Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

[Lisa Marie Chamberlain]

It was a darker night outside but within her home it was warm; so much so that the contrast of temperatures was evident on the windows of her ‘townhome’, which was just her affectionate term for her four-floored home. Temporary. It had a basement, the ground floor, two flights of stairs to the second floor, two more flights of stairs to the third floor but an operational, historically accurate birdcage elevator of black and scratchless glass that would take one to the attic, the floors below, and therein. Tonight, it sat on the ground floor, not far from the small lobby of her building; normally the door was locked. That? Rested in the center of the flights of stairs but was nearly flush to each floor it carried its passengers too; aside from a 3-centimeter gap.

This time, it wasn’t, as Lisa passed by the call button that would summon the elevator up, on the second floor, walking back to her bedroom.

The sun had set earlier than usual tonight, or so it seemed, but then again everything and nothing seemed to be its normal way after she killed a whole liter of Everclear. She had felt in the mood to drink, and as she set the nearly empty bottle down with just a swig left, on a nightstand, she walked across the room to a chair not too far in front of a fireplace, sitting down in her slinky, black satin nightgown and stared into the fire. She smiled into the flames, warming her and her room to make up for the lack of circulation within her blood. She had put on black lipstick and raised her hand, chuckling drunkenly into her curled, mocha fingers with their dark reddish-brown painted nails. She had gained some courage from the liquor and had texted Xander, who had given her his cell phone number, and she kept it mysterious and short. She sent her address first and then the following:

[ If you’re free, come over. I’ve been waiting, so I’ll leave the door unlocked. ]

Now she need only wait to see if the other immortal would show as she pulled her lips back enough to make her smile look more sinister than playful, her straight, perfect, routinely-whitened teeth almost intimidating the flames slowly lowering in the fireplace before her.

[Xander]

Xander glanced at the text message. He had been in the middle of a training session with some of the support types. Just because they didnt go on active Hunts often, didnt mean they could just not train. He had been particularly harsh on Wolfe. The idiot was all too keen on jumping into combat, but was constantly hiding when it came to training for combat.

The Dire Wolf Shifter was still shooting him death glares from across the room.

Xander walked out of the training hall, and down to his car. The 1954 Ford Galaxy 500 was his pride. He had been gifted the vehicle by Henry Ford's son, as a special thanks for helping the inventor overcome a few obstacles in his engine designs. Xander had had to fake his death not long after, but he had kept the car.

He rolled to a stop outside the address. The rational part of him said this was a bad idea. The irrational part of his mind was, as the kids would say, saying 'Haha, brain go BRRRRR'. He did get that right, didnt he? Ah well.

Worst case scenario, the assistant/apprentice tried to eat him, and he had to fight his way out. Best scenario...well, he wasnt actually sure. By the way the text was worded, he suspected alcohol was involved in this meeting, whcih for him, was a nobrainer.

He carefully entered, impressed at the size and condition of the building. He let out a soft, but firm "H'Lo?" and waited for a response.

[Lisa Marie Chamberlain]

A shadow moved on the bed behind Lisa and she didn’t even bother to glance over, “Your little human is here.” A dark voice said unhappily and somewhat begrudgingly, and Lisa got to her feet, almost stumbling out of her chair, and pattered towards the stairs- “Shall I-'' She shot the being a sharp look, “...Hn.” The being said as it rose from the bed and she left the room, looking down and hearing the door open. Xander voiced, “H’Lo?”

“Yes- Oh, the elevator works, lest you wish to take the stairs to the second floor, Xander?” She asked as her apprentice stood in the room, watching her, before she pulled away from the stairs and moved back into the room.

