Roleplay City
Infusco => INFUSCO: Enter The Shadows => † OUT OF THE CITY † => Topic started by: Idrial on August 19, 2019, 02:12:42 PM
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(Reserved for Saiketsu)
Mitch had decided to make use of his time and attend a meeting at the Zingari Theatre that was open to the public, lingering in the audience chamber, quiet as a mouse, taking in all the information brought up at the meeting. It had been a while since he had met with Zeus, the meeting had been reassuring, however, Mitch owed the demon favour; a small price to pay. In turn, Zeus had reassured Mitch he was free to move around the West, long as he obeyed the rules and Mitch had done an impeccable job. This game that was afoot gave Mitch a rush he hadn't felt in years, he had a new fledge to play slave and it added to Mitch's twisted idea of pleasure. This weeks meeting was wrapping up, providing some insight and something for Mitch to mull over. Discreetly exiting the crowd once the meeting was officially adjourned, breaking off into a dark alleyway once he got outside. His attire was simple, a black, long-sleeved, the plain leather jacket with a high collar was his choice for a coat. Accompanied by dark denim jeans and black sneakers, nothing special. Relaxing his shoulders as the dark comforted Mitch, stuffing his hand into his pockets with an errie grin on his face.
Mitch had learned throughout his short time here that some of his people were unhappy, their leader's unexplained absence left a sour taste in some demons mouths; lucky for Zeus they were few and far in between. It wasn't the information he was actively looking for, Mitch merely found out upon chance while looking for other sources of information; unrelated to Zeus. He had found nothing that could point him in the right direction so far, his goal was here in the city and that he knew with one hundred percent certainty. Exactly where in the city was the golden question. His mind flashed back to his conversation with Nikolai, he could approach Zoheret, or he could approach Ben, each hated Jake with a passion and that would be his his fall guy to get into other parts of the city.
That would have to wait, something squishy and malleable was on his mind tonight, after his meeting with Apep Mitch had something devious in store, maybe Nikolai would enjoy his gift? After all, he seemed like a man willing to chase a good high, an evil smirk popped up on his lips, wouldn't that be something? His fledge enjoying the high in the presence of his Sire... highly unlikely, he had felt the hate that coursed through Nikolai. It would take much more lying and deceiving to win his trust, a challenge he was willing to take. It was there, that sense of wanting Mitch, it was small but Mitch could make it grow. And then the entity that resided within Nikolai, those two souls, demon or whatever co-existing, a chance to make the perfect assassin; a chance of achieving a perfect legacy.
Spending an extra amount of time on the Illuminate the Trail of Prey, spending good money on a white satin ribbon, letting the blood dye the fibres deeply. Once soaked Mitchelletto cautiously lit the satin ribbon on fire, a trail was illuminated, with gleeful and monstrous eyes Mitch could now see every single place Nikolai had been in the West within two weeks. He scoured the West high and low to extract any information on Nikolai and his places of interest, after a few hours he grew satisfied and returned to the area of within Zingari Theatre, now he had a dilemma. Did he summon Nikolai within the city as he mentioned in their earlier encounter? Or did he bring him back to the hotel outside of the city? Ah, fuck it! Turning on his heels he made his way back outside of the city, this needed to be done in private, and he was taking a leap teaching Nikolai Blood Sorcery first rather than Obfuscate. One he hoped would pay off in some sort of trust.
It did not take him long to return to the hotel, once in the elevator, he used the blood bond to summon Nikolai, only this time instead of feeling like an abusive summons, it would feel stern to Nikolai, a softer approach. The game had begun and Mitch gave out a small laugh, alone in the elevator, the doors sliding open with a satisfying grin on his face. A small spring in his step as he made his way back to his room, recently acquiring some new furniture after the damage that was caused last time, a small bill to pay. He decided to undress, letting his clothes slip off his muscular body in the bedroom, his socks and silk boxers were among the scattered clothes, he liked being commando. Grabbing a black tank top and a pair of sweat pants, sliding them effortlessly over his body. He decided to wait in the living room for Nikolai, elbows on his knees, his face pressed gently in his hands, it would not be long before he showed up.
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He had been fighting to remain sober for a full two days now, the cramps in his stomach almost debilitating. Every minute spent clean was an unappetizing victory. He smoked cigarettes constantly, cramming his eyes shut when the voices in his head crescendoed and made his ears ring. The blood he drank was warm and fresh from clean sources, though not lacking in violence, and did nothing to ease the torment in his body, the remaining leeches in his head, and the apathy that he felt on a nightly basis.
At first, he didn't believe Laurent - no, wouldn't believe him. Nikolai had spent too many nights on the shores of Awelfor Manor to believe She was back so easily. Wasn't it just like Laurent to torture him with the idea that She was back, without searching for him or finding him? Pathetic. She knew where and how to find him and had never failed to find him before. It was impossible. Damien would have made some kind of attempt to tell him that She was back - he was too good not to. He would have felt her enormous power, right?
"Odessa Turkevich has been sighted in two places: Sticks and Stakes Pool Hall and the home of Damien Evans."
Slowly it ate at him, sleeping with Her ghost daily. The more he thought about it, the less certain he became - which was exactly what Laurent wanted. He hated it. For the first time in his immortal life, sleep was difficult to find and harder to maintain, his days spent alone in bed depressed by the weight of the sun outside.
He was able to resist Laurent's words for two days before he decided to sober up. If he was going to see Her, he wouldn't be strung out like some junkie - not that he believed that She would actually be there. She was in the ocean, he knew. Going to Awelfor Manor was just to prove that, although some small want persisted, criticized sharply by a malevolent Judas in chains.
On the fourth night after Laurent's leech extraction and betrayal, Nikolai found himself in the driver's seat of his newest model Cadillac Escalade, facing a significant amount of withdrawal pain with a cigarette pinched between the fingers of his left hand. The SUV sped down up the coast, pointed towards the ancient's manor
With about twenty minutes left to drive, he felt Mitchelletto's Pull.
It grew like a warmth in his chest and at first he felt like he could ignore it. But as the SUV pushed through the night, the Pull grew heavy and stretched, building tension under his skin until it was compressing his ribcage. Nikolai groaned, pushed forward through his stubbornness until the pressure in his body leaked into his head, forcing him to slam on the brakes and turn to follow the tether out of the city. It was easy enough to follow, this tether, the connection only slacking the closer he got to the hotel. The need to find Mitchelletto was beyond aggravating, but over the past few weeks Nikolai had learned that his will no longer belonged solely to himself.
There was a cocktail of emotion flitting through him as he opened the door to the brothel and took the elevator up to Mitchelletto's floor. Laurent, it seemed from the lack of presence, was out for the night and Nikolai hoped that it would remain that way until he was well away from the hotel, his last meeting with the shadow demon being one he didn't care to remember anymore than he had to - and the one he thought about the most. Nikolai didn't bother knocking on the door, but just opened it to see Mitch smirking at him, both aware of the other as soon as Nikolai had parked.
If Mitchelletto hadn't been his sire, Nikolai may have been neutral about his attraction to him. As he stood before him, the door wide, he was aware of how magnetic the older vampire was, his presence easing the tension in his body instantly. The tight tank showed off some of the features that had originally drawn a human Nikolai to him all those years ago in Chicago; to this day, Nikolai only remembered bits and pieces from that night.
"A phone call works just as well, you fuck." He crossed his arms over his chest as he stood several feet from his sire.
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"Would you have actually come?" Mitch quipped back sternly at Nikolai, no malice in his voice this time. Granted, Mitch could have found his phone number with ease, but in reality, he didn't want Nikolai's number summoning him was much more reliable.
Mitchelletto's gaze was soft as he looked upwards, almost enduring towards Nikolai, however, that intense assassins aura leaked through at the same time. He never left the couch, remaining in the same position when Nikolai had entered through the door. There was no sense in standing, let alone flexing his own limbs without putting Nikolai in defence mode, he seemed slightly docile today and Mitch needed that to remain. Blood sorcery was a discipline that needed patience and calm, one false move, like his incident with Balefire years back, and there would dire consequences.
"You can hate me all you wish," stating in a calm, level voice, "I still have to take responsibility, planned or not. I will teach you what I know, you are still apart of the clan whether you agree with it or not." Half-truths rolled off his tongue sweet like honey, he didn't have to teach Nikolai anything but he needed a foot in the door.
"You are a man of information from what I hear from Laurent, there is something I can teach you," adverting his gaze to the chair behind Nikolai before looking at him again. He was signally politely that he should sit if he wished to know more, whether he sat or remained standing was up to Nikolai.
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Nikolai levelled a glare at him as Mitchelletto spoke of responsibility, remembering for the first time in a very long time how his father had pulled that same shit on him - sitting him down and trying to explain what was what. Then, just like in that room in 1932, Nikolai stood stock still and glared at the older man, waiting impatiently for the moment he would be allowed to use his free will again.
He didn't want anything from Mitch - there was no lesson that Nikolai could learn that would be worth being in his presence again, not after the incident with his shoulder. Laurent's punishment for lack of good intel. Fuck the clans and your abilities, he wanted to say. Because that had worked so well in the past.
Nikolai remained standing, his arms crossed over his chest.
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Mitch had expected resistance from Nikolai but what surprised the older vampire was not a word came out of his mouth, silence. Was this progress or did he really have nothing to say? Mitch matched his fledges level headed stare for mere moments, he then flexed his limbs, cracked his back and stood slowly from the couch, taking notes on how he was reacting, He did not close the distance between the two, he stepped away from the couch, away from Nikolai. Patience was needed on his part, beating the fool would not help one bit, one of the challenges of this game.
"It is called A Taste for Blood it allows you to collect information from just blood alone. Discerning certain traits of the one it belongs too," hoping that would pique Nikolai's interest.
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Hatred flared deep in his chest as the other vampire stood and he hoped silently that Mitch could feel it somehow, still unfamiliar with how this whole sire bond thing worked. Nikolai did his best not to flinch as he moved, the hairs prickling on the back of his neck as he prepared to fight his sire yet again. Nikolai wasn't fooled by his movement away from him, though he did find a touch of relief as he watched.
His eyes twitched as Mitch began with this magical clan bullshit. With the explaination of its usefulness, Nikolai's expression hadn't changed but he watched the other closely. Cautionary measures, in case Mitch changed his mind and launched at him.
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Mitch could feel the hatred within Nikolai, a swirling mass that stained the bond they shared, and he did not attempt to reach out and soothe him. that would be too obvious and from past experiences, Nikolai did not react all too to being coddled through the bond. All within his own right. Taking note of the hair that stood up on his neck, giving Nikolai his space was the best course of action. Mitch sighed deeply and shook his head as Nikolai still said nothing, deciding to lean against the wall close to Mitch, his arm crossed against his chest, mimicking Nikolai. Secretly he was pleased that he wasn't being a mouthy brat, not yet anyway and even if he did become mouthy Mitch would let it slide for this interaction. This was an experiment and Mitch needed to stay calm to get the results he wanted from Nikolia.
"There are other abilities I can teach you but this one is more simple to learn," trying to keep the conversation going. He did not raise his voice at Nikolai and the gaze he gave him was inviting.
He wondered if he would still remain silent or would he take a leap of faith and start talking? Perhaps the last beating really did put a choke chain on his own tongue? No matter. Tonight Nikolai would see a one-eighty in Mitch, however unbeknownst to Nikolai it was all a game, nothing was real. Being kind was not in Mitch's vocabulary, but he had fooled thousands over his long undead life and Nikolai would be no different.
