just as it was

the drug, the dark, the light, the flame cameron mccormick. gallery owner.

[dread-frequencies]

She doesn't really expect him to just say that, so Holly sits there for a while, stunned. She's never really sat there and considered herself unwell - but slapped in the face with it, thinking back through the past year - breaking into Hospitals and Pharmacies to steal drugs, seeing shadow-men, lost time, the way people just seem to die around her...

She can't help but nod. But she isn't just unwell - for all her cheery optimism and pluck, she's scared.

But she's Holly. "Isn't that kind of a pot-meets-kettle thing to say?" She gathers that he didn't say it to judge or to condemn - but answering the questions a little more of a frightening prospect. "I don't know. You ever hear of Asher's Bend?"

Being fair, most haven't - perhaps a strong handful of the fans of her family's old television show might know the tiny town in the middle of America's flatlands as the chosen home of the Prices. To Holly it was a flat grid of streets that, for a long time, encompassed the whole world. Now it was a glorified field. The site of an ongoing investigation and subject a thousand conspiracy theories on the scraggliest of internet forums.

She gulps. "It's not there anymore. I was there the night everybody died, except... I didn't die - I just should have? That... sits with you, in weird ways, I guess." She shrugs, and ungracefully shoves the rest of the granola bar into her mouth to let the answer sit.

[huntercam]

The response she gets is a huff of needless air from his nostrils. It could be called a laugh, if there were a smile on his face. If she looked closely enough, she could see the corners of his mouth twitch as if he might, but it doesn't fully realize.

"Yes. It is."

He's not looked into why his mind might function the way it does, or the reason he takes the actions he has. Cameron McCormick has no explanation for the reason why killing has always enticed him, or why the macabre burrows itself underneath his skin and provides a soothing balm to the metaphorical itching he feels on a near constant basis. Nor does he know why it's hard to smile, laugh, feel, care. Unwell is a kinder term for it than most would give him.

His gaze flickers away from the spot in middle distance that he'd been glued to and back to Holly's features. The name of the town sounds familiar, but not specifics. Something last year, mentioned at the Conclave - but it had barely anything to do with him, hunters, or vampires, so he'd tuned out the information.

As she speaks, the familiarity increases, and he starts to understand. Survivor's guilt, trauma - manifesting in sleepwalking, psychosis..? It was mentioned at the Conclave, which lends the problem of her mind to be something more to do with the cause of the events, but -

It is all of it, he decides, and brings a hand to his mouth to rub at the scruff as he thinks. "Unfortunately for you, I'm not the man to seek help with these things. Not any longer, at least." Here he pauses, because he's not sure he wants to elaborate. "I didn't intend for you to.. get attached when I fed from you." He doesn't want to follow that thread, so he shifts slightly, and turns his head away from her to stare into middle distance again as he thinks.

"What helps you determine what is real and what isn't?"

[devilsvenom]

Wide, scared eyes look up, and relief sets in at the familiar face. It only lasts a moment, before she's pressing herself back against the wall again.

"Tell me something only I would know. Prove to me that you're you." Annalise's logic wasn't quite there, but she didn't fully know how the Doppelgangers worked yet; she didn't realise how much her own memory had been affected.

"I was so cold. I was dying. Shiny cold caves and faces that didn't belong. She didn't belong, not me. I belong! It's her brains decorating the cave floor now!" She exclaimed, giggles soon devolving into earth-shattering sobs. "I need to warn my parents, Cam. I need to tell them. They have our faces, walking around like they're us. She wasn't us. She spilt like mercury mixed with blood and brains. And now Barbie is in the tree, or the tree is Barbie."

Water from the melting snow laps at her legs, but she's unfazed, eyes focusing on Cam instead.

"Take me home. I need to tell my parents. They must've noticed, right? Ella said she did, so they must have. I wasn't me. I was trapped. Cold cave with tunnels that went on and on... I think I was there for months and months."

[huntercam]

Prove to her that he's him? That.. confuses him. He starts to open his mouth to speak, but she continues and he allows it without interrupting. The mention of her parents startles him more. Cameron helps her to her feet and answers her first request as he does so: "Our first hunt together, I made a mistake that caused a comedy of errors. We eventually killed the beast, but it was the first time you heard me laugh."

He does not do so often, even on good days. Humor is.. hard. But this moment is proving to be a more difficult one, too.

When she stands, he holds onto her elbow gently with a gloved hand. "Annalise. Your parents.." He can't break the news to her here, not on a random street. "I'll take you to the home. We can talk there."

[devilsvenom]

She had passed out in the freezing winter and awoken under the blazing summer sun. Briar's jacket was around her, cooking her from the inside out, her body fragile and thin, a hunger within her that she didn't think she had ever felt, her throat so dry it was sore.

