let me bleed for you.

It started out a considerably good day - a nice night of sleep, waking up to a pretty face, sharing a cup of coffee and a bang before work - but as he finally gets clear of the mutant horde and strolls up to the Lady's polished doors, he's greeted by what looks like the markers to an active construction zone. Holos decorate the premises, posters hang crooked along the windows, and plastic tape whips in the breeze, all of them decrying bold, black messages of DANGER. Seth turns on his heel to find the culprit and, noticing him further down the side of the building, makes a beeline for him, ripping off a snake-like tangle of tape along the way.

"What the fuck?" Seth demands, throwing the fistful of tape at Jiro. "Alright, scram dickhole, and take all your fuckin' Construction Site Barbie shit with you. I already told you, I'm not signing your order!"

#seth and jiro

yes, javi feels hurried. no, it's not because of dodge. it's not because of anything extrenal at all. it's all in his head. it's always in his head. they're here. they're here. they're he-- dodge's voice cuts across all those thoughts, blessedly, and javi glances up with an expression of unrest, one he quickly blinks away into something else. distracted. "no. I'm uh, okay. let's go." he doesn't even remember whether he's supposed to be in the front, or the other. it's ridiculous. "I don't need an escort to go home from the university. I've taken this route hundreds of times before."

Something in Javi's voice suggests that he could use help in some capacity, but Dodge has never claimed to be a psychologist, and he certainly doesn't expect humans to trust him with their emotional burdens. He can only provide a shoulder if they need it or, if they don't, help wherever else he can. "I don't doubt that for a moment," Dodge reassures him, gently proceeding in what will probably be the first of several difficult conversations, "but the current threat conditions are unprecedented, sir. Certain security measures are protocol."

He waits for a moment before, realizing that Javi doesn't know who's supposed to go first either, taking point. "If it's all the same to you, Councilman, we'll take the back way. It's one and a quarter mile longer, but it may provide more cover." He slips the rifle off of his back and holds it at the ready as they start walking.

#dodge and javi

the blast comes out of nowhere. he grabbed his gun before he could even think twice about it. an instinct, though most of the time misguided, came as a saving grace not only for him, but for another as well. one shot was enough, aimed right between the many eyes of the beast. not one crack in his voice, not a tremble in his hand as he places the gun back in its holster strapped to his thigh. he's spent time in the wastes before. he's more used to feeling on edge than anyone else. it's his mind. except now, he can act on his urges. and javi's first words to his friend...?

"you can see that too?"

The mutant springs. Seth flinches.

BANG!

Blood splatters across his face in a fan, and suddenly his ears are ringing as if he'd been hit over the head with a giant tuning fork. Christ, is that what it sounds like to die? But... He's a little slow to come around, but eventually Seth realizes that he isn't dead, the mutant has crumpled into a heap on the pavement, and he's looking up at a man with fever in his dark eyes. "Holy shit, Javi?" Seth breathes, adrenaline drumming hard in his chest and making his vision blurred around the edges. Somehow in the chaos he's landed on his ass, but he doesn't even care to stand up yet. "Goddamn, waited a little long on that one, huh? Hoo. Man, I thought I was a goner. What are you doing out here?"

#seth and javi

"uh, first of all, I'm 5'11 so shut the fuck up." oh, there it is. that bitterness and irritation right in the corners of his lips. that's exactly what nate wanted. "and second, you wish I was in your ass you old freak." there aren't as many tattoos on seth as there have been. he did hear about his arm, so that would probably be why. still... he can have his fun. "you should totally find someone to go up there and pull the stick out of you so you can finally act like a normal human being. or you could die...!" the tattoos on seth's still intact arm begin to shift, just a little bit. just to tickle him a little.

