Black and Blue, But Not Quite Over

[Conner Wells]

Maeve looks at him, tells him these dark and scary things she must've held tight to herself for God knows how long. There is a darker part of him that wants to hold that over her; to dare her to call him scared again; to rip and tear and leave her broken and bloody in this wood where nobody would know or care.
But he feels the truth of her words. The bitterness of this hollow life they now lived; the constant pressure to hold back, to act polite, even if it was a facade; the constant fear of living in the shadow of beings who could, in an instant, want you dead even if a moment ago they'd called you "friend". Those soft, piercing blue eyes look him square and ask him the question he dared not ask himself for so many sleepless mornings.
Conner's gaze softens, letting the blue-haired Shadow see a man who had lost so much and was so, so tired of losing. "I'm not sure I want to "get over it". I want to remember what it was like before, when I could look up at the sun without fear it would set me on fire. I want to remember what it was like to...hold someone and not want to murder them simply because I could. I want to rip this damn curse out of my stomach and snap its goddamn neck for taking so much from me!" He catches himself, his voice briefly turning low and feral. Pauses, recomposes. "But if I can't have that; I at least want to walk in the darkness knowing I can be less of a monster than those who led me on this path. That I can turn that rage and carnality into something that protects instead of destroys." He looks to Maeve, wondering if even crocodile tears are possible for Kindred. "I want to know that I'm wanted. That I'm not just a pawn or a soldier or a cold body." He emphasizes those last two words as he takes another step; not a challenge, an invitation. ​"And if that's what you want too, then maybe we can help each other?" There was just enough edge in Conner's voice that hinted at something Bestial behind the soft words. But he would wait; he needed to know that she wanted this too, otherwise...he didn't want to think of the ramifications of that "otherwise".

Empathy reveals frustration, desire, grief, and an undercurrent of lust

[Maeve]

Cold body. That emphasis has so many connotations. Dead, completely bereft of life. Apparently, also dead in personality. That's what happens to you as a vampire. You are beaten into submission in this stupid court until you're just as fucking boring as the rest of them. What the hell is the point of that life? It isn't one. It's boring. I don't want to be boring. I want to fucking live.


And Conner... gets it. He wants what she wants - to not be dead. Maeve accepts what she is, for some time she even embraced and took pride in what she is, but it's everyone else. She's a good fucking person and everyone else is shit, which is scary because when she was human, she considered herself a shit human. One supposes that says everything you need to know about kindred, right?


She's never been in this kind of situation before. Not only being in the presence of someone who thinks like she does, ish. He isn't quite on her level. She doesn't think so at least. But also someone who then wants her? She knows she's got the cute blue hair, but aside from that? Why would you want her when there's all that Daeva going around? She knows that isn't accurate, but- Excuses. She's making excuses and trying to save up every ounce of control she can muster. And yet, what is the point?


And then she's blushing. Death doesn't become her, because when she blushes, she is beautiful in the most human looking way. That hint of pink brings out her eyes, makes her hair pop. Strange what the kiss does to someone and how a little pink changes everything.


However, just that small expenditure of her vitae in itself creates a mad something in her. Want. So much want. She finally does lunge forward, but it isn't so much a lunge as much as it is nearly just falling forward, passionately crashing her lips into his. Her lips are warm and soft and her breath is rhythmic, just like the heart rapidly beating then in her chest. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him tight against her now warm, curvaceous body. Fuck it all, she doesn't care. No, she does. That's just it. For once, she actually wants something. But this is hungry, primal, too primal. Her kiss is hard, needy, near ready to draw blood.

[Conner Wells]

Conner has always been fearfully impressed with the physical power of Kindred in a number of fields, not the least of which was that of reflexes. Even as young as he was, Conner had experienced moments where power had coursed through his veins and seemed to slow the world and its denizens to a crawl while he moved at a casual pace to take what he needed. None of that prepared him for Maeve drifting from her leaning pose against that tree and closing the distance between them.

For the briefest of moments, it's just the two of them alone in that wood. Nobody to see or care but the squirrels and the stars and God above. He sinks into the lips pressing into him, feels the desperate grip that pulls him into black leather and barely contained skin. His own hands move up and down; grazing hips; pressing to cheeks; running through that neon-blue hair that feels so silky smooth and just curly enough to get caught in.

3 successes

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2021-06-16 00:53:25	Conner Wells rolls 5 to Resist Vice (Resolve + Composure) (10 Again)	9, 8, 4, 7, 9	3 successes

But then, something else crashes into him. Air pumping phantom-like into his lungs through that warm conduit that refused to release him. But even more frightening was that sound just beyond human perception, even at this distance: a beating heart. Oh God! She's Blushing? Now? But she's low enough as it is!
Conner pulls herself free of Maeve's lips, but doesn't push her arms away. She was likely in full predator mode now, and he didn't want to provoke her into overexerting himself. So he just holds her face in his hands, firmly but gently, and starts to whisper-shush her. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" Yet again the Beast rumbles at satisfaction denied. But Conner was more than the Beast, and so was Maeve. "I'm so happy you want this too, but not right now, not like this" gently stroking her face "not while you're weakened." He looks her in the eyes, praying to capture her focus for just long enough to listen. "But soon, it'll be my turn out here, and your turn back in Sacramento" he starts stroking her hair with one hand, keeping the other firm on her face "And then it'll be your turn to make things right. You'll have to listen to everything Quinn tells you, and look all those bastards in Elysium in the face and smile and nod and take their bullshit. And you're going to walk out of that lion's den with flying colors. Because when you're out of there, and I'm done with my own high-risk Cup Scout outing..."
Here he takes a risk, accepting the pull towards her lips and leaving a luxurious, cold token of desire. "Then I'm all yours" He kisses her again "However you need me" Again "However you want me" He takes a deliberate moment to press his lips to that spot on her neck that had brought them both so much grief "Even if it takes all morning"
He lets both hands slide to her shoulders, no energy in him for pretense. He doesn't dare Blush, but he tries to smile as warmly as he can. "Can you do that for me? Make it until then?"