Annalise stood, and the world spun, her head pounding, as she kept walking.

"She's gone. They're gone. What month is it?" She murmured to herself, her legs struggling to not give out from underneath her with each step she took. Passing by a cafe, her eyes couldn't tear away from the food. She knew it was wrong, but she didn't care.

Lis moved to the closest table, snatched their glass of water from their hands, and drank it down greedily, stealing the food from their plate and shoving it down her throat. The hunter felt like she hadn't eaten for months - had it been months? Ella said she'd noticed.

Ella.

Head snaps back behind her, food forgotten, a twisting tree stood where she last saw her friend, and a necklace weighing heavily on her chest.

"She's in the tree. She's in the tree, we have to get her out!" Annalise looked around frantically, and all she got back were people looking at her like she was crazy. "Are you deaf?! She's in the tree, all twisted and dark. She's trapped. I--..." Her world spun, falling to the ground with a thump, though quick to scramble away from the people who might touch her. She didn't want to be taken again. "No, you're not taking me again! I'm not letting you!" Annalise screamed, moving away until her back hit a wall, and her arms wrapped around herself, rocking to try to self-soothe.

"She's in the tree." She kept murmuring, repeating it, as if it would give any more information. As if saying it enough times would bring Daniella back, or the kind witch who had found and helped her.

[huntercam]

As much as Cameron would have loved to enjoy the return of the sun, all he has to enjoy in the night is the lack of snow and ice. It hasn't all disappeared overnight, but it has melted. The river running through the city runs high and fast, and most people have returned back to normalcy. So when he hears shouting a block over and much more commotion than should be normal, he changes course.

In a blink, he's at the source - and finds himself face to face with a haggard, distraught friend. Tree? His emotions don't normally seep into his features, but confusion is writ plainly on them now.

"Annalise?" He crouches down to her, holding a gloved hand out. "You look unwell."

[dread-frequencies]

"Warmer than out there," she says, rubbing her head - the spiking migraine had relaxed a little, but now there was a low roar in her mind. Still, she's a little less on edge and a little more alert, despite the exhaustion.

Holly unwraps the diet bar and bites into it before deciding maybe not - it's stale. The water helps that problem.

The heating pad, the blanket, they do their jobs, but its just a reminder of how cold she had been. "I uh... really don't know how I ended up at your place." She says - like he might not believe her. "I sleepwalk sometimes or... you know. Things get weird with me?" She smiles and laughs. "I uh... ditched that efficiency I was in when you... you know. I have roomie now, but I guess he was out."

Tom's got his own demons to wrangle, it seems. "I figured- if you didn't mind- here was better -your place I mean. Roomie gets excited... about you people, I mean."

[huntercam]

"Weird." He murmurs, sitting down on the other end of the couch. Cameron moves slow and deliberately as he does, so as to not scare the girl. He hadn't minded before - but that was his doing. This suggests something in her mind might be the culprit. He does not know how to pry, nor does he know the right words to comfort. Her roommate is of no consequence, really - if they were inconvenient before or now, he'd simply dispose of them.

But as he studies her, he wonders what it is that's wrong. He's learned in his time as a hunter and as a vampire, that there are much more things than he understands going on in the world. The conclave had brought a fair amount to the light.

He won't pretend to understand, either.

"You're unwell, then." It's the only observation he can make. "Explain."

[reidhalstead]

New Years. That's about the same time he'd blown back into town. He'd ruined their holiday, in his worry for his family. And if previous incidents, and arguments are any tell, Reid's going to stop celebrating big events throughout the year. Nothing fucking good ever happens on them. Going cold turkey on holidays — he's almost certain Anika would agree, if he wasn't so disappointed about not being able to rewrite the bad ones into something better.

Halstead thinks that if McCormick knew what caused the weather, he'd have said. So he doesn't ask anything more.

"A system?" Of course Cam does. A smirk, "Very you."

They share the same hungers, enough that they aren't battling for whose version is the most accurate. Cam could probably paint a scene of it, and capture some carnal instinct that Reid never could describe in words, or pictures. He'll just know that it is.

Reid swigs his drink, whilst his friend talks. Interest peaks at the mention of clans, as if he'd entirely ruled out the prospect that McCormick would have to navigate that; Reid never did, because his sire is a free agent, of carnage of chaos. Fuck if he's trying not to be that. "Clans? You're involved in those, McCormick?"

Judgement partly withheld, because what the fuck does Reid really know about them? Other than the one he got in the middle of, sucked.

He supposes the surprise of it all is that Cam's very fixed to his points; getting him out for a beer most nights had been dragging him by the arm, until it threatened to pop. He remembers plenty of instances where he'd worked the man down, and Cam had snuck off at the first sign of freedom back to his extracurriculars.

