logsinthenight | closed; you're running 'cause i'm coming going to eat you alive

Entry tags:

closed; you're running 'cause i'm coming going to eat you alive

characters: Elena and others.
location: Around town.
date/time: Second half of September.
content: Vampire things, mostly.
warnings: Blood, discussion of death, sexual situations (with Jon Snow).
note: Want to join in the vampire fun? Shoot me a PM or poke me at

taintedcrimson or taintedcrimson#0986 and I'll write up a prompt!

we are m o n s t e r s ♫

rosalind lutece; i'm feeling like a villain, got a hunger inside

[ Taking a deep breath in front of the door she assumes leads to the lab she'd been directed to, she reminds herself again that she has to do this. It's the only option that might potentially lead to long-term survival here — for at least as long as they have here, anyway. And it will be good for her to talk about things, to reinforce the fact that she isn't living in hiding anymore. She just has to be a bit careful and everything will be alright.

Everything will be alright. With that thought forcibly echoing in her mind, she raises her free hand to knock, the other gripping her lantern so tightly that she nearly bent the handle. ]

eliot waugh; monsters under your bed

[ Elena's already sat at a table in the bar with a glass in her hand by the time Eliot arrives. One small benefit of living at the inn is the quick access to this valhalla of their afterlife. She'd been a bit hesitant at first to the idea of sleeping here after outing herself as a vampire, but no one had tried to murder her in her sleep yet, so: so far, so good.

Taking a sip of the amber liquid in her glass, she can't help but long for the perfectly aged bourbon that had always been in steady supply at the Salvatore house, but a deceased vampire really can't afford to be too picky when they're trapped in a mysterious afterlife of eternal darkness. ]

jon snow; and you better stay clever if you wanna survive

[ She'd thought it would get easier with time, that she would be able to message one of the people who had volunteered of their own free will to help her and not feel so utterly guilty about it. And yet here she is, sat at a table in the inn, nursing a glass of not-quite-whiskey, taking twenty minutes to send a simple message. ]

Hi. If you're not busy and still interested in helping me, could you meet me at the inn?

[ There. It's done. She tilts back her glass to finish the drink, only to immediately pour herself another from the half-empty bottle on the table. It had been full when she'd started and even now it barely has any effect. Unfortunately. ]

quentin coldwater; you'll be wishing you would listen when you meet your demise

[ Meeting at the park by the ice cream crab to talk about superpowers. For some reason, the whole thing strikes Elena as completely ridiculous, and the amusement has her almost smiling as she arrives at the park. It's a cold fall day, the warmth of her lantern doing little to ward off the chill, but still she's only in jeans and a button-up plaid shirt, her boots more fashion than function. While she feels the crisp air as much as anyone else, it doesn't bother her in the same way as she stands there in the darkness, waiting for the guy who made a whole lot of pop culture references in his address to the network. What exactly that means for what's in store for her, she's not entirely sure... ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The good news: Rosalind truly doesn't intend to go past what they agreed. If all she can get is an informative Q&A, she'll gladly take that, because it's more than she has right now. The bad news: the laboratory door opens, and the building inside is every bit as stereotypical as she might fear. There's projects half-finished on varying tables, odd scents and hints of smoke. There's a cot in the far back, with sheets rumpled enough to suggest it's here Rosalind spends most of her time. Her lantern rests on a table, and she takes a step back as she opens the door.]

Miss Gilbert, I presume. Come in. Madam Rosalind Lutece.

[British and formal, but actually fairly genuine. There's two chairs pulled forward, and a mug of what might be tea.]

[ The lab doesn't strike fear in Elena's heart, thank goodness. Had there been a barred cell in sight, she would have been out of there without a second thought, moving faster than the other woman could see. But there isn't, so Elena steps inside, continuing her visual inspection of the area for a few moments before turning her attention back to Rosalind. ]

Thank you. You can call me Elena.

[ There's a bit of nervousness in her voice, a hesitation to her movements, and the politeness of her tone is not matched by a smile. She is grateful for this arrangement, but that doesn't erase the wariness deep in her soul. ]

Madam Lutece.

[A reassertion of her title, because Elena may surrender her first name, but Rosalind does not do so easily. Still: that isn't a bad thing. She sits, reaching for her tea, and nods towards the other seat.]

I should think, Miss Elena, that I have a great deal more to fear from you than vice-versa. Correct or not?

[ Making note of the very specific way the other woman would like to be addressed, Elena's good southern manners will ensure she does so from now on. Taking the indicated seat, she almost asks for her own cup of tea, the conversation feeling all the stranger for not having been offered one herself — but then, perhaps Madam Lutece didn't realize that she was even capable of drinking it.

Straightening her back, Elena folds her hands in her lap for lack of anything else to do with them and shrugs slightly. ]

From the perspective of physical capabilities, yes. But I have my own will and I don't want to hurt anyone here.

That doesn't seem like it will be an issue.

[She takes a notebook and pen.]

Let's start with a question or two. Were you born this way, or turned? Is blood all you need to survive? Is your species common, or rare in your world?

[ The cold, clinical nature of the questions feels both strange and comforting — it's an odd combination, of course. But keeping things detached and focused on the science might help her get through this better than any other strategy. So she answers those questions in a calm and even tone, reminding herself (again) that this isn't Augustine. ]

I turned when I was eighteen; that's just when it happened for me, it's not a usual thing. Blood is all I need, human specifically is best. And I assume we're relatively rare, but that's only because I don't know. Most people don't think vampires are real, they're just monsters that show up in horror stories.

Hmm.

[They none of them shocking answers, but that doesn't mean they aren't fascinating.]

Can you describe the turning process? In detail, please.

