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❝ i hopped off the plane at LAX, with a dream and my cardigan ❞

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬: name: james caradawc nicknames: jamie, jay, nerd, bucktooth ( derogatory; his right fang is crooked ) pronouns: he/him dob: january 9 / capricorn species: vampire occupation: barista at the daily grind graduate student ( archaeology / history major )

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲: positive traits: optimistic, studious, earnest, loyal, dedicated, attentive negative traits: compulsive, insecure, stubborn, blunt, introverted

𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬: typical vampire abilities, learned survivalist skills ( in theory ), expert level specialization in ancient runes, has extensive knowledge of supernatural creatures

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬:

james was the only child of his family and the first to go to college. his parents always believed that he would end up making it big and being successful and for a while he could believe their cookie cutter future. a wife and three kids what could go wrong? only james felt trapped. what if he didn’t want a wife? what if he didn’t want kids? so he did what any college kid in their twenties did; he partied one night and met a walking disaster of a man.

he never knew what it was about his mystery lover, never really knew his name or where he went in the morning only that every night was addictive. but it left him feeler weaker and weaker. there was the fleeting thought of running, of returning to his normal life with his parents. they’d be disappointed sure but on the outskirts of chicago he was sure there was something he could do. he could still amount to something. but then james only remembered how those eyes looked in the half shadows; sad and yet - hungry. it broke his heart seeing someone he loved looking so pained so without knowing what he agreed to, he told his lover to keep going. it was the last night he’d experience as a human.

james never intended to become a vampire. and waking with his arm nearly burnt off because of the morning light? not the best introduction. but he didn’t have his lover there to tell him what the hell was going on or how to fix it or even live with it. for a long time he isolated in his dorm room growing hungrier and hungrier and hungrier until one fateful day his parents decided to visit after a worrisome phone call from his best friend in chem. and well, nature was nature and by the time he came to, james saw that all that was left of his parents was left all over his dorm room and stuck to the shitty ceiling fan. he wanted to scream and feel sick but - all he could do was sit there and cry. partly because he couldn’t remember those moments before it all happened. but mostly james cried and weeped because he was disgusted that all he could think about was the fact he felt so devastatingly hungry. james sobbed himself to sleep because his stomach curdled with grief and loathing. after this incident he swore he’d find out everything he could about what he was and how he could stop it and hopefully with enough effort ‘cure’ what had changed him.

he is relatively easy to approach and friendly, but has very few friends until he decided to move to los santos. james naturally is shy and awkward around strangers and it takes time for him to open up even on a friendly platonic level. it's easier for him when he holds the world at arm’s length especially whenever he remembers what happened to his parents. part of him wants to make friends and remember what it’s like to feel close to someone without being so damn terrified all the time. but who would find history attractive? or want to be friends with someone who could excitedly talk about sumptuary laws? james is quick to deflect romantic overtures out of fear of history repeating but mostly because he’s afraid of hurting anyone that happened to get too close. he couldn’t stomach it if he ended up ruining someone’s life just because he got too caught up in the moment.

james is resolute in his studies to the point it could be considered dangerously obsessive. his “day” job in the underground marketplace doesn’t leave him with much free time but he is always quick to indulge in spending hours at the library at the college and the public library when he can sneak away. spending close to ten years now reading and more recently trying to learn all he can about the supernatural world and if there was a ‘cure’ for being a vampire has left him being a bit like a walking encyclopedia. but there’s something like relief for him being in los santos after he discovered the vast supernatural community and james is especially open when it comes to getting to know others like him.

work and his near endless research keeps him busy for most of his free time and james likes the routine of it even if he can’t stand his job some days and how powerless he feels when it comes to his hunger. james spends most of his free time split either at the art museum looking at the artwork while eating his ‘lunch’, roaming the los santos public library for a new book he hasn’t already read, or visiting the conservatory of flowers. most weekends he ends up staying indoors pouring over his books or at his apartment in greenhaven working on a pet project or two.

#santos.intro

leavetheminshreds:

“I survived,” Douglas said in return, a defensive snap in his tone. With all of the pressure that was on him to fit in, behave and perform, he dropped anything that didn’t serve him physically, mentally, or emotionally. He settled down, chewing on his lip as James’ excitement over the plans to build an observatory disarmed him. “I can tell you’re excited. They’re going to have a hard time getting you to ever leave. I still don’t think it compares to the stars we’ve seen in the forests and mountains but… I guess that’s better than nothing in this dull skied city. At least it’s above the smog,” he commented, a tilt of his head to the side as he restrained himself from sighing too loud over it.

