Sisterly Chat with a Telly Companion (private, Ysabel)
The invention of the television was, Dayle thought as she lounged in her lounging clothes, one of the pinnacles of invention for the 20th century. So many engaging stories could be seen and enjoyed. Dayle found herself absorbed on a weekly basis into the drama and asshattery of Greg House. The fickle picklechoosing of Meredith Grey. The boneheaded pipe bending of one of the brothers in American Chopper. But one of her newest drama addictions was the Monday-night show called Heroes. It depicted seemingly ordinary folks discovering that they had special powers - not unlike those exhibited by X-Men, Dayle concluded, but was much less "superheroic" and more "human" than those movies.
She watched the Tivo'ed first episode a ninth time (after having watched the second episode) and began to formulate a few hypotheses.
Shaking off her laziness, she stood from the couch and tromped to the kitchen. Feeling a bit peckish, but craving something green more than red, she dug through the vegetable drawer in the fridge. Bypassing celery and carrots, she glared at the broccoli for a moment but stared at the asparagus, almost hopeful, until she realized she'd need to cook it to truly enjoy it. Heaving a sigh, she snapped a 'branch' of broccoli off and, washing it quickly in the sink, made her way back to the sofa.

Companionable silence was perfectly acceptable when they were having a nice relaxing evening at home, but Ysabel did raise her eyebrows slightly at Dayle when she clumped off to the kitchen and then returned to flop back onto the couch with a snack.
"Something on your mind?"
She lowered her eyes back to her cross-stitch, finishing the little swatch of light blue she was working on and beginning to make the crosses of each little 'x.'

Nibbling on the fat part of the 'trunk' of her broccoli, she swallowed before she explained, "I mean, she heals quickly, even more quickly than vampires do in some cases. But if you pay attention to what she says, she claims she tried stabbing herself in the chest with a knife, or impaling her neck with a pole. One would usually think that such suicidal tendencies have a root cause somewhere, right? So then I got to thinking, when suddenly our own situation occurred to me, and I realized a parallel..." Dayle nibbled again and continued. "She's a cheerleader. Stereotypical American cheerleaders are rampant tarts, right... So maybe she found a nice beefy football boy and got into a round of bumpin'. Then when round two came around... Discovered that the one little obstacle to easy access had returned. And that brought the train of my thoughts back into the station at Yolgraveburg."
Dayle crunched down on a large part of her broccoli, ignoring a few little buds that fell to the cushion beneath her, and looked at her sister curiously.

If she were feeling waspish or in any way petty, she might have suggested Dayle needed a good round of bumpin' herself, but as it was she just tilted her head at her sister and let her brow furrow a bit. In polite company she might have made an effort at blushing, but Dayle was hardly polite company! So instead she felt she was justified in some sisterly bluntness.
"I've never found it to be very much of an obstacle."
Her needle continued to poke at its fabric as Ysabel gave dayle one of those sisterly-secretish smiles.

"You wouldn't think that a woman of our age and experience would have trouble dating. Or even finding an occasional fun shag. I'm rather happy for you, in that respect, and honestly in awe that you would find so much more than both, so quickly after arriving in a new place. I dunno if I told you, sis, but you've got yourself a good man in Ambrose."
"Speaking of good man," she suddenly changed tack, "Mum called last night while you were at his place. She wanted to say there's a small possibility Father might stop in on his way home next week, but that they were possibly planning on coming over for a few days around the holidays."