[ And strange comfort officially over. Crossing her arms over her stomach, Elena shifts slightly in her seat before speaking. ]

You have to die with vampire blood in your system to become a vampire. That's the only way to do it, and the blood only stays in your system for about a day. After death, you wake up in transition; it's like you're not dead but you're not alive either. Your senses start to change and your body begins to slowly die, and you will do if you don't complete the transition within a day by consuming human blood.

Ah. I see. So theoretically, a person could be turned here.

[Good to know. Not that she's specifically seeking it out, but it's always best to know as many things as possible in advance. She writes that down, too.]

Are you the only vampire here?

As far as I know. But if there are others here and they choose to keep what they are a secret, I'm going to respect that for as long as I can.

[ She honestly hasn't met any others here yet, but should someone show up or reveal themselves, she isn't going to be the one to out them to the rest of the group. Not until they force her hand by posing a risk to the safety of everyone else here. ]

As you'd like.

[But that isn't a hard no, which is as telling as a straight answer. Rosalind nods to herself, then:]

I suspect this conversation might go easier if you had your half of the deal as well. Would you prefer to drink from me, or shall I cut my finger and bleed into a cup?

[ Will it go easier that way? Either way, it seems like this whole thing is going to be strangely uncomfortable and cause her to face some things she doesn't usually think about, at least not anymore. But she's made the deal and she's seeing it through. ]

Whichever you'd be more comfortable with, it's the same to me.

A glass, I think, then.

[Or a flask, anyway, but she'll get up and get a proper drinking cup for her guest anyway. No wincing as she sets a scalpel to the first two fingers of her left hand, slicing deeply enough to draw blood. It patters into the flask, and she turns her attention back on Elena.]

Do you usually have donors?

[ Elena tries not to let on the second she smells that fresh blood, masking the tension in her body by shifting again, crossing her legs and folding her arms the other direction. She's hungry, yes, but she is in control of it. She has to be. ]

Back home, we got blood bags from local hospitals.

Clever. Was one of you a doctor, or did you buy them?

[Does it matter? But it's a decent workaround. Rosalind frowns faintly as she flexes her fingers, increasing the bloodflow, watching the measurement line carefully.]

And tell me: how much do you need to ingest per day in order to feel fulfilled?

We stole them.

[ And she doesn't even feel guilty about it anymore. Funny, how time changes things like that when you accept what you've become. The smell of the fresh blood gets stronger with every passing second but she refuses to let go, shifting once more in her seat. ]

A few bags, a lot more than I can get here. But even then, the hunger's always there. We always want more.

Or you're starved for it. Have you ever consumed two thousand calories' worth of blood? It would be . . .

Around half a person's worth, I suspect. A liter would be about 900 calories, and if you'd consume three . . . I suppose it depends upon the person, but unless they were particularly large, draining that much would be almost certainly fatal. A blood bag is only a pint-- if you're living off only a few, no wonder you're always hungry.

It'd be as if I ate only one meal a day. I could survive, but I imagine I wouldn't think of anything save a steak.

[A beat, and then:]

A theory, nothing more. But one you may wish to consider in the future.

[ Maybe it's because she's hungry and tired and just done with everything in her life, but Elena plants both feet on the floor and stands, taking a few steps away from the other woman and then back, a tiny path of pacing to try relieving her frustration. ]

It might be a valid theory but it doesn't really do me much good since I can't exactly test it here. There's not enough blood to go around, not enough donors or even a way to extract it safely and store it. The only thing I can do is learn to manage my hunger and hope that some animals turn up.

[ She's not eager to try the bunny diet but she'll do it if she has to. ]

Or mix the two.

[She says it quite calmly, watching Elena as she stands. She's got a point, though: given the lack of animals around here, given the fact there's only so many people, a vampiric population will quickly starve. Do they need blood in this afterlife? After all, she doesn't need food. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps she'll suggest it when Elena seems slightly less on edge.

Impatiently, she deepens the cut, til she's dripping freely. It's only an ounce or two, but that's a fair bit when you've only got so much blood.]

Hm. My apologies. An IV will be more efficient, but I'll have to make one first.

Is it the blood or my questions that irritate?

[ Elena rubs a hand over her eyes, forcing herself to stop and take a slow, deep breath. She's not helping things and this is the deal she agreed to. Losing her temper won't help anything. ]

Probably both, but I shouldn't be rude when you're helping me like this.

[ There's something in her tone that's almost... defeated, in a way. Reserved to this fate, holding out no hope for a better situation to come along. She's alone here, no Salvatores, Gilberts, or Bennetts to swoop in and help her save the day. Dropping back into the chair, she crosses her arms again with an apology written across her face. ]

I'm sorry.

You've no need to apologize.

[It's quiet as she pulls her hand back, wrapping her finger in a clean cloth.]

This is a rather enormous adjustment. Add to the fact you've just discovered your sources for food are limited, and I should think anyone would be slightly irate.

Humans don't need food to survive here. It may be the same for you.

[ Enormous adjustment. Yeah, that sounds about right. One that sometimes seems so easy to conquer and at other times... insurmountable. ]

But the hunger's still there. I might be able to survive it, but I can't say for certain that I wouldn't eventually lose control and hurt someone.

Perhaps.

[Perhaps not. Hmm . . .]

What if I could make you an artificial substitute? You'd have to taste test it to see if it would work, but it might be a long-term solution.

[ Elena's quiet for a moment, considering the option carefully before responding. ]

I don't know if it would work, but I'd be willing to try.

Then we'll try. I'll have a prototype for you in a few weeks; it assuredly won't work, but it will be a start.

closed; you're running 'cause i'm coming going to eat you alive

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)