The flurry of information that was thrown his way made his head reel, and Douglas blinked a few times as he processed the novel wrapped up in 110 words and spoken in less than 20 seconds. His jaw was slack, puzzled as he thought about how long James’ letters were. He thought it was because it would sometimes take awhile to send letters back and fourth so he made the most of it - but now Douglas was remembering that this just was how he was. “That sounds like a lot. On second thought, I don’t think I’d enjoy that very much,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll take home schooling over that.”

The shift in mood, from manic to emotional was enough to set Douglas on edge, internally navigating his bewilderment in being touched unexpectedly. He had to remind himself this was his friend, but he still seemed tense, not used to the interaction anymore that seemed to still come easily to James. He didn’t know what to say when he gave more details, trying to listen closely to his words to hear him correctly. He pressed his lips together, understanding at least what it meant to lose someone. He held his tongue, not sure how to comfort him more. If he was a vampire, then it probably was his fault they were dead. Douglas couldn’t argue with that or sugar coat it his feelings about it.

All he could do was squeeze his hand when he cried. “You are a crybaby. I think I cried less when I was a kid,” he teased, a smile trying on his lips, fading quickly into the mention of his letters stopping and he dropped it. “Sorry about that. Training got really serious for awhile. We were going after a lot of hard targets. And then…” a pause and a breath, “Fuair Charles bás.” Charles died. Douglas looked uncomfortable, his bias making him struggle in this moment. “Do you have it under control? The part of you that’s not human.”

“R-Right...right. Sorry.” It’s instinctive to apologize now when he hears that tone especially from wolves. Like he was nothing more than a leech. Like he was some kind of monster. They were right weren’t they? His throat feels tight with emotion but it doesn’t stave the flood of excitement that pours out like an open vein. Years he’s kept to himself wound up tight and silent refusing to get close for fear of harming someone. The thought of harming Doug has his stomach twisting almost violently.

“It’ll be beautiful. The smog means nothing in an observatory. It’s just you and the quiet and the night sky.” Excitement felt like an understatement and James’ face feels hot with quiet embarrassment. He’d forgotten that it’s been years since they played together and months almost a year since they’d written. Maybe Doug didn’t like the person he was, the person he’d always been. His chest feels tight but he’s grateful that there’s not more sharp words flung. Gods he might’ve cried more and where would that leave him?

He liked the idea of going to classes together. “Maybe you’d give it a try, you could sit in on my history class if you want.” It’s a weak admission and James knows that Doug always preferred the quiet and before he was a vampire it was easy to talk slower, calmer, not as if the words were built up and needed to escape. Looking over the other’s face he’s quiet and he wants to ask just what happened, what was his friend not telling him?

Fuair Charles bás.

James is quiet, eye burning with fresh tears he knows Douglas won’t let slip out. “Oh,” he breathes out, blinking through tears. It’s that and the words that follow that have him hiccuping on a breath and he knows it would be easier to let go and back away. But James has never been one for easy. “Oh I get it now.” Hot tears drip off his chin and he’s sniffling back a sob. He still hasn’t gotten used to this, to feeling things so strongly and sharply.

He never expected to have a reason again.

“It was...it was vampires wasn’t it? You...You really think I’m like them? You think I had a choice with my parents? You think I’m just s-some...”

#re . doug

#pic . until death does the sun shine brighter

leavetheminshreds:

Douglas half smiled when James predictably stumbled over himself; he might have wondered how he’d survived this long, except, he really hadn’t. The distinct smell of dead flesh and the silence of his heart proved that. He blinked a few times while he listened to him talk a mile a minute in Gaelic. “Woah, slow down a little. My spoken Gaelic is isn’t as fast as my writing,” he admitted, although he’d started to pick back up where he left off, spending a few minutes every day relearning words he’d forgotten, and reading a book in gaelic before bed at night. “You’re studying the stars… in the middle of the city? You know you can barely see them here, right?” Douglas gave him an incredulous look, half smiling through the corner of his lips.

“What is college like?” he asked, genuinely curious since he’d only experienced home schooling his whole life. The hug took him off guard, a slight flinch in him as he inhaled sharply with a slight scrunch of his nose, surprised by everything that was happening right now. He had been in the headspace to be alone, and just do one task after another to stay busy and simply have a feeling of completing something. He returned the hug, wrapping his arms around him. “No, I know how much that sucks,” he said in reply, swallowing hard, his heart rate spiking for a split second, “I get it.”

