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Entry tags:
[ open ] i am no one's blessing
Who: Qrow Branwen & you!
When: First full moon of Mareuer
Where: Aefenglom
What: Baby's first bloodlust
Warnings: Blood, emetophobia, references to alcoholism, potential violence
i. around 8 pm, bar
[It's on his way in from the Wilde, not long after the last tinges of sunset fade, that he first feels it.
There's a strange discomfort in his stomach, the kind where you're not sure if you're hungry or nauseous. It's dismissed outright, at first; it's not been that long since he ate, and he's not sure if he wants to test the "or nauseous" part until he's alone inside the house he's claimed here. It's easily ignored at first, anyway, but it gets worse the more he walks. He doesn't relish the idea of being sick before he gets home, so...most stores are closed by now, but the bars should be open, especially with Eostre going on right now. Some seltzer water might help; it's not like the barkeepers don't know him well enough to forgive the lack of revenue one night.
By the time he reaches the bar, the discomfort has morphed into outright pain and he sits doubled over against the bar, clutching onto a glass as he struggles not to make a noise out of distress. What's happening to him? The fangs weren't a pleasant experience, sure, but he feels like his body wants to tear itself apart from the inside, this time. Anyone who so much as comes close gets an extremely pissy glare leveled at them.]
What?
ii. 10:30 PM aefenglom streets [cw: blood, emetophobia]
[The night only gets worse from there. A woman a few seats away, very cheerfully drunk, gestures a little too wildly with a glass in her hand, and it smashes on the ground. (How unfortunate, his mind helpfully supplies. It's not his fault, but maybe it is, maybe it's still there even though he can't feel it anymore, isn't that possible?) She reaches down to pick up the broken glass even though the barkeeper tells her not to, and cuts her hand on the glass. And then--
It's not ferality, not yet, but Qrow experiences something akin to a blackout for a few seconds as the smell of blood hits the air, and before he knows it he's slammed her up against a wall, fangs bared against the open wound in her hand, prepared to rip it open and take the sustenance instead before he remembers where he is and stumbles backwards. All but crawls on his hands and knees to get away before he gathers himself enough to run, pain forgotten for the moment in sheer horrified adrenaline. That's what the fangs are for. He's supposed to hurt people, to tear them apart to nourish himself and ....
Abruptly, he crumples to his knees and retches, dry heaves bringing up nothing but water and stomach acid. He can't do this. He can't he can't he can't he can't--fuck, he was so stupid to think his curse had ever left him for a minute. Here it is personified in the truest form of his lifelong insecurities, isn't it? Twisting him into a Monster that needs to hurt others to exist. Unfortunate.
--Footsteps around the corner get a howl of distress, and he looks at whoever it is with an almost maddened terror in his eyes.]
No! Get away from me! Run!
iii. 1:45 AM, Closed to Sasuke
[Every encounter up to now has ended, eventually, with him taking off at a run. He's kept himself from hurting anyone yet, but with each show of willpower his stamina is fading. By the time he runs into Sasuke, he's visibly shaking from the effort. He makes a panicked noise in his throat when he makes eye contact, like he can sense the blood still pumping in Sasuke's veins for the time being, and drives his fangs right into his own hand because he cannot live with himself if he harms a child in this condition.
He slides down against a wall, landing roughly on the cobbled street, and half-wheezes, muffled, through his hand--]
L...eave. Don't get--closer.
When: First full moon of Mareuer
Where: Aefenglom
What: Baby's first bloodlust
Warnings: Blood, emetophobia, references to alcoholism, potential violence
i. around 8 pm, bar
[It's on his way in from the Wilde, not long after the last tinges of sunset fade, that he first feels it.
There's a strange discomfort in his stomach, the kind where you're not sure if you're hungry or nauseous. It's dismissed outright, at first; it's not been that long since he ate, and he's not sure if he wants to test the "or nauseous" part until he's alone inside the house he's claimed here. It's easily ignored at first, anyway, but it gets worse the more he walks. He doesn't relish the idea of being sick before he gets home, so...most stores are closed by now, but the bars should be open, especially with Eostre going on right now. Some seltzer water might help; it's not like the barkeepers don't know him well enough to forgive the lack of revenue one night.
