Roleplay City
Infusco => INFUSCO: Enter The Shadows => Penbrook Church & Estate => Topic started by: pinkroses on June 16, 2019, 09:46:24 PM
-
Continued from Hot Tip (http://www.roleplaycity.com/forum/index.php?topic=7361.msg91527;topicseen#msg91527)
It didn’t take long before they pulled up at Penbrook. Murphy had spent most of it staring blankly out the window, not really seeing where they were going. He could have been appreciating the new detail he could see; if he’d opened the window all of the new scents would have been a good distraction. But he just sat quietly, lost in his own thoughts, fiddling with the clasp on his bag.
He was running over what he thought Ben would think, what he’d say. Maybe he’d feel guilty because he hadn’t sired Murphy like he’d agreed, but Murphy hoped not. That was mainly for selfish reasons – with what he’d just been through he didn’t want to feel Ben’s guilt on top of that.
And Jake… would he smell like Lazarus now? Would Jake look at him and see the blonde who had tormented him? Their relationship was still so new, Murphy had a bad feeling it wouldn’t last this, but maybe it could.
He didn’t noticed the car had stopped until the door was opened and Murphy blinked in surprise, glancing across to see Jeanne was already out of the car. He slid out, giving the driver a small smile and a word of thanks before he followed Jeanne’s lead to head up the stairs, following any instructions she gave. His hunger was growing again in a frustrating manner, but he tried to ignore that, knowing there would be nourishment inside.
-
The door opened as they approached and they were greeted in the foyer of the Estate by one of the house staff bearing a tray. It held a wine glass and two very large steel travel mugs, the thermos kind designed to hold coffee. All of the beverage containers held warm blood. Jeanne had texted the house in time to have the blood heated and ready for their arrival, though she didn't think Murphy, lost in his thoughts, had noticed.
By now, she was feeling quite fatigued and knew Murphy's hunger would be unrelenting. She took the two mugs and held them out towards the youngling with a smile. "Both are for you," she murmured. "It's quicker and easier than donors and will allow you to drink and speak freely. Try to savour them," she advised, aware that he would likely gulp the first and nurse the second - that's why there were two, after all - but curious about his self control.
Once he took his containers, she lifted the wine glass off the tray, pausing long enough to take a deep, restorative swallow for herself. Her eyes fell closed as the warm, rich liquid ran down her throat, rejuvenating her from within. Opening her eyes, she inclined her head at the staff member with the tray. "My thanks, I deeply appreciate your promptness," she told the man, who dipped his head in return and left.
As Jeanne turned to face Murphy, she sought her grand-sire mentally, able to tell from where she met his mind where in the house he was - but that was no indication of where he'd wish to meet.
I have a surprise visitor; a visitor with a surprise. Murphy is here. Where would you like to receive him? she queried playfully, even as she spoke to Murphy.
"Please. Come with me," she bade, walking beside the youngling as she led him in the direction Charon dictated.
-
Murphy’s tense shoulders relaxed a touch once they were inside and the scent of blood hit him. Warm blood, but without the stress of having to drink from another human right now.
“Thank you,” he said as Jeanne passed him both mugs, and giving a small, distracted smile to the man who had been waiting for them to include him in the thanks, whilst his mind went to the contents of the mugs.
He was about to down the first one, but her advice to savour them made him hesitate. Murphy waited half a second before drinking from the one in his left hand. A large part of him wanted to chug it like a student at a frat party, but he forced himself to go more slowly. It was so difficult, but he could feel her eyes on him and after Jeanne had come to his rescue Murphy wanted to do anything he could to please her right now. He settled on large mouthfuls, but with pauses to lower the mug in between, making sure he drank tidy and didn’t waste a drop. Before long, the mug was empty, and as though summoned from nowhere, a member of staff appeared to take it from him, avoiding Murphy the awkwardness of needing to carry two mugs.
“That’s definitely less stressful,” Murphy said, glancing towards Jeanne with a small smile. He was still nervous and scared of everything that was to come, how his life had changed, but he was back in familiar territory with people he trusted, who were experienced enough to know what to do and guide him. His initial instinct was to be positive and whilst it was tricky, he’d had a lifetime of practise at it.
-
Charon had bid Jeanne to take Murphy to the Autumnal drawing room, for they had two drawing rooms, but he considered Murphy would want to feel comfortable and that room tended to evoke feelings of warmth and comfort.
The Autumnal drawing room had a fireplace and no windows - smoke escaped up the chimney for it had nowhere else to go. The crackle of the fire blasted heat into a room decorated just as warmly, with rich reds, golds and browns. The room was central within the house and the only light came from the fireplace and a few strategically lit table-lamps around the large room. The furniture here was heavy and stately, the wooden coffee and end tables stained a very darker brown to better enhance the golden and red leathers of the armchairs and three seater sofas, creating an open-sided square with the fireplace as its central focus.
If Jeanne thought Charon would be surprised by Murphy's state upon seeing him, she was wrong. He knew what Murphy was the instant the two of them crossed the threshhold into the property, coming up the driveway. He didn't know who Murphy's sire was until he sought out with his mind when sending grandchild to the drawing room with the newly-created fledge - but as soon as he brushed against Murphy's mind, he knew. Really, he shouldn't, because he'd never had a chance to savour the blonde's mind... but Murphy was a powerful fledge - he could sense this much - and only an ancient could create such a thing, and only one ancient would care enough about Murphy to.
Vengeance. Such a petty, useless move. Still, it made Murphy's presence a fascinating one and he was glad the journalist had come to them seeking help. They were in a position to offer it without judgement.
Charon took his time moving to the drawing room, wanting Jeanne and Murphy to enter it and get comfortable first. Murphy would be familiar with this room - though Charon didn't know how much time the mortal had spent in it. It would look, feel and smell different to his supernatural eyes.
When he arrived through the door, the first thing he noticed were those supernatural eyes - golden and quite lovely. They were shining coins that shifted in his direction as he entered. Charon almost wanted to congratulate him on his siring and had to stop himself, for he'd deduced the experience would've been harrowing. Jeanne had gone on a rescue mission (though he wasn't sure what exactly had occurred), and he didn't know if she'd chased off Lazarus or if the blonde ancient had already moved on.
He only had eyes for Murphy, though. His first words shouldn't be spoken, he felt.
I am pleased you came to us. You have a home, here.
-
Murphy knew the room they ended up in, but it looked different now, brighter, more vibrant colours and the sound of the fire was extraordinary, with logs popping and the flames crackling. He hadn’t been able to enjoy the changes on the journey over here – but now he was safe, fed (with another mug in his hands) and despite his worries, physically he was feeling pretty good.
In the time it took Charon to join them Murphy had managed to do a lap of the room, examining things he hadn’t seen before, before taking a seat near Jeanne, perching on the edge of a sofa. He wanted to put down the mug, but as he moved to he got that urge again and he cradled it close to take another mouthful.
As soon as Charon entered, Murphy stood up respectfully, meeting the ancient’s gaze. The lack of surprise in his face didn’t shock him – he still assumed Jeanne had told him on the way and Charon often seemed to know things that he’d have no real way of knowing, but he would have found out.
