You just said it: I'm impatient. I may have known vampirism was in my future but honestly I never expected the world to come around. No reason to expect the vampire underworld would be any different.
I found the time to pursue you, didn't I? Our relationship may not be a cultural taboo, but we had plenty of obstacles that I found a way to navigate around. That you found a way to navigate around, too.
The effort's well worth it for the right person. You're worth it.
Well. You did it cleverly. Enthusiastically, but precisely. Balancing the greater good in favor of your own desires, coupled with my own limitations and needs. It was impressive. Not shocking in retrospect, given your skillset, of course you're good at balancing priorities, and of course that's to say nothing of your work ethic, you're very good at going the extra thousand miles when the situation calls for it, but
You were worth waiting for, is what I mean to say. Three hundred-odd years is a long time, but I would wait another if it meant you at the end.
[UGH IT'S EMBARRASSING TO HAVE FEELINGS mrhghrgh nope can't leave it at that.]
In any case: tell me of him. Your Thomas. You have three different types that seem to appeal to you; I want to know what type he was.
[Oh, he's printing out this text and framing it. Just as soon as he figures out how to do that. Maybe he'll have Harlan do it, if only to rub the favoritism in his face.
More importantly: he knows just how deeply Rosalind must mean this if she's willing to immortalize it in writing.]
Love you too, Ros.
[He also knows not to push it, so, moving on!]
Three different types, huh? You're gonna have to lay out those out for me sometime.
Thomas was a colleague at university while I was working on my doctorate. I think I was barely 20 at the time, and he was a few years older. Back then it paid to have a mentor for that lifestyle.
That's about all he was, too. There was never any romance and both of us preferred it that way, but given how difficult it was to find partners, the fling went on for a couple years. Not exclusively, though; he had others and so did I, once he introduced me.
He was exactly what you'd expect of a German grad student in the late 40s. Blonde, tall, masculine and roughcut from a distance but way softer up close. Cute, but totally not my type, sorry to say.
He was a means to an end more than anything. We did well as superficial friends, but he tended to run out of patience for me pretty quickly. We lost touch after he graduated--on purpose, I think. I have a suspicion we both knew our political views didn't line up. Better to let stuff fade than wait for an explosion, you know? That way it stays a good memory.
Odd as it is to say about someone like that . . . I am glad you found him. Even if it ended the way it did, there's something to be said about realizing you aren't alone in your sexuality. Especially back then. Was he at least decent enough in terms of being a means to an end? (Did you father know?)
Ah, and on that note . . . your types are as follows: similar to you intellectually, similar to you in aesthetics, and those you want to work you over. In other words: myself, who can not only keep up with but outright challenge your intellect; that human with the industrial piercings you flirted with last week, the one you fed on, the one who talked with you about music for ages on end; and Fenris, who has fucked you well enough that you've staggered around the next day, giddy off it.
And that man, Thomas, fit none of the above, for he wasn't decent enough to firmly fulfill any category.
[It's not jealousy that makes her say that, but defensiveness. The man's likely long dead, or at least close to it, but still, there's a spark of irritation for anyone foolish enough not to see what a spectacular potential partner Newt is. She's unbiased.]
It's not odd. That's how I felt about him, too. If nothing else, I'm grateful for him.
Not to mention he was more than decent in bed, hah. Granted it didn't take much to impress me then. I'd slept with women before him but as you know, it's a different experience with men. Plus I was young. Didn't quite have those defined types yet.
Which, wow, you've got my number, huh? You've even got examples.
Thomas was closest to the Fenris category, if I had to slot him in. But again, I was easily impressed.
My father found out before I worked up the nerve to tell him myself. I still don't know how given how careful I was, but that's the reality of having a vampire spy as a dad. He took it as well as possible given the era. It took him a couple decades to come around completely, but until then it was just something we never talked about.
In retrospect, I think he was more worried about me than disapproving. He's the king of invasive questions these days.
Did it bother you, having to keep your sexuality under wraps for so long?
It bothered me some times more than others. I can't say I suffered, nothing so needlessly dramatic, it wasn't some source of unresolved angst in my life. But I would be wistful, now and then. I get along easier with men, but I favor women more.
It is what it is. There were more important things I needed to get done, and sex is rarely worth the risk.
Lol. That sounds right on the mark for you. I can't say I wholly disagree, but SOME sex is totally worth the risk.
Besides, it's exciting to do something you're not supposed to be doing.
His questions rank pretty high on the invasive scale but it's usually clinical stuff, not personal. He's much more accepting these days but I don't think he's wrapped his head around bisexuality as a concept just yet.
