[Sunday] [RP] Wake Up in an Unusual Place

[pallor_m0rtis]

[Corbin needs a tag, Mod-types. As apparently I won't just have Kori here. >.> *Peer-pressure!* Haha.
Entirely for the random factor, not his storyline. Or, maybe, I'll decide after.
Blood/Gore warning for the sensitive sorts.]

It might have been a lie to say that Corbin always woke up somewhere he was familiar with; some nights he woke up with

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[pallor_m0rtis]

Corbin's gaze shifted towards the door, broken from his contemplation of the camera when Hector returned, and with some kid that looked about the same pale as death shade as himself but the obvious fact that the newcomer had a pulse and the subtle cues of life convinced Corbin it was more because of the view in the room than a natural tone.

He had to bite his lower lip to keep from laughing when Hector's shadow started harking and yelping over all the gore and slime.

"Really?" He wouldn't have expected that, not in a dozen years; not in the form of some wild-eyed, complaining creature that looked ready to bolt. That was Hector's efforts to continue his legacy of death magic and supernatural power?
As humorous as it was, he still a fair amount of respect for Hector and didn't point out any of that amusement, only nodded in greeting to Lacroix and studied him for a lingering moment.

Maybe there was more to the kid than the surface, he wasn't a mage himself so Corbin was no judge of what might lie under the obvious; but the obvious was pretty damn funny.
And he wasn't know for his amazing social skills but at least he had made an effort; Hector knew it took some actual effort to gain anything more than a speculative glance from him at first.

[hector_styles]

“Just the floor, Lacroix,” Hector assured, hoping that would ease his apprentice’s reluctance if but only a little. He knew it was asking a lot to thrust this level of gore onto the young mage, especially when he hadn’t done anything particularly disappointing to deserve a punishment, but he planned on making it up to Lacroix later. Somehow. “I’ll come check on you later.”

It might have seemed a little cold, but Hector had cleaned and polished a great number of his mentor Ghede’s rooms and artifacts when he’d been young; it was simply the way a mentor-apprentice relationship was meant to be. Chores like this would increase Lacroix’s tolerance to gore, which was important, if nothing else.

“Let’s talk in the sitting room,” Hector then told Corbin, and stepped back outside to lead him to the very monochromatic living room. As he led the way, he spoke quietly the vampire, just to defend Lacroix’s behavior a little; Lacroix was still new to this, and it was understandable that he’d be a little skittish. “He’s quite young and has yet to grow accustomed to the darker aspects of our craft. Perhaps this will help him do just that.” But he quieted down after that; after all, Lacroix was going to have to come back this way to get the mop, and he didn’t want to talk about the other mage to Corbin right in front of Lacroix.

Hector took a seat on one of the black coffin couches, and shifted the conversation to the film. It was easier to remain his usual calm out here where he didn’t have to look at the gore covering his years worth of collected bones. “What precisely was your motivation for taking the film to... that level?” It was a curious question; he really wasn’t angry, knew that everything would get cleaned up eventually.

[lacroix_styles]

"Yeah, yanno...just to make sure I haven't slipped and died in a puddle of-" Lacroix grimaced and stepped back to avoid another splash from the ceiling landing on his sneakers, "-whatever the hell that is."

Clean the nasty gore up; where didn't they have a housekeeper for that stuff?
Oh yeah, because everything was secrets and mirrors in the Styles abode and for a moment Lacroix had forgotten that; all the dirty work fell to the poor loser on the lower end of the chain of command.
It really was no fun being the new guy.

"You don't have to leave me alone in here," he mentioned when Hector started for the doorway, "Hector? Really, I won't listen...I promise."

Yeah, for all the good that did him a few seconds later when he was standing there by himself trying not to think too much about the carnage around him.

"You're a real jerk tonight," he grumbled at Hector's retreating form and stalked off to retrieve a mop; going stock still when a crunch sounded under his sneakers.
Gazing downward and lifting his heel only revealed the shattered bits of what looked like a piece of ribcage still half stuck to the floor.

With a distinct shudder and a bolt down the hallway towards the storage closet Lacroix really had to mark that evening as one of the worst he had the displeasure of experiencing so far.

[pallor_m0rtis]

"He doesn't exactly just scream...master of death, no," Corbin mused because unlike Hector he had no real problem talking about Lacroix even if he was in the near area.
But Corbin held that opinion that being undead automatically made him a step up from the human race; superiority and all of that. He didn't consider Hector human, just having a pulse didn't make a person a human; Hector was insightful and powerful in his own right so he was closer to an equal than he was on a lower rung of that evolutionary ladder.

