immortal and dead

rp blog

[uundeadgreg]

me, writing scifi:

[uundeadgreg]

RULES: repost, don’t reblog. just pick a muse of yours and fill it out.

MUSE: greg (gregory taylor walker, gregjamin)

— basics

▸ is your muse tall/short/average? average--5′10

▸ are they okay with their height? yeah, he’s never really had a problem with it. he’s an average guy so an average height sounds about right. 

▸ what’s their hair like? dark and curly and never not a mess.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/with their grooming? hah. this boy doesn’t own a brush. 

▸ does your muse care about their appearance? not really. he’s been wearing the same ratty jacket for literally decades. 

▸ does your muse care about what others think about them? most of the time, no. or at least, he tries not to. but the opinions of people he cares about matter very much to him. 

— preferences

▸ indoors or outdoors? outdoors, babe ▸ rain or sunshine? rain ▸ forest or beach? he likes both, but he loves the beach ▸ precious metals or gems? neither? whatever? he doesn’t really go in for that kind of thing. ▸ flowers or perfumes? flowers! ▸ personality or appearance? personality. the body just a machine to carry around the soul. ▸ being alone or being in a crowd? he doesn’t like crowds, but he doesn’t do well alone.  ▸ order or anarchy? he’s a hippie.  ▸ painful truths or white lies? depends on the context. usually truth. ▸ science or magic? ‘science is magic, babe.’ ▸ peace or conflict?  peace  ▸ night or day? night ▸ dusk or dawn? n/a ▸ warmth or cold? warm--he hates being cold  ▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends? a few close friends. he craves deep connections. ▸ reading or playing a game?  reading. he loves sci-fi.

— questionnaire

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits? he smokes and self-harms when he gets anxious, he beats himself up over things that were never his fault, he doesn’t brush his hair.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them? yeah. a lot of people, really. he’s lost touch with or lost p much everyone he knew when he was alive. he thinks about them a lot, and misses most of them. 

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has? seeing alice perform, usually right next to sylvia. cooking pancakes for the breakfast program. working at rosie’s. going to the ocean. 

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill? no; he cried the first time, and he does everything he can to avoid it now. 

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down? like a thunderstorm. hot meets cold and clouds appear out of nowhere. there’s lightning and rain and it’s loud and terrifying. and then it’s over. 

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? maybe. depends on who it is and how long they’ve known each other. 

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love? very trusting, very affectionate, constantly thinking about the other person. constantly looking for ways to make them happy. sometimes (often, depending on how they respond) concerned about not doing enough. 

TAGGED BY: stole from @orphees

[bountyman]

rp partner: so idk how u feel about really dark threads and violence and gore and stuff but–

me, putting my finger against their lips: i’m in

[made-defective]

undeadgreg-rp reblogged your post and added: “undeadgreg-rp reblogged your post “undeadgreg-rp: Greg follows Cress’s…”

Cress is still on, it seems like. Still charming…

@undeadgreg-rp

Shelly raises her eyebrows and opens her mouth to speak, but Alicia speaks first, quietly and calmly saying “Do you need someone to beat him up for you? Because we will. I will break his legs with a rice paddle.”  She sips from her bottle again, the herbal smell is a little stronger than before.

Shelly tilts her head a little when Alicia is done talking and adds “Well, I probably wouldn’t break his legs, just scare the shit out of him,” she grins “ Maybe literally. I’ve picked up some good tricks in the three hundred years I’ve been alive. Well, half alive.”

Alicia makes a disgusted face, and Shelly laughs, continuing “And if you’re worried about paying us or something, don’t. You’re among friends, new ones you probably don’t trust yet, which is totally fine, but friends none-the-less. I’m sure Kimmy gave you the whole speech about all of us being like family. Buuut not everyone wants the whole family dynamic, y’know? I know I don’t. Oh! I’ve been running my mouth this whole time, is there anything you want to know about us?”

Cress re-appears, carrying another plush chair, this one a light rose colour. Also probably stolen from Kimmy’s office. He sets it down just across from his own chair. He’s put his hair in a ponytail, exposing his eyepatch and has changed clothes too, wearing a long, plain black shirt and tights, his clawed feet are bare. Settling down in the chair again he smiles at Greg “So, Shelly talk your ear off yet?”

[uundeadgreg]

Going after James. Scaring him. Hurting him.