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With a sneer, he shook his head. "Yeah? And whose blood am I going to use, huh? Yours? One of those terrified little girls you both love so much? Laurent's?" He scoffed at the idea, leeches hissing angrily in his mind but offering no other resistance. Like I want to find out anything else about any of you. He looked away from his sire out into the greater part of the room.
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Mitch had would have thought Nikolai would have had more bark to his sentence, his statement wasn't entirely correct, sometimes he had to use his own blood, but he let it slide and he arched an eyebrow at Nikolai. Maybe he needed to be shown what his blood was capable of, allowing Nikolai to look away from Mitch for now. He needed a mortal, making it known that he shifting positions, no longer leaning against the wall he made his way towards the phone in the kitchen, his fingers dancing over the numbers from memory.
"Send up a mortal boy. Anyone will do," hanging up the phone. Remaining in the kitchen, for now, this was might pique Nikolai's interest, his fingers tapping the kitchen counter deep in thought.
Several minutes later a small knock came at the door and Mitch sauntered his way to the door and yanking it open. There stood a petite and gorgeous blonde with blue eyes stepped through the door, the mortal locked eyes with Nikolai soon as Mitch shut the door.
"Twice the fun tonight?" Wrapping himself around Nikolai and giving him a wink. The statement was almost laughable but Mitch kept his composure.
"Can you stand in the far corner?" Mitch barked nicely. The statement surprised the mortal, letting go of Nikolai and standing in the far corner of the room.
Mitch be positioned himself on the other far side of the room, the mortal looked confused, then the show and tell began. A major artery opened up in the mortal's neck, blood spraying in a thin line across the room and into Mitchelletto's open maw, you could hear the pressure behind the blood that poured into Mitchelletto's hungry mouth, letting him feed twice as fast. The boy was subdued as if in the throes of an actual vampire bite, after several seconds the wound closed up and the blonde regained some movement. He wobbled a little from the blood loss and a little shaken from what had just happened. Mitch made his way over to the mortal, helping him out the door. Thanking him in the process then shutting the door, leaving the two vampires alone again.
"That was called Theft of Vitae, its range is longer than just across a room and one day you can obtain this power. Do you want to see more?" Mitch made his way into the doorway of the kitchen, letting Nikolai have his space.
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He remained suspicious of Mitchelletto even after the phone call and the arrival of the human. When the boy reached out and touched him, Nikolai pushed him away coldly, tempted in his discomfort of the entire scenario to break his hands for good measure. So when the kid lost interest and followed Mitchelletto's orders instead, Nikolai rolled his eyes and watched only because he had to, thinking that it was going to be some kind of obnoxious sexual ritual. But fuck, was he wrong.
There was a vibration in the air that he could feel coming from Mitch just before the human's neck burst open. Nikolai staggered as it happened, the unexpected wound not spraying all over the place as he expected, but following a contained path towards Mitch. He watched in fascinated horror as his sire opened his mouth wide and received it all, every drop, from across the dingy little suite. Not a drop was wasted, flying through the air and when the boy wavered, Mitch was there to escort him out before Nikolai could properly process what the fuck had actually just happened. His cockiness dropped and he stared after the boy with wide-eyed shock.
"How the fuck did you just do that?" Nikolai demanded, taking a step backwards away from his sire, veins pumped full of fear and amazement.
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"Sorcerous pressure is the proper term, our blood sorcery allows us to do far more than just that little trick," he said non-chalanetly. Studying Nikolai's face and Mitch liked what he had seen and liked what he felt through the bond. Amazement. The fear that Nikolai also felt was to be expected, but he did not think a reaction of amazement would be there too. Mitch was about as close to happy that you would get to an old evil fuck and he decided to show Nikolai more, that one was an at-will command, this one needed a ritual and his blood.
"Wait here," asking rather than commanding it through the bond, striding off into the bedroom only to appear moments later.
He had a small mirror in his hand, getting close to Nikolai but not too close, he didn't want to scare away that feeling of amazement, only to show him the mirror in his right hand, he then bit down into the fleshy part of his hand, blood pooling over the mirror. Mitch began to chant an incantation in a language that Nikolai would not understand, then he broke the mirror but he held onto a piece in his hand and achieved an incorporeal state right in front of Nikolai, a ghost-like image. Floating away from Nikolai he went through tables, chairs and even the wall and back.
"This one is a ritual known as Incorporeal Passage. You can still speak and see in this form but you can't interact physically with the material world. You can't change directions when you pass through walls and you can't return to the material world inside solid matter, you could be intombed in a wall or have an ashtray through your arm," he then dropped the mirror shard and came to be a solid being once again.
"You're also immune to all damage. The sun, fire, arcane weapons and spells that damage spirits will still hurt you," kicking the broken mirror under the rug. Let the maid get it.
Mitch leaned against the wall again and waited for a reply or statement or whatever was to about to come out of Nikolai's mouth, he felt good about the progress he was making, watching his fledges face and focusing on what he felt through the bond, hidden from Nikolai.
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Somehow during Mitch's ritual, he had flattened himself against the wall, stepping farther away from his sire as he carried out these strange and uncanny abilities. Nikolai had the potential to do this too? Chains rattled in his ears, a growling building in the back of his head. The leeches, however, remained quiet, their whisperings just beyond his comprehension. He watched the display of magic with suspicion, disbelief, and shock, his lips glued together to prevent him from giving in to what Mitch wanted. It was a game, all of this. There was some ulterior motive here behind Mitch's lesson and Nikolai couldn't quite figure it out.
He had lived nearly eighty years without Mitchelletto showing an ounce of acknowledgement of - let alone interest - him. Why all of a sudden? The chance meeting at the hotel under Laurent's watch? Sudden fatherly acknowledgements of some sort of pride? No, that couldn't be it... There was something, some reason that Nikolai couldn't put his finger on. He had said himself he had no problem killing his own fledges. Why had he escaped three times now? Because of Laurent? Doubtful.
"Why," he breathed with a voice barely audible. Why was he capable of these things? Why did he want Nikolai to learn them? Why should he care about him? Why now? Why were these things possible? Why... Mitchelletto could take his pick as to what Nikolai meant - he wanted all of the answers anyway. His expression was that of a man who wanted to understand what he saw, but couldn't quite trust the answer. There was nonetheless a glimmer of curiosity hidden deep within that vibrated gently through their connection without Nikolai's consent.
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"It is your right to know about your lineage even if you want nothing to do with it," he stated simply. Aware of everything Nikolai was feeling but he did not show it on his face.
"You would have died in the clan had you been embraced in Alumut I did not lie about that, Assamites are not kind to insubordination among our ranks. Rebellious clan members are as rare as green rubies and they either submit or they do not last long," showing some insight into Mitch's cruel behaviour, it was learned from his own Sire and he was not looking for any sympathy. There was truth to his words that pooled out of his mouth, laced with a serious tone.
"It is true I have killed my own fledges, but they failed their task to become a full-fledged member and the price is death. Some pass others do not." Mitch was proof that some did survive the gruelling trials of the clan.
"You have the right to choose. And as an outsider instead of death, like I had to face. I will just stop teaching you and send you on your way," the older vampire seemed reasonable towards Nikolai, willing to work with this strange arrangement.
However his true reasoning was far more sinister than Nikolai could ever imagine, however the formula to achieve that goal was a bit of a hit and miss. Mitch found out quickly that he could not use love or loyalty, Nikolai had none for him, well at least not yet anyway. That left faith and brainwashing with fear being the surprise component, too much and Nikolai freaked out, not enough and it didn't seem to hold his interest. Proud he had not broken his composer, so far.
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Nikolai, with all of his hatred and fury and suspicion, felt that draw to Mitchelletto, some inescapable pull in his blood towards him. Not an active thing, not right now, but something that linked them together away from others, something that must have always been there before but distance - and ignorance - had prevented him from recognizing the other vampire for what he was. He maintained his distance from the other vampire despite the discomfort of it.
His first instinct had been to question whether Mitchelletto was truly his sire - one brief night of fucking and drinking and overdosing was really all it took to create another? The vampire was gone when he had awoken on the hotel room floor in a dried puddle his own vomit, his throat aching and senses reeling. He remembered smoking a cigarette and dry heaving in the toilet for what felt like hours before the thirst drove him out to the lobby, where he sucked the reception desk help dry and took off into the night, terrified.
There had been so much that he hadn't known and had to discover on his own - how much to drink, how to hide bodies, how to avoid sunlight, how to contain himself around humans, how to not kill them in the first place... Mitch had been a distant thought after those first few weeks as he put as much distance between himself and Chicago as he could geographically get within the States. Now he was older, established, without thought of the man who created him nearly one hundred years ago, yet face-to-face with him and all of the unanswered questions that had escaped him.
A flash of indecision flickered through him. He wanted nothing more to do with Mitchelletto than he absolutely had to have. The only person he hated more than his sire, in fact, was the demon on the fourth floor who played him like a puppet. But these powers... Nikolai thought back to the past few weeks of torture and insult, mental slavery. Would he have been able to fight Laurent better with these skills in his arsenal?
The leeches seized him by the throat, paralyzing him until the thought passed, whispering in his ears about his servitude, threatening to send him to his knees in front of his sadistic sire, reminding him of all the things he was good at there. He stiffened, muscles tightening in his chest and a grunt escaping pressed lips. When he was released after a few moments of pressure, the leeches sliding back into the deep flesh of his brain, Nikolai asked the one question that bothered him more than any others.
"Why do you have the ability to call me back to you?" He glowered at his sire.
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Mitch was aware of the indecision that arose from Nikolai and that pleased him greatly, that was short-lived by the leeches that plagued his sanity, this would not do. Nikolai needed concentration. What to do? He wondered if perhaps through their blood bond he could lessen the leeches, a full removal if possible at all could be viewed as suspicious. It was a hard dilemma and one he could not solve right now, his fledge was talking and that is what was needed, to keep the conversation going.
"Every Sire does, if you embraced someone of your blood you would have the same ability. Comes from the whole I'm your maker yada yada," he was sure Nikolai got the point.
His composure was inviting towards Nikolai, free from the restraint of asking whatever question he wished. His shoulders sagged in a relaxed position, shifting his weight and getting more comfortable against the wall. Mitch still didn't reach out through the bond but he was aware of everything Nikolai was still feeling.
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The idea of binding someone to him the way that he was bound to Mitch made him wrinkle his nose and clench his teeth. So every vampire felt that way? Was that why vampires always felt so attached to their makers? The image of Pierre and Damien came to mind, their friendship and trust in each other so compelling that Pierre would do anything for the elder. The invasive thought of doing Mitch's biddings willingly slid through his awareness briefly before being rejected fiercely.
"So these... abilities," he began cautiously, disliking how interested his tone was immediately, "Why can your clan do these things and other bloodlines can't? What makes your bloodline so special?"
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"There are three castes to the Assamites," he began. "One is the warrior caste, defenders of the clan, the second is the vizier, deep in politics and librarians of sorts and the third is your lineage, the sorcerer caste, we are the Magi of the clan, magic wielders." Giving Nikolai a small and short lesson about his clan without boring the boy with much detail.
"Our caste," hating the word bloodline, "is special because we can practice a form of sorcery that predates most magic from other clans thanks to our founder called Dur-an-Ki."
