Spontaneous Combustion [Grey]

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--


The Scene: Jesse and Grey sit on one of the beds in the bedroom of Larch Court – one having just returned from the Gangster raid, the other from work and training.


*Jesse Fforde places a palm on either side of Grey’s face, checking over her features. “Have you fed, Dove?”

<Grey> "No. Was I supposed to?" She murmured to him, those cheek bones looked just a bit sharper. “I`m okay."

*Jesse Fforde “Yes, Grey. Yes, you were supposed to,” he says, standing up, walking away and into the kitchen to find the blood bags that he needs in order to summon a few spirits.

<Grey> She flinched slightly, but never over his feeding. She frowned at his backside as he wandered off, unsure to thank him or stay quiet. But, she stayed quiet, her eyes watching him. Her apology died on her lips as she bit her teeth into the tip of her tongue.

*Jesse Fforde doesn't say anything else. He just has a disgruntled look written into his features - he's almost one hundred percent certain that they've had this conversation before. She has to feed. If she goes too long without it, she might lose control.

<Grey> She sits there, on the side of the bed, watching him. She had enough mind to kick off her boots after toming home. She gathered a deep breath, the skin between her eyebrows scrunched. She had just finished a shift and training. No doubt a little dirty, she plucked at the front of her slightly bloody shirt. In a fine coat of dust from the mausoleum, the frown was still upon her face. "I'm sorry...."

*Jesse Fforde is in similar disarray, after having just returned from the raid on the Gangsters. He's got a few odds and ends to add to his collection, a few things to sell, and a few things to hand to Velveteen. He's come in here to find Grey, first, though, before doing anything - including showering. He is similarly barefoot, but has bloodied clothes. "I've talked to you about this before. Every night, Grey. You should make time every night - even if it's just a blood bag. There's plenty in the fridge out there," he says, gesturing to the kitchen. "It takes five minutes."

<Grey> "I know." She didn't look at him then. No, she instead looked to her hands she had twisted up together in her lap. She looked to her fingernails, coated in dried guts and outlined by the oils she couldn't scrub off after work, even with the orange scented oil-lifter. She nodded, knowing where the kitchen was in Larch Court. And Jesse had, after all, taken the time out to first gently remind her. Then he had taken the time out to softly chastise her. Now, she could tell he was just plainly upset with her. "I'll try harder. Better." And she would. She knew she needed to. After all, Jesse was right. It took five minutes. Standing, she went to pull out some extra clothes from the shelving units she kept stock-piled.

*Jesse Fforde wanted to reach for her, to gently trail his fingers over her cheek and force her to look at him. So she could see he was angry only because he cared about her. But the moment to do so was lost as she stood, her back to him. He chewed on the inside of his lip. He'd been thinking about it, ever since their discussion... how long ago was it? Would it make a difference, if she were to feed from him? Would she be more willing to seek it out? Would be a five minutes that she'd look forward to, rather than forget about? He didn't bring it up. He'd explained the consequences. He wouldn't push. "You know why I'm upset, don't you?" he asked instead.

<Grey> "Because you don't want me to lose control." She spoke quietly to him. She reached into her piles of extra clothes. They weren't dresses. They weren't slacks and blouses. They were a few extra pair of jeans, a pair of clean yoga pants, a pile alone of underwear and a few bras. She pulled out a change of clothes, intent upon using the bathroom soon. "So I don't turn into one of those rabid vampires. The kind that can't make any good judgements." She turned back to him. She dropped the pile of clothing onto the bed. She knew he was unhappy with her or rather, with her habits. But, she was sure to keep her emotion even and calm.

*Jesse Fforde canted his head to the side. "Yes, that. But mainly because I care about you," he said, a little gentler now. The unhappiness was still clear in his eyes, but there was something different gleaming on the edges. A soft anxiety. "I don't want anything to happen... for you to do anything to make you regret," he says with a frown. Regret her own actions, feel guilt. Regret everything - him, all of it.