At Charon’s words in his mind Murphy felt tears prick behind his eyes. He didn’t realise how worried he’d been that Charon might decide to turn him away because of his sire.
Thank you. I know we talked about it, but I didn’t tell Lazarus I was thinking about being sired, he just did it, I couldn’t stop him, Murphy responded mentally with a desperate hint to his comments. He hoped Charon wouldn’t have thought he would be so mercenary as to just go to any vampire who might have considered it – Lazarus would have been at the very bottom of the list if Murphy had been inclined to do that. He’d felt like he should match Charon’s method of communication, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to. Murphy glanced between the two family members, ready to speak the same words outloud if they hadn’t got through.
“Jeanne was magnificent,” he added, gesturing to her and trying to give her a smile despite his concern over what Charon thought of him. If she hadn’t picked up that phone there would probably be a few bodies in that motel and Murphy would still be there.
-
Jeanne sat in one of the sofas gathered around the fire, her left elbow on the arm of the chair, fingers ruminatively stroking the leather as she gazed into the fire. She let Murphy prowl about the room as he would, grateful for a moment to just be, drinking her blood, her legs crossed elegantly. Taking stock of the situation caused an unexpected pang within her. Acting as Murphy's sire-by-proxy made her nostalgic for her years with Leo... and summoned bitterness and anxiety when she thought of Taylor.
She was contemplating the unwelcome taint of her feelings when the buzz of mental communication drew her attention to Charon's presence, and her gaze away from the fire. She gave her grand-sire a half-smile of acknowledgement then blinked at Murphy's statements regarding Lazarus. He had no idea how to modulate his mental voice and he was trying hard to be heard, so he was. Clearly. When she was complimented, she made a noise of humility along the lines of, "Pish!" but raised her glass to the newling sitting by her and smiled her thanks at him.
Her actions were no less than Charon would've expected and therefore not worth discussing.
-
Charon was surprised by Murphy's immediate denial of having asked Lazarus to sire him. Of course he wouldn't have. Charon was mildly incensed that Murphy even entertained the idea, that Charon would think he was pimping himself out to whoever was available. He would've believed it of Ben, whose ambition sometimes blinded his common sense, but not Murphy, who would think about a scenario from all angles. His occupation helped that along.
No, I anticipated that you didn't. He glanced at Jeanne and nodded; she was right in her assumption that he would expect no less. His gaze fell on the stein that Murphy seemed loathe to put down. You will have to deal with a constant itch, now. One that you can't spend all night scratching. Your willpower will be tested every time you drink, so I will assign someone to be with you each time you feed. Perhaps Hugh or Royce. Being made from old blood means you won't experience the craving as badly as other fledges, but... you will have nothing to compare it to.
When Charon spoke of Hugh, a brief image of his face entered Murphy's mind. Murphy had met Hugh a few times though hadn't spent a lot of time with him. Royce, he wouldn't have met at all, and the face that flashed up when Charon said his name was that of a stranger's.
-
Murphy nodded in relief as Charon confirmed he didn’t need convincing that Murphy hadn’t gone to Lazarus. He wasn’t sure why he’d suddenly been worried about it, but the last time he’d been here that had been what they’d been discussing so seeing Charon again had brought it to mind.
He listened quietly as Charon explained what would happen with his feeding, a bit surprised by the faces appearing in his mind, but trying to commit them to memory, despite not recognising the second one. Hugh he knew though, so that was reassuring.
He frowned slightly as Charon mentioned ‘old blood’ and tilted his head to one side curiously.
That… makes a difference? Him being an ancient? Is that why I could control Andy a bit? I didn’t think I’d be able to do that, he said, glancing towards Jeanne questioningly. She’d been so confident in his abilities but hadn’t said why.
-
Right now you're doing something fledges need practise with; you're projecting your conversation into my mind. You would not feel the difference, I suppose, but I do. I do not have to scan, to work for your side of the conversation. It comes to me. I assume Andy was your first feeding? Charon's gaze flicked to Jeanne even though he didn't need confirmation from her - he could feel the positive response emanating from Murphy already so he reconnected his gaze to Murphy's golden eyes. Yes, it would be why. I would not have believed it possible, if I heard this story from another source. A fledgling not a day old able to control their thirst enough to express their will over a mortal? You've always been a man with high self-control. I would guess that is assisting you as well as your sire's age.
Charon hesitated for a brief moment before pressing on with a question he knew Murphy wouldn't like.
When will you inform Ben that this has happened? And Jake?
Murphy didn't have to tell anybody he didn't want to, but Charon assumed that Murphy would want to stay here in this city - potentially at Penbrook. Ben would visit, though irregularly. They might see each other even if Murphy wished to keep it a secret.
-
Murphy couldn’t help but smile as Charon explained how his mental skills were already beyond what they would have expected. Yes, he would never have picked Lazarus, but at least there was one small sliver of good to come out of the blonde turning him. And Charon mentioning it could be assisted by his personality, not just the blood in his veins, helped him feel better about it.
His smile disappeared at Charon’s question though and he glanced down at the mug of blood in his hands.
I can’t keep it secret from them. But I can’t see them just yet. He did this to get at them and I know they’ll both take it… badly. He turned the mug slowly in his hands. Lazarus took my keys, Ben has the spares, he added, biting on his lower lip. He had the main things he needed in his bag and his apartment would need work before it would be suitable for a vampire to stay the day, but just simple things like clothes, post, then silly things, like the book he’d been reading flickered through his mind. Nothing urgent. It would definitely be easier to stay here for now – especially with needing Hugh or Royce there whenever he fed.
He imagined Ben beating himself up over this, blaming himself, and he had plenty on his mind already. Ben might feel like he should try to take care of Murphy himself, but Murphy didn’t want to be that burden on his friend.
And Jake? He would get angry, he’d want to go after Lazarus, or he would crumble. God, Jake hadn’t even wanted to go back into the bedroom where Lazarus had attacked him, being able to feel the blonde in the blood of his lover…
Murphy felt a swell of guilt and distracted himself by draining his mug before laying it down on a side-table. They’d probably both be offended he hadn’t gone to them for help initially as well.
I need to get my head around it all first, before I try to explain it to them. A few days, maybe a week? Perhaps he was being optimistic. He was supposed to be seeing Jake tonight, just about now in fact.
I needed calm tonight, I need calm, they won’t be calm.
-
Jake had just finished his meeting with Damien, and was looking forward to seeing Murphy. Truly, he couldn't do much of anything without wondering what Murphy's opinion would be these days. Jake had also decided that he wanted them to move beyond just seeing each other at the White Rabbit, and official things like the Academy opening. He decided a proper date was needed, and that he would plan to take Murphy all around town if the human let him. His mind began swimming with options, and his enthusiasm over future nights together made him feel the need to reach out to Murphy now. He reached for his phone and fired off a text.
On your way? Want me to have some food or drinks for you?
Send.
It was a simple message, and with that Jake went back to planning a future date, even though he was happy he'd be seeing Murphy in just a few minutes.
-
Charon agreed with Murphy's estimation that both young vampires in Murphy's social circle would take the news badly. Charon was impressed by Murphy's ability to reason even after a traumatic siring (he still didn't have details but being sired without one's permission was bound to be traumatic).
