crescentview | | that's the price you pay

... The hunger? [His tone is imploring, waiting for Adelis to give words to what he's keeping down below. He would like to understand, something that only Adelis has experiences between the two.

He's not completely ignorant to guess, though, but no apprehension crosses his features.]

[ He would rather not, really- give word or form to it, to acknowledge beyond what is necessary. It helps. But he won't get anywhere keeping it locked up, and he's already gotten this far- he supposes there's no backing out no. ]

...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.

... How long do you remember enduring this? [He says he can last longer, but he looks exhausted. If his body has suddenly caught up to an unknown amount of time--how long of that has been spent willingly starving himself? At risk of madness or... death?]

Edited 2023-02-06 18:20 (UTC)

[ That...gives him pause, if but for a moment. Because he hasn't thought about it- in a sense, anyway. He sorts though the fading fog of his mind, brows furrowed lightly despite the far-off look in his eyes. ]

...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.

[He's... not sure of the timeline. That's worrying.] So he decided to force you.

[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.]

[ When one is in the dark, no windows, no tells...it's impossible to tell the time that passes. Not to mention it had felt far, far longer than they had said it had been- no doubt due to some form of liminal mess.

Adelis hates that question- rather, he hates how it's phrased. He's never liked the term, no matter who has used it, even if it's the more apt description. It makes him sound....ever closer to what he would rather not be.

Regardless of the way his mouth twitches, he still speaks. ]

...Most feed off blood, draining it with wounds opened with their teeth. But that is not the case for all, and it was not the case for me nor Benjamin.

[ It's the first he's said the name of any of his old party, now that he thinks about it...and he'd rather not, so it gets passed rather quickly. ]

I feed off energy. In the form of emotions, specifically. [ A bit...difficult to parse, but he scrapes his free hand down the side of his neck as his eyes grow darker in visceral disgust. ] Via the mouth. The more intense, the stronger the feeling- he made a point to tell me it would taste best when one was on the verge of death. An attempt to force me to give in to grievously harming those around me just to indulge myself.

Emotions... but not life force? [He cants his head. And gives Adelis' hand a brief squeeze as he fidgets.] Eating usually comes to a cost to the one being eaten but... do you not actually need to cause harm at all?

Hah.

[ That is a bit of a bitter laugh. ]

If it were that simple, perhaps it would be far easier to deal with. Rather than a drain on the body, it is a drain on the mind- The more I feed, the more exhaustion sets in, and then the delirium. The sensation of one's thoughts fogging and leaving them when it becomes more severe. And just like draining blood, it can kill all the same.

[ His nails dig a bit deeper into his skin. At times, he wishes he could rip it off. ]

Without the mind, the body will soon follow.

Edited 2023-02-07 20:41 (UTC)

... I see. [So it is a firm of life force drain, just indirectly.

He pauses, thoughtful, before he ears the grip on Adelis' one hand so he can reach for the other in a gentle attempt to ease it from his neck.]

... Adelis, I'd like to help you. I understand why you don't want to, but I worry for what it will do to you if you don't eat what's necessary.

[Hiccups, that's what he said. And it's true he needs to kept from hurting anyone... but that includes himself.]

You are strong of mind. Would it help if it were regulated? Consented to?

[ Disgusting, isn't it. He thinks so, and he has thought so since he awoke and the first pains of hunger hit him. Adelis used to think of himself as a confident man, but there is something viscerally unbearable now in looking at himself in the mirror, feeling parts of himself missing. Signs of life replaced by urges and cold.

Cold, as the way Adelis freezes at the request, fingers notably tensing in the other's grip even as they're pulled away from his neck. His head whips around to stare, finally, at Syrlya, as opposed to staring at the table and the blood-stained towel abandoned on the table. ]

You- [ He starts, pauses, grits his teeth. ] Don't just bloody offer yourself to anybody who you think needs it!

[ All these damn people need to learn some fucking self preservation. He doesn't rip his hands away, but his gaze notably shifts again, lips pursing tight. Regulated, consented to...it wouldn't be the first time he's had people help, no, but it still feels....

Pathetic.

Adelis isn't a fool, despite his obvious hesitation. He does not want to admit that in some way, he likes Syrlya's presence, and the idea of accidentally hurting him with this fails to appeal to him in any way. But the other is right- he'll hurt himself, or someone else, eventually. Blue eyes fall down to the teeth and scratch marks on his arms.]

...I can regulate it. I have endured it for long enough that I haven't much of a choice, if I wish to keep myself intact.

I am not offering to just anyone. [His response is firm, with the slightest squeeze in his grip to ask Adelis not to pull away.]

I am offering to a friend. Because even if you can manage on your own--it hurts you. And I care when you hurt.

[ A...friend.

That is enough to drag him into silence, momentarily blinking despite himself. That is...well, nobody has ever called him that before, nor has he ever thought of people in that way. Friends are not in abundance, amongst Ostoya's bleak streets- he has never considered them a necessity, a need.

Adelis feels he should protest, but it dies on his tongue. For some reason, despite the itch it causes, he finds he doesn't mind it. ]

...You're a bloody fool.

[ Despite the words, there is little bite to them.

He takes a few more moments, to mull over the words- the suggestion. He does not want to, obviously- he never does. But this...he supposes is a better alternative, to locking himself up, or, god forbid, finding Mishka again.

He's not ready to deal with that one yet. ]

Do you truly trust my ability to keep myself in check that much? [ A genuine question, because while Adelis' mind is far stronger than most, all the more now for it's trials, the temptation is always there. ] As well as understand exactly what you're offering?

