psychoshenanigans | Goodnight // AU

Entry tags:

coil,
zhas

Goodnight // AU

[clans of Life-Eaters are notoriously awful.

they build these hives underground because they are too hideous to travel among humans. some make their homes in existing sewer networks, but this particular clan had cobbled together a multi-story underground bunker running the length of a full city block underneath some otherwise perfectly normal apartment buildings. it's a dismal place. some cement, metal siding, creaking floorboards, old furniture. their sense of interior decorating makes Saoirse's look festive and colorful. an unfortunate mildew smell emanates from pretty much everything.

negotiations with Life-Eaters are always pretty simple. either they agree to help the Red Queen fight against Hel and the West Court's tyranny, or Zhas brings a squad in to destroy anything in those tunnels that moves. it was thrilling for the first six hours or so, when the hunt was on--but word of further negotiation drifted in from outside, and for whatever reason, they were told to cease the killing and stand their ground.

that was a few days ago. they are not allowed, nor are they able, to physically leave the perimeter. Saoirse herself is on her way, or so Veins has told them--and they are waiting out a bet that will win them the clan's full allegiance... if they can stick it out. Zhas imagined, after the first of the Kin-Eaters started cracking, that it was easier for Saoirse to agree to than it was for them to actually see through.

Day 4. tensions are running high...]

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[no.

he might be silent, but the sound in his head is a roar. he doesn't have time for this.

he bounds forward without hesitation--hits the wall to turn without losing momentum--and charges through the doorway and into the creature with every ounce of hate and muscle he has.

as he pounces on it, he wishes he had claws. but hands and teeth and chair legs will have to do.]

[the thing tumbles to the ground, Coil on top of it. it must have been one of the sneakier, quiet ones, for it lacks in much physical prowess beyond what its meaty exterior can handle.

it's easy to tear into, but there's a lot. black ichor, a putrid smell. it doesn't have the balance to get much more than a few scratches in, doomed to mostly-human fingernails itself.

it chews the words "kin-eating scum" out at Coil before trying to bite into the boy's shoulder--but the attack is its last resort.]

[self-preservation is not presently at the forefront of his mind, but he is still envisioning punching through this thing's face when he lashes out at the fangs lurching up at him. he wishes he was big enough to tear the creature's whole head from its spine; he feels like he could be.

he needs it to stop moving. time is running out and he needs to go.]

[it's a little like punching through a glass window. it shatters, collapsing inward and bursting out the other side--though Coil's fingers are raked with scratches and sting with its gorey remains.

for a moment, anyway. the body quickly stills and starts unfurling into ash from the center-point of the injury. soon it will be nothing more than a scorched pile, and maybe a few broken teeth.

the room is silent again, save for the minute sounds of Zhas being still alive over by the base of the desk.

leaving Coil no time to think, there's another, much louder presence slithering up into the doorway. the boy has been around long enough to know, even in his excited frenzy, that it's a familiar face this time.

Veins showed up. it was probably to find Zhas, but now the spectre of a man looks over the scene--incredulous in the middle of what was already a hurried frustration.]

[first, there is only cold, startled fear. that self-preservation sense finally flickers to life as Coil understands on some primal level exactly how much trouble he's probably in. for that first moment, he can only stare over his shoulder in overexposed surprise, crouched guiltily over the body of one of the creatures that they were theoretically supposed to recruit. everything about this is wrong and he knows it.

but then, he thinks of the pathetic sounds coming from over by the table and he starts to scramble up to his feet. waving at Veins and half-signing in panicky relief (and incriminatingly drenched in blood), he points over at Zhas. ]

[Veins is not having it. Veins gestures pointedly in the exact same direction as Coil, because he sees everything that's happening. he could smell the blood from down the hallway. he signs, quickly and urgently, as he lacks enough form to have a physical voice:

'we have been ordered up to the surface,' and as if that wasn't clear enough, he adds pointedly, 'Saoirse is here. we cannot wait.']

[at that piece of news, Coil's mouth parts in surprise--though it seems suspiciously like the silent shape of the word, 'ma.'

and without knowing what else to do, he turns back to his fallen brother. should they carry him out? Coil hovers down at his side, afraid to touch him let alone move him, but he's going to die if they don't get him to help.

he's going to die.]

