Causin' problems makes you famous

There was something about Tuesdays that bothered Vito Dee Symons. He, of course, didn’t know exactly why they did, but something about that particular day of the week always made him feel rather off of his game. Sometimes, the day wasn’t as bad as usual, but Vito still loathed Tuesdays, and the rather amusing part about that fact was that most people hated Mondays, but Vito had settled for the very next day.

However, Vito was determined to win against Tuesday for once.

Slowly, the man climbed out of his comfortable bed in the best of the bedrooms on the second floor of Satin’s- the only bedroom on that floor that wasn’t available to the people willing to pay for a room –and looked in the mirror as he stood at his bedside, only to be startled by what he saw; Vito. He could see himself in the reflective glass before him, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. The poltergeist stumbled forward in surprise, getting as close to the mirror as he could without actually pressing his face to the glass, and stood there like that for a moment, examining his every facial feature in order to prove to himself that it was, in fact, his reflection that he was seeing.

Why on earth was this such a shocking thing for Vito to see after just waking up in the morning? Simple. Ever since the beginning of Vito Dee Symons, it had always been the same; Vito had to dedicate quite a lot of his mind to concentrate on keep his appearance, appearing, well... human, and therefore, Vito never woke up in the morning and saw his reflection in the mirror, because he hadn’t been able to concentrate in such a way while he had been sleeping.

For some reason, that morning, that rule didn’t apply- or, Vito hadn’t been sleeping as well as he thought he had, but whatever reason, it was still a rather exciting thing for Vito, and he was instantly put in the best mood he had been in in a very long time. “I impressed and was impressed, as it was meant to be,” Vito said to himself in a sing-song voice, reciting a line in a poem he had once heard that had appealed to him, as he stretched, yawned, and made his way over to his wardrobe.

-

“Sir, we have other people waiting, I’m sorry but we cant just bump you to the front of the line like that, you are going to either have to wait two more hours in those waiting chairs over there or you are going to have to leave and come back tomorrow and try to be the first one to sign in for a haircut,” a rather obnoxious young female explained, resting her chin in her palm and her elbow against the desk she was sitting behind, a bored expression on her young face. Eighteen, and they don’t pay her well either, Vito decided easily, judging by her attitude towards her job and the childish look to her facial features that she hadn’t yet grown out of. She was rather attractive, but she didn’t have red hair, and that was usually something that Vito looked for in women- besides, he didn’t exactly enjoy the way she was speaking to him, and had he been in a bad mood, he probably would have exploded.

Instead, however, he smirked and pulled an unknown amount of money in a neatly folded pile out of his pocket, and placed It down on the desk before her, “They aren’t paying you enough to put up with all these bothersome people- what with whining children tearing up the place and b!tchy females complaining about their split ends…” Vito said in that quiet and smooth voice of his, pushing the money forward, resting his own chin in his palm, watching as the female took the money in her hand, examined it, and smirked back in Vito’s direction. Well, at least money was something everyone enjoyed, because it made things that much easier for him in situations such as that.

“This way, sir,” the female said as she walked over to the other half of the place, keeping her fingers wrapped around the wad of money from inside her pocket. Vito grinned.

-

“Now… what to do with the rest of the day,” The man wondered aloud as he made his way down the streets of the nicer half of London where the muggles didn’t clutter the streets; Vito didn’t care for the blood status wizards and witches obsessed over, but some muggles got on his nerves, and he really didn’t want to ruin the day, because so far he was dong a pretty good job at screwing with Tuesday. Things were going his way, and as long as he avoided any… pests, he could keep it that way for the time being. “A smoke, and then I can head over to a nice restraint,” he decided.

Jack did not want to stick around the house. Waking up in her own home always seemed to put her in a bad mood. Her parents were revolting and her brother was having a great time who knew where, so she was stuck fending for herself. Too bad her mother was nagging at her, trying to figure out where she had gotten the practically unnoticeable scar on her hairline. What do you say to your muggle mother. 'I got it dueling with a blood thirsty Death Eater. Don't think so.

So she snuck out before the sun had even rose. She apparated to London and spent her time wandering for a good amount of time. She stopped first for breakfast, having swiped some muggle money from her mother, and treated herself to some quality eggs and bacon. She continued her ambling down the street in boredom. She had no idea what time it was when she slipped inside an ice cream shop.

"A soda please, I don't care, um, Coke," she said distractedly, scanning the ice cream menu, licking her lips. Something...anything...with chocolate sounded perfect. Finally, she said, "And a double chocolate fudge brownie scoop." She smiled and received her drink after sliding over the money. She sipped from the straw of the fountain drink cup, slurping noisily. She turned and rested her back against the door, glancing out the tinted windows. She stopped drinking immediately.

Fate could be fickle. The second she turned, she saw a certain, all-to-familiar poltergeist strolling by. Jack blinked once and stared.

