03: Fate forbids what you pursue [visual | location: Mick's apartment]

[ownlittleprison]

For Mick, the past week had passed in a blur of activity. Early morning saw him barricading the windows to keep out as much sunlight as possible, and his Extra neighbors had complained greatly to the Extra who kept tabs on everyone in the building. He'd been issued a warning, and informed that two more strikes meant he had to leave

Comments

[ visual ]

[longaevus]

Helen could see, even understand the conflict. Although people had been hurt it was that understanding (and her whole 'thing') that made her reach out. Vampire. She'd known that from the description of the attack, from examining the body and with his explanation - and suggestions for death - it wasn't hard to pinpoint it to him.

But she wouldn't allow it, not before hoping to help him. And any attempts at stopping her would be damned. He'd hurt people and she wasn't forgetting that, but her obligation to help was stronger. Nothing that came from her actions or his future ones would make up for the damage but it didn't mean that there wasn't a problem to help with - the need for blood was akin to that of any other drug.

"There may be another way." Helen hoped that he remembered her from when she'd welcomed him, that he wouldn't take her offer of aide in the wrong way.

"I need for you to calm yourself, however."

[ visual ]

[ownlittleprison]

It's difficult to think through the pain, more difficult yet to process the voice when the fever plays its tricks on him. The longer he's in Taxon, the less he's sure what's real and what isn't. It's like the desert all over again, only this time he's shut himself into his freezer chest instead of a bathtub filled with ice and water.

He swallows thickly, not entirely understanding what it is the woman's actually saying. "I am calm. This is me being very calm."

He may be not entirely happy, but every last ounce of energy left in him is going towards staying still and not jumping out the window in search for warm, fresh blood so dark red it's almost brown...

He blinks hard, hiding his face from the wretched tablet.

[ visual ]

[longaevus]

"Then I need you to listen and carefully." There seemed to be a struggle and a clear one at that within him, something that Helen recognised rather well. Nikola, even John had opened her up to such - even many of her patients had alerted her to the signs of it. This was no different.

"I have a method of helping you, one that wouldn't involve your death. It won't help with your guilt or pain but it will help with your control."

She had to at least hope that she was getting through.

[ visual ]

[ownlittleprison]

They say hope springs eternal. When she said those words, hope burst out of my chest like one of H.R Giger's aliens.

For just a moment, I couldn't even breathe. She was a doctor, from some kind of alternate reality, and just like that she offered me salvation. But at what price?

Honestly? I didn't really care.

After a long moment of silence and near absolute stillness; Mick staring uncomprehending at the woman on the tiny screen; finally, two words. "A method?"

[visual]

[goodluck_kobra]

Not that he had had a good start with this guy, but Kobra recognised someone going through withdrawal when he saw them and he couldn't help but feel for the guy. He had been there. Well, as the man continued it became clear that Kobra hadn't been at that point but when it came down to it withdrawal was withdrawal, right?

"You're being awfully dramatic," he drawled, taking of his sunglasses and squinting at the screen.

"How 'bout you calm yourself down, tumbleweed? Nothing too bad's happened so far, it's shiny." People had gotten hurt, yes, but it wasn't like there was a pile of dead bodies in the street.

"Apart from this killing you thing, what's gonna help?"

[visual]

[ownlittleprison]

Nothing too bad?

Nothing too bad. We've got ourselves a joker here, kids.

It's bad enough.

Mick shrugs, or maybe twitches is a better word for it, trying to look past the knee jerk response of being an utter bastard - shove people away, keep them at a distance, it's how this works. Humans and vampires don't mix, their communities overlapping only where strictly necessary. He works alone, lives alone, eats and sleeps and dies alone.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, people (humans) are offering to help? Even worse, better, more of whatever this is, it's people he barely even knows.

"Are you sure you want to ask me that?"

Re: [visual]

[goodluck_kobra]

"Yep," Kobra replied without batting an eyelash. "Wouldn't have asked otherwise."

He leaned back and fidgeted a little, craving a cigarette but thinking it might not be the best idea to smoke right now.

[visual]

[ownlittleprison]

There's only one thing he hasn't tried yet, and that's not something he wants to even consider when in this state. He's weakened to the point of snapping, and just thinking about the real deal, about fresh, warm blood right from the vein makes his lip curl.

"Hhh, haven't tried human blood yet. Hatched blood doesn't work, and the Extras..." He drifts off, eyes glazing over slightly, eyelids closing halfway.

"'m so tired."

[Visual]

[a_pretty_fire]

It had been a long time since Drusilla had seen anyone as broken as the man on the screen, shrouded in misery that was even colder than the crystals of ice that pearled on his skin. She wanted to reach out and touch him, drawing the pain to her until she'd savoured every last drop.

"No, you're not," she said, with eyes that were as dark and dangerous as the night shining in an unnaturally innocent face. "You should be sorry for pretending to be someone else. You should be sorry for not filling up your tummy when you had the chance."

The city was full of people who fancied themselves to be saints. (As if they would ever be that good, as good as Drusilla could have been in another life!) What he really needed was a little devil on his shoulder.

[Visual]

[ownlittleprison]

"Wh--!" The huff of air is indignant at best, pitiful in every respect. His big, old eyes widening to the point of starting to water up from the cold. It's a wonder he hasn't frozen completely solid.

"When I had the chance?! Lady, I've hatched blood every night. H-hatched. I don't h-hunt people. I'm not a monster."

