almightythirst | Open Post

It makes a difference when you feed to kill. And Jesse's thirst is unlike any he's known in one of their kind before. When that weighs on your conscience with every feeding, being choosy makes sense.

"Fortunately, bad men and desirable cars have long been a fashionable pairing." One eyebrow arches in his fledgling's direction, before he starts to gather their things together. What little had been unpacked, at least. This was always a temporary stop, a detour neither had anticipated.

In more ways than one.

In ways that still ache, bone-deep, and it's a small blessing that he's always had a magnificent poker face. Otherwise, it'd be impossible to stop from staring like some doe-eyed idiot.

Hard to argue with that logic. Jesse’s answering smile is touched with a bit of playful humor as he watches Hanzo gather up the last of their things. Once that's more or less done, he eases himself up out of the chair, his phone disappearing into a back pocket.

“That your way of saying you want to see me in a nice car?” He hefts his bag up onto his shoulder and waits near the door, watching Hanzo again that new warmth in his eyes. Might be he hasn’t known the other man that long in the grand scheme of things, but he knows enough by now to guess what might be going on under that poker face. And unlike Hanzo, he’s not so inclined to use his own. Not for this.

Hanzo's response is simply to roll his eyes, not even dignifying that with a response, before sweeping past McCree and out into the night. There are still tinges of red staining the edge of the horizon, but it's well and truly dark now, the streetlamps leaving pools of light along the parking lot.

Hopefully, Jesse will have his mind firmly on the hunt. This town is small, barely what one would call a city, but large enough to have a criminal element to prey upon. And his instinct for hunting has always been extraordinary, even before he was one of them.

As for Hanzo? Well. He could use a bite himself. Last night was taxing, all the way through to the end, and if there's more than one out there sordid enough to earn death at their hands? So much the better.

The sound of Jesse’s laughter follows Hanzo out the door, and the rest of him comes along right after it. It really is better they feed now. He hasn’t indicated as much yet, but with his hunger and the lingering effects of his wounds, his focus is shot. There’s no promising he won’t run them right off the road in this state if it continues for much longer.

Of course they find some worthy prey. Small-time, but still wicked enough to warrant the attentions of two vampires. And their vehicle— another truck— is just the sort of small-town-rich to be expected in a tiny place like this one. It’s gawdy and too polished in one old cowboy’s opinion. Not a speck of dust on the chrome. At least it’s got several USB ports. And seat warmers. For some reason.

“Probably don’t need half the buttons on his dash,” he mutters after they throw their things into the backseat and get settled in.

Laughter. To think they were in such dire straits just the night before, and he has the audacity to laugh. If the sound didn't warm something deep in his chest, he'd feel more than a little annoyed about it.

However, it has been a long, long time since his nights had laughter of any kind.

They don't quite hunt together, but it's a close thing. Two victims in close proximity, up to the same nonsense, and it's a meal nearly shared. Of course the fresh intake of blood brings with it the sense of restoration, old blood stirring quick and hot with the new. But even as he licks his lips Hanzo is beginning to think it pales in comparison with what they share.

As many times now as they've feed on one another, breaking that most basic of rules of their kind, he is beginning to understand why that rule stands in place. It is a rush like no other. He's never felt so strongly as he does when one takes from the other, and the little glimpses of emotion, memory, and feeling seem to be weaving a bond between them. That comes with inherent danger, of course. What happens when that bond must inevitably break? What comes when the blood of a human is no longer sufficient?

Things to consider as they settle in against leather seats, Hanzo reclining gracefully and observing Jesse's efforts to navigate the extraneous controls. "The young people do love their buttons. Give it time. It becomes more ridiculous the longer you go on."

Though he quietly reaches down and turns on the seat warmer on his side, while Jesse appears distracted by the illuminate dashboard.

The young people. Jesse almost makes a joke about it, but then it hits him all over again how old Hanzo is. It’s easy to act as if they are men of the same generation, close in age and shared experiences. There was some point where he had started to not think of Hanzo as something apart, but as a peer, and that bit of information had slipped into the background. In comparison, he’s closer to those ‘kids’ in age and experience than he is with the man sitting beside him.

Another reason why, while Hanzo ruminates on the effects of them drinking the other’s blood, Jesse does not. It’s been like this nearly since the beginning of his own undead life. Who’s to say that his preference for the blood of immortals isn’t normal? Or the way Hanzo’s pulls at him in particular?

“It’s not all bad. Looks like they got satellite radio on this thing.”

He fiddles with the controls just long enough to get something not too grating to play. Then it’s back to the business at hand, and to the consideration of their next move.

“So. Talon.”

They had never gotten around to the details of that conversation. Jesse’s phone, plugged in now, is set to direct them to the next medium-sized city. It’ll be a long drive. Plenty of time for catching up. With luck, things won’t end with another fight.

“What did they want with you?”

Of the subjects that could be broached, he was at least somewhat prepared for that one.

"Ostensibly, to provide information." Though he has a feeling now it was not as transparently orchestrated as it first seemed. But that was Talon, for you.

