Richard Sharpe/Elijah Wood - pg - There wasn't a lot worse than a bored vampire
[Cross posted to: blood_quarter and elegant_poison
There wasn't a lot worse than a bored vampire. Sighing, Elijah dropped his cigarette and crushed it out with the toe of his shoe. He looked down the street, spotting a bookstore open, the front window bright and inviting in the dark evening. Moving toward it he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders up and head down.
Sharpe couldn't withhold his sigh of frustration when he spotted one of his students approaching. He had stopped by the local bookstore to peruse the latest titles, have a cup of coffee, and a few moments of quiet before he began grading another batch of mediocre term papers. Unfortunately, there is no rest for the wicked. The isolated armchair that had looked so welcoming when he first arrived was now a trap. He tried to pay attention as the young man in front of him droned on about a mistake he had made on the most recent paper but he couldn't muster up the ability to care. When his student requested an opportunity to redo the assignment, he had to respond. "You know my policy on assignments. You have one, and only one, opportunity to hand it in. If you want to withdraw your paper, you will receive a failing grade. I am sorry to say that based on your previous performance, you would be unlikely to pass and would have to retake Napoleonic Europe in order to graduate. Think it through and email me with your decision by Monday." Satisfied he had thoroughly dismissed the young man, Sharpe's attention refocused on the book in his hand.
From behind the seated man comes a deep chuckle. "Hard ass," Elijah said low enough that only the person who had to be a professor, could hear.
Turning away from his book once more to face the owner of the voice, Sharpe raised an eyebrow. "Students require a rigid structure," he told the young man. "Anything less leads to anarchy, and I will not allow that in my classroom."
"A fan of rigidity and structure, hmmm?" Elijah said, inhaling, smelling the scent of vampire, the lingering whisper of old blood and he smiled. "I admire that."
The smile on the younger man's face drew the corners of his own mouth upwards. Looking into the shockingly blue eyes before him, Sharpe replied, "Life is nothing without rules and order. Although, the spice of life is in the challenging."
"Hell, then I must be so spicy I'm damn near a Thai dinner." He stuck his hand out. "Elijah Wood."
Chuckling at the impish vampire as their hands clasped, he replied "Richard Sharpe." The student destroyed his moment of solitude; however, this disruptive individual intrigued him. "I was just about to head out to grab a cup of coffee, care to join me Elijah?"
"Oh hell yeah," Elijah said. "I love coffee. There's a place down the block that’s good, unless you got someplace else in mind."
"Lead the way, young man." Sharpe stood and deposited the book he had been reading on the nearest shelf.
Headed out into the night, Elijah lifted his head, sniffing. It was habit, checking for friends, foes, and food. He smiled at Richard and gestured with his head. "C'mon."
While he followed the other vampire, Sharpe contemplated his new companion. He was taken aback by the other man's easy-going, casual nature. First meetings between two vampires are typically categorized as "cautious" at best. Yet here was this striking vampire who insinuated himself into Sharpe's solitary evening plans with seemingly no thought to the potential consequences. Not that he would harm the other man, but not all vampires shared Sharpe's outlook on the optimum vampire code of conduct.
Entering the diner, Elijah nodded at the waitress and went to the back booth. Settling in, he scanned the place before relaxing back and looking at the other vampire. "I like the way you talk."
Flashes of the film Sling Blade stole through Sharpe's mind and he couldn't resist the laughter that bubbled out of his chest. "Thank you... I think."
Elijah's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened a moment before he relaxed slightly. He shrugged one shoulder. "You sound - it makes me remember a good time, a long time go." He looked up as the waitress walked up. "Coffee black, oh and a beignet."
"Just a black coffee for me," Sharpe ordered when the waitress's attention was on him. As she walked away he shifted his attention across the table. Something had trespassed on the other vampire's easygoing attitude. He wasn't sure what he could have done to cause the tension he saw written across Elijah's face. "Memories can be very haunting things, both good and bad. I hope that my voice will bring pleasant memories to mind for you, Elijah."
"Mostly, yeah," Elijah smiled, relaxing completely and then fiddled with a napkin. "You mind if I smoke?"
"On one condition," Sharpe replied with a crooked grin. "Are you willing to share?"
