Having explored the Cruise Liner and discovering no life on board Sabbath Black and the Angel version of Cameron Scott albeit most likely of darkened aspirations found quarters. Cam led her to what was referred to as the Palace. Essentially the Presidential Suite in the memory of a certain Mouse Creator. Luxury at it's finest. Even in the faded light both could see in the darkness perfectly. A large set of French doors leading off of the room found a private pool although small. If only it had water.
Amid the closet of the room were clothing left behind by prior residents. Wherever they went they left with very little. The ship was near perfect condition in every way save for a coat of dust. Sifting the closets contents Sabbath discovered stunning gowns. Swimwear. Even a fur coat of Mink. All beautiful and befitting someone of power. She tried on numerous outfits with a joyful expression. She looked magnificent. Even though she could not see herself in a mirror. Still she tried. Posing as if a model.
As she stares at an empty mirror something captures her eye. It was almost as if she could see movement within it. Could it be that her Vampirism was shifting inside her seeking to let the real Sabbath Black ironically step into the light? The light of her true self. If not she fidgeted, what else could it be?
She hears a loud popping noise that startles her. Her study of the mirror given up on in favor of the noise. Stepping cautiously out of the closet she spots Cameron Scott holding a bottle of Champagne. Two glasses in hand. Dressed to kill. She worried of that probability. Trying not to let him see and read her thoughts. This Cameron seemed to not share the bond as heavily with her as the other Cameron. That in itself spooked her slightly. Yet, this Cameron seemed so sweet. Still the same persona. Yet, something was amiss.
"You look handsome." She tries to be cordial.
"Yeah? It's Armani. A famous clothing designer born long after you were. If I do say so myself I could easily be the next James Bond. Bubbly? Shaken not stirred." He laughs.
Pouring champagne she accepts her glass sniffing at it. She had been a Vampire so long now that the memory of certain scents escaped her. Even the taste. Regardless the bubbles tickled her nose in a sensitive manner. Her fusing cells of microbes expectant of a meal of any kind. In her case Sabbath felt their appetite not unlike her bloodlust. Yet, these microbes helped contain her need for human blood. Of that she was thankful. They although would require sustenance at some point.
"Try it. It's a good vintage. Found it in the ships Wine Cellar. Oh, right. Not used to anything but blood. Let's hope we can change that. Funny, but even though my body is a Hodge Podge of dark bullshit I feel the light inside. The Cameron soul is keeping me sane. I think." He laughs with a smirk setting the bottle on a table.
"You do not feel the influence of Lilith or Verago?"
"Not really. Fingers crossed I never do. I feel pretty darn good actually. I know one thing."
"What is that?"
"I care about a certain British Beauty." He steps closer to admire her cleavage behind her red dress. His left hand palming the small of her back and tugging her to his chest.
Smiling brightly he clinks his glass against hers.
"Too you. Good times. No more bad." He invites.
She wanted to believe in him. He was so charming. Yet, so was the original Cameron. All she could do was give him a chance. Feeling his heart rate pulsing she sensed he was being genuine. She would form her opinion another day. For now she loved her new surroundings.
"Wish we had some Tommy Dorsey."
"Tommy Dorsey?" She tilts her head with a confused look.
Cam nods, "Yep. Big band sound. One of the best. Jazz, Swing. You would have loved his stuff. I know you like dancing." The name Dorsey suddenly made him recall the Military Officer that killed the Ganthorians. Lucas Dorsey. Eyes narrowing he changes his mind.
"Better yet Guy Lombardo. Anyway. No such music. How about I just hum a tune?"
He begins with humming one song then grins changing the song to another fond memory. Bobby Darin's Jack the Knife. This time he sang it. Taking her on a tender dance. She glowed at his performance. It was so cute. He was a pretty decent dancer. In his romantic gesture her microbial cellmates caught on and hummed the instrumental. Feeding off of Cameron's emotions. He allowed them in. Something he had not allowed Sabbath.
Still she let it go. Enjoying herself. Clear until the final dip. Laughter shared by both. It was magical. To say the least.
"That was fun." She smiled taking the risk of sipping her Champagne. The taste making her wince at first then bite her lower lip. She finished it off in two gulps.
"Well now! Someone likes the vine more than the vein."
"It is quite good."
In there moment of fawning eyes something outside makes them hesitate. Both sensing a disturbance. He starts to lead Sabbath by hand toward the French Door when she pulls away.
"Cameron? The moon."
"Crap. Sorry. Almost forgot. I'll go check it out. You get comfy. Pour another glass. Be back in a minute."
"Be careful."
"Babe! I battled through hell to get to you."
She is taken by surprise at his statement. Had he really?
Storming through the door he marches out on to the landing and senses a commotion. It sounded like a primitive language stressed out. Fearful yet amazed. Unable to see over the sides due to the rooms centered structure he took his jacket, tie, cummerbund, and shirt off to entice his dark wings out of his back.
Sabbath witnessed his transformation and taking flight. It was a thing of beauty. Perhaps he was not as bad as she worried he might be. Her emotions mixed. She just missed the Cameron who was. This Cameron who might still be. It was the heritage that spawned his return that ruined her emotions.
Outside Cameron flew high and glared about toward the grounds surrounding the ship. Below to his shock were hundreds of glowing people. Frolicking about without menace. It was obvious that the ships Passengers were somehow in a state of flux. Here. Not here. Spirits? Regardless it was not they that created the commotion. It was the Neanderthals. They were walking amongst the spirits as if trying to communicate with them. It was an interesting situation.
His decision made Cameron fluttered his wings into a downward spiral and arcs his body for a soft landing amid the ghosts. The second he touched the ground the spirits halted movement. All looking directly at him. Without malice. Merely inquisitive.