#I like to think that Harry and his mirror neurons would probably think similar things

[bluastro-yellow]

it would have been too on the nose but I like to imagine Harry pestering Kim about how [person they just met in Martinaise] is "just like him fr T_T"

[howboutdemwings]

In which I boss @Luchas_L around...

Lassiter - <The walls of the mansion weren't as sound proof as the occupants liked to think they were, if I listened hard enough, I could generally catch a convo or two happening near by. Generally speaking, I avoided eavesdropping on the ones that were more sounds and grunts than words. The doggen were some of my more entertaining group to listen to. The things they spoke about when they thought nobody was around to hear was comedy. Fritz actually was a bit of a mess when he cooked but only because he liked spending his time in the kitchen more than anywhere else. Then there were the rambles of Piper. I never knew what she was going on about but that was endless entertainment too. The Chosen also gave me a chuckle or two from time to time. Their wonder and amazement at things on this side of the earth was so very innocent and pure. To the point of concern but I always left that worry to Phury and the brothers. Until today. A telephone conversation between one of the females here and another up at the Chosen camp had me deep in the bowels of the mansion. Past V's forging area and into a tiny locked Harry Potter under the stairs cupboard. The lock had been no problem in picking but the low ceiling height and tight quarters had me cursing any time I smacked my head against the floor supports or when my wings brushed up against something or another causing it to crash to the floor. Sneaky like a ninja, I was not. But thankfully it didn't take me long to find the item I sought. The branding iron Wrath had used on the male was long since cold but the memory attached to the item was fully intact and because it had served to completely alter the life of someone, I could use it to trace him which was exactly what I needed to do. Rumours floating through the mansion of a male stumbling past the mhis and onto the grounds of the Chosen's compound was not ideal and would send every male in the joint crazy. And since the only vampire I could think of to be related to a brother was the one who had been marked as a traitor, my hunch made the most sense and would be the exact same conclusion Wrath or Phury would make. Chances were good that Q's brother probably became a bit of a wandering soul and given the mark that marred his hand, he was likely having a difficult time finding a female to feed from. He needed a warning before one of the brothers hunted his ass down to give him something worse. Tucking the brand into the back of my jeans and using my wings to conceal the bulk of it beneath my shirt, I tidied up the mess of fallen boxes then closed the heavy wooden door before slipping the lock back in place before I made my way back to my room so I could do a little tracking to make sure my suspicions were correct. > Luchas: *The hike back to my humble shack was full of aching muscles and a headache that resembled what I always imagined a hangover to be like. That symphath had done a number on me. Even though I know he… she… hadn’t laid a finger on me, the mental torture had done the trick just fine, scrambling the neurons up in my brain and lighting them on fire. It was like sparklers going off under my skull. As the small cabin appeared before me, dawn’s warm warning on the back of my neck, I half expected to find the Scribe Virgin herself waiting for me on the other side of the door. No doubt she would take action after a traitor such as myself touched another of her purest creations, then went trudging into the Symphath Colony. But I was greeted with nothing but an empty cabin, the faint smell of fire lingering in the air. My shoulders sagged. In relief or disappointment? I couldn’t quite come to terms with whether I was happy I was alive or regretted that the King let me live. Death would bring an end to this burden of guilt I carried. Death was easy. Which I knew is why the King did what he did. He knew I’d suffer much worse trying to survive in a world I’d betrayed than getting my head ripped off. He didn’t want me to have easy. He wanted to punish me. I locked up for the day, checking the boarded up windows once before starting a small fire and stretching out on the couch. Despite all that had just happened, I still slipped into a deep sleep. Maybe it was like the humans after a large Thanksgiving Day meal. A full, warm, sated belly made them sleepy.