Post by skyeknight on May 24, 2018 15:47:05 GMT
Vanitas sighed. As much as Moses wanted to fix the mess that Vanitas had made, the Halfling was running himself ragged doing it. Vanitas was going to have to fix this on his own. He couldn’t keep living in the basement of an abandoned house for the rest of his life. He hadn’t even seen sunlight in months. It was almost as bad as prison itself, despite Moses’ attempts to make it as comfortable as possible. Vanitas simply wasn’t a creature meant for waiting, that didn’t mean he was going to do something brash in front of Moses. He bided his time – impatiently – until Moses went out to go to work.
He pulled out his backpack, still amazed that Moses hadn’t found it yet. Inside, tucked away, was Vanitas’ syringe of Sapien. Pure, street illegal, Sapien, pre-Grey Dawn. From the labs where it was made – the lab that had tested it on him. Naturally Vanitas had reservations about using it again but what else was he to do? Pitch said no to helping them – or more rather helping Moses. Though he recommended going through a legal route and having Elsa Crispin help them. That was a laugh. She was probably one of the people who helped put Vanitas behind bars in the first place.
He sighed before going through the practiced movements of giving himself an injection. Not his first encounter with drugs, likely not to be his last. He paused when holding the needle to his skin. He was going to do this. He was really going to go through this again. For Moses. He grit his teeth together before all but jabbing the needle into the appropriate vein. Just as he was about to have a second though, he pressed on the plunger, sending raw Sapien into his blood stream.
At first, it felt like it was warm beneath his skin, but soon, an all-consuming fire seemed to eat at his very body. He gasped, ripping the syringe out of his skin. No going back now. He had already committed to this. He fought to keep his labored breaths even and steady. The serum assaulted his senses, ravaged his body and attacked his mind. You deserve this, a vindictive voice whispered in the back of his mind. You make so many people suffer just by existing.
He trembled. The feelings. Things he tried to keep locked away and ignore. He lived his life only focusing only on strong things. He had anger that could push him through any bad situation. His hatred gave him motive to keep going. A need for revenge on the city that hated Others to give him purpose. But things he tried to stifle, choke off, were pushing their way into his weak heart.
Guilt. He had killed those people. All of those people. People who had mothers and fathers just like him, with sisters or brothers or cousins and family. He would have killed so many more if he hadn’t been caught. He would have done it too – without any remorse. At this point, the faces of his victims blurred. Were they even victims? He had thought them all just as guilty as he was.
For what? Because the city took the only family and loved ones he had? After the war he had been a little snot nosed brat, begging for coins on a street corner because he had no one to look out for him. Because he was angry that he had no one in his life? People passed by him, scoffed at him, belittled him when he tried to improve his own living conditions. They laughed when he tried to do better for himself before knocking him back down in the dirt. Because when he needed someone the most, thought he had found people who cared for him, it was yanked away by the humans testing the Sapien on Others that no one would miss? He had been whisked away to the labs, by humans pretending to be kind only to be an experiment for years until he broke out and killed them all.
He was envious. He wanted family – a sense of belonging. Time and time again, the world proved they wanted nothing to do with a demon. All because of what he was. They didn’t even get to know him! All they saw was his dark appearance and unearthly eyes before declaring him a monster. When he had been a child, he had tried to fight that. But after some time, he decided that if they were only ever going to see a monster, he might as well as act like the monster they thought he was.
All of his hurts and pains became apathy overtime, but the Sapien in his system was forcing him to feel all of this at once. He placed a hand to his chest, feeling like his heart was going to explode. It was too much at once, he couldn’t breathe. Was this was that half-troll had called a panic attack when the blonde he had kidnapped started to hyperventilate? He tried to go towards the dusty mattress but legs were weak. He collapsed halfway there, falling to the floor with a thud. The syringe rolled out of his hand, skittering across the floor. He watched it.
Shuddering breaths left him, tearing out of him like sobs. His face was damp. Why was it damp? Was he dying? A burst of chilling fear filled him. He couldn’t die. He was a demon. It took more than an injection to kill him. Unless there was emerald in the serum. No. There wasn’t. He checked. He made sure! There couldn’t be emerald inside the liquid in his veins, right? This time a true sob left him for real.
