to be always longing {Gwyn}

[Costin Dracula]

No one would ever understand him, Costin lamented, standing at the balcony and looking out at the courtyard below. No one would ever understand how he could have such a keen understanding of immortality, and be utterly powerless to claim it as his own. He had lived beside eternity, the two people who had been closest to him in his entire life had shown him what it was to live without regard for age and time. And to know that, to watch that, that utter devotion to living without regret or question, and be limited by his own mortality...it was possibly the bitterest thing he could imagine.

He held in one hand the crumpled sheet of a letter, some letter from his fathers that he had read and re-read in the hopes that it would reveal something along the lines of Come home, you needn't waste another moment in that place, come home and receive what is rightfully yours...but there was no such assurance, no promises. He had nothing but the increasingly elusive hope that they would realise how much he deserved what he'd been wanting for fifteen years - to be as they were.

The wind breathed a cold chill across his face, and he turned away from it, as if he could look somewhere else and avoid the feeling of it. He didn't want to feel the wind, he didn't want to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, he wanted to taste it. He wanted more senses than those he was limited to, and because he knew they existed, he desired them all the more.

Crushing the piece of paper in his hand, he reached out over the balcony and dropped it out into the emptiness below. Let it blow where it would, he thought.

[Gwyn Locksley]

It just so happened that where the wind decided to blow the balled up letter was right into Gwyn Locksley’s face. She had been on her way back to her dorm after a vigorous bought of swordplay, bundled up in her coat, hat and mitts, when she was so rudely assaulted.

Now considering the time that she called home, she was certainly no stranger to disposing of one’s garbage right out the window, but her time here at Tintagel had started to change her views. She had always loved Sherwood Forest over any other place back home, it was so pure and untouched by anything, and she actually really liked that this school seemed to be very diligent about gathering garbage and food scraps and disposing of it somewhere and someway that it was never seen again.

Rubbing her nose where the corner of the paper had scratched her, Gwyn stooped and picked up the crumpled ball and looked upwards. A lone figure stood upon the balcony above her.

“Excuse me, but I believe you dropped this,” she called out, holding the paper above her head. Might as well be nice to start, she could rant about his disrespect and littering later. Maybe he was new here and didn’t realise that it was no longer okay to just dispose of your trash willy nilly.

[Costin Dracula]

Costin was sullen and rather bad at relating to other people, but he wasn't vindictive. He hadn't been meaning to attack anyone with the useless letter. Honestly, he hadn't known anyone was even in the courtyard, and he was quite surprised when he noticed there was a girl down there, and she was talking to him.

If he was a vampire, people wouldn't be able to sneak up on him like that. Dash it all, why did he have to think things like that? There wasn't even any reason...she hadn't attacked him, it wasn't his last dying regret that "oh, woe is me, if only I were a vampire, I would have lived." The thought just came to mind in spite of his best intentions and by the time he responded, he was trying very hard not to scowl.

"That's quite all right," he said, drawing his shoulders back and trying to stand like the nobility he was. "Thank you very much, but I've no more need for that particular piece of rubbish at all. You may burn it if you like."

He leaned forward onto the rail just a bit, trying to get a better look at her. She looked a little familiar, but that was really all he knew about most of his classmates here. He hadn't bothered to get to know any of them, and only recognised them vaguely when he had to spend time with them.

[Gwyn Locksley]

Gwyn had met people of every class, and eventually it became second nature to distinguish between them just by observing their overall countenance. It was a little more difficult here at Tintagel, since there were so many people from societies, countries and times that were different to her own that they were much harder to read, but she would bet her best sword that this boy was from some sort of upper class family. Prince? Maybe, maybe not, but he was certainly nobility of some sort.

He also had a distinct air of self-importance that she did not appreciate. Maybe she often appeared the exception, rarely carrying herself as she should except in formal situations, but she was nobility as well. She did not dispose of other’s trash upon request.

“If that is the case, then perhaps you should dispose of it properly in one of the school’s many rubbish bins,” she called back, and obvious bite to her words. Compensating for the breeze and the distance, Gwyn proceeded to lob the ball of paper back up at him.

[Costin Dracula]

Oh, for heaven's sake. Was she worried about the paper hitting her in the face, or was she worried about his littering habits? Throwing something in the rubbish bin was not nearly so satisfying as casting something away into the wind...burning it probably would have been equally dramatic, but Costin had been raised with a healthy fear of fire, and wasn't keen on the idea of starting one purposefully.

