(closed) parting is such sweet sorrow they say

[quickwhip]

Who: Trevor Belmont and others
When: middle of the month
Where: various spots
What: Trevor loses a bond and pretends everything is ok as you do when in denial
Warnings: Trevor being Trevor, cursing, drinking, possible vampire stuff, others tbd



starters in comments.

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[quickwhip]

[ A drink is damn well what he needs... over the course of a few nights probably.

He sees the way Hector cants his head, revealing the soft curve of his neck to him and the vampire within him perks at the thought. But the sadness that runs through his veins is a little bit stronger than his hunger at the moment and so Trevor just sighs again as he stands there, cloak pulled around him a little more. ]

You're not going to let me stay a moping vampire bastard, are you? Don't you know that's their thing?

[ Or maybe Hector's concerned Trevor might pull what Dracula did with his sorrow and just stop drinking. ]

[petcromancer]

[So even the siren song of blood isn't enough to tempt Trevor to sit back down, huh? Hector straightens his head. He just told Trevor he's not desperate, yet here he is.]

You don't want to become another one of them. Trust me.

[He pushes himself off of the couch and follows after Trevor, wrapped up in his cloak like it's a security blanket. Hector wasn't very tactile back on Earth, but fauns crave touch, and he's got the instincts of a flocking animal now. He wraps his arms around Trevor and just holds him there for a moment.]

You're not alone. That's a risk, but it's one you've already taken. So if you refuse the rewards of your connections now, that's really fucking stupid, Belmont. It's like... [he wants to say 'raising up a pet only to bury them', but that's not a universally applicable comparison, huh?]...like paying for a beer and pouring it on the ground.

[He withdraws his arms from around the solid trunk of Trevor's body. Maybe Hector's not the one who can give Trevor the comfort he needs, but if he can at least push him in that direction, that's something.]

[quickwhip]

[ Oh. Hector... is embracing him... and they're not even naked. Hmm. He doesn't mind. If he did, he'd have shrugged the faun off or make some sort of face off to the side. Instead, he just stands there and allows blue eyes to gently drop down to the top of his head before looking down to the cat which is still very much around them. ]

That... is a bloody waste, yes.

[ Because he may be hella moody right now but he can't ignore how much of a tragic waste that would be for any fool to purposefully do. But with looking down to Hector a little better then, he lets pale fingers come up to softly drop down to the crown of his head and gingerly card them through strands of hair for just a moment or two. ]

Thanks...

[petcromancer]

[The thing that gets through to Trevor Belmont: a metaphor about beer. Of course.

Hector's head leans against Trevor's shoulder while his hair is stroked. He's weak for petting, he can't help it.]

You'll be alright.

[quickwhip]

Yeah.

[ Does he believe it? May...be. He's not too sure. For the moment? He just won't really think about it, see how things go, all that bullshit. So as fingers gently slip away from the faun's head, he hums a little then before he gives another glance down to the cat. ]

I'll think about the cat.

[petcromancer]

[Hector backs away and sits back down on the couch. He wonders what it would be like if they really were to bond, if he'd understand more about what Trevor was thinking or feeling behind those blue eyes.]

Alright. If you decide you want to try it out, you know where to find him.

[That's all he can do for now.]

[quickwhip]

[ You'd be feeling all his pain and anger at the moment, Hector. Something his other two Bonded have to deal with even when he went talk about it really. But with Hector on the couch and the cat... doing cat things, he figures he might as well take his leave then. Go sulk up a tree or something, try to... navigate through this bullshit.

Boots scuff against the flooring as he goes but he comes to stop in front of Hector on the couch and, letting pale fingers brush through his hair again, he leans down to tip Hector's head back and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. ]

I do. Thanks.

[petcromancer]

[Hector lets Trevor tilt his face for kissing. Like the hand-holding back at the brothel, the brush of cold lips against his own send his pulse racing disproportionate to what the actual contact could justify.

He runs his hands quickly down Trevor's arms, smoothing the fabric of the cloak that envelops him. There's probably no need for Trevor to wear the cloak anymore, he thinks, except for theatrics. He'll be cold regardless, unless someone else warms him up.]

Good night, Belmont. Be somewhere safe by dawn. [There's no stopping Trevor from sulking if he wants to, but hopefully he'll at least be safe about it.]