He curled in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible to slow this physical agony that was taking over his body. At least if he died Moses wouldn’t be troubled by him anymore. He closed his eyes, willing this torture away. Stop feeling. Stop hurting. No more, please no more. It became his mantra, though he was uncertain if he were saying it aloud or thinking it. He willed himself further and further away, drifting into a tormented sleep.
"What the fuck did you take?"
Vanitas looked up blearily, his mind dazed and clouded from his forced nap. His eyes ached fiercely. They felt puffy and dry. No amount of blinking was making this any easier to look up at Moses. He had to squint since the light hurt his eyes. Standing over him was a fuming Moses. A bag of food had been dropped to the ground. In Moses’ hand was the syringe that Vanitas had dropped earlier. At first Vanitas was confused, but his actions rushed back to him rather quickly. Vanitas opened his mouth but closed it.
"What the fuck did you take?" Moses snarled once again.
Moses seized the front of Vanitas’ shirt, shaking him harshly. Vanitas flinched as if stricken. Some part of him tried to reason that this was Moses. That Moses would never hurt him. But the part of him awakened by the Sapien, filled with all the fears he had choked down since childhood whispered that there was no real way for Vanitas to know for sure. He couldn’t look Moses in the eye, as if afraid of what he would see there. He had screwed up again. Disappointed Moses again.
"What were you thinking? I thought I lost you!"
"I’m sorry!" Vanitas choked out.
Moses’ grip on his shirt tightened. An odd expression crossed his face, one Vanitas recognized as shock. Vantias didn’t apologize. When he did it was bitter, sarcastic and hardly intended as heartfelt. But this one, Vanitas truly was sorry for. He hadn’t expected to have such a reaction to Sapien. He hadn’t had it forced on him since he was a kid. This left him feeling rather raw and vulnerable. His head throbbed and he could feel his dry eyes trying to water again. It only made his eyes burn.
"What?"
"I’m sorry!" he repeated, feeling the raw overwhelming emotions all trying to voice themselves at once. "I wasn’t thinking… I’m sorry…"
Moses knelt down next to him. For that Vanitas was grateful, he no longer had to crane his neck and look up at the light. Moses carded a hand through his hair. Vanitas closed his eyes, relishing the feeling and leaning into Moses’ touch. He always acted like the tough guy when he wasn’t on Sapien but he desperately wanted some form of human contact. Any attention was good attention in his books because it proved he was still there… Still alive. Still existing. He was real when people paid attention to him.
"What did you take?" Moses asked, gently this time.
"Sapien…"
Something flickered through Moses’ eyes. Something satisfied and dark. Moses smoothed his hand over Vanitas’ head again as a smirk crossed his features. Vanitas didn’t know if he should be concerned or not. This was Moses. He wouldn’t do anything. That was until the hand in his hair suddenly yanked his head back and Moses was looming over him. Vanitas knew that look. Moses liked it when he was submissive, when he swallowed his pride and allowed himself to be weak in front of him. However this time, there was no acting. These were true and raw feelings that Vanitas truly had.
A whimper that he couldn’t stop echoed through the room. For a few seconds, Moses’ eyes flickered black. Vanitas was completely under his thumb at that moment and he knew it. Already he had plotted how to best use this to his advantage. To make the most of the limited time that Vanitas had Sapien in his veins. Moses could get Vanitas to open up in ways he normally didn't. Since he was compelled by the Sapien and running on feelings that were all but frying his brain. Vanitas tried to shift his position to get comfortable, but being on the ground wasn’t ideal.
"What do you feel right now?" he asked.
"I don’t know… It’s too much…" Vanitas whined helplessly.
"Let’s work on that."
If Vanitas had been overwhelmed before, he had been completely overtaken by the emotions as Moses strung him along for the rest of the night. At first, it was innocent. A kiss here, cuddling for an hour or so, coaxing him to eat the food they had forgotten about when Moses thought Vanitas had poisoned himself. Then things started to take a turn for not so innocent. A hand placed here or a caress there, until it was almost like some form of torture.
Moses took his time with Vanitas. Like he was sampling a dish he wanted to savor. Because Vanitas’ pride was no longer a problem, Vanitas sang Moses’ praise to high heaven and cursed him to the depths of Hell. I love you, became a mantra that spilled off his lips just as often. And Vanitas gave that answer very quickly the moment Moses had asked. One that he wouldn't normally say without Sapien influencing his thoughts and weakening the wall he kept up to keep others out. Vanitas thrived off the attention. He knew this would come back to bite him later, when he wasn’t on Sapien, but with reactions like this, he considered staying on it. For once he felt warm, something he hadn’t recalled since childhood. Warm and safe and loved.