"Alright then I won't ask about the city." a light laugh, as he chalks down snow and monsters to magic, and hates it all the same. "I'll ask about you and yours. Anyone in the picture?" Because Reid's ready to tell Cam all about the woman upturning his undead life, and reshifting his morals, completely. "I never see you interested in much of that." What Reid's come to realise, is that his inner circle of companions (including the dead ones) didn't have the same experiences as him. Cam might have been all fancy with his ropes and whatever the hell he does behind those gallery dooes of his, but he's got a tracked-mind opinion on women, like his. "It's different... like this, right?" Dead. Being with someone who isn't. Has Cam? He doesn't know.

Cam has patience, sure. Reid's done the self-pity near-decade parade, too. But Cameron's not that. He's a man of embracement. Same way that he didn't curse Reid out so violently knowing he'd sired him. "I think being on the road reminded me how difficult it is to be, this, I guess, outside of somewhere you know." It's hard enough pretending in the city he'd known like the back of his hand. "Easier to see threats when you expect them around the corner." He doesn't know anywhere anymore, what with the snow and new creatures. Reid isn't a Saint, or a hero, that'll save it either. Finishing his beer, he asks for another, murmuring to Cam: "The beginning started with a lot of sunlight, blood, and cops. I don't know if you care to hear about that. Threats; every corner we went."

A beat, followed by another bad joke: "You might like to hear about the child sacrificing cult though." The new beer is sat in front of him. "Oh, and there's a cool gallery I visited called Mycellium there too, thought of you."

[huntercam]

"Not.. involved, just a member." He's sure Reid knows his feelings about the guild he was once a part of. "It's out of convenience, because we all know our former leader wants our heads on pikes." He's avoided meeting with her just yet, and he'll continue to do so as long as he can. "Pretorius. If you must know. It's fine."

Nothing special, he means. Nothing born out of attachment, he means. All written in between the words he truly says aloud.

The next question is met with a shake of his head. "No, not right now. I.. indulge." A shrug, a sip of smooth brown, while his eyes study the look on Reid's features. "I've not met anyone worth longer commitments." It could change in the future, it has changed in the past - but nothing since becoming a vampire. "But yes. It's different now." He worries about his strength, his hunger, the possibility of hurting someone who does not desire or need the pain.

The line of questioning makes him think of Anika again. He thinks to probe, and dashes the thought away for the moment. So Reid continues, and Cam's frown shifts and twitches. "Threats, then." He starts, eyebrows lowered as he tries to find what Reid is saying between words, too. Not much he can decipher, just yet. He needs more than just that.

"A cult?" The words spill out in surprise. He cares that Reid thought of him at the gallery, but he cares more about the idea of threats and that annoying feeling at the back of his mind that's still wondering about Reid's inhumanity matched with Anika's humanity. Another sip, then, to pad out the time while he thinks.

He's deliberate when he speaks, "What is it, then, that's difficult for you with your someone? As for your threats, did you not expect the world to be riddled or.. were you just unlucky at every turn?"

[flynnxxcarver]

Relief flooded his veins as Cam told him that the next project would be on his own time. He wouldn't be watched from nearby, like he was now. Not that it was a bad thing that Cam was there. Flynn had chose this. He wanted this. But that it still made him nervous. "I could probably get it done within a week, if you'd rather have it sooner." Often, Flynn threw himself into his art in between working.

Flynn opened his mouth, so close to protesting. Ten minutes? That was... that was insane. He couldn't. He was too much of a perfectionist. What if it didn't come out correct? He let out a breath instead and picked up the charcoal, turning towards the canvas. Flynn interchanged between sticking out his tongue and biting down on his lower lip as his strokes grew not only intentional, but more rapid. At times, he felt as if he could focus on what wasn't there -- guiding the instrument into creating objects in empty spaces. Other times, he found himself starting to detail the sketch even further. He'd pause. Reset. Try again.

At the ten minute mark, he forced himself to set the medium down -- his hand covered in dark soot from the charcoal. "I... ah--" Flynn tilted his head at the canvas. "Definitely need more practice."

[huntercam]

"A week, then." Cameron nodded, adjusting the lesson plans in his mind to give time for a potential finish sooner than a month. His gaze flickered downwards towards Flynn as he watched the reaction to the final lesson of the day. Time limits. While being watched. Not an art lesson, really, but instead a confidence one.

Without protest, though, Flynn continued working - and Cam watched each stroke of the charcoal, each decision that he made with the little time he had left. It seemed to sink in as he went, and he couldn't help but to offer the tiniest twitch of his lips into something of approval.

