driftfleet | [open!]

Entry tags:

[open!]

Who: YOU! And Sascha...kind of.
Broadcast: n/a
Action: Various places
When: now!

Bloodsport

[ When Sascha wakes at his usual time of "when everyone sensible has gone to bed", it isn't really Sascha that wakes up per say. It's still his body, his memories and feelings and experiences are still there...but there's also more. Much more. The one who opens his eyes slowly and finds himself under the paw of an oversized wolf isn't the forgetful and over-affectionate creature who thinks himself a vampire, but someone else entirely.

Someone he used to be. Is? The conflicting memories and thoughts that assault him are disorienting enough that he defaults to autopilot as he pulls himself from beneath Bigby's limbs, giving his fur a habitual pat--but he's quick to leave after that. Those habits aren't his and the wolf, not his companion. He has never shared the company of anyone while he's slept. Predators don't lie with their prey, they don't socialize with them and befriend them as he...no, Sascha, apparently has.

He doesn't stumble into the halls nor show any other telltale signs of distress, but the way he carries himself and moves with a much calmer, more solemn demeanour doesn't fit the goofball vampire who normally roams the halls so late at night. There's definitely a different feel to him now.

It's not Sascha's habit but one entirely his own that drives him to pass by the rooms of each of his crew mates one by one, effectively stalking them and getting a sense of the real versus his memories. So, Bloodsport. The question here is are you awake, and do you have the heeb-jeebs yet? ]

Iskaulit + Other ships

[ There's an immense feeling of discord that comes from waking with the thoughts and memories of someone you've never been as though you were placed on top of an already considerably sizable amount. It's kind of like waking up one day and suddenly remembering hundreds upon hundreds of lives you've never actually lived even though it feels like you have. The creature that would be Sascha is experiencing that now: he knows the Fleet and doesn't. He's met the strange humans and mutants and others here, but hasn't. He can remember that each evening Sascha wakes he hops from ship to ship to check on certain individuals--a habit he breaks immediately when he heads to the Iskaulit instead after scoping out the Bloodsport.

It's irritating. Strange. He's not sure what he'd expected to happen once he had given into hunger and desperation and devoured himself all those years ago...but it certainly wasn't this. To remember who and what he is, why Sascha's never known any of that, and why he now chooses to keep more to himself than seek out his 'usuals.'

And of course by keeping to himself, I mean he's been straying downwind of the fox area, silently staring and stalking as he debates the point of hunting any of them when he knows it will do nothing to abate his hunger. The same goes for the others aboard the Iskaulit...they make for a much more tempting meal.

Heck, so does everyone else aboard the Atroma's fleet. So if your character happens to be unlucky enough to be wandering alone at this late hour they might just get the sense of being followed. Or hunted, depending on how good that sixth sense is.

Or you could just run into him on the Iskaulit being aloof and creepy. That works too. ]

[ ooc; for those not on my plurk SASCHA IS AUGMENT GLITCHING BACK THE MEMORIES AND PERSONALITY HE USED TO HAVE before he actually became "Sascha." Which means he's old and tired and he eats humans in his spare time so clearly this means you should come on by.

feel free to hit me up on plurk @ owlits/PM me if you wanna plot anything! ]

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But we can get you back.

[ there's certainty in his voice that he's not sure he feels. he has to believe that sascha's not gone - if sascha were gone he'd be eaten by now, right? and as long as his friend is trapped there beneath the surface - winn's not gonna stop, he's going to try to reach him. ]

Let me try to help you.

[ This time the Sheol can't help it. The sigh that leaves his chest is heavy as he leans his head against the side of Winn's idly playing with the front of his shirt with both hands. Making sure he can grab him if need be. ]

I am "back." I've remembered.

Remembered...

[ that word hits something somewhere deep inside of him. remembered. ]

You can't be sure - the Atroma, they mess with our minds, you could be remembering a false reality. [ god, he hopes he's remembering a false reality because accepting that this is his friend is way too painful, and the closer he presses the more winn tries to back away. he's getting progressively more certain that he's not coming out of this in one piece. ]

What do you remember? We can sit and talk - [ pleading. the proximity, the way he holds him, it all makes winn's hairs stand on end. it's not right. why does he always end up afraid of the people who mean the most to him? ]

The Atroma... I wonder. [ It would be convenient, but it wouldn't explain why he remembers himself, why he knows he ought to be "dead."

He doesn't intend to ponder long on it. ]

You don't want to sit with me though...do you? Not really. You want to call for help. You're afraid of me.

I wanna do both. If you're controlled by the Atroma - it means you may not have a choice in what you do. I wanna talk to you, I wanna help you - and Kara could help me do that.

[ yes, he's terrified of him. but admitting it isn't going to do him any good, is it? it would seem accusatory, and he's getting somewhere - he can feel it. he doesn't want to lose the little progress he's made. so he will insist that it's the atroma he fears, the atroma he mistrusts, and maybe that'll allow him his kryptonian buffer.

thank god they've restored kara's powers. ]

I'm your friend. Do you remember that? We're friends.