Immediately after the statement was made by Murphy that he wanted to wait and be surrounded by calm as he processed what had happened to him and what he wanted from it - a notably good idea - the journalist's phone chirped a message, as though whoever texted him had sensed he'd wanted to be left alone, separated from the world in this pocket of safety.
Don't look at the text, just give me your phone.
Murphy had been in the process of pulling it out and was obviously surprised by Charon's command. His brief hesitation prompted another instruction. Murphy would find it hard to stay calm with the world coming at him. As he'd just said, he needed separation and distance.
If you really want to be calm, let me make appropriate excuses on your behalf. I will ensure you keep your job, your place to live, and that your friends and family will wait for you without concern.
-
Murphy’s eyes widened with panic as his phone beeped and he glanced at his watch to check the time before bending down to pull him phone from his bag with an apologetic look towards Charon, not wanting to be rude, but knowing it would be Jake. Hell, what was he supposed to tell Jake to give himself that time he needed?
He hand was still in his bag, seeking the phone as Charon told him to hand it over and his hand stilled. He was surprised by Charon’s suggestion…
command?
…but as Charon went on, it made sense. If he had it then it would be so tempting to tell them what had happened, even if right now he knew it was a terrible idea. A part of him knew the longer he put it off, the more upset they would be that he had kept it from them, but, to be honest, they were the reason this had happened, so they could wait.
He pulled his phone from his bag, keeping the screen faced down and he rested it on his knee for a moment. In the spur of the moment Murphy had chosen to call Jeanne, not Ben, not Jake. This felt like his last chance to make a decision on who would train him. Obviously it wasn’t forever, this wasn’t never seeing Jake and Ben again, but it was definitely picking the Sacramentum over them. That hadn’t been his original decision when he was human, but Murphy could see it was now and he stood up to pass the phone over to Charon’s waiting hand.
Thank you. No family to worry about at least, he said mentally, before running a hand over his eyes, suddenly tired. It hadn’t felt like much effort to communicate mentally with Charon, but it suddenly felt like it was catching up with him. Maybe the relief of knowing he wouldn’t need to deal with Jake and Ben right now gave him the chance to let it catch up with him. He didn’t know what Charon would tell them, but he did trust the ancient.
The thought of family took his mind back to Lazarus as Murphy took his seat again – his sire felt like he was roughly the same distance away as last time, maybe he’d stopped to find somewhere for the day.
“Will I feel him less as he gets further away? I think he’s stopped,” Murphy asked outloud, wanting to give his mental voice a bit of a break. He got the feeling that they would be pushing him, and he wanted to be pushed, but it was going to be tiring.
-
Charon hadn't forgotten that Murphy had no family, but it was a subtle reminder that his siring wouldn't upset anyone who was expecting him to remain mortal. Human families tended to get nosy when a family member isolated themselves. The more solitary someone lived their life, the easier it was for them to enter a whole new one. The mortal part of Murphy had died, and he'd been reborn a supernatural. Transformations like that tended not to go unnoticed. Thankfully, he worked for a supernatural newspaper. That was one problem solved without even trying.
Without checking the phone himself, Charon pocketed it away inside his clothes. He asked for the unlock code and got it. He would've plucked it out of Murphy's head if he'd been resistant but really didn't want to start their new relationship that way. They were starting over, a fresh slate. Ben's Academy would've suited Murphy, but he didn't need it. Murphy Hilton had them, and they were the better choice.
Yes. The more distance he puts between you, the less you will sense him or know where he is. He wanted to know what exactly had transpired, but he didn't want to put Murphy through it again. Looking into the memory would summon it into Murphy's head. You passed a small, private gallery of ours to get to this room, Charon said, projecting the image of the spacious white room with dividing walls that many artworks hung on. How about you test your enhanced vision on the paintings while Jeanne and I exchange some brief words. I will collect you from there in a moment and will personally show you your temporary quarters - for however long you wish.
With Murphy dismissed, Charon would wait until the youngling was gone before he faced Jeanne and prompted her to share with him everything she knew. He also wanted to keep his reaction away from Murphy's gaze, and wasn't sure that he would be able to mask it. It was quite a personal experience, he felt, and his own siring had been without permission or even understanding of what was going to happen. It had been traumatic for him as well - his sire had also not stayed. He felt even more of a connection with the journalist because of it.
-
Jeanne smiled speculatively at Murphy as he gathered his bag and obediently left the room. She didn't think it was a fantastic idea for him to cut himself off from his friendship support network for too long but that conversation could wait. Once he was gone, she turned her attention to Charon.
After sending a polite greeting of warmth and acknowledgement to establish a connection, she showed Charon everything from Murphy's memory. Once she got to the part when she arrived, she shared from her own vantage point. All things considered, he did well, she summarised with a soft smile.
-
A successful feeding instructed over the phone, Charon noted with incredulity. Since you have had great success with him, did you want to make him a personal project? Adopt him? He's intriguing in his advancement. It makes me wonder...
He left the thought broken, wondering if he would earn himself a sharp look from Jeanne. He had connections with his family, but not the bright, vivid connection that came with a first generation fledge. But, and this was a big but, he doubted he would have patience for anyone that he didn't find intensely enchanting. He could see himself losing patience and interest in Murphy as well... unless the youngling continuously surprised him. He would be a complicated prize though, coming from the middle of Ben and Jake. If those two weren't around to interfere, he would've given it serious thought.
Never mind. Is there anything else you think I should know? An opinion or suggestion?
-
Charon's questions were all so loaded and Jeanne was freshly tortured by the thoughts she hadn't been able to let go of since they'd arrived home. Murphy made her wonder, too; wonder at her own mistakes, at her lack of wisdom and her own connections. She'd never have that again, though Charon was being deliberately polite in not saying so, if only to keep the peace between them. That he offered her Murphy at all was a great compliment and also, she hoped, another step towards forgiveness.
Did she deserve that, though? She'd let Charon down, betrayed him, destroyed his trust. How infantile she felt to only now begin to understand the true depths of her own arrogance and stupidity, when she was offered an inadequate substitute. Oh, Murphy would be lovely and she'd grow attached to him, she was sure, but it would never be the same as having her own true fledge. Could she be content with the status quo, when it was within her grasp to have it all? Did she dare?
It was a difficult decision to make in haste, yet that was where she stood; she had to decide what she wanted, and fast.
If he wants me, I will take him on. I am honoured you would consider me for the task, she sent Charon a sense of love and humility, blowing him a gentle kiss with the hand not holding her glass for good measure. I am content to let him choose, and if it is me he wants, I shall happily answer the call.
She paused, considering how best to phrase her answer to Charon's final prompts. Care was needed in the wording, lest her grand-sire take her thoughts as condemnation of his kindness.
I... do not think he should keep himself apart from those he is closest to. Not for any length of time. Certainly, he is traumatised tonight but what of their reactions if he hides here, knowing he has kept this from them? He might as well deliberately sever ties with them as take that cowardly path. His making was a slight against them and the sooner that gambit is played out, the swifter the healing for everyone will be. I think it is also worth considering your feelings on the matter. Lazarus has moved away but he has few resources at his disposal and we have many. If I took Murphy now, we have the means to travel in the daylight and catch up to this lone wolf. By the time a new night falls, I could have him in my grasp and kill him, if you wish it.
