Recovery

[Saiketsu]

Continued from Sire Bond.
Reserved for Billiam

Vinny's house was just on the other side of the city and he had told him that he'd be there in less than ten minutes. He remembered thinking about how Vinny was the only immortal he had close enough ties to who would be able - even if he wasn't really willing - to put his anatomy back in place after Mitchelletto had broken him. He remembered gritting his teeth in defeat at admitting he needed help. He remembered entering the Central District, heading for the younger vampire's place somewhere between the Brazilian Quarter and Chinatown.

But then the greyness had took over his body again.

Passersby who watched the madness happen noticed a black 2016 Chevrolet Impala slowly start to pull towards the center lane, cutting off other drivers as the vehicle picked up momentum, a blare of horns and squealing brakes as ambiance. Evidently unaware of its trajectory, the car sped onward until it collided with a crashing boom with the cement median, spinning first ninety degrees before tires lifted from the ground and the sports car rolled twice through the intersection - miraculously avoiding all civilian contact - and settled with a loud wince of steel on its side in front of the White Rabbit. Tinted glass littered the street in fragments big enough to slash tires. Steam rose from the engine ominously as the humans of central stared in disbelief and shock, some reaching for their phones like good samaritans.

It was only moments that passed in his unconscious state and Nikolai felt the car sway around him as it ground to a halt. He was crumpled and bleeding onto the ground that had replaced his windows. He looked around, trying to figure out what had happened, his body aching terribly. With a great effort he pulled himself up out of the opposite window that faced a cloudy sky. Despite the drama of the incident, Nikolai noticed it was only some deep splits in his skin and much soreness - though he couldn't exactly tell whether those bruises had been there or if they were newly acquired.

Like some kind of animal, Nikolai Armani emerged from the car cradling his left shoulder, sitting on the busted frame feeling, on top of everything else, furious that he had just crashed his car. He was tempted to lay on top of the wreckage and wait until someone came and grabbed him down or even until the sun found him. Either option gave him a limited time of being in such agony.

Instead he slipped off of the frame carefully and dropped on the other side of the car, sitting with his head against wall of the building closest to him. With his only working arm, he pulled his crushed cigarettes out of his pocket and light one, taking long draws on it without moving the thing out of his mouth. Let the sun come, then.

[Black Philip]

The Harpy was holding court, and all the little children of the Central District came before her to make their accusations, or to pay their boons. She was dressed for work. The outfit was a fuchsia pantsuit, with black kitty kat heels and horn rimmed glasses. Her hair was tied back into a braid and her nails were long, sharp and painted the color of blood. Her eyes were black and heavily shadowed, and her very aura said fear me.  Somehow, her aura also said love me, and most of the plaintiffs and defendants did a little of both. Tonight she'd heard a few cases about who had the right to what feeding ground, a complaint about the Luminary building being an eye sore (which she rather enjoyed), a custody battle over a dog familus, and most recently a fae who was arguing for more rights for fae to practice their faeness openly.

She'd broken up the feeding grounds, playacted the complainer, awarded sole custody of the dog in exchange for a minor boon, and told they fae that the masquerade ruled supreme. It was a rather slow night for the Harpy, and she was getting bored. The bar downstairs was jumping, but up on the second floor it was quiet and relaxed. Harps and piano played peaceful Barque pop, and her staff was dressed as nice as any Anarchs ever had. Suits, full dresses,  top hats and petticoats all littered the upper floor. Jake and Lisa-Joe shared the philosophy of more was more, and ceremony was an important metric of control. In reality, she was the daughter of bums, had been a tavern whore until her siring, and had spent eternity killing, fucking and having a good time. Why should anyone listen to her judgment? Why should citizens respect her authority? What was to stop that 1,500 year old ancient from tearing out her throat when she rendered a judgement he didn't like?

The answer was prestige. It was mystery, smoke, pomp, elitism, and the truth that people saw power in those who cast the biggest shadows. Her's was momentous and suffocating. The great bird sat on a throne with a golden frame, ostentatious and gaudy, French sixteenth century, with lavender upholstery. A marble end table was placed next to the throne, and on it was a fine water glass filled with blood. She sipped it and then used a Kleenex to blot her lipstick before saying to the Brujah attending to her, "next case!"