You are his friend, [ he corrects, but not necessarily to be cruel or to purposely alienate Winn (although he would prefer that he not feel so incredibly...attached. He's never experienced that himself before and it's unnerving). ] not mine.

You have never met me. The one you know is...very human, like you. He thinks like you do. [ More or less. At least, much more than him. ]

I do not. Without his memories I think I would have eaten you without a thought.

[ He closes his eyes, and shrugs. ] If that sounds heartless given the circumstances, I apologize.

[ ...But not enough to give Winn his space back or let him up from the wall. It's a very bizarre mixture of Sascha's want to be close, combined with the allure of all the good associated with Winn's scent. Sascha adored it. He'd do anything to devour it--but can't. Won't, at least not this time. Maybe given enough time to properly disassociate himself from all the emotional bonds and attachments Sascha has formed, but right now?

Inconceivable. ]

[ maybe if he adjusts his strategy, he'll be set loose. he just has to get back to somewhere where someone could protect him - there are so many heroes on this fleet, how could he run into trouble without any of them around? ]

Well I'm meeting you now. Is your name still Sascha?

[ if attachment is what's keeping him breathing - then attached he will get. clearly as cold and terrifying as - whatever it is that's possessing sascha (it hits him so close to home the pain almost outweighs the fear. it's like his dad, all over again) is - there's still something human inside him, some bonds of friendship that refuse to let him harm winn, at least for now, and he's going to latch onto them for dear life. it can't be just a memory - a memory without the emotion is meaningless. sascha's somewhere in there, and it's sascha he appeals to. ]

What is it you want, besides food?

My kind do not use names. "Sascha" is something given to m...to him, when he first woke. [ He frowns when he has to correct himself, still not sure if he should consider them one and the same. Sheol don't have a concept of soul or heart like the eastern and western philosophies, so for him it's all about his body and experiences. And technically speaking, he doesn't have any after the point where he devoured himself. ]

I do not have a name...but if it puts you at ease, you may use that. [ because if thinking of him as "Sascha" will help Winn find momentary peace he can't rationalize taking that away from him.

But he also avoids that second question while doing so. ]

Your kind?

[ he was under the impression that sascha's awakening meant the time he was bitten, transformed. that before that...he was human. but maybe he was wrong. and maybe the key here is listening, keeping him talking. maybe, just maybe, when this horrible malfunction ends (please, let it be a temporary malfunction, and not one of those permanent information uploads, he won't be able to take that if sascha were really gone, replaced by this terrifying - something), he could use what he learns here to help sascha. ]

Who are you?

[ how is he just -- standing here, pinned to a wall, chatting with his assailant? how is this his life, how did he end up here, and where the hell's the exit? he wants to help sascha, but more than anything he wants to hide behind kara right now - watch her fix it all, like he's seen her do so many times...go back to kitty's warm embrace, and never leave his room again. ]

[ Instead? He gets this guy fiddling with him here and there, like he just can't make up his mind on what he wants to do with Winn other than keep him here. To himself, close by so that he can enjoy being around him.

And as a predator he takes a certain enjoyment out of keeping his prey right where he wants it, pulling back only enough to catch Winn's chin in his hands in a deceptively light grip, prompting to turn and tilt his head as he pleases so he can better inspect him. ]

Don't you mean "what"?

No. 'What' is what you ask of a monster. 'Who' is what you ask of a friend.

[ he keeps his eyes steady despite himself. he has to somehow reach him, it's his only defense. he can't fight his way out of this and he can't count on hank just happening to be around at the right time, like he was on the planet with that t-rex. if no one else comes - if no one strong comes - being likable is his only chance to walk away from this. ]

Unfortunate then, that you've befriended one. [ But he'll play along and nice for the moment since he has no reason not to answer Winn's questions. ]

I am Sheol, though I doubt the word means anything to you.

You're right...kinda sounds like an old Jewish name - Sheol - like Shaul - that's a name, right?

[ he tries for a small smile. the longer they're stuck here in these awkward positions, the less certain he grows of how he should be behaving. apparently awkward babbling is taking a shot at it now. because talking is good. talking means his mouth is too busy to chew him up. talking means he may stay attached. ]

What's it mean?

I don't know what meaning your kind prescribes to it nowadays, truthfully. But when I was myself we were considered "those of bottomless hunger for life." Roughly translated.

[ Yes, keep talking and letting him inspect you like a fine cut of meat, Winn. It's probably your best bet. ]

[ does he have another bet? he's feeling very literally cornered over here. ]

That's...cheery. Translated from what?

[ because linguistics is a much less terrifying topic than that meaning. he shudders at that name, at the way this creature wearing sascha's face inspects him. this can't be happening, he just woke up from his coma, he can't die now...he can't make kitty go through losing him al over again.

think he commends himself, as his fingers very slowly try to sneak their way to his communicator. if he could just call kara - and mention the iskaulit - she could do the rest, he's sure of it. ]

[ The Sheol seems pretty preoccupied with Winn's eyes for the moment--it could be worth a shot. ]

The Hellenes, I believe. [ aka the Greeks, which means that this guy? Has been around a heck of a long time. And that's just the first time anyone bothered to attribute a description to them beyond "death." ]

You speak Greek, or is it just the one word like 'eureka' or 'acropolis'?