“I know that I insisted on you finding a few immortals, however… I am wary.” Her apprentice voiced and she shot him another sharp look,

“No, you aren’t. You’re unhappy I actually found an immortal and hoped I wouldn’t.” Lisa said and the apprentice frowned and they moodily turned from her, moving towards the window to the back of the room, opening it and clenching their teeth a moment, but before they could try to say her she said firmly, “Tomorrow.” A warning for him to watch it and he left out the window, taking a more comfortable and his natural form, out of sight of the window and used a claw to shut the window behind him before vanishing completely. Lisa, during this, had gone to a dresser and opened a perfume bottle, tapping a half a drop in the insides of her wrists and behind her ears, before moving towards the hallway again and flipped a switch so that the sconces along the stairwell walls warmed and illuminated the stairwell with soft, warm orange light

[Xander]

Xander sighed. One thing he had never really adapted to, was elevators. Not that he couldnt use them, he just didnt like being enclosed in a metal, or in this case metal and glass, box that was held by little more than fancy string. He chose the stairs and his way towards where he had heard her voice.

He reached the level with the glowing sconces and gave a small wry smile, guess he was at the correct location. He spotted Lisa at the end of the hall, and made his way there slowly. He still didnt sense anything dangerous from her, but one could never be too careful.

Besides, alcohol and confident women was often a recipe for disaster, in his experience. If he didnt heal so well, he would probably have scars, especially from that Hell Hound.

[Lisa Marie Chamberlain]

The elevator hadn’t moved but she could hear him walking up the stairs, and pulled some of her hair forward and over her shoulder. Earlier in the evening before she was drinking, she had been typing out and deleting messages to send to him, while she was adorned in her jewelry. But once she had warmed up a bit from the liquor, she had taken her earrings, rings, bracelets and necklaces off and opted to be more ‘bare’.

As Xander came up the stairs still, she wondered what she should say. Her mind wandered to phrases caught between ‘How was your day’ and ‘have you killed anyone today?’ Those were not appropriate. She had sent the summons and he had answered as although she could have texted him without drinking, she had done the opposite. Now, as he hit the landing, and gave her a half-smirk, she found herself more… distractingly enchanted.

Maybe it was the lighting, perhaps it was the addition of the alcohol softly fuzzing the rounded edges of her view but by the gods was he more attractive than usual. She found herself wondering how his hair would feel against her but as she had an overwhelming urge to run her nails through it, she instead combed her nails through the strand of jet black, straight hair she had pulled over her shoulder as the rest fell down and came to her mid-back,

“Thank you for coming. Did you have difficulty finding your way here?” She asked as she fought against amorew lewd and outlandish ask of Xander.

[Xander]

Xander shook his head. Perhaps, when he was younger, he would have found this situation compromising. Now he just found it funny. After all, he was old enough, and certainly had been...promiscuous enough that there was a good chance the 2-5% of Neanderthal DNA found in modern humans of European and Asian descent, could well be from him.

"Can i ask you, how much you had to drink, before i make any...ungentlemanly decisions?" for one, he was still sweaty from the training session. Beyond that, he also had a set of personal morals he adhered to. One of them being, no funny business until the third date. Two meetings in a morgue, did not a date make.

[Lisa Marie Chamberlain]

Lisa chuckled and walked into her room, going to the nightstand and picked up the liter liquor bottle of Everclear, which was almost empty, “A lot for a human, I presume.” She voiced as she showed off the bottle with only a shot’s worth left in it. “This was full perhaps a couple hours ago.” She advised before setting the bottle back down,

“I wrote, deleted and rewrote that message to you perhaps a dozen times and the one I sent seemed the more appropriate of the bunch.” Lisa said, “I hope you do not think less of me because I required a little liquid courage myself, to invite you over.” She voiced, before walking towards the chair once more,

“Would you care to share a bit of absinthe with me, Mr. Xander? Unless you have other obligations.”

[Xander]

Xander rolled his shoulders. "I'll refrain from the drinking, as i do need to work in the morning. However, i will gladly take your invitation to spend the evening in your company."

He would put a stop to things if, they progressed too quickly. After all, he was not so uncouth as to bring up the subject, before it had come up in the course of proper conversation. He followed her to the room, choosing to lean against the door frame.