<Grey> She came around the side of the bed. Her movements were slow, deliberate... She lifted her palms to settle them against his chest. To curl them within the fabric of the shirt he was wearing. Obviously, she ignored the blood given she was coated in her own mess. "I don't regret anything. It would be my own fault, no? Not yours. I'm a big girl. I know better, right?" She questioned him softly, lifting a hand to his cheek.

*Jesse Fforde shook his head. "No, it wouldn't be my fault..." he said, referring to the act in particular. The slaughtering of innocents that might occur should she lose control - it wouldn't be pretty. "So you might not blame me but you might still have regrets. I don't...." he shook his head again, eyes still sharp. He was angry with himself, now, rather than with anything else. Grey was a big girl. She was independent. To tell her that he didn't want her to feel any pain at all, ever - it wasn't possible. He couldn't do that without stalking her every movement - without living inside of her head. So he didn't say it. Just shook his head and dropped his eyes to their hands - because he'd taken one of hers between his, rubbing at the blood smeared there.

<Grey> She curled her fingers around his. She kept his grip within her palm too. She loved him. She was intense upon that matter. She didn't want to disappoint him. And here, not only had she done that by not feeding a couple of nights in a row, but she had angered him. It wasn't her intention. She leaned into him, pushing herself gently into his space as his voice trailed off. "I don't regret anything either. Less you count the Oreos I had to give up." She was trying for a smile on his face. She tried to lighten the moment, brushing against him and squeezing his hand.

*Jesse Fforde might not have smiled, but his head did lift very suddenly, and his eyes were wide. He curled his fingers around Grey's and stood, tugging her out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen. "Have you tried? Eating or drinking anything other than blood, that is?" he asked, glancing back over his shoulder as he led her into the brightly-lit space. There were other Allurists in this place. Others of his progeny who could eat and drink. Surely there had to be something in the cupboards...

<Grey> "Jesse!" Grey said his name with a little bit of a laugh. It was soft and spontaneous. She was tugged after him and she hurried in the wake of his gait. "What? No! I... I haven't. You said only blood. And even the last blood from a human I threw up." That was par for the course, perhaps. She had heard about poisoned blood. Twice in one night, she had been sick off of humans she wouldn't suspect had poison in their systems. Perhaps, that was half the reasons he was leery from taking of them.

*Jesse Fforde paused all of a sudden in the kitchen, then. A new kind of anxiety had taken place, now. "Wait, what? You've been sick off humans...?" he asked, gazing steadfast into her eyes. "Did it... did it feel like it burned, on the way down? Like poison? Or did you just throw it up for no reason?" he continued. If the latter, then maybe she'd have no choice. Maybe the last time she bit him had been too much. Maybe her body was already turning her against human blood. He forgot all about the food for the time being - until he had his answer from her.

[Grey (DELETED 5068)]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--


<Grey> "While you were gone. For that... In the... You know, the realm." Grey suddenly looked a bit apprehensive. She hadn't told him. He was gone, and she remembered the night she spent curled up on their apartment's floor sicker than a dog. "At first I thought it was just from the stress. But it was painful. It hurt. Burned, yes. It was... disgusting. Clotted and smelled." She said, standing in the middle of the bright kitchen with him. Her eyes dilated with each blink as she squinted to him. "It.. I just... Twice in a row. It kind of turned me off." She fidgeted in front of him, plucking at the hem of his shirt she wore.

*Jesse Fforde sagged. Whether because he was relieved that it was just those fuckers with the poison blood, or whether it was disappointment that he couldn't tell her she'd have to feed from him from now on, he couldn't actually tell. So he pushed it aside. "Okay. Yeah, some of them know how to poison their blood. Don't ask me how," he said as he turned away to open one of the cupboards. Right there, in front of him - not Oreas, but some cookie of some description. He pulled out the packet and open it, putting it on the counter in front of Grey. "Try. You've already showed signs of being an Allurist. Every other Allurist I know, can eat. So you should try," he said.

