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bakerstreet2017-08-07 11:10 pm
maliceaforesock) wrote in bakerstreet2017-08-07 11:10 pm
anyone see daybreakers?
THE VAMPIRE MEME
Vampires are appealing creatures. They can be dark, mysterious, sexy, or just downright violent. They can even be hunky and sparkly in the sun! Vampires come in so many different varieties, it's hard to choose just one type. Whatever your brand of vampire, it's just hard to resist the draw of one of the oldest, most unsettling figures in horror to date. So why not try your hand at playing one yourself? Or offer your character up for bait if you're more inclined to do so. - Post your characters.Name/Series/Preferences in the subject field as usual along with whether your character is a vampire, outsider, or hunter(Unless you'd like to roll for individual threads!). - Others respond after going to RNG.Roll 1-3 for what your character is and then1-3 again for what type (if you desire). - Choose or roll for a scenario. You could make up your own after you roll for what your character's role will be if you want! - Have fun! Vampires 1 - Sire You're old enough to have created vampires of your own. Maybe one, maybe many, but they're all special to you in their own way. 2 - Sired You were once normal, human, but then you were changed into something more. Do you thank your creator or hate them for changing you into a monster? 3 - n/a Your creator is neither here nor there at the moment. You're just a vampire on the hunt or trying to fit in. Outsider 1 - Victim You're a victim, someone to drain and leave behind. Maybe they'll take pity on you and allow you to join, be one of them. 2 - Willing You've got the hots for vampires or just a morbid fascination. You're willing to let them drink from you and maybe so much more. 3 - Pawn You're being controlled somehow by a vampire. Mind control, blackmail, whatever. Hunter 1 - Born You come from a long line of vampire hunters. 2 - Moral Objection Vampires are abominations that deserve to be wiped off the face of the planet. 3 - Vengeance A vampire took someone dear from you or possibly made you into one of them. All you can think about is getting vengeance. Gen 1 - hunted prey. You're starving tonight and you're out scoping for just the right nighttime snack. 2 - newly made. You're a newly made vampire or you've encountered someone who's recently been changed. How do you deal? 3 - mind control. Some vampires have the ability to control humans' thoughts or actions and tonight is the night you have to do it. 4 - overpopulated. Vampires have taken over the world and now humans are treated like livestock or pets that you can feed off of when you feel like it. Not all vampires think this is cool though... 5 - injured. Not a lot can injure a vampire but there are those that will drain them for their blood or those that hunt them and know tricks that actually leave a mark. Do you help them? Or if you're the one injured, do you seek help? 6 - unaccepted. You were changed or you've met someone who was once dear to you and changed... you're not sure how to accept them. 7 - close call. It's too close to sunrise and you have got to find refuge with someone. 8 - player's choice. For anything that's been missed!
| Violent 1 - trail of bodies. Humans are nothing but food and you've gone on a spree lately. 2 - hunted. You're being hunted or you're hunting. 3 - outnumbered. A bar or a club full of vampires doesn't bode well for humans... 4 - ravenous. You've been starved or drained and you're going after the first person you see or you've stumbled across an extremely hungry vampire. 5 - entitled. You're entitled to this person's blood, whether they want to give it or not. 6 - self-defense. You have to defend yourself from those that want to hurt you. 7 - vengeance. Someone is after vengeance... 8 - player's choice. For anything that's been missed! Romantic 1 - real love. You know this is real, even if the other person is reluctant. Maybe it's not even a worry between you two and you just feel like being together. 2 - confession. It might not be the smartest idea, but you need to tell this vampire or human exactly how you feel for them. 3 - forever. It's time to make your lover into some a vampire or maybe it's time to ask your vampire lover to do it for you. 4 - making it work. There are obviously some problems, but you're going to overcome them. 5 - forbidden. Either no one can know about what you're doing or you just receive dirty looks for doing it. 6 - not exactly normal. Your attraction might not be normal or the circumstances surrounding your relationship might not be and it's time to discuss if you have a future or you're just kidding yourselves. 7 - defense. Someone hurt your lover and now they have to pay. 8 - player's choice. For anything that's been missed! Smut 1 - blood offering. There's nothing like a vampire feeding on you that gets you in the mood more. You offer them your blood in exchange for something else. 2 - coerced. Some vampires have mind control capabilities and some have blood that's like a drug that will make you crave more. 3 - no sex better than vampire sex. You're both vampires or one of you is dead set on becoming on tonight and you'll do anything to convince your lover it's time. 4 - pet. Similar to another option except that a 'pet 'entails so much more than being treated like livestock or cattle. 5 - touched the monster's heart. You're actually in love with each other even though you weren't sure it was possible. You just want to make love and show your vampire how you feel. 6 - so much stronger. The human or weaker vampire might not want it, but thankfully you're strong enough to take whatever you want from them. 7 - mine. It's time to claim what is rightfully yours and make sure they know it. 8 - player's choice. For anything that's been missed! |
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It’s not enough to make him really care about him, or even to make him drop his guard - not nearly enough, but it’s something. It’s a start. It’s a seed.