"Hell yeah," Elijah grinned, pulling the crumpled pack from his pocket and shaking a couple out. "Actually," he said as he took one and then produced a lighter, flicking it for the other man. "The coffee here is only just okay and the beignets are a little heavy, but they let you smoke, so that makes them a freakin' five star place to me."
"The world is certainly a different place these days." Lighting his own cigarette, Sharpe continued, "Its difficult to adapt at times."
Elijah nodded. "You - what - two hundred?" He asked, tapping his cigarette on the small ashtray on the table.
"A little under, yes." Sharpe contemplated the man in front of him. "You, I can't seem to date. When are you from?"
"January twenty-eighth I was four hundred and seventy seven," Elijah flashed Richard a toothy grin. "So mind your elders."
"Well you don’t look a day over four hundred," Sharpe stared at his coffee mug in order to keep himself from smiling. "Though I will certainly be sure to help you cross the street from now on."
Elijah snickered, almost a giggle. "Asshole." He looked up as the coffees and pastry arrived. "You been here in New Orleans long?"
Sharpe took one last drag off of the cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray and grabbing his coffee cup. "A little over two years now, its a very interesting city. When did you come to the Big Easy, and from where? Based on your age I have serious doubt that you are native to this continent."
"No," Elijah said. "France originally. I've been here, let's see," he frowned, counting in his head before looking at Richard. "Little over a hundred years. I love it here."
"That’s a long time for the perpetually young to stay in one city," Sharpe replied casually. "It is easy to fall in love with this town though."
"I own a small bar," Elijah said. "Young body," he shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. "Mind and soul - or what calls itself my soul, are old as dirt and tired as fuck." He chuckled, looking at Richard. "Besides, this place is like living in a kaleidoscope. Give it a minute or two and it shifts and changes just enough to catch your interest again."
"Seems to me you might be in need of a change." Sharpe held the cup in between his hands, warming the cold digits on the cheap ceramic surface. "A little adventure never hurt anybody."
Elijah looked at Richard and his eyes sparkled, one fang glinting between his lips before he pulled it back. "I like adventures, challenges too." He smiled. "So what about you?"
Sharpe sucked in a breath as he caught Elijah's display. This little imp was just too much. Taking a quick drink of the rapidly cooling coffee, Sharpe's eyes met the blue depths across from him, "life is nothing if not one big challenge. If you aren't finding a way to earn your keep, then you are trying to contain the thirst that threatens to drive you mad. All while trying to keep your sanity as the world changes so rapidly that at times you feel like you can't breathe, and the memories of those you have loved and long outlived haunt your every waking moment." Looking down, Sharpe paused briefly. "Yeah, life is one big fucking adventure alright. But it’s important to seek out a few joyous moments when you can find them."
Considering for a moment climbing over the booth and biting Richard before curling up on his lap, Elijah finally settled on nodding and popping a beignet in his mouth and chewing around a huge grin.
Offering Elijah a kind smile, Sharpe leaned back in the booth and slowly finished his coffee. He savored the comfortable silence while he analyzed this new acquaintance. This 477-year-old vampire had obviously lived a long and difficult life, yet he retained innocence despite the sarcasm. He was struck with the strong desire to smack the vamp and protect him all at the same time.
"So, you like being called Richard? Ricky? Dick?" Elijah asked suddenly.
Sharpe found he couldn't help but be amused by the young looking vampire in front of him, both fragile and brash. "I've gone by both Richard or Sharpe in the past, call me what you will. Do you always go by Elijah, or should I seek out another moniker for you little imp?"
Snickering, Elijah tapped out a cigarette, sitting the pack on the table and pushing it toward Richard. "Mostly Elijah, Eli some, Lija, you there," he shrugged and lit the cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side and smiling. "Hell, I'll answer to just about anything too."
Signaling with his hand that he did not want another cigarette, Sharpe leaned forward across the table. "Well, that doesn't help me at all now does it? You are still a bloody mystery to me."
"Good thing we live forever then, ain't it?" Elijah grinned. "Gives you time to figure it out."
Looking up at the dark haired vamp through heavy lidded eyes, Sharpe smirked. "I look forward to it little imp."