I've long since gotten over those sorts of conversations being awkward. I've spent the last 50+ years with him in my head, anyway. The TMI exchange is a two-way street.
Ahh, is that why we end up rutting in clubs so often?
[Far better to say that than something soppy like you were worth it. It's true, but also, let's not go nuts.]
My god, that's true, isn't it? I forget that sometimes, the two of you sharing that bond. Harlan and I have only just learned how to navigate that, and it's an imprecise science to say the least. Half the time we can't help thoughts spilling over anyway. You can well imagine the headache of adding Jesse into the mix; sometimes I swear I think things and it's one of them instead. And I thought it was bad when I was the fledgling . . .
Anyway: I cannot imagine my mother hearing unintentional details about what I fantasize about or what have you. Or, perish the thought, the other way around (though frankly I don't think she did fantasize about things).
You'll get the hang of it, just give it time. It sounds easier to keep your thoughts to yourself as a sire, but much more difficult to stop the stream of consciousness flood from your fledglings. And you took up two within a relatively short amount of time.
I don't doubt that you can handle it, but you have made more trouble for yourself.
As a note, my father and I have gotten very good at blocking each other out. He's not a lingering presence when we're together.
[Mmmostly, anyway. Slip-ups happen, and it's a lot easier to lock the door with sex than strong emotions. Jacob hasn't seen any sex tapes, but he is sometimes forced to read Newt's middle school diary, so to speak. There's been a lot of badgering about marriage recently.
But Rosalind doesn't need to know that, not yet.]
I imagine a fledgling is in my future, yeah. I never got around to having children before I turned, and fledglings are the next best thing. According to Dad, I mean. There's a loose expectation there.
[There's a bit of a pause. He's not wrong, not about her biting off nearly more than she can chew; wasn't that how all this started? And oh, but it is exhausting when both boys are near. She loves them— fiercely, selfishly, intensely— but good god, having two other people share your mind is so much.
That said: it's hard not to instinctively argue.]
You lost my panties last time. I'll complain as I like.
[Needling: successful, in other words. He knows it and so does she, but now they're going to play this game.]
What kind of fledgling are you imagining for yourself? I suppose that's one of the ways they're better than children: you can be sure you actually like them before you turn them.
[She absolutely saved Jesse on a whim without getting to know him first, but you know what, shit happens. Harlan was planned, Jesse is the surprise baby.]
Hey, that's on you. You should know better than to wear underwear you want to keep when we go out.
I haven't thought much about potential fledglings. If I start drumming up a wishlist, I'll never take one on. It took you hundreds of years to find someone that matched your criteria and I'd be just as picky.
Not that I plan to half-ass the choice but I'd rather not put myself in a box.
I do want someone teachable, though. Not fixer-uppers like yours, but I miss having students.
Did Harlan and Jesse actually meet your high standards or did you get tired of searching?
[Jesse is. Harlan was his own man before Rosalind came along; the work comes from trying to educate him in the ways of being a vampire, but that's every fledgling. Jesse . . . ah, Jesse. He's grown so much in the past few years. He's intelligent, for all he'd tried to bury it under years of drug abuse as a human. But he's willful and stubborn, and oh, so moralistic, and that comes with its own sets of challenges.
Not like her, Rosalind thinks, frowning down at her phone. No, she's never stubborn, or at least not like that, digging her heels in to be obstinate. If she insists on her way, it's only ever because she's right.]
Harlan met my standards. I observed him for a while before I turned him— although admittedly, he forced my hand by a good year or two. But it was not loneliness that had me seeking him out; he fascinated me. He still does. And Jesse—
He's a work in progress. But there is far more to him than meets the eye. More, I think, than even he realizes or wants to admit. If nothing else, he has something we all the rest of us lack.
[Another pause.]
I want him to meet your father sometime soon, if Jacob would be amiable towards it. I think it would do him good.
Right. Got it. Harlan is ~*~fAsCiNaTiNg~*~! Bully for him.
[Jealousy is not exactly what he would call the emotion he feels when Rosalind praises her precious fledgling. It can't be jealousy when he's still so confident that, between the two of them, Newt will always reign supreme in Rosalind's mind.
But, still. He doesn't like the guy, and thus doesn't love hearing how interesting and unique he is. Like, sure, he technically asked, but Ros was supposed to say "no, I got lazy and Harlan just happened to be within arms reach".
Anyway, he doesn't much care for Jesse either, but for different reasons. Jesse isn't a threat. He's entertaining, but benign. Newt at least understands why Rosalind chose Harlan, but Jesse... Newt's been scratching his head over that one for years.]
Something the rest of us LACK? Doubtful, unless you're talking addiction problems and an unchecked temper.
