Saoirse (seersha) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2011-02-14 17:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | #group scene, 2009-08-09, saoirse |
OMG STOP THINKING SO LOUD
Who: Saoirse, Nic, and a bit of Zania
When: Early evening
Where: Wrecker Road/Heme
Technically, it was a really bad idea to be out by yourself on a night like tonight. Saoirse couldn’t bring herself to be too worried. She had stopped by the other shelters before heading to Heme, generally being the helpful vampire her house wanted her to be, and after helping some stranded motorists with a flat tire, she began the walk over to Heme. It was going well, until the wind shifted - hitting her with a scent that made her stand as still as stone. Dammit. Dammit all to hell, she had meant to ask one of the older vampires to teach her how to fight. She really had! Why hadn’t she done it? I am not feeding from it this time, she promised herself. I’m not. Last time shit got way too weird. She flipped awareness, just in time to see a black mass jumping at her back.
Vampire reflexes were nothing to be trifled with, even that of a newbie vampire. She turned faster than a human could blink, and at least managed to avoid being tackled from behind. She threw her arms out and braced the demon’s shoulders, but the blow was still enough to knock her to her back. In this case, she just took the damn thing with her.
Which was potentially not a position she wanted to be in. She realized that belatedly. She was left on the ground, staring up at a black mass of doom and teeth, and just barely holding it at arm’s length. She knew she should have been scared, but she couldn’t get over how repulsive it was. And its breath stunk. That was almost the worst part. Could vampires throw up? Why didn’t she know the answer to that question? SHIT! FOCUS! She shifted her weight and shoved, reversing their positions to throw an inexperienced punch. Even without really knowing how to throw a punch, it still packed a decent amount of force, coming from a vampire. Unfortunately, that just seemed to piss it off more. As it clawed at her, she couldn’t help but think, DUMBASS. Always go for the throat. Take its fucking head off.
If there was one safe place to be in Scarlet Oak during a demon attack, it was Heme. Nic figured there was nowhere better, considering the strength of his company, and thus was camping out there with others that were more freaked out by demons than vampires. Unwilling to leave his cousin at home, doing who knows what, he’d dragged Zania along. She lay on the floor of the stage, bobbing her head to the music on her headphones, as he sat at the piano, idly playing a few keys. It was something to do, since the bar wasn’t technically functioning the way it usually did, and he didn’t need to be playing the role of bouncer. As he finished his drink, he rose from the piano, then stepped outside to have a cigarette. Yes, it was unhealthy, but Nic had determined lung cancer was the last thing on earth that would kill him.
DUMBASS. Nic blinked, wondering who’s head he’d drifted into, a voice that sounded too familiar and not as close as it should have been. He tucked his lighter back in his pocket, wondering to himself who he’d focused on, while trying to maintain the connection. Take its fucking head off. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, and he dropped his cigarette on the ground as he began to look for her. It was Seer, he was sure of it. But where was she? Nic wandered through rows of cars in the parking lot, looking for Saoirse as he pulled out his gun. This really didn’t seem like a time to care about carrying laws and who might see him.
Luckily, Saoirse wasn’t too far away from Heme. Within view of the parking lot, albeit slightly obscured by bushes and trees. One of which she was immediately shoved against. As it got to its feet, she decided to throw her rules out the window. Her vampire instincts were what had got her through the two more brutal events of her undead life, now was not the time to try and taper them. She lunged for its throat. When her teeth broke the skin she braced herself, waiting to feel that drunken assault of her senses. It didn’t happen. Well, that was good. She bit into muscle and yanked, causing the demon to scream and claw at her. One of its claws struck through her throat, causing Saoirse to step back, gasping and gurgling on her own blood. OH, FUCK!
The mental thoughts were coming through loud enough that Nic had his gun cocked and ready to fire, just as soon as he could figure out where Saoirse was. For all the yelling she was doing in her own head, she was plenty quiet to his human ears. “Seer!” Nic shouted, thinking that was probably a bad idea in terms of what might be out there with her, but how else was he going to find her? Forcing her to come to him didn’t seem like the brightest idea when she might need to be fighting instead. As he ran across the parking lot, movement beyond caught his eye, causing him to sprint ahead. While he figured she was being attacked, he wasn’t prepared to face the monster that stood beside her. He’d been face to face with a lot of different creatures, but never with a demon.
Saoirse tried to shout, but her voice wasn’t working. She felt like she was drowning in her own blood, before she remembered she didn’t need to breathe. She would heal, right? Before she bled out? She clutched both hands around her own throat as she hit the ground, desperate to stop the bleeding, when she heard Nic draw closer. Okay, now she was scared. And effectively useless.
