What's Lost Will Be Found (Darian)

[mollywilder]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] She Wants To Be Found ( WORDS ) 651 ( TAGGED ) Darian ( OUTFIT ) Here Winter was coming. Molly could feel the crisp, cold air on her skin. The seasons were changing, the leaves turning colors before they fell to the ground. The hustle and bustle of people floated down the alley. She could hear bags rustling together, the scent of new clothes and gifts from people getting an early start on their shopping. The little vampire shivered, the alley acting as a wind tunnel. The cool wind bit into her skin through her thin hoodie. All she wore beneath it was a torn shirt, old blood stains still on it, and a pair of jeans circa 2011. Even her shoes were an old pair of converse with holes in the soles from wear. Dominic hadn’t much cared how worn or dirty her clothing got. He never replaced them. He had taken her journal and shredded it in front of her, burning the stories she had written so long ago. It seemed like another lifetime now. The world had moved on while she’d been a prisoner in an old house that the nest lived in. Twenty four years later and everything had changed. The buildings, the fashion, the people. Molly knew no one. Her family was still alive, parents well into their sixties by now, and they had another child. A boy, one who was married with children of his own. Even if Molly wanted to, she couldn’t go home looking like she had when she disappeared. She was alone. Turning her face, Molly felt the sun on her cheek. It irritated the milky skin, making her wince, before hiding her face deeper within the hood. She would have preferred to stick to the forests, but it would be too easy for Dominic and his broad to find her there. Not enough to conceal her scent. Here, amidst the city, it would be much, much harder. It was harder to find food here, though Molly often went days without feeding. She was punishing herself, inflicting hunger pangs and making herself weak as penance for the crimes she’d committed. Though she had no desire to, and Dominic had forced her, well, it was still her hand that had done the deed. When the pain became too much she would often find a rat or possum, cringing at the thought of taking their life, and instead only taking enough to take the edge off. Sniffling she got up, intent on moving farther into the alley, behind a dumpster that would shield her from the icy wind. This was her life now, so it had become. Darian was gone. If he were alive, he would have come for her. Molly knew that. He had been her closest friend, so the explosion that sent this sequence of events into motion must have killed him. Even now thinking about it made her heart ache. Sliding down the dirty brick wall, she pulled her legs up, hugging them tightly. She buried her face in the crook of her knees. Molly had to do something, though she wasn’t sure what. Self sufficiency had never quite been her strong suit. Naive to the world she lived in, it had been Darian who took care of her. Now, in a brand new world, one where she was just as naive, Molly had no one. She was simply lost. A rustling jerked her head up, the sun bright to her sensitive green eyes. Using her nose, Molly took a deep breath, eyes widening at the scents that were so familiar.<p> It can’t be. Tentatively the little vampire leaned forward, her long blond hair falling from the hood that was concealing it as she looked around the edge of the dumpster. Heart racing she wondered if the sight she was taking in was a trick of her mind, if she was going mad, or if quite possibly, if what she was seeing was real. any and all notes can go here

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Darian Raniari]

It was amazing how fast everything had simply crumbled around him.

First Mac had vanished, no doubt a casualty of his last, climactic battle against his brother. He'd spent months searching for her, spending every waking moment on the hunt, refusing to give up and leave her alone on the streets. Unfortunately, the means of his search were suddenly torn away from him...

There was a new hunter behind the "Sastre Quicksilver" name, a blonde woman who he knew only from second hand reports and distant, blurry photographs. Who she was and where she'd come from Darian didn't know, but she was clever, shrewd, and undeniably dangerous. Not only had she set into motion a series of events that had stripped him of his wealth, his companies, and his jet, but she always kept her distance, working through agents and proxies to bring him down so that he never got close enough to catch her scent, or to memorize her features.

For all intents and purposes, she was a ghost...

Once he'd lost his jet and resources, Darian had found himself back on the streets, wandering aimlessly and falling back into his old, animalistic mindset. The madness that he'd struggled with since the death of his mate came rushing back to the fore, and rather than fight against it any longer, he embraced it. He was a monster, through and through, and would be damned if he hid that any longer.

