InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "That's not love. That's hate."

Bea Stanford (aqua_abscido) wrote in light_of_may,
@ 2012-01-01 21:28:00

Entry tags:

#group scene, 2009-08-29, bea, marco, simon

What goes around comes around, feel it breathing down heavy on you
Who: Bea, Simon and Marco (Plus an unfortunate explosion victim, NPC'd)
Where: close to ~~the danger zone!~~the Broadway Bridge//Huron river
When: 11:37 and onward

Bea could not say for sure what had drawn her to the mob of people that were marching, nor why she was even awake at this hour. More often then not, she found she couldn't sleep for the voices in her head, and it had been too long since she had fed for her to find much solace in sleep. Really, it was not the best idea for her to be around so many people. The smells were overwhelming, and Bea found that she was too confused to do much else beyond smile and move through the crowd, too muddled with scents to pick out the ones she needed. Plus, the fact that the sun was out did not help. Bea had not quite figured out that certain bloods would protect her from the draining feeling of the daylight. It was through a haze of hunger and confusion that something very strange happened. Loud noises hit her ears and the bridge she'd been close to exploded in a rain of fire and rubble. Before she could even register the fact that she was in the blast zone and in danger of being set on fire, her legs were moving and she was running much faster than most people would. She didn't think of anything else beyond the blind panic to get away from all things fiery. She had made it far enough away from the bridge that the second round of explosions were way too close. Shrapnel, concrete and flames came hurtling at her and Bea screamed, throwing her arms up around her head. Which was all well and good, save for the fact that her arms were just as flammable as the rest of her body. Since they were now on fire. Not to mention the cuts from glass her upper body sustained, or the blunt trauma of the concrete. It didn't take long at all for Bea's scream to become the only thing she actively could hear.

She was going to die, for real this time.

Terror had her running again, which should have made sense to anyone else who was not Bea. The flames licked her dead flesh, and it was beyond agony. The only thing that made sense to her was putting the fire out. Water put fire out, right? There was a river close by, Bea could smell it. She hurtled herself blindly towards the water, completely forgetting that it was a bad idea do go anywhere near it when she had not had water elemental blood recently. How she managed to get to the river without burning to death, Bea would never know, but she threw herself off the shoreline as soon as she got there. The flames hissed as they went out and Bea breathed a sigh of relief, despite the blackened flesh that covered almost her entire upper body. Her relief was short-lived when the water around her turned cold. Much colder than it was possible, as warm as the day was. A crackling sound accompanied the rapid temperature drop, and Bea could only tread water for a moment before she found she couldn't move. At all. Everything from the surface of the water down was being covered with layer upon layer of ice. While it wasn't possible for her to drown or suffocate, she could still be quite uncomfortable. And terrified. And trapped, by the very element she was sworn to protect. "HEEELP!" She couldn't move, and she wasn't the only one screaming, but surely someone would hear her? Right?

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lostmutt
2012-01-02 04:31 am UTC (link)

For Marco, life in Scarlet Oak had remained relatively quiet, not that he had actually ventured out much in it to know if there was excitement to be had. Drina had kept to herself for months, so it only made sense that Marco keep close to home as well. But there were things changing. Suddenly she was getting braver, more confident in integrating herself back into the world. He didn't like it and though he told himself it was because he knew she wasn't ready, there was something more to it than that. Today he had decided to take a break from tailing the other were; funds were low and he couldn't think of a better place to lift a few wallets than a march. All those people gathered for peace, everyone would be too busy with their cause to notice him lightening their pockets. He had spent all morning weaving his way through the crowd, taking what he pleased, so that by the time he had reached the bridge Marco had more than enough to last him another month. He checked his watch; it was half-passed eleven -- plenty enough time to grab a bite before sniffing around town to see what Drina was doing for the night. Marco had found a path that led him away from the bridge and down by the river. It seemed like the perfect place to count his earnings out of the public eye.