"Oh? And what might you know about my overcoming obstacles?"
It was said with a grin anyway; although they hadn't discussed such things, Ysabel had never tried to deny the fact that Ambrose was her lover in every sense. She certainly wasn't about to start.
"You need to get out more, dearest," she pointed out. "You should have come to Shades with us the other night."
Not that it mattered; they would go again. She would definitely drag Dayle along next time. "I do have a good man," she said with a smile. "He's an arse and a jerk and a complete idiot sometimes." She met her sister's identical blue-grey eyes and laughed. "But a good man nonetheless."
The news that their father might stop by, and that their parents would be in town for the holidays, was a surprise. Well, Richard traveled a lot so perhaps that wasn't such a big surprise, but Elsa wasn't fond of traveling at all.
"They must miss us. I suppose the pictures weren't enough for them to realize their 'offspring' are doing just fine on their own." Ysabel gave a haughty little sniff. "As if Elsa hadn't taught me herself how to maintain a proper home."
The devilish little idea of introducing Ambrose to their parents was taking root, and Ysabel had barely a second to wonder when she'd turned so rebellious before she was wondering who would pull a gun on the other first; Ambrose or Richard? Her money was on the prickly Ambrose. Although there was a good chance that her presence would cause him to mind his manners enough to stay in check. perhaps she was as good an influence on him as he was a bad one on her... she could blame her rebellion on him for now.
"Back to the idea of your dating, love... aside from your not getting out as often as you should, have you really been trying very hard? I know you've been busy at work. Is there someone there who's caught your eye?"

"I'd have gone, you know that, but I needed to get settled in at work."
Dayle smirked and decided to stick up for Ambrose. "Though the poor man must be a saint, to deal with such a virtuous, prissy snob sometimes..." She half expected something to get throw at her so brandished a bit of broccoli like a weapon.
"I'm sure they do miss us. They're not the greeting card type, but you know if we were just down the road they'd be over almost every night. Maybe the distance will be good for all of us. And it's not like you do any of the vacuuming..." Dayle smirked evilly. "Not that I mind. Sometimes cleaning's therapeutic."
Dayle held in a resigned sigh. She chastised herself mentally for even bringing up the idea of dating. "Not much sense trying hard. Too much going on at work at the moment. The few faces that have caught my eye have been lacking in the upstairs department. Of course I'm dealing mostly with the lowest rung on the ladder for now, though the few ... veterans are quite nice, and of course all taken. Some of the familiars have come onto me, but you know the stigma for bedding another's baby." Shrugging, she nibbled at the remains of her broccoli. "Almost need a Match dot com for vampires."
A quick snort turned into a giggle. "You know Mum asked me yet again when she called what my 'progress' is in 'that department.' I think that's the closest she'll get to asking me if I'd been shagged lately. Even hinted about looking for a same-team... How did she put it? A same-side one to tide me over. Though she made it rhyme." Snickering again, she sighed and leaned back against the sofa. "That woman."

She shot Dayle a look that was almost, but not quite, an impertinent roll of the eyes. She was quite satisfied to let her twin move on to other subjects, although Ambrose's sainthood wouldn't have been what she'd expected to be discussing, any more than her perpetual virginity. Nonetheless, it was, in her opinion, the more comfortable topic.
"While I can't argue with your classification of my own status," she said, poking a finger rudely at her sister, "I can maintain my stance and guarantee you that that man is no saint." She withdrew her finger and tapped it thoughtfully against her lower lip. "I believe I like him best that way. Sainthood is overrated."
Ysabel smirked at Dayle and dropped her attention back to her needlework, nodding and chuckling to herself at Dayle's recounting of her conversation with Elsa, her thoughts on work, dating... anything. She was often content to let Dayle ramble, and never ceased to find entertainment in how differently they viewed things sometimes.
"You'll come out with us next time." It was a statement that brooked no argument. She'd drag Dayle out if need be. "You can't do housework forever. Although my room does need to be vacuumed." She glanced up hopefully.