“Then it’s good that you told me,” is what he says, after a minute - because it is. If they know Nelson’s going to be coming after Matt, they can be prepared for it. And that means no deaths - on either side. Bucky’s not stupid, he knows that the fastest way to turn Matt against them will be to hurt his best friend. So they won’t - worst case scenario, Nelson ends up down here, right alongside Murdock. “I don’t want to hurt him any more than I want to hurt you.”
And he doesn’t want to hurt Matt. He’s not like some shithead who says that, but doesn’t mean it. He does. When he speaks, he means what he says, and he doesn’t want to hurt people. He doesn’t like it. That doesn’t mean he’s not good at it, but he doesn’t like it.
One corner of his lips ticks up a little more at the rest of what Matt says. Matt can probably hear it in his voice. “No, you can’t,” he admits, leaning one hip on the bars. “But you understand - there’s something I need to know, before I take those chains off.” And that’s, “How hungry are you?”
Humans don’t go through the same transformation - getting hangry sure as fuck has nothing on the grotesque and far-too-fast-for-comfort downward spiral that takes hold of vampires when they don’t feed often enough. It’s not fair, Bucky thinks - not fair to the vampires, not fair to the humans; but then again, when the hell was life ever fair to anyone? Maybe the side effect actually has a purpose, the way that viruses kill their hosts, but… he’s not giving up this host, or any of his people, to that side effect today.
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He sits there, frozen for a moment as if he's forgotten how to ape breathing like a human, like every other vampire would if they were scared and on their guard. Vampires are a creature of habit: they can walk through mostly the same mechanics of their old lives, but when push comes to shove, and they can't divide their attention, they simply...stop. Chests stop rising and falling. They go still, too still. They forget to pretend, even unconsciously, that they need to blink. It's one of the few tells that has saved free-ranging human pockets of resistance clear of the cities and their blood farms, from getting infiltrated by vampire agents. Matt goes rigid as a statue before he can stop himself with his head cocked, mouth pressed into a colorless line.
"Hungry. As always," he admits after a pause, trying to assess if he should tell the truth or he should lie. If maybe this is some sort of - some sort of test.
His tongue betrays him. It slides out, a few shades removed of a man's natural pink, to wet his mouth. Glide wistfully across his fang points.
Truth is he is hungry. Or thirsty. Whatever you want to call it these days, Matt feels it. Right now he feels it tugging at his mouth right down to his aching gums His throat, closing up. Dry, like he inhaled dust. All of it seems to lead toward Barnes - that deep voice slightly hoarse, as if he spent the night drinking hard vodka that comes in plastic instead of glass; the heavy thud of his heart, deafening. Pulling him in despite logic telling him it was a misake. Matt's mouth dries in response. Aches for the release only Barnes can provide. It's a type of hunger that honestly, he knows he hadn't ever felt in his previous life, when his idle daydreams didn't result in his mouth pressed flush against a warm neck. It doesn't change the fact that even as he's stuck in the cell, kneeling, wrists chaffed from the restraints, that there isn't a part of him wishing he was straddling Barnes, fangs bared, mouth coursing hot with blood's copper tang.
