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Alessandro Salviati, what can I say about him? He's my maker, my tormentor, my...complicated...relation.
Picture this: it's a warm spring evening and you're high on elation. You've just been selected the starting third basemen for the New York Yankees; your life-long dream has finally been realized. One of your teammates invites you out for a celebratory drink and you go because really, what better way to end your night than bellying up to your favorite bar and downing a beer with the boys?
Before you know it, it's two, three o'clock, you're out way past curfew and you know your dad's going to be mad, so you make your excuses and go staggering down the sidewalk. So you're singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game at the top of your lungs and you're a little bit off-key (okay, fine, a lot) but you're not hurting anyone, right? You're just having a good time, enjoying the night, enjoying life in general. So you come across a guy who's dressed a little oddly for the area, he's in a waistcoat and trousers, his hair all slicked back and shiny, you're feeling good and happy and so you shout out a greeting. No harm, right? You're just sharing in your good fortune.
He introduces himself and he's just got the most captivating pair of eyes you've ever seen, so you just stand there and stare at them, all pretty-like and shining in the glow of the street lamps. You feel like you've known this guy your whole life and when he offers to buy you a drink and leads you in the opposite direction of the bar you were just in, you don't really think twice about it because really, he's such a nice guy and you're feeling so good and aw, heck, Dad'll understand if you were out real late carousing. You've got reason to be out all hours of the night! You're a goddamn New York Yankee! And a grown man! You're only living with your parents until you can scrap up enough cash to get your own apartment anyway. You'll go and come as you please!
So you follow the nice guy into the alleyway and oh, huh, suddenly he's kissing your neck. You've never really thought about being with guys before; there are jokes and whispered asides about men in the Navy and what they get up to when they're shipped out at sea, but that only happens in stories, right? And hey, well, maybe you are getting a little excited, a little turned on by him nipping your neck, but that don't mean anything, right? You're just a guy out for the night having some fun, blowing off some steam...
But wait, you're getting kinda drowsy, aren't you? You're feeling kinda weak, and you can barely feel your limbs. You probably ought to sit down, right? Take a break, cool yourself down, catch your breath. You wanna tell him that, ask him nicely to stop, but you can't get your mouth to work properly. You're just stuck, pressed up against the side of a building, your real nice guy going to town on your neck, making these lewd and obscene sucking noises, and everything's getting darker, your vision's starting to blur, the whole world seems sort of dull, and your heartbeat, oh, you can barely feel it.
You're starting to get panicked now and thinking that maybe it was a bad idea to follow this nice man with the hypnotic eyes into the alleyway, but by now, it's too late. You're trapped, and the darkness is creeping further and further into your vision.
Your last thought before the world spirals away into inky blackness is Oh shit. I think I'm dying.
Congratulations. You just got a glimpse into the last night of my life.
But that's not really telling you about Alessandro, is it? In case you haven't guessed, Alessandro was the nice man with the hypnotic eyes that invited me back for another drink. Little did I realize at the time, that was vampire humor. You see, I was the drink, and he didn't just take a little sip. Oh no, he took the whole shebang.
Now, I don't know how it happened. I'm a little fuzzy on all the details and Alessandro doesn't like to talk about it because it's pretty embarrassing for him, but somehow, after I blacked out, another vampire came up and tried to challenge Alessandro for his meal (me). Alessandro was greedy though and wasn't giving me up (I feel like I should be flattered or something) so they fought. His arm got ripped off, some of the blood splattered, I swallowed it.
I don't know. Like I said, the details are fuzzy. All I remember is being so hungry and in so much pain and something smelling really, really good, like better than Grandma's apple pie good, and I just had to have it. It was bitter and kinda coppery tasting at first, but oh man, did I go to town on it once it settled in.
That's still not really telling you about Alessandro though, is it? Honestly, to this day, over ninty years later, he's still an enigma to me. He's proud, arrogant, aristocratic. He's handsome, and believe you me, he knows it. He's old-fashioned, he's elegance, he's Old World. He's got a temper, he's infuriating, he's annoying, he's an ass. He's sexual, he's raw and passionate, he's...
