MERRY
It had been almost 48 hours since she'd left with Renato. Hunters had attacked them on the streets, and cops joined the party. They'd been separated and Merry heavily wounded, though the carnage became mass as the cops and hunters slew each other before her eyes. He was a bloody mess after, body ripped through with bullet holes and a few stab wounds, stumbling the darkened streets trying to avoid the public eye and make his way safely to someone or somewhere familiar. Morty worked nearby, owned a place with a secret basement that vampires gathered in and she'd hoped friends would greet her. They didn't. It had been awful, but Morty was there and Morty had protected Merry, her beloved sister coming to her aid, even if she wasn't the same anymore. At some point Merry had blacked out, and Mortll had taken him back to her apartment to rest, transporting that lanky male body with care and when she awoke within it they had talked. She'd explained her situation and the need to leave, but Morty had been reluctant, leaving Merry no choice but to duck out suddenly with a hurried apology and promise to call. Kendal would be furious.
Since she had entered the body a strange voice had been stirring, a male's that sounded familiar and had only grown so as time went by. It still sounded distant staticy as if coming from a distance but it was getting closer, and clearer. Now as she stood anxiously at a door, preparing to enter, to look for the man who she had a strong urge to call boss he was there in her ear. "It's ok, darlin', he's not all that bad. Well, he is." She'd begun to identify the voice and while at first it had disturbed her, he had now become a source of comfort. Felix Sharpe, or at very least the spirit of him, seemed to haunt his own body as if unable to separate from it fully. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to, because in frightening moments at least she wasn't alone. He didn't seem angry, sometimes sad, but mostly making remarks that were designed to comfort and encourage. His hand shook slightly on the handle and she could've sworn that another covered it, that she was seeing her own original hand with the man's laying over it, encouraging her to turn. She went inside, calling out meekly. "Mr. Baxter? Kendal?... Renato?"
KENDAL
It was meant to be a quick excursion, out of the building and in before Baxter could notice. Renato was sure he had everything under control. How hard could it be to babysit a Mystic who wasn't used to their body yet anyways? It'd be like tending to a newborn foal, he thought. Oh, how he thought wrong. Things were going well until they got to around Newborough where all the gangsters liked hanging out. More gangsters meant more cops. There was always some kind of **** going down in Newborough. Not that Renato had ever been in trouble with the authorities but it was almost on the news. You could hear gunshots in the neighbourhood, the area was a wreck.
The last thing he expected though was that his charge, a vampire that had just newly awakened in the body of his usually-cautious-but-now-deceased colleague, was under police surveillance. The second Merry had been spotted, shots were fired from several angles. Cops in uniform, cops undercover. In the commotion, he'd lost Merry. And once Merry had disappeared, the shots stopped, leaving Rene in a cloud of confusion, hiding away behind a dumpster.
Now, he was pacing along behind his boss. A couple of hours after the ordeal, one of the Valkyries reported Merry back within the vicinity of Comedia. He'd stood behind Baxter and watched as the Blood Paladin watched the Mystic approach the building in the security room.
"It was my idea, Bax." Renato reminded him for the fourth time since they'd left the room. Four times now and every time he'd been ignored.
"Merry."
Too late.
"Nice of you to join us again. Care to explain where you've been without my knowledge?" Baxter came to a halt, across the lobby of the closed club from the vampire.
You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
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You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
DisasterDoll//Formerly Felix
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Re: You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
MERRY
A cold panic hit his stomach, making Merry feel like she'd somehow swallowed a bucket of ice water. The feeling of a presence behind her was stronger the closer she got to Baxter, like a man walked at her back, his hand resting casually on her shoulder blade. "Steady, darlin'." He reminded her in that faint whisper, following her to a stop in front of the boss man. "I was bleeding to death." It was the truth, plain and simple, "In my sister's apartment. I found her. She can heal." The expression on his face was troubled as he peered around Baxter to look at Renato, concerned and apologetic. "I am so glad you are safe. Those hunters... I do not understand why they want me, why the police they follow them to hurt me."
KENDAL
As the Mystic got closer, stepping out from under the lowly lit entrance corridor, Baxter noticed the open bloodstains on his shirt. There was an almost-imperceptible twitch to his brow. His nostrils flared with a deep inhale and his chin, very slowly, tipped upwards as if jutting out in the direction of the figure. "I was bleeding to death." "Once wasn't enough?" The words were shot out of him like magnum bullets from the muzzle of a Desert Eagle, aimed to cripple on contact. Who was he speaking to? Merry? Or Felix? Felix was gone, sure, but his face wasn't. Baxter was staring directly at it, unblinking. They'd both given up, after all, both Merry and Felix; Merry sunk to the Shadows and Felix… well, who the **** even knew what had happened to Felix? "Hey, no, it's okay." Renato's voice broke through Baxter's thoughts and he cast a glance towards the frowning Telepath. "I'm glad you're safe too." Renato smiled a little. The exchange caused the height of the Blood Paladin's cheek to twitch and he turned, heading into the inner sanctum of the club. "Rene, bring them along."
MERRY
Merry stared between the two men, wanting to flinch back into the waiting arms of the man who haunted her, into the ghostly comfort of Felix's thoughts. Would it be better if the blood loss hadn't knocked her out? If they'd gone straight back rather than her winding up in Mortll's apartment. Not that she regretted it, having the opportunity to talk to her sister, but welcoming Baxter's ire wasn't exactly on the to do list either. His own jaw was tense under the scrutiny, and waiting for Renato to speak. He did, and she felt like a weight had left her, like if some invisible force wasn't holding her up then Felix's body would go tumbling to the ground. Apparently Baxter didn't share the relief, a muscle twitch so obviously that it almost made Merry flinch back. She didn't need for Rene to drag her into the room after him, following on her own, well Felix's own, two feet and shooting the man an apologetic look on the way.
KENDAL
The ornate double doors swung open to a fever dream of neon colours splashed against an abyssal background. While the exterior of Comedia looked to be like that of a regular, two-story commercial building, the interior, beyond the normally locked oak double doors, had once belonged to an old church. It had been mostly restored since the building was bought for the club, many of the effigies and mosaics brought back to their original pristine condition. Where the altar once stood was where the show was, draped in thick, red velvet over a glistening black stage, thick gold pole assembled at the very centre of it. Gone were the pews, replaced with decadent lounging seats and silk-draped tables and from the very centre of the room, under an expansive fresco, hung a large, glimmering chandelier while, along the sides of the venue, were booths, most hidden away behind thick curtains that matched the ones from the stage. The club was dimly lit, only candles lighting up the tables, adding to the warmth that seemed to be ever-present, and there was a thin sheen of a fog that crept around the air.
There were no patrons tonight Comedia was closed. But the speakers still played the instrumental version of a Drake song that echoed through the empty halls. Baxter led Merry and Rene through the club, through the neon-drenched hallway to the very back, taking the stairs up to the second floor. Upstairs was mostly storage for his business (you know, the other one) save for the single room off to one side. He used his card to unlock the door before opening it for Merry, waiting for him to step inside before he followed, abruptly shutting the door in Renato's face. The room was an office, as ornately decorated as the rest of the club. There were shelves lining the left and right walls, ceiling to wall filled with books of all nature. All Renato's.
The floor was dark walnut, carrying the sounds of their footsteps as Kendal headed for his desk. It was a heavy, oak thing, ornate too, to match the doors of the venue, and it sat in front of not a wall but a thick pane of darkly tinted glass, offering a full view of the club down below. There was a distinct smell of dwindling cigarette smoke and cologne in the air. Every part of Comedia was just the sort of gaudy illusion he'd wanted it to be. "Sit." he ordered, head jerking towards one of the two Bergere chairs on the opposite side of the desk.
A cold panic hit his stomach, making Merry feel like she'd somehow swallowed a bucket of ice water. The feeling of a presence behind her was stronger the closer she got to Baxter, like a man walked at her back, his hand resting casually on her shoulder blade. "Steady, darlin'." He reminded her in that faint whisper, following her to a stop in front of the boss man. "I was bleeding to death." It was the truth, plain and simple, "In my sister's apartment. I found her. She can heal." The expression on his face was troubled as he peered around Baxter to look at Renato, concerned and apologetic. "I am so glad you are safe. Those hunters... I do not understand why they want me, why the police they follow them to hurt me."
