Silver Wolf = Julian
Golden Wolf = Thorne Scarred Wolf = Cash Thin Wolf = Daedalus White Wolf = Lillie Spotted Wolf = Sonny Gray Wolf = Cameron"Wolf Vision"
A Swordfeast Universe Story/RP Session by Marcia TuckerTime: Early evening, Saturday, Oct. 26. Before events in "In the Moonlight" and "A Conflagration of Brujah"
Note: The Story part is in past tense, the RP part is in present tense =================(the story)
Detective Jim Ellison sat on the blue sofa in the loft apartment he shared with Blair, staring out the big window at the glowing, thin line on the horizon that represented the distant city of San Francisco across the Bay. He felt exhausted, drained, and knew of no reason why he should feel so. No real reason, not one based in the physical world, but he strongly suspected a psychic one. It wasn't so much the unnerving discovery of a true vampire, not Kindred, in the police department yesterday, meeting Nick Knight... it was more...
Dr. Blair Sandburg, his roommate and lover, was meeting with a couple professors from Berkeley about his acceptance of an adjunct professorship; one of them was leaving for Ethiopia in the morning, so the meet couldn't have waited until Monday. Jim felt the absence of his Guide acutely right now, wondering if he could manage a spirit walk without him. [But then I used to have these on my own before...]
Jim closed his eyes, remembering. He and Blair, somewhere along the beginning of their sexual relationship, had developed something of a psychic connection, an outcropping of their already mystical Sentinel/Guide relationship. The new connection allowed Blair to join Jim on the spirit plane and to Guide him there. Most of the time Blair would lead Jim in a meditation to enter the spirit world, but three days ago Jim was nearly drawn, no, DRAGGED there anyway. This miasma he felt... he suspected could be a signal that it was going to happen again.
[I can't wait until Blair gets home to do this,] Jim thought morosely, bending over, his head in his hands. [What if I got violent or something?] What he didn't like to admit to himself was that this was scaring the hell out of him. [Visions of wolves, then meeting Kindred, and THEN a real vampire! Now, more visions? What the fuck is happening to me?]
Suddenly he uncurled, launching himself off the sofa. [I have to try this on my own,] Jim said to himself resolutely as he headed for the spiral stairs leading up to the loft area. Blair's meditation space.
Jim settled on the cushions, stripped to the waist, a bandana around his head. He'd lit candles perfumed with some concoction that Blair claimed aided the entrance into the spirit world. The boom box next to the futon played some of Blair's favorite Native American drumming music, another "aid". [Whatever works,] Jim mused, sitting in something of a lotus position. He prefered to leave the - as he put it - "mojo" details to his anthropologist partner.
As the music began its steady pulsing, Jim practiced the deep breathing exercise Blair had taught him, his eyes closed. The sounds and the scent carried him to what he soon perceived as a barrier. His Guide wasn't there to take him past it. Resolutely Jim concentrated. [I have to do this, have to go to the vision land,] the Sentinel mused, then like a fog lifting he could see within... and entered the vision.
He was himself in jungle fatigues, not the black jaguar, though he could see his spirit animal moving slowly through the jungle undergrowth ahead of him. Sentinel and jaguar moved away from the Temple, he immediately noticed, but he followed his animal anyway.
Soon the forest was full of sound, not the usual birds and insect noises, but the rumble of howling wolves. [More wolves! Another confrontation?] Jim wondered, but kept following his animal guide further. They came presently to a large clearing, and indeed, there were wolves there, seven of them. The jaguar sat down at the edge of the clearing so Jim seated himself next to the large cat.
[Do you smell smoke?] Jim suddenly asked his guide, but the jaguar growled. A voice came to him: [There is no fire.] The Sentinel settled down, then. The scent of smoke dissipated, leaving behind the earthy scent of the wolves and the usual spicy jungle aromas.
