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11/19/2023 12:47 PM 

Question of Faith | LOTR sample

 
 
Question of faith


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Lothlórien. For as few times as he had traveled to that land, Legolas could
always seem to recall the beauty of it from pure imagination alone. Perhaps one could understand that doing such a thing was not hard; had they been there themselves. For he could think of no other land adorned with such vibrant colors and intricate structures crafted throughout the trees. True, each of the elven cities was a sight to behold -- for each had its own breathtaking elements to them. But Lothlórien had an aura to it that Legolas could not put into words. In the darkness of the night, the city seemed to glow with spiraling trees of silver and gold. It was a beauty that had to be experienced firsthand and explored under the blessing of Lady Galadriel.

It was at times such as the one present that he wished he could have come to Lothlórien under less strain. It would seem, as the years continued to pass, that each time he found himself within the boundaries of the elven city; something was amiss. This time, it was because of a ring. The one ring. Legolas had no one else to blame but himself for getting into this situation. His father had sent him to Rivendell as a messenger to represent Mirkwood. Thranduil had not told him to pledge his allegiance to anyone. But the prince had offered his services to the Fellowship. In doing so he had given his loyalty to a hobbit and vowed to follow him until he was no longer needed.

He had not expected it to lead him here. How he wished other reasons had led him to be here. To visit with Lady Galadriel under different circumstances would have been considered an honor. But instead, he and his companions were there for protection. They had suffered too many losses in the short time frame they had been on their journey. One of those losses had struck even the elf deep. But he did not let emotions hang so visibly on his features. Only when Lady Galadriel had dismissed them and bid them to rest had he finally commented on it. The lament for Gandalf had struck a chord in the prince's chest. Heartstrings felt as if they were being pulled taunt. His movements became more rigid while his iris' were restricted. Nails had scraped lightly along the sides of the silver vase in his grasp. "I have not the heart to repeat what they are saying."
It had been the only thing said to the young hobbits around him as he peered up at the trees when they asked what the elves were singing. It was obvious that the grey wizard had meant a lot to many throughout the lands of Middle Earth. So much to the point that Legolas had chosen to vanish shortly after the lament had started.

If there was one thing that many would come to know about the Sindarin elf it was that when he became troubled he would often wander. Sometimes he didn't go far, other times he would wander for miles. To Legolas, the miles traveled did not truly matter for he never grew tired from walking. But since he could not leave his company far behind he had settled for putting a simple mile between himself and them on that night. During his exploration through the woods, he'd find himself murmuring a message of farewell. Normally, it was one that the blonde would say when an animal had lost its life. But, for whatever reason, he echoed those words now as he ventured further and further.

"Rest well beyond the silver falls of life, with the rest of your ancestors. May your next life come easier, be happier, and carry less darkness. With this life, you may be done. But in the next, you are only just beginning."

Did it feel right to be bidding Gandalf farewell? No. It did not feel proper. Something in his metaphysical being told the prince that the wizard was not gone for good. But, at the same time, he was uncertain if he should trust himself on that level. To trust the spiritual aspect of things seemed foolish sometimes. For as connected as Legolas could be to the land around him, or things of a more spiritual essence, he still did doubt that intuition at times. Right now something was telling him that Gandalf was not gone. But how could he not be? Legolas had watched him plummet and fall along with the Balrog. It was not to say that he did not harbor hope, or have faith, that Gandalf would return from his battle with the beast; but he had an easier time focusing on the more physical side of things.

Physical. He had to ground himself in a physical manner to calm his mind and wash away the worry. If Gandalf was still out there, as his intuition told him, then he would return in time. But if he were not, then, there was no point questioning the possibility of it. Legolas had to find a way to ground himself and let the fates handle that part. His own part was still currently at play and may be for a long while to come. Such was why he had to find something to settle his mind as he continued to wander through the towering trees of shimmering silver.

Fortunately, it would not take long for his efforts to lead him to a pond settled beneath an opening in the canopy bed overhead. Seemingly, his keen sense of hearing had been leading him toward a source of water without the elf consciously recognizing it. He had the fish splashing around in a far quadrant of the pond to thank for that. If he had been in unprotected lands then he may have scolded himself for getting lost in thought and abandoning most of his senses. But, in the land of Lothlórien, he did not have to worry over who was watching him from a far-off distance.