She hadn't pressed. If there was one thing Ysabel was good at, it was being cryptic. "You haven't spent but ten minutes in your room in the past three days. Vacuuming's tomorrow."
Dayle had gotten into a regular maid-like routine. Dust on Monday. Vacuuming on Wednesday. Bathrooms on Friday. Dishes and laundry were on an as-needed basis. She didn't mind so much... If she did, she wouldn't do it and would instead reinstate the maid service they'd contracted when they first arrived. She found it to be rather comforting, almost therapeutic, especially when certain other methods of relaxation and release failed her. "Besides, you'd have to think he was a saint for as much as you were saying 'oh God Amber, yes.'"
Dayle had been glad to be on her way out to work when she'd heard that. At first she thought she'd heard her sister calling for her, but after 'tuning in' her perceptive hearing... She turned with an apologetic expression to her sister. "You hadn't left the symbol hanging. If you had, I'd have left faster instead of dallying."

"You are badly in need of a date," she reiterated. "At the risk of sounding like Elsa, love, whatever gets you by."
Her words were gentle and humorous, however, certainly not intended to needle or hurt her sister. Still, she had time for another laugh over being caught.
"I never," she insisted, glancing over at the little hanging on the wall nonetheless, as if she could see into the past and tell if indeed she'd forgotten to flip it. Giving a little sniff she said, "I didn't say Oh God!"
She winked saucily at Dayle.

She was comforted though by the laughter of her twin then giggled at her haughty sniff and wink. "No, to imply that you 'said' it indicates a lack of volume. In this case, volume was certainly something that wasn't lacking."
Dayle felt the need to change the subject again; she enjoyed the little bit more freedom her twin was displaying with her, the little bit of out-of-shell aura the more traditionally garbed Yolgrave was exhibiting. "Anyway, I can't imagine having a relationship with a human. Especially with the change in our world recently. We can finally find someone we want, and not someone handed to us..." Dayle leaned off the couch to gently squeeze her sister's arm. "I'm glad you have."

The best she could do was offer her twin a soft smile and a shake of her head. "I didn't mean to channel Elsa, love. I just wish I had something to tell you besides, 'get out more.' But you've never lacked for suitors. Something, or someone, will come along eventually. I'm sure of it."
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Dayle's continued ribbing, but she couldn't exactly deny the allegations made. She and Ambrose had their louder moments, that was true.
She shook her head when Dayle changed the subject, as well. "I've had relationships with humans," she reminded her sister. "Eleven of them, if you recall. And they weren't unpleasant. Not all of them," she said, adding that quick qualifier.
Her smile was soft and melancholy. "There are some I would have liked to keep around longer, you know."

Dayle leaned her chin against her palm and let out a little sigh. "One of the things I admire Mum and Father the most for is because they have been together for so long. They may not be in the same house, let alone the same city or even the same country all the time, but they both have each other to come home to." Elsa and Richard had been husband and wife for some hundreds of years. She couldn't remember if they'd ever hinted how they did come to be together... Over the years her imagination filled in a whole host of possible reasons for their being together - outside of love, that is - but each time she tried to enumerate them she simply decided 'love was enough of a reason.'
She was aware that both of her adopted parents had taken human lovers over the years - much like she and her sister had, albeit in the guise of arranged marriages. Perhaps something Dayle needed to figure out was whether or not she wanted a short-term human toy, or a more permanent vampire lover, much like her sister. She wasn't much aware of it, but she'd said the last part of that aloud.

It hadn't occurred to her that Ambrose was... well, as Dayle put it, a permanent vampire lover. They'd never discussed the particulars of such things. Ysabel had never slept with a man outside of marriage, as a matter of fact, so having a lover, a boyfriend, or whatever Ambrose was, was entirely new to her. She didn't want to assume their arrangement was a permanent one. She and Ambrose just seemed to enjoy having each other around, without the necessity for defining limitations or boundaries.
"I've never really thought about it in that light, I suppose," she said, raising her blue-grey eyes to Dayl's identical ones. "I never really thought about what it would be like to have the same person around forever. Elsa and Richard have been together for centuries. I've considered it, and I've thought that I'd like to keep a husband around for longer, but I don't think it hit me until you said so now, just how long forever can be."
That gave her something to mull over, and she could begin to see where Dayle was coming from. "You can't let that stop you from trying to find your forever person, though, Dayle," she chided her sister. "We're finally really free to do so, and you shouldn't worry that he's human or vampire. I would have taken Ambrose as a human. I thought he was, for the longest time."
And it wouldn't have mattered, she thought with a little smile. Regardless of who or what he was or had been, she loved who Ambrose was now, and if he'd been human she'd have worked with that just as well.

