(no subject)

[somepoorsoul]

The night is damp and chilly for May, but that has not stopped the university’s young revelers from stumbling about in drunken celebration, even past midnight. Athos only ever comes this far north to visit the stables, and it is strange to be here so late at night, amongst the older, more scattered houses, stuffed full of students nine months out of the year. Outside the university, neighborhoods fall away to countryside fairly quickly; it is no surprise that so many could so easily go missing.

Athos has spoken little during their late-night trek to the edge of campus, thoughts focused, as best he can, on the task at hand. Is he glad that Porthos agreed to come along, or nervous? He still trusts Porthos with his life, and always will, but he fears that the man has been guilted or coerced into this venture. Believing what he does (knowing what he does), why would he follow Athos anywhere?

But they are here now. Athos leans against a lamppost that leaves him half-illuminated. Celebrants are now stumbling home in ones and twos, and fewer of them seem out and about. If the vampires intend to strike tonight, it will likely be soon, now that most students have gone home, leaving the more foolish (and the more drunk) to venture into the darkness alone and vulnerable. He glances at Aramis, their "bait" for the night, and then, briefly, meets Porthos' gaze. “Still up for this?" he asks them both.

Comments

[somepoorsoul]

“Though I do suggest you limit your killing to vampires. Things might get messy otherwise.” Athos’ hand rests on the hilt of his sword, eyes alert. A tree rustles, but it’s only a bird taking flight. But then he sees it: the slightest movement of a shadow only a few feet away.

He draws his sword. “Here’s your chance, Aramis!"

[afineseamstress]

As ever, the scrape of Athos' sword as it leaves its sheathe sets a fire in Aramis' blood, and he turns, hesitating only long enough to see the razor like teeth as the new creature emerges. It is a male, its body slight yet as strong as iron, and Aramis' breath leaves him in a whuff as he is grabbed by his shirt and flung deeper into the shadows. In less than a breath the creature is on him, but in that time Aramis has drawn a short blade, its hilt a large crucifix heavy enough to wield as a cudgel if he chooses, but for now Aramis prefers the sharp flat of it.

In the time it takes for the creature to recoil, Aramis is on his feet and plunging the dagger into its heart, deep enough that the crucifix catches on the vampire's skin with a pop and a hiss.

[du_vallon]

Porthos' blood is up and his tension high, but he stays back to give Aramis his chance to fight and kill the vampire, proved right in his faith when Aramis has no trouble at all vanquishing the thing. His smile of pride is there amidst a slightly worried look as he drifts closer to check for any hidden injuries.

"All good?" he asks, of both Aramis and Athos.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos trusts Aramis to defend himself swiftly, but when the vampire attacks, he draws forward with his sword drawn, ready to back him up if need be. Sometimes these vampires are fierce enough that even one of them requires two men - or more - to bring down. But by the time he reaches Aramis’ side, the vampire is dead at Aramis’ feet. With a curve of a smile, he claps Aramis on the shoulder.

“I think we’re on the right track."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis runs a hand over his head, covering his wince at the knot he finds by the removal of a leaf from his locks with a flourish. When all the flying about he's done tonight, he's fortunate he has a very hard head.

"That was lucky," he says, "Catching one alone. We have to expect any others to be more organized if this is indeed their hunting grounds."

[du_vallon]

Porthos is keeping a weather eye over his shoulder for more movement. "Are we going onwards? Or is that good for one night?" he asks, his blood still up, but at the same time, he doesn't want to risk their luck and put themselves in terrible danger.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos returns his sword to its sheathe. “I believe the plan was to find the nest.” He looks from Aramis to Porthos, his gaze settling on the second man; uncertainty flickers briefly in his eyes. He still is not sure how much Porthos wants to be here, and how much he has come under some perceived duress. “If that is still amenable."

[afineseamstress]

"Quite amenable," says Aramis lest Porthos let the silence hang. "I mean to get my razor's worth of dead vampires tonight." He claps Porthos' shoulder, rubbing those tense muscles through the leather. "And I've only seen the pair of you in action once. That is not nearly enough trouble."

