Live and die, and then... [open]

[distant_one]

Who: D, his Left Hand, anyone
What: Open and closed prompts for general June catch all
When: early june and onward
Where: Various places

Content Warnings:: mention of blood drinking, apathy towards violence, casual disregard for the safety of others, violence, additional warnings to be added to closed prompts in comments



1. A stiff drink; any time in June, especially after the wilderness expedition returns; open

The end of the previous month had brought an end to D's excessive bloodthirst. Which meant that he could once again drink alcohol without experiencing an almost painful and intensely bitter disappointment at every drop that passed his lips and wasn't blood.

He was still not a very social person, but could be found in various drinking establishments around the city, slowly making his way through the wide variety of unfamiliar alcohol. His usual habit was to order the strongest drinks on offer and work his way down from there.

2. A bloodless cut; two weeks before the end of June; open

D wasn't one to get involved in the affairs of others. Drunken brawls simply weren't his concern, and even when one escalated immediately to a lethal level and had people fleeing, D only glanced over briefly to see why everyone was screaming and running.

This was more than just a drunken argument getting out of hand, but apparently a case of corruption. The corrupted man was apparently not satisfied yet either, as he was lunging at the next nearest person with a jagged piece of wood from a broken chair.

Though he was half way across the room, D was suddenly next to the man in the blink of an eye. Before the sound of his sword being drawn could completely fade from the air his first slash had cut through the weapon, turning it from sharp enough to stab to a blunt end. The second slash, even faster and seeming no more than an arc of silvery light passed through the man's torso before he could stab the newly blunt end of his improvised weapon into his target.

Despite the arc of the slash that should've cut the man in half, he didn't even stumble. The man jabbed his newly blunted weapon against his target, only to realize it was no longer suitable for stabbing. D is the next target of his ire, the remaining stub of chair leg swung at him like a club was caught in D's left hand.

It was a waiting game now, to see how long it would take a corrupted person to drop from the very unusual slash he'd made that hadn't broken the skin or spilled a single drop of blood.

3. Wildcard

Comments

[distant_one]

The fact that Luke was coherent enough to speak without prompting and hadn't simply lost consciousness or collapsed as a good sign. He was even mostly standing under his own power, though D was still holding him to keep him from collapsing.

"Much better, but you should lie down now." D's voice was a little rough still, and both his long pearly incisors and the red light shining from his eyes to illuminate the room showed his vampiric side still. He was careful not to try to command Luke, as he accidentally attempted earlier.

"Even with my blood kiss on your neck you're not a creature of the night, and that wasn't a small amount of blood you gave me."

[faithfulson]

Luke found himself staring at D, part of him absolutely entranced by his appearance. He should be afraid, he knew it; D was absolutely a predator like this, and even now he could sense he still wanted more, that even draining him dry would not have been enough to satiate his thirst. It made him wonder just how long he had been going without blood like this, or how much he had forced himself from taking too much. It couldn't have been healthy, and it just made him want to help D even more.

But even he knew that he had a limit, and even if they could pop back here after death, he wouldn't want to put the burden of dealing with that on anyone he loved here, so he held himself back.

"M'fine," he murmured, trying to take a step back. His body felt slow and sluggish, and even when he put his foot down, it didn't seem to want to cooperate with him. He tried to pretend it wasn't a big deal for all of a second, before he ended up leaning against D instead, trying to hide how embarrassed he was.

"...m'bed's thataway," he mumbled against his chest, pointing toward the room he was using as a bedroom.

[distant_one]

D must have taken more than he'd thought, or perhaps there was some blood loss already going on or some other issue. He'd have to find out later, though, because Luke needed to rest. He remained steady as Luke leaned against him and pointed towards one of the doors.

It was a short distance, so D simply lifted Luke into his arms as if he weighed nothing at all. He would have to stay and keep watch until he was sure Luke was awake enough to defend himself. If he would wake up enough to defend himself. There was a chance D's bite had done more than was apparent at the moment.

He settled Luke into the pile of bedding he was apparently using for sleep and went to lean against a wall and wait. Sleeping at night wasn't easy to begin with, and after biting and drinking blood it would be completely impossible.

[faithfulson]

Luke let out a faint noise as he was swept up into D's arms, reaching up to hold onto his shoulder -- more out of an instinctual need for comfort against his rapidly spinning head than anything else. He wasn't sure if D had taken too much, or if whatever side effects from his bite were making things worse, but he was worried just "sleeping it off" wasn't going to help much.

What was more... he could feel a pull coming from the Force, a faint feeling like if he just allowed it to guide him along into a meditative sleep, then everything would be fine. He had read about similar sensations in the scant few records he had been able to find; some kind of "healing trance" that helped a Jedi recover from injury. He'd never attempted it himself before, but with how he was feeling now, it didn't seem like he would have a choice in the matter.

A faint mumble escaped from him, trying to warn D, to let him know that whatever happened to him next probably was going to be weird and unusual, and there probably wasn't much he was going to be able to do to stop it until the Force decided he was alright. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, however, and even as he tried to make words come out of his throat, they just did not want to make it very far past that.

By the time D set him down on his bedding, he had drifted off, a faint sigh escaping from him as he drifted in the Force. Ah well... he was sure someone would be able to tell D what was going on, even if he couldn't.