Pre-drinks Dinner

[Trillian]

Ben\'s bashful smile faded a little as Kerr told him how it was.
 
"Never?" he repeated, the word sounding flat in his mouth.  He didn\'t like the sound of it, had wished he\'d known of this promise Kerr had made to himself before he\'d taken the plunge.  Oh, he didn\'t regret it, it was good to have this knowledge.  Strike that, it was amazing to have this knowledge.  But it seemed knowing was not the means to an end.  It appeared to be the end itself.  "Never is dangerous, when someone has infinte time to reconsider."
 
He was already trying to talk Kerr around.  He\'d shaken his head at the offer of sweet things to perk up his strength.  Yes, he felt weak and dizzy, but right now he had a very important topic to discuss.

[Existentially Odd]

Ben\'s tone was not what he\'d expected. Kerr had misread the earnestness of it in his previous statement, it seemed; had responded lightly, selfishly. He straightened out of his slouch, rubbing his tongue stud ruminatively along the roof of his mouth as his gaze narrowed on the boy. His hand was removed from the heated flesh quite naturallyas he sat up, though it remained suspended on the soft material of the seat, close to Ben\'s shoulder.

Presumptuous.

His left hand busied itself straightening his Armani suit coat, the tie that had become bunched beneath the lapel. He crossed his legs, feeling more guarded and looking a lot more shrewdly at the youngster. So, he\'d been playing a game, had he? Kerr felt somewhat betrayed, having fallen for the nervous virgin act when all along it seemed that there\'d been a hidden agenda. He wished to be embraced, was that it?

"What is more dangerous, is that forever is an even longer time to regret," he countered softly, not giving away his thoughts. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to hear that Ben had had an enjoyable a time as he had, that perhaps the mortal wished to meet up again in the near future and repeat it, because the thrill had been so great. Kerr didn\'t want to hear arguments and pleas.  Not from ignorant lips.

[Trillian]

His thoughts spiralled again as he realised the fire he was playing with. Kerr\'s body language was as obvious as Ben\'s initial question and statement, and warning signals went off in his mind, alerting him that he would have to tread lightly.
 
They kept Their secret guarded closely. He\'d discovered this much while pouring over texts in the library and on the internet. Very few vampires sired others. Apparently most preferred not to pass on Their immortality, to share Their time and Their gift with others. They were selective when They did choose. Physical attraction was usually a selling point. Mental stability certainly high on the list.
 
Ben was a Follower, but he was also a Preparer. He made thoughtful and careful decisions and weighed each risk. That didn\'t mean his bravery wasn\'t fraught with fear and indecision when faced with the task itself - when he\'d first stepped into Risk for instance, when he\'d been the innocent. It had not been an act - but the accusation was left unspoken, and therefore the defense would not be heard.
 
As Kerr\'s eyes narrowed and he pulled away - though subtly - Ben shook his head and lifted his shoulders slightly. "What would I know?" he said softly, his light blue eyes staring intently at Kerr\'s deep brown. "I\'m nineteen years old. So far nothing I\'ve done is regretful."
 
Including the present moment, he wanted to add, but didn\'t. Likely Kerr would make the connection on his own, he didn\'t need Ben to spell it out for him. What they\'d shared was not something Ben hadn\'t wanted. This much was truth, regardless of how it had ended.
 
"But I don\'t see myself doing this again with someone else."
 
So he did have something to add. He knew that he was unlikely to be sired after a single night. He was, after all, asking for forever. Kerr was the closest he\'d come to a being he\'d merely read about - and even if things progressed slowly, Ben hoped that he could at least know more about Kerr for the vampire seemed willing to talk (about certain subjects, if not others). First hand recounting was far more fascinating than reading supposition in a book written by someone who\'d done their own research and formed opinions and theories.

[Existentially Odd]

"Well that\'s very flattering," Kerr said, the smile not quite reaching his eyes any more, "but I don\'t expect - nor offer - any sort of committment. I\'m sure that when you realise I won\'t give you what you want, you\'ll... seek out someone else."

Tell me you don\'t wish to be embraced, go on.  Tell me I\'m wrong.  Lie to me... see what I\'ll believe.