Seth is down to keep this little banter going, but when Nate starts doing that fucking thing he does, minor annoyance ignites into something a little hotter. The skin on his arm starts to itch as the ink just beneath responds to Nate's influence and Seth spares it a sidelong glance, the muscles in his jaw tightening... his tattoos aren't only surface aesthetic, they're an investment into his likeness, and each one is as beloved as the next. And the worst part is, Nate knows it. "Not that this isn't fun," Seth growls sarcastically, "but I've got a sector to run, so why don't you scamper on back to whatever hole you came out of and fuck with someone else, huh?"

#seth and nate

what is it about the knight staying true to his oath that makes sunny's heart beat a little faster in their chest? they will never be able to answer that question. they're not even sure they would want to. the helmet comes off, and sunny watches those unruly grey curls fall across that face. the knight wears that handsome face in a different way than deacon does. an expression of pride, mirth and honor, with a litle sprinkle of admiration aimed specifically at sunny. he smiles at the compliment, even if he feels silly, lounging on the couch like some cat with his limbs dangling off lazily. "what foolish things have you to say, dear knight?" with his hands in his lap, his fingers fidget, trying to control his smile. "you know as well as I, ser, that I have always held a fondness for fools."

Immediately a great many foolish things jump into Ser Deacon's head, but somehow, even in his drink-addled mind, he hesitates. It's too easy: Sunny lounging open with every vulnerable spot exposed, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, asking so sweetly in an old parlance that Ser Deacon speak plainly. The eager animal in Ser Deacon demands that he give in to the temptation without a second thought, but then he recalls that last moment they shared in Sunny's room, remembers the sting of his open hand.

You are not worthy of my favor, ser. Nor are you worthy of me.

A wince flashes briefly across the knight's features before he shakes his head, quickly, as if physically banishing the thought. "I... No, the night is well advanced, our strength spent. Please, allow me to-" He lifts his hand as if to gesture but, when met with the weight of his forgotten helmet, the thing is flung and sent noisily clattering to the foot of the couch: Deacon falls to the ground after it with an unintelligible curse, snatching the helmet back up and... he swallows thickly. When he lifts his head again, Ser Deacon finds himself on the floor right at Sunny's center, his reposed chest and abdomen filling up the knight's vision.

Any other time, such an error would have been corrected quickly and gracefully; this time, navigating dazed through the fog of inebriation, Ser Deacon is slow to recover, and something like a laugh splutters out of him. "God's wounds!" he scoffs. "Pardon me..."

#deacon and sunny

he's not listening. he tried, he really did, but after about five minutes, he got distracted by a need for something sweet. which is why when seth comes out of the shower, marton is too busy making a pb&j sandwich to even look up and admire the sight of his old man standing there in a towel. "uh-huh," whatever. when there's a question aimed at him, however, he finally perks up. "it was..." truly, it was completely average. he's not doing much more or less than he's been doing when he wasn't manager. except now, he can annoy the other employees even more. "...I won't lie boss, it was the same as always. those demolishion holos outside are turning away customers, though." he purses his lips in thought. "...maybe we should throw a party with giant wrecking balls for poles, and those safety helmets for the dancers." it's only half a joke, too.

Marton wasn't listening whatsoever and they can't even hide it, but Seth isn't too annoyed... he'll orate to an empty room if it means the opportunity to flex his own vocal chords. Seth pads up to stand behind Marton and peer over his shoulder, making sure he likes what's on the menu before reaching over and helping himself to a bite. "Motherfucker. The guy is fuckin' delusional. I've grilled Sector 3 to a goddamn crisp and they can't find anything about a demo order." Seth licks a bit of jelly from his thumb and stops at the fridge next, retrieving two bottles of beer by their necks. One he hands to Marton; the other he takes with him to the adjoined living room, sinking down into the couch with a groan. "Y'know what... you may be onto something there, kiddo. Come on down to the Lady for Demo Day, themed cocktails, costume contest, a big ol' countdown clock..."