Doug’s arms dropped to his sides when James puled away, listening to him apologize for the smell and explain what happened. The younger boy frowned, not sure how to respond. “I’m sorry – sorry that happened,” he finally said, struggling a little internally at the question marks in his head that stifled his words. “An bhfuil tú ceart go leor? …Leis? D’fhéadfainn an vaimpír sin a lorg agus é a mharú ar do shon.” Are you okay? …With it? I could track down that vampire and kill him for you. He sighed, disagreeing with his stance on the city. “I would rather be anywhere but here, personally. But we can’t leave yet. So I guess I’m just glad to see you - my experience here so far… Well.” He was breathless, not in the mood to give more details. “I’m happy you’re okay.” Even if it was just mostly okay. He was still a vampire.

There’s a toothy grin given. “Ah chuaigh tú dúchais.” Ah you went native. And it made sense, outside of the North and - from what he’d seen and remembered - Doug’s own home, not many people went around talking in Gaelic. Of course he’d let his excitement get the better of him and he’d talked quicker than he could draw breath to speak. James knows he doesn’t really need to breathe but it’s habit. All of it is because it still feels like part of him is getting used to being this way. “Sure you say that now but did you know there’s plans for the University to build an observatory in the mountains nearby? Can you imagine how cool it’ll be? I guess it’s for tourism and all that but dude it’s stars!”

Ever since he was little he loved the stars with inhuman ferocity. His mother used to joke that he must’ve been descended from them and not normal flesh and blood people. So of course he still remembers some of his earliest memories telling Doug very seriously that he was almost one hundred percent sure the moon was his real mother.

It was - it was nice remembering things like that.

“Frustrating! But you would love it.” James answers without thinking, finding it easy to talk for once because it’s not like classes where he has to chew his pen cap and fidget uncomfortably in his seat just to keep from going on a tangent about why Kathy Jacks was wrong about star alignments and really he just wanted to hear more about Terzan 2 not prep for mid-terms. But he’s smiling again because he can’t help it and - “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve learned. They let me double major into history too because I always loved the books your dad would bring out and read and of course that lead me to go into studying runes and old languages and how they evolved with history. Oh! And I can draw a lot better now too though honestly my art teacher is hateful and smells like eggs. I’m pretty sure that she’s planning on failing me because she thinks I stole her still life fruit but honestly who wants colorful plastic though it was pretty funny when someone put googley eyes on them.”

Most of the words are muffled into his shoulder, half in relief and half because he can’t stop himself from talking before they’re untangled. It feels like a bubble of manic energy has exploded in his chest and - and -

Doug is apologizing and it suddenly feels too real again and James finds himself reaching out without thinking before he can answer. Just to hold his hand only a moment just like back when they were kids and he’d get too nervous, too wound up with words. Just to find some reason to keep from choking up crying in the most disgusting way ever in his opinion (all snot and hiccuping breath really James knew for a fact he was an ugly crier as a kid). The words catch in his throat and his lower lip shakes before he sucks it in with a half hearted shrug.

“Mharaigh siad cheana féin é. Tá wolves ar ais sa bhaile sách dian faoi na dlíthe. Ach ní athraíonn sé cad a tharla. Tá mo...mo thuismitheoirí fós marbh agus is ormsa atá an locht.” They already killed him. Wolves back home are pretty strict about the laws. But it doesn't change what happened. My...my parents are still dead and it's my fault. James feels the first few hot stinging tears rolling down in fat drops and he’s laughing, quick to rub his face and shake his head. “Ah shit, look at me I’m some badass creature of the night and I’m still such a crybaby.”

Wet fingers cover his face a moment and he takes a shaking breath. It was hard some days but even still he could find a reason to smile. wiping the last few tears away he’s sniffling through a few more chuckles and shakes his head, “I...uh I’m not okay. But I’m still learning how to be and how to find a new normal even if everything is different.” There’s a small wavering smile given. “But same yknow? You’ve got no idea what a relief it is knowing you’re here and okay. I was worried about you for like, forever when your letters stopped coming. I...I was pretty sure I was just gonna be alone here pretending like I’m still yknow, human.”

#re . doug

ofkalea:

It was easier to get through classes when you had a friend in them. Kalea had figured this fact out her second year in, so she’d made it her mission to try and make a friend in whatever class she took. James had become a special case, though, ending up a friend she enjoyed hanging out with regardless of the need to study for an upcoming exam. But she digressed, it was easier to study when you had someone who was either just as confused as you, or someone who had far better notes on whatever subject you found yourself stuck on.