It deeply disappointed him that the evening - which had gone so swimmingly up to now - would have to end on such a sour note. He could still be wrong, of course, but Ben had more or less told him that he didn\'t regret anything thus far in his ridiculously short life (even while acknowledging that he understood exactly how short that life still was) and seemed intent on forcing him to rethink his decision to not ever sire anyone again. It didn\'t take a genius to put the two together and come up with the correct answer.

Part of Kerr thought that it might be a good idea to simply read the mortal\'s thoughts, so that he didn\'t have to endure any more game playing. But mostly he just didn\'t want to know. He didn\'t care. The entire concept made him too nervous; this was definitely his most vulnerable area and to have it attacked while he was still floating out of the blissfully satisfying headspace he\'d entered whilst feeding, was the cruellest act of all.

Not that Ben could know that. Of course he couldn\'t. Unless he knew Sawyl... and this was a far more elaborate scheme than he\'d anticipated? His lips pursed as he took the matter into consideration, his hands once again on the move, straightening his clothes and fretting at his tie, loosening then tightening it. He certainly couldn\'t dismiss the idea as ridiculous, because he knew some of the wild things his beloved got up to. He\'d convinced Kerr all those years ago to help him sire his mothers, hadn\'t he?

"Just what is it that you expect of me?" he asked testily, looking straight back into the blue eyes across from him. His nerves were already getting the better of him, making him speak so rudely when it was certainly not his usual manner.  He felt his statement a singular sort of entity, aware that it had burst from him, unattached to his previous gentle deterrents.  He was ashamed of himself, unused to confrontation; his gaze lowered after just a few moments, staring at the candle a short distance away, his tongue working again inside his mouth.

[Trillian]

As Kerr continued to explain that he was offering nothing, and that he expected Ben to find an offer elsewhere, he found he could still look the vampire in the eye and utter: "Maybe."
 
His mind was still whirling. It was hard to come up with a sensible argument when he was feeling so... drained - for lack of a better word, or was that the best word? It probably was. He stared at Kerr, knowing there was no guarantees he would get a different answer from anybody else either. He didn\'t need to be sired tonight, was probably afraid to be, in any case, but Kerr was looking at him like he\'d already asked, like he wanted that and nothing more, like he\'d tricked Kerr somehow. It was laughable really, to think that the vampire mistrusted him, when Kerr was one of Them, and could do anything he liked.
 
When the question was snapped at him, Ben hadn\'t been expecting it, so blinked a couple of times as he flinched back and lowered his eyes to his hands, that lay resting on his lap, blushing fiercely. It was a question that he answered though; promptly, emotionally.
 
"You\'ve done more than I expected already," he admitted. "It was nice, it was intimate, it had a happy ending." He was alive, after all. "When I came here I meant for this to happen, so I got what I wanted. But I\'m not here to get myself off on it, though now I understand why others do." His friends would no longer be revered for doing what they did. "I just wanted to know. I\'ve always wanted to know, everything about Them. I\'ve read books, watched movies, been some kind of weirdo fan, I suppose." He frowned now, and lifted his gaze to Kerr\'s shirt, too embarrassed to look up into the vampire\'s eyes. "I\'d be lying if I said I didn\'t want to be a part of it. I mean, who doesn\'t want to live forever?" Now he looked up at Kerr, expecting to be yelled at again, his expression betraying this new fear. "But it\'s knowledge I came here for, tonight.  Not anything else."

[Existentially Odd]

Again Ben had used the word \'them\', like it meant something. Something to be revered, no doubt. A word that had become an entity unto itself in the mortal\'s mind, if he was as intrigued by it all as his tone and carefully-chosen words indicated that he was. Weirdo fan, indeed. Kerr found his stern front melting when he was offered an answer that seemed more than sincere, and his gaze lifted from the candle and went to the boy\'s.

The vampire was obviously too mixed up in his own dramas at the moment, to be thinking straight. First Sawyl had gone for a week, leaving him to deal with the freaks alone, then he\'d met Mandy and Wyl had come back... it made for a confusing state of being. Especially considering he\'d never been one to get himself in the mix. Now here he was with a pliant young man who obviously had no real experience behind him to enable him to make a smart decision - who was, nevertheless, kind enough to offer his blood - and all he\'d been after was an encounter that was out of the ordinary. Some exclusive knowledge. Siring was certainly part of the folklore, part of the vampire phenomenon. Maybe he was just being overly defensive, and it wasn\'t Ben\'s fault. It was his own bad experiences that were causing him to shut Ben\'s harmless questions down.

