On Tour [Breno]

[Blaize]

Blaize watched Breno with no small amount of anxiety and dread. He’d projected hope and optimism but deep down, he was thinking about all the things that could go wrong. If Breno ended up with no fangs like his sire; if the whole experience broke something inside of him and rather than come through it with flying colours, he’d instead be crippled by overwhelming guilt and a desire to go back to the way he was—with no way of achieving that. More than that, he could destroy the life of an innocent man, and by default affect, in no good way, all the lives connected to him. They could be witnessed there, in that alley. Someone else could come out of the doorway, someone else could round the corner. They could be spotted, a commotion could be made, and all their attempts to get out of that club would be for naught. They would have been found and prosecuted anyway.

Blaize followed behind Breno at a slower pace, keeping his distance and keeping hidden. As soon as Breno made his move, Blaize picked up the pace so that he was nearby if help was required; so that he was nearby should Breno go too far. Close enough that he, too, could hear the human’s beating heart and would be able to tell if it started to struggle.

Thankfully, before Blaize had to pull the fledgling vampire away from his first meal, Breno had done it for himself anyway. The man had slumped to the ground. Somewhere in the process of the feeding he’d dropped his cigarette, the glowing red butt of it near one of his prone, outstretched hands. Blaize stomped on it to keep it from burning him or anything else.

”No, you did good,” Blaize said, squeezing Breno’s shoulder reassuringly. ”He’ll be unconscious for a while and when he wakes up, he’ll have no memory of what happened,” he said. Of course, that never happened for Blaize. Without his fangs, he lacked the ‘venom’, or whatever it was, that allowed other vampires to get away with feeding without being remembered. Their victims were dazed and confused. Most of the time, Blaize’s were just terrified and/or furious.

”We should leave,” he said, leading Breno out of the alleyway. ”How are you feeling…?” he asked, concerned for the other’s mental wellbeing.

[Breno (DELETED 9529)]

So he didn't kill the guy, good! Breno sagged his shoulders with relief as he stared down at the man. It would make sense that there was something that altered the victim's memory; how else had vampires been hidden for so long? It was sort of fascinating, really. He made a mental note to look into it more later as Blaize guided him out of the alley.

Breno did a quick self assessment. The bloodlust wasn't near as strong now, and while his senses were still as sharp as before, there wasn't as much of an urgency as before. "...I think I'm okay? This will definitely take some getting used to, but..." He paused briefly as he gathered his thoughts. "I didn't kill that man, even though I easily could have. I don't regret anything." He looked up at Blaize as they walked. "Thank you for saving me. You didn't have to, but you did. I'll always be grateful for that." It may not have been the most ideal position anyone would have asked for, but he was still able to walk around and experience the world. Perhaps more so now. A thought crossed his mind. "Perhaps I could dance again..." he said quietly, almost to himself.

[Blaize]

Blaize smiled, but it was a tight smile. He nodded. ”Good,” he said, glad that Breno would at least be able to adjust to this life without guilt crippling him, and shame following him wherever he went, no matter what he did to try to assuage it. Blaize himself would forego feeding, and he wouldn’t admit to himself that it was a bad idea. But he would at least try to wait until they were back in Harper Rock before he attempted to feed, now that Breno was no longer an option.

He then glanced down at Breno’s leg; Blaize couldn’t claim to be an expert, but he wondered what kind of injury it had been, that a vampire’s blood could have healed it after so long. But, he figured – if a vampire’s blood could heal cancer and every other death wound, why not this one, too? The smile broadened into something a little less tight, a little more genuine.

”Perhaps you will. You could come help me at the studio,” he said. If Breno was in need of a job, that was. But it was an idea, something to explore once they returned to Harper Rock.

”We should get back to the company, find out what we’ll do next,” he said. He doubted they’d stick around for too long. ”You and I will travel separately to the rest of them, as we have been. To keep away from the sun. But there’ll be plenty of time, at least, if you have any questions…” he said, trailing off.

[Breno (DELETED 9529)]

Breno smiled at the mention of the studio. Sure, he was a teacher before this, but now there was a chance he could actually dance, actually show people what he was trying to tell them. Suddenly he was very impatient to get back to the rest of the company and find a chance to try it. It had been so long. "Things are probably back in some sort of order by now," Breno agreed. They were getting close to the club now and he could faintly hear commanding voices and crying people. Now that he had something to eat it shouldn't be too difficult to be around the blood. Hopefully. "I'll definitely have questions, but nothing that can't wait until later."

In a short amount of time, they returned to the club, where the entire building was closed off and a crowd of people gathered at the edges of the barriers. Those in the company that weren't rushed to the hospital were off to the side slowly getting checked out by paramedics and bandaged up. It seemed that the majority of them were fine, just shaken. Brent quickly made sure there wasnt any residual blood on his mouth; no need to worry or distract the paramedics.

[Blaize]

It seemed like hours that they were retained and questioned before the company were finally released, finally able to properly regroup and gather their bearings. It was decided, thankfully, that the tour would be cancelled. As grieved as Blaize was that the director was dead, there were more pressing concerns. Why he felt the need to get Breno back to Harper Rock as soon as possible he couldn’t know. In the end he concluded that though he would happily forfeit his own life should death accidentally find him outside of Harper Rock’s safety net, it wasn’t a gamble he was willing to take with the life of another.

Although Breno could have died as a human—had nearly died as a human—and it really didn’t make a lick of difference, Blaize’s paternal instincts had kicked in. Strange, to think of such instincts coming into play on behalf of a grown man. So he didn’t think about it that way. It would just be easier to explain and to teach Breno the ways of vampirism when in the city that seemed to have become the unofficial home to the vampires. Help could be found there, if required, and a routine could be established until Breno had properly found his feet.

Flights were organised; some of the company’s members stayed behind to travel with the director’s body as it was flown separately back to Harper Rock. Some remained so that they could take a small holiday. Blaize and Breno took a longer route home, making sure to keep to flights that only had them in the air and landing while the sun was below the horizon.

Back in Harper Rock, Blaize focused on his own studio and, with a few whispered words with those in power, he stepped into the role of director of Harper Rock Ballet Academy. Responsibilities were a blessing. They kept him distracted and busy. Breno himself was hired by Blaize, the two spending more of their time together now not as feeder and feedee but as friends and colleagues.