Upon that thought, Legolas allowed himself to wander freely toward the edge of the water before kneeling down. Out beyond the borders of this land, he would not have let himself get so near to water without his guard up. If only because it was a surefire way to invite an attack upon oneself. Here, however, he was safe to draw near as eyes of cyan blue peered down at the water. His right hand would reach out to gently graze across the top of the crystal clear liquid before him. It had been a while since he had found water so clear and peaceful.

Knowing that water was a source of grounding for himself, he had chosen to venture into it. Before doing so, the elf had removed most of his attire. The only thing left on his body were the pants he had come in. For he was not going to go so far as to reveal every inch of his being to the outside world. But Legolas did not mind stripping his quiver, sword, boots, and the tunic he often wore to free himself.

Only after each item had been removed did Legolas make his way into the water. To do so he must step down off of a ledge. For the body of water appeared to be elven made into the land and not naturally formed. There was no meeting point between water and land at a shoreline. Instead, there were ledges all around the area that one must step down from and freely into the water itself. The first step had been the most unsteady as toes curled into the mud beneath the surface. His palms had taken purchase of the grass along the edge until he could steady his weight along the bottom and find a safe passage to venture deeper by foot alone. He'd continue like so until he was standing waist-deep with water all around himself. Fingers would tread through the crystal clear waters and cause small ripples before himself as he gazed up at the moon. The sensation of peace slowly began to drift over the prince and engulf his mind as he focused on the ebb and flow of the elements surrounding him. Even the fish that had been playing in the water would soon begin to swim around the prince's legs and between his ankles to soothe him further.


Seemingly, enough time had passed since the elf had first ventured off up until now. For as Legolas stood within the water with his head tilted back so the moonlight could glisten across his face and toned abs he could also hear footsteps growing near. "You could have come sooner, you know?" Finally, he chose to speak for the first time since uttering the small message of farewell to Gandalf on his way here. "I would not have cast you away." He added while lowering his head so his chin became even with his shoulders as if to stretch the neck muscles fully. "Nor do I think you would have." Words left the elder silvan elf as he approached the edge of the lake. "But even you need time to mourn, Legolas." If anyone was going to understand that it was going to be Haldir. He was known for carrying emotions within himself and not sharing them. Some labeled him the stoic sort for it. But often times it would seem that he simply did not want to burden others with his own emotions. Such was why he did not follow so closely and make himself known sooner. He could understand why Legolas was wandering off. "I have done my fair share of it already." Words escaped him on a calm breath as he smiled faintly before turning to face the elder elf. "Do not tell me you came here to check on me?" For that did not seem right. Haldir did not often follow for no reason and Legolas knew that. So when the elder had given a simple 'no', Legolas laughed softly and made his way back towards the edge.

"Then why are you here? What makes your mind grow ill?"

It was upon the moment that Legolas reached the edge of the water when Haldir would hold out his hand to the prince to help him up. "You chose to freely give your time to the one who bares the ring. Do you honestly believe this will be the journey to put an end to all of this suffering?" To anyone else, it may have been a question that would have stopped them in their tracts. But, Haldir knew that Legolas was the sort to think every situation over, and over, and over until he had pretty much considered every angle of a situation. While some around him found it to be an annoying trait, there were others like Haldir who valued it. That did not mean, however, that he would answer swiftly. Instead, Legolas chose to take Haldir's hand and climb up out of the lake. The wind that rushed around them drove a chill deep into his bones and made the prince shiver in place while he contemplated how to answer the question. It was only when he released his friend's hand that he would allow a sigh to escape his lips. "I have thought about it..." Legolas would muse while ringing out the ends of his hair to free it of the remaining water droplets that fell to his feet. Did he honestly think this would be the end of it? Did Legolas believe that Frodo would have enough internal strength to carry the ring to Mordor and drop it into the depths of the fire that had created it? No. He in fact did not think the hobbit had it in him; he knew so little about Frodo though that he realized he could also be wrong. After all, so many of the others believed in the boy. If they were willing to put their faith and trust into the hobbit, then Legolas felt he must as well.