Really, really...
I hate him. Very much.
...
Okay, maybe only a little.
...
Fine, maybe not at all... See? Complicated.
Days 5 & 6
Picture this: it's a warm spring evening and you're high on elation. You've just been selected the starting third basemen for the New York Yankees; your life-long dream has finally been realized. One of your teammates invites you out for a celebratory drink and you go because really, what better way to end your night than bellying up to your favorite bar and downing a beer with the boys?
Before you know it, it's two, three o'clock, you're out way past curfew and you know your dad's going to be mad, so you make your excuses and go staggering down the sidewalk. So you're singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game at the top of your lungs and you're a little bit off-key (okay, fine, a lot) but you're not hurting anyone, right? You're just having a good time, enjoying the night, enjoying life in general. So you come across a guy who's dressed a little oddly for the area, he's in a waistcoat and trousers, his hair all slicked back and shiny, you're feeling good and happy and so you shout out a greeting. No harm, right? You're just sharing in your good fortune.
He introduces himself and he's just got the most captivating pair of eyes you've ever seen, so you just stand there and stare at them, all pretty-like and shining in the glow of the street lamps. You feel like you've known this guy your whole life and when he offers to buy you a drink and leads you in the opposite direction of the bar you were just in, you don't really think twice about it because really, he's such a nice guy and you're feeling so good and aw, heck, Dad'll understand if you were out real late carousing. You've got reason to be out all hours of the night! You're a goddamn New York Yankee! And a grown man! You're only living with your parents until you can scrap up enough cash to get your own apartment anyway. You'll go and come as you please!

But wait, you're getting kinda drowsy, aren't you? You're feeling kinda weak, and you can barely feel your limbs. You probably ought to sit down, right? Take a break, cool yourself down, catch your breath. You wanna tell him that, ask him nicely to stop, but you can't get your mouth to work properly. You're just stuck, pressed up against the side of a building, your real nice guy going to town on your neck, making these lewd and obscene sucking noises, and everything's getting darker, your vision's starting to blur, the whole world seems sort of dull, and your heartbeat, oh, you can barely feel it.
You're starting to get panicked now and thinking that maybe it was a bad idea to follow this nice man with the hypnotic eyes into the alleyway, but by now, it's too late. You're trapped, and the darkness is creeping further and further into your vision.
Your last thought before the world spirals away into inky blackness is Oh shit. I think I'm dying.
Congratulations. You just got a glimpse into the last night of my life.
But that's not really telling you about Alessandro, is it? In case you haven't guessed, Alessandro was the nice man with the hypnotic eyes that invited me back for another drink. Little did I realize at the time, that was vampire humor. You see, I was the drink, and he didn't just take a little sip. Oh no, he took the whole shebang.
Now, I don't know how it happened. I'm a little fuzzy on all the details and Alessandro doesn't like to talk about it because it's pretty embarrassing for him, but somehow, after I blacked out, another vampire came up and tried to challenge Alessandro for his meal (me). Alessandro was greedy though and wasn't giving me up (I feel like I should be flattered or something) so they fought. His arm got ripped off, some of the blood splattered, I swallowed it.
I don't know. Like I said, the details are fuzzy. All I remember is being so hungry and in so much pain and something smelling really, really good, like better than Grandma's apple pie good, and I just had to have it. It was bitter and kinda coppery tasting at first, but oh man, did I go to town on it once it settled in.
That's still not really telling you about Alessandro though, is it? Honestly, to this day, over ninty years later, he's still an enigma to me. He's proud, arrogant, aristocratic. He's handsome, and believe you me, he knows it. He's old-fashioned, he's elegance, he's Old World. He's got a temper, he's infuriating, he's annoying, he's an ass. He's sexual, he's raw and passionate, he's...
Really, really...
I hate him. Very much.
...
Okay, maybe only a little.
...
Fine, maybe not at all... See? Complicated.
Days 5 & 6
ONLY IF YOU IGNORE THESE.
10/10/11 17:20 (UTC)Heheh, fair enough!
10/10/11 17:23 (UTC)