She bowed her head, knowing it was no small offering, proposing to deliberately hunt and kill one of their kind. Retribution for retribution. It wasn't Sacramentum's style but justice always had been and if Charon thought the scales were tipped against Murphy and this would help balance them, now was the time to act. They wouldn't have another opportunity like this, when the sire was not so far away and likely to feel himself safe.
-
Murphy gave a small nod at Charon’s response, it was what he’d expected given his previous knowledge, but being able to feel it for himself, that was a different matter. Even once he’d stopped sensing Lazarus he wondered how long it would take for that instinct to try to feel for him would last. In his head he didn’t want Lazarus to be nearby, but there was something within seeking his sire, bastard that he was.
He hesitated slightly as Charon dismissed him, a little surprised, but as he glanced between the two older vampires it made sense. No doubt they wanted to discuss him without him there. To be honest, if Charon was going to ask for more details of what happened he was relieved it would be directed at Jeanne, not himself. He’d already been through it twice, once in experiencing it then when Jeanne ran through his memories, so he could do without that again tonight.
The weight in his bag reminded him he still had his tablet. He could still contact Ben and Jake if he wanted to, but they were unlikely to email his as their first option, so he didn’t feel overwhelmed by that possibility.
As he entered the corridor and found himself alone again, Murphy took a deep breath a steady himself. The corridor was quiet, but he could feel people nearby, humans going about their business, a mental buzzing of other supernaturals in the building which he didn’t recognise and tried not to connect with.
Murphy made his way to the gallery Charon had directed him to, relieved not to run into anyone on the way. Right now he couldn’t imagine ever feeling satisfied with the amount of blood he drank, but he knew it would ease in time. Months maybe, or years, but it would come.
Trying not to think about the discussion going on about him, Murphy followed Charon’s advice at first, approaching a couple of paintings to examine them. He’d been in here once before, and the colours did seem sharper, brighter. It was amazing and Murphy sorely wished he had someone there to share this with, a sire who would take joy in hearing the exclamations he wanted to make, savour those experiences with him.
There was no one though, and without someone feeding that enthusiasm Murphy’s tiredness soon became a distraction and before long he took a seat on a small bench in the centre of the room, where one could pick any direction to sit and gaze at the paintings around them.
He wasn’t really focusing on anything with his eyes anymore - his mind wandered back to picturing Ben and Jake’s reactions, turning them over time and time again, then reaching for Lazarus, then back to those he’d meant to spite. Charon had said he could stay here for as long as he liked and seemed impressed with his abilities so far, Murphy assumes they would help train him, but for how long? He wasn’t part of their family, he’d missed that chance. There was the academy - Murphy almost laughed at the idea of Kerr being his teacher after Ben’s rejection. God, there was too much to think about with all of this, but he ran through it all as he waited for Charon, oblivious to the plans being made.
-
Charon was unlocking Murphy's phone to reply to Jake's text on his behalf when Jeanne had him halt in his actions. He froze, becoming much like a statue, and stared at her. The suggestion to hunt down and kill Lazarus wasn't unseemly - he'd killed vampires himself personally when he'd been slighted. This wasn't a slight against him though; the blonde ancient wouldn't have known of Murphy's connection to the Sacramentum, and as far as he'd known, Lazarus hadn't wanted anything to do with their family. He'd kept well under their radar.
With his mental response, he acknowledged her emotions and sent his response with radiating pleasure, pride and love. Jeanne had proven herself well beyond her past mistakes. She would be able to sense his belief.
It is not for us to seek vengeance; his actions were not against us. Leave him for now - perhaps in a century Murphy might like to hunt him down himself. Or Jake or Ben - I know our escaped bird wouldn't mind sending Lazarus to his death, though he hasn't killed yet and I am unsure if he will develop a taste for it.
Hmn. He couldn't picture Ben dealing a fatal blow. Now Jake, he certainly could. It brought him back to the text, which he stared at.
On your way? Want me to have some food or drinks for you?
Charon typed out a slow reply, jabbing at the letters and formulating a response.
This is Charon. I have Murphy at the estate. I do not wish for him to be distracted while he performs a task I have set out for him. It might take some time. I will keep you updated when things change.
Murphy's task was to deal with what he'd gone through. Charon was reminded strongly of when he'd placed Ben under Jake's care. Now he had Murphy under his own. An interesting dynamic.
He pressed send.
Let us both collect Murphy and take him upstairs to the lavender guest room. He should be surrounded in softness.
-
Jeanne smiled, giving a soft chuckle as she finished the last of her blood and rose to go to Charon's side. Softness, she mentally chided, buoyed by his love and approval and not at all discouraged by his rejection of her proposal. He was right. You'll spoil the childe, she murmured indulgently, linking her arm with Charon's. She expected nothing less, really. Everyone deserved a little pampering when they'd experienced trauma such as Murphy had.
As they moved out of the Autumnal room, Jeanne also tamped down her own mixed feelings. They had no place here and now. Just because Murphy had stirred this restlessness and self-flagellation to life in her didn't mean that he was in any way responsible for bearing the repercussions of it. Nor was Charon. Such pendulous decisions about her life connections, desires and future happiness were for her alone to work through. Their time had come and she would be ready to face them, soon.
But first, Murphy needed a little coddling. She wondered if he liked the violin.
-
Jake's phone chirped and he read the reply, face contorting into puzzlement. Murphy hadn't mentioned working for the Sacrament tonight, and why did Charon need Murphy's phone if he was doing a task? It was off, but he considered he was just being paranoid. Charon was an honest man - mostly - and Jake had no reason to doubt that Murphy had probably been called in last minute and forgotten to cancel. He typed out a quick reply.
Okay. I'd say give him a kiss for me, but I'll save it for when I see him. Warm feelings to you and the family. Have him check in when he's free. J.
Send.
Now he had no plans for the rest of the night. Sam was away, and Luke was off with his little boyfriend, Ham, or whatever his name was. Jake thought about calling Lisa-Joe and having her keep him company till sunrise, but she too had plans. She was with Seb? Pierre? Some chick named Morgaine? He couldn't keep up with Lisa-Joe's love life at this point. He ended up deciding to work till it was time to sleep, and pulled his laptop out to answer emails, and set up meetings. The silence in the apartment was too loud, and so he put on music to drown out the ringing in his ears.
-
With the mobile phone placed on silent so it would only vibrate its response, Charon walked with Jeanne to the gallery - a few steps in found Murphy on a seat, staring. Charon touched Murphy's mind as a way of letting him know of his presence, much like a mental hand on the shoulder, but with Murphy's presence he sensed an undercurrent of grinding thirst, overwhelmed emotions, imagined expressions from Ben and Jake, and a kind of... numbing blanket over it all - his ability to cope, perhaps? The brief touch wasn't enough to properly understand the freshly made vampire's processes but he wasn't going to delve in further. Charon withdrew as Murphy came out of his thoughts after sensing them in return.
Come along, now. I want you settled in your room before you sense the weight of dawn coming over you. There are still a couple of hours yet, he said, and realised that if Jake must've been expecting Murphy to arrive at his place at three or four in the morning. Murphy was spending the day at the White Rabbit now? Things must have progressed to something quite serious if a vampire was allowing a mortal their bed during the day. Though Jake was a modern vampire so perhaps he was more cavalier about such things.