<Grey> She could see her fiancé deflate just a bit. She regarded him slightly with wary. Of course, she had viewed the grocery store aisles with envy and frustration, but now he was standing next to her with a pack of open cookies and telling her to eat. She wasn't quite sure how to take that, given the fact she had been a Vampire for months now and had worked through most of her cravings by drowning herself in work and books. So, she just stared down at the packet of now open cookies and swallowed hard. An Allurist. He called her an Allurist. She wasn't quite sure even what that meant. She took one cookie out though, and held it in her hands. "But you said... before... We couldn't eat." She was, in fact, afraid to now.

‹Jesse Fforde› "I can't," he said. "The majority of us can't. But there are paths, see? I am what they call a Necromancer, and we figured that out due to the things that I was capable of, when I was first turned. You - you are able to boost me with extra confidence and skill. They like to call that 'inspiring'," he said. The ominous 'they'. Someone, at some point had put labels on these things. "That's the sign of an Allurist. And Allurists can eat. It should have twigged earlier, but I only really thought about it the other night when...." he paused, he shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I think you'll be able to. I don't... I don't know how easy it'll be to begin with? But you can try," he said.

<Grey> "You can't." She said, as if reiterating the very admission of his inability to eat food. Human food, she now liked to call it. She missed the taste of mashed potatoes and gravy. Of cookies. Of cheesecake and grilled cheese sandwiches. She didn't lament this to Jesse. He didn't deserve it. One of the hardest things was the food commercials on television and the way her mouth still watered for the items. Of course, it was her own struggle. She had not let Jesse in on the fact that she would go to the grocery store or a corner store sometimes after her shift at the garage and just pick items up to hear the crinkle of the wrapper and the weight of the food in her hands. Of course, he didn't need to know she had turned into a nutgall in that regards. However, that habit had faded over the months as she had come to terms with blood being her meals. Now, now she lifted the cookie to her lips. However, she couldn't really eat it. Not in that second. "I... I don't know." She said, almost pulling the cookie down. She was afraid... puking was awful.

‹Jesse Fforde› "There's no one else here, Grey. Just give it a go. For me?" Jesse said, brows arched inquisitively, eyes wide in a sort of puppy-dog stare. Of course he'd feel awful if she did throw it up - he might laugh, too. He didn't know until it happened. He was hoping, however, that it would just make her feel a little ill. He was hoping that she would be able to keep it down. He wondered how happy it would make her, if she realised that she could eat food still. If she could enjoy it. Taste it. Even if it didn't give her any of the sustenance it should. She could be the jealousy of all women worldwide - all those women who want only to be thin. She could eat what the **** she liked and never gain any weight. "Please?" he added again, just for that extra heft.

<Grey> She took a deep breath and raised the cookie again. She took a bite of it after parting her lips. The cookie-cracker like crust crunched between her teeth and it felt good to actually -chew- something again. All the while, after his please echoed in her ears, she made sure the cookie was all crunched before swallowing the sweetness down her throat. She waited while he watched, feeling itchy only from the dried blood and guts stuck to her front. Her eyes never left his curious, hopeful face and she felt no uncomfortable pain. There was no burning. There was no recoil of her stomach as there had been with the poisoned blood. She just leaned back against the counter, spent almost as if the night's activities were catching up on her. She felt the frustration from Jesse, the curiosity slowly taking its place. She felt tired and aching despite the heals he infused upon her flesh. She wanted only to sink into the tub and stay there. An eyebrow arched, curious if she passed the test. "It's... It is staying down." For that moment, at least. She felt okay.

‹Jesse Fforde› "Try eating the whole thing. Just one. One mouthful might not be enough to... if you eat the whole thing, and then we can see," he said, though there was a gleam in his eye and a grin curling at the edges of his lips. His eyes were still wide, searching Grey's features for her reaction. Was this good news for her? Was it a discovery that she liked? Or was it a bit too much to take in at the moment? He refrained from questioning too much - just in case. Just in case it took time. Just in case, in an hour, she threw it back up again and all their happiness was for nothing.