Nic was right about one thing-- yelling got the demon’s attention. That was good for Saoirse, who didn’t look like she could take another hit, but not so great for Nic, who would not survive in hand-to-hand combat with a demon. “Fuck,” Nic muttered as the demon began to race towards him, and he figured now would be a good time to start shooting. One bullet in the head only pissed it off, at which point Nic decided that taking out it’s eyes should be the first priority. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Why the fuck is it still moving?! He was now thinking a shotgun would have been better to have on hand, though as he fired his last shot it crumbled to the ground, dead. Maybe more than dead. In his moment of panic, he might have wasted a few shots, but he doubted there were others waiting in the shadows. Instead, he turned to Saoirse, who was looking worse, rather than better. “Dammit.” He knelt down next to her, not sure what to do. Weren’t vampires supposed to heal quickly? Because that didn’t seem to be the case here.
Saoirse knew she was losing blood way too fast. Through her other awareness and view of the scene, she knew the gash was bad. She was too afraid to remove her hands to see just how bad. It hurt bad. She tried to speak... and realized with dawning horror that her vocal cords might have been cut. She was feeling weaker, she was bleeding way too much... and it was with cold dread that she realized this was probably something close to what Zachary went through when he attacked her. He’d been a hell of a lot worse off, sure, but he’d explained it to her. Some injuries were too bad to heal on their own before you could bleed out. She winced faintly when Nic drew closer. She didn’t want to do what Zachary did. She’d never forgive herself. She remembered what Nic was, and hoped he wasn’t blocking her out. It’s not healing fast enough! I can’t stop it!
Since hearing her from inside Heme, Nic had kept the connection between them, seeing no reason to cut it when it seemed to be helping. As such, he heard her perfectly and nodded to himself as he tried to figure out what to do about it. The solution seemed simple, but it made him uneasy and he wasn’t sure Saoirse would agree to it. Though, if her life was on the line, he didn’t think she had much choice. “You need blood,” he said, looking at her, then back at Heme. There was plenty of blood inside, but not the time to get her there, not with as fast as she seemed to be fading. Taking a deep breath, he leaned over her, hands on either side of her head. “I promise not to let you drink too much.” She might not be able to control herself, but he definitely could.
Saoirse wasn’t really capable of physically flailing, but she was doing a fair amount of mental flailing. Oh no, she hated this idea. There was blood in Heme! Only... that seemed very far away, considering things were feeling a little darker, a little colder, with each passing second. She wasn’t supposed to feel cold. And even if they could get to Heme in time... there were dozens of people there using it as a shelter. Seeing her would just make everything a lot worse. Also, Gray might kill her. Oh, Jesus, Nic was leaning over her. Couldn’t he just give her his wrist? She made a mental note to smack him when she was stronger - as a true sign of just how not with it Saoirse was, it never occurred to her to just think it at him. Brilliant. She looked him in the eye, and nodded faintly. I hate the shit out of this idea, she informed him. Just so he would know. And then with a silent prayer, she gave in, doing her best to be gentle.
“Yeah, well, I don’t have any others,” Nic said with a soft laugh, then hissed as he teeth sunk into him. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever felt, but it really wasn’t something he’d be seeking out on a regular basis. Now that he was there, Nic realized this wasn’t exactly the best way to go about this, that there were probably a hundred different places a vampire could easily bite and draw blood from, and that he was going to get light-headed way before he was short on blood just by his own poor positioning. Smart move, Nic. Real smart. Dumbass. Besides making him dizzy, he thought this was probably getting blood all over Saoirse, unless a hundred percent of it was going in her mouth. In his experience, blood gushed wherever the hell it wanted to gush, and he was glad he was wearing a black shirt because of it.
Saoirse was trying really hard not to think about drinking blood from her friend’s neck. It was an experience she’d never wanted to have, and on top of all her reasons, she had a new one to add: it was really freaking awkward. Even on the brink of... whatever she was on the brink of. Desperation didn’t take away from that, the way she might have hoped it would. She was actually pretty glad to be wearing black, too. She was covered in blood either way, but at least it wouldn’t show so much. It tasted good, but sweet Jesus did she not want to think like that! Amazingly enough, Saoirse’s worst fears were never realized. She knew when to stop. She felt a twinge of pain, and tingling, as it felt like something in her throat was trying to reconnect. She gasped and pulled back, frozen to the spot and not wanting to jinx it. She was healing. Thank Christ, she was healing. “Next time...” Words were hard. Damn hard. They came out as ragged breaths, and she didn’t even have to breathe. “Wrist.”