But his tone of voice, treacherous that it is, tells a different story. He believes he's a monster, nothing will change his mind, and the only thing keeping him on the right side of sane is choosing to be better. Better than what he was made, some fifty odd years ago.

[Visual]

[a_pretty_fire]

"The blood from the hatch isn't the same," Drusilla purred, her voice low and sibilant and as soft as velvet, "It's warm, but it doesn't pulse into your throat with every beat of their poor little hearts. You can't feel like their life dwindling away in your hands."

He was a monster. Drusilla would read it in the icy patterns on his cheeks and the tumultuous emotions hidden in his eyes. Someone had to free him, but Drusilla was the only one with the nerve to do it.

[Visual]

[ownlittleprison]

No, thinks Mick slowly, filling steadily with horror of a different kind. It isn't the same at all. It's fake, and while it tastes just right, and he tells himself he doesn't really care about blood temperature, that blood is blood and it's only sustenance. It's a drug he can't quit, like air and water and food and alcohol and coffee to humans. Sustenance. Socially habitual. Absolutely completely vital for his survival.

"Stop it," he hisses, asking for mercy despite the sinking feeling there will be none forthcoming. "Please don't talk like that. P-- please."

[location: Mick's place]

[justaddmarbles]

Glitch stared at the visual feed and read between the lines. Vampire, and unlike the other ones he'd known about in the city...the aliens weren't providing for him. Then he checked the the map and grimaced at Mick's proximity to the palace. Too close, far too close to his home and his family and...

The visual. That face, even with all the distress and horror there was something there which yanked at him.

So. He had to protect. He had to help. He had to break the leg off the chair he was sitting on - Buffy'd been keen on stakes, and Mick had mentioned them as well - and set off for Mick's apartment. Knocking on the door seemed rather ridiculous but manners, manners, manners.

"Mick? It's Glitch. I have a stake." Pause. "I hope ash works."

...yes, because the type of wood is important.

[location: Mick's place] A little while later, for ease of...storytelling purposes?

[ownlittleprison]

Mick laid in his bedroom, drifting in and out of consciousness, plagued by the kind of fevered dreams that came to him after an unfortunate and involuntary trek through the desert when the sun was high up in the sky and there was no escape. No shelter for miles, and a young pregnant girl to protect. Those had been dire times, and these were marginally better.

He could tell himself he hadn't hurt one of the other captives until he lost his voice, but it didn't change the nightmares. It wasn't Extras in his dreams, but people. Innocent people, whose fear was palpable in the air and coating the inside of his nose like a thick film.

And all through it, an insistent thudding that didn't go away. Like the strike of a hammer, louder and louder in his ears until he startled awake.

A heartbeat. Right there, outside his door. "Beth--" Hope, feeble and weak though it may be, shattered in the space of one lurching heartbeat. Not Beth. Not his home, not L.A, not Josef

[location: Mick's place]

[justaddmarbles]

Glitch flinched a bit - the words and the delivery were familiar in some forgotten way - and paused in sort-of picking the lock. His toolkit was handy like that.

"You're the one who wanted someone to come 'round and kill you," he remarked. "Or whatever that announcement was supposed to inspire. I-I'd really rather not."

There had to be some other way, something that didn't involve anyone dying or being maimed. Glitch didn't especially have a plan, but he had conviction and determination and there was a better way, he was sure of it.

"I don't want to lose anyone else. Please, I just...maybe I can help you."

[location: Mick's place]

[ownlittleprison]

"What part of killing a monster don't you get? You're not supposed to come here alone!"

Come to think of it, now that he stood on the right side of the door, coiled tight as a spring and ready to snap, Mick wasn't sure that he wanted to inspire anyone to anything. Certainly not marching right up to the mythical dragon's lair and dangle a...fair maiden was a stretch, but then he wasn't entirely thinking straight. He could smell the other man, could pick out all the subdermal veins in his mind's eye from memory alone, and it was messing with his priorities.

He had to keep him out - but if the guy with the zipper for a center part was naive enough to come here all alone, he had it coming. He had to drive him off - but he was right there for the takingThe worst part of starving wasn't that the hunger pangs burned like fire through his entire body. The worst part was he knew it wouldn't be long at all before he couldn't take it anymore

[ voice ]

[importanttoher]

"You hurt those people?" The shock was clear in her voice - she'd been certain that it was Katherine that had done it. She wasn't even going to doubt that now he'd exposed himself that Katherine would do something under the cover of his exposure.

Okay, that could be a little far since Katherine liked to take the credit for things herself but she had been really quite quiet lately.

[ visual ]

[ownlittleprison]

Talking wasn't any easier for not having a pair of eyes looking at him, full of fear and accusation. It was clear enough in her voice that he didn't need to see her.

"Yes," he breathed out, then cleared his throat for another go at it. "Y-yeah. I did."

[ voice ]

[importanttoher]

"I didn't know there were other vampires here." Surprisingly enough she wasn't horrified. His killing sounded remorseful, more like Stefan had been when he'd not been in control - a lot different to Damon or Katherine. She wasn't afraid, not completely - not when he seemed like he'd rather die than hurt anyone.

[ voice ]

[ownlittleprison]

"I don't know," he admitted quietly, misunderstanding or hearing wrong, one of the two. Leaning his forehead to the bottom of the freezer with a sigh. He'd thrown out the bedding, settled for just a blanket to keep him from getting stuck to the so cold surfaces. Even the blanket left him feeling too warm - but in a matter of minutes he'd be back to rattling his teeth from freezing.

"I don't think there's anyone else."