this is us again [evana]

[EVAN MICHAEL CALLAGHAN]

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Our love was lost In the rubble are all the things That you've, you've been dreaming of Keep me in mind When you're ready I am here To take you every time --------------------------------------------

Evan knew that the dead were meant to be honoured, and so he would honour them. It was risky business, coming here on the anniversary of his grandfather's death, because at any moment his own parents could come to pay their respects too. The only advantage Evan had was that he could turn invisible. The angel had avoided going to see his family, because he knew that the pull to talk to them would be much too strong. They couldn't know he was here, and not missing, he'd want to stay and being an angel he couldn't afford the attachments. Not now when he was so used to being alone. Sure, he had Mira, his charge was someone who also needed someone but it wasn't the same. It was a job, not his family and not the ones he loved so unconditionally. However, Evan was visible as he walked down the street. His blond hair getting ruffled by the wind, but he knew it would feel better if he was flying. That was certainly one thing that Evan liked about being an angel. The flying, being able to spread his white at winter snow wings, stretching behind him as he just flew. Anywhere he wanted. To the heavens, looking down on Mira from there, or even other parts of the world if he knew she was safe.

But walking it was. The feeling of such a human thing to do, and Evan missed feeling human. He hasn't felt human since the night he left Clara in his bed, having said 'I love you' oh so many years ago. She would have aged, maybe found a husband, but Evan didn't care. He would go back to Clara even when she was fifty. He had wanted to grow old together with her, and this was one of the reasons he was going to his grandfather's grave. He and his grandma had loved each other dearly, been childhood sweethearts, and Evan wanted to mourn his grandmother's loss like he was mourning his own. So he walked, his legs taking the familiar path down the road while he could, while he didn't need to hide because at the cemetery he would. He didn't know where his own body was. Was it buried? Or burned? He had died in a vampire's arms, he wasn't sure what a vampire would do with a body after they ate, he was never there when Alana finished eating. He would only bring the bodies, and someone else would clean up the mess afterwards.

The cemetery wasn't as sinister as you'd expect. There were no shadows, no monsters lurking in the darkness, even this late at night. Just past midnight. Mira was sleeping and Evan would sense if something was wrong. Nonetheless, his steps were slow and deliberate, he placed the single white flower on his grandfathers grave. He'd been carrying it with him. Some people gave him knowing smiles, that maybe he was going to give it to a lucky lady. There were no women in Evan's life, there could never be, and he was actually rather happy for that because no one could ever replace his Clara. And if he couldn't have her, he didn't need to have anyone. After a few minutes, he closed his eyes, not even sensing it any more as his body turned invisible, yet he was aware of everyone else around him. It was a little strange to think that so many people dream of being invisible, think of all t he things they'd do, yet Evan wouldn't do any of them because that wasn't his purpose. He could watch people unseen, but right then, he was not aware of someone watching him turn from man to dust floating in the air. But that was life, wasn't it? You're man then you're dust.

NOTES: sorry this is so short bby! i dunno when the next time i'll have internet will be to post back though, so no rush in replying!<3

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[ALANA AMELE NGAIR]

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[style=width: 342px; height: 200px; padding: 3px 3px 6px 3px; font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; COLOR: 414141; text-align: justify; overflow: auto;]She saw him! She knew she saw him but...! But... She had been seeing him often enough now that she knew not to trust her eyes. They lied. They saw that man more often than they saw the sun, it seemed. That wasn't a bad thing, per say, but it did get annoying to get her hopes up only for them to be crushed. Evan was human, and even if he survived, he would be a vampire. 'But perhaps he would come back as a ghost...' No. There was no point in keeping her memory of him alive. He was gone, and even if somehow he came back to this world, he surely would not be in the same town. The chances of that happening were just too slim, and Alana didn't like hedging her bets on the unlikely. Besides, she doubted he would want to see her much anyway. Not that his reluctance would stop her if he did indeed show his face, but it was the idea of the thing, really. However... it wouldn't hurt to go into the cemetery, just in case, no? Sure, she may be chasing dreams, but they were good dreams, were they not? And she wasn't doing anything that night... so it was decided. Into the cemetery she would go.

Walking into the place gave her shivers. She understood the peacefulness of cemeteries, but this one felt wrong. Perhaps a few ghosts called this place home until they could figure out how to get back to God? It was Manuka. A bunch of ghosts making a cemetery feel cold and unwelcoming surely wouldn't be the most absurd idea to cross her mind. Surely not like following a illusion of the man she had loved and killed decades ago. She knew she was insane, and these illusions just prove it, but she never knew if she should be afraid of that fact or not. Right now she may as well embrace it. Her insanity never led her wrong before, until Evan. After that incident, though... she didn't know what to do about her... 'condition'. She didn't know how to fix it. She didn't know if she wanted to fix it. She liked the impulses in her head telling her what to do. It made life interesting, and after living over 1,000 years, 'interesting' was hard to come by. However, she knew that she didn't want to kill someone she cared about again. She didn't know how to control it. But if she ever really does see Evan, she would have to figure it out. If God gave her the chance to meet him again, she really couldn't kill him. She couldn't go through that again.