There was still some ways to go, but this meant he had promise. After the ten minutes, Cameron looked over the sketch and nodded. "Good. And yes, but we'll practice many more things." He does not offer a hand on his shoulder or much more praise than that. Instead he takes the sketch and carefully pulls it from the stand with fingertips. "I'll put this away in a portfolio for later. We'll use it after you've had some time under your belt with me."

After another few moments of silence, he looks back towards Flynn. "You have a week. I'll see you then."

[dread-frequencies]

She focuses on her fingers, as best she can;

one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten.

Not good enough, because her head's hurting and her vision's bleary. But then the man - Cameron, she thinks she remembers, takes her hands lower, counts them too, like he's checking her math. She counts with him, but her eyes keep moving up to him - he is a vampire after all- that's real; she's the small still got the small bruise still where he'd bitten her. That's real. Real.

His voice is a little softer than she remembers it, too. A little warmer. It makes her ease up, even if it doesn't make her smile.

"Uh. Maybe? Yeah. Yes." She blinks again, fidgets a little in his grasp. "I've... I'm headachey though?" She clears her throat, then- repeats the second bit. Then she laughs, and its like out of nowhere all the wonderment's come back to her. "Your hands are so... cold," she issues a nervous laugh, like she's not sure if it'll offend him. "Sorry if that's ... you know, offensive."

[huntercam]

"It's not offensive." He knows his hands are cold. For someone who likes to be intimate with people as often as he does (in the context of his club, not in the context of allowing them to feel things for him), it is a downside in some cases. The gloves help some. And they cover the fading mark on his palm.

He stands, taking his things. She's still in a state of uncomfortable undress, but he tries not to pay too much attention to it. In the car, he asks whether or not she'd like to come back to his place - roomier, more supplies - or go back to hers - comfort, safety.

He's surprised when she directs him towards his home.

The last time he'd had someone over was before his death, and even then, he isn't sure if it was a friendly stay or a quick glance around before heading out. Helping her out of the car and into the house, he leads her to the couch where she can sit. "I'll grab a blanket for you, and a heating pad."

It was mostly used for the aches and pains of an older man before he'd been turned, and now it sat unused in a closet. When he comes back to her, he comes with another bottle of water, an older protein bar from his pantry, and a bottle of Tylenol. "I apologize if the apartment is cold. I turned the heat on for you."

[reidhalstead]

Checks out. Reid had managed to get Anika's phone to send a few messages, here and there, but his own had been impossible. Hardly able to get a signal in the snow even in the city limits, without knocking on doors himself. (And he had)

"It's been like that for a while?" Must have been. And it's no surprise to Reid that Cam thinks it's something supernaturally charged, either. Shit like this always is. Breathing a laugh — because that's better than imagining how crazy the city's become. "Yeah. Like we needed anything else to crawl out of the woodwork. Shit." If anyone asked Reid about magical snow, and odd creatures, he'd say it screamed witch. What else is going to pull something like that off?

He has to turn off the desire to explore that, because it'll be good for nobody if he does.

Reid doesn't know why he doesn't like her name off Cam's tongue. Probably because they were talking beasts, and Halstead and McCormick are exactly that.

Sighing, Reid lets the box in his chest crack a little, but not enough where he has to remember what shit he's burned in Port Leiry. "She didn't want to come back." to clarify, "But she's fine."

How else does he summarise the intensity of the wedge between them? It's healing, but it'll never be the same whilst they're back in the town that wrecked them both.

"I don't even know where to start, man." Shaking his head, he could drop on Cam the insanity about cults, and Reardon, arguments and abandonments. Scarred hands, and new jewellery. A kid that's likely driving Anika to madness at the apartment of her dead father — "So tell me what I've missed here, first." He decides to bring it up, if only because he might have wished he'd had a better guide, in the beginning. "— you found a way to deal with that?" he glances to the bartender's throat Cam that had been glancing at earlier. Reid makes sure to add when he looks back at his friend: "I mean, you look good."

[huntercam]

"Since New Year's." Sip here, as he tries not to think about the graves in his hometown left unattended. "It's never stopped." For a moment, he tries to decipher what's in between the lines of Reid's words. There's nothing he can pull from it - they've been apart for too long, and it's not as if being the man's fledgling gives him any insight to his mind.

He's patient, though. If Reid wants him to know, he'll say it. They can talk as friends, not as monsters.

First, blood. "I'm.. adjusting, yes. Some days are easier than others. I'm not.." There's a hesitation here as he searches his memory for the times that it was hard, the times he fucked up, and the others where he's found a way to cope. Holly was easy. The first few weeks were difficult, but control is something that Cameron prides himself on. There are routines and codes.

"It took some adjusting. I have urges, cravings, hunger, as I assume most of us do. But I have a system now." As for the rest, he takes a drink before continuing. "Port Leiry has been.. a standstill. Nothing new. Reports of strange happenings, but that's all. There's some clan talk around Pretorius, but there's no telling if that will go anywhere. It rarely does."