Taking the time to pause in his answer again he would shift his gaze to peer up at the moon. "There are only two ways this adventure can go. Either Frodo does have the strength, the courage, and the stamina to get to Mordor and destroy that ring. Or, the third age ends in great peril, and the world as we know it is doomed to exist under the reign of a tyrant for as long as it continues to exist." Even with these words, he knew he had not answered Haldir directly. This was one time, amongst a few times in his life that Legolas wished he could lie and tell Haldir what he wanted to hear. But, they both knew that Legolas did not possess the ability to lie. It was something that had never come easy to him. In fact, he had never told a single lie in his life. "I do not have as much faith in him as I should. His heart seems in the right place. But I have never known a hobbit to possess the quality and stamina needed for such an adventure." Admitting that seemed to weigh heavy on the younger of the two. More so he could tell it seemed to lessen the hope of the one before him as Haldir's shoulders seemed to drop at either side. "Then why have you offered service?" It was a fair question that Legolas again had to ponder. To offer one's service was not done lightly.

"Because--" Legolas would cut himself off to contemplate the question. Did he actually not have an answer so readily available? That was concerning even to the prince himself to the point he frowned. "Sometimes faith can be kindled when one least expects it. Perhaps I am hoping he will spark what little faith I do have. . . and turn it into something brighter. Gandalf would not have given his life if this was not the right path to take. Nor Lord Elrond have called the council." Legolas mused softly while peering down at the ground.

In the time it had taken Legolas to give such an answer, he had felt Haldir pass by him to gather the prince's items from the forest floor. "Then you do have faith." It was not much faith, not as much as the elder had been hoping to hear, but it was a start. Though as Haldir went to speak again he had fallen silent when turning to face the prince. Seemingly something had caught his eye at that very moment. It was not often he had seen Legolas unsheathed like so. In fact, he could not think of the last time he had seen Legolas like this before himself without much clothing. While some may think he had fallen silent due to a moment of unexpected attraction, it was not that at all. In fact, it was far from that.

Centuries ago, when Legolas had been but four hundred years old, an event had transpired. One of the Sindarin elves had chosen to try and assassinate the prince in his sleep. Clearly, the attempt had failed and Legolas was alive. But word had spread like wildfire through the elvish folk of how the young prince had been attacked. It was said that his body had been wounded to the point he had needed extensive surgery. Lord Elrond was believed to have been there during that time despite King Thranduil's disapproval. But while the healing process had been going on, there had been soft murmurs spreading of how he may never be able to use his arms again. Many believed he would never be able to wield a bow again, or tend to himself, or do many other things that gave the elves a sense of purpose and autonomy. It was said the attack had ripped through flesh, tendon, and muscle. For so many years Haldir had questioned the truth of those tails for he had never seen the aftermath present in how Legolas carried himself. The only known fact Haldir possessed in his mind was that it was the first time Legolas had exercised a certain right given to him by birth. The prince had exiled the elf responsible to live as an outcast from his people instead of demanding their head in death; perhaps as a form of mercy. For Legolas could be cruel but he did not want to kill one of his own kind regardless of their own actions. But now, as the elven prince stood before him with his back visible to the world around them, Haldir could see it. He knew the entirety of the stories spoken must now be true.

As orbs of emerald traversed along the prince's back he couldn't help but feel a weight crash down over himself. Every muscle in his body felt like it had begun to ache in that moment. The stories had said the weapon that had landed the blows had been that of a blade crafted by their own kin. But, Haldir found himself questioning the validity of that story now. For the scars that marked Legolas' back looked gnarled and unsightly. They did not look like the wounds capable of coming from an elven blade. Especially not since despite the years that had passed the edges of each visible wound still looked swollen and slightly red in color. Normally an elven blade would've had a clean cut and healed properly over time if tended to with their own medicine. But these, these were half-hazard. They looked as if they belonged to an orc blade, or, perhaps one that had been crafted poorly without a true purpose. He could not fathom they probably did not ache still to this day if touched unexpectedly. But while he wanted to ask so many questions about the event, to find out the truth of that night from the prince himself, he couldn't bring himself to ask any questions. Instead, he pushed himself to move forward and rip his sight from those wounds as he offered the prince his tunic. "Here. Before you get any more cold than what the wind has already caused." With that, he would have walked past the prince and swallowed every other word he wanted to say over what he had just witnessed. Yet, while he wanted to bury the emotions swelling up inside of his chest, it would seem the younger blonde would not allow it. "I have some faith." He would say before following it up. "Also, I am able to carry a bow, and sword, and do many other things. Do not look so weary over old wounds." For Legolas had been able to feel that gaze transfixed on his backside. Only, instead of dwelling on the past, he chose to grin now and walk alongside his brethren as they made their way back to the others. It was during such a walk he would indulge Haldir's mind on the event of his near assassination while dressing to the point he was presentable once back at camp.

