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Mearc's waiting in his apartment for Alex to arrive, early in the evening after she asked to meet. Despite the previous night's experiments, he's back to his usual cargo pants and a T-shirt, the pockets on the cargo pants loaded up properly even when he's in his own home. After a day of not having his stuff on him, it feels important to have the weight in his pockets.
It was shortly after sundown when Alex texted, and not long after their agreement to meet when she arrives. When she knocks on the door she's dressed down more than she often is, since she's always had a bit of a thing for fashion as a sort armor. Tonight it's just jeans and a loose white scoop neck tee, with a leather jacket over it. She looks a little less nervous about someone in the hall spotting her tonight, compared to the first night she came over, but she still looks antsy.
Mearc answers the door, looking her up and down. "What's wrong and how can I help?" This is nothing new, his default posture when a friend is not doing well is always to try to fix the issue. He can be a really bad person to vent to, for this reason.
"You might want to know what the problem is before you volunteer too quickly," Alex replies quietly. She glances up the hall and then asks, "can I come in? I don't think either of us wants your neighbors calling the police because some scary person was at your door."
"Yes, come on in." He nods and gestures for her to come inside. "Is the invitation thing real, or are you just being polite? Because my home is a place where you're welcome, full stop."
"I'm just being polite," Alex says with a weak smile, as she steps inside. "At least, nothing bad has ever happened to me when I didn't have an explicit invitation, and nobody has ever bothered to caution me that it could be a problem, like they did with some other things."
"Okay." Once she's inside, he shuts the door. "So, what's going on?"
She lets out a sigh and then opens her mouth like she's going to answer before she pauses, looks away, and then back at him to start again. "It's one of those things where I don't really know who to talk to. It feels weird to talk to the other vampires about it, even though a lot of them have probably had the same experiences. It feels weird to talk about it to anyone else because... it's kind of gross, I guess? But how much have you thought about the logistics of having to survive on other people's blood?"
"Lately, honestly, more than I ever expected to." He nods slightly. "I learned recently that one of the words you guys use when discussing mortals is 'kine', an ancient word for 'cattle'. Which makes sense, especially for the oldest ones with less connection to human society. And that's probably a really distasteful thing to you. Right?"
Alex grimaces at the word. "I feel like I should be insulted you even ask," she answers with a soft breath of a laugh. "But you're right. It's disgusting." She moves toward the couch to sit down, because it seems like the right thing to do. "It's a word I'm definitely not going to start using. I don't want to start thinking of people that way."
Mearc nods quietly. "Understandable. But you can't exactly ask for permission without blowing secrecy. So how are you hunting, currently?"
"There are mostly two options," Alex admits as she sits down. She glances at her feet, realizes she forgot to take her shoes off, and toes them off one at a time. "Sorry," she adds. "Most of the time it comes down to either force or seduction, it seems like. You mug someone in an alley and take what you need, or you make them think they're getting laid, but things turn out differently. I'm sure you can guess I don't go for option one, but I don't feel great about the other, either. So the answer to how I'm hunting is... poorly. I didn't end up following through last night."
"Alright. Would it help if I offer my own wrist or neck to you? Not...not as an all-the-time thing, but if you're in immediate need right now, I...happen to have some blood, and I'm sure I can spare some of it? Either that or I order a pizza and let you have the delivery guy, I suppose."
Alex covers her face with her hand for a moment, sighs, and lowers it again. "It's not a long term solution, for sure. Outside of some kind of supernatural healing, one person isn't enough to sustain one of us anyway. You know how with glamour, you can just kind of not spend it and not have to go harvest more very often? We don't have that option. Just waking up at night takes some of our energy out of us. If we go too long, the hunger starts to take over our thoughts, and can drive us to do things we wouldn't choose to do otherwise. Like... addicts needing a fix, I suppose? It leaves me stuck between feeling terrible about what I have to do just to stay alive, or risking badly hurting or even killing someone if I wait too long and lose control."
