(no subject)

[theguidinghand]

CHARACTERS: "Todd"/Guide, James T. Kirk, and all volunteers
LOCATION: Medical Bay
WARNINGS: Extensive description of the Wraith feeding process, and internalized self-loathing. Possible profanity.
SUMMARY: You can never win, you can only break even. With a Wraith, you can't break even - even if you are one.


He's growing used to the fire in his bones, and the thought disgusts him more than he would dare to admit. This repetition of siphoning off a bit of life and then slowly starving again is not the way of a Queen's man. It is short-sighted - but the kine are a short-lived species, as it should only be that they cannot imagine so far into the future. Yet he has agreed to this deal, and their short-sightedness is his own. It will not be long before he starves again, and then more humans will have to sacrifice themselves to him. So this vicious cycle will begin anew.

He kneads the dark vein that winds itself abound his wrist so that it does not swell with enzyme, but he closes his fist as he does so. He can grow used to the fire in his bones, but never shall he look upon a hungry hand without shame.

Guide waits in the medical bay, squinting at the too-bright lights. When he has the strength to do so, he stands; when he hasn't, he rests, sitting as regally as one can in torn leathers.

Comments

open to your mom

[entrapments]

She isn't sure what brings her here, to be honest. Hayley is a creature of self-preservation and little else. Fractions of an identity she is disinterested in investigating. It might be the ship, the months she's spent aboard, hearing the same song and dance over and over again. Maybe she's desensitized. She has a plan for making it to eighteen, but not much else- and even that's been entirely upended in her arrival here.

Her feet shuffle to a halt just inside the door, and Hayley's gaze sweeps the interior. A careful analysis in the guise of uncertainty, an appropriate amount of concern.

Maybe it's a combination of those things, and maybe the rest is the man himself. If he could be called that at all. He certainly hasn't made an effort to disguise himself, or his nature. Her fingertips slide down the cool metal of the entrance way before falling limp at her side. She's seen her share of cowards.

"I take it I'm in the right place?"

[theguidinghand]

Guide eyes the girl critically, and to his credit, he does not groan. Were this Pegasus, he'd have considered her unfortunate by-catch, a creature to be turned over to human servants so that she could be re-introduced into a stable population. She's young, far too young to bear children; far too young to be a sustainable meal. He tries not to cringe at the thought. However wasteful their feeding methods in Pegasus are, they do not sink so low as to sip from young human females lest the herd be unable to recover.

Yet he cannot turn her away. He's grown far too weak to reject any sort of nourishment, however much he'd rather kick himself.

He answers her question with a slow nod, then gestures to one of the empty beds. "The process is painful beyond all that you have ever known. If you are truly prepared, lie down there."

[entrapments]

"You've obviously never been to a Britney Spears concert."

It's reads like false bravado, and part of it is, but Hayley isn't nearly so naive as her image would lend to believe. She's giving up her life force or whatever. She's not expecting Disneyland. But she does give pause when he gestures towards the bed. The edge of her mouth tightens, nigh imperceptible even for the sterile light of the medical bay, but she moves a moment later. She doesn't know how this is supposed to play out, and when she takes a seat, the image of her feet dangling from the edge of the platform is equal parts dark comedy and pitiable horror.

But her gaze moves up to his face, even as she eases her weight back onto the bed. Recalls that the last time she had laid here, she'd been dying. "What's it like for you," her voice travels between them. Clinical curiosity and the contrast of her dark hair against the table. "When you do this?"

legolas, frodo, todd?

[tofindthesun]

Elves are seldom known for punctuality, being a race that seems to defy the effects of time. But time passes on this vessel, whether thee notice it or not. And with that time goes the health of a passenger. He says he is a predator, and that he is hunted. Perhaps he is; but what is a predator but a survivor? What are they all if not survivors?

Maybe he just enjoyed listening the exchange between the predator and Miles Edgeworth. Or maybe it is simply curiosity. Or respect for one who would ask for aid, grudgingly or not.

Whatever the reason, he is here now, lingering outside the door of the medical bay with Frodo for a moment. He's tried to convince the Hobbit to stay behind, but of course he would have none of it. And short of forcing the little one into a closet, there wasn't much Legolas could do about it.

Give spares another glance at Frodo, a soft smile, before moving to open the door and enter the medical bay silently, barefoot as always.

[ringbearer]

He doesn't like this. He made that clear from the way he'd grown a bit tenser while in Legolas' company. Any wraith was hardly good. Thinking of it seemed to bring pain to the wound in his shoulder, never fully healed. Yet he says little of it, only walks quietly beside him. He's here perhaps because Legolas is his friend and even in his weakness he would not let him be alone.

