Swan Song [Lyonel]

[Blaize]

The skin felt like rubber as he continued to chew at it, summoning more of the blood from the woman’s body. Even as it nourished Blaize, even as he could acknowledge how good it tasted, it still felt incredibly wrong. Even as his fingers curled into the woman’s hair to clutch at it, to wrench her head sideways so that neck of her was arched and open to the vampire, he felt like he was watching the whole scene from an omniscient corner. This wasn’t really him, was it? This wasn’t really happening.

The request for fangs did not go unnoticed. It elicited from Blaize a growl of displeasure, the frustration of the evening failing to ease. Wasn’t it supposed to? The blood should have helped, shouldn’t it? And though he could feel the warmth flinging through his limbs, although he wanted to suck in a lungful of air and scream and laugh and cry, all at once, he stayed where he was. He continued to chew at that skin and gulp lungfuls of hot blood, pushing past the guilt and the shame and the pain that he caused this Jolie who did not deserve it.

The body in his grasp had grown limp but it did not stop him. Blaize wasn’t a particularly kind person and there were plenty of things that he had done in his life that he should not be proud of, but this was one of the worst. To him, as natural as Lyonel made it sound, this was not right. It was so, so wrong, so much so that when he felt the strong grip on his shoulder he only felt relief.

The dancer let go of his prey, almost pushed away from Jolie as he stumbled backward. Stumbled, with only a sting and a friendly ache to remind him that his leg had been broken near clean in half. Blood dripped from his lips and smeared his chin. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, sucked blood from between the cracks. The back of his hand did its best to wipe away the remainder, though it only succeeded in making a bigger mess.

Somewhere, a clock ticked. A cricket chirped. The hair stood up at the back of Blaize’s neck, all down his arms, his legs. The aches within were slowly subsiding, the migraine all but banished. The scent of blood was still thick in the air and though tempted to look elsewhere, Blaize was fixated upon the mess he’d made of Jolie’s neck. It looked like a wild animal had been gnawing at her, the skin torn and shredded, muscle glistening beneath. The dancer cringed. He could have run a marathon but instead he sat back down, elbows on his knees and hands over his mouth, staring, aghast.

”… is she going to be okay?”

[Lyonel]

The results of what a lack of a lethal set of fangs could actually do was hard to ignore but did little to disturb the killer. Jolie usually would not remember anything except perhaps she offered to do something and wouldn’t be able to recall what exactly it was. It generally would be about as significant in her memory as forgetting to take the trash bag out with her as she ventured from the back door to her car. But this time likely would stick a little more than the rest. Lyonel watched her closely while Blaize situated himself on the sofa once again.

Lyonel was hardly as attuned as full fledged allurists to the emotions of others. Despite that fact there was no denying that the swan looked as if he was the cause of some tragedy that was not in his plans or intentions. He quickly held onto her physically while replacing the relic that kept her protected. So far she was dazed and confused but not going anywhere. The material of her robe was adjusted and her limp limbs tucked into the same position he often found her curled into when she had drifted off to sleep. His body stood tall as he mentally prepared to gather what she would need to regain what she would otherwise miss.

Lyonel West knew it was not uncommon. It wasn’t too far off from how he went through his first feeding. Some took to a hot vein like a fish to water without a second thought of the life attached to it. For others it took a little coaxing to come out of the starting gates when a hot meal presented itself to the predator in all of them. Unsavory as it sounded that was in effect what they were. Predators. One could claim they were less so because they managed their need through the convenience of plastic contained preserved blood. Or they chose to feed from their own kind under the slowly fading radar of disapproval as some subtle defiance that they were turned to begin with. In the end something had to lose for them to gain. Hunter, predator or whatever helped the one in question to sleep through the daylight hours was still destined to rise and seek out what would give them back what they lost over the hours or nights that passed by.

The transfusion bags were labeled with Jolie’s particular blood type. He took out one and closed the cooler that it had been waiting in. He managed to collect a blue disposable latex free tourniquet from a small drawer as well as a sterile packaged 20-gauge needle and tubing needed to perform the procedure he could do by now with his eyes closed. As he did he glanced over to Blaize and figured it was as good as time as any to break the news to him. This was only the first time. He had an eternity ahead of him full of moments like the one that had just took place.

