#drgarneau

[yashicanandarchive]

⌝ Typically Yashica was able to wait until morning before she left work, she could keep herself in Supernaturals until the sun rose and she could walk to grab a coffee and do the rest of her day before she inevitably collapsed and slept for a few hours in bed at home. She didn't need to be outside in the evening air. However, tonight she had promised the building manager she'd be back inside before three am so that he could shut down the building buzzers while they were replaced - meaning she wouldn't be able to get back inside after three until at least the following afternoon.

⌝. So Yash had prepared, or so she thought, walking along the desolate week night streets of South Opulence in the direction of her apartment in Descray. The mortal girl had an industrial size flashlight she had been testing for a few nights, she made sure not to bring her typically large purse and instead had a backpack on her and she just needed to make it home. It hadn't quite occured to her that testing the light with such frequency would mean she was using the battery, a lot of battery, and as she rounded a corner in Descray towards her home the brilliant light illuminating the dirty street began to flicker.

⌝ "Don't - don't do this," Yash practically stuttered as her palm hit the slide of the light, temporarily holding it's brilliance while the young woman paused where she stood, brown ballet flats pressed to one another alongside the length of her feet to keep her steady as her whole body seemed to quiver and her heart rate began to increase. "Seriously?" Yashica grew frustrating, a thud with a rattle of batteries in plastic each time she hit the light, a few times it returned, but eventually the violence she was putting against it was not enough to retain the light and Yash was left with only flickering dull street lights.

⌝ The girl did not cope well with this, the pounding in her chest growing into an erratic pounding, her breath becoming hard. Yashica tried to focus on where there was light, rushing forward to stand beneath the street light but in doing so she dropped the flashlight, object hitting the concrete hard and shattering, causing Yashica to let out a violent scream that echoed through the streets, high pitched and ripping through the cool night air.

@drgarneau

[thebellamybarnesarchive]

⌝ "It was all recently redone," Bellamy commented as the young vampire girl unlocked the door to the Bowden townhouse she had once resided within. The immediate area of the space having a door that blocked off a staircase that had once been on display but now read 'private residence' on it, while to left was an obvious waiting room. The walls themselves were a cool toned deeper blue shade with accents of white trim and gold lighting and door handles. "But anything aesthetically I'm open to changing," she offered as her black heels carried her into the space.

⌝ It was a relief to finally have an actual doctor looking into the place. The local real estate agent that had it listed for her kept telling Bellamy that it was unlikely to get rented by a doctor and it would be smarter to just sell all of the equipment. The vampire had simply ignored her, she'd purchased state of the art equipment, paid a ridiculous amount to have them set up correctly, she wasn't going to have it all ripped down when she knew eventually someone would be able to make use of it.

⌝ Cream coating hitting the back of her ankles she stopped so he could take a look around the space, to decide if he wanted to look upstairs at the area that would actually be a home, or to look around the lower half that would be capable of being used as either a private practice or allow him to bring work home from the hospital. "I really just want someone to make use of it if my ex doesn't intend to," she stated, with a sharp inhale. "My estate agent didn't give me your name either, I'm Bella," she offered, holding out the hand that was not grasping at her black Bottega Veneta purse.

@drgarneau

[findopulencerp]

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[yashicanandarchive]

⌝ His words stunned her as much as her own admittance had him. They were full and firm, a certainty to them that Yash hadn't heard from others. The fear she held didn't bother Matty, and Elias seemed perhaps immune to it, but there certainly had been frustrated with the woman that she was simply trying to treat the symptom of the fear rather than the cause. It wasn't like they were wrong to expect it of her but Yash wasn't ready for all that. Being afraid was hard enough, addressing it felt harder.

⌝ The space between them illuminated as the man held out his own phone and Yash let out a sigh of stupidity, that she had forgot her own that was just in her pocket. How had she forgotten something so simple? "Better," she agreed, shaking her head as she reached for her own now, turning on the flashlight as he had. It wasn't nearly as good as the industrial one she had with her, but just having it and knowing so made her heartbeat immediately start to slow, smile forming across her face.

⌝ "I feel so silly, that I'd forget my phone had a light, I just - I panicked," she admitted, her own phone's light hitting the same space as his own and Yashica stepping closer to him, chocolate coloured hair falling around her warm caramel cheeks. "I'm s-," she went to apologise again but having heard the previous firmness of his words was able to cut herself off, dark eyes hitting his own and letting out a lilting laugh, such a contrast to her previous fears as she shoved them deep down in her core like she always did, to be amenable, and personable.