But enough of that train of thought. She didn't see Evan, so it didn't matter. He was gone. Dead. She killed him. And now she was alone. But at least, for now, she could be alone with all these other souls that were abandoned in this plot of land. Except for the man in the way. Only one man was in this place besides her. He seemed to be hovering over a small grave, a child's grave. How sad. But he was in the way, and she was quite hungry... Maybe he wanted to go meet that child. Maybe it was time. Maybe God was calling his name... Alana could almost hear God tell her to make that man go to His side. He must be talking to her. And who was she to defy God? A quick few steps and she was at the man's neck, and a few second beyond that and she was holding the man in her arms as they fell. "Ce n'est pas grave. Dieu viendra pour vous."

[/color] She rocked the body as a mother would a child. The man's eyes rolled around in his head, his limbs moving sporadically. "Il va vous apporter à votre enfant. Tout va bien. Tout va bien." Her voice was light, once again giving the impression of comforting a child. But the man couldn't hear her any longer. He was gone. Alana looked down at him and sighed. If only he didn't get in her way tonight... if he hadn't disturbed her peace... at least now he was with his child and his God. Now he was at peace. Alana closed his eyes for the last time and wiped her mouth daintily with a handkerchief she kept in the side of her bra. She got to her feet and dusted the dirt off of her dress. It was like nothing ever happened. Nothing at all.
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[style=width: 290px; font-family: arial; padding: 4px; font-size: 8px; color: 414141; text-align: justify;]this template was tagged for JURATE, it has 766 words. ALANA is wearing THIS

[/color][/URL]. i just want to say I WUV U JURY. this template was made by gabby of caution[/color], atf[/color] & sds[/color] [/div][/style][/center]

[EVAN MICHAEL CALLAGHAN]

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Our love was lost In the rubble are all the things That you've, you've been dreaming of Keep me in mind When you're ready I am here To take you every time --------------------------------------------

Evan looked at his arm, see through to others, yet it looked completely solid to himself. Translucent maybe, but he was completely invisible to anyone else who was here, ghost or any other species alike. A small smile quirked at the corner of his lips at the thought, because who would have thought that Evan could ever be something as special as an angel. It was not worth the pain and sacrifice before hand, yet now that it’s happened, he has learned to appreciate it more. The grave he was beside had the flower he’d put down on it, and secretly he hoped that he’d see his family here, visiting on the anniversary of his death. But then he heard a noise, a whimper. He frowned, turning to look, it was male so Evan knew it wasn’t Mira, but it was strange. These were times when he was glad for his invisibility. And wings. He spread the white feathers out as he moved to fly above gravestones, the space eerie and quiet but with a sick kind of beauty. Peace. Though there were restless ghosts, he knew, though he could not see. Even he could not see a ghost who didn’t know how to project.

The wind ruffled his feathers and his blue eyes looked down as he flew. Swoosh. Swoosh. The sounds were quiet but calming, they made Evan feel powerful. He closed his eyes for a split moment, and he could hear the whimper again. A broken ‘please’ and he knew that God would want him to have mercy on this soul, human or not, and saving lives was his job. He wanted to repent for his actions before he died, and Mira was one way, but this was another and the angel would take it. The first thing he saw was blonde hair, a white dress, the woman cradling the man who was near death. She was drinking, but it was so tidy, not a drop was spilled, and then Evan was too late and it was like his heart shattered into pieces because it made him feel a wave of guilt when he didn’t succeed. He didn’t succeed and the man’s lifeless eyes looked up to the sky, up at him, and his wings wavered, because then he saw her. She stood, in all her glory, the nightmare from his past.

Alana.

The breath was punched out of him and his face contorted into a rage filled frown. He rushed down, like a comet, radioactive to annihilate the woman who ruined his life, and kept on ruining others. He fell to the ground, his shoes making a loud ‘thud’ sound, and he was visible, every particle visible to her and others who might have been lurking. The anger on his features was clear, could you expect anything else? This was Alana, killing another innocent, and he’d hoped he’d never have to see her again, but he won’t let her kill again. He didn’t say anything for the longest time. The smug sensation within the pit of his stomach made the lightest of smirks brace his sharp features, because she killed him ten years ago, yet he was here. His wings were visible for her to see so she’d have no doubt as to what he was. He was glad that he was an angel and not a ghost. It was just so fitting, because a life ruined is not a choice, and he shouldn’t be judged for it. Clearly, God and the heavens took mercy upon him.

