resistmyself | || double-zero || action ||

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|| double-zero || action ||

[Focus.

Hal has the book in hand - has read a great deal of it, reasoned out its functions - but he's yet to make an entry of his own. No, that's making his presence known in way more public a manner than he prefers. As a vampire, he tended to avoid communities this small (unless he ran them, and that wasn't something he was interested in doing now) as it made hiding his presence a little more difficult. Everyone knew each other in a small town.

He'd found himself on the floor of the item shop when he woke up, which was fortunate since that meant he didn't have to walk through the streets topless. It also meant he came across his domino set, which was an odd thing to find among everything else but he isn't complaining. He buried it in a pile of some other junk. He'd come back for it later once he had a better idea of what was going on.

There's no sign of Alex or Tom, which is problematic - made more so with every entry in the journal he reads.

Focus.

He has to take stock of things outside the shop eventually. There has to be some other non-human entity in this place aside from himself, and if there is he needs to find any such individual as quickly as possible. He's still too volatile to be thrown into this situation with only humans to look to for help.

The sunlight doesn't bother him. That's one vampire trope his kind is lucky enough to avoid in reality. Hands in the pockets of his newly re-acquired coat, with the fingers of one latched firmly to a single piece from his domino set, Hal keeps close to the buildings as he makes a slow circle around the center of town.

This place is basically everything he doesn't want, and not losing it on this alone takes a great deal of determination.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Because it was an awkward and frankly unnecessary question regarding your humanity.

You've answered it suitably, if not in any manner I expected. Again, I apologize for even making that my business.

[Though he's still unsure of where said mutant factor comes in, but it's clearly all under the skin.]

Edited 2013-05-21 02:42 (UTC)

[This was starting to get weird. Considering this was Luceti, the fact that it approached the weirdness threshold so quickly wasn't really surprising as much as it was annoying. Did life ever stop finding new ways to get strange?

If he didn't recognize her from one of the broadcasts or any other medium, then he had a different reason for asking her whether or not she was human. And while what he was and why he was really wasn't any of her business, Rogue felt he'd opened up this door by asking her first.

Rogue resigned herself to spending more time here than she had planned. She reigned in her desire to just drop the discussion and move on with her outing and instead gave the New Feather her full attention - or as much attention as she could spare with a dozen or so raging voices inside her head.]

I answered it honestly, because where I'm from the question of whether or not mutants are considered human is still up in the air. You're right, where I fall on that spectrum ain't your business - but now you've got me wonderin' why you asked.

[She pauses a moment, and then both in an effort to make this a little less awkward and potentially hostile and because she's decided to spend her time here, asks:] What's your name?

[Of course it was a matter of her world, just as he'd suspected. He should have left it at that. Continuing to let his curiosity get the better of him here would only lead to more mishaps.

He does his best to compose himself, giving her a smile and a shake of his head.]

You're right. It was unforgivably rude of me to start asking any sort of question without a proper introduction.

[And even though it goes against his very nature, he's already started this off on the wrong foot so he might as well try to save himself with a fall and roll.]

My name is Hal Yorke. ...I am a vampire.

[There is a pause here as Rogue mulls over the fairness of the universe, life in general, and her place in it.]

...Gawd, that sounds like the beginning of an AA meeting.

[Of course, he might not know what an AA meeting is and the rather nice British accent could belong to any number of worlds, named or unnamed, but it was really something Rogue said as she struggled to get her footing back in the conversation.

Okay. Vampire. Rogue, think.]

Considering you're not burnin' up or goin' for my throat, I'm guessin' you're a... different type than the kind I've heard of?

[Not the kind of questions that Rogue's usually comfortable asking, but then this conversation had started out on a more personal note than she was usually accustomed to pursuing anyway. And 'vampire' translated into enough of a clear and present threat that Rogue didn't exactly feel held back by her usual restrictions.]

Yes, and I've been clean for over fifty-five years.

[Mostly, if you discount one slip-up.]

There have been such meetings for vampires, admittedly. Rarely. And they usually end in disaster from what I hear.

But your foray into the fictional realm of my kind must have not been very lengthy, as the rules given to us in mainstream media are all over the place nowadays. If you place a mirror beside me, I guarantee I won't show in it.