⌝ "Thank you," she offered instead, gesturing towards the light of his phone. "You could have just let me stand there freaking out until morning, or worse."

The seconds standing outside of the street lights dim halo feel like hours as her heartbeat hammers in his ears. Each rapid beat feels like the vibration of a great drum. And still he waits. He gives her space. He gives her time. While he means her no harm, he can’t quite say  the same for anyone else that may be lurking in the dark. Though as far as he’d been aware since his arrival, Opulence was leagues kinder to its residents both supernatural and not than any other similar community he’d visited. 

I don’t do well in the dark.

Augustin’s brow furrowed at this admission and he found himself almost…stunned. Frozen? Maybe. Wetting his lips carefully he slowly lowers his hand and moves it towards the pocket of his jacket with exaggerated care– and then she apologizes for screaming.  For bothering him. 

The fact that she assumed...made him think the usual outside reaction to her fear was annoyance, and that struck a potent chord of emotion within him.

“Don’t,” he says quickly “Don’t apologize. Not to me, not to anyone— never for this.”Removing his phone from his pocket he’s quick to unlock it and select the flashlight, bathing the space between them in bright artificial light. It doesn’t completely chase away the shadows but it keeps them at bay, especially for the girl–the human, without his heightened senses, without his ability. Swallowing the grimace at the heat of his previous statement he offers her a tentative smile “Better…?”

[findopulencerp]

                                            May 1st Activity Check

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[thebellamybarnesarchive]

⌝ To pretend seemed curious. Bella didn't need it but she could do it, to lay there and simply perform the motions of sleeping was oddly warming, a kind sort of gesture Bella could appreciate. Whether he did it for himself, to feel normal, or for another, so they could, the woman could rationalise that it was a sweet sort of thing. "At least you don't have to pretend anymore, if it doesn't bring you comfort," Bella offered, though a bed fortunately had many uses. "I am sure however, I don't mind," she insisted, whatever he needed he could pull from her storage.

⌝ Bella smirked a little at the way the vampire washed over her comments about devouring her exes though, he seemed so terribly intent on mortality for someone so old - at least from his cadence. He attempted to sleep though he could not, and seemed to shift over the violence she implied. It was sweet, though Bella knew at the very least the latter would drive her mad. "Layers of paint are certainly easier to manage," she agreed simply, eyeing him with a curiosity for his mortal intentions.

⌝ "I am perpetually the fool it seems, not sure what that makes them." At least for Bella it was easier to hope they had been the fools, losing her, even if logic sort of dictated she was the commonality and so the failure. "It is my weakest trait." A need to be loved that seemed rarely reciprocated.

⌝ The woman's eyes shift back to him at his offer she bother him. Dream words spoken to someone like Bellamy who could ramble on about herself for hours, and smart ones because the idea she could meant she'd be more cautious about it. "Good, I'm glad it's too your liking," she appreciated allowed as he traced shelving with a gloved hand. At the admittance medicine had changed over an extended period Bella laughed and gave a firm nod, "I'd hope so," she agreed.

⌝ However as he moved around the desk, taking up the space in front of her, it made Bella's own posture shift. The woman's shoulders adjusted and golden eyes trying to remain purposefully direct into his own as he explained he had volunteered and that he was experienced in the surgical field, her own fingers resting on the desk. It was hard for her to take his words at face value, since she knew what 'surgical experience' would have meant to Valentin, nails softly scratching on the desk as she appropriated her thoughts. "I think you might get on with my sire, he's actually a haematologist," Bella inhaled sharply. Just because she had a sick mind didn't mean this man with his mortal longings did. "Quite renowned in his field, he's been working on creating a synthetic blood substitute for vampires. He also recently came to town. I'm sure he'd enjoy a late night surgical endeavour. I know I do."

Augustin couldn’t recall the last time he’d slept. Pretend or otherwise. There was a simple comfort to be found in a bed of one’s own. A sort of stab at normalcy that came with working while in comfort rather than at a desk or kitchen table. Some days it made him feel silly but one should find joy where they could especially in a life as long as his. He cants his head to the side almost in consideration before he speaks “I don’t…sleep,” it’s a slow admission and if he had the blood to spare he’s certain he may blush in embarrassment “I tried pretending once long ago, I think, but it never…stuck.”

