ph_logs | November Catch-All

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oc: lord erik osborne

November Catch-All

Who: Lord Erik Osborne & You
What: Open post for November shenanigans
When: Thru Nov
Where: All over town
Warnings: General vampire warnings that blood drinking is always possible for discussion/depiction, NSFW warning in some of these because he is, you know, the town whore, discussion of death. Will warn as needed.

Well, I don't know where they come from
The morning after his demise at the hands of Chris, during that carnival duel to the death, Erik finds himself sprawled out in the alley behind the Oak & Iron looking for all the world like a drunkard in a gutter. And, ew, why is he wet?

"Ugh," he groans as something steps on his chest. Something... alive? "A-ah," he sits up lightening fast, causing the cat that was treading on his chest to yowl at him indignantly as if he's being the rude one.

It isn't just one cat, either. There's a whole mob of them. They are rubbing up against him now, standing up on his legs and headbutting his back, meowing insistently like they are expecting something from him.

"What do you want?" he asks them, annoyed. "I don't have anything for you to eat."

But they sure do come
These cats are relentless. He's walking back to his home now looking like the pied piper with a parade of loudly meowing cats following behind. No matter what he tries to do to shoo them away, they just won't leave.

"I already told you, I don't have any food!" he practically pleads to them. "Just leave me alone!"

I hope they're comin' for me
A new notice goes up on the bulletin board:

Seeking:
Someone to help test the sturdiness of my new writing desk. Open to all comers, but especially certain newspaper employees who know the value of a good, hard endorsement. Call on me at any time.

Your Premier Whore,
Lord Erik Osborne.

Wildcard
Hit me up with anything at all. I love surprises.

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"Spells? Yet another thing we do not have." Arguably, it is some kind of ancient magic that animates him, but he cannot call on it to work his own will.

"A comfort in some ways, terrifying in others. She is real, and her mandates are iron-clad. But I hope never to meet her, for it would surely be the end of me. Drawing the attention of a god can only mean trouble." Which is why he finds it strange how some in this town invoke their names so easily.

"Ah, now there is one thing we do have in common. Vampires and all other creatures of supernatural ilk are known in my world, too. We coexist in a somewhat tense peace. It was Mother who made that so when she appeared to personally sign The Accords, a law that binds us vampires not to harm humans. In exchange, the humans let us run our own affairs with minimal intrusion. The werewolves in my world explicitly refused to sign or abide by this law."

"I suppose you're right about that. I'm never all that comfortable tangling with something killable that I know is stronger than me, anyway... I can imagine a god or goddess would be so much worse."

At the explanation about werewolves refusing to sign The Accords, Emery says, "Ah. I could... I could see that. It's hard to get different packs to agree, and if you were trying to get a consensus from all of them? I could see them just going 'fuck it, not worth the damn trouble'. Not saying it's right, just... with what I know of my people..."

"Mother can compel us by blood. If she commands us to kneel, then we kneel. She could kill with a word." So, yeah, that's pretty intimidating.

As uncharitable as the thought is, he can't helping marveling that this is a rather surprising bit of humility coming from a werewolf. Not that he can speak much better for some vampires. Just because the commandment exists doesn't mean there aren't still bad actors within vampire ranks. When Mother is far away, her influence is weaker.

"This was more than just a refusal to bend the knee, however. This was a betrayal in blood. Werewolves are not a separate species. How to put this succinctly?" He taps his chin in thought.

"We vampires have the ability to take the form of animals. We always have. But, it comes at a risk. Inside us all lives a Beast, it is the bloodlust, the craving, the animal inside. We come closer to the beast in animal form. Sometimes, too close. Back in the time before, vampires began spending more time in their animal forms, mainly as wolves. They shed their human form and with it their humanity. They binged on blood and became so monstrous they were barely recognizable as vampires anymore. They liked to hunt humans and they were unwilling to give that up. So strong was that will to be something other than vampire that they were able to defy Mother. So they were cast out. It is now forbidden for any of us to take the form of a wolf, unless we also want to be cast out. Or killed."

Emery is silent for a long while after Erik explains how werewolves are related to vampires in his world. He drains his cup of water and fiddles with it in his hands, still thinking.

"The way you describe this Beast inside... it does sound familiar, in a way. There is something in me that enjoys the hunt, the kill, the blood. And I don't know for certain all of our history. But what I know... for me..." He looks up at Erik. "I am less human than the others. I'm one of the wolfborn. Born from a wolf and a were, born as a wolf... and maybe my humanity is deficient, but... they haven't had the best showing of things either, have they?"

Erik gives him the silence to think it over, so silent he isn't even breathing. Until he needs to talk again.