"Right. That sounds pretty terrible, Alex." He sits beside her, putting an arm around her. "The offer wasn't strictly hypothetical, though. If I can help you, I'd like to."
She leans into the comfort of that encircling arm and closes her eyes. "Even if it's once, it being a situation where there's consent involved would make a huge difference to me," she admits. "That's what makes me feel so disgusted with myself. Are you sure that you'd be okay with this?"
He lets out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I'm absolutely certain, Alex. I would not have offered if I did not mean it. You know me, I don't just say things to say them. It's important to me to have my word mean something. So yes, if it will help you, go ahead."
Alex nods softly. Under the circle of his arm she's cool to the touch, not warm, and other than when she speaks, there's no movement from breathing or anything else. "I should warn you that it's going to feel good," she says softly. "You would think that getting bitten would hurt, and it can, but not when it's being done gently. I guess it's a defense mechanism we have, that our bites feel good enough that it drives people to distraction. It means that when we're feeding from people we're ostensibly seducing, they tend to think they had a, uh... better time than they thought they were going to have, without remembering the details."
"I accept this." He smiles slightly. "And I'm glad there are defense mechanisms like that in play. I should also ask about the possibility of leaving marks, while we're discussing logistics. Will I need to explain this to my partners?"
"I can heal the marks," Alex says with a shake of her head. "I'd be more comfortable if this wasn't a secret you kept rom your partners. There hasn't ever been anything romantic between us, at least from my side. They're your relationships, so I'll leave that up to you, but you don't need to keep it secret on my account." She lifts her head up so she can look at him. "I'd honestly feel less weird about it if it wasn't a secret."
"It's more a concern of timining than trying to hide the matter completely. It won't be a secret. For one thing, I'm still planning on introducing you to them. One's a Leechfinger; while it's not exactly the same, I think you'll be able to sympathize with one another." He leans in, brushing his lips against her forehead.
"Okay," she says with a slight nod, and when he kisses her forehead, she smiles. "I'd like to meet them. If they're special to you, then I have a feeling I'm going to like them too." A pause. "Where would you prefer I bite? The wrist is probably the easiest, at least in a situation like this where we're not crawling on each other and making out."
"Wrist, yeah." He lifts a hand, palm-up, offering the wrist to her, and watches what comes next with a lot of curiosity on his face.
Alex nods as she reaches out to gently take his arm in her hands. When she offers him another smile there are fangs in her mouth, rather than just her canines, and she brings his wrist and her mouth together slowly enough to give him a chance to protest if he changes his mind, but not slowly enough that it might seem like there's sensual intent.
The bite itself, when it comes, starts with a momentary sharpness, and then a flood of sensations that aren't exactly orgasmic, but are certainly pleasurable. It's easy to understand how someone who didn't know what was going on might find the experience intoxicating in a way that could drive them to seek a repeat, allowing the same vampire to feed from them time and again.
Since Mearcstapa isn't a mortal, he doesn't get hit with the worst of it, either. It doesn't drive away reason, the way it might.
There's no sign that he's pulling away, that he's struggling. He gasps softly as the flood of feelings hits him, running through the whole of his body. It's a surprisingly powerful thing. But, but, he tries to keep his mind on the purpose of this exercise. What he's feeling really isn't the point.
Alex lets his pulse do most of the work, pooling the blood in his mouth until there's enough for a good swallow. It doesn't take very long before she stops herself, not wanting to take too much, and as she draws her fangs out and removes her lips, she pauses to lick the wound clean. It removes the traces of blood from his skin, and also closes the punctures left by her fangs.
Then she pauses, her mouth less than an inch from his wrist.
Mearc's view of the whole thing is a hair different--to him, the blood coming out is faintly glowing UV blue, like something out of a video game. He can't help but wonder..."Do I taste the same as a standard human, to you?"
Alex still doesn't move, at first, and then when he starts to speak she raises a hand like she's silently asking for him to hold that thought.