Oh, and an appreciation for orgies. :)
Which begs the question: why, exactly, do you want him meeting my dad?
I want him to meet your father because he could use a positive male presence in his life, and your father has the admirable tendency to parent anyone he feels might be in need of it.
[Herself included.]
And it would do Jesse good to have someone he does not feel he needs to prove himself towards— he does, you know, when it comes to you and I and Harlan. Even Fenris. He feels he has to present a front.
And what he has that we LACK is a moral center. He's still human in his mind, for all that he's leaned into the decadence of this lifestyle. He still has his morality, and . . . I will not say that will not be a problem in the future, but it's certainly something the rest of us have long since disconnected from.
He feels the need to prove himself because he DOES have to prove himself, you know. That's how the lot of us are and how court works. Species and lineage don't cut it, at least not socially.
Buuut hm, I agree that a softer presence might do him some good. And you're right, my father is good for that sort of thing. Maybe because he spent so long without a coven of his own.
I'll talk to him. I'm sure he feels Jesse is, in a sense, his grandchild.
Of course I won't, don't be silly. If anything, he's his stepgrandson.
And I don't think so, no. Certainly you occupy a position he doesn't. But "bully for him", Newt, really? He is fascinating. Why does it irk you I say so?
Dooooooon't. Don't. He'll latch on and it'll be a whole thing.
He'd start treating Jesse like a "step" grandson, how about that? He'd start slipping him five bucks when you're not looking and offering him Werther's originals. It'd ruin the whole "positive male presence" thing you're hoping to cultivate.
Anyway he's not that fascinating, Rosalind. He's a murderer. You find him interesting because he was a murderer BEFORE you turned him, but that just makes him an asshole. He's a rabid dog you collected and put in a petri dish, that's all.
It "irks" me because you're wasting your time with him. Surely you've got better things to research.
[Well now she's definitely going to let that slip to Jacob. Petty warfare and all, it won't backfire on her in the least.]
Oh, you have standards for me now. I see. Zero for two, apparently. Tell me: am I to sire now purely based on potential worth?
I get along with him. I like him. There's few enough people I can say that about; does that not count for anything?
And I'll thank you not to insult him. A rabid dog— you wonder why I think you jealous? Because there's no easier way to rile you up than to mention him in any capacity.
[Never mind the time she and Harlan pointedly banged within Newt's earshot, my, my.]
You know that's not what I mean. Sire whomever you want, it's your decision. I just don't like your decision.
Same as how I don't like that you like him. Aside from being an actual serial killer, he's rude and crass and insubordinate. You let him get away with too much.
Remember how he called me a Nazi? Remember how the two of you fucked damn near in front of me and he STILL gloats about it? Remember how Peter ripped out his throat because even he can see that Harlan steps out of line far too often?
He's got his benefits, I'll grant you that, but he's a loose cannon. It's purely luck and your intelligence that's kept him from causing some irreversible catastrophe.
It's not jealousy you're reading, it's frustration. If he brings you down with him then he'd better hope he's killed himself in the process.
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I found the time to pursue you, didn't I? Our relationship may not be a cultural taboo, but we had plenty of obstacles that I found a way to navigate around. That you found a way to navigate around, too.
The effort's well worth it for the right person. You're worth it.
Thomas was also worth it. :)
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You were worth waiting for, is what I mean to say. Three hundred-odd years is a long time, but I would wait another if it meant you at the end.
[UGH IT'S EMBARRASSING TO HAVE FEELINGS mrhghrgh nope can't leave it at that.]
In any case: tell me of him. Your Thomas. You have three different types that seem to appeal to you; I want to know what type he was.
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More importantly: he knows just how deeply Rosalind must mean this if she's willing to immortalize it in writing.]
Love you too, Ros.
[He also knows not to push it, so, moving on!]
Three different types, huh? You're gonna have to lay out those out for me sometime.
Thomas was a colleague at university while I was working on my doctorate. I think I was barely 20 at the time, and he was a few years older. Back then it paid to have a mentor for that lifestyle.
That's about all he was, too. There was never any romance and both of us preferred it that way, but given how difficult it was to find partners, the fling went on for a couple years. Not exclusively, though; he had others and so did I, once he introduced me.
He was exactly what you'd expect of a German grad student in the late 40s. Blonde, tall, masculine and roughcut from a distance but way softer up close. Cute, but totally not my type, sorry to say.
He was a means to an end more than anything. We did well as superficial friends, but he tended to run out of patience for me pretty quickly. We lost touch after he graduated--on purpose, I think. I have a suspicion we both knew our political views didn't line up. Better to let stuff fade than wait for an explosion, you know? That way it stays a good memory.