He\'d treated him harshly, and he regretted that; it was not particularly noble of him. He sidled closer to the young man and placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder, feeling almost as awkward with the physical contact now as he\'d been relaxed with it during the feeding. He had to admit, he didn\'t like the way the hunger changed him.

"I apologise for leaping to conclusions," he told the blonde quietly.  "In truth, you\'ve broached my demons and I didn\'t mean to be so harsh. To... enlighten you... I," his gaze fell again as he chose his words carefully, feeling that he should explain and overcome the nastiness of his earlier words. But he fucking didn\'t want to. It was like a physical ache he needed to overcome; a dull, throbbing cyst deep within his gut that needed to be negotiated around, to speak of them.

"I sired another, once.  As a favour to my sire. It... wasn\'t a pleasant experience and it continues to be so, to this day. The process... changed them. Well, I don\'t know for sure what they were like before, because I barely knew them and the event of my embrace happened just a few nights prior - a week or so, I think - but I\'ve always felt the burden of it. Literally and spiritually. I regret it and I don\'t like to talk about that. Anything else I can share with you, however, I\'d be happy to," he offered, meeting Ben\'s gaze frankly. It didn\'t occur to him that the mixing of his pronouns could cause the boy confusion... sired another...changed them... it was hard to define the twins as a single or double being, anyway.  He doubted the mortal would need any more explanation than he\'d offered; he certainly felt it enough.

He suddenly felt like the moon emerging from the constraints of thick black clouds. Once past the ugly admission of his greatest mistake, he found it easier to talk, to consider all the things he coud say. He\'d never had the opportunity to share what he was with a mortal before, not openly. It could be a welcome experience - and good practise for when he told Mandy. If he told her. He took his hand off Ben\'s shoulder, so that he would feel free to relax again and ask anything he wished to.

[Trillian]

Ben was heartened by Kerr\'s softening. A hint of a smile touched his lips and he allowed it to grow when his shoulder was touched. He felt at ease with Kerr, unlike the vampire\'s sudden awkwardness, Ben relaxed more so because of what they had shared. He had nothing else but sexual overtones to compare it to. To him, what they\'d shared was much like kissing, more intimate than making out, yet not as complete as the act itself. It was like... third base.
 
He listened to Kerr\'s words like the world would end if he missed anything. Every piece of information was crucial, no matter how vague. He didn\'t catch the mixture of plural, for when Kerr had said \'them\' he\'d inserted vampire-kind in his mind. It was not \'them\' but Them to him, and he\'d made the exchange into singular anyway.
 
"So you made a mistake that you\'re still paying for," Ben said sadly. "I\'m sorry I brought it up." This apology was genuine. "How about when you were sired? Can you talk about that? What it was like?"
 
This kind of information was not what he\'d be able to find in a book. He could only hope Kerr would relive that moment for him in words.
 
In the back of his mind he was wondering who that sire was, if he or she was still around, if they were still with Kerr, if Kerr would introduce them, if Kerr\'s sire would like him, if Kerr could be influenced by his sire - and it sounded like he was.

[Existentially Odd]

"When I was sired," he stated numbly, knowing that he could talk about that, but not entirely sure he would want to.  But the mortal looked so interested and he had been rather mean to him.  He supposed it was the least he could do.

Kerr\'s gaze shifted away from the eager stare and up to the left corner of the ceiling, as he attempted to recall the events leading up to his embrace. Things... memories... that he hadn\'t contemplated in so long that they were hard to find - even harder to bring to the surface - came to him... but slowly. It took him a full five minutes to get everything in order, to figure out how to lay it out. To decide how best to tell his tale; which he\'d never shared with anyone. Not even those who\'d been a part of it, really.

