revivalproject | Venez à Moi

Entry tags:

Venez à Moi

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Very normal. Clearly. Lestat huffed in his chair as Tony fussed, that strange feeling growing worse, and then there's a knock. And whatever it is on the other side of the door, it prompted a hiss from the vampire once Tony had opened to door to it.

And then of course there came the barking. Animals never did take well to his kind. And they must have made quite the sight, a mess of blood between them, Lestat's fangs bared towards the door. It was a chaotic scene.

"*C'est quoi ce bordel?!" he demanded.

(*What the fuck?!)

Jon's eyes remain locked with Tony's while the dog begins to bark and Lark joins the scene. He raises a brow at Tony, then casts a nod in Lark's direction. A mixture of greeting and apology.

"I would also like to know why you are bringing a vampire to Lark's private space, Tony." He says at last. His voice is measured and controlled, the faint crackling of static rippling through the reality of the place more a warning to the supernatural being that already displayed its intentions. Jon points up at the covered wound on Tony's neck. "And that needs to get disinfected."

He barely finishes those words when his eyes dart over to Lestat, causing the oppressive sensation of being opened up and put on display to increase greatly.

It felt like Tony should have already known, "You have a dog?" Maybe that wasn't very important right now. Maybe five minutes ago, when Tony thought he could sneak into Lark's space. Without being perceived by the god of perception. Tony's focus dragged back to him in time to catch that accusatory brow, leaving Tony's mouth open without a good apology yet ready. The blond man was not helping, and Tony had to unweld a hand from its tight wrap around his chest to try a sharp, quieting gesture behind his back, even as he complained, "You have to stop accusing people of being vampires, we'll introduce you to some real vampires some day, I promise."

As discreetly as he could manage, he kept his weight against the doorframe as he rolled over to better turn toward Lark, because that seemed like a fine enough segue to introduce...His one freed hand hung in the air, fingers splayed toward the hissing guy with the big teeth covered in blood who bit him, and he frowned, tongue to his own teeth. "What did you say your name was?" he asked, like their introduction had all been perfectly polite and Tony had more apologies to make for being so forgetful. In his defence, he was starting to forget how to keep his knees locked, too.

"Language," Lark says reflexively when Lestat curses. That's just not appropriate, especially given the mess he's made of her space. She returns a gracious nod to Jon and then sweeps into the room with all of her serene grace to open a cedar box. Though not before closing the door to shut said dog out. Which earns more barking and whimpers because Little Bear is NOT OKAY with leaving Lark near such danger.

She does not see it as danger though. She can feel Jon being... testy. She figures that has to do with the state Tony is in.

"Yes, Tony, I have a dog, and come here," she directs him. "I haven't delivered the latest batch of spelled cloth to the hospital yet with all of our healers out. I should get one over wherever you're bleeding from. Your poorly tempered guest can wait. Jon, would you be a dear, there's a chair just in the corner here, would you bring it over?"

Yes, Lestat has clearly behaved poorly enough to earn being ignored until someone she cared about was addressed first.

That sensation makes Lestat's hair stand on end, exposed and vulnerable and were he at full strength he might have darted away with that inhuman speed, or pinned this...being to the wall with his inhuman strength and torn his throat out for daring to turn that eye on him. But weakened and still poisoned, Lestat was rooted to the spot, glowering back the thing in the doorway. Whatever it was, he was sure it wasn't human.

He didn't understand why Tony tried so hard to smooth things over. Perhaps it was out of fear this thing held over him, and he couldn't help a dry smirk. "...Lestat," he supplied graciously.

He arched a brow at the woman and he admonishment, but seemed far more insult by her ignoring his presence after that moment than anything.

“Listen to her, Tony. You are about to fall over.” Jon grumbles, his attention shifting back to the wounded man and he places a flat hand between his shoulder blades to gently but firmly push him in Lark’s direction so he can step past and fetch the requested chair.

“The entire hospital staff has been pulled away to the Calibrations area. Your timing is impeccable as always.” But at least he is back in the city. Which Jon feels glad about despite everything. Tony being here with his mess at least means Jon can deal with it properly. He can be useful and help. As much as he has become a being of observing, Jon prefers having a more active part.