KENDAL
As the Mystic got closer, stepping out from under the lowly lit entrance corridor, Baxter noticed the open bloodstains on his shirt. There was an almost-imperceptible twitch to his brow. His nostrils flared with a deep inhale and his chin, very slowly, tipped upwards as if jutting out in the direction of the figure. "I was bleeding to death." "Once wasn't enough?" The words were shot out of him like magnum bullets from the muzzle of a Desert Eagle, aimed to cripple on contact. Who was he speaking to? Merry? Or Felix? Felix was gone, sure, but his face wasn't. Baxter was staring directly at it, unblinking. They'd both given up, after all, both Merry and Felix; Merry sunk to the Shadows and Felix… well, who the **** even knew what had happened to Felix? "Hey, no, it's okay." Renato's voice broke through Baxter's thoughts and he cast a glance towards the frowning Telepath. "I'm glad you're safe too." Renato smiled a little. The exchange caused the height of the Blood Paladin's cheek to twitch and he turned, heading into the inner sanctum of the club. "Rene, bring them along."
MERRY
Merry stared between the two men, wanting to flinch back into the waiting arms of the man who haunted her, into the ghostly comfort of Felix's thoughts. Would it be better if the blood loss hadn't knocked her out? If they'd gone straight back rather than her winding up in Mortll's apartment. Not that she regretted it, having the opportunity to talk to her sister, but welcoming Baxter's ire wasn't exactly on the to do list either. His own jaw was tense under the scrutiny, and waiting for Renato to speak. He did, and she felt like a weight had left her, like if some invisible force wasn't holding her up then Felix's body would go tumbling to the ground. Apparently Baxter didn't share the relief, a muscle twitch so obviously that it almost made Merry flinch back. She didn't need for Rene to drag her into the room after him, following on her own, well Felix's own, two feet and shooting the man an apologetic look on the way.
KENDAL
The ornate double doors swung open to a fever dream of neon colours splashed against an abyssal background. While the exterior of Comedia looked to be like that of a regular, two-story commercial building, the interior, beyond the normally locked oak double doors, had once belonged to an old church. It had been mostly restored since the building was bought for the club, many of the effigies and mosaics brought back to their original pristine condition. Where the altar once stood was where the show was, draped in thick, red velvet over a glistening black stage, thick gold pole assembled at the very centre of it. Gone were the pews, replaced with decadent lounging seats and silk-draped tables and from the very centre of the room, under an expansive fresco, hung a large, glimmering chandelier while, along the sides of the venue, were booths, most hidden away behind thick curtains that matched the ones from the stage. The club was dimly lit, only candles lighting up the tables, adding to the warmth that seemed to be ever-present, and there was a thin sheen of a fog that crept around the air.
There were no patrons tonight Comedia was closed. But the speakers still played the instrumental version of a Drake song that echoed through the empty halls. Baxter led Merry and Rene through the club, through the neon-drenched hallway to the very back, taking the stairs up to the second floor. Upstairs was mostly storage for his business (you know, the other one) save for the single room off to one side. He used his card to unlock the door before opening it for Merry, waiting for him to step inside before he followed, abruptly shutting the door in Renato's face. The room was an office, as ornately decorated as the rest of the club. There were shelves lining the left and right walls, ceiling to wall filled with books of all nature. All Renato's.
The floor was dark walnut, carrying the sounds of their footsteps as Kendal headed for his desk. It was a heavy, oak thing, ornate too, to match the doors of the venue, and it sat in front of not a wall but a thick pane of darkly tinted glass, offering a full view of the club down below. There was a distinct smell of dwindling cigarette smoke and cologne in the air. Every part of Comedia was just the sort of gaudy illusion he'd wanted it to be. "Sit." he ordered, head jerking towards one of the two Bergere chairs on the opposite side of the desk.
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#6B4648
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Re: You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
MERRY
She wasn't yet used to the club, though she got the impression Felix would be right at home here. Something about him seemed wistful, Merry beginning to get a better grip on the man the more he hung around. She knew she should have been bothered by the haunting, knew she should probably think she was going crazy but it was too late for all that. She'd gone half-crazy years ago, now it was just a matter of not completing giving into the insanity. It would be easier, perhaps, to give in to the madness. She'd certainly already given into Felix. He was endearing, this soft spoken, bubbly man who had done nothing but be supportive and encouraging since the first time she'd heard his voice at the back of her mind. Now he seemed absorbed in his surroundings, whispering to her about club nights and how Baxter used to glare at him when he'd make a spectacle of himself dancing around to liven up the mood.
Merry tried to fight a smile at the image, she swear she could almost see the memories he was walking through, as if the place was suddenly full of ghostly images. She wanted to dance with them, to sway or cheer and jeer at the acts on stage as Felix would. That wasn't on the cards, of course, and the images seemed to fade as Baxter opened the door to his office. Here we go, they both thought, staring after him with trepidation. The look on his face was uncertain, wary as he tried to enter the room while keeping as much distance between himself and Baxter as possible. It didn't help that Felix was whispering at her to touch him, telling her it would surprise him, get him off guard. Even worse was the way he tugged at her, trying to convince her to sit on the desk instead of one of the chairs. The door slammed and they jumped, head turning to watch him move across the room, head jerking pointedly towards the chairs. "See, Felix?" She murmured quietly, the man pouting as Merry chose one of the seats and sat obediently. "Hello, Mr. Ken Do-... Baxter." She coughed out the surname, hand lifting to press against her mouth. That wasn't what she'd wanted to say, and Felix was to blame.
KENDAL
Baxter took his seat across from Merry on the wingback, leaning back against it, one arm stretched out in front of himself so that his fingers could drum against the desktop while his other arm, bent at the elbow, rested on top of the arm of the chair. He studied the vampire in silence. He looked sickly. Well, most vampires looked sickly but he looked sicker than your average vampire did. "You didn't feed." he realized out loud, ignoring the voice in his head that was whinging about being locked out of the room and something about 'don't kill him again'. It admittedly made it hard to concentrate but no trace of his struggle was reflected on his stony features. "Was it just hunters who had shot at you?" he said after a long stretch of silence, finally pushing his chair back so he could stand and making his way over to the small table in front of the display of literature. He stooped and opened the compartment to the table, pulling out a bottle of crimson, carrying the entire eighty ounce vessel back to Merry. He set it down firmly in front of the vampire, on the table before he returned to his seat. "Drink."
MERRY
The whole scene was unsettling, and Merry just wanted to bail. Felix told her to be calm, that he wouldn't want to hurt him, or her. She wanted to believe him, he seemed like an honest sort, the kind you could trust but she'd been burned before. Lucky for him the alternative wasn't any better and so she sat there, fidgeting nervously at his bloody clothes. It was true, she hadn't fed enough. Mortll had given her some blood and healed the worst of her wounds, keeping the shadows at bay just a little bit longer. "I did. Some." He spoke quietly, cautiously. Baxter reminded her of a lit fuse, just slowly burning down towards the explosive, or a snowed over mountain that would fall to avalanche if you spoke too loudly. Yes, ice, ice suited him. Merry watched him rise and move across the room, considering the question she'd almost missed by retreating into her thoughts. "Da, and cops." The blood was set down and a command given. Drink. It reminded her of the first time she'd had to, another man who was to most a cold presence, but to her had become a comfort. Even as she wanted to run from Baxter she had Felix telling her he wasn't so bad, that he did it because he cared but he didn't want to care. The blood was proof of that, a life source. She did drink it.
She wasn't yet used to the club, though she got the impression Felix would be right at home here. Something about him seemed wistful, Merry beginning to get a better grip on the man the more he hung around. She knew she should have been bothered by the haunting, knew she should probably think she was going crazy but it was too late for all that. She'd gone half-crazy years ago, now it was just a matter of not completing giving into the insanity. It would be easier, perhaps, to give in to the madness. She'd certainly already given into Felix. He was endearing, this soft spoken, bubbly man who had done nothing but be supportive and encouraging since the first time she'd heard his voice at the back of her mind. Now he seemed absorbed in his surroundings, whispering to her about club nights and how Baxter used to glare at him when he'd make a spectacle of himself dancing around to liven up the mood.
Merry tried to fight a smile at the image, she swear she could almost see the memories he was walking through, as if the place was suddenly full of ghostly images. She wanted to dance with them, to sway or cheer and jeer at the acts on stage as Felix would. That wasn't on the cards, of course, and the images seemed to fade as Baxter opened the door to his office. Here we go, they both thought, staring after him with trepidation. The look on his face was uncertain, wary as he tried to enter the room while keeping as much distance between himself and Baxter as possible. It didn't help that Felix was whispering at her to touch him, telling her it would surprise him, get him off guard. Even worse was the way he tugged at her, trying to convince her to sit on the desk instead of one of the chairs. The door slammed and they jumped, head turning to watch him move across the room, head jerking pointedly towards the chairs. "See, Felix?" She murmured quietly, the man pouting as Merry chose one of the seats and sat obediently. "Hello, Mr. Ken Do-... Baxter." She coughed out the surname, hand lifting to press against her mouth. That wasn't what she'd wanted to say, and Felix was to blame.
