Not Really Anything
It's been so difficult without him. The last time I saw him at the Gates of Hell, he wasn't even himself and the seriousness of the situation fell upon my shoulders like a brick.
I can't find anyone... no one who will help. It's as if no one cares. No one cares that my Zillah is without a soul and trapped in Hell. After everything he did for our friends, they aren't there when he needs them the most.
So I'm going to fix this myself. I have to. There's no other way.
Yesterday was a strange turn of events when I saw him in London. I was surprised to see him, but not really surprised when he barely glanced at me. Not even a glint of recognition in his limey and purpley eyes. It took all I had not to hurl myself at him, so I composed myself, tried to look nonchalant, and sat by the fountain column. I pulled this little trick to capture his attention my sisters and I used to play when we were younger. The engagement ring he gave me still sits close to my person, and because of its size, it reflects light quite nicely. With a little bit of angling and turning, I was able to reflect the light from the sun and water over the square and then into his eyes. He noticed me then, shuffling about, wringing his hands, and looking overly anxious. He approached, obviously not recognizing me, and spilled some information I wasn't ready to accept, but I played it off like I wasn't committed to what he was saying. Apparently he's a slave... or errand boy of sorts. He was delivering a letter to someone I've met recently, and if Zillah were the Zillah I've always known, he wouldn't go within 100 yards of this vampire.
He didn't even know his own name.
Is he that far gone? Is there a point of return?
It's easier for me to play this role. Get the information now, don't ruin it by controlling the situation immediately. I have to know who he is now so I can get him back to who he was. Throughout the encounter, I coyly refused to tell him my name. I want him to remember me like I remember him.
I can't find anyone... no one who will help. It's as if no one cares. No one cares that my Zillah is without a soul and trapped in Hell. After everything he did for our friends, they aren't there when he needs them the most.
So I'm going to fix this myself. I have to. There's no other way.
Yesterday was a strange turn of events when I saw him in London. I was surprised to see him, but not really surprised when he barely glanced at me. Not even a glint of recognition in his limey and purpley eyes. It took all I had not to hurl myself at him, so I composed myself, tried to look nonchalant, and sat by the fountain column. I pulled this little trick to capture his attention my sisters and I used to play when we were younger. The engagement ring he gave me still sits close to my person, and because of its size, it reflects light quite nicely. With a little bit of angling and turning, I was able to reflect the light from the sun and water over the square and then into his eyes. He noticed me then, shuffling about, wringing his hands, and looking overly anxious. He approached, obviously not recognizing me, and spilled some information I wasn't ready to accept, but I played it off like I wasn't committed to what he was saying. Apparently he's a slave... or errand boy of sorts. He was delivering a letter to someone I've met recently, and if Zillah were the Zillah I've always known, he wouldn't go within 100 yards of this vampire.
He didn't even know his own name.
Is he that far gone? Is there a point of return?
It's easier for me to play this role. Get the information now, don't ruin it by controlling the situation immediately. I have to know who he is now so I can get him back to who he was. Throughout the encounter, I coyly refused to tell him my name. I want him to remember me like I remember him.
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