<Grey> She shoved the whole thing into her mouth. One big push and she chewed it up. The one bite lead to the rest of the round cookie, sweet with raspberries and some cream in the middle into her mouth. Eating in front of Jesse was nothing new. The man had watched her shovel food into her mouth like no tomorrow in the very beginning of their meetings. It was, almost, as if she felt she'd not get another meal. And she ate and ate. Never once complaining about her clothes or the taste of the food. Or if it was too hot or too cold. No, she ate in a hurried silence, choking sometimes on almost not being able to get the meals down fast enough before she would be afraid someone'd try to take it away from her. "We'll see." She said around the mouthful, bringing her hand up so the crumbs wouldn't be subjected to Jesse's review as she swallowed tightly, the crumbs scratching her throat. But, it felt so good to chew. She missed it. She missed it a lot.

‹Jesse Fforde› Jesse just grinned as he watched, leaning there against the counter. It did remind him of the time they'd first met - and of the countless times afterwards, where he'd sat and watched her eat. Surely, even then, she had to have some kind of inkling that something was wrong with him. A man who never ate - or at least never ate in company. But now it was all clear to her. And now... Jesse realised he'd quite enjoy being able to watch her eat again. It was something he'd enjoyed in the past, trying to imagine how each morsel might taste on her tongue. "How does it taste?" he asked her now, curious. Wanting to hear all about it, because he could never experience it again.

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Grey> She chewed slowly, watching him. Her bright blue eyes were at half-mast, taking in his excited look while she treasured the crunch of the cookie in her mouth. It was sweet upon her tongue, crumbly in the way any cookie should be. She let her mouth absorb the sweet flavor of the dried fruit mixed in and she gave a slow nod. "It tastes sweet. But, not too sweet. Not like an Oreo or a chocolate chip cookie. It's like a sweet cracker. Except it has raspberry inside of it. Flecks of dried fruit. Good... It is wonderful to chew something again." She explained to him, finishing the cookie and wiping her hand upon her pant leg. She edged closer to him. Not cautiously, but slowly.

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse tried to imagine what it might be like - as she explained, he summoned the taste memories. The touch memories - the texture of it on his tongue. He tried to remember, but realised now that he took most things for granted. He'd never really savoured food all too much - it wasn't ever something he'd been passionate about. It was just something that needed to be done in order to survive. He's far too addicted to the taste of blood to want to miss much. As Grey edged closer, Jesse straightened up. He'd been leaning against the bench with his whole body, his elbow keeping him balanced. Now his shoulders were straightened, his body erect as his hip leaned against the counter instead. He looked down at Grey curiously. "Good," he nodded.

<Grey> She needed to touch him. She wanted to be close to him. She knew he was upset with her. Irritated, she was certain. Although, with them, it never seemed like the irritation lasted too long. It never drove them apart for much more than a few minutes for tempers to calm. Her eyebrows drew together. Once again it scrunched the skin just at the middle of her forehead. She lifted her hand, playing it in the middle of his tacky t-shirt. "I'm sorry you can't eat. I know it's different... But still." Different for him because he enjoyed blood. She knew it was, in a way for some, like a fine wine. Since it turned her stomach recently, she had been a little adverse to try it... She ran so much on empty, missing a pint or two was typical for her.

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse smiled indulgently down at Grey, his palm turned outward so he could run his knuckles over the rise of her cheekbone. "I'm not. It's not something that bothers me," he said. "I do wonder how much time in a day we save by not having to go to the toilet," he joked. He didn't want her to feel bad because she could do something that he couldn't, especially when it wasn't something that bothered him overly much. His favourite food was probably a nice semi-raw steak - he got enough of that now, with the blood and the neck biting. It was perfectly fine. "I'm happy that you... well you seem to be able to," he said, voice rumbling in his throat, cracking every now and again on its way out.

<Grey> The very cheekbone that he was now touching had rounded out a bit more since his feeding her. That face took on a bit of a softer appearance now, knowing that she was full health. It was easy, in a way, for someone that saw her every day to tell if she was not caught up upon her pints and packs. She leaned further into him, pressing their abdomens together. Her hair had been up in a messy bun at the back of her head, tendrils flopped every which way as they escaped the band. She gave a roll of her shoulders and a deep breath to him. "Yes, I'm sure that is a time saver. So much less messy after all. Germs and the like. Much more time to spend in the tub, no?" She arched a brow his way.