The reason they were here was to make use of Lark's tools, though there were a lot more eyes on them now than Tony was hoping for and he hung back reluctantly long enough to startle anxiously at the touch to his back. Ideally, he could sink back into it, he would be floorshow new if he could just rest his head on Jon's shoulder for one second. Instead, he pinched his own ribs to drag away from that touch before it could linger, forcing him to actually do as he was told in the limited space and options. The stubborn out would be going nearer to the new man instead, whom Tony was increasingly sure might have actually been a vampire. Tony splayed a hand with widened eyes as he passed as though to ask why Lestat would not have just told him this before they were in this mess.

"Pleasure to see you, as ever, sweetheart," he mumbled as he came unsteadily alongside Lark, realizing he should maybe get a little politeness in because he was about to continue seamlessly with his hand out and without much room for patience, "Some thread, and a needle, too, please, thanks, bill me."

"And why could you need those at this hour and not just ask me, Tony?"

She gives Jon a grateful smile and continues to pointedly ignore Lestat. Tony wasn't bloody for nothing, and she expects this stranger is correct. Then her hands open the cedar chest and she brings out a roll of cloth. She takes it to Tony and gestures for his neck.

"Sit there my dear, and bare your neck for me. The bandaging will help it seal better and reduce infections."

Seething slightly, Lestat canted his head to the side, a tight smile on his face.

"No, please. It's quite all right, ignore me," he excused, pushing to his feet. He might have tried to attack if not for the presence of that being he still doesn't understand, crossing instead to try and exit the room and let these mortals(?) attend to their affairs.

With the chair delivered and knowing he can trust Lark to take care of Tony's wound, Jon finds his own attention shifting back to the vampire, well aware of what the man is planning to do.

"You will not leave." He states plainly, but to Lestat the words will come with the weight of reality attempting to adjust to make them true. It's different from the Compulsion Jon used to inflict on others. Those were suggestions. Now? He makes decisions. But how well his powers work on an actual vampire Jon cannot say. Especially since this type of vampire is very different from the ones Trevor Herbert hunted.

Jon turns to the man, his expression stern. When he speaks again, his voice lacks those oppressive layers and the lingering static around them eases away. "Since you are meant to stay here with everyone else, we need to make sure you aren't harming anyone. But obviously you need to eat." And that issue is one Jon remembers quite well from when he first came to Temba himself.

"You were asleep..." didn't sound like a very good excuse when Lark plainly wasn't, so Tony mumbled it as he dropped back into the chair like Lark's command was just as potent as Jon's. Even in his depleted slouch, listing to the side, Tony looked dubiously at the cloth and her magical offer, trying to dredge up a convincing enough delivery to get that needle out of her to take care of it himself, his already flagging focus easily punctured by Jon's voice.

A vampire needed to eat, and this one had made a questionable choice. "You should take care of him first, something's wrong," Tony said, maybe a little tiny bit to redirect Lark's magical attention, maybe a little tiny bit guilty, maybe growing more than a tiny bit concerned that the guy he thought was drunk was suffering the consequences of drinking Tony Stark's destructive blood. Tony couldn't really explain the clumsy stumbling in the fountain that had left them both soaked, or partially carrying Lestat up to the room; what did come out more easily was, "I think I killed him." As much as he didn't want anyone else seeing how vulnerable he was, this confession might as well come with the murder weapon, so Tony finally allowed the nanoweb to slip away and go dripping back down his neck under his collar. Along with the animal claws that had pressed into his cheek, his neck had been torn by a clumsy bite, a ragged rip through the skin where Lestat hadn't properly been able to sink his teeth in and instead was dragged down Tony's shoulder.

Lark was careful in wrapping the bandages around the bared wounds on Tony's neck. She tore the cloth bandage with a small gesture that still managed a perfect tear that should not have been possible. Then she pressed the end against the rest of the wrappings and it wove together. With one final whispered word the thing applies light pressure and warmth.

"There. I'll help with the cheek in a moment."

Because she's heard Jon, and can put together his implication. While she has no idea what a vampire was, and it was clear the man was not actually dying, well, she'd ensure the man stayed for Jon to speak to. She reached out a hand toward Lestat, letting her magic flow outward, sinking into the man's clothing. The fibers of his clothes constricted, pulling tight, until his arms would be at his sides and the fibers of the arms woven into the body of the shirt. His pants were busy in a similar way as well.