Greg shakes his head. He doesn’t want that. It’s been half a century, and when he left, James probably didn’t expect him to last through the week. It’s best if he continues to think that. Greg doesn’t want to upset him again. He doesn’t want James coming after him for spite or vengeance or just to satisfy his curiosity or boredom. 

He imagines James standing in his doorway, green eyes glowing in the lamplight above a contemptuous sneer. 

He feels his chest starting to cave in. 

Don’t think about him.

Then Cress comes back and it seems like everyone’s asked him something and he doesn’t know who to answer first. He doesn’t know where to look or what to do, but he can’t freak out like this. Not right now. He pushes an awkward smile onto his face and focuses on Cress. That’s right, right? Focuses on the guy who invited him back. 

“We were just talking,” Greg says. “About me, I guess.”

One of his least favorite topics of conversation. Greg looks impressive, viewed from the right angle: electrician, plumber, mechanic, carpenter, chef, volunteer... But a half inch to the left, he’s jumpy, skittish, anxious, depressed, half-suicidal, and a general waste of space. A drain on the people and resources unlucky enough to get within his reach. 

[uundeadgreg]

orphees

“Aside from working the pole? None whatsoever,” he quips. Not quite a lie if he isn’t technically employed. He’ll take the odd job to make ends meet– isn’t like he has any money to his name. That was all claimed by his surviving family, and very not-slick estranged wife going by her own nom de plume. Honestly, ‘Danielle Guillard’? He knows she doesn’t suspect him to be alive, but she could go by anything other than her middle name, and her ancestral name… Much smarter than that…

Right, he’s talking to someone. He focuses back on Greg.

“I’m not much of a drinker these days, but I can make an exception for a friend.”

Gérard is extremely liberal with the word ‘friend’. He’s not really interested in forming close bonds, but talking to people outside of Overwatch helps him forget sometimes. A brief lapse into normality. An indulgence. Then it’s back to work.

“Hey,” Greg says. “Don’t say it like that. Hell, I’d watch you dance.” 

He has no idea how Gaston would move--the guy’s been sitting on a bench since they met--but Greg can’t help but think he’d look good in a skimpy outfit, regardless. 

He’s never been a dancer, but that’s only because he didn’t have the talent. Or maybe the discipline. The drive. Instead he’d just set up shop in a shitty motel, making what little he could from a seemingly endless parade of assholes. 

Well. Not endless. Although the last asshole he’d dealt with had been the worst, by far. 

Don’t think about him. 

A glance back at Gaston, though, and he notices the ring. “Oh, shit, are you married?” 

[made-defective]

undeadgreg-rp reblogged your post “undeadgreg-rp: Greg follows Cress’s directions to the dressing…”

@undeadgreg-rp

Lounging in a plush chair now, he’d absolutely stolen it from Kimmy’s office, Cress smiles at the compliment, replying with a short laugh “I did say I’d be extra alluring just for you. So what do you say, did I pull off alluring well?” 

Shelly, a tan and tall, busty brunette with striking blue eyes and dyed blond feathered hair lightly pushes Cress’s shoulder “Stop digging for compliments and get him a chair.”  

Cress fakes a pout “You just want him to yourself because he’s cute,” he says, knowing full well that they just wanted time to talk to Greg on their own, but he does get up and disappears behind a thick blue curtain. Shelly smiles at Greg once Cress is gone, and Alicia, who’s been quiet this whole time comes forward, she’s a good foot and some inches smaller than Shelly, with long lavender hair, electric green eyes, and freckles. She gives Greg a small smile and a wave. “So, I’m Shelly, “ the brunette says “The quiet girl here is Alicia. I’m a vampire, she’s a werewolf…but don’t worry, that ‘natural enemies’ thing between vamps and wolves is bullshit.” 

Alicia quietly laughs and sips from a smooth, opaque green bottle in her hand.It gives off a very herbal smell. Shelly continues “So, tell us about yourself, Cress doesn’t talk much believe it or not. Kept you a mystery to us, besides the fact that you’re a vampire.”

[uundeadgreg]

Cress is still on, it seems like. Still charming and flirty. Maybe he never turns that shit off. Maybe he’s just permanently enchanting. 

Greg wouldn’t know about that. He’s never managed to be charming for more than a few hours at once. Soon enough he’s back to being awkward or morose or panicked or terrified. Back to his pathetic, unimpressive self. 