He recognized most of the restless wolves. Silver was there, of course - Julian Luna - and Jim picked out Scarred Wolf (Cash), Thin Wolf (Daedalus), and Golden Wolf. New to him were a beautiful pure white wolf, a dusky gray wolf from whom anger seemed to radiate, and a spotted wolf who stayed close to Silver and seemed to resemble him in some way. Jim suddenly realized he could distinguish the individual scents of each wolf except that Silver and Spotted had the same scent. Same Clan? Was Spotted Wolf representing Sonny Toussaint, Ventrue clansman to the Prince? He stored away the scent memories for future reference. Who, then, were the white and gray wolves?
Only Golden, again, looked his way. Somehow the Sentinel understood that the golden wolf was more aware of the spirit plane than the others, and hence more aware of him. He sensed a benevolence there similar to what he felt around Silver. An ally, to be sure. Another Guide? Or another Sentinel? Could he talk to it?
[Golden Wolf, who are you?] Jim whispered in the spirit realm.
[A friend,] came back the answer, though the golden wolf turned his attention back to the pacing, growling wolves around him. [Where is the Shaman?]
[He is not with me...]
Which was not to say that Blair was unaware of what had happened. The anthropologist, though sensing the weariness emanating from his lover, completed his business at the university, but got diverted when one of the professors wanted to drop by a coffeehouse where others in the department were having a social gathering. [Jim will sleep it off,] Blair told himself as he went along with the group. He had to work with these people now, so he needed to get to know them.
But as he was sitting around the table with his fellow anthropologists listening to an intriguing tale of a trip last month to a tribe in Ecuador, Blair was distracted by psychic emanations that could only mean one thing. Jim was walking the spirit plane, alone. He was about to make excuses to leave when a voice came to him suddenly - [Shaman...]
Stunned, he sat still. [Jim?]
[A friend. Jim is fine. Trust me; Silver will protect him.]
It wasn't Silver, Blair knew, nor of course Jim. [Golden Wolf?]
But the touch to his mind was gone. Blair relaxed, feeling better. He paid attention to the story, trusting in the golden wolf completely.
[What is happening? Who are the new wolves?] the Sentinel was inquiring of the golden wolf on the spirit plane. [Why did I smell smoke?]
[This is not happening in the present,] came back the quiet response from Golden Wolf. [Ask Silver about the others. The smoke is a symbol of trouble ahead. I do not know what that is exactly.]
Jim was floored - he was envisioning the spirit world's version of a future event? Another gathering of the Kindred leaders? There were none of the golden-eyed Stranger wolves here this time, nor the Raven. He glanced at the silent jaguar at his side, calm and relaxed. Though there was anger in the wolves, there was also a kind of harmony in their basic kinship. Indeed, Kindred. Jim looked long at the golden wolf, wondering what manner of Kindred he was. [Who are you?]
There was a hesitation, then Golden Wolf seemed to smile at him, amused by the question. [I am as yet unknown to you. Your beloved is a True Shaman; I am merely a shaman by long study and experience. That you know of me is not important. What is important is that you help Silver as best you can.]
The Sentinel nodded, understanding. There was already some sort of... connection between himself and Julian Luna, the Prince... "Silver". [I met a Stranger Wolf, Golden.]
The shaman wolf looked over again finally. [Ask yourself, Jim - why are you here, separate from your animal guide? When you know the answer to that, you will understand the significance of that meeting.]
Abashed, Jim nodded. Usually he was here *as* the jaguar, not accompanying it. What did the separation mean? He would have to talk to Blair about it.
But first... he had to talk to Luna.
(the session)
After getting the directions from Daedalus, Jim Ellison, dressed in slacks, polo shirt, and light jacket against the night air, comes around the side of Camera della Luna to the tree-lined avenue in the back. He looks up at the massive columns, then down at the portico where his "patron" awaits him. "Luna," he begins, glad to see him. "Thanks for letting me come at this hour."
Julian Luna is dressed down from his usual suit and tie, wearing black slacks and a crisp white long-sleeved shirt, open slightly at the neck. He's leaning against one of the columns, staring out into the night sky. Noticing his guest, he turns, extending his hand for a friendly shake. "It's no trouble, Jim. Something must be bothering you to call."
