Cougartooth Swamp Bed Frame Corner

Night of June NEW moon

He felt stifled, as if everything was closing in around him. New moons always but him in a bad mood, so after getting into a snappy fight with Tempest he had decided it was better to be out of the house. Out of Alder heights. He just need space. Lots of space. Which was why he was at the swamp. No one around to prickle his mood.

Although being out here all alone wasn't doing much of him either. He had parked and made it to the tree line before the realization had dawned on him.

Snarling some word in French he kicked the nearest object, of course said object was a tree. And as tree's weren't particularly soft the force sent a bolt of pain up his foot. Rather like slamming into one of those bed frame corners. He yowled and hopped about madly holding his booted foot. A rather particular sight.

At least no one was around to see it. He thought :[
Samiel lived nearby. And it was his favorite place for the walks when he needed to think... And lately, he needed a lot of thinking. About his job, about his detective training, about his family... So he took a stroll among the trees, limping quietly, smoking a cigarette and looking for a trash bin perhaps, where he could safely dispose of the used match and future cigarette butt...

And then he heard a pained yowl. Someone was hurt, so he quickened his steps, cursed his leg, and...

"Monty?" there was his... sort of adoptive son. Little did Samiel know that he, for some reason, became sort of a dad to three vampires. "Are you alright, dude...?"
He had been unleashing some very choice words in French amid his hopping when Samiel's voice cut in. Yes Samiel. Because it seemed he was going to have to fight with everyone he loved tonight. Anger sparked in his chest at being seen and it was so very hard to squash it out.

New moons were such a bitch.

He did drop his foot because that was undignified. Even if it still sort of hurt. Any other day he would have played it off with a joke but he couldn't muster one up tonight.

"Im fine, just a bad night."

No point going into the swamp in more so he started to trudge back towards the parking lot and where Samiel stood.

One thing he hadn't considered was the smell of psychic blood. Sweet and tantalizing on top of a foul mood. It stopped him dead in his tracks and his eyes lighted into silver, irises all but disappearing. Over powering ache in his gums that spiked to a point in a matter of seconds as fangs slipped out of his gums, like sharp pearls in a dead mans skull.

"Don't come any closer."

He tried to say around the new teeth.
A bad night, huh...? Again, his fatherly instincts took over the common sense. Of course he knew it was new moon, but that was Monty. Samiel also very much lacked the sharp nocturnal senses of a vampire, he didn't see the fangs coming out.

"Do you want to come to my place? I could feed you if you're hungry." he said quietly, not moving from the spot though. If the vampire needed space, then he needed space.
He felt both rooted to the spot and the need to rush forward, to claim the prize sitting there before him. The need, need for blood, for the sweet scent. It throbbed in his veins. And this was the man who had sat in his perfume work shop. The one that teased Tempest with him.

He could not, would not bloodlust on Samiel.

So he did the most instinctual thing and squatted down right where he had been standing and barred his head in his arms, trying to block out the smell. If he had the willpower he would have called Tempest, but it was taking everything not to just rush Samiel and rip his throat with fangs.

"Can't...I'll ..hurt .. you"

Getting the words out was very hard as he was trying not to breath.
Things seemed to go downhill and Samiel's hands were trembling with worry. The poor boy seemed to be suffering... and the old psychic felt powerless to stop it. What should he do? Couldn't just leave the vampire like this.

"It's okay... it's okay, I'll get you help, alright?" he whispered, reaching for his phone. Calling Tempest seemed to be the wisest thing to do right now.
God he felt pretty embarrassed that he needed help not killing his own mother's boyfriend. Hundreds of years and he still didn't have control. Every bit of air the slipped into his arm cocoon smelled so heavenly. A thick rum waiting for him. He wanted it.

Wanted it, wanted it, wanted it.

His jaw cracked somewhere between trying to stay close and snapping open.

How long would it take for Tempest to come? How fast could she drive, fly? He wouldn't last that long like this. Pressing his face against his own arm he would open his lips and bite down hard.

Vampire blood was probably the grossest tasting thing on the planet. It was all congealed. Enough to make even his fangs shy away. Which was what he had wanted in the first place. The shudder of hunger shrunk, put off. And only after he felt fairly sure he wasn't going to break out into dracula would he stand up. The white of his shirt sleeve now blemished with black blood.