11/19/2023 12:45 PM 

Initiation’s over | Lost Boy x SPN sample

 

 
 
 
Initiation's Over

  
 
 
It hadn't been that long since Dean had joined the ranks of the Lost Boys. Go figure, Marko had pulled in another one. He really needed to stop that. He promised David this would be the last one. But there was a reason behind it. A good, solid, reason. Dean was a hunter. Marko hadn't realized that at first when the Winchester had rolled into town. But there had been a night when he had been spying on the guy and noticed his trunk was full of goodies.

That car. A 1967 Chevy Impala. V8 with a 275 ranked horsepower. It was f***ing pretty. Pretty enough to draw the small vampires attention as it had been cruising the streets of Santa Carla one night. It was more so the car than the guy that had drawn his attention at first.

Few knew that Marko had been a mechanic back in his human days. Cars like that easily drew his attention and he always wanted to get close to them. There was something to them that just made the kids blood sing. It made him perk up. Made his energy flare as he'd run towards those cars as if his body were moving with a mind of its own. That impulse had led him to spying on Dean one night, because he wanted to get closer to that damned car. He wanted to pop the hood and look at the beauty under it. To get into the nooks and cranies that people often ignored. The interior, exterior, the frame, everything. He wanted so badly to get closer, so he had gotten as close as he could manage at the time. That was when he realized it. A hunter. 

Naturally, Marko had slunk back into the shadows and tried his best to keep Dean from spotting him that night. He had fled back to his clan, back to Hudson's Bluff, to the safety of their home, no chances would be taken. If only it would've stayed that way with the distance between them. 

That night there had been an argument between all four of the brothers. Marko and Paul against David and Dwayne -- that was usually how it went down for them. Marko had breeched the subject of a hunter being in town. It wasn't about the car anymore. Now it was about the guy. It was about Marko wanting to kill him before Dean killed them. He actually coined it as turning him. But David was against the idea. He had every right to be. But Marko hit him with the 'Max said survive. SURVIVE! If we turn a hunter into a vampire, he could help us to survive against other hunters in the future!' The golden haired vampire had a point and it only caused his leader to snarl. It was sometimes a sign of defeat. A nonverbal way to say that Marko might be right. He knew better than to hold it over David's head but that hadn't stopped a cheshire's grin from streaking across his face. 

That night lead into a flurry of other nights over the coming few weeks as Marko continued to stalk Dean. His time was spent planning, calculating, putting puzzle pieces together. The vampire quickly learned that Dean was in town in order to find something; another monster. He was hunting. Doing the thing his kind was known for. It almost shocked Marko to find that the hunter was after a demon with yellow eyes. He had never heard of such a thing. . .he didn't care. 

All of that led up to the night that Marko and his brothers chose to go to a bar. The night when Marko finally placed his whiskey glass down on the cold hard mahogany and glanced at the bar tender. "Whiskey on the rocks." His request was handled in lesiure as the bartender attended to not only him, but the Winchester who constantly held his attention. 

"New in town?" It was a light question to break the ice as Marko toyed with his glass on the counter. Seemingly it had been rejected as the bartender chose to get him a new one. His question had made the male next to him pause. For a brief moment the kid almost didn't expect to get a reply. But it came in the form of a short 'yeah' while Dean drank from his own glass. Shoulders perking up slightly, Marko glanced to the side. "That your car out there? 1967 Chevy? I haven't seen it before." He was playing a card he didn't often play when he wanted information. It was the card of an almost completely innocent kid. "She's mine." "She's pretty." He'd reply quickly as his glass hit the counter top. "My dad used to have one. We used to take a lot of family trips in it! Beach, woods for camping, grand canyon, across country. But he vanished a few years back. I don't remember what took him out. It was a black whisp of smoke that shot through our house. . .and then he was gone." Again he was fiddling with his glass while looking down at the bar counter. By that point Marko had taken a seat on a bar stool and let his shoulders slouch; giving some body language into the fabricated lie he was spinning. "I know it sounds crazy but ---- " "Black smoke? Was it in this town?" Dean had cut him off before he could even finish his sentence. A small glint rippled through his eyes as Marko did his best to hide a smile. "Yeah. . . couple blocks from here in the suburbs." 

