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[marquisdemort]

Who: Lestat de Lioncourt, Open
What: Arrival
Where: Temba
When: End of month (during calibrations, so limited to those who are outside atm)
Warnings: Blood, vomiting, violence, Please reply to Opt IN/OUT" post



Even Lestat's hyper acute senses couldn't quite catch where the change had happened. One moment he was facing down the ultimate betrayal, and the next he was outside in some utterly unfamiliar and strange looking place, Loius, Claudia and Antoinette no where to be found. He couldn't smell a trace of them on the air- air that was thankfully dark, he realized- looking up at the strange stars with a snarl. His insides churned, and vomited up more blood, looking quite the bloody mess. Despite this and all the more pressing issues, his eyes landed on a strange...orb, and he staggered towards the thing with purpose. He could feel the hold it had over him, but couldn't fight the urge, hissing at the orb or whatever force was inside his mind, before surrendering to the compulsion to touch the thing. It spoke all sorts of things to him, and when he finally pulled back with wide eyes he was panting, feeling weak and vulnerable in a way he hadn't experienced in a very long time.

The poison in his veins distracted him from any further thoughts into the 'how and why' of things, doubling over to empty up more blood from his stomach, crawling along the ground and trying to scent out a source of blood- any blood- that wasn't his own.

Comments

[in_extremis]

As though in answer to his prayers, a splash of blood appeared.

To Tony, it was a bloom of warmth that hardly registered as his back slammed against stone, sending a shock up his spine and forcing a growl out of his lungs, almost making him drop both of his arms that were flung up defensively. His hands grasped at nothing, only strangely cool air, the twist of his snarl fading before he could bring himself to slit open his eyes. He expected to hear a roar of hunger, not the wet splatter on stone somewhere to his right. He expected to see the dark press of the alien forest around him, not the open square and familiar glow of the data point. That should have been miles away.

The stone at his back must have been the fountain, not a gnarled root digging into his spine, and with clumsy urgency he dragged himself around to first scoop a hand through the fresh, cool, abundant water. That pretense was quickly abandoned to shove his face into the pool instead, the scrambling and final hitch the last encouragement that the metal plates clinging precariously to his clothes needed to fall away. Tony didn't hear the clatter as he came up for air, and didn't have much time to regret drinking too much at once on his desperately empty stomach as he watched the red splash into the water through the tangle of his hair in his eyes. It was a wide, dark bloom, even in the meagre glow of the orb, enough to make Tony lift a hand with concern to his cheek, torn open by the claws of the thing that should have killed him.

That was why he was here.

Bastards.

[marquisdemort]

The man appeared out of nowhere, but Lestat didn't care so much for the specifics in that moment, only for the scent of blood in the air- which he crawled eagerly towards. He lapped at blood spilled over the ground like an animal, far too pale, gathering enough strength to catch at the source of the blood and drape himself over the man's back. He licked a stripe up his bloody cheek before unceremoniously tearing into his throat with desperate need.

[in_extremis]

The claws and teeth were supposed to be back in the woods. Already struggling to get his bearings, Tony had barely turned toward the noise, trying to think of some apology or excuse for his appearance, he was normally in a tuxedo by now, honest, and was left wondering why he was thinking about tuxedos at all as the weight suddenly dropped on his back and pressed him breathless into the stone lip of the fountain. There wasn't room left for him to gasp then at the wet swipe up his cheek, his hand already flailing back to find some purchase before he found out the worst was yet to come.

It felt like more of that lick, melting into his neck like a kiss, only the hot rush dripping down his chest and splattering into the water shocking him into realizing that should have hurt more. That adrenaline had him shoving away from the stone for some leverage as he grabbed for hair then shirt blindly over his shoulder to roll the attacker over his head and dunk them both into the fountain.

[marquisdemort]

It would have normally been a laughable attempt, but Lestat was weak in that moment, fighting to keep hold of his meal as he was flipped humiliatingly into the water of the fountain. He tried to pull the man after him, or at least keep him from running, panting indignantly as he tried to wrestle his way back onto one of those warm veins.

"Se tranquille," he hissed.

[in_extremis]

Tony might have commiserated and admitted he'd be just as indecent to a hamburger right about then, except he didn't particularly like being the hamburger, and he wasn't about to die right there in the middle of the city. He had been trying too hard to get out of it to lose that badly. It wasn't a dignified struggle. It was mostly splashing, where Tony at least had the advantage of leverage still on the dry side of the fountain to brace his knees, and yet this very presumptuous man was still shockingly resilient. "What--the--hell--!" Tony grit out as he tried to wrench his arms out of their hold, and only stopped with his fists clenched and biceps straining to meet the man's eyes wildly and snap back, "You calm down!" He was not the one biting people.

[marquisdemort]

The man's thoughts were closed off to him in a way Lestat had only ever experienced with his maker and those he had made himself. A human had never managed to shut him out so completely, and if not for the roaring heartbeat and very real evidence of blood he'd wonder if the man were dead.

