Joscelin Fitzthomas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dredefulchilde) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
voidtreckerexpress2019-10-05 08:39 pm
dredefulchilde) wrote in voidtreckerexpress2019-10-05 08:39 pm
Entry tags:
A Midnight Snack
Who: Joscelin and Reigen. And you, if you want to join the party.
Where: Kitchen
When: Bassoon, Day 16 (the wee hours of the morning, before they stop at the station)
What: Joss gets peckish, and Reigen learns there's more to this "anemia" thing than he thought.
Warning: Blood!
Joscelin has only the faintest of memories of the last two days. He remembers boarding the train and then falling into his bunk, still clothed. After that, everything is hazy. He must have gotten up to change at some point, because when he comes to himself again roughly forty-eight hours later he's in his pajamas. The rest is blessedly blank nothingness.
He's still very weak, but being comatose for two days straight at least took care of the last of the poison in his system. Now, he needs blood. He needs to gorge himself on the stuff, replenishing his reserves. And he needs to do it soon, because his roommates look and smell like tasty snacks and he'd promised he'd be good.
The tiny vampire pulls on a hoodie and staggers towards the kitchen and the Magic Refrigerator. His salvation.
...
When Reigen comes in twenty minutes later, he's finishing his seventh bag, sucking on it like a juice box. He'll have a sore tummy from stuffing himself like this later on, but he doesn't mind. He's finally sated.
Where: Kitchen
When: Bassoon, Day 16 (the wee hours of the morning, before they stop at the station)
What: Joss gets peckish, and Reigen learns there's more to this "anemia" thing than he thought.
Warning: Blood!
Joscelin has only the faintest of memories of the last two days. He remembers boarding the train and then falling into his bunk, still clothed. After that, everything is hazy. He must have gotten up to change at some point, because when he comes to himself again roughly forty-eight hours later he's in his pajamas. The rest is blessedly blank nothingness.
He's still very weak, but being comatose for two days straight at least took care of the last of the poison in his system. Now, he needs blood. He needs to gorge himself on the stuff, replenishing his reserves. And he needs to do it soon, because his roommates look and smell like tasty snacks and he'd promised he'd be good.
The tiny vampire pulls on a hoodie and staggers towards the kitchen and the Magic Refrigerator. His salvation.
...
When Reigen comes in twenty minutes later, he's finishing his seventh bag, sucking on it like a juice box. He'll have a sore tummy from stuffing himself like this later on, but he doesn't mind. He's finally sated.
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No one aside from Joscelin, apparently. Reigen's first instinct is to be glad to see the kid awake after the rough time back in Goblin Town (he's already forgotten the actual name), but then he sees what Joscelin is drinking. The kid is slurping on one of his IV bags like it's a Capri Sun.
"I'm pretty sure that's not how blood transfusions work."
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"Really though, who are you, Joscelin? You have a weird tattoo on your body, you don't have a scratch on you after getting shot, and now you've got little baby fangs while drinking blood--" That last part hits him as he says it, and everything feels much more obvious. Reigen's seen movies.
"Oh. Oh, you're...ok." He shrugs nonchalantly. After all the other wild things he's heard, Joss might as well be a vampire.
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“When one becomes a vampire, much is made of the eternal life aspect, but they tend not to focus on the...unpleasantries that sustain it. I ran out of my bagged blood early on, and the goblins were hardly better than animals in terms of how well their blood kept me going. It’s human blood or nothing. So my injuries did not heal as fast as they should have, leading to that embarrassing spectacle on the last day. You have my thanks for your assistance, by the way.”
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"So stuff like eating raw steak wouldn't work out. Damn, at least we have access to blood here. Now I'm surprised you didn't take any light snacks with how bad of a shape you got in. Does it work like the movies where if you bite someone, they turn into a vampire too?" He pauses when he's thanked. "Oh, that? Don't mention it, I couldn't just leave you like that."
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He shrugs at the raw steak. “I enjoy steak tartare as much as anyone else, but as animals are drained of blood before they are butchered, I don’t derive any nutritional benefit from it. No, I’m happy to say that I’m on the wagon. I haven’t killed anyone not deserving of it in....” He breaks off and thinks for a moment. “Two or there years. Haven’t actually drunk from a human in at least a year.”
When Reigen asks about the process to create vampires, he laughs a little. This is refreshing. No artifice, no pretending. “If that were the case, we vampires would have destroyed the entire human race centuries ago. It’s simple math.
“In order to become a vampire, the vampire must give their victim some of their blood, then drain them to the point of death. Some hours after death, the human revives and has only a single night in which to feed on human blood. If they fail to do so, death becomes irreversible. Luckily...well, maybe not luckily, the instinct to drink blood is very strong. I didn’t know what had happened to me, when I first woke up, but even I had no trouble with my first kill, confused child though I was.”
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Reigen's relieved that Joss hasn't actually killed and eaten anyone in a long time, all things considered. He smiles a little. "Well, that's good. Proud of you." Hearing that someone doesn't just become a vampire from being fed on alone, he nods in thought. "So I wouldn't become a vampire if you needed to take blood from me? Cool."
Completely casual about the idea, he gets to preparing himself a cup of coffee once the pot is done. "I mean, only in an emergency. Like if we end up in a situation like that city again, when you're out of blood and you might die. I'm a healthy adult, I can handle it."
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Joss nods. “Only at greatest need. And only with permission. I spent too many centuries using my coercive powers on others to get what I want. I won’t do it anymore.”
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"Wait, the 1880s? How old are you?!"