[In this, Syrlya lets the words hand in the silence. Let's Adelis think it over. To call him a friend if an easy thing for Syrlya, even if he didn't expect he was going to say it to Adelis himself so soon.

But then, maybe he needed to beat it before after all.]

I do trust you. And I understand the danger this poses if it goes too far.

[He smiles, confident.] And you can trust in my ability to get out of your grasp of necessary, if you aren't quite ready to trust your own self control.

Edited 2023-02-10 10:03 (UTC)

[ ...It's not as if he has not had to compromise before. To, if needed, occasionally sup from the others if but to stave it off, although he attempted to make the occurrences few and far between. And then there was Mishka, the once-

But once was enough, considering their circumstances.

He is not a fool. He knows he cannot go forever, but after spending so long down in the dark, resisting out of pure spite, hanging by the very skin of his teeth makes him hesitate. Like if he gives in once, it will be the end for him. But he is not down there, there is control in his bones, and Syrlya is not on the verge of death.

The other's grip on him is cool, but it feels vaguely warm and familiar. ]

...I still think you're an idiot. [ In his usual fashion. ] But...I am in no position to refuse, disgusting as it is to admit.

[ How he wishes he was. ]

I will not sate myself fully, however. The urge will return quick enough, regardless.

[Perhaps he is. A foolish heart that bleeds too easily for the people around him. Who else do you get to throw life and future away, to sell themselves to destiny?]

Of course. [He understands the fear of losing precarious control. But just enough that Adelis may sit up a little straighter, think a little clearer, ease a little of the ache his starvation has left him with.

Syrlya shifts up a little, releasing Adelis' hands so that he can reach his own to gently cradle his face. A grip Adelis could push away easy, but hopes he doesn't as he leans in.

... To press his lips to Adelis', the approach slow enough he can assure Adelis is ready before the kiss finds firm placement between soft lips.

And though there is a smile of reassurance, his emotions are occupied with worry, with pain (thanks hangover), with a sympathetic grief.]

[ He wonders when he started trusting Syrlya so much. It took the party ages, the joint experience of their suffering and clash of their personalities, to settle into the form of comfortable they are now- he has had experienced anything close with the other man, and yet the fact he would offer himself without hesitation, call him a friend, trust him....

It. Well, he does not quite know how to describe it, and perhaps it is better if he doesn't right now.

The touch is soft, as it usually tends to be. Adelis doesn't push him away, a glimmer of hesitation flickering in the blue of his sunken eyes, but he swallows it down like he does most things. The slow approach, if anything, gives him a few moments to brace himself before the other's lips touch his.

Adelis does not need to breathe, but when he takes a low breath, the faint taste on his tongue nearly makes him shiver.

Syrlya is alive and well, his emotions not thudding hard against his skull like a wardrum, but the negative- the worry, the grief, the pain- are still heavenly. The sensation of his stomach being empty, starvation and hunger clawing at the walls of his skull and wearing him down ever so slowly, slowly ebbs with the static swirl of the other man's sentiment coiling in his mouth and brushing his tongue. There's a painful urge to clutch tighter and not let go, fill up, faster, till the void is nigh sated, but he keeps his hands to himself to force himself to not. The hunger creaks and protests against his ribs.

It will feel like akin to a slow drain, like when one bleeds, albeit it isn't painful- on it's own, anyway. But Syrlya will find what he's feeling gets more intense, Adelis resisting the urge to press himself closer. ]

[He closes his eyes as they meet, rather than trying to focus through blurry vision.

The spike in intensity of his own feelings surprises him. The drain, he expects. The feel of Adelis' lips, he knows. But he doesn't expect the increase of worry, of his headache being more agonizing. But maybe it makes sense, drawing his lifeforce out of him in such a way. Bringing it to the surface.

His feelings shift just a little as more of them mix in: curiosity, consideration, that mellow out an undercurrent of excitement. He, similarly, holds himself back from pressing any closer. And he does not make any move to pull back either.

He wants to give Adelis the chance, first, to draw the line. And if he struggles, then Syrlya will be ready to catch him.]

[ It is hard, he realizes, far more than expected. It has been so long, wrapped up in the dark and kept on the brink, and whilst he fed a bit after being released (the others, at least were understanding enough of his predicament), it still felt like ages. There is a cold fear in his bones of overindulging exactly as he was designed, which is why he stays his hand, despite how difficult it is. It's a compulsion, like finding an oasis in the desert.

Adelis is not expecting the shift of emotions, if anything, too busy drinking down the negative- and then there's the excitement. The one emotion he probably did not expect to glide past his tongue, and he actually freezes for a brief moment.

Perhaps it's that that snaps him out of it, despite the creaking desperation in his bones to keep going. If he overdoes it, he'll get too used to it- so he pulls away, blinking his bleary, black-rimmed eyes for a few moments as he stares at Syrlya's face.

Then quickly looks away, idly pressing his free hand to his mouth. Hm. ]

...That's...good enough. I'm fine.

[ Perhaps it's best if he doesn't address that right now. ]

[Syrlya similarly pulls back the minute Adelis does, having been attentive for the sign. His hands drop to the table, fingers curling as he blinks rapidly to ward off the haze caused by his emotions being dredged up so strongly.

The smile he offers, soft and reassuring, doesn't belie anything else. Because he has no idea Adelis was getting a literal empathy connection.]

I'm glad. [Ah, he clears his throat.] I apologize for interrupting, I just... I wanted to be sure you are all right. This must be a lot.

| that's the price you pay

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