Amy, her punk little bailiff, was wearing white tie and tails tonight, her pink hair tightly wound into a bun. She crossed the room and waved the next case forward. Two vampires and a pet came forward. The plaintiff approached the Harpy. She was about ten years in the ground, and about twenty three in appearance. She had long blonde hair and a curvy figure, a beauty and looked mad as hell. The defendant was a smug looking vampire, probably two hundred or so, and gleefully stood with a stoned looking human woman. The human was nineteen by a day, high as a kite, and holding the pretty male vampire by the arm. Lisa-Joe looked back and forth between them, before flipping to a page in her binder relevant to their case. It was a dispute over who had pet rights to the mortal. It was a typical occurrence, and something she'd handled before. The plaintiff had been dating the human, but then the human had cheated with the male vampire. The plaintiff wants the male punished because he fed on a pet, but the pet and the male vampire are stating that the human didn't want to be with her anymore and should be able to choose a new vampire. Lisa-Joe looked first to the plaintiff.

"Please state your case before me," she said, looking disinterested. The female vampire looked nervous and stuttered through her entrance. "Oh, um, miss Harpy, Lisa-Joe Hampton, mam, ummmmmmmm. I was dating Marissa for two months, and had her registered with the Central District as a pet. Then two weeks ago this...," the vampire looked at the human who'd betrayed her, "... whore cheated on me by letting him feed from her!" The attendants gasped! Lisa-Joe smiled cruelty, turning to the defendants. "Any defense," she asked, sounding very much like she'd already made up her mind. She hadn't, she just liked to mess with people.

"I don't want to be with her," the human said, chewing gum in the Harpy's presence. "She's bad in bed, and won't feed from me in the right places. Cliff does it all," she said gripping the male vampire. Cliff beamed a proud smile. Lisa-Joe heard some more arguments from both, and then decided to render a decision. She sat up straight on the throne and folded her hands neatly in her lap.

"This court was going to rule with the plaintiff. We have laws in the district, and one of them is proper pet registration. Had this pet been properly registered, then I would've been honor bound to punish Cliff here. However, upon checking your original paperwork, I found out you never finished the process!" Another audible gasp took the room.

"That makes this human nobody's pet, and therefore I rule in favor of the defense! Please be sure to register with the Keeper on your way out," she advised Cliff. "I decree, that you mam now owe Cliff here a minor boon for the trouble of coming to court when you can't fill out a fucking form. Case dismissed!" The room was all a chatter as the three figures walked away; two of them were quite happy, while one cursed loudly as she wandered down the stairs. Lisa-Joe loved her job. She was about to call for the next case, when she heard what she knew instantly was a car crash, and it was right outside her bar.

"I'll be back gang," she told the room, before rising from her throne and gracefully moving to the stairs. She made her way down to the first floor, where she heard chatter like, "oh my god, is he dead," and "he almost hit the place." Lisa-Joe didn't have trouble shoving her way outside, and her eyes widened with rage when she saw what had been brought to her doorstep. The smell of burning engine contorted her face, and she covered her mouth and nose to avoid having to taste or smell it further. The wreck was far too close to the White Rabbit, and Lisa-Joe would have nightmares about how many would've died if the driver had plowed into her bar. Speaking of the driver, she found him a clumped mess against the vacant building next door. She knew this face, and her own lit up in disgust as she looked at the mess before her.

"What the fuck did you just do," she screamed, looking strange in her elaborate clothes. With a lighting fast hand she grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and smoked it. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't drag you into the alley and bleed you dry and leave you for the sun!"


 

[Saiketsu]

It took him a long time to register the cloud of pink that stood yelling at him. Nikolai looked her up and down quickly, admiring the audacity to dress like that in public - women were a fucking trip sometimes - before reaching into his pocket for another cigarette. His actions were slow and filled with pain.

"Because someone already beat you to it," Nikolai answered almost casually, remembering his sire bleeding him into a bowl. He lit the new cigarette with a shaking hand. Her face was familiar, her voice too informal with him. Maybe she knew him. Maybe he had fucked her sometime in the past. Or maybe he just inspired that kind of a reaction from people."I've got no more blood to bleed."