"So. I'd like to hear more about you. Know you better. We can do it on a barter system. I will tell you a story from my life, in exchange for a story from your life. You talk about a past companion, and i will reply in kind. A Story of a battle, fight, or conquest, and you will get one in return. Share only what you feel comfortable with."

[Lisa Marie Chamberlain]

It made her happy that Xander said he would gladly take her up on the offer of spending the rest of the night in her company. It tickled her and pleased her greatly. She still went towards the fire where two oversized, chocolate-colored suede chairs were, and though she had been sitting in the one directly across from the fireplace, she gestured to the one next to it to let him know it was open. It would vastly be more comfortable than leaning up against the doorframe looking about as appealing as the initial thoughts of the Trojan Horse upon Troy’s doorstep.

“Well you have found me in a very pliable and comfortable state, Xander; and I very much agree on it that offered barter system.” She voiced as she went to the chair she was previously occupying, picking up a folded blanket from the small sofa table next to her chair, and she unfolded the pale ivory sherpa blanket, then sat down and put the blanket in her lap,

“I am not much in a position to ask questions; perhaps you should start?”

[Xander]

Xander moved to the chair, and settled into it, pausing briefly he decided rather than asking a question, he would share something.

"Dont panic, we are about to enter a sort of virtual reality space, or a sub dimension if you. Its one of the powers that keep me alive." He flicked his hand, he didnt need to do it, but he always liked using visual indicators for his power usage.

The air seemed to ripple, as if the air were boiling hot and humid, the room vanished, and was replaced by the walls of a large cave. The walls were covered with animal hides, some painted with crude figures, others simply allowing the natural fur to reign supreme.

"This is the cave where i was born. It is now buried under a glacier in what we call Siberia. Those hides were from animals my father hunted." As he spoke two figures walked into the cave. they did not speak, and their expressions were flat, showing they were not people. They were no more alive than a lump of clay in a potters shop. Gesturing to them Xander smiled softly.

"My mother," He said waving at the 4'9", black haired, milk coffee colored woman. While she was clearly a 'modern' human, she also had that primitive, stunted look. She did not however, look the way many portrayed early Sapiens. Her body was thicker, with more hair along the arms and neck, and her back was less hunched, while also more curved. "She was kicked out of her tribe because she was different. That was when she met my father."

He nodded to the male figure. Almost the same height as him, at a little over 5'7". The thighs were longer than the shins by more than half, but the forearms were thicker than would be considered 'normal' for a modern sapien of the same proportions. the large forehead, and the scarred chest added to the clear idea, that this was a Neanderthal. One with Red Hair, and deep blue eyes.

"Tell me about where you grew up, when you were still human. How you became a Lich. In return, i will tell you about how i came to wander the world, watching my mother's people spread like a plague of invasive flowers. Beautiful in their cruelty."

[Lisa Marie Chamberlain]

Lisa smiled as he took a seat and quietly sat by as he began it with a flick of his hand- then the room began to change. It was a disheartening feeling to be sobered by a motion but she wouldn’t have wanted to be sobered by anything else given the circumstances. She was surprised and pleased to be clear-minded by the imagery of his mother and father. She found his mother beautiful in her own way and his father strong and they both looked capable. Lisa smiled; she loved the detail he put into his description and how the image looked.

It must have been hard on him for being alone so long, however; there were days it was hard on her.

“I…” Where to begin?

Did she speak of her upbringing, first? Was she to speak of Mama Chamberlain and how she was involved yet distant with her family outside of her intense bond with Papa Chamberlain, who loved his daughters and the ground they walked on but beat his sons black and blue for living and for any trouble his daughters fell into? Was she to tell him how she lived in silent fear of Papa Chamberlain growing bored of hitting his sons and instead, turning the abuse onto her or her sisters?