“It is something you will get used to despite what is going on in your head right now.” The sound of his fingers snapping against the inside crook of Jolie’s right elbow filled the brief silence that was left when he went quiet. The needle was easily placed and the transfusion was taking place without any hitches. “As for Jolie don’t worry. I got her covered and she will be sent back where her blue ribbon cake is likely about to go up in smoke.” He glanced to the sparkling custom Rolex on his wrist out of habit more than need. “She will be coming out of it and will be back to her old self.”
“You are so god damned lucky.” The bewitching regulator in the woman seemed to be ditching the task of governing her words. Lyonel gave a slow nod to Blaize as if he expected as much. Whatever had her typically compliant was not exactly showing signs of being fully operational when her chocolate orbs came to view after their lids snapped up like cheap motel shades. “Now send me back before I tell you both what I think.”

She narrowed her eyes at Blaize while the transfused blood worked through her tapped vein. She didn’t even dare reach for the wound at her neck to inspect it. The warm air burned the exposed surface. She was alert enough to know that the salt and lotion on her fingers would only serve to remind her she had been gnawed on by a set of teeth that needed some serious sharpening before they were setting on her again. She had tended to far worse wounds than the tenderized muscles in her neck. Antiseptic, gauze and paper tape patchworking did the trick for most left by bullets and melee attacks. The neck of course would be an easy fix. All it required to hide the stiffness or residual bruises is to be topped off with a strategically placed silk scarf at her neck. Nothing cheap or off the general department store shelf either. She stood up and found she was staring at Lyonel’s lower chest. That didn’t deter her. It served as a target if anything. Her warm hand swatted at the mass of cool hardness in front of her hoping it would take a hint and move out of the way.

“Get him a set of fangs. Don’t send him out there like that.” She growled as she stepped around the killer and folded up her arms quickly as if she were waiting longer than reasonable to be dispersed. “You know where to have the scarves sent. Don’t send yellow.” Her eyebrows lifted slightly signaling it was time for him to do his thing. The wound was clearly following the typical expectations of fading while they watched her standing there. “Well?”
“That went better than I anticipated.” As Lyonel spoke the mystical power of teleporting Jolie took over and she disappeared from their presence. “Well, sort of.” He winced. “I think she was delivered a bit short of her expected destination. She runs like the wind so that is a good thing.”

[Blaize]

Blaize watched Lyonel’s movements with a morbid fascination. As soon as that hot blood entered the dancer’s system the consequences of his decisions hit home. It should have happened when he’d tasted the blood of the vampire, when he’d swallowed that thick cruor that would change his life forever. And yet, the consumptions of a vampire’s blood was supremely different to the blood of a human, hot and fuelled by fear and that very instinct that gave life. This would be Blaize’s sustenance from now on.

The Swan thought he knew about vampires. He thought he knew what they were capable of and what they were not, but he was beginning to realise that his romp in the sheets with that one particularly frisky female had only served to scratch the surface. This man could summon people to his side with barely a whisper, and could send them away again without the use of doors or windows. One second the woman was there, the next she was gone – though her reprimands and sharp words were left behind.

”Better than you anticipated?!” he asked. Before he even knew what he was doing, Blaize was on his feet. The ache in his leg was not nearly as bad as it had been. He wouldn’t be dancing yet, and there was a healthy limp in his frenzied pacing, but he was on his feet. The miracle was not lost on him, it only added to and compounded to the flurry of emotions already present in his head and heart. Some good, some bad, all tangled together in one glorious mess.

”I tore out her neck,” he said. He could have mentioned the bees he thought buzzed beneath his skin, no longer skewering him with their stingers but instead infusing him with their energy. He had to pace because he could no longer sit still. Jolie might have been not bag of blood but instead a full vial of adrenaline.

”Is that normal? The … the fangs, do they come later? Do I have to grow them…?” he asked. He trusted that Lyonel had done as he said and that the woman would be fine. It was horrendous, what he had done, but it was not the end of the world. Not yet. No one was dead, and Blaize could leap further hurdles when they were presented to him. For now, he would focus only on what was right in front of him – would ask the questions he needed to ask in order of importance.