Letting his mind drift was a bad idea, since the easiest place for it to go was into her thoughts, and she really didn’t need the intrusion at the moment. This was awkward enough without that addition, though as he caught the thought that he tasted good Nic almost laughed. What was wrong with this picture when the vampire was disgusted by that thought but the human was amused? Nic was just about to speak up and say she should stop when she did so anyways, and he sat back on his feet, pressing his hand against the wound. Black blood slipped thorugh his fingers, but began to clot. “Yeah, realized that after you bit down,” Nic said with an amused smirk. “Next time avoid the demon.” Hopefully there wouldn’t be a next time. His eyes zeroed in on her neck, watching it heal in front of him. Pretty fuckin’ cool.
Saoirse was still too paranoid to remove both hands from her own throat, but she did remove one long enough to push herself into a sitting position. She leaned back against a tree, and tried to convince herself her throat wasn’t going to fall apart if she let go. She blinked at Nic. “Your blood is black,” she realized. Her voice was still extremely raspy, nowhere near her own yet. She could feel herself healing, but it would probably take a couple minutes. “It snuck up on me. Baby vampire, remember? Shit happens.” Oh, there would be no living with Gray after this. She almost wished she could avoid telling him. “It’s not cool, it’s tingly. It feels weird,” she said. She never even realized that he hadn’t said that out loud.
“Another perk of being a necromancer-- dead man’s blood. Or that’s what I’ve always called it. It’s the only surefire way to identify one of us.” It was the kind of thing that drew attention on the playground every time a knee was scraped. Kids thought it was cool. Adults, on the other hand, freaked the hell out and sent him to the nurse. Times like that Nic wished he had the glamour ability to make it at least look red, but no luck. “Hey, you did better than I would have. A hit like that would’ve taken me down for good.” It didn’t matter that he was a good shot, since he doubted he would have gotten one in before the attack. Nic froze as she responded to something he didn’t think he’d said out loud, a chill running up his back as his mind began to turn. What effect does my blood have on you? The thought was projected at her, just as a test, and he held his breath as he prayed she couldn’t hear to answer.
That time, Saoirse had been watching his face. She knew his lips hadn’t moved. She went wide-eyed. She had heard his voice again, but it was in her head. “How the fuck am I supposed to know!” she heard herself blurt out. “Baby vampire! Necromancer blood isn’t something Heme really has on tap!” And she was wondering now if that wasn’t for damn good reason. “Am I hearing you? The way you hear me?”
“You answered my question, so my guess is yes,” Nic said. “But now I want to know if it’s just me you can hear or everyone.” He was pretty sure that they didn’t have Necromancer blood on tap because it was hard to find, but if they did then they still might rethink it. Hundred year old vampires that could invade each other’s thoughts didn’t seem like a good idea, especially if they had no control over it. Nic had learned control, but that had taken years.
“Let’s test something,” Nic suggested, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. He hit a few buttons, then held the phone to his ear. “Hey-- yeah, I’m fine, but can you bring me a clean shirt, a damp rag, a vile of V, and another round of bullets?...... In my bag.....Just outside the parking lot. Okay, thanks.” He hung up, then looked to Saoirse, who was looking better every second. At least his blood had one positive effect. Nic mentally scolded himself for not knowing the effects before hand, but he’d never considered allowing a vampire to feed off him either. “When she comes out, let me know if you can hear her thoughts.”
Oh, Jesus. He was serious. Saoirse didn’t want to hear anybody’s thoughts. She had a hard enough time with her mental filter just in response to the shit people actually said. “I can block it out, right?” she asked. “You told me once - you can block it out, if you want to. So if I want to, I can block it out.” That was an awesome theory. She hoped it was a good one.
“Um, maybe?” Nic said, wanting to be optimistic, but not wanting to lie to her either. Some people were hard to block out. Sometimes he couldn’t help it. Most of the time, Nic had control over his powers, but that was after years of practice. Saoirse had just been given them, and that didn’t necessarily mean she could control them. “I’m really hoping it’s just me you can hear, since it’s me you drank from, but I could be wrong.”
Zania stepped outside Heme a moment later, looking around to check for any signs of danger. She was good in a fight, but not so much when she was caught off guard. “We heard gunshots, but Heme’s kind of lacking in windows,” Zania said as she approached Nic and Saoirse. It was moments like these that she was completely serious, toned down from her usual self but twice as dangerous. “What happened?” she asked, looking from Nic to Saoirse and back again before her eyes focused on the demon corpse. “Sweet,” she grinned, then removed a needle from her bag before handing it over to Nic. If a dead demon was just lying around, then the blood was for the taking.