[Maeve]

Maeve's grip on Conner is tight and there is a slight tremble to her limps. She's exhausted. Exhausted, but filled with a fake life. Filled with the sensation for a short blissful time of being human once more. She knows it is fake, she knows it won't last, but she can pretend. This is what will become the nature of this relationship in her mind. This is something to forget about being kindred. It is something to remember how to be human again. That's dangerous isn't it? She can feel her beast calling, begging her to act, to rip apart, to be feral as she is meant to be, but she shoves it down as far as she can. I'm not there yet. Fuck off. She can survive. She can beat it. She's done it for almost a decade now, even if most of that was under total surveillance of her sire.


You are a fool, Maeve. You've got to get over it. When are you going to get over it? She hears the echo in her mind again. And then Conner stops kissing her. He pulls his lips away and he is hushing her, whispering lots and lots of words at her. All she can think is the absolute devastation she has that he's sto- not stopped. He gives her delicate kisses in between each sentence, punctuating his point, of which she still hasn't listened.


Why is he talking so much-? It then finally occurs to her just how out of control she actually is. He's telling her to wait and... she's actually kind of appreciative of it. He's not just taking advantage of her. Would she have done the same? She isn't sure. There we go, see, I am a shit person. Why does that make her feel a little better about herself? Maybe because seeing herself as being good makes things a hell of a lot more complicated for everyone.


His hands are on her shoulders and she is letting out a long, slow breath, as if she needed to. She's so hungry, she could near cry, but she's focusing on the beating of her heart instead. "Such a romantic, Conner." She sticks out her tongue at him playfully.


"I have absolutely zero patience," she starts and it is absolutely true, "but I guess I could try that whole waiting thing..." she looks over him. There are certainly worse guys she could choose to spend time with. Normally, she'd prefer the company of a woman, but... when will she experience someone who wants to say 'fuck the system' and have moments pretending the system doesn't exist alone together?

[Conner Wells]

For a brief moment, Conner is brought back to happier times. Times when he and another had just looked into each other's eyes without worry or expectation, just to be there with each other. God, I miss that.
But that was then, not now. But maybe the now wasn't all bad.

"Hey, I have my better days." And he means it. That was the frustrating truth of it all: there would be good nights and bad nights for all of them, and he couldn't plan on which would come right after the other. But perhaps they could make the most of whatever days they were given.

Conner chuckles, gently disentangling himself from Maeve's arms. "I mean, as much as I'd love for you to see me feral and desperate" there was just enough sarcasm in Conner's voice to let her know he WAS in fact joking "I'm sure it would be a lot more fun if we were lucid enough to share stories and laugh about how ridiculous our world is." ​Call it necessary if you must, that doesn't mean we can't laugh at it. "And if we just so happen to cuddle while doing so, then I won't complain." That was what almost got him with Maeve's Blush: the warm press of skin on skin, even as rough as it was.

"Besides, this should give me plenty of time to think about what I'm going to do with the Lancea Sanctum here in Sacramento. Maybe do some extra reading in between bouts of hunger-induced madness." ​There were plenty of stories of priests fasting and gaining inspiration from it. Maybe he'd gain something from his time out in the Barrens other than a refined humility. And he really did need to think about his Covenant responsibilities if he was going to get anywhere outside of Quinn's shadow.

[Maeve]

Maeve purses her lips, restraining a chuckle. Cuddles are nice. Fuck, he's so serious about this. Is this high school where you have mild crushes on people and then suddenly you're beyond that dating step? Weird as shit. ...it doesn't feel bad. It's a bad fucking idea though and I know it.


She opens her mouth to say something and she has to close it again, pushing herself just a bit further away. "You'll figure it out, I'm sure. The out in the wild, horrible fucking tasting vermin, urgh. Zero out of ten, do not recommend."


And then her mind is fantasizing about having time, just existing as a person with another person. Maybe even doing mundane as hell things, like reading near each other or watching TV. It feels almost unheard of. At least, here. With a bunch of unaligned, it isn't uncommon. But then, you're still always waiting with a dagger ready. That takes a lot of trust. A lot of trust she doesn't have for others. Is it because he's a shadow dweller just like she is?


Even still, the blushing, blue-haired Shadow sighs, "Okay. You need to get out of here before I rip you to pieces after playing a game of hide and seek. I get the odd feeling that I'm faster than you, so," she shrugs in an amused manner. She is joking. Ish. She is hungry for a chase, for a challenge of catching prey. Buuuut, she's pushing her beast back. She can do it.

[Conner Wells]

"I don't doubt that" And he truly doesn't. Even just from her build Conner can tell his Shadow Cousin has to be more nimble in a chase. "But thanks for this, really." He takes a step backward, still facing Maeve and her warm, bright, undaunted self. "I'm glad to know you Maeve." ​Even if you are a frustrating piece of work. Or maybe because of that.
​Conner takes several more steps back into the woods until he's confident he's out of Maeve's sight, then he turns and begins striding back towards the city limits. He wasn't sure what he expected to happen that night; he'd certainly played a few more grisly scenarios in his head more than once. But, for perhaps the first time since Conner had entered Sacramento, something had gone right. Not as expected, but right.
Another step forward...here's to the next few.

Thanks for the great scene!