Forget Me Not [Tag: Victor/Casual]

[tuna]

"Forget me not my dear, my darling."

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The sky was a marvelous shade of sapphire blue as the sun disappeared behind the trees and night was left to cover the sky. Mary had been unfortunate enough to loose track of time while she spent her day mourning in the cemetery and now had to walk home alone in the dark for her troubles. Today they had unveiled a wonderful, beautiful monument to those that had lost their lives on a day that had fast become ten years ago. But Mary had no interest in a monument. On this day- she wanted to be with him. Or at least as close as she could get.

She'd traveled there in the morning, juggling fresh flowers, a picnic basket, and a small boombox in her skinny little arms. Quietly she found his grave, right where she'd left it, and sat alone there. For about an hour she just sat there. Saying nothing and doing nothing. Just waiting. As though she was giving him an honest chance to come out and tell her this was all a big joke before she went along with it. But nothing came of her waiting, and about mid-day, she finally seemed resigned to the fact that the last ten years of her life hadn't been a lie. Slowly she reached into the picnic basket and began to pull various things from it that all amounted to lunch for herself. And him too. Just in case. Slowly she ate her food, placing the full plate down on the grave.

Those moments it took her take a bite or two seemed to pass so slowly, and in nearly two hours she realized she'd only eaten half of her sandwich. A few people passed by, surely mourning their own loved ones. They seemed to view her with a mixture of pity and embarrassment. And their gazes sent her into movement- gathering up the things she'd laid out, her face red.

She sat there for a while longer, before remembering the boombox. She looked it over, and then looked around to see if anyone else could see her before she hit the play button. The tape deck made a funny noise that gave off the piece of electronics old age, before finally seeming to pick up the song. It came in a bit fuzzy, but just as recognizable as anything. She hummed along softly with the guitar strums until the voices joined in with the beautiful music.

She listened to the song over and over again, until it was nearly dark and she realized she was laying on the ground singing along with the song as loud as she possibly could. Quietly she gathered herself up and headed out just as she came, juggling the impossibly heavy belongings she was carrying. And the darkness was slowly creeping up on her, giving her a case of nerves that couldn't be quieted. Her heels clacked loudly across the pavement as she made her way into the park, a shortcut to home. She felt as though eyes were upon her from nearly every direction, a reaction to the news reports of a mad man killing prostitutes. Terror was quickly wracking her little body. She began to move as fast as she possibly could in an effort to make it out of the park. But the speed and juggling were more than a match for her and before she could even protest she was collapsing in the street, her ankle having rolled underneath her. Her possessions were strewn across the pathway as she struggled to crawl around and find them all.

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STATUS ! Finished
STARRING ! Mary Kelly
COSTUME ! The dress, and the shoes. With white knee high stockings.
GUEST ! Victor
SETTING ! Cemetery and the park
SCRIPT ! 598
LYRICS ! "Forget Me Not" by The Civil Wars
NOTES ! <3

[JACK THE RIPPER]

Ten years was a hell of a long time. Ten years had passed since that day in early Autumn when one minute he was peacefully asleep at his desk, and the next, he was gawking out his window at the immense fireball down the block. The event hadn't touched him, it hadn't disturbed him--in fact, for several weeks after, he was fascinated with it, and must have watched the news six times a day just to see the footage. But there was a certain period of fascination and that had long since tapered off; in light of that simple fact, Victor thought that the inevitable period of mourning would end too.

It had been ten years and people were still thinking about it, every day of their lives. That irritated him in a way that he didn't fully understand. Of course it had been a terrible thing, and it definitely had affected him, seeing as how his office had been essentially in ground-0. He'd lost colleagues--brilliant businessmen some of them-- but they were dead. The emotion that poured from every citizen's words and actions on this tenth anniversary were disconcerting, and his loose handle on them was tiring.