By the time he reaches the bar, the discomfort has morphed into outright pain and he sits doubled over against the bar, clutching onto a glass as he struggles not to make a noise out of distress. What's happening to him? The fangs weren't a pleasant experience, sure, but he feels like his body wants to tear itself apart from the inside, this time. Anyone who so much as comes close gets an extremely pissy glare leveled at them.]
What?
ii. 10:30 PM aefenglom streets [cw: blood, emetophobia]
[The night only gets worse from there. A woman a few seats away, very cheerfully drunk, gestures a little too wildly with a glass in her hand, and it smashes on the ground. (How unfortunate, his mind helpfully supplies. It's not his fault, but maybe it is, maybe it's still there even though he can't feel it anymore, isn't that possible?) She reaches down to pick up the broken glass even though the barkeeper tells her not to, and cuts her hand on the glass. And then--
It's not ferality, not yet, but Qrow experiences something akin to a blackout for a few seconds as the smell of blood hits the air, and before he knows it he's slammed her up against a wall, fangs bared against the open wound in her hand, prepared to rip it open and take the sustenance instead before he remembers where he is and stumbles backwards. All but crawls on his hands and knees to get away before he gathers himself enough to run, pain forgotten for the moment in sheer horrified adrenaline. That's what the fangs are for. He's supposed to hurt people, to tear them apart to nourish himself and ....
Abruptly, he crumples to his knees and retches, dry heaves bringing up nothing but water and stomach acid. He can't do this. He can't he can't he can't he can't--fuck, he was so stupid to think his curse had ever left him for a minute. Here it is personified in the truest form of his lifelong insecurities, isn't it? Twisting him into a Monster that needs to hurt others to exist. Unfortunate.
--Footsteps around the corner get a howl of distress, and he looks at whoever it is with an almost maddened terror in his eyes.]
No! Get away from me! Run!
iii. 1:45 AM, Closed to Sasuke
[Every encounter up to now has ended, eventually, with him taking off at a run. He's kept himself from hurting anyone yet, but with each show of willpower his stamina is fading. By the time he runs into Sasuke, he's visibly shaking from the effort. He makes a panicked noise in his throat when he makes eye contact, like he can sense the blood still pumping in Sasuke's veins for the time being, and drives his fangs right into his own hand because he cannot live with himself if he harms a child in this condition.
He slides down against a wall, landing roughly on the cobbled street, and half-wheezes, muffled, through his hand--]
L...eave. Don't get--closer.
iii I ARRIVE
The cold sweat has just sunken in during the first leg of his restless late night walk when he runs into Qrow, exhaling roughly at the sight. ]
Qrow? [ He himself isn't a man prone to leaving a problem like this to resolve itself, though he knows better than to approach. ]
... tell me what you're feeling.
hewwo
The pain he could tolerate, at least, if it didn't come with the compulsions. Tear, rip, drink, drain....he screws his eyes shut, digging the nails of his other hand into his palm.]
Go....away. I can't...
[He bites deeper into his hand, trying to focus on that pain instead of every other, but the agony inside his body only sharpens and intensifies the more Sasuke stands there. He suppresses a cry of pain before it can escape, coming out instead as a deep, gutteral groan.]
no subject
Qrow clearly knows the same. ]
You can. The way we address this is that you talk to me. [ What kind of monster is he? That's what he needs to know first, and the fangs are one hint he's reluctant to accept. ]
What are you feeling?
no subject
His back arches with another half-muffled groan, breathing labored through a mouth he refuses to allow open for more than a moment at a time.]
You'll--get--hurt--
[He grinds out, each word shot through with agony. But more than that, there's a certain fear and desperation to his words, one that's made plain with the next he forces through--]
Please...
no subject
He'd begged Jonas to leave, Stiles, Riku... people who had been around him not just when his craving for blood had been at its height but people that had encountered him when he was impacted by the rage of ghosts out near the new outpost. A danger to others, if not necessarily to himself.
And yet– ]
I can't go, not when you could run into someone more vulnerable. Tell if what you're feeling is hunger or anger, Qrow, now. So we can deal with it.
no subject
...The kids held their own at Haven, at the Battle of Beacon. This kid's probably more used to violence than them, even, based on the things he's said. Qrow sighs, tired.]
Little of both, right now.
[He really wishes you'd fucking leave and let him handle it, Sasuke!!! Not that he's handling it well but that's how Qrow rolls, just barely managing to tape himself together into some semblance (lol) of function from day to day and tying it up in a bow of irreverence and Don't Give A Fuck to disguise how many fucks he actually gives all the time.]
....Hunger.
no subject
[ Well, that contextualizes the bite to his hand and the sharp teeth that caused it, then. Qrow is definitely experiencing the fledgling symptoms of vampirism, and as frustrating as that is it's also good to know it's something Sasuke has some idea of how to deal with. But at what cost? ]
This will pass if you drink blood. [ Never let it be said that he's a vague man who likes to titillate his audience; he gets right to it. ] Qrow, you need to get up. We should move into the alleyway, off this main road.
cw: reference to addiction
[Another stab of pain tears through his body and he writhes on the ground for a moment, breathing hard.]
...figured that much.
[He realized what his body wanted the moment he nearly attacked that woman. And he knows what it means, to crave something this desperately and not give into it. It'll get worse before it gets better, and in this case, it probably won't get better at all even if he didn't give in this time. But he can't. He's spent his whole life causing danger and harm to people just by existing and right now as much as his body is wracked with agony, he can't bear the mental toll of harming someone on purpose for personal benefit.
It's supposed to be the worst on the full moon, right? Maybe the pain will ease in the morning and he'll be able to think straight long enough to find a solution. It can't be more than a few more hours, right?]
...Hhhh if. If I move from here, I'll probably hurt you.
[Focusing on the pain itself isn't really a solution, but it distracts from the obvious solution continuing to stand bare feet away. The ground is a disadvantageous position for him. If he tries anything, Sasuke can take him down.]
no subject
If you don't you'll hurt someone else less capable of defending themselves. You think you can stay here all night and fight it?
Get up, before I drag you. I'm not letting you hurt yourself and someone else.
[ Because for Qrow to attack someone defenseless would be for Qrow to suffer as well. How well Sasuke knows that, too. ]
no subject
[He isn't sure he can make it to morning, but by the gods he'd been trying to give it his best damn shot. Up until now, just running away from people was enough, but he's worn out and in pain and he's afraid of what happens if he tries to push himself further. He's stuck on the idea that he just has to endure it a little longer. If Sasuke would just leave, he could catch his breath. If he could just be alone for five minutes.
It's the threat that gets to him, though. His eyes fly open, those uncanny reds dull and glazed but wide with alarm.]
No! Don't get close--
[He doesn't have the strength to argue further, forced to struggle to his feet. Unfortunately, he doesn't make it all the way to the alley, collapsing again at the mouth of it.]
no subject
I'm not listening to you when you're arguing against your interests.
Listen to me– I can offer you blood. My blood, securely, so you can regain control. It won't harm me. [ Dark eyes focus in on red, fighting the agitation that continues to bubble up inside of him. It's just one more thing. ]
cw for reference to suicidal ideation
[That's...quite a bit more honest than he might usually be if he weren't in this state. There's signs of it, of course; Sasuke might have noticed some of them on that expedition into the Wilde--the alcoholism, the self-destructive tendencies, the habit toward offering assistance and then distancing himself again. But he never says it quite so plain, rarely even in touch with himself enough to be aware of it. He tends to prefer not to spend much time with his thoughts, after all.