Hanzo settled back into his chair, eyes trailing to the lights passing by the window. "They have long sought an alliance. Though I have refused each time, they saw my taking a fledgling as an opportunity. Or a sign I might have changed my mind. There were rumors of my family they offered, in exchange for my continued consideration of their offer."

The oni mask. He's curious, he can't deny that. But now isn't the time to go chasing his family's ghosts, not with Jesse in tow.

Jesse frowns, considering this new information with a critical eye. It makes sense that a group like Talon would want Hanzo under their thumb: a skilled, powerful vampire discrete enough to be nearly untraceable.

The timing is the puzzling thing. Maybe it was as simple as Hanzo having taken on a fledgling. Jesse has no idea how the inner circles of vampire society think, and he hadn't been foolish enough as a solo hunter to get close enough to try.

Still. Something about it doesn’t sit right with him.

“What sort of rumors? They aren’t gearin’ up for another go at you, are they?”

"They are contending with a more immediate problem."

The photos are safely stowed, for now. But he will not forget them soon. The cheeky little salute, in particular, sticks out in his mind. Hanzo's expression pinches in displeasure.

"A masked assailant. One who hides his face behind a mask that once belonged to my family. I can only imagine their outrage."

He's not even the one under attack, and he feels slighted.

A masked assailant.

It’s a good thing they aren’t having this conversation face-to-face. Jesse has a good poker face— which he utilizes in quick order— but his surprise at that news is still too reflexive to immediately hide.

“And Talon cares about that why now?”

His hands and voice remain steady, his tone curious but not too much so. Careful. He has to be careful, even as dread sinks heavy into his stomach.

Good job, Jesse. Even Hanzo, honed and attentive as he is, doesn't seem to notice the shift. Instead he leans towards the window, one hand gesturing dismissively.

"They claim it is because any organization with that much power and influence hunting one of us is a concern to be monitored. And I would imagine that is a fraction of the reason for it."

Jesse would be prouder of his successful deception, had this been a lie he actually wanted keep up. And he has no illusions about this being a lie. That it’s by omission only doesn’t mean anything. His frown deepens, and he keeps his eyes trained steadily on the road ahead.

“But not the whole reason.”

He doesn’t like this. From top to bottom, it’s got the feel of something arranged in a particular shape. The sort you can’t see from down on the ground in the middle of it. Only the people who put it together from above know the whole picture. Jesse taps his fingers against the steering wheel in an erratic rhythm, considering all the parts they do know. Talon. Reaper. The man in the mask.

“They say anything else?”

"Of course not."

That much should be obvious. Talon is not in the habit of extending anything freely. This is a bribe, or an attempt to manipulate him, or something else entirely, but it would be beyond foolish to accept it as what it appears to be.

"There was some mention of you, but not by name. They know you are a hunter, and given your encounter with the Reaper...I'm certain the rest is known to them, by now."

He just can't think what difference it would make to them, one hunter over another.

Jesse nods once, expression neutral but tight around the edges as he lets the quiet hum of the radio fill the temporary silence. Thinking about Reaper again has his eyes lingering in places it doesn’t need to, the darkness around them oppressive even with his ability to see through it. Vampiric eyes can’t see everything there is to hide.

“Think it’s pretty clear the Reaper and Talon are workin’ together in some capacity.” Even though Jesse had thought the wraith had been working solo before. The fact that he’d been so off there is unsettling.

“And I don’t think Talon would give you that info about the guy in the mask unless they wanted you lookin’ into it. Or thought you knew more than you do.”

He’s thinking out loud, figuring Hanzo has come to the same conclusions already. It’s an old habit of his. Helps him think. He and Reyes had used to do the same thing, not unlike this.

Jesse’s hands tighten on the wheel, then loosen with a silent effort.

“We can either just ignore the whole thing, or do some digging.”

"It's too close to be coincidence," Hanzo agrees with a murmur, reaching up to lightly scratch at the edge of his beard. It's more a gesture of thought, habit, than actual need. Some bit of his more human tendencies creeping to the surface.

Gods forbid.

"Our first priority should be losing them as swiftly as possible. After that, I imagine they'll turn their attention to this masked menace in the hopes that I will go looking on my own." Knowing that, does he allow this? Does he give them that access to him of his own accord, on his terms?

Or does he wait for them to come searching once more?

Jesse knows which option he’d prefer, but this isn’t exactly his decision to make. It’s Hanzo they’re interested in. It’s his family involved, in one way or another. He spares the man beside him a quick glance, unsurprised that he can’t see a hint of what he might be thinking. It’s almost comforting in its familiarity. Though there does seem to be something more relaxed about him tonight... but the source of that feeling is hard to place.

“Your call. Though if we keep on the way we have been, it’s a sure thing we’ll be seein’ them around again before long.”

They wouldn’t have an element like Reaper on their side and just stand around. One way or the other, something will happen. They can either face it head-on or let it surprise them at some inopportune time.