KENDAL
Baxter took his seat across from Merry on the wingback, leaning back against it, one arm stretched out in front of himself so that his fingers could drum against the desktop while his other arm, bent at the elbow, rested on top of the arm of the chair. He studied the vampire in silence. He looked sickly. Well, most vampires looked sickly but he looked sicker than your average vampire did. "You didn't feed." he realized out loud, ignoring the voice in his head that was whinging about being locked out of the room and something about 'don't kill him again'. It admittedly made it hard to concentrate but no trace of his struggle was reflected on his stony features. "Was it just hunters who had shot at you?" he said after a long stretch of silence, finally pushing his chair back so he could stand and making his way over to the small table in front of the display of literature. He stooped and opened the compartment to the table, pulling out a bottle of crimson, carrying the entire eighty ounce vessel back to Merry. He set it down firmly in front of the vampire, on the table before he returned to his seat. "Drink."
MERRY
The whole scene was unsettling, and Merry just wanted to bail. Felix told her to be calm, that he wouldn't want to hurt him, or her. She wanted to believe him, he seemed like an honest sort, the kind you could trust but she'd been burned before. Lucky for him the alternative wasn't any better and so she sat there, fidgeting nervously at his bloody clothes. It was true, she hadn't fed enough. Mortll had given her some blood and healed the worst of her wounds, keeping the shadows at bay just a little bit longer. "I did. Some." He spoke quietly, cautiously. Baxter reminded her of a lit fuse, just slowly burning down towards the explosive, or a snowed over mountain that would fall to avalanche if you spoke too loudly. Yes, ice, ice suited him. Merry watched him rise and move across the room, considering the question she'd almost missed by retreating into her thoughts. "Da, and cops." The blood was set down and a command given. Drink. It reminded her of the first time she'd had to, another man who was to most a cold presence, but to her had become a comfort. Even as she wanted to run from Baxter she had Felix telling her he wasn't so bad, that he did it because he cared but he didn't want to care. The blood was proof of that, a life source. She did drink it.
DisasterDoll//Formerly Felix
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Re: You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
KENDAL
"Interesting." he commented. And cops, he'd said. Hunters and cops. Baxter leaned to the side briefly and he pulled the top drawer of his desk open before sinking his hand inside to pull out a black, leather-bound book. The cover was blank, the corners protected by brass filigree that matched the same brass that made up the lion's feet of the chairs in the room. He opened the book and leaned back in his seat, folding one leg over the other as he flipped through the pages. "And you don't remember having done anything wrong?" There was an emphasis on you like he was asking Merry to sift through Felix's memories as well. He didn't look up though, allowing the vampire some privacy while he drank. He came to stop at a page and slid the silk ribbon bookmark attached to the journal, sliding it flush against the spine before he shut the book and set it aside, gaze finally lifting to look at Merry as he anticipated an answer.
MERRY
He paused mid-drink, staring at the man. Did he remember anything? Felix and Merry were both wracking their brains, Merry mechanically swallowing the blood until the container was empty. He lowered it, watching Baxter flick through the book, frowning at it as if it might tell them the answers. "No. I am not sure. I think the hunters, maybe they felt... Something. When the uh..." She tried to summon the word, and failed, following back on an easier phrase, "The shadows released me." It was the only explanation Merry could come up with, and Felix wasn't much better. "He was drunk." Merry added, "Or drugged. Felix. There is no clear memory of the days before. The last clear memory..." Felix closed off from her, suddenly a brooding, distant presence. He wasn't going to let her see that, not yet, the trust wasn't there and their connection not strong enough. "Sorry. Not wanting to remember."
KENDAL
"Felt something?" he arched a brow. "Like your presence, you mean." he straightened up a little in his seat. Gears were turning, like his mind was split in three; one part, the one that was most apparent on the surface, was interrogating Merry while another sifted through information, flicking through what he knew and the third drawing up a solution that was nearly completed. Very suddenly, all three coming to a screeching halt, every process replaced with static. "Or drugged." Drugged. Felix wasn't known to be a drug user, as far as Baxter knew. So, of course, drugged. Like someone else had done it.
There was a crawling feeling, something cold and sickening, that crawled across his back and up his shoulders, hairs standing on end. His expression remained flat but there was a visible swallow that made his adam's apple bob. His pale gaze shifted, flicking back and forth, studying Merry's gaze for sincerity before he tipped his chin, head lolling, stare tearing away from the man as he glanced over his shoulder and out the window. Renato was behind the bar, cleaning the glasses with a sour expression on his face. Baxter concentrated on that. On that concrete piece of reality right before him. The static got quieter, just barely, but enough. He continued to watch Rene like a diligent employer. "What's the last thing you remember before that?"
"Interesting." he commented. And cops, he'd said. Hunters and cops. Baxter leaned to the side briefly and he pulled the top drawer of his desk open before sinking his hand inside to pull out a black, leather-bound book. The cover was blank, the corners protected by brass filigree that matched the same brass that made up the lion's feet of the chairs in the room. He opened the book and leaned back in his seat, folding one leg over the other as he flipped through the pages. "And you don't remember having done anything wrong?" There was an emphasis on you like he was asking Merry to sift through Felix's memories as well. He didn't look up though, allowing the vampire some privacy while he drank. He came to stop at a page and slid the silk ribbon bookmark attached to the journal, sliding it flush against the spine before he shut the book and set it aside, gaze finally lifting to look at Merry as he anticipated an answer.
MERRY
He paused mid-drink, staring at the man. Did he remember anything? Felix and Merry were both wracking their brains, Merry mechanically swallowing the blood until the container was empty. He lowered it, watching Baxter flick through the book, frowning at it as if it might tell them the answers. "No. I am not sure. I think the hunters, maybe they felt... Something. When the uh..." She tried to summon the word, and failed, following back on an easier phrase, "The shadows released me." It was the only explanation Merry could come up with, and Felix wasn't much better. "He was drunk." Merry added, "Or drugged. Felix. There is no clear memory of the days before. The last clear memory..." Felix closed off from her, suddenly a brooding, distant presence. He wasn't going to let her see that, not yet, the trust wasn't there and their connection not strong enough. "Sorry. Not wanting to remember."
KENDAL
"Felt something?" he arched a brow. "Like your presence, you mean." he straightened up a little in his seat. Gears were turning, like his mind was split in three; one part, the one that was most apparent on the surface, was interrogating Merry while another sifted through information, flicking through what he knew and the third drawing up a solution that was nearly completed. Very suddenly, all three coming to a screeching halt, every process replaced with static. "Or drugged." Drugged. Felix wasn't known to be a drug user, as far as Baxter knew. So, of course, drugged. Like someone else had done it.
There was a crawling feeling, something cold and sickening, that crawled across his back and up his shoulders, hairs standing on end. His expression remained flat but there was a visible swallow that made his adam's apple bob. His pale gaze shifted, flicking back and forth, studying Merry's gaze for sincerity before he tipped his chin, head lolling, stare tearing away from the man as he glanced over his shoulder and out the window. Renato was behind the bar, cleaning the glasses with a sour expression on his face. Baxter concentrated on that. On that concrete piece of reality right before him. The static got quieter, just barely, but enough. He continued to watch Rene like a diligent employer. "What's the last thing you remember before that?"
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#6B4648
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Re: You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
MERRY
Vampires each carried a unique aura, some stronger than others in the vibe they put out into the world. Something like a vampire coming back to this realm, stepping through the rift and out of the shadows would not doubt cause some ripples. Not to mention the fact that many of them returned with heavy wounds, the price for having a chance to come back and hunters were like sharks. They could smell fresh blood. It was harder to feed when you were wounded, harder to control yourself and remember your manners when you felt as if you were starving. Even being fed and cared for under Kendal Baxter’s roof, Merry had felt strangely ravenous and perhaps when she had been allowed out, when she had found someone to take a few pints from, she had been noticed. It was always possible. As for Felix? He was still closed off, a sadness and longing radiating from the spirit that clung to her, making him difficult to break through to and make intelligible contact with.
Felix was in a mood.