"No. They haven't. But it isn't as if my own kind are faultless. I can't help but wonder--and I'm sorry if this is a rude question--if you were born a wolf, why not stay as one? Or, do you not get to control when and how you change?"

{Feh, sorry. I just wanted to edit but then something weird happened.}

"To change is part of our nature, just like Mother Moon. We normally have control of when and how we change, except on the night of the full moon. Whatever form I am in, another will be chosen for me for the night. By their will and not mine."

A slight smile tugs at one side of Emery's mouth. "Besides, a wolf can't speak. Are you tired of hearing my voice already?"

"So, if I ever want to know what phase of the moon it is, you're the man to ask." He's trying to make light of something that sounds deeply troubling. But, maybe that's his own fear seeping through just a touch.

"No. I don't think I'll tire of it any time soon. You're very charming--just my type."

Emery shrugs, but smiles at the joke, weak as it is. "There are sillier talents. But I'm more accurate than an almanac."

It's the second part of what Erik says that gets a true laugh out of Emery. "You may be the first person to call me charming. At least to my face." Fun, sure. Wild, definitely. Not so much with charming.

He's a beast and he knows it. Revels in it.

"But who knows. Maybe you're the type to like a romp in the woods, despite appearances."

"Now, don't sell yourself short. You're personable, affable, and very good-looking. How is that not charming?" He didn't say you were polite.

"You should know that appearances can often be deceiving. I'm not afraid to get my hands and knees dirty when the occasion arises. So long as I can have a bath sometime after."

Emery grins, and the slightly too-sharp appearance of his teeth is probably more noticable with all of them on display. He teases lightly, "Could always toss ya in the river afterward."

(In truth, he wouldn't do that. But maybe it's a test, to see how Erik reacts to Emery saying something outrageous.)

Erik has to resist not showing off his own teeth in childish retaliation. "You could try. But you would have to catch me, first."

"Well," Emery chuckles, "you just let me know when the chase is on, Lord Erik."

For now, though, Emery moves a little closer on the couch. "You've indulged me and listened to my storytelling. I do think I owe you that compensation for your time. You just let me know where you'd rather bite."

"You'll know when it is," Erik replies back with a playful grin.

Emery moves in and Erik casually drapes an arm behind him on the sofa. "I won't say no to that. I prefer the neck; Call me traditional. I won't take much."

"Do you want to sit in my lap for easier access?" It's said in a teasing tone, but Emery wouldn't mind if Erik actually did.

As it is, he leans closer to Erik and tilts his head to expose the side of his neck, where the major veins are.

"Since you're offering." Erik shifts over and settles onto Emery, straddling him. It actually does make this easier, but he's never admitting that out loud. Damn tall people.

Erik cradles the back of Emery's head with one hand and leans to the side tilted out. He's delicate about this, opening his jaws around the throb of Emery's veins and sinking just the top two fangs firmly and confidently into the flesh, gentle and precise. When the blood starts to well up, he locks his lips around the wound and laps with his tongue to encourage the flow. Using only slight suction. It's less like a bite now than like a particularly wet hickey.

Warmth begins to spread through him almost immediately. He never expected he'd drink from a werewolf but... wow, Emery's blood is even more potent than expected. Just a few sips and Erik's already feeling as full and sated as if he'd half-drained a man. It's tempting to keep going, but he gave his word. So, with one last lingering swipe of his tongue, he forces himself to pull away, quickly licking his lips and teeth clean so there won't be any blood in his smile.

"That... is very satisfying. Thank you. Do you heal supernaturally, or would you like me to close the wound?"

Emery is mostly quiet as Erik feeds, making only a soft sigh at the bite. Past dealings with the vampires of his world have him quite used to paying for things in blood. It's not a pleasurable experience for him the way it might be for some humans, but it's at least a pleasant one... especially since Erik clearly knows what he's doing.

(Young vampires tend to either open up larger wounds or overcompensate with smaller ones by sucking too hard, in Emery's experience.)

At Erik's question, Emery lifts a hand to his neck, touching the bite wound and then examining the blood on his fingers.

"Ah, only if you'd like me to linger. When I leave here, I'll take my wolf shape and that will heal a minor wound like this, no issue." Emery licks the blood off his fingers casually, then swipes those fingers against his linen pants to dry them. He uses his other hand to pat Erik on the shoulder.

"I'm quite comfortable," Erik says with a cheeky smile. He's in no hurry to stop straddling such a handsome man. He's warmed from his meal, but like a moth attracted to flame, Erik always seeks heat where he can get it.

"This is no trouble," he adds, biting a pinprick hole in his thumb and pressing it neatly to Emery's wounds. Just like that, they will be healed, good as new.

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November Catch-All

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