“And personally,” he adds with a more relaxed smile. “I wouldn’t mind another trip to Japan myself. Didn’t get in much sightseein’ the last time I was there.”

"Have you so quickly tired of our journey across America?" Hanzo deadpans in turn, his gaze shifting towards Jesse without quite turning to look. "Who could imagine not wanting to drive eight hours without seeing civilization even once."

Not that he minds the quiet of the road, but it would be good to return to old territory and familiar things. Harder to stay off the radar? Possibly. But there's a longing that twines deep and rumbles, a sense of wanting to claim old soil that belongs to them.

Him.

The same, now. One could not be without the other.

“What, me?” Jesse doesn’t turn away from the road, but he glances Hanzo’s way, the look accompanied by a quick grin. “It’s gonna take longer than this for me to get tired of the open road. But a break couldn’t hurt.”

Or it could, depending on how things go. How could this not end in some measure of pain, if they uncover the truth? Though it’s something Jesse could take care of now. Just a few words, and Hanzo would know what really happened to his brother. No more of the suspense.

At the thought, Jesse looks quickly back at the road. Of course he would. Wouldn’t do to drive blind for too long, would it?

Surely it has nothing to do with the quick stab of guilt that hits him sure as an arrow to the chest.

Not your story to tell.

“I’m with you. Whatever you decide.”

I'm with you.

It's the first time he'll return home and not be alone in doing so. That's an odd realization to come to. For so long, 'alone' had been the default. And yet he knows for a fact that whatever waits for him back in Hanamura, Jesse would not let him face it alone. No more than Hanzo would allow him to face the Reaper on his own.

It will be trouble, but. He's glad of it, in some small way. There's a small thread of tension that leaves his shoulders as he nods, glancing back out of the window as the scenery rolls past in clusters of shadows and light.

"Then I suppose we will need to find a city big enough for an airport."

“Might take us another night or two, but I think we can manage.”

Their next destination won’t have an airport, but there’s at least one major city not too far away. They can make it there easily so long as nothing pops up in the meantime. But as eventful as the previous night had been, he has the feeling they’re not being actively pursued just now. Talon did what they wanted to do, and all that’s left is for him and Hanzo to make their own move.

Together, for better or worse. The two of them. A unit, as unlikely a pair as they are.

It’s much easier to find a place to stay this time, and it helps that Jesse isn’t covered in blood anymore. As he sidles up to the counter to get their room, he pauses just at the point where he’d usually say how many beds they’ll need. His eyes slip over to Hanzo, an unspoken question in his gaze.

It's just long enough of a pause to be slightly awkward, and he can feel the woman at the register's eyes move between the two of them. "Two," he replies, before the instinct to bristle up entirely takes hold, staring back at the woman intently.

But this is not the strangest exchange she's ever seen in her nights working here, clearly. Her curiosity is short-lived, and she hands over a key before going back to whatever television show she'd been watching prior to their arrival. Hanzo takes the key, scowling still, and leads the way to their modest accommodations.

When he opens the door, however, the room clearly has only one bed, and a hand lifts to rub at the bridge of his nose in irritation.

Jesse follows Hanzo’s lead, ignoring the complicated mess of emotions that little exchange had dredged up. But it’s silly, and he knows it, which is why he’s going to refuse to acknowledge it. What does this even matter in the grand scheme of things? They have bigger things to worry about then beds and romantic attachments that may or may not last through a trip to Hanamura.

When the door opens to reveal just one bed though, Jesse can’t help the quiet chuckle that slips out.

“Maybe she didn’t hear you right,” he suggests, knowing damn well otherwise. But he’s carefully not looking at Hanzo as he sets his things down.

“I can go ask for a cot, if you want to take the bed.”

"No. The more we speak to them, the more likely they are to remember us." One hand lifts, waving dismissively, before he enters the room. It is a large bed, anyway. They could have room enough to their own sides easily enough.

It would be a little harder to default to that, though. Something he'd wanted to avoid, but clearly not something fate was willing to let him ignore so easily.

"It is only for a night."

Only for a night.

Jesse pauses, waiting for the door to close behind Hanzo before he turns to face him again. There’s a frown on his face that isn’t so much upset as it is almost contemplative. He won’t go as far as concern just yet, not unless he has something he needs to be concerned about. But that’s the thing with Hanzo: he’s so hard to read that it’s hard to tell what he should or shouldn’t worry about.

“Just for one night?” he asks again, watching Hanzo closely. Even a man like him has to have tells.

He's in the process of removing his jacket when the question comes, and he pauses. Looks towards Jesse and that curious frown of his. His own lips tighten, and he finishes slipping out of the jacket, hanging it with care over the back of one of the chairs.

"Clearly you have something on your mind."

As though he didn't. As if he wasn't playing the events of last night through his head whenever the opportunity struck. Couldn't he appreciate how difficult it was to maintain focus with that running through his head all night long?

And that was the problem. Focus too closely on personal pleasure, lose sight of the goal. Grow soft, careless. No, not him. Not ever.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject