[ PSL : A Vampire Hunter(?) & A Witch Finder ]

[madenomistake]

Comments

Not yet renegade

[madenomistake]

[ The city they've been brought to isn't the kind of city where night and day makes much difference. Towers cast shadows, neon and LCD displays— which Lament doesn't entirely understand but they keep glowing heedless of his failure to have any sort of mental framework for their workings— illuminate the streets enough that his eyes never quite adjust to the dark. Which means he's honestly not doing a great job as an enforcer. Small things slip past him. Being attentive only leads to him being even more startled when a problem appears to flicker into existence, like the strobe of a weird glowy shop sign.

Which is fine! Better than fine, even. If there were any part of this that was good, being bad at the job he doesn't want to be doing was it. By every metric, the vampires really got the wrong guy when they brought him in. He's supposed to be the guy in the lab! The guy who tests blood in flasks for its regeneration ability, sharpens the stakes, figures out wardings for doors that alert them when the wrong person got invited in, the best bullets for silver content versus cost effectiveness and material availability. The guy who, in those last days, had frantically been reformulating silver pills to stave off turning. An endeavour that really really hadn't worked out anyway. So maybe he's just bad at jobs, even ones he does want to do! Maybe he just sucks. Not in the same way vampires suck, but probably about just as bad.

And now quota is coming up.

Lament really doesn't know what to do about that. For now, his plan of action is pacing the beat he's been stationed, trying not to fidget with his assigned weaponry lest anyone watching realise he's holding it all wrong. ]

[antichthonia]

[remus, meanwhile, maybe wishes he were a little worse at all this.]

. . . Listen. You're not holding that right.

[madenomistake]

[ there's really no reason for Lament to get startled by the other guy stationed out here.

Except that he really wasn't expecting anyone to talk to him and then Remus did. So! He jumps and drops his weapon ]

Ahh!

[ and then immediately drops to pick it up, like he can pretend that didn't just happen. Nope, he didn't scream, he's just holding the sharp thing... wrong. Rrright. ]

Uh... is that so. How am I... supposed? [ his voice makes it clear he doesn't really think he is supposed to be handling weaponry at all. But, finishing the thought: ] To do it?

[antichthonia]

First of all, you're not meant to do that.

[hard not to have sympathy for someone that nervous, though!]

Give it to me for a moment, and I'll show you.

[madenomistake]

I know that much!

[ he gives him a long look like he's trying to determine trustworthiness but ultimately hands it over. ]

... that's pretty much all I know, though. And not holding it by the sharp bit.

[antichthonia]

[he takes the knife and extends it carefully, displaying how he's holding it]

No fingers extended up away from the handle. Don't put your thumb over the top. It's not like a kitchen knife grip.

[madenomistake]

[ He takes an immediate step back after handing the knife over, creating space between them ]

Oh... yeah. That looks . . . right?

[ He's seen other people handle weaponry plenty, so if he compares the mental images that does seem right. ]

Okay. You can put it down now, I'll take it back.

[antichthonia]

What, no trust?

[handing it back easily]

[madenomistake]

No? Not really!

[ He takes it back, but turns on his heel to go back to pacing as soon as he gets it. He's gesticulating in a way that is dangerous to do whilst brandishing a blade. ]

Why? Am I supposed to? We're a bunch of people picked off— not even the streets! A bunch of people who are willing to work for vampires, who got handed weapons, and we're supposed to do random violence! And they didn't even make sure we're good at violence! I don't think any of us are that vetted! Or vetted at all! And I'm not going to trust people who work for vampires!!

[antichthonia]

[remus watches . . . not really with judgment, not even amusement, just kinda tired]

Rhetorical question. What's with the fucking theatrics? Take it easy. You'll drop that again.

[madenomistake]

I'm!! I'm!

[ he folds back into himself, hunching his shoulders and putting his gesturing blade down at his side. Flat: ]

No, you're right. I'm making a big fuss over nothing. There's nothing to be upset about. This is all normal, right?

[antichthonia]

No. But you need to pace yourself. If you lose it right at the beginning, it doesn't do you any good. Right now we're just walking. Okay?

[madenomistake]

. . . okay.

[ he'll fall into pace, a step behind him ]

[antichthonia]

You don't have to trust me, but I can probably make this easier for you if you want.

[madenomistake]

[ muttering because if he doesn't keep it locked down he'll start shouting again ]

I don't want easy. What's that even mean, anyway? Get good at this and keep my head down?

[antichthonia]

I mean . . .

I don't know. I can do most of it for you. When that's possible. You shouldn't even have been picked, so—

[madenomistake]

Yeah! I shouldn't have been, but no one should be! You do understand, right? What they are, what we're working for?

[antichthonia]

Sure. I'm afraid to die just the same as you. We're both here for that, aren't we?

[madenomistake]

. . . Dying wouldn't do any good, at least. I think it's the being brought back part that scares me more.

[antichthonia]

Correct. Maybe dial back the righteousness, then, so long as we're both in exactly the same position and I'm offering to try to make it easier.

[madenomistake]

[ huffs, looking down and away, without apologising. ]

Right. I know.

[ he goes quiet but it doesn't last ]

Why are you offering, anyway? How. . . how long have you been working for them?

[antichthonia]

Couple weeks, maybe? I'm offering because I never enjoy seeing your type pushed into work like this.

[madenomistake]

I'm not useless. I'm really not. You don't need to worry about my type.

[antichthonia]

I didn't say you're useless. I mean it'll shake you up a lot worse than it does to me. I can tell.

Up to you, though. I won't argue with you about it.

[madenomistake]

. . . I used to be a hunter.

[ . . . that's not really believable so after a moment he clarifies, looking down to check he's still gripping his blade correctly ]

Hunter's assistant, anyway.

It's not the violence— even if I'm bad at that. It's just the... everything else.