Hook. Line. Sinker. 

"He's mine." The thought would project itself across the bar to his clan leader. David had been watching them from a distance and rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to a little brunette that had latched herself to his arm all too tightly. "So do it already."  Was all Marko got back into his own mind. But he couldn't. Not that quickly. He had to be careful about this or he'd end up dead. 

From that point on into the later hours of the night, Marko and Dean had launched into a conversation over what Marko remembered about this thing that took his dad. If he wasn't so good at lying, he would've slipped up by that point and been figured out; but he wasn't bad at it. Apart of being a Lost Boy was knowing how to work people, how to manipulate them, how to get what you wanted. Marko had decades of experience under his belt. . . and the whiskey they were both drinking helped to. It helped when Marko had to take a pause, along with a sip of his drink, to recollect his thoughts. 

That simple talk had rolled over an hour or so later and taken a drastic turn. When Dean had figured out he'd been lying, he wasn't sure. By that point all Marko knew was that his body ached, there was blood gushing down both of their faces, and Marko was being thrown into a brick wall in the back ally now. It was a scuffle, a heavy hitting, all out, fight. It was the one major fight in his life where he realized that his smaller size wasn't going to play out in his favor. Even as he screamed out into the night and hissed when Dean picked him up and slammed him down onto the ground. "I'M GOING TO F***ING KILL YOU! I SWEAR TO MAXIMUS!" Maximus, Maxamillion, Maxwell; all variations of his father's name.  He screamed it to high heavens as their fight continued. Each of them circling one another after he was up again and wiping the blood from his mouth.

Pivot here, a pivot there, a punch, a kick, Marko's teeth chomping down and claws ripping into leather. Screams decorated the air as their blood covered the ground. Each of them circled the other like a wolf trying to land a kill.

Usually fighting humans was easy. But his pray usually wasn't skilled like this. Dean was different. Dean was difficult. He was talented, trained in the art of hunting and killing exactly what his opponent was. Marko was at a loss. It was obvious in how he was fighting. In how uncalculated his attacks were. His brothers knew him as a savage killer. But Dean was able to deflect almost all of his moves and yet not every single one.

This fight wasn't fun for him. He was tired of it. It was a bite to the neck that finally took the hunter down as his fangs targeted the main artery and clamped down; blood gushing into his mouth as the predator let out a frustrated snarl and almost shook his head like a rabid beast that had had enough. "DIE ALREADY!"  Projecting thoughts outwards he tried to force the words into the hunters head as crimson hemoglobin coursed down the back of his own throat as he drank enough until Dean would slip under. Only then did he pull his fangs out.

When Marko had made the transference of a blood exchange was unknown. Knowing his impulsive nature he had more than likely sliced his own palm open and squeezed enough blood into Dean's mouth to make him shift into a half vampire. 

By the time Dean had woken up again, the boys were back at the cave. Marko had enjoyed driving the impala and was gushing about it to his brothers while jumping up and down on the couch when Dean had decided to join them. 

"I feel like I got ran over by a bus. Where the hell am I?" 

"Look who's up! Rise n shine! Welcome to the land of the undead." 

"The undead?" 

"YEAH! Don't worry man. In this town, you're considered a prince now. Oh yeah, the cars outside!" 


 

11/19/2023 12:43 PM 

Comfortably Numb | Lost boys sample

 

 
 
 
Comfortably Numb

  
Hello? Hello? Hello?
Is there anybody in there ?
Just nod if you can hear me
Is there anyone at home? 
Come on now
I hear your feeling down
Smoke filtered out betwixt the vampires lips as Pink Floyd floated out into the spacious opening of the hotel lobby from his brothers vinyl record player. Marko's limp body laid sprawled out across one of the sofas off to the right of the fountain while eyes rested in a perfectly closed state; lashes fanning out to adorn his cheeks as he mouthed the words. 