Matt shifts from where he's settled. His pale chin dips up, angling even further toward the sound Barnes's voice despite the dirty strip of cloth wrapped over his eyes.
"Are you going to...cater to my vices?" Matt asks. He figures maybe, just maybe, he isn't the first prisoner that Barnes has had this routine with. (And that's not a good thing). His baser instincts don't give a damn: they use every sense but sight to picture what Barnes must taste and feel like. Imagine what it would be like if he wasn't in a cell, if the cuffs weren't there. How he could make Barnes sing a different tone quite easily.
His voice cracks.
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Bucky can't help it. He pities the guy. He pities them all; sure, being human, being alive is hard, and harder in the wake of the plague that changed everything, that kicked the human race down a rung on the food chain.
But he knows why Matt's stopped. He's thinking, he's overwhelmed, and that's good, in Bucky's book, because it means Matt's off balance, and Bucky has the upper hand. The fact that Matt's in chains really has nothing to do with it - never did. He watches as Matt answers - watches all the tics, all the tells, that tell him exactly how hungry the guy is, and just how under control - or not - he's got that hunger. No one's going to get anywhere with a starving vampire, and they both know it.
But there's something about what Matt says, the way he asks, that has anger flaring in Bucky's gut. He steps forward, reaching down and finding the right key, fitting it into the lock and pulling the rusty door open, so the bars are no longer between them. He's still wary, even as he steps forward, even as he crouches down so that, if Matt weren't blindfolded - and blind - they could look each other in the eye. It's still putting them on the same level, putting Bucky's neck, his heart, in closer proximity to the vampire than before, even if he's still just out of reach, even if Matt lunges forward. His whole body is still tensed, maybe expecting that to happen, as he says, lowly, firmly, "Needing to eat isn't a vice."
It's not. It's just survival, plain and simple. It's something they both share, even if Bucky has the option to pick something out of the ground and eat it, rather than killing something to do it. He won't pretend he doesn't like hamburger, or steak, or hell, even roasted chicken. But he also won't pretend it's the same thing, that humans are just the same as cattle. It's a complicated problem - but that's what it is. A problem. Not a vice.
"You understand that killing me gets you nowhere," he says, standing back up from his crouch and pulling the metal door shut behind him, locking them both in. "I have the key to this door, but not the one that leaves this cell block. That's with someone on the outside, and they won't give it to you."
As he speaks, he's rolling up one sleeve, the right one, almost absently, still keeping his distance, just out of reach. "So here's the deal. I give you something to eat, you be civil about it, and we talk more after that."
He thinks Matt will agree. Everything he knows about the man says he will. It's still a gamble, but they've played it safe long enough. Sometimes you just have to gamble.
Bucky's best friend taught him that.
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Matt scoots backward as much as the restraints allow, his dirtied oxfords scrapping against the bare concrete of his cell until he reaches the length of the chain and it goes taut, bringing him up short. While his heart can't kick in his chest, he can still let out a worried hiss between his fangs as he jerks his head to the side, angling his ears instead of his blindfolded eyes toward Barnes. True, he'd had training, he could handle himself in the rare chance of a mugger without a problem...but the thing is, that had been years ago and he's out of practice and bolted to the floor.
The growing realization dawns on him that this is really happening. That he'll actually feed on a live human, one he's had a conversation with, one that didn't "donate" so he could pick out out a blood pint at the supermarket. Matt hunches where the chain stops him, at first the picture of vulnerability - his face blinded by the dirty black cloth, his body turned inward as if he's curling into a ball to protect himself. His hands and feet, though, are planted flat on the floor (all the better to get purchase with, in case he needs to lunge forward) and he finds that his fangs are bared in an involuntary snarl before he remembers his manners. His lips twitch down.