The last time she had seen Vito, he had his hand gripped tightly around her throat, but she had also come to a shocking revelation, which she had shared with him. She did not hate him. She had recently discovered why, but he had never heard her findings and she wondered where they stood.

Before it had been complex to those around them, but simple to them. They were rivals, enemies turned chums depending on the mood. Though of course, there was always a somewhat malicious intent behind everything they did, whether for revenge or to get ahead in the game they had invented.

Nevertheless, all of that had hit the fan when they had both revealed a little too much of the parts of them they tried desperately to hide. That was where they were too similar. Both had these confident, cool outer characters that managed to hide the inner character that they hid from everyone, even themselves. Jack was dismayed to have seen a weak personality come out of her during her last visit with Vito.

Unfortunately, whenever she saw Vito, Jack became even bolder than usual. So as he strode by, she began to walk away from the counter. "Miss, your ice cream! Miss! You paid for your ice cream! Are you coming ba-"

Jack was already out the door, her soda in her hand. She saw him striding away, the back of his head bobbing. He looked slightly different than the last time she had seen him, though she did not know what that meant. She turned and began striding after him, taking up a quick pace before she fell into step with Vito. She had no idea what to say so she slurped loudly from her fountain drink, glancing up at Vito, raising an eyebrow, taking on her usual mischievous expression.

Step, step, step, step, Vito’s face took on an expression of curiosity and suspicion when he heard a second pair of footsteps join his, walking behind him at a quick pace before joining him at his side. At first, Vito didn’t look to his left to see who it was; he wanted, for some strange reason, to try and guess who it was that had joined him on his walk around London, but the slurping noise gave it away. Jack.

The poltergeist looked over to meet the female’s gaze, and couldn’t help but smirk. A part of Vito was glad to see her again, simply because he had questions that needed answering and he had thought for a week or so that he wasn’t ever going to receive answers to those questions- but then there was the other half of Vito’s brain that was complaining about having to give up his good mood in order to speak with Jack.

“You know, that is a really obnoxious noise, and while it is a lot less irritating than your actual voice, I’m afraid I don’t understand whatever language straws speak,” He said mockingly and turned his eyes away from her to watch where he was walking once more.

There was an odd feeling between the two after all that had happened; it was an odd mixture of hostility, curiosity, and suspicion- or, perhaps, it was only Vito that was wondering where they stood. He was having a bit of trouble thinking of how to go about asking the questions that had been troubling him.

Well, here was a good place to start, “I could have killed you if I’d felt like doing so, you know,” he stated- OK, so maybe that wasn’t really that good of a place to start, but Vito wasn’t exactly a kind person, or, even, the type of person who cared for others’ ‘feelings’. “So why did you say that you don’t hate me?” Vito continued, but didn’t stop walking. His voice didn’t hold any of the anger it had the evening the two of them had last seen each other, in fact, due to the fact that Vito had had a pleasant surprise when he had awoken in the morning, he didn’t sound anything other than curious.

At his snide remark, Jack grinned to herself, biting on her straw as they walked along. It almost made her feel like they were back to normal, whatever normal was. It was like they were back to their usual bantering selves for a second.

"Oh, you don't know straw language?" she said, looking up at him as though she were surprised. "Well let me translate. I said 'Hello, Vito. You look ordinary today, Must be the haircut.'" She knew the comment about his look would irritate him. He did not like to seem subpar. Though, in Jack's opinion he did favor an ordinary style of dress. Unlike her, who was wearing her usual black skinny jeans, a band t-shirt, a pinstriped coat that flapped around her knees, and Converse laced upside down.But she figured that the fact she had noticed his haircut might feed his ego enough to level it out.

Wow, he had already jumped the gun and brought up their last encounter. So it had been on his mind too? She replied to his comment about killing her by saying, "Now are you bragging or are you stating a fact." She said it half-teasingly, and half out of sincere curiosity.

Then he came to the question she had been waiting for. For a few moments, she continued walking, biting her lip. She had run this conversation through her head a hundred times between now and that night, but she discarded all of her answers. Presented with the situation now, they all sounded wrong.

Finally she began to answer, speaking slowly and in a measure voice, "Your job...is to hate. You were created in hate, and therefore you hate. The Death Eaters hate. That role is filled. And if you were created because someone was filed with hate...Well I don't want to make the same...decision." She felt that the word mistake would sound too harsh. "It's against my nature to hate. I don't want to be like you." She half-smiled, as though to say that was not to be taken in offense. "I have to be me. Hate is just not for me. And you have enough hate following you around. I can be pissed at you, but I won't hate you." She continued walking, having said this all as though stating the facts. In a different voice she said, "Besides..." No, she did not want to go there. "Yeah. That's it."