#seth and marton

lolipopchainscw

The hunt is about taking what should be yours. Subduing the warm flesh that is denied to you. Drawing out the liquid life that sits brackish and still within your own veins. Defying your eternal punishment as hot blood brims in your mouth, slipping down your lip corners faster than you could swallow.

Alvie makes the process hurt.

The heady scent of fear -- a spike of hormones invigorating as peeling a citrus fruit -- excites him. The stronger the man's fear, the deeper the vampire's teeth sank. Alvie knows those pulsing veins by heart -- knows how to drag it out, to get the most of his newfound toy's screams. He exceeds the threshold for a comfortable amount of venom, as it grows into a poison scorching his victim's veins. By the time it reaches their heart, the pain will be unbearable.

Alvie shivers. He drinks until their screams weaken and then, pulls away because a little snack isn't the same thing as a kill. Blood smears across his face, staining his teeth and seeping between his gums. He rests his head against the table, so that he could gaze into the eyes of his victim. "I could hurt him," he said. The vampire brushes the back of his hand against their face, claws grazing their undereye. "I could hurt him good."

His cheek is squished against the wood as he rests there, almost affectionate towards his would-be kill. Alvie glances up at Seth, an involuntary whine for permission escaping him. "For you, Mr. Van Meter," he said. The decorative chain at his collar drapes off the table edge, swinging like an empty noose.

The buzz of fresh blood is ecstasy, but so is taking orders. Seth handles those pesky, moral quandaries that make his head ache. All he had to do was forget the outside world, listen to Mr. Van Meter's voice, and act on instinct.

#seth and alvie #violence tw #AHEM THIS GOT LONG IM SORRY #(don't gargle yet alvie seth wants to kiss you-)

Seth watches, unblinking, as Alvie dives mouth-first into the man's neck. The room comes alive again in a horrific orchestra of screams and wet, meaty squelches, choking the air with the scent of iron and sweat and fear, and Seth finds himself feeling only jealousy.

How easy his work would be if he could simply stretch apart his jaws in this way, rip through and tear apart and leave a trail of bodies to remind everyone still standing who's boss... but it's not that simple, not for Seth. Seth's weapons are his words, their tone and volume, knowing the time and place to say them and to who and how often, that game of insidious patience that hyenas play while the lions use up their strength with one another. He knows the importance of his role in this unique and volatile ecosystem, but still, jealousy is a nice thing to indulge every once in a while... he watches as Alvie's throat flexes with each swallow, blood dripping thick from his chin, and wonders how it tastes.

Screams dwindle to shudders numb with shock and Alvie pulls away, lays docile against the desk, awaiting the next order. Seth is still getting used to seeing him this way, but even the most perfect pair of shoes take a little while to break in; it's only about the willpower to see it through. "Good boy," he creaks from his chest with no small degree of affection, carding his fingers back through Alvie's hair.

Seth claps his hands, then, sharp and sudden, and rubs them quickly together. "Well I'll be damned, I think this nice summery weather has me feeling all generous, Mr. Briggs! So I'm giving you one more chance to make it right. Triple for good faith, and if it takes too long..." He pauses here, wrapping the fingers of his alloy hand around the knife and pulling it back out of the man's hand. "I mean. You think this was bad."

He turns away, lifting up his knife and waving it in a lazy, dismissive gesture. "Leave it, Alvie... you don't know where that's been anyway. Probably should gargle some disinfectant."

starter for @all-cf-me !! ( seth )

"are you ready to move or not?" not even so much as a hello.

#seth and hunter #pissing hunter off speedrun GO

"Yeah yeah, don't get your mandibles in a bunch." Seth turns away from the counter and sticks his latte in the corner of his arm as he slips the little paper card back into his wallet - one more punch and he'll get a free order of donut holes! He pockets the worn leather billfold again and starts off back the way they came, his pace leisurely and exceedingly casual for the devastation wrought around them. "You sure I can't get you something, chief? Matcha? Frapp? Pup cup?"

starter for @all-cf-me !! ( brom )

"you look happy," he remarks, twirling his tail in one hand and sliding a drink over with the other. "what's your secret?"

