ALEX; one step forward
Who: Alex (& Sonya)
When: Late night, Monday
Where: The Grounds
Rating & Warnings: PG??
It was the fear of losing restraint and ruining his last night with his friends that spurred him to action.
While the well-off were cozy in their homes and the lesser packing into any establishment that offered shelter from the cold, Alex left the Evandros estate on wings, wishing that bats had insulation like their feathered un-cousins. It was bitterly cold even for him, though how much could be credited to his bias against the winter months remained to be seen.
Once he was within the airspace of the Grounds, he floated down behind a stack of wooden barrels and shifted back. Immediately, the hiss of several cats filled the quiet alleyway as they struggled with bolting from their predator against keeping their pitiful protection from the wind. He caught the eyes of one. Its tense form loosened as he willed it to calm, until it was curling up and returning to its sleep.
He wondered, as he began his search, if it was cruel to leave them be. They were skinny little things, death on legs and angry for it. Would it be more merciful to give them a painless death? It was in his power.
His eyes scanned over the sides of the buildings. Piles of garbage, mostly, but bodies - there were those, too, frozen and beyond saving. Alex looked down at the white ground, hard and slippery, not at all pleasant and soft like fresh snow, grimacing. He was here-
He was here, hopefully, to prevent that for someone else.
It was an honorable thing to think.
It was an extra, a benefit of his main goal.
He hated how backwards it was. He hated that his nature, his very person, was being manipulated by what others thought. He hated that he was giving in out of fear of losing himself to that nature - that thirst - as he did with Ravindra.
No matter what he'd do, Belief would win. He was a creature of it now.
-
He found her at a corner outside of a tavern, offering herself in return for a warm bed, and perhaps some soup, to what few men that entered the place. She wasn't as thin as those cats, but she had no fur to make up for it. Her eyes lit up when he approached her.
“Spare a coin or two, love?” she asked. Despite her smile, it was obvious the effort was strained. “I'll keep y'real warm tonight, us two, we can keep each other real warm.”
He forced a smile back. Weak as it may have been, she took it as the affirmative that it was and almost leapt at his arm, curling hers around it and dragging him inside. She wasted no time taking a seat next to the stairs, and blessed they were that there was a table available at all.
“Bit'a ale'll warm y'right up,” she said, and this time the pleasantness in her demeanor was more genuine. Relief, too.
Alex felt his heart twist and his throat burn. He merely forced another smile.
In the orange glow of the lanterns hung above, he could see that her hair wasn't black like he thought it was outside, but dark brown, and that her eyes were hazel rather than grey. She wasn't a beautiful woman, but she was pretty enough that had she been born into more forgiving circumstances she'd need not worry about attracting a husband on her looks.
Was he really doing this?
A pair of knotted hands dropped two tankards of ale onto the wooden table. The woman wasted no time in downing some of the liquid, which she expelled in a sigh of happiness after swallowing. “How's about some stew, love? Looks like y'could use some'a it.” She was smiling at him, but it was too hopeful. She meant that she could use some of it.
“Sure,” he said, speaking for the first time since arriving, “A bowl's fine. For you.”
Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit at him, then she looked back up to the waitress with a grin. When she left, the woman returned her attention to Alex, studying him. After a short silence, she asked, “You not a talker?”
He half-shrugged, then took a drink.
She leaned back, eyed him one last time, then shrugged in return. He finished his ale and she finished her ale and stew in silence, though she made a dramatic gesture of setting her empty tankard down. Without prompt, Alex placed two coins onto the table, then a third. That was the one she was waiting for.
Hooking herself around his arms like before, the two of them made their way upstairs and into a vacant room. It was filthy and without light, but Alex found the candle with no trouble and set it down next to the bed once it was lit.
She let out a loud, contented sigh, and fell backwards onto the mattress. He took a seat next to her at the edge of the bed and looked at her. Eyes closed, face flushed - it shouldn't have required a stranger's coin to provide that for her. It shouldn't have required his thirst to provide that for her.
She'd opened her eyes, returning his stare. He could see it - the subtle shift in muscles as wariness began to creep into her.
“I apologize. There's no easy way to explain this,” he began, regret lacing his tone. “What I want from you isn't sex, but-” He sucked in a deep breath, then slowly expelled it. “Your blood.”
Her mouth parted in surprise and her muscles went stiff, and suddenly she was pushing herself opposite him on the bed. “Y-You-You're the one eating people,” she hissed, limbs curled tightly to her chest, her eyes wide with fear.
“No,” he said quickly, his calm tone betraying the internal turmoil going through his mind. What was he doing here? What was he doing? Was he really trying to do this? Was he insane? Who in their right mind would ever-
“I'm not a maneater, I'm a vampire,” he continued, keeping his position, watching her like one would watch a wild animal. The last thing he needed now was to alarm her further. “All I need is blood. No one has to die for that.”
This didn't seem to soothe her fears any, but she wasn't trying to run away (perhaps she was too afraid to move - he didn't dwell on it for long) which meant he still had a chance at explaining this to her.
