Thirty-Fifth Drop: no food for the sick (video)

[spiritofsorrow]

[Sorrow is stumbling around the Lighthouse's  keeper's house and rifling through all the cabinets. A loaf of bread in a wrapper falls to the side; there's a pack of dried fruit. He looks terrible, eyes sunken, shoulders hunched.]

I feel terrible today...isn't there anything not covered in grease? I can't eat anything here in my house. Pochemu

Comments

[makes_you_tick]

Sorrow- what happened to you?

[spiritofsorrow]

Gabriel. ...I don't want to trouble you. It is...presumably something I have to...

Hm.

[makes_you_tick]

I'm already troubled, you know. You're not well. What happened?

[spiritofsorrow]

...A vampire. More than a human life's worth of destruction and murder...it is difficult to watch, and...yes.

I can't think about what this may mean...

[makes_you_tick]

I can imagine.

Well, I'm afraid I can't help with the food today, but I am making milkshakes. Those don't appear to be frying themselves. Can I bring you anything?

[spiritofsorrow]

Anything that isn't covered in grease is better than what I have.

Thank you, Gabriel.

[makes_you_tick]

It does get tiresome quickly. I'll be there in a few minutes.

[ooc: Want to play that out or assume? I'm fine with either. :3]

[spiritofsorrow]

[ooc:whichever you want!]

action

[makes_you_tick]

[It wasn't long before Sylar arrived at the lighthouse with a large chocolate milkshake in hand. He hoped Sorrow would manage to eat it, because he had a sneaking suspicion that greasy fried food was not the worst of Sorrow's problems. He knocked on the door and looked around.]

Hello?

Re: action

[spiritofsorrow]

[By this point, Sorrow was sitting in a chair with a bottle of vodka and a cotton ball. It wasn't exactly high medical technology, but ethanol sterilized wounds just as well as any other alcohol, and this was how he had done it on the battlefield. He daubed at the bite marks, feeling them burn in retaliation.

At the sound of Sylar's voice, he raised his head and brought his hands up on instinct, never mind that they were both full of impromptu medicine. His eyes and his tone were horribly mismatched, one worried, the other calm.]

Ah, Gabriel. You didn't have to come all this way, but I am grateful that you have the time.

[makes_you_tick]

[Sylar opened the door as soon as he heard movement inside, giving Sorrow a hint of a smile and nodding as he set the milkshake in front of the man. It even has a straw.]

It's no problem. I'm not busy enough that I can't take some time off from the shop. People don't tend to come by during a curse, anyway.

...how are you feeling? [the question is slightly cautious, because it's obvious he's not doing well]

[spiritofsorrow]

[He managed no more than his usual rueful smile, and took the milkshake.

Cloying and sweet, but still very tasty.]

...I will be well, whatever happens. I have come far, and done much, and will not let this stop me.

Still, I admit that I fear the consequences...

[makes_you_tick]

[He seems to relax a little as Sorrow drinks the milkshake.]

The consequences? Like becoming a vampire yourself? [he tries for a smirk, but it somewhat dies] It'd help if you knew who attacked you, perhaps we could work out whether anything else is going to happen.

You're right, though. You'll continue on, regardless.

[spiritofsorrow]

If I do turn, I would rather die than murder innocents for food.

[He sighs and continues sipping the milkshake. It isn't terrifically satisfying, but that's just because he's sick, so he drinks slowly. The sense of something being in him is better than the empty feeling from before.]

[makes_you_tick]

[Sylar watches him carefully for a few moments, then nods.]

There are other sources. The Raven- and I regenerate. I'm willing to donate, if necessary.

But hopefully it won't be. Not all vampires turn when they feed. Even if you do, I know there's a cure for some cases.

...what do you remember, about what happened?

[spiritofsorrow]

[Had his face any trace of color, he would have flushed; now, he just brought a hand to cover his eyes and sighed. It was embarrassing, for someone of his training.]

I considered myself safe, taking a walk through Xanadu at night, when the sun won't torture my skin. I was turning to leave, took a shortcut through some of the trees...and something on two legs waylaid me. I tried to fight back, but the first thing it did was flip away my glasses. Too quick...I don't understand how a biped can move so fast. But it dodged about, disarmed me, got behind me, restrained me, and bit at my neck.

The next thing I remember, I was lying on the ground -- I passed out for a short while, until Penny came by and I came to enough to know what was going on. By then, whoever it was, it was long gone.

[He resumed daubing the vodka on the cuts, a wince never crossing his face. After the cuts looked a little tamer, he put the bottle away and tossed the cotton.]