[Black Philip]

Lisa-Joe looked up and down the street, and saw lots of mortals staring at them, and worse yet, some were taking pictures and videos.She grabbed Nikolai by the scruff of his shirt, and drug him into the alleyway, placing him against the metal loading door. She took off the fake glasses, tossing them in the garbage. He looked awful, and a quick assessment showed he wasn't kidding when he said he had little blood left to give. She was surprised he hadn't frenzied. She needed to call a tow truck, and just to avoid any johnny laws coming to investigate she'd need to put in a call to the crooked police captain that worked with the district. First though, she needed to get this guy inside, and get some blood in him. She'd be dealing with his trespassing and possible masquerade violation later.

"Can you walk," she asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke from the cig she'd nabbed.

[Saiketsu]

He was quite tired of being dragged around by vampires who had a few hundred years on him. He winced as she grabbed him, but gave her no fight - there was barely any left in him anyway. His mangled shoulder shot electricity up into his face and neck as she moved him and Nikolai grunted in pain as he hit the loading door, the metal rattling loudly.

"No idea," Nikolai winced, his face contorted with his attempt to control the pain. He exhaled the smoke through his nose and looked up at him with his one good eye, the other having closed itself off during the crash. Nikolai could hear the humans gathering, sirens blaring somewhere far away. Or was that in his head? "I'm willing to try if you are." There was a very tired smile on his face as he extended his good arm in a hook, hand open, as if he were challenging her to an armwrestling match. 

[Black Philip]

With a role of her eyes, she extended her hand, long sharp talons awaiting Nikolai's skin She pulled him up faster than she should've and used her other hand to brace his left side, putting pressure. She then turned and saw an exposed bone, and she quickly looked away, revolted.

[Saiketsu]

His grunt was more of an exclamation of his agony as her hand slid over his back, an expletive being the only word to come to his mouth through grit teeth. He wavered on his feet and leaned against her, threatening to fall at the suddenness of it all. That same cold sweat that had kept him company since leaving Mitchelletto doubled its efforts and painted his pale face.

It was a second or two before his feet found their strength under him, the bones and ligaments still attached and inside his flesh, as far as he could tell. He could smell the humans now and his throat itched at the thought of ripping one open. His jaw quaked noticeably as he hunted with green eyes for the weakest one in the gathering. Fortunately, the other vampire's grip on him was the thing that prevented him from launching himself into the crowd - that and his inability to move much.

"You didn't believe me," Nikolai laughed weakly as the red-head recoiled at his grisly revelation. She moved them towards the White Rabbit. He decided that blood would come to him faster if he didn't fight against the other.

[Black Philip]

"Shut up," she hissed. She knocked hard on the service door, and was quickly let in by a bar back. The poor human looked taken a back by the jutting ivory coming out of Nikolai, and Lisa-Joe shot a withering look. The human scampered off, and the harpy moved Nikolai towards her office. It was closer than taking him all the way downstairs, and she could have blood brought with far more ease. She leaned him up against her right side, their bodies pressing into one another in ways Lisa-Joe hadn't intended. She frowned violently as she realized some of his blood had gotten on her suit from the shoulder wound.

"Ugh, you're paying my dry cleaning bill," she informed. After a bit of struggle, Lisa managed to get the door open and placed Nikolai in a second rate office chair. She shut the door and went to her desk, producing a pair of handcuffs with frilly purple fringe and clamping Nikolai to the chair he sat in.

"I normally use these for something else, but they'll do," she explained as she reached for the phone. "You good with any blood type or do you have a dietary restriction?" She'd gotten used to Jake and Sam's weak tummy's. Fucking Ventrue.

[Saiketsu]

Nikolai looked down at the handcuffs and nearly laughed as she clamped them on. There were several things he wanted to say, too many jokes he could make, but right now he was just too damn tired. "Lady, I hardly think this is necessary, all things considered." The thought that she may have wanted to fuck him ran very briefly through his mind, but was immediately turned down. She neither smelled like she wanted to get fucked nor did he have any blood to maintain an erection even if she did. Nikolai smirked exhausted. He needed blood, but first...

"Maybe first you can tell me why I'm here?" Was he being arrested? He hadn't been arrested since he was a human and the thought would have been funny, had he not just had one of the worst nights he could - partially - remember. Nikolai's cigarette had fallen from his lips as soon as he had put his weight into her and was probably still smouldering in the street outside. He wanted another, now that he was sitting safely away from the eyes of walking blood bags and lamented the fact that this bitch had clamped down his one good arm that he could smoke with.

