Down in the Underground [Jesse Fforde]

[Aine (DELETED 7786)]

Hunger.

It wasn't hunger, but that was the best description for it. A desire for something. A hunger. A need. It didn't help that what Aine hungered for was...well, the best word for it was unholy. Some might even go so far as to label the hunger demonic. But now, at least...she could admit to what she hungered for.

The blood of a vampire.

The slight Irish blonde knew there had been portrayals of vampire blood as an addictive substance. Now that vampires were all over the media, it was still difficult to live the way she did. Searching the sewers for an easy feed. One hand lifted up to her mouth, pressing the pad of the digit against the side of one fang - nowhere near as long as the ones vampires had, as her Faolan had - to check its sharpness. A tiny bead of blood welled up on her skin, and she actually stuck her thumb further into her mouth, sucking it clean.

She wasn't like a vampire; she couldn't track her prey the way they could. No heightened senses, a lack of the necessary magic some of them seemed to have. She relied on stumbling upon them. And she could practically feel that the figure just up the tunnel from her was one of them. The figure was male, his distinguishing features hidden by the dark sewers, only just visible by the fact that there was an exit grate nearby.

Very quietly, she inched along the edge of the tunnel, trying to barely breathe as she approached. The approach was key. Don't be seen, don't be heard, don't let the vampire know you're there, not immediately at least. Ideally, not until you've already disappeared, but that was almost always impossible. She made her way closer, ever closer, until she was right beside him. She closed her eyes - and paused.

That feeling.

Almost a sensation of mild revulsion.

It made her stomach turn, roil, curl in on itself.

She opened those blue eyes, looking up at him with inquisitive, half-feral eyes. "Jesse?" From Serpentine. The tattoo artist who moonlighted as bartender sometimes. She couldn't help licking her lips, still half-pressed against the wall, her quiet breathing turning into soft pants of air. "Are you..?"

She didn't dare speak the word.

[Jesse Fforde]

<Jesse Fforde> The end of secrecy was inevitable. It was kind of amusing, too, in a vaguely frustrating kind of way. Jesse didn’t want to think about how many years of his life he’d wasted. Had it been years? It wouldn’t have mattered if he was still a member of Tytonidae, it still would have happened. Where, really, had their goals gotten them?

How to react. Jesse didn’t know how to react. He didn’t have a solution, nor the wherewithal to lead any pro or anti force. He and Clover – aka Fox and Tiger – had attended a meeting of anonymous strangers, had signed their names to a faction called A.R.E.S. That was more his style, to join a cause that someone else had set up. As stubborn as he could be, Jesse was good at taking directions, and he could be led if under the right leader. They hadn’t heard anything more from A.R.E.S., however, and due to the anonymity factor there was no way for him to contact whoever had been in charge. Had it been a farce? Had they all been drawn there to be tagged, somehow, to be hunted later? A hurdle he’d have to leap when they got to it, he supposed.

Surely, people were doing things. Surely there’d be some other cause that he could join. But which one? He was still torn, confused. Did he care that humanity now knew that vampires existed? Did he care about getting along with them, or would he prefer to see vampires rise up and rule? The latter seemed more appealing – but Jesse had kind of let his chaotic side loose. Anarchy, for the win.

The sewers, these days, didn’t offer Jesse much by way of challenge. He only used them sometimes to get from one place to another, or if he needed specific ritual ingredients that could only be found in the muck and mire of human offage. This was what he was doing when he was greeted, his name uttered, half a question asked. He turned and narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out whether he knew the person. The face looked vaguely familiar. The name was gone. He was awful with names.

“Am I….?” he shook his head, playing dumb. He took a step toward the woman, slowly. Human. The sewers really weren’t a great place for her.


<Aine> "Are you...what they're saying on the news? Not...not specifically about you, but about different people in the area," she said. Oh, how she ******* hated that word. It almost sounded dirty, to be honest. Looking down for just a moment, she took a deep breath. Tried to settle herself, calm her nerves. Don't panic, keep cool, she repeated over and over in her head. Not that the mantra was doing anything for her. After a moment, she spat it out, mouth opening wide enough to show what Aine had termed her baby fangs, just long enough from the rest of her teeth to be good for grabbing flesh - "Vampire!" And then she clapped a hand over her mouth.


