[ he regards the space with a critical eye, immediately taking note of the lack of furnishings and the mostly untouched dust. as far as safe houses go, it's not the least welcoming one he's stepped into, but it's close. he follows larus' lead and sheds his own coat, dusting off the back of a chair before draping it across the wood, taking care that none of his knives fall out of their hiding places. larus is not interested in killing him. that much is clear. ]
There are less and less of us. [ a grim truth, but one he has to face. ] I have a group. Somewhat. I'm more the one that brings people together and provides them with some sort of stability so that they might endeavor to carve out a life again. If it can be called that. I have a small team of people I work with, but none of them are like you.
[ a vampire, and one that seems to put effort into tempering his bloodlust, no less. larus is far across the room by now, putting an unnecessary amount of space between them. or perhaps it is necessary, for him.
casimir sets off further into the house, which he finds is in the same disappointing state. he pauses at the bed, pressing a hand to the mattress and pulling a face when the springs squeak. ]
Well. You couldn't have chosen a less comfortable place if you tried. [ he turns, smiling again. ] Would you like to share the bed? Don't say no. There's only one, and I won't have you on the floor.
[ gingerly, he crawls onto the small mattress, resting his back against the wall. he strips off his gloves, the knuckles on his right hand bruised, leaving the still-warm leather carelessly in his lap. ]
larus frowns a little harder as casimir speaks, uncertain as to why he's explaining all of this to him. there have been moments where a coven of vampires had lured unsuspecting humans in like this. pretended to be alone, uninterested. befriended them and tried to help them as much as they could for a day or two before flipping the switch and allowing the rest of the group to descend upon them. he isn't interested in that method of hunting, and he certainly isn't interested enough in trying to attack casimir to feed from him either. his appetite might say otherwise, but it's not bad enough that he has to resort to something like that. ]
You mean you're the leader. [ he only needs to speak plainly to him, and frankly, larus doesn't care about it. ] If you were working, I hope none of your group were with you. They're probably already dead if they were.
[ he talks as he follows, keeping a safe distance between him and casimir. it also gives him a chance to wipe some of the blood from his chin since it's still damp, and while casimir helps himself to the bed, larus opens a dresser to tug out one of the few items of clothing stashed in the top drawer.
there's absolutely no modesty as he strips, back turned away and slipping on the t-shirt so he can toss the one he'd been wearing in the trash. if another vampire finds it, they'll track him down, and that's the last thing he wants. he's too tired to explain why he's lurking in a territory he shouldn't even be in. ]
You don't know a lot about vampires, do you? [ the question is flat but jeering all the same. and facing casimir once more, he moves to the opposite side of the bed to sit. ] I don't need to sleep, but you should. [ a pause, and his eyes fall to casimir's knuckles, gesturing with the slightest tilt of his head. ] What did you do?
[ he's expecting something ridiculous already. like punching a vampire. ]
I prefer... guiding force, maybe. The goal isn't to sustain leadership over anyone. It's to foster self-sufficiency. They might need rescuing or a bit of hand-holding at the start, but eventually they'll have to stand on their own two feet. At least until we come up with a more permanent solution to the present condition. And don't worry — my team isn't dying tonight, either.
[ casimir's brows tick up slightly as he watches larus undress, taking in the planes of his body and the exquisite lines of muscle. he trusts him enough that he doesn't think larus will attempt to kill him in the next few hours. but that's as far as it goes. still, if he's going to put on a show, he has no problem playing the part of a rapt audience. he purses his lips around a low whistle. ]
Maybe I just wanted the company of a warm body. [ a beat. ] Or a cold one. That would be a new experience.
[ he lifts his knuckles, surveying the mottled bruises. he would punch a vampire, for the record. ]
This came from a tree. I was angry. Cliché, isn't it? [ he leans over, planting both hands on the mattress as he brings his chin to larus' shoulder, hovering just above making contact. ] Don't you ever get that feeling where you know you're going to explode if you don't do something? Hit something. Break something. Maybe in your case, bite something? I don't revel in violence, but sometimes I think my knives need a taste of blood. Do you feel that way?
[ self-sufficiency is a pipe dream, he wants to say. at least when the world is the way that it is, but where would that kind of argument get him?
anyway, this human apparently likes to talk – or maybe it's hear the sound of his own voice – and that's fine with him. it means he doesn't have to say much in return and only needs to respond when prompted. it allows him a moment to reset, ignoring the whistle and then the sudden shift in proximity where he can practically taste the beat of his heart in his mouth. he can smell him too, the scent of something deep and earthy beneath the sweat and sloughed emotions that continue to hang over him. adrenaline, fear, excitement, amusement. larus tries to focus on saying anything to keep his mind from wandering too far. ]
Then I hope you find them. [ a blatant pause. ] If they're not dead.
