middaeg | [OPEN]

Entry tags:

[OPEN]

Who: Hubert and open; some close prompts
When: Throughout Juril
Where: Aefenglom, Dorchacht, Outpost, Underground
What: Open event and quest prompts + closed prompts
Warnings: added as needed

Juril 5th - The Eclipse

[Hubert normally avoided the Full Moons. That he would walk the streets in the dead of night, particularly as the unusual revelry set upon the city marked something as odd.]

[And not only that, but gone was his overly stuff and prim appearance. No cloak, no coat, no gloves, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and (gasp) the button of his collar undone. And if one looked closely, a little face peered warily out from his undone collar, skittishly observing the impromptu songs and laughter (and the occasion fight) of the Eclipse-drunk townfolk.]

[Hubert himself seemed relatively together, if... uncharacteristically relaxed as he bounces a small vial of glimmering powder in his palm, his other hand toting a small paper-wrapped parcel. And any time a citizen tried to engage with him, a piercing shriek soon followed as a small black scorpion seemed to land on their shoulder out of nowhere. Hubert only keeps walking as they flailed about, laughing to himself.]

Wonderous Things - Dorchacht - pre-midmonth event

[He's only here to do a job. Harvesting the Whispering Cloud reeds isn't hard. The Witch keeps to himself as the reeds talk, collecting them with a hand sickle, seemingly indifferent to their chatter.]

(I hear he's a killer. That one like scaring people. He doesn't want people to know he cares. Did you know that one put down his old man?)

[There's only one that makes Hubert stiffen suddenly.]

(Wait until you hear he's afraid of heights.)

Suspicious Activity - Aefenglom - pre-midmonth event

[He's tall. He's sinister. He wears entirely too much black. He skulks around at all times of night. And thanks to the scattered early thunderstorms, he's sporting a hooded cloak. If you want to mistake Hubert for one of the purity cultists, go ahead!]

Fire pixies - Aefenglom - 18th-22nd

[A cool, thick fog settles over patches of the residential areas at times.]

[It's only conjured, and still burns off quicker than it would otherwise, but it provides brief relief, buys more time for plants and fire-prone buildings, and some protection for daylight sensitive Monsters. And it makes the unwanted pests stand out like bright lanterns as their light catches on the mist.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She snaps to attention, her thoughts broken by his words and the weight pressing down in the bond.

"Yes, Hubert?" she asks, distracted and still considering if she could make the flight safely. "Have you an idea?"

"You know my objections," he starts, keeping eye contact. "And my concerns."

Intent and permission mattered so much to the magical forces that governed this world. Hubert was familiar with it, given how much he supplemented his open casting with blood. Saying this aloud was important.

"Safeguarding your mind is as important to me as your life. Should you need it, you are free to take from me. You always will be."

"Hubert...?"

She blinks, confused. Was he suggesting this, really? They had nixed this idea almost the moment they had arrived. This was a change.

"...Are you absolutely certain?"

"It is our safest option."

Hubert shakes his head slightly, not in denial but more as a gesture of frustration. His voice remains level, even if his concern for her hasn't dimmed any in the Bond.

"You could attempt the journey back by flight and risk being thrown off course by the storm and find yourself deeper in the Wilde, or be battered by the winds, or encounter more of the frost creatures. I could accompany you, and while my horse would conserve your energy, the journey would be slower for the snowdrifts. No matter how you arrive at the outpost, it's a less than ideal state, and we'd still need to source you blood. The outpost may not have a reserve, and there is no guarantee a willing donor would be a Monster.

"We could remain, wait out the blizzard while you conserve your energy, but again at a loss of indeterminate time, and we would contend with the same issues we are now with you in a worse state. I suppose we could thaw the blood, but I doubt it would be viable; as I once told you extreme heat will deteriorate it, so will extreme cold."

Hubert crosses his arms. "The fact of the matter remains in all scenarios. You must recover, and time is not a luxury we have if we want to ensure your control. It isn't without risks—my original concerns still stand—but where we are, it poses the least risk. ...And if the Coven is to be believed, a willing and Bonded Witch poses even less danger, though not exempt from it."

Logical, through and through.

"I..."

Edelgard starts to protest his initial statement but stops, letting him get it all out. She can feel the wheels turning in his mind, and they run through the same motions in her own. It isn't difficult to come to this conclusion, either. It is the most logical, and she does trust him to stop her before she goes overboard.

The only concern, then, is their emotional preparedness. Or rather her own. It will mean a bit of pain. At first.

"...When you put it that way, there really is no arguing against the point. So, how...would you like to do this? Sitting?"

It's here that Hubert hesitates.

"I... was going to ask you for your input on that. I don't know the best way to go about it. Sitting does seem a start."

Their heights would make it incredibly difficult, otherwise. No sense in wasting time. Hubert moves to the back wall furthest from the door, settling against it; the piercing chill from the stone was present even though his winter clothing. The curled golems shuffle closer, flanking some feet away.

His hands raise to the high fur-lined collar of his coat, and stop to hover.

"How... much space will you need?"

Edelgard's eyes focus, narrowing slightly as she considers all of this. It's not a thing she'd thought about before outside of idle considerations when she was hungry. But, well, it was a reality now. A necessity.

"Not much. Just roll down your collar to bare the curve of the neck. That should be enough. Unless you'd prefer I went for your wrist."

She hasn't actively fed on anyone willing before, but she's seen other vampires go for the wrist. She'll take what she can get, and what's most comfortable for him.

He holds his silence as his mind flickers through the benefits and drawbacks of both. Hubert was too keenly aware of the many vulnerabilities of the neck to be truly comfortable with anyone touching his, but...