"You also have a variety of paths to choose from, that Balefire I produced last time you were here is one path to choose. Its called Lure of Flames," stopping their to let Nikolai digest the information he had been fed.
Mitch kept studying Nikolai with calm composure, he wanted Nikolai to feel comfortable, let his guard down enough that his hate might subside for Mitch, he hoped. The game had gone well so far and he was delighted at the progress, even if it was just talking and answering questions.
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He snorted in contempt. "You expect me to believe that I can just... produce magic? Just because you choked me out on a hotel room floor and killed me, I can produce fucking magic same as you?"
His research had brought him to quite a few terms he hadn't understood and Nikolai lacked the connections to learn more on his own. Assamites, yeah he had heard that one before. That was Mitch's clan. Vampires from the middle east who were considered a breed of assassins or some shit. But the bloodlines - castes? - had different abilities, wants, ranks? This was all bullshit as far as he was concerned.
Still he had been faced with the undeniable fact that Mitch could have burned him alive with fire that suddenly appeared in his possession, the memory of which still woke him up during the day. At the time he had no possible clue how something like that had happened. Vampires were weakened by fire; the last thing that Nikolai would have ever expected was to face another vampire who wielded it in his bare hand. Unconsciously, Nikolai inched away from the other.
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"For one, what do you remember about that night? And two yes. But I think the air should be cleared on question one before I show you more," it clearly was a sore subject for Nikolai.
Mitchelletto couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at Nikolai's statement, did he really think that was the main goal that night? To kill him? What all did he actually remember in his haze? Is that why Nikolai hated Mitch because he abandoned him? These were all things Mitch could play to his advantage, yes Mitch had abandoned him. That was true, he didn't want Alumut to know he had sired an outsider, much less a westerner, he was deep in the Sabbat at the time, any sort of disturbance and his elders from Alumut would have called him back. So he ignored the bond that appeared, hoped he was a thin-blood, left and never turned back or gave it any more thought.
Now, he was free to leave like his own brothers since they had gone to the Camarilla, however, he was displaced since the Sabbat had been called to fight their elders, but free nonetheless.
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Nikolai scoffed at him. Was he serious?
"I remember looking to score and finding you in some shitty dive. You promised me some powder and a good time, so I followed you back to some fleabag motel, where I thought you and I got fucked up. You fucked me and fed from me savagely."
The last clear thing he remembered was the teeth sinking into the flesh of his throat rapturously at first, and then agonizing. From there everything was spotty. The first time he tried to remember, before he realized what the hell he actually was, Nikolai naturally assumed his blacking out was from when Judas had taken over, protecting him as he did from an attack. He remembered pain like nothing he had ever felt before pumping hard through every inch of his body, Mitch's smile above him, the squelch of flesh between his teeth, the delightful taste of blood - and then blackness deeper than sleep. He had no better answers upon waking than he did before he went under. It had taken him years to fully discover what had happened to him, putting fragmented pieces of his own experience together with found bits of information from other vampires or resources. All he truly had were assumptions, educated guesses based on his own behaviors and what must have happened at the time.
"I fought back and took your blood," he assumed boldly, passing it to Mitchelletto as the truth he had accepted. "I'm only here today because of your stupidity in taking too much blood from me."
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"You are right," he began. "You did come to me looking to score, we did get fucked up and we did have a good time," assuring Nikolai that part of the story was true.
"And I did not savagely feed from you, it was to satisfy you. We were so high I wanted to have a taste, knowing you wouldn't notice anything but pleasure," Nikolai was old enough and aware a vampires bite could be pleasurable or painful.
"But I overfed," not commenting on Nikolai's stupidity remark, "and you started to overdose and quiver from lack of blood. I gave you some of my blood to bring you back, I think I was smiling, encouraging you... but then you started to puke, hard, and you started to choke. I pushed on your stomach to force more up to clear your throat. When that didn't work I tried to stick my fingers down your throat to clear your airway, still choking on your vomit and my blood and then you just relaxed like you were gone," it was a simple fact. Nothing more.
"I left the room and when I felt the connection I panicked and left the area, left you alone," some of that was true. He left the room but he did not feel bad leaving Nikolai alone and presumably dead, but he did panic when he felt the bond, that was true.
This was one of the rare times Mitch told the truth, present in the back of his mind that Nikolai could make Mitch show him the memory, to verify his story. Yet Mitch was not sure if Nikolai knew they could share memories of the past with one another, chess not checkers was the game. He needed his trust and if he had to tell the truth this would be the right moment to do it. To gain his trust so the experiment could begin.
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The more he listened, the more he wanted to lash out at him, those words washing through him like acid.
"No."
There was no debate, Nikolai decided. Mitchelletto was lying and there was nothing else to it. This was just one more stupid game of his, another step towards controlling him. The last thing he would let the older vampire do is take away the base of his hatred for him.
"You're lying," he hissed and spat at Mitch's feet, stepping away from the wall and daring to walk by him, though cutting him a margin to avoid him as he did so. Sire bond be damned. They were done and Nikolai was trying to contain the shaking of his arms.
-
Mitch allowed Nikolai to throw his tantrum when he was hit with the truth, not a bald-faced lie but the frustrating truth, letting the boy pass him without moving at all. Mitch felt pride swell up inside in as Nikolai came to terms with the truth, that was hidden from Nikolai, a neutral look on his face. He wasn't going to say anything about sharing memories, but he had Nikolai on the ropes. This would be perfect to solidify what had truly gone on that night.
"Do you want me to show you? I can share memories with you, and no I can't do it all the time. It is taxing on my mind," that was a lie. He could share whatever he wanted from the past but it was apparent Nikolai did not know, and Mitch wanted to keep him in the dark.
-
Without meaning to, Nikolai paused after Mitch spoke about sharing memories, a ball of hatred so hot in his chest it made his skin prickle. He shot him a disgusted grimace. "What's your angle? Why are you telling me this, huh? Haven't you dragged me down far enough with this shit? What, you have no one else to play with so you have to be the repentant father figure?" What could that possibly matter now? He was supposed to believe that Mitch had tried to save him from death? What next, he had searched for him, but couldn't find him? He wanted nothing more than to kick the shit out of him, to give him a taste of his own medicine, but he remembered the last time he had tried such things easily.
But what if everything that Nikolai knew about what happened that night was wrong?
Nikolai's head twitched to the side as the first chain strapping Judas down wrenched free. White noise sounded in his head, building slowly with terrifying power. He didn't even care if Mitch saw at this point, confident that his sire knew about his insanity already.
"It doesn't matter either way." Nikolai tried to walk out the door, doing his best to ignore the immediate discomfort of parting from Mitch's presence.
-
"It does matter, you have a right to know about your lineage, a right to learn. Has no one told you you have a right to something?" Postioning himself between the door to exit and Nikolai, his gaze was serious but his voice was soft towards the young boy, feeling that other entity close to coming to the surface, not yet. He needed more time with Nikolai.
"I did not search for you because I had hoped you had been a thin-blood. I'm not looking for your forgiveness or for you to let go of your hate," its actually what Mitch wanted and he felt he was close to his goal.
"You have a right to hate me, I did abandon you, but as I said in Alumut you would have died. But I am willing to teach you now and you won't have to face death for failure as I did," just some extreme corporal punishment. Killing him would be no fun at all, all that was kept from Nikolai.
-
He tossed his head back and laughed heartily without the mirth to accompany it. "Out of the kindness of your heart, is that it? Because I deserve it?" Nikolai dug in his pockets for his cigarettes, pulled one out and lit it with a plastic lighter, blowing the smoke in Mitch's face. He stared hard into the other's face while he took another drag.
"You gonna let me go if I say 'no' to your offer," Nikolai blew another mouthful of smoke into the elder's face and added cynically, "Dad?" He knew what the answer was already and waited for Mitch to show his true goal. He wasn't letting Nikolai go until he got what he wanted. Whatever it was.
-
Mitch did nothing as the little shit kept pushing buttons, he did not lose his composer, a neutral expression still on his face; once Mitch had a goal in mind he did not waiver from it. Nikolai gave Mitch valuable practice with his own skills tonight, he wanted to beat the shit of the boy, but he had reframed from doing just that, proud that he was still able to weasel himself into the lives of others. His insides were doing happy little summersaults, hidden all from Nikolai.
"It is your right," he repeated. "Yes you do deserve it. And how can I let you go when you are unwilling to try?" Throwing a question back at him with ease.
"You try and actually try then I'll let you go," that was a lie. He would never let Nikolai go, but if he could instill some false hope then perhaps Nikolai would stop fighting him, at least a little, the boy seemed curious and he had not walked out which was a bonus for Mitch.
-
He sucked on his teeth, making an audible sound like a tsk. Here it was at last. Nikolai glared at him, rocking back on his heels, fighting with his own anger. There was no point to it, nothing he could do as long as Mitch wanted him there - that bit he understood all too perfectly by now.
"Guess I don't have a fucking choice then, do I?" He shoved his free hand in his jeans pocket and flicked the ashes of his cigarette onto the floor.
"Well, what are you gonna teach me today, Dad?" There was a cold smirk on his face as he gestured generally to the middle of the room. "Or was that as far as your little plan had gone?" There was a bit of satisfaction at being able to push his buttons even in his subservience. What he wouldn't give to sink his nails into Mitch's neck and tear that charming face from his body.
-
"Well I was going to teach you A Taste for Blood son. But I have something better," he jested back. Narrowing his eyes at Nikolai signalling that he needed to get serious, blood sorcery was not a game.
"First," retreating away from Nikolai and dipping briefly into his room, blunt in his lips, a pack of smokes and a lighter. Plopping himself down on the couch, now lighting the blunt. "Blood sorcery or Dur-An-Ki as we Assamites call it. Is being able to twist your own blood into submission and no mortal can wield magic this way."
"I am going to teach you Corrosive Vitae today, you can alter your own blood and make it highly corrosive to dead objects, making them into sludge. You can even weaken alloys and steel," puffing on the joint and rolling it in his fingers as he spoke to Nikolai.
-
He ignored the clapback, though being referred to as his 'son' did make him lick the backs of his teeth and clamp his jaw shut. Nikolai watched him from where he stood, refusing to follow him unless forced to. Mitch's words were becoming mildly confusing - Dur-An-Ki, twisting blood into submission, dead objects, Vitae - and he tried to pick up the context clues and not get caught up in the details.
"How can blood chew through metal?" He was becoming annoyed at how many ridiculous skills this fucking bloodline could have. He knew better than to doubt that it would happen, but the idea of blood rotting a ipe was utterly ludicrous.
-
"By altering your own vitae," he repeated. Guessing Nikolai was not fully aware of the terms that were used in his caste. Taking another huge blast off his blunt, he made no notion to try and control Nikolai.
"Vampire blood its called vitae and it is the source of our power," his tone inviting towards Nikolai, "it is what enables us to live, caught between the worlds of the living and the dead. And why we must drink the blood of the living, we can not create our own vitae."
"What happens after we ingest human blood is our bodies turn it into something crucial for our survival. Similar to how the human body breaks down food for energy," taking the last puff off the blunt before mashing it onto the ashtray.
"If you have mental or other physical skills," since Nikolai had been Caitiff he had no clue what skills he had, " just do the same with your blood. Submit your blood to your will," hoping that explanation would suffice.
-
Nikolai stayed quiet, not sure he understood fully. He could move fast because he could; there was no thought or command of will there. There was no awareness there, just like there was no awareness when he drank to heal himself.
