Dilandau Albatou (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burnburnburn) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kore_logs2013-08-04 12:30 am
burnburnburn) wrote in kore_logs2013-08-04 12:30 am
Entry tags:
Compromises
Who: Dilandau Albatou, Mina Barrett
Where: Mina's house
When: Day 98
Summary: Mina needs to eat and Dilandau needs to heal fast. Can the powers she offer be too good to be true?
Warnings: Self-injury, blood drinking.
Had anyone seen Dilandau heading towards Mina's house early on the 98th day they might have thought the scowl on his face meant he was in another of his bad moods. In truth it was an attempt to hide his trepidation at the exchange he was about to make with the blood-drinking demon for his good health.
The price for her service was steep. He had to sacrifice three pints of blood and then drink one pint of hers, which ought to heal him completely. The foreign measurements meant little to him, but after playing around with some glasses from the bar and some water he was sure that was nearly two almuds of blood. She claimed he wouldn't need medical intervention if he gave up that much, but he knew perfectly well that after draining that much from his veins he'd be too weak to stop her if she decided to take everything left too.
Due to this, he'd been preparing himself for the last few days. He'd eaten plenty of red meat to promote healthy blood and had slept as well as he'd been able. His knife was razor sharp in order to open his arm with the least amount of scarring, as was his sword in case he needed to decapitate the woman he was meeting. The pint glasses were in a bag so that both he and she could be sure no one was taking too much. Short of taking a helper to watch over the deal, he was as ready for this exchange as he could be.
It was a risk, he knew, to trust something so far out of his own experience, but he had little choice. With his ribs still half-healed he was useless, unable to hunt, unable to fight, unable to so much as run if something tried to attack him. His awareness of his own vulnerability left him stressed enough that he was unable to relax and the constant pain frayed his already-thin temper to the point where he was in danger of turning what few allies he had left against him. He had no real choice.
And so when he reached her house he stood to attention, smoothed out his expression and knocked firmly on the door, hoping that vampires couldn't smell fear.
Where: Mina's house
When: Day 98
Summary: Mina needs to eat and Dilandau needs to heal fast. Can the powers she offer be too good to be true?
Warnings: Self-injury, blood drinking.
Had anyone seen Dilandau heading towards Mina's house early on the 98th day they might have thought the scowl on his face meant he was in another of his bad moods. In truth it was an attempt to hide his trepidation at the exchange he was about to make with the blood-drinking demon for his good health.
The price for her service was steep. He had to sacrifice three pints of blood and then drink one pint of hers, which ought to heal him completely. The foreign measurements meant little to him, but after playing around with some glasses from the bar and some water he was sure that was nearly two almuds of blood. She claimed he wouldn't need medical intervention if he gave up that much, but he knew perfectly well that after draining that much from his veins he'd be too weak to stop her if she decided to take everything left too.
Due to this, he'd been preparing himself for the last few days. He'd eaten plenty of red meat to promote healthy blood and had slept as well as he'd been able. His knife was razor sharp in order to open his arm with the least amount of scarring, as was his sword in case he needed to decapitate the woman he was meeting. The pint glasses were in a bag so that both he and she could be sure no one was taking too much. Short of taking a helper to watch over the deal, he was as ready for this exchange as he could be.
It was a risk, he knew, to trust something so far out of his own experience, but he had little choice. With his ribs still half-healed he was useless, unable to hunt, unable to fight, unable to so much as run if something tried to attack him. His awareness of his own vulnerability left him stressed enough that he was unable to relax and the constant pain frayed his already-thin temper to the point where he was in danger of turning what few allies he had left against him. He had no real choice.
And so when he reached her house he stood to attention, smoothed out his expression and knocked firmly on the door, hoping that vampires couldn't smell fear.