"Jon, what's going on here? You seem to have a better idea than I do. Are we in danger from this man?"

The Compulsion made Lestat sneer, doubting it's power. But soon found he could not leave no matter how he willed himself to do, and leveled a dangerous glare at Jon as he spoke.
"Are you offering?" he spat in annoyance, and turned his head in surprise at Tony's worry for him. He'd half ripped the man's throat out and was prepared to do far worse, and here he was advocating for him.

He was distracted from this strange behavior as he found himself yet further constricted, hissing as he was bound by his own clothing, twisting violently and causing himself to topple over. He seethed, coughing up yet more blood and feeling quite humiliated. "*Mange tes morts!" he growled sharply in frustration.

(*fuck off!, but literally translated 'Eat your dead bodies' :D )

While Jon scowls at those words, he doesn't react to them otherwise. Certainly not by verbally retaliating.

"The only thing I am offering is information - And a warning." Which only feels fair. "The population of this city isn't large. Therefore will be quickly known if you attack anyone. And there are beings on this planet that are more willing to return the favor than those of us currently present here are." He gestures from himself over to Lark and Tony. "This you should be mindful of."

He proceeds to produce his phone and opens up the database entry about the blood vines, turning the device to show a picture of the plant to the vampire. "These are blood vines. They grow over in Sh'Ka and their berries store the blood the plant harvested from living beings. These should be able to sustain you until we can send out a request if anyone is willing to donate blood under controlled conditions once everyone gets released from Calibrations." This should cover the actually useful information as well as a general warning about what Lestat may face when challenging Temba's population.

Jon lets those words settle before his eyes narrow and he crosses his arms, exhaling once before his tone turns sharp for a more personal addition. "I will watch you. And if you hurt my boyfriend again, I promise you that I will make the sun itself shine out of your ass." Nope, he is not letting this slide.

Lark worked so smoothly and confidently that Tony didn't have the opportunity to argue any further, if she had even heard him the first time or took any notice of his sluggishly anxious hands plucking at her sleeves as she moved. "It's fine, I'm fine, no one's in danger," he muttered, maybe especially now that Lark had done her magical work, not that he would admit to that, and his tugging at her dropped down to her hip to try to stay this binding she was doing of Lestat. He fell back into his seat as Lestat dropped, feeling like he might be sick himself, if he could spare the water.

Jon taking confident control of the situation was mildly reassuring, maybe the vampire wasn't about to die from Tony's poison blood if Jon didn't think so as he laid out what was about to happen so surely. After a beat, still heavy in his chair with both hands pressed to his chest, glancing between the three of them like he thought someone else would say it, he asked, "Have you always been this hot?"

"Language," Lark reminded the man as she sighed. That wasn't going to do much. But she stands back for the moment, held by Tony's light tugging. That doesn't mean she releases the man.

Perhaps because she's so busy thinking. Jon seems to be implying something, and put together with what Tony was saying... Well, she sighs.

"Tony, dear, if you could resist flirting with your love for a moment, I need a favor. There is a glass in my room through that door, just by the bed. Could you slip in and fetch it. Feel free to finish the water. Come back, and don't let Little Bear through."

Then she finally moves forward, especially given Tony's released her. She moves to the bound man's side and she considers him.

"Is what Jon and Tony are saying correct? You consume blood as nourishment, and something in Tony's made you ill?"

It was a whole, whole lot to take it. Not wanting to appear weaker than he all ready felt, Lestat tried to not show just how overwhelming it all way, from that utterly foreign and fascinating piece of technology, to the strange fruits in some place he doesn't know, and the people away in 'Calibration'- isn't that something you do with an automobile? Boyfriend. Ah.

His eyes slid over to Tony, listening to his heart beat- still weak. It had started weak, but somehow he seemed less close to death now than when he'd first scented him.

He'd never had a human call him out for what he was before. Not ones he wasn't about to eat at least, and it was strange to be faced with these questions.

He groaned out a laugh, shaking his head. "His blood is the reason I'm not all ready dead."

A good amount of Jon's focus is pulled away from glaring at the vampire in favor of casting an incredulous look back at Tony and spending a few moments showing off his best fish on land impression in a not entirely successful attempt at not turning beet red. "E-excuse me-?"