Ordinary was a foul word. Vito wasn’t ordinary, no, he knew that for himself. In his eyes, his every feature was as perfect as it was ever going to get, and near-perfection sure wasn’t ordinary. But the fact that Jack had pointed out the fact that he had gotten a haircut filled him with a sense of pride, as if she had given him a gold star; it didn’t matter who it was coming from, if anyone pointed out anything about his appearance in a somewhat positive way, Vito would take it as a compliment, and Vito fed off of compliments almost as much as he fed off of the chaos he created.

Now was time for the conversation that Vito just knew he wouldn’t enjoy; sure, he would finally get an answer to the question that had been running through his head ever since he had last seen the young women, but that also meant he was getting an answer to his question. There really was no winning in such a situation.

Vito listened to her speak in that irritatingly young voice of hers as the two of them walked towards the restaurant Vito had been heading towards when he had exited the hair salon, but he had to looked over in the opposite direction as the girl when he felt his expression of mock-irritation turn into one of surprise; by the time she had finished explaining herself, Vito felt as if he had been kicked in the gut by someone who was skilled in martial arts, and he would have doubled over, had he not been trying his hardest to keep Jack from noticing that her words had had such a huge impact on him.

He himself hadn’t even thought about why he was the way he was or the fact that he so very often felt an uncontrollable hatred towards the world harboring deep within him, and to hear someone else speak those thoughts he had refused to allow fill his mind, aloud, was almost too much for him to handle. The hardest part about that feeling of complete shock that had so suddenly washed over him was that he wasn’t shocked and enraged, he was shocked and actually felt somewhat pained.

That had been the most human-like emotion Vito could ever remembering feeling in his ‘lifetime’, and so, naturally, he stopped dead in his tracks and ran a hand through his recently-trimmed hair, hoping that Jack would spare him and keep her eyes ahead of her, rather than looking back at the expression that had taken over Vito’s facial features.

Jack heard the footsteps next to her stop after awhile and she continued on for a few feet, wondering if he would catch up. When he didn't she stopped, but she stayed looking forward. She bit her lip, her eyes searching the horizon, giving away nothing, though at the moment, there was no one to show.

Anyone else would have found it strange, the way they were now, one ten feet in front of the other, stopped still on the sidewalk. To them, it was not strange, because there was no way that their 'relationship'- whatever it was defined as- was strange. This was not exactly comfortable, but it was more painful than being face to face.

Jack was not sure if she had said it right. It was just so hard to explain. She did not want to make it sound like she was better than him. This was not about their, endless, pointless, vendetta. This was actually more or less serious. She had got the beginning answers that night at Satin's. But that was not all she wanted to know.

She wanted to know why he was so nasty just because he had been created in such a cruel way. Plenty of people moved on from things like that, and yet Vito would kill at the drop of a hat. Yet he actually seemed affected when his past was brought up. For a cold, emotionless killer, this was not something you dropped.

Jack did not know how it was she was the one delving into Vito Dee Symon's past and beginnings and his secret feelings. Their rivalry had made them get to know each other, but it was surface things. What made them tick, what could get under their skin, what was too far, how they were angry...It was things not many people knew, but it was still surface stuff.

She sighed a resigned sigh, full of reasons to sigh. She sighed because she did not know why she was here. She sighed because she did not know what to do next. She sighed because the wrong secrets were being spilled, and others weren't being said. She sighed because this was too complex for her usually simple life.

Finally, she took a risk and turned, grimacing, refusing to react to whatever she saw. What she saw was a partially shocked Vito. It took all her will power to keep from looking surprised herself. Instead, she forced herself to say in a level, quiet voice, "What are you thinking, Vito?" It was a question asking for a straight forward answer. It did not sound earnest nor curious, just stated. She did not think he would appreciate her knowing that he had been affected.

He still hadn’t recovered by the time Jack at turned around, and allowed himself to feel frustrated once more, “You weren’t suppose to turn around…” he grumbled before started forward again. There were several parts to Vito that made him who he was:

1)there was the side of him that was cold, threatening, and uncaring,
2)There was that part of Vito that seemed somewhat tolerable that was a result of him being in a good mood
3)another part, which was completely closed off from the world
4) and then there was that part of him that he had just been caught showing; that part of Vito that was meant to be locked away forever, but sometimes found a way to escape.

The problem with the fact that Vito had been so effected by Jack’s little speech, was that it lead him from number 4 on that list, to number 3; a state of indifference that was so extreme it almost seemed as if he were just a shadow of himself. “I’m thinking that I should head towards a restaurant… come if you want, I don’t really care,” he said in a tone of voice so low that it was almost inaudible. He slipped his hands into his pockets and stared ahead at the streets which a few cars were driving down, appearing relatively calm even as he was attacked by thoughts that he never would have wanted to have filled his head.