Sasuke offers him his blood directly and he feels the panic crawling up his spine, because he's standing too close, and Qrow can't think from how much he wants it (needs it) and he's so scared. Logically, Sasuke's right. But all that he hears is whispers of cursed and the knowledge that he'll never, ever be anything but a burden, that his existence will continue to cause people pain as long as it persists burns inside him like fire, right alongside the hunger.]
I can't. I just...I can't.
[He shakes his head, miserable. With his Semblance, he never had a choice. It was just something that happened. He felt guilty enough being around people in Remnant. Actively leeching off people to preserve himself just makes him want to fucking die here and now. It's hard not to feel like he'd deserve it.
(The part of him that knows he needs to get back to the kids, to Ozpin and the war, is forgotten right now, in the face of this. It's just too much)]
no subject
[ He's noticed.
He's noticed because he recognizes the patterns of behavior as intimately familiar even if Qrow comes across as more sociable. Qrow helps others at the expense of himself, and that in itself is an interest. The guilt he'll feel from failing to achieve those goals, whether they're selfishly motivated – and if they're related to self-loathing, Sasuke reminds himself, they are – or not, will trump everything else. ]
You can, because this is bigger than you. I told you already I'm not going to allow you to hurt anyone else instead, for their sake and yours. I can force you or you can do it willingly. Now, move into the alley so that we don't have an audience.
Do I need to lift you?
1/2
Or maybe if you leave me alone and let me handle things, I won't have to hurt anyone at all! Don't you get it? I'm used to being dangerous! I could manage if I could just get ten seconds away from your blood to think--
[He's cut off mid-rant. Sasuke, as a fellow vampire, will easily be able to discern the source: an injured Wilder, injuries wrapped in a makeshift bandage until they can get to the Coven for treatment. And where before he'd attacked that woman at the first hint of spilled blood, a different instinct takes over this time. He finds his energy from somewhere, stumbles to his feet and runs, past Sasuke and right into the alleyway.]
no subject
Sasuke hasn't left. He's still here, and Qrow's guilt doesn't have any more time to resist, and it doesn't have time to regret yelling at him just now. He looks Sasuke right in the eye, ignoring the rush of static in his ears from the spilled blood right around the corner.]
Help me. Hurry.
no subject
Against the wall, quickly. [ Sasuke is quick to follow him into the mouth of that alley, making sure they're deep enough within it to be able to avail themselves of shadows. Unseen, unlikely to draw very unnecessary attention. He takes a deep breath then, steeling his own nerves before he's lifting his arm.
Budding fangs pierce his own wrist so that Qrow won't have to do it himself, ensuring the cut is shallow enough to prevent serious damage before he's raising it within his line of sight. ]
I'll stop you if you go too far. For now, I can handle it. When you calm down you can seek out something else. [ Blood from any of the bars that offer it, an animal, anything. ]
no subject
He takes Sasuke's wrist carefully, squashing any lingering urges to rip and tear as he brings it to his mouth, and finally begins to feed. He nearly gags during the process, more than once, but ultimately the beast inside him is too desperate to reject any of the food it's finally being offered. The pain finally starts to abate; Qrow's muscles slowly ease from being pulled taut for so long, his breathing starts to slow and calm. And there's a temptation to keep going, not to remove himself from what's easing his discomforts just like he prefers to keep the brunt of his darkest anxieties and miseries away with alcohol, but he pulls back as soon as he feels remotely able, though Sasuke may feel a trace of wetness against his arm that's not blood when he does; Qrow's turned aside, eyes blocked from view too fast to be able to check.
When he finally speaks, his voice is shaky, but not with the same sort of tortured desperation as before.]
...Thanks.
[He stares back out toward the main street silently for a few moments. The Wilder is gone. It's safe to leave.]
Are you okay?
