bitethehandthatfeeds | psl: immortals vs vampires

[ though Yael doesn't know it, his efforts to lose Chris are almost entirely useless. he'd stayed under Chris's roof and eaten his food, after all, and even if the resulting mark doesn't have the proprietary note that would come from being bitten the scent lingers all the same. even when Chris loses Yael's trail, he can still follow his own, and he catches up immediately.

(it also helps that his bat form is one shaped for being tiny and inconspicuous enough to get close to large animals while they sleep without waking them up. it's more than a little nervewracking, but not actually difficult at all to snuggle up with one of Yael's shoes or the very edge of his sleeve while he's asleep long enough to leave fresher and more purposeful scentmarks.)

but doing all that also means doing nothing but watching. Yael isn't doing well, of course, considering his utter disregard for his body's needs— but he's navigating being alone with no trouble. he doesn't need Chris to bundle him up and take him back to what was more or less a glorified prison; he doesn't need Chris at all.

...at least, not until he draws other vampiric attention. the downside to wearing Chris's scent and the downside to trying to get so far away is that they're no longer in Christophe's territory at all— and Yael looks and smells like quite the treat. ]

[If nothing else, watching Yael on his own proves that he has self-neglect down to a science. He doesn't get sick, but he's often just on the edge of starvation or passing out.

for all his apparent decency at handling himself on his own, there is exactly one limit to his ability to do so: he's still tasty vampire bait, and now with that extra flag of Chris ownership what little chance he had of escaping notice is effectively gone.

it's only a few weeks later that it happens. he's only just left the library, and he really needs to sleep again, keeps stumbling over near nothing in the dark as he takes now-familiar alleys at an exhausted trudge. but one stumble ends with him in a stranger's arms, rather than righting himself with balance, and when a soothing voice tells him to sleep his traitorous body and mind give instantly.]

[ ...

the ensuing fight is knock-down drag-out vicious, and loud enough that Yael might wake even with the weight of the compulsion and his sleeping problems. whether he does or doesn't, however, the fight ends when Chris slashes the other vampire's throat open, grabs Yael bodily, and runs. ]

[the awful racket comes as close to waking him as possible, which is basically sleep paralysis, making everything way worse as he struggles to move, to wake himself up, to remember who he is- anything at all before he slips out of consciousness again, completely helpless and painfully light and small in Chris's arms.]

[ sorry, Yael. he recognizes that terror even with the paralysis, but has no time to stop to check on him as he's bleeding quite a bit himself and also. running from what is basically the scene of what will probably be a major diplomatic incident later.

they're too far away to get home, and far too suspicious to get a hotel room the usual way— so he ends up having to use another trickle of his already-low energy to coerce a room out of a motel attendant. it's not great, but it gives him a place to put Yael until he wakes up on his own as well as patch up his own scrapes. they're not as bad as if they'd been inflicted by wood or bone... but vampire teeth and claws still technically counted as something that had been formerly living. ]

[when he wakes, it's to the smell of blood.

Chris is probably on some level accustomed to how fucked up Yael can be when he wakes up, but it's actually... better than normal, this time? that's a lie, it's worse. it's only quieter. instead of the shouting and occasional screams of his worse wakeups, this time he's terrified and barely moving, just curling up into a shaking ball of existential fear, the ghost of a memory of the sounds of the fight bouncing around in his mind, transmuting into all sorts of other horrible noises.]

[ it would be easier to mistake it as "better" if fear didn't have a distinct smell— one which he's currently hungry enough to be completely incapable of missing, even fighting off sleep as he is. he makes an incoherently groggy noise from where he's sitting on the floor next to the bed opposite the window, and sits up to get a look at— ]

—Yael?