Reid would know: Cam is a recluse on most days. Meeting new people, getting out and getting involved - not his scene. He stays mostly in the gallery or in the club. It's not interesting to mention his new pupil, nor the strange girl following him around.

"I don't know that I would be the right person to ask about what you've missed. If you ask me, the city is burying itself and all of us in it. Maybe it'll stop. Maybe it won't." There's nothing to do but accept which way it goes. He allows silence to sit between them for a moment as he drinks down his glass and signals for a refill. He's not so crass as to compel the bartender for a glass of his blood - though he would like to remind Reid that it's alright to be who he is. A fledgling teaching a sire seems backwards, but it feels as though they've always had this dynamic: McCormick encouraging Halstead to become a darker version of himself.

"Why don't you start from the beginning? I'm patient, you know this."

[dread-frequencies]

She watches as he moves to the door, watching him like a hawk. When he comes back, she realizes something- there's something strangely incensing about just how calm and collected he is. Envy strikes her as the shivering starts to slow, and Holly's eyes, wide awake and wary now, scan the still shape of him.

She hasn't forgotten. It's been everything she could do to keep it in. Wakefulness spills into her, and she starts to shake off the confusion of being pulled out of a sleepwalk. She takes the water bottle, and is made aware of the stinging heat in her reddened fingertips, which makes her similarly aware of the same in her toes and nose and cheeks and ears.

"No..." She says, looking into his eyes. "I was... I got home, and was working on a thing for a friend and fell asleep I guess, and-"

She cradles her fingers together, breathes into her cupped hands and curled digits. "Something followed me here."

Holly's eyes widen further, and she brings her fingers to her eyes, counts them under her breath, then starts looking over the water bottle before she looks back to Cam. "Am I awake? Are you real?"

[huntercam]

He has no idea what is going on with this woman, but he knows this club is no place for a woman in crisis. Cameron will have to take her home. His lips set into a frown for a brief moment as the realization overtakes him. Something followed her?

She makes no sense.

As she counts her fingers, he wants to.. somehow help, but finds he's at a loss. "I'm real. You're awake." It's the only answer he can give, but he reaches for her fingers, pinching the tips of them lightly. "One. Two.."

He counts out loud, remembering something from the night terrors his brother had had before he passed. Then he curls her fingers gently into fists and covers her hands with his own. "See? Awake." Kindness is not something that comes easy to him, so it feels.. awkward to do this. And more awkward to offer, "Would you like me to help you home?"

[devilsvenom]

"Cam?" She murmured, as he was clearly wrapping up their conversation, watching the other carefully. "Do you still believe in the Hunters' cause?" More and more of her friends - and those she considered family - were being turned into vampires; it was something that she was getting heartbreakingly used to. It made her question every time an order was given to her whether or not the person she was hunting was going to be one of those people.

It would be beneficial to her to have an opinion from someone who had been on both sides of the fence, and also someone whom she knew wouldn't lie to her about it, thinking that they had her best interests at heart.

"And I mean it, I'm here for anything you need." Cam had helped her in some of her darkest times; she wanted to return the favour if he ever needed it - and be there for whatever it was that he needed.

[huntercam]

He stops moving away from her and turns back, eyebrows twitching together for just a moment. Hunters' cause? Maybe it would be better to rip off the bandaid - to tell her some lie and help her to believe, but the idea of it feels like dry ash on his tongue. He looks down to the icy sidewalk beneath them, wishing that a sigh would relieve some of the tension that's building between them.

Instead, he looks back up. "I never believed in the cause, Lis." The Brotherhood was a means to an end. "They gave me a chance to explore.. the darker parts of my art, to provide an outlet that wouldn't land me in prison or rotting six feet under." That's ironic. He does choke out a laugh at that.

"I tried to. For a while." The more he used the monsters as fodder, the more fascinated he became with them. When Reid had been turned, he found he couldn't blindly hate like the others could. There had to be a reason for it, and while he enjoyed the code of protection - many other hunters he ran into only believed in eradication due to their blind hatred. It wasn't enough.

"I stayed in the order to protect myself." He's selfish, and he knows this. "And I do believe that hunters can be protectors. I don't believe that they are now." He gives her a nod of acknowledgement to her offer.

"You know where to find me, as well. Even if it's only for an ear."

[reidhalstead]

"Good. That's less fucked." On the sliding scale of Reid's life, it might not have been the most unhinged of discoveries if McCormick had taken to vulgar habits, given new abilities. But he's still relieved Cam isn't entirely off-kilter. And even more glad that he doesn't have to wrestle with morality tonight about potential bone sculptures; he doesn't have to pretend he's still so righteously driven, when he's got bible-thick bloodshed on his soul.