It was difficult for one such as Alex to keep his hands still whilst talking, but he forced himself to. “What I'm proposing to you is this: I pay for your drink, your dinner, your bed, for the night, and in return, you give me some of your blood.” He leaned back slowly. “I've already done all three.”
“You'll kill me,” she replied, voice not much higher than a whisper. “Who's to say y'won't kill me?”
“You'll die out there,” he said, and he saw in her change in expression that she knew this, too. “With me, at least you'll have a bed to sleep in tonight.”
In the Grounds, it was all about surviving to see the next day. After what seemed like an eternity, the woman relaxed a fraction. It was a conscious decision. He could hear her heart beat racing, even as she parted her lips to ask, “Will it... Will it hurt?”
He hated that she was considering this for a place to sleep. He hated that he was exploiting her need for shelter and food for his inhumane thirst. There was no better solution, though. If he didn't address it soon, he was going to lose sight of his boundaries as he already had once before.
He was not going to let that happen again.
Alex closed his eyes. “If you allow, I can put you into a trance. You won't feel the bite, just an ache from it after.” She watched him with cautious eyes as he fished out a small glass vial from his coat pocket. It was an ointment for small wounds. “If you apply this, it'll heal fine,” he said, holding it out to her.
She snatched it like a dog snatching meat from the hands of a stranger, studied it for a minute, then placed it next to the candle. Then she stuck her hand out, palm up.
“Another coin,” she said, almost defiantly.
Taken aback by her sudden bravado, Alex paused, then silently plucked out another coin and placed it softly into her hand, watching her. To her credit, she didn't flinch. She peered at it next to the candle and when it passed inspection she hid it away in her skirts.
“Right then, do it,” she said, pulling herself up straight and squeezing her eyes shut. “And do the thing that makes it not hurt.”
Another pause. He was still surprised by her behavior. Something must have clicked in her, then, the need to survive, the risks to take in order to ensure survival. It was heart-breaking.
“You'll need your eyes open for that,” he said finally, a bit of lightness entering his tone. She opened her eyes to shoot him a dirty glare, to which he responded with a small, apologetic smile.
Her racing heart eased into a normal pace when he locked eyes with her. Her shoulders began to sag. Alex scooted closer to catch her in his arms before she spilled over on herself.
A young woman, no older than he (if his years in death were discounted). He held her for a short moment, ignoring the smell of liquor and unkemptness that lingered on her skin. He murmured an apology, then shifted to support her head on one shoulder. The position left her neck exposed and easily accessible.
Rayna could never know the taste of human blood.
When: Late night, Monday
Where: The Grounds
Rating & Warnings: PG??
It was the fear of losing restraint and ruining his last night with his friends that spurred him to action.
While the well-off were cozy in their homes and the lesser packing into any establishment that offered shelter from the cold, Alex left the Evandros estate on wings, wishing that bats had insulation like their feathered un-cousins. It was bitterly cold even for him, though how much could be credited to his bias against the winter months remained to be seen.
Once he was within the airspace of the Grounds, he floated down behind a stack of wooden barrels and shifted back. Immediately, the hiss of several cats filled the quiet alleyway as they struggled with bolting from their predator against keeping their pitiful protection from the wind. He caught the eyes of one. Its tense form loosened as he willed it to calm, until it was curling up and returning to its sleep.
He wondered, as he began his search, if it was cruel to leave them be. They were skinny little things, death on legs and angry for it. Would it be more merciful to give them a painless death? It was in his power.
His eyes scanned over the sides of the buildings. Piles of garbage, mostly, but bodies - there were those, too, frozen and beyond saving. Alex looked down at the white ground, hard and slippery, not at all pleasant and soft like fresh snow, grimacing. He was here-
He was here, hopefully, to prevent that for someone else.
It was an honorable thing to think.
It was an extra, a benefit of his main goal.
He hated how backwards it was. He hated that his nature, his very person, was being manipulated by what others thought. He hated that he was giving in out of fear of losing himself to that nature - that thirst - as he did with Ravindra.
No matter what he'd do, Belief would win. He was a creature of it now.
-
He found her at a corner outside of a tavern, offering herself in return for a warm bed, and perhaps some soup, to what few men that entered the place. She wasn't as thin as those cats, but she had no fur to make up for it. Her eyes lit up when he approached her.
“Spare a coin or two, love?” she asked. Despite her smile, it was obvious the effort was strained. “I'll keep y'real warm tonight, us two, we can keep each other real warm.”
He forced a smile back. Weak as it may have been, she took it as the affirmative that it was and almost leapt at his arm, curling hers around it and dragging him inside. She wasted no time taking a seat next to the stairs, and blessed they were that there was a table available at all.
“Bit'a ale'll warm y'right up,” she said, and this time the pleasantness in her demeanor was more genuine. Relief, too.
Alex felt his heart twist and his throat burn. He merely forced another smile.