Vitae.
So his own vampiric nature that inhabited his blood? And there was just supposed to be some way of harnessing that and using it to do whatever he wanted? If it was as simple as sheer willpower, Nikolai would have done it already.
"I don't get it," he answered stubbornly. "What do you do? Physically to control this... vitae nonsense? You want me to try, then show me how."
-
"First you are going to have to get used to this," barely pulling on the blood bond careful not to spook Nikolai. "If can you feel how I control my blood it'll make better sense," opening up the connection to Nikolai. Free to feel his blood but nothing more, his mind and memories locked away from his prying fingers.
"The more vitae we use the weaker we feel, and the urge we feel to feed increases. We have a limited amount of vitae to help when it comes to our spell work, the less energy you have the less you have to work with and you NEED to be in an altered state. Mediation, dance, pain and drugs are common forms to use, remember that." Mitch conveyed his lesson in a serious manner, biting his tongue, not mentioning the brat prince that left him that nasty black scar on his chest.
Mitchelletto began to move his blood in his corrupt elder veins and it was similar to how the Ventrue used their discipline Fortitude, moving their blood to generate a type of interior armour for protection. An iron grip abruptly appeared over Mitchelletto's own blood, as if trying to tame a wild horse, his vitae violently thrashing against his will, squirming and twitching hard to break from Mitchelleto's sheer force of submission. Mitchelletto let his grip slip a few times to show Nikolai that one must be confident in their command over their blood, or you could lose your chance to cast a spell or ritual altogether. Mitch had been successful in making his blood submit to his will and Nikolai had felt everything, over five hundreds of years of exemplary practice could be felt waiting to be released.
Mitch had finally moved from his stance of leaning against the wall, looking for an object to turn into sludge and preferably something metal. Turning his attention towards the kitchen, opening some drawers and to his delight grabbed a spoon while twirling it in his hands. His blood calling to be released onto to the dead object as Mitch ambled towards Nikolai, stopping at a safe distance. He once again bit the fleshy part of his palm, reopening the wound and allowed it to flow over the spoon. His blood would feel thick and sap-like to Nikolai, a feeling of putrefaction was apparent in Mitch's state of mind as the spoon corroded immediately in his hand, turning to into a state between a solid and a liquid.
"You want to touch it?" Holding out the spoon to Nikolai for assessment if he so chooses to take it. Appearing to Nikolai as a patient teacher towards his own blood, giving the illusion he was only cruel when he was not teaching about his clan and that was a bold-faced lie.
-
The tug on the tether between them caught him off guard and he narrowed his eyes on Mitch, withdrawing unconsciously from him. Every moment that Mitchelletto reminded him of who had sired him, Nikolai wanted to spit poison at him. As the sensation of being opened to his sire became stronger, he grimaced but responded to the new connection nonetheless, sitting passenger to Mitch's demonstration reluctantly. Nikolai had - stupidly, he realized now - thought that it would be a visual display of ability, not a psychic one. It set his jaw hard and a hiss began somewhere near his left ear.
As Mitchelletto invited him in to watch his blood move, Nikolai was instantly overwhelmed by a power he had never seen before. This forceful control over the vitae, the strength to wield his own immortality and shape it to his will, made the hair on the back of Nikolai's neck raise. He could feel the struggle in Mitch's blood, vibrating along the thin connection between them and he couldn't help but watch the vampire before him with wide, distrustful eyes. All of his former sneer and attitude had disappeared as he studied the signals from Mitchelletto. It was the submission of the beast that interested Nikolai the most.
He felt the sludge in his sire's veins, the sharp pinch of pain as his teeth opened his own flesh. It was an eerie thing that he wanted to distance himself from. When Mitchelletto held out the melted spoon, he took it cautiously. The metal was soft, and bubbled, glowing warmly and threatening to drip as it cooled.
Tentatively Nikolai tried to do what Mitchelletto had shown him - like pinning a fish to the bottom of a river bed with his bare hands. He missed, feeling the lingering sensation of controlling his own immortality - vitae? - deep within. The sensation wasn't dissimilar to the thirst that clung to the back of his throat and propelled him forward into a human's neck, or the snake-like hiss that erupted from his mouth when he felt threatened in the past. Animalistic self-perseverance mixed with a deep force of life - his own life. He didn't look to his sire for help or advice, but backed off immediately as soon as his failed at capturing the beast. As he pulled back from his attempt, a spasm of pain flashed through the side of his head, forcing his eyes closed for a brief moment.
"Why do you have to be in an altered state?" He asked lowly, pinching the bridge between his eyes as the spasm stretched dirty little fingers throughout his head.
-
"It's needed to focus our blood sorcery magic. And certain rituals or paths can not be discovered or wielded without the help of transcendental means. We use a drug called Kalif to put us in a sort of trance to acquire particular rituals or paths," knowing Nikolai wouldn't be happy to hear about spirits, illusions or apparitions being involved with their magic. He might be happy to hear he had to be high. Maybe?
"Every Assamite is unique. You could have one hundred sorcerers cast Lure of Flames and each one would have a different method in accomplishing their objective. And why? Because spirits or if you are powerful enough to covenant with a God are unique in their own instructions," studying Nikolai's face as Mitch continued with his education.
"I can show you the tools to succeed but I can't do it for you, even though we share blood its different than mine," Nikolai was not going to like being reminded they share the same blood but it was easier to keep it simple rather than dance around the frustrating truth.
-
"A god? Really?" He rolled his eyes. Of course there would be some made-up deity combined with this shit. At least there were drugs involved. Hopefully they would allow him to reach some sort of pinnacle of insanity in order to deal with this nonsense.
He looked down at the spoon again, running his thumb over the grooved and bubbled metal. The sharp, electric pain in his head had settled into something gnawing instead, a throbbing in his left ear like a heartbeat. Nikolai did his best to ignore it and closed his eyes, readying himself to try again.
There was that dissociative feeling again, like retracting from his own skin, shedding it much like a snake. With another mental hand, he reached into that same river as before, relaxing fingers until he felt his prey. The vitae was like some current deep in the river, some conveyer belt of energy. Nikolai brushed against it and a sensation like panic surged through him, rattling the chains around Judas again. Instinctively he retracted himself and almost returned to his skin... but something told him to stay. So again he dipped his hands back in the river, carefully, knowing what he was looking for now, hovered above the current. There was a moment of hesitation where he feared the lurching panic that would undoubtedly flow through him again, but he plunged on before the thought could sway him.
When he made his grip on the thing in him, needles pushed into his flesh and the deafening screech in his head began. Mitchelletto would notice a grimace and groan, his weight falling more heavily against the wall he leaned on. But his eyes remained closed as he struggled to close his will around the thing that made him immortal. Just like he had felt through his connection with his sire, the vitae bucked his grasp hard, threatening to topple Nikolai completely from his own consciousness. It was a wild thing, slippery and powerful. In the end, the vitae won and forced its way out of Nikolai's grip.
The younger vampire opened his eyes and steadied himself with a curse against the wall. His legs shook and the pain that had shot through his head like a bullet before now exploded like a grenade. Groaning and swaying, he grappled his way to the couch and dropped himself onto it in a sitting position, burying his face in the cushions to avoid the light which was only making the screaming worse. Judas broke a chain and there was so much laughter and mirth from somewhere he couldn't find. Nikolai swore again, forgetting entirely about the other vampire in the room for a minute. He breathed a trail of curses and nonsensical words as the madness threatened him.
He laughed, brisk and mirthless. "Altered state, huh? You caught me on the one fucking night I'm sober."
-
Mitch paid no mind to Nikolai's snooty remark on Gods. Normal sane vampires would have swelled up with pride seeing a beginner attempt to wrestle with his own vitae. That satisfaction that their own vitae would now succeed where their mortal blood have merely failed. Not Mitch. The curiosity that crept upon his face cloaked the darker meaning behind his inquisitive stare, the boy was trying and for the most part receptive to Mitchelletto's instructions. Paying close attention through the bond how Nikolai would fare at a second undertaking to tame his wild vitae, alarm and uncertainty were all common for any individual grasping for blood sorcery the first time. Mitch was pleased he didn't have to coax Nikolai into a second endeavour but it generated consequences that genuinely surprised the elder vampire.
Nikolai's body quivered against the wall with overwhelming distress yet Nikolai pushed on but still failed in the end. However, the information Mitch received through the bond was a trauma that rattled his bones with pleasure, it was the entity. Observing Nikolai in his twitch of distress knowing if Motch went to help it would end up in failure, this was a success in his depraved mind and he would let Nikolai suffer on his own.
Could it be that Nikolai's terrorizing embrace had formulated an extra amount of forced strength onto his blood sorcery? Or it is that Nikolai's embrace was devastating to the point he created an identity for his vitae?! Mitchelletto kept all this to himself and not sharing a single impression across the blood bond. But his mesmerizing questions to himself that we're cut short by a statement that shouldn't have been possible, he was sober?!
"What?!" Mitch cawed crisply at Nikolai. Losing his composure for a mere second, his tone mixed with disbelief matched with a wide-open stare and yet Mitch knew it not to be a lie.
"If you're sober... what you just did should not have happened, the fact you can find your vitae sober is impressive," rubbing his chin in a serious manner. It was factual statement nothing further, and whether Nikolai took it as recognition to his surprising capabilities was left up to him.
"You can not be sober if you want to utilize your blood sorcery capabilities, you will fail each time. Even you can find the source of your powers like you just did, you will not be able to manipulate them to your will and that's the cold hard truth. Try to keep something on you at all times and if you HAVE to be sober merely look sober," like he had done when he went for his meeting with Zeus. Keeping that thought from Nikolai.
Mitch came to be hesitant about offering drugs to Nikolai in a hotel room, for Mitch it was causing Deja Vu for the older vampire. He did not want to freak Nikolai out and end the lesson, not when Mitch has made far more progress than he would have anticipated for tonight. Mitch would give him drugs if Nikolai wanted to proceed and he wanted Nikolai to succeed tonight but only for personal notes for Mitch's experimentation justifications. If Nikolai could uncover his vitae abilities sober what could he do under the influence?
-
"Yeah, well," Nikolai grunted, his face still buried in the cushion. His emotionless praise offered him nothing. Thirst pulled at the soft tissues in his throat, and the throbbing scream in his ear blew out one eardrum. "Unless you got something to fix this, I'm done."
He didn't like the idea of asking for anything from Mitchelletto, but if he wanted him to continue doing this voodoo-assassin-witchcraft bullshit, Nikolai would need something. The thought of blood laced with heroin, warm in his mouth made his jaw quake. He didn't even care if Mitch felt the craving - being as depraved as he was, that kind of a craving probably meant nothing to him. Fuck it, he thought, thinking about this Kalif that Mitchelletto had mentioned. Whatever it took to make the ringing stop.
-
"I know what you need. Try not to pass out," Mitch has a special treat in store for Nikolai from his new pal Apep. The demons venom he had acquired weeks earlier, that sexy encounter fresh in his mind.
Walking off towards his bedroom he rummaged around for a needle and the vial of snake venom. Nikolai would need blood before Mitch injected the toxin directly into his veins, holding the needle and vial in one hand he proceeded to the kitchen, threw some baggies in the microwave, having Nikolai drink from a donar was too risky. Mitch did not want to ruin his track record for zero kills in the hotel, a disappointment but he agree to the terms set by Laurent.
