Jesse Reeves (talamascanjesse) wrote in desvampires,
Jesse Reeves

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Jesse and Nicki travelling again

Nicki's exclamation of "take me" had brought a curve to the edges of Jesse's mouth. She hadn't realized he'd wanted the violin, or the mirror for that matter. His reaction led her to believe he'd leave them in that field.

But when he ran back to get him, she was sure of two things- that she definitely, and unfortunately cared for him, and that he was not completely insane.

She wound her arms around Nicki's waist and willed them both upward, away from the field. No more than ten minutes later they touched back down, standing now in the desert near to Maharet's home- but not near enough for it to be a concern.

Jesse let go of Nicki, her red hair wild and her eyes wide. She gestured to a boulder that stood near a Joshua tree. Up there, she said to him, not speaking.

This was a place Jesse used to come to talk with Maharet, during the summer she spent with her and with Mael. It was, in her opinion, the best place on the planet to sit and talk, and it was shrouded with important memories and the laughter of those Jesse cared about.

She quickly, easily jumped up onto the rock, not realizing what a labor that climb must have been for her as a mortal. She hadn't been here as a vampire yet.

Jesse looked down over the edge of the thing at Nicki. Well?
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Nicolas stood in wonder when Jesse let go of him. He stumbled of course as he was not expecting it, but it didn't matter. He looked at everything, eyes slightly widened and the same for his mouth. He touched everything that he possibly could, running his hands over some things several times and barely brushing others. There didn't seem to any pattern to it, why he studied one thing and barely looked at another.


He heard her voice in his head and looked up startled, almost if he had forgotten that he was not alone. He looked and saw her sitting on a rock. He had no idea where they were, but the location seemed unimportant. He always hated plans anyway, and he didn't need to know everything in the world.

His movements matched hers and within seconds he was on the rock. He took the backpack off and set it between them. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on his knees, looking at her, waiting for her to say something.
Jesse gave Nicki a small smile. Then she turned and looked out at the horizon, purple and hazy despite the dark night. It was beautiful here. Her favorite place in the world, except maybe for New York.

"I'd like to keep talking to you," she said, calmly, her hair blowing across her lips and her eyes. She pushed it out of the way. "That is, if you'll continue to answer my questions."
"I'll answer what I can," Nicolas agreed ancd folded his arms on top of his knees, making sort of a pillow for his head. He rested for a moment and soon become lost in looking at his surroundings. He caught himself and smiled faintly.

"Sorry, I'm easily distracted," he explained.
"It's alright. It's easy to be distracted here."

And it was. It was gorgeous.

"You can ask me whatever you like, y'know," Jesse said, laying back with her feet still on the ground, knees up. She was watching the stars like she had done so many times that summer, talking with Mael about the taste of cigarettes. Her red hair fanned out around her head like a copper halo. She smiled slightly.

"If you had it to do again, would you still take The Blood?"
Nicolas paused and stared at her for a moment, his face once again completely blank, even the subtle anger gone. He drew his knees tighter to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

"I wasn't expecting that," he said truthfully. "And honestly, I don't know the answer to that. I want to say probably, yes I probably would. But I never wanted it for all its gifts, I wanted it because Lestat had it and I wanted to be with him. Perhaps if he had told me right away I wouldn', I'd still want it, simply because he had it," Nicolas answered, amazed at his answer. He expected to give a yes or no answer, but he went on and somewhat explained why, and he had no idea why he did that. He wanted to become aggravated, but he found he could not. This environment was too tranquil.

"What about you? If you could do it all over again, would you go to Lestat's concert?" he asked.
Jesse turned her head to look at Nicki.

"In a heartbeat," she said. She took a breath. "I've become so much closer to Maharet, so much more her child than I ever was when I was mortal. And though I miss Miriam every night I open my eyes, I don't regret what I did."

Jesse sighed. "I was passionate about what I studied; I had to have answers. And maybe this isn't the route I had in mind, but I got those answers, for the most part, though I doubt I'll ever be satisfied with them."