<Jesse Fforde> Grey's arched brow was echoed on Jesse's features; he resisted the urge to pull the band from her hair. One day she'd probably cut all her hair off because she was sick of having it out all the time; there had to be a reason why she liked to tie it up. "Was that a hint?" he asked. The two of them were in quite a state, each of them having picked up grime from different parts of the city. It was a communal bathroom, he knew, but maybe he and Grey would have to commandeer it, and lock the door.

<Grey> "Oh, I don't know." She pushed up to her tip toes and brushed a kiss to his lips. She liked to keep him on his toes. She didn't like to deliberately piss him off though. She only cared to tease the man. She knew he had her welfare at heart. Tugging him with her, she pulled him from his lean to. "Come on. If I get sick you can hold my hair back." Now, wasn't that a perfect pair they made? Her hand slid underneath his shirt to feel his flesh, unable to keep herself behaved much longer.

<Jesse Fforde> "If you insist," he said, willing to play along as just the tool, to be used to hold back that glorious thick hair should Grey decide to vomit cookie all over the bathroom tiles. Although Jesse was still angry with Grey, he could not stay angry for long. He'd said his piece. She had heard him - she had realised that the situation had gone beyond mere chastisement, and that he was deadly serious. So long as she understood, that was all he cared for - and now? Now, she knew exactly the kind of ways to tease him, to make him forget. He easily joined her as they sauntered down the hall to the bathroom. Finally reaching up to pull the band from her hair because, well, why not? If he was the one who was supposed to hold it back, the band was just getting in the way of his job.

<Grey> When she felt that tender tug at the back of her head, turning to look to him had the rush of that luxurious, rich brunette hair tumbling down over her shoulders. It fell in a cascade of waves down her back. She hadn't colored it. She hadn't cut it. No, it just barely teased the top of her *** and fell down around her hips. She had kept it long for a reason. She liked the warmth it had provided her on cold, blistery nights. She kept it up though, due to her line of work. Often enough she tied back the precious locks Jesse enjoyed so nothing would get caught in engines or doors. Her bare feet happened along the hallway, tugging him out of the kitchen. It wasn't long before she had him inside the large bathroom and pressed back against the door. She kissed him, rising up on tiptoes. She kissed him hard. Lips smeared against his. Her breath left her mouth, crushing to his before she settled her lips against his jaw. Eyes closed, she leaned into him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to worry you." She said finally, knowing for a moment they were alone.

[Grey (DELETED 5068)]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--


<Jesse Fforde> The rush of passion against the door had Jesse grasping for his woman; leaning down to accommodate the difference in height, arm snaking around behind her. He hadn't a chance to catch any breath - to suck it in or release it. He didn't need it, but his lips opened to welcome her kiss. He could taste blood, only just - was there some that had spattered over his face? But more than that, he could taste sweetness and sugar. A hint of fruit. He remembered this, how often he'd kiss Grey and she'd taste like the chocolate she'd just consumed. It was different. It was endearing. The rush of passion abated as the kiss broke, as she apologised, again. His fingers clutched in her hair as he held her close, gaze not quite focused on the shower across from them. "I'll always be worried, Grey," he admitted. And it wasn't a lie. Deep down, he was always just that tiny bit worried.

<Grey> She needed him. In that moment, she needed him. She had to have him. She had to feel him. She needed to know that even if she disappointed him, he wouldn't turn away from her. She needed to know, even if she upset him, that he wouldn't shun her. She barely pulled away from her lover's mouth when she heard the murmur of his lips. He would always be worried. Always? She wanted to frown, drop her eyes down and lean her head against his chest. And, as a matter of fact, she did just that. She let her forehead drop to the middle of his chest and her arms remained clutching the sides of his body. Of course, clutching his t-shirt as if she needed to keep herself against him. "I'm not going anywhere." Not on purpose, not with an indefinite time frame. No, she was standing there with him in the bathroom. That's right where she was.