Ultimately it wasn't his business anyway if Hector was teaching some kid to be a useful part of mage society, but it was borderline funny, still.
He actually did believe that Hector knew what he was doing though, he had a strong respect for the man; so sooner or later that kid probably was going to become a mage.

His hands were still wrapped around the camera when he followed Hector into the other room and tucked it into his lap once he had found a spot to sit down, fingers trailing in an idle manner over the buttons.

"It happens," there was nothing obvious in the statement because even Corbin himself wasn't always aware of why things escalated so often when he picked up that unassuming device. "Usually not like that, but I should have mentioned it before anyway."

Violence wasn't the focus of his efforts, no, death was; his fixation with capturing the moment when light faded in a person. But where was that in zombies? Violence was a substitute, perhaps, to his real goals.

[hector_styles]

“It... happens?” Hector didn’t quite understand what the other man meant. Was Corbin admitting that he didn’t have control over it? That would have been a reasonable explanation, otherwise Corbin wouldn’t have dirtied up his ossuary that much, surely. He’d heard that some vampires were impulsive, ran on instinct; he wasn’t sure if Corbin fell into that category or not. “Is it a compulsion? Some impulse you simply cannot resist?”

Hector was curious to view that tape, but demanding to see it certainly wouldn’t have been polite; if nothing else, Hector esteemed himself on his etiquette, even in odd circumstances like this. Besides, he wouldn’t have wanted to offend Corbin anyway; the vampire had an interest in death that he found alluring. Even if Lacroix had yet to embrace death with a passion, Hector took comfort in the fact that he still did have acquaintances whom he could talk to that did.

[pallor_m0rtis]

"Not sure," with a shrug Corbin popped the cap over the lens of the camera, "I get too focused at times, I think." But as for an explanation even he lacked one himself; his bloodline was one that often suffered being abandoned before given any real information regarding themselves or the world they had been brought into with Embrace. "It's different, watching things through the lens; everything else fades into the background and awareness isn't all that important."

But determination was; he was resolutely determined to catch that moment, to trap the collapse of life in a person. Only in doing that did he stand any chance of showing to others the uncomplicated beauty there was in those fleeting moments.
Appreciating life was something people no longer had any grasp of because they had lost respect for death; the need to change that burned deeply in his veins.

Turning the camera over in his hands a few times, he finally held it out to Hector; the device was not complicated to operate and Corbin only had slight interest in the tape himself because he knew he wouldn't find satisfaction with the images since there was no moment of death to capture with the already dead.

[hector_styles]

“Awareness to some degree was a requirement last night, however,” Hector contradicted, taking that camera but tilting it so that he can Corbin would both be able to see the screen. “Just what precisely did you make those corpses do?” Those zombies would have just stood there immobile had Corbin not verbally commanded them to do something; they had absolutely no free will of their own, just empty shells that used to possess souls.

If Corbin had wanted the tear the life completely out of those zombies, if that had been his goal for the film, it really would have taken that level of violence. Or perhaps even that would not have been enough. If there were any large enough chunks of person still on the floor in the room, they likely still would be twitchy, trying to carry out whatever command Corbin had given last.

If he heard any unmanly screams coming from the ossuary, Hector would have to assume Lacroix stumbled upon something big enough to still move -- a hand, perhaps, fingers still tearing in vain at the remnants of the dead flesh of another zombie. But Hector hoped that would not happen; the last thing he wanted was to completely traumatize his apprentice.

[pallor_m0rtis]

"It's usually not a problem," he replied; and Corbin didn't mean the lack of awareness as much as he meant that the sheer violence was usually so shallow and without purpose. Also very rarely so messy, unless that was the purpose initially and he certainly hadn't been trying to make that sort of film for Hector.

The more he considered it the more Corbin sorted out the reasoning, and casting his eyes to the small screen when he heard his recorded voice snap some short command in a tone so much more icy than his usual disinterested accent to words only solidified his assumptions.

"I don't think zombies are really a lot of use for what I try to do," he mused thoughtfully, "Something already dead can't die."
That was no fault of Hector's and he felt bad in that he hadn't been able to show Hector the extent of what his work usually pertained to; so very seldom did anyone understand his motives enough to want to view those efforts.

His lack of interest in the zombies the evening before was apparent on the screen, his voice broke in now and then in the recording to urge some command; all barked orders with a hint of sadistic amusement in those corpses destroying each other and the mockery of real death they were.