He didn\'t pay any attention to what Ben did in all that time, though he may have fidgeted or spoken when he began to think that he would get no story; Kerr paid him no mind until he was ready to begin. And when he looked back, those blue eyes were as bright and keen as they had been when he\'d first begun selecting and constructing his thoughts into a coherent order. So he simply began, his voice sombre in tone and thick with the Irish accent he\'d begun to lose a century ago, when he\'d said goodbye to his homeland more permanently.

"I was born on the first day of the new year, sixteen hundred and six, the only son of Donahue and Bridget Galvin. They were... umpteenth generation Irish, noble and proud that their line had resisted Viking and Norman invasions... mainly because their lands were too out of the way to be noticed. Oh, they were just grand for the sheep we ran, the flax we grew, there in our home of Killarney, but really we were just lucky that we never became a target for invasion," he drawled, his gaze falling on the candle once more, teeth biting at his stud for a few moments. He then waved a dismissive hand, as if casting this information aside.

"We were what you might call nobles; employing people to work the land, fairly safe in our situation.  We weren\'t the only well to do family in the area, but we were respected. I remember my father as a good businessman; he could talk anyone around, whether they were intent on trouble or making a deal. He had a loud, contagious laugh and the annoying habit of smacking people hard on the shoulder when he\'d had too much to drink," Kerr said, his lips twisting into a fond smile as he recalled this fact. It was really all he could remember, after so long.  With a shake of his head, he then looked at Ben once more, his expression growing troubled.

"I was born at the time that England began to stake her claim on our country and there was dissent while I grew up... but the political stuff didn\'t touch our hearts nearly as much as the frequent deaths did. For as long as anyone could remember, people died mysteriously in our village. Young, old, pretty, ugly... it didn\'t much matter. There was no rhyme nor reason to it, just one day you\'d wake up and there\'d be a corpse by a roadside or something. There were talks of curses and unGodliness of course; but the source was far more tangible and a lot nastier. Angus Sully. He was the most foul, evil son of a bitch that ever walked this earth, and an immortal. Not that anybody knew that then. He did some truly foul things in his time - and to this day I have no idea how long that time even was.  I only know when it ended, because I helped do it."

His jaw had a visible tightness to it as it lifted and he looked down his aquiline nose at the mortal, as if expecting retribution. Or perhaps a question; but he didn\'t give the other the chance to ask one.

"In 1612," he began, then faltered.

No, don\'t talk about them, he asked about your siring, what it was like.

"Uh... I meant in 1626," he corrected, offering an apologetic smile as his gaze slipped briefly to the couch that he\'d suddenly gripped. He forced his fingers to uncurl and looked back at Ben, his composure slightly shaken but his determination apparent, "a child by the name of Sawyl Loman was born." At the mere mention of his name, Kerr\'s face lit up in a smile, his eyes glistening with pride and a love that he couldn\'t hide. Such was the way whenever he thought of his beloved, his sire.

"He was small and beautiful and as much the darling of the village as his family was reviled. Possibly he was loved so much because he\'d come from some enormous trouble and scandal - though it wasn\'t his fault how and what he was born to," the vampire added hastily, defensively. "Anyway, when he was eleven, he still had the look of a chubby, happy eight year old. Truly, he looked an angel. Angus Sully coveted that beauty, that innocence, and he took him one night and locked Wyl in his home. It was a fortress, would never have been penetrable - had anyone even known. The countryside was scoured for a week, but no sign of the bairn was found. The child\'s family were distraught, mothers in the region began keeping their children in their bedrooms, fathers began carrying weapons and talking of revenge. But no-one knew against what... and it had always happened. Nobody said it, but everyone knew that soon they\'d find him, white as a ghost and twice as dead, behind a barn or floating in one of the lakes... with no explanation, just like all the rest had been found. Except this time... we never did."

Kerr\'s deep brown gaze became pained as he relived the horror of the situation. No wonder he\'d pushed this story from his memory...

