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[damnpire]

voice / text / communion

D's mind is a cacophony of things.

The landscape is shadow and darkness, and it is chilly and reserved where D sits in it; he feels like a simple young man. Quiet, soft, human. But behind the stoicism is a warm, sensual, and elegant sliver of something primordial and powerful. Embracing it is hypnotic, arousing, yet also a little horrifying.

Amidst all of this is something else, too: a craggled and old presence which can be heard on occasion cackling or chattering separately, the crusty voice belonging neither to D or the peculiar entity in the space.

Comments

[damnpire]

[BOTH. It was both. He had been concerned about BOTH. Not every vampire can have his stupid ero bite, however, so he is stupid.

Mentally, D is very quick to "look away" from the teasing in a hilariously polite and surprisingly shy manner. The sensual bite is extremely embarrassing in the way of a formal man clinging desperately to some kind of etiquette.

Very Liem Talbott of him really.]

You should leave him be.

[semicharmed]

[ Matt zeroes right in on that shy, sudden shift in attention, like an affectionate shark who scents blood in the water. His mood dims at D's words, and he replies-- ]

Yeah.

I know.

[ --but he can't help flitting back to that sense of D's discomfort. It feels a little easier to address than the question of exactly how he'll disentangle himself from Silco. How he might be able to make the disentangling stick. ]

It's okay, you know, [ he adds. Amused, but gentle about it. ] I mean--you know what I'm like. I'd be the last person to judge you for how getting bit feels.

[damnpire]

[The shy embarrassment doesn't grow, but it doesn't fade away either. D stews in it, embarrassed maybe because Matt can sense it here without him being able to conceal it more than anything.]

It isn't something that should be imposed on others. It's... false. An illusion.

[Matt is undoubtedly interested in him, but generally... the feelings this act imposes on other people is fraudulent.]

People should feel those things on their own, not because a vampire is biting them.

[semicharmed]

What is "real," though? [ Even thinking the words, Matt can't help a carbonated sparkle of mental laughter. Associations follow: smoke blown through parted lips, the heavy smell of weed. Globules in a lava lamp. ] I mean, I think I get what you're saying, in the sense that ... the sensations are coming externally, or through a process we think of as ... extrinsic, to how people normally arrive at those feelings.

[ Despite the fact that he finds D's awkwardness pretty cute, frankly, Matt's trying to be delicate. ]

But it doesn't mean they're invalid, or illusory. I respect that that's your experience, just, for me ...

Especially not with consent. It wasn't an imposition.

[damnpire]

[D sort of mentally wrinkles his nose, and it's hard to say if it's from the tease of the association, or the fact he can recall the exact scent from his memory, stronger to him because his sense of smell is horrendously powerful.]

The feelings are there as they are in everyone, but Frontier vampires twist them and use them for their own purpose, putting them where they wouldn't otherwise be, in most cases. So that their prey won't resist.

Most people would feel as you did with Silco. That is what the sensation tries to conceal.

[semicharmed]

[ Matt frowns. He feels some resistance to the idea that D and Silco might be alike in any respect, but it takes a moment for the words to form. ]

Pain is ... interesting, for me. [ Carefully. ] Not good, exactly. But it's not the worst thing.

[ Another pause. ]

The part that was bad about what he did is that I couldn't stop him. He didn't ask me. [ There's almost an echo to this, bouncing down and down the hallway of Matt's memory. ] If he'd asked me I might've said yes. Even knowing how bad the pain was gonna be.