Cress disappears, though, and Shelly and Alicia step forward, giving him something else to focus on. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he says, looking between them. 

But Shelly had asked about him--shifted the focus back to him. What is there to say, really?

“Uh, I’m pretty boring.” But that’s not a good answer. There’s something he can say about himself, surely. He thinks for a few seconds and goes on, “I’ve been dead since ‘69; I like sci-fi and cooking; I try to do volunteer work when I can.”

He shrugs and says, “I’m pretty handy. I read a lot. I, uh... I’ve never been in a place like this before, though. Honestly I’ve only ever known one other vamp, and he was an asshole. ...But it’s cool,” he says. “We don’t talk.”

[uundeadgreg]

shadowsinmyveins

  Aoto nods in understanding, they suppose that now is good compared to before. Good-ish at least, and who knew how it would be in the coming years? They can’t help a small smile, he seems happy talking about it. Still curious, Aoto wants to ask so many questions. But they don’t want to be annoying or overwhelm him, how to make it ….not annoying? Maybe a trade-off of information? That might work.

Looking back up at the vampire Aoto questions “Do-d-d-do, uh, y-you ha-h-h-have a-any more q-q-q-qu-questions f-for me? I….I m-m-mean…s-since I a-a-asked you s-so-s-something.”

“Uh, yeah, actually.” Looking up at them again, “You said you change... What do you change into?”

Something aquatic, probably. Right? Maybe a fish? A shark? Smiling, Fuck, that would be cool. He can only imagine being able to move through water like a bird through air. Being able to feel heartbeats from a mile away. Being able to explore the ocean in a way a human being never could. 

But it could be something else entirely. It could be really goddamn obvious, too. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m not too caught up on my, uh...mythology, I guess.”

Not that human accounts of monsters are always accurate, anyway. It’s not like he sleeps in a fucking coffin. And he can cross running water, no problem. 

[uundeadgreg]

//got m to start writing w me

//this is where we’re at.

[uundeadgreg]

graciieuse

“That’s all you have?” asks Widow, looking up from her own book. He was gone for a while– seemingly not from packing, though. The other place must be far. Won’t be hard to get him more possessions. Then again, he doesn’t seem the type to like owning a lot.

“The other closet is empty, take it,” she says, returning to her book. She tucks her feet underneath her in case Greg wants to join her on the couch.

As she turns the page, it really hits her that she asked another person to live with her. Of course, she can kick him out whenever she wants. It’s an adjustment for her. Greg is sweet. So far she doesn’t regret her decision.

He smiles at her surprise. Yeah, that’s it. It’s all he can fit on his lap for a bus trip. It’s all he can grab in under a minute. A couple changes of clothes, three paperbacks, and a phone charger. 

He used to carry more books, but now he can keep a whole library on his phone. When they first came out, he’d mostly ignored the advent of smartphones. It’s hard enough for him to buy cigarettes--he can’t exactly get a contract cell phone. But once 24-hour grocery stores started selling them with prepaid plans, he saved up a little and picked one out. 

The poor cashier had to teach him how to use it, and it had taken a while. But it was three in the morning, and she didn’t seem to mind. She’d downloaded a few reading apps and had shown him how to buy ebooks with a gift card. It was like she’d given him a magic wand. Suddenly he could summon any text he wanted, read all day and night, and only have to carry one pocket-sized device. 

She’d also shown him how to search the internet. A second magic wand. He could ask virtually any question on any topic any time he wanted and get an instant answer. It makes texting and making phone calls pale in comparison, especially for a guy who usually only has two acquaintances at a time. 

He picks up his bag and carries it to the closet, opening the door and dropping his stuff in the middle of the floor. Somehow his meager collection of possessions makes the thing look even bigger and emptier than it had before. 

Doesn’t matter. 

He has everything he needs. 

“I’ll unpack later,” he says, closing the door and making his way back to the couch. He settles beside Amelie, slouching a little and looking down at his hands. 

He wants to ask her how her bath was. Ask her what she’s thinking about. Ask her what she wants to do when they wake up. 

But she’s reading. He doesn’t want to bother her. 

So instead he opens his book and rests a hand on her ankle, rubbing it gently with his thumb. 