His worry made him unable to stand back. It didn't felt right. Luckily Samiel had Tempest on the quick dial and calling her didn't took long.

Now it was a matter of her answering.

Please, answer, dear... he thought, his hands still trembled a little.

Oh no, Monty was bleeding... was it his fault...?
Tempest was just on her own, feeling wound up after Monty left. It was never a good night to just leave like this so she was pacing and anxious. When her phone rang though and it was Samiel , she'd answer,
Samiel, how are you this evening?
She tried to not sound tense but such was life!
He could see Samiel on the phone, probably talking with Tempest. If it was any other night he would have told them he was fine now. The new moon being a bitch meant he could still go crazy. What he needed was to feed. And Samiel was a human, a psychic even. Perhaps now that he wasn't on the verge of bloodlusting?

There wasn't time to weigh his options, he need to either do it or not.

He took a few more steps towards Samiel.

"I need blood before I loose control."
I need you to come to the swamp as soon as you can. It's about Monty. Hurry.

His voice dripped with worry. Trembling a bit. Samiel took a deep breath, weighed his options. Yes... it was definitely better to feed him when he was still lucid. Hopefully it would calm him down, right.

"Alright... okay..." the psychic offered his arm. "Be careful..."
I'll be there soon, you two stay safe I am on my way,
She didn't have to think, she ended the call and shoved her phone in her pocket before taking flight and flying as fast as her vulture wings could carry her. Tempest feared losing Monty, he had been with her for so long that she couldn't see a continuation with him and Samiel was such a good kind force. It was painful to think of something happening to either of them.

will arrive after 4 posts

An arm was offered and he took it. No time for hesitation, cause things were going to get worse before they got better. Still he was careful with the shirt sleeves not wanting to ruin Samiel's clothing. But the moment that was out of the way he opened his lips and sank two bright and shiny fangs into the mans' wrist.

It probably hurt just as much as a needle, although Monty's concept was of a sewing needle and not an inject as he didn't know what those were.

The blood that spilled into his mouth was hot and so very sweet. Succulent as a peach running down his throat.

Sweet, so sweet. He wanted more of it. All of it.

The tips of his fingers would lengthen, becoming more claw like as they dug into Samiel's arm. And he drank deeply. Lost in the sensations of warmth pooling in his stomach. Of memories the blood brought back. Salt stung waves, candle light cabins, a glass of rum.
Samiel gasped quietly once he was bitten. But he was slowly getting used to it.

The claws... the claws were a new thing. Worrying thing. He got reminded of the time this young boy rended his skin...

"Monty..." he whispered. "That's enough..."
He was starving even as he drank. An endless pit that would never be full. Mostly he didn't want the feeling to stop. Almost similar to the distant memory of sun rays warming his skin. He felt alive. Veins pumping adrenaline even if imaginary. The thumping of a heart after a battle. Or the spray of the ocean on his face.

Words came through jumbled, unable to understand, but he knew the voice.

Samiel. Samiel. Come to join him and reveal in the rush of freedom and danger of a boat. His grip lessoned a little, yet still he drank.
Oh no, this kid seemed to be completely lost in the sauce. Perhaps this was a mistake.

And the sudden feeling of weakness was a confirmation of that. Oh dear, not good at all.

"Monty, snap out of it, please...!" Samiel managed to gasp out, feeling his knees bending.
The arm beneath his fangs tilted enough that the blood flowing into his mouth trickled down. And there were words again, words that Monty managed to actually understand through the haze. He wasn't sure why Samiel wanted him to stop but he did. Raising his head away from the arm to stare with unfocused silver eyes.

Samiel was swaying but the boat was gone. They were on solid ground. And there was something warm on his chin.

He reached out meaning to steady Samiel.
Tempest flew as fast her as wings could take her, she didn't stop, didn't want to stop, and wouldn't as she could smell the sweetness in the air as she circled around and around until she saw the pair.