What happened next was something that Marco couldn't believe. There was a crack through the air, so loud it almost deafened him. He looked behind him, back up to the bridge to see it crumbling to pieces. He barely had time to begin a silent prayer before a second blast went off, the shock of which sent him to the ground. Bits of burning shrapnel and cement came raining down around him; he curled up into a ball to protect himself as well as he could, but that didn't stop a hard piece of the bridge from clipping him in the side. Marco cried out in pain, his hand grabbing his ribs. It was warm and wet. When he thought it was safe, he pulled his head up to looked at the blood on his hands. The sight sent a shiver through him and Marco steeled himself against his more violent memories. His ears were still ringing from the blast; the continuing screams did little but add to the cacophony of sound in his head. Slowly, he rose to his knees and then to his feet, careful not to loose his balance. Marco turned to look back at the bridge for a second time, trying to take in all the horror and chaos. Who would do such a thing? He knew he had done things he wasn't proud of, horrible things in his eyes, but never had he imagined such cruelty. A prayer flowed from his lips and he shut his eyes before turning away. He began to walk as far from the scene as his legs would take him when a voice close by caught his still tender ears. It took him a moment for his eyes to focus on the source of the cries for help. For the second time today, Marco couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was a woman stuck in the river -- no, in ice. How was she in ice at this time of year? He stood still, staring at her hard. It would be safer for him to move on -- he couldn't risk anyone noticing him -- but it went against everything inside of him to leave a woman in danger without at least trying to help. Marco moved to action. He reached the water's edge before going down to one knee, hand extended out toward the blonde. From what he could see, it was going to take more than one person to pull her up. "I'm here to help you. How far down does the ice go?" Later, when all of this was said and done, he would deal with trying to figure out the how and why of ice in summer.

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lg_fuad
2012-01-02 04:56 am UTC (link)

Simon had, honest to god, no idea what was going on. At one moment he'd been up on the bridge with the rest of the march, and the next he couldn't actually remember, but he'd ended up in the water. Something had hit his head hard enough to crack one lens of his glasses, and how they'd survived the fall, he had no idea. Simon was a reader, not a mind reader, or a clairvoyant, and there was no way in hell he'd have seen this coming. It did, however, explain the massive amount of phone calls he'd gotten from his mother that morning, babbling on about how he needed to be careful. Kind of hard to be careful when you get blindsided by a fucking bomb or twelve, Mom. There was still shrapnel raining down and he knew there were more than a few pieces of debris stuck in his hair, still crazy as ever even though it was wet from hitting the water. Everything hurt, and he was sure he was bruised in places he hadn't realized existed before now.

But at least Tabitha was with Jolene - probably the one and only time Simon would ever admit that and be glad about it. His daughter didn't need to see this. Shit, he'd only decided to check out the march that morning! This was the last time he made any split second decisions without consulting his Magic 8 Ball or his tea leaves. It was only after he hauled himself out of the water did he realize how much it hurt to breathe - had he broken a rib when he hit the water? What did broken ribs even feel like?

And yet, none of that mattered when he heard someone else calling for help. Simon got to his feet, glad all his parts still worked, or mostly worked, and ran over to where there was a woman trapped in ice. First bombings, and now this? "What the shit?" Simon couldn't help it, they were just the first words that got out of his mouth. Maybe his glasses were more broken than he realized and he was seeing things. Or he'd hit his head really hard. There was another guy there trying to help and Simon joined him, figuring two people had to be better than one. "Hey, it's okay, we'll get you out!"

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aqua_abscido
2012-01-02 05:28 am UTC (link)

Panic. That was the current state of mind that Bea was in. She couldn't move, and as strong as she knew she was now, the ice was stronger. If that didn't make everything completely horrible to deal with, the fact that the voices were swarming her brain did. They were so loud, they almost drowned out the sound of a voice nearby. Taking a breath, Bea tried to focus through the deafening voices to the fact that there was a man there, trying to help her. A whimpering sob escaped her lips as he reached out to her, momentarily misunderstanding his intent. Had he really said that he was there to help? And then there was a question he'd asked and she tried to make her mind work past the feel of the ice. "All the way." A choking sob caught in her throat at that admission. Something about talking about the fact that Water finally had her in its clutches made her panic settle over her. She frantically flailed her limbs, trying to free herself from the ice. A great, crackling sound rang out as she wrenched one of her arms out of the ice, taking several burnt layers of skin with it as she freed the limb. A surprised scream poured out of her as her eyes widened at the ravaged appearance of her flesh. Before it could become cased in ice again, she flung her arm out at the man where his hand was extended.

