paradisalogs | closed; forward-dated

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closed; forward-dated

Who: Damon Salvatore, Joshua Christopher, and later Julia.
What: Joshua's loss ends...in a certain vampire's room, and Damon tries to be a hero. Unfortunately a bystander gets caught in the crossfire.
When: Sunday morning (FEBRUARY 5th).
Where: Room 222 → Outside
Rating: R for violence and psychopaths.

Eight people (not counting the other people that got to walk in and out) and just over two weeks after the start of his loss, Joshua was steadily losing patience. The laundry room and kitchen had both been the most trying, given their loud activity. It wasn't his fault he had become a little violent.

At least he hadn't ripped off any heads.

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It was a time before the spasms finally subsided, and with them went whatever energy that regaining consciousness had given her. She slumped back against the mattress, no longer physically able to continue her feeble attempts at supporting herself.

But, despite this, there was something that caused her to want to try again. The sound of a voice, one that in her current state of partial awareness seemed like it was coming from about a million miles away. Maybe one that was... vaguely familiar? She didn't understand. Didn't--

With all the strength she could muster (which, again, wasn't much, but you have to give her credit for trying), she managed to lift her head just enough to catch sight of an equally familiar form approaching the bedside. Trying to process this didn't bring her any answers. Only more questions. The details of what had happened before she'd blacked out were still fuzzy; this wasn't helping.

"How...?"

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, Joshua sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at her. It was a friendly enough smile, but not exactly warm. And even if in passing Joshua didn't appear demonic at the moment, upon closer inspection his eyes could seem to nearly look right through her, with a distant glaze.

His voice was soft, but again, not particularly soothing. Joshua didn't feel good, and he didn't feel like coddling anyone right now. (Did he ever?)

"Consider it a miracle from God." Nothing loving about that, just pure sarcasm. "But really, it was your own fault. I should have left you for dead with the vampire."

Julia had always had good instincts. Surviving for as long as she had on the run would have been impossible without them. She knew when there was trouble, knew when to shoot, when to hide. To a point, right up until the very end, she'd managed to keep herself one step ahead.

Through profound physical weakness, her intuition remained as strong as ever. And as he came into clearer focus, everything about Joshua, from the smile and the gaze he sent in her direction, to his tone of voice, sent an instant chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold air still hovering in the room. She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all.

But there was almost nothing she could do about it.

Nothing except try to piece everything together as best as she could, keeping her voice, her entire demeanor, as calm as possible. "What happened?"

"You got in the middle of something you shouldn't have. Maybe Spike or Valentine should have let you know that I am incredibly capable at taking care of myself."

That wasn't to say he didn't get injured in the fight. But any bruises sustained had mostly healed by now, and anything annoying had become minor. Being able to control one's Astral energy was the reason demons could be so quick at healing.

But still, it wore him out, and it was slow. Nothing like the powers he used on other people.

"I disposed of him, and decided to bring you with me. I didn't have the time to heal you there. That kind of a fight might have drawn attention."

A typical person might have retaliated at some of those insinuations, especially said in that tone of voice. Or, at the very least, might have outwardly expressed some sense of being insulted or offended.

Julia, however, did none of those things. In fact, for a long time, longer than one would typically allow to pass, she chose not to respond at all, instead carefully letting everything being said to her run through her mind. With that to guide her, memories started to come back, vague flashes and hints. There had been commotion, a struggle. Something, she still didn't know what, that had compelled her to try to intervene against her better judgment...

... He could have easily left her for dead. The fact that he didn't was the one thing above all else that was beginning to strike her as the most strange about this whole situation. And so it became a natural choice for her focus for the moment.

Finally, she spoke up.

"Why?" Her voice was quiet, a strain to be heard, but it wasn't feeble.

It was easy for him to hear, though, not really needing to lean in. In fact he was leaning away, his gaze elsewhere, focused on the room itself for some reason. A glance here, a shift there. Joshua was uneasy.

"Why not? I have no reason to want you dead."

If anything, she was equally uneasy. Maybe more so. And there was no reassurance in his words, nothing to change that. People had ulterior motives, especially through acts of kindness. It was difficult to read him, to get a true gauge of what his might actually be.

Not that allowed any visible indication of these thought processes to show. It was an effort, but she was determined to continue to keep her guard up for as long as possible.

"I suppose I should thank you."

... Despite everything, though, there probably really isn't much else to say to someone who just saved your life.

That drew his attention back towards her with a slight raised eyebrow before another smile touched at his features. So far he didn't mind this woman. Both in the situation with Spike as well as here, she was remaining very calm and quiet.

He liked that. It was nostalgic. Did she have a deadpan humor like Fiore, he wondered?

"You're welcome. But it comes with a bit of a price. I'm not going to be able to take you back to the castle until tomorrow at the soonest. And don't be alarmed, but I hid your journal. Staying here now is already a risk, and I can't let you make it worse."

There it was. The catch she'd been waiting for. Her suspicions had been merited.

Maybe she didn't usually put much trust in the journal, and tried to rely on it as little as possible. She still wasn't convinced that the filters were completely secure, and who knows what could be picked up on if a page were to be accidentally left open. But the fact that it had been taken from her left her feeling entirely too vulnerable. Combined with her current condition, the fact that she'd been cut off from the most available avenue of communication rendered her completely dependent on someone she barely even knew.

She had to work actively to suppress the surge of blind panic that threatened to take her over. It wouldn't do her any good. Letting that kind of irrationality win would prevent her from thinking clearly, and that would lead to nowhere but trouble. Not to mention, an action as simple as moving her arm still required a significant amount of time to recover from; if she tried to bolt, she knew she wouldn't make it very far.

A deep breath. "We're not in the castle." It wasn't a question. She knew she was stating the obvious.

Shrugging, Joshua glanced around the room once more. It was just a plain room, an old one that had never been used. It was in terrible shape, really, and dust was everywhere. Not to mention it was freezing.

"I'd tell you where we are, but it doesn't really matter. Either way we're both stuck here for a little bit."

This was a predicament, though. He'd went through all the trouble to save the woman's life, but it was clear she was still having trouble. Had she lost that much blood? Joshua was no nurse, but at the same time he didn't just want to leave her in the room to freeze and starve. What was the point of healing her in that case?

"Don't panic, miss, I'm going to pick you up. I'm sure you want to move to a warmer room, and so do I."

Not bothering to wait for a response (what could she do? pinch him?), Joshua wasted no time in reaching down to scoop her up bridal style and pick her up off of the bed. At the very least, he was gentle this time, less rushed than before.

"There should still be some food here that hasn't gone bad. You look like you need to eat."

Edited 2012-02-08 06:15 (UTC)

Even if she'd been left alone, she wouldn't have been able to keep up this conversation for much longer anyway. Her efforts to keep a grip on consciousness, to process all this information being thrown at her at once, were steadily beginning to run out of steam. Her eyelids, which had only become increasingly heavier as time went on, finally closed.

Figuring out the finer details of her current predicament would have to wait.

There was no protest on her part when she suddenly found herself being picked up, even if she might have wanted to try. How could there have been? It was almost impossible to register what was even happening anymore, much less be able to find enough energy to make an argument about it. She was instead quiet and limp in his arms.

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closed; forward-dated

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*not that she... edit button why do i fail to use it :|

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