[ofcloakandmagic]

undeadgreg-rp reblogged your post and added: “undeadgreg-rp reblogged your post “undeadgreg-rp: ofcloakandmagic:…”

“Fuck that,” Greg says, on his feet beside Red. He…

@undeadgreg-rp

Vincent doesn’t have the time or energy to tell the vampire he doesn’t know what he’s dealing with, he’d at least stopped the thing from chattering. Vincent will just have to try and not let him die. The monster’s body rapidly runs forward on all fours, talons tearing up the ground as it does. Vincent darts forward, arms becoming clawed gauntlets, leaping up and ignoring the agony that washes over his body as he does, twisting to give his strike more power. The monsters flesh splits easily, down to the bone and Vincent lands on the ground, and nearly falls over as pain makes him dizzy and briefly disoriented. 

Cursing his luck when the monster keeps going forward toward the bag instead of turning around and trying to kill him, he runs after it again. It’s faster than he is right now, and when it gets close enough, it sweeps it’s arm back, going for a swipe at Greg.

[uundeadgreg]

Greg isn’t a very old vampire, but he’s old enough to be faster than whatever this thing is. He dodges its hand and grabs the bag again, punting it down the alley and away from the creature attacking them. 

Turning back to it, he narrows his eyes and rushes it, throwing a punch at its torso and feeling more bones crunching. 

He’s fighting. He’s winning. 

But, glancing back at Red, he wonders how good an idea this is. Red’s too fucked up to keep going, but it doesn’t look like he wants to stop. Greg lands another hit and retreats, standing in front of Red again. 

“Do I have to do something special to kill this thing?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the monster. “Or am I just beating the Christ out of it?”

[uundeadgreg]

made-defective

   Cress spots Greg the moment he walks in, and he grins, holding himself upside down by only his legs, bending until he touches the floor and rolling his hips as he moves into a split. Slightly bouncing as he does. It’s unnecessarily sexual, but he’s having fun doing it. He does wish Greg was in one of the front seats, he could have given the vampire a lap dance, ah well. keeping eye contact with Greg as he dances is just as fun, hell, he might even manage to fluster the guy.

Once he’s done and gets off stage, letting the cleaning crew pick up all the money that’d been thrown at him, Cress grabs himself a drink, the sports kind that were supposed to hydrate you better. Not feeling like changing, Cress lounges in the back, talking with the ladies for a bit before he requests that one of the guards go grab Greg, not literally, it’s a little sad that he has to specify that. A few of the ladies are eager to meet him, all of them are vamps of different breeds.

He’s been in clubs before, but never to watch the dancers. This is his first time really enjoying the show, and Cress’s eyes make it...intense. Good. 

He knows better than to think it’s personal. It’s a performance; an act to get tips. This is rent. Groceries. Phone bills. This is work. But...it’s very good work. Cress is...very good at what he does. 

When he disappears, Greg expects to see him come back out in jeans and settle at the bar with him. So he’s surprised when a burly security guard approaches instead. 

Fuck.

He has no idea what he’s done wrong, but being singled out by security in a place like this is never good. 

Or, that’s what he would have thought. 

After a brief word, he’s following the guy to the back, standing behind him as he knocks on an almost hidden door, stepping forward as the guard opens it for him. 

He spots Cress immediately and can’t help a grin. He looks great. Greg wonders, though, how comfortable his outfit is. Wouldn’t he want to change? I hope you’re not still dressed up for me.

But as soon as he thinks it, he realizes how ridiculous it is. Why would Cress dress up for him? He’d joked about being extra alluring, but it’d been just that--a joke. Flirting is undoubtedly a huge part of his job, and he’d been on the clock. Greg wasn’t a customer, of course, but he knows from experience it can be hard to switch that shit off. 

He wasn’t actually flirting. 

He probably just didn’t feel like changing. 

Still. 

“Hey, Cress,” Greg says. “You were great.”

[ofcloakandmagic]

undeadgreg-rp reblogged your post “undeadgreg-rp: ofcloakandmagic: undeadgreg-rp reblogged your post …”

@undeadgreg-rp

Maybe he was correct and Greg was just too… juvenile to have developed any impressive powers, or he could be wrong and that was all the vampire would ever naturally have. He shrugs and immediately regrets it as a wave of pain crashes throughout his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses a curse. So that was broken, great, good to know. He isn’t doing that again. 

