wheels_shadow: (Default)
A year isn't a long time, but a lot of change can happen in a year, especially after they return from the road trip. A year can feel like an entire lifetime, entire universes shifting and passing when there's so many changes to adjust to.

Sam has family, a brother. He knows where he comes from, but he still wants to come back home with Rhys. And in that one night of revelation, he gave himself over to Rhys, one night to prove that he could still touch and be touched without the weight of his past.

In that night was the promise that one day Sam could be whole again, and that with patience and trust there could be intimacy. So they come home, and start on the promises Rhys has made, building what is going to be their life together.

With Cyrus dead, tentative deals are made with the new pack leaders. No one really misses the old Alpha and his vicious ways, and reparations are made with money and promises, not blood. Things are fixed, and with the new plans in place, they can start working on the changes to the house.

Sam can have his upstairs room. It's a project that they can bond over, working together on new furniture, new paint, and whatever other furnishings make Sam feel at home. The house needs work anyway, and renovating the heavy, stuffy Victorian into something newer and brighter seems...appropriate. The renovations mean new surroundings and all the small steps while Sam learns how to be free and Rhys learns how to be alive again.

And of course, there's always room in the master bedroom for Sam. No matter what Sam is willing to share, the offer is always there of safe, comfortable space with no conditions. Whether he wants to share the bed or simply curl up in the reading chair, he's welcome.

The rest is a strange sort of blur. Chasing leaves and drinking cider in the fall. Play-fighting in the snow and watching movies on the couch on long winter nights. Thorough brushings on the porch followed by naps in the spring air. Long video chats and a couple of visits with Dean and Benny, catching up on an entire lost lifetime as Sam bonds with his brother again and Rhys makes new friends. Slowly, they are building a life.

Then it's summer again, almost a year to the day since Rhys walked into the dirty, miserable warehouse by the water, looking for someone to save.
wheels_shadow: (caged)
It was a terrible idea and he knew it, but it wasn't the first terrible idea that Rhys had ever had, and it wasn't going to be the last.

And very honestly? He was pretty much out of good ones. All he knew was that he couldn't keep going the way he was going. Living on the edge of starvation was dangerous for far too many reasons, and he was tired of it. The nightly hunting put him at risk, and the few human friends he had...he could only take so much from them. He needed another source, a safe, reliable one, and this...well.

It was a terrible idea. But it was a possible solution, and there weren't a lot of other life options that included "new vampire" and "stability" in the same sentence.

He was still arguing with himself when he eased past the bouncers, into a smoky industrial waterfront warehouse reeking of lust and desperation. So that was the line of reasoning, utterly, completely fucked-up reasoning, that had led him to a black market slave auction. Even when he was alive, he'd known about them, or at least, heard the rumors. Now that he was One Of Them, with a backstage pass to the shadowy underside of the monster world? Full access.

A passing brunette in spectacular gold and green silk glowered a warning at him, eyes narrowed to vertical slits and giving off the warning odor of perfume and venom. Rhys just stared back at the naga as she passed, giving her a blank, uncaring look with scarlet eyes. That's right, sister, keep slithering on. Baby fangs doesn't mean I can't still make boots out of your scaly ass.

Okay, maybe not actually one of them, but close enough. Certainly close enough to get into their little private club parties, if he was willing to put up with the disdain, filthy looks, and occasional outright fear or hate. And as despicable as he found it, as much as the reek of pain and rage and desperation threatened to choke him, at least he could argue he was doing something good, right?

He had the perfect undercover disguise, because he was a vampire. Take someone home. Take off the chains, take them away from the beatings, the humiliation, and the threat of death, keep them in relative comfort in exchange for...just a little blood. Not a terrible exchange, in the grand scheme. And this was a small auction- not too much competition, no high rollers. Most of what he'd find here would be the dregs of the market: the injured and retired pit fighters, the aging house servants, the unruly, half-feral teenagers. He could find what he was looking for easily enough, without a ruckus, and then be done with it. Go home quietly and just...see if he could make it work.

Not a terrible idea. Really. He'd had worse, and this had potential. He rubbed absently at the leg of his leather pants, making his way toward the preview hall. The antiquities and rare goods normally would have drawn his attention, but tonight, that wasn't what he was looking for. Tonight, his attention was on the cages at the far back, on the platforms set behind nice, safe rope boundaries.
wheels_shadow: (Hunter's eye)
- Pale skin, red irises, very delicate, sharp incisors that extend when he's hungry or angry, but never retract completely. He runs a couple of degrees cooler than human, but he warms up and flushes when he's fed recently. No heartbeat and only breathes when he remembers to, to speak or scent.

- Has lost all his innate magical abilities because he no longer has the life force to power them. The only magic he can work now is knowledge-based or the natural abilities he's gotten after being bitten. His tattoos are now inert- just ink with no magic to power them.

- Superhuman strength and speed, enhanced senses, though he's not as strong as some other breeds of supernatural. Heals most wounds extremely quickly except for decapitation, fire, and a nasty allergy to ashwood. Silver, holy objects, and running water don't bother him, though he's a lousy swimmer due to being denser than human. He can walk into a house without an invitation.

- Can stay awake during the day, but sunlight renders him sick and nearly comatose. He can function, but only barely, so he prefers to sleep, or at least hide from the sun.

- Needs to take blood from living human prey. Bagged blood and animal blood won't sustain him for very long because he requires the psychic/emotional component of feeding along with the blood itself. However, he doesn't need to kill his victims.

- Turning into a mist/shapeshifting? Folklore.

- The hypnotic gaze is absolutely true, however. Rhys is also empathic, and thanks to his bloodline, his trance capabilities are extremely powerful. Between this and the enzymes in his saliva, his bite can be extremely pleasurable- he tries to make taking blood a comfortable, pleasurable experience and usually does a pretty good job of it, only taking from willing donors and leaving them with a somewhat blurry but pleasant memory of the handsome stranger they went home with the previous night.

- Yes, he can still have sex.


wheels_shadow: (Default)

October 2015

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