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for8000amonth) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crescentview2023-01-31 10:35 pm
for8000amonth) wrote in crescentview2023-01-31 10:35 pm
for8000amonth) wrote in crescentview2023-01-31 10:35 pm
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He reaches to tug his gloves off, reaching for Adelis' hand--and stops, hover just an inch above it.] Does this still help?
[Holding hands. But he doesn't specify if he means for the curse or for Adelis' heart.]
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He watches, silently, as Syr pulls the glove from his hand- before idly lifting his own to stare blankly at it and the shadow-stained length of his fingers. Then he sighs, dragging himself to the table to drop down in it before offering up said hand. Take a seat, we're going to be here a while. ]
Regrettably, despite my newfound state, the curse hasn't left me.
[ State is one hell of a way to put it. Undeath? Curse? Even if it isn't one, it still feels like it. Degrading, tainting his being in a way he would even call his worst nightmare. The icy, bottomless sensation of despair when he had awoken the first time had likely been the most vulnerable the others had ever seen him. That feeling had never quite left him, no matter how long ago it was.
And now he's shown that to someone else, if only somewhat muted. The faint out of body experience, likely, is helping in only that regard.
He idly uses the towel and wipes his face with his free hand, watching the faint red streak across the fabric. At least it's decreased in time with the static in his skull- psychic feedback is a bitch. ]
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[For all of it, really, the trials Adelis has been rapidly put through. But he offers no other words after that. Not yet, anyway. He'll let Adelis anchor himself in the silence, and the grip of Syrlya's hands, and determine when he's ready to speak--and of what.
There is much to explain. But it doesn't all have to be today.]
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Part of him...despises the idea of having to drag everything up to the surface. The first time needed no explanation- after all, he wasn't the first of their party to end up on the wrong end of someone's attention, and they knew from nature of travelling together alone. Where to start, after all, is the biggest obstacle.
Adelis lets the slow trickle of warmth under his cold skin harden his resolve, finally pulling his hand away from his face. ]
I suppose I'd better get this out of the way first, if I must- [ Perhaps it will get easier to parse, the more he speaks. ] Before I came here, I died. Not whatever I am now- [ The stillness of his skin and the lack of a pulse. ] but before that.
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Ah.
Syrlya is... not as surprised as he thinks he should be. Ostoya is a harsh place. But something about the wording catches him.]
You... don't mean that your soul was dragged here from the afterlife, do you. [Before this. If it wasn't obvious enough he is the walking undead.]
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[ Were he explaining this to some others, it would likely be harder to deal with- but Syrlya is from a place with dangers just like him, and magic besides. That is a small mercy, in his eyes.
He pinches his brows at the throb of his own headache, but at least the buzzing isn't so distracting. ]
We ended up...somewhere, a town of sorts, where the dead go. Our souls were tethered to what was left of our bodies, or something along those lines- it let us keep our minds intact, unlike many of the others there, who lived in blissful ignorance as to their fates.
[ A light grimace. ]
The dreameater in charge made a deal to return us to our original forms, in exchange for one thing- we would delve into the dreams of three people on the verge of waking and ensure they didn't die as they did in the past, to prevent them from realizing their untimely ends. He didn't inform us as to his nature, but it was easy enough to garner in time.
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That besides, of course Adelis would want to save his own life.] You succeeded, I take it.
[But not without a price.]
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[ A familiar face always makes it harder- none of them had been close to him, but he doesn't feel the need to mention the one of his he had saw. After all, said face is already here, and the details of throwing his dream-self from a dozen floors of a tower is better left unsaid. ]
And no. [ His gaze flickers elsewhere. ] We decided not to trust him, and helped them awaken instead. However I may be, I've little interest in condemning others to an ignorant end. We dealt with him, and managed to have our bodies...re-made.
[ Not fully whole, if the magical scars left on his body are any indication, but it's better than the other option. This is not the point, though- and he continues. ]
...We were not, however, the only ones wading through people's dreams. [ His tone drops. ] We came across someone else whilst traversing one.
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He nods, slowly, not asking the details but he can viscerally sympathize with being remade. But this is about Adelis.]
Who--[Well, the who won't explain much to Syrlya, not yet.] What were they like?
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Nothing good, because he hates, but it brings with it a sickening, feeling of attachment- it's disgust, and yet it feels heavy on his tongue, to speak what he desires. He knows fully well how he feels, but it's wrong, at the same time- ]
Repulsive. [ He finally gets out, idly pressing his nails to the skin in an effort to distract himself. ] To wear the face and robes of a priest whilst your soul is long gone is nothing short of laughable. But Kindred are capable of many things, and dream-walking just happens to be one of his.
[ His fingers still itch from that encounter, the sound of his confessions slipping from his tongue without having a say whilst the shadows tore at his skin, knees pressed to the dirt like a stone was on his back. ]
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He doesn't ask the follow up, expecting Adelis intends to continue anyway. But he lets him have the moment to collect himself, Syrlya only offering a kind and attentive expression.]