Following such a personal fact he’s almost eager to jump onto the offered conversation “Are you sure?” he asks “Well…” he hums and haws for a moment “A separate workspace with ample storage could be nice I suppose. I don’t know about relocating my personal effects wholly as I don’t have many outside of a rather extensive book collection.”

Both personal and otherwise. Even considering a journal with at minimum, one entry a day–over the course of nearly two-hundred-and-fifty-years of un-life things added up impossibly fast. Not accounting for the volumes he’d lost along the way. He had recovered what he could of some of his oldest volumes but even so, the sheer number was rather staggering. It would be…would be rather nice to have space to fully look over and retrace the history of his life. 

It’s only through decades of practice that keeps him from outwardly reacting to her words, at most he frowns a little as if the thought of devouring his (non-existent) ex-partners had never crossed his mind. Messy work, eating a man. “Well, I suppose layers of paint are easier to manage than layers of wallpaper, no?”

He had no clue, the kind of decorating of one’s home had never…never been his responsibility. He’d had someone to do that for him once, in another life–and ever since, he’d never had a stable place to really bother with the chore outside of how it already stood. Outside of keeping it clean and tidy of course. “You loved him,” he says simply “Love makes fools of us all.”

Monsters of many. Tragedies of some. 

“Bother away,” he offers as he follows her into the office, casting one glance at the name on the door and making a mental note to replace it with his own at some point–or at the very least, remove it “No no, the professional space is perfect as is. Leagues above many spaces I’ve worked in prior.”

Idly he traces the shelves with one gloved hand only to hover near the expensive looking computer with clear interest. Fingers itching to further explore but he’s quick to fold his hands at the small of his back in a tight hold “Bit of a jack of all trades,” he replies “I was formally educated back in the day over two centuries ago but medicine has come a long, long way since then.”

He circles out from behind the desk to stand before her “General practice suits me just fine, though I have volunteered at the hospital for the odd shift or two–I have considerable surgical experience among many other fields, when you live as long as I have, you tend to learn a lot more than you anticipated; especially when you don't sleep.”

[thebellamybarnesarchive]

⌝ The man's laugh feels a little surprising, Bella's jaw tilting ever so slightly up as she attempted to discern what it meant. It was hard not to be used to vampires behaving the way Val did, with a stoic quietness, no desire to over speak, and so each time she met one who was nothing like that it was hard not to be just a little surprised. "I didn't think so, a bit disruptive to sleep typically," she agreed.

⌝ At his suggestion he would pay an additional fee Bellamy was immediately shaking her head. "The price always included furniture, I'm happy to adjust things, I have a catalogue of everything I keep in storage, I'll email it to you and you can pick some pieces. For tonight we can just turn the neon light off so you can get some sleep, adjust things in the morning." It did surprise her he slept, wondering if he needed it, or, if like her he did it out of simple habit, a way to feel time in a way that was not to unending.

⌝ "Yes, we broke up, if I was going to kill any of my exes it probably wouldn't have been him, though if I was a better vampire I'd have devoured all of them," she said in jest...mostly. "And no, I mean, I only officially put the place up for rent at the beginning of the year, a few months isn't so awful, I haven't even finished renovating my new home. I'm so indecisive, I've painted my office five different colours already, eventually the room is going to lose some size because of how many layers of paint there are on the damn walls."

⌝ As for his luck Bellamy nodded, dark hair falling around her face while liquid gold eyes scanned the space. "Maybe not," she agreed, unnsure if that was true or not. "How many rich girls renovate their townhouses for doctor boyfriends that end up leaving though? I don't know if it's so much an Opulence thing as a dumb heiress thing, maybe I'll get my own reality show eventually." It was a cover, of course, the vampire woman dusting off her coat as she spoke of herself in this way. It actually had hurt, to be left that way. It had hurt each time she'd been left by various men, and it was hard to not feel stupid for trusting each and every one of them.

⌝ "So you'll let me keep bothering you then? I get to be that sort of landlord?" she joked, pushing off the wall finally and opening the door that said 'STAFF ONLY' to show him the rest of the space, even if he wasn't concerned with it, a small hallway with the same accents as those in the waiting room visible, with a door to the left, space for a sign but none since it had previously read 'DR NICHOLAS' on it. Bella gave it a shove. "Fortunately I think at least the lower level should be fine," she assured him, a desk already in place with shelves and draws, a computer in a matching hue to everything else as well.