The white of her dress with the contrast of her eyes was certainly stunning. She was a vision of false innocence and so see through that it was laughable. She was a wolf in a sheep’s costume and she wasn’t afraid to strike, and Evan couldn’t stop her, and that made him so upset. None of that showed on his face. Only stony coldness at his hate for this woman. She was beautiful, but unlike his Clara, she was ugly on the inside. “Alana.” His said, his voice low and rough as he took a few firm steps towards the woman. “Here to ruin another life.” He said, mocking in his tone, a storm in his eyes. “Why can’t you leave things as they are supposed to be? At peace?” He said, his voice rising, the blonde of his hair the same as it had been ten years ago, blowing in the breeze. “Do you never learn? Do you not give a damn about who you hurt? That man, what did he do to deserve dying?” He was close to her now, his voice a rough whisper. “And all those that you killed before me and after?” He wanted to hear the answers, then he would strike. He usually didn’t hit women, but in his mind, she was worse than a cockroach.

NOTES: gah! . i love them already man!

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[ALANA AMELE NGAIR]

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Oh.

Oh.

There has only been two times in Alana's life that she had been truly and utterly taken off guard. The first was many, many centuries ago when she was first turned into a vampire by her husband. The fear and helplessness and betrayal of that moment was one she really didn't want to see again, and if she had any say in her life, she wouldn't. However... this was the second. This was... What was this? She didn't know. Was he really an angel, was he really the image that stood before her, right now? Or was he another imagining, another spectral image her brain showed her to torment her with her mistakes? Was he really one with God? Of course, she knew that once he was dead he would go to the Creator. He was innocent, when all was said and done. Innocent. But to be turned into a creature of feathers and justice? It was... it was...

Well, to be honest, it was the sexiest thing she could think of. But she would save that train of thought for another time. Right now she had to make sure he was real. What could she say? He obviously wasn't in a talking mood, if his words gave any indication. Oh, the rage in his eyes... if only he could see that this was the way things had to be for her. He didn't understand. His words gave away his heart. They always did, with her Evan. And since words would not work for her right now, she did the only logical thing that came to her brain.

She touched him.

It was completely innocent, the way her hand rested against his cheek. And he was solid. He was real. He was warm. He probably wasn't truly alive, if the wings gave any hint, but he was alive enough to her. The situation was pleasant, ignoring the words he said. If everything had been different, she could have been a lover comforting her other half over a death of some sort. In fact, that might've been what she was doing, way deep down in her heart. Comforting him for the man's life she had just took. Maybe even comforting him for his own death, all those years ago. She didn't know. She didn't care. All that mattered is that her Evan was alive and they had the chance to be together again. She had a chance.

She slid her hand down his cheek slowly, relishing the touch and hating the lack of warmth she felt when she took it away. She clasped her hands behind her back, an uncharacteristic expression across her face. She seemed... embarrassed? Afraid? It was an awkward set of facial expressions that didn't have a clear emotion behind them. But her eyes were all for him. She noticed his slightly-tousled hair, the same as it was when he was alive. He was taller than her still, and his eyes, like his words, still gave his heart away to her. They were beautiful. Oh, how she had missed him while he was gone... She did not cry for him, but she didn't know if she even could cry anymore. Maybe her heart was broken. It would make sense. "Mon amour...

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[style=width: 290px; font-family: arial; padding: 4px; font-size: 8px; color: 414141; text-align: justify;]this template was tagged for JURATE, it has 604 words. ALANA is wearing THIS

[/color][/URL]. i just want to say YUS THEY BE AWESOME. this template was made by gabby of caution[/color], atf[/color] & sds[/color] [/div][/style][/center]

[EVAN MICHAEL CALLAGHAN]

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Our love was lost In the rubble are all the things That you've, you've been dreaming of Keep me in mind When you're ready I am here To take you every time --------------------------------------------

Nothing in his life went the way he had expected to with Alana in it. The blonde vampire took him by surprise many a time, and Evan was no less surprised now. He had lost his temper, all those years of pent up anger coming out at her at the sight of her having taken a life. Yet she looked at him in wonder, and Evan couldn't even begin to fathom what that meant. He frowned, his chest heaving, not because he was breathless from the harsh words that escaped his mouth, but from the rage and confusion which he felt. There was no doubt that Evan resented the vampire wholly, for what she did to him and also for what she made him do. That was unforgivable and then ... then she touched him.