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse laughed. How could he not? She spat the word out like it was a dirty one. Like she was going to bring the sewers crumbling down on top of them, just by saying it. She fumbled her way through the question, and Jesse was thoroughly amused. But was amusement all that he could feel, or was he annoyed, too? Was this what it was going to be like? Now that they knew, now that humanity might learn to pick them out of a crowd, were they going to come asking? Knock at his door, gush, ask questions? "And if I am? Just because we're all over the news doesn't make us any safer," he said, drawing closer still. He hadn't missed those baby fangs, glinting in the low light. He couldn't help the sinister smile. "But you're no stranger to vampires, are you?"


<Aine> Running her other hand nervously through her hair as she let the one clamped over her mouth fall, mouth open still as she tried to breathe. "I was going to ask," she said softly, looking down again, "if you're more powerful than the weak ones down here. The ones who're easy enough to catch." A low moan escaped her, something she would have held back if she had fed more recently. "It's not often I see anyone other than them down here. ****, it's not even often I see anyone who isn't human. I rarely even see other humans like me nowadays." And she looked up at him again, those blue eyes shimmering a little in the light. "I never went for anyone but the ones down here...and my boyfriend. Who I haven't seen in...months. At least two."


<Jesse Fforde> The smirk only widened, Jesse's own teeth gleaming. His gums ached, his canines sharp -- even the mere thought of being bitten or biting had his thirst rearing its insatiably greedy head. His shoes scuffed against the cement of the sewer floor as he came to a halt, his hands hanging loose at his sides. The sword he carried when hunting was strapped to his back, and the gun in a holster beneath his arm. "Hunters probably got him," he said, bluntly. So often was he accused of not caring, he'd stubbornly strapped the mantle around him, making it his own. If they couldn't see the ways he did care, then they'd see him when he didn't care at all. He was feeling playful. He was feeling reckless. He lifted his chin, the hood falling from his head. "Go on then," he said, tilting his head to the side, baring his neck.


<Aine> The flinch when he mentioned hunters wasn't major - her eyes squinted closed, and she moved back into the wall, ever so slightly. She didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think about the implications that had. But when he stepped forward, baring his throat...damn it all, her mouth was watering. She wiped her lips with the back of a hand, swallowed, and looked up at him, eyes momentarily questioning, as though asking if he were serious. Before she reached up, grabbed his shoulders, and lifted herself the distance to get her mouth on his throat. She usually did this from behind, or on the arm, those were so much easier, especially with someone taller. But as she sank those fangs in, she let out another quiet moan. Oh, ****, he tasted like a god, he was definitely stronger than these others wandering the sewers. ****, she didn't know if she would be able to stop.

[Aine (DELETED 7786)]

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse didn't duck down. He didn't make this any easier than it already was -- he was still trying to remember the woman's name. It would come to him, eventually. Maybe. He'd probably have to ask her for it again. She pulled herself up to meet his height, and when her baby fangs sank into flesh he closed his eyes. It was a strange feeling. It was unusual, but not a bad one. For a good half minute he just stood there, allowing the blood thief to think she was going to get away with it scot free. But Jesse was hungry, too. Jesse was always hungry. After the half minute, his arm slid around the woman's slight waist. His head bowed, teeth bared. He gave no warning. His longer canines pierced through tender skin, hot blood hitting his tongue like a long lost aphrodisiac. Fresh blood was the best kind. His bite often had other effects, too -- if it took, so be it. If not.... well, it was not meant to be.


<Aine> Breaking her hold on his throat with a gasp, she dug her nails into his shoulders and fought the bubbling urge to scream. Why should she, really? What he was doing was no different than what she had been doing. "Oh, gods," she gasped softly, eyes scrunching closed as she forced herself to remember how to breathe. But she was breathing in those short pants again, her heart thudding faster. After what felt like minutes, but was more like fifteen seconds, she dipped her head back to his neck as best she could and just...kept drinking. It was like an addiction; it had to be fed.