Elvenkind he may be, he remains his friend and just as Frodo willingly chose the path of danger, so did Legolas pledge his bow. It is the very least he can do to accompany him with his strange..interests.

[theguidinghand]

Grimly, he thinks to himself that the two are the most familiar and the least familiar creatures he's yet seen. The tall one, the one with the pointed ears - one of the few men aboard who wears his hair as a man should. The timid one, on the other hand... Guide sincerely hopes that he is not one of the volunteers. Feeding upon the girl was difficult enough. This small - human? - creature would likely not give him half a sip before he would have to withdraw.

With a little more ease and strength than before, he unfolds himself to greet the pair. He inclines his head toward Legolas, and then further to Frodo, before looking back at the elf. "You understand what you have come here for, yes?"

completely open ( because i forgot to add that orz )

[gothchicklit]

October wasn't exactly thrilled to be here - the experience was unpleasant, to put it mildly - but she helped the guy before. And if it meant keeping him alive and keeping some kind of peace (because who knows what he'd do if he was denied this), she figured she could handle it again. It's not like she had anything better to do, anyways.

She wanders into med bay quietly, hands stuffed in the back pockets of her jeans, and makes sure to stay out of the way until it's her turn.

[theguidinghand]

Two for two, and he can already feel his strength returning. As the fires of hunger begin to ease, his mind grows clearer and his memory sharper. He recalls the human woman who tries to keep clear, though he cannot help but feel a tinge of surprise. After experiencing the pain of feeding once, he expects that most humans will avoid volunteering a second time.

When he is ready to take a third, he beckons her to come over.

[gothchicklit]

Most humans probably would, but since this place is October's second chance at life, she figures she can try to give back somehow. And if keeping this really weird looking guy alive and thus the rest of the passengers safe, she can do that. It might also be that the pain helps her know for certain that she's alive here, that she's not stuck in some twisted purgatory, waiting for her final judgement.

She pulls her hands out of her pocket as she walks over to him, the only sign of her nerves the slight quirk of her eyebrow. "Do I get cookies this time, when you're done?" It's nothing like giving blood, but she can still joke if she wants.

open to all you bitches

[goldshirt]

Kirk is present because he can't not be here. If given the option, he would gladly continue donating to this cause, but he has the physical evidence proving how much he can't without putting himself at detriment. The glimmer of silver at his temple, soft and barely there, is a constant reminder to him that his life span has been irrevocably shortened. Which is why he's keeping fresh track of people who have signed up as donors.

Nobody else is going to be hurt the same way he let himself be. Systematically killing other people on this ship, regardless of the cause, isn't something he can condone. If, in the end, he needs to make a choice, he knows he'll have to cut Nick off, because Nick is only one person, and it isn't worth the lives of god only knows how many others. Kirk sincerely hopes it won't come down to that, because loathe as he is to admit it, Nick (or is it Todd?) has experience they're going to need.

Especially with a sentient ship.

Still, his mouth is set in a firm line as he oversees the process, and you can bet he'll check on every single person after they've done their part.

[darkholme]

Incidentally, the donation process isn't any easier the second time. It's just as scary, just as overwhelming, just as tiring... She doesn't immediately feel sick like she did the first time, at least, but that just leads her to believe that she was only sick the first time from nerves. She's a little pale, and everything aches, but her stomach isn't rebelling like last time. So that's good, right? Means it won't be as gross tomorrow, and it won't matter that Erik isn't there to help her through it again. Hn.

Raven's up on her feet a few minutes sooner than she likely should be, just because she needs to get away from the line of donors, out of that bed, make it easier to pull away from the situation. It helps that there are mostly different faces than the last time, but then... not really. Because it just reminds her that those people might not even be here anymore. She zips up her jumpsuit all the way, covers up the small bandage that's covering up the marks. Flexes her hands open and closed at her sides, like getting her circulation going will make her feel less tired, cold. She's not sick, no, but this is awful. Not being at her top condition is enough to make her feel weak, and unprepared, and a little bit scared.

But then she sees Jim. So.

Okay, maybe not as scared.

Luckily, there's a chair not to far from where he's standing. It's just as uncomfortable as every other piece of furniture in the medbay, but she's making it her new favorite chair for a while. She sits sideways on it, facing him, her head resting against the wall.

"Hey there, silverfox." Bad joke? Bad joke. She'll smile anyway, like the situation isn't really freaking grim. "You know, I thought I noticed the-" just gesturing with her fingers at her own temple. "-on the comm, but it looks even better in person."

[goldshirt]

He wants to go to her, which in itself is a strange feeling. Help her to her feet and wrap her in the blanket the doctors provide (to stop them from going into shock). It isn't his job, though, so he doesn't- or at least, he doesn't until she comes and sits next to him. Then he grabs a blanket and wraps it around her shoulders anyway, before stepping back out of her personal space.