The microwave beeped, grabbing the bags and sloshing the blood around to even out the temperature. He made his way over to Nikolai and bent down at the couch, "Here take this and try not to drink too fast," holding out the bag for Nikolai to easily grab in his state.
"You need more? I'm not giving you this until you have sufficient blood in your system," brining Nikolai's attention the needle and vial if he hadnt noticed by now.
-
He was barely aware of Mitchelletto leaving the room, too focused on keeping his seat on the couch from being usurped by another. Nikolai held fast to the sensation of his pain as Judas wriggled in his container. Laughter that turned his stomach - he was incapable of telling if it was Judas or Laurent's shadowy leeches. Either way he kept his face buried deep, avoiding the light as nausea crept upon him and thirst stung his mouth.
The smell of warmed blood - bagged, he knew - reached him, he could feel that Mitchelletto was next to him again and offering him that disgusting bag. His head wouldn't let him refuse it and so Nikolai's arm shot out and snatched the first bag from his sire's hand. With eyes squinted closed against the intensity of the soft lighting in the suite, he tore into the bag and gulped it as fast as he could, easing that awful scratching in his esophagus. He surfaced with reddened lips and opened his eyes only once the first bag was completely drained and the blood had begun to work on his head.
It was then that he saw the needle and the vial filled with a vivid green liquid in Mitchelletto's hand.
"What the fuck is that?" Fear, anger, and intrigue mixed together in his his expression as he studied Mitchelletto closely.
In all of his years, Nikolai had become intimately familiar with a lot of drugs and compounds. Hell, he had tried most of them himself. He knew all their names, all their forms, all their highs. But he had never set eyes on any drug that looked like that before. The idea excited some deep part of him that always liked the chase of the high and ideas of being strung out on something new played passingly in his head. Had that needle and vial been in anyone else's hands, he probably wouldn't have hesitated.
"Fuck you, you're not putting that in me." His eyes moved from the needle up to Mitch and back again. "Get me a warm body - I've got enough smack on me."
-
"This is better than your smack," carefully looking over Nikolai as the blood had taken some effect on his physique.
An eerie silence had fallen over Mitch. Contemplating whether he should call up a donor or two for Nikolai instead of giving him more bagged blood, the last thing he wanted was the boy to lose restraint, if they weren't at the hotel he wouldn't have given a damn. Mitch preferred to hurt his human targets, you could taste a variety of different blood resonances if you drink deep enough. It rises to the surface with an intense taste on your tongue, initially coming through as pictures, whispers or even feelings of unresolved trauma or that foolish emotion called hope, pathetic. And a fresh kill will always give the strongest, most lasting taste than a little sheep donor brought to your door and the temptation was always there.
In time Nikolai would learn in time that blood types are expressed as resonances and unless your only looking to survive or fuel it was important to care what prey to feed from and how. Similar to fine dining for vampires with cultivated taste, like aged beef or drinking an outstanding wine.
There were four types or humors that go back to ancient Egyptian and Babylonian medicine, but they were coded for the West around 400 B.C. Choleric, Melancholy, Phlegmatic, and Sanguine were the proper terms, but for the less scholarly and extra hungry it was angry, sad, lazy and horny.
Choleric focuses on feeling and it relied on the hormone adrenaline which could be produced by anger, violence, bullying, passion or even being envious. Melancholy focuses on thinking and relies on the thyroid hormone which could be produced by being sad, scared, being intelligent, depressed, and someone who is naturally grounded. Phlegmatic focuses on intuition and relies on the hormone pituitary which can be produced through being lazy, apathetic, calm, controlling or even being sentimental. Sanguine focuses on sensation which relies on testosterone and estrogen hormones, through being horny, happy, addicted, flighty and enthusiastic.
There are three temperaments, fleeting, intense and acute to invoke a blood resonance. A fleeting temperament occurs at the moment thanks too momentary stimuli. Humans in basic emotional equilibrium or well-adjusted humans experience fleeting bursts of all four resonances in their day to day lives. An intense temperament indicates a human is incredibly strong to one or another blood resonance, this connection might have to do with mental illness, past trauma, blood addiction or just a very active reward loop; a good looking person who enjoys sex can easily become Sanguine thanks to seeking thrill and getting their kicks in every night. An acute blood resonance is so intense that it creates a self-sustaining reaction within the blood and vampires called this Dyscrasia or bad mixture to refer to this effect but young vampire shit heads not educated in alchemy and hematology it was referred to as a clot.
Each humor or resonance can blend with a vampires blood to energize and boost their disciplines, Melancholy blood boosts Fortitude and Obfuscate. Sanguine blood boosts Blood Sorcery and Presence to name a few examples, all that Nikolai would learn if he was a good little boy like he was being now.
"Can you drink from a human without killing it?" Finally breaking the awful and deafening silence between the two.
-
The insinuation was utterly moronic. "Of course I can," he snapped back at the question. And then without thinking he added, "No thanks to you."
Apprehension lingered in his chest, thinking about how dangerous it would be to trust anything coming from Mitchelletto - especially some kind of mystery drug. There he was again - in some hotel room thinking about trusting and relying on Mitch's expectations where his life balanced in the middle, dangling from his own hands. "What the fuck is that?" He repeated with a nod, seeing how the elder vampire avoided his question conveniently.
-
"Scaeri venom," answering the shit heads question, "its gives you an intense high, like crack cocaine injected straight from the vial but its short." His voice steady and relaxed towards Nikolai.
"Or if you want a longer-lasting high you just mix it with some blood but it won't be as intense of a high. And you don't need to inject it into a human first but you can," finally moving from his position to call up a donor, once Nikolai had some more nourishment then he would let Nikolai try this foreign drug.
Grabbing the phone in the kitchen and ringing up the front desk to send up another mortal, hanging up the phone and shortly after there was a knock at the door. Striding over to the door and allowing the mortal inside and pointing him in the direction of Nikolai, the young brunette with golden eyes sat down next to Nikolai with his neck exposed for Nikolai to drink.
-
He watched Mitch move away from him and considered his options silently.
He had tried crack when it had first hit the streets of Miami and liked it immensely, despite the twitches and worsened hallucinations it gave him. But the euphoria - hard and fast like a good fuck. Nikolai closed his eyes and remembered, Judas growling darkly. Chasing that first great high had been his sole purpose for a few months before other drugs had distracted him enough to pull him away. It was the skin itching and violent humans that made him give it up - drinking end up with too many kills that he had difficulty hiding. And then there was the problem of his own violence - but not blackout violence, just the manic, uncontrolled violence for no reason. He was always irresponsible and unpredictable on crack. But fuck, was it good.
But this was from Mitchelletto. And it wasn't crack - it was Scaeri venom... or so Mitch claimed. Which meant that the situation would be too unpredictable to be so wild and high. No, his best option - if he had to go through with it - would be to melt down some smack and shoot it into the human and feed. Then at least he could control some of the components of the night.
There was a hesitation, though, as he thought about his former desire to visit Awelfor Manor. So far, Nikolai had managed two miserable nights of sobriety and for what? To visit a ghost of a memory? To taunt himself with an empty house and an angry shore which had surely swallowed up the one good part of this city--
His head snapped to the right with a groan and Judas shifted himself out of the last chain that restrained him, slithering like smoke to caress the inside of Nikolai's head. Greyness threatened in a tsunami wave and Nikolai tried to stay afloat. He was vaguely aware of taking the needle and vial from Mitch, the fingers numb and unfeeling. His hold on his own skin was slipping and he knew it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to his own madness. Another wild twist of his head, another wave threatening to drown him.
Nikolai could remember pulling the human's arm onto his lap, filling the syringe with the entirety of the venom and jabbing it roughly into the boy's veins. There was a yelp of pain and fear that finally loosened Nikolai from his own consciousness, Judas clawing his way up to the surface.
Judas watched the syringe empty, pinching the kid's arm with a harsh grip like a tourniquet as the venom pushed its way in at the crux of his elbow. His mouth watered and Judas waited until the human was in his euphoric swoon before making his move. In one swift motion, Judas was on the boy's lap with knees facing the back of the couch and his face buried in that tender neck, drinking deep of the blood that would let him get control of himself and this vitae.
The drink was not a sensual one, evidenced by the groans and whimpers of the human beneath him, but Judas bucked his hips nonetheless, grinding a new hardness against his own pants as he drank deeply. There was no corresponding bulge in the human's pants, yet he moved as if to coax one into being. Joy clenched at his heart instantly and he wanted to laugh, his erection thickening, his mood lifted significantly. With ruby lips, he released the drowsy human and let him slump along the couch as Judas stood, his dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans. The smirk he offered Mitchelletto was tainted with hatred.
-
Mitchelletto froze outright with enthusiasm, daring not to move a single muscle, enjoying the transformation through the bond, enjoying the feeling of Nikolai battling to stay conscious and Mitch did not reach out... to Nikolai? Standing perfectly still to the predator that loomed near him currently, glints and flashes of Nikolai gradually evaporating, his fingers frigid reaching for the vial and syringe, and Mitch let it go voluntarily into Nikolai's custody. A violent crack of thunder rolled through Mitch as the mortal boy cried out in pain, Nikolai no longer existed in this time period and it thrilled the older vampire. Permitting his fledge to have free range of the mortal who attained a state of bliss relatively fast, the mortal's sobs did nothing to shake Judas from his feeding and Mitch watched with glee at the actions of the youth; mortals were cattle and slaves and should be treated as such.
"You want to try again?" Looking past the entity in front of him to take a sneak peek at the mortal. Good still breathing. Returning his full attention to Judas now that he knew the mortal was alive.
Mitchelletto disregarded hate rolling off this entity in waves, lips stained with blood and that teasing erection pleased Mitch. Remaining steady and reasonable towards this new character, wondering if this entity would play ball like Nikolai or would he have to start the game all over again?
-
His chest was so full of a sensual bliss he felt like he was going to float away. Even the leeches in his mind floated, squirming uselessly in the space between his thoughts. There was music playing from somewhere down the hall, a full symphony of an elegant waltz and it gave the room a blue shimmer, like dust. If he were into that kind of thing, Judas would have found it all very romantic.
Instead, he shot a maddened stare at Mitchelletto as he moved. Judas, however, said nothing and closed his eyes. Lights danced distractedly behind those closed lids. He became aware of the feeling of the hair on his body and thought he could feel it growing. Ignoring it (he was very good at ignoring the things that weren't actually there, thankfully), he dove into his own sternum, an image of splashing in bone-colored water filling him as he sank into himself, searching for that river that made him immortal.
Instinctually he followed the same path as he had followed before, treading across the same dirt and grass and blood until he reached...
It was an gray ocean now, rolling and churning at his ankles. Great puffs of sea mist heaved off choppy white curling tips. He could smell them. Hesitation... why was he there again? His feet led him out into the tide, his body ignoring the deep chill that winter's water brought. The sea swallowed his thighs, his hips, his chest until he had no choice but to head below, resisting his urge to breathe as the weight of the ocean pressed in around him. He opened his eyes again and could see that current by his feet once more, painted red and flowing like a river now near his feet. A river in the ocean. With a slowness he fought the buoyancy that tried to keep his head above water and reached with outstretched fingers towards that current. He dove and opened his emerald eyes to see what he could in the swirling grey. Vitae.
When at last he wrapped his hands around that thin current, the pressure on his lungs tripled and forced the air from him. It became alive in his hands, like a sea snake or water dragon, shimmying and writhing for freedom. He held on as tightly as he could, expecting to be thrown and sucked out to sea, drowned.