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Ah, and on that note . . . your types are as follows: similar to you intellectually, similar to you in aesthetics, and those you want to work you over. In other words: myself, who can not only keep up with but outright challenge your intellect; that human with the industrial piercings you flirted with last week, the one you fed on, the one who talked with you about music for ages on end; and Fenris, who has fucked you well enough that you've staggered around the next day, giddy off it.
And that man, Thomas, fit none of the above, for he wasn't decent enough to firmly fulfill any category.
[It's not jealousy that makes her say that, but defensiveness. The man's likely long dead, or at least close to it, but still, there's a spark of irritation for anyone foolish enough not to see what a spectacular potential partner Newt is. She's unbiased.]
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Not to mention he was more than decent in bed, hah. Granted it didn't take much to impress me then. I'd slept with women before him but as you know, it's a different experience with men. Plus I was young. Didn't quite have those defined types yet.
Which, wow, you've got my number, huh? You've even got examples.
Thomas was closest to the Fenris category, if I had to slot him in. But again, I was easily impressed.
My father found out before I worked up the nerve to tell him myself. I still don't know how given how careful I was, but that's the reality of having a vampire spy as a dad. He took it as well as possible given the era. It took him a couple decades to come around completely, but until then it was just something we never talked about.
In retrospect, I think he was more worried about me than disapproving. He's the king of invasive questions these days.
Did it bother you, having to keep your sexuality under wraps for so long?
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It bothered me some times more than others. I can't say I suffered, nothing so needlessly dramatic, it wasn't some source of unresolved angst in my life. But I would be wistful, now and then. I get along easier with men, but I favor women more.
It is what it is. There were more important things I needed to get done, and sex is rarely worth the risk.
How invasive is invasive?
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Besides, it's exciting to do something you're not supposed to be doing.
His questions rank pretty high on the invasive scale but it's usually clinical stuff, not personal. He's much more accepting these days but I don't think he's wrapped his head around bisexuality as a concept just yet.
I've long since gotten over those sorts of conversations being awkward. I've spent the last 50+ years with him in my head, anyway. The TMI exchange is a two-way street.
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[Far better to say that than something soppy like you were worth it. It's true, but also, let's not go nuts.]
My god, that's true, isn't it? I forget that sometimes, the two of you sharing that bond. Harlan and I have only just learned how to navigate that, and it's an imprecise science to say the least. Half the time we can't help thoughts spilling over anyway. You can well imagine the headache of adding Jesse into the mix; sometimes I swear I think things and it's one of them instead. And I thought it was bad when I was the fledgling . . .
Anyway: I cannot imagine my mother hearing unintentional details about what I fantasize about or what have you. Or, perish the thought, the other way around (though frankly I don't think she did fantasize about things).
[But actually, hm, that makes her wonder—]
Would you ever take a fledgling?
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I hope that's not a complaint.
[He knows it's not, but, time to needle.]
You'll get the hang of it, just give it time. It sounds easier to keep your thoughts to yourself as a sire, but much more difficult to stop the stream of consciousness flood from your fledglings. And you took up two within a relatively short amount of time.
I don't doubt that you can handle it, but you have made more trouble for yourself.
As a note, my father and I have gotten very good at blocking each other out. He's not a lingering presence when we're together.
[Mmmostly, anyway. Slip-ups happen, and it's a lot easier to lock the door with sex than strong emotions. Jacob hasn't seen any sex tapes, but he is sometimes forced to read Newt's middle school diary, so to speak. There's been a lot of badgering about marriage recently.
But Rosalind doesn't need to know that, not yet.]
I imagine a fledgling is in my future, yeah. I never got around to having children before I turned, and fledglings are the next best thing. According to Dad, I mean. There's a loose expectation there.
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That said: it's hard not to instinctively argue.]
You lost my panties last time. I'll complain as I like.
[Needling: successful, in other words. He knows it and so does she, but now they're going to play this game.]
What kind of fledgling are you imagining for yourself? I suppose that's one of the ways they're better than children: you can be sure you actually like them before you turn them.
[She absolutely saved Jesse on a whim without getting to know him first, but you know what, shit happens. Harlan was planned, Jesse is the surprise baby.]
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I haven't thought much about potential fledglings. If I start drumming up a wishlist, I'll never take one on. It took you hundreds of years to find someone that matched your criteria and I'd be just as picky.
Not that I plan to half-ass the choice but I'd rather not put myself in a box.
I do want someone teachable, though. Not fixer-uppers like yours, but I miss having students.
Did Harlan and Jesse actually meet your high standards or did you get tired of searching?