He's ready for that drink.

A sweating beer in his hand is comfort, and every time it touches his lips, he imagines it's going to cure whatever broken parts are inside of him.

Reid's back in Port Leiry, and so far, everyone he's checked on is safe. It's relieving, but he isn't sure that the woman he dragged back to hell is so glad for it.

"Yeah. I thought that too," he admitted, even though he hadn't given much thought between being driven out of states, and crashing cult parties. "I couldn't get hold of anyone. This snow knocked out the comms, I guess. I just wanted to check on Lis and Rose, you know?" That isn't a secret he minds sharing with Cam, who'd known them long enough. It'd been all the push Reid had needed; an excuse, he supposes. Someone else though it had been, anyway. "You know anything about it, man? I've never seen snowfall like this that's almost put the city in standstill—"

Reid's distracted by Cam's line of sight, and hesitates in pointing it out. Because the man manages to divert his attention away from the obvious, so Reid doesn't make a thing of it. Laughing, it could almost be considered a scoff as Halstead lifts the beer again to drink, "You should know just as well as I do. There's always trouble."

[huntercam]

Cameron opts for something a little stronger in a glass than a beer, and sips it while they sit and chat. Nodding, he rubs a bit at the patches of hair that still sit on his cheeks and chin. "Phones have been.. shaky. I can't reach anyone outside of the city." Inside of the city, it's a toss up whether it wants to work or not. Usually not.

But he doesn't have answers about the snowstorm - only that it's odd, and monsters are popping up that he can't recognize. "It almost has to be something magical. I've heard whispers of people encountering odd creatures here and there, but I've had no experience myself." Which is to say: he cannot help, as much as he'd like to.

His eyes flicker down to his drink, and then back up to Reid - narrowing them slightly as he tries to decipher what meaning he had taken from the question. Deciding to chance it, he makes a soft 'hm' sound.

"..Anika?"

[devilsvenom]

She gave a half-smile at his confession, but it was understandable. When Reid had been in danger, and she saw red, she didn't think through her decision of what she was doing. Reid had to come and save her; her sister now no longer talked to her... Things were a lot different now, but even now, she wasn't sure she'd consider it a mistake.

"Oh, yeah, for sure. The owner's pretty good with me, and the other workers, too. They're good at covering for me when I need to leave for therapy or whatever." Annalise shrugged, looking back at Cam again. "No, he is not." She replied, tight-lipped, but she managed a smile nevertheless. "Thanks, Cam. You too, you know that."

Lis would be a hypocrite if she didn't stick by people like Cam when she had defended Reid so much. Cam was important to her, had always helped her when she'd needed it; she would help him if he ever needed it.

"Safe as can be, and not many people know where I live right now. It's new, and I've chosen to keep that information close to the chest." There were many people that she wasn't sure if she could trust anymore, and The Brotherhood were right up there. "Is there anything you need, Cam? That I can do?"

[huntercam]

He finds himself nodding once - she's safe, she'll contact him if she needs it. That's really all Cameron can ask for. For him, despite the way things shook out between him and Reid (though, he's sure they're on better terms now), he wants the man and his family to know that he's still himself. A monster, yes, but he's always been one.

He won't ask where she lives - she's right to not tell anyone. But he reaches out and rests one hand on her shoulder, just a pat. "Good idea. But no, there's - There's not much. Not right now."

There are things he could ask for. There are things he could tell her about the threats from the Brotherhood, but they're supposed to be on opposites of the war that plagues the underworld. "I'll see you, Lis. And we'll keep in touch."

That's as much promise as he's willing to make.

[dread-frequencies]

As she starts to wake up, she starts to warm up, too. This makes her shiver, shake, and tremble, even as she's lead through some sort of carnal dreamscape into a small private room. The bench isn't comfortable, and her eyes are wide and worry as she surveys the rest of the room. How had she gotten here? All she can think of is how but he's busy asking why.

She watches him inspect her feet and pulls away, ticklish. "Wh-where am I?" Is the first question, but then the timbre and tone of his voice seems to make a few latches tumble into place. "Wait..."

She startles, scooting down the bench from him, jolting to her feet. "You! You're why I'm here,"

Has to be.

"You... you... juju'd me!" She borrows the word from Tom. "From the other night!" Her finger points accusingly, and it adds nothing to the menace of her though, shaking like she is. Then, accusingly, her quivering features stare with accusation; "Didn't you?"

Didn't he?

[huntercam]

"You're in Exquis, the club underneath my art gallery." He explains, calm and deadpan. But then she scrambles away from him, and he drops his head with an exaggerated sigh. He is decidedly not why she's here. Standing up straight, he turns to open the door out of the room they're occupying and calls for an attendant. "Water, please, and a few warm towels if you can manage it. Quickly."