The lavender room was a large bedroom with attached ensuite upstairs on the first raised level. The third door to the right opened into a room fit for a movie about the renaissance. Wall panels covered in lavender-patterened fabric with strips of walnut wood edging each panel. Large paintings of alpine scenery made an impression upon each wall; a lake and mountains here, a cabin nestled in a pine forest there, snow-capped mountains and a waterfall finishing off the room. The wall that held no paintings had shutters and holland blinds to protect the room from daylight - though now the blinds were up and the shutters were open. When the three of them entered, Charon gestured to them (but only for Murphy's sake) and they carefully closed and latched themselves. The room was chill but neither of them were bothered by the cold, though all of them would sense that it was cold.
The bed in the room looked insignificant even though it was a king-sized poster bed, with white sheer curtains tied to its walnut frame. The bedding was also lavender, and the cushions of the stately armchairs (with flourished wooden arms and legs) were also lavender, but that was where the colour stopped. Enough to make one think of this room as 'lavender' without being affronted by the colour. Touches of walnut, white and gold finished the room off.
Charon entered the room fully and moved to each window so he could physically pull the blinds down, covering the shutters. Then he faced Murphy - aware that the phone had buzzed silently in his clothes. He would check the message later.
-
Murphy blinked out of his mental solitude as Charon touched his mind and sat up straighter, turning to face the ancient, giving a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Okay, he replied mentally – he was still tried, but responding in kind felt like the natural thing to do with Charon now that he could. A few hours of peace and quiet before he had no choice but to sleep… it felt so odd to think of it. He’d mentally tried to prepare for it when he’d thought Ben would be siring him, but the truth of the matter, especially when it hit so suddenly, was very different.
He didn’t try to spark any conversation as they made their way to his room, but looked around in awe once they were there. The whole building was exquisite, but Murphy had never been in any of the bedrooms. He imagined those belonging to members of the family would be more personal, less themed – this felt like a hotel in one of the most expensive places he could imagine (which, due to a lack of experience, wasn’t terribly grand in his imagination). He ran his fingers along the walnut panels, feeling roughness where before there would have been a smooth finish. He spotted the en-suite and longed to take a shower, to get off that final feeling of grim from his attack and turning, but he resisted the urge to g fiddling with the fittings.
His golden gaze followed Charon’s gesture to the windows as the shutters covering them shut themselves. It was all so well prepared, ready for any eventuality it felt like. Watching Charon do something so domesticated as shut curtains felt odd, like he was seeing something that he shouldn’t, something private.
Murphy turned back towards Charon after doing a turn around the room to get his bearings. He wanted to ask what Charon had sent, or would send, to Jake, but he knew that asking that would open a whole can of worms, none of which would help him rest. If only there wasn’t all that drama to get past – having Jake or Ben here to hold tonight
day
…would be a huge comfort, but not a practical one for now.
This is really nice, thank you, he sent to both of his hosts, reaching out to run his fingers down the light cloth of the curtains surrounding the bed, his new senses wanting to experience all they could.
He heard the tiny sound of the vibration in Charon’s pocket and his gaze flickered downwards before meeting Charon’s amber gaze again. Ask, ask what it says, ask what he said, I miss him here, he’ll hate me. Murphy pressed his lips together, trying not to let himself think about what Jake might have been told or be thinking right now. He had to look after himself.
Hugh, and… Royce? Will you tell them what happened? For tomorrow night? he asked, letting his mind wonder back to the other important thing he felt currently – hunger. The mugs had been fine, but nothing like drinking from Andy, and he was supposed to have one of them there if he did that. Will they… can they give me any training, if they want to? Or is that… I don’t want to be in your way, Murphy added hesitantly. Charon had said he could stay, but hadn’t really mentioned any training, just feeding. That was a part of training, but if he had people here who could help, and wanted to, Murphy wanted to make the most of that.
-
Jeanne was compelled to reply, at the mention of training. To throw her hat in, as it were. She approached Murphy and took one of his hands between both of hers to get his attention, smiling into his golden eyes when they were directed at her.
We will inform Hugh and Royce, yes, she confirmed, reaching up to brush the tips of her fingers across the front of his hair because a small section had become flattened and it looked a tad uneven, to her. She thought he was even more handsome as a vampire. As for training, that is another question entirely. Not one that must be answered right away. You should wait and see whom you connect with. It may be someone from our family, it may not. You must be comfortable with them, for it can be an intimate process.
Of course, it was usually a more organically intimate process because it was generally shared between a blood-bonded pairing, but she didn't feel it worth pointing that out. It would sound like a condemnation for something entirely beyond Murphy's control. Besides, he could probably deduce as much for himself.
If you wish, it could be me. I will inform everyone in the family to avail themselves to you, if they are willing to take you on, also. Would that suit you? Your choice would be far greater, then, she informed, a twinkle in her own eyes.
-
Charon could hear their conversation as though it was spoken out loud but he didn't insert himself into it. He thought it interesting that Jeanne believed Murphy would be better off picking whoever he liked best rather than whoever was best suited. Jeanne, who had no fledgelings living here of her own, would make an excellent surrogate, but perhaps she herself wasn't quite convinced. A powerful fledge would make for a less frustrating student, but Charon didn't have the patience for a baby bird.
Ben's cravings - and he was past the stage of infancy - had been strong enough to be eye-rolling. When Charon had played the part of Kerr, Ben would disappear into the kitchen four times a night to warm up something to drink. Charon had been more interested in watching him drink from someone, but Ben had constantly come up with excuses not to go out while they were together.
He wondered if Murphy would be a private feeder as well. He thought it interesting how both of them shared strong similarities, though Murphy was the more outgoing of the two. They both had strong willpower and resilience, they were both independent but could ask for help when overwhelmed, they were both thinkers - though Ben focussed on himself and Murphy on others. Charon used to believe that Murphy was less ambitious - but after getting to know both young men, he'd changed his mind. Murphy was no less ambitious than Ben, but he was less ruthless in his desire to achieve his goals. Murphy was more likely to assess the potential outcomes. Because of this, Murphy made a better fit for the Sacramentum.
He preferred when family members (even if they were adopted) lived together. When Leoric left, angry and hurt by Jeanne, his decision had isolated him. For almost a milennia, Charon had given Jeanne a hard time because of whose blood flowed through her veins and not once had she soured from the family or thought to run away. She'd earnt her place here. She was not weak. She made bad decisions but he enjoyed her company more than Ari or Felicia, who didn't care to share their thoughts and opinions with him until they were asked. Felicia sometimes didn't even do that. But they stayed and they were loyal.
He thought all of this in the space of a minute, whilst Jeanne and Murphy chatted. Murphy would make a fine addition - someone to take his mind off the return of Royce, who was his new disappointment. Ari was another, like Jeanne, who chose fledglings badly. Felicia had magnificent taste, though he doubted she would care about Murphy's situation.
Not everyone in the family is appropriate as a teacher or would not be distracted by their own situation, he flashed at Jeanne, and Jeanne alone. Then, to both of them, I will leave you for now, to give you some quiet. We will talk tomorrow.
