wake up

[akillersmile]

(1)

Kyle was new to the area. Hell, he was new to the country. As easy as it was to pick up the basics - public transit, prices, slang - he was having a harder time learning the small and intertwining streets in his neighborhood. He felt almost constantly lost, which made him almost constantly anxious about knowing his exits and whether he would ever find his damn AWOL C.O. he'd come to find in the first place.

It's one such night, disoriented on the way back to his shared flat from a quiet drink at a pub, that he stumbles into something he thought he left behind. Kyle knows what he's looking at the moment he sees it. The vampire feeding on the teenage boy who seems near unconsciousness.

"Hey!" He yells without thinking, waving his arms as if trying to chase a coyote off from a stray stash of food. The vampire, in a stroke of luck for Kyle or perhaps to keep his face hidden, decides to take off rather than engage in a conflict, dropping the now passed out boy into the street. Kyle runs over, ripping off his shirt to apply pressure to the wound on the kid's neck, then looking around for someone - anyone - nearby. "Hey, I could use some help here."

(2)

Post traumatic stress is never an easy thing. Although Kyle never receives full on hallucinations like a couple of his brothers had struggled with, the traumas continue to sneak up on him occasionally, clouding his judgment and ratcheting his anxiety into high gear. This time, it's in the middle of his run. He's not even sure if it was a scent or a sound that set him off. Maybe the combination. Whatever it is, it forces him to stop and focus, to breathe through it.

He takes a seat on the nearby bench, legs shoulder-width apart, forearms on his knees, eyes closed, head down to hide his face. His mandated counselor told him it was the most efficient breathing position. Now he uses it to relax, to try to force the body working against him to calm down and get back to the present with him. And he probably looks troubled, if not a little crazy, to the passersby, but that's rarely been a concern for him.

(3)

Vampires are real. Kyle learned about that some time ago, when Cooper came to his hospital room and gave him a reason to live and fight through the Fever. He'd been trained in that specialty, hunting, and it had been most of his tour in South Africa. What unnerved him was learning that they were everywhere. The problem wasn't contained to an area, as he'd been lead to believe, but the creatures sprawled in various corners of the world, thriving on the suffering and death of humans. So, yeah, he took it upon himself to do something about it.

Kyle has a split lip, a couple seriously bruised ribs, a swollen and bruised cheek, and some bloody scratches on both an arm and his neck from the fight. But you should see the other guy. The vampire lays dead on the ground, a broken pool cue shoved through his heart. All things considered, Kyle feels like he got off pretty well.

To the casual observer, it looks like a bar room brawl gone bad. Which is why, when he hears someone behind him, Kyle tenses and silently curses in his mind. The soldier lifts his hands to either side of him in a gesture of surrender, showing he's unarmed. "It's not what it looks like."

(4)

Hoping to settle in faster than the average, Kyle's out running errands throughout the day. He's picking up some new clothes, having arrived with only his backpack's worth of stuff, and groceries for the apartment. At the same time, he pops in to occasional shops to apply for jobs. Sweeper, clerk. Anything with decent pay at a local joint who will accept an American with a military background in a questionable economy.

[Feel free to bump into him shopping, or be in a shop when he asks for work, or anywhere in between. Fairly open.]

Comments

[akillersmile]

"I don't kill vampires for a living," he replies, shaking his head. Kyle supposes that he technically did for awhile, as it was their only mission in South Africa for months, but even then, it was the military asking it of him and not some random mercenary mission. The idea of continuing the job as a contractor has never crossed his mind.

"Here I was thinking of bartending.." Kyle chuckles a little, pausing as a waiter walks over and sets two drinks in front of them, offering a quick thanks to the man before continuing. "What can you tell me about the Night Council? Who are they? What do they want? Is it like a lobbying thing?"

[protagonized]

The drinks come. Simon grins happily at a barmaid whose attractiveness is enhanced by the alcohol he's already consumed tonight and clumsily reaches for his glass, settling down to do some more imbibing.

"'s a good job," he agrees after a large gulp. "Bartending, I mean. Will you give me a discount once you get a job?"

Simon's discovered that being in a constant alcoholic haze is very taxing on the pocketbook.

"Night Council's sort of...magical government. They represent all the factions--witches, metas, shapeshifters--" at this he points to himself "--and they've even got agreements with some vampires and werewolves. They've got their own supernatural police group called the Guardians and their job's meant to make sure that normal people don't know what goes on. And they're always trying to take parts of the city away from other factions, which I've never really understood. That's another reason we had to get out of there. It isn't a good idea to kill a vampire in vampire territory."

Evidently, Simon's a talkative drunk.

[akillersmile]

"Depends on the management, I guess," Kyle offers vaguely with a shrug. He's a person who fully enjoys supporting those he considers friends as much as he can, but also has a fairly strict moral code and doesn't believe in turning a blind eye.

At the explanation, Kyle takes a drink and then another short stretch of silence to even begin to figure out what to say. He knows about vampires, of course, but the rest is mostly new to him and the idea of a government to rule them all scares him a little. At least the bit about not killing a vampire in their territory is obvious and familiar.

"You're a shapeshifter? Is that like that Mexican Goat Man? El Chimichanga or whatever it's called? And wait- Why don't they want normal people to know what goes on? I get that avoiding a mass panic is a good idea, but vampires prey on humans. How can humans protect themselves if they don't know the threat exists?" A beat. "What's the structure like? Of the government. Is it like a board with an elected leader or more of a democratic council?"

[protagonized]

"I turn into a dog," Simon shrugs. No use hiding it. "And if you're planning on using a pool cue on me because of it, I would advise against it. You're not the only American hunter I've met this month." He pauses. "You're not from Seattle, are you?"