Saoirse braced herself for the worst, and damn near let out a sigh of relief when she ‘heard’ nothing out of Zania. Unless the woman’s head was just spectacularly empty, which would have been one hell of a skill on a day like today. Saoirse watched Zania appraise the demon, and did so herself - albeit wistfully. “Those fuckers taste so much better than they look,” she sighed. “But their blood is dangerous. Last time it did some heavy shit to me. I don’t know why it didn’t today.” Thank God it didn’t, though. She really didn’t need another set of crazy blood effects to deal with.
“Different type of demon, probably,” Zania said as she knelt beside the demon and began drawing it’s blood. Demon blood was useful in spells, but was hard to come by. They didn’t exactly give it away and Zania didn’t want to cross one just for the blood. She’d take as much as she could, since she didn’t know when she’d ever get more off the black market.
“You’re lucky it didn’t, cause I can’t imagine what the combination of demon blood and necromancer blood would do to a person,” Nic said as he pulled his shirt over his head. If he was going to go back in Heme, he didn’t need to smell like unfamiliar blood. That would attract more attention than he wanted to deal with. Once his shirt was off, he dug the vial of vampire blood out of Zania’s purse, opened it, and dabbed a little on the wound on his neck. Better than a band-aid. Once the wound had healed, he wiped off all the blood with the rag and pulled on a clean shirt. “Seer got attacked and I shot the demon, but she needed blood too soon to get her inside,” he said by way of explanation to Zania. She nodded to herself, finished drawing the blood and rose to her feet. “I’ll tell ‘em you’re both okay then,” she said as she took her purse back from Nic. After eyeing them both once more, just to assure herself they were fine, she headed back inside.
“So?” Nic said, looking over at Soairse. Hopefully she couldn’t hear inside Zania’s head. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what she might find there.
Oh, hell, Gray was going to... well, Saoirse didn’t know what Gray was going to do, but she had a feeling it was going to involve Looks. “Don’t tell Gray,” she said, pointing to Zania. “I’ll tell him myself when I get back in there.” Which would probably have to be soon. People talked. She leaned back against the tree again as Zania walked away, and shook her head. “Nothing,” she answered. “So... maybe it’s just you?” That wasn’t so bad. That was something she could live with. And it had to be temporary, right? If things got too weird, well, she and Nic just stayed at opposite ends of Heme for a day or so. The thought brought her some small comfort.
Nic didn’t know what Zania would tell them, but hopefully it was just enough to keep people from worrying. With all that was going on, gunshots sent people into even more of a panic than before. “If it’s just me, then we just give each other some space,” Nic nodded. “I think it should wear off like the effects of any other type of blood. How long does that sort of thing usually last?” He didn’t even realize he was picking up on her thoughts now, having opened himself up to it during the fight. It was probably creating some kind of weird inner loop, where he could hear her and she could hear him hearing her... Nic took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind, for her sake as much as his own. “How do you feel? Wanna head inside?”
Saoirse thought a little bit about the question and initially only shrugged faintly. Honestly, it took some thinking. She always drank fae blood, so she never noticed those effects wearing off. Other than that, there weren’t many special types she favored. Sometimes on Friday nights she’d go for air elemental before a performance, or merfolk on the rare occasion it was donated and she felt like treating herself to the expense. “It depends on how much I drink,” she finally said. “It’s different in a glass, because I know exactly what I had. I have no idea how much of your blood I drank. Not too much, I hope.” With that said, she smiled sheepishly. “I really hope. Thank you. Are you alright?” At the question, she shook her head. “A few minutes more. And when we go in, we should use the back door.” She knew she’d make a beeline for the bathroom. She was a bloody mess.
“What does air elemental blood do?” Nic asked, picking up the thought from her head. That wasn’t something he was good at knowing, not like Zania did. He did know that fae blood allowed easier living in sunlight, though. “I’m fine,” he smiled. “I’ve lost more before, and in a much less pleasant manner.” He’d like to say that he’d been shot as a cop, but that wasn’t the case. Nic’s life was far from normal now and had never really ever been to begin with. “Let’s at least move closer to Heme,” he said, moving to offer her a hand to her feet. “There might be more out there and if they pick up the scent of this one, I want some distance between us and them.” Even if he had to carry her, which he didn’t think she’d allow.
Saoirse found that Nic responding to her thoughts didn’t bother her as much, knowing it worked both ways. It was still kind of creepy, though. It felt invasive. Her house had a psychic ability of their own, and she always shielded her empathy for that reason. “It’s kind of a brain booster. Heightens creativity, that kind of thing.” She waved off his hand and got to her feet - come on, who was the vampire, here? - nodding in agreement as she did. “I don’t exactly call needing blood to heal pleasant,” she pointed out with a smirk. She was trying not to think about that part, really. If she thought too much...yeah, bad memories.