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse smiled. They'd had that discussion on numerous occasions, too - his concern that she'd realise this was all one big mistake and would walk away from him. Yes, that was still a legitimate worry that Jesse had, but in this current situation that wasn't all that he worried about. He shook his head. "I worry because you are..." he sighed, and dropped his chin; his fingers curled in Grey's hair and he leaned languidly against the door. "You are the breath in my lungs, and the sunlight on my skin. You are... the food that I can't have anymore. You make everything so much more worthwhile," again, he shook his head. No, this wasn't the point he was getting at. He was sounding selfish. "I worry because I care about you, and I don't ever want to see you hurt. And there still seems to be so much that you don't know and I just want to... wrap you up in cotton wool," he said, a chuckle in his voice.

<Grey> She kept her eyes closed, listening to the wonderful husky voice. The one that lulled her to sleep or spoke to her with that mischief in his voice. She could see the glimmer of testing boundaries in his eyes or the love he held at that very moment. She turned her cheek to his chest - grime and blood from his raid be damned. They could be coated in guts which once would have turned her stomach and now it was just a part of her life. It was who she was. The acceptance of becoming Immortal, basking in the moonlight, and drinking the blood of others had been almost eerily accepted. Perhaps, that was because it meant being with Jesse. It meant being able to be at his side, even if she was no longer his secret. Albeit, it was a mistake. The beginning of their relationship had been a mistake. But it was a blissful mistake that turned into something so very right. Jesse was right. He was her anchor. He was her unlife. He was her reason for being there. He was her reason for staying. She needed him. "Sometimes bad things happen. You died. That was bad, Jesse. It was so bad." She whispered softly, her face twisting into a grimace he couldn't see. She twisted her fingers into his t-shirt, curling the fabric up in her fists.

<Jesse Fforde> He nodded. He thought about it. He tried to claim that philosophy - that bad things were bound to happen and thus he shouldn't worry. But it wouldn't work. It was a naturally produced chemical in his brain - it was something that he could not help. Maybe the only thing to be done was to pretend like he'd never said it. Pretend like he was working on it - on making that worry abate. And never bring it up again - though he knew it would rear its head whenever he discovered that Grey hadn't been feeding, or anything similar. "It wasn't so bad," he said, teasing. He knew how much of a strain it had caused Grey, he knew that. He wasn't being insensitive to it. But at the same time, he would stand his ground as far as death was concerned. "Because I'm here, with you now. I'm not dead. Silver linings, see?" he said, his fingers slowly acting like combs, teasing out the knots in Grey's hair, and whatever grime may be stuck there.

<Grey> She took a deep breath. She inhaled his scent, covered in blood and guts of gangsters and criminals. Her chest hurt. It wasn't because of anything she had recently to eat. It wasn't because she was going to get sick from the cookie she had devoured. No, it was because she had lived bad things. She knew all about bad things. Bad things made someone change. They made someone ugly. She didn't want to be ugly to her lover. Turning her cheek, she brushed a kiss to the inside of her fiancé's wrist. He was the love of her life, and she'd respect the fact that he worried for her. "Silver linings. Yes, Sir." She pulled back, enough to give the man a wink as she tugged him towards the shower now - back stepping towards the large glass encased cubicle.

<Jesse Fforde> The shower. There was no tub here, at Larch Court. Just the shower, with its glass walls and its charcoal tiles. A nice, even flooring moving from outside to inside, with the floor of the shower sloping inwards just slightly to keep the water from the flooding the entire bathroom. The glass was sparkling and clean - he hired no cleaner. It was probably Andromeda, if it wasn't himself doing the cleaning. One thing only those who lived with him would know, is that he'd a bit of a clean freak. Sometimes. He was easily tugged toward the shower - the silver lining for this evening. It was a large shower, with an in-built caddy that was filled with an array of different soaps and shampoos and different things - things that had gathered over time, no doubt belonging to the random family members who drifted through. He quite happily leaned past Grey to turn on the faucet - they were standing just outside of its range. To allow the water to heat and the steam to rise, to fill the bathroom with warmth while they, assumed, would undress.