[despite spending the majority of Zhas' life with him, Veins has never been very sympathetic towards the human and his human-related problems. the dim-witted boy was doomed to die sometime, he just hadn't expected that looming death to come at the worst possible time.

he knows that his Queen will be furious if her beloved huntsman dies, but Veins does not have a body with which to help, heal, or even carry him. she needs someone to help her up on the surface, and all three of them should have been up there minutes ago.

the best he can do is order, leave him, hoping that the green fledgeling will abandon Zhas in favor of doing something useful. perhaps they can still save Zhas too, if they hurry. he's not about to hold his metaphorical breath, however--if Coil isn't on board after just one more repetition, Veins is leaving.

Zhas continues to lose blood, slumped over on the floor as he has been. his hand is clamped against his wound pretty well. maybe it got through to him that it's important.]

[stay with his brother to watch him die, jar everything loose and spend time dragging him to the surface so that he can watch him die on the way there, or race up for help and risk him dying alone, down in the dark.

those are his choices. and at first, the latter one is unfathomable to him as an actual option. but, as he senses the Shadow readying to abandon them all down here in this tomb, he (perhaps aided by keener instincts now) runs a few fast calculations through his head.

while he would rather be with Zhas while he dies than leave him to a more lonely fate, he would also rather him live than die at all. and the longer that he thinks about it (mere fractions of a second, but they make up for it in weight), the more he realizes the only real choice he has if he does want to attempt to salvage this.

a stressed breath crushes out of his chest as the scales begin to tip--nearly turning into a whine between clenched teeth--and his weight finally shifts in the direction of the door. tearing himself away will feel very literal, but if he is going to be convinced to leave... it will have to be now, before he can change his mind.]

[the Shadow is easy to follow, and purposefully so. his form glides effortlessly over walls, around corners, under doors... he would be almost impossible to follow for long if he was not a slinking beacon of energy.

they wind back up through the compound. a couple of faces look up from side rooms as they pass, but those few will not be joining them. something else snaps at them from the corner of a grand hall, but that one is restrained, chained to a desk for the safety of the rest of the group.

up ahead, a light blooms brilliantly from an open door. the light of the sun is something none of them have seen for days. Veins has to stop just short of the entryway, in the shadow of the structure, and even then his outline waivers as if threatening to disperse out of existence.

Coil can hear his Queen addressing someone, out in the sunlight. a few steps further, and the hallway opens up into a wide alley between apartment buildings. the dozen recognizable vampires who remain are sitting on parked cars or leaning on trash bins, looking haggard. Saoirse is in the very middle, flanked by two new monsters who arrived with her. she herself is wearing a beautiful red dress a few centuries out of style, her face partly obscured by a matching red parasol.

standing maybe ten, twelve feet away from her, under the protective cover of an awning, is another Life-Eater. his limbs are far longer than they should be, his teeth fit oddly in his mouth, his hair is sparse like straw, and his eyes are little more than small white dots--but he is dressed in a suit tailored to fit his disproportionately-sized body. he responds to something in a rasping voice.]

...and of course, I will lend you my full support, as agreed upon. We have been looking to expand into this territory for a very long time.

[the "gentleman" leans against one of the poles, being careful to keep his head where those in windows above will not be able to see him. Coil may be much more concerned with the number of heads that start turning in his direction, however, when they notice that something smells like fresh, human blood. there is absolutely no chance in Saoirse's polite posture as she responds to her conversation partner.]

Well, I should hardly act as if this was a difficult decision. We would much rather provide a home for our allies than let old wounds fester. It is our hope that your blood will grow strong here, for the same reasons as your own...

[politics, politics. what's a panicking vampire to do?]

[if he'd still had a heart, it would be hammering against his ribs... and as it is, he still feels the sort of nervy nausea as if it had been.

he might be half-blinded and squinting in the sun, but he can't miss the hungry eyes that pin on him, and he trains on the lovely scarlet form of his master just as fast. he knows what he must look like as he comes creeping out into the light, flinching and bloodstained. he's just another skulking rat of a monster, and he's instinctually expecting to be snapped up like one at any second.

but that isn't going to stop him; something much more valuable than him is at stake, bleeding out down in the dark.

so, like submissive, panicked dog, he quickly skirts around the edge of the gathering and heads for his Queen.]

[and the pack of wolves perk up their heads as he passes. loyal survivors or not, they're still hungry, and most of them have let down their guards now that they're finally out in the open again.

but by some miracle, the tremendous tension that suddenly fills the air does not break as Coil goes creeping across it. with audible confusion, the Life-Eater tilts his head and stares at the new guy, leaving Saoirse no choice but to acknowledge the thing crawling towards her.

she turns her head only. her warm smile comes just a split-second too late, a quirk that's easy to overlook among their kind. anyone who has lived with her knows it's a sure sign she's being disingenuous.]

