otrazhenie | Station 72 >> Mental Link

[ Elena assumes the best of people, she always has, and so she doesn't think for a moment that Gildor is continuing to mock her with the song. It's a strange facet to her broodmate, that element of who he is, but she's growing accustomed to it already. ]

( Sam is letting me feed from him sometimes. )

[ She stops herself from showing Sam to him, from letting anything else rise up to the surface of her mind. There's one tiny success, at least. ]

(I will have to thank him whenever he makes himself known to me.)

[ And if he doesn't, send flowers or a fruit basket. Gildor hates the smell of blood, so he's glad to know someone else has already taken up the job. Just the thought of it now makes his skin crawl - a thought he regrettably cannot fully withhold from Elena, but it's the truth. The rancid, metallic scent still effects him even after all the work he's done as a healer. It's the part of acting as a bard he's always struggled with most.

But still, the new little bugger in his brain implores him to find ways to help his brood. The symbiote's opinion aside, what sort of bard is he if he cannot support the group? ]

(Can you feed from anyone who is... ah... not fully human? I ask because I am only half. )

[ He is aware his genealogy is probably not apparent with the disguise on. It's difficult, but he is offering himself as a source of blood well. Lakshmi will be mad, but he has a feeling she's always a bit mad. ]

Edited 2017-08-30 09:07 (UTC)

[ A feeling of affection, toward both Gildor and Sam, rises up at the comment about thanking him. Sam's a good guy, a really good guy, and she still can't believe sometimes that he's doing all he is for her. It just seems like too much, even though she knows she would do the same for someone else in his place.

When she catches wind of how her broodmate feels about the scent of blood, her heart sinks. How unfortunate it is for him to be tied to her - a vampire who dreams of blood, who craves it every waking second, who even now can smell it rushing beneath his skin. She stuffs all of that down where he hopefully won't share the experience, or where it will at least be muffled rather than hitting him full-force.

And yet, despite how affected he is by blood, he offers her his. It makes her want to hug him, honestly, and there's a swell of gratitude toward him. ]

( We're able to drink from animals and stay healthy, but I've never tried feeding on someone who isn't fully human, so I'm not sure. I hope that I never have to find out, though. )

[ She's not going to take him up on that offer unless she absolutely has to, but she still appreciates that he made the offer at all. ]

[ The two of them are fighting to keep the other from being too insulted by things neither can control. Rather than become embarrassed or holding it back anymore, Gildor laughs. There's just something funny about their predicament, the irony in it, and how both of them are trying to go about doing the right thing despite themselves. ]

(Well, just in case, you can come to me. I have some healing abilities, and, well... I've been a bard for roughly a century. Healing was never my strongest subject, but it's about time I got over the smell.)

[ He can't promise to be delicious, or not become nauseated, but at least he can heal whatever wound she makes. Lakshmi won't even see the bite marks. ]

[ His laugh is contagious, and when she starts up too, even quietly, it feels good. After the stress of the past week, it feels really good, and she's grateful to him for that too. It's this moment when Elena decides she likes Gildor, and that she's truly grateful to have him as part of their messed up little brood. ]

( Thank you, Gil. That means a lot to me. )

[ His laugh fades naturally, but somewhere deep in the darkness of his mind a chord is struck. Not suddenly or sharply, but it resonates within him like a deep bass. ]

(No one's called me that in-)

[ He tries to recall, but sorting his memories of that time are muddled and confusing. Trying to count the years that have passed is like counting grains of sand slipping between open fingers. If anything, he doesn't seem upset. Just nostalgic for something he decides is better left buried in the dark. ]

(I prefer Mr. Helyanwe, but... I could get used to Gil again.)

[ For her. He was just saying it was about time he get over his aversion to blood - he may as well get over the custom formalities of names he's so used to. Hardly any of the hosts seem to use them.

His thoughts settle back to the song he'd been playing in the back of his mind. He pauses where he walks, and tries holding a hand out for her again. ]

(Would you mind showing me the way back to the tents, Miss Gilbert?)

[ It's so much more endearing than she would have thought it'd be that he's willing to let her slip under that barrier of proper names and politeness. She could have called him Mr. Helyanwe, easily, but it'll be so much more personal to include him in the circle of people she calls by shortened versions of their names. Her family, friends, and now a broodmate. ]

( Of course, I'd be delighted. )

[ And she reaches out to take his hand, guiding it up to her arm so they could walk side-by-side like friends, which she hopes they'll become. ]

COMPASSION never lose it	GRIEF
BLOOD	KATHERINE i look like her

Station 72 >> Mental Link

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