...Though having now told you this, I'd appreciate it if you didn't immediately allow it to become common knowledge.

[Rogue's eyebrows rose again, and her attention was somewhat split. There was a vampire slayer inside her, you see, or at least the psychic remnant of one Melaka Fray, and she very much wanted to come to the forefront of Rogue's brain right now. There was only one good kind of lurk, and the talking kind wasn't--]

I reckon that depends on just how long you figure you'll be able to stay 'clean.' [It was an effort to speak past the voices in her mind.] I'd wake up feelin' pretty bad about myself if I walked away an' found out somethin' had happened because of it.

[The problem was, really, that she had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth, no way of knowing if he was even telling the truth about being a vampire, let alone how long he'd been 'clean.' But why would he bother to tell her at all if it wasn't true?]

I don't know.

[He gives her the most honest response he can. He's come this far.]

It's a constant struggle, and to be brought here - away from those I care about and who I rely on as beacons back to my sanity... there's always the chance that I may revert back to the man that I hate.

I suppose that's why I'm standing here, blurting out all of this to the first unfortunate stranger I've come across since I stopped believing this was a hallucination. Because someone should know, just in case.

[He's long since lost the smile, and he gives her a long look, once again taking in the way his hunger responds to her presence. He could drain her, if he wanted. The revulsion isn't the same as what he feels around the toxic blood of a werewolf. But he can also contain himself easier, and that's something.]

Will you kill me now?

[Honesty counted a long way for Rogue. She could respect someone who had enough guts to say 'I don't know' with confidence. But it was really his question which drew her up short-- Are you going to kill me now?

She could, if she needed to - probably. The way her psyches were, the way vampires tended to fight, all his exposed skin... his wings. Just the thought of it made her sick. But there was something about the way he said it, the measuring way he looked at her...

She couldn't tell if he'd welcome it, or if he planned on making it very difficult for her.

Either way, her answer was the same. Rogue met and held the vampire's gaze.]

You're not the only one around here strugglin' with something dark inside of them.

[Present company most certainly included.]

An' as a matter of principle, I'm against preemptive executions. You should get the same chance as any one of us here - we're all in the frying pan together. The ones who manage ta not harm the village are usually left in peace, unless they have someone followin' from their world with some kinda grudge. Any mysterious deaths, an' people can come back a week later with a tale to tell. And there are folks here who carry wooden stakes as part of their daily fashion requirements, you hear me? So - take that as a friendly head's up.

[The answer to her musings is: both. Part of him would welcome it, while the other half would forever make him difficult to kill.

And he was never completely free of that half.

He nods his head at first, but part of what she says causes him to stop, tilting it slightly.]

They come back? As... ghosts?

[Because he's had plenty of experience with them, and they don't usually take a week to form. They're standing over their empty shell at their moment of death.]

[...so maybe he hadn't read the guide? Rogue will make a note to refer him back to it.]

Nope. They come back. Death's a loop, here. Folks leave somethin' behind, but other than that they come back just as they came here. I know, it sounds crazy.

[But it's something she "experienced" first hand. She knows it's true.]

[He's read most of it, all of what he considered important with plans to read more once he found a better location to do it at. This must have one of the sections he'd skimmed over.]

A loop? [This is spoken barely above a whisper.] So... they don't stay dead?

If they don't stay dead, can they be turned? [The body is dead for a few hours before they awaken as a vampire, after all.]

That's right - they don't stay dead. [She barely held herself back from a sarcastic comment regarding prizes, mostly because she knew that it really was hard to believe.

But then, I'm talkin' to a vampire.]

And... I don't know.

[Well. She mostly knew that the answers was yes, but--]

Why do you wanna know that?

Because it would greatly lessen the risk of everything, pardon me, going to shit should I end up losing control.

Somehow I doubt any world could be quite that forgiving.

[Letting himself believe that he might not be a danger is, in itself, a dangerous line of thought. He can never become complacent. Especially not in a place this foreign.]

[Rogue weighed what he was saying carefully.]

You're right about that. [She said quietly.] People can still be turned here. But you might not find it so easy. Most of the people in this place aren't exactly normal.