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They aren't fixer-uppers.
[Jesse is. Harlan was his own man before Rosalind came along; the work comes from trying to educate him in the ways of being a vampire, but that's every fledgling. Jesse . . . ah, Jesse. He's grown so much in the past few years. He's intelligent, for all he'd tried to bury it under years of drug abuse as a human. But he's willful and stubborn, and oh, so moralistic, and that comes with its own sets of challenges.
Not like her, Rosalind thinks, frowning down at her phone. No, she's never stubborn, or at least not like that, digging her heels in to be obstinate. If she insists on her way, it's only ever because she's right.]
Harlan met my standards. I observed him for a while before I turned him— although admittedly, he forced my hand by a good year or two. But it was not loneliness that had me seeking him out; he fascinated me. He still does. And Jesse—
He's a work in progress. But there is far more to him than meets the eye. More, I think, than even he realizes or wants to admit. If nothing else, he has something we all the rest of us lack.
[Another pause.]
I want him to meet your father sometime soon, if Jacob would be amiable towards it. I think it would do him good.
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[Jealousy is not exactly what he would call the emotion he feels when Rosalind praises her precious fledgling. It can't be jealousy when he's still so confident that, between the two of them, Newt will always reign supreme in Rosalind's mind.
But, still. He doesn't like the guy, and thus doesn't love hearing how interesting and unique he is. Like, sure, he technically asked, but Ros was supposed to say "no, I got lazy and Harlan just happened to be within arms reach".
Anyway, he doesn't much care for Jesse either, but for different reasons. Jesse isn't a threat. He's entertaining, but benign. Newt at least understands why Rosalind chose Harlan, but Jesse... Newt's been scratching his head over that one for years.]
Something the rest of us LACK? Doubtful, unless you're talking addiction problems and an unchecked temper.
Oh, and an appreciation for orgies. :)
Which begs the question: why, exactly, do you want him meeting my dad?
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[From orgies to his father, good grief.]
I want him to meet your father because he could use a positive male presence in his life, and your father has the admirable tendency to parent anyone he feels might be in need of it.
[Herself included.]
And it would do Jesse good to have someone he does not feel he needs to prove himself towards— he does, you know, when it comes to you and I and Harlan. Even Fenris. He feels he has to present a front.
And what he has that we LACK is a moral center. He's still human in his mind, for all that he's leaned into the decadence of this lifestyle. He still has his morality, and . . . I will not say that will not be a problem in the future, but it's certainly something the rest of us have long since disconnected from.
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Are you jealous of Harlan?
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Buuut hm, I agree that a softer presence might do him some good. And you're right, my father is good for that sort of thing. Maybe because he spent so long without a coven of his own.
I'll talk to him. I'm sure he feels Jesse is, in a sense, his grandchild.
(Please don't feed into that notion.)
[...]
SHOULD I be jealous of Harlan?
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And I don't think so, no. Certainly you occupy a position he doesn't. But "bully for him", Newt, really? He is fascinating. Why does it irk you I say so?
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He'd start treating Jesse like a "step" grandson, how about that? He'd start slipping him five bucks when you're not looking and offering him Werther's originals. It'd ruin the whole "positive male presence" thing you're hoping to cultivate.
Anyway he's not that fascinating, Rosalind. He's a murderer. You find him interesting because he was a murderer BEFORE you turned him, but that just makes him an asshole. He's a rabid dog you collected and put in a petri dish, that's all.
It "irks" me because you're wasting your time with him. Surely you've got better things to research.
[Someone's still bitter over that Nazi comment.]
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Oh, you have standards for me now. I see. Zero for two, apparently. Tell me: am I to sire now purely based on potential worth?
I get along with him. I like him. There's few enough people I can say that about; does that not count for anything?
And I'll thank you not to insult him. A rabid dog— you wonder why I think you jealous? Because there's no easier way to rile you up than to mention him in any capacity.
[Never mind the time she and Harlan pointedly banged within Newt's earshot, my, my.]
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Same as how I don't like that you like him. Aside from being an actual serial killer, he's rude and crass and insubordinate. You let him get away with too much.
Remember how he called me a Nazi? Remember how the two of you fucked damn near in front of me and he STILL gloats about it? Remember how Peter ripped out his throat because even he can see that Harlan steps out of line far too often?
He's got his benefits, I'll grant you that, but he's a loose cannon. It's purely luck and your intelligence that's kept him from causing some irreversible catastrophe.
It's not jealousy you're reading, it's frustration. If he brings you down with him then he'd better hope he's killed himself in the process.
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[Oh, they're going to address the rest of that, but one thing at a fucking time.]
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Again: what does that matter?
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