⌝. A flick of her hair in his direction she finally asked, "what sort of doctor are you, by the way?"

The bark of laughter that escapes Augustin at her words surprises even him “Honestly? As long as the bed is clean and fresh the colour matters little to me,” to even have the option of more than whatever a rented room threw on for the evening was a luxury he hadn’t had since his human days “Though I suppose the neon sign isn’t really…up my alley.” 

A wry smile follows his words and he lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug “I mean, if you’re feeling generous I’d be more than willing to pay an additional fee for some interior decorating out of storage–truthfully it’s been a long while since I’ve had a place of my own and not been on the road,” he lets his gaze drift around the room, mind already running away with the many, many possibilities at hand “I can continue my stay in the motel while waiting for things to be finished…?”

Not for the first time during this interaction, Augustin wonders about this mystery ex-something in question. Boyfriend? Husband? Should he follow her lead of toeing the line of personal or stick to professional? He was painfully new in town, could it hurt to open up a little? “I’m…sorry to hear about the breakup…?” he ventures carefully “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for someone to come along, I’ll be honest and say I couldn’t believe my luck with this–” he gestures around with one hand “This kind of thing would just…I don’t think happen outside of Opulence’s borders.” 

Truthfully, there were a lot of things that didn’t seem like they’d happen in the world outside. “Not that I’ve really looked,” ever “I won’t be opening the doors for awhile anyway, so waiting for your input and potential magic touch with the living space might just be an unexpected boon.”

[thebellamybarnesarchive]

⌝ Bellamy smirked a little, it reminded her of the way her mother used to introduce herself and her daughter. It seemed another cruel trait of the woman's that she had never taught her daughter any French, a solidified decision on her mother's part that it would make Bellamy 'strange' to not be like the other girls in her school. Still, Louise Jacqueline Barnes née Chevalier, had always uttered her daughters name with her native tongue. "Yours as well," the young vampire agreed.

⌝ Much like some of their kind he seemed ready to act on practicality, all things could be changed she supposed. "Uh...I mean, technically you could move in now, the place is furnished but...," Bellamy rolled off a little. "It was sort of furnished with my ex in mind, and he felt the desire to pretend like I pushed him into feminine styles, because god forbid he actually admit he just wanted a pink bed," Bellamy overshared. It could have been considered a trait of her youth but Bella genuinely thought it would not fade with age, she was just someone who overshared. "So the bed upstairs is pink and has a neon sign above it..."

⌝ Turning to him where they stood in the waiting room, the back of her hips leaning against soft chairs, next to a door that read 'staff only' on it which would in time bring himself, and potentially in the future patients, back to the examine room, the office and the large space at the back with all of the equipment. For now, however, the space was just chairs and a desk with the open archway to the entrance space they had come in.

⌝ "All things I'd be willing to change but if you need a place to sleep tonight you're welcome to it and I can have some of my people come by in the morning to make adjustments. I have lost of furniture in storage because I am...wildly indecisive." The amount of beds she had purchased for her own new estate in Ashmore was ridiculous but she just had yet to be able to make up her mind on things, so used to catering her aesthetic to whoever she was with, or whatever concept of herself she wanted to project, who she actually was getting sort of...lost. "I mean, unless you're a neon sign kind of guy, who am I to say what your home decor aesthetic is? Maybe it's neon signs and pink velvet beds."

Augustin had never fancied himself the lucky sort. Yet here he stood at the one place he never suspected he’d stumble upon. When he’d come across the listing he’d honestly thought it too good to be true. Taking the plunge meant something a lot more permanent than he’d been planning for his seeking out Opulence.

He follows in the other’s footsteps taking in the clean details of the abode that could (maybe would) become his very own. “No, no it’s fine,” he assures her “Perfect really.”

Bit trite that was.

He wondered how rare it really was, how long had she sat on this prime slice of real-estate. What had kept her from gutting the place and starting from scratch? The question veered a little too close to personal for his taste so it went unasked. As he moves through the private practice part of the building he only vaguely considers what may lay above, taking in the impressive array of equipment that still sat covered in plastic sheets. Much much better than anything he’d had for himself in decades. 

As he slowly pivots in the middle of the waiting room to look back at the other he raises one sharp brow at her words. The unspoken question was given an answer. Best not prod the bear on this one. “Well, their loss, my gain.” it’s said with a half-smile somewhere between arrogance and uncertainty.