Jim shakes the offered hand firmly. "Bothering me? You could say that..." His eyes barely connect with the other, flicking around the perimeter, senses attuned.
The lack of eye contact and perimeter searching don't go unnoticed by the Kindred prince. It's a mode he's been in himself, many times, going into battle as Archon's enforcer. [What could have him this much on edge? Or is that natural?] "Jim, this place is like a fortress. My men are all along the perimeter," he tries a reassuring voice. "You're safe."
The Sentinel nods, willing himself to calm, though it's tough after what he's been through. "I had another vision, Luna. Blair wasn't there or part of it - he's at the U tonight. This one was different from the others." He shakes his head, wishing he could puzzle it out.
The Ventrue is still trying to figure out this man, exactly what being a Sentinel means ... and, most of all, how they figure into the Kindred world. But the visions are what brought Ellison and Sandburg to his doorstep in the first place, and he's not about to discount them. "Did it involve the wolves again?"
"There was smoke first... I smelled smoke," Jim relates. He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, but now that he's actually talking to Julian Luna, he finds himself beginning to calm. "I heard a voice tell me that there wasn't a fire, though. Then I came to a large clearing. There were seven wolves there, howling and pacing around."
"Seven wolves?" Julian questions, mentally recounting the last vision, putting the image of the fire to the back of his mind for the moment. "All the same? Or a mix again?" He leans back against the column, in a relaxed position, hands at "parade rest" behind his back, one foot braced against the column's floor edge ... trying to foster the atmosphere of calm.
"No, none of them the same," Jim relates. He takes a deep breath, continuing to relax in the presence of this Kindred. "Each one is different. All Kindred, at least the type of wolves with silver eyes that I associate with Kindred. No Stranger wolves. No Raven." He stares, but his sight seems to be elsewhere, thinking of the wolves in the jungle vision. "I recognize some of them from the other visions." Jim smiles. "You're what Blair and I call 'Silver Wolf' or just 'Silver'."
"I like that." Julian returns the smile, bemused at the "code name" he has been bestowed. "And the others? The ones you feel are Kindred. What did they look like?"
"Cash is this smaller wolf with scars on his head and coat," Jim explains. "Of course, I have no idea why he has scars. We call him 'Scarred Wolf'." He shuffles his feet, feeling a little silly talking about spirit wolves.
"Emotional scars," Julian says under his breath, but clearly audible to the Sentinel. "Too many." He slides his foot higher up on the column, looking more like his Gangrel lover than the Ventrue prince. "The others?" His voice returns to normal.
Jim wonders at the muttered comment, but continues. "Thin Wolf we think is Daedalus. The others we can't identify... a white wolf, a spotted wolf that seemed to stay close to you, a gray wolf that seemed to radiate with anger... and a Golden wolf, who in this vision and the last, spoke to us." Jim slants a look at the pensive prince. "Who are these Kindred, Luna?"
The prince laughs at the obvious characterizations of his primogen. "The others are Kindred you haven't met, for the most part, all my primogens I believe. The white wolf is Lillie of the Toreador clan. And the gray one is obviously Cameron; he's head of the Brujah clan and 'radiate with anger' is a perfect way to describe him." He thinks for a minute before continuing.
"And Golden?" Jim is anxious to know about that one, especially. "Golden Wolf has helped us, Luna. He told me in this vision that there wasn't any fire, and to ask you about the other wolves. He said he was a friend, and said to help you any way I could."
Julian Luna's hands come from behind his back and run through his hair, a nervous habit when he's agitated or thinking. In this case, it's thinking. Hard. "Golden Wolf? My guess is that would have to be Thorne Severan, who speaks for the Tremere in the city. I'd expect him to be the one to speak to you. He has visions, too ... or experiences in the spiritual plane, he calls them."
