exsiliumlogs | ❝ no one can blame you for walking away ❞

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❝ no one can blame you for walking away ❞

Date & Time: December 7th, several hours into the masquerade
Location: At the masquerade
Characters: Artemis Ratcliff & Azrael
Summary: Artemis seeks out a vampire, and discovers that he has undergone some changes.
Warnings: None for the time being.

It was easy for Artemis to get caught up in the masquerade. He looked quite as though he was immersed in his natural environment, and in many ways he was. He moved about the palace with a confident stride, periodically asking others to dance-- some strangers, some not, but always in the most polite of fashions.

However, after an hour or two had passed, he began to notice that he had not yet encountered Azrael. He had been hoping to see the vampire, and was more than a bit disappointed that they had not yet crossed paths. Curiously, he began to make his way through the palace, hoping that Azrael had not opted out of attending entirely, and regretting that he had not spoken to him about the event ahead of time.

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Azrael would be noticeable soon enough, though he was tucked into a corner himself--his lips on the back of a young woman's hand, though she flitted away as he lifted his eyes to the approaching gentleman. Though he wore a deep red mask, his blue eyes were telltale enough; his dark brown hair the same, though it hung in a loose ponytail, much longer than before. His own expression seemed one of almost shock as he caught sight of Artemis--though he shook that expression as he approached.

"Artemis," he began, his level of comfort with the fey noticeably improved. He craned his head slightly to one side as he reached out toward him, behaving only as though he'd been here naturally and since its very beginning.

Artemis was somewhat surprised by how the other man seemed to exude a confidence that he had been lacking before, but was not displeased with the development. He did not bother with subtlety as he ran his eyes over Azrael's form from head to toe as he approached, taking in the sight of both the masquerade clothing that the vampire had chosen and the length of his hair (a curious development, but one he did not remark upon).

Smiling, he took Azrael's hand and closed the distance between them. "Good evening," he purred.

"You are looking marvelous," he murmured, taking Artemis against him with a deep grin on his features. He moved with him smoothly, tucking a hand at the small of Artemis' back easily and almost immediately assuming a position of dominance--curious. "Unusually young, but marvelous," he added as an afterthought.

Then he was looking over at the others -- the entire ballroom, really -- before his attention fell on Artemis. Most notably, his skin was no longer its white pallor; it was enchanted into a careful, living human's pale flesh.

Artemis smirked in return, though his expression faltered at the other man's words and attempt at displaying dominance. His momentary confusion had him looking at Azrael almost sceptically, studying the subtle changes in his appearance. A moment later, his eyes were widening as something seemed to click into place-- as he noted the magic that was radiating from his companion.

"You've changed..."

"Have I?" he asked; his tone was playful, though he made a point not to remove his mask in his time pressed close to the other man, dancing within remarkable proximity. Of course he had, and it was very obvious that he knew it--he was surprised that he was so proud of himself for somehow ending up back here, back in this strange future that was not his own--memories horrible and wonderful and shocking, all so abruptly returning.

"I suppose I have."

Artemis looked at Azrael with suspicion, even as he shifted the positions of his hands on Azrael so that he could more easily attempt to lead as they danced. "What has happened?" he asked, displeased to have such questions go unexplained.

Laughing gently, Azrael couldn't help his amusement with Artemis' displeasure with the questions unanswered. He allowed him to lead him, quietly shifting their position in turn -- reminding himself that this Artemis was a bit different from his own.

"I have gone from this place and come back," he murmured in reply, thoughtful. "I have spent one hundred years from this place in my home--I can't say I'm disappointed to have returned, knowing you are here as well as there."

Artemis was surprised to hear this, and was thoughtful over the words, the implications. One sentence was enough to make him pause in his steps. "I exist in your world? You knew me there?" After a moment, he was leading Azrael toward the side of the room, obviously too focused on the conversation to continue to dance in that moment.

Seeming surprised by their relocation but unbothered by it, Azrael permitted Artemis to move them along as he was. He watched him for a brief few seconds, then nodded slowly. "I know you there, oui," he murmured, making a motion with his wrist as though the notion were not as ludicrous as Artemis seemed to be making it out to be.

"We are engaged to be married, my dear."

At any other point in their history, it would be very easy to tell that Azrael was bluffing -- joking, or intentionally causing issue between them. In this moment, however, it was obvious that he spoke the truth.