But as he wrapped his second arm around the thick current... the bucking stopped. There were gentle swaying with it underwater and the pressure hadn't dissipated. His chest would be crushed at this rate.
"I have it," his lips moved and voice low and dangerous emerged for Mitchelletto's sake.
-
"Good," he acknowledged the creature in a grim manner. "Pick any object in the room and you can watch what your blood can do," it was critical that Mitchelletto had some tact in how he communicated the thing before him.
His attentive gaze did not depart from Judas- unknown to Mitch that was what the entity was called- taking neat and tidy notes in his head, how it moved, the manner in which it spoke, and of course what Mitch could sense through the blood bond. All this information was vital to his long term goal of combining the two into one identity, he could not love, much less have compassion for anyone, it was a game. Everything experienced in a loving or caring manner was constantly one-sided when it came to Mitch, there was always a more sinister reason when any type of affection appeared from Mitch, and as always everyone figured it out far too late.
-
It was too difficult to think of objects in the room. He was losing the connection to his flesh, flickers of greyness threatening as he gripped his own lifeforce. Why couldn't Mitch just hand him an object to destroy? Judas steadied his hold on himself, on the vitae, and reached with physical arms and eyes shut towards anything nearby.
At first he aimed for the coffee table, hands aiming low and sluggish in his concentration at maintaining his hold. Testing the waters. When his legs wobbled and his balance threatened to give way, he stopped immediately to preserve his hold and balance and remembered the couch behind him. He swivelled deliberately and found the cheap fabric stretched on the arm of the couch beneath his fingers. Without a clear understanding of what he was doing, Judas imitated what he had seen Mitchelletto do and sliced into his own flesh of the palm of his hand with a nail on the opposite hand. Instantly, dark red blood peaked at the divide between the dead flesh and a thrumming he had never felt before echoed throughout his body. Mentally he gripped the wriggling vitae tighter, calming it while the pressure of the water on his lungs threatened to crush him.
He knew enough to pull the thing from the imaginary waters until it manifested as a physical sensation in his body. The thrumming got louder, deafening, and shook his vision as he pushed. His arm, the hand he cut throbbed painfully, swelling with the onslaught of blood travelling down. Mitchelletto would hear Judas groan between clamped teeth and see his face contort with the struggle.
Out, he thought forcefully.
And out it flowed from the palm of his hand onto the linen of the sofa. There was a significant amount of discomfort and pain, creeping down his arm but he could feel the blood moving, leaving him. The pressure on his chest stabilized and he braved a look into the physical world.
The couch beneath his hand was stained red with his blood in a small halo where he pushed and a small sizzling noise could be heard plainly. He had lost feeling of the connection between the object and his hand beyond the pain. His supernatural hearing could pick up the sound of little bits of fabric ripping, and the tension of his weight against the arm of the couch changed, sank. After a second or two more, Judas tore his arm away from the couch and released his hold on his lifeforce. The thing snapped back into him like a rubber band, leaving him stunned and slack as he stood staring at the couch.
The red patch was distinctly palm-shaped and hissing, steaming faintly as something chewed meekly through the first layer of fabric - a far cry from melting metal. His eyes widened and he took a step back, forgetting how high he was as the walls of the room wiggled in time with his steps.
"Holy fuck." He stared agape at the hole in the bloody couch, unable to tear his eyes away from the damage and the meanings it carried for him.
-
"Not terrible for your first attempt," striding towards the couch and evaluating the young vampire's work with a fascinating stare.
"Keep practicing and you might become sufficient with your vitae to corrode metal within a few weeks," touching the couch to almost persuade Mitch that the boy certainly had some potential.
It was difficult for Mitchelletto not to be turned on by the sweet smell of blood and violence, the mortal lying on the couch ignited the firey blood lust in Mitch, he couldn't help but give in to his craving and take a taste. Situating his body on the couch that forced the drowsy mortal to sit up, and helping the boy remain upright by cradling the youth and sinking his teeth into that beautiful neck. A groan of pleasure escaped the youngster's soft lips as the mortal's weak hands started pulling at Mitchelletto's waistband, trying to get at his dick; a silent cry for more enjoyment other than just his bite. But the mortal was too fragile for the type of sex Mitch craved right now, releasing the mortal and gulping down the last mouthful of blood in his jaws.
He stood with the mortal cradled in his arms, a look of confusion and grief plastered on the youths face. He had no more use for this mortal, his blood supply was dangerously low and Laurent's ridiculous rule of no killing really killed the mood in this place. Opening the door and literally throwing the mortal out his arms and into the hallway with a sickening thud, slamming the door with a cruel smile on his lips. Sauntering back over to the couch once again to fake a look of appreciation at the work Judas had done with his blood, feeling the high rush through his body like an electric taser, trying to control not breaking out an erection in front of Judas.
"You want another mortal to drug and drink from? Or are you high enough?" He asked quite plainly. Thinking it was a shame he couldn't let his fledge drain the human dry right here, a kill done together and that tickled Mitch pink although he didn't show it.
-
His eyes shifted to the older vampire as he approached, the room dancing to a tune Judas could barely hear from a source he doubted actually existed. Apprehension bled into him, but was quickly watered down by the euphoria and dreamy state of the dusky room. He stood his ground as Mitch sized up his work, almost complimenting him. Judas remained silent, watchful. The idea that his blood could corrode metal seemed more possible now that he had found out how to find and harness the thing inside him - the vitae. There was still a resistance in him to avoid the truth of what Mitchelletto could do - what he could do. It was fantastical at best.
As Mitch moved onto the mortal, the dreamlike quality of his high crystalized, causing him to smirk. Moans of pain and pleasure, the potent scent of lifeblood. A wave of arousal pressed against him and he knew instantly that it wasn't his own - though he could feel the familiarity of the sensation pulling at his own flagging groin, stirring him again. Judas breathed in the scent deeply and embraced the tether that connected him to his sire, the abuses suffered from the older vampire temporarily (and conveniently) forgotten as he tossed the human out like trash. Judas watched with glazed eyes, giving the other a once over and remembering what he had found so attractive as a human still worked on him if he let it.
He made no attempt to hide his physical reaction from the other, studying him sternly. Judas could feel the high trickling through their bond and his cock pressing against the seam of his jeans. There was some kind of tension building in his chest, an unmistakeable one growing in the pit of his belly that fueled his growing erection.
It was all a dream anyway, right?
"High enough for what?" He asked quietly with dragging blink and narrowing his focus onto the older vampire who stood only feet away from him. "You said you'd let me leave if I tried it. And I tried it, right?"
-
Mitch crossed his arms the same time he lifted his eyebrows at Judas, "Yes you tried but is that all you want to learn?" Faking a tone of confusion rather than the anger he was truly feeling. That's it! The dumb little is deciding to stop at Corrosive Vitae?! No, he needed to sweeten the deal to keep the creature's interest, he didn't care about the clan, fine. Mitch would at least keep him interested in the skills and abilities of their clan.
"You need a teacher. Especially if you want to learn our rituals and pick a path, and there are several," simply educating Judas in a stern manner that did not criticize him in any shape or form.
"The drug Kalif will reveal a path to you, but you have just discovered you can wield your blood in ways only mortals can dream of and yet you want to leave?" Uncrossing his right arm, pressing his hand to his forehead and rubbing it in confusion at his fledglings logic.
-
He watched Mitch's confusion and felt his frustration through their bond, muted. Judas took a step closer to him as he spoke. "And what?" he asked, finding the imaginary flowers blooming on Mitchelletto's shirt much more interesting than giving him attitude. His tone was dreamlike and drifting, as if he wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. It lacked his usual piss and vinegar. "You're going to teach me? Because you actually want me around you?" He looked into his sire's eyes with interest in understanding, his green eyes bloodshot and pupils large.
Without a plan, Judas hooked a finger into the top of Mitchelletto's sweatpants and pulled himself closer. His eyes fell to the shirt again, a particularly delicate looking flower spreading its petals on his sire's collar bone. Judas stared at it, their proximity bringing a carnal warmth to his abdomen and a satisfying comfort that stemmed from that blood bond that connected them. With shaky fingers, Judas reached out and played with the petals, fingers going right through to land on his sire's chest instead. Judas gave him a huff of laughter, fingering the morphing plant.
-
Now, this was a fascinating twist that Mitch did not anticipate coming forth at all, hatred for his creator dropping at an alarming rate, and all of it thrilled him to the point of actual glee. Mitch stared back at Judas with a soft gaze, his voice sounded like he was in a trance, his green eyes full of yearning to understand. Mitch nearly answered back but he did not foresee Judas pulling him in close, his sexual affection and solace Mitch could feel clearly through the bond, did he want to fuck?! Watching Judas's uncertain hand finger his chest and it made him swell in his pants, using sex to toy with somebody was always a gratifying experience.
"Why do you think I asked you to try?" Mitch had not moved a single muscle in this entire interaction. Mitch let the entity play with him, not wanting to make the first move. Cautious not to damage all the hard work he had put in tonight, his body language remained open to Judas, he wasn't going to say no to sex and it made him wonder, how much fun they could have as vampires now?
-
Judas sighed as the flower changed colors between his fingers. "You have an ulterior motive," he answered casually. The skin beneath his sire's shirt was warm with the drink he had so recently taken; he could feel it against his finger tips, the edge of his palm, the heel of his hand. Sensual, like a lover. The thought was both satisfying and fulfilling. What would it be like to be pressed against him like he once was, this time immortal and capable of withstanding him? Judas knew what it was like to be the boy in the hall. What would he feel like inside of him again? Would he remember it this time?
"I'm not an idiot, Mitch," Judas cooed, taking the initiative to run his finger along the skin beneath the rim of his sweatpants. Warm and firm like his, but toner with more definition. It pulled at him in a way it shouldn't have and his cock twitched beneath denim. "I don't trust you for a fucking second."
"But if you're going to teach me," he said slowly, spreading the hem of Mitchelletto's pants so he could slither a hand down and massage that semi-rigged member of his, stroking him back to life with skilled hands and a controlled rhythm. Judas growled in the back of his throat as Mitch's cock grew stronger in his hand and his own came back to life. A feeling like deja vu grew somewhere inside of him. Judas pressed himself against the solid wall of his sire, adjusting his grip on Mitch's shoulder to hold him steadily as he pumped the older vampire. "Then teach me. Don't play with me or be a prick and maybe we can both get something out of this bond of ours." Judas smirked slyly, positioning himself close enough to place his lips on his sire's throat.
-
Mitchelletto let the man ramble on in his narcotic filled daze, his frightening accurate conclusions would have provoked others into a panicked state, but not Mitch. Carefully inspecting the wandering hand that dancing down his chest in a manner that pleased Mitch greatly, fingers brushing the rim of his sweatpants and it caught Mitchelletto's full attention. Never did Mitch anticipate that hand to creep down and wrap its sweet fingers around his cock. Fuck... Mitch had forgotten about those sinful hands, licking the back of his teeth in lust and permitting Judas to press his body into Mitch. The now attractive youngster steadied himself against the older vampire, and he couldnt help but give into Judas for now. That tight supernatural grip enclosed around his cock crashed into Mitch like a heavy wave and he craved more, sex, drugs... everything.