Was Lisa to speak of the flicker of sorrow that leads to the great bonfire of relief when her family died? Or how she gave to panic and ran around looking for her apprentice to ensure that the one sliver of happiness she had found still thrived and lived?

“I was born in Constantinople, around what is called 722 AD. I am the only one of twelve that remains.” She said slowly as she looked at Xander, “...When… In 740 AD, an earthquake ripped through the country, so fierce that waters receded so far from the coastal towns, that when they returned? They flooded the very towns they had so long lived in harmony with. Some parts of the walls came down and my family estate was beneath one such portion. I had run away from home the night before and was making my way back during everything. I found myself an orphan when I returned home, and I buried the bodies of my family.”

“My lichdom was… a moment of bitter pettiness brought on by emotional vengeance against my first husband, Claudius, who was a witch.” Lisa said, “And a cheating bastard. Did you know, by the time he was dead, he had over a hundred other women besides me?” She pushed the blanket aside and got to her feet, walking around the chair and towards the west side of the room where a large, ornate and locked cabinet of dark wood and stained glass-with-lead-lining windows rested. She opened the glass doors of the cabinet to reveal bottles and bottles of wines and liquors, nothing newer than 1945 in the space and she reached in, moving some aside, and pulled out a whisky bottle. Old Elgin 1940, read the tired but well-maintained paper label, and she broke the seal, pulling a glass from the cabinet too, filled it three-fingers high, and put the cap back on.

“My beloved Claudius, who I had been with ten years before his death, had twenty-six wives, thirteen mistresses, four girlfriends, and eighty-nine children. All of which I didn’t know of until one of his wives pulled me aside in a market and told me she and Claudius had been married for twelve years and even had sex on our wedding night.” Lisa said and had a swig of her liquor before shutting the cabinet after returning the bottle to it, “That number does not include those who were pregnant which were in the dozens.”

“He… has eighty-nine children, when I couldn’t even bear one.” Lisa said sadly as she went back to her chair, “How much deeper of a blow could a man do to a woman he vowed to cherish- near the end, it was almost like he was mocking me; ‘look how many I can have and you can’t even carry one to the full term’.” She said as she sat back down,

“I tricked him one night; he was open with only me about his occult dealings. I asked him for a way for the both of us to be together for eternity and he advised me of the curse. I would be a lich, sure; but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about good or evil; I just wanted Claudius to lose in the worst of ways. I wanted him to lose like how I had lost and miscarried every child I tried to give him.” She took a deep breath, “I woke up after my death first; I made a big scene about his, make a speedy funeral, and that night, went back to his grave; it looked like he was beginning to wake up. So I burned him- dead or undead, I don’t know to this day if he was or wasn’t, but as he burned I felt justified in my rage. I took his life and his little black book of occult spells, curses, and whatnot; and I sit before you now, tired of my age and ashamed of my reactions… but if I had the chance to do it again if I was that woman once more? I would have done it twice.”

[Xander]

Xander listened. He didnt judge, he had no right to. He let her finish and nodded, eyes closed.

"Pain, grief. In the tens of thousands of years i have stumbled around this earth, the one thing that has remained constant, is the human reaction to these feelings. Like a bear with a spear lodged in its hide, our reaction to this pain, the pain of betrayal, of a broken heart, is anger. Sometimes it, flashes, like lightning in the dark, stark, immediate, terrifying in its abruptness. Other times, it is slow, smoldering, waiting for the right fodder to come along and set the embers to a roaring, all consuming blaze."

He settled himself, nodding to the far wall of the cave. The wall shimmered, and opened, to reveal a wall holding the statue like magical clones of his mother's people, plus many many more. The twin rows of statues extended beyond sight.

"The lives i have taken in anger, number so high, i have long since lost count. In truth, your actions may seem evil, but when viewed from a different perspective, a different life, it is no more evil than the hound who bites the hands of strangers, after being kicked and beaten. We each carry our burdens, and to each of us, our burden is the heaviest. but we find that carrying the burdens of others, is no great task at all, for their burdens are weightless on our shoulders, yet as we take on some of theirs, they feel as if a great deal of weight has been removed."