"Quiet, you-" he growled, keeping hold of one of those damn arms, too sharp nails slicing at the wrist greedily trying to suck down more.

He didn't get much before he found himself suddenly blinked away- not far- dropped from the air back down into the fountain with a confused and indignant shout. How had he done that??

[in_extremis]

In the spirit of generosity, Tony would say this insane man was very determined and goal oriented. This was very difficult to keep in mind as more of his skin tore, and Tony could have broken his own wrist to try to wrench himself free. "Shit--what--?!" He didn't have nearly enough fuel for both words and shoving at that murderous face, fingers curling tightly in the blood matted hair to push away from being licked again.

He was thrown back.

It was an overdrawn chord snapping, all of the strain Tony was putting in to pull himself back suddenly throwing him onto his back as the hold broke, the click of his own teeth vibrating in his skull like the warning hum of steel lashing through the air. With black dots swarming his vision, he still scrambled backward, smearing blood across the stone, pushing himself up on his hands until he was sprawled a safer few feet from the fountain, and could try to squint at the thrashing man in the water. This didn't seem to suit either of their (admittedly very unclear) goals. "Why did you do that??" Tony demanded.

[marquisdemort]

"Putain de bordel de merde!" Lestat hissed in frustration, and leveled a glare at the man, "You think I did this to myself??" he snapped pointedly, slapping the water and pushing unsteadily to his feet.

"You. You have some sort of magic-"

[in_extremis]

What the guy did or didn't do to himself was his own business. It was the biting and clawing and then topping it off with insults like magic that had Tony widening his eyes and glancing around like there was anyone else in this city that could explain what he had done to deserve this now. It couldn't have been that hard to come up with something, there was a pretty substantial list of transgressions he had to answer for. "Me?" he demanded, more offended than by the physical aggression, which maybe he should be dealing with by at least pressing one hand to the torn skin of his neck. "This is 100% science, baby," maybe didn't deserve to be declared with so much pride when that all natural, no hexes body was bleeding out. "If you're looking for a magic snack, you could have just asked, I might know a guy."

[deal_me_in]

Unfortunately there wasn't a whiff of blood to be caught by this particular individual, unless he'd missed a stain or two from some ancient and by now unknown kill. Or perhaps a M'Goose. Hey, when you used a knife things got messy, okay? It was why Cayde preferred a gun.

The Exo's footsteps were heavy on the worn and cracking pavement of the city's square, heavy but casual, and in a way graceful as he wasn't stomping about in those boots of his. He had no reason to sneak currently but he could be quiet when needed.

"Oof, look what the Agrii have dragged in. Gotta say, you look worse than the usual."

[marquisdemort]

Truly, he must have been dying- Lestat thought, squinting at the figure in confusion. He couldn't smell a trace of blood on him, couldn't hear that pounding drum of his heart...even his thoughts seemed wrong some how, faint but overly complex.

And yet the thing spoke.

"...what are you?" he murmured.

[deal_me_in]

The metal-faced man's features literally lit up in amusement, his optics brightening and the back of his throat glowing amber as his jaws parted in something of a smile.

"Me? I'm an Exo. Name's Cayde. You? Clearly need a doctor or something. Unfortunately I think they're all out, so most I can do is get you to a bed and you tell me what your situation is so I can try to tackle it better," he said as he stepped closer to stoop down near the other.

[marquisdemort]

An Eco. It's some sort of machine? Like nothing he's ever seen, and Lestat stared up at the thing for a moment, wanting to possess it.

"...Lestat," he answered belatedly, grimacing as the poison he's ingested causes him to cough up more blood.

"I need blood," he hisses, which should be obvious, who wouldn't need blood when they've clearly lost so much.

[deal_me_in]

"Yeesh, I'll say! The Agrii really needa work on timing. I thought they did health checks before they released us into the wild here!"

Cayde leaned back a bit before moving to try sliding an arm under Lestat's. He wasn't really sure the guy was cut out for walking so he was ready to just carry him if he wasn't going to fuss too much about it.

"Ah hell, the doctors are all stuck in the tunnel as far as I know," he grumbled. "We can check the hospital though. Not sure if anyone's been doing blood donations but I remember Al asking about samples not too long ago so maybe we'll find something."

[marquisdemort]

Utterly unsure what to make of all this, Lestat really didn't have much choice but to lean on this...Cayde for support. His legs wouldn't hold him up for long, and coupled with the slick of the blood on his hands he nearly collapsed again, growling in frustration.

"Hospital," he agreed, "That will work." Plenty of meal options there in his experience.

[deal_me_in]

"Hopefully, anyway," Cayde noted. Seeing as dragging this guy along, bloody mess and all, was probably not an option, princess carry it would have to be!

"Alrighty, up we go! Thankfully it's not too far."

[marquisdemort]

Oh no. No no no. Lestat's jaw tightens, trying to shake his head against the indignity of being scooped up like some broken doll, but he's really in to position to disagree right now, huffing very much like a cat that's been forced in a bath for it's own good.