In the orange glow of the lanterns hung above, he could see that her hair wasn't black like he thought it was outside, but dark brown, and that her eyes were hazel rather than grey. She wasn't a beautiful woman, but she was pretty enough that had she been born into more forgiving circumstances she'd need not worry about attracting a husband on her looks.
Was he really doing this?
A pair of knotted hands dropped two tankards of ale onto the wooden table. The woman wasted no time in downing some of the liquid, which she expelled in a sigh of happiness after swallowing. “How's about some stew, love? Looks like y'could use some'a it.” She was smiling at him, but it was too hopeful. She meant that she could use some of it.
“Sure,” he said, speaking for the first time since arriving, “A bowl's fine. For you.”
Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit at him, then she looked back up to the waitress with a grin. When she left, the woman returned her attention to Alex, studying him. After a short silence, she asked, “You not a talker?”
He half-shrugged, then took a drink.
She leaned back, eyed him one last time, then shrugged in return. He finished his ale and she finished her ale and stew in silence, though she made a dramatic gesture of setting her empty tankard down. Without prompt, Alex placed two coins onto the table, then a third. That was the one she was waiting for.
Hooking herself around his arms like before, the two of them made their way upstairs and into a vacant room. It was filthy and without light, but Alex found the candle with no trouble and set it down next to the bed once it was lit.
She let out a loud, contented sigh, and fell backwards onto the mattress. He took a seat next to her at the edge of the bed and looked at her. Eyes closed, face flushed - it shouldn't have required a stranger's coin to provide that for her. It shouldn't have required his thirst to provide that for her.
She'd opened her eyes, returning his stare. He could see it - the subtle shift in muscles as wariness began to creep into her.
“I apologize. There's no easy way to explain this,” he began, regret lacing his tone. “What I want from you isn't sex, but-” He sucked in a deep breath, then slowly expelled it. “Your blood.”
Her mouth parted in surprise and her muscles went stiff, and suddenly she was pushing herself opposite him on the bed. “Y-You-You're the one eating people,” she hissed, limbs curled tightly to her chest, her eyes wide with fear.
“No,” he said quickly, his calm tone betraying the internal turmoil going through his mind. What was he doing here? What was he doing? Was he really trying to do this? Was he insane? Who in their right mind would ever-
“I'm not a maneater, I'm a vampire,” he continued, keeping his position, watching her like one would watch a wild animal. The last thing he needed now was to alarm her further. “All I need is blood. No one has to die for that.”
This didn't seem to soothe her fears any, but she wasn't trying to run away (perhaps she was too afraid to move - he didn't dwell on it for long) which meant he still had a chance at explaining this to her.
It was difficult for one such as Alex to keep his hands still whilst talking, but he forced himself to. “What I'm proposing to you is this: I pay for your drink, your dinner, your bed, for the night, and in return, you give me some of your blood.” He leaned back slowly. “I've already done all three.”
“You'll kill me,” she replied, voice not much higher than a whisper. “Who's to say y'won't kill me?”
“You'll die out there,” he said, and he saw in her change in expression that she knew this, too. “With me, at least you'll have a bed to sleep in tonight.”
In the Grounds, it was all about surviving to see the next day. After what seemed like an eternity, the woman relaxed a fraction. It was a conscious decision. He could hear her heart beat racing, even as she parted her lips to ask, “Will it... Will it hurt?”
He hated that she was considering this for a place to sleep. He hated that he was exploiting her need for shelter and food for his inhumane thirst. There was no better solution, though. If he didn't address it soon, he was going to lose sight of his boundaries as he already had once before.
He was not going to let that happen again.
Alex closed his eyes. “If you allow, I can put you into a trance. You won't feel the bite, just an ache from it after.” She watched him with cautious eyes as he fished out a small glass vial from his coat pocket. It was an ointment for small wounds. “If you apply this, it'll heal fine,” he said, holding it out to her.
She snatched it like a dog snatching meat from the hands of a stranger, studied it for a minute, then placed it next to the candle. Then she stuck her hand out, palm up.
“Another coin,” she said, almost defiantly.
Taken aback by her sudden bravado, Alex paused, then silently plucked out another coin and placed it softly into her hand, watching her. To her credit, she didn't flinch. She peered at it next to the candle and when it passed inspection she hid it away in her skirts.
“Right then, do it,” she said, pulling herself up straight and squeezing her eyes shut. “And do the thing that makes it not hurt.”
Another pause. He was still surprised by her behavior. Something must have clicked in her, then, the need to survive, the risks to take in order to ensure survival. It was heart-breaking.
“You'll need your eyes open for that,” he said finally, a bit of lightness entering his tone. She opened her eyes to shoot him a dirty glare, to which he responded with a small, apologetic smile.
Her racing heart eased into a normal pace when he locked eyes with her. Her shoulders began to sag. Alex scooted closer to catch her in his arms before she spilled over on herself.
A young woman, no older than he (if his years in death were discounted). He held her for a short moment, ignoring the smell of liquor and unkemptness that lingered on her skin. He murmured an apology, then shifted to support her head on one shoulder. The position left her neck exposed and easily accessible.
Rayna could never know the taste of human blood.