Yes, dear, what is it?

[her words are soft, velvet. she holds out her hand gently for Coil. even she knows how to save face in front of important company.]

[he would love to believe her smile. he wants so badly to cling onto her offered hand, hiding where she will lovingly protect him, making the whole world better in an instant.

but, thanks to the rigorous training bestowed upon him by both of his mothers, he manages to keep from being as much of a mess as he could be. pathetic still, of course, but he doesn't crumble apart completely when he very much wants to.

he sidles up within her arm's reach, but refrains from grabbing her hand. instead, he pleads up at her in that way that he does--half with his eyes and half screamed in his head. and though he's never quite sure she ever understands, he begs with the sign for 'help.']

Mm.

[her smile drops into a small frown. she slowly lowers her hand. she turns her face back towards their new contact, though his beady eyes remain unblinkingly fixed on the ugly little thing who's gotten the Queen's attention, even as she speaks to him again.]

I'm afraid I must step away for a moment. May we continue this discussion later? [her tone remains polite and even as she reaches over to drag her long fingers through Coil's hair.] I think that the cover of night would do us all some good. My right-hand man would be happy to give you a tour of your new living quarters in the meantime.

[she also says this without giving the man much time to put in his own complaints. he seems to be calculating something as he finally drags his eyes away from Coil and the mess the boy has smeared all over his face, smirking just enough to show his sizable fangs.]

What, I don't get to meet the skull guy?

[Saoirse's response to that is quick, too.] Oh, I don't think you'd have much to talk about. A surviving member of the Shadow Clan is far more suited to your tastes, I think.

[the misdirect works, even if it comes at a price. the Life-Eater's eyes "light up" in as much as they can without definition, and he puts his weight on his own two feet again.] You do keep colorful company, don't you?

[Saoirse gives a small hum in agreement.] To prove it, I'm afraid he can only communicate in gestures. He's proficient in several languages. [she stops petting Coil's hair, pushing the tips of her long fingers against the back of his scalp as if suddenly holding him hostage. her attention never leaves their guest.] Will that suffice?

[another tension settles over the scene, a different one than before. as the Life-Eater narrows his eyes, a danger that had been lurking under a layer of polite airs and smiles suddenly bleeds to the surface. he works his jaw, likely scheming up a number of reasons to say no, to complicate things, and to twist this to his advantage.

...but at the last second, after a stifling silence, his posture gives way and he shrugs.]

Normally, I'd say otherwise... But lucky for you, I've got a blood-daughter who's lost all but the last of her voice. [he points at his own throat with a sticky chortle.] Runs in the family, and all. That hand-speak of yours has come in handy.

[which is when he gestures vaguely at Coil. Saoirse smiles again, for once sounding a little more genuine about it. the subject of children always put her in a good mood.]

Then this is a more fortunate meeting than anticipated. He will meet with you just in the entrance, there. As for the rest of my boys...

[finally, the turns with intent to go somewhere, startling the rest of the pack into attention. all eyes are on her again as she waves her hand dismissively in the air, already walking back towards the entrance of the compound.] Attend to yourselves elsewhere.

[no one has to tell them twice. the goons scatter, the guards fall back to stick around either side of the entrance, and Coil will find that Saoirse has already taken up his arm in her own to keep him from getting too far ahead.

they start moving very quickly once they're out of eyesight. mysterious swiftness, and all that.]

[Coil may no longer have a heartbeat, but there is still a nightmarish ticking sound counting off seconds in his head, marking every moment that slips away while the elders negotiate. it's easier not to fidget impatiently when you're dead, but his stillness and obedience is all an act. that imaginary clock overshadows everything else. he can't even focus on the words being exchanged over the din of it.

so, it's a good thing that she catches his arm and keeps him on a short leash, otherwise he would have raced off before it would have been considered polite. and once that element is no longer a concern and they can move quickly, he wastes no time in leading her back down the path to trouble, like a good little hound.]

[the smell of blood has only worsened. it's easy to imagine some other vampire being lured down by the scent of a fresh meal, especially in those corridors nearest to the scene of the crime. nothing gets in their way, however, not even a stray rat or a curious straggler.

when they get there, Zhas is gone.

sort of. there's a small puddle on the floor where he was sitting, and a trail of blood that leads back out the door, further down the hallway, and around the corner. there's a pulse down there somewhere, however weak.]