“Sorry,” Nic said with a sheepish smile. “I’m normally better about turning it off and not listening to friends, but I’m having trouble at the moment.” It was like their minds were connected in a way that he’d never really experienced. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but unusual, being able to read her mind as she read his. “Okay, but it was my choice to offer it, and something good came of it, so we’re all good.” Being shot or stabbed was infinitely worse. He’d also add that anything that erotic couldn’t be horribly bad, but he didn’t think Saoirse would appreciate it. Nic knew better than to flirt with his friends, especially those that were coworkers and vampires. “It’d be cool if there was something like blood effects that humans could drink-- I mean with the heightening creativity and all.”
Even if Nic didn’t say it, Saoirse still heard it. Had she still been human, she would have blushed. That was one function she certainly didn’t miss. At least he didn’t seem to mind, though she found herself momentarily at a loss for words. “You don’t have to apologize,” she said. “It might be the blood, and I owe you one on that anyway. A little brainshare is the least I can do.” Very least. She’d have to make up for it somehow, someday.
Nic wasn’t used to the brainshare, at least not with it going both ways. The only other time he’d run into it was with the other necromancer who was a general telepath as well, and that guy had been an ass. Nic had all but run away in an attempt to remove the intrusion. Having Saoirse in his head was far better by comparison. “I just have no idea what you’re seeing or hearing or how intense it is,” Nic said. “It’s not exactly the best way to get to know me better, but it’s probably the most truthful.”
Saoirse smiled at the thought. “That it is,” she said. “It still feels like an intrusion. Knowing things I’m not supposed to know. People should be allowed privacy in their own head, I guess. Not that I have any big secrets.” With every step closer to Heme, Saoirse could hear the crowd of people talking animatedly inside the walls. Only after a few moments did she realize that a lot of what she was hearing was inside her own head. Shit. “It’s not just you. I’m hearing others.”
“Yeah, but I might,” Nic said, smiling because it was all he could do to hide it. There were loads of things floating around in his mind that he’d rather Saoirse not know and he did his best not to think of them. Not only would he lose a friend, but he’d probably be turned over to the police. “Others? Like... everyone else?” But she hadn’t heard Zania. “Or just vampires?” It seemed like an odd question, but that was all he heard, so that might be the case.
Saoirse tried to focus on just a couple of voices out of the group, so that she was hearing actual words rather than just a general buzzing of noise. She hated doing that. Again, it felt like intruding. She picked up a little on Navi and immediately fled mentally in the other direction. Another vampire was thinking that in return for all this free shelter, the humans really ought to offer a few donations, and was rather miffed at being told by other vampires to keep his stupid mouth shut when he suggested it. “I think it’s just vampires. Can I block it out? How do I try?” It didn’t seem like it should be that hard a concept. Azrael vamps had empathy, and it literally worked like a mental switch. It had taken a bit of figuring out in the beginning, but now Saoirse didn’t even have to concentrate on activating it on or off.
“I’m not sure,” Nic said. “I’ve always had to make a conscious effort to listen. If I don’t, then it’s quiet, even if there are vampires around.” He’d had to learn how to read vampire’s minds, even if it came easily to him now. It wasn’t something that just happened, unlike a regular psychic. Nic could turn it on and off, which was something he’d always been thankful for. “Maybe just... treat it like you would background noise. Don’t make an effort to focus on anything, and then it fades out.” It sounded like a good idea, even if Nic didn’t know how well it would work. It was how he stopped listening, but it might be different for Saoirse. If it was, then they’d try something else.
Saoirse nodded and simply tried to do that, though the whole thing still left her a little nervous. She sighed and sat down in the parking lot, leaning back against the wall of Heme. She was probably quite the sight, but who was likely to be out to see her anyway? The buzzing of voices was... annoying. She didn’t think she was capable of getting headaches anymore, but if she was? This was sure to bring one on. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
Nic took a seat beside her, unwilling to leave her outside. There was no rush to hurry in, not when it would probably make the voices louder in her head. “If you can’t block them out, focus on me,” he suggested. “Most of the time I can’t focus on more than one person at a time, but if I open myself up to it, I’ll hear more than I want to. If you focus, then the other voices seem quieter.” Like when you’re talking to someone in a crowded restaurant-- the other people don’t go away, but you stop listening to them. He paused, trying to think up something to talk about that would take her mind off her current state. “Anything new in your life?”
