot down, carefully, and steps close. Lifting one hand to Eric's face.
"I can offer you the sun," Eric says. And everything stops.
Russell's hand hangs there, almost touching Eric's cheek. "Oh, daywalking," he says. "Ohhh, the old myth. That was around when I was turned. You're pathetic."
Eric counters him, insistently, "It's not a myth, not at all. There have been recent advances, and it's been done."
Russell looks at him. Then he says, "Go on. Spin your little fairytale." And he is caught. That was all the opening that was needed.
"I will show you how to do it," Eric promises, looking intently into Edgingon's eyes. "Now, tell me you don't want it." Daring him.
"I never said I didn't want it. It's the ultimate vampire dream, isn't it? No one could stand against me." He wants it. He wants it so bad it hurts.
"You would be invulnerable," Eric says in a low tone, dangling this most coveted possibility in front of him. And adding, because he has to up the ante on this, to make it believable, "If I'm wrong, kill me tomorrow."
Russell looks up at him, laughing a little. "Clever boy to tempt me," he says.
A cheery ring tone interrupts them, and Eric fishes his phone out of his pocket, half turning his back on Edgington.
If he'd had a still beating heart, it would have been hammering in his chest.
Ain't we got fun?
"Not a good time."
He ends up at The Jackson Art Museum. Empty. Apart from a dead security guard and a mad vampire wearing a trench coat two sizes too big. It makes him look sloppy.
He really has lost it.
And there's the crystal urn containing the gooey remains of his lover. The one he us clutching to his chest.
"Talbot adores this one. Adored. I'm having trouble switching tenses," Russell says, looking up at the large painting in question.
"You understand. Why did you do it? Talbot never harmed you." Addressing Eric without turning to face him.
He knows he is here. That he has been following him. And Eric knew that he knew.
It's a dance.
"You loved him more than anyone, so he had to die."
It really was that simple.
"I'm about to put an end to your insignificant existence. This is not the time to be obscure," Edgington replies. Practically calmly. The mad rage seems to be gone.
"A thousand years ago, you brought your wolves among the Vikings to butcher a human family... my family. Apparently, you wanted my father's crown for your vast collection of meaningless shit." He walks closer as he speaks, a hulking, menacing presence.
Russell starts laughing. "My, my. To lose the one man I ever loved because you miss your mommy and daddy, well, that is a kick in the pants."
"There are consequences, even for Russell Edgington." It's said blandly.
Russell's lips curve in a strange, little smile. "Life is absurd. Still, I'm excited to destroy you."
"My loved ones are dead," Eric says. "And now Talbot is dead." He looks Edginton straight in the eye. "We're even."
"Don't beg for mercy," Russel says. Disparagingly. "It's such a bore."
"I couldn't help but notice your expanding ambitions. You're after the whole world now, aren't you? Well, I can help you get it."
His story lacks internal logic, because why would he want to help Edginton?
But he is counting on madness and ambition to overshadow that fact.
"Eric, you are nothing more than a lump of muscle with a blood grudge. You got lucky. You couldn't possibly comprehend what I'm after. We should begin."
And he puts Talbot down, carefully, and steps close. Lifting one hand to Eric's face.
"I can offer you the sun," Eric says. And everything stops.
Russell's hand hangs there, almost touching Eric's cheek. "Oh, daywalking," he says. "Ohhh, the old myth. That was around when I was turned. You're pathetic."
Eric counters him, insistently, "It's not a myth, not at all. There have been recent advances, and it's been done."
Russell looks at him. Then he says, "Go on. Spin your little fairytale." And he is caught. That was all the opening that was needed.
"I will show you how to do it," Eric promises, looking intently into Edgingon's eyes. "Now, tell me you don't want it." Daring him.
"I never said I didn't want it. It's the ultimate vampire dream, isn't it? No one could stand against me." He wants it. He wants it so bad it hurts.
"You would be invulnerable," Eric says in a low tone, dangling this most coveted possibility in front of him. And adding, because he has to up the ante on this, to make it believable, "If I'm wrong, kill me tomorrow."
Russell looks up at him, laughing a little. "Clever boy to tempt me," he says.
A cheery ring tone interrupts them, and Eric fishes his phone out of his pocket, half turning his back on Edgington.
If he'd had a still beating heart, it would have been hammering in his chest.
Ain't we got fun?
"Not a good time."
no subject
Date: 2015-02-08 12:28 am (UTC)She's sitting on the stripper pole dais while Ginger, kneeling down, very gingerly peels off the chains that are binding her ankles.
"Bill and Sookie escaped and Yvetta cleaned out the cash."
And Pam hangs up.
"Ow."
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Ginger apologizes, setting the offending chains aside. "It was dug in there real good."
She gets to her feet. She's wearing nothing but hot pants and a black bra that's supposed to be a top. Yes, she goes out like this.
"Can I get you somethin' to make you feel better?" she offers.
Pam stares at her.
"I need a drink."
And then she grabs Ginger and bites her throat. Ginger's high-pitched scream echoes throughout the empty bar.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-08 10:21 am (UTC)"How about we start off with a little hunt?" he asks.
"There's nothing like a chase to get the blood pumping."
And Russell, who has picked the urn up again and is cradling it, gently, against his chest, laughs. "I must agree with you there," he says, still chuckling.
"Yes. A hunt would be just the things even if I am dressed all wrong."
And Eric merely smiles cause how the fuck are you supposed to answer that. And then he briefly closes his eyes. Feeling Pam's pain slowly subside.
Feeling Sookie's giddy relief.
He opens his eyes again.
"That way."