And then there was another voice and Bea was momentarily floored with a feeling of surprise. Two people had come to help her. That they were male didn't bother her, she was much more worried about the fact that she was stuck in the water, in the ice. As she struggled to free her other arm, despite the impending pain it would cause, she felt a little bit of hope that they might be able to help her. A shuddering ripping sound filled her ears as the other arm came away, leaving fire-charred flesh stuck to the broken ice. Stretching out the other arm, she let herself hope that she might get away. It was on the edge of that feeling of hope that she felt the sudden shock of cold that filled her chest. Could Elemental Guardians be killed by being impaled? She dropped her gaze, unable to do anything besides watch in horror as a spear of ice thrust its way through her ribcage, just a little to the side of her dead heart. A shuddering sob went through her as she watched the blood leak out of the huge whole the ice made in her chest. Wordlessly, her gaze went back up to the men in front of her, her arms still reaching. "Get me...out...please..."

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lostmutt
2012-01-02 06:17 am UTC (link)

All the way ? That certainly didn't make things any easier and for a second, Marco feared that he might not be able to get her out. He smiled at her, a warm reassuring smile to let her know that there was nothing to be afraid of; if there was anything that Marco excelled at, it was lying to others with his smiles. He watched helpless as she struggled, tears -- no, blood -- starting to form in her eyes. There was no way that he could have smelled her through the cloud of blood and smoke in the air, but blood tears were a dead give away. It wasn't the first time that he had ever had an interaction with vampire, but it was certainly the first in which one of them was seeking his help. If he wasn't so unnerved by the whole ordeal, he would have laughed. Relief flooded through him when a man approached them, ready and willing to offer his help. He was glad to take a moment to look away from the terrified girl. "She says the ice goes all the way down. If we get enough leverage, I think we can pull her up and out." It was as good an idea as any and at least now he didn't have to worry about her dying before they could free her from the trap. As soon as it was extended out to him, Marco reached out for the vampire's arm taking her hand in one of his while the other was placed under her pit. He watched, unblinking, as she tore the other arm free. There was no time for a weak stomach at the sight of her shredded skin. "Quick! Grab her arm!"

"Mary, Mother of God*" Marco whispered, his eyes growing wide. He had tried to keep calm for the sake of the panicked girl, but this -- this was almost too much. Was there something in the water that was holding on to her like this? Who could she have possibly made this angry? There were people all around them dying or dead from the explosion, but this girl seemed to be in danger from something else altogether. "Fuck. Oh... Just... just stay calm." He turned his eyes back to the man who had come to help. Marco had no clue what he was, if he could do anything to help, or if he even knew what the girl in the ice was. This whole situation was getting out of control way too fast. Carefully, Marco reached out for the ice that was coming out from the girl's chest. He took a deep breath, the only warning he offered, and pulled the spear from her body. If he had had enough forethought, he would have tried to put something nice in her head to take away from the pain. Marco wasn't even sure if glamours worked on vampires, but it would have been worth a try. The force threw him backwards, but he was quickly back on his knees by her side, her arm back in his hands. "Quick, we've got to try pulling her out before something else happens." He felt like he was talking crazy, but that's exactly what was happening to him at that moment.

*spoken in Spanish

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lg_fuad
2012-01-03 12:14 am UTC (link)

Whoa. Okay, Simon had to have hit his head. Or the weed he'd last smoked had something else laced with it because there was no way he could simply make this shit up. She had fangs. The river had somehow frozen her into place. Her skin was so burned it was peeling off like pieces of chicken stuck to a grill and she was crying blood. This was not what Simon had signed up for when he woke up this morning. This was like something he'd read in one of his many comic books over the years, safe because it was obvious that it was still just a story.

But it was real. It had to be and he had no choice but to man up and lend a hand. That didn't mean Simon's hands weren't shaking as he nodded to the guy, reaching out for the woman's arm and getting a grip. And that alone made him squeamish, only because her arm wasn't entirely there - and seeing the other guy pull that shard of ice from her chest really wasn't helping, either. Moving that quick just intensified the pain in his side as he twisted. Simon let out a gasp and then bit it back, grinding his teeth together to keep from screaming. He'd never actually had broken bones before. That was all Lux, and he knew his best friend would have been better in this situation than he was. She'd been trained for it. Simon had been trained to read books and figure out math equations.