He held up a hand, and from the shadows, magical clones of a pair of small children stepped forward. Expressions frozen in a look of confusion and horror.

"My Children. My Sweet and precious children. I was already older than civilization. Their mother was beautiful, to me. To others, she bore the scars of having survived a terrible fire, one blamed on the anger of the Gods. Her strength drew me in. But then she died giving birth to a third child. The child did not survive. My Little Mikael and my little Annette. My grief consumed me, and turned to rage, and then terror. My children would grow up, grow old, and die before my eyes, while i stayed young, healthy."

He looked at Lisa.

"I was so consumed by the fear of watching grow ill and die, i killed them, with my own hands. I never forgave myself. One moment, i was weeping for the one i loved, the next, i was holding the limp bodies of my children. We all bear our sins, Lisa. I have fathered countless children, who all grew up, grew old, died from various causes. But the thought of these two, going the same way, was more than i could handle. For some reason, these two were different. I do what i do now, to make up for the ones i have wronged, the evils i have done. We all live for this reason. To do wrong, and right our wrongs. It is up to us to choose to do this, no one forces us, but we are compelled by it."

Xander ran his hands through his hair. He had never discussed his children, or Jeanne to anyone. It was 1256, in what would one day become a massive vineyard for a type of sparkling wine that would become a status symbol. He had planted those first grape vines. Taught the locals how to harvest and ferment the fruit using a natural carbonated spring.

He reached for the bottle that sat on the table between them and put the neck to his lips, tilting it up and back. this was no swig. This was an immortal trying to kill himself with alcohol.

[Lisa Marie Chamberlain]

Lisa listened and a strange forlorn feeling wafted into her mind, her core, her heart even perhaps. She had been painted in the hundred of years she had been alive with her own regret and sadness, but could she have endured the many more that he had lived with that same swarm of emotions? Lisa watched the illusion he made; the two initial children. The imagery of hundreds more. Even for someone with muted emotions, she could feel the painful realization that he would always end up watching his own offspring die before him; the heartbreak and the begrudging decision to choke his first true children to keep them from the future he had seen and he had known.

“I had never thought of how hard it must be to reproduce and watch them pass; I am deeply sorry for you, Xander since I have seemingly been given the ability to never go through such a struggle.” She got up from her chair as he began to drink, “You must be so tired.” She voiced as she gently took the bottle and pulled it from him,

“You’ve eloquently put the emotions into words, but though you try to make up for those wrongs, who help you through these times?” Lisa asked him,

“Is it all those dogs you showed me a picture of? Is it the solace you get from knowing you are preparing some to live to the fullest or to their best or is it more bottles like this that are numerous and near bottomless in number and quantity?” She asked, “In these times, do you look outward for assistance or inward?”

[Xander]

Xander sighed.

"It depends, really. Sometimes, years go by, and i have no one. Other times, i have more support than i can handle. I have lost track of the years i spent, lost in madness. There are legends, myths, and horrific folk tales, based on my actions while entangled in my broken mind and thoughtless rages. Though i have little memory of these events, it is not hard to imagine i could be behind the legend of Grendel, or even Cuchulain. I have awakened from madness, surrounded by bodies, covered in blood, and found that people i had spoken with, as far as i knew had spoken with me just the day before, had been dead for decades, or even centuries."

He closed his eyes. "I seek solace where it is most readily available. Animals are the best answer for this. They do not judge, and despite all the horrible things i have done, they do not fear me. I can never right the wrongs i have committed, but i can at least make up for the guilt by helping others to live. I have raised orphans of war, rebuilt villages, fought dragons to save princes AND princesses," He smirked at this one, showing there were stories to tell here. "If it is indeed possible to find your soul in heaven or hell based on your actions, the least i can hope for, is to balance things out."