[hector_styles]

“Perhaps we can arrange something more appropriate next time.” Clearly the splattering of organs and blood hadn’t made him want to stop seeing Corbin again in the future. He was quite interested in seeing Corbin’s films, though he had yet to view any besides the one he held in his hands now.

But the longer Hector watched, the more he pondered the tape, though not because of the gore; he’d certainly commanded zombies to do the exact same thing in the past for his own curiosity. No, he wondered instead about how Corbin had presented himself on the tape. “You don’t sound familiar here.” It wasn’t meant to be a rude jab; instead it was just an observation about how Corbin sounded in the film: odd. He’d seen Corbin in person several times now, and knew from past experiences what Corbin’s vocal norm was. And this wasn’t it.

[pallor_m0rtis]

The mention of a next time put his mind at ease; not because he felt the dire need to make a mess of Hector's home again, but he did want a chance to return there on less shaky terms the next time. Because he hadn't honestly meant to make such a horrible mess of the place; Corbin knew it was extremely rare people were allowed in Hector's sanctum.
It had taken a long while before he had been offered that chance and the possibility of being banned from returning had been weighing on his mind.

"Yeah, it is a little strange; I've noticed that." Corbin had to agree, but for all he knew it could have been normal to have so much focus in the moment that he was running more on instinct than his normal thought process. "It's always been like that though, since I've been dead anyway, maybe it's normal."
And if it wasn't, still; what did it matter? Nothing was bound to change his flaws and Corbin wasn't going to turn lose of his rabid desire to find that perfect moment to capture.

[hector_styles]

“Would you object if I desired to watch you film next time?” Hector asked, shifting his gaze up from the screen so that he could look at Corbin instead. Last night he’d wanted to give Corbin space to work, but perhaps if he actually watched him, he’d receive more insight on just how different the vampire became while making films. It was a curious thing, this shift in demeanor in Corbin now versus on the tape; Hector couldn’t explain it, but his desire to observe further was strong. Perhaps if he watched Corbin enough, he would come to understand this vampiric quirk, if that was what it turned out to be.

But he certainly wouldn't force the issue if Corbin said ‘no,’ because he enjoyed the vampire’s company far too much to want to pressure him into anything.

[pallor_m0rtis]

"Doesn't matter to me," Corbin replied, agreeable in part because he felt he did owe Hector something for the vastly skewed efforts of the evening before and the aftermath that night.
He had obviously never been able to watch himself filming, his role was to stay firmly behind the camera at all times unless he was doing other films for private clients. And Corbin didn't make a point of watching those movies even if he did keep copies of them for some reason even he was uncertain of.

Not that he considered that filming, stationary camera work and playing up to the whims of people who offered him money to satisfy their vices was hardly the same purposeful endeavor as he chased with his self-directed films.

[hector_styles]

“I would most certainly enjoy that.” Hector reached out his hands to give Corbin his camera back; he’d been very careful with it thus far because he knew just how important filming was to the vampire. “Do call me next time you would like an audience.” Hell, it wasn’t just about anything new Corbin might want to film. Even if Corbin just wanted to show him the films he’d already finished, Hector would be more than happy to watch. From what he’d heard Corbin say about his films in the past, he was, of course, intrigued.

However, he rememberd that his very disgusted (but hopefully not traumatized) apprentice was still in the other room waiting for him. “Perhaps I should see to Lacroix now. But I will certainly walk you out first.” He had to anyway because the elevator was programmed only to work with Hector’s fingerprint on a scanner. But even if he didn’t have to do that, he’d still want to walk Corbin out anyway as a way to show him that his company had been appreciated, despite the mess of gore.

[pallor_m0rtis]

Part of Hector's words amused him, as he did have an audience for some of those lower class movies, but the films Corbin actually put effort and drive into went entirely unnoticed or left people uncomfortable. He had learned that lesson during his few months of film classes not too long past; disturbing both his instructor and his classmates had felt like a sense of accomplishment at the time but turned empty quickly when he realized that yet again people were quick to be appalled rather than open their eyes to any outlook but the butterflies and fuzzy kittens one the world coveted.

It was disheartening, that. But there was some hope for Hector, the man had a healthy appreciation for what most might consider morbid ideas as it was; and more comforting than that was the fact that Hector held death in high regard much the same as he did.

Corbin snickered at the mention of the kid again, now that one might have been a lost cause. "Good luck with that one." He knew better than to jump to conclusions; Hector was smart and he wouldn't have brought someone into what amounted to a carefully guarded way of life from what he had seen himself in the very little he was permitted to know about Hector's true nature. Corbin just hoped that the kid wasn't too brainwashed by the normal world already, it took a certain sort of person to find the appeal in darkness.

