citynet | video; un: loveless

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video; un: loveless

Oh, hello there.

[Standing in the video is what appears to be a man, even if his proportions are distinctly too tall, arms and legs far too long. The mask he's wearing doesn't help to offset the appearance, and the mouth does not move.

Despite the network username distinctly being Daan's, the voice sounds nothing like him.]

Ladies, gentleman, and all there in between, it's a real pleasure to take advantage of this nifty invention to speak to you all at long last. It's been a real kicker waiting this long, but I'm nothing if not patient! So here we are, and introductions are in order, aren't they? Or maybe we've already met? Well, a refresher couldn't hurt.

I'm called a lot of things, but Pocketcat has been the most consistent. Funny little moniker! I absolutely adore it. And so suitable, too, for my pockets are very deep indeed.

Usually I'm something of a merchant, but I'll admit, my usual goods are just not material right now. My apologies on that front, but perhaps we could all barter for something else instead. I do so love a conversation almost as much as I love to trade, and frankly what is a chat but a trade of words anyway?

Ah, but here I am, rambling on! I should get to the point. Do forgive me.

You may ask me questions, of course, but I'll want something in return. That's just how the barter system goes, baby. For now... let's say I'll want your best story or secret. I'll just have to give a story in return. If such things interest you, of course.

Ta, my loves. I'll be thinking of you all.

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Well, hold on. As enlightening as all of this is, and as much as I love a good story, I would like my doctor back, and I wouldn't like to probe at anything he wouldn't like me knowing. I like a professional relationship with my medical providers, you know. Would you at least promise that the answer to this question isn't anything particularly heartbreaking?

Professional relationship. Really. Well, if that's how you view it, I won't rag on you.

So I'll just say this: everything about the poor man is heartbreaking. Even the things that should be beautiful are bittersweet. Such as the reason he tends to lean toward "Daan." I'll give you no more than that.

Darling, if our relationship wasn't professional, this conversation would be very, very different.

[ That being said, Midnight's aware that their relationship isn't purely professional... But he's not about to split hairs with someone so clearly maliciously intent on revealing parts of his doctor. ]

I'll ask him myself during my next appointment, I think, though I do appreciate your time. Give him my regards, won't you? Or, well, accept them in his stead, perhaps.

[ Which sounds very conclusive, but Midnight is actually going to get up, grab his coat, and figure out what the hell is happening.

(Seriously. Like, I don't know if you have plans, but Midnight will show up at the tea party eventually, whether Pocketcat has dispersed by then or not. He wants his doctor back.) ]

If you say so! I shan't press on the matter.

Of course, of course. In his stead, as it is now.

[As it is, Pocketcat is still at the tea party, at least for now. He seems content to spend his time on the network chatting away and carefully looking over the teacups with that unmoving smile of his.]

[ Then Midnight will arrive, hands in his pockets, because he always manages to get the information he needs precisely when it matters.

He observes the table. The table stares back. He thinks: like the ice cream and, with all of the stubborn pride in him, ignores the urge to sit and drink.

Well, at least that cat is hard to miss. ]

Hello there. Shall I have whatever you're having?

[ With the tone of someone about to buy a lovely stranger a second drink, of course. ]

Oh! What a treat! Please, Midnight, do join me, my dear. It's wonderful to see you up and about. Always vibrant even when you've got your illness; that's the way to live.

[He gives the chair near him a little pat.]

Green tea, then? I'm sure there's a cup to spare.

Optimism never made an illness worse.

[ ... Despite himself, Midnight sits, but he'll look over, note the tea the cat's having — green indeed — and pull the correct pot over to himself. He'll serve himself, but only if necessary.

(He closes his eyes for a moment. He knows the poison is in there this time. Drinking it would be a choice. Don't panic. Breathe.) ]

There certainly is a variety of choices to be had. Did you try any of the others, or did you prefer the green?

Right you are. There's something so enchanting about it. Now, I mean that, I really do. Even if maybe our old pal Daan is so unsure, I'm sure that I quite adore your optimism. It's beautiful.

[Despite however it may appear, Pocketcat's words are genuine and fond. He daintly crosses his legs, one hand staying in his pocket, naturally.]

Oh, that's the thing, love. There's no telling what brand of poison is in the other cups and I've done my taste testing as it is. Though I'm more of an assam man myself. Shame they didn't have any, I'd have taken the whole pot!

Thank you. A smile on every face, mm? That includes my own.

[ ... Midnight spots the color coded shelves, but doesn't make the connection to the tea colors just yet. Seeing the tea colors would help, probably, but he only has eyes for Pocketcat. Mostly. ]

Your favorite tea flavor, for free? Well... I feel rather privileged. Would you like me to compensate you for that one as well, or are you in a generous mood today?

Please, my friend. For that information, I won't charge. I'm not that stingy, I swear.

Say, what about you? Partial to tea? Or do you have some other preferred drink?

[ Midnight laughs, the pressure leaving his body in a few harsh barks. ] My... Well, I appreciate that. If you're that generous, I can't accuse you of playing favorites.