In that moment, everything seemed perfectly fine. He was just relaxing, listening to music, getting high by himself;  but it wasn't really so. As the vampire laid out and relaxed like a feline in a spaced out haze, there was actually someone else in the hotel with him making themselves known as they continued to whimper and whine in the background now. A while ago he had chose to ignore the person he had dragged home. Perhaps he was waiting for his family, perhaps he was waiting for the mood to strike himself or maybe it was even something else. There was an internal storm raging on in his head that he was trying to work his way through in the moment at hand. It was unlikely he'd be able to let it all slip by without some blood shed though -- that just wasn't him. Not when it came to what was on his mind in the first place. A fight had transpired and he needed some release. Truthfully, he wanted to rip someone to shreds. But he'd probably just end up feeding instead. 

As the music continued to play, he brought the joint to his lips and took in another deep drag. Letting the smoke escape him in shapes and circles, he'd soon sit up in a lackadaisical manner to swing one foot down onto the ground.  "Well I can ease your pain."  Words escaped him in time to the song as he stood and walked across the lobby to where the person lay. Leaning down over them, a hand slid into his pocket while the other rose to his mouth. Despite the joint between his lips, he also nipped at part of his opposing glove and purred while looking them over. "Get you on your feet again."  In time to words of the song and his own singing, he had reached down to grip the males arm while flicking the joint away so it could fizzle out on its own.

At first there was a slight jerk in resistance, he couldn't blame the human. Marko had tied his hands behind his back and blinded him before dragging him home from an ocean side party. There had been soft murmurs of a good time but hours ago, despite some onlookers screaming out 'fags', 'freaks, 'fairies', and other derogatory terms. Marko had made a mental note of each who had called him such; he'd hunt them on another night. In those moments he had been focused on the one in his clutches before dragging him back to his lair, and then he had dumped him like a used up toy on the floor of his home.

To be fair, the human had been sleeping after Marko had gotten him pretty high on the sandy beaches of California; that was before the tying and blinding parts came in as their onlookers had dispursed after growing bored of their own disapproval. But then he woke up somewhere else and must've clearly been confused due to the utter darkness and restraints Marko had provided him with; hints the whimpering and hesitation now as he flinched against the vampires hold. Wasn't Marko's fault he had dumped him on the floor to wait for him to wake up after dragging him back on his dirtbike . 

"Relax." Continuing in time with the song he took a firmer hold of the males right bicep and pulled him harshly into his own chest. Gaining a chesires grin, his feet started to move in time with the males as Marko manuevered him into a slow dance while untying the guys hands. "I'll need some information first. Just the basic facts, can you show me where it hurts?" Whispering the words on a lower breath he reached up to pull the blindfold from the ravennette's eyes. Piercing green hues met Marko's aquatic and overly innocent gaze as he offered a sheepish smile now as if this were a game -- it was all planned to be played. 

Not wanting the song to be interrupted he had lowered the bandana from the taller males eyes to around his mouth. Gagging him instead to keep him silent as he forced him into the dance and leaned up, placing a chaste kiss against the bandana over his mouth. His actions though alarming only seemed to ease the male when Marko's eyes began to flare as he bit the bandana while seemingly flirting as their bodies moved in time to the tempo; almost grinding. Perhaps it wasn't so much the flirting easing the other as it was that Marko's eyes shifting and erupting outwards into a near starburst formation also meant he might be using his powers to lull the larger male into a state of calmed hyponsis. 

 
There is no pain you are receding.
A distant ship smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.

 
Song continuing on for what felt like ages, Marko had eventually untied the other males mouth finally to let him speak. But it seemed the male, whom's name he had come to learn as Leon sometime earlier didn't have much to say. Leon chose to go with the motions, be it due to the hyponisis or his own will like hours before as the two moved. Neither cared enough to question it as the dance grew on.

With every step, Marko could hear the others heart starting to beat louder. The thrum calling to him as he continued to gaze up at him. Somewhere in the mix of the dance he had let his eyes shift back to normal and led Leon to believe it was just an effect from the high Marko had provided him with back on the beach. That the drugs were still in his system making him see things. If only the fool realized that Marko was only working him up to be fed on. But he'd never catch on. Even as Marko pressed him up to one of the walls of the hotel. Finger tips just lightly grazing under the hem of the larger males shirt as a chuckle elicited itself from the monsters lips. Even as he leaned in and let his tongue trail along the main artery of his neck; drawing out a moan from the human while Marko's hands took a firm hold of his hips. A knee sliding itself between the mortals thighs to coax him to grind against it. 

