savetheearth | 05 | network (for doppel-Stefan) and action, backdated to last week

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05 | network (for doppel-Stefan) and action, backdated to last week

[A] network; video]

[Doppelganger!Stefan here, in the Alesci house with a sleeping doppelganger!Xander on the couch behind him. It's been a hell of a month, let him tell you. He's holding a beer bottle, but he doesn't sip from it as he regards "the camera."]

Okay, "Stefanizo," I get that I owe you big time, but actually working your job was not part of that IOU. I don't do crowds. [Now the world knows how Stefan mysteriously got his shifts "covered" while he's in Tokyo.] You're welcome, by the way, for compelling all the babies at Sunday school. Perfect little angels, right?

[He finally takes a sip of his beer.] More seriously - since we keep talking about preparing ourselves for the worst, I might as well cure some of my boredom. Who's interested in learning hand-to-hand combat?

I promise I'll go easy on you. At first.

[B] action]
Who: (original) Stefan, Misa, and third-party interlopers!
Where: various places around Tokyo
When: Sometime last week
What: His powers finally catch up with him - and thanks to circumstances beyond his control, Stefan realizes he's finally become a vampire.

Spiritual care was a lot harder to deliver in another country, especially when language barriers (and different religious customs) were involved. As the only openly Numbered with this kind of experience, Stefan had found himself at the forefront of the debate within Tokyo's religious community. Some hadn't taken too kindly to Numbered assistance, leaving him with more scars and bruises than he'd anticipated. Most of them, he could bandage and pretend that they'd no longer exist. Remembering a rumor about the healing properties of healing blood, he'd even sought out Emi's help. (It was worth a shot, right? Blood wasn't halal, but God would forgive him if it were a life and death emergency - or so he tells himself.)

However, even her blood couldn't save him from the worst. One night, as he's returning to Misa's place from yet another of these long meetings, a car swerves and hits him, full-stop. Even with his speed, he couldn't avoid the impact. The car doesn't even stop; it just keeps going, leaving him on the side of the road.

It's only a few hours later, when he pulls himself up, that he realizes the impact should've killed him. He can see the dried blood across his arms, and he certainly doesn't feel like he's fully functional. The pain had overwhelmed his system and-- and by all logical, rational accounts, he shouldn't be breathing. Stefan pauses, staring up at the apartment building nearby.

He's not dead. (He thinks.) So he hesitates, before finally pulling out his phone and using the Network to contact Misa.

Sorry I'm late! Could you meet me outside first, though? I'm in front of the building.

Maybe after tonight, he'll go home to Locke. At least in America, he knows their dangers.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Misa had expected Stefan to return much sooner, and though no one is on any sort of regular schedule in all this turmoil she grows more worried the longer he's gone. It's a relief when he texts her, and she smiles at the short apology. It was silly of her to get worked up, but she appreciates it none the less. She shoots back a quick 'on my way!' before excusing herself from those lingering in her apartment and taking the stairs two at a time.

It's curious that he wants to meet outside, but Misa doesn't put too much thought into it. Her apartment is rather full, after all, and it's hard to find alone time when people return to crash for the night. Why Stefan wants to be alone with her is a question that sends an excited little spark through her chest. She hurries down the remaining stairs and exits the building, glancing around to either side. Where is he?

"Stefan?"

As he waits for her, watching people pass by, he can hear their racing, pulsing heartbeats - and his hand stretches towards their necks. Strange. Stefan pulls back, turning his hand over and over again.

He shouldn't be alive, he shouldn't be listening to people's heartbeats, he shouldn't... Stefan takes a breath, staring down again at his blood-stained clothes. He can't exactly meet her like this either.

So he rummages through his bag for something, anything that can cleanse the blood from his clothes. As luck would have it, he hadn't even bothered to pack tissues. (A far cry from his normally overprepared self.)

He hears her before he sees her. He perks up, ignoring how his own heart races, as he rushes to meet her. "Misa!"

Licking bits of blood off his lips, he rolls up his sleeves and hastily shoves his bag to the right. There's so much blood. So, so much - and he's not sure how he's still alive and functioning and able to walk, but details. Details he'll sort out once he can think straight.

Misa's blood runs cold as soon as she sees him. Stefan looks like an extra in a horror movie, someone that has no right to be alive and walking around. Surely all that blood can't be his? A thousand scenarios of what might have happened race through Misa's head, but she recovers from her temporary paralysis to run toward him and meet him halfway.

"What- what happened?" she demands, hands raised as if she wants to touch him but is afraid of doing more harm.

"I don't know."