Door shut again, he turns back to the shivering, frail woman trying her best to get away from him. He keeps his distance, and stands with his hands in his pockets.

"I am not, nor did I. I compelled you to take me to your home, and I fed from you. We have not had contact sense." He says it, gently, as if coaxing her to remember - because he did not wipe the events from her mind. Frustrated, he starts to move forward, but there's a knock on the door.

Taking the items from the attendant, he shuts the door again, and actually moves forward this time. He hands her the bottle of water first. "It's below freezing outside, and you're not dressed for warmth, let me help you." The words grumble out of his chest, and he takes one of the towels to wrap around her shoulders - the other for her lap and feet.

"Did you hit your head?"

[reidhalstead]

For: @huntercam

"Are you here for the..."

Reid tips his head away from whatever violence paints the canvas he's looking at, to look at the dark-haired, charcoal-eyed figure in a long overcoat. He hadn't paid much eye to the stragglers in McCormick's gallery, not even the shifty looking ones who stare at him like he's hiding something.

He is, but it's hardly what they're hoping for.

Arms folded, and indifferent to whatever the guy's looking for, Reid's gaze flies beyond the stranger's shoulder to see Cam's shape emerge from a staff door. That assured poise and invisible link that almost had Reid forgetting he's done that to the man. Torn him back from the edge, so he can be here, talking to art collectors and the like.

"No. Here for him." Reid shoots the overcoat a sharp smile, and nods over towards McCormick's approach. He doesn't wait, bypasses the stranger and slowly meets his old friend in his stride. A smile that's less room for conversation in Cam's house of horrors, and instead one that Reid's more adept within. Familiar faces that don't expect him to balance the beast of a lock on the cage in his chest, "McCormick. You're coming for a drink." Too long without. And still, not enough time planned to stay in town, to waste it with explanations upon his return. Not at least, without a beer in his hand. The scarred hand shifts awkwardly in the crook of his elbow. "I don't care if you don't need one. I do."

And company who won't fight him about needless shit, seems good. Or at least if they fought, Reid hopes they're drawing lines at eyes, this time.

Unrelated but equally as fucked, "Also, is that sculpture carved out of bone over there?"

[huntercam]

When he emerges, his gaze immediately falls on the familiar figure at the edge of the room. Maybe it's a draw to his sire, maybe it's just the idea that it's a familiar scent - but he cannot help the surge of emotion that he has to tamp down. Cameron is still not very skilled at naming the things he feels, so as Reid approaches - he tries to find the words for it. Relief? Is he happy to see an old friend? Perhaps. His lips slide into something of a smile - his real one, very small, and tight.

His gaze flicks from Reid to the sculpture. "Clay. Made to look like bone." Because he is not an animal.

They leave the gallery to the nearest place to grab a drink - and Cam does not protest any bit. In Reid's time away, he doesn't think he's changed much, doesn't think much has happened to him, either. Glass in hand, he sips and savors the ashy burn of alcohol - all while he eyes the pulsing vein in the bartender's neck.

Maybe a nightcap if Reid is open to it. He won't ask, because he knows what he was like before. His thumb traces the rim of his glass and he finally asks, "Why are you back? I'd banked on it being a few decades before I saw you again." Another sip, and he drags his eyes away from the call of blood.

"I hope there's no trouble." In paradise, with his family, or on the road.

[flynnxxcarver]

Flynn shifted slightly in his chair, just enough for Cam to move past him and towards the canvas. His lips pressed into a line as the other spoke, trying to grasp onto what he was saying. It, of course, made sense when his mentor was doing it -- the way he guided the charcoal on the page as if it was simple. See what is not there, he'd said. It caused the corner of Flynn's lips to dip downward as he watched.

He didn't understand why he couldn't just draw the damn vase and petals. Sketch them out like normal, detail them until they became something real. Or maybe he did understand. Cameron was trying to teach him a different approach. One that he was clearly failing at.

"Right." He muttered as he stared at the painting on the wall. He let out a breath, running his hand over his face before he turned his attention back to the canvas. "You mean do another sketch." He stated, his mentor clearly thinking he was going to get the one he'd just started done in a timely manner. "Is there a due date, of sorts?"

[huntercam]

Cam finds that he thinks he will enjoy molding this man into someone more self-assured, at least in the way he approaches art. It may take more time than either of them believe, but he is a patient man when it comes to this. So he will take his time, allow Flynn to step into the shoes himself rather than force it.

He offers an odd smile - a genuine one."Another one, yes. On your own time. That way you may start over as you please, and choose which subject you like. We'll shoot for a month's time from now. Once that's completed, we'll move onto other subjects - live paints, sketches."

