bitethehandthatfeeds | psl: immortals vs vampires

[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. ]

Yeah. I remember.

Good morning.

[ he's still asleep and unguarded enough that for a moment he just looks wrecked, upset and relieved and tired and guilty—

at least until he fumbles around for his Responsible Adult face and gets it more or less pasted on ]

...Morning. You're all right?

I'm fine.

...You don't need to do that.

[ bringing one hand up to rub at his eyes, relaxing enough to yawn ]

Do what?

[ look at how fine he is ]

Pretending you're fine. You can stop with that.

Edited 2016-09-17 11:13 (UTC)

...I'm tired and hungry and you scared the living daylights out of me. I can't do anything about the first two right now and the third's been taken care of, so freaking out isn't productive. I'll be fine later.

--Yes you can. If you're hungry, then eat.

[tugs the collar of his shirt down.]

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