Then, springing into sudden motion, she drops his wrist and runs for the kitchen and the sink therein, where she leans over it. The retching sounds that follow are familiar to almost anyone. Who hasn't ever experienced being around someone who got food poisoning, or drank too much, or otherwise had a sudden and violent need to vacate every single bit of their stomach's contents as rapidly as possible.
Just, you know, this time it's all blood. Normal blood to her, UV blue to him.
Mearc follows, holding her hair back for her while she vomits with a grimace. "Right, no, bad. It's okay, let it all out."
Of course there are no dishes in the sink, Mearc isn't just tidy, he's almost obsessive, and it's worse when there's going to be people over.
She retches again, though there's nothing left to come up after the first explosive round of it. Only her system trying to be really sure it got everything that it didn't recognize as acceptable blood out the first time.
After that she's still, head over the sink, hair in his hands. That last a few seconds before her body shakes again, softer and without the gagging, retching sound of her vomiting. This time it's a soft sob that causes the motion, not the expulsion of something her undead body isn't willing to accept, and she slumps over the bloody sink as it repeats.
He wraps in closer to her, letting go of her hair with a soft 'sorry', and tries to be there to support her while she cries. It's always, always awkward seeing someone break down, and Mearc's not sure what to do beside being close and trying to comfort. Rubbing her back lightly.
There's something not quite right in the way that she cries that has nothing to do with the scene, her leaning over a basin spattered whichever vivid colors a respective viewer sees. It has everything to do with the way her lack of breathing makes the expression of her anguish come out, without the gasping and shuddering breaths that the living so commonly express in their grief. There's no sniffling, no pauses in it to swallow. It's all the shaking of her body and a low moan of utter despair.
Gently, he picks her up out of the sink, holding her against himself unless she struggles or makes it clear the contact, the closeness, the comfort is undesired. The soft sounds he makes as he tries to ease her pain aren't shushing, more 'there-there, I gotcha' type reassurances.
When he tries to move her she doesn't resist, and turns to cling to him instead. Fortunately almost all the blood ended up in the sink and not on her, except a few drops that are already mostly dry. "What am I going to do?" she gasps out around her sobs.
"You're going to let me order a pizza. And then you're going to have the delivery guy. That's the immediate solution, for right this moment. Alright? The rest, we can brainstorm afterwards." This comes out firm, not a suggestion but a plan.
She shakes her head vigorously and protests, "no. Not like that. I can't, not right now." She presses her face against his shoulder and holds on. She pulls in a deep breath, not because she needs the air but because the act of it and its slow release steady her a bit. "If I treat someone like they're nothing but disposable prey, right now... please."
"Alex, you need to feed. I don't know how to get you to someone who can consent, safely. Not without calling the Sakima or Esme--do you want me to ask them for their advice?" He's trying to be patient, but it's clear he's a little bit lost on how to fix this, and that's a point of frustration.
"No, it's fine," Alex says, although she's clearly not fine, and she's almost certainly trying to make herself believe otherwise more than she's trying to convince Mearc. She does lift her head up again so she can look at him, though. "Later tonight. Or tomorrow. I'll go find someone who thinks they're going to get laid, and at least leave them feeling good about it. I'll be fine until then." Her eyes close and her head lowers a little. "I'm just afraid."
"The fact that you are afraid is to your merit." He shakes his head slightly. "It shows you still very much care about the consequences of your actions."
"I don't know how I'm going to live, and also be someone I can live with," she says softly. "When do the ends stop justifying the means?"
He sighs, raking a hand through his hair as he steps back just a hair to look at her. "I can't be the one to answer that for you, Alex."
"I haven't been able to either." Alex admits with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Usually she doesn't have the same tendency to avoid eye contact that Mearcstapa has, but when she opens her eyes again she looks away from him. "I keep going through cycles of thinking I can do this, at least for a little while after I eat, and then wondering if I was wrong as I realize I need to do it again."
"Alex, you know this probably isn't a unique problem, right? I doubt that it would be seen as a point of shame to talk about these feelings with someone you trust, among the vampires. I bet almost everyone's had to deal with the same cycle."