"Unspeakable things were done to the child in that tower; sordid, horrible acts. And then Angus decided to sire the child and curse him to remain forever at his side. Forever to be tortured. But Sawyl was as cunning as he was terrified by that stage. It took him a year, but he eventually convinced Angus that they would need some help or... some money or... something," he frowned and shook his head, indicating that he had never got the full story out of Sawyl but that he didn\'t feel it really mattered. "Whatever it was and for whatever reason, Sawyl chose me. Might have been for my lands, my money... or maybe just because I came from a trusted name, had a good relationship with everyone in the village. Had good connections. Whatever it was, Sawyl came to me and lured me to that demon\'s home. He didn\'t tell me his full plan - he was too small, you see, too small to drink and make me on his own. He needed Angus\' help to make me; and then he needed my help to kill Angus."

His face fell into a troubled scowl then, as that walk through the misty rain, in the pitch black of that long lost night came back to him. He couldn\'t remember enough of it; couldn\'t recall what Wyl had said to get him to the keep in the first place, what Angus had said in greeting; nor even how it all transpired. Ben would no doubt be unhappy with this, but it was the truth. He looked apologetically at the mortal.

"I\'m sorry, but I don\'t really remember how it all went. Just that it was fast; I walked in and then Sawyl was upon me, at my neck. I... fell down. There in the entranceway, I believe. It was... fast, because I was scared. It was like someone was playing a fyfe right in my ears... it was loud and dizzying. I know being drunk from can be beautiful, but it wasn\'t for me. My heart was racing so hard and Sawyl had fasted specially for it, that he took everything he could accept, as fast as was possible. I\'ve since learned that it was because it was so fast, that it hurt so badly. Well, I went into shock and I passed out. Not very exciting, eh? I recall that I woke up drinking - it tasted horrible, I tried not to, but I was forced onto Sawyl\'s wrist by Angus, until I\'d got most of it back and in me - and then I passed out again. When next I rose, I was dying and... ohhhhh fuck I remember that... hurt!" he chuckled, giving Ben a wry grin as a finger pointing downwards at the blue velvet of the seat emphasised his final two words.

The jocular tone and the smile faded as his thoughts turned inward again. The frown returned and he stared moodily at the candle. "Dying hurt. I remember that. But... it passed," he finished softly, and said no more as he stared into the flickering light... and the past.

[Trillian]

Before the tale was woven, Ben patiently sat - shifting in his seat only when he thought the story wouldn\'t come, but seeing that Kerr was thinking he gathered that the other was figuring out how best to approach the subject, so Ben remained quiet.
 
The history given him was a pleasant surprise, he\'d thought Kerr would begin with a brief description of his sire and then launch into how he\'d been turned. What Ben got was far better than an extract - it had been Kerr\'s life. And subsequent death.
 
When Kerr tripped over the year, recognition of a secret kept flickered behind Ben\'s eyes. He wouldn\'t press him for it, the story he was being told was in such detail he didn\'t want to ruin it - but he imprinted that date into his memory. 1612.
 
A child vampire! Books had stated such things were a travesty, others still declared this to be an impossibility. Of course it was possible, Ben had made a connection right away that if an adult could be sired, why not a child? Though he understood why such a thing was immoral.
 
Then the act itself was described, and it was obviously a bad experience. A shame that Kerr could not know what Ben knew about being drunk from. He wouldn\'t understand the lust behind it, the personal quality to it. As Ben had been kissed, Kerr had been raped.
 
By the time Kerr\'s story came to a pause, Ben\'s lightheadedness was completely gone. The concentration had somehow helped him, but he would find out it was merely a mental effect and that his balance would not be quite so controllable once he stood up.  For now, he shot questions at Kerr like a machine gun.
 
"What happened then? Did they teach you? How long did you spend with them?"
 
How did Angus get killed?
 
He held back on that one.

[Existentially Odd]

"Them..." Kerr murmured, remaining in his trance-like pose. "Sawyl did. Angus didn\'t have much to do with me at all - except to laugh at my disgust when he brought people for me to eat. They were people I knew! I couldn\'t do that to them!" he cried, his horrified expression swinging back to Ben\'s. "He taught me, though. He taught me to hate, to understand that I could kill - I\'d never killed anything until then, not even a sheep, my father always did it. But when he killed my mother I felt it; a rage so strong and powerful that I wanted to tear him limb from limb."

Kerr\'s upper lip was curled, he spoke through clenched teeth, the power of that hatred and burning desire to hurt and maim in revenge able to transcend clearly the centuries since the events he was describing had transpired.