* Lassiter: <After closing and locking the door to my room, I crossed over to the large French doors in a few long strides and stepped out onto the terrace that overlooked the grounds. The sun shone bright and felt warm on my skin, filling me with energy despite the temperature of the frigid air. The mansion was mostly asleep which was the reason I had chosen to go snooping around in the basement in the first place. I reached behind me to pull the branding iron out from the back of my jeans and inspected the image, picturing the mirrored version that was imprinted upon the male vampire’s hand. What an awful way to be labeled and in the same instant ostracized from an entire species. My hair fell around my face as I shook my head in disbelief. This was not the way the Creator wished for one of his children to be treated. Even if said child had disobeyed a few of the commandments along the way. Forgiveness was his thing. Always. If remorse was genuine, the bossman would forgive anything. I felt a pull to male begin to form and stitch itself to my insides, similar in the way that I had felt with Tohr, and every other one of my previous charges. It was one I knew I would not be able to deny. My eyes rose to the heavens and I blew out a breath.> Point taken, boss. <Both hands closed around the head of the iron and without trying or needing to force the memory out, it slammed into me. Screams and the sound of searing flesh filled my ears as if I were in the room as it had happened. Wrath’s deep and menacing voice echoed as he kicked the male out on his ass and stripped him of everything that was important to a vampire. I sighed and pulled myself out of the assault of images. The guilt that must weight on his shoulders would be undoubtedly overwhelmingly heavy. I wouldn't need to trace or search out his location. I could already feel the distance between us and the direction in which he was at this moment. Any time I’d been assigned a soul to save, an invisible bond was formed that allowed me to know where they were at all times and gave me the ability to see them within my mind’s eye. Right now, he was in some run down cabin, asleep. Of course. It was daylight hours so I’d have some time to execute my plan. First, I’d make a quick pit stop for my usual soul saving fare. Big Macs and fries. Perhaps a double round given the size of him and how his limbs spilled over the edges of the couch he was currently crashed upon. Then I’d flash myself inside, set the food on the table and wait for him to wake. Hopefully the peace offering would be enough for him to listen to reason and if not…well, it wouldn't be the first time I went toe to toe with a male vampire.> Luchas: *I don’t think I’d dreamed in a long time. Seemed like the less I fed, the less it happened. Maybe my brain was trying to conserve energy, grabbing onto all the rest it could get and not bothering with letting my subconscious come out to play. But today my mind took a fantastical trip. I wandered these hills and valleys, met other vampires, found a home for myself. They didn’t judge me by what I’d done, they didn’t care what my past was, we just all needed a safe place to live. I knew there had to be others out there like me. Vampires lived a millenia, pure bloodlines maybe even longer. Those kinds of miles had to had a few bumps in the road. I know I couldn’t be the first vampire to fuck up royally, and then get the royal exile from the King himself. I was pretty sure I was the only vampire that had gone full Lesser. But there had to be other criminals, other serial killers, other deviants that either met their demise or were cast off like I was with their tail between their legs. In my dream we were sitting down for Last Meal, the night giving way to early dawn as windows were locked up and deadbolts turned. Faces gathered at the table, smiles and tales of one another’s nights on the tips of our tongues. Something smelled delicious, like a warm memory from a life long ago. I searched for the source of the smell but couldn’t find it. I reached across the table, lifting plates, checking dishes, but to no avail. It was sweet, salty, and my mouth was watering for it. Then the sound of a brown paper bag caught my ear, swinging my head around to seek out the source of the most incredible smell. My eyes fluttered open, still half in my dream, the steamy aroma of burgers and fries fresh in my brain. I hummed low, hand rubbing over my stomach. That was one of the best dreams I’d had in a really long time. Usually my days were filled with bad memories and dreams that left me shaking, covered in sweat. But this was different. It was so lifelike, I could still smell the delicious meal. Movement to my side caught my eyes suddenly, my hand going still on my shirt. Someone was there, just a few feet away.