#verse: fledgling

[bloodlustiing]

Verse: Fledgling

This verse is set in Ares' past, when he's just recently been turned into a vampire. He is extremely different in this verse, due mainly to a lack of confidence and power, as well as being under the thumb of an unforgiving and cruel vampire lord who goes by the name "Affogato."

Ares, desperate to restore his family name and wealth after the untimely death of his parents and departure of his younger brother Apollo, sought aid anywhere he could. Affogato, a manipulative man well aware of the wealth and influence tied to the Castellanos name, seeks him out and offers to help him reclaim what was lost in exchange for servitude. Seeing little choice, Ares accepts and is turned into a vampire against his will.

Weak and with no real means to grow stronger, Ares struggles with his lost humanity and the side effects of vampirism while trying to keep up with Affogato's increasing demands. He does his best to keep his head up, though. After all; what he's been promised is more than worth the torment of undeath and the abuse he suffers at his lord's hand.

Isn't it?

[becausearrows]

There's a pathetic, very unhappy, whining by the foot of the bed. Normally, the puppy didn't need help to get up, but he isn't feeling well and he had already tried to jump up, which had failed and he had felt back to the floor with a thud. Now he begged Clint for attention, sitting in a very puppy-like manner on the floor, swaying a little and just looking genuinely sad and unwell. (have some sick puppy!Francis xD )

Clint was going to ignore it really. If Francis wanted him he could turn back into a person and ask him. He was pretending to sleep. But Lucky, the very helpful mutt, hopped off the bed and lifted the puppy up before jumping back up himself and licking Clint’s face until the blond gave in. 

“Really?” He looked at the pup with a raised eyebrow. “You’re working with Lucky to keep me awake now?” Hold on. Something was wrong. Not just the pathetic whining and the swaying and the general not-rightness of the little pup. But the smell. He didn’t smell... right. “You ok?” 

He reached out, scooping the puppy up and holding him close. A flashing light in Clint’s brain declared, ‘sick’. “It’s easier to get you medicine as a kid than a pup, you know that, right, Scruffy Bird?”

[becausearrows]

[✉ → Big Birb] So, I might be in a bit of trouble. A security guard thinks I picked the lock to a storage place. [✉ → Big Birb] Could you come and explain things? [✉ → Big Birb] ~Link to address on Google Map~

[✉ → Eyas] On my way

[✉ → Eyas] Tell him you’re blind

Clint half debated using the cycle but it seemed too... flashy... for this. Ended up in a cab instead, intentionally leaving his hearing aids in his pocket. Deaf father and his blind son. How could anyone possibly think Francis did something like pick a lock. 

And without him no less.

[✉ → Eyas] Why’d you pick the lock anyway?

[becausearrows]

Noticing his dad passed out on the couch, Francis silently grabs his bow and arrows, ready to sneak out into the... night... it was night, right? Opps, he might have forgotten what time it was again. Damn. Well, there would always be something to do. Something to shoot at. Someone to help. Or mischief to make. Except Clint might not have been fully as asleep as he seemed... (Clint, deal with your son ~ heroprogeny )

@heroprogeny

It wasn't really his business right? If his blind, teenage son wanted to sneak off who was he to stop him? The little voice in the back of his head remarked, 'your son Clinton'. That voice sounded more and more like Cap. He'd need to do something about that.

Clint didn't even move as he spoke, half his face still buried in a couch cushion. "Where you off to at this hour Kiddo? Not even gonna say goodbye to your poor old man?"

[becausearrows]

@heroprogeny answered from HERE:

Francis heard Clint sitting down, he thought he could discern a hint of a shadow moving too, but he wasn’t sure. It could just be his imagination. Thankfully, Clint had sight for both of them, just like he had hearing for both of them.

“No, not yet. I hate this waiting,” the teen muttered, wanting to just run off on his own so that he got something to do other than listening to the silence around them. Patience had never been his strong suit and he now knew where it had come from. “Can you see anything?”

“No. Nothing interesting.” Patience was not a strong suit. It was only years and years of self discipline that let Clint sit at all for long periods of time. It wasn’t in his nature to sit and wait. It was, unfortunately, part of the job. 

He sighed and leaned forward, as though he could make his impatience radiate and make the criminals in question suddenly decide to act. “There’s one man out front but he looks like paid muscle more than someone who actually cares what he’s doing. Everyone else is inside.” Now that, was an idea. “What do you think Cap would say if we snuck in? Just a couple of party crashers.”

[sansxseraph]

"B-brother?"

Gabriel didn't like this place. Not at all. Too cold, too wet, and hated hated hated being all alone.

He sniffled, valiantly trying not to cry as the rain plastered hair and cloth to pale skin.

"Sister? Father?"