The look he gives her is amused, but wry. "You don't think it makes me look old?"

sits here

[leaps]

They're all working themselves too hard. That's part of the problem, Sulu thinks. Too few people who know what they're doing, and far too much to get done, and Sulu runs himself ragged but Kirk takes that to a whole new level. There's a streak of grey in his hair that Sulu can't miss. and it freaks him the fuck out, but saying that would be a dick move so he just hovers in Kirk's general area, like just Sulu's presence can ease things.

It's probably not helpful. Sulu's aware of this.

But at least he's on hand in the event Kirk throws all self-preservation to the wind and lets this thing latch onto him again. Sulu's got his katana in his boot. He'll take court martial and the brig if necessary. Yes, that's overdramatic, but he thinks he's allowed to be at this stage in the game.

[goldshirt]

Funnily enough, it does help. Maybe because Kirk has been here a long time, nearly a year, and for most of that year he'd been on his own. Had dealt with this on his own; shit that he never should have come across. Moral issues that should never have been up for debate.

It would've been so much easier if, like McKay, they'd been at war with one another. At least then the lines would be clearer.

He doesn't miss the way Sulu looks at that shock of grey, but since he doesn't bring it up, neither does Kirk. He folds his arms over his chest as Nick goes on to the next person, and a lesser man might look away, but Jim doesn't, like by watching, he can shoulder the burden of what's happening.

Of what he's convincing people to do.

gave those bitches an open thread, bitches love open threads

[tofindthesun]

He makes his way towards Kirk silently after entering with Frodo, after making sure the Captain is currently not entertaining company. If he's managed to slip away from his companion, he won't be alone for long. He isn't concerned, though; he'll be nearby if Frodo comes looking. He has yet to meet this Captain in person, so he will do so now, even if it is not, perhaps, the best time for it.

There is age in the sliver of gray in Kirk's hair, in the slight lines on his face, but not in his eyes. Legolas doesn't make a show of inspecting him, but his eyes do stray to Kirk's temple for a moment longer than necessary as he pads over. The aging of Men has always been somewhat.. fascinating. Strange, but fascinating.

"..A gift from a passenger?"

tmw kirk thinks ur pretty legos

[goldshirt]

Kirk looks up, and just like seeing Arwen for the first time, he's a little thrown by the way Legolas looks in person. At first glance, he might equate him to being Vulcan, but there is something much more ethereal about him that doesn't match up to any race Kirk has learned of. Elves are a beautiful race, and regardless of how he'd read about it in Tolkein's novels, it's utterly different witnessing it in person.

"Sorry?" He asks, because out of context, Jim isn't sure what Legolas is referring to. Though, he might have been slightly distracted with the elf's approach.

[theguidinghand]

When the volunteers have been tended to and the medical bay is cleared of all other persons, Guide will approach Kirk. The human has given too much of himself for this, and... he is loath to think it, but he does feel some gratitude toward him. This arrangement is far from ideal, and it has many flaws to fix, but it would have been impossible to make otherwise. But more impossible still is its sustainability. Each time he draws life from humans and allows them to live on, the chances of getting fresh ones to surrender some life dwindles. It will not be long before he will be forced to starve, and he knows it.

Yet for a few moments, he can pretend that there's no such grim future. That which ails him has been put off for a time, and he can be the guardian of his herd that he was meant to be.

[goldshirt]

It takes some convincing, but after firmly convincing Sulu that he'll join him momentarily (Yes, I'll be right there, stop mothering me, I'm not about to compromise myself so you can kick my ass. I'm coming, I promise, now go.), Kirk lingers just a bit longer in medical, because he knows he'll be approached. Not because it's expected, or that they need to have an exchange, but more because it's a feeling Jim has, A gut instinct.

His attention comes around to Nick (Todd? if they guy just wasn't so damn difficult about names-) as he's approached, and just at a glance he can tell he's a little better. It's a bare minimum, the smallest of rations to a starving man, and Jim's mouth presses into a displeased line, his hands coming to rest on his hips.

[altercate]

The sharp, sterile smell of the medical bay is unwelcome, as is the alien scent of...he can only assume that's the creature that's going to be sinking teeth into him, because that's like nothing he's ever smelt before. He's frowning, but that can't be helped. He's on edge, more than he'd admit, but he doesn't turn on his heel and leave.

The problem with Derek is the part of him that's all too prone to self-sacrifice. He has a pack to look after, a semi-crazed uncle to wrangle, but he's here because he knows that whatever this creature takes from him, he can heal from it faster than most. Better he be weakened and uncomfortable for a day or so than someone less durable than he take a turn under these lights.