Barnes's first guess about him is right: he will agree, he would've even if he'd fed recently. The temptation tugging at his very core is too high when presented with an actual human.
"Noted. And..." Matt pauses, warring with the idea of this but aware that if he causes too much problems, he might be written as a liability. That if he doesn't cooperate, he might never see Foggy or Hell's Kitchen again. "Thank you for doing this."
The vampire's head tilts toward Barnes with pale lips parted again as if he's inhaling his scent, tracking the little blood halo he'd have just because he has a beating heart. It's different than just his sound and scent, some kind of sixth sense that he hasn't experienced in years because there hasn't been a human in New York. Not only that, but Barnes seems healthy. He's well fed, his blood coursing strong in his body, the sensation so heady that Matt almost feels like he's dizzy - all before Barnes gets close enough that he could almost reach for him. It isn't a surprise that the man - military? Or did he just end up like this out in the sticks, while New York went about its business without him? - only presents his arm. No neck, no inner thigh. None of the vampire's favorite spots to gorge on. An area he could control. Smart guy. No wonder he's the one entering the cell, the prey dictating the term for a change in a voice that's low and course, unlike anyone he's ever heard before. The thud of his boots sounds heavy and he has to wonder if they're steel-toed. Or maybe he retrofitted them to be coated in silver. From what little he knows about Barnes, he wouldn't be surprised.
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He holds his arm out, steady, unwavering, while Matt thinks this through.
There are still little tells, the animal (the monster) in him trying to get through - Bucky sees those fangs, he sees the tension coiled in the muscles and the curve of his body, but still he crouches, and still he offers his arm. His heartbeat is slow, steady, and sure. If he’s nervous, or unhappy, there’s no way for Matt to tell.
That heartbeat stays steady and sure, even as Matt leans forward, even as lips and then fangs close in on his arm, where the blood runs closest to the surface. “You’re a prisoner,” he says, a little wryly, because look, let’s not kid ourselves here, “but I think you don’t have to be, for very long. I think we could be allies. And I don’t mistreat my allies.”
There’s a beat, and then, “I don’t mistreat my prisoners, either,” he says, with this undertone that makes it clear that is something he deeply, deeply believes in. He does. People are people, whether they’re completely human or infected with the vampire plague. They deserve respect, and fairness - until they don’t. Sometimes they don’t, but Bucky will always give them that first benefit of the doubt, and let what happens after dictate his reactions. He’s really a reasonable guy, if careful and cautious and hardened.
The truth is, he’s never actually fed a vampire before - not like this. He’s given blood so that prisoners can eat, but that was clinical, cold, detached. There’s nothing detached about offering the inside of his arm and the blood running through it to Matt now, but maybe, he thinks, it’s better this way. Maybe this can work out - even if he isn’t going to bank on it just yet. He can be optimistic and cautious at the same time.
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The hesitation lasts a few seconds, shorter than he would've liked, before Matt caves into his baser instincts, the vampire unable to resist the temptation holding its arm out to him with healthy blood coursing underneath just as healthy tissue and muscle. He reaches out and grips Barnes's offering with cold fingers that tremble slightly and then tighten with a predator's innate strength around his wrist and forearm as he drags him closer. It's strong, sure, but at the same time, it's been awhile since he fed and he's literally chained to the floor: if Barnes changed his mind, he doubts he could get more than a mouthful before he gets shoved off. When his mouth presses over the pulse point, fangs breaking skin, those thoughts fly out the window as his mind...blanks.
Matt feeds.
He hasn't fed on a live human since Foggy turned him. It's a shock to the system, almost more than he can handle, and he's nosier than he would've liked, a little grunt or a moan escaping as he clamps onto Barnes. The man tastes unreal, out of this world. His blood-taste starts to fill his mouth, his throat, as he drinks his fill and the thing is, he realizes too late that he can't stop. That he doesn't know when he's full, that he could sit here happily as the bloodsucking lawyer leeching off some random human, some guy who can give the order to turn him into a pile of sulfur in two seconds flat, and somehow it flat-out doesn't matter.