[ he has to try something so digging around in his pocket blindly for his communicator it is. he really wishes this thing came with a programmed panic button call option, or at least a speed dial. ]

I can. And any number of other languages if need arise. [ One doesn't hunt humans without picking up at least some of their bizarre language.

While Winn rummages for his communicator the Sheol will turn his head from one side to the other, contemplative. Right...about three seconds before he leans in and give the curve of one cheekbone a short flick of his tongue, to taste the sweat and fear on Winn's skin.

He couldn't resist. ]

[ it's an instinctive reaction - winn's head jerks back violently, trying to get away from the threat, and hits the wall hard as he tries to push him away. ]

Don't eat me! [ the plea is high pitched, and loud, and shaking. his eyes bulge again, and there is plenty of sweat and fear for his tasting pleasure there. his legs feel like they might buckle beneath him, but he can feel something else, too. adrenaline. if he could get one good hit in - he's not that far from the shuttles all he'll have to do is make it to one first and then so long as he lands on the tourist first, kara could be by his side in the blink of an eye, all he'd have to do is scream, and he definitely has a whole lot of screaming in him. ]

[ It's not the reaction he expects, but honestly? It should have been. Winn actually startles him with how abrupt and sudden he turns like that, and in an instant it's like all his predatory instincts go off at once. Winn's scared, pleading, trying to pull back and smells just like food food food.

The Sheol's fangs practically shoot down out of his gums as he inhales, grabbing onto Winn's shoulders to shove him back, and it's not even a heartbeat after that he's lunging forward towards Winn with mouth open wide.

...But the bite never comes. Or rather, it doesn't come to Winn. The sheer amount of attachment Sascha has for the human in his hands is the only thing that saves Winn's life and allows the Sheol to bite down heavily into his own arm instead, teeth grit and biting down hard to keep them there.

He is not making a meal out of you, mister so help him. ]

[ it all goes by so fast; with his head still reeling from the hit he's taken from the wall, winn fully expects sharp pain to follow when he sees those fangs. but it never comes.

for a heartbeat all he can do is stare in horror, gratitude, and heartache as his friend turns on himself in a desperate ditch to save his life. he has to choose between conflicting instincts and he has to choose between them fast. he wants to help sascha, but there's nothing he can do for him if he's dead. he wants to run away, but he warned him what would happen if he did. he has split seconds to make his decision, so with all the adrenaline his body has been hoarding on like it's going out of style and with jim's voice guiding him in his head, he shoves the distracted creature back hard and takes off running frantically not to the shuttles - that's way too far - but to his lecture hall that's only a few feet away, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

after proceeding to barricade it with every last chair in the room, he pulls out his communicator and calls kara ]

Come on - pick up pick up pick up - [ if the late hour call isn't alarming enough, everything about his face screams his distress - his hair unruly, his clothes disheveled, blood trickling down his neck, his breathing, the color of his face that looks sickly translucent - but he remains coherent through it all. ]

The Iskaulit - something's wrong with Sascha. Hurry.

[ It's simultaneously the dumbest and smartest thing Winn could have possibly done--and it saves his life. Staying would have left him too close, too deliciously close for the Sheol to resist the temptation that comes from the feeling of never-ending starvation. He smelled too much like prey and as much as he wants to chasehuntkill when Winn takes off? What he does instead is growl into his arm and bite down harder, forcibly holding it to his mouth with his other.

Fucking hell though, he's so hungry. A door isn't going to stop him for long if he really loses it; Kara better hurry. ]

[ she gets his video and responds ]

Winn? I'm here, on the Iskaulit. I'll be there in a minute.

[ and of course it's less than a minute, but she flies over to the lecture hall, seeing not!Sascha outside of the door ]

What's going on?

[ he clings to his communicator, desperate for any sign of whatever it is that going on out there, heart pounding so loudly he can barely hear kara's voice over the racket. is it his heart? or is the pounding coming from the door? he can't even tell anymore. ]

Be careful! He's not himself, Kara, he's glitching it's bad - you gotta contain him - he's - [ for a moment he can't bring himself to say it. it's too horrible, and saying it seals it, makes it real. no, it's already real. ] going to eat people if you don't. He's strong and he's fast and his teeth are insane. I'll call you backup - who do you want?

[ More people. Lovely. Perhaps the only saving grace is that unlike Winn, Kara doesn't smell like something to be immediately hunted down and devoured.There's no thick scent of fear on her, not like Winn--but he's still quite careful with himself here. Rihgt now he has his instincts and Sascha's lack of impulse control, and the combination is not at all desirable.

He can hear Winn through the communicator and growls, swallowing the build-up of blood in his mouth--right before he tears a chunk out of his out arm, to keep his focus there and on the taste of the flesh in his mouth rather than their new arrival and the morsel barricaded oh-so-close. ]

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