[Lyonel]

“It is one of those things you find out in the process the first time. Some do, some don’t. It is what makes us all unique.”

Despite the young male's pacing Lyonel moved quick without any notice. Probably faster than a body should under the eyes of another but it didn’t concern him. The fresh vivid blues watching him would soon be used to how vampires darted about leaving nothing more than a blur at times when on their feet. So much of this world Blaize would soon be immersed in. The broken dancer now was officially a participant in an environment that could be more than he dreamed of and equally cutthroat all at the same time. In order to fly to heights he had the potential to reach Lyon needed to inform him of what was out there.

“I have heard of fangs coming in later. It is something you have to adapt to for now.” He returned to the room with a damp cloth, his body solidifying instantly in front of Blaize. He offered up the cloth for any clean up needed or general relief. “Here.” Once it was turned over and his hand was empty he settled back into the seat behind him so he could continue to keep his focus on the one he was responsible for, the one that had appeared to have found his feet once again. “I would say it went better than I expected, yes. My first time was enough to land me on a bounty list. It was a really bad night.” A slow shake of his head at recalling it inspired a brief chuckle as his body sank back into the supportive cushion behind him. “You need to keep in mind despite the awareness that is out there for vampires there is also a world we sit and spin on that isn’t entirely elated that we exist and we don’t sparkle.”

The buzz of information that needed to be served to Blaize and subsequently absorbed spun around in the killer’s mind. All of it was important and much of it would save the young and fangless a lot of the trouble he first found himself in when Wolfgang claimed him years ago. Blaize would need to know about the options available to him to avoid the public spectacle of gnawing on a body thanks to his current flatlined bite. Hopefully he would not be opposed to the suggestions he was about to offer.

“We can work around that whole messy ordeal of what for lack of a better word at the moment will be referred to as feeding.” His long arms stretched like a set of wings on a predatory bird still unseen then dropped down to rest as expected on the arms of the chair beneath him. “Jolie was basically an exercise in confirming you could accomplish what would be essential to your survival if all else failed. To avoid that and the attention it would bring I suggest you go two routes. One I can provide sufficiently within my properties. It is sourced from the various shops around the city. Blood is packaged for our consumption and sold. It can be expensive but will save you the time trying to gnaw through a neck or whatever. The second route would be animals. We seem to be able to find benefit from it but there is a catch. It takes more of them and work. The animal dies so no awards for animal lovers to be had” His face wears the faint expression of dissatisfaction at the prospect from given history. “It is palatable to some but I prefer what I do and stick with it.” He releases the pent up air in his lungs slowly. “At first you will likely need to feed nightly to maintain your strength and a comfortable energy level to move around as you become accustomed to. I, for example, can skip several nights and barely notice it or be hindered.” A pause was given and taken. Lyonel wanted to make sure the one across from him was still with him in the current conversation and any questions were given the chance to be asked.

[Blaize]

The absolute calm with which Lyonel explained everything was infectious. Blaize couldn’t remain a pacing knot of stress and anxiety with the elder man so calm and at ease. Everything was laid out in a straight line and despite the crudity of it, Blaize would get through it. Each gory detail was considered as he took deep breaths and released them slowly. After everything else he’d witnessed that night, watching Lyonel whip in and out of the room like he was teleporting himself somehow was the least of Blaize’s concerns. He barely blinked an eye, even if the absurdity of It registered.

He followed Lyonel’s movements and finally settled on a couch nearby. The dancer was both energised and exhausted and he didn’t know which took priority right now. His body was still adjusting.

”I’m not about to go try gnaw through anyone’s neck in public any time soon,” he said with a shudder. Even now he ground his teeth together as if to try to rid himself of the sensation of chewing through thick skin. The notion of blood bags appealed most – at least those could be sucked through a straw. Animals? What kind of grotesquery would be required to eat animals? Chewing through skin and fur would be worse than just the skin, unless he hung them by hooks and slit their throats like stuck pigs. That, too, elicited a shudder. He leaned back and closed his eyes, palms flat beside him. Everything felt so different.