If he couldn't make the new Sastre pay... If he couldn't make his brother pay... then he'd take that out on everyone else instead. Anyone who crossed Darian's path became just another meal if they were lucky, or a tortured, broken victim if they weren't. From every person he killed, he took whatever he could: clothing, money, valuables, anything that would help him continue living, and anything that he could use to slowly start rebuilding his empire.

Someday he'd have it all back, and when he did, Sastre Quicksilver would pay. The feud between them was far, far from over, after all; thought he players may have changed, the game remained the same: Sastre would die by his hand.

Staggering down a narrow, dirty alleyway, Darian clenched his eyes shut against the cruel son that bore down upon him. He'd been so lost in his thoughts of revenge and madness that daylight had come upon him and caught him unaware. Even now, though his skin burned in the golden light, the voices that seemed to have plagued him these past few months wouldn't cease their endless chattering in his mind.

Never one to be called "sane," this new Sastre's handiwork had swept away any sanity that he'd once possessed. The strength that he'd had to cling to that small sliver of humanity that he still had was crushed and gone, and the voices and hallucinations that had begun assailing him were now vividly real...

Particularly the one he was seeing now through eyes squinted against the sun...

Mac... No, not Mac... someone else...

His mind was awash with old memories, some buried so deeply that he'd nearly forgotten them. But from this morass of dark, painful, mad recognition, a single face stood out... A single name formed on his lips...

"Molly..."

[mollywilder]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] She Wants To Be Found ( WORDS ) 345 ( TAGGED ) Darian ( OUTFIT ) Here When he said her name, Molly scurried back, peeking around the dumpster to steal glimpses of him. A mixture of fear, disbelief, and the shyness that had always been a part of the little vampire had her heart pounding wildly in her chest. It was thick and tangible in the air as she stole another look at him. He looked and smelled the same, though maybe not as clean. His hair was dark and shaggy falling into wild eyes. It was a face she knew well. One that Molly had pictured often during her imprisonment. She often had conversations with him in her head, trying to keep herself sane, to keep herself grounded. For a moment she wondered if her dreams had manifested into reality – or if she was simply going insane. A dainty, pale hand pressed into the jagged concrete of the alley. The pain dug into her skin, but she ignored it. Learning to tune out pain has always been hard for Molly, but she had endured so much over the last several years, that small pains like this were easy to push away. Especially when her eyes were beholding the one it lingered on. Molly tried to say something a few times, but no words came from her lips. She sat there, huddled on the ground next to a dumpster her mouth working like a fish out of water. Her first instinct was to run up and hug him, but what if it was a trick? What if she’d been found again? Was there a way to make something like this happen? Molly had missed so much. Though if this man, this vampire standing before her really was Darian – then why had he never come for her? He’d always promised he would. Everything was chaos the day the jet exploded. When Darian didn’t come, Molly assumed he had been killed in the explosion. Only here he was now, standing in front of her. “Did I do something bad?” It was quiet, pained, and curious. It was the first question that came to mind, because if she’d been good – wouldn’t Darian have come for her? She averted her green eyes to the ground, pulling her hand – the palm now dented from the concrete – to her chest, willing an invisible pain to go away. any and all notes can go here

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Darian Raniari]

This wasn't real... couldn't be real...

But there she was, plain as day, huddled beside the dumpster and staring at him with those same large, bright eyes that he remembered. How many years had he tried to rid his mind of those eyes, of that face? How deeply buried had all of his memories of their time together been?

God, she looked so real...

But hadn't all of the others as well?

More than once he could have sworn that he'd seen Mac scurrying about in a crowd, only to have his heart broken when he realized it'd only been an hallucination. And Mac wasn't the only one, either: Florian in his youth, their friend Julien, Lily--her eyes cold and accusing--and worst of all...

Abrielle.

His love, his mate... He couldn't even count the number of times that he'd seen her over the past year, the number of times that she'd come to him in waking dreams. Her touch--the same that had once been soothing and warm--was more like torture now, and the kind words that she offered were like knives piercing his heart. Always it was just an illusion, just his mind and his madness... But every time he hoped just a little that it was real.