Taking a breath, he looks back at Greg and tries to keep his poker face on as he says “Those powers are plenty useful. You could sign up at the Heroes Guild with that, plenty of them have one ability or the other or none at all. They take in all kinds of supernatural beings as well. I’m sure there are a few demons in there a- ” 

He stops abruptly, hearing …something, a clicking, chattering. Like teeth in the cold, but louder. Immediately standing and taking a defensive stance, he looks up, down, and around himself. Gaze eventually zeroing in on the now moving bag. The monster head was….well, chattering as if it was cold, but he has the feeling that it’s something else entirely. Vincent gets a split second warning of a low vibration beneath his feet and the ground in front of him cracks, and the body of the monster launches out from the ground, utterly demolishing the stone there. The head is chattering louder, and Vincent hisses another curse to himself. Not looking at Greg he says “Greg, close up the bag and then run away.” 

[uundeadgreg]

“Fuck that,” Greg says, on his feet beside Red. He snatches the bag and ties it up before dropping it on the ground and stomping on it hard enough to fear and feel the skull crunch. He doesn’t know if that’ll stop the fucking thing, but it should at least buy them some time. 

His hands curl into fists as he gets between Red and the monster, saying, “If I’m running, I’m taking you with me.”

Period.

In the sixties or seventies he’d have done just what Red said. He’d have run and not looked back. But he’s done being a fucking coward. This guy is too messed up to handle this shit alone. And if Greg can’t take care of it himself, he’ll take Red with him to--he has no idea where. But somewhere safe. 

I’m not gonna leave you. 

He’s not going to let someone get hurt because he was too chickenshit to stick around and fight. 

Not anymore. 

[uundeadgreg]

shadowsinmyveins

It’s impressive to Aoto, being fast and strong.able to heal and do good, instead of cause misery like their powers tended to do.But they aren’t going to think about that now. They aren’tt going to let the negative thoughts raging in their head take control easily. The vile things would have to fight for it. Focused on that, Aoto almost doesn’t hear the age question.

“N-not th-that o-o-old y-yet. I-I’m th-thi-thirty-n-none,” they answer, and with a curious tilt of their head, they question “W-w-wh-what wa-was, um, h-how hav-have t-t-t-times ch-changed? D-did y-yo-you l-l-like th-the o-old d-d-d-d-days…b-better?”

Sitting and paying rapt attention, Aoto waits for Greg’s response. There had to be a story there. Memories of days long past. …Hopefully, they weren’t painful or frightening memories.

“Y-y-you do-don’t h-have t-to answer,” they add after a moment “I-I’m ju-j-ju-just cu-curious a-about h-how y-y-y-you….a-about h-h-how th-things were b-back th-t-then.”

He chuckles a little and says, “I uh, I miss my old friends, and I miss drive-in movies. But other than that, I like it better now. Things aren’t great, but they’re at least better, you know?” 

He pulls his lighter out of his pocket and examines it, saying, “Now I can buy a phone in a grocery store and I don’t even need a bank account. I can get on the internet.” Grinning, “Man, I gotta be honest, I really like the internet. I’m not...good at it, I guess, but I think it’s pretty fuckin cool.”

He flicks his lighter open and closed and says, “I can’t really afford a computer, and it would be too big anyway, but I can read the newspaper and books on my phone. It’s... I’d have loved that, growing up.”

Being able to answer any question in a matter of seconds. Being able to find people to talk to in a matter of minutes. Being able to carry a whole library in his pocket. 

When he’d first left James, he’d been buying cheap paperbacks. They were a decent price, but they’d been bulky and easy to damage or misplace. More than once he’d had to start his collection over after abandoning everything he owned to get away from whatever. Cops, shitty boyfriends, bad clients... 

But now it’s all on his phone. It’s pretty goddamn great.

[uundeadgreg]

made-defective

Nodding in agreement, Cress looks over to his section, sure that someone needed something by now. He’s wrong, they’re still fine. Sighing he looks back at Greg and smiles “I’ll be sure to be extra alluring just for you~”  he chuckles and looks at the employees only door. “If you go all the way to the back, knock three times and wait a minute before goin in, you can meet all the ladies and the men. It’s a huge dressing room.”

Glancing at his table again, he can see they’re out of drinks, finally something to do.

“ I gotta tend to my section, but i’ll see you later.” he says with a wink, then he hurries over to the table.