[ ... Midnight almost pours into a nearby teacup in response. He grips into his leg instead. That impulse is very, very subtle. His kneejerk phobia of eating or drinking anything this city offers is the only thing standing between him and a social libation. Funny how it's coming in handy, for once. ]

Well... You know me, don't you? Daan's mixed me more than a few drinks. I'm a lush, darling.

[Carefully, the Pocketcat watches Midnight with his large, almost lamp-like eyes. Somehow despite having the appearance of a rubber mask, those eyes glint, and the smile manages to widen.]

That's too true. What a shame we don't have a bar for you. Just delicious leaves brewed to perfection.

Well, how about it? Want to try one? I'll admit some selfish curiosity. What the tea did for me... whatever would it do for others? How is it defined? I would just love to know.

[ ... Eerie. A bit like Morte, Miss Shamare's doll, although he can't put his finger on any specific similarities.

Midnight allows himself a second to think, but there's no time to actually test his plans in the moment. He'll have to wing this and hope for the best. ]

You know... I didn't intend to overstay my welcome. I was just here to see if the circumstances really were the way they are. Which is to say... You'll have to forgive me, but I wasn't planning on drinking with you at all.

[ A beat. Midnight grins. ]

However... If you're really that lonesome, that starved for company of like mind? I could be convinced to satisfy your curiosity. Pity for your circumstances may not be enough to sway me, mind. I have no curiosity about who I'll be after I partake.

[ Read: He'll drink... for a price. The barter system, baby. ]

So you intended to simply tease me with your company? Tsk! What a playboy indeed. I should have known. Fear not, I won't let it break my heart.

[The opportunity does have the Pocketcat's interest, and he taps a claw to the table with a thoughtful noise.]

Let us see if we can come to an agreement, then.

What would you ask of me, my dear?

Well.

[ Midnight readjusts in his seat, turns to look Pocketcat in the eye, elbow on the table, jaw resting on his palm. This is an open table, and Pocketcat is free to bargain. ]

While I will admit that my main concern is the return of a Daan who can look after my medical needs, I somehow doubt you would give up your current freedom so easily in exchange, especially if what you need is more company, not less.

What I ask for...

[ Midnight tilts his head in a gesture of coy understanding. Of someone who is about to give a very tender deal. ]

Is a promise. That once I do drink, that you will not only keep yourself and yours from harm, but others as well. Judging from the nature of your transformation... well, suffice to say that I don't think my other self will be as gracious as your good self. I simply ask you to promise to protect yourself, and others, by whatever means you find necessary.

Hmm. Mmm-hmm. I see!

[The Pocketcat dwells on the terms, seemingly delighted and entertained in one fell swoop.]

You would turn the deal into a way to protect myself and others. I have to say... I didn't see that one coming.

Tell you what. I like this idea. Why not turn things around for awhile? I wonder if Master would be so amused by the circumstances? Being a bit unpredictable can be so his better nature...

Yes. Yes, let's do this.

[ Midnight grins, then, all sharp teeth; lifts his hand, pulls a teacup to his side, then pours a mouthful of tea. He is grim, his heart is pounding. There are three flavors of terror here; all of them taste like blood.

(At least one is green tea, of course.)

He lifts the cup to his lips. ]

As you wish. A pleasure doing business with you.

[ He tilts his head back, does not bother to let it cool. It scorches his tongue, his throat.

He sets the cup back down. ]

A word of advice about my kind. It is said that we have weaknesses. From the legends, you know. Holy signs, water, sunlight.

[ He shakes his head. The roots of his hair fade from dark, dark black to pure white. His eyelashes catch the light, bleaching from the transformation, as he smiles up at the Feline. The pink of his eyes are very bright. ]

No such reality exists. There is, therefore, no shame in running.

[ There really isn't much difference besides the color of his hair, the length. There's a certain claw to his nails, perhaps a calmer, quieter air to him. But it's still Midnight.

His back straightens, though. His chin raises, he looks to his conversational partner. When he smiles at his friend, the expression is deeply lovely, sympathetic and warm. ]

And who are you, then? To take that which belongs to me?

[A soft yet elated laugh escapes the wicked cat as he watches the change. It is subtle, but he's still pleased to see the work be done.]

Ah, sorry about that, my dear. But I did have first dibs.

Now then -- I am a man of my word. Even if you may want to take back that deal, I don't plan on it, personally.

[Abruptly, his limbs seem to extend, a deep purring in his chest. With the elongated arms and legs, it settles in the uncanniness of his appearance further as he scampers to escape the vampire with a hoot and a holler.]

[ Midnight watches the cat flee, lists to the side to watch him run. He then laughs a little, stands from the table, walks over to the shelf with its seed packets. It's a matter of seconds; he understands the trick. He takes a green packet, folds it into his hands.

He walks after the cat. The cat wears masks, stretches and shrinks, a creature of ghastly means and ends. No matter. The only thing that matters is if his new friend bleeds. If he does, he will be found, even if it takes the whole, whole day... ]

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video; un: loveless

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i have zero plans but we can absolutely action thread if you want

slams that [ action;] tag down

NICE. NICE.

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done

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