He pulled out his backpack, still amazed that Moses hadn’t found it yet. Inside, tucked away, was Vanitas’ syringe of Sapien. Pure, street illegal, Sapien, pre-Grey Dawn. From the labs where it was made – the lab that had tested it on him. Naturally Vanitas had reservations about using it again but what else was he to do? Pitch said no to helping them – or more rather helping Moses. Though he recommended going through a legal route and having Elsa Crispin help them. That was a laugh. She was probably one of the people who helped put Vanitas behind bars in the first place.
He sighed before going through the practiced movements of giving himself an injection. Not his first encounter with drugs, likely not to be his last. He paused when holding the needle to his skin. He was going to do this. He was really going to go through this again. For Moses. He grit his teeth together before all but jabbing the needle into the appropriate vein. Just as he was about to have a second though, he pressed on the plunger, sending raw Sapien into his blood stream.
At first, it felt like it was warm beneath his skin, but soon, an all-consuming fire seemed to eat at his very body. He gasped, ripping the syringe out of his skin. No going back now. He had already committed to this. He fought to keep his labored breaths even and steady. The serum assaulted his senses, ravaged his body and attacked his mind. You deserve this, a vindictive voice whispered in the back of his mind. You make so many people suffer just by existing.
He trembled. The feelings. Things he tried to keep locked away and ignore. He lived his life only focusing only on strong things. He had anger that could push him through any bad situation. His hatred gave him motive to keep going. A need for revenge on the city that hated Others to give him purpose. But things he tried to stifle, choke off, were pushing their way into his weak heart.
Guilt. He had killed those people. All of those people. People who had mothers and fathers just like him, with sisters or brothers or cousins and family. He would have killed so many more if he hadn’t been caught. He would have done it too – without any remorse. At this point, the faces of his victims blurred. Were they even victims? He had thought them all just as guilty as he was.
For what? Because the city took the only family and loved ones he had? After the war he had been a little snot nosed brat, begging for coins on a street corner because he had no one to look out for him. Because he was angry that he had no one in his life? People passed by him, scoffed at him, belittled him when he tried to improve his own living conditions. They laughed when he tried to do better for himself before knocking him back down in the dirt. Because when he needed someone the most, thought he had found people who cared for him, it was yanked away by the humans testing the Sapien on Others that no one would miss? He had been whisked away to the labs, by humans pretending to be kind only to be an experiment for years until he broke out and killed them all.
He was envious. He wanted family – a sense of belonging. Time and time again, the world proved they wanted nothing to do with a demon. All because of what he was. They didn’t even get to know him! All they saw was his dark appearance and unearthly eyes before declaring him a monster. When he had been a child, he had tried to fight that. But after some time, he decided that if they were only ever going to see a monster, he might as well as act like the monster they thought he was.
All of his hurts and pains became apathy overtime, but the Sapien in his system was forcing him to feel all of this at once. He placed a hand to his chest, feeling like his heart was going to explode. It was too much at once, he couldn’t breathe. Was this was that half-troll had called a panic attack when the blonde he had kidnapped started to hyperventilate? He tried to go towards the dusty mattress but legs were weak. He collapsed halfway there, falling to the floor with a thud. The syringe rolled out of his hand, skittering across the floor. He watched it.
Shuddering breaths left him, tearing out of him like sobs. His face was damp. Why was it damp? Was he dying? A burst of chilling fear filled him. He couldn’t die. He was a demon. It took more than an injection to kill him. Unless there was emerald in the serum. No. There wasn’t. He checked. He made sure! There couldn’t be emerald inside the liquid in his veins, right? This time a true sob left him for real.
He curled in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible to slow this physical agony that was taking over his body. At least if he died Moses wouldn’t be troubled by him anymore. He closed his eyes, willing this torture away. Stop feeling. Stop hurting. No more, please no more. It became his mantra, though he was uncertain if he were saying it aloud or thinking it. He willed himself further and further away, drifting into a tormented sleep.
"What the fuck did you take?"