”Bounties, eh?” It was all a little more complicated than Blaize anticipated, but it was all to be taken in stride. Blaize was nothing if not a hard worker, and he would work hard at this, too. At understanding what he’d chosen to become. Lyonel seemed a good sort, and everything he said he did so with a ‘we’. He wasn’t going to leave Blaize to figure it all out on his own.

”What is it that you do?” he asked Lyonel. He didn’t eat animals, so he must have feed from live prey or from bags. Blaize was intrigued – but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He had a feeling, even now, that this whole ‘blood’ business was going to be his biggest hurdle.

[Lyonel]

Lyonel welcomed the question asked of him as he remained comfortably seated across from Blaize. It was one of the first he would have asked if the roles were reversed and they once were. The answers he received from the Old Man would stick with him for however long his size size twelve and then some feet kept him upright and taking in nourishment. Which in this case was the very topic at hand. Blood. So just where did Lyonel West he get his from? The answer was rolling off the movement of his pronounced lips as he looked at Blaize. The hard lines of his chiseled jaw conveyed a strength was present within beyond the features that framed his face. With each pause of his voice the dancing of the small muscles at the space beneath each ear lobe returned.

“I have had the pleasure of finding my chosen sources consistently receptive over the last few years and I will also say I never take it for granted. A bit of advice for you to either take from me as bankable and hopefully it serves you equally well or you chance it and ignore it altogether.”

It was rather nice to be able to say such given his particular situation of needing it just like any other vampire young or old. Perhaps he had a little more lasting power than his young swan giving him the luxury of going four days or longer without. It didn’t change the fact that in the end, when it came down to the bare bones of it all, he would do anything to get his fair share just like any other set of fangs looking to tap the first available vein. The West borne killer had a few powers at his disposal that made it far easier than it was years back. He could charm the collar off just about any neck if he was tested. If that didn’t pan out then he was strong enough to take what he wanted. However he had a set of manners on him that was hard to find on the average street fighting thug, which is exactly what he once was. His existence was generally problem free now in the aspect of feeding. He had no need to go too far from the pleasantries that worked rather well. Sustenance was so readily given in copious amounts he felt confident that given some time to develop the same skills his own blood, Blaize-the beautiful and soon mended swan, would find the same worked for him as well. The world around him was his smorgasbord. It was Lyonel’s role as sire to invite him to the table and discuss the dining options.

“Jolie is wonderfully accommodating but she is not that way with anyone else. I can go into the reasons why and the relationship she and I have later when it is applicable. I prefer warm, willing donors. I find they are those random souls you find alone in the park as you stroll by. Another source would be the individuals on the street that seem to have no particular purpose or acquaintances around to draw alarm or attention.”

Lyonel paused his words and allowed his tongue to subtly curl over the surface of his bottom lip to pull it in with the contact. This is the moment where he would admit had not the dancer been so injured he still would have likely found him appetizing nonetheless. Given certain conditions, of course. With all the manners in the refined world he was still a predator at the core and he was looking at his finest meal he ever had the pleasure of consuming.

“And for those with a particular taste in mind there are those out there that are rare and worth waiting for if possible.” A subtle hiss of air taken into cool lips and lungs broke through his confession. “Those like me and well…” His celadon eyes fixed tight on Blaize. “You.” His index finger found the pad of his own thumb capturing something so small on the arm of the chair he sat in that it was all but invisible. He released it to the empty space beside him figuring now was a good time to ask what he wanted to know of the one he recently turned. “How do you feel knowing that? Honestly, there are relics, which I will go into later, items that can spare you the routine of needing to feed. I do not possess one despite the means to do so. Truth be told, Blaize, I enjoy it.” His gaze steeled on the man sharing the room with him. "More than you could possibly appreciate right now."

[Blaize]

A little calmer now, Blaize listened with the attentiveness of a devoted student. School had not been a high point in Blaize’s lifetime career -- studies had fallen behind his obsession with dance. But in that studio? You wouldn’t have found a young man more willing to learn, and to perfect. He was harder on himself than any of the instructors, and sitting there in front of the confident, powerful Lyonel West he had a feeling it would be much the same dynamic. Blaize would be devoted to Lyonel for saving his career, would do his best never to disappoint the man -- and would punish himself for any mistakes made before Lyonel ever heard of them.