Merry was watching Baxter a little more closely now, studying his reaction to the words she’d spoken and waiting for response or reprimand. While his features were not showing much in the way of expression, the way he swallowed forcefully as if try to drag a foul taste out of his mouth by sheer force spoke volumes. He was bothered. That gaze studied her expression, ice blue to his cut sapphire, meeting in the middle as they stared into each other’s eyes as if some answers lay there. Both seemed to come up short, Baxter looking to Renato and Merry dropping hers, feeling suddenly sweaty and nervous, flustered. That made sense, she was being interrogated by the man. Then he asked his next question and she swore a heart was fluttering anxiously in her chest. Felix’s. ”You do not mean me.” She spoke quietly, trying to encourage Felix to speak up. It took a handful of moments, the cold grip of fear making her regret it, feeling head to toe frozen as took charge. ”Clearly? Telling you I had nothing left to give you, that I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be.” Merry wasn’t entirely clear what the statement meant, but Felix delivered it tight lipped and reluctantly, whispering a follow-up. ”I didn’t go to him. He found me. I remember drunk and scared, snatches of conversation and then broken sleep. Fever dreams.” The voice had shifted, both in her head and spoken, the slight European lilt leaving it almost entirely. It was the most genuinely Felix she had sounded, and it scared her the way the mouth seemed to move of it’s own accord. ”****, doll, it’s all a mess.”
KENDAL
Baxter leaned forward, ripping his attention away from Renato to look forward, straight at the vampire sitting across from him. His elbows balanced against the edge of the desk as his fingers laced together loosely and obstructed Merry's direct view of his face but his eyes were glued on him and there was a slightly, nearly undetectable crease between his brows as he anticipated the answer to his question. He paid no mind to the way the other seemed nervous. He figured that would be a natural response and he wasn't about to let that sort of a thing get in the way of finding out what had happened.
And then Merry spoke in a way he wasn't expecting.
His spine stiffened, posture straightening almost immediately as his hands lowered from his face at a snail's pace. "Is this a joke?" he barked almost immediately, face reddening quickly, from his neck to his hairline. His movements were quick, vampire blood coursing through his system as he stood abruptly and moved around the perimetre of the desk to grab the from of Merry's shirt, dragging the vampire onto his feet with a single jerk of his hand as it fisted around the fabrics, knuckles turning white. "You think this is funny?" he seethed.
”Clearly? Telling you I had nothing left to give you, that I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be.”
…
“****, I’ll see you Monday…"
His chest rose and fell visibly, nostrils flared as his face drifted only inches from the Mystic's, gaze sifting through the others to find the truth in it. There was a flicker of something then in his demeanour, like a switch being turned off. His stared remained hard but his body relaxed some.
"Why didn't you call me? You were supposed to call me."
MERRY
Merry barely had enough time to react to the sudden change, both stunned by the angered, disbelieving response and to shake Felix enough to regain solid control over his body. All they could do was stand as the man grabbed at his shirt, yanking him the rest of the way up and face so close that it was almost impossible not to meet that gaze. It was frightening, his nostrils flaring and his face so intense that she thought he might kill them all over again. What was worse was that he could, there was strength in that grip, that of a paladin and blood thief who had been honing his craft, training and taking in blood long enough to manipulate the power it gave effectively. While Merry wanted to flinch away, to fight him off, Felix was content to roll his eyes. Their reactions differed greatly and it showed in his expression, confusion, frustration and brief flickers of fear. Yet, he didn’t pull away, in fact he almost seemed to lean into it. That part was all Felix, telling Merry not to try and get away, just to lean closer. To let him answer.
”I wanted to, darlin’. I really did. Have you gotten my phone turned on yet? Lord, let me tell you, there will draft after draft. There are pictures, too. Just look at it, I don’t know what else. I got drunk, then, things went south. Like, far south, Ken Doll.” Felix wanted to touch him, and Merry lifted his hand, placing it gently, cautiously so that his thumb settled against the the curve of his jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of the man’s neck and pressing into the dark hair that he so badly just wanted to wrap his fingers around. The temptation to tug it, to tell him to stop being so morose and angry was strong but silence prevailed, a steady gaze that dared him to stare into it. Look at me, see me. See us. Both were there, Felix and Merry, sharing the body for how long was unclear. ”We are going to need to talk to another Mystic. We may only have so long together, two spirits trying to host one body sounds like a rough time… It is unlikely to last.” The sentence fluctuated in accent, the pronunciation shifting from end to another as if the two were collaborating and interrupting each other throughout. It was a shared sentiment.
Vampires each carried a unique aura, some stronger than others in the vibe they put out into the world. Something like a vampire coming back to this realm, stepping through the rift and out of the shadows would not doubt cause some ripples. Not to mention the fact that many of them returned with heavy wounds, the price for having a chance to come back and hunters were like sharks. They could smell fresh blood. It was harder to feed when you were wounded, harder to control yourself and remember your manners when you felt as if you were starving. Even being fed and cared for under Kendal Baxter’s roof, Merry had felt strangely ravenous and perhaps when she had been allowed out, when she had found someone to take a few pints from, she had been noticed. It was always possible. As for Felix? He was still closed off, a sadness and longing radiating from the spirit that clung to her, making him difficult to break through to and make intelligible contact with.
Felix was in a mood.
Merry was watching Baxter a little more closely now, studying his reaction to the words she’d spoken and waiting for response or reprimand. While his features were not showing much in the way of expression, the way he swallowed forcefully as if try to drag a foul taste out of his mouth by sheer force spoke volumes. He was bothered. That gaze studied her expression, ice blue to his cut sapphire, meeting in the middle as they stared into each other’s eyes as if some answers lay there. Both seemed to come up short, Baxter looking to Renato and Merry dropping hers, feeling suddenly sweaty and nervous, flustered. That made sense, she was being interrogated by the man. Then he asked his next question and she swore a heart was fluttering anxiously in her chest. Felix’s. ”You do not mean me.” She spoke quietly, trying to encourage Felix to speak up. It took a handful of moments, the cold grip of fear making her regret it, feeling head to toe frozen as took charge. ”Clearly? Telling you I had nothing left to give you, that I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be.” Merry wasn’t entirely clear what the statement meant, but Felix delivered it tight lipped and reluctantly, whispering a follow-up. ”I didn’t go to him. He found me. I remember drunk and scared, snatches of conversation and then broken sleep. Fever dreams.” The voice had shifted, both in her head and spoken, the slight European lilt leaving it almost entirely. It was the most genuinely Felix she had sounded, and it scared her the way the mouth seemed to move of it’s own accord. ”****, doll, it’s all a mess.”
KENDAL
Baxter leaned forward, ripping his attention away from Renato to look forward, straight at the vampire sitting across from him. His elbows balanced against the edge of the desk as his fingers laced together loosely and obstructed Merry's direct view of his face but his eyes were glued on him and there was a slightly, nearly undetectable crease between his brows as he anticipated the answer to his question. He paid no mind to the way the other seemed nervous. He figured that would be a natural response and he wasn't about to let that sort of a thing get in the way of finding out what had happened.
And then Merry spoke in a way he wasn't expecting.
His spine stiffened, posture straightening almost immediately as his hands lowered from his face at a snail's pace. "Is this a joke?" he barked almost immediately, face reddening quickly, from his neck to his hairline. His movements were quick, vampire blood coursing through his system as he stood abruptly and moved around the perimetre of the desk to grab the from of Merry's shirt, dragging the vampire onto his feet with a single jerk of his hand as it fisted around the fabrics, knuckles turning white. "You think this is funny?" he seethed.
”Clearly? Telling you I had nothing left to give you, that I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be.”
…
“****, I’ll see you Monday…"
His chest rose and fell visibly, nostrils flared as his face drifted only inches from the Mystic's, gaze sifting through the others to find the truth in it. There was a flicker of something then in his demeanour, like a switch being turned off. His stared remained hard but his body relaxed some.
"Why didn't you call me? You were supposed to call me."
MERRY
Merry barely had enough time to react to the sudden change, both stunned by the angered, disbelieving response and to shake Felix enough to regain solid control over his body. All they could do was stand as the man grabbed at his shirt, yanking him the rest of the way up and face so close that it was almost impossible not to meet that gaze. It was frightening, his nostrils flaring and his face so intense that she thought he might kill them all over again. What was worse was that he could, there was strength in that grip, that of a paladin and blood thief who had been honing his craft, training and taking in blood long enough to manipulate the power it gave effectively. While Merry wanted to flinch away, to fight him off, Felix was content to roll his eyes. Their reactions differed greatly and it showed in his expression, confusion, frustration and brief flickers of fear. Yet, he didn’t pull away, in fact he almost seemed to lean into it. That part was all Felix, telling Merry not to try and get away, just to lean closer. To let him answer.