Jim thinks hard, too. [Thorne... Tremere... if we could just talk to him sometime... he might know why this is happening.] "Luna, there was something else that really disturbs me. In the vision, I was there as a Warrior, dressed in the jungle fatigues I'd worn back in Peru. That's not so unusual, but lately I have been there as the black jaguar." He shakes his head, feeling strange about this. "In this vision, however, I was there with the jaguar. Not *as* the jaguar. For some reason we were separate. Golden told me if I understood the significance of meeting a Stranger Wolf, I'd know what that meant, being apart from the jaguar." This is very disturbing, a disquiet in the Sentinel that he can't describe.
Sensing a slight change in Ellison's mood, a subtle increase in his pulse perhaps, Luna moves toward the Sentinel, touching him lightly on the arm. "Slow down, Jim. You're losing me," he says calmly. "I'm not real familiar with visions, per se. Maybe I can arrange for you to talk with Thorne in person."
Jim nods, taking a deep breath. The touch on his arm is reassuring. Without his Guide present, the touch helps. "Thanks, Luna, I would like that." Then he stares up into the darkened trees to the side of the portico. "Why is this happening? I feel like I'm losing my mind."
Julian recalls how Archon had stopped the rage inside him so often. [It couldn't hurt.] He places his other hand over Jim's heart, under the jacket, and presses against the chest. "Allow your heart to slow down. Focus on its beating." He lowers his voice slightly, not attempting to mesmerize the Sentinel, merely focus him. "You're not losing your mind. You're caught up in the Kindred world."
Jim blinks - for a moment Julian Luna's voice has settled into Guide tones, so like what Blair employs to help him adjust his senses. Meeting the Ventrue's eyes, Jim concentrates and allows the touch to center him, calm him. He feels his heartrate steadying. Jim swallows, his throat tight. "Caught up. But Blair and I are mortal. Why are we being drawn into your world like this?"
"I don't know," the prince replies, his voice returning to a more normal level. He hold his hand steady against Ellison's chest, feeling the heartbeat as it drops, soaking in the warmth of human flesh through the fabric of the polo shirt. "Fate? Destiny? If you believe in such things." He focuses on the Sentinel's eyes, drawn into a sea of blue. "Fate isn't always such a bad thing."
Jim sighs, then lays his hand on top of the one over his heart. "Fate... what is my fate, do you think, Luna? Except to be a Sentinel... I am that and will always be that..."
Julian Luna is drawn to this man, physically and psychically, drawn to the mystery of the Sentinel. "Perhaps your fate is to be Sentinel ... and Kindred," Julian muses, allowing himself the momentary fantasy of Embracing this one. [I would have you be Ventrue.]
The lips of the Sentinel part in surprise. "Kindred, me?" Some of his brain protests hotly - [No way could I be a...a... *vampire*!] while other parts persist - [There is far more to being Kindred than that. Are they not indeed *kindred* to you already with senses so like yours?] He also wonders if he would have the same troubles with his senses as he does now - zoning, sensory spikes, etc.
Julian dares to move his hand up the sleeve of Ellison's jacket, caressing a bit. "You would make an exceptional Kindred, Jim, and I'd be honored to have you a Ventrue." [That's putting it mildly. Shut down your passion, Luna. Focus on calm reassurance.]
Jim gulps, nodding. "I felt the connection to 'Silver' on the spirit plane, Luna. I don't understand it, but I feel it. I need..." He pauses, for his heartbeat has picked up again. "I need to know more, a great deal more... before I can make any sort of decision about that. But if I do..." Jim can't believe he is saying this, but it FEELS right. "If I do, it will be Ventrue." He closes his eyes briefly, then whispers, "It would have to be you, Silver..."
"Ssshh," Julian whispers, once again pressing against Jim's heart. "I would let no other touch you."
Jim's ice blue eyes fly open, looking down into the dark eyes of the Ventrue. He nods, accepting this much. And the relief he feels is palpable.