That wasn't to say that he didn't feel anything. Victor pondered just what it was he had felt those first couple of days as he made his way out of the financial district, squeezing swiftly beyond traffic. Anger... there was definitely anger. He loved New York--his city. The bastards had broken the beautiful skyline which he, as a self-proclaimed artist, had always admired. It caused far too much humanity to surface which, admittedly, made him uncomfortable. He loved the city for its smoothness, its anonymity. The anger had died off into acute interest for the following weeks and then ended in a strange sort of respect for the perpetrators. What they'd done was excessive, but the follow-through was spotless.

This he thought about as he parked the car and began to go for his routine walk through Central Park. Beautiful city, wayward people, one man to change it... when it seemed all you had to do to change it was crash a plane into a big building and kill people.

At least he had one of those.

Victor's walk slowed to a stroll as he spotted a small woman far in front of him on the path, and then stopped altogether when he witnessed her tremble and then fold, dropping her things. Her clothing- nice, not too fancy, clean... creased. She didn't wear it often, or it was new, and judging by the style it was several years old. After a few moments of studying her, it became clear that she wasn't going to get up any time soon.

Do what your Bible tells you, Victor... be a good Samaritan.

The only one laughing was his corrupted conscience. He trotted over to the woman and decided to help her up before he went to collect her things. Victor held out an arm for her, his face blank and his jaw tight...

She smelled like a whore.

[tuna]

"Forget me not my dear, my darling."

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She heard the trotting before she saw him. In the darkness came a large, lumbering figure. The trembling started again. All sorts of crazy bogeyman thoughts ran through her head before his face came fully into view. And although she still wasn't sure he was in any way worth her trust- she at least had faith that he wasn't a monster of some sort. In fact, he looked rather nicely dressed. A business man maybe? Or a lawyer? Someone of some importance far higher than her own, but yet someone that ten years ago she maybe have attended dinner parties with. Of course that had been so long ago, she doubted they would look familiar even now.

And as he came closer to her the familiarity faded. He looked down at her and wordlessly extended a hand for her taking. She reached out and placed a soft, slender, fragile hand in his and scrambled to get her feet right underneath her. With his assistance she was able to get to her feet properly, although her ankles shook warningly. She looked at him. He had his jaw set roughly, and his eyes held no proper trace of kindness. He hadn't even spoken. But she stared into his eyes regardless. Almost a defiant move to her impromptu savior. She did this only for mere moments before realizing she was being rude to the possibly dead-inside man who'd just shone her a shred of humane kindness. Her face softened into a soft smile, and she slowly let go of his hand. Her body shook at the movement.

“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, her voice gentle as they were close enough for him to hear. She looked around. The boombox had landed in the grass, ages old D cell batteries were everywhere. And the picnic basket had opened as well, leaving the contents of the mostly uneaten lunch all along the pathway, the basket in ruins. She sighed softly and struggled to take a step. The ankle that had previously rolled underneath protested to the movement, but she forced it anyways. She grimaced in pain and held onto a park bench. Her nails dug firmly into it the rotting wood.

She realized then that she'd been completely mad to wear heels to a graveyard.

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STATUS ! Finished
STARRING ! Mary Kelly
COSTUME ! The dress, and the shoes. With white knee high stockings.
GUEST ! Victor
SETTING ! Cemetery and the park
SCRIPT ! 382
LYRICS ! "Forget Me Not" by The Civil Wars
NOTES ! <3

[JACK THE RIPPER]

As he slowly pulled his hand from hers, he seemed to unravel, and any signs of disdain melted from the sharp angles of his face, gracing it with an almost appreciative smile. The ice-enclosed pupils dilated and something friendly shone in the shallowness of the pits. "Sure," he muttered, looking to the boom box and what former contents had been strewn across the green.

Victor watched her a moment as she struggled to keep herself up in her ridiculous heels, the peach fabric of her dress swaying in warning. As she moved forward, teetering, he frowned at the lack of coverage over her back. He should have seen her coming from a mile away; the wayward birds made themselves known few and far between, but even through an opaque shroud, Jack found them evident. Usually he attributed it to his hypersensitivity.