<Jesse Fforde> He could have drained her dry. He wanted to -- that urge was always there, and more often than not, it was sated. He drained his human prey until there was nothing left, and then he snapped their necks and burned their bodies. It was something he'd failed to do with Snow, and now he was waiting to see if he'd made a mistake in letting her live. If anyone asked, he'd laugh it off -- he had shucked himself of his curse and yet he still kept siring. They would think nothing had changed. They would think that he had relapsed. He would say it was only a timing thing, that it was accidental, that it was a whim and who the hell cared, anyway? He had given up on 'family', on creating something cohesive. It's what he told everyone. It's what he told himself. One of these days he'd have to admit that he never did stop caring, or wanting. He'd have to admit that was why, after a good five minutes of blood sharing, he grabbed Aine by the waist – Aine, yes, he remembered now -- and pushed her back. He'd taken a little more than he should, but not enough to kill her. And she'd have taken enough from him for it to not matter. He lapped the excess blood from his lips, let her go, and took a step back. "You know where to find me, yeah?"


<Aine> "Serpentine, right?" she asked, wanting to make sure. "Are you there every night? What's going to happen?" She was largely confused. Why was he letting her go? The man who'd shown her how to do this, he'd told her that most vampires wouldn't want someone out there with their blood in them. So, momentarily, Aine considered, leaning against the wall, one hand to her forehead. "Did you do something more than just bite me? Is there something I don't know about?" Some secret? Gods, she felt so powerful right now...like a superhero. A little giggle burst out of her, unable to be contained.


<Jesse Fforde> "Maybe. Maybe not," he said, the slow smile there and then gone again. With Cosette, it had taken a day. With the bite, the poison was slow to work. The change took time, it wasn't immediate. And besides, Jesse didn't know whether it would be the same with blood thieves; normally a few mouthfuls of blood were enough to turn a person, but blood thieves were different. They could take it, just for its power, and go back to being regular humans again. Maybe she would be immune, but maybe she wouldn't. He shrugged. "You'll know. And I'll be there. If I'm not there, someone can call me," he said, head canted to the side, watching. She seemed to be enjoying herself.


<Aine> "Your blood is almost intoxicating," she bubbled, licking her lips and leaning back against the wall of her own volition. "Why didn't I know there were vampires who tasted like that? ****. I won't even lie...I want more." She looked up at him, begging, just for a moment, before she shook herself. "No...no. Need to...need to go home..." And she turned towards the sewer exit they were near - still several feet away - and started half-walking, half-staggering towards it.


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse took that as a compliment. Had anyone ever told him his blood was intoxicating before? Maybe, but it was something he could now add to his list of pros. He chuckled when she said she wanted more -- but he wouldn't give it to her. If she came into Serpentine and was absolutely fine, maybe he'd consider it as a future alliance. If she came in and she was sick as a dog? She'd have a whole week ahead of her, feeding on nothing but his blood. Wouldn't that make her happy? As she wandered toward the exit, Jesse went the opposite way. "Maybe I'll see you soon," he said. "Don't go home. Go have some fun," he said, voice trailing over his shoulder as he walked away, and rounded the corner.

[Jesse Fforde]

<Aine> She was sweating. Yes, it was late June, but this was Canada. She shouldn't be sweating buckets like she was now. Her hands were shaking, fingers too unsteady and slick with a sheen of sweat to really do much of anything. She'd been like this since noon, and knew that, most likely, the person she needed to talk to wouldn't be up and active until after sunset. So she'd stuck it out, leaning against a wall to try and absorb some of the chill held within the stone, and once the sun went down? She made her way to Serpentine, staggering through the door and trying her damnedest not to collapse into a mass of sweat. Blue eyes half-lidded, she glanced around, looking for the tattoo parlor area before she started walking there. Walking like either a drunk person or a zombie. Or a drunk zombie. But looking like she should probably be bundled up in bed.


‹Jesse Fforde› Jesse had only just got to work -- like every ordinary person he had to have time to wake up and shower, get dressed, sometimes make love to his sweet doting wife, before coming into work. He stood at the front desk, leaning idly against it as he flicked to the calendar, checking to see what he had scheduled for the night, if anything. He looked different to what he had in the sewers. In the sewers he'd been armed and dressed for combat. At work, he was dressed casually, his hair slicked back and his shirt crisp and clean. As the door from the bar opened, letting in a blast of music, Jesse glanced up. A wicked grin cracked his lips. "I wondered whether I'd see you so soon," he said. "Feeling under the weather?" he asked. Though he didn't really have to ask.