"I knew what he\'d done to the boy - Wyl had told me everything in an effort to have me help him kill his tormentor - but it had only filled me with revulsion and a horror so great I was weak. I was weak. New to being a vampire, hating myself for it; hating them for doing it to me. I\'d been a good Catholic lad, held faith in the Lord and always been thankful for the blessings me and my family received. Then, without my consent, I was never able to walk in the sunlight again, never able to set foot on holy ground, spurned by all that was good and embraced by the most..." he halted in his rapid speech, stumped by the lack of a descriptive enough adjective to convey his utter loathing of the beast that had taken him, the beast he\'d become. His hand flapped as his mind searched, but it didn\'t help. He simply couldn\'t express how fundamentally wrong everything had been to him, "evil, horrible, dark, rank things that I\'d ever heard of.  And I was one of them!"

A fist pounded his chest as he sat forward, eyes wide, all the better to glare at the mortal with. He let the statement hang and eventually sat back, shaking his head. He thought to look at his watch then, and realised with a start that he\'d done far too much talking; it was after seven thirty and he\'d promised Mandy he\'d meet her at her apartment around eight. He\'d just have to stop pontificating and get on with it.

"Well anyway; I was Sawyl\'s toy and he told me everything about what I was, how it would be, how Angus had treated him. Suffice to say that I was crippled by my horror - of them and myself - that I survived on animal blood alone and half hoped that someone would find me and kill me before I could become what they were.  I didn\'t blame Sawyl, it wasn\'t his fault, was it?  He had become what he was shaped to be. No, it was all that hideous, scaly-skinned beast Angus Sully\'s fault. He was a despicable creature - and so ugly! Long, clawed fingers, red eyes, bat-like face," Kerr intoned critically, mouth twisted and a mock shiver running through him to add to the effect as his own shapely hands moved eloquently around his pleasant features in vague, molding gestures.

"I was locked in with Sawyl - who could come and go, but I was too weak and confused to attempt to get out - for about a month. Maybe two. I learned everything I didn\'t want to know in that time, especially how desperate the angel was to get back to his family.  I sympathised... no, I empathised, but I was a wreck, I didn\'t see how it could be done. Angus dragged me out of the tower room occasionally, to tempt me to feed on live victims and make me watch them feed - he and Wyl - but all I did was cringe and cry and call for God throughout the whole ordeal, so Angus grew very angry with me. He wanted to teach me a lesson, force me to \'let go of worldly ties\', he called it," the vampire imparted, his tone as mocking as that of a child bully taunting one much smaller and more cowardly. "So he grabbed my mam, and killed her before me - after she understood the full horror of what her only child had become and it was as torturous as it could possibly be for everyone, of course. And while he fed on her, thinking I was still whimpering in the corner as I usually did, I grabbed an axe and separated his head from his body. It was... cathartic," the elder intoned sweetly, a smile at last touching his lips.

"Sawyl put his head on the lawn on one side of the house, I dragged his body to the other and when the sun rose, it disintegrated. The next night I... took my mother\'s body home and... I t-told my ffather..." his throat worked as he was unexpectedly taken by the power of these memories. He hadn\'t anticipated that it would still be able to effect him so strongly, when everything else was like the blur of an eight millimetre film shot in poor lighting and shown on a reel that had a bump in it; disconnected and scratchy. His gaze left Ben\'s and he stared just below his cheekbone instead, unable to share that, either. He forced a smile, though he supposed it was obvious that he didn\'t feel it, that he wasn\'t actually looking at anything, his eyes were focussed on long-dead events. "I shouldn\'t have done that; told him. It was too much for him to bear. It killed him, eventually. So then all I had was Sawyl," he finished with a distracted shrug, still looking dazedly at the young man\'s fresh pores and thinking of everything else that he could say, but wouldn\'t.

[Trillian]

Halfway through the second part of Kerr\'s dramatic tale, Ben\'s lips parted. He remained that way, looking both awed and horrified for Kerr\'s sake. No wonder the vampire wasn\'t keen on siring anyone.
 