He saw the paper coming at him, and in a display of what he believed was very promising reflex for a future vampire, reached out a hand and caught it.

"I believe you missed my point," he remarked, uncrumpling the piece of paper and tearing a corner off of it. "I no longer wish to have this letter in my possession. I cast it to the winds, with all the empty promises and platitudes it contains." He threw the little corner into the air to illustrate his point, then tore off another little piece and did the same with it. "Why are you so devoted to rubbish bins, anyway?"

[Gwyn Locksley]

Listening to the guy talk, Gwyn didn’t even try to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Oh, so he was one of those boys; she was pretty sure she had him figured out perfectly. There was a possibility the letter was from an Ex, but she thought it more likely it was from his parents. He hated his parents, and was angry with them for sending him here, and had become one of those... what was the modern term? Elmos? The people that wore all black and whined about their hardships and spouted poetry, like he was pretty much doing right then. Definitely an elmo boy.

“Excuse me for wanting to enjoy a walk without having to look at rubbish laying everywhere,” Gwyn bit back, propping her hands on her hips and glaring up at the boy. She was starting to get a crick in her neck from it and that was only increasing her irritation.

“Besides, wouldn’t it have been more symbolic to burn it? Or rip it to shreds first if you really wanted to ‘cast it to the winds’,” she continued, her tone clearly mocking as she repeated his ‘elmo’ statement. Yes, so he was technically doing that now, but only after she had thrown the paper ball back to him. “Crumpling it up into a ball and throwing it off a balcony is hardly symbolic.”

[Costin Dracula]

She was going to make a fuss out of this, wasn't she? How disappointing, Costin thought, letting another piece of the letter float out into the open air. He had so been hoping to brood here in solitude.

"Lying everywhere, really?" he repeated, skeptically. "I've only got one letter. I could hardly make it 'lie everywhere' even if that were my intention, which it was not. I only wanted to get rid of it in a manner symbolic of my utter distaste for its contents."

If he were a vampire, he could have vaulted over the rail and down into the courtyard. He had seen his fathers perform similar feats numerous times. His situation had not changed since the conversation had begun, though, so he descended in the method any other human being would have done, via the stairs. He did try to go down them in a polished and elegant manner, as any noble would do, though.

"I don't like fire," he told her. "And I do not need you to lecture me on the merits of my chosen method of symbolism. Casting something off of a balcony is as symbolic as I wish it to be. It symbolizes things being cast into the open air, out into nothing, because the person who has cast them there cares so little about them that he will not so much as grace them with a proper disposal."

[Gwyn Locksley]

Well, this guy was just something else. Did he have to take everything she said so completely literally? Yes, he was only discarding one piece of rubbish now, but if every brooding, whining, self-centered person at this school got rid of their rubbish in the same manner then the place would be disgusting. Really, Gwyn had never met so many self-absorbed, self-pitying people in her whole life as she had here in only a few months. It was rather pathetic. Not only that, but they always felt so entitled, like their presence here was some gift to the school, that everyone should be grateful for a single word to fall from their lips in their direction. Even the way he descended the stairs was pompous in manner. Moving her hands from her hips to cross over her chest, Gwyn turned to follow his movements but otherwise stayed put.

“If you cared so little about it why didn’t you just throw it in the rubbish bin in your room? Why carry it the whole way out here so you could dispose of it so symbolically?” Gwyn countered, her tone making it obvious she thought the whole thing was entirely stupid. “The fact that you took the time to think about all this so extensively, and came out here to carry it out only proves that you actually care a great deal about what that letter contains.”

[Costin Dracula]

Costin thought he was being perfectly reasonable. All right, so maybe he was being a little moody, but she was being outrageous. Acting as if he was a serial litterbug just because he'd decided to get rid of one stupid letter. And now she was questioning his motives or some such thing. The nerve.

After jamming the remainder of the torn letter deep into his pocket, he came to stand beside her, folding his own arms across his chest, mirroring her own pose.

"You know nothing of the things I care about," he said, harshly. "You have no idea what that letter even says, or why I'd care or not care about it. Who are you, anyway? Head of the environmentalist club on campus? Perhaps you could start with that lake over in the west quadrant, it reeks of pond scum and organisms that should have gone extinct over a century ago."

He was somewhat disappointed in himself. Discussing the unsanitary conditions of the school's lake was hardly what he'd come out here to do - he had come out here for a specific reason, and being the distractible human that he was, he couldn't even accomplish that without getting sidetracked.