A perfect example, the art nerd all to happy to try and help James with his project for their art course. She tore a piece of her muffin off and popped it into her mouth, chewing as she chuckled softly at his scowl. “Art is supposed to be in the eye of the beholder. Which I’ve always taken to mean there is no bad art, if that’s what you mean.” She replied with a shrug, lifting her mug to her lips to take a long and labored sip. Caffeine practically ran through her veins at this point.

At the offer she half spins the sketchpad towards her, looking it over. “I hate to be the one to tell you this…” Dramatic pause. “But you’re being way too hard on yourself, this is great. Listen here’s my advice; if you’re not happy with this one, start another one. You can always come back and fix this one if you don’t like the second piece, but I’d hate to see you potentially over fix something and you don’t like it even more afterwards. Sometimes you just need to take a break and come back to it later.”

“Eye of the beholder? That sounds like something out of the fortune cookies at the Golden Bamboo.” A scoff and James is cradling his pig’s blood latte with charcoal covered hands. Wrinkling his nose a bit at the picture, he shakes his head. “It’s not that I hate it I think there’s something missing. Like, when the wolves back home would fight it was like they were talking or like connecting.” He’s sure he sounds crazy but Los Santos seemed to run on it as far as he was concerned.

But he is relieved that Kalea likes it. The semester was rough enough on his frazzled perfectionist nerves and there was a part of him that very violently wanted to rip the sketchbook in half and crawl into bed until winter term. “Yeah that’s great and all but you know Mrs. Schulder expects this on Friday right? I haven’t even finished one that I think she’d grade well much less five like she wanted.”

Another sip before he sets his coffee aside in favor of cramming the rest of his bagel into his mouth unceremoniously charcoal be damned. Food was a relief in the wake of stress. Brushing off his hands against his thighs, he’s taking his sketchbook back and with a heavy sigh he flips through the pages one by one of hyper realistic nature shots and wolves. “She already told me that I needed to draw something new but I don’t know what.”

Huffing and starting a new sketch as he talks, he gestures idly. “I’m telling you she’s a spiteful old hag that has it out for me. It’s just cause I said I didn’t understand the point of drawing bananas three days in a row I know it. And honestly who wants to draw bananas over and over can you really blame me for putting faces on them? She even blamed me for the googley eyes incident and I wasn’t even there!”

#re . kalea #// james grumbles in frustrated art homework

leavetheminshreds:

Conflict he could deal with. Fights he thrived in. Hunts he excelled. But when he wasn’t doing those things? Well, Douglas struggled. Reading only got him so far. Studying felt pointless without Charles’ vision. Day to day life felt mundane, and it left his analytical side to do nothing but wonder. The longer he was left alone with his thoughts, the more he felt that their victory had not been a victory at all, that his sacrifice had been a ploy disguised to push someone else’s agenda. It made him growl to think about, bristled and bothered, sometimes audible about it under his breath without meaning to be in the living room, or daydreaming in the library. He didn’t care to be around others, nestling in close to Arthur, staying nearby out of fear, paranoia - and most importantly, comfort. Everyone else just seemed to prick his nerves, and he was in no mood to humor new conversations or make friends. He just wanted to leave Los Santos, so what was the point? All Douglas wanted was to get out of there with Arthur and never look back.

It was another mundane day, and Douglas was busy doing mundane tasks at the library, going down a list of things Arthur had asked him to do. That was fine. It at least kept him busy, and if it made Arthur’s life easier, good. It was boring, but it was better than nothing.

A smell caught his attention though, during the day, no less. His nose scrunched up, flinching at the smell of death that had entered his territory. His muscles tensed, and he immediately stopped what he was doing to investigate, giving the culprit a death stare as he quickly found the living corpse. But the moment he laid eyes on his features, he paused, the territorial nature on his face melting into confusion, then recognition.

“James?” He muttered, his eyebrows stitching together. A little, childish part of him got excited, and he half smiled, but the odor stunted his excitement, and he seemed hesitant. “Cén fáth a bhfuil boladh ort mar a rolladh tú thart i gcarn de chorpáin?” Why do you smell like you rolled around in a pile of corpses? Maybe it was a trick. Maybe something else had happened. There could be another explanation or… “Cén fáth a bhfuil boladh cosúil le Leech ort?” Why do you smell like a leech? He didn’t want to outright say vampire - in case someone pieced together his words and caused an alarm.