But he\'d said never again, which meant he\'d done it once, and they were still with him, making his life miserable. Is that what he feared, another mistake? It all seemed very complicated. Should Ben be successful in his eventual siring, wouldn\'t that mean he would be a part of this nasty web? The child vampire - Sawyl - sounded... intimidating. No doubt he\'d always be underestimated.
 
When Kerr finished, Ben shut his mouth with a snapping together of teeth, and a frown touched his brows. He was thoughtful for a moment while most of it sank in, though it seemed such a dark and weary tale. And there was even more that Kerr wished not to discuss. 1612.
 
"I can\'t even begin to understand what you went through," he acknowledged. "You\'re so very strong to have survived it." There had always been respect in Ben\'s tone for Kerr, but now it had returned in strong waves. Ben was in awe, as though Kerr had switched on a light and tried to explain electricity to someone from the roman empire. There was a detachment Ben felt from it all that he knew was entirely personal to Kerr, and even though he\'d seen glimmers of that emotion surfacing in Kerr\'s face and words, he was struck by how well Kerr was recounting it.
 
Was it time that had given him strength? He found that there were very few questions that felt appropriate being asked. He remembered the glance at the watch and the hurried words after it before Kerr got back into his storytelling rhythm.
 
"If you have to be somewhere," he began, but didn\'t finish it. His cool blue eyes searched Kerr\'s face for a clue before he pursued the course he intended on taking. "If you have to go now, I\'d like to see you again." This was said in a manner that was both bashful and demanding. A strange combination to be sure, because Ben was feeling odd about asking though he felt it most necessary to voice his request. "I\'d rather not meet here, though," he added, as if Kerr had already said yes.

[Existentially Odd]

Strong to have survived it? He\'d certainly never seen himself in such a light. Physically strong, yes, but Ben was referring to an emotional and spiritual strength that he simply couldn\'t agree to. His world had fallen apart, he\'d fucked it over little by little even after he\'d got out of that hell house... and he\'d survived. Got through it. He hadn\'t exactly come out the other side of it with a spring in his step and a song to greet every new night, though. He\'d made decisions, put one foot in front of the other and moved on. He wasn\'t strong, he just was; Sawyl and the twins were his responsibility - fate had sealed that deal even before he\'d agreed to it - and there was always some new place to consider, something else to overcome, as part of his role. He was head of the household, protector of his fold; he\'d never given his state of being a whole lot of thought. Odd, that someone who barely knew him would, but he supposed it was all a matter of perspective.

Disappointment filled him at the mortal\'s final words.  Not meeting him here - which he\'d begun to hope, through his sharing, would happen again - meant that he likely wouldn\'t be permitted to drink from Ben any more.  Certainly the exact opposite of his hopes, but he didn\'t let it show, offering a small, apologetic smile as he looked at those bright blue eyes once more.

"I do have to go, actually. I have a... date," he\'d floundered over the word, but decided fairly quickly that that was what it indeed was. The word had been used the night before, there was no use denying the fact, or the astonished pleasure with which it filled him. "I promised I\'d be there at eight and... well, the time\'s got away from us." He chuckled as he got to his feet, not addressing Ben\'s latter comments.

Selfishly, he felt that he\'d shared quite a bit with the mortal but if he didn\'t want to meet at Risk again, he was more or less putting a stop to any further exchanges - of information and blood - that might be made. Why would he agree to meet him elsewhere just to give away more of the history he didn\'t care to connect with, and receive nothing in return? He had enough on his schedule lately, without arranging meetings akin to therapy.

Still, he watched the boy closely from his standing position, ready to catch him when he got to his feet - if he was as unsteady as Kerr suspected he would be. He looked quite pale, and Kerr had already worked the walking of the mortal downstairs for some refreshments into his schedule. He wasn\'t that ungentlemanly.

[Trillian]

Ben realised there was no presence of promise, and the lack of acknowledgement about meeting once again was distinct. Disappointment was shared between Ben and Kerr but for different reasons. Ben didn\'t like the club scene, the fact that it made him feel cheap, that the curtain-walled room was something out of a tacky bourdois (in his opinion). He didn\'t want to give himself away to others, and he had no real power here. If a vampire wanted him, they were likely to have him. Avoiding eye contact would only get him so far. It was dangerous for a mortal inside this club, but it seemed not to matter to Kerr, who perhaps disbelieved his earlier statement of not wishing to be shared. Ben misread the disappointment as dismissal, that he\'d been humoured.
 