"Do you have parents?" he asked, suddenly. "They're infuriating. Mine are, at least. They talk a lot about listening, and respect, and then they give you none of the same courtesies they expect for themselves."

[Gwyn Locksley]

Well, she had certainly struck a nerve with that one. Had this place been the same when her own parents had attended here? Or was it a flaw in the new generation that all he spoiled, selfish brats have parental issues? It was astounding! Before her father had pretty much single handedly saved England, there had people starving, people being harshly punished for nothing, and so many children left without parents. Maybe some of the kids here had genuine reasons to be upset, but most of them didn’t know true suffering, and most of them would severely regret it if their own parents were suddenly imprisoned or killed.

When the boy approached her, Gwyn tilted her chin up and stood as straight and tall as she could, though he still loomed over her.

“Anything that has survived in that lake for over a century deserves to be left alone. It is obviously very resilient and determined to live,” she shot back in a rather snotty manner. She didn’t even know what she was talking about at this point, all she knew was that this guy was getting on her nerves so if he wanted her to do something then she would argue against it. It was childish, sure, but it was part of her nature.

His sudden shift in topic, though, took her off guard and it showed. She hadn’t expected him to suddenly start sharing his feelings regarding his parents. For a moment she actually had no response.

“Yes, I have parents,” Gwyn said after a moment, her tone somewhat wary. She was actually unsure of how to proceed here. “I am made to act a certain way among company. Wear dresses, speak when spoken to, be polite, basically have no thoughts of my own. My mother is lenient as she was very outspoken herself at my age, but I am mostly expected to act a certain way. But when we were alone my father taught me archery, sword fighting, self defense. So I suppose our parents are very different.”

[Costin Dracula]

Really? Was the universe conspiring against him? Throwing people into his way who were intent on lecturing him for the stupidest offense imaginable...then going on to talk about things that survived for hundreds of years and were thus worthy of life? It was almost too ironic for him to bear without a grimace, and he only just avoided letting his face twist into one. If she only knew the things his fathers had done in their hundreds of years, she probably wouldn't be giving him such grief over a stupid little piece of litter.

"My parents live a life I desire above all else," he told her. Why was he telling her this? Because he hadn't told anyone...no one, at all, ever? Dracula and Tulio knew how he felt. They knew what he wanted, and thus far they had denied him that. But other than the two of them, Costin shared his feelings with no one. It occurred to him at that moment that maybe, just maybe, that was the reason those feelings were eating him up inside, keeping him awake at night and haunting his nightmares when sleep finally found him.

He didn't even elaborate after that, didn't add that he thought it was utterly ridiculous that his parents wouldn't share said life with him. He thought he ought to say something, though...she had given him a bit of detail on her parents, after all.

"I have been educated in self-defense as well," he said, like he was trying to make conversation. (Costin was terrible at conversation.) "I have never attempted archery or sword fighting." No, vampires weren't very keen on having a lot of swords lying around for children to play with...although accidental beheadings were rather unheard of. "I have never been made to wear a dress, though."

The slightest trace of a smile appeared on his lips, without permission or summons, and the world ended.

Well, except for the last part.

[Gwyn Locksley]

Gee, that wasn’t cryptic at all! What life could his parents possibly lead that would not eventually fall to him? Would he not inherit his father’s title? Land? Wealth? Perhaps he had an older brother who stood in line for all this, yet if that was so he probably would have mentioned some animosity toward him as well. It was all rather strange, and Gwyn could not help but be intrigued, though they probably weren’t on asking terms. After all, they had been arguing just moments ago.

Something else that was rather strange. She had been taken aback by his sudden shift in attitude, in how he had suddenly decided to share his issues with her, and that feeling just wasn’t going away the more he talked. Sure, she had shared in return, but Gwyn was pretty much an open book. She had no secrets; if someone wanted to know something about her she told them, and she certainly had no qualms with talking about herself, especially when it was about her skills and achievements. Feelings were a little iffy, though... as were jokes.

This boy wasn’t the only one unaccustomed to making jokes.

Normally, Gwyn tended to lean more toward teasing, or throwing around insults that she found amusing, usually at her brother who usually didn’t even realise he was being insulted. When it came to actual jokes, though, her attempts tended to fall flat.

“That is too bad,” she replied, deciding to try anyways. If he was going to attempt to lighten up, surely she should try to follow suit. “You have a good body for it.”