[if there had happened to be anyone around who could have heard inside Coil's head, they would have been treated to an internal wail of panic at the sight of Zhas' absence.

on the outside, there's only a distressed hiss between the young vampire's teeth before he jogs back out of the room, and races along the trail down the hall.

for all he knows, Zhas could have been dragged off by one of the monsters, down into the dark... so, he's hurrying and already frantically putting together a plan of what to do next. he's expecting the worst, and he's expecting to have to work and search for whatever is left of his friend.]

[honestly, Zhas didn't make it very far.

at some point while he was left alone, he got it into his head that he should move. not an entirely unfounded idea; even in such a tranquilized state, he knows from experience that he was likely attracting hungry vampires. he didn't want someone else to come along and drain him. he was waiting for Coil to come back. one could not come before the other.

so, he managed to hobble onto his feet, drag himself out the door, and make it all the way down the hall before nearly blacking out where he was standing. he made it to the floor without a concussion, and it's there that Coil stumbles into him--sitting with his back to the wall with Coil's poor sweatshirt still pressed up against his wound.

his hand is covered in blood. he looks up at the sudden approach of other people, but he doesn't see them very well. he's still dizzy, half-asleep with contented bloodloss. from behind Coil, Saoirse's voice slices between the both of them.]

Stop shouting, child, you've already caused enough trouble as it is.

[Saoirse rounds the corner, folding up her parasol and frowning intently at the crumpled form on the floor. her dress billows up around her as she crouches to get a better look at Zhas, only stopping when her face is hovering only a couple of inches away from his. she seems to be looking intently into his eyes--though if Zhas can see her in return, he doesn't act like it. his gaze is unfocused, absent.]

And as for you... [she seems to say to him.] Forcing your own mother to break her vows, what a selfish boy. After all the times I'd refused...

[with a sigh, she eyes down at all the blood. though the seconds continue to tick by, she tilts her face just enough to speak to Coil again, tone low.]

...What you have done here is unforgivable. Do you understand?

[despite practically tripping over his brother in the attempt to hunt him down, Coil promptly abandons him again as soon as Saoirse arrives. she is the one who will fix everything after all, so he isn't going to further muddle things by getting in the way.

he hangs back a step, hovering and fretting while his mother-figure takes over... and he only moves from that nervous place when she slides words in his direction again. like a cold, keen little scalpel. it makes him flinch, slinking back another step along the wall.

it's not the first time he's heard those words. and so, with something in his chest hurting in a way that he'd forgotten it could, he nods.]

[it will suffice. she looks back down at her other son, bleeding out on the ground, but has one more thing to say.]

In repentance, if I should fail to keep myself... I want you to kill me.

[dead serious, of course. she kneels in front of Zhas, waiting to hear whether or not Coil can handle the task.]

Do not wait. Do you swear to this?

[Coil might have remained standing there dumbly, stunned, if it weren't for the sheer amount of urgency and threat strung tight in the air. the disbelief can only shield him for a second. with Zhas' life dripping onto the floor, he can't afford to pretend that maybe his beloved, addled mother doesn't know what she's saying.

no... she's speaking plainly, and she's expecting an answer.

unfortunately, all he can do in his horror is to shake his head in a desperate no.]

Coil.

[it's a quiet berating, to be sure. funny, her posture and dead-eyed glance look very similar to Zhas', when he's about to give Coil his second and only other chance.

she doesn't seem to care that her beloved son is losing blood by the second. this one detail is more important.]

[he's more at a loss for words than even his usual handicap makes him, but he's luckily never really needed a more sophisticated form of communication when trying to relay his thoughts to his Queen.

and really, it wouldn't be hard for most people to understand the exact way he cringes inward and slinks toward her, silently begging her not to make him to agree to something like that. he understands exactly the situation that she is implying, and that instance would mean that he wouldn't be losing only one of the most important things in his world, but both of them.]

[of course, Saoirse might have lost her mind years ago, but she would never let a "son" die right in front of her. after a tense moment of stern, expectant waiting, she gives up on Coil with little more than a small, nearly inaudible huff.]

Very well.

[she turns to Zhas again, delicately pulling the boy's hand away from his neck. blood gushes up in the re-opened wound, but she leans forward and licks delicately at the skin around it. her cheeks split along an invisible seam. her tongue is long and serpentine. she is in control and barely gets close to him by vampire standards--but her pretty face now reflects a bit of the creature that shouldn't be allowed to have any human blood.]

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Goodnight // AU

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