Simon held onto the woman while the other guy pulled, keeping her from falling in any further. "Got it," he said, bracing his feet against the edge of the ice. "On three. One, two, three!" And then Simon gave the hardest pull he could, hoping it would be enough, and that it wouldn't hurt the vampire further in the process.

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aqua_abscido
2012-01-03 04:05 am UTC (link)

Bea was momentarily dazzled by the degree of warmth in the smile she was offered by the first man. It was distracting, and for a moment, Bea didn't have the capacity to do anything other than try to smile back at him, male packaging and all. Until of course her body reminded her that she was in serious shit. The feel of the man grabbing her hand was like a life-line, and Bea fumbled to grip his hand tightly. Not only was the ice that still encasing most of her body making her feel strangely lethargic, the sun's rays that beat down on her were further weakening her in her injured state. How in the world would she be able to do anything else if these men weren't able to get her out? A sob caught in her throat as she reached out to the other man, gripping whatever she could reach on him once he'd grabbed her arm. That it hurt to have his hands on her exposed flesh was an understatement. The dimming feeling of strength in her limbs, both from her frantic attempt to escape the ice, and from the sun was making the world around her feel dreamlike.

The spear of ice in her chest most certainly did not help. It was distracting, yes, but as the men had moved closer, Bea found she could smell them over the scent of smoke and fire and death. The first man smelled...different, more. If a scent could be fluffy, that what his smelled like, as if Bea could curl up with him. And the second man? The second man smelled wonderfully. She knew that smell. It was psychic blood that pumped through his veins, and she was suddenly ravenous, the pain in her body forgotten in her bloodlust. Her train of thought was cut short, of course, by the fact that the first man was reaching for the spear that was currently impaling her body. "No, don't--" her warning ended in a scream of agony as the ice cut jagged edges on the way out, as if the Water in the ice was not done hurting her. She had just thought that maybe the pain in her body would make her pass out--did vampires pass out?--when she felt them begin to pull her out of the water. What little she could do to help, she did, even it was only using her arms to try to pull herself closer. All three of their strength should be enough to pull her out, right? Hopefully before she lost what small grip on staying conscious she had.

A groaning, cracking sound met her ears as their combined strength had her pulled up and pitching out onto the shore like some strange vampire Popsicle. Before she could do anything, she wanted to get the rest of the ice off of her, and to do that, she would need more help. Her arms moved feebly and while the rest of her was still frozen, she only hoped they find some way to get the ice off of her. One that didn't involve fire. "No water, no fire." This became some strange cadence, one that she repeated over and over, not able to think of anything else at the moment. Blood pooled under her chest on the river bank as she lay there, trying not to feel anything and feeling everything. "Water elemental." That was what she needed. "Need a....water elemental." What she needed it for would probably be quite obvious.

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lostmutt
2012-01-04 07:19 am UTC (link)

The other man could take direction -- Good, because Marco could only handle one panicking person at a time. On the count, he pulled as hard as he could without dislocating the vampire's arm. At first the ice didn't want to release her, but Marco didn't give up or let go. The force of their strength met with the sudden release of the vampire sent him of his balance and onto the shore beside of the girl. A grunt of pain escaped him as he collided with the ground for a second time. What was it now? Marco pushed himself up to look over at the girl. She was still covered in ice, but surely it wasn't anything to worry about. From the way she was reacting, she certainly thought different. He looked over at the other man, his brow furrowed in confusion. He could only assume that the words were in reference to getting the ice off, otherwise, he was completely lost to their meaning. If anything, Marco certainly wished that she would stop repeating it. "Shh... Just relax." He offered her another warm smile, since she seemed to like the first one so much, as he reached out and brushed her hair behind her right ear. Marco's face tightened as he looked back to the other man then around them for something that could be used to get the ice off of her. And then the answer began to pool out near his feet. He licked his lips and swallowed hard.