Are there more like you, then?

[This is a positive thing.]

Or... more that are simply not human? [Something seems to cross his mind.] ...I'm going to have to find a place to stay. I'll need a roommate. I can't stay alone. How do I go about doing that?

[Rogue had to let out a dry laugh.] There's no one quite like me.

[...but. It was curious. He'd known she wasn't strictly human. And now he wanted to know if there were more like her? Rogue's eyebrows came together.] There are a couple of ways you could go 'bout finding a roommate, but first-- what do you mean, 'more like me?' Just what do you think I am?

[Hal mentally backpedals somewhat.]

You said you were a mutant, didn't you? As if it was something I should be aware of. If I may say so, you appear fairly normal aside from the hair, which I'd honestly assumed was a dye job.

[None of those things answer her question, but Rogue is willing to wait.]

Mutants, where I come from, have all different kinds of appearances and powers. The hair [she reaches up one gloved hand and tugs a white strand back behind her ear] is as natural as they come.

But that doesn't answer my question. You knew right away that there was somethin' different about me. What is it that you think I am?

[Okay, so she wasn't willing to wait long.]

I don't think you are anything.

[Hal frowns.]

Well you're something, clearly. But you get what I'm saying.

Vampires can only drink human blood. It's an addiction, and as such we're drawn strongly to it. If someone isn't human, or isn't entirely human, it's typically easy to tell upon closer inspection.

I could drain you. I mean, I won't, but I could. The draw just isn't as strong.

Edited 2013-05-28 00:19 (UTC)

[Rogue pictures herself explaining this conversation around the X-Men Family Dinner table. 'And after I reassured him that he could still probably turn everyone in the village, we discussed that how possible it was for him to drain me!'

She'd be committed, she was sure of it. What was her life?]

Oh sure, you probably could drain me. I mean, it's theoretically possible you could pull it off. [If her tone was any drier, the relative humidity in the place would probably start to decrease.] I just don't think you'd like it very much.

[She pauses for a moment, considering.] So you don't need blood to survive?

...Some might say we do.

But no. It's completely possible for us to live without blood. Just... incredibly difficult at times.

[Such as now, when he's lost and confused and without anyone familiar.]

It's the drug we're never free of, where withdrawal (more than the physical effects) means remembering. And for some that alone is simply unbearable.

All right.

[...right, so she was talking to a potentially volatile junkie. And blood was his drug of choice. Human blood. No wonder he'd immediately identified himself as clean.

All right. What do you know about junkies, Rogue? It's all self-control, it's a constant gnawing in the back of the mind, and they need a support system.

So he was ripped away from everything in a strange new world with no support system - a fact he was eminently aware of if his request for a roommate was any indication - and dumping all this on the first person he saw, like he said.

Great. She had to open her big mouth.

Something indefinable about her stance changed, her shoulders squaring and chin lifting slightly.]

The name's Rogue. I think you'd have a hard time drainin' me 'cause the whole time you'd be touching me, I'd be drainin' you right back. You wanna take a walk with me? We'll see about gettin' you some shoes.

Edited 2013-05-28 01:23 (UTC)

[He nods. He can walk and converse. It's a good thing to focus on. It'll help him figure things out. And as long as he keeps saying this to himself, it might actually be true.]

...Yes, that would be appreciated.

Although. I'm not quite sure what you mean when you say you'd drain me in return.

[Rogue started walking towards the Clothing Shop. As confident as she was, she was also careful to keep him from being strictly at her back. Wings were a weakness.

She held up her gloved hand.]

I can't have skin-to-skin contact with anyone, or else my powers activate. [So I know, really, what it's like to want something terribly and not be able to have it.] I absorb lives. Memories, powers, talents... your whole 'life-force.'

[It wasn't something she liked to talk about; she was only talking about it now because she wanted him to know that she wasn't simple prey, and she wanted him to know why.]

[That... sounded like a hellish existence, and that was saying something coming from his perspective. He's a bit lost on how to respond to that at first.]

Then... it's probably for the best that you go out of your way to avoid making skin contact with me. Moreso even than you might with some others. I'm quite certain you don't want all five hundred years of my memories.

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