* Lassiter: <My arrival to the tiny cabin in the woods was without fanfare or an announcement. One moment I had been standing in the parking lot of Mickey Ds, hands filled with bags of salty, calorie laden, artery clogging goodness and the next, I found myself standing on creaky floorboards next the blond vamp who was sawing logs and had a tiny bit of drool running out of the corner of his mouth. I peered down at him for a few moments, waiting to see if he was one of those light sleepers who roused at the sound of a feather dropping on the floor. I checked behind me to make sure all of mine were still in place then set down one of the bags on the little coffee table close to him then moved around and dragged the chair that had seen better days over to the other end of the table and parked my ass in it. As I fished out my fries and Big Mac, I could feel the wood beneath me moan and groan under my weight but it remained intact, thankfully. To keep my hands busy and away from dipping into his mind to see what he was dreaming about, I shoved a handful of fries into my mouth and chewed as I looked around. The cabin needed some love and elbow grease and a fresh coat of...something...paint maybe. I wasn’t sure it belonged to the boy, and I was pretty sure it didn’t belong to his family either. But I couldn’t blame him for squatting after he had been tossed out on his ass by Wrath. Twisting in my chair after taking a mouth full of two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, onions, pickles and a sesame seed bun, my eyes caught sight of the small wannabe kitchen and barren pantry, he was probably rationing what ever was in there and wasn’t too far from running out. No doubt, he’d be grateful for my thoughtfulness when he woke. Bite by bite, I made my way through my meal then sat back on the chair and propped my vans up on the table, waiting for him to wake. Before I could get impatient and start making a ruckus, he stirred and began to run that scarred and branded hand over his chest and stomach. A wide smile stretched my lips and just as his eyes landed on me, I smirked.> Sleeping beauty finally wakes and I didn’t even have to kiss you. <My head nodded toward the bag of food that awaited him.> You hungry, boy? <Shifting up from the chair but moving slowly, not wanting to startle him more than I already had, I moved my softly glowing hand over the bag to warm the food back up for him then sat back down.> Eat. And before you ask, no, you’re not seeing things. And yes, I really have wings. Luchas: *My eyes cleared as some sort of celestial fast-food worker appeared in front of me. What the Scribe……..were those wings? And that hair…. His face was like one of those greek statues, and his skin glowed like he drank glow-sticks for breakfast. My arms started back stroking, swimming me in reverse up the couch until I was as far away as possible from the stranger that sat in my cabin. How had he gotten in here? And I don’t mean the obvious, through the makeshift front door. I meant how did he get in here without opening it up, making noise, waking me, or burning me to ash by letting the sunshine in? I glanced down at my phone as it lay on the coffee table. It was barely one in the afternoon. But what sat next to the little rectangle with the blinking lights made all the air in my lungs whoosh out. McDonald’s. A big, steaming bag of greasy fast food. My stomach roared to life, crying over the cans of baked beans and other assorted salty vegetables and soups I’d managed to force down over the past few weeks. I slid back over on the couch and opened the bag. Fucking Fade… I was two bites into the oversized burger when my brain finally caught up. As his words replayed in my head, the questions started. Who was this guy? What’s with the radiation? How did he find me? Oh shit…* Is this your cabin? Scribe, I’m so sorry. I just needed a place to crash and came upon it. I didn’t think anyone lived here. I ah… I’m sorry about the furniture. And the doors… Lassiter: <My laugh was loud and obnoxious, the kind of laugh I saved only for the brothers when I wanted them to know they had read a situation all wrong. The kid thought I owned this POS cabin? What an assumption to make. I couldn't fault him seeing as I parked my ass on the chair like I owned it. I did that with everything though. It was just my style. When I had sucked in a couple lungfuls of oxygen, I shook my head and let my amusement filter into my voice as I spoke.> Not mine. Do you honestly think someone like me… <my wings ruffled a little to draw his attention purposely> ...would own a place like this? It looks like you're barely surviving, buddy. And I prefer more than the bare essentials if I have my way. <I gave him have a few moments to let his paranoia fade away before I spoke again, this time all humour was gone and seriousness filled the space between us.> I'm Lassiter. My halo is back at the Manse, where I heard some little chatterbugs talking about a vamp who stumbled his tall ass onto the Chosen compound. You wouldn't have any idea what I'm talking about would you? <I popped a pierced brow at the male, letting him know there would be zero room for lying or beating around the bush.