That seemed like a good idea, but Saoirse had trouble talking herself into it. She couldn’t get past the worry that she’d hear more than Nic wanted her to, and the very idea made her feel bad. It was easier when he thought directly at her like that - it made it impossible to do anything but focus on him. His voice was so much louder. It drowned everything else out. She smiled softly at him, feeling a lot of gratitude mingled with her guilt. “I’m a very boring vampire, Nic,” she reminded him. “I work, I go to school... I dreamwalk still. It’s kind of addicting. I try not to see anything too personal, though.” Again, she stuck to driving away nightmares. It made her feel better. “How about you?” He’d been working at Heme for a while now, but they rarely had time to talk when they were both at work. They worked at different parts of the bar, anyway, but it was good to see him more often.
“I try to be boring,” he said with a small laugh. When Nic’s life wasn’t boring, it was completely out of control. Saoirse didn’t need to know what that meant, so Nic picked something to focus on, Bianca being the first thing that came to mind. His lip still hurt, dammit. If he had any skill in white magic, he’d have healed it already. Maybe she wasn’t a good topic of conversation or thought. “Zania’s trying to talk me into singing lead for our band. I’m trying to think of a good reason not to be. Though with the other half in New York, it’s not like we perform all that often.” Even though he wasn’t really comfortable singing out loud at the moment, he could hear the song in his head, something for Saoirse to listen to as an example.
Saoirse picked up stray thoughts about a girl named Bianca - not all of them were very coherent, and in a lot of cases it was more images than anything else. Something he should have healed? “Did something happen with a girl?” Prying, maybe, but she couldn’t help it. It was in her head. She smiled softly again as music filled her head, that at least being a topic she was more than comfortable with. “Why don’t you want to?”
Nic knew how this worked, since he did it himself. Once you saw something, it was hard to ignore it, even if you weren’t meant to see it in the first place. Saoirse was a friend, though, and not at all in control of what she could see or hear. Telling her wouldn’t hurt, unless she laughed at him. “I met another necromancer. One that hates supernaturals, and didn’t know what she was till I told her. I was trying to help her, but... all that really did was piss her off.” Nic sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he thought back on the night in the graveyard, where he’d taught her how to animate a dead animal. She’d have been impressed with herself, if she wasn’t so disgusted. “To get back at me, she led me on. When I kissed her goodnight, she bit me hard enough to draw blood.” Remembering it, Nic could almost taste the blood in his mouth. He could still feel the teeth marks. “And I don’t want to perform because...” Butterflies stirred in his stomach, just a hint of the feeling he got before taking the microphone in front of a crowd. “It’s a little too much like baring your soul to an audience. What if I suck? I don’t want to be laughed at.”
Frowning at the explanation and the coupling images (those were a lot easier to get used to than she would have imagined, maybe because she was already such a visual person), Saoirse almost asked if he was sure she didn’t just... like it rough. She immediately decided better of it, reminded herself not to be a dumbass, and responded. “She sounds like a really messed up chick,” she decided. “One you’re probably a lot better off without. Her baggage about not being able to deal with what she is isn’t your problem.” She didn’t like the way thinking about biting someone’s lip until they bled made her practically salivate, but... vampire instincts. They were a bitch. She focused on Nic’s answer, and shrugged. “People who go to bars to see live music are usually drunk by the time the band takes the stage. It’s good practice for building up confidence. If you suck, who cares? Who’s gonna know. If someone laughs at you, well, you make a dead deer take a nap on their car. Problem solved.”
Saoirse didn’t ask it, but Nic heard it, and it immediately pulled a laugh out of him. His memory jumped back to that night, giving her a better idea of exactly how it had gone down, and he shook his head, grinning. “I know the difference, I promise.” Rough he could handle; mean he could not. And Bianca would get what was coming to her, that he knew for sure. She’d regret the day she messed with a Castalia. “I like the way you think,” he smiled. An asshole who came back to his car to find a dead deer on it might not connect it to Nic, but it would sure make him feel better. “I can get myself on stage if I’ve had enough to drink, so maybe I just need to start small. Tell ‘em if they want me on lead vocals, we’re gonna have to do smaller shows for a while. Maybe that would work.” Like she said, it might build up his confidence. “How did you get comfortable performing?”
Okay, the visual definitely made things clear. Saoirse winced faintly. “Definitely better off,” she confirmed. It was a good thing Saoirse didn’t recognize the girl. Otherwise she knew she’d be too tempted to visit the brat’s dreams. That would not be good. “I was always comfortable,” she answered. “Music’s always been my thing. I sang before I could talk. I couldn’t wait to get on a stage - any chance I had to perform I was all over, no matter how small. I’ve had friends with stage fright before, though. You can overcome it.”