Marco had always thought that a vampire's blood would be cold, it only made sense to him, but, as he placed his hands on the girl's chest wound, he was surprised to find that it was warm. He pressed it as gently as he could so that the blood poured from it and into his hands. "No elementals around here, señorita." Marco wasn't even sure he would have told her if there was; she had spoken the words as though she were only asking for a glass of water and he was not about to quench that thirst. It took a handful of times for Marco to collect enough blood and rub it on the ice in the hopes that it would melt off of her. His face showed none of the horror that he was feeling. It didn't matter how many times he washed himself, the smell of this vampire's blood would be on him for a week at the least. "Is... is that better? The ice is off of you now." Her clothes and skin were covered in red, but Marco didn't think that would matter much to a vampire. She had to have been used to it. He looked back to the other man, uncertain for the first time what they should do next. "I think she's fine, but we can't leave her here. She could be going into shock. Any ideas?"

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lg_fuad
2012-01-13 02:09 pm UTC (link)

How exactly Simon was keeping from panicking, even he had no idea. It wasn't like he could think of any other situation even similar to this that he'd ever been through, except for Lux's attack and he hadn't been there for that. Seeing her in the hospital afterwards had been bad enough. And it didn't help that the girl didn't seem to be quite all there, saying "No water, no fire," and asking for a water elemental. Even if he was one, Simon was not about to be volunteering, and he shook his head.

So, while the other man tried to calm her down - and the sight of him rubbing blood on her arms was one even the best of his weed wasn't going to wipe out of his mind - Simon did what he knew best. He kneeled in the sand, hunched over because of the pain in his ribs, and started drawing a little diagram in the sand while chanting a little under his breath. Normally Simon wasn't so open about being a witch, but fuck it, everything had gone to hell and if he could help swing things back towards them a little, then he would. It was one of the first spells his father had taught him as a child, a simple luck spell, and he'd know pretty quickly if the magic was going to backfire against him. When nothing immediately happened - and Simon was holding his breath the whole time to be sure - he finally looked up at the other man. "I don't know. Hopefully that" - he pointed to the sand - "will help get the paramedics over here a little bit faster." He slipped out of his hoodie, which granted was still wet and sticking to him, and pillowed it underneath the woman's head. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. What's your name? I'm Simon, and this is..." He glanced up at the other guy so he could fill in the blank.

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aqua_abscido
2012-01-17 12:06 am UTC (link)

Much of Bea's mind was lost to panic. Panic to get the blood she knew she needed. Panic to stop trying to fight through the feel of the ice as it still clung to her. The sun's rays continued to make her feel lethargic and she had no idea how to fix that beyond getting out of the light. But how could she do that when she could barely move? The pain in her arms was unlike anything she'd felt before, as was the strange, lightheaded sensation of losing so much blood. The shushing noises from the man were ignored until Bea felt him touching her hair. She broke down sobbing, flinching before she could stop herself. "Going to d-die," was barely audible through her sobs, the blood flowing down her cheeks and continuing to leak out of her chest. That the man was using the temperate blood to thaw the ice was something she couldn't seem to focus on until he'd said something about it.

Moving experimentally, Bea found that her legs had gone a bit stiff from Water's assault. Her body was one agony after another, but the ice had gone, and she couldn't seem to smell anything over the tang of her blood in the air. The thick, cloying scent of her burnt flesh was just underneath and she struggled feebly to crawl, to do something other than lay there. She moved her head to watch the other man chant, the one that smelled delicious. Delicious and unhelpful, Jaladhi said so. Only water elemental would help her now. "Please." She could feel her body weakening, the sun and the blood loss coupling to make her feel light and like she was losing her grip on reality, such that it was. She dimly registered that the chanting man had asked her name. "Bea," she murmured, an unlikely smile coming to her lips at his politeness. "Need it, need water elemental." Whatever the chanting man had drawn in the dirt didn't seem to be helping. That was, until underneath the scent of her own blood and charred flesh, Bea caught a scent that made her whimper in relief. "Water. Water..." Her head lolled to the side in her attempt to see where the scent was coming from. The crumpled body of a man with a bright red shirt lay near the river bank, floating half in and half out of the water. He didn't look like he was alive, and Bea wasn't sure if the men would bring him to her if he was. She began to crawl, wincing as debris from the river-bank dug into the bare flesh of her arms as she pulled herself towards the man.