Still, it would lead where it did; that was Hector's choice and not his.

Standing finally so that he could follow Hector to the elevator, he decided it was time to head out; there were only so many hours in the evening and he loathed being out and far from his own haven too late. That paranoia of the sun was still strong with him, Corbin hadn't learned to take it stride better yet; he was a young vampire and being too far from home left him uneasy.
Best to be on his way before that feeling managed to breed thicker.

I think this needs to be canon :p Your thoughts?

[hector_styles]

Hector wished Corbin a good night on the way out; there was practically no one that Hector would willingly admit into his sanctum a second time, but he valued Corbin’s company enough to want that again in the future. But he turned his attention back to Lacroix as soon as Corbin was gone, because he didn’t want to leave the young man alone amidst the gore all night.

On the way back to his ossuary, Hector grabbed a broom and dustpan from his laundry room; he planned on using magic to make the task of cleaning easier, because otherwise it would take a very long time to make the room pristine again. It wouldn’t totally be a superficial waste of power; it would give Lacroix a real demonstration of just what magic could accomplish when one was as experienced as Hector was. Besides, he figured his apprentice would have an easier time sweeping up gore that he’d turned into sand instead of continuing to mop the sloppy mess of guts up.

"I do appreciate your assistance, Lacroix,” he granted as he entered the room; Lacroix certainly deserved a ‘thanks’ for starting this gruesome cleaning process. He leaned the broom and dustpan against the door before crouching down beside the nearest pile of bone of muscle. “But we’re going to clean a different way now.” He picked up what had been part of an arm, and concentrated hard, pouring his full focus into the task -- and a few seconds later, the piece of the corpse in his hands slowly begin to dry and disintegrate, falling to the floor as a pile of sand instead.

Hector was going to have to sequester himself for a few days after this, gather mana up again, because this was really going to drain him.

[Ha! Lacroix is not pleased! But will live. You know I'm flexible about these things. XP ]

[lacroix_styles]

While Hector had been off entertaining the dead guy Lacroix had been playing the part of good lackey and scrubbing the floor with the mop; with a reasonable amount of complaining to nobody in particular during the task.
Most of those complaints involved the words 'stupid' in excess and with Hector's name thrown in during the more colorful moments; but it helped to pass the time and keep his mind off the fact that he was standing in blood and other unmentionable bits of human body that he had no desire to even make a guess at the origin of.

It wouldn't have been half as bad if everything hadn't been making the most godawful disgusting squishing noises when he stabbed at the various puddles with the mop. His tolerance for gore was around the video game range; the real stuff left Lacroix feeling like he was stuck in some surreal version of the world where bad things were the norm.

Oh wait...he was.

But thanks to the fact that his brain just had to go haywire and see things that no person was meant to there he was, spending his evening sloshing around a wide-scale crime scene in the comfort of his newly deemed home.
It was funny to a very small degree, and being able to see some sort of twisted humor in it only led him to question if his own mental state wasn't beginning to crack in that madhouse.

When Hector showed back up he shut up with the complaints and frowned, watching him pluck that bit of once-person from one of the piles; there was that feeling again...the 'nothing good will come from this' feeling.

Lacroix was almost expecting something vile, so when Hector's little trick caused the bloody bit of remains to turn to sand he just stood there for a moment. He still wasn't even barely used to seeing physical magic, had only begun to accept the idea really; so it was fascinating.
It was also extremely irritating.

"You couldn't have done that before? Really?" Deadpan, Lacroix just twitched and gripped the handle of mop more tightly to rein in some of that annoyance.
Too bad it took so much of his focus to do so, otherwise he might have moved when the ceiling dripped and avoided getting splattered in the head with whatever mix of sludge was clinging to the plaster above.

Oh come now...honestly; how was that fair?

Back to grumbling, he lifted a hand and succeeded in smearing the stuff worse, groaning and dropping his hand when it became sticky. And then he wished that he hadn't, because his palm was looking at him.

There was practically nothing Lacroix wanted less than a smashed eyeball stuck to his hand, he felt that wave of nausea flicker over his stomach and he recoiled with a flail of his arm to get rid of the repulsive bit of necrotic tissue. "Okay, that's about as much flat out nasty as I can deal with in one night!" Still gagging the entire time he made a hasty retreat to the side of the room where the ceiling was less decorated with the events of the prior evening.

Once everything was cleaned up he was going to spend a few days in the shower, oh yes.