<Aine> "You asshole," she blurted, stumbling to the wall and smacking her hand into it to support herself. "What the ever loving **** did you do to me?" Not like she could really control what she was saying, fever-addled as her brain was. She was panting again, this time slower, and almost a bit more laboring than the quick gasps of the night before. But there wasn't really a rattle to her lungs, for which she was grateful.


‹Jesse Fforde› "I really like to think I'm a bit like that Spider from Spiderman. Except instead of a spider, I'm a snake," he said, idly. It was something he'd thought about before -- he rather enjoyed the fact that though the venom from his teeth failed to help humans forget him, it had a whole other power. It could turn them, when most people had to go through the whole drain one dry and re-feed process. Even though that had been Jesse's preferred method, once, he now wasn't entirely fussed. "No need to be angry," he said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "You said yourself you were struggling to find a good meal. That you wanted power, and were sick of being weak," he said. She hadn't said those exact words, but it was the meaning he'd gained from what she wanted. A more powerful vampire to feed from. "Eventually you'll have that power permanently. If you're strong enough..." No need to get ahead of himself. She still had to make it through the week, and so many hadn't in the past.


<Aine> Spiderman. The analogy was there, so obvious, but it took her a minute to grasp exactly what he was saying. The spider had made Peter Parker more like itself. It still took time to grasp, because her brain was moving slow thanks to fever, but she got it. "You mean...I'm becoming like you?" She still couldn't say that single simple word, oh so simple. Oh so small. Thrown about like candy after a smashed pinata by the general population. As he spoke, those words registered faster. Power. Food. Never needing to worry about going to the grocer's again. "You're serious?" The two words blurred together, as her vision twisted slightly. "Oh, gods, why is the room spinning?"

[Aine (DELETED 7786)]

‹Jesse Fforde› "Unfortunately the bite -- my bite -- has it's side effects," he said. He still hadn't figured out why. Why did it take his a week to turn, now, instead of instantly? It wasn't normal. It never used to be like that. He figured he'd reached some limit, his blood didn't work like it should anymore. Maybe it had thinned out too much, the magic of it. But he couldn't say that he hated it. No, he liked weeding the strong from the weak. Even though he'd prefer it to weed out the loyal from the disloyal, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "You're going to be sick. I'm not going to sugar-coat -- you could die. If you don't, it just means you're stronger than most," he said. He already had his phone out, texting Nancy, telling her to get to Serpentine as soon as possible. He had a couple of appointments, but they'd have to be rescheduled.


<Aine> Illness. Death. Nothing that couldn't come for her anyway. "I feel like death," she said, her body moving back into the wall and sliding down, until she was half-crouched there. She couldn't stay standing anymore. Swallowing thickly, Aine looked down at her legs - she hadn't changed from the denim and tee from the night before, still wearing the same shoes even - and then up at Jesse. "Can I call my da? I...he's probably worried sick. I haven't called him in months..."


‹Jesse Fforde› "And say what? 'Da, I'm turning into a vampire, I might not live. Just to keep you in the loop'?" he said, affecting an Irish accent while he did so. His own voice was husky, never fully healed from its decade in rust. He wasn't completely heartless, though. He supposed she wanted to have just one last conversation in case she didn't make it. Fair call. But if she hadn't talked to him in months, then perhaps this was her punishment. Nancy had just been next door, apparently -- she breezed in from the pub and took one look at Aine and rolled her eyes. Jesse cut her off before she could make any judgments. "Nancy, shut up. I have appointments -- reschedule them for me," he said. He didn't ask, he commanded. After which, he rounded the counter and reached out for Aine's hand, ready to haul her up off the floor.


<Aine> Grabbing his hand with the one that wasn't still stretched up the wall, she tried, and failed, to lift herself from the floor. When she flopped back, she smacked her head into the wall with a thud, but didn't wince. It hadn't been too hard a hit. "I left home for Da's sake. I knew my little problem was causing tension in town with all his friends. That and Ma died for me. But...I owe him."