[ and while he's at it, he maneuvers away from him so there's still some vague illusion of space separating him. until he takes it upon himself to touch casimir instead—just the edge of his thumb over the swell of his knuckles. like he's feeling the bruise. like he can imagine what had sparked his frustration in the first place. ]
I can't say I've ever let something like that build in me before. [ once, a long time ago. then sun had turned him, and that had been that. ] I do things when necessary. I hit, I break, I kill — it doesn't matter to me since it's all the same. [ a feigned breath, and he drops his hand into his lap. ] I'm guessing you beat the tree and won.
[ a once in a lifetime joke that's offered with the slightest smile. ]
They're not dead. [ a hint of steel appears in his tone when he says it this time, his gray eyes meeting larus' as if to cement the truth of this statement. then his mouth curves into a smile, his features relaxing. ] You can meet them later.
[ the gentle brush isn't enough to truly delve into larus' mind, instead just feeling a faint wash of hunger prickle over his skin. it's expected for a vampire. casimir doesn't particularly like reading the thoughts of the dead, most of their minds having been debased by the twin traumas of death and bloodlust, but there's a guise of calm in larus, a shield so carefully placed that he almost doesn't notice how thin it is. almost. ]
Hit, break, kill. Can fuck be added to your list? [ he grins, sitting back against the wall and fluidly twirling a small blade over his bruised knuckles and between his fingers, watching as the silver glints in the shadows. ] I do look better than the tree. Than all trees, really.
[ he lapses into silence until his blade stills, held between two fingers as his eyes lift to the shuttered windows. ]
Why are you alone? [ he crosses his legs, leaning forward as he rests his hands over his knees. ] Why not with your nest? I told you what I was doing. It's only polite to return the favor.
[ their eyes only meet briefly, but it's mostly to show his displeasure.
he doesn't actually want to meet anyone—now or later. but if it's something that casimir needs to believe, then larus isn't going to correct him. there are other things to focus on anyway, unsure how to take that question – is fucking added to the list? – and remaining silent about it as he watches him. besides, humans and their weapons are oddly funny to him now, like they're searching for some sort of leverage where there is none. casimir makes it look like an art, a skill that might have been useful had a blade been any danger to a vampire. ]
I'm not adding anything to the list. [ not with him. not now. larus moves back, settling into a comfortable lean that isn't directed towards casimir. ] And there is no nest. I'm alone because I like it that way.
[ which actually says nothing about what he's doing, and being honest like that, with a stranger... well, it shouldn't matter. there's a higher chance of casimir dying once he steps outside the door when night falls than spilling whatever secrets larus harbors. so, he shakes his head a little. ]
I'm looking for someone – a vampire. [ and for even more clarification: ] I want to kill him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
There are less and less of us. [ a grim truth, but one he has to face. ] I have a group. Somewhat. I'm more the one that brings people together and provides them with some sort of stability so that they might endeavor to carve out a life again. If it can be called that. I have a small team of people I work with, but none of them are like you.
[ a vampire, and one that seems to put effort into tempering his bloodlust, no less. larus is far across the room by now, putting an unnecessary amount of space between them. or perhaps it is necessary, for him.
casimir sets off further into the house, which he finds is in the same disappointing state. he pauses at the bed, pressing a hand to the mattress and pulling a face when the springs squeak. ]
Well. You couldn't have chosen a less comfortable place if you tried. [ he turns, smiling again. ] Would you like to share the bed? Don't say no. There's only one, and I won't have you on the floor.
[ gingerly, he crawls onto the small mattress, resting his back against the wall. he strips off his gloves, the knuckles on his right hand bruised, leaving the still-warm leather carelessly in his lap. ]
I won't touch you. Not unless you want me to.
no subject
larus frowns a little harder as casimir speaks, uncertain as to why he's explaining all of this to him. there have been moments where a coven of vampires had lured unsuspecting humans in like this. pretended to be alone, uninterested. befriended them and tried to help them as much as they could for a day or two before flipping the switch and allowing the rest of the group to descend upon them. he isn't interested in that method of hunting, and he certainly isn't interested enough in trying to attack casimir to feed from him either. his appetite might say otherwise, but it's not bad enough that he has to resort to something like that. ]
You mean you're the leader. [ he only needs to speak plainly to him, and frankly, larus doesn't care about it. ] If you were working, I hope none of your group were with you. They're probably already dead if they were.