If he's just been spilling the beans about London's supernatural community to one of his grandfather's buddies, he's properly fucked.

"Don't ask me, I don't understand it much either. It's just easier that way. The supernatural people have our own world and everyone else gets theirs. It's not like they don't mix. I go to University and work at a Starbucks. Or I used to. Think they might've sacked me after I stopped showing up."

As for the Night Council...

"'S more of an oligar...aligarky? Oligarchy. Bunch of powerful people at the top."

[akillersmile]

"No, Ohio-," he begins, vaguely confused before practically cutting himself off to address the more important issue. "I don't kill go around killing people and I'm not a hunter. I've killed some vampires before and I know a lot about them, but earlier was mostly self-defense. So unless you're about to wolf out on me and go for the jugular, I don't have any reason to attack you."

Kyle runs a hand through his hair, trying to parse out all the new information into the important bits versus effective sidebars. "You turn into a dog. Like a werewolf? Are you a werewolf?"

"What happens with they don't mix? Is that when the Council moves in?" He sighs and takes another sip of his drink. "Who could I talk to, if I wanted to? Someone on the Council. Are any of them actually reachable?"

[protagonized]

Simon winces when Kyle mentions going for the jugular, remembering the feeling of tearing out his grandfather's throat. Tasting his blood.

"You're not in any danger of that," he says, a bit stiffly.

"No, not a werewolf." Simon shakes his head. "I can control the change; they can't." To illustrate, he closes his eyes and concentrates. When he opens them, they've turned the ice blue color common to certain breeds of dog, including whatever combination of breeds his dog form happens to be. He hasn't had much practice holding a partial shift, though; he only manages the change for a few seconds before his eyes change back to their usual brown. Jesus fuck, that hurts. "Plus," he adds, rubbing his eyes, "it's not the full moon."

He's still seeing spots. That's a party trick he'll have to practice before he attempts to debut it again.

"They fight. Sometimes the Night Council gets involved, and sometimes it's the Night Council doing the fighting. The vampires and the werewolves don't like each other, and the fae--kind of like fairies but don't call them that--don't really like witches." Or one witch in particular.

"They're pretty reachable. Um, I can give you the number of a werewolf who knows more about this than I do. Or you can go to Redbright Institute. It's sort of a school for witches and other supernatural types. I took classes there when I first started to change. I was pants-shittingly terrified of what I could do, at first. They helped."

[akillersmile]

Kyle stares with open surprise at the changing color of Simon's eyes. There's no way to fake a change that drastic. At the kid's clarifications about changing at will and then at the full moon, Kyle nods somewhat stupidly. "Right, of course. Not a full moon."

So many cliches, so little time.

"Vampires and werewolves, fae and witches. Got it. The Night Council are above everyone? Every race recognizes their power?" It's all fairly confusing and drinking as they discuss the matter doesn't necessarily help. Kyle is in the middle of making a mental note to contact some werewolves when Simon offers some on a silver platter. "Yeah. Who's the werewolf? I want to talk to him. And where's Redbright?"

At least the guy is honest. Kyle has felt that scared a couple times in his life, but he doubts he'll ever feel it again. When you stare death in the eye and death blinks first, it's hard to be afraid of it anymore.

[protagonized]

"The Night Council don't control everyone, as far as I can tell." Simon shrugs. "I'm still a bit new to the politics, myself. I think the fae don't like to be controlled by anyone; they're always fighting with the Night Council." As for the werewolves and vampires, who knows? He knows Skip is okay with Redbright, and that's about it.

Speaking of Skip...

"It's 'her,' not 'him.' The werewolf's a girl. Her name's Sofia, goes by Skip. She's my..." He trails off, leaving a pregnant pause. What is she to him? "...girlfriend," he says eventually, though he doesn't sound very sure of it. "And I can give you Redbright's address. Just give me your phone; I'll plug it into Google Maps."

[akillersmile]

"What's the Night Council made up of? Is it like every race has a representative or is it some bullshit politics about power with whoever's winning taking the seats?" He asks, trying not to get worked up with all the new information.

Kyle takes a long sip of his drink, wondering why the name sounds familiar until it clicks. He practically chokes on his beer when it does. The 'human' at the bar who was talking about the Night Council and supporting the vampires feeding inside. Apparently Simon was right about not all werewolves and vampires being opposed.

"I met her," he coughs, clearing his throat as he hands over his phone. "Briefly. I don't think she likes me."

[protagonized]

Simon's drink is suddenly empty. He eyes it suspiciously, wondering where it had all gone. He can't have drunk it all in so short a time, could he?

(Answer: absolutely.)

He waves for another one and turns back to Kyle. "I think so?" His words are slurring a bit more. He likes being drunk. Drunk is good. Drunk is easy. He doesn't have to remember things when he's drunk. "Pretty sure they are. I've only met a couple of 'em." Sylvia Redbright and Gilbert Norrell and that panther lady at Norrell's party. He isn't sure about the rest.

He laughs at Kyle's next comment like it's the funniest thing in the world. "She doesn't like most people," he points out once he can breathe again. "Not even sure she likes me half the time."

[akillersmile]

Kyle doesn't mind paying for the drinks, still patiently nursing his own. He's a little disappointed that Simon's starting to lose it though and, unfortunately, the soldier isn't really one to let people drown themselves in a pint. When the waiter delivers the next drink, Kyle subtly pays the tab and tells the guy to cut them off. One more drink, then he'll get the kid home.

"Yeah? Do you know their names?" He tries to keep his tone light and conversational, even as he feels his time to get answers slipping away.

At the latter remark, Kyle chuckles with Simon, shaking his head at just how funny his new friend finds the remark. "Good to know."