Crystal Meditations


Quietly staring into the glittering array of her crystal collection,
Elizabeth let her thoughts wander.  Mesmerized by the tiny rainbows of
prisming light, she saw red white yellow green flowing glacially along
the walls as the display case turned its gradual minuet.

Spencer was still dead.  She believed she only imagined that his ghost
haunted her, by turns her witty companion and her sharp tongued nemesis;
sometimes he laughed with her, sometimes at her.  Gregory was still dead
too.  Gregory... she would not think of him.

Cynthia was shaping up nicely, she made herself think as she shied away
from certain memories she did not wish to indulge.  Last night at the
Church Cynthia had done very well, at least until Mariano had arrived.
She had immediately sensed Cynthia's discomfort with Mariano - her
ability to read people's emotions and social reactions was supplemented
by her highly trained vampiric awareness of their mental states - and
scanned her protege's thoughts for the cause.  The scan had not been
particularly fruitful - Cynthia herself was not sure of the reason.
Elizabeth theorized that it could be that she felt her expertise in
question by him - that he had the more years of experience to make
Cynthia doubt herself professionally.  Or it could simply be that he was
Nosferatu... many felt uncomfortable in their presence, and Cynthia had
had a very bad experience with the anarch Nosferatu called Chad.

A delicate spiralling horn caught the light and Gregory seeped in around
the edges again.  Darkness threatened to absorb the light.  A blood red
tear slowly slid down an ivory cheek, dropped to soak invisibly into
wine-colored cloth.  "Why hello, Liz," said Spencer's voice.  Elizabeth
did not turn; she did not want to see the ghostly form.  Aural
hallucinations were bad enough.

"Spencer, my dear," she said.  Her voice was steady, friendly: her
instrument to control, for long years now.  She smiled, though she still
stared into the crystal display.  "I was admiring my collection.  So
soothing, so much beauty and fragile strength."

"What has happened that you need soothing, dear Liz?  I hope it is
something transient only."  The ghost seemed to be in a good mood
tonight.

"Everything is transient, if one waits long enough, is it not?  I was
commenting merely on how much I enjoy these works of art, not implying
there was such a need.  Mild annoyance at most.  Your ersatz progeny,
now my protege, displayed her nascent harpy skills for me last night,
and I allowed the beauty of the crystal to soothe any irritation at her
few lapses."

"Oh yes.  She did rather manage to insult the new Brujah.  Fortunate for
her they like such treatment."  Spencer laughed.

Elizabeth shivered slightly.  She knew he was a hallucination because he
always knew things, everything.  He was a figment of her imagination,
one that somehow had gained independence.  She wondered if she should
discuss it with Cynthia, who was, after all, professionally adept at
dealing with things like this.  But she had always thought that would
affect their relationship inappropriately - and after all it was not so
bad, seeing the ghost of her old companion.  Thinking she saw.  It even
helped sometimes.

"She has her own style, a rather attractive one of frankness and humor.
She holds her own.  It is not that I found frustrating, it is her
reaction to the good Doctor, her fellow psychologist.  She does not like
him; he discomfits her unduly.  She needs to learn to control her
reaction around the Nosferatu as a whole - they are valuable, even if
hideous.  Being at odds with them could undermine any Kindred - it is a
weakness she cannot afford."

Spencer pshaw'ed.  "You can't blame a young Toreador for being disgusted
by the uglies," he said.  "Give her time, she'll get used to them.  And
if frankness is her thing, maybe they'll like that.  It isn't like they
don't know how disgusting they are."

Elizabeth nodded.  "Of course.  You are right, Spencer dear."  She kept
her other theory to herself.  She did not want to get in an argument
with an imaginary friend... how humiliating that would be.  She smiled
to herself, and stood.  As she turned she heard a faint swoosh of air
and the vision of Spencer departed.  "Farewell, old friend," she said
softly.  "Au revoir."