Evan was pretty sure that the breath he was taking stuck in his throat, and God damn it he didn't even need to breathe, but the touch brought a sensation familiar to him. It was one of someone who was repulsed by the act. When he was still Alana's little toy, she made him have sex with her, and he tried to enjoy it as much as he could and seek the release in a least painful way he could, but he never felt it. When he was with Clara, that was what sex was supposed to be like, filled with love. Because of Alana, he didn't have Clara, and she had the decency to touch him. Evan just looked at her, held her gaze because she looked like she always had. Sometimes she'd look vicious, but anything that wasn't just that was just a façade, Evan knew that.

Then her hand slid from his cheek, and he tilted his chin in an almost proud motion, speaking volumes. 'You might have killed me, but you didn't kill the person that I am.' Evan thought, a small, vindictive little smirk on his face, it was so foreign on his features. Not something that Alana would have seen, but things change. Her stance was almost shy, and her words hit him like a ton of bricks. It's been years, and things have changed, and he was no longer afraid of her. But the words, the words did not make sense and his blue eyes burned into her familiar ones. He didn't know what she meant ... Of course, he knew the French, but Evan didn't feel like messing about, didn't feel like being a part of her little games.

"We've been in the same proximity for just a few minutes, yet you're already playing games." His voice was low, almost soft, and there was a sigh on his lips as he shook his head. He ran a frustrated hand over his his face. "I feel like I should kill you, right here, right now. But there are also so many things I want to say to you..." So many, angry, awful things, completely wrong for Evan's character and she'd know that. He was not the Evan that she used to know and use. He wasn't helpless anymore. "Do you have anything to say to me?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper as the wind ruffled his wings, not sure why he was giving her the chance to speak. He should have gone after her the moment she laid a finger on his cheek.

NOTES: <3333333333333333333

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[ALANA AMELE NGAIR]

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[style=width: 342px; height: 200px; padding: 3px 3px 6px 3px; font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; COLOR: 414141; text-align: justify; overflow: auto;]His words awoke a feeling within her.

No matter how much she cared for the man before her, Alana would never feel emotions... normally. She was odd since she was born, and the beatings that Life gave her (visions of blood and pain and fear and fire in her veins crossed her vision in quick succession) didn't make anything better. Emotions were useless in her position; never wanted, barely needed. Evan was different, though. He always was. Always would be. But Alana didn't have to like it. She doubted she even completely would. There was a sick sense of relief the last time she killed him, a weight off her shoulders, because she didn't have to care about his life anymore. She didn't have to listen to her stupid emotions, she didn't have to give a damn that he was unhappy with who she was and what she was doing (but the small, human, god-fearing part of her was whispering, constantly whispering, constantly there: he is right, you don't deserve him; he is right, you're a monster; he is right, you should just die and accept your punishment because you're an awful soul that deserves all the pain Hell can give you). She mourned Evan, after she killed him; oh, she mourned him, mourned who he was (though the voice whispered you barely even knew him, the traitorous bitch) and what he could have been, but the relief was always there. She could go back to being who she was for the past eleven centuries. She could be her again.

But the most annoying part about all of this, all of Evan was that she didn't want to go back (and the voice was telling her that's the first right decision you made in a long, long time). So now she was clinging, showing as much emotion as her broken husk of a soul would allow, because she couldn't let him go again. And she didn't know what to do if he tried to force her. She didn't want to think about it.

He spoke of her words, saying that he didn't like it when she played games (but he was never a game, never, never). He hated her, that she knew. She'd always know. Exactly how much had she taken away from him? How broken had she made him? Was it as broken as she made herself? She could never answer that. "I have many things to say. Many..."

[/color] (And the voice was again whispering you shouldn't say anything to him, he hates you, he always will you whore). Alana shook her head gently, trying to rid herself of the nuisance that decided to show up again today. "But would you even listen? No. No, you wouldn't. And for good reason, too. I'm not a good person, not a good human, a wonderful vampire. I'm not pur or céleste or..."[/b] She knew she was rambling, words slipping out that had no business being there, French slipping out in her frantic state. She could hear the voice again, purring, happy. She hated it. She hated everything it made her do. Hate. She wanted to go on killing, to be ruthless, to be something less than human. The voice didn't. It wanted purity and holiness and love. Disgusting thing. Horrible. But she was powerless to stop it. But she could shut up. It couldn't force her to talk.

Except perhaps it could, because it forced out one last thing, one last incredibly personal thought to her list of things she was not, "...heureux."[/b]
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[style=width: 290px; font-family: arial; padding: 4px; font-size: 8px; color: 414141; text-align: justify;]this template was tagged for JURATE, it has 596 words. ALANA is wearing THIS

[/color][/URL]. i just want to say this a thoughtful thought. this template was made by gabby of caution[/color], atf[/color] & sds[/color] [/div][/style][/center]