Her eyes clouded for a moment. "Though, if maybe I could forego the bit about my neck breaking this time..."

An irresistible grin spread across her face as she watched the stars.

"Who was the first girl you kissed?"

"I would say you were passionate about what you studied if you became what you studied. That's dedication, something no one seems to have anymore," Nicolas said with a slight frown.

"The first girl I kissed?" Nicolas asked in amazement. He had expected anything but that. He blinked a few times and although it was evident he fought against it, he could not help but smile.

"Her name was Adrienne," he said softly. He couldn't help it as he smiled again and he buried his face between his knees. He looked up, once more composed, his face emotionless again.

"And you? What about the first boy you kiss?" he asked. "I have another question and I want to ask before I forget it. Why can you no longer see your mother?" he asked softly as if he were afraid to hurt her feelings. "Mona, Lestat, and a few others are able to see spirits, why can't you? You were a powerful witch, were you not?" he questioned, his eyebrows creasing as if he really was thinking about his question.
Jesse smiled. I knew it. Not ALL apathy. She veiled that thought. But she saw the smile creep across Nicki's face at the thought of his first kiss. That was exactly what she was looking for.

And two questions...

"Two questions?" Jesse chuckled. "Alright. I'll take the easier one first."

She lowered her eyes. "The first boy I kissed was Jonathan. I was 15." Jesse smiled, and realized she was probably blushing as well.

"The question about my mother isn't as easy..." her voice trailed off. Jesse was silent for long while, watching the sky and feeling the wind kiss her forehead. Nicki might have thought she was not going to answer. But she was choosing her words.

"Maharet told me, and all of us, really, that spirits disliked us because were both spirit AND flesh, whereas witches are only flesh with a talent for seeing or hearing spirits. Miriam left me... I'm not sure why... but I'm sure she didn't approve. She begged me to come to her, and not to do what I did."

A few blood tears welled in her pretty green eyes. "In the end I think it was too painful for Miriam to stay, or to allow me to see her any longer. I can still sense things, and I still have vivid dreams, very vivid, that are like visions. But the rest of my power, insofar as I had any as a witch, morphed into this," Jesse said, gesturing to herself, her body.

Jesse wiped the traces of blood from her eyes, blinking a bit.

"Why the violin, Nicki? Why not any other instrument?"

Nicolas looked at her, his face not moving or showing any emotion. He had little clues, however, clues that she probably hadn't picked up on yet. Like when her eyes began to fill up with blood tears, he drew his bottom lip into his mouth to bite it slightly. He felt bad for making her eyes well up but he would show her that. He always asked things without thinking first, and eventually, that broke Lestat. He hadn't realized before how asking questions could be so dangerous.

He looked at her when she asked her question, his eyebrow raising slightly. He unfolded his legs and stretched them out in front of him then leaned back on his elbows.

"I fell in love with it," he answered simply. "I was in Paris, studying like my father expected of me and...oh, you've already heard the story," he said and looked down at the rock.

"What is your favorite color and why?" he asked, not sure of what to say next.
Jesse sat up, crossing her legs underneath her.

"My favorite color?" She grinned. For a moment, Jesse looked again like the 20 year old girl she'd been when she'd first come out here. For a moment, she didn't care about anything-- she was just laughing at the pure honest manner in which Nicki asked her that, and the question itself.

The grin stayed with her, making her seem childlike and vulnerable. "Red," Jesse said, nodding in affirmation. "Because of its meaning in my family, the power of the red hair. And because it's so strong without even trying."

She laughed, a short and even laugh.

"And yours?" Jesse's eyebrow went up, unwittingly.
Nicolas watched her as she explained her favorite color. Her cheerful face, the way she couldn't stop smiling, almost made Nicolas want to smile, but he didn't. He kept his face blank, only tilting his head a little to the side.

"I never really had a favorite color. I was always serious, you know. I was more into studying and later, playing the violin. I don't give much thought to anything. Although, I suppose you could say I liked the color blue because I would play outside all day under the blue sky, but once it became dark my mother would pull me inside." Nicolas laughed. "Apparently, the creatures in the night did get me after all. But as for liking one color, I never really did that."