‹Jesse Fforde› "That didn't answer my question," he said. Unless she was agreeing that she'd say exactly what Jesse joked she would say. There was that rising urge to tell her she couldn't, that it wasn't allowed, that she couldn't tell anyone she was a vampire. But there was no point in that anymore, was there? "C'mon, get up. You can't stay here. I'm taking you home," he said, this time leaning down to wrap his arm behind Aine's back, to manhandle her and yank her up off the floor with pure force. It wasn't as if she was heavy. From his pocket he pulled two tomes -- the spare one was still there, the one he'd intended to give to Raven and which he kept on him just in case he saw her. He handed it to Aine instead -- he'd make a new one later. "Read this at the same time I do. And try not to throw up on the other end."


<Aine> "Throw up? What? I haven't even eaten anything," she admitted, leaning on him just for a moment before pulling away, the tome heavy in her slick hands. "Hope I don't drop it," she blurted. Fever was not good for the mental filter.


‹Jesse Fforde› “Because you’re about to be yanked through space. Read it along with me, okay?” he said. She was clearly out of it, and sooner rather than later he wasn’t going to be able to get much sense out of her at all. He wanted to get her home before that happened. Either way, it didn’t really matter. She had the tome in her hand. She was looking at it. Jesse had a hold of her. The magic pulled them both through, and within an instant they landed at Third Circle. Jesse shuffled Aine toward the elevator, hitting the button. He’d take her to Limbo – he’d take her to the bed that Snow so recently had vacated. God. What was wrong with him?!

[Aine (DELETED 7786)]

"Whaddyo-"

That was all Aine was able to utter before they were pulled through what was essentially a wormhole from one point to another. "Holy ****!" she burst, looking around at the strange, new place, before being hauled over to the elevator. Once inside it, however, her knees tried to give out, and her hands clutched at Jesse's shoulder.

"Okay, seriously, this is not what I would expect," she giggled, her head rolling about some on her neck. Like she couldn't hold herself up straight. The queasiness in her stomach was definitely there, but her body was probably on a delay, because after a few moments inside the elevator, those blue eyes were darting around.

Even in her half-lucid state, she seemed to be looking for a trash can, as one hand lifted to her mouth to stifle the sensation as best she could. "I feel yucky," she babbled, the sound of the words muffled.

[Jesse Fforde]

"...Please don't," he said. The elevator wasn't one of those fancy ones with numbers -- it was more old school, and bereft of mirrors, of course. That would only be torture for the vampires who lived, the only people who used it were vampires. Aside from the thralls, of course, but Nancy had never complained about the lack of mirrors.

Thankfully they only had to travel one floor -- one floor, and the doors were sliding open again. They revealed a vast space that looked like an underground warehouse. The floors were clean, however, the wood shining and only spattered a little bit with paint. When Jesse had done a number with the graffiti on the walls, he'd done his best to keep the floor covered so as not to ruin it. But he hadn't been in the best state of mind back then. When one had such a low disregard for his own life, the floor meant even less. Each wall had a different mural, the images swirling into each other, fitting together smoothly. There were Norse themed trees, there were flames, and a prominent focus on snakes. Through all of the different murals there winded, in the background, scales. They looked like mere background flourishes up close, but if one stood back and fit it all together, they would see that they belonged to one huge snake. The world snake. Jormungandr.

Jesse had seen the walls on so many occasions, he didn't feel the need to stop, now, to admire them. Instead, he was busy pulling Aine's arm over his shoulder and trying to stumble with her toward the bathroom. If she was going to throw up, she could do so there -- and clean herself up in the process.

"Nearly there. Just wait until you're at the toilet," he said. Any kind of explanation could wait until she didn't feel the need to throw her guts up. Jesse really wasn't in the mood to clean up vomit.

[Aine (DELETED 7786)]

When one was about to throw up, there was no time to stop and smell the roses - or take in a gorgeous mural. And in hindsight, Aine would admit the mural was a masterpiece. But right now, all the little blonde cared about was getting to the suggested toilet before...for lack of a better term, exploding. She stumbled and staggered next to him as he pulled her to the restroom, at which point she gave a momentary giggle. She did not voice the thought, but she had a moment of irony - why would a vampire have working bathrooms in his home? Unless he did this a lot.