[ wait fuck he's not supposed to interfere when this happens. but with the circumstances—? God fucking damnit. ]

Edited 2016-09-17 08:53 (UTC)

[the name penetrates, but it doesn't mean anything. it's just a sound. it's just as real as the rest of it, as far as he cares, but it spooks him straight out of the solid feeling of existential terror. as shitty an anchor as it is, he was clinging to it, and now he's lost completely to the wash of his own memories, half formed sentences spilling from his lips in many many dead languages, tonally changing with each snippet. some moments he's calm, others he's incredulous, amused, afraid, fond, livid, distraught, all spiraling and ramping up in tension despite the mood as he's overwhelmed.

and then something in his mind snaps and the screaming starts. it's still words. it's still that completely insane mix and match of language and tone, it's just loud and stressed as he stumbles out of the bed for the door with blank eyes that are only taking in the situation enough to register which way is out.]

[ ...he fucked up. he's fucked up, he's fucked up, he's fucked up so many times so at this point, what's one more?

grabbing Yael, pulling him back into his own lap, and covering his mouth. if he gets bitten for his trouble... well, so be it. at least he's in nowhere near the right mindset for it to be any kind of fun. ]

[hell yeah he bites, struggling frantically, eyes still wide and blank as he tries to break Chris's grip with his small, weak body. he's not going to get anywhere with that. he's also crying.

good luck team.]

[ congratulations, we are now two boys crying on the floor of a shitty motel room.

hopefully Yael doesn't break skin :) ]

[he doesn't, but it's dumb luck and also by virtue of him just

blue screening entirely

take your limp silent dead-eyed yael, chris.]

[ ...it isn't like he can do anything else. he waits several moments and then slowly removes his hand, but does not otherwise let go. or move. ]

[so we wanna fast forward the couple of hours until he figures out who the fuck he is right]

[ probably a good idea

on the other hand by that point there is no way Chris has not passed out leaning against the foot of the bed in that way vampires do, lukewarm mostly where Yael was pressed against him and barely breathing.

at least he's got bandages on but. good morning Yael. ]

[christ he fucked up bad

how did he fuck up so bad

...trying to worm his way out of Chris's lap.]

[ there is zero resistance and zero response. ]

[is he dead? did he die over this?!

...no, Yael, Chris is a vampire and you have know way of checking for signs of life. if he's dead you can freak out about it once you're sure.

ssstands, unsteadily, looking around the room.]

[ shitty motel room is incredibly shitty. there's a bed and a table and a padded chair, but not even a television. there's... not really much else. maybe some bloody trash in the bathroom.

...the blinds are also slightly open, sunlight creeping slowly across the floor. ]

[--closing the blinds immediately, fuck that shit. then checking the door is locked and bolted.

then he's kneeling by Chris, trying to get an idea of his injuries.]

[ the bandages are all over his forearms, mostly, with one on his cheek that's poorly covering up a larger slash. his shirt is also a little bit shredded in a few spots, but the skin underneath just looks like he got clawed by a cat or something. there is another ripped away chunk of fabric at his shoulder, with heavier gauze covering up the skin underneath.

more importantly, though, it doesn't look like there's anything that would be anywhere near life threatening. unless maybe the bandages on his arms are covering up something much deeper than they appear to be. ]

[in conclusion vampire fights are stupid as fuck

he relaxes a little once he confirms that Chris isn't too heavily injured, at least, then... climbs back into his lap.]

[ vampire fights are either 100% superficial damage and posturing or end with both parties completely fucked over if it isn't a curbstomp. Christophe was just very likely that his opponent wasn't expecting the second.

he stirs a little—maybe?—as Yael settles again, but it's so slight he may well have been imagining it. aside from, that, it's Yael's turn to wait a few hours. ]

[he's a pretty patient man, honestly. the wait comes easily.]

[ makes a small vague groggy noise at around 4 pm and blearily cracks his eyes open— there's a distinctly bloody tinge to their usual warm brown.

blinking dumbly at Yael and then making some sort of attempt to sit up, which mostly fails because he was sitting up when he fell asleep ]

Ah— you're—

[ what is coherence. ]

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