At first Blaize was confused before the words sunk in and he understood. Lyonel had a way with people. He could seduce the blood out of his victims, and they would give willingly. Given Jolie’s reaction to Blaize, the dancer doubted the woman would be keen to give him another shot. Pink lips were pressed tightly together as he considered his options -- whether he could be as successful as Lyonel. He had his doubts, but nor had he tried. One never knew unless they tried. Practice. Try, fail, try again.

“I’m not sure I’ve experienced enough to give you an honest answer,” he said with a shrug. He’d only ‘fed’ the once and it had been an insurmountable disaster. The need for blood outweighed and overwhelmed any perception of pleasure or distaste. Deep down, he understood his own vague reaction -- the blood had been satisfying, it was an agreed-upon requirement. But the way he had gone about getting it? No, he hadn’t liked that. The texture of the skin as he’d had to chew his way through it was one of the most unpleasant things he’d ever had to do. His bright gaze was hard, however, and coldly calculating. He wet his lips with a tongue still tainted pink from blood, and slowly shook his head.

“It’s one small aspect, isn’t it? The leg is healing. It’s what I wanted. I can dance. I’ll be dancing again by next week. I can soar, right?” he even laughed. “I feel… powerful. I have more strength. More energy. Greater stamina. Even if I hate it, taking the blood of others, it’s a sacrifice I would make ten times over,” he said. There was no quaver in his voice, no uncertainty. He was here, now. This was a path he had chosen, one that he would have no issue with if that choice was taken away from him.

[Lyonel]

You can do it without killing someone. Keep that in mind. Sure, they may be subjected to the foggy headed side effects of blood loss and late for whatever they were intending to do before you got your hands on them but other than that they generally are no worse for wear.” A brush of his lengthy fingers down the top of his thighs had his body following forward just enough to sit straight. “Your gift is enough to have you doing anything given enough time and determination.” He thought of the larger than life shadow that had claimed him years back. Old words surfaced in his brain he doubted when he first heard them but now they rang true as he repeated them. “You use all of it to its full potential and you could easily exceed anything I have accomplished. It is all up to you. And I, for one, hope you do.”

The challenges of what was ahead for Blaize were coming through in the questions he fired off about healing, his future and all that went with it. From the sounds of it the reality of what happened to him, what was enstore, was starting to sink in. It was a good sign. No tears were present, no whining about who he had to say goodbye to, no last minute loose ends that needed tying up. He was all but prepared to fly as if he just earned his wings to do so with his nearly instant acceptance. Lyonel figured it was time to toss a little more kindling into the swan’s growing fire. If the dancer continued to hang in there and take the heat he could be a Phoenix in record time.

“Now we get to the part where some true work is involved. Hopefully an adherence to some basic points will keep things manageable for you in this leap you feel prepared to take.” It seemed that Blaize was ready to do it right then and there if given half the chance. “You have some leeway given the awareness level has taken over of humans and us but as I said before it wasn't always the case.”

His hands joined rubbing the coolness of his open palms together. A slow rotation of his wrists brought the length of his fingers together so they could weave comfortably together. There was still so much to cover. The killer was reminded of its importance in going over the details as he met a set of wide vivid blue eyes staring back at him in expectation. How idiots could go around turning any warm body they got their hands on he would never truly understand. This was huge. Bigger than anything he could imagine doing again anytime soon.

“You mention your career and life that revolves around dancing. There is no reason for that to change completely but keep a few things in mind. Things that will stand out to others even more than you. I mentioned it briefly before but here again it applies to you. I cannot stress enough you may feel invincible but you have nothing over the power of natural light or its consistent and merciless source. You could be experiencing your greatest moment ever and you will be KO’d without exception. The same effects will be there through the duration of the lights hours. So if you are one to push limits you will find the corrections painful and possibly awkward. Watch your time and take it seriously. You will not be able to attend daytime functions and you will be questioned as to why. Be prepared to give creative answers. Not everyone will understand the simple truths. Don't expect them to accept it if you offer it. You have changed, not the world around you. You have a weakness that is currently unavoidable. Anything during the day you will be oblivious to. Everything short of someone physically setting your *** on fire. Even then you will lose a fair amount of skin before you figure it out and act on it. So don't soar just yet. Take care and focus on the immediate issues at hand.”