It was an agonizing trek over to the man, and by the time Bea got over to him, she didn't even bother to see if there was a pulse or not. She grabbed his arm, which was the closest part she could reach, sinking her fangs into his wrist. At first, the blood that spilled down on her tongue tasted amazing, making Bea make a strange guttural animal sound in her throat. The second mouthful tasted a little off, almost like water gone stagnant. She spat it out, sucking at the wound again. The blood tasted disgusting, foul, and Bea fumbled to feel for a pulse. There was none. Did dead bodies cease to provide nourishment, then? She screamed in frustration, all the strength she'd found to get over to this spot ebbing. She dimly registered the fact that her chest seemed a little less painful, but she hadn't gotten nearly enough blood to do any sort of major healing. Her tongue moved along the inside of her mouth, trying to suck down any trace of the blood that hadn't actually tasted wrong. It wouldn't be enough and she moved to roll herself onto her back, her eyes staring at the sky. "Going to die..." The thought hit her and it was less painful than before, buffered as she was by the small swallow of nourishment she'd been able to get.

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lostmutt
2012-01-17 11:25 pm UTC (link)

Marco was not ignorant to the many things that had come out of the woodwork thanks to the Light of May, but that didn't mean that he was well-versed in everything that was out there. Witchcraft was a concept that he was familiar with, but it had only been in recent months that he had learned that it was more real than he had initially though and much less evil -- well most of it. Marco had been raised to believe that witches were in league with Satan, something to be feared and reviled. While he knew that this man meant no harm -- why would he choose now to hurt him or the vampire woman now, after everything? -- but that didn't stop him from standing up and taking a step back with a soft gasp. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, looking away from the symbols that had been drawn into the sand. Marco made a cross over her upper-body and said a silent prayer in hopes that help would come soon as well. He wasn't even sure that vampires fell under God's protection, but that didn't stop him from asking. "Marco." He finished Simon's sentence, as his eyes went back to the vampire woman. His face had become hard as he watched Bea fight the battle going on inside of her. In the back of his mind, he wondered what would happen if a vampire didn't get the blood they needed; the curiosity was morbid, and Marco reassured himself that he didn't want to watch it happen.

When Bea began dragging herself over to the dead man, Marco turned away and walked back over to the river. He knew what she was doing and he didn't want to watch. More than anything he wanted to wash the blood off his hands and walk away from this, but for now, he would settle for getting rid of the blood. Marco could feel his nerves harden, even more so than they already had up to this point, at the sound of Bea's weak words. Vampire or no, alive or living-dead, he couldn't walk away from someone who needed his help. With a grim look in his eyes, Marco glanced over to Simon before crossing over to where Bea had moved. He knelt down once again beside the young woman. His hand found it's way to her hair again, pushing it out of her face and brushing across her cheek as he leaned over her to speak. "Will any blood help you heal? A substitute until you can find more?" What are you even saying? Even Marco wasn't exactly sure what he was suggesting or even offering. He had no reason to believe that this woman was a good person, worthy of saving, but then again, he had no reason to believe that she wasn't.

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lg_fuad
2012-01-27 04:46 pm UTC (link)

The last thing Simon wanted to do ever was to scare someone with his magic. It wouldn't be the first time someone had looked at him funny or reacted badly to what he could do - he could still remember that first conversation with Jolene, all those years ago. She'd been freaked out then and she straight up hated it now. The magic she could never wrap her head around, though his psychic abilities were somewhat easier to swallow when everything he saw with his powers did tend to come true. Thank god there weren't any tea leaves or runes for him to use now, because Simon did not want to see something else terrible happening. His mother was probably losing her mind right about now, and he wondered if she'd seen the bombing in advance, knowing he'd be there before Simon even made the decision to go. "Don't be sorry," he told Marco. "Trust me, I'm one of the good ones." Magic could cause some nasty shit to happen, and Simon wouldn't touch blood magic with a ten foot pole. His father had taught him better than that.

Seeing Bea begin to crawl over the sand, and feed on the dead? Of all the things Simon had seen that afternoon, that one was going to take the cake. He looked away, fighting the nausea that flooded him, and knelt in the sand so he wouldn't throw up. It was one thing to know that vampires fed on the blood of humans and another to see her feed on a corpse and - no. Just no. Hearing Marco's suggestion, Simon's head snapped up, because he distinctly heard him offering Bea blood. Kind of. Or asking about it. Either way, he was not for snacking, damn it! Besides, didn't psychic blood make vampires drunk, anyway? Or something like that? He was really going to have to start paying more attention to this things.

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