Oh, he was grateful, and Kerr was his peer, set upon a pedestal, but Ben also felt like the child who asked their baseball hero to sign a ball and was told to buzz off, kid, not when I\'m busy. The story had been the Big Game, the outpouring was a Home Run. Inside his head, an imaginery crowd cheered. Why was it not good enough? Such contradictions, his mind was whirling.
 
"Alright," he said quietly, turning his head so he didn\'t have to look at Kerr anymore. He stood up, realising that he\'d been set aside as a toy that was no longer any fun. He swayed a little as his balance was a bit difficult to regain, still looking away from Kerr. Payment had been given him for his blood in a form of a story, and storytime was now over boys and girls, time for a nap.
 
He stumbled, threw out a hand to catch the table to steady himself and to his horror he clutched at air. His hand caught the edge of the chair upon which he\'d sat on the way down, but couldn\'t stop his fall.  Getting up too soon had made him dizzy. He\'d underestimated what the loss of blood and no replenishing sugar would do to his body.  He would no doubt be finding himself sprawled upon the floor in humiliation.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr stepped in calmly and snagged Ben\'s flailing arm, his hand gaining a firm grip on the plummetting bicep before he got close enough to wrap an arm around his waist and more firmly support him. It happened fast enough that he was pretty sure the blonde\'s nether regions didn\'t get a chance to contact the couch again, let alone the floor he was vaguely heading for. He worked the mortal\'s arm around his shoulders, giving the shorter man a concerned look as he hauled him into a more upright position, hefting his weight very easily.
 
"I told you you should have some food," he chastised gently, marching him out through the curtain and pausing in the corridor beyond it. He hadn\'t ever had cause to visit the mortal replenishment room but he was pretty certain... he spied a staircase leading downwards, more or less beneath the first section of the stairs that led upwards. That had to be it.

He walked his new charge - well, carried was a more accurate assessment, but he did it slowly enough that the man wouldn\'t feel he was being totally supported and thereby humiliated - to the unmarked landing, surprised by the very \'basement\' look to the stairs. They were neatly decorated, but there was no bannister and descended into relative darkness. Kerr was glad, for Ben\'s sake, that there was no-one in the corridor, nor in the plush area downstairs when they got there. It was a mutely lit, comfortable room, strewn with large three seater couches and a few large refrigerators against the wall. The flourescent tubes in the electric monsters shed most of the light on the room, in fact, and advertised their contents. There were soft drinks, milk drinks and juices in one, cookies and chocolates and cakes in another and the third - situated the closest to a kitchen style bench that boasted a microwave and squatted in the corner - held microwaveable fast foods like hot dogs and burritoes.

Kerr walked Ben to a sofa that had a good view of the refrigerated soldiers, settling him with a concerned look. "What can I get for you?" he asked, pressing his hands together nervously and watching the mortal for clues. It disturbed him that he wouldn\'t meet his eyes any more, though the niggle of noticing that was secondary to his discomfort over choosing food for the one he\'d fed from.

[Trillian]

When he was caught his cheeks burned with embarrassment, which he guessed was secondary only to the humiliation he would have felt if he\'d actually connected with the floor itself.  Strangely - and against his own wishes, he thought - he was pleased he\'d been caught and held in Kerr\'s arms, placed upright and looked after.  This acknowledgement of his own neediness disgusted him, and he tried his best not to think about it, almost pulling away but held fast by the vampire\'s arm.
 
Being ushered to the basement area below Risk left him feeling strangely as though he was a wayward child on the way to punishment.  He knew the reason for coming down here was for food, and wasn\'t surprised by the sprawl of goodies that awaited him for no cost (for it had been described to him by someone who had been here before him).  He couldn\'t shake the feeling that Kerr wasn\'t impressed with him, however, and so he averted his gaze, finding things to distract him as they walked.
 
"Juice," he said with a shrug, as though he\'d not really made up his mind.  He knew he really should get some sugar into him, but had no appetite.  There was no please or thank you, just a sullen silence that paired with an expressionless gaze that burned a hole into the floor.