Sascha (
pneumo) wrote in
driftfleet2016-08-09 07:17 am
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[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! ]
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! ]
no subject
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Her coffin was lighter than little Charles'.
There's a tiny tremor in his hands that he doesn't notice, but his voice is steady.] Why the lack of control now? You seem [older] more knowledgeable.
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He follows whatever impulse he has at a given moment without restraint. He has...a desire to be around people, but it does not mix well with my remembering. People are afraid of me. I remember that fear means food. [ He presses his nose against the crook of Kurt's neck, taking in his scent. ] So my first impulse is to hunt.
[ And you can see where that goes. ]
tw: cannibalism
On the other, the knowledge that he's more likely to need to fight for his life is a perverse comfort to him. He's used to it, been fighting most of his life now and given he's standing here Kurt's proven himself a survivor. The latter part is still not as important to him as it should be.]
Is that why you came in here, then? To hunt me?
I would love to see how often that is ACTUALLY triggering
Where he comes from anyway. ]
You aren't afraid of me. You don't smell like prey.
Me too actually. Also suicidal idealism warning; this is turning out to be a fun thread.
[It isn't a boast, just the simple truth. And even though the thought of Sascha eating people horrifies him, something inside Kurt would be very deeply satisfied by dying the same way Linda did. It would be his last chance to be close to her.
He doubts it will come to that, and is surprised to find himself relieved. There are people here he doesn't want to leave, one of whose body is standing in the loop of his tail. Gently, Kurt informs him:] You know if you do anything more than scare people, I'll have to stop you?
oodles of fun
I bit my Captain and another male, as well. But those were on purpose. [ And much, much different than an attempt to eat someone like what happened with Winn. Nami he was taste-testing. Sam he was just incapacitating. ]
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His pulse jumps when the Sheol's nose brushes his neck, a muscle in his jaw jumping. His hands slide off the monster's wrists, one of them sliding down his arm with intent to rest on his head. The gesture is as deceptively gentle as Kurt's voice continues to be as he asks:] Why? And how badly are they hurt?
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[ It's not as if he took chunks out of either. Just a small puncture, and in Sam's case enough to turn him numb. ]
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Kurt forces himself to draw in a slow breath (when had he stopped breathing?) and close his eyes. With Sascha's head where it is, keeping them open won't stop the man from tearing out his throat.] So. [He swallows hard.] Why did you come looking for me?
no subject
At Kurt's question he draws in a slow breath and closes his eyes, again starting to rub lazy circles in his fur. Sorry. ]
I caught your scent and I wanted to see you. [ be near him. It's a drive he gets entirely from Sascha's memories. ]
this is shit i'm sorry
When this creature claimed to be a carnivore, Kurt hadn't made the connection. Hadn't wanted to; plenty of carnivores will attack humans if threatened, but won't hunt them given another choice. Sascha isn't one of them.
The hand in Sasch--the creature's hair is shaking, and Kurt's head joins it in silent negation.] What-- [The word comes out strangled, and it's as though a dam breaks. The next come out in an angry shout. The tail looped around the Sheol's neck tightens like a noose, quick as thought. The intent is to force the son of a bitch to look at him, though he doesn't particularly care if he can breathe while doing so.] What the fuck do you think you are, that you can tell me something like that right now? With how my Linda died?! I should rip your fucking head off!
no shh it's perfect
He could fight back. He could bite and claw and render if he wanted to. But he doesn't. And Kurt needs this more than he feels any desire to live despite the fact that he knows he can't die (wishes he could).
If he could get the air to answer he'd tell Kurt that he's what he's always been: a predator. But he can't, and thus he only stares back solemnly, muscles in his neck flexing in a vain attempt to draw in air. ]
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(Hadn't he learned his lesson with Bobby, with Logan?)
A growl slips through his teeth, the Sheol's display of passivity fanning his anger. In the moment he feels condescended to on top of betrayed, and it nearly makes him see red.] Fight back, you son of a bitch. [The slur is punctuated by Kurt jerking a knee up with intent to drive it into the Sheol's gut, hard.]
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He doesn't understand it, but he understands enough. He's not privy to the entire circumstances which have generated this much anger and rage, but he's seen the look in enough eyes over his lifetime (lifetimes?) that he wishes that for once, miraculously, it would end the way they want it to.
The tail keeps him from speaking, from taking any breaths and despite what anyone might think about Sheol or Carmilla the truth of the matter is they very much need air like any other living thing. The edges of his vision are starting to blur and his head pounds for it, but still his only action is to brush his thumb over over cheek, ever tender and ever hesitant to inflict even the slightest harm. Kurt doesn't fear him. He isn't prey. Sascha likes him.
And that means he does, too. ]
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His expression twists, his tail sliding off the Sheol's neck as though the skin had turned scorching. Kurt's hands move from the monster's hair to fist in his shirt, tightly enough that his nails threaten to rip the fabric.] Do something, damn you! [The words, snarled past the lump in his throat, have a hint of plea to them. Fight back, mock him, do something that will make it easy to hate because Kurt doesn't want to know if he can forgive this.]
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By the time Kurt snarls at him he's feeling less light-headed and suffocated, and he lifts his head to look at the man on an even level. He habours no hatred or malice, no anger or signs of aggression. He can't grant that wish to Kurt. Won't, not even with the endless hunger he possesses gnawing at his very being. He doesn't want to hurt him.
What feelings he has for the man are in fact the exact opposite. He empathizes with his want to hate, to be given justification for what he feels. But the Sheol isn't some mindless, ill-willed monster who preys on humans simply because he can or because he enjoys it. He does it for survival, and with very specific rules and reasoning. Humans are food, but not indiscriminately. And not because they're lesser.
Kurt though... What Sascha has for Kurt is adoration. A want to understand an empathize. Affection. Fondness. Attachment. And it's those that fuel his actions as he gives a crooked and tired quirk of his lips before he does "something."
He leans in much the same way he had with Kitty, and closes any distance between their lips. ]