Barnes might need to force him off at this point, because Matt, for all his talk, for all his initial self-restraint, isn't showing signs of knowing when enough's enough as he keeps right on feeding. Despite the handcuffs and the blindfold, he's bodily trying to drag Barnes closer as he moans, urgent, feral, into the warmth of his arm, his tongue pulsing as he greedily takes what isn't his.
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He’s seen the research. He knows how long it takes a vampire to bleed a healthy person dry, he knows about how long they need to feed. That information is readily available, whether the vampires know it or not, among the human resistance. Everybody knows how long you can hold out, that you won’t start to feel weak until it’s too late, that a vampire who latches on is hard as hell to dislodge, but you can do it if you grab and push just right; you’ll have to deal with a hell of a wound, afterward, torn flesh and veins as the fangs wrench out, but you can survive it, with the right supplies.
Bucky has the right supplies - he’d never step into a cell without them: bandages, fast-acting coagulants, a couple of injectable tranquilizer pens for the vampire he’s dealing with. He counts, slowly, in his head, letting Matt feed and feed, but when he hits the number that signifies enough, his arm tenses as he makes a fist, tendons shifting in a signal Matt will undoubtedly feel.
And doesn’t heed. Bucky waits another heartbeat, two, and then he reaches over with his free hand, grips the side of Matt’s face, slides his thumb into the corner of his mouth, and half-twists, half-pushes, wrenching the greedy, sucking mouth away. “That’s enough,” he says, much more calmly than a guy who’s ripping a pair of fangs out of his forearm should, but he’s suffered worse. He’s strong; Matt might be clamped on, but Bucky’s a match for him off-balance like this, pulling his arm away as soon as he’s got the leverage, leaning back and hissing just a little at the sting before he starts fishing in his pocket for the bandage he needs to wrap it up.
As he does, steadily and methodically, the scent of blood still welling up in the room even though he’s gotten himself out of Matt’s reach now, he says, “You don’t do that often, do you?” Now’s the time to see if he’s right. Vampires tend to be more honest and much less concerned with appearances while they’re licking their lips. It’s sort of like being buzzed, he thinks. Your inhibitions drop, disappear.
no subject
Matt makes a little disappointed sound between his fangs that's more hiss than sated sigh, some of Barnes's precious blood drooling out before he can stop it. He finds himself instinctively catching it with his hand, letting the coppery scent pool in his palm instead of hitting the floor. He's stooped to lap at it even as awareness snaps back and he realizes he's one step away from licking the floor because Barnes tastes that good.
"No," Matt can't help it: he's still licking his hand clean, his sinuses afire with the heady smell of Barnes's scent even as he manages to focus on the sorry fact that feeding time is over. The blindfold turns toward the human even as his tongue snakes out to get that last precious drop of his blood. "Haven't done that in..." he trails off and shrugs, wiping his hand against his hip as if he's suddenly self-conscious. "Awhile. Everything is either watered down or pumped with synthetics."
And they haven't found the perfect replacement, either, which is why he would've been eyeballing Barnes if it wasn't for the blindfold...oh, and if he could see. That would help. But that vampire sixth sense fills in the rest and right now Barnes is almost crystal clear with a copper-tinged outline he can feel almost against the root of his mouth, against his lips, warm with life.
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Silence falls, for a long moment, before he decides, now, to be candid, if only for a moment. “Look,” he says, quietly. “I understand this isn’t ideal for you. Trust me, it’s not ideal for us, either.” At first, it’s probably unclear what this is - whether it’s their current situation, or something else.
“This entire world,” Bucky goes on, “is fucked up. And I’m not saying I trust you right out the gate, because I don’t, but I want to build a better one. A better one, for both our peoples.” Because humans and vampires, they’re two different things, now. Two different species, but different species can live together, if they can find a symbiosis that works well enough for them. Bucky’s no optimist, he’s a realist if ever there was one, but there’s something in him that says symbiotic relationships work all over the place in nature. It’s realistic, not fantasy, to think this could become one. “Would you be willing to work toward that, or are you just interested in finding your next meal and forgetting all about where you came from, and what you actually want to survive?”