"...quickly then-" he grumbled.

[belladonic]

The close, soft darkness was a familiar enough home that Claudia hardly wondered about it as she stirred, eyes fluttering reluctantly open as she took a slow, deep breath of wood and polish. It was only then, with her eyes open, that a nagging disquiet took hold, but it would have to wait; first, she had to get up, she had to push the lid of the coffin open, crawl up on her knees, and reach for the glowing orb that had never been above her head before.

She was screaming before she could hear it. There was all of this noise in her head, so much information she simply did not understand, and when she opened her eyes again her arm outstretch before her was crumbling in ash. The sun bore down on her skin like an open flame. She snatched her hand away from the hypnotic, glowing ball with a panicked hiss, then another shriek as she flung herself back down to slam the coffin closed above her, shutting out the violent light. It shuddered as she flailed inside, stamping out the flames that had caught in her hair and danced all the way up to her scalp, then went still as she clutched at her neck where so much of her skin at crumbled away, breathing her own ash in rapid, panicking gulps.

She hadn't been in a coffin in years. She certainly hadn't fallen asleep outside. And she had never seen a building so tall in her little, old life.

The bones left of her hands had crawled up onto her face, clutching at her cheeks as she began to cry in desperate shrieks, so she could feel each sob all the way down to her kicking feet, until she could figure out what to do. First, the sun had to go down.

[marquisdemort]

The danger of the sun was replaced by an arguably far more dangerous force in Lestat as he happened upon that familiar coffin. His dear sister, daughter, infant death. That fate should bring her here after what she did.

He perched on the lid of that pretty little coffin, sharp nail tracing over the lid with a hum, and he rapped his knuckles on the wood with the first notes of 'Shave & and Haircut', an eager look on his face.

[belladonic]

It took absolutely forever, a new, awful immortality, an endless day for the sun to sink. And by the time Claudia's sobs had quieted to whimpers that mostly lingered because she didn't entirely know what else to do, her muscles still ached and skin itched awfully, and the only thing she really could do to escape it was try to sleep. Tense and in pain, it had seemed fitful to her, but it still came that a sudden knocking above her head startled her very awake, and the close air in the coffin was cooler than she remembered.

She listened, eyes wide and hands pressing into either side of the box, trying to sense what was out there and how quickly she would have to move to kill, but her coffin was outside. How was she supposed to figure out where anything was? She gave an abrupt, determined shove at the lid, intent to spring out and at least have some advantage of surprise, only to be met with resistance. After a beat of surprise, she gave another hard shove, making the lid clatter, which she immediately regretted as she tried to pivot to a sweet, high, tremulous voice, "Hello? It's awfully scary in here..."

[marquisdemort]

The futile shove made Lestat roll his eyes, hardly jostled at all, and his lips curled as she tried again.

"My poor dear," Lestat purred, putting on a little dramatic pout that couldn't be seen but was more than evident in his voice. "You should think you'd be used to it by now..."

[belladonic]

That pathetic voice was gone, dropping a note and flattening defensively as Claudia answered, "Uncle Les?" This felt like an unnecessarily elaborate gambit just to...what? Bring her home? All of that stuff she had seen before, the glowing ball and the big buildings and those scared people, that had seemed very real and not an illusion at all. It was much more sincere when Claudia whimpered, "Uncle Les, what is going on? I had a room, a locked up basement no one had been in in years, I was miles away..."

[marquisdemort]

"Oh, it's Uncle Les again, is it?" he drawls with a scowl, still undecided how exactly he'll deal with his ungrateful little fledgling. But then she continued, and it gave him pause, frowning softly in consideration.

"...You haven't come back to us," he concluded. He didn't understand how such a thing was possible, but he did find himself believing those words. He slid off of the coffin, wrenching it open abruptly and looking down at her with judgmental distain.

[belladonic]

The slide was distinctive enough that Claudia strained to hear what he meant to do next, eyes narrow in the dark, and was taken by surprise again as the coffin suddenly opened and she gasped a gulp of cool night air, blinking rapidly in the sudden flare of light from the bright stars above, cut through by the looming shape of Lestat. She might have shrunk away from that snarl, but now that the sun was down, those stars were wonderful, and she quickly sat up, ducking around his arm impatiently to get a better look at the strange pattern they made, dazzling points reflected in her wide eyes. She didn't see the constellations, the bear, the cross, they were gone, like someone had mixed them all up and started all over again. "Where have I gone?" she wondered.

[marquisdemort]

Seeing her there in the flesh, Lestat hesitated, that rage having had a brief time to settle since his arrival, but still fresh. He should strike her down. End her now, regardless of whatever time she comes from, it will end the same. She'll try to end him first.

And yet- he doesn't strike, jaw tense as he watches her look up at the strange stars with that annoyingly curious nature of hers, eyes flicking up to gaze at them himself.

"Did you not listen to their strange little ball of light?" he admonished with a drawl, as though it should be obvious.