catch-22 (harmony)

[devon decelles]

It wasn't yet sunset, but Devon Decelles was already well awake. He'd woken up about an hour ago, but he was confined to his sun-tight bedroom until the sun would go down enough that it wouldn't be a danger to him. This was the one downside to being a vampire. At least he hadn't stayed awake the entire day and gotten the bleeds. He'd had those before and he'd prefer not to have them again, though he knew it was inevitable that he would get them again. He wasn't old as far as vampires went, after all. A young two-hundred six. There were vampires younger than him, his vampire siblings for example, but there were even more that were older than he was. Vampires were immortal, provided they didn't meet the sun or get staked. Devon had no intentions on either of those, though he had acquired his new human from having a death hit set on him. He wondered if whoever had ordered the hit would find someone else to try and carry it out. It had been a couple of years now and he hadn't had much trouble with hunting humans, his present blonde not included.

Harmony was still a bit of a mystery to him. She had survived the weeks locked and chained in the basement, but he still locked the door on her practically escape-proof room when he had to rest for the day. He'd had other humans, day time people, look after her but she'd gotten passed them before and he'd had to find her. That put a stop to her outtings, for now. He wasn't above letting her out again, but he needed to be sure she'd behave. Of course, coming from a past like her's, and having had taken the opportunity to attempt to end his life, he wasn't completely surprised that she'd taken those opportunities to try and get out. But he'd argued so much and for so long with his siblings to keep her alive and he wouldn't be throwing that away by releasing her.

A few more minutes and the sun set enough that he could walk around safely. He walked down the hall and went to the room that he kept his human in. He hadn't trusted her enough during the previous day to let her roam about the house, so he turned the key and unlocked the door. “It's sunset,” was what he said by way of greeting.

[Harmony Ferguson]

She couldn't wait to see his face when he realized she had picked the lock and escaped. She knew there was no point in trying to escape from the house though. Harmony Ferguson was a woman of many talents. Especially when those talents helped her to escape such situations. He didn't trust her to roam the house after her little field-trip off the house grounds, which she couldn't blame him because that first time, she ran as fast and hard as she could that day to get her a good distance away, but he still found her, and he did it quickly. She knew it was futile that day, but she had to try. She was a desperate woman that day, and she paid dearly for it. She'd spent several days locked up in the basement for that. She was surprised he didn't beat the ever-living hell out of her either, but she wasn't going to ask for a beating.

She remembered spending days locked away in the basement for acting out. It had been pure torture. Especially when she woke up after her attempt to take out Devon. She had been securely chained to the wall. All her weapons had been stripped off of her and it had been dark. She had no idea how big the room was or if anyone was down there. Anyone who knew Harmony knew that she didn't like staying in dark places like that. She had a serious fear of tight, dark spaces. She shuddered at the thought of being locked up in the basement again as she raided the kitchen for something... anything to snack on. She sighed when she had to settle for an apple and plucked one out of the fruit bowl and tossed it from hand to hand for a moment, studying it.

Her head lifted when she heard movement upstairs and smirked. That would be Mr. Decelles going to "free" her for the night. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he discovered she'd picked the lock. She very quietly snuck up the stairs and leaned against the wall across from her door and started crunching on her apple as she studied him. "Really? And here I thought it just looked like rain." She said sarcastically before taking another bite of the apple, slurping some juice up as she did so. Though Devon had broken her of some of her more major habits, like smuggling in silver weapons she hid under her pillow, but her snarky attitude was something he couldn't quite get under control. It would take a lot of time and work to get her combative, sarcastic ways under his thumb. She saw no reason to cooperate. She was force-fed food she didn't enjoy. The few clothes she did have needed constant repair because Devon was always ripping them off, and the one personal item she had managed to get herself was a bottle of peppermint oil she used on her hands, feet, elbows, and knees. Why should she behave for him when she didn't trust him to keep his promises?