Sliding away from him and setting down the charcoal, he brushes his hands against one another to rid them of grime. "This is me simply getting a feel for your process and how you learn. If you finish earlier, by all means. This one you'll finish now. Don't think. Just do. You have ten minutes."

[dread-frequencies]

@huntercam exquis

it's freezing. it's frigid cold and she's pretty sure she's dying, but she can't stop, because it's behind her. the whole world's frozen but her feet feel hot.

she stops to turn and look, to see if IT is still there.

it is. it's walking, slow but inexorable.

she remembers a door next, a door and a floor that's slippery. rows and rows of moving images that evoke nothing - sludgy oils locked in simple frames.

she sees two shapes, clung together, descending into some dark hole in the wall. she follows, but not too close. halfway down the endless steps, holly looks back, and IT isn't there anymore.

'The hell are you doing?'

The voice is unfamiliar, and the hand on her shoulder terrifies her;

Holly lashes out, palm thrusting forward.

'Agh, fuck! I fink she brewk my nooz!"

And just like that, the nightmares over, but she's not in her bed, or her apartment, or even her building, and she's so cold. Holly's feet are on fire, she's soaked and shivering, and she's staring at a bloody-nosed doorman, barring her view of a host of people in various states of dress.

[huntercam]

It is not often that Cameron actually indulges in his own club underneath the gallery. It's a simple scene, one where the object he holds is merely a tool for pain. It does excite him to inflict where it is needed, but that is the most he allows himself these days. Those who prefer it will sign up, and if he is available, he will take the slot.

Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and gloves still adorning his hands, he looks over to see the commotion at the front end. Handing the crop off to one of the other professionals, he leaves the area.

At the front, the first thing he notices is that not that the woman is from his feed the other night, but that she is shivering and barefoot in his club. Moving forward, he first checks the doorman for damage. The scent of blood is ripe in the air here, and his lips press into a thin line. "Go, get to the hospital."

Then to Holly. He does touch her, because he can handle the pain if she lashes out again, with a simple graze of his fingertips to her shoulder. "You're freezing. Let's get somewhere private." It's warmer here than it is out there, but it's certainly not somewhere to give proper care and attention. He doesn't know this girl, but he is not so cruel as to let her succumb to sickness under his roof. She's here already, after all.

He doesn't wait for her answer, and leads her to an area that would usually need to be rented out for privacy. Perhaps, he thinks, it might be better to head to his office upstairs - where there is a somewhat comfortable couch and at least something to make tea. Later, then. The only surface in the room is a leather bench, but he sits her on it anyways. Kneeling down in front of her, he checks her feet for wounds or signs of frostbite.

"Why did you come to my gallery?"

[devilsvenom]

"You underestimated him?" Annalise asked, almost shocked. As long as she had known him, Cam had always been meticulous in every plan. Though she supposed if it had been one fuelled by emotions, then the variables shifted, and it wasn't often that those variables moved to the humans' favour.

Still, she was glad to hear that he was doing well. It was becoming commonplace - people she cared about were vampires. Whether they had been them when she met them, or had been turned at some point along the way, it seemed it was almost inevitable.

"One day at a time." She answered truthfully, plastering on a small smile for Cam. "I came back to that house, found a check with my name on it, and moved out. Got a job again, so I'm just... Taking it as it comes." Annalise doubted her siblings would ever truly forgive her for what she had done, but Reid seemed to at least show some understanding as to why she had to do it.

[huntercam]

It wasn't his best showing as a hunter, to be certain. Lis' shock is something to be expected. Cameron had never once been an impulsive man, acting on emotion rather than carefully planned hunts. It was the emotion blinding him to what he had truly walked into. And now that feeling has all but faded for the woman who now lay in a coma in the hospital. He thinks it both interesting and embarrassing, now, and has once again sworn off of connection of that type. Not out of fear of it happening again, but knowing that it is the best way to conduct his vampiric life. He must avoid disaster once more.

"Yes." He answers with a pause, the word slowly slithering out from between his teeth. "Unfortunately, I do make mistakes when I care for people, and that certainly.. was a mistake." He might laugh here, if he were a different person. Instead the sentence lingers.

"One day at a time is what we must all do." Cam nods, his hands finding the pockets of his thicker jacket - appearances must be made, after all. "I see the job seems to be working out." A quick nod of his head towards Earshot, the muscles in his lips twitching to a slight smile. "You know if you need anything, you can just call me. I know your brother is no longer in town, so."

He cannot be a replacement brother, but he - at the very least - can help keep an eye on her until he's able or willing to return. "You've got a safe place to live, yes?" She should know that he means because of monsters after hunters, because of other hunters who might have it out for the Halsteads, or the weather or what lurks within it.