Should nobody stop him, Charon would exit the room.
-
Murphy couldn’t help but smile as Jeanne approached and made her small motions of grooming him. She looked so young, younger than him, smaller, yet when she was near he could feel her age. He knew Kerr reacted badly, getting overwhelmed by the age of ancients, but Murphy wasn’t overwhelmed. Impressed, in awe because of the ways they followed, and there was an awareness that they were older, but he didn’t find himself frightened by it.
What Jeanne was describing made sense – Murphy knew it wouldn’t be the same as having his own sire training him, but that wasn’t going to be possible. There were other options. He would be an idiot to turn down the option of having someone on the Sacramentum train him if that was an option. Charon had mentioned Ari previously, but he’d lost interest (without even showing he had any in the first place). He didn’t want someone like that. There were options at the Academy as well, but Murphy did feel safe here and at the moment that was a huge positive.
Thank you for your offer, I will seriously consider it, and see who fits best, he replied, lifting his hand to lightly touch her check in thanks. It was going to be difficult, trying to prove himself worthy so that the family members would think he wasn’t a waste of time. Jeanne was already offering, so that was reassuring already.
His golden eyes flickered towards Charon, half wondering whether the patriarch would consider giving up any of his time for training. Not all of his training, obviously, Charon had other matters to attend to, but perhaps some time. It would be an amazing opportunity.
When Charon took his leave Murphy gave a small nod, and thanked him warmly as well. He knew he’d made the right choice by calling Jeanne tonight. If he’d called Jake or Ben then Andy would probably be dead – or someone else in that motel. They probably wouldn’t have got their so quickly, so more than one person could have been a victim. Then he would have needed to tell them about Lazarus, Jake might have wanted to chase after the blonde, Ben would have… who knew. Maybe shipped him here anyway for safekeeping.
Once they were alone Murphy turned his attention back to his rescuer. He wanted to shower, but that hollowness as gnawing at him again.
Can I feed again? Is there time? Either a mug or… if you’re free perhaps you could help me again, in person this time? he asked, a slightly sheepish look on his face. She’d already given up so much of her time for him this night, he wouldn’t blame her if she simply ordered him another mug (or two) and left him to it.
-
Jeanne faltered at Charon's... well, it felt almost like a reprimand but she knew he was right. Not everyone in the family would suit Murphy as a trainer. Charon's gentle chide was flattery and as nice as that was, it was also surprising. It forced her to acknowledge that, although he'd forgiven her, she hadn't forgiven herself. Still, she was resolved to let Murphy choose, even if it came back to her anyway.
The youngling's hand upon her face was a surprise. Her thoughts stilled and she blinked at him, finding the contact gentle yet refreshingly intimate. None of her family were as tactile as she - though Charon tolerated her hands upon him, in his own grandfatherly way - so Murphy's touch thrilled her in a thoroughly unexpected manner. She was too surprised and the contact too fleeting for her to entirely examine its effect on her but the result was a surge of indulgent affection.
Of course you may drink again, she cooed into Murphy's mind and began a mental sweep of the estate to find a suitable candidate. As necessary as it might be to expose Murphy to all the different kinds of reactions mortals gave when being drunk from, Jeanne didn't think it necessary to make any such point with his second feeding. She searched for a donor who was, primarily, a meditative responder, secondarily was awake at this late hour and, thirdly, was willing to subject themselves to the possible experimentation of a fledgeling biter. The response was swift and Jeanne made her choice gratefully.
"Clair is coming for you to drink from," she informed Murphy, using her voice because she thought that the prospect of an imminent drink would distract him too much to concentrate on her mental voice and she needed to give him important instructions. "I want you to consider how you would like to drink from her. It is imperative that you have confidence and make the decisions early. Take charge. Mortals expect it to be this way so it is necessary for you to accept the natural order of things now. You must be in control - even if you do not feel that is your right because you are so young, it is. I assure you."
Despite her words, she grasped Murphy's hand and led him to the bed, sitting him upon the edge of it and seating herself upon his lap, sidesaddle, with her arms about his shoulders. "You could stand, but she is quite a bit shorter than you, so this might be better. Of course, you may also have her recline upon the bed and you might lie with her, but that could feel too much, with a stranger. The problem is, this business is going to be intimate, every time," she warned him huskily, looking steadily into his golden eyes. Their noses were almost touching. "You will get used to it but your donors may not. You should understand this. Now, this would be the most comfortable for you both."
Briefly, Jeanne leant towards Murphy, her face pressed to his shoulder so that her neck was conveniently exposed to his mouth. She didn't remain in this position for long at all, however, because she heard a heartbeat approaching down the hall. "Ah, she comes," Jeanne exclaimed delightedly, getting off Murphy's lap and grabbing his hand again to tug him to his feet. They were both facing the door when a portly older woman with a sweet blush to her cheeks entered the room with a smile.
"Hello," she greeted cheerfully, giving a little wave. She was slightly shorter than Jeanne herself, though where Jeanne was willowy and graceful, Clair was rotund and homely. She had a little round belly, considerable bosom and the general shape of an upside down pear. She wore a white button up shirt, black skirt, tights and flats and her hair was silvery white and held up in a tidy bun. Despite her hair colour, she was only in her early forties.
Jeanne stepped forward to gather the mortal close with an arm about her, accompanying her the couple of steps back to Murphy. "Clair, thank you for coming so quickly. This is Murphy. He is young, as I told you, and eager to learn to drink without pain or difficulties. It is our job to guide him," she smiled conspiratorially at the mortal, giving her shoulders a squeeze.
Clair reached up to pat Jeanne's hand and said, "That's fine. Happy to help, pleased to meet you, Murphy," she smiled sweetly, stepping forward to shake his hand. She was a cook, it was her job to feed the mortal staff on duty. Jeanne thought she always smelt like baking pastries and tonight was no exception. It didn't alter the taste of her blood, of course, but her scent was cosy and comforting somehow. She hoped drinking from a grandmotherly type might put Murphy at greater ease.
-
Murphy felt a wave of relief as Jeanne agreed to helping him feed. After Andy being his first, it would be nice to end the night on a more… steady footing, a more positive affirmation that he could do this.
He listened carefully to Jeanne’s instructions. Being told to be confident was one thing, but it wasn’t that easy. Fake it til you make it, right? Murphy didn’t resist as Jeanne rearranged him and positioned herself on his lap. She was a beautiful woman – if he was more that way inclined then Murphy knew he would probably have found himself completely distracted from the task in hand.
With Ben and Jake, and the feedings with strangers before then, it had always gone so smoothly. They showed that confidence that came with knowledge – apart from the first time with Ben. Looking back on it that was hilarious, but he knew Ben’s pride and how embarrassing it must have been for him. And Ben’s first feed – that had been Ichabod, hadn’t it? No fear of such confusing relationships coming about with Andy, or whomever Jeanne had summoned.
Unwilling to get distracted by thoughts of the past, Murphy focused on her gaze. Her closeness was reassuring, steadying. She sounded like she was confident in his abilities as she taught him, so he was absorbing that, trying to make it his own confidence.