He doesn't say anything. Derek isn't talkative at the best of times, and even less so in moments like this. He just levels a hard-faced stare at the creature, deliberately uncrossing his arms. It's an invitation, as much as he's able to give.

[theguidinghand]

Guide meets the human's stare with one of his own, taking the challenge squarely. With his renewed strength, he walks up to Derek purposefully. He keeps his eyes locked upon Derek's the entire time, as much threat as acknowledgement. I am not to be trifled with.

He has regained enough sense to hold his tongue instead of speaking the threat aloud. "You are absolutely certain that you are prepared?" he asks instead.

ota

[chiroptophobic]

Under the hum of the sharp, clinical light, the places where the darkness should dip and cling to his armor seemed matt, the expensive textiles that make up the outfit only exotic, not crafted as though from the night itself. The Batman looked out of place in the bright corridors of the ship. For almost two days, he had wondered whether to wear the cape and cowl aboard the Tranquility at all, but there were times when it was needed, and perhaps the ship itself had forseen them before him.

As Bruce Wayne he couldn't make this sacrifice, but he had to know, had to satisfy himself that it wasn't the mistake the dissenters said it was. James Kirk's support had been one thing, but it had been the creature's words and then his own presentation on the network which had convinced him. Witnessing his hunger, Bruce had remembered his own. He remembered stealing to live, to survive, remembered how it felt and thought he could see it in the dark hollows where eyes should be.

He appeared without word, without warning, not even the sound of a heel on the ground, dressed to be imposing while the real predator was almost too frail to stand. It was difficult to see without feeling some kind of pity, and yet the same people who fed their dogs and cats on board barely seemed to recognise that one plight was not much different to another. For predators, another creature had to die so that another could live.

He moved closer, not speaking, standing on a ceremony of patience as the outsider, knowing this had all been done before and waiting to be initiated.

[goldshirt]

Kirk was used to seeing the strange and bizarre on the Tranquility. After meeting Sherlock Holmes, he'd geared himself up to see potentially fictional characters (since he, himself, was apparently one) or historical figures on board. But when he catches the ink dark figure out of the corner of his eye, he still does a doubletake.

Jim would be the first to admit that he had a fondness for old literature, and though he'd had his nose buried in works like Don Quixote when others were interested in comic books, even he could tell who this guy was. And okay, he'd met Robin. Hell, he'd worked with the kid during that whole fear gas problem. This shouldn't be that unusual. Masks weren't unheard of on the Tranquility.

But this man cut an impressive figure, and Kirk was so thrown by literally seeing Batman standing in medical, that he couldn't help but stare.

[theguidinghand]

He watches the armored human enter the medical bay with enviable silence, and he cannot help but smile. The anonymous donor had spoken of wearing a mask to inspire fear, and here he was. He allows himself a low chuckle, a small indulgence for all the hunger he has endured until now. "I did not think that such a mask was meant to be literal," he says, grinning wolfishly.

"But this armor presents a problem," he says, his expression sobering. He points to the human's breastplate with his off hand, inspecting the material as he does. Whatever material the armor was crafted from, it was far too thick for his barbs to sink through. "If you wish to make good upon your offer, you will have to remove it."

ota

[backwardscompatible]

As she strode towards the medical bay, River enjoyed a pleasant buzz of anticipation. She was quite prepared to handle physical discomfort and in any case it was a small price to pay to experience something new and helping someone out into the bargain. She'd been wracking her brains for species that needed to feed on sentient beings. After discarding some possibilities (the apparent lack of a limit on species that could be fed on ruled out quite a few) she'd come up with a short list of guesses as to the identity of her soon-to-be-beneficiary. And of course she was extremely curious to see what sort of people her fellow donors would turn out to be.

Arriving at her destination, she took in the somber atmosphere. Was anyone else at all happy to be there? It was easy to guess the one who was going to be doing the feeding (not a species she'd seen before, how interesting), and even he looked like he'd rather be elsewhere. Then again, it seemed like most of those aboard the ship weren't used to dealing with non-humans, so maybe they'd been less than understanding of his needs. In any case she judged it best that she dial down on her eagerness a little as she approached him and waited for what might be a good time to introduce herself.

[theguidinghand]

In all his years, Guide has been at the receiving end of a spectrum of human emotions when his prey realize their fates. Some despair, some fear. Some resign themselves to their fate, while others fight back until the pain becomes overwhelming.

None, however, have been nearly as cheerful as this one. Even here on the Tranquility where Wraith are relatively unknown, the humans who give to him primarily dread the entire process. He eyes her as she enters and prepares, and even when she restrains herself, she still looks far more enthused than anything in the medical bay.

When it is her turn, he gestures for her to come over, head tipped slightly to one side in question. "You do understand that this is not a painless thing, yes?"