Yes, that's what he has to say to that. Fortunately Lark is there to keep everything together and make sure this little gathering is pulled back on track.

It's the vampire's attitude that puts the scowl back on Jon's face. "That's not a laughing matter. Are yu willing to cooperate with us or are you going to be a pain in the ass?"

With only a twinge of apology for interrupting Jon's command over the room, and a lot more delight that he had been the one to manage it and still fluster Jon so thoroughly, Tony raised a hand and an eyebrow back at that blush as though to ask how else he was supposed to be reacting. Lark's gentle instruction suggested this might not have been the best time to press the issue, though that didn't stop Tony from continuing as he struggled to his feet, "Okay, but pretend I still am, everyone act like I'm still here and being completely obscene." That solved the problem of finding the energy to do it himself, anyway. He shuffled gingerly off, lingering at the doorway to support himself, then again as the dog pushed his nose through the crack and Tony found he had to spend more time flirting with this new creature. He'd find his way back eventually, maybe.

These young men, all they could do was flirt. Really, Lark was just so amused by them some days. For now she kneels by Lestat.

"But you need more to stabilize, correct? Would it matter who you had it from?"

Clearly she would not ask of Jon and Tony, but given who she was and what her beliefs were, of course she would willingly offer to even a man who had hurt another, just to give him a chance.

Meanwhile, there was Little Bear, whining and barking. Please Tony, just let him in to growl at the scary things. It's his doggy duty!

So it's love then. He eyed that flush and rolled his eyes at the pair of them. "Have I been *less* than cooperative?" he snapped, arching a brow at his current position. Yes, he'd torn the man's throat out. And yes, he would have drained him completely if whatever strange power hadn't continued to throw him into the fountain. But within this room he'd more or less been on his best behavior.

Looking up at the woman he tried to probe her mind, amused to find her sentiment to be genuine. His eyes drifted down along her neck and he nodded. The poison in his system wasn't helping, but with blood he would heal. "...I have certain preferences," he said, looking her over with a pointed smile, "But it shouldn't matter."

Jon watches Tony moves to the other room, doing his best to convince himself that now, that the wound has been taken care of, he will be fine.

Though he also catches the way Lestat ogles Lark's neck, which earns the vampire another glare as Jon plants his hands on his own hips. "Jesus Christ. She's offering to help. Can you not act like a fucking creep about it?"

His expression turns concerned when he shifts it over to Lark. He has at least an idea of what she intents to do. "Are you sure about that?"

Tony was totally fine. After he managed to get up off of the ground, he might even remember what he came in here for. It probably had not been to calm this dog down, that wasn't usually what anyone expected of him, but someone had to kneel down and wrap their arms around the surprisingly formidable beast do get it to stop whining, and that it let Tony rest his head on its furry, warm shoulder was just a temporary bonus while Tony's vision cleared. He couldn't be actively napping while he muttered, "Good boy, nothing to worry about, good boy..."

Yes, he is being rather creepy, isn't he? Lark sighs and looks to Jon because his question is more pressing.

"I am. I am of the Living Circle, and I believe all things must be in balance. Including this. What I might give willingly will spare it being taken from others. I no more judge a wolf for its hunting than I would this man. Though I suppose with higher reasoning such as he has, he should be held to a higher standard. Which is, of course, why I sent Tony for the glass."

Because she is going to do this like someone civilized. Which means the man was going to have to deal with a water glass of donated blood.

"Speaking, of, he should be back by now."

Little Bear, of course, disagrees with Lark. There is a man here who is cuddling him while he's very distressed. This is so much better. He's even being called a good boy. His whimpering diminishes a little, his tail wags freely, and yes, unless blocked very effectively, Tony was going to get some doggy kisses.

"She asked a question. I answered. How am I being a creep?" Lestat asked, arching a brow. "You're the ones who have me trussed up like a Christmas goose."

As for the glass, Lestat had indulged that way before, though he preferred the theatrics that came with it- of slowly draining the victim through the night, having them watch as their essence was sipped at like a fine wine...

Venez à Moi

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Perhaps at this point we split to two threads? Boys cuddle and lark feeds?

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Jon still has a glass to deliver I guess

sorry i got lost