Mitch gradually raised his right hand and nestled it gently under the youths chin and compelled Judas to lookup; a good six inches in height between the two. Pulling him away from Mitch's throat, "Then you can't do the same to me. Don't exploit me, listen to me and don't be a shithead," he uttered back, rubbing his thumb sensually over Judas's lower lip while he talked
"Your are different but not insane," he whispered. "I wanted to know why there is Nikolai and then you," seeing more benefit in telling the truth, a rare moment in Mitchelletto's life.
"We will find out," kissing Judas delicately on the lips, eagerly sliding his tongue in the younger vampires mouth and growling with pleasure.
Mitch removed his right hand from underneath Judas's chin and harshly grabbed the back of Judas's head. His left hand free to unleash the young man's bulge in his pants, purposely being slow to undo his denim button and zipper to tease Judas, moaning in delight when Mitch finally touched Judas's cock, gripping it with an iron fist that was painfully playful. Rhythm and pace matching what Judas was doing to Mitch's own cock. Savouring the foreplay that was unfolding between the two, still tasting the human's blood in his jaws and that made Mitch kiss him deeper. The bedroom would be next if Judas's kept Mitch at this pace and Mitch had lots of toys in there to use on Judas.
-
A sharp, hot instinct of fear and self-preservation flashed through him as Mitchelletto said Nikolai's name, understanding the divide between them. His ears and face filled with the blood of the human he had just tasted and his twisting hand stuttered in the path along Mitch's length. Had the older vampire not pressed his lips against his and kissed him, Judas may have tried to form some kind of furious denial, squeezed that cock until he had the vampire at his mercy and growled a warning at his sire.
The yank in his hair was faster than Judas was expecting and he grunted with the pain of it, pleasure weaving through him only after he felt Mitchelletto's hand begin its descent down his abdomen. There was that same fuzzy familiarity of feeling the air against his pelvis, Mitch's hand stroking him ruthlessly until he groaned his own pleasure. They had been in this situation before, but Judas couldn't remember it all clearly. Too many drugs, his human experience tainted by cocaine-induced euphoria, dull with lack of supernatural perspective like he had now.
There was something else there, something he had not anticipated when he grabbed onto his sire.
Their blood bond.
With their hands stroking each other, Judas was unable to withhold the echo of his own pleasure rushing through that damned connection. Nor could he fight the onslaught of lust from his sire that almost drowned him. It was a satisfying choking feeling that got caught in his throat and set fire to his belly, making his mouth work harder on Mitch's. Gratification of their proximity that filled the need of him that neither Judas nor Nikolai had ever known before re-discovering his sire weeks ago. He hated it, wanted to twist the elder's prick off with his bare hands and tear out his throat with his teeth because of it. But fuck, the thrill was unlike anything he had ever experienced and he wanted nothing but more of it.
His hand left Mitch bulging in his pants and raked his nails upwards between his abdomen and the cloth that kept it hidden from him, pulling the black tank over the bastard's head, interrupting them briefly. Skin warmed with lifeblood that made Judas' jaw quake. Green spots sprouted over his flesh like gangrene and the younger leaned in to press stinging kisses against them, pushing Mitchelletto backwards as he went. Impatient and hard. He sank his nails into any flesh he could reach, tearing both with the want of that intensity that dangled before him.
-
Mitchelletto released the youngster's snake in response to Judas' aggressive pushing, nails digging deep into the elder's flesh and it provoked a delightful reaction from Mitch. In one fell swoop, Mitchelletto hoisted Judas off his feet like he weighed nothing at all, hastily grasping the adolescent's thighs with a harsh grip and pinned Judas against the wall. Their lips breaking apart as Mitch yanked the youngster's shirt off and quickly fired it on the floor. Planting several soft seductive kisses on his collarbone, slowly maneuvering his mouth to nibble and bite at Judas's throat. It took everything Mitch had not to bite down and drink his blood, to savour the taste of the vitae running through his veins, stopping his train of thought with a soft moan and proceeded to the bedroom with Judas still in his grasp. Memories long past fed his desire to fuck Judas.
Barreling through the bedroom door frame like a bull in a china shop, excitement overtaking his senses. Stopping at the foot of the bed only to toss Judas onto the mattress, his nimble fingers untying the drawstring on his own sweatpants and letting them fall down around his ankles to reveal his chiselled and toned physique. Mitch had no boxers underneath. Mitchelletto gripped the boy's pant legs and like a magician performing a trick snatched his pants off with ease, leaving him stark naked, an intense sexual craving fell over Mitch and he could not resist Judas's sexy figure.
Sliding his lithe frame over the foot of the bed and between Judas's legs, his hands sliding up the juvenile's legs to his hips, forcing them apart and taking Judas's member in his jaws. Gliding his mouth all the way down to the base of his swollen dick, coming back up gradually with his teeth scraping Judas's shaft ever so slightly. Deliberately shoving two fingers into Judas's ass while the elder's tongue danced and teased the head of his cock, his unoccupied hand steadying himself so he could continue to play with the boy's ass and continued to suck him off. Increasing the suction each time Mitch went back down and up the length of Judas's cock.
-
As a general rule, he didn't fuck other vampires - with the obvious exception being that cunt that lived in Awelfor Manor - unless they were younger than he was: there was too much at risk, especially with men. He didn't have a full understanding of what older ones were capable of and he knew that they were generally stronger than he was. They could do damage that he couldn't and he'd be powerless against it.
Judas would never feel powerless.
As he was lifted by the thighs and pressed roughly against a wall, ground into, kissed and bitten, there was a bright array of emotion that surged through him. Fear, lust, excitement, want. He couldn't remember the last time he was lifted from the ground like that and it made adrenaline race, propelling the drug-induced madness. Judas laughed uncontrolled, manically, as the colors of the ceiling cycled through a dark rainbow of pearlescent pine green, navy blue, and fire orange. He could feel the elder's scraping teeth in his bones and would have scratched at his arms to get it out of him had his sire not moved him to the bed, tossing him down on it like he was a human.
Judas hissed as his sire's clothes came off, sensing their game progressing hotly. That cock of his though tore at Judas' attention and made his own rod, resting exposed and painful on the zipper of his jeans, throb and twitch with desire. The sense of familiarity of the situation struck Judas again and he was tempted to throw his head back and cackle in that way that brought him chills. The urge was cut short as that gorgeous, cold body approached him, pulled his pants down - forcing Judas to kick off his shoes and socks in a desperate need to be free of them - and laid down against his thighs. Judas almost disobeyed him, kept his legs closed against those rough fingers. But the want of feeling that hefty cock inside of him again allowed Mitch to have his way with him. Fear again washed through him as those lips settled on the head of his cock and drove pleasure home. With Mitchelletto's fingers inside him, unlubed and harsh against tender puckered skin, Judas groaned his discomfort and pleasure, his face contorted. He rested a hand on his sire's shoulder and applied pressure to ease him up as his asshole adjusted to the intrusion.
But as Mitch's mouth came down on him, sucking his head lovingly on the upstroke, Judas adjusted and his hips relaxed, heat tingling nerves in his arms and thighs. "A fucking romantic, you are," he said with a growling laugh, loving and hating the pain of the stretch, that tepid, dangerous mouth on his prick. He groaned but his own erection never flagged. "You'll fit better in me with lube."
The more he moved, writhing into Mitch's mouth as he bucked his hips in rhythm with the elder's mouth - as long as he was allowed - the more the euphoria faded, the low approaching as it always did after every good high. It was slow, but Judas could feel it seeping out of him even as he was worked up into a sexual high. With it came the sour tinge of regret.
He wove his fingers into Mitch's hair and gripped at the roots, circling his hips down to fit more of those fingers in him, the pain and pleasure distracting from his growing sense of loss. All that mattered now was the fuck. Once or twice his sire brushed against that sensitive place in him and he twitched as if he were being electrocuted, heat flooding his skin all the way into his face and quickening his cock. Judas moaned against the sensation, arching his back and gritting his teeth into a pleasurable grimace. When he closed his eyes more colors danced - oranges, yellows, reds this time. Without meaning to, Judas moaned the other vampire's name in affirmation of pleasure.
Judas wrapped a hand around Mitchelletto's bicep - finding it flexed, the skin toned and preternaturally hard - and pulled his attention upwards. He wanted the other vampire's mouth. If he obeyed, Judas would place himself squarely under the older vampire, grinding his hips upwards and placing his sire's hips between his legs. He would hold Mitchelletto in place with his knees and thighs, his grip strong and impatient to feel that hard dick pumping a load between his ass cheeks.
-
Mitch reduced the force of his fingers in Judas's ass to a playful rhythm in response to the pressure on his shoulder. Strategically brushing that wonderful spot in his ass which made Judas twitch under his control. The young lad's fingers laced through his silky hair made his body tense, and for a second his lips and teeth pressed into Judas's cock when he gripped the roots of Mitch's hair. He drew no blood but there was a tremendous amount of pressure. His throat still filled with his cock vibrated with a snarling laugh of pleasure as Judas mentioned lube, Mitch didn't even know if he had any left in the nightstand and he preferred to go in dry. Mitchelletto liked to enjoy the ass he was fucking, unhindered by lube or condoms, he didn't even enjoy blood or spit as an alternative and it was clear Judas did not remember that little tidbit of detail from their last encounter together.
Mitch withdrew from Judas's cock gradually with a loud, wet pop once as he was urged upwards, his hands providing support as Judas freely placed himself in the perfect position to fuck. His fierce and hungry lips crashing against the enthusiastic lad before breaking away and whispered to Judas, "You enjoyed this last time." At first, Mitch barely inserted the head of his dick in his ass, dry. Returning to kissing and biting at young lads lips with genuine enjoyment, moving onto his jawline and neck with the intent to put boy in the euphoric state.
Each time Judas's body began to relax Mitchelletto slid his anxious dick farther into the young sexy vampire and he paid close attention to Judas and his subtle reactions underneath the older vampire.
Stopping and starting several times to give the young lad time to adjust each time. Making sure to tease the lad with his skillful tongue and fingers every so often to calm any tension that arose from Judas, and once Mitch had his cock fully in his ass he began a slow and shallow pace. Enjoying the fact his young fledge could take all of his swollen dick in his ass, he let Judas feel his gratification through the bond, snarling and muttering encouragement as he increased his momentum. Careful not to hurt the boy, but just enough to cause some sensual pain play.
Mitch couldn't help but cum the first time, still hard as a rock after releasing a large load in Judas's ass. Mitchelletto resumed fucking his fledgling, and this time Mitch repositioned Judas in a way that allowed the older vampires dick to play with Judas's spot in his ass. Breaking away from their lustful kiss and nibbled on his earlobe before murmuring in his ear with excitement, "You're going to cum with me," his tongue sliding down Judas's delicate, soft neck then back up to his ear and Mitch nibbled on it again.
Mitch slid his hand down to Judas's member and grabbed hold of it, stroking it with a hard grip and Mitchelletto didn't care about the mess they were about to make, "Now." He growled.
-
He couldn't trust that laugh, but fuck did it make him a shiver with pleasure to feel his sire's throat vibrate around his cock. Judas thrust his hips up in response, burying more of himself into that mouth, groaning with the scraping of teeth on his most tender skin. He lost himself in the sensation that he forgot what the vampire was laughing at to begin with. When Mitch answered him with words, something in Judas darkened. It was no secret that he had enjoyed Mitchelletto the last time they fcked - when he was a human, before the bastard had killed him - but the barbaric denial of lubrication for their little foray was ridiculous and cruel. Had Mitchelletto not been significantly older, had his stiff cock not been pressing so nicely against his ass, and that mouth not tearing his thoughts away from him, Judas would have tried to push the other off of him. His want was too strong, his cock too hard, and the nihilistic high from the Scaeri venom still lingered, reminding him that nothing was real anyway - not even the pain and discomfort of Mitch's efforts to warm him up.