[Blaize]

Weakness. Blaize did not like the word, but there it was, laid out on the table for all to see. Weakness would come in the form of sunlight, and that one truth was enough to nearly topple him. Day time. That’s when the auditions were. That’s when the classes were. It was when all the ordinary people practiced, only those dedicated to their art working late into the night. It’s when the rehearsals would be. The matinees, were he to get a part. Day time hours for a professional dancer were a requirement.

Blaize’s jaw tensed as he stared at the other man, the words he himself had just spoken now feeling flat and useless. To have power and stamina beyond one’s wildest dreams were no use if one could not use them to continue on the path they had previously chosen. What was he supposed to do, now? He shook his head.

”Why would I have to be creative with the answers? You said so humans were aware. If they’re aware, why shouldn’t I be able to just… tell them?” not that it would matter, he mused. Even if it were a widely acceptable excuse, it would be a point marked against him. Directors would want their lead dancers to be available twenty-four seven. If Blaize couldn’t even get himself out of bed when the sun was in the sky, then what use would he be?

One severely broken bone and now his life was changed forever. It was a lot to take in. Sacrifices were made but there was a lot to be gained, too. He pushed himself to his feet, weight balanced mainly on the one foot. The ache in the remaining leg reminded the dancer that it wasn’t so long beforehand that he couldn’t have stood at all. There’d be no giving up for the blonde; he was not the kind of person to give up, nor to wallow. When things went wrong, Blaize forged through. He found another way. He was far too confident in himself to let weakness get the better of him.

Still, he needed time.

”… doesn’t matter. They still wouldn’t give the part to me, regardless of the excuses. Can I go home? There’s a lot to take in. And I’ll have more questions. I just… I need to think about what I’ve already learned. I need to… come to terms with this,” he said. He wanted to go home. He needed a long shower. He needed to think.

[Lyonel]

“Really?” Lyonel felt his spine stiffen at the response he didn’t quite expect. The man is now infinitely stronger and full of promise. Yet he was about to settle for defeat? That is not something Lyonel would accept. “What happened won’t change your ability to perform on stage, just the times in which you do it. If you apply what I am revealing to you it is entirely possible to rise to heights you never imagined in terms of success. Not just on stage but in every aspect. I tell you of the risks and the realities of what you potentially will face out of responsibility. It is not to deter you.”

Lyonel did the same thing several years back. Even though he didn’t have a place to physically return to once the fangs popped out he did have a life beforehand. His family, namely his parents, were still alive and well back in New York. As much as he loved and respected them he also knew there would be no acceptance for what he had become. He made the choice to be one of the lost and save everyone a lot of grief.

Even then the comforts of being human still called to him and lingered. Simple things he had taken for granted were out of his reach. Early morning sunrises. The sounds of the birds chirping. The early light seeping through the spaces where the drapes failed to provide a barrier. Warm water, the ability to rest on familiar sheets and the most importantly feeling comfortable in his own skin. The latter would not come for awhile. That above all else took time. He could inform Blaize of this but it wouldn’t register as much as the experience of time passing and proving it. There is a transition period and awareness that must take place for the creature one inevitably becomes.

“You can, yes.” Celadon orbs landed on Blaize as the tall killer moved from the spot he had been occupying. “Or you can take my advice and allow yourself the time needed to adjust in a place where you will be safe until you are ready to go home. I can assure you there is no place safer at the moment than with me. Allow yourself the time to heal as you succumb to your first rest. It will arrive soon.” His wrist lifted to confirm what he said while glancing at his watch. Not that he needed the pricey reference. By now Lyonel knew how much time was left before the sun found their world. He felt it to his very core. “I will prepare your room.”

There was no need for further discussion. By evening Blaize would rise with his appetite and more questions. The world as it would be for longer than the swan could appreciate would be waiting for him to reappear. Lyonel would be there if needed and standing in the shadows if not. Whether or not Blaize realized it, he would never be alone.