———–

Later, around eleven thirty, Cress is applying make-up and having his hair brushed by Honey, one of the ladies who are off tonight. She talks to him while she does it, gossiping about everything really. He’s learning things about the others that he frankly doesn’t care to know, but he retains the information anyway. He can’t help it.

Asking about his choice of costume, as he had previously always refused to wear the leather with the belts meant to accentuate his ass, steel-toed heels and a leather half top, complete with belts meant to accentuate his chest. But he’d said he would be extra alluring just for Greg. Hetells her so and she laughs “Taking him home tonight?”

Cress scoffs and checks his face in the mirror “I just met him Honey, he’s good looking and sweet and all but no.”

She pretends to be sad for him,and walks away after setting the brush down. Likely to talk to the other ladies about Cress being ‘lonely’. Since he has nothing beter to do, he just stands against the wall near the door to the hall that lead to the stage. The wait isn’t a long one, and soon he’s working the pole like an expert to bass heavy techno music. Scanning the crowd for the nervous vampire he’d met earlier.

Greg follows Cress’s directions to the dressing room, knocking three times and waiting for permission. He pokes his head in the door and says, “Uh, hey. I just wanted to introduce myself. My name’s Greg and I’m a new bartender.”

He doesn’t stay and talk for long, though. It’s early evening and the middle of a shift, so he assumes they’re busy. 

He smiles at Cress as he goes to leave, but Cress doesn’t seem to have noticed, focused on his customers. Which is fine. Greg doesn’t want to get in the way. 

He walks a few blocks from the club and finds a wooden bench bolted to the sidewalk. He settles on it and lights a cigarette, taking his time and letting the nicotine wash over him. 

He smokes until his fingers tingle and checks his watch periodically. Then, frowning, he pulls out his phone. He’s still not sure how to use all the functions, but the grocery store cashier who’d sold it to him showed him how to buy and read books on it. 

He sets a timer and opens up one of his favorites: Trepidation. An astronaut, sent alone to Mars, stumbles on an advanced civilization there. She meets the locals and is forced to choose between staying and leaving her life on Earth behind, or going back home and exposing this society to threats from a hostile planet. 

It’s his favorite series; he’d first read it in Alice and Sylvia’s bathroom in 1969. The first night James had hit him. 

Don’t think about him.

Instead he focuses on the protagonist, following her around NASA and watching her prepare for her mission. 

He’s halfway through the atmosphere when his phone beeps loud enough to make him jump. Cursing under his breath, he shuts off the alarm and puts the thing to sleep, tucking it back into his pocket. 

On his feet again, he lights another cigarette, making his way back to the club. He’s excited to see Cress perform. He’s excited to hang out together afterward. He still feels like he should bring Cress something to eat, but he has no idea what Cress likes. If he’s allergic to anything. 

Of course it’s a little late, now, anyway. This time of night, most restaurants are closed or nearly closed, so he’d have to get something from a convenience store. 

Maybe I should do some baking when I get home. 

Some fresh bread or something. It’s usually a pretty safe bet for ingratiating himself with new people. 

Plus it’s fun. 

Back in the club, he finds a seat at the bar and turns to face the stage. He’s not in any paying customers’ way, but he can still see everything.

Cress comes out right on time and when he does, Greg catches himself smiling again. He’s exactly as fluid and graceful as Greg had imagined. He’s incredible. Greg couldn’t do half that shit in sweatpants and Cress is up there in leather and heels. 

Fuck. 

His smile spreads into a grin as Cress dances, each move seeming to top the one before it. It’s impressive. He’s impressive. 

[uundeadgreg]

ofcloakandmagic

The guy is like a curious kid, it’s kind of endearing, and if he wasn’t so angry due to his slowly healing injuries, he’d care more. As it is, he runs his hand through his hair and huffs before answering “ …a lot, including being hard to injure, and things like this.” At saying ‘this’  the arm he raised to move his hair instantaneously shifts form into what looks like a scaled gauntlet with a clawed hand section. Then it shifts only at the end into a cestus. Then back to normal.

Was that enough of a show for the vampire? It had better be because he’s not doing it again unless he has to. Lowering his arm again, he looks at Greg, and questions “What about you? What can you do? Besides healing.”

He’s never met a vampire like Greg before, so he’s curious. Though Greg seems young in vampire years….so he may not have even developed powers yet.Still, Vincent wants to know.

“Damn,” Greg says. “Nothing like that.”