Well to be fair being called a leech wasn’t the worst thing he’d gotten. Granted he didn’t have a high opinion of himself on a good day before everything went to hell in a hand basket. James half-stumbles over his scarf and he’s quick to finish hanging it up alongside his jacket and other belongings on one of the free hooks. “Ah, shit, hang on-” Untangling himself a bit he’s eager to rush up to the other boy. It was strange how well he could tell now that Doug was like the wolves he’d known back home. It was all the smell honestly and he didn’t mind the air of wet dog. In fact it was almost comforting as his smile grew brighter.

There was so much he’d wanted to tell him before he’d moved away from the North. His parent’s death, being changed, learning how to get by, and best of all learning that the baristas here in Los Santos had caffeinated blood so he didn’t have to give up his lattes. “Tá an oiread sin a tharla, fabht éadrom. Bhuail mé le buachaill agus ní raibh sé go hiontach. Bhog mé anseo áfach! Agus téim ar scoil! Ó agus déanaim staidéar ar na réaltaí mar a dúirt mé i gcónaí.” There is so much that happened, firefly. I met a boy and he wasn't great. I moved here though! And I go to school! Oh and I study the stars like I always said. James’ face hurts from how wide he smiles and it’s been years and yet he still feels that same child-like glee seeing the other. The words are spilling out fast with his excitement and he feels like he might shake apart with it.

Sweeping him into a tight hug, there’s a relieved sigh. “It really sucked living here alone you have no idea.” Mindful of how tightly he grabs, he’s quick to pull back just a fraction and look over the other’s face, “I probably smell really awful too don’t I? Gosh I’m sorry, I tried to wear cologne and stuff but I think it makes it worse.” His expression falters and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “I uh...that boy I met? It was the week before I was supposed to go to London on scholarship and well one thing lead to another well, I didn’t know he was a vampire.” James feels that familiar twist of self loathing threatening to surface as a nauseated churn in his stomach. Swallowing hard his gaze falls away and he’s prepared for Doug to ridicule him or freak out. His parents had right before instinct took over.

“I trusted him and well, here we are,” he adds quieter, rubbing his arm a bit. “But uh hey, at least the city here isn’t half bad, it’s like the LA of the supernatural community. Everyone and everything is here yknow?”

#re . doug

-for @ofkalea

So sure he wasn’t easy to befriend, James would be the first to admit that but also college was hell and there was a certain ease befriending the people that were stuck in the trenches together. He doesn’t really remember the specifics but he knew one day Kalea was taking up the space next to him in his Japanese history class and they’d wound up making sure they were in classes together for the past two semesters. It’s maybe why he’s neck deep in an art class he only really needs for electives but takes seriously cause no he isn’t competitive at all.

But still they’re at Love You a Latte and he’s on his third caffeinated O negative and his hands are smudged a little from charcoal. Of course that doesn’t deter James from taking a bite out of his bagel and scowling down at his homework. “So this art thing, is it supposed to get easier or something cause I don’t believe it.” Taking through his mouthful, he huffs and sits back with a shakes of his head.

Another bite and he nods at his sketchpad, a silent offer for her to take a look at the sketch of wolves playing in the snow. It’s decent of course but James is nothing but a perfectionist and he can’t help but notice the little things. “Man this would be easier if I was back home.”

#re . kalea #// james just eating his feelings don't look at him

-for @leavetheminshreds (doug)

Going to the college library is easy as breathing. It’s a comfort being able to walk inside and find a quiet corner to pull up his legs and bury himself in a book. No one really talks to him or bothers him and for the longest time he tells himself that he ought to check out the newly reopened public library. Moving from The North had been extremely isolating in regards to feeling brave enough to leave his apartment beyond going to classes. Learning how to move around Los Santos during the day was not the greatest affairs but hell - he’d brought his UV umbrella for a reason.

It just sucked bundling up like he was going out into a blizzard but it beat struggling through the sewers. James always waited until dawn or dusk to go anyways to limit the risk but he told himself that today was going to be the day he got a card from the public library. It’s a struggle to untangle himself and stash his umbrella at the front doors but by the time he manages he lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of rows and rows and rows of books just waiting -

And a head of messy brown hair.

Well if that wasn’t a blast to the past. Maybe he should’ve come sooner if he’d known that he would see such a familiar face. James’ face splits into a smile that comes easier than he expected. Especially after everything the past few years.