If you run across her, have at it. If Nic could hunt Bianca down in her dreams, he would have, but his skills lied elsewhere. On the plus side, curses tended to be plenty effective. “You sound like Zan,” he said. “She’s one of those that never stops performing, on or off stage. I guess I’m just not used to having that many people focused on me.” He’d always been in the background, always the last in the family line. Nic was comfortable with it and being shoved to the front brought out nerves he was unfamiliar with. “What’s your favorite instrument to play?”
Saoirse smirked at Nic’s voice in her head. It would be a temptation hard to avoid. She considered it a personal triumph, one that spoke heavily to her maturity, that she hadn’t tortured Graham in his sleep after their last encounter. She wasn’t as angry anymore as she used to be, though. Maybe things with Gray had helped soothe her hurt and anger without realizing it. “It depends on my mood,” she answered. “Everything has such a different feel. I couldn’t pick one.”
Graham. Nic knew that name. Why did he know that name? He didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t know it after all. But Grayson, yes, he knew his boss, and he pointedly decided not to see where that train of thought took her. If Grayson was doing something to help Saoirse... It really was none of his business. “Well, which would you be in the mood for now?” he asked.
“The piano,” Saoirse answered. “But only because it takes the least amount of concentration from me. Something tells me I’d have a very difficult time with it with that background buzzing in my head.” Which was still there, but as long as she kept busy at least it wasn’t the center of her focus. Maybe she could find another bloodtype to chill her out. Damn, she wished she could sleep. Sleeping this off would have been wonderful.
“I dunno. You’re in my head, so maybe if you focused on playing something I know your mind wouldn’t wander off. Sometimes you get so pulled into one person’s thoughts that the other’s aren’t as distracting.” It would certainly be an interesting experiment, allowing her to use his mind like a sheet of music. She wasn’t a Killjoy, so she probably didn’t know the songs from anywhere else, but Nic was willing to bet she could keep up just fine.
“I don’t know that I’d want to chance it right now, Nic,” Saoirse said, apologetically. “I don’t know if it’d be a good idea to do something to draw more attention to myself - have thoughts actually about me in the mix at all. My emotions and moods are too jumpy these days without adding those kinds of experiments in the mix. I think when I go back in there, I’ll just see if Gray can give me some simple task in the back or his office to keep me away from others. Another time, maybe?”
“‘Course,” he smiled. He hadn’t thought about it drawing attention to her and how much harder that might make it. Damn. There had to be something she could do, though of all places for her to be Heme might be the hardest to deal with. It was frustrating to know that his attempt to help her had caused this much trouble. “Do you want me to run in and get you a drink? Maybe something soothing?” Which one was that again?
“They don’t let you take blood out of the bar,” she pointed out with a grin. “I’ll be fine. You did help me. I just need to be chill right now. You’ve had a lot longer to get used to this kind of thing than I have,” she added, with a soft chuckle. There was definite comfort in knowing it would go away. It had to. She’d never heard of blood giving a permanent affect. It didn’t work that way.
What if it’s not in the bar? He knew other places to get blood, if she wanted it, even if it was a little less than legal. They’d just killed a demon in the parking lot, though, so legal wasn’t really on his list of worries. “It’s kinda funny-- I didn’t really know I could hear vampires until recently, since they weren’t exactly advertising what they were. I just knew sometimes I heard voices in crowds that I couldn’t match with a moving mouth.”
The idea of obtaining blood in any ‘less than legal’ way was such a shocking one to Saoirse that she sat up a little straighter, a momentarily horrified look on her face. “Absolutely not,” she answered, unable to keep that to her thoughts. She had every right to be afraid, with her house. She’d witnessed punishments before - even for lesser offences. She was of no mind to ever bring the eye of the elders back to her again. She swallowed hard and tried to release the idea, to let it fade from her mind. It was still greatly disturbing - Nic had definitely hit upon one of Saoirse’s sore spots. “That would be frustrating,” she gave, attempting to calm her nerves. “How long did it take you to figure it out? After the Light?”
Nic’s immediate reaction was to snicker at her reaction, but upon sensing her inner thoughts he quieted down. Saoirse was not only appalled, she was afraid, and that wasn’t something Nic ran in to often. With all that he’d experienced in life, a little blood exchange seemed like nothing. Hell, was it even illegal? Probably not, if the source had given it freely. Unfortunately, that was the bit he couldn’t guarantee. “My apologies. I only meant to help,” he said quietly, then let it go, since that seemed to be what she wished. “It was after the Light, when vampires began to gather together. My first experience at a vampire bar made it very clear what I could do, and from there I started to practice.”