[Black Philip]

Lisa-Joe wanted to be less violent. Like Jake, she'd promised Sam that she'd learn other ways to deal with her emotions, her rage, and her beast. Sex was a good outlet, as was partying. However, Nikolai - or David as she currently knew him - had a way of pissing her off expertly. She moved in fast and screamed at him, just inches from his face.

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS," she screamed. "You violated your banishment by crashing your shitty car inches away from my bar! And mortals were taking pictures! You think you can just walk out fully healed and nobody will ask fucking questions?! This is your second masquerade violation in a month!"

She looked at the bone, that stinking, revolting reminder of his frailty, sticking out of his back like a cocky penis. With a disgusted look she gripped her hands around Nikolai's back, and said, "this is really going to hurt." With a push and a few audible cracks coming from the attached tissue and ligaments, she managed to reset the bone to it's proper position; well, more or less. Feeding would fix the rest, or at least she assumed. If her prisoner screamed her face showed it no reaction. She'd honestly be more impressed if he took it in stride. The Harpy had seen worse.

[Saiketsu]

Nikolai closed his eyes, flinching away from the woman as she shouted at him. He was out of his own skin, backing away from her in a dissociative way, bracing (at least mentally) for the hammer to fall - more pain, more blood, more torture. Nikolai was like a ghost inhabiting his own body, hovering inches from his own experience. When the pain didn't come, he opened his eyes cautiously and eyed the other vampire with suspicion.

Her words were nonsense to him and despite his exhaustion, he tried to search for their meaning. A second masquerade violation? How was a car accident a fucking masquerade violation? To mortal eyes, he hadn't escaped an accident unscathed, nor made any kind of attempt to appear immortal. Nikolai thought hard; the only suspicious thing was being dragged back into the White Rabbit - something that wasn't even his fault. No, that was all her doing... whoever she was. "You call this 'fully healed'?"

There was some vague awareness of who she was, but the thoughts just weren't connecting easily. He had seen her before, but that was all that was clear. She was some big wig at the Rabbit he gathered. Names were escaping him and he didn't particularly care to chase after them - the connections between events that had occurred were more important.

When her hands fell on him, he tensed and tried to resist her, only to find her strength much sturdier than he could ever hope to be in such a state. Nikolai expected more torture, more pain. What he was not expecting were her hands pulling apart the flaps of flesh, gripping onto his (scapula? Clavicle? Humerus?) extruding bone and snapping it off near the skin. He wasn't expecting to feel her fingers tucking bone indelicately back into position with a sickening wave of electric agony that he felt all throughout his upper body. Demons, blood red and blinding white, rushed in front of his eyes and a pressure was building rapidly in his chest that Nikolai was unable to determine was caused by some injured muscle or some evil part of his own psyche. After hours of having the other vampire's hands in his flesh, relief came with refitted bones and an exiting of hands from beneath his flesh.

As his world darkened and an icy sweat prickled up to the surface of his skin, he slumped forward in the chair, panting. After a long pause filled with him trying to get his breath back in his body, the younger gave a tired, weak laugh. "I'll take that blood now, if you don't mind." He meant it to come out with its usual aggressive, cocky sting, but after tonight, he just didn't have it in him.

[Black Philip]

Lisa-Joe went her desk and pulled out a white hand towel, wiping the blood and gore off her hands. A knock came at the door, and Amy was on the other side holding a hot glass of freshly donated blood. Lisa-Joe took it, and told her subordinate to dismiss court. The Harpy had other duties to attend to. She closed the door and moved the glass to Nikolai's mouth.

"Drink slowly," she said, and then began to tip the glass back just enough so he'd get a steady flow. Once he was all healed up they'd be having a little chat, mostly about his punishment.

[Saiketsu]

He drank every drop that the bitch let him have, glaring at her until the blood hit his lips. A heady warmth spread from his chest, scratching up his throat as she tilted the blood down his throat. His hate of being in a submissive, vulnerable position didn't matter as much as getting human blood into his body. After only a few seconds the glass was empty and Nikolai, feeling only mildly better, fought the temptation to lick the inner rim in his need.