Were she to meet someone and realize down the line that she loved them... How soon would she tell them? Six months, a year? When the questions started? Would their love be strong enough to overcome the sudden broadening of their minds, the opening of their eyes, as they began seeing what the vampire world was like through her eyes? Or would they freak out, feeling that from their point of view, the whole relationship had been a sham, since they hadn't known the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? She stopped short of thinking about lynch mobs, pitchforks and torches. A green-faced image popped into her head and she could hear a scottish accent saying something about eye jelly on toast. She closed her eyes and pushed that image away.
Dayle did not envy any vampires that chose human lovers for the pain they might go through in trying to explain... everything.
She listened as Ysabel observed that she would have taken Ambrose as a human. "But you were relieved he is not? Or did it just remove extra weight from your shoulders?"

"First of all, you're assuming you're going to tell said human what you are and possibly change them. Perhaps, perhaps not. What's wrong with you both being what you are? We've played the game many times before, Dayle... be the lover, the wife,watch as the human grows old and dies. If he or she really loves you, would it matter to them what you are?
"I suppose it's really your own perspective then. Is it that you yourself don't want a human lover who will grow old and die? You don't seem to have listed that as an option. You've got the human sex-toy and the human you 'fess up to and change. What's wrong with loving someone until death do, indeed, you part?"
Ysabel hadn't imagined Dayle was feeling so... philosophical. She considered the questions put to her, though.
"With Ambrose, I suppose it was more relief to find he wasn't someone's familiar. You know, I wasn't about to encroach upon someone's property, and once I saw him at Heolfor it was disappointing to realize he must be a familiar. I've never met a vampire without a leg, you know, so I thought for certain he was human. Once we cleared that up, though, I can't say I felt relief or weight off my shoulders. Curiosity perhaps, at having a vampire as a lover for the first time, but I would have had no issues with it if Ambrose had been human."

Dayle snorted. "No offense love, I will love you forever, but I'm bloody not well going to be sharing a bed with you for much other than girltalk."
She pointed at her sister accusingly. "You didn't answer my question, though. You haven't said if knowing Ambrose is a vampire has made it easier for you both."

"It is as it is, Dayle," she said softly. "We're not human, they're not vampires. Surely you may love a human with the understanding that they are different, and will not live as long."
But then again, she hadn't been cold, not exactly. She had had James, at one point, and Arthur after him. Their deaths had caused her grief, but she'd known beforehand. They were human, after all.
It was a difficult position, she supposed, but she couldn't say one way or the other what she would have done were Ambrose human. She would have cared for him all the same, gone through the routine again, and if and when the trust was there, perhaps she would have offered to turn him. Fortunately, she didn't have to think about it.
"I suppose there's the relief of not having to hide," she said carefully, "but has it made it any easier? No, I don't think so. There are plenty of little hills and bumps in the way with vampires as well as humans. Living for eternity has its effect on people as well as living the short span of human life, Dayle. I don't think it's a matter of easy or not easy."
She observed her twin with sympathetic eyes, wondering if it really was a fault of hers that the issue at hand didn't bother her anywhere near as much as it bothered Dayle.

Shuddering and shaking her mind to clear that memory's reign over mindspace she listened to her sister's comments about hiding. "Bumps occur in any relationship," she observed. "Remember when my one husband mistook you for me? We didn't talk for almost a month after that. But what you said there is what I was referring to - not having to hide the entirety of yourself. The truth by omission still feels like lying."