[Sasuke said he'd stop him if he went too far, but he has to check before he escapes out into the night with his shame and misery. Has to be responsible for what he was forced to do, if nothing else.]
no subject
At first he begins to feel cold in his extremities. A slow but steady loss of heat that seeps from him and leaves him chilled to the bone, as if all the layers of clothing in the world would still fail to shield him from a gust of wind. Next comes the slight dizziness that he'd expected most. Light-headedness. Something he's experienced countless times from countless injuries, almost all far more severe than what he's experiencing now. What he didn't expect? Was the third effect, a slow but steady increase in the pain he's feeling all through his body.
His organs tighten as if dehydrated, kidneys and intestines aching while his breaths draw shorter and shorter. Not life-threatening... but a reminder of just what's to come. ]
I'm fine, [ he manages, though his forehead presses to the wall of the building as he steadies his breaths and checks his arm. Fine. He is fine. ] There's a vampire bar two streets down, to the west. Can you make it there without a scene? If you need more.
no subject
It had to be done, he tries to tell himself, even as he wants to take off at a run and never show his face to Sasuke ever again. And then he mentions, of all things, a fucking vampire bar. He lets out a sharp noise, a bitter scoff that's not quite a laugh, because for all the goddamn bars he's been to since he showed up here, all the time he's spent in them, he missed that one? He didn't know until now, of course; fangs could've meant anything, but if he'd known it was there...
There's an irrational anger, too, at Sasuke for not telling him before it got to this point, though he realizes midway through that thought that he would've resisted that, too. Ugh. He just...needs to not be here anymore. He's stable enough to hole up at home and not speak to anyone for the rest of the night. The rest will be handled tomorrow.]
...Yeah, I'm good.
[He mutters one last thing after that, something that's hard to parse but sounds vaguely apologetic, before he takes off, not even looking back as he does. If he was lucky, he'd never cross paths with Sasuke again, but the odds never have been in his favor.]
ii
Pointed ears prick up, just slightly, to the sound of retching as he walks the city streets that night. Nothing but a drunk, no doubt, but he moves to investigate regardless - his nature of wanting to offer help to anyone who might need it is something that hasn't yet been dulled.
His steps are light, but evidently not light enough to go unnoticed. Or perhaps it was his shadow, preceding him in a wavering, wobbling shape? He meets those terrified eyes, and lightly rests his hand against the pommel of his slim sword.]
Mm. [Interesting. The terror which has gripped his own heart and mind since his arrival here takes form in front of him, it seems. Red Wine sniffs. Listens. Hears nothing.]
I don't believe I have anything to fear from you.
no subject
He shakes his head vigorously, sort of crawls backward, too out of sorts to remember how to get back to his feet and run away properly. The sword doesn't scare him, even though he ran out of the restaurant without his own. It's a little bit of a relief, really, that he'd probably be run through if he couldn't hold himself back, but he still doesn't want this. He doesn't want to hurt this stranger.]
Just leave me alone. I don't want to hurt you.
[Regardless of what the danger to his life might be, it's still a risk he doesn't want to take.]
no subject
And you won't. [Red Wine replies quietly, letting his hand slip from the sword. He crouches, bright red eyes focused on the man, and he balances his weight carefully on the balls of his feet to keep himself in place.]
I'd like to help you. Can you tell me what's wrong?
i
does anyone now?
it looks european and he's allowed inside without a fuss. jonas is about three beers deep, resting and enjoying some alone time, when he spots qrow with his head bowed. the stare shifts into an activate attempt to catch his attention, leaning back a little off his stool to aim at him a smile—incidentally, qrow isn't up for company.)
Oh, uh. Nothing, man... thought I'd say "hi," ask how you were doing. (a pregnant pause, fingers worrying intricate details carved into his pewter stein.) Are you alright, or– I can leave you alone, if you'd like.
no subject
I'm not exactly doing great--
[Is snapped out, before even Qrow realizes that was too far. There's being an asshole and then there's bitching out a teenager for being friendly while he feels unwell. Damn, but this is the worst part of being the adult in an interaction.]
....Think it's a, a moon thing.