Looking down at his cigarette, “I’m just kinda strong. And quick. And I heal really fast.” 

Is that it? 

He tries to think of any other special abilities he has and...no more come to mind. Shaking his head, “It’s more liabilities than anything else.”

He’s practically immortal, but he feels almost more vulnerable as a vamp than he ever did when he was alive. At least then he didn’t have to cover his windows in aluminum foil, and he didn’t have to keep such a goddamn close eye on the time to avoid frying. 

He’s been in direct sunlight as a vamp for a few seconds at a time and it’s...torture. There’s no other word for it. It’s fucking awful. And even indirect light is enough to hurt. 

Looking over at Red, “So, did the city hire you? To uh, kill the monsters? Or...”

Or did you even get a call? Maybe Red had killed them without being asked, hoping to get a reward. 

[uundeadgreg]

shadowsinmyveins

  Greg is very…sweet. Nice to talk to, despite Aoto’s suspicion that all this was some sort of trick.Aoto sits down on the cold metal of the shipping crate and rests their elbow on their knee and their chin on their palm. Comfortable in the somewhat hunched position. Looking at Greg, Aoto thinks for a minute, debating on whether or not he should answer.

“Y-you di-did-d….I-I’m no-no-not f-f-freaked o-out. Y-yes I’m-I’m i-i-immortal.” they reply “H-hav-haven’t aged s-since I-I-I wa-was …..th-thirty I t-t-th-think…a-and ho-ho-hon-ho-honestly I don-don’t know e-either.”

It’s a difficult thing to accept and live with, knowing that everyone you see, everyone you’ve known loved or hated are going to grow old and die around you. Well, everyone mortal anyway. Sighing some, Aoto looks at Greg “W-wh-whatr s-sort of p-powers do y-y-yo-you, um, h-have?”

“Uh, nothing too impressive,” he says. “I’m pretty strong and kinda fast. I have the teeth thing... Um, my blood can heal people.” A shrug. “That’s basically it. Honestly, being a vamp has more drawbacks than anything. Silver, sunlight, blood... I can’t even check my hair in a mirror.”

He reaches up to touch it and it feels messy. Although it always feels messy, and part of that is because he doesn’t own a comb. He usually just runs his fingers through it and does his best to break up tangles when he finds them. He’s never been good at picking apart knots, though. He’d never had long hair growing up, and when he started growing it out, he was too preoccupied with other things to really take care of it. 

But it’s fine. Not important. 

Looking up at Aoto, “Can I ask how old you are? Just curious. I was born in ‘44 and died in ‘69. I was, uh, twenty-five.”

Pretty young to die. Pretty dumb to agree to it. Although everything he’d done with James had been pretty dumb. He was a dumb kid. And, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s not much smarter now than he was then. 

[uundeadgreg]

made-defective

At the offer, Cress gives an apologetic smile and shakes his head in the negative, looking behind him for a few moments to keep an eye on his section. Still nothing. Turning back to Greg he says “Sorry, I’m still working, mm, but I have break in an hour, if you’re willing to wait that long?”  

Cress seriously doubts the vampire is just going to sit around and wait for him.Unless he was enjoying the show on stage, it’s a mash-up today, there’s no real order for whose coming out and dancing. The guys or the ladies or the others, it’s funny to watch the men in the crowd grimace and and try not to watch the male performances. Same for the women in the crowd. Well, some of each, others are more sensible and they just have fun with it. Humming some in thought, Cress looks at Greg and grins “I have a performance at midnight, you could come back then, because after my show I’m off of work.”

Greg has nowhere to be and nothing to do, but Cress doesn’t need to know that. He knows he can’t hide how boring and empty his life is for long, but maybe a little bit longer?

“I’ll come back at midnight,” he says. “I don’t want to eat up your break.”

He’d rather not have a time limit while they’re hanging out. Or at least not such a short one. And anyway, Greg wants to see Cress perform. He’s so graceful and his movements are so fluid--he’s probably an amazing dancer. 

Is that creepy? 

He’s not trying to be creepy. Cress is gorgeous, but that’s not why Greg wants to see him dance. Or, it’s not entirely why. Even walking around the club, Cress moves like water. I bet you’re really great. 

Part of him wants to offer to bring Cress something. Whatever. Maybe a sandwich? He’ll probably want something to eat after a long shift. 

But that does seem weird. Too familiar. 

Maybe next time.