Saoirse didn’t appreciate being snickered at, but she was trying not to be annoyed. Friends that saved your life were allowed a little wiggle room - especially considering it wasn’t like the rules of her house were known by all. “Any association with hunters is against the rules for my house,” she said. “And it’s a rule that comes with some very harsh punishments. Fang removal is standard and required for the most minimal of offenses, and hunter association isn’t what they consider minimal. The one time I ever encountered a hunter, I tried desperately to kill him, because that’s basically the only acceptable reaction for us. I could never take blood if I couldn’t verify exactly where it’s coming from, and that it was given freely. There are no exceptions,” she explained, gently. If nothing else, it would help explain why she was the way she was. There were a lot of things Saoirse simply wouldn’t do - wouldn’t even consider. She was always trying to present a good image for vampires in public, and Nic had probably noticed that long ago.
Nic had known Saoirse was a good girl, and definitely a good vampire, from the start, but he’d never considered part of the reason to be out of fear. Certainly, a good part of that was her personality, but now he was learning it was more than that-- there were consequences otherwise. In some ways, he related, having his own set of rules he had to follow, but the rules his family imposed were nothing like the law. Loyalty was crucial, and so long as you were loyal to the family, the rest could be compromised. “I’m not a hunter,” he said, hoping that might ease her mind. He knew one, of course, as did she, but he wasn’t going to point out who if she hadn’t already figured it out. “I’m just... willing to go to whatever means necessary to help... my friends.” Maybe that meant too much at times, but Nic couldn’t seem to help it. Saoirse had made his list, and hopefully that wouldn’t put her in a position to get punished, otherwise he’d back off as fast as he could.
Ugh, this brainshare link needed to be cut, and cut soon. Saoirse was trying not to listen, but she still heard Nic strongly. He knew a hunter, and so did she? She was very sure she did not want to know. I didn’t hear that, and I don’t want to. Think about something else, she thought, knowing he would hear. “Well, now you know, and no harm done,” she said, managing a small smile. When she went inside, she would just try and... forget that line of thought. Sure, she could do that.
He took a deep breath and looked up at the night sky, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette in the process. The one he’d started earlier had been dropped before he’d ever gotten a good drag in and now he really needed one. Trying. Trying. It’s hard not to think. It was probably good practice for the next time he ran into a psychic, but Nic wasn’t prepared to deal with friends who shouldn’t know too much. “Give me something to talk about. Anything,” Nic said, desperate to get off the subject that could easily dominate his thoughts.
There was nothing like trying not to think. The one thing you weren’t supposed to think about became the hardest thing not to think about. Saoirse chuckled softly and shook her head. “We suck at this,” she said, leaning back against the wall again. “I’m sorry,” she added, because she really was. She was such a fail-vampire. She was going to ask Gray to teach her how to fight. “Maybe we should call it a night.”
“You’re not a fail vampire,” Nic told her, smiling faintly. “You’re just a good person. And I’m... not always. And I don’t want to get you in trouble.” She should learn to fight, just because it would be a good thing for her to know. Demons weren’t the only thing out there that could hurt her and she’d be better off if she knew how to take them down. “If you ever want to spar with a necromancer, let me know,” he grinned. That would be an interesting fight, but only one he could comfortably have with her permission. Saoirse was someone he would never take advantage of otherwise. “Yeah, we can head inside. Maybe if you put on headphones in the back room you can drown out the rest of us.” Us being him and the vampires. Nic never thought they’d be grouped together, but there you go.
Saoirse grinned. “I’ll take you up on that when I can’t hear your thoughts, too,” she said. Sure, Nic would still be able to hear hers, but she was the one that would need the practice, so she didn’t mind that. “Otherwise it’ll probably end up just the two of us trying to out-think the other, and my brain might get a cramp.” She chuckled softly as she climbed to her feet, and smiled again at Nic. “Thanks. Really. I appreciate what you did.”
“Very true,” he grinned. He could just imagine how crazy it would be trying to make a move before the other heard that same thought go through. It took out the whole ‘try to read your opponent’ and made it into trying to act before thinking. Since that would push them both into instinct, it was probably a bad idea-- Nic didn’t want one of them getting killed. “You’re welcome,” he said, standing up as well and opening the door for her. “Call it a favor. If I’m ever being attacked by a demon, I hope you’d do the same.”
“Of course I would,” she promised, still grinning as she grabbed her bag. She shook her head as Nic opened the door. “Go ahead. I’m going in back and making a beeline for the little vampire girl’s room. Probably not good for the bloody mess to come in through the front door.” She was not encouraged by the way the voices in her head got louder when the door opened, but... she’d figure a way to deal. She could do this. She’d managed not to uncover Nic’s secrets, and that had apparently been a close call, so apparently she could handle anything.