[That's about all the olive branch he has the bandwidth to offer before a fresh wave of pain cuts him off and his eyes squeeze shut as he sags against the bar again, breathing hard.]
no subject
they have strong wards on the doors to the backrooms. if he needs to stake it out and stay there, he's welcome to.
qrow, on the other hand, is getting looks. jonas, not knowing what to do to remedy the situation, finds himself reaching out slowly. slowly, so as to make his presence known before one hand finds the counter beside the man who saved his life in the woods, keen on helping out. the other palm settles featherlight, high on his back. tentative, but warm.)
Can I do anything? Or like, call someone for you? (murmured, voice rougher when lower.)
no subject
He sips at the water slowly, trying to soothe the freshly white-hot agony in his nerves before he succumbs to screaming from it.]
D-don’t ... stand so close ....
[He’s said that to people before, but it was usually for a very different reason. Right now, he doesn’t understand what’s happening, or just how much risk is involved for anyone around him, but he is absolutely terrified of finding out.]
Please.
no subject
(he's quickly realizing that there's not much he can do in this situation but gawk like an idiot at him, so he turns his face away and wracks his brain for some kind of... salve to put on the situation. if they can't fix it, they can try to make him comfortable at the very least.)
I'm just gonna' sit here and talk to you, okay? Or, if you want me to shut up and leave, I'll go. (completely understandable either way.) You don't have to be alone through this, though—the bartender's an empathetic guy, I'm sure he'll help out if you need anything specific.
no subject
I don't....know what I need.
[At first he'd felt too sick for alcohol but he's slowly starting to lean toward the idea of getting blackout drunk so everything stops hurting? Maybe if it gets worse.]
What do you want to talk about?
no subject
(it's chance that brought him to the tavern at the same time as qrow, but he won't let him suffer through this alone unless he says it.)
Quests you've done, people you've met, places you've gone to see... or you favourite things, things that make you feel good. Even if they're small, or insignificant.
no subject
It takes him an embarrassingly long time to come up with anything at all.]
Eostre was nice, I guess.
[Mostly because of the uh, cheap alcohol ahahahah. God, he's terrible at talking about himself. Remnant was easier, back in the woods, but he's feeling too vulnerable and fucked up to really want to talk about that, either.]
I've gone back out in the Wilde sometimes. [He shrugs a little.] For the Wilders, or things like the flowers from the crying tree or dealing with the weird grass. It's the most familiar for me.
[He's not made any new friends since the Outpost, are you kidding. He's been going this whole thing alone for the most part. Part lifelong habit, part stubborn denial that he's trapped indefinitely without any of the people he loves and no immediately obvious means toward getting back to them. Hell, even the looming specter of having to Bond has gone willfully ignored.]
ii
Ozymandias had done well to ensure she didn't shift, even if she still feels... her bones tighten and ache, as if the dragon inside of her wanted to rip herself open. It was something she fought with, but she always did survive, didn't she? A small flower keeps ferality low — perhaps it was fortune, perhaps it was medicine... it was hard to say. The flowers bundle in a weakened neckless, her own Lady Edre from the farm insistent this old wive's tale worked.
The bar was still active, people filtering in and out — it isn't until she literally steps into the doorway that she hears a scream blood-curdling and cold. It sends the patrons into a panic, sends them running and the city guards approaching.
It was — well, a familiar face in which she sees in a panic state.
He tells her to run and she stumbles back — glimpses of the man's assistance all but fresh on her mind. Two and two together was offered, enough for her to know that something was wrong. Get him out, get him to a doctor — or... or just think. She acts on fight or flight reflex, that gentle heart bleeding for monsters without control. ]
This way! [ She motions for him, readily pulling off the flowers. ] Ser, you must follow me!
no subject
He's hyperventilating before he even knows it, lost in the throes of a bloodlust-fueled panic attack, still slowly shaking his head as he crawls backward. He could hurt her. He could kill her. He would never be able to live with himself if he--]