The familiar glowing of the minor wounds moving in his skin, flesh reaching for flesh and stitching itself together, had begun. Tingling like mint. But he needed more before any part of his shoulder would begin to set on its own - his shoulder and left arm still uncomfortably numb and lifeless. Mitchelletto had taken too much for this small glass to ultimately help. He wondered sourly what his face must look like, considering there was no tingling there.

"That's not going to be enough," he said lowly, leaning back in the chair gingerly, still avoiding the broken shoulder. He put his head back and tried to relax the itchiness in his throat.

[Black Philip]

Lisa-Joe let out a scoff, and rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten what it was like to heal wounds like David had when you were so young, and she made a series of "tisk, tisk, tisk," sounds at the low levels of healing her prisoner had received from the first goblet of blood. She'd order another and help him along the way. In the meantime, they could talk. She made the call for another glass of blood, preferring to let the quid pro quo present itself. Really this should be Luke's department, but he was on another assignment. She also felt responsible for this specific piece of vampire garbage. Ever since their first meeting at Sticks and Stakes Lisa-Joe and David had been running afoul of each other. It was time to formalize their respective battery.

"Don't be such a little baby," she chastised, lighting a fresh cigarette with her free hand and taking the seat behind her desk. She threw up her legs and rested them on the desk. It was a poised form of relaxation, and it looked as every bit as contradictory as it sounds. The Harpy flexed her talons.

"So, tell me what leads you back to my door Sugah? Was that ass whooping really so good you want another?"

Based on how he looked, Lisa-Joe doubted he'd want more pain. Still, a girl could dream and so she did.

[Saiketsu]

He didn't know what the hell she was talking about and had the instinct to tell her so as rudely as he could muster. For once, Nikolai controlled the impulse and bit his tongue.

Over the past several months he had resided himself to acceptance for the time he lost as Judas - or stiff. Blackouts were too common for him to deny to anyone - fewer and fewer people lately - who spent enough time around him. At first he blamed it on the smack to anyone who pressed him for an answer - brownouts in between bouts of euphoria and seizing muscles. Nikolai sat incapacitated while Judas drove the vehicle into a fucking ditch. But what could he do? With Laurent's leeches slowly eating every thought and expression of free will, there was sanctuary in Him - at least a kind of familiarity in the madness. It was the same with the drugs. How long had he been clean off smack before he started seeking homeless junkies again? Nothing mattered to Him.

Nikolai purposely didn't discuss the presence of the Other with anyone else, but he wondered anxiously about how many people He was - inadvertently or otherwise - outing Himself to during the Takeovers. What kind of problems had He gotten Himself into now? What bridges were burned? What alliances formed? It used to be that the attacks were infrequent, even as an immortal. Sure, the blackouts had always been there; the Other would make an appearance once every week or two at most - little spots of time like cigarette burns were mysteriously missing from the narratives. Or the Stiffness - that would appear every third month or so, leaving him with nothing but stiff, sore muscles and a time gap with no hint of memory of how it got there. The infrequency had always been just enough to convince him that he was almost sane; a hair's breadth away. There had never been a time before where Judas would push out so easily, to stay out so long. Now Nikolai could feel it happen too, the sensation of fading into some deep, never-ending grey place, left with memories he didn't remember making with eyes and a mind that both felt like his and not his. A dissonant sensation like stepping away from your own flesh. If it could have been bottled up and made into pill form, Nikolai would have probably been addicted to that as well.  But ever since Laurent and Sonya--

A slow, tired growl resounded in his brain but he was able to control his head as it tried to swivel on his neck in a flash. Tired, but too close to let this bitch see the madness at full-force. Instead he hoped that all she would see is a flinch and head turn, slouching in his chair. Dozens of chimes and sultry laughter and painful pulses of bass blared in his ears and a wave like nauseous energy rose from the throne on which Judas sat, chained. The Two eyed each other carefully, a temporary truce. Pitifully and unconsciously, Nikolai tried to brush everything away from his face, only to remember his good arm was cuffed to the fucking chair.

"Listen," Nikolai began weakly, already surrendering much of his fight for the sake of avoiding another probable beating, "I don't know what you're talking about, lady. I barely even know who you are. Now why don't you tell me what I've done wrong so we can both be on our ways, hm?" He could feel a new sprout of perspiration breaking out across his forehead and the back of his neck.