He tilted his head to look at the sky as he thought of a question. "Do you mind what you are? Do you, like Louis, freak out because you most kill others in order for you to live? When I read Lestat's book you seemed compassionate and gentle, like you never wanted to hurt anyone. Killing, even if you feed rarely, does not go well with compassionate people, I would imagine," Nicolas said.
Jesse didn't hesitate. "I don't mind what I am, no," she said. "I don't lament it. But then again, I didn't have life stolen from me, as Louis believes he did, or as you might say you did. It was this, or death. And while I don't... erm... enjoy that I have to kill to survive, I don't think I hate it, either."

She moved closer to Nicki, almost touching him and not even realizing it. "You say I am compassionate and gentle, which may be true, but that doesn't mean that I will allow myself to feel horribly for something I can't do anything about. I feed rarely, as it is, and when I do... well, you know what it's like. It's better than sex. And I was never ashamed of that, either."

Jesse raised her eyebrow again, looking out over the Joshua trees and the infinity of the landscape, knowing that a few miles away, Maharet was probably sitting, talking with Eric and Mael, listening to poetry recitations or watching films with subtitles, and the thought in itself gave her peace.

She continued looking out in the distance. "Do you... do you resent me for what I did in that field?"
Nicolas looked away from her suddenly, his brown curls flying with the motion of his head. He sat up and slightly turned his body away from her, his long legs bent behind him. He didn't want to think of the bag. Why did he go back and get it? Obviously Jesse didn't care about it, so why should he? Like he said, he did things without thinking and someone always ended up hurt. This time he was the one that was hurt.

"No, I don't resent you," he said softly, tracing patterns on the rock with his long pointer finger. He turned so he was sitting straight, once more looking at Jesse, and he noticed how close she moved. He deeply inhaled and closed his eyes, willing his face to look even more apathetic, if such a thing were possible.

"It would be unfair of me to resent you. I asked, after all, didn't I?" he asked and shrugged.

"I've been meaning to ask you this, and if I already have, I'm sorry, I'm distracted. Have you told Lestat about me?" he asked serious, his eyes filled with some emotion, although it was difficult to which one it was, and perhaps it was more than one, maybe all of them just fixed together. But as soon as he blinked, the look was gone, and once more his eyes were dead.
Jesse watched Nicki trace a pattern on the rock-- something she'd done countless times before. Actually, Jesse was pretty sure that somewhere on this thing, she'd dug out her name.

And it wasn't that she didn't care about the bag-- it wasn't like Jesse had made those drawings for nothing. But in the situation...

Nicki's eyes were frightening. Calm and dead and utterly without light, though Jesse thought, maybe naively, that there was light in him.

She'd seen it, hadn't she?

"Yes, I have told him," Jesse said, gently. "Rather, I told him I believed you were still alive, because of a dream I had. He didn't believe me." She laughed a bit, looking down at her hands, fingers laced together. "He threw me out of his apartment."

She thought of the dream for a moment. She could hear the violin again, and see Nicki playing feverishly, playing too fast. Jesse banished the thought quickly.

A ghost of happiness came over her face, almost cruelly, because Jesse was not happy. There was something she wanted to ask, something she had never asked anyone else. So why not now?

"What was it like," she began, voice quaking slightly, "to grow up with brothers and sisters? With parents?"

Nicolas crossed his arms and brought them on either side of his neck, almost as if he was giving himself a hug. He closed his eyes and let his head drop. Of course she told Lestat. Of course he kicked her out. That was just something he would do. Suddenly, he felt the rage inside of him that he had missed. It went away quickly however, and Nicolas gasped as it went away, his eyes snapped open and he dropped his hands into his lap.

He hardly heard her question, but once he sat silently, it all came to him. He brought his hands to his cheeks and bent over so his elbows were on his knees and he held his head in his hands.