"You have seen so little of what being Kindred really means." Julian Luna turns over the hand he holds on Ellison's heart and takes the Sentinel's hand in his own, palm up. He pulls Ellison's wrist to his lips and kisses the pulse point, sensing the flow of blood beneath the flesh, careful not to let his fangs touch skin. "Would you let me show you?" comes the raspy whisper against Jim's flesh.
Jim's first impulse, as adrenaline floods his system, the thought of the Kindred's 'Kiss' creating a rush pulsing through him, is to pull away abruptly. His heart pounds again, his skin feels cold. "What... what do you mean? How?" He holds still, though the automatic flight response is still strong.
Julian senses the instinct to pull away and kisses the wrist again, this time more comforting than provoking. He looks up, meeting Jim's eyes directly. "I would taste you. I'd make a small cut here," he says, running his finger along the vein at Jim's wrist. "Either with my fingernail or ... a fang." He gives his companion a moment to digest that thought.
The Sentinel gulps, seriously worried here. "You're losing me, Luna. What... what's this about? You want to, what, slit my wrists?!" His voice rises in panic, but he's more bewildered than anything. "Taste me, why? I don't understand... feed from me?" He wants to understand, wants desperately to know more, but this is scaring him.
[Don't rush. Calm. Easy.] "It's the best way for you to start understanding Kindred. And start trusting us ... trusting me," Luna explains. "No, I don't want to slash your wrists. Nothing quite so melodramatic. And I wouldn't *feed* from you. I'd merely taste you. The Kiss, as we call it ... that act of tasting another's blood ... is an integral part of what we are. You'd feel no more pain than ... say, cutting yourself on a kitchen knife." His voice is calm, with little sign of emotion. "I wouldn't hurt you."
Jim nods, subsiding, but he has more questions. "What does it do... to taste a mortal's blood? Other than it being your food..." He can't hold back a shiver at THAT thought. "I want to trust you, Luna, just help me out here..."
"For the Kindred, it's a way to savor mortal emotions, feelings. It doesn't bind you to me in any way. For the mortal ..." Julian starts, then sighs, remembering when he was first tasted. "For the mortal, it can be ecstasy beyond imagination." He lightly tightens his grip on Jim's wrist. "Tell me what you fear, Jim? Liking it? Wanting more? Tell me your fears, and I'll separate myth from reality."
The Sentinel stares at the hand gripping his wrist. "Ecstasy? Just for letting you taste my blood?" He is stunned. 'So this is some sort of psychic thing you get through my blood, is that what you're saying?" [I'll tell you my fears when you're done telling me chapter and verse,] Jim thinks.
[Frank was a much easier sale than this.] Julian smiles to himself. "Yes. Sort of a psychic thing. It's really hard to explain, to put into words." Julian takes a deep breath. "Can you explain what happens when you kiss Blair? The connection you make? I doubt it. The *Kiss* is like that, a kiss between lovers that transcends time and space and ... like your body shutting down for one intense orgasm." [Aw, hell, this may not be worth it.]
Jim nods. "Been there... it's how our own psychic connection developed, we think." He smiles a bit shyly. "But you and I are not lovers... yet I think I do understand why you want to do this with me. This will help me understand what being Kindred means a little?"
"No, we aren't lovers." [Not that I'd be adverse to that.] "It was the quickest analogy I could think of to explain something that's so simplistically complex," Julian muses. "It's a starting point for you understanding us ... the safest option." [The other way would be for you to taste my blood, which wouldn't be the best.]
The mortal takes a deep breath, and finds himself leaning closer to the Ventrue. "Then, if it will help me to understand what you are, and it's safe..." He looks deep into the dark eyes of the Kindred again. "Then I want it. I want this." Having made the decision finally, he begins to relax. [And it doesn't hurt at all that this will be pleasurable,] Jim thinks, feeling somewhat aroused. [Not at all.]
"I'm glad," the Ventrue says, caressing the Sentinel's wrist. "I could cite you chapter and verse of Kindred history and law and clan differences ... and I'd be happy to, well into the night. But this is something you need to know, need to experience." [And I get the added pleasure of tasting you.] Julian's eyes light up at the anticipation.