”I wanted to, darlin’. I really did. Have you gotten my phone turned on yet? Lord, let me tell you, there will draft after draft. There are pictures, too. Just look at it, I don’t know what else. I got drunk, then, things went south. Like, far south, Ken Doll.” Felix wanted to touch him, and Merry lifted his hand, placing it gently, cautiously so that his thumb settled against the the curve of his jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of the man’s neck and pressing into the dark hair that he so badly just wanted to wrap his fingers around. The temptation to tug it, to tell him to stop being so morose and angry was strong but silence prevailed, a steady gaze that dared him to stare into it. Look at me, see me. See us. Both were there, Felix and Merry, sharing the body for how long was unclear. ”We are going to need to talk to another Mystic. We may only have so long together, two spirits trying to host one body sounds like a rough time… It is unlikely to last.” The sentence fluctuated in accent, the pronunciation shifting from end to another as if the two were collaborating and interrupting each other throughout. It was a shared sentiment.
DisasterDoll//Formerly Felix
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Re: You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
KENDAL
He'd never been a man who knew how to deal with the fluctuations of his reactions. The concept of coming to terms with the way the amygdala processed things was something of a foreign idea. That is to say that he didn't really process any of it. Feelings sat on the surface of his mind like the bits of ice that collected on top of arctic seas, never truly able to sink to the vast stretch of water below. Not as they were anyways. Eventually, just as the ice would melt, so did those emotions disperse and fade away. Rage seemed to simmer just below all the others though, just the tiniest bit closer to where all the processing took place.
"Are you kidding me?" he spat.
He didn't know who he was talking to anymore. This was the man who he had thought was Felix, who had told him he was actually a Mystic named Merry and now Merry not only looked like Felix but sounded like him too. Ken Doll, he'd called him, like this was a dream. Like the past two weeks hadn't been a whirlwind of absolute **** Baxter wasn't equipped to handle. Like everything was normal. Or a joke. What was likely the most troubling thing of all was the fact that Baxter was willing to fall for the joke. Whoever it was that was pulling his leg, whether it was Merry pretending to be Felix or Felix pulling off a grand, elaborate scheme of having created a character named Merry to **** with him with, he was willing to take the bait if only to hear Felix Sharpe's last words. Because what if it wasn't a prank? Because what if everything that had happened in the past eleven days wasn't a dream? It meant Felix was gone.
But he wasn't.
He wasn't gone because he was right there, in front of Baxter, calling him "Ken Doll" like he hadn't gone off on some stupid bender that turned him into roadkill. Unless it was Merry, playing a cruel trick.
Baxter tensed at the touch to his jaw and he instantly released Merry. Or Felix. Whoever it was now. The touch was familiar but foreign, cold but warm. He only caught the pleading look in his eyes for a split second before his own closed like shutters, locking him.. them out, locking himself in. Because what else could he do? It was all surreal, like a dream that wasn't ending. A nightmare that wasn't ending.
And then they were talking about a solution and Kendal felt heat rising up to his face; the rage that had been bubbling, then simmered to grief was now rage again. "...two spirits trying to host one body sounds like a rough time… It is unlikely to last.” His eyes snapped open and his hand shot out, fingers curling around Felix's throat to pull him closer. He wasn't about to move on from that. No so easily. Not so soon. Not until he had dig through every last bit of **** and had something to quell his nerves.
"You saved drafts. You ever think to send them?" he hissed quietly, voice barely above a whisper. "'Cause how in the **** would drafts and pictures have helped otherwise?"
MERRY
The emotions warring inside her felt like the sunshine trying to break through a storm, cloud coverage stopping its rays from touching the earth below. The fear flashed across her psyche, the rumbling rage at being so unkindly treated, treated as if she were a piece of property. She wasn’t HIS property. Felix made soothing sounds, trying to shine his light on her to settle the desire to lash out. She’d almost settled, almost listened to the man and taken the mild abuse, because with his hand on Baxter’s cheek breaching that divide she thought there might be a chance at calm. She was wrong, and Felix was losing the fight. His whole body tensed as Bax moved away, dropping the hand like he’d been electrified by the man’s cold departure and yet the contact was fated to be returned, though the intention was she knew was not to comfort or console. It was to command. She’d felt that touch before.
The hand that came around his throat could not be ignored, it was threat and control. It became Merry’s primary focus and took all of Felix’s lingering power to maintain the connection with her. He couldn’t let go just yet, he wasn’t ready to give up on Kendal. He pressed into that hand almost challenging it to tighten, to cut off the words he wanted to speak. There was no way in hell he’d let himself be silenced, not now that he’d found a voice, not even as Merry begged him to keep the bad man from hurting them. She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t go BACK. The internal struggle was showing through only in the tensing of muscles, the clenching of jaw and that goddamn lower lip that didn’t seem to want to stop quivering pathetically. ”Phone died.” He scraped the words from his throat, raw ragged from the effort of forcing them out. The panic was showing through, eyes beseeching his, ”Please look at them. I didn’t get a chance… I didn’t…” There was a choking sound, a struggling sound and then a shoulder was lifting.
It wasn’t just a shrug, no, the momentum in the jerk of muscles kept travelling and a fist was lifting, swinging with deadly aim intended to deliver a blow against the man’s ear. Merry’d had enough, and the fear, the fury was winning out. By tooth and nail if she had to, she’d get those commanding hands away from them.
This was a familiar scene. A familiar feel of smooth skin pressing against the breadth of his palm and the warmth of his fingers pressing down like they intended to sear through the sallow flesh and leave signs of his presence behind. Gone was the cheeky grin, the twinkle of mischief reflecting off of pools of endless sapphire. Gone was the knocking against his fingers as they tightened their grip, the way he'd lean in and whisper something meant only for Baxter's ears. It was replaced with quivering, trembling, like a lone leaf on a branch in Fall, and just as fragile. It only served to make the Blood Paladin's temper rise. Felix wasn't weak. Felix had never been weak. To see him in this state made him want to pick the man up and pitch him across the room. Fight, he wanted to yell at him, fight! Fight it. Fight what though? Death? (If only.) The walls of his walls seemed to contract, pulling closer together and cutting off his shallow breaths.
There was begging now. "I didn't get a chance…" He was pleading, choking on his words, on fear maybe, maybe on some level of turmoil. It should have felt good, to know that he was struggling just as much as he was, that he was feeling pain too. Because how dare he make him hurt? How dare he ruin what was a carefully crafted, albeit fragile, composure? How dare he be able to even touch the porcelain mask, let alone crack it? But the sight of Felix only made the fissures grow and multiplying, ebbing out and threatening to shatter his facade entirely. This is why you didn't let hapless, reckless, careless pretty boys get too close. How had he not learned his lesson?
He saw it coming from the corner of his eyes. It was a blur of a flesh-coloured motion. He'd been in that position too many times to not know what was aimed for the side of his head. He ducked his head immediately, Felix's fist narrowly missing his ear, one knuckle just barely grazing over the edge before shooting out into the air. Baxter's lips peeled back with a low hiss, canines sharpening to points before he lunged forward, the joint of his shoulder aimed for Felix's abdomen in an effort to stun the man.
His shoulder made contact with Felix's stomach, sending them both hurtling towards the ground. Both bodies hit the floor and Baxter twisted deftly, his forearm pressing across Felix's throat with just enough pressure to pin him down. "Calm the **** down." he snapped. And then there was a slight shift in his wild eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you." he said in more relaxed manner.
He'd never been a man who knew how to deal with the fluctuations of his reactions. The concept of coming to terms with the way the amygdala processed things was something of a foreign idea. That is to say that he didn't really process any of it. Feelings sat on the surface of his mind like the bits of ice that collected on top of arctic seas, never truly able to sink to the vast stretch of water below. Not as they were anyways. Eventually, just as the ice would melt, so did those emotions disperse and fade away. Rage seemed to simmer just below all the others though, just the tiniest bit closer to where all the processing took place.
"Are you kidding me?" he spat.
He didn't know who he was talking to anymore. This was the man who he had thought was Felix, who had told him he was actually a Mystic named Merry and now Merry not only looked like Felix but sounded like him too. Ken Doll, he'd called him, like this was a dream. Like the past two weeks hadn't been a whirlwind of absolute **** Baxter wasn't equipped to handle. Like everything was normal. Or a joke. What was likely the most troubling thing of all was the fact that Baxter was willing to fall for the joke. Whoever it was that was pulling his leg, whether it was Merry pretending to be Felix or Felix pulling off a grand, elaborate scheme of having created a character named Merry to **** with him with, he was willing to take the bait if only to hear Felix Sharpe's last words. Because what if it wasn't a prank? Because what if everything that had happened in the past eleven days wasn't a dream? It meant Felix was gone.
But he wasn't.
He wasn't gone because he was right there, in front of Baxter, calling him "Ken Doll" like he hadn't gone off on some stupid bender that turned him into roadkill. Unless it was Merry, playing a cruel trick.
Baxter tensed at the touch to his jaw and he instantly released Merry. Or Felix. Whoever it was now. The touch was familiar but foreign, cold but warm. He only caught the pleading look in his eyes for a split second before his own closed like shutters, locking him.. them out, locking himself in. Because what else could he do? It was all surreal, like a dream that wasn't ending. A nightmare that wasn't ending.
And then they were talking about a solution and Kendal felt heat rising up to his face; the rage that had been bubbling, then simmered to grief was now rage again. "...two spirits trying to host one body sounds like a rough time… It is unlikely to last.” His eyes snapped open and his hand shot out, fingers curling around Felix's throat to pull him closer. He wasn't about to move on from that. No so easily. Not so soon. Not until he had dig through every last bit of **** and had something to quell his nerves.
"You saved drafts. You ever think to send them?" he hissed quietly, voice barely above a whisper. "'Cause how in the **** would drafts and pictures have helped otherwise?"
MERRY
The emotions warring inside her felt like the sunshine trying to break through a storm, cloud coverage stopping its rays from touching the earth below. The fear flashed across her psyche, the rumbling rage at being so unkindly treated, treated as if she were a piece of property. She wasn’t HIS property. Felix made soothing sounds, trying to shine his light on her to settle the desire to lash out. She’d almost settled, almost listened to the man and taken the mild abuse, because with his hand on Baxter’s cheek breaching that divide she thought there might be a chance at calm. She was wrong, and Felix was losing the fight. His whole body tensed as Bax moved away, dropping the hand like he’d been electrified by the man’s cold departure and yet the contact was fated to be returned, though the intention was she knew was not to comfort or console. It was to command. She’d felt that touch before.
The hand that came around his throat could not be ignored, it was threat and control. It became Merry’s primary focus and took all of Felix’s lingering power to maintain the connection with her. He couldn’t let go just yet, he wasn’t ready to give up on Kendal. He pressed into that hand almost challenging it to tighten, to cut off the words he wanted to speak. There was no way in hell he’d let himself be silenced, not now that he’d found a voice, not even as Merry begged him to keep the bad man from hurting them. She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t go BACK. The internal struggle was showing through only in the tensing of muscles, the clenching of jaw and that goddamn lower lip that didn’t seem to want to stop quivering pathetically. ”Phone died.” He scraped the words from his throat, raw ragged from the effort of forcing them out. The panic was showing through, eyes beseeching his, ”Please look at them. I didn’t get a chance… I didn’t…” There was a choking sound, a struggling sound and then a shoulder was lifting.
It wasn’t just a shrug, no, the momentum in the jerk of muscles kept travelling and a fist was lifting, swinging with deadly aim intended to deliver a blow against the man’s ear. Merry’d had enough, and the fear, the fury was winning out. By tooth and nail if she had to, she’d get those commanding hands away from them.
KENDALMerry > Another PC > Easy > Reactionary/Awareness > Kendal > Smackdown > Failed
This was a familiar scene. A familiar feel of smooth skin pressing against the breadth of his palm and the warmth of his fingers pressing down like they intended to sear through the sallow flesh and leave signs of his presence behind. Gone was the cheeky grin, the twinkle of mischief reflecting off of pools of endless sapphire. Gone was the knocking against his fingers as they tightened their grip, the way he'd lean in and whisper something meant only for Baxter's ears. It was replaced with quivering, trembling, like a lone leaf on a branch in Fall, and just as fragile. It only served to make the Blood Paladin's temper rise. Felix wasn't weak. Felix had never been weak. To see him in this state made him want to pick the man up and pitch him across the room. Fight, he wanted to yell at him, fight! Fight it. Fight what though? Death? (If only.) The walls of his walls seemed to contract, pulling closer together and cutting off his shallow breaths.
There was begging now. "I didn't get a chance…" He was pleading, choking on his words, on fear maybe, maybe on some level of turmoil. It should have felt good, to know that he was struggling just as much as he was, that he was feeling pain too. Because how dare he make him hurt? How dare he ruin what was a carefully crafted, albeit fragile, composure? How dare he be able to even touch the porcelain mask, let alone crack it? But the sight of Felix only made the fissures grow and multiplying, ebbing out and threatening to shatter his facade entirely. This is why you didn't let hapless, reckless, careless pretty boys get too close. How had he not learned his lesson?
He saw it coming from the corner of his eyes. It was a blur of a flesh-coloured motion. He'd been in that position too many times to not know what was aimed for the side of his head. He ducked his head immediately, Felix's fist narrowly missing his ear, one knuckle just barely grazing over the edge before shooting out into the air. Baxter's lips peeled back with a low hiss, canines sharpening to points before he lunged forward, the joint of his shoulder aimed for Felix's abdomen in an effort to stun the man.
Kendal > Another PC > Easy > Reactionary/Awareness > Merry > Defensive maneuver meant to stun > Succeeded
Kendal > Another PC > Moderate > Physically demanding > Merry > Attempt to pin to avoid getting his *** kicked > Succeeded
His shoulder made contact with Felix's stomach, sending them both hurtling towards the ground. Both bodies hit the floor and Baxter twisted deftly, his forearm pressing across Felix's throat with just enough pressure to pin him down. "Calm the **** down." he snapped. And then there was a slight shift in his wild eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you." he said in more relaxed manner.
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Re: You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
MERRY
Trying to control the situation was like trying to keep hold of a writhing, slippery eel and Felix was barely keeping it in his shaky grip. Not to mention the hysterical Mystic that was cursing in Romanian in his head. Her head. Their head? Felix didn’t know anymore, and Merry wasn’t much better off. He realised that she had primary control, that he was basically hitching around in his own body and it sucked. Whereas she was trying to grasp the strangeness of controlling his body, and trying to claim it as her own. The hit had missed, the fist barely grazing by as Kendal reacted and then it was all a blur of motion.
The air left him in a loud whoosh as that shoulder slammed into his stomach, the driving force Bax put behind it putting the vampire to the ground, the sudden collision and resulting pain as he hit the deck left both Merry and Felix briefly stunned. It was just long enough for the paladin to scramble into place, pinning them as Merry tried to buck and shove at him, wanting to keep fighting. Even Felix was in the mood to fight now, frustration mounting as the situation got more and more ridiculous by the second. Merry was still in a blind panic, Bax’s words barely breaking through the haze of it, Felix re-feeding them to her as a promise. He never hurt me that bad, never wanted to break me. Break him. Felix shook like a leaf, a sudden and violent tremor before the body stilled.
The words were trapped behind clenched teeth, forcing him to push them through. ”You did. He did.” A broken sound parted his lips further, those fangs cracking opening his gums and elongating to be bared, fresh and blood stained. There was something reminiscent of a wild animal in the expression, the way his chest heaved and he struggled weakly. Felix and Merry found they had something in common in that moment, both of them had been subject to the violence of man, hands laid on them with aim to control and subdue, to harm and hinder. Merry learned her lesson, though, she learned to react in fear and run for the hills. Felix wasn’t quite so lucky, because as he soothed and settled the Mystic, as he got her to listen, he realised it was all because he wanted to talk to Baxter. Even if the touch was harsh he wanted to lean into it. He wanted it.
”Just charge the ******* phone, Ken Doll. Merry here ain’t up for this ****, poor darlin’ has had a rough ride and she ain’t about to roll over for another man. Believe me, i’d roll around on the floor with you all night if it were up to me.” The shifts between them were clearer now, Felix’s tongue flicking over a fang, poking at it with an expression that seemed to scream “what the actual ****”. Fangs and a flustered female? This was what he got for getting his *** dead.
KENDAL
He found himself staring into those deep pools, entranced, caught up in the waves like they were tangling around him and pulling him down to the abyssal trenches they hid away. Soon enough he knew he'd drown in them, desperate to resurface so he pulled away from Felix with a sharp motion, releasing the man from the pin as he fell back to a crouch, watching the other like a cornered animal, ready to strike. "I don't… you can't be here right now, Felix." he breathed out. He couldn't believe what he was saying. He was speaking to a dead man. A man, who up until a few minutes ago, he'd known to be gone. And yet here Felix was, making demands. As usual. Just like old times. You know, before he was dead. "I can't be calm while you're here. And if I'm not calm, I can't help either one of you." he admitted before he stood up on his feet and went back over to his desk.
He paused at its side, considering before glancing over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Merry. I never meant to hurt you." he then took a seat, pulling out his phone to text Renato before he set the device down. It was a feeble apology but it was there. The woman really had just been caught in the crossfire. "Okay, so we need to contact a Mystic. What else?" he didn't look up, brows pulled together in a furrow as he focused his attention on the monitor to his computer, scrolling through various listings.