[ he talks as he follows, keeping a safe distance between him and casimir. it also gives him a chance to wipe some of the blood from his chin since it's still damp, and while casimir helps himself to the bed, larus opens a dresser to tug out one of the few items of clothing stashed in the top drawer.
there's absolutely no modesty as he strips, back turned away and slipping on the t-shirt so he can toss the one he'd been wearing in the trash. if another vampire finds it, they'll track him down, and that's the last thing he wants. he's too tired to explain why he's lurking in a territory he shouldn't even be in. ]
You don't know a lot about vampires, do you? [ the question is flat but jeering all the same. and facing casimir once more, he moves to the opposite side of the bed to sit. ] I don't need to sleep, but you should. [ a pause, and his eyes fall to casimir's knuckles, gesturing with the slightest tilt of his head. ] What did you do?
[ he's expecting something ridiculous already. like punching a vampire. ]
no subject
I prefer... guiding force, maybe. The goal isn't to sustain leadership over anyone. It's to foster self-sufficiency. They might need rescuing or a bit of hand-holding at the start, but eventually they'll have to stand on their own two feet. At least until we come up with a more permanent solution to the present condition. And don't worry — my team isn't dying tonight, either.
[ casimir's brows tick up slightly as he watches larus undress, taking in the planes of his body and the exquisite lines of muscle. he trusts him enough that he doesn't think larus will attempt to kill him in the next few hours. but that's as far as it goes. still, if he's going to put on a show, he has no problem playing the part of a rapt audience. he purses his lips around a low whistle. ]
Maybe I just wanted the company of a warm body. [ a beat. ] Or a cold one. That would be a new experience.
[ he lifts his knuckles, surveying the mottled bruises. he would punch a vampire, for the record. ]
This came from a tree. I was angry. Cliché, isn't it? [ he leans over, planting both hands on the mattress as he brings his chin to larus' shoulder, hovering just above making contact. ] Don't you ever get that feeling where you know you're going to explode if you don't do something? Hit something. Break something. Maybe in your case, bite something? I don't revel in violence, but sometimes I think my knives need a taste of blood. Do you feel that way?
no subject
anyway, this human apparently likes to talk – or maybe it's hear the sound of his own voice – and that's fine with him. it means he doesn't have to say much in return and only needs to respond when prompted. it allows him a moment to reset, ignoring the whistle and then the sudden shift in proximity where he can practically taste the beat of his heart in his mouth. he can smell him too, the scent of something deep and earthy beneath the sweat and sloughed emotions that continue to hang over him. adrenaline, fear, excitement, amusement. larus tries to focus on saying anything to keep his mind from wandering too far. ]
Then I hope you find them. [ a blatant pause. ] If they're not dead.
[ and while he's at it, he maneuvers away from him so there's still some vague illusion of space separating him. until he takes it upon himself to touch casimir instead—just the edge of his thumb over the swell of his knuckles. like he's feeling the bruise. like he can imagine what had sparked his frustration in the first place. ]
I can't say I've ever let something like that build in me before. [ once, a long time ago. then sun had turned him, and that had been that. ] I do things when necessary. I hit, I break, I kill — it doesn't matter to me since it's all the same. [ a feigned breath, and he drops his hand into his lap. ] I'm guessing you beat the tree and won.
[ a once in a lifetime joke that's offered with the slightest smile. ]
no subject
[ the gentle brush isn't enough to truly delve into larus' mind, instead just feeling a faint wash of hunger prickle over his skin. it's expected for a vampire. casimir doesn't particularly like reading the thoughts of the dead, most of their minds having been debased by the twin traumas of death and bloodlust, but there's a guise of calm in larus, a shield so carefully placed that he almost doesn't notice how thin it is. almost. ]
Hit, break, kill. Can fuck be added to your list? [ he grins, sitting back against the wall and fluidly twirling a small blade over his bruised knuckles and between his fingers, watching as the silver glints in the shadows. ] I do look better than the tree. Than all trees, really.
[ he lapses into silence until his blade stills, held between two fingers as his eyes lift to the shuttered windows. ]
Why are you alone? [ he crosses his legs, leaning forward as he rests his hands over his knees. ] Why not with your nest? I told you what I was doing. It's only polite to return the favor.
no subject
he doesn't actually want to meet anyone—now or later. but if it's something that casimir needs to believe, then larus isn't going to correct him. there are other things to focus on anyway, unsure how to take that question – is fucking added to the list? – and remaining silent about it as he watches him. besides, humans and their weapons are oddly funny to him now, like they're searching for some sort of leverage where there is none. casimir makes it look like an art, a skill that might have been useful had a blade been any danger to a vampire. ]
I'm not adding anything to the list. [ not with him. not now. larus moves back, settling into a comfortable lean that isn't directed towards casimir. ] And there is no nest. I'm alone because I like it that way.
[ which actually says nothing about what he's doing, and being honest like that, with a stranger... well, it shouldn't matter. there's a higher chance of casimir dying once he steps outside the door when night falls than spilling whatever secrets larus harbors. so, he shakes his head a little. ]
I'm looking for someone – a vampire. [ and for even more clarification: ] I want to kill him.