Vanitas looked up blearily, his mind dazed and clouded from his forced nap. His eyes ached fiercely. They felt puffy and dry. No amount of blinking was making this any easier to look up at Moses. He had to squint since the light hurt his eyes. Standing over him was a fuming Moses. A bag of food had been dropped to the ground. In Moses’ hand was the syringe that Vanitas had dropped earlier. At first Vanitas was confused, but his actions rushed back to him rather quickly. Vanitas opened his mouth but closed it.
"What the fuck did you take?" Moses snarled once again.
Moses seized the front of Vanitas’ shirt, shaking him harshly. Vanitas flinched as if stricken. Some part of him tried to reason that this was Moses. That Moses would never hurt him. But the part of him awakened by the Sapien, filled with all the fears he had choked down since childhood whispered that there was no real way for Vanitas to know for sure. He couldn’t look Moses in the eye, as if afraid of what he would see there. He had screwed up again. Disappointed Moses again.
"What were you thinking? I thought I lost you!"
"I’m sorry!" Vanitas choked out.
Moses’ grip on his shirt tightened. An odd expression crossed his face, one Vanitas recognized as shock. Vantias didn’t apologize. When he did it was bitter, sarcastic and hardly intended as heartfelt. But this one, Vanitas truly was sorry for. He hadn’t expected to have such a reaction to Sapien. He hadn’t had it forced on him since he was a kid. This left him feeling rather raw and vulnerable. His head throbbed and he could feel his dry eyes trying to water again. It only made his eyes burn.
"What?"
"I’m sorry!" he repeated, feeling the raw overwhelming emotions all trying to voice themselves at once. "I wasn’t thinking… I’m sorry…"
Moses knelt down next to him. For that Vanitas was grateful, he no longer had to crane his neck and look up at the light. Moses carded a hand through his hair. Vanitas closed his eyes, relishing the feeling and leaning into Moses’ touch. He always acted like the tough guy when he wasn’t on Sapien but he desperately wanted some form of human contact. Any attention was good attention in his books because it proved he was still there… Still alive. Still existing. He was real when people paid attention to him.
"What did you take?" Moses asked, gently this time.
"Sapien…"
Something flickered through Moses’ eyes. Something satisfied and dark. Moses smoothed his hand over Vanitas’ head again as a smirk crossed his features. Vanitas didn’t know if he should be concerned or not. This was Moses. He wouldn’t do anything. That was until the hand in his hair suddenly yanked his head back and Moses was looming over him. Vanitas knew that look. Moses liked it when he was submissive, when he swallowed his pride and allowed himself to be weak in front of him. However this time, there was no acting. These were true and raw feelings that Vanitas truly had.
A whimper that he couldn’t stop echoed through the room. For a few seconds, Moses’ eyes flickered black. Vanitas was completely under his thumb at that moment and he knew it. Already he had plotted how to best use this to his advantage. To make the most of the limited time that Vanitas had Sapien in his veins. Moses could get Vanitas to open up in ways he normally didn't. Since he was compelled by the Sapien and running on feelings that were all but frying his brain. Vanitas tried to shift his position to get comfortable, but being on the ground wasn’t ideal.
"What do you feel right now?" he asked.
"I don’t know… It’s too much…" Vanitas whined helplessly.
"Let’s work on that."
If Vanitas had been overwhelmed before, he had been completely overtaken by the emotions as Moses strung him along for the rest of the night. At first, it was innocent. A kiss here, cuddling for an hour or so, coaxing him to eat the food they had forgotten about when Moses thought Vanitas had poisoned himself. Then things started to take a turn for not so innocent. A hand placed here or a caress there, until it was almost like some form of torture.
Moses took his time with Vanitas. Like he was sampling a dish he wanted to savor. Because Vanitas’ pride was no longer a problem, Vanitas sang Moses’ praise to high heaven and cursed him to the depths of Hell. I love you, became a mantra that spilled off his lips just as often. And Vanitas gave that answer very quickly the moment Moses had asked. One that he wouldn't normally say without Sapien influencing his thoughts and weakening the wall he kept up to keep others out. Vanitas thrived off the attention. He knew this would come back to bite him later, when he wasn’t on Sapien, but with reactions like this, he considered staying on it. For once he felt warm, something he hadn’t recalled since childhood. Warm and safe and loved.