"I was born to Darkness in the midst of a storm.”

Reason | Fictlet | Headcanon

At first he’d tried to reason with himself that it was nothing more than a physical attraction, brought on in no small part by the fact that he’d been cooped up for so long with Marius as his only company.

And there was no shame in that was there? The older vampire was, after all, easy on the eyes; tall and strongly built, and admittedly Daniel had always had some small soft spot for blondes. And Marius’ eyes, so blue, that same blue of deep ocean waters glittering under sunlight that Daniel would never again see. There were times, ever increasing it seemed, that he had to force himself to look away, lest he be caught staring into them. Yes, at first he’d reasoned it was entirely physical, that pull he’d begun to feel, and he took some measure of comfort in that. A mere physical attraction was something he could suffer through and, in time, forget. He’d managed that well enough with his own maker, when their interactions after his turning had, over time, become little more than polite and distant encounters, their increasing clashings of mind and will driving a wedge further and further between them. Yes, Daniel could suffer and survive a physical attraction. He was well adept at that. 

It was harder however, as time went on, to hold to that reasoning, when he would seek the Marius out to ask him some question without any true importance, merely to hear him speak; and he’d also, almost unwittingly, found himself saying things with the intent and hope of making his caretaker smile, or if he was very lucky, to make him laugh – both reactions drawing the corners of his own mouth up and causing some place in the vicinity of his chest to warm when he succeeded.

The most damning things though, by far, were Daniel’s restless unease when Marius would leave their home without him, and he would wander aimless and sullen, at times verging on tears when the ancient was gone to almost sunrise, until his return; and he’d begun to feel a strange comfort in knowing he could enter the study on any given night and find the older vampire with a book in hand, the warm light of the lamps illuminating his face, and that uttering a single word would cause Marius to look up, his face almost always holding that infinitely patient and kind expression. Damning, that when Marius would speak his name, his head would snap up instantaneously and a strange rush of emotion would rise against all his attempts to subdue it.

Yes; at first he’d tried to reason, but more and more reason seemed to be losing ground.

|| Headcanon: While living in San Francisco, before he started working at the radio station, Daniel worked in a diner to make ends meet and pay for his shitty little studio apartment. ||

|| Headcanon: Daniel misses food. He actually loved food, for how sporadically and how little he was eating toward the end of his mortal life. He loves the smell of specific things for that reason; coffee, diner food, hot apple pie. He misses the sensory experience of biting into a greasy cheeseburger, crisp, hot french fries, and he’d fucking kill for the ability to have just one more chocolate milkshake.  He also had an unholy love for candy. His hometown had a candy kitchen, one he was banned from in his teens due to the anti-gay sentiment in the community, and as a result he had a raging sweet tooth all through his twenties. || 

Wilton, Iowa Population: 2,839

“The first settler to build a home the area that was to be known as Wilton in the new state of Iowa (1846) was Mr. Christian Marolf who came in July 1849, and erected of a small log house opposite the German Lutheran church. When he built his home Mr. Marolf could only see one the home of Mr. Stearns just west of town on the south side of the Moscow road. Mr. Marolf was soon followed by Mr. Ben Maurer in 1850 whose land now comprises North Wilton and Peter Marolf in 1851, which is now known as Marolf’s addition. North Wilton is at present (1947) not within the corporate limits of Wilton. The city was once home to the Wilton German English College from 1894 to 1905. The campus of the college was later turned into City Park, and some of the college’s buildings remain to this day.”

|| Headcanon: While living in San Francisco, before he started working at the radio station, Daniel worked in a diner to make ends meet and pay for his shitty little studio apartment. ||

In The World But Not Of It | Headcanon | Fictlet

Once he’d overcome his initial reticence of crowds after so long in near isolation, Daniel’s zeal for exploration was almost uncontrollable. Once Marius had allowed him the freedom to venture through the city unaccompanied, he’d busied himself the best way he could think of as a distraction from his fraught and confused feelings for the older immortal; by plunging into life, much as he once had with Armand, but now he too was unrestricted and unfettered by the mortal coil.

He wandered for hours amid street fairs and markets, dazzled by multicolored linens, hanging displays of fruit and flowers, by street vendors that dipped candles by hand as tourists watched. He purchased little cups of the various local foods just to carry them in hand and smell the different scents, poked and prodded the contents to examine the array of textures and colors each had, the way sauces congealed, noodles tangled, how fried things sizzled for a few moments after leaving the oil and left a greasy slick on the papers they rested on. He held parrots and monkeys on display for entertainment or sale, touched feathers and fur, he wound a monstrous snake around his shoulders and paid the 10 reais for a Polaroid of it.

And once he’d learned enough of the local lingo he struck up conversations with anyone who would pay him the time of night; it didn’t matter the person’s status or gender, so long as they were willing to talk. He learned of the countries politics, of urban legends, of local histories. All of it fascinated him.

But at the end of the night when he returned, there was never enough of it to keep that feeling from returning the moment he saw his companion, those blue eyes making him momentarily forget almost everything he’d gone out and experienced.

|| Headcanon: Daniel’s vocabulary is something of a mishmash due to the decades he’s from, the parts he missed while he was mentally out to lunch, and what’s modern colloquialisms. As a result he’ll sometimes interject with something that is wildly out of date. Slang known to have come out of his face in mixed company:

Sometimes he’ll explain himself. Usually there’s just uncomfortable silence. ||

Wilton, Iowa Population: 2,839

“The first settler to build a home the area that was to be known as Wilton in the new state of Iowa (1846) was Mr. Christian Marolf who came in July 1849, and erected of a small log house opposite the German Lutheran church. When he built his home Mr. Marolf could only see one the home of Mr. Stearns just west of town on the south side of the Moscow road. Mr. Marolf was soon followed by Mr. Ben Maurer in 1850 whose land now comprises North Wilton and Peter Marolf in 1851, which is now known as Marolf’s addition. North Wilton is at present (1947) not within the corporate limits of Wilton. The city was once home to the Wilton German English College from 1894 to 1905. The campus of the college was later turned into City Park, and some of the college’s buildings remain to this day.”

Muscatine County, Iowa: 1970 | Short Story | Headcanon

You son of a bitch, get your scrawny ass back here Molloy!“ 

The heat from the late afternoon sun baked down on everything beneath its rays. It scorched the swards of farmland, the dry dirt roads that cut across them and linked to the infrequent two-lane paved roads stretching from one small town to the next, and Daniel’s sweat-drenched shoulders and neck as he ran. Yards behind and gaining on him the truck kicked up dust and gravel as it bounced down the narrow road, its occupants, his upperclassmen from the high school, whooping and yelling as they pursued him. Darting to his left he cut into a cornfield and kept going. The truck pulled to a sharp stop and he heard the opening and slamming of the doors.

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