[du_vallon]

Porthos affords Aramis a grateful smile and nod towards Athos. "Don't worry, I'm still in. Didn't know if we were drawing this out for a few days is all," he says, seeing as he's not entirely sure Athos isn't using the hunt as his excuse to be around them, since he's avoiding them the rest of the time.

[somepoorsoul]

That uncertainty returns to Athos' eyes, but then he nods in reply. The woods are once again quiet, and the path they have been following peters out not far ahead. They can only hope their assumptions are correct and this is the way to the nest. With another nod, Athos urges his companions on.

[afineseamstress]

Finding himself at the rear again, Aramis returns his blade to its sheathe, resisting the urge to kiss the crucifix as he does so. They are macabre weapons for a macabre task, but to Aramis the blade and the carved silver bullets he carries are holy, and he treats them with the reverence they deserve.

He is a touch distracted, thinking of pausing to properly clean the blade, and does not notice the bodies behind him until they have clasped his arms and his mouth in strong hands, removing him so swiftly from the path it's as if he were never there. Aramis makes a sound against the hand crushing his lips, feeling a strong arm around his throat for the trouble.

"Quiet," says a voice, and with a sinking in his stomach, Aramis feels a cloth draped over the tattoo on his neck, "Or the first thing we'll do is burn it off."

Aramis quiets. All he can hope for now is that Athos and Porthos have better sense than he and will meet these creatures head on and together.

[du_vallon]

Porthos continues to walk, but things are too quiet. He knows why he's quiet and he knows why Athos is, but usually Aramis fills the silence and tries to break the tension. He stops and turns, hand out to press to Athos' chest before they can get too far, glancing backwards into the darkness without finding Aramis standing there.

"Something's wrong," he says quietly, hand on his sword as he gives Athos a push towards something in the distance that looks like movement.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos turns around, his eyebrows knitting together in concern when he sees Aramis has vanished. “Aramis?” he calls the man’s name, but not too loudly, wary of capturing too much attention in these increasingly dangerous woods. He draws his sword, following after that brief flutter of movement, and hoping Porthos will do the same.

There are four figures moving together, and Athos realizes with a fast-beating heart that one is certainly Aramis. They are moving swiftly through the trees, all but dragging Aramis along towards what will certainly be some awful fate, still too far away to attack. He looks at Porthos, meeting his gaze with eyes a little wide, though he dares not speak for fear of being heard.

[du_vallon]

Porthos picks up the pace when he sees the figures, the growl in his throat a low, dangerous warning that he's about to tear someone's head off for daring to lay a finger on Aramis. He shoots Athos a look that says he's going after them, knowing Athos will understand. He opts for his pistols instead, charging after them while loading up the silver bullets, knowing that if Athos can get a hold of one of them, Porthos can take down the one holding Aramis and then they'll be left with just the one.

He just needs to get close enough for a clean shot.

[somepoorsoul]

Catching the fierce look in Porthos’ eye, Athos jerks his head in agreement to their unspoken plan. Moments later, he is charging ahead with his sword drawn, trusting Porthos to cover him as he attacks. Together, they will not allow Aramis’ captors to get far.

The band of vampires hears them come; one of them, who seems to be leading the group, turns with startling swiftness and springs at Athos with fangs gleaming. Athos leaps back to avoid capture, kicking up a clod of mud as a distraction. He uses the precious moments won to regain his balance and swing his sword in a precise arc to remove the monster’s head. But this vampire is bolder than most; with an animal laugh, it grabs Athos’ blade with its bare hands, stopping it in mid-swing. Athos realizes quickly that the vampire is stronger than he; he lets go of his sword hilt and allows the creature to throw it to the side (damn him), and then removes a silver-tipped main gauche from his belt. “Porthos!” he calls - in part crying for help, and in part seeking assurance that the other man is still standing.

[du_vallon]

Porthos hits his knees when he's close enough, a silver bullet in the back of the vampire holding Aramis hostage, which gives him opportunity to look to Athos next. He flips his pistol so his hand is on the barrel, on his feet and charging, tackling the vampire that has Athos pinned down. Once he's down, he clubs the thing just the once to give him opportunity to stagger back, cupping Athos' cheek as he searches him for injury.

When it seems all is fine, he turns wildly, trying to seek out Aramis. "Aramis?" he calls out, booming. "Didn't you say something about wanting to kill something?"