Jim nods in agreement. "I trust you... but I would like those chapters on Kindred history sometime as well." He smiles, feeling the return of warmth for this Ventrue prince.
Not giving the Sentinel a chance to back out, Julian turns and presses his back against Jim's body. He pulls Jim's arm to his mouth, kissing its palm and then the wrist, his movements slow and steady.
Jim shivers from the bold, sure movement of the Kindred, a huff of air escaping him as lips touch his palm and wrist. Unconsciously he reaches his hand around to steady himself, placing it on Julian's chest. His nostrils fill with Ventrue scent, recognized and welcomed now.
Julian pushes the jacket sleeve farther up the forearm, a precaution against ruining it with bloodstains. Then he presses back against the broad chest at his back, nestling into the hold Jim has on him. [Nice. Very nice.] He takes a deep breath, centering himself. [OK, Luna. Control. Taste a little. And if you're very good, you'll get to taste him again.] The smirk goes unseen. He kisses the wrist again, this time lightly trailing his tongue along the vein running across it.)
The Sentinel, his heart pounding, has to remind himself to breathe. The touch of Luna's tongue sends a bolt of unexpected desire through him - and Luna hasn't even cut him yet! Jim holds the Ventrue against him tighter, lending heat to the cooler body before him. Hastily he checks his sensory dials, and adjusts "touch". He does NOT need a spike right now.
Julian knows full well the effect this kind of foreplay has on his Kindred lovers; he imagines that with Jim's heightened senses, it's doing about the same thing. He's savoring it, having the power to drive another wild with desire. On the next kiss, he allows a single fang to rake lightly along the flesh, no more than as if the tip of a pin had been used. It draws a crimson flush to the surface. The scent forces Julian to temper his mental control. [Slow. Easy. What will your blood taste like, Ellison?]
Jim gasps softly but his touch dial is up enough to register that his skin wasn't pierced. [You wicked, sensual beast,] Jim thinks with delight, shivering minutely with the anticipation. He desperately doesn't want to embarrass himself before the Ventrue, so he reigns in his reactions. [DAMN! He's every bit Blair's equal for being the tease...] It's all Jim can do to keep from grinding his erection into Luna's ass. And by now, he is THERE.
Julian repositions a little to the left, getting a better grip on Jim's wrist and, by wonderful circumstance, grinds his ass into Jim's groin. [Ah, I think I'm making progress.] He rakes the single fang a little more deeply down Jim's forearm, making a tiny incision that pierces the skin and draws forth a rivulet of blood. [Not quite yet, Ellison. Almost there.] He licks along the length of the incision.
The incision pulls forth another sharp gasp from Jim, a pinprick to most mortals, but feeling like a definite slice to him. The scrape of the Ventrue's tongue against his sensitive skin, wiping away the blood, sends an instant pulse of surprising energy dancing through him, just a tiny jetting of sensation. Stunned, he freezes, amazed and thrilled all at once.
Julian feels Jim's body adapt to the new sensation. He grins, wickedly. [You're ready.] Quickly, holding Jim's wrist steady with both hands, the prince bites into the flesh, sinking his fangs in around the incision. He concentrates solely on sucking the crimson liquid that's pouring from the severed vein. [Ahh. Yes.]
The tall body of the Sentinel jerks suddenly. The bite sends a spike of pain that splinters somewhere in his brain into a shower of sparks that attempt to melt his nerves, fry them out! Something of a moan issues from his lips as the psychic energy ripples from immortal to mortal, sending him into a full-body frisson of pure pleasure.
[Delicious. Sensual. Worth the wait, Ellison.] Like the myriad sparkles of a magical aura, there is a quality to the blood that Julian can't quite grasp. Everything about it is just 'over the edge.' Passion, colors, sounds. The Ventrue hasn't ever experienced any Kiss just like this. He drinks in the blood, filling his mouth with the liquid, savoring its taste before it washes down his throat.