> Luchas: *That one eyebrow arched so high I swear it brushed the heavens. And his wings seemed to fill the room even though he was neatly perched on the lounge chair next to me. I recognized the feeling that came over me. I had felt it before, back at the mansion. When one oversized, badass of a warrior male in leathers and wraparounds had given me the scolding of a lifetime. Branded me a traitor, cast me out, and sentenced me to a life of solitude. Power. In massive quantities. That's what this angel, Lassiter was oozing out into the cabin. I’d been good about staying off the Brotherhood’s radar, not even contacting mine own brother, Qhuinn. I kept away from vampires altogether, managing to only run into a few from my past. A victim or two, even. But I never harmed them, never showed any aggression. In fact, it frightened me to see them, the way they looked at me. A flash of the Chosen I’d fed from flashed across my mind as Lassiter questioned me like a father who caught his son sneaking in past curfew. Was she just another victim on my tab? Is that how every vampire I encountered would be labeled going forward for the rest of my life? I swallowed an unchewed bite of greasy goodness, forcing it down as I set the burger back on the wrapper. Funny how the lump in my throat remained, even as the food slid past.* The Brotherhood knows I was at the Chosen compound? I mean… Scribe, of course they do. I didn’t realize where I was until I was already through the mhis. And then there this female was, coming towards me. I hadn’t fed in so long… she offered, I didn’t force her. I’d never do that, you know. *I stared at the rest of the food, my appetite suddenly gone.* Are you here to punish me? Lassiter: <It was interesting to watch the metamorphosis of emotions fade in and out on the kid’s face. I didn't need to delve into his mind to know what he was thinking, the remorse... the guilt were all as clear as my hair was awesome. His question surprised me though and I slowly shook my head before nodding toward his food, not wanting it to be wasted. It was a Big Mac after all and that was against my code.> I'm not here to dole out any sort of punishment. Seems to me you've already endured a lifetime of that. <I couldn't help the disappointment that crept into my voice for Wrath’s choice as my eyes landed on his branded hand and my brows knit together, wondering if he knew I could remove it for him. I filed that under conversations for another time and focused on the more important matters.> None of the brothers or Wrath for that matter know you were at the compound. Not yet. I heard one of the Chosen talking on the phone about it. They simply believe you to be a brother or trainee or something like that. <easing back on the chair and folding my arms behind my head in an effort to make the kid less jumpy, I held his eyes and spoke in earnest.> I came here to help you. And warn you that a mistake like that could get you dead if you're not careful in the future. I believe it was an honest mistake and I will take care of things at the mansion for you because second chances and forgiveness seem to be lacking when it comes to you. <My eyes stayed on his until I could tell he was feeling uncomfortable before they moved around the tiny cabin again and I let out a sigh.> What exactly was your plan, Luchas? You know you can't hide here forever. Luchas: *I was so sure, so sure the fates had once again had it out for me. That one slip would define me. I hadn’t been up in the mansion proper much during my time there, but I had heard enough down in the med suite to know that the Brothers and their trainees screwed up all the time. Mine own brother was a terrific example of that. He was as stubborn as the night was long, especially when he was trying to protect the ones he loved or the Brotherhood. But with Blay at his side, he was able to find his place--and forgiveness--among Wrath’s most trusted males. I knew there were times when they fought amongst themselves, even attacked one another. Scribe knew members had even been suspended or removed over the centuries. Or simply needed some separation and time to heal. My fingers absentmindedly rubbed over my scar on the opposite hand. Now that Wrath had made my status known, I had taken a similar path. Where would it lead? I wasn’t sure yet.* I came up here looking for others like me, other outcasts. I’d heard there were groups settled north of Caldwell, I figured maybe if I came up this way I would eventually find them. And maybe they’d let me stick around. If none of us are welcome in Caldwell, then maybe we can find a place up here that’s safe. So far I haven’t found much… *I knew I’d never be welcomed at the Chosen Compound, but my mind drifted to the Symphath Colony. Sure, I had been mentally bitch-slapped by whichever one had found me near their borders. But maybe if I went back and asked again… or simply never stopped asking… they’d let me live there. Could a vampire live off of Symphath blood? I honestly didn’t know. It had to be stronger than human blood, right?