Smiling, Elijah took a drag off the cigarette, giving the handsome Mr. Sharpe an appraising look. "Me too Ricky, me too."
There wasn't a lot worse than a bored vampire. Sighing, Elijah dropped his cigarette and crushed it out with the toe of his shoe. He looked down the street, spotting a bookstore open, the front window bright and inviting in the dark evening. Moving toward it he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders up and head down.
Sharpe couldn't withhold his sigh of frustration when he spotted one of his students approaching. He had stopped by the local bookstore to peruse the latest titles, have a cup of coffee, and a few moments of quiet before he began grading another batch of mediocre term papers. Unfortunately, there is no rest for the wicked. The isolated armchair that had looked so welcoming when he first arrived was now a trap. He tried to pay attention as the young man in front of him droned on about a mistake he had made on the most recent paper but he couldn't muster up the ability to care. When his student requested an opportunity to redo the assignment, he had to respond. "You know my policy on assignments. You have one, and only one, opportunity to hand it in. If you want to withdraw your paper, you will receive a failing grade. I am sorry to say that based on your previous performance, you would be unlikely to pass and would have to retake Napoleonic Europe in order to graduate. Think it through and email me with your decision by Monday." Satisfied he had thoroughly dismissed the young man, Sharpe's attention refocused on the book in his hand.
From behind the seated man comes a deep chuckle. "Hard ass," Elijah said low enough that only the person who had to be a professor, could hear.
Turning away from his book once more to face the owner of the voice, Sharpe raised an eyebrow. "Students require a rigid structure," he told the young man. "Anything less leads to anarchy, and I will not allow that in my classroom."
"A fan of rigidity and structure, hmmm?" Elijah said, inhaling, smelling the scent of vampire, the lingering whisper of old blood and he smiled. "I admire that."
The smile on the younger man's face drew the corners of his own mouth upwards. Looking into the shockingly blue eyes before him, Sharpe replied, "Life is nothing without rules and order. Although, the spice of life is in the challenging."
"Hell, then I must be so spicy I'm damn near a Thai dinner." He stuck his hand out. "Elijah Wood."
Chuckling at the impish vampire as their hands clasped, he replied "Richard Sharpe." The student destroyed his moment of solitude; however, this disruptive individual intrigued him. "I was just about to head out to grab a cup of coffee, care to join me Elijah?"
"Oh hell yeah," Elijah said. "I love coffee. There's a place down the block that’s good, unless you got someplace else in mind."
"Lead the way, young man." Sharpe stood and deposited the book he had been reading on the nearest shelf.
Headed out into the night, Elijah lifted his head, sniffing. It was habit, checking for friends, foes, and food. He smiled at Richard and gestured with his head. "C'mon."
While he followed the other vampire, Sharpe contemplated his new companion. He was taken aback by the other man's easy-going, casual nature. First meetings between two vampires are typically categorized as "cautious" at best. Yet here was this striking vampire who insinuated himself into Sharpe's solitary evening plans with seemingly no thought to the potential consequences. Not that he would harm the other man, but not all vampires shared Sharpe's outlook on the optimum vampire code of conduct.
Entering the diner, Elijah nodded at the waitress and went to the back booth. Settling in, he scanned the place before relaxing back and looking at the other vampire. "I like the way you talk."
Flashes of the film Sling Blade stole through Sharpe's mind and he couldn't resist the laughter that bubbled out of his chest. "Thank you... I think."
Elijah's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened a moment before he relaxed slightly. He shrugged one shoulder. "You sound - it makes me remember a good time, a long time go." He looked up as the waitress walked up. "Coffee black, oh and a beignet."
"Just a black coffee for me," Sharpe ordered when the waitress's attention was on him. As she walked away he shifted his attention across the table. Something had trespassed on the other vampire's easygoing attitude. He wasn't sure what he could have done to cause the tension he saw written across Elijah's face. "Memories can be very haunting things, both good and bad. I hope that my voice will bring pleasant memories to mind for you, Elijah."
"Mostly, yeah," Elijah smiled, relaxing completely and then fiddled with a napkin. "You mind if I smoke?"
"On one condition," Sharpe replied with a crooked grin. "Are you willing to share?"