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If it weren’t for the elves, Joscelin would be the oldest person on the train. He’s also the second smallest, after Conan.
“Immorality has its drawbacks. I haven’t grown since the fourteenth century.”
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At least the fictional guys like Dracula got to be adults in their prime: poor Joscelin has to be a pre-pubescent cherub for eternity.
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Joss opens the refrigerator door again, pondering the food inside. Now that he’s gorged himself on blood, maybe he ought to wash it down with something solid.
“A pity there isn’t more candy on board.”
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Usually he gets quite a bit more pushback.
“Any other burning questions about my undeath that I can answer? I’d say you’ve earned the right to ask.”
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He takes a sip of his coffee. "Well, I did see that you have a tattoo...does that have anything to do with the being undead thing?"
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“No,” Joscelin replies softly, “I’m not a good person. I’m just an excellent actor.”
He’s a monster. He’ll always be a monster. He’s killed countless numbers of people, and mass murderers don’t get redemption arcs. At best, he just hides his true nature well.
He shakes his head. “That mark has nothing to do with my being a vampire. I acquired it recently. This is not the first time I’ve found myself taken away from my world. A little more than a year ago I found myself in another world, without the benefit of my memories or the knowledge of what I really am. This mark was given to me there, by a woman who became my foster mother. It was...nice. I was happier not remembering. I miss it.”
Joss suddenly realizes he’s said too much. “Anyway, ask Romeo about his mark sometime; he’s got one too. And you might as well ask why he doesn’t have a pulse. I met him there, in that other world, and now he’s the closest thing to family I have on this fucking train.”
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That's Reigen's perspective, at least. He doesn't know what Joss has done or gone through, but making the effort to not harm others has to count for something.
"Oh..." That explains what Joss was muttering about when he was sick, but Reigen decides not to comment on it to avoid embarrassing the kid (who's older than him by several centuries but whatever.
"Man, does being taken to other worlds just happen all over? How have I not known this?" He frowns at the tidbit about Romeo not having a heartbeat though. "Oh, your friend doesn't...is Romeo-kun ok?"
It could just be another thing like Joscelin's paleness and body temperature, but one could never be too sure. Besides, Romeo didn't seem like a vampire.
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Mum and Ginia. The two women had helped him find a something resembling conscience somewhere inside of him. Maybe one day he’ll even be a real boy.
“Romeo’s dead,” he says bluntly, “But in a different way from how I’m dead. Romeo is a soul, used by a god to become...a weapon of sorts against evil spirits. Honestly no one should be able to see and interact with him besides me, but he seems to be doing fine, save for the lack of a heartbeat. I used to be like him. My vessel form changed depending on which god I served, but I’m a short sword when my foster mother fights with me. The symbol on my stomach is a name. It binds me to her. She calls it and I transform into a weapon and then she kicks evil spirit arse using me. Romeo is some kind of rodent, which I always found quite funny. The odd thing is, I got my memories back, and my old body, when I came here. Romeo has neither.”
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Reigen can't help but think about Mob: a large part of what motivates him to keep trying is because Mob needs a good role model, and for whatever reason still considers him a good person. He didn't want to make the kid into a liar.
"Huh...so like a ghost? Ok." He nods, that explanation is probably the easiest to wrap his head around out of everything here. "So are you able to turn into a sword still, or did you lose that when you got your vampire body back? Because not gonna lie, being able to turn into a sword sounds super cool." Like something out of a manga...the adventures of Joss the Sword Boy.
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Seriously, Romeo is just too good for this world.
"Not anymore. You saw it--it looks like an old tattoo now. Even if my foster mother were here, she wouldn't be able to summon me. I'm a 'real boy' again, I suppose."
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At hearing Joss can't turn into a sword any more, Reigen gave a small 'tsk' of mild disappointment. "Darn, we could have teamed up if you still could. Oh well." Can Reigen wield a sword? No! But it's the thought that counts.
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"Only the god that a shinki is contracted with can wield them as a weapon. You're just a normal human."
He waves his hand.
"But that's all right. I'll daresay I'm quite a bit more lethal now that I'm back to my old self."
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"Way to call me out...it's probably better that you're physically fighting though. Just don't overdo it."
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He chuckles a little bit longer and then goes quiet, introspective.
"You know, I wonder what kind of poison those goblins used on their bolts and arrows," he muses, thinking back on the last several days. "It felt quite like a poison I've encountered back home. It's a blood toxin--not lethal to vampires, but certainly not pleasant. Getting shot felt like that, only several orders of magnitude worse. I don't recommend it."
But then he shakes his head, and looks up at Reigen.
"Well, it's no matter. Tell me about yourself, Reigen. What do you do, back in your own world?"
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"Oh, me? I'm a paranormal consultant. Ghosts and curses are a big problem in my world, so people come to psychics all the time for help. I also happen to be one of the most affordable ones in the area, so that works in my favor. The private union guys can't stand me, though."
Reigen says that last bit with a weird sense of pride. Not that he likes pissing people off, but the irresponsible psychics that overcharge make it hard not to enjoy knocking them down a peg.
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He grins.
"And the dead themselves, of course. Though I find ghosts tend to be rather poor conversationalists. There's a ghost hunting union?"
Will wonders never cease.
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He shrugs a little. Gaining the ability to see ghosts hasn't changed that much about his life, honestly.
"Yeah, they call themselves a union, but it seems more like an expensive clubhouse to me? I kneed their leader in the stomach once. That's probably why he hates me."