"I would prefer to keep both of my hands free."

Just in case. Not that Edelgard couldn't easily pin his arms if she lost control, but it gave him slightly more of a chance in that scenario than starting with one in her grasp.

He begins to button his collar, but it takes a while between the heavy winter coat, the scarf stuffed underneath, and the collar of his shirt. Hubert shivers a little as the bitter air rushes in, despite his best efforts not to.

"Of course."

Edelgard moves, coming closer as he pulls down his coat, her lips pursed in a pensive expression. She's hurting, feeling it keenly, and she's growing...hungry...as her sustenance leaks out.

Crouching down onto her knees next to him, she nods.

"Turn this way. So that I'm at your back. That will make it easier. And take my hands. Give me a shock with a spell if I lose myself."

He can feel it in their link, that creeping hunger and predator's interest. It was his own instinct to be wary in turn; it didn't matter how much he trusted Edelgard and believed in her strength. There was something else to her now, something alien to the both of them.

She was predator, and he prey. It was as simple as that.

Hubert complies, turning his back to her and scooting closer. With both of them in place, the golems shuffle in a few more inches as well. His gloved palms find the backs of her hands, settling over the top of hers, as he tilts his head to the side.

Instinctual wariness was as far as his concern went. He still trusted her, and this was still his own free will. Flinching before a predator, showing fear, only encouraged their hunt.

Hubert closes his eyes, relaxing the best he could while his body was busy fighting the cold.

Edelgard curls her fingers around his, trusting him to stop her.

"Okay. Here we go."

She settles in, moving closer, studying his skin and feeling the pulse of his heart in her sensitive ears. It beats with a heavy thudding to her, no matter how calm he is, and the bond helps steady her. The solid belief that he would stop her and his trust...that was a rock to her.

So, she brings her lips to the spot and gives it a little lick with her tongue.

"...To dull the pain," she says, before finally taking a slow bite from the soft flesh. It shouldn't hurt, save the pinprick nip of her teeth for just a moment, and if what she's heard is true he'll get some sort of pleasant sensation. She, on the other hand, gets the coppery taste of life welling up against her teeth, and she immediately sighs, closing her eyes as she carefully begins to feed.

The lick makes him shudder, unexpected as it was, the cold air all the more intense for it.

But it does as advertised. There's more a pushing sensation than anything else, like an uncomfortably firm pressure where her teeth land. And slowly the sensation starts to change and spread. His own gasp follows her sigh moments after as uncomfortable pressure gives way to some kind of mild bliss.

It's dangerous, a part of his mind recognizes. Hubert tries to remain present, but the tension always in his body, even seemingly in his sleep, starts to slip away unbidden and his weight melts back against Edelgard. A clever way to lower prey's guard, to distract from the very real danger. He tries to focus on other things, but suddenly, the cold that had been bothering him didn't seem nearly as important.

Edelgard can feel the familiar tang of blood passing into her mouth, as well as the impulses that scream at her to take more. She stamps on that, hard, imposing her will upon the hunger...the drive. She's not here to feast, she's here to complete a mission, and this is a necessity, nothing more.

But the soft warm sensation of another person's skin beneath her lips begins to lull her into a sense of complacency. The feeling of the Witchblood beginning to course through her, knitting the damage up, is one part intoxicating and one part unsettling. There's so much energy there, and she wants more.

For an instant her grip tightens, fingers locking into a rictus, but only for a heartbeat. Just as suddenly as she'd squeezed she realizes what she was doing and eases up...and with draws her lips. Blood dribbles down her chin, but she licks the two puncture wounds quickly, the vampiric magic healing them up and leaving nothing more than red smears on his skin.

She sinks back onto her backside, blowing out a breath, eyes casting about.

"...That...was intense."

Hubert slumps backwards against Edelgard's chest as she pulls away, not yet ready to support himself between his lax muscles and dulled reflexes. He mumbles an apology in the process.

And a part of him, unbidden, thinks its such a shame that she stopped.

Distantly, Hubert's aware that this was the entire trap. It wasn't a hunt as a wolf would chase a deer, but closer to a carnivorous plant drawing in the unwary with enticing scents. He was almost impressed by how effective this—venom? Vampiric magic? Whatever it is—was. It took every effort Hubert could muster to care in that singular moment when Edelgard's grip had seized.

"Please pardon me," he mutters. "I need a moment." The fog was clearing from his mind now that the bite was through, if slowly. He likely could move if he tried, but he was still reeling.

"How... do you feel?"

"Of course."

Edelgard fishes around in her pocket for a handkerchief, dabbing at his skin first, and then at her lips just to be certain that there's no blood leftover. That would be unsightly.

The fog and the pain have already begun to lift from her own eyes, though she feels an intense sense of connection with Hubert. Moreso than usual.

"...I feel well, thank you. Much, much better than before. My wound is...healing, I think."

"Good."

The world gradually draws back into focus—and it's extremely unpleasant. When the mild euphoria departs, it's replaced with the aches of his body and throbbing of old cold-bothered wounds and shivering, each drawn into sharper detail for its foil to the sensation of the bite.

Hubert slowly sits up with a groan, fumbling to close his collar.

"We might as well wait this out, if you no long feel pressed for time."

One man from the far more temperate Enbarr really despised the severity of this land's winters.

Edelgard draws back, standing up a little straighter, breathing a little easier. All of that was an intense thing, a deeply moving moment for her. The first time she'd bitten someone, fed on another human. It's interesting, and a little liberating.

"I...we can wait, yes. Provided you're well enough."

She hates the weather, really, but there's little they can do. They do have the elemental to help, at least.

"I didn't take too much, I hope?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject