closed- nier

[bravers]

Who: Cloud Strife and Nier Niersson.
When: Latter half of August!
Where: Private house.
What: Bad times.
Warnings: Trigger warning: death! Vampiric death but. :/



[It's probably midday. And the nocturnal residents of a Certain House on the outskirts of the forest are, well, asleep. The night before was uneventful. Mostly spent on jobs- as so many nights before were... and more than likely, most nights after. The latter part of that might not be that true.

For now though, Cloud remained oblivious. Their arrangement is the same as it is most nights. A mixture of tossing, turning, vague sleep-fighting (...neither of them were good sleepers...) and a strange sort of sharing- Cloud's (excessive) body heat in trade for Nier's (alarmingly) low temperature, a sort of balance between them at the less... chaotic stages of their shared sleep cycle.

Currently they were at the sharing stage. And Cloud, for all of his sins, is in a vague sploot against the other man's torso- Nier lying on his back and Cloud lying right on top of him, both ends of the spectrum of temperature meeting a sort of... shared happy medium with the act. Nier's breathing, as ever, is like waves. In, out. In, out. Giving, receiving. The odd beat of Nier's heart, perhaps one or two a minute, given his vampiric state, feels like some sort of sea creatures brushing against his body every now and again.

It's comforting.
If Cloud dreamt of the ocean waves because of it, that dream gutters out soon enough. There's... some sort of tremor. An earthquake? In his dreaming state, it kind of feels like one. And then...

The waves stop.

He's suspended, in this vague state of unconsciousness becoming consciousness, of grasping at his dream. Of attempting to reform it, to cling to it. But, as anyone would find when attempting to do the same thing, it's for nothing. Conciousness comes, no matter how he, in his drowsy state, wishes for it to not.

...His eyes flick open.
And something seems wrong immediately.]

...Hey. Uh...

[Was he still asleep? Wait...
He lifts his head. What-?]

You-?

[Awake, he wants to ask. But Nier's usual pallor seems all the more...]

Hey.

[Something's wrong.]

Comments

[extirpator]

[ it was long overdue.

he'd grown more feeble over time, more sensitive — a singular ray of sunshine peeking in through the blinds was enough to leave him feeling faint. he'd powered through it, convinced himself it was nothing, doubled up on blood reserves—

but it hadn't been enough. weeks of nearly falling unconscious during jobs. days worth of having to push back and swallow ferality for fear that it would hurt those around him. he's been toeing the line of lucidity for some time now, and losing sorely. it's beyond embarassing to admit the amount of times he's retreated to the far ends of the woodlands and savagely feasted on whatever living thing he could find in the dead of night.

when he sleeps that night, the scent of sea salt sharpens into something much deadlier. it oxidizes into iron, and then copper before he's realized it. crimson washes out any traces of blue that remain. he thinks of the bones of children breaking beneath his hands, the cries of mourning mothers and fathers and brothers who never asked to be born in the same world as him.

when he sees a large oak tree, towering over him in the darkness, he realizes quickly that he is absolutely fucked.

so with a gasp and a wretch, nier's arms fan out. he reaches up as his body trembles — he is cold, colder than ever, and not even the living, breathing heater next to him can deter that. there's a head of blond hair in the corner of his eye, and for a moment that name is on his lips, desperate to roll out...

it overtaken by an exhale. his hands run down his own face, clawing, and he kicks his legs up in a frenzy. the weight pressing down on his chest is unbearable; every single ligment in his body feels as though it's wittled down into nothing and shattered. he wretches again, spitting up blood onto his chest, until he rolls off of the bed and makes some attempt to crawl up on all fours.

yeah. not a good night, to say the least. ]

[bravers]

[He hadn't known.

He hadn't known any of it- not the falling unconscious between tasks. Not the ferality that Nier had wrestled with, and as for the stark, moonless nights where the other man couldn't be accounted for, and couldn't be contacted within, he'd assumed had something to do with what Nier devoted himself to. Other people- namely, that bondmate of his who was sick.

He'd thought it that.
He'd kept his distance.
He'd not asked. He'd not commented, because however long he was gone, regardless of where he'd got to, whatever he'd done, Nier had always came back.
Details weren't important, because every morning, he'd always come back.

But now...

He moves, immediately, when Nier's arms move outward. He's off him and by his side in an instant, in the same way he'd done so many times before. Nier... was not a good sleeper. Cloud knew, well by now, of how troubled his dreams were. He knew when to retreat from his arms and his legs. When to restrain them. When to strike him away, and when to move closer, to soothe the last of his dreams back into nothing.

But this...
It's so different. He's dry-heaving as he's doing it, and besides that, the shudder of the other man's body is enough to make the bed shake. Even with the weight of the mattress, the coverings, hell, even him, the violence of his shuddering is enough to force the headboard of their bed against the stone of the wall behind them in a mad, frantic series of taps. His legs shove away their shared coverings, and the smell...

Death.
The wolf part of him recognizes it. Knows it keenly in all things, the faintest traces of it in younger animals, yearlings. The overwhelming, consuming stench of it in old quarry, animals which could be chased down, brought down. The human side of him... only knows it in a sudden sense. This smell is both. But it's neither. And it's terrifying.

His eyes widen. His breath catches in his throat as he sees what Nier coughs up- blood. But it's not the same kind of blood one would expect from a cut, or an injury. This is... old blood. Internal blood, blood which is bright and vibrant and almost orange and-

- was life.

He can only stare. But staring isn't even that long- not when Nier suddenly jerks upward and certainly not when Nier suddenly rolls away, right off the bed, the sound of flesh hitting the bare floorboards signalled in a massive thump.]

Hey, stop-!

[He's out of bed too now. From his side, and he doesn't give a single fuck about the fact he's just as bare as the day he was born. His feet slap against the floorboards as he moves around the bed, kneeling, immediately, to try and help him up.

Was this the Cwyld? Or was he sick too? Like Zelda?
Shit, he needed-

Needed-]

Don't move.

[Where the fuck was his device?!]

Don't, I'll get help- And-

[Where is it?! His arm's scrabbling on the top of a dresser.]

It's oka-

[No it's not.]

[extirpator]

[ it’s natural, he wants to tell him — and he will, once he recomposes himself and he stops feeling like a mobile bag of liquid fire, nails fervently scratching at the floorboards as he drags himself forward.

through the tresses of hair that have spilled around his face, and grit teeth— ]

It’s fine, I’m...

[ overdue for this. his shoulders square and hunch up unnaturally, until he’s standing up straight, back slumped over as he barely maintains his balance. ]

Vampires, they...

[ god, his entire line of vision is an arrangement of colored blotches and not much more. all he can process is the desire to feast — his tongue is terribly dry, desperate for even the faintest drop of blood. ]

This — it happens...to us. Damn, [ he makes some piss poor attempt to amble towards the door. ] I need – I need blood, now.

[bravers]

[It's disgusting, the way Nier goes from resembling a spasming, thrashing fly, grasping out and clawing at whatever he could, with whatever limbs he could, in the manner they do when they've been doused with insecticide to suddenly upright. The way of which he moved didn't make sense. It was as if he was pulled upward by strings from the ceiling- by some unnatural force.

Regardless of how vile it is, how unnatural, it's all he can do to move closer, to move his arms around him and try to support him, to keep him upright. To hold him up when his legs, buckling already, gave out.]

I said, stop.

[His voice is hard, rough. Notes of fear play throughout his statement, his voice rising in a way which... he doesn't like. Not at all.]

I'm taking you back to bed. I'll get you blood from downstairs. Just-

[Shit, can he leave him? Even for a few minutes?]

Just-

[Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Even touching him feels different. Before, the chill of Nier's skin was a shock against his own. But even then, it warmed... just slightly. With enough contact, it felt less cold and... almost normal. But now? It's as if it's sucking the warmth out of him. It won't warm. If anything, he's shivering.

...He can't remember the last time he did so. But-]

...No. Change of plan. M'not leaving you.

[A few steps, Nier in tow, toward the door.]

I don't give a damn if this is supposed to happen. We'll use all of it downstairs if we have to. Just promise me you'll be okay.

[extirpator]

[ cloud's voice, unnaturally loud and rigid for a change, sobers him — cools his blood a little, washing over him in waves. it's then that he registers his arms weighing down against him, and instinctually lunges for a fraction of a second. with a sharp exhale, nier's eyes snap open...and he falls back against him, if only with the intention of restraining himself. ]

Those aren't going to help, [ nier hisses out. he's jerking in his grasp, dangerously close to thrashing about, but he holds his breath and stops. his teeth come down against his lip hard enough to draw blood. ] I need — the blood of...a person. Of anyone. I need it now.

[ he looks down at his hands. they're an unnatural pale, as though he's been whittled down to ash. when he speaks his voice is hoarse — his chest heaves up and rises in erratic thrusts again, and he throws his down, barely making eye contact with cloud. ]

I don't want to hurt you. Let. Me. Go.

[bravers]

Like hell.

[A blunt refusal.

Nier can lunge, but he wouldn't get far. Cloud's own strength, as well as his Turnskin strength, would ensure that any attempt he made to break away from him would be about as fruitful as trying to break through a wall of concrete. Impossible, even in the best of times, but in this weakened state, even more so. More impossible than impossible, a chance less than zero.

...But it doesn't come to having to display that strength. He can feel Nier pull himself back, can feel the weight of his body press against his, and he can only keep clinging to him, and listen.]

You don't keep any human blood for stuff like this?

[That's a question that he already knows the answer to. Obviously not. He half wants to go on, to ask him, even if he seemed to know what was happening now would happen, that it was overdue, he still didn't keep any? but that... is just as pointless as the question he asked.

He continues to half-drag, half carry Nier through the door. What can he do? He... couldn't ask Zack. Both his blood, Zack's blood...

He'd seen Hojo's lab.
He'd seen the things within it- twisted, changed, corrupted. Both him and Zack are... tainted in the same way. No different from any of those things, not really. And their blood... It'd kill him. If not kill, then he'd wish he were dead.

He can't. That'd... been something Nier knew. His ...differences to other people. What happened to him. ...What happened to others.

Aerith... was gone, but even if she wasn't, he couldn't, and she wasn't here anyway and-

Think.

Going outside, grabbing some poor fuck-
He can't. He just can't. Even if he could, It'd mean leaving him alone, anyway. And taking him with... he'd burn in the sun.

He moves down the hallway with him, entering the bathroom. Then, Nier's (unceremoniously) shoved in the tub. The taps are turned on, and the tub begins to fill with water, a few degrees short of scalding.]

What'll happen? If you don't feed?

[Another redundant question, but he's panicking. ]