"It was ok, I guess. It was the only life I knew," he said and sat up straight, tucking his feet under him Indian Style. "I had two brothers and one sister, I don't know if Lestat talked about this. I was the oldest, so I was never abused by my brothers like Lestat was. We had a normal relationship, we fought, but it was nothing serious. I was over-protective of my younger sister, she was the baby of the family. I grew closer to her than my brothers. And I think that when I went to Paris to study, it hit her more than anyone," he said and paused. He looked behind Jesse, out into the trees. He sighed and went on.

"I don't think my father liked me very much. He wanted me to be him. He wanted me to go to school, to study, and take over the business. And I started doing it, I don't know why. He made sure I studied, that was his main thing, education. My mother was completely unenlightened. She was very superstitious. She hated me being out after dark, no black cats, nonsense like that," he said and shook his head. He drew in a deep shuttering breath and exhaled slowly.

"Honestly, I never paid much attention to my family. I played with my siblings during the day, but other than that I studied. Aside from Lestat and Gabrielle, I never really loved or felt attached to anyone," he answered. He looked down at the rock. She knew he wasn't insane. He knew that she knew. There was no point in trying to pretend anymore. He let go suddenly, let his face fill with the sadness that he wanted it to. Somehow, his face softened, his mouth tilted down, and his eyes were sad, lost, longing.

"Why are you even bothering to talk to me? Are you just going to record this like you would when you were a Talamascan?" he snapped and stood up, suddenly angry at himself for showing so much of himself to her.
Jesse jumped back a bit, retreating like a threatened animal, legs scrambling. She looked up at Nicki.

Jesse's eyes shone fiercely, reflecting moonlight and, now, Nicki's anger. She caught herself retreating and hated herself for it, quickly getting her feet underneath her and standing up. Though Nicki was taller, Jesse did not seem the smaller of the two; she stood straight, statuesque. An older vampire might have mistaken her for Maharet. Everything about her had become straight and tall, demanding acknowledgement and respect.

"I'm not recording anything," she fired back, glaring up at him. "I'm curious, there were things I wanted to know, things I could never ask you in New Orleans without catching hell from Marius and Lestat!"

Jesse was vaguely aware that she had been walking forward, pushing Nicki backward with her steps. And she was almost yelling, destroying the peace of this beautiful spot. That was sacrilege.

She lowered her voice, but the animosity remained. It was now a dull roar instead of a fierce tidal wave. "I was a Talamascan, and I am sick and tired of being made to feel like shit for it! I will not apologize for my nature anymore than you should apologize for falling in love with the violin!"

She'd almost spit out that last sentence.

Jesse probably seemed to Nicki to be smoldering, the wind blowing her red hair around her like a fiery veil, her eyes set on him and radiant with passionate anger.

For every step Jesse took, Nickolas took two backward. He walked back, keeping his eyes on hers, no longer angry, but the perfect dead eyes that he perfected and loved to use. He only stopped when he reached the end of the rock and let out a little gasp when he almost fell.

She had been quiet for some time and he still felt no need to answer. He wanted to smirk as he stared back at her. Jessica Reeves angry? Somehow, he didn't think it was possible, but Nicolas could make Jesus Christ himself angry if he wanted.

The only thing I'm good at is making people angry...and playing the violin," he thought, not caring if she heard it or not.

"It is not because you were a Talamascan that I brought that up. I would have said that no matter who I sat here with, even Lestat. I'd want to know why anyone sat here and talked to me," he explained and folded his arms across his back.

"Why do you want to know?" Nicolas demanded. "I was Lestat's sidekick, the insane violinist, the cynical one, that's all! Lestat's the one you should wish to question, he is far more interesting than I am. His stories are happier and at least he has done things with his immortality!" Nicolas wanted to yell but he couldn't. He found that looking around at the trees, he could not raise his voice.

"I've made you angry, I'll leave," he said as he turned to jump off of the rock.

Jesse relaxed slightly.

She was SO sick of people blaming her curious nature for things, of people blaming her Talamascan training for everything she'd found that no one wanted to deal with. Case in point, she thought, looking Nicki up and down.

You do realize, don't you, that you ARE interesting, simply because no one knows much about you?

"Why don't I talk to Lestat?" Jesse almost spat that out. "I have. And I've studied him, ad nauseum," she said, looking up and then back at Nicki. "Don't you realize that there hasn't been a vampire I haven't known about in decades?"

She sighed, taking a step toward Nicki, who was turned away from her. But something in Jesse gave way.

She jumped over Nicki, landing like a cat on the ground below. She looked over her shoulder, up at him, through her hair, face gleaming in the night, and Jesse rose and began to walk away.
Nicolas crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at down at her, still emotionless. Yes, that was the only reason anyone would care to talk to him. He was new, he was different, he was mysterious. Once he lost all mystery he would be cast aside, once more forgotten about. Lestat had forgotten about him and they were best friends.

He watched as she walked. She was so graceful! Was he that graceful? Somehow he doubted it. Aside from his pale skin, which was whiter now from not feeding, he thought he pretty much looked and acted like a mortal. He had some of the grace, but watching Jesse, he knew that he did not have it all.

Without thinking of it, he dropped from the rock and slowly and silently walked behind her. He knew that she knew he was behind her, but it didn't matter. He caught up to her suddenly and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Jessica, I'm sorry," he said, tilted his head down so his hair in front of his face, then looked at her sideways through his veil of dark curls.
Jesse didn't glance up as Nicki followed. Why wouldn't he? He didn't know where he was, he needed a way back to New Orleans, or to... somewhere. He wasn't very well going to stay out here in the desert, was he?

His footfalls were loud to Jesse. Maybe, she thought, that was because hers had never been human once she was turned. She'd always had Maharet's advantages.

Nicki's hand on her shoulder had surprised Jesse, nearly out of her skin. But she'd stopped, and looked over at Nicki, almost sighing. She tilted her head back, tears threatening again, hair falling back and long white neck arching.

And then she smiled, somewhat bitterly.
"We're even now, aren't we?"
Nicolas stepped away from her and crossed his arms again. He shrugged and looked at the feet, his feet kicking at the dirt. He didn't know what to say so he shrugged slightly and kept his arms crossed tight.

"I suppose so," he answered, looking at her as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"I'm tired of making everyone cry. I'll go back, get the violin, and leave. You can have the mirror, and all your other belongings. I'll leave. I'll find my own way out. I need to feed anyway. We don't all have advantages," he said and turned around. He turned his head to look back at her. "But, thank you for the violin. I don't know what I'm going to do with it, but thank you," he said.
Jesse was surprised at this, at Nicki's obvious nervousness, and his discomfort.

"It's okay. Crying reminds me i'm not invincible," Jesse said, face and eyes softening with kindness. "You'll have to forgive me, sometimes, for that. Too much strength is like a rush of blood to the head."

For some reason, Jesse wanted to touch Nicki, physically stop him from leaving. But she would not do it.

She'd have to do it with words.

"That's the best conversation I've had this side of immortality," Jesse said, her voice sweet and soothing. "I'll go with you to feed, if you like. I really don't want you to leave."

Nicolas laughed slightly as he turned to face her.

"Best conversation?" he repeated. "You haven't had many conversations as an immortal, have you?" he asked. He rubbed his arms and kicked a twig that was in front of him.

His face still hadn't lost the apathetic look, but his face softened slightly. His eyes were dead, but not as dead as they used to. He looked the same, but less hostile.

"Sure, you can come. But Evil Doer, all that, I don't go for it," Nicolas said and shook his head. "To me, everyone is evil. Everyone has sinned, so it doesn't really matter who I kill, does it?" Nicolas asked as he began to walk, his hands down at his side.

"I don't know where the nearest mortal is, and animals don't satisfy me," he said to her.
Jesse smirked at him. "I don't get out much." she said.

There was a town nearby, within walking distance. But Jesse figured she'd leave the walking, or flying, up to Nicki.
"There's a place nearby we can go. Would you rather walk or fly?"

Nicolas grinned.

"Honestly, I'd like to fly," he answered, surprising himself. He was doing that a lot tonight, surprising himself.

He turned to face her and he stared at her, waiting for her to do something.