You weren’t suppose to murder your past creators, and now you don’t have one because you screwed with the balance of things. You saw yourself in the mirror when you woke up today, but do you know why? Because you’ve f*cked everything up. This happened before, remember? No, you don’t remember? Think hard, Vito, think hard back to the first time you were created … what happened the last morning you were there? Hmmm? You saw your reflection first thing after you got out of bed. Your going to vanish again, Vito, and when you wake up, you’ll be in a completely different place, lost and worthless, Vito scowled; every though, all of it could have been avoided- no, it couldn’t have, you got too curious about that girl, and you got your answers, didn’t you? You cant avoid these thoughts forever, Vito. You cant avoid what you are forever, came the mocking words that echoed within his mind.

Shut up!

But he didn’t say those words aloud, for he feared it would appear as if something was getting to him. Jack couldn’t know that he was being eaten alive by his thoughts. He wouldn’t be able to handle her mocking words when it was about his past…

Jack saw the anger stir behind his eyes and she raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. "I wasn't aware of the rules." He began walking again, looking lost in thought and overly frustrated. She watched him pass by her and she heard his growled words. She watched after him for a second and then made up her mind.

She turned and followed after him, her hands in her pockets again. She stayed slightly behind him and to the side, not wanting to disturb his thoughts. She knew exactly how dangerous that would be and she also knew that she was pushing subjects that ought not to be pushed.

Why was she handling this situation with an abnormal delicacy? Usually she would have demanded answers, but she could not lie. She had seen something in Vito, something slightly pathetic (though she would never use that word in front of him), and she felt bad for the guy. What could have possibly pushed him to make him so cold-hearted. And more importantly, was he really that cold-hearted.

She realized that she was falling behind so she sped up and fell into step with Vito. She walked alongside him in silence, realizing how drastically different the atmosphere was now. "Where we off to then?"

“I’m not sure yet, but I want to eat, and have a smoke. That’s where I was headed when you caught up with me,” Vito replied, forcing the words out in his usual, smooth voice as he, for a moment, battled his thoughts, trying his hardest not to admit that he was somewhat afraid of what would happen to everything that he had worked hard to build up for himself if he ‘died’ again.

It had been twenty-something years since the last time he had, and he really wasn’t sure if he would remember how to handle it if it happened again. For the longest time Vito had thought that he had finally been given the opportunity to stay in one place, under one creator, for as long as he wished, but now that he actually took the time to think about it, there was a possibility that he could disappear later that very evening.

Vito glanced at Jack for the first time since she had first joined him during his walk to the nearest restaurant, with an expression that wasn’t too serious, “I was in a brilliant mood today. Felt great,” he said with a grin, slipping his hands into his pockets; he would address his problems later, he decided, it wasn’t worth ruining his reputation with Jack- though he was sure he didn’t think highly of him in the first place.

Rounding a corner, Vito inhaled the warm summer air, he needed a cigarette, or a cigar, but he would fight the nicotine fit until they arrived at their destination. Why? He wasn’t exactly sure, but for some reason just walking with his hands in his pockets, breathing in the summer air that would never taste as wonderful as cigarette smoke, made Vito feel as if he were walking on a line, and if he did anything different at all, that he would either fall over to the edge of unexplainable rage once more, or the other side, which he feared even more; the bottomless pit that was filled with dark thoughts and dread.

And so Vito walked along the line, one foot in front of the other, his nose in the air.

Jack nodded at his statement, wrinkling her nose as usual when he mentioned getting something to smoke. She really did hate cigars and cigarettes, but she had grudgingly learned to tolerate it, with the time spent around Vito and her very own mother, who did not seem to function correctly unless they were inhaling nicotine.

He muttered something about having been in a great mood and a smile unfurled on her face as she glanced up at him. "Hey, you asked the question, not me." She almost added Sorry for being a decent person and not hating you, but that was a little like overkill, and when you came right down to it, it was not that funny anyway.

She turned her thoughts to this whole process of becoming a poltergeist. So, Vito was just thought up then? It was astounding to think that human thoughts could create a being that could function on its own, appear human, even disappear, and be as complex as any ordinary person on the street. The power of human thought astounded her.

But the thought of how by just adding hate into them mix changed everything, scared her. She always knew that her side, the side that opposed the Death Eaters, had the power of love to back them up. But Death Eaters had hate. And if hateful thoughts had conjured up someone like Vito, who was a mini-army in himself, it scared her to think that there could be more.

"There's too much hate."

She closed her mouth. She had meant to continue this dialogue in her head, but it had slipped out. They way she had said it sounded almost hopeless, as thought they could never defeat the waves of hate that they were up against. It seemed impossible at the moment.

But now she was distracted about trying to figure out if Vito was going to go nuts or not. She glanced around the street and pointed at a dingy little pub. "That looks like a place for a drink and a smoke." She hoped the distraction of alcohol and nicotine would be enough to get Vito's mind off of her last statement.