As she outstretched her throat to him Murphy’s golden eyes flickered downwards to run over her throat. It should have been appealing, but there was no heatbeat, no flutter of a pulse, so the temptation to close that gap wasn’t there.
He hadn’t been listening for the approach of Clair, but he gave a laugh of surprise as Jeanne pulled him to his feet, not having a chance to miss her weight on him before he was up and waiting facing the door. Whilst Jeanne swept forwards to greet Clair, Murphy hung back, pulling his hands behind his back to avoid allowing his fingers to twist together nervously. Murphy focused on remembering Jeanne’s words. Take charge.
At Clair’s greeting Murphy gave a warm smile and stepped forwarded to take her hand.
“Clair, thank you so much for coming, and so quickly. I hope we haven’t disturbed you too much. I’ll try not to keep you too long,” he said, realising he might be talking too much, but unable to stop for a moment. Her scent had filled the room – bread, pastries, sugar, warmth. Things he’d never taste again. And her blood. He could already hear her heart beating, not with the speed adrenaline had pressed Andy’s into, but with a soothing rhythm. She looked so tidy and put together, it suddenly made Murphy feel even grubbier, aware of the odd speck of blood he hadn’t managed to scrub off earlier which Clair probably wouldn’t even be able to see.
“You’ve done this more times than I have, no doubt,” Murphy said, stepping back towards the bed without releasing Clair’s hand so that she would follow him. He felt wrong just leaping into it, feeling like there should be some talk first.
“Jeanne has been giving me some instruction, but if there is anything you prefer, dislike… I’ll probably have no idea how to do it, but I can try,” Murphy said with a smile, before he glanced towards the bed.
“I was going to sit, then you on my lap, if you’re ready to start?” Murphy asked Clair, still grasping her hand gently. He maybe didn’t sound quite as confident as he would have liked, but he didn’t want to just tug her into position in case she felt rushed.
-
"My pleasure, it's no trouble at all," Clair beamed, obviously pleased by Murphy's opening comments.
Jeanne was also impressed by his gratitude, flowing warmly and genuinely through the timbre of his voice. She hadn't instructed him to be kind but she hadn't needed to; the youngling's instincts were good.
Clair tittered a laugh at Murphy saying she'd done this more times than he had but then she let him talk, nodding agreeably to everything he said. "Your lap is fine - as long as I'm not too heavy, dear," she giggled, then grew serious. "You'll find, if you look closely at my neck here," she tilted her head and pointed at the left side of her throat, "that I've got a mole just above where you should bite, in my jugular. It has helped guide many young vampires," she said sweetly, positioning herself on Murphy's lap and dutifully wrapping her arms about his shoulders to steady herself, head tilted at an angle that would improve his bite access.
Jeanne stepped closer to observe but didn't say anything, relying on Murphy to remember what she'd advised for Andy. It was a test, to see what he could do by himself, under far less pressure. She'd speak only if necessary to correct.
-
Murphy dutifully examined the mole Clair referred to, taking note of it's positioning as Clair arranged herself on his lap.
"A handy map, thanks," he said with a smile, although he could already see the throbbing to show where he needed to bite without that guiding mark. His hand slid around her waist and his other began to move to grip her hair, like he'd done for Andy, like Lazarus had done to him, but stopped himself. This wasn't pressured or rushed like with Andy; Jeanne was there to stop him, guide him if anything went wrong. Instead he cupped her cheek gently, running a his thumb over her soft skin.
He paused there, glancing at Jeanne briefly before realising she wasn't giving orders and it didn't look like she was going to. He gave her a tiny nod before turning his focus back towards the woman in his arms and running through her previous instructions, hoping he wasn't forgetting anything.
Clair was already calm, but Murphy still began to run through a vaguely peaceful song in his mind, projecting into her mind Elton John's Your Song (https://youtu.be/CrznwpD-2tk). Sending a sense of calm was much easier when he felt a lot more together (and hadn't been just killed then discovered ripping the throat out of a dog).
Murphy didn't need to move much to close the distance between him and Clair and he ran his lips softly over her throat, kissing lightly.
"Comfy?" he asked, waiting for her confirmation (or shifting their position slightly) before returning his attention to her throat.
Clair, you're going to be fine, we're going to be fine, stay still, he sent mentally, trying to hold her more tightly without actually increasing pressure on her. He didn't want her to move, but didn't want to hurt her either. Murphy found her beat of her pulse and his body screamed at hjim to bite, to bite deeply and to drink his fill. But he made himself pause - what had Jeanne said?
Behind the pulse.
Murphy shifted his position by a few milimeters before pulling back his lips and moving to sink his fangs into her skin, trying to be gentle but then biting a bit more deeply than intended. He let out a quiet moan as her blood hit his tongue and he drank.
-
Jeanne gave a tiny smile of reassurance when Murphy looked warily at her but then he continued about his business. She was surprised (but impressed) by the singing - she was monitoring his thoughts in case of a panic attack, though even with his advanced skills, he wouldn’t be aware of her presence.
As Clair gave an affirmative, “Yes, dear,” to the question of being comfortable, Jeanne was still pondering Murphy’s technique. Should she reveal the truth behind what he was actually doing, to make the process clearer or would it be best to let his instincts rule for a little longer? She quickly decided it could wait indefinitely (though if he chose another to train him, she’d have some explaining to do regarding the desperate circumstances surrounding his first drink and how she’d ended up guiding his ability to dominate so queerly!).
The bite seemed a bit harder than necessary - Jeanne resolved to discuss the fragility of skin as mortals aged and how to temper the force behind a bite accordingly - but Clair soon sagged happily against Murphy, humming ‘Your Song’ behind her happy smile. Jeanne watched his mouth work, knowing the blood was flowing quickly due to the pressure he’d exerted. She frowned minutely, concerned he was being gluttonous rather than efficient. He was young, certainly, but his mind was hungrier than his body and he needed to learn the difference.
When it was time for him to stop, Jeanne cleared her throat as a signal. Clair was compliant in his arms but chose that moment to start singing the chorus, rather than just hum it. “I hope you don’t mind! I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you’re in the world!” It seemed an oddly congratulatory statement, celebrating Murphy’s ushering into the vampiric realm and Jeanne had to stifle a smile as she watched Murphy close off the wound - quite expertly, frankly.
Clair left the room with a minimum of fuss - though she did blush and apologise for her singing, admitting she’d never performed in such a manner, before she thanked Murphy and waved away his gratitude, floating contentedly back to wherever she’d come from. Jeanne sat beside Murphy, the compression of the mattress causing her body to press against his side. Her hand came to rest quite naturally on his thigh and she smiled into his lovely golden eyes, admiring his handsome face up close.
“Well?” she prompted indulgently, savouring the satisfaction she could feel rolling off him vicariously. She vaguely recalled the pure pleasure of those early feeds, the adoration and reverence for the taste, the texture, the scent and feel of the beings bleeding into her body for nourishment. It had been potent and heady, inspiring a lust like no other and she recalled fondly the passionate indulgence with her sire afterwards. It was tragic that Murphy didn’t have anyone genuinely invested in him enough to properly celebrate his transformation with him. Well, she was here, but she believed herself inadequate because he wasn’t interested in women.