So no, this wasn't Molly. It couldn't be Molly. He was slipping further and further into the madness that had become his life. But no, this was different, wasn't it? There was a scent here, one that he recalled from decades earlier, and Molly had a... a solidity that the others had lacked, didn't she?

Slowly he crept forward, eyes still wide with disbelief. It occurred to him that this could be a trap, something set up by the new, sly Sastre Quicksilver, but he wasn't entirely sure he cared any more. And if this was real, if this was Molly, then...

Then what, really? He didn't know, but he had to find out.

"No... No, you're dead... He killed you..."

[mollywilder]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #af9390 solid; border-bottom: 10px #af9390 solid;] She Wants To Be Found ( WORDS ) 445 ( TAGGED ) Darian ( OUTFIT ) Here Molly stayed tucked into her nook, too scared to slip out and wrap her arms around Darian. God how she wanted too, how she’d missed him. He’d been her best friend, always watching out for her, promising he’d help her find the cure to the vampirism. Only now that wasn’t possible. Now she was forever a vampire. There was no going back, not anymore. She would always be this, never human, always cold. Darian’s face, the look in his eyes – there was something different now. Darian was darker, he was lost. Molly knew him well enough to know that. When he said that she was dead, Molly blinked, the pieces of the puzzles sliding together. She blinked back tears, a mixture of both joy and sadness. Shaking her head she said, “No, Darian. No. I…I survived the jet explosion. I…I w..went b..back to search f..for y..you.” Molly hugged her knees tight to her chest. She didn’t want Darian to know what happened to her. Not really. He’d look at her differently. Darian hated other vampires, Molly knew that. He always had. He’d despised what he was, and maybe in Molly he saw a way to help someone not have to endure the same fate he had. The littlest vampires fate had been much different. Not worse, though the pain was just as excruciating. Her small form shivered and she tried to hide herself in the little nook she had found. “They f..found me and t..took m..me. T..the o..one w..who t..turned me.” A tear slid down her cheek. Darian had thought she was dead. Molly had thought he was. No wonder they had never found each other. Both had given up that the was alive. It had been Darian’s memory that kept Molly alive. The ones where they laughed and smiled, just enjoying the night together. They were never mates, but they were friends. Maybe he had been the only true friend she’d had when she was turned. He’d helped her so much. Maybe that was why she turned to his memory when she had been raped and forced to feed on humans. Darian was the only thing that kept her going and if she had known he was alive, she would have escaped when she had the chance the first time. Molly realized how stupid she was to have gone back, but she thought there was nothing left for her in this world. Not being able to stand it anymore, she stood up and threw herself into Darian’s arms, breathing in his scent, holding him tight, not wanting to let go. “I..I thought y..you w..were d..dead. I t..thought t..that’s w..why you d…didn’t come f..for m…me.” any and all notes can go here

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[Darian Raniari]

The solidity of her small body as she threw herself into his arms ultimately sold Darian on the fact that she was real.

He blinked, honestly unsure of what to do when she held so tightly to him. His arms her slightly extended out away from him, as if he wanted to return her embrace, but just couldn't. There was a part of Darian that still couldn't believe this, even though the body pressed against his was undoubtedly real, and the scent that filled his nostrils was painfully familiar.

But showing any kind of affection was an alien thing for Darian. It'd been years since he'd really, truly felt anything for anyone, other than pure, total hate. Hate was what kept him going, what motivated him, and what nourished him as surely as blood did.

Did he even have room for anything else in his heart any more?

"Molly..." It was all he could do, speaking her name. "Molly, Molly..."

Hesitantly his arms closed around her, one arm around the middle of her back and the other resting his hand in her hair. Contact was made for the briefest of seconds before his arms pulled away again. He was afraid to touch her, really. Afraid that doing so would somehow break her, shatter her, make her go away... And then he'd be alone again, and he'd realize this was all just in his head.

Just like all the others...