She made no attempt to shroud it from him or anybody.

Victor followed her to the bench, keeping a good couple feet of distance. His brow furrowed in a look of concern, glancing at her heels again. "You alright?"

The opportunity to get to actually talk to one filled him with a sick sort of glee which he knew he couldn't let surface. It was as if the man's psyche was wired in such a way that he could not look at a woman without imagining her dead, and it was stronger with a woman who, by all rights, was prey. The possibility was just in front of his nose. The game was so teasingly sweet. Ironically, the Ripper planned to do all he could to preserve her.

"You should sit down, okay? I'll get your stuff." Before she could protest, he added, "Just stay right there."

Without question, Victor swept her uneaten lunch back into the basket and set it near her legs, a few curls falling in his face. He worked faster than she would have, had she tried to pick it up all by herself, finally nudging the boom box over to the bench with a foot. A quick glance and he examined the tape which had also popped out in the chaos before putting it back.

"I had a hard day, too," he told her softly as he lined up the batteries, breaking the silence. His tone was knowing; she, like many people, had been visiting the dead. "You shouldn't worry about it," referring to the act of picking up her things, but ultimately referencing her obvious mourning. Finally, Victor slid onto the opposite end of the bench, smoothing out his hair.

[tuna]

"Forget me not my dear, my darling."

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Mary seemed to soften a bit as he finally spoke, and he seemed to be slightly more at ease as well. Slightly more human. She even found his voice, almost comforting. After a long day of talking to herself and hoping someone would talk back, it was to be expected. But she latched onto this in her mind and her heart softened towards the man who'd bothered to show some sort of kindness in the darkness. He was an unusual man, indeed.

As her body threatened to pitch itself forward on the impossible heels, she heard his comforting voice once more. Echoing a concern for her that she hadn't even considered in years. She nodded carefully, but winced once more. At his urging she did finally sit down, opening her mouth and then closing it again as he insisted on helping her. Very suddenly the random man who'd once seemed like a predator in the darkness had become a knight to her.

She watched quietly as he picked everything up quickly and set it back at her feet, smiling softly at him. How strange that a random man should come into her life and start righting her world. She didn't understand it, but she was enjoying the company for the moment. However, her smile faded some as he examined the tape that had been thrown from the deck. The little cassette tape was dreadfully important to her, and watching someone else hold it- someone else scrutinize it made her a bit uncomfortable. But the very thought of snatching it from him made her even more uncomfortable. Was she that far into grieving that she couldn't stand to share any sort of pain with another human being? The thought bit at her.

Deep in thought over her own personal flaw, she almost jumped when he spoke again. She pushed her face into a familiar soft smile as he tried to sympathize. She watched his fingers carefully place the batteries back in the little boombox. Righting more wrongs so easily. Out of anyone else's mouth, his opinion on how to deal with loss would've earned them a rather rough talking to. But instead she just carefully nodded, not meeting his eyes, but staring at his hands.

As he slid in next to her, she finally broke her silence. “It was our wedding music. The tape. It's silly, I know...” she said, trailing off as she thought of a way to explain why she had it. Why she was playing it. None of the reasons she considered made any sense, and the ones that were at least coherent made her sound particularly crazy. But she'd never been one for being terribly self conscious about what others thought of her. “It's still hard to believe he's not coming back. But honestly? I'm not sure I'd want him to come back anymore. I'd be too embarrassed about what I've become to live,” she said, her last words an almost whisper that weren't even meant for his ears in particular. Just something she had been holding in and avoiding admitting for a while.

She reached down and began to rub her ankle, as it still ached even without her weight on it.

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STATUS ! Finished
STARRING ! Mary Kelly
COSTUME ! The dress, and the shoes. With white knee high stockings.
GUEST ! Victor
SETTING ! Cemetery and the park
SCRIPT ! 536
LYRICS ! "Forget Me Not" by The Civil Wars
NOTES ! <3