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...He took an interest in me. [ He recalls the calm smile on his face, the cold brush of his fingers, and the sensation of dread that has crawled through his veins like a parasite. He can still taste iron on his tongue, not his own. ] I had always been intimately connected to the dead, apparently, and that was fascinating enough. They always like what's fascinating.
[ A few more drops of blood fall to the dark brown of the table, but he ignores it. ]
...He started visiting me after that. I don't remember much of those dreams, only that he was always trying to make himself seem warm. Welcoming. It is hard to escape one who you cannot hide from even in your sleep.
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His gaze flickers to the dripping blood. He resists the urge to wipe Adelis' face.] How rotten. Was he looking for you in the waking world?
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[ He can't remember which of them decided on their next course of action, as it feels like so long ago- even if they had met them a month ago, maybe two maximum. ]
After we got back to the surface, we eventually heard of a festival being held in Koshevek territory- namely, to celebrate the Duke son. Most Kindred have turned many, but nobody had ever heard of another member of the Koshevek clan until then, so it had been...strange.
[ His lips purse to a thin line. ]
One of our members was a hunter, albeit he had a fate similar to mine. It was decided we would investigate, as we didn't have any set course at the time. So we went. In hindsight, we likely should have put more bloody thought into it then we did.
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Absently, Syrlya considers he doesn't know much about the people Adelis knew in Ostoya. He never thought to ask because Adelis made it clear how much he wanted to get away from that place. But he wonders, for a moment... if they were friends.]
Because it is dangerous to get close to Kindred, or... it was a trap?
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Well. He'd get nowhere dwelling on it. ]
Both.
[ There's a bitter bite to it, as everything continues to settle. He was right, at least, about how talking about help sort them easier. ]
We aimed to stay as far away as possible, but he was looking for me in particular. And they are capable of many things, including charming others into doing their bidding willingly.
[ That makes his fingers tighten, because if there's any sensation more disgusting in the world, it's your mind slipping from you into another's fingers. ]
We got separated in the crowd. He came for me. And I came back to my senses, with a cup in my hands and blood in my mouth. Not my own.
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He runs his thumb over the back of his hand, a soothing gesture the only thing he has to offer.]
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The fact he doesn't pull his hand away says enough. ]
We decided to leave the next day. To drink a Kindred's blood is to be bound to them, depending on the amount, and I would sooner run then be left to follow his will. It hadn't been much, so I was still myself.
[ Then he goes quiet for a moment, and his free, blackened hand raises to the side of his neck. ]
But like I said. You can't escape someone who can enter your dreams, and even harder still to resist someone who your mind compels you to listen to, who is far, far stronger than you. [ His eyes flicker, visceral hatred in their depths. This is one weakness he would not forgive himself for. ] I woke up...this. I did not take it well.
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He barely made it out as himself. Adelis was not so lucky.]
... I don't imagine you would have taken it well, no. But I doubt I would have either in your position.
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Benjamin, after all, did not take his well either- for a man dedicated to hunting the very thing he had become, it was the one thing they began to have solidarity over in some form. ]
...The feeling was one thing. [ Once all was said and done, he was able to adjust to the changes, well enough- if only due to sheer spite and resolution alone. However- ] The hunger was worse.
[ Was, like it still isn't there, a gaping void in his chest made worse by the freshness of his escape. Even now, it is hard to push back like he always does, the yawning emptiness scraping at his ribs with a visceral vengeance. ]
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He's not completely ignorant to guess, though, but no apprehension crosses his features.]
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...I told you back in spring what Kindred do. They require feeding off the living to survive. Otherwise, the endless hunger drives them mad 'till they can stand it no longer.
[ He idly brushes a thumb over his lips, near the tip of a sharpened tooth, and lets his lips purse into a thin line. ]
I am only half of one now, but the same applies to me. But I can go far longer, endure it better than most. [ It is only by willpower and sheer determination he resisted every attempt to feed him, but the remnants of said effort remain etched in his skin, the lines up his arms clear as day from the raking of his nails. ] I refuse to indulge myself and become what he wants me to be, which is something I'm not.
[ A monster. A parasite. A soulless creature, glutting himself whenever the want arises. ] And I am ever used to starvation, anyway.
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...I moderated myself before, capable of going for long periods of time. It took a while for me to be able to deal with it, but I had a staunch refusal to give in, albeit with...hiccups. It is not something that is denied easy.
[ He had help, yes, albeit from different sources- a certain someone's involved the nailing of his hands to a wall, and he can faintly feel the throb of the blade still, after he managed to pull himself together. ]
...Before I came here, however, my sire decided by keeping myself in check, I was not living up to his lofty expectations. [ He spits the word sire like it's something foul, bitter upon the tongue. ] So he sought to fix that.
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[Not a question, though there's still the question of what means he took to do so.
Syrlya's gaze goes over Adelis again, taking in the state of him. He's starving, and Syrlya understands his reason for not wanting to give in, it must not be able to kill him but...]
Will you tell me how it works? This new urge. How is it you... feed.
[They can get back to the story in a moment. He's worried, but not for his sake.]
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