"A bartender who knows how I take my drinks." Brom wraps a large clawed hand around the bottle's neck and tips it up for a swig, his bushy tail swaying at their easy familiarity. "And you? Happy to get back to work?"

#brom and max

starter for @all-cf-me !! ( deacon )

"hey, deacon." he knocks gently at the cracked door. "it's deacon right now, right? are you busy?"

"Aye!" Deacon calls from where he lays limp on the couch, sunk so deep into the collection of cushions and pillows and blankets that it's difficult to tell where the couch ends and Deacon starts. "The ancestry's taking a nap, I think. Bastards aren't talking much, I think they're getting sick of me. C'mon in, make yourself at home, please. Is everything okay?"

#deacon and joey

starter for @all-cf-me !! ( dodge )

blood staining his face, ed turns with a wagging tail and bright, happy eyes toward his hunting partner. "this one's dead. can i get the next one too? please?"

As capable as he is, Dodge's endurance is laughable compared to Ed's, and as his hunting buddy comes frolicking back with gore on his face Dodge is still catching his breath. Regardless, Ed's eagerness is infectious, and when Dodge straightens back up it's with a smile. "If I don't get there first," he teases, reloading his gun as the sounds of a fight drift to them from a few blocks down. Dodge doesn't give Ed a chance to react, breaking into a sprint to try and give himself a head start. "Keep up!"

#dodge and ed

closed . @all-cf-me

"still on duty, ser?" their workload has doubled, if not tripled over the past few days, barely any time to relax. sunny could swear they saw deacon drinking at the bar an hour ago, and now he is again, in his knightly garbs. not that they're complaining, of course.

"Until my dying day," he answers, and though he speaks slow and tries his best to enunciate, inebriation drags at each word and muddies them together. The host is a fool for agreeing to drinks in the midst of such a crisis: it's hard enough to grip a sword across centuries of lives and deaths without having to constantly adjust stance and account for dizziness. He pulls off his helmet and as a sweaty mop of salt-and-pepper hair falls unceremoniously across his face, the knight smiles. "By my faith, you are a welcome sight indeed, I... God, I am afraid I've naught but foolish things to say."

#deacon and sunny

closed . @all-cf-me

nate stands in his way. and if he steps to the side, so does he. he's not letting him walk past, not when he's aching to annoy him a little (a lot). "anything important in there, asshole?" he points at the documents on his desk, the screens slowly starting to be covered in ink, as the whites of his eyes turn just as black as his irises.

#seth and nate #RRREOW HISS HISS

"Just a little medical research. I've been getting this little pain in my ass, trying to figure out how to get it removed." Seth doesn't engage in the side-stepping dance more than once, only leans in the doorway and looks Nate slowly up and down. He grins, but there's irritation in its sharpness. "So what are you, 5' 10", about 150? The doctors need to know what to expect before they start cutting."

closed . @all-cf-me

"yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" the exasperated grunt is followed by some more grumbling, likely 80% swear words as he hurriedly tucks his holo-books and other documents into his bag. he would have to keep working from home instead of the university. "this curfew is bullshit..." as if he didn't vote for it. "ready?" as if dodge hasn't been waiting on him this whole time.

He has been waiting, but if Javi feels hurried, it definitely isn't because of Dodge... he would wait forever, his patience infinite, maintaining silence and that rigid, soldier-like posture for as long as it takes. He doesn't say as much, but it's evident on his face, his expression calm and subtly creased with concern. "At your leisure, sir," Dodge answers, tipping his head slightly to one side. "Can I help you carry something?"

#dodge and javi

lolipopchainscw

Seth & Leon; Sector 5 || @all-cf-me

"Where's the nudie mags? This is an academic library, you weathered ballsack. Don't you have a, a den of debauchery to rebuild?"