Jim rides the river of sensation, lost in the bliss and orgasmic ripples through his body, magically remaining on his feet, now leaning against the shorter body of the prince.
The weight of the Sentinel's body against his taps into the control portion of Julian's brain, that part buried in the recesses of passion, and he realizes that he's quickly moving from tasting to feeding. [Stop, Luna. Now.] He slowly extracts his fangs from Jim's flesh and begins to seal the wounds with tiny kisses and lingering licks.
At the removal of the Kindred's fangs from his wrist, the flow of psychic energy cuts off. But Jim is still locked into the aftershocks of sensation cascading through him, now shuddering for real, tiny whimpers the only sound he can make.
Satisfied that the wound is sealing with the kiss of Kindred saliva, Julian pulls Jim's arms more tightly around him and leans back, seeking to quieten the other's shudderings with his own coolness. "Ride it out, Jim," he whispers in a low voice, guiding Ellison through the anti-climax of the Kiss. "The sensation will subside gradually." His own body is awash in the psychic energies from Jim's blood, the passion still filtering through his veins.
The low, calm voice, so like Blair's Guide tones, penetrate to steady Jim on his feet, though he holds the Ventrue close still. Gradually he comes back to himself as the passion wanes... and he blinks... He cannot see, his sense of sight blown out in lieu of other, more demanding senses. Sighing, Jim tightens his arms around the other. This has happened before, with Blair. With luck, it will reset itself before he has to drive home.
Finally, Jim manages to croak, "Julian... that was... mind-blowing... God..."
Julian sighs, utterly content with the moment, the mood, the man holding him. It has been awhile since he's been the one to lean against a taller lover, and the Ventrue relishes the feel of his hair brushing against Jim's neck. "I told you it was pretty much indescribable," he says softly, bemused. [I could stay like this forever ... or at least for a few hours.] He smiles.
Jim gulps, getting his throat to work again. "And this is how it is between Kindred... not just with a mortal?"
"Yes, it's part of how it is between Kindred," Julian begins. "Only, between Kindred, it's better, richer, more pleasurable ... because it's just the starting point." He punctuates the thought by pushing into Jim's body slightly, increasing their closeness as much as he can without taking it to a different level.
"Oh, God," Jim moans, "just the starting point? Shit..." Within, his mind is still swirling. [Blair or no Blair, I could seriously want this man, want this life... shit! You canNOT go there, Ellison! But, oh, man, oh, God...] A last shuddering gasp escapes him, the final release of the last of the energies.
"You could experience that kind of passion every day," Julian tempts. "Sensations your mind has only dreamed of. It's tempting, isn't it? I know. I was mortal once, too, Jim." [I could make your life so pleasurable. I want you as much as ... don't think about it.]
"Julian..." Jim murmurs, bending his head down to his - he cannot use the more formal "Luna", not now - "Did you want the Embrace.. for this?" He swallows hard again. "God, Julian, this was incredible, but... I'm sorry, I have to look at the whole situation. I know you're not telling me your life is this idyllic."
Julian resists the urge to tilt his head slightly and kiss those lips into quiet submission, not that he's sure he could do it. [You might be the one to dominate me, Ellison.] "I wanted the Embrace for the passion. Yes. I was hungry for the passion. And I found horror in its reality." He looks out into the night sky and back through the years. "But that was because of my sire, not the Embrace ... or even being Kindred," he adds in a reassuring tone. [You're half Ventrue, already, wanting to know all the angles first.]
"Your sire? The one who Embraced you?" Jim sighs, holding still though he feels more like exploring with his hands the body in his arms. "I don't understand..."
"Yes, my sire. That's what we call the person who Embraces us. My sire was Archon; he was prince of this city for more than a century." Julian runs his hands wishfully over Jim's arms, trailing a finger along the vanishing wound. "The words sound foreign till you get used to them."
"No, I mean..." Jim is confused. "Your sire was a source of... horror?"