In his mind he was thrilled with the responses the human was giving him. Marko was even more enthralled by the way Leon's heart started to skip in time to every little thing he did to him. While he had hypnotized him to calm down, he hadn't hypnotized him to respond this way, or to even wander down a more intimate path with the golden haired beast. It was making his heart fill the predator's ears with pure music as a growl escaped from his maw to radiate against Leon's throat. 

In time the teasing started to hit a wall as the vampires jaw started to ache, fangs begged to be released as fingers took a tighter hold of skin beneath their touch. 
Eventually he could no longer fight the need to feed as his fangs descended. The contours of his face became rigid and hard with the more primal aesthetic of his species before the vein he had been teasing was suddenly struck. Leon's moaning turned into a guttural cry under the sudden pain and pressure of daggers ripping into his neck.

Even as he tried to beat the vampire off, Marko only pushed him back harder against the wall and kept him pinned while draining him dry. When Leon started to become too weak he let the mortal slide down the hard surface to hit the floor. It forced the predator himself to kneel as he finally let his fangs slip free; tongue lapping the last few droplets of crimson nectar away. With the last drop of life escaping his victims neck he felt the anger leaving him as a shudder rolled through him. The record on Paul's vinyl player skipping on repeat now like a broken record over the next several lines of the song.

 
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
When I was a child I had a fever.
Now I've got that feeling once again.
I can't explain you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.

 
Fitting. A broken record, a broken mortal, and the last line that played on repeat seemed to resonate with the smallest vampire of the Santa Carla clan on that night. Marko did indeed feel comfortably numb as he fell back on the dirty hotel floor and wiped blood up from his chin, only for fingers to dip between his own lips as he licked them clean while watching the now slumped over human.   

"Night night, Leon."
 
 
 

 

11/19/2023 12:43 PM 

Comfortably Numb | Lost boys sample

 

 
 
 
Comfortably Numb

  
Hello? Hello? Hello?
Is there anybody in there ?
Just nod if you can hear me
Is there anyone at home? 
Come on now
I hear your feeling down
Smoke filtered out betwixt the vampires lips as Pink Floyd floated out into the spacious opening of the hotel lobby from his brothers vinyl record player. Marko's limp body laid sprawled out across one of the sofas off to the right of the fountain while eyes rested in a perfectly closed state; lashes fanning out to adorn his cheeks as he mouthed the words. 

In that moment, everything seemed perfectly fine. He was just relaxing, listening to music, getting high by himself;  but it wasn't really so. As the vampire laid out and relaxed like a feline in a spaced out haze, there was actually someone else in the hotel with him making themselves known as they continued to whimper and whine in the background now. A while ago he had chose to ignore the person he had dragged home. Perhaps he was waiting for his family, perhaps he was waiting for the mood to strike himself or maybe it was even something else. There was an internal storm raging on in his head that he was trying to work his way through in the moment at hand. It was unlikely he'd be able to let it all slip by without some blood shed though -- that just wasn't him. Not when it came to what was on his mind in the first place. A fight had transpired and he needed some release. Truthfully, he wanted to rip someone to shreds. But he'd probably just end up feeding instead. 

As the music continued to play, he brought the joint to his lips and took in another deep drag. Letting the smoke escape him in shapes and circles, he'd soon sit up in a lackadaisical manner to swing one foot down onto the ground.  "Well I can ease your pain."  Words escaped him in time to the song as he stood and walked across the lobby to where the person lay. Leaning down over them, a hand slid into his pocket while the other rose to his mouth. Despite the joint between his lips, he also nipped at part of his opposing glove and purred while looking them over. "Get you on your feet again."  In time to words of the song and his own singing, he had reached down to grip the males arm while flicking the joint away so it could fizzle out on its own.

At first there was a slight jerk in resistance, he couldn't blame the human. Marko had tied his hands behind his back and blinded him before dragging him home from an ocean side party. There had been soft murmurs of a good time but hours ago, despite some onlookers screaming out 'fags', 'freaks, 'fairies', and other derogatory terms. Marko had made a mental note of each who had called him such; he'd hunt them on another night. In those moments he had been focused on the one in his clutches before dragging him back to his lair, and then he had dumped him like a used up toy on the floor of his home.

To be fair, the human had been sleeping after Marko had gotten him pretty high on the sandy beaches of California; that was before the tying and blinding parts came in as their onlookers had dispursed after growing bored of their own disapproval. But then he woke up somewhere else and must've clearly been confused due to the utter darkness and restraints Marko had provided him with; hints the whimpering and hesitation now as he flinched against the vampires hold. Wasn't Marko's fault he had dumped him on the floor to wait for him to wake up after dragging him back on his dirtbike . 

"Relax." Continuing in time with the song he took a firmer hold of the males right bicep and pulled him harshly into his own chest. Gaining a chesires grin, his feet started to move in time with the males as Marko manuevered him into a slow dance while untying the guys hands. "I'll need some information first. Just the basic facts, can you show me where it hurts?" Whispering the words on a lower breath he reached up to pull the blindfold from the ravennette's eyes. Piercing green hues met Marko's aquatic and overly innocent gaze as he offered a sheepish smile now as if this were a game -- it was all planned to be played. 

Not wanting the song to be interrupted he had lowered the bandana from the taller males eyes to around his mouth. Gagging him instead to keep him silent as he forced him into the dance and leaned up, placing a chaste kiss against the bandana over his mouth. His actions though alarming only seemed to ease the male when Marko's eyes began to flare as he bit the bandana while seemingly flirting as their bodies moved in time to the tempo; almost grinding. Perhaps it wasn't so much the flirting easing the other as it was that Marko's eyes shifting and erupting outwards into a near starburst formation also meant he might be using his powers to lull the larger male into a state of calmed hyponsis. 

 
There is no pain you are receding.
A distant ship smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.

 
Song continuing on for what felt like ages, Marko had eventually untied the other males mouth finally to let him speak. But it seemed the male, whom's name he had come to learn as Leon sometime earlier didn't have much to say. Leon chose to go with the motions, be it due to the hyponisis or his own will like hours before as the two moved. Neither cared enough to question it as the dance grew on.

With every step, Marko could hear the others heart starting to beat louder. The thrum calling to him as he continued to gaze up at him. Somewhere in the mix of the dance he had let his eyes shift back to normal and led Leon to believe it was just an effect from the high Marko had provided him with back on the beach. That the drugs were still in his system making him see things. If only the fool realized that Marko was only working him up to be fed on. But he'd never catch on. Even as Marko pressed him up to one of the walls of the hotel. Finger tips just lightly grazing under the hem of the larger males shirt as a chuckle elicited itself from the monsters lips. Even as he leaned in and let his tongue trail along the main artery of his neck; drawing out a moan from the human while Marko's hands took a firm hold of his hips. A knee sliding itself between the mortals thighs to coax him to grind against it. 

In his mind he was thrilled with the responses the human was giving him. Marko was even more enthralled by the way Leon's heart started to skip in time to every little thing he did to him. While he had hypnotized him to calm down, he hadn't hypnotized him to respond this way, or to even wander down a more intimate path with the golden haired beast. It was making his heart fill the predator's ears with pure music as a growl escaped from his maw to radiate against Leon's throat. 

In time the teasing started to hit a wall as the vampires jaw started to ache, fangs begged to be released as fingers took a tighter hold of skin beneath their touch. 
Eventually he could no longer fight the need to feed as his fangs descended. The contours of his face became rigid and hard with the more primal aesthetic of his species before the vein he had been teasing was suddenly struck. Leon's moaning turned into a guttural cry under the sudden pain and pressure of daggers ripping into his neck.

Even as he tried to beat the vampire off, Marko only pushed him back harder against the wall and kept him pinned while draining him dry. When Leon started to become too weak he let the mortal slide down the hard surface to hit the floor. It forced the predator himself to kneel as he finally let his fangs slip free; tongue lapping the last few droplets of crimson nectar away. With the last drop of life escaping his victims neck he felt the anger leaving him as a shudder rolled through him. The record on Paul's vinyl player skipping on repeat now like a broken record over the next several lines of the song.

 
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
When I was a child I had a fever.
Now I've got that feeling once again.
I can't explain you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.

 
Fitting. A broken record, a broken mortal, and the last line that played on repeat seemed to resonate with the smallest vampire of the Santa Carla clan on that night. Marko did indeed feel comfortably numb as he fell back on the dirty hotel floor and wiped blood up from his chin, only for fingers to dip between his own lips as he licked them clean while watching the now slumped over human.   

"Night night, Leon."
 
 
 

 

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