He eyes her–Bella’s–hand before offering forth a gloved one of his own to give it a hearty shake “Augustin Garneau, pleased to make your acquaintance,” even after all these years, the French accent still stubbornly clung to his words (why not try harder to disguise? Why not try harder to pretend?) “I don’t need to see anymore, I’m happy to take it at the listed price–I have very little personal effects to move into the attached residence but I’ll ask anyway, what’s the earliest move in date available?”

[yashicanandarchive]

⌝ Yash heard the voice before she saw anything, that hummingbird heart in her chest jumping, as did her body, deep brown eyes listing to see a pallid flat hand held out. The woman was by no means naive, she too knew what it meant to be a woman alone in the dark when a man approached but in Opulence, if she was hurt, there were far more ways to determine guilt than outside the barrier and so, for the most part there was that protection, that getting away with this was harder than normal. Of course, it didn't make her heart rate slow, it didn't make her move towards the figure as he spoke.

⌝ "I - I -," Yash stuttered, an attempt by her human gaze to focus, to find the man's features in the darkness. Perhaps he really could get away with something if she couldn't describe his face...

⌝ Eventually, however, her eyes adjusted, making out strict features with dark hair, a little taller than Yash but not looming as some men could be. "My flashlight went out and I - I don't do well in the dark," she admitted, unsure how the man would be able to assist her with this.

⌝ Logically she should have reached for her phone, it had a flashlight on it, but logic was harder to find when fear was prominent in ones mind. Even as she found her words, clutching at the strap of her bag with knuckles going white, fear drenched her scent, wafting off her in the wind, practically drawing predators to her. Silly thing, she should have found a ride, or perhaps just stayed home to avoid the trouble all together, but mortals in Opulence were by no means smarter than those outside. Some were even more reckless.

⌝ "I'm sorry I screamed," she offered, defaulting to a need to be polite and amenable. Yashica had yet to move, eyes simply stuck on him as she remained in the circle of the street lamps light. "I didn't mean to bother you."

What are you doing? Night time was what one could classically consider his time. The hour of the vampire. At the very least he should be at work. Could have been at work. Had been at work. For longer than he cared to count. While he didn’t need sleep, there had been stolen moments of privacy for the odd shower or simply to sit and catch up on paperwork. It was easier to let time pass him by when he pulled the odd shift at the hospital whilst things were still in the process of settling in for his private practice. 

A hospital was still a hospital even in a town full of supernaturals. Hardly entirely special, a little unique; with the odd case not seen outside the borders of Opulence. Maybe he was tempting fate by walking alone at this hour, but he hadn’t owned a car in a very long time; that kind of thing required something a little more permanent. The kind of permanent he hadn’t had in decades, in a way Opulence was his chance at a new beginning. 

As if he had the luxury to entertain such a thought after all this time. 

And it had been a very long time. 

To be lost in his own thoughts was not an uncommon occurrence, to drift not quite down memory lane whilst his body went through the motions. His feet already knew the way to something he dared not call home. Between one thought and the next he catches it out of the corner of his eye, the flickering light within the inky darkness broken only by the dim light of the moon occasionally broken up by the odd street light. Hardly the blinding glow of a city and in that one might fight comfort. 

Perhaps someone, but not every one. 

A heartbeat heavy with fear. Enhanced senses picking further upon the stench of it, of the nerves and the shuddering breaths. The silence is broken by a shatter of glass so loud to his ear that it might as well be happening at his side– this is followed by scream so violet it’s like a physical blow. He staggers as though struck, attention snapping in the direction of its source while his feet already begin to move. To run. 

To help, to help, to help–

There’s no breath to heave as he skids to a stop upon catching the figure outlined by the glow, gaze wide as he takes in the scene. No one is under attack. There is no heavy iron stench of blood or gasping desperate breaths of pain. But they are there in another form and at a first glance it’s a woman, and he is a man. And it is so very dark out. 

He hasn’t lived so long and not learned. 

He keeps his distance, one hand raised palm flat out as if to soothe and assure “I don’t mean to alarm,” he starts softly, keeping his posture open and unassuming and the distance between them so very important “I just, I heard a scream–you scream and I…are you alright? Are you okay? Has someone…?” 

There are no other someones around. 

Just the two of them here in the not quite dark. 

“Do you need help?”