Artemis led them to a balcony so that they could have a degree of privacy as they spoke. He released Azrael's hand, but did not move far.

When Azrael spoke, his ears perked upright in his surprise, his eyes widening a bit as he processed the statement. He seemed to be trying to seek out some indication that Azrael was not speaking the truth, but seemed to soon give up on finding it to be a lie. He placed a hand on the railing, apparently letting the statement sink in. "Engaged..." he murmured.

Watching as Artemis seemed to be steadying himself, Azrael's brow knit with a great degree of concern--though he did not move forward or encroach on his space any more than necessary in that moment. "Ah, my apologies. I hadn't intended to tell you," he said, though he knew that was incredibly unhelpful.

"Many things have changed since last you knew me, I'm afraid," he said then, his voice a soft and thoughtful murmur; accented still gently with his French.

Artemis released the rail, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair-- which had been left to fall freely down his back and over his shoulders, rather than in its more typical braid.

"Tell me," he replied, the request firm.

Frowning a little bit, Azrael couldn't help the way that he seemed worried. Though there was not much reason for it, and his behavior began to show as much. He smiled, nodded patiently as he thought. "I have become a warlock," he explained. "Absorbed in magic. Training in it," he explained. "I--sought it, there. After I met you. After my own magic had begun to deteriorate and I needed to find a new way to hone it," he murmured. Then he was turning to face Artemis again, to meet his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he said then. "If not cruel, I wager," he added, before he was continuing. "I was taught magic by an Elven sorcerer," he shared. "I do not know what all to explain."

Artemis gave a small nod as he took in the information that Azrael was sharing with him. "This is... a lot to take in," he murmured.

He gave a slight shake of his head, seeming to be trying to clear it. "It has been a century for you?"

"I had imagined it would be. Hence I wasn't going to share it," he added, though that plan had obviously not worked out in his favor. Still, he didn't seem bothered by it--just quietly accepting, observant. He watched Artemis as he stood there, raised his own eyebrows.

"Oui, a century."

Artemis moved to lean on the railing, closing his eyes for a long moment. "Tell me more," he found himself requesting. "How long have we known each other there? How did we meet?" He hoped that more information would help him find a better grasp of this.

"It was after I had returned to my home from this place, though I had no memory of it," he prefaced. Then he was thinking quietly to himself; reflecting upon how much information he not only remembered, but could share. "I met you one night in an alley in Paris," he recollected. "Perhaps eighty, ninety years ago. We have known each other that long," he explained.

Nodding, he took in Azrael's words, remaining silent and thoughtful. A century was not long for either of their kinds, really, but it still felt like a large span of time in relation to how long they had each lived so far. This version of Azrael was twice as old as the one he had known. "I am... well, I'm shocked, really. I don't know what to say."

Stepping toward Artemis, Azrael felt that he was doing a good job at showing an admirable amount of restraint in his interactions with the other man in that moment. He shrugged his shoulders after a second, then let himself glance off once more; expression distant, but still smiling.

"I had anticipated, though perhaps not well enough. I'm sorry, if I've caused problems," he murmured.

Artemis was quiet, then gave a slight shake of his head. "No. I'm glad that you told me. I wouldn't like for this sort of thing to be kept secret."

He turned to face Azrael, meeting his eyes for a long moment before leaning in to press his lips against the vampire's. "I will... get used to the idea."

That had been unanticipated, though perhaps only because Azrael had spent such a great deal of time trying to keep himself from getting his hopes up. He kissed Artemis in return and he was grinning when their lips parted, looking absolutely self-satisfied with the development.

"You know you're not obligated to do anything," he reminded. "I know I was insufferable before."

Artemis pulled back from the kiss to meet Azrael's eyes once more. "To be truthful, the most shocking part is trying to envision myself in a relationship for so long," he found himself admitting. It was not that he had never wanted such a thing; it was simply the way things had worked out in his life thusfar. He had never had the chance to get close to someone and remain that way for any extended period of time, with the exception of family.

"You were not... insufferable. I would not have spent so much time around you if you were."

"I would have said the very same thing about you then," he said quietly, laughing gently as he kept himself from reaching to touch Artemis. He promised himself, as his memories flew back in waves, that he would be as good as he could manage in their current situation without encroaching on Artemis' space uncomfortably.

It was remarkably difficult.

"Of course I was not," he murmured, eyebrows raised. "I believe you entirely."

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❝ no one can blame you for walking away ❞

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