Because a lifetime living off of diet soda-synthetic human blood sounds pretty shitty. And it only makes things worse, not better, for everyone involved.
no subject
It's not quite there, because fresh real blood is something that he believes no drug or alcohol or sex could ever match. It's almost like a sixth sense, a hunger that no one could understand until you're saddled with it all of a sudden and it's in your very bones, your cell walls. His tongue swipes at his lips as he reluctantly settles with a clink of the heavy duty chains, that dull yawning void in his stomach fading that he can almost pretend that Barnes is another vampire if he ignores the thud of his heart and the roar of blood in his veins and major arteries. Matt stills again as he listens to the sounds of his captor - and now, recent dinner - dealing with the blood still welling up from the bites. The hiss of a bandage unwinding, the whisper as he tightens it and the roar of blood is muffled a little, the tang not as sharp in the air.
Matt's chin lifts. It's mostly clean aside from a splotch of red on his chin where he missed a spot.
"I'm...open to new things," Matt measures his words out, his pale tongue wetting his fangs and he finds himself wondering about Barnes all over again. What he's asking for is beyond spotting blood for a single meal. It's opening himself up to working with a vampire, a literal bloodsucker, and actually indulging in that funny thing called trust. It even sounds strange coming out of Barnes's mouth, colored by body heat and all the little imperfections in his breath that a vampire simply doesn't have. "It'd be nice not worrying about what happens once we drink our fill," maybe not the best choice of words, but anyway: "What're you proposing?"
Barnes has a blind vampire's attention, the blindfold turned his way, the slightly pointed ears pricked toward the rasp of his voice.
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"A partnership," he says. "A way to make life better for us all. Because humans can't just live on the outskirts forever, and vampires aren't gonna settle for synthetics while the real thing's still around." So, he thinks, they can help each other. "Humans make more blood," he points out, maybe a little wryly. "But only if they're alive. And it works better when we're, y'know, healthy and well fed." Which, of course, they aren't, living like this, hiding and forced to leave as little of a mark on the world as possible. "So, don't you think it would be in all our best interests, humans and vampires, if we can find a way to co-exist?"
He lets that point sink in, just for a moment, before he adds, "You can help us. You're a lawyer, and honestly, this is gonna need to be law. We're gonna need people in high places on our side, and we're gonna need legislation to cover our asses. I will not sell humanity into slavery. I'm proposing we live together, on equal footing, not one above the other. You think that could work? I know it won't be easy," he finishes, in a tone that says he doesn't give a shit if it's hard. Some things are worth fighting for. This is.
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"I don't know if it could work," Matt says slowly, parsing out his words. "But going after it legally would be the best bet, I think. I'm just not sure how much time we'd have to get anything substantial passed. It could be years."
Because it will take time. Vampires are creatures of habit, resistant to change: all they care is being fed and going about their lives and he'd assume that most haven't actually given serious thought to the rationing situation, the idea that maybe there's too many eternal mouths to feed. Everything Barnes's has said makes sense. To look at this purely from a dispassionate standpoint: there's only so many humans out there and they aren't breeding fast enough to replace supply.
"I think I get my partner onboard," Matt adds. Foggy's a softy - or he was - and he knows he still remembers the whole reason they started the firm. That and he knows he'd be more receptive if he had a taste of Barnes the way he did. Real, fresh blood? It can do a lot to make one more...agreeable. Just speaking from experience. "But you're going to need more than just two lawyers. You might die of old age before we make progress, you know."
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"All right," he says; and then, "I know. But that's your problem, not mine. You're the lawyers, not me - so you find the ones you think might be willing, and we'll see what we can do to persuade them. Does that sound like a deal?"
And then, because he's not stupid, or cruel, "I'm going to let you out of those chains."