Julian grasps Jim's question, but he's not really ready to go there. "Yeah, to some extent. It's really a long story, complicated." He turns Jim's arm over and notices the bite is nearly gone. "Look, see I told you I wouldn't hurt you. The wound my fangs made has healed."
The Sentinel sighs, nodding. "I can feel that it's healing... thank you. But, I can't see it."
Julian turns a little in Jim's embrace so he is more directly facing him. "You can't see. Why?" His voice is a little alarmed, not knowing if this is natural or not.
Jim's eyes are unfocused, like they'd be when he's focusing entirely on another sense. "During your... 'Kiss'... it was the only sense I really didn't need. The others kind of shoved it off line in a way... hard to explain." He sighed, releasing Luna enough to let him turn all the way around, but keeping him close still. "My sight should come back in a few minutes." He raises a finger to run it along the Ventrue's neck inside the back of his collar. "Julian, thank you for the experience. It was... revealing."
Julian sighs happily at the revelation. Until Jim's finger touched his skin, he had fought back the urge to touch Jim Ellison more. But the sensation pulsing from that single finger is too much; it pushes the Ventrue over the edge. Julian's hands go to Jim's face, holding it gently steady as he leans up to kiss the Sentinel's lips. It isn't a forceful kiss, a hungering kiss, just a kiss of passion promised, waiting to be answered.
Shocked and thrilled all at once, Jim bends to the kiss, allowing it, returning it, returning the promise, then he is pulling away. "Julian," he gasps, regret in every line in his body, "I want to, I can't... I'm sorry..." Half of his brain is screaming [YES] while the other half is screaming [NOT THE HELL YET!] The Kindred's potency is a little frightening... a little much to take so soon.
[But you want it. That's what I needed to know.] Julian breathes in the night air, stepping back, content to take it slowly with the Sentinel. He is careful not to break physical contact with Ellison, not until he's sure he can see clearly again. "That's all right, Jim. I have all the time in the world to wait ... until you're ready."
Jim clasps Julian's forearms, settling down from his abrupt panic. "I have Blair to consider... he will always be first in my life. If we do this, if we become Kindred, we would have to... together. We cannot separate, ever. Our bond is that strong." He takes a couple of deep breaths. Blinking again, he realizes his sight is back. "I can see again."
"I would *never* seek to separate you and Blair," Julian swiftly reassures. "I know what it is to love someone so intensely, to have that strong a bond. Becoming Kindred would not break it. I would see to that. I doubt you could both be Ventrue; Blair's not our type. But a little cross-clan mingling is the norm around here."
The Sentinel nods, slowly releasing his grasp on the prince. "You and Cash - Ventrue and Gangrel." Jim finds he can smile suddenly. "You do know, don't you? Blair is my Guide, my partner, my soulmate. Thanks... for understanding." He sighs, a tremendous weight lifting.
"Someone you'd walk through the fires of hell for," Julian smiles. "Yeah, I think I understand." The prince stretches his body, absently-mindedly running his fingers through his hair.
Jim flashes on the silver wolf stretching like that, so primal, but it's a comfort to him now, no longer a threat. He glances up at the moon, wondering... "I should go... again, thanks." Awkwardly Jim leans in to kiss Julian briefly on the cheek, a reverence he wants to afford him.
Julian would blush if he could at the gesture. "Let me walk you out," he nearly purrs with contentment.
"By all means," Jim sighs, a hell of a lot more relaxed than when he came.
"Back to the reason you came here in the first place," Julian starts as they walk toward the side of the house, "I'll have Thorne call you and discuss those wolves from your vision. Sound good?"
"Thorne," Jim echoes. [Golden Wolf!] "Yes, I need to learn why I'm having these visions. They're.. disturbing. I hope he can help me."
"I think he can." Julian puts a hand on Jim's shoulder. "I trust him, so you can. Confide in him. Let him do what he can to help you sort things out."
The Sentinel's smile back at the Prince is bright enough to light the night.
The End