Once they were in the restroom, she practically collapsed in front of the toilet, very quickly bundling blonde locks in one hand as she leaned in close. And just in time, too, as she almost immediately expelled what amounted to just stomach acid through her maw. "I should've eaten something," she gasped between heaves, the hand not on her hair clinging to the toilet bowl.

She spent almost eight minutes, she'd bet, with her face in the toilet, even though after the first minute or so all that came up was air. She didn't want to mess up his bathroom, weird as the idea was. Still, once she was done, she rested her cheek on the side of the bowl, and looked over at him. At Jesse. "Done," she murmured. "So done. That was all stomach acid." Blue eyes were half closed and barely focused, but the half-smile there was pretty teasing. "Is it like this for all of you?"

That was a stupid ******* question, she told herself. Faolan would've told me.

"Need to stop thinking about that," she mumbled, curling herself up in front of the toilet. A few moments later, she gathered the strength, and shoved up to her feet, moving quickly to the sink in case she collapsed like earlier. Using cold water, the coldest she could manage, Aine washed her face and rinsed out her mouth of the horrible taste of stomach acid. "Anything I can wear that isn't saturated in sweat?" she said after the fifth time gargling and spitting it out.

[Jesse Fforde]

Jesse leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, while he waited. He could have played nurse. He could have held Aine’s hair for her. He could have gone to get the clothes and things that she might need, prepared for when she needed them. Instead, he just stood there and waited, half reminiscing. Aine at least had it slightly better than he did. But then he had been turned in his own home – regardless of whether he was forced to bleed out, watch all his blood swirl down the drain like some kind of weird suicide. Strange, now, to think that he had trusted Phoenix. The woman had sliced his throat and she could have just left him there.

Strange, too, after all the things she’d done, all the arguments they’d had, after all the times he told himself he loathed her, that he kept thinking about her. His sire. What if none of it had happened? What if, right back at the very beginning, there had never been a forced choice between Tytonidae and Altaire? He’d probably still be there. He’d probably still be on good terms with her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the lilting Irish brogue.

”Hm? Yeah… your body only really wants blood, now. That acid was foreign to it. It had to get rid of it,” he said with a vague shrug. It was the best conclusion that he had come to – it’s what had happened in all those Anne Rice books. He was beginning to wonder whether the woman didn’t actually have some vampire friend who fed her all her information. Some things weren’t right, though. Some things were different.

”It was the same for me,” he said. ”Kind of. I was only sick for a night. This, for you, is going to last all week,” he said, almost managing to sound apologetic. Mostly he made it sound as if it was going to be a walk in the park. It was a lie.

”I’ll get you some of Clover’s clothes,” even as he said it, he wondered what Clover would think. But it was the one cupboard he knew he had the freedom to raid. ”You can stay in here and shower if you want – I’ll bring the clothes and leave them outside the door. There’s a room over there –“ he said, pointing to the north wall of the second floor. There was only a bookshelf. But it would be open, soon. It was a secret door, through to a secret room. Though it wasn’t really secret, because most fledglings he brought home used it. It was secret to strangers, though. A good place to hide.

”I’ll be waiting. You’ll need blood,” he said. He lingered only if Aine had questions.

[Aine (DELETED 7786)]

A week.

A week of lying in bed, motionless, sick.

Well, **** that! She fought the urge to scream those exact words, even as she stood on shaking legs and moved to the shower, stepping into it before she stripped. Not even caring that she was probably being watched. She needed to get rid of this sticky sweaty feeling. It really didn't matter if she was sick for a week, if she wasn't covered in sweat the entire time.

Scrubbing through her hair and over freckled skin with the soap, Aine made herself stay standing until she turned off the water. Only then did she allow herself to sink down for a minute, hugging her knees. Processing what was happening to her.

Her body was dying. There was a high possibility she'd never see Faolan again. An even higher possibility that she wouldn't see her father again. She'd be drinking human blood from now on. She'd never see the sun, probably.

After a few minutes to process this information, she climbed out of the shower, retrieved the clothes, dressed, and not-too-steadily made her way across the room. Even showered, she looked positively worn out and not entirely like she was handling it well.

"Well, there's that," she said, moving to lean against a wall.