[afineseamstress]

"A moment, if you please," calls Aramis, winded. Two of the vampires are still alive, wounded but mobile, and through the ache in his head Aramis eyeballs them both, tracking their movements with two drawn pistols.

It seems to take an age for both bodies and barrels to align, but at last Aramis squeezes the trigger finger of both hands. The clearing explodes in short, deafening noise, and both vampires drop. Aramis lets his guns drop likewise to the ground and hurries forward. "Is he alright?" he asks Porthos, joining him to look over Athos.

"Are you alright?"

[somepoorsoul]

Athos lets Porthos help him to his feet, winded but otherwise whole. “Fine,” he says with enough of a smile to prove the truth of his words. “Nice shot. Both of you.” They have all barely escaped death, and Athos feels fully alive, both the danger and the light in his companions eyes warming something inside him that has gone cold of late. He returns his knife to his belt and goes to collect his sword. Finding it only a few paces away, he grimaces to see the creature’s blood clinging to it, but is glad to find it largely unharmed.

“We must be close,” he says as he wipes down the blade with his handkerchief. “And I fear they know we are coming. Do we finish them tonight, or do we wait until morning?” Earlier, he may have advised caution, but now he finds himself tempted to attack the nest at once and finish these cursed creatures.

[du_vallon]

Porthos, at this point, wants to make sure the threat is gone. If they come back, the vampires may have turned more to recharge their forces. "Only if the two of you are okay," he starts, "but yeah, I think we need to keep going and finish the job." His eyes are filled with concern as he looks at both Aramis, then Athos, knowing that they've taken a few licks tonight.

[afineseamstress]

"Perfectly fine," answers Aramis. His head will ache later, as will the various bruises already rising across his body, but Aramis pays them no more mind than he would a scratch. They are soldiers, after all, and used to far worse.

He smiles a little, hiding it in the quick press of his lips to Porthos' furrowed brow. Athos is in good spirits, and Aramis had not missed that brief moment of tenderness between him and Porthos in the fray. "Let's continue," he says, taking the front this time.

[somepoorsoul]

“We’ve come this far,” Athos agrees, though the light in his eyes proves that he is less indifferent to the decision than his mild drawl might make him sound. As Aramis charges ahead, he meets Porthos’ gaze, and this time he does smile - though it’s a quiet, uncertain thing. “I’m fine,” he assures the man, and claps his hand on his shoulder as they head off again.

[du_vallon]

He still isn't entirely sure he's comfortable with this. He's not sure they aren't lying but at the same time, he trusts them. With a lingering touch to Athos' cheek, he nods. "Let's finish this tonight."

[afineseamstress]

Ahead, Aramis can see the medical building loom, its windows just beginning to glow with lights as darkness settles. Not far beyond it is another building, not quite so tall, and as dark and silent as the other is teeming with life. Aramis doesn't recall it on the map, and when he draws closer, he realizes why. Apparently the place hasn't been in use for some time, and the outer walls are littered with graffiti. DON'T DEAD. OPEN INSIDE. says one. Haunted says another.

Aramis' brows climb to his hairline. Surely it could not be this easy? He hurries forward and around the side of the building, searching for an unboarded window or door.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos has the same instinct as Aramis, hurrying forward towards the low, unfamiliar building. He has scoured maps of the university campus; he knows them by heart, and this is certainly not one of them. Abandoned, unused, far enough away from the rest of the warm, busy buildings to be forgotten.

By all but the vampires. And, by the looks of the graffiti, a few bold youths.

He presses his lips into a thin line as he circles the building. “Not very creative, these vampires,” he observes, as though disappointed with the cleverness of the monsters they seek. “Aramis, Porthos, over here.” There’s a grate on the ground, half rusted in place, though Athos is able to pull it up with his hands. The hole it reveals is large enough for a man - if only just.

[du_vallon]

Porthos raises a brow. They could just blow the whole thing up, but if there are innocent victims down there, they'd be condemning them to death and he can't abide by that. Frowning, he knows that they're going to have to go down there. He yanks off his jacket and shoves it on the ground, outfitting himself with his silver. "I'd best go down first," he says. "Too dark for a shot, not enough room for a sword."

"This seems like a case for fists."