It was unnerving and almost terrifying as she would land and stumble a little on her feet. She needed to work on those but she was human once more and would quickly move to stand right behind Samiel and use herself to prop him up in case he fell. Looking to Monty, there was worry there too.

"Monty! What happened? " stupid question, beyond stupid question but she was asking as she looked to Samiel who was paler than normal and she was only just hanging on by a thread to keep from tasting him. "Samiel? Can you talk? " don't breathe, she needed to not breathe and it would be ok.
First he leaned against Monty, then he was pulled against Tempest. Samiel swayed back and forth, weak and a little bit confused now. Lost a bit too much blood, luckily not enough to die.

"I need to sit down..." he gasped put. "Sit down, legs up... I'll be fine..."

He had worse after all. Even just a couple of months ago, he had worse.
Tempest appeared as if she had always been there. Things felt so slow even as she moved to Samiel it seem to take an age.

And they needed to sit down. He gave a slow nod his mind caught in the effects of psychic blood. His whole body tingled, but the good kind of tingle. The air smelled good, a flower field in a swamp. And they were going to sit down. Yes thats what he wanted. Lay down. He was tired in a warm and fuzzy way. Like being under a pile of blankets in the cold.

"Sssit down."

He slurred and did just that slumping down onto his ass in the dirt.

Unfocused eyes stare at the wound on Samiel's arm even as it started healing.


He knew what to do for a wound! As slow as any drunkered he would rip off one of his own sleeves and try to use it to cover the wound. Key word being try.
Tempest would first help Samiel to the ground, worry written all over her face as she would pull off the old leather coat she was wearing to put under his head. He was settled for the moment, good.

It was a little funny to Monty drunk off of psychic blood like this, how he moved and tried to bandage up Samiels arm where he had bitten. At least she knew he had some of his brain intact from it all.

"Monty, let me see your arm, " she told him as she was trying to not breathe in the seductive scent of psychic. A part of her brain was whining that it wasn't fair that she didn't have any. It was right there and she'd be able to take some before he was hurting, right? Her fingers would press against the bridge of her nose as her hand held out for Monty's arm to look it over.

"Can someone tell me what happened please? And Samiel, I will give you some of my blood to help you just...just give me a minute, " she was gritting her teeth a bit through it all.
Samiel sighed quietly as he lied down, bent his legs at the knees to keep them higher. Felt a bit better already... His knee didn't even hurt. Lucky.

And wow, Monty was such a sweet boy. Eager to rush in and help, even in his intoxicated and hazy state... The old psychic couldn't help but smile a little.

"I was enjoying my nightly walk... Couldn't sleep. And found him here, unsettled and on the verge of bloodlust." he explained, turning to Tempest. "So I fed him, to keep him more relaxed."

A walking weed brownie. Still made him chuckle.
He was pretty sure he knew how to wrap makeshift bandages, but the fabric was getting tangled up between his fingers. The attention he had been giving it turned from an intense stare to a glare. He was the great Montigny Le Plassia and he was not going to be bet by some stupid bandage.

Tempest was asking for his arms, which was a slurred 'no'. He needed them to work on the bandage Tempest. Needed to show it who was the boss. Which was him. Definitely him.
Tempest would listen to Samiel as well as watch Monty struggle with the bandage...why was it causing him so many troubles? Oh, probably because he was high as a kite and she was sober and pissy feeling right now. It was hard to just not snap at him and take over, it would solve nothing.

"Samiel...that was smart and foolish all wrapped into one moons and vampires...they just don't mix and were more- emotional? Sensitive? Something like that and it can turn even the kindest vampire into something they normally aren't, " she told him as she would blow air through her nose.

"Why don't you sit Monty? Your drunker than when you were on the ship, " she told him, trying to tease a little bit while also take care of these two. This was going to shave years off of her life, she knew it deep down into her soul. These two were going to make her age.
"I couldn't leave him like this... and it's not exactly as if I can run for a long time." Samiel chuckled quietly. In a way, he was glad it was him. It seemed like Monty managed to reign back his bloodlust just because they knew each other. Because they were friendly and cared about each other.

He glanced over at Monty. His high seemed to last quite long. Was it because of combination of new moon and taking a bit too much...?

"Is he going to be okay?"
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