He doesn't move to do it just yet, though - first, he waits to see what the reaction he gets to that statement is. Though for all intents and purposes, he's calm - no little kick of adrenaline, no heart rate putting on a burst of speed. Just careful calm, same as before.
no subject
Matt stills for a beat too long to be human at the idea of being freed. The shackle are tight - maybe too tight - but he hadn't noticed how tight because he'd been hungry, because his pale skin and muscle had already started contracting because he hadn't fed for hours. Now that he's had a taste of Bucky, there's a suppleness to his body that hadn't been there before. Chains and straps suddenly dig into his skin. Press it to muscle and bone. It's such a strange sensation that he needs a moment to digest it. His eye fangs peek out, red tinged, pressing against his lower lip as he bites it as if he's biting back desperation.
"Okay," he says finally, "I'd appreciate that. And I think we have a deal."
The chains rattle and he flinches at how loud they sound, even louder than normal. With Barnes's blood flooding his system, it sends his senses into overdrive. He almost feels he could see Barnes, even with his ruined eyes, even with the dirty blindfold wound tight over them for good measure.
Timeskip ahoy!
Matt's made a few trips back to the city, since then. He always comes back, but every time, Bucky feels something in his gut unclench, when the lawyer returns as promised. Just because he's earned Bucky's trust doesn't mean that anyone else out there has, and it's dangerous not just for humans, but for vampires who might be sympathetic to those humans, too. And it's not exactly a secret, that Matt and his partner are sympathetic. So Bucky maybe worries more than he has to, every time Matt leaves, but he's learned, too, that you can really never worry too much. Worrying keeps you sharp. And in this world, staying sharp can save you.
Matt's due back in today, after another short trip into the city. Bucky's hoping this time he'll come back with news of progress - real progress, however small - toward their goal. He knows the vampires don't want things to change. That they'll have to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into it. But he also knows that change starts small, builds slowly, and he's willing to wait. Mostly. He'd still like to see some signs of progress, sooner rather than later. And he'd like to see Matt's face returning, too. The guy isn't so bad - he's funny, and sincere, and sharp - just Bucky's type. He's had friends like this guy. He's lost friends like this guy. And maybe, slowly, Matt is becoming one of those friends.
Maybe that, too, is why Bucky's the one standing sentry duty at the compound's gate, waiting for Matt to return from this little trip home.
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Today he's late returning by a few hours. A new prospective client who'd dropped by the offices. Seemed...too calm and composed for the sob story the vampire handed them. Now Matt's personal mission is to try to help those in need, but something had felt off about it. He'd felt...watched. Not that he could even describe what the client looked like, but there'd been some kind of sixth sense - left over from the human days - of being watched even after the prospective client left.
So he'd waited. Even slipped out around the block and then stopped by for a coffee he didn't want.
But that's the problem about being a vampire - you grow stagnant, you don't train the paranoid, red alert senses a human would have to their fullest. So Matt doesn't realize that he's been followed, doesn't realize that he should've never left the office. He waits and then he strikes out for Barnes's camp, so close to dawn that he wonders if he's only imagining the sun's heat about to hit him. He's pushing it close, closer than he ever did before. His hand's clenched around the cane as he walks up to the gate, unable to see the dawn turning the sky pink but feeling the shift in heat, a vampire's fear of the coming sun clenching at his chest, his throat. His skin turns even more white around his knuckles as he walks into view of the gate and he can pick out Barnes's specific scent, his breathing patterns that separates him from the others.
"We need to talk, Barnes," Matt hisses as soon as he figures they're close enough. "Think there's a risk that someone's caught onto your operation."
The compound has an awning: old solar panels that require the humans to get up on ladders and wipe off the dirt and grime collecting on the arrays if they want power. It's partial cover, especially if they were mid-day. But they aren't, and with dawn approaching, the sun possibly slanting in at a near horizontal angle, and Matt's on edge. Visibly so. He holds out a pale hand, indicating that he'd very much like to get under cover where the sun can't sneak up on him.