-
Murphy felt himself relax into drinking as Clair's body relaxed against his. With Andy he'd been feeling desperate, panicked, like he was on the edge of murdering someone. With Clair resting against him and humming along, it was a whole different experience. His hand on her cheek drifted across her skin, stroking absent-mindedly, finding it easier to send calming thoughts when they were both already calm (so he realised that maybe it wasn't necessary, but it was all he knew).
He was vaguely trying to keep track of Clair's heart-beat, but it was difficult when the sound of it just made him think of the delicious blood than was so satisfying, yet not filling that hole, swallowing it down, drinking hungrily.
Murphy did just manage to pay attention to Jeanne's small throat clear, knowing what she was implying and he was relieved that Clair's sudden burst of song covered his groan of disappointment, from Clair's ears at least. He shut his eyes for a moment, taking one final mouthful before he bit his tongue and smeared blood over her throat to close up the wound in her throat as Clair happily chimed out the words he'd been thinking along with his calming mantra. Despite his dismay that the feeding was over, Murphy couldn't help but smile at the sound of her voice as he cleaned up any stray drops of blood (not that there were many, he hadn't wanted any to escape). He lifted his head to watch the wounds heal, enjoying the sight of what his blood could now do.
Most of the time Murphy had been bitten on the neck, so he hadn't really been able to see the skin knit together so tidily, so quickly. It was efficient, perfect. He ran a finger over her healed wound briefly, before helping releasing his grasp on her and giving Clair a hand up.
Their goodbyes were over quickly, Murphy was so grateful that the whole experience had been so much better, he wanted to follow her, to make sure someone looked after her properly, but he knew donors here would be, which was reassuring. He'd stood to walk her towards the door, but then as soon as it closed behind her Murphy moved back to his seat, overcome with relief at the whole situation.
When Jeanne joined him Murphy let his body rest against hers as the matress sank, urging them together. He knew he could have drunk more, but for now the urge was lessened, the voice screaming at him to feed had quietened to a gentle whisper. It would return, but for now he was feeling more peaceful than he had since he'd got that text.
"That was one hundred percent better than last time," Murphy said with a grin at her question, turning to meet her gaze happily. "She was a good choice, it was so much more... relaxed. I guess I'm going to have to stop the singing though, not very inconspicious," he said, letting himself laugh at the memory of it. He couldn't help but imagine feeding from someone on the street and havig them burst into song like that. Murphy's hand covered Jeanne's and he gave her a pleased squeeze.
"Thanks again. For everything tonight," Murphy enthused, twisting his body and shifting away from Jeanne a little, so that he could lift his knee on to the bed between them, facing her more directly whilst still maintaining that physical contact. His smile faltered for a second as her beautiful blue eyes remindered him of Jake's, which sometimes showed those blue hints. He wished he knew what Charon had said to Jake, what Jake had replied. If he didn't come back to the White Rabbit soon, would he come looking for him? Had Charon told him he was here? Longing for that closeness Murphy suddenly found himself reaching out for Lazarus again and he flinched mentally as he realised what he was doing.
"Any tips for next time?" he asked, trying to push thoughts of Jake and Lazarus aside to focus on Jeanne and what he needed to learn. He was sure there were things he'd done wrong, that he needed to work on... knowing when enough was enough for example. He knew his smile had faded and he tried to bring it back, to focus on how good that had felt, how much better it had been, how happy Clair had been. She had been delieghted and he'd done that.
-
"The singing was just a manifestation of your skill to dominate. It was the easiest way I could think to explain it, and to get you to tap into it without any formal training, under pressure. Music has the power to take over thoughts in ways like no other; simply and consistently," she smiled mysteriously.
"Next time, we can try you understanding the theory and applying that, rather than going by instinct. It may feel counterintuitive but you are also very young and not supposed to be able to do it yet. At all. You also need to understand that your body will not die without blood, your cognitive abilities will just be affected. The two containers of blood I gave you were sufficient to counteract the exertion with Andy and last you until tomorrow night; Clair was merely for comfort and practice. You must learn to curb your desire. It will assist you in stopping the drinking earlier, also."
She smiled as she delivered the chastisement, hoping to soften the blow of criticising him. She was confident that he understood she'd be honest with him at all times - and hoped that he'd cope with her frankness.
-
Her instruction was welcome, it had been requested after all, and Murphy nodded as she explained. He was excited to learn how to do it properly, but also pleased that he had this fall back option. Her mentioning that he shouldn't be able to do it at all reminded him of what Charon had said earlier, about them being able to communicate mentally with ease - he shouldn't be able to do that either, but he could. Thanks to his sire.
He gave a smile in return, taking her words as a lesson that needed to be taught, not a reprimand. He knew he had a lot to learn, to make sure he could keep people safe when he was alone, but Jeanne and Charon seemed to have faith in him which boosted his spirits.
It was all a lot though and so sudden. Nothing like the preparation he thought he'd have before turning and Murphy suddenly felt exhausted as the night caught up with him and he thought through all of her instructions. It was do difficult to remember it all when actually feeding, when the main thought was to just get as much blood as possible. He lifted a hand to run over his face and through his hair as he nodded.
"Ok, I'll try that next time. It worked well though, when it was needed, and I liked her singing. I hope she's ok," the young vampire said, glancing in the direction Clair had disappeared with a wistful smile. "There's so much to learn and remember," he added, mulling it over himself more than expecting a response from Jeanne.
"I need to shower before bed, I'm exhausted," Murphy said, turning back to Jeanne, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. He half wanted to ask her to stay - it seemed like a long time until the following night and spending it alone felt... scary. But he tried to remind himself that he would be dead to the world for the daylight hours. He didn't want to be alone but Jeanne wasn't the person he wanted here.
But who was?
Jake was going to hate him for smelling like Lazarus.
Ben had supported him through other things, but would no doubt be filled with guilt.
They would both make it all about them. And it was due to them, but it was Murphy it had happened to.
Lazarus? Fuck no. but also... kind of. That was fucking confusing.
Murphy walked Jeanne to the door as she gracefully took her leave, realising he needed space and something she couldn't provide. He wondered whether she would be the right fit for a trainer - she obviously knew already everything that had happened and her tutorage so far had done the job. But he didn't know her very well, they might not blend so well after all. It wasn't a decision he needed to make right now, but something to think on.
Once he was alone it was tempting to just crawl into bed, but Murphy pushed himself to get into the shower, humming the song Clair had belted out quietly to himself as the hot water pounded down on him, stinging his skin with heat and turning it pink as Clair's blood rushed to his skin. As soon as the water had hit him Murphy knew to shower first was the right choice. The pain from his injuries was gone, but he was aware of where they had been, mainly from blood stains on his skin which he scrubbed off thoroughly. Every bit of him got a thorough clean and ones he was out Murphy stared at himself in the mirror again, wiping away the steam. He looked more like himself, but those eyes - God, they were something. He debated shaving, but once the stubble was gone it was gone, so Murphy left it (since he usually kept a bit and it made him feel more like himself).
After drying off Murphy tumbled into bed naked, enjoying the new feel of the soft cloth on his skin in a way he'd not experienced before. His mind wandered over the events of the day, but before he could linger on them for too long, the sun came close enough to the horizon that his new condition forced sleep upon him, despite the age of his blood.