MERRY
Being rejected by Kendal Baxter was one of the few things that Felix Sharpe genuinely feared. That his charm couldn’t worm it’s way passed the man’s icy exterior, that he couldn’t incite passion or anger when affection was out of the question it terrified him and he couldn’t say why. Maybe it was because he’d never faced off against someone quite like him, sure he had elements of others, there were things that he could say he had in common but the way those quirks were put together was entirely new and entirely more difficult to navigate. It was what made winning him over in any sense all the more thrilling. It was also what made that rejection, the request for him to not be here right now make Merry feel the tortured, sick to you stomach kind of hurt and the dusting of honest to god fear that had her scrambling away until her back hit the door once Baxter released them. Felix was unhappy. She tried to reach out and swore that she could feel her hand in his, that he was giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. “I’m ok”, he said, “I just... Give him a chance, darlin’. He’s trying to help, in his own way. I just stress him out. Tell him i’m tuning out but i’ll talk to him later. When he wants me.” Merry wasn’t entirely comfortable with this message, but she agreed.
The apology surprised her, drawing her back to the present, to her lip stinging where a fang pressed into it, chewed at it. He was saying sorry, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to accept it or ignore it. “It is not ok. I will not say it is, but thank you for the apology. I accept it.” His head nodded, a stiff and stately gesture that seemed out of place on Felix. Baxter had been listening after all, Merry sitting up some to watch him, not quite confident enough to move or stand just yet. “Da. A mystic. I know someone, but I think that it may be better to anonymously ask for advice. There is a group, on the computer, where you can speak with others like me…” She paused then making a quiet little noise of distress, “I do not think you should know about this. You do not know, da? A secret.” His hand lifted, one fingertip pressing against lips as she made a dramatic shushing sound to make her point clear. He was to keep the secret. The fangs were still present, a new and strange addition to Felix’s face, but the posture of the mouth was more relaxed and little by the little the rest of him did too until he was finally able to get shaky legs beneath him and draw himself up. Moving over to the desk was done with caution, slipping into a chair after the briefest pause in case Baxter would protest.
“Are you going to help us? Felix he… He said he is “tuning out”, but he will talk to you when you want him.” Not the perfect rendition of the message, the meanings blurred but she was confident he would understand. The two men seemed to know each other well, in fact she wondered how well.
Somewhere in the back of her mind Felix scoffed bitterly.
Trying to control the situation was like trying to keep hold of a writhing, slippery eel and Felix was barely keeping it in his shaky grip. Not to mention the hysterical Mystic that was cursing in Romanian in his head. Her head. Their head? Felix didn’t know anymore, and Merry wasn’t much better off. He realised that she had primary control, that he was basically hitching around in his own body and it sucked. Whereas she was trying to grasp the strangeness of controlling his body, and trying to claim it as her own. The hit had missed, the fist barely grazing by as Kendal reacted and then it was all a blur of motion.
The air left him in a loud whoosh as that shoulder slammed into his stomach, the driving force Bax put behind it putting the vampire to the ground, the sudden collision and resulting pain as he hit the deck left both Merry and Felix briefly stunned. It was just long enough for the paladin to scramble into place, pinning them as Merry tried to buck and shove at him, wanting to keep fighting. Even Felix was in the mood to fight now, frustration mounting as the situation got more and more ridiculous by the second. Merry was still in a blind panic, Bax’s words barely breaking through the haze of it, Felix re-feeding them to her as a promise. He never hurt me that bad, never wanted to break me. Break him. Felix shook like a leaf, a sudden and violent tremor before the body stilled.
The words were trapped behind clenched teeth, forcing him to push them through. ”You did. He did.” A broken sound parted his lips further, those fangs cracking opening his gums and elongating to be bared, fresh and blood stained. There was something reminiscent of a wild animal in the expression, the way his chest heaved and he struggled weakly. Felix and Merry found they had something in common in that moment, both of them had been subject to the violence of man, hands laid on them with aim to control and subdue, to harm and hinder. Merry learned her lesson, though, she learned to react in fear and run for the hills. Felix wasn’t quite so lucky, because as he soothed and settled the Mystic, as he got her to listen, he realised it was all because he wanted to talk to Baxter. Even if the touch was harsh he wanted to lean into it. He wanted it.
”Just charge the ******* phone, Ken Doll. Merry here ain’t up for this ****, poor darlin’ has had a rough ride and she ain’t about to roll over for another man. Believe me, i’d roll around on the floor with you all night if it were up to me.” The shifts between them were clearer now, Felix’s tongue flicking over a fang, poking at it with an expression that seemed to scream “what the actual ****”. Fangs and a flustered female? This was what he got for getting his *** dead.
KENDAL
He found himself staring into those deep pools, entranced, caught up in the waves like they were tangling around him and pulling him down to the abyssal trenches they hid away. Soon enough he knew he'd drown in them, desperate to resurface so he pulled away from Felix with a sharp motion, releasing the man from the pin as he fell back to a crouch, watching the other like a cornered animal, ready to strike. "I don't… you can't be here right now, Felix." he breathed out. He couldn't believe what he was saying. He was speaking to a dead man. A man, who up until a few minutes ago, he'd known to be gone. And yet here Felix was, making demands. As usual. Just like old times. You know, before he was dead. "I can't be calm while you're here. And if I'm not calm, I can't help either one of you." he admitted before he stood up on his feet and went back over to his desk.
He paused at its side, considering before glancing over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Merry. I never meant to hurt you." he then took a seat, pulling out his phone to text Renato before he set the device down. It was a feeble apology but it was there. The woman really had just been caught in the crossfire. "Okay, so we need to contact a Mystic. What else?" he didn't look up, brows pulled together in a furrow as he focused his attention on the monitor to his computer, scrolling through various listings.
MERRY
Being rejected by Kendal Baxter was one of the few things that Felix Sharpe genuinely feared. That his charm couldn’t worm it’s way passed the man’s icy exterior, that he couldn’t incite passion or anger when affection was out of the question it terrified him and he couldn’t say why. Maybe it was because he’d never faced off against someone quite like him, sure he had elements of others, there were things that he could say he had in common but the way those quirks were put together was entirely new and entirely more difficult to navigate. It was what made winning him over in any sense all the more thrilling. It was also what made that rejection, the request for him to not be here right now make Merry feel the tortured, sick to you stomach kind of hurt and the dusting of honest to god fear that had her scrambling away until her back hit the door once Baxter released them. Felix was unhappy. She tried to reach out and swore that she could feel her hand in his, that he was giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. “I’m ok”, he said, “I just... Give him a chance, darlin’. He’s trying to help, in his own way. I just stress him out. Tell him i’m tuning out but i’ll talk to him later. When he wants me.” Merry wasn’t entirely comfortable with this message, but she agreed.
The apology surprised her, drawing her back to the present, to her lip stinging where a fang pressed into it, chewed at it. He was saying sorry, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to accept it or ignore it. “It is not ok. I will not say it is, but thank you for the apology. I accept it.” His head nodded, a stiff and stately gesture that seemed out of place on Felix. Baxter had been listening after all, Merry sitting up some to watch him, not quite confident enough to move or stand just yet. “Da. A mystic. I know someone, but I think that it may be better to anonymously ask for advice. There is a group, on the computer, where you can speak with others like me…” She paused then making a quiet little noise of distress, “I do not think you should know about this. You do not know, da? A secret.” His hand lifted, one fingertip pressing against lips as she made a dramatic shushing sound to make her point clear. He was to keep the secret. The fangs were still present, a new and strange addition to Felix’s face, but the posture of the mouth was more relaxed and little by the little the rest of him did too until he was finally able to get shaky legs beneath him and draw himself up. Moving over to the desk was done with caution, slipping into a chair after the briefest pause in case Baxter would protest.
“Are you going to help us? Felix he… He said he is “tuning out”, but he will talk to you when you want him.” Not the perfect rendition of the message, the meanings blurred but she was confident he would understand. The two men seemed to know each other well, in fact she wondered how well.
Somewhere in the back of her mind Felix scoffed bitterly.
DisasterDoll//Formerly Felix
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Re: You're a Shark and I'm Swimming (Kendal)
KENDAL
"You're a vampire." he glanced up at her when he heard the troubled noise at the back of her throat. "The secrecy between vampires and humans has been… lifted in your absence. Granted, it's still not a good idea to go out there and belt out that you drink human blood but you don't have to worry about that with me." he paused in consideration. "Actually, on that note… we should maybe talk about that… whole deal." He said as he took out a copy of the newspaper he'd saved the day the news of vampires living amongst humans in HR broke, sliding it across the desk to Merry. "I assume you know about Paladins. They are more active now than before.. which might actually explain why there were hunters on you and Rene." His brows pulled together. "I'll make sure to send you out with escorts next time around." Merry was, by association, still somewhat Baxter's liability; she carried Felix's soul, apparently, as well as inhabiting his body. And Felix was very much his. Dead or alive.