[Costin Dracula]

Costin seemed to have come full circle, and was once again reflecting on the fact that no one would ever understand him. Other people's parents grounded them, or didn't buy them cars or cell phones. They didn't get to go to parties, or maybe they had to stay home when all of their friends were going out to the movies. They certainly didn't have to live with the knowledge that their parents were going to live forever, and if current trends continued, they'd stay young and glorious forever and watch him grow old and die. And how much could they possibly love him if they were willing to do that? Costin had never deluded himself enough to imagine that Dracula had ever been terribly excited about raising a child, but he was far more attached to Tulio than he would ever admit, and it comforted him on lonely nights (of which there were many, considering how anti-social he was) to think that at least one of his fathers was glad they'd adopted him.

It was complicated, very complicated, and he could not see that anyone who hadn't lived his life would ever be able to wrap their mind around it. You just couldn't explain the concept of being deprived of immortality to kids whose greatest worry was whether they'd get any spending money for the month. Usually he didn't bother trying. When he'd made that little outburst a moment earlier, it had been...a whim, almost like he was trying to verify his own suspicion that nobody would appreciate his situation. She would laugh it off, or pretend she could sympathise, wouldn't she?

But no, she didn't latch onto it and try to do some stupid girly sympathetic thing like apologise for having been so cruel to him in her ignorance of his miserable life. Nor did she lash out at him (that would have been fun, but perhaps now wasn't the best time for a loud argument). She moved right past his little slip-up and on to the terrible joke he'd made, and she actually used it to make one of her own.

Astonishing. Costin didn't know what to do for a moment, and he lifted a hand, rubbing at his left eyebrow in consternation. Well, he could...play along, he supposed, he'd started this after all.

"Do you think so?" he asked, feigning uncertainty. "I've got no hips at all, and I'm afraid you might change your mind if you saw my legs."

[Gwyn Locksley]

There, it was out there and all Gwyn could do now was wait for the insults to begin. The way she saw it, this was going to go one of two ways: he would either a) find her comment insulting and start ranting at her again or b) laugh, but not at the joke itself but at her and just how horrible the joke had been. What she hadn’t expected was that there was an option c: continue the joke.

Huh.

Letting her eyes drift down over his body, she couldn’t actually help but try to imagine him in a dress now that the suggestion was out there. Her forehead scrunching up as she tried to picture it, she found it really wasn’t an attractive picture. He looked much better as he was now, but then she probably wouldn’t find the idea of any boy in a dress very attractive. She didn’t even like wearing dresses herself.

“A lot of girls here seem to wish they had no hips, which is just stupid,” Gwyn replied quite bluntly, her eyes eventually finding his again. She never got why girls were so caught up on looking a certain way. If they had no hips then birthing babies in the future would be more difficult. If they were skinny waif-like then they hardly had the strength to do any of the physical activities that Gwyn took such joy in. Besides, all the focus on image was just silly anyway. Gwyn wore what was comfortable, rarely bothered with any make-up, and she had even cut her hair off at Halloween into the style of her costume instead of bothering with a wig. It would always grow back.

“Dresses are terrible to wear anyway, you’re lucky nobody has tried to make you do so,” she continued, nodding her head matter-of-factly though the whole line of conversation had brought a smile to her face.

[Costin Dracula]

Girls looked at Costin's body on occasion...all of them before they actually met him. Once they'd spoken to him for more than a moment or two, the stopped looking at his body and started looking for an exit. He definitely hadn't ever had one look him over in order to decide what he'd look like in a dress...as far as he knew, anyway. He was surprised to find that she was saying something he agreed with. It was stupid to wish you had no hips. For starters, hips were a uniquely attractive part of the female anatomy if they were shaped right. If they weren't there, you looked...sort of like a man.

And then there was the whole childbearing thing, but Costin hadn't been raised with much of an understanding of that issue, especially since no women had actually been involved in his upbringing. He didn't give much thought to that. And he certainly wasn't going to stand there and agree with her, either, even if he did think she was right. He could hardly disagree with her telling him he was lucky he'd never had to wear dresses, though. Costin could honestly say he had never had the slightest desire to wear a dress, not even as a morbid curiosity. Some things just belonged on women, like oversized hairbows, pink sunglasses, and dresses.

"They might have," he said, petulantly, "If they cared what I wore at all."

Oh, so they were back to that, were they?