His voice nearly cracks as he stares down at his bloody shirt. "I think I got hit by a car, but..." But after that, everything went black. (Was Emi's blood the only thing that kept him alive?)

"I need to go to a hospital," he finishes, wishing desperately that he had cleaner clothes to wear because he surely doesn't feel as sick as he does. "Can you translate?"

He can hear her heart too, just like the people passing by. It's a thought that sickens him, because his newfound fascination for heartbeats can't be healthy.

"Of course! I'll get my car, just-"

Don't bleed out. Misa can't tear her eyes away from him; how is he even talking? How is he standing? Heart beating frantically, she moves to support him, putting his arm over her shoulder and encouraging him to lean on her if he needs it. Stefan is far taller than her and she would probably collapse under his weight if he was actually depending on her to keep him upright, but she has to do something.

"We'll get you inside, there's people to look after you, I'll bring the car around and we can leave right away!" She tries not to squeeze him too tightly, blinking back tears. He may be magically still alive right now, but that could change. "Just hang on, you'll be fine."

As he stands beside her (thank god, the blood's too dry to stain her clothes), Stefan's ears perk at her heartbeat - at the sound of her valves opening and closing - and he licks his lips at the sound. Why is he associating that with hunger?

There's no way. There's no way, because he isn't one of them.

"I..." He swallows his saliva, taking a good look at her and again wishing that he could do something to alleviate the pain. "Misa, it's gonna be okay."

Then he cranes his head forward, as his teeth reveal sharp, pointed canines. Carefully, slowly, he moves to lightly kiss her neck, as if to reassure her (even though he so should've aimed for her cheek).

Misa starts to say that he doesn't need to be reassuring her at a time like this, but she goes quiet when his lips brush against her neck. Her heartbeat most definitely stutters, and the action is so surprising she has no idea how to respond. Is he delirious?

"Ah, y-yeah," she says, struggling to form coherent words as a light flush fans out over her cheeks and chest. This isn't the time to be distracted or tongue-tied, Stefan is in danger, but he kissed her on the neck and Misa is having a hard time focusing on anything else.

His instincts kick in as his lips move along the base of her neck. His stomach twists with each heartbeat and before he quite realizes it (though it's arguable that he doesn't realize what he's doing), he again kisses the skin closest to her carotid artery.

Stefan takes a breath before biting in, holding her shoulders as he gulps those first few sips down. He pulls back, only long enough to lick the remnants of blood on his lips, before resuming his drink. In this moment, he's going through unpracticed motions with shaky hands - and maybe, if he hears something more alarming than traffic nearby, he may "wake up" from his hunger.

Misa's jaw drops as he bites into her neck, gasping with wide eyes but not quite screaming. Pain blossoms from where his teeth puncture her and there is a sickening pulling sensation as he sucks at her, far different from the gentle suction of a lover against her neck. A wave of nausea washes over Misa as she realizes that Stefan is drinking her.

She goes to dead weight in his arms, woozy and weak but still conscious. A limp hand pushes at his abdomen without much strength. Misa has little concept of what is happening, but she is certain that she is about to die.

The salty taste of blood jolts him back to reality - that he is, in fact, satisfying a thirst for blood. Human blood, no less. He takes a breath, panic seeping in as his even shakier hands hold her as far away from his face as he possibly can. "Astagfirullah..."

This wasn't possible. This wasn't possible, this wasn't--and yet he can see the puncture wounds as clear as day. How much blood had he drained from her? Scratch that, why was he drinking her blood as it if were second nature?

He murmurs the phrase, over and over again, as if it would resolve him of blame, before fumbling around for his phone. He doesn't know how long he can refrain from taking another sip, but dammit, he's not going to let himself succumb to whoever the hell he'd become.

Misa barely registers the change, remaining limp as a rag doll in his grasp. Her vision is blurry and without Stefan's mouth at her neck the blood continues to flow out, rivulets rolling down her shoulder to stain her shirt. She doesn't have the presence of mind to attempt to staunch it.

As providence would have it, the sound of leathery wingbeats could be heard as Emilia descends from the sky, approaching the front Misa's apartment building. She could smell the blood even from ten feet away.

"What happened!?" Emi demanded, landing a few feet away.

"Lā aʻrf." Stefan breaks his almost trance-like state long enough to glance back at Emi. Tearing off the bottom of his shirt, he quickly attempts to cover the puncture wounds - though the success of that effort's more than debatable.

The simple action's enough to make his brain register that yes, he should be talking in English. "I...I don't know. I really don't."

did someone call for a bugman late with pizza

chalicejoker - 2015-05-06 01:12 (UTC) - Expand

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hover for translation!

daaang fancy html in here

/finally posts

and the hovering continues

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