"Hell yeah," Elijah grinned, pulling the crumpled pack from his pocket and shaking a couple out. "Actually," he said as he took one and then produced a lighter, flicking it for the other man. "The coffee here is only just okay and the beignets are a little heavy, but they let you smoke, so that makes them a freakin' five star place to me."
"The world is certainly a different place these days." Lighting his own cigarette, Sharpe continued, "Its difficult to adapt at times."
Elijah nodded. "You - what - two hundred?" He asked, tapping his cigarette on the small ashtray on the table.
"A little under, yes." Sharpe contemplated the man in front of him. "You, I can't seem to date. When are you from?"
"January twenty-eighth I was four hundred and seventy seven," Elijah flashed Richard a toothy grin. "So mind your elders."
"Well you don’t look a day over four hundred," Sharpe stared at his coffee mug in order to keep himself from smiling. "Though I will certainly be sure to help you cross the street from now on."
Elijah snickered, almost a giggle. "Asshole." He looked up as the coffees and pastry arrived. "You been here in New Orleans long?"
Sharpe took one last drag off of the cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray and grabbing his coffee cup. "A little over two years now, its a very interesting city. When did you come to the Big Easy, and from where? Based on your age I have serious doubt that you are native to this continent."
"No," Elijah said. "France originally. I've been here, let's see," he frowned, counting in his head before looking at Richard. "Little over a hundred years. I love it here."
"That’s a long time for the perpetually young to stay in one city," Sharpe replied casually. "It is easy to fall in love with this town though."
"I own a small bar," Elijah said. "Young body," he shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. "Mind and soul - or what calls itself my soul, are old as dirt and tired as fuck." He chuckled, looking at Richard. "Besides, this place is like living in a kaleidoscope. Give it a minute or two and it shifts and changes just enough to catch your interest again."
"Seems to me you might be in need of a change." Sharpe held the cup in between his hands, warming the cold digits on the cheap ceramic surface. "A little adventure never hurt anybody."
Elijah looked at Richard and his eyes sparkled, one fang glinting between his lips before he pulled it back. "I like adventures, challenges too." He smiled. "So what about you?"
Sharpe sucked in a breath as he caught Elijah's display. This little imp was just too much. Taking a quick drink of the rapidly cooling coffee, Sharpe's eyes met the blue depths across from him, "life is nothing if not one big challenge. If you aren't finding a way to earn your keep, then you are trying to contain the thirst that threatens to drive you mad. All while trying to keep your sanity as the world changes so rapidly that at times you feel like you can't breathe, and the memories of those you have loved and long outlived haunt your every waking moment." Looking down, Sharpe paused briefly. "Yeah, life is one big fucking adventure alright. But it’s important to seek out a few joyous moments when you can find them."
Considering for a moment climbing over the booth and biting Richard before curling up on his lap, Elijah finally settled on nodding and popping a beignet in his mouth and chewing around a huge grin.
Offering Elijah a kind smile, Sharpe leaned back in the booth and slowly finished his coffee. He savored the comfortable silence while he analyzed this new acquaintance. This 477-year-old vampire had obviously lived a long and difficult life, yet he retained innocence despite the sarcasm. He was struck with the strong desire to smack the vamp and protect him all at the same time.
"So, you like being called Richard? Ricky? Dick?" Elijah asked suddenly.
Sharpe found he couldn't help but be amused by the young looking vampire in front of him, both fragile and brash. "I've gone by both Richard or Sharpe in the past, call me what you will. Do you always go by Elijah, or should I seek out another moniker for you little imp?"
Snickering, Elijah tapped out a cigarette, sitting the pack on the table and pushing it toward Richard. "Mostly Elijah, Eli some, Lija, you there," he shrugged and lit the cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side and smiling. "Hell, I'll answer to just about anything too."
Signaling with his hand that he did not want another cigarette, Sharpe leaned forward across the table. "Well, that doesn't help me at all now does it? You are still a bloody mystery to me."
"Good thing we live forever then, ain't it?" Elijah grinned. "Gives you time to figure it out."
Looking up at the dark haired vamp through heavy lidded eyes, Sharpe smirked. "I look forward to it little imp."
Smiling, Elijah took a drag off the cigarette, giving the handsome Mr. Sharpe an appraising look. "Me too Ricky, me too."