"I know," Alex says with a resigned sigh. "I just find myself having trouble trusting them, too. I..." she shrugs. "Remember how this happened to me. It's hard to trust them when that was my introduction. You're right that I probably need to find someone to talk to among them, though."
"If I were to recommend someone among the vampires I've met, Esme or Eyrgjafa would be the two at the top of my list. Lethia's a little old, probably removed from the matter. Atalo's very kind, but I'm not sure how much his view would be useful. Guy...might not be the worst. He's still in-touch enough with his feelings to be dating a non-vampire." He's counting them off on his fingers, and it probably says something that he needs both hands.
Alex lets out a soft laugh. "Guy does seem to be a lot nicer than he seems at first glance, but also resigned to things being the way they are for us. Eyrgjafa might be a good choice. I do like Atalo, but he's also a client, so that just feel like it would be a little weird." She sighs again and says, "I'm sorry to put so much of this on you."
"You're forgiven for it." He smiles at her. "I accept this as part of being your friend."
"I like being the friend who has her shit together, and has other people coming to her for guidance," Alex admits with a wrinkled nose. "Not the one who's falling apart." She shakes her head softly and says, "I want you to know that I don't want to die. Just to be clear. I'm not suicidal. I just need to figure out how to reconcile that with... everything else."
"I'm glad to hear that. Because losing you would break me more than a little. You're one of the most awesome friends I have, and I just got you back." One hand move to rest on her shoulder lightly.
She puts a hand over his and nods. "It's a serious stroke of good luck that you're here, in my opinion. I'd be struggling a lot more if you were still in Chicago. I think I need to find some time to unwind, too." She offers a smile, a little strained after making its way through all the other emotions that have layered themselves on her tonight. "I'd still like to meet your people. Wren, and your other sorts of partners."
"That's definitely something I want, too." He nods. "One thing I didn't say in my texts last night is that the one Anna-Marie targeted is a metamour of mine, so there's a lot of stress on the network, so to speak."
"Oh," Alex says, with a sudden understanding and a nod. "If another vampire being added to the mix will make things worse right now, I understand. It can happen later. If you think it might help for them to meet a vampire that..." she shrugs. "Who is me, I guess. Who used to be Fae-Touched, who treats people like people, all of that. If you think it would help, I can be that person for them. The creepiness aside."
"I'm not sure if introducing you to the metamour is going to be useful at this time, but that's something that I'll let him decide. But you're definitely meeting the Leechfinger in the equation sooner than later, for obvious reasons."
"Because they make you happy, and you want to show them off?" Alex asks with faint smirk.
"Both of those are true, but also because he might be of more use in the conversation about ethics regarding using the life-force of others than me. Plus, he's the sharp dresser whose clothes I was borrowing last night."
"Mostly because you want to show them off, though?" Alex asks again, smiling a little more. "I'm happy for you. I'd love to meet him, ethical questions aside."
"I mean. Yes, I want to show of, and they make me incredibly happy." He's blushing.
Alex gives Mearc a warm hug and says, "good for you." Not in any sarcastic way at all, either. Then she steps back, turns to look behind her at the sink, and says, "I should probably clean that up before it dries too much and gets even grosser..."
"I can do it; it's my own blood, so it's fine."
"You're sure?" Alex asks, guilt making her wince a little. "I'm the one who threw it up."
He nods at her. "I'm sure. Will you text me later tonight, after you've successfully found a meal?"
"Yeah. I'll do that," Alex says with a nod. "I should probably get going. Finding someone who wants to let me pick them up despite how much I creep them out sometimes takes a while." Then she hesitantly adds, "it's kind of weird on the occasions when it makes it easier with someone."
He lets out a startled laugh at that comment. "Might be worth leaning into?"
"Maybe. Or I could become a vigilante, and hunt down bad people to beat them up for the blood," Alex suggests in a clearly joking way. With a smile she says, "I'm going to get out of your hair. Thank you again, and sorry again."
"Take care of yourself." He nods, walking her to the door.
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