Baxter's stare lingered on Merry, as if to look past her and sear the very centre of what he could only assume was Felix's soul. He wasn't as angry as he had been minutes ago, his anger as quick to fall as it was to rise, but he was, however, disappointed that the man had decided to make an appearance with zero warning while Baxter had thought, this entire time, that he was dead.
"I don't think I'd be able to help you access vampire… media, however. I can get Renato to help you with that. Once you guys are able to find a Mystic though we can set off to figuring out how to... fix your problem." He managed to ignore the comment about Felix's sulking for all of two minutes before sighing, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the side of his thumb. "If he's not listening, then let him know I'll speak to him when I'm done speaking to you. I assume, currently, you are the dominant handler of the body so it's imperative I speak to you about what we do before he wants to come out and 'play'." The last word was dripping with a derisive tone. "We have a lot to get done before still waters."
MERRY
Felix WAS sulking, because sulking was better than falling into the deeper, darker feelings that hovered in his hollow centre. All he had control over was his feelings, and the little influence he could exert over Merry and his body. Her body. Damnit, would that ever get less confusing? Neither of them knew, and it was her return to settle him in her mind, to remind him they were trying to figure it out. They would figure it out, they had to. The sentiment was very much shared between them. Even with this potential he knew hope was a risk and tried not to hold onto any, but that just wasn’t his style. Felix was an optimist, he was the guy who always found a way because he had to. That was the only choice. Now? He felt the fear like a suppurating wound, unstageable and oozing viscous dread. It bled through the gauze and bandages he slapped over it, tainting every other feeling that tried to cover it. Would it ever heal? It was as any outcome would be a pyrrhic victory, as either way they would lose. Together they could live a half life, share experiences and perhaps make something of it, or if one spirit was expelled then the other remained and had to deal with the horror of dooming the other.
It was a steaming pile of horse ****, basically, and now it sat in their laps. All of their laps.
Baxter was speaking and Merry pulled her focus back to him, listening, nodding gently to his words. Paladin. Of course she knew of them, and the risks they presented, though blood thieves could also be dangerous to her kind. Was that not what he was? She had observed him, but had not asked. Had not dared. Kendal Baxter frightened her, he was an untouchable sort and while that made her want to care for him, to crack through that ice and make him see not all the world was bad she also knew how painful it was to try. Had Perry not been the same? No, he wasn’t the same, he was warmer. Sadder, too, she decided on second thought. Baxter hid his emotions far better, all but those bursts of violent anger that seemed to overwhelm him. It wasn’t her fault, Felix told her, he was just trying to deal. Merry understood, or at least she tried to understand and when she spoke showed him greater patience and respect. After all, though his methods were rough he was trying to show care and keep her alive. Keep Felix’s body and memory alive.
”The Mystics, I can do this. I do not need your help to contact them…” His mouth turned up in a smile, one that was polite and cautious all at once. ”I will tell you what they say, mm? We can discuss a plan. Together. I would like your opinion, and so would Felix.” It was clear to Merry that was true even without Felix saying so, for no matter how much he seemed to want to push at Kendal he did respect him. While she couldn’t completely trust him, she trusted Felix. Hard not to when she could hear his thought, could feel his presence walking beside her through the world that had grown so scary. Baxter spoke of secrecy revealed, something she had thought may happen eventually but was unready to think through the implications. His finger pointed idly at the article, ”I can borrow this? I will read alone. If you do not mind, I need to think of what it means to me. She would, in the privacy of the room she stayed in read and absorb the information. Already she’d looked at the forum on the phone he’d given her, heard her peers in the vampire community discussing it.
With decisions made and moods settled there was one more matter she needed to bring up, one she dreaded because of the volatile and mercurial nature of Baxter’s mood. Felix’s greatest wish, a word she’d thought was her own mind reminding of what she did not have. Home.
”Mr. Baxter, there is one other thing I must ask you. It is for Felix… He says he wants to go home. You need to help him go home.”
"You're a vampire." he glanced up at her when he heard the troubled noise at the back of her throat. "The secrecy between vampires and humans has been… lifted in your absence. Granted, it's still not a good idea to go out there and belt out that you drink human blood but you don't have to worry about that with me." he paused in consideration. "Actually, on that note… we should maybe talk about that… whole deal." He said as he took out a copy of the newspaper he'd saved the day the news of vampires living amongst humans in HR broke, sliding it across the desk to Merry. "I assume you know about Paladins. They are more active now than before.. which might actually explain why there were hunters on you and Rene." His brows pulled together. "I'll make sure to send you out with escorts next time around." Merry was, by association, still somewhat Baxter's liability; she carried Felix's soul, apparently, as well as inhabiting his body. And Felix was very much his. Dead or alive.
Baxter's stare lingered on Merry, as if to look past her and sear the very centre of what he could only assume was Felix's soul. He wasn't as angry as he had been minutes ago, his anger as quick to fall as it was to rise, but he was, however, disappointed that the man had decided to make an appearance with zero warning while Baxter had thought, this entire time, that he was dead.
"I don't think I'd be able to help you access vampire… media, however. I can get Renato to help you with that. Once you guys are able to find a Mystic though we can set off to figuring out how to... fix your problem." He managed to ignore the comment about Felix's sulking for all of two minutes before sighing, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the side of his thumb. "If he's not listening, then let him know I'll speak to him when I'm done speaking to you. I assume, currently, you are the dominant handler of the body so it's imperative I speak to you about what we do before he wants to come out and 'play'." The last word was dripping with a derisive tone. "We have a lot to get done before still waters."
MERRY
Felix WAS sulking, because sulking was better than falling into the deeper, darker feelings that hovered in his hollow centre. All he had control over was his feelings, and the little influence he could exert over Merry and his body. Her body. Damnit, would that ever get less confusing? Neither of them knew, and it was her return to settle him in her mind, to remind him they were trying to figure it out. They would figure it out, they had to. The sentiment was very much shared between them. Even with this potential he knew hope was a risk and tried not to hold onto any, but that just wasn’t his style. Felix was an optimist, he was the guy who always found a way because he had to. That was the only choice. Now? He felt the fear like a suppurating wound, unstageable and oozing viscous dread. It bled through the gauze and bandages he slapped over it, tainting every other feeling that tried to cover it. Would it ever heal? It was as any outcome would be a pyrrhic victory, as either way they would lose. Together they could live a half life, share experiences and perhaps make something of it, or if one spirit was expelled then the other remained and had to deal with the horror of dooming the other.
It was a steaming pile of horse ****, basically, and now it sat in their laps. All of their laps.
Baxter was speaking and Merry pulled her focus back to him, listening, nodding gently to his words. Paladin. Of course she knew of them, and the risks they presented, though blood thieves could also be dangerous to her kind. Was that not what he was? She had observed him, but had not asked. Had not dared. Kendal Baxter frightened her, he was an untouchable sort and while that made her want to care for him, to crack through that ice and make him see not all the world was bad she also knew how painful it was to try. Had Perry not been the same? No, he wasn’t the same, he was warmer. Sadder, too, she decided on second thought. Baxter hid his emotions far better, all but those bursts of violent anger that seemed to overwhelm him. It wasn’t her fault, Felix told her, he was just trying to deal. Merry understood, or at least she tried to understand and when she spoke showed him greater patience and respect. After all, though his methods were rough he was trying to show care and keep her alive. Keep Felix’s body and memory alive.
”The Mystics, I can do this. I do not need your help to contact them…” His mouth turned up in a smile, one that was polite and cautious all at once. ”I will tell you what they say, mm? We can discuss a plan. Together. I would like your opinion, and so would Felix.” It was clear to Merry that was true even without Felix saying so, for no matter how much he seemed to want to push at Kendal he did respect him. While she couldn’t completely trust him, she trusted Felix. Hard not to when she could hear his thought, could feel his presence walking beside her through the world that had grown so scary. Baxter spoke of secrecy revealed, something she had thought may happen eventually but was unready to think through the implications. His finger pointed idly at the article, ”I can borrow this? I will read alone. If you do not mind, I need to think of what it means to me. She would, in the privacy of the room she stayed in read and absorb the information. Already she’d looked at the forum on the phone he’d given her, heard her peers in the vampire community discussing it.
With decisions made and moods settled there was one more matter she needed to bring up, one she dreaded because of the volatile and mercurial nature of Baxter’s mood. Felix’s greatest wish, a word she’d thought was her own mind reminding of what she did not have. Home.
”Mr. Baxter, there is one other thing I must ask you. It is for Felix… He says he wants to go home. You need to help him go home.”
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