* I know I can’t stay here. Even if no one is around, this cabin does belong to someone. I will fix it, the furniture and doors, and then I’ll move on. It was just a place to stay out of the sun while I looked for other vampires. Lassiter: <My head was shaking, sending my multi-coloured hair into my eyes as he spoke of seeking out others in the area. Surely he was smarter than that? Surely God wouldn't have stuck me with a charge who really did have a death wish...not even Tohr had been /that/ stupid when it came down to living and dying. I sighed out a long breath and pushed my hair back with both hands before levelling him with a piercing white gaze that left no room to argue.> Dude, that aimless wandering around to find somewhere to belong has already led to me showing up on your doorstep. If I could find you, you best believe any of the brothers could, all they'd have to do was find that lovely Chosen you fed from and she'd locate you through the blood connection. They wouldn't be so forgiving this time and you know it. They’d boot your ass out the door at high noon and think nothing of it. <My fingers tapped my temple while I spoke> Get smarter, please. The Sympath colony isn't too far from here and I can guaran-fucking-tee they won't be welcoming you with open arms unless it's to mind fuck you into insanity. <My frustrations mounted within me and I stood from my chair to pace around the small living room, as I always did when my mind was running through scenarios. I cursed under my breath knowing the rules I had to follow when trying to save a soul, he had to do the work himself and I couldn't give him the answers on how, he had to want it for himself above all else.> Luchas, you belong in Caldwell. It's not safe anywhere around here. Not after crossing the mhis like you did. <pausing in my pacing, I turned toward him and planted my fists at my sides, hoping perhaps the look might beat home the gravity of the situation he was in.> Get your life back together, find something worth living for. Something that doesn't involve wallowing over that damn mark on your hand. It's just a scar, nothing more, and when you start thinking like that rather than feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll be free of the mistakes you've made. Maybe you’ll even find a way to forgive yourself. I’ll do my best to help you along the way but if you truly want your life to be yours again, it's going to take some hard work. Luchas *I could tell there was a lot the angel wasn’t telling me. But I could guess as good as any that this was how it worked. He couldn’t interfere, he could only guide others. This wasn’t a spirit guide to hold my hand and take me on a magical adventure through the forest to get in touch with my soul. Lassiter was more like a distant but loving father. “I gave you the tools you need, figure it out yourself. And if you fail, pick up the pieces and try again until you succeed.” Maybe that’s how the humans felt about their God. Distant… requiring blind faith. I stared up at the glowy, show, f-a-b-u-l-o-u-s winged creature pacing my cabin. He seemed a bit too big a presence to thought of as distant in any way. As if he’d heard my thoughts and felt the need to personify the very God I was considering, he suddenly vanished from the room. I waited a moment to see if he’d return, but all that was left proving he’d ever been here was the rest of my Big Mac and fries. I took another bite, chewing as his words ran through my head. So the Brotherhood had it out for me if I slipped up again. No real surprise there. I know Wrath wanted me to suffer a lifetime of guilt, and so far I’d done a pretty damn good job of sticking to that punishment. But Lassiter wanted me to rebel against that, start a new life, find some purpose. It’s not that I wanted to just waste away up here in this cabin, I really did want to find other vampires to coexist with. Make a few friends, have an acquaintance to offer my blood too in return for some of theirs. I just wanted a simple life. Wasn’t that enough? Apparently to Lassiter, no, it wasn’t. Could I really be destined for more? I had been so sure my first and second act had already been played. Rather than be an old diva hanging around backstage, hanging on to nostalgia like one last aria, I’d left the theater completely. I had been cruel to mine brother Qhuinn in the first set. Paid dearly at the hands of the Lessening Society before joining the Omega himself. What else was there for a male like me? I was of no use to the race anymore. /You belong in Caldwell./ How could that be true if the King banished me? /Find something worth living for./ I looked down at my branded hand. It was like Lassiter wanted me to sign up for the volunteer firefighter department. Maybe scoop some meals at the local soup kitchen. ...Help the humans? I had gotten along well with the males at CHEMLAB. It was easy enough to blend in as long as I was out at night. Feeding would still be a problem, but up here wasn’t any better at the moment. So that was it, then. I’d go back to Caldwell and back to living with humans. And that’s when the cabin’s owner walked through the door. #BigWingsAndBigMacs