As Mitch's lips and teeth settled on his skin, nipping and licking in some rough pattern on his neck, something inside of him submitted to the other. He lay almost powerless in the pleasure and instinctual desire for Mitch as if he were human again, acting like some dog to its owner by offering him his neck plainly to do with as he would. A red hot prickle of discomfort oozed into his pleasurable state, tainting the experience while keeping him hard.
He braced himself for the discomfort and pain as Mitch entered him, doing his best to relax and keep himself accommodating for the girth of the other. Judas was surprised to see the slowness of the pace, the mercy of it. He was silently thankful for it and suspicious of it; it only meant that there was more in store than he was probably not prepared for. With grimaces of discomfort, he accepted Mitch to his hilt, groaning on every stroke in and out. Had Mitch's arousal not flooded into him through that annoying bond between them, he may have lost interest in the situation altogether, the small hums of pleasure unable to distract him from the pain and friction.
He had spent too much of his life on his back or on his knees to be unskilled in dealing with this sort of thing; there had always been men who lacked the forethought to think about lube and friction during a fck. Fortunately, he was no longer human and had little to worry about. So as his sire thrust himself into his ass, his solid thighs pounding against Judas' in rhythmic fashion, that surge of euphoria and the ricocheting satisfaction of Judas' pain reverberating back to him, Judas kept himself as relaxed and open as possible to whatever pleasure he could gather. Eventually there would be a growing sense of numbness in which he could recover. As Mitch fcked him, Judas stroked himself back into hardness, groaning into a pillow caught between his clenched teeth.
When Mitchelletto finally came inside of him, the burst of wetness brought a sort of stinging relief in his as and the skins slipped past each other easier. He had been expecting Mitch to leave him after a few softening pumps, leaving him used and hard to deal with on his own, but his sire had other intentions. When Mitch remained, shifted the tilt of his hips and drove that rod deeper into him with more vigor, Mitch was able to rub against that electric place. Judas mouth dropped open again and for the first time since he had entered him, pleasure began to mount and override the intensity of the pain. The sensation of the slip of Mitch's cum-slicked prick in his as let him relax more and actually enjoy the pressure and pull.
The command made him warm with pleasure as chills began on arms and an aching opened in his chest. He was building, despite the rawness of his orifice, each push of flesh stripping him of his reason and his unnecessary breath as if he were looking down the drop of a cliff. There was a growl mounting in the pit of his belly with every thrust against that electric place deep in him that made his hands seek Mitch's neked hips, his shoulders, his hands, anything that could be grabbed and dug into in the pleasure. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, different than any other fck he had ever experienced before - even more than the first and only other time they had fcked. Judas couldn't fathom it, and couldn't focus on it, the need too much. The sensation of needing to piss, the chills on his thighs, the moaning and grunting and raw tenderness of his soft skins carried him as Mitch's hands brought him closer to his peak. Judas closed his eyes and burst all over himself, all over Mitch's hand as he stroked him through orgasm, painting himself as he was stroked and fcked, grunting and moaning his way down as his sire filled him again, his cum slicking that cok and Judas' puckered ass hole squeegeeing a dripping pool down his ass cheeks.
He looked up at his sire as he cooled, his dick slackening and turning soft in the other's hand. Needlessly, he panted (a habit had hadn't gotten out of since his human days, just like breathing in his sleep) from the exertion of the act, short though it all was. He became keenly aware of his entire being, from the wetness in his ass to the cramp beginning in his hips to that invisible tether that connected the two of them. The intensity of their shared orgasm brought his attention to the older vampire and Judas became aware of how his high had essentially dissolved sometime during their fuck.
-
Mitch admired the mess that exploded over Judas's chest and his hand, the lads human-like panting was a cute touch and an eerie grin grew across his face. Mitch slowly pulled his cock out the young vampire's ass, his mess dripping onto the sheets as he crawled off the bed and proceeded to grab Judas a towel from the bathroom. Mitch had a small towel in his hand, throwing a larger towel it onto Judas's chest so he could clean himself up.
"Clean up. I have one more thing to show you tonight," wiping his hand and cock clean before tossing his own towel on the floor. The maids would get it sooner or later. Crossing the floor to grab his sweat pants and pulled them over his legs before exiting the room, waiting for Judas to clean up. Sitting down in one of the chairs with his elbows pressed against his knees.
-
He laid there as Mitchelletto retracted himself and contemplated leaving as soon as the elder vampire turned away. The high was gone and their cocks were spent - no need to stick around. It would be easy enough to just slip back into his jeans and shirt, his shoes untied until he got into his car. He could ignore the wetness dripping out of him until he showered at his own condo, ignore the decisions he had made while high as a fucking kite, ignore the satisfied ache of being in Mitchelletto's presence like this, the need for fulfillment as his fledgling.
But Mitch's words and the towel made it clear that his sire had other plans. Judas did as he was bid and wiped himself as well and as quickly as he could before he found his jeans again and stepped into them. As he buttoned them, zipping his fly, Judas responded coolly to his sire's demand.
"I'm not high anymore." Mitch had told him that the high would be short, but there was no way that he would have guessed it was that short - minutes? A half hour at most? He missed that bliss already, the euphoria replaced with darkening thoughts of regret and an apathetic nihilism that had defined his nights for the past several months. It was a wonderful high, one that he craved immediately, red flags flying somewhere in his mind. "Whatever you're thinking isn't going to work."
-
"You do not need to be high to wield Obfuscate," his gaze flickering upwards the same time he continued to speak, "Obfuscate works through a combination of ambient, low-level mesmerism. Observers can see us but their minds choose to ignore it. Witnesses walk by without batting an eye and unconsciously move out of the way if you obstruct there path and rationalize their behaviour if pressed."
Mitchelletto used an ability that was far beyond his fledges reach right now but he would get there, using Vanism Mitch disappeared and reappeared in front of Nikolai and his position had changed. His left leg was across his right leg tucked against the chair, his hands sitting pretty on top his left knee, and a little smirk on his lips, taking in the lads expression and then continued with his speech.
"It affects all five senses but you will learn to mask the sense of sight first, and it does have limitations. You can not block a doorway and maintain Obfuscate against someone walking through it. Violent actions, pickpocketing, raised voices and weapons raised to strike all jeopardize Obfuscate. Pick your moment," he warned his fledge.
"Along with Corrosive Vitae you will work to wield Cloak of Shadows which is a lesser form what I did, and you need to learn the basics," he explained before the young vampire opened his mouth. "Standing still you can blend into your surroundings long as you have some kind of cover, make no sound, and don't move. Only mechanical and supernatural means can find you," this was the young vampire's first test and possibly the last if he failed in progressing his abilities.
-
Something about what he said sounded too familiar to ignore, and Judas' interests in what Mitch had to say about the powers he supposedly had were piqued once more.
"I can already do that," he responded quietly, unsure of whether he wanted to acknowledge this lunacy further. Judas had been able to blend in with his surroundings in a way for at least the last fifty years and figured it was just a normal thing that eventually occurred as he aged. He lacked the ability to reference any other understanding than his own, having no access (or desire) to a sire or anyone else who would be able tell him anything at all.
-
Mitchelletto's left eyebrow popped up in curiosity at the lad's statement, no training at all and yet he thrived without a Sire. A wicked smile crossed his lips. Planting his left onto the ground, his hands steeped together handing between his legs and he leaned forward in his chair.
"Well since you are so resource-" there was nothing, not a damn sound. Mitchellettos lips continued to move but his fledge could not hear him speak.
"Anyways," his voice returned. "This fun little trick completely silences the user, nullifying all sound made by them. However, this only works on people within earshot, and it does not fool microphones or other electronic sound detectors," making sure his fledge was paying attention before continuing.
"Unlike Obfuscate in general this works only on the sense of hearing, but in exchange, it operates more robustly. A vampire has to make a lot of noise to break this silence. You can silence your footsteps, clothing, minor collisions, and other sounds of their person. This makes you undetectable if an observer can only notice them by sound, for example on a different floor of a house."
"This ability does not eliminate the sounds the user makes outside of their personal space, throwing or dropping objects, slamming doors you get the picture. The official name is Silence of Death," finally standing up from his chair.
"You have one month. When you come back we will put your skills to the test. See how far you can get. Annnnd I'm going to break your nose. Laurent might get wary if you exit on camera unharmed." He would break it to the demon later, right now Mitch would enjoy the success he achieved all for himself.
Mitch sent a hard jab to the young lad's nose, a solid crunch could be felt underneath Mitchelletto's fist and he had to contain a smile. The fledge was free to go. Mitch did not stand in the way of the exit. He wondered how far Nikolai/Judas would get on his own? Would he be able to show some degree of control? Or would he crash and burn with the concept? The twin persona Mitch had felt lurking inside his fledge made him believe he could, his clan a mess but that did not mean he could still build a legacy that would rival all others. Caring more for the clan's teachings and less of the clan itself.
-
Judas listened as Mitch explained the new skills he was expecting to master over a month and was about to protest when the elder's fist struck him hard and faster than he could follow. With the crunch in his face came a brilliant shock of light and heat that travelled into his cheekbones and forehead. Judas staggered and almost fell backwards with the force of the strike, managing to keep his feet beneath him by sheer luck.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He shouted at the other, his hands covering the majority of his face as it swelled with freshly consumed blood. Red leaked down his nose and his words sprayed the stream into spatters against his palms. His entire face throbbed, the same amount of blood pouring down the inside of his throat as down his mouth and chest. He looked at Mitchelletto incredulously, as if he had also broken his word. Hadn't they just agreed not to be fucking assholes to one another?
Fat chance.
He wanted to fire off another comment but the aching in his face was all-consuming and numbed his desire to speak, lest he make it worse. Instead, Judas found his shirt and the remainder of his clothing and took off without a second glance at Mitchelletto, intent only upon getting back to his apartment and drowning himself in the shower.
-
Mitch shook his head and looked up at the ceiling for a brief second, returning his gaze to the boy scuttling about the room, "Laurent can not be suspicious," he snapped back before his fledge exited the room. Him and his damn selective hearing, why the look of shock on his face? No matter, he would return. Mitch was certain of that fact. There was a reason why Mitch gave him one month to complete his task, he needed time to prepare for his assignment from his recent employer.
A small cruel smile emerged on his face, this event would horrify the city, bringing down whatever confidence left in the cities security forces. To bring fear and chaos to the streets, the tension between citizens and elected officials would be afoot, and the trust would be broken among the people. The first move in a long game of chess, it needed to be subtle and multiple people would take the blame. It would take a long time for anyone to figure out the truth, and once they did, it would be too late to fix tha damage.
Relationships would break, alliances would fall. Fighting among themselves like rabid dogs, pointing the finger at one another when none were to blame. Mitch had stepped freely and undetected between the domains of the Camarilla, Sabbat and the Independent clans, this is his playing field. The game of deception and fabrications came to him as easy as blood from a mortal's neck flowed into his mouth. He did not break character and like a chameleon, he was always changing shape. An insidious laugh escaped his lips as he pulled a map of the city from a drawer, sat down in a chair and began his homework.