#guildias

 Guildias: Guildias felt inclined to offer his arm like a gentleman, but refrained. A handful of reasons steadied his gait, keeping his gaze toward the oncoming crowd; Sophia guarded in his peripheral.

"My first dwelling was New York. Slept through the journey north. Overwhelming is putting it lightly, isn't it?"

 Sophia: New York. She had been there a handful of times. Just not… recently.

Sophia glanced back at him and nodded. “It’s a lot,” she replied. “Everything is magnified. I can hear so much more…” Her breath ran out, and she stopped talking, bracing herself for the eventual inhale that would come with his next question’s answer.

 Guildias: As much as she would prefer silence, the questions would continue in a steady trickle. Acclimation was not a push off a cliff, but wadding deeper into open waters.

"I have a surprise for you," he said, slowing to a stop with the rest of the crowd, waiting for the cross light.

He turned to her, and offered his hand.

"A little place for the quiet."

 Sophia: Her pale frame had started to shake with hunger as the sound of the hearts became too much for her. His hand brought her back, and she took it gratefully.

There was a steadying strength to it. She couldn’t hurt him like the humans around them. All she had to do was focus on him…

She squeezed his hand with inhuman strength to anchor herself and took in a breath through her mouth.

“Yeah? Where?”

 Guildias: His gaze wouldn't stray for as long as she required an anchor. As the signal changed, he laced their fingers and continued across the street.

The historic district was quiet this time of night. Would make following difficult, which was why it had been chosen specifically. Of all of the great old buildings in Chicago, the ten-story, 750,000-square-foot library had been the ideal choice.

A petite woman in a beige pencil dress and gold shoes slowly paced the back entrance, lipstick-stained cigarette between her fingers. She smiled in greeting.

"Thought you weren't coming."

"The walk was needed."

Sophia's hand remained in his as he leaned forward, kissing the air to each cheek.

"Sophia, I'd like to introduce you to Mackenzie Margaret."

She offered her hand before he could continue. "I heard you needed some respite. George knows you're coming. Just put things back when you're done with them."

 Sophia: Sophia’s jaw dropped. Her discomfort was momentarily forgotten, and she barely held her attention on the human’s heart.

Until she offered her hand. Sophia clenched her teeth, and her grip on Guildias tightened even more. “It’s nice to meet you,” she managed.

Subtlety wasn’t even on her mind. She was too busy holding herself together. Sophia slowly extended the hand she wasn’t using towards the woman. Her touch sent an electric jolt through the contact, and Sophia pulled back slightly too soon to be considered proper manners.

 Guildias: Mackenzie glanced up at Guildias, brow arched and dropped in a single fluid motion.

"Wish I could stay and talk. I have a thing to get to." She put out her cigarette against the brick, and Guildias held out his hand. He wouldn't have her flicking the butt into the alley as when they'd first met.

"Next time."

"Nice to meet you," she called over her shoulder, hurrying out towards the street to hail a taxi.

The door was held open for the fledgling.

 Sophia: Sophia stepped through the door, and she let out a sigh as it closed behind them. Everything was muted. The sounds, the scents, everything from the city had felt like too much.

For the first time that night, Sophia asked a question of her own.

“Does she know?” Sophia asked softly.

 Guildias: "No," he answered, slipping from his coat. "As far as she is concerned, I am a historian, and you are my friend's niece. This library is yours tonight. You will only hear the heartbeat of the security guard in these halls. If you'd like, we may use him for practice."

 Sophia: Sophia visibly relaxed as they moved through the lobby. She felt at home here. How often had she spent in the library at the medical school? And before that.

She nodded, reminded of their original purpose. “Convenient, I guess.”

7:46 PM] Guildias: "Your bite is not the same as mine. I'd like to see its intensity, and your composure."

They entered a dimly lit room. Rows upon rows of deep oak tables and matching chairs, alit by matching banker's lamps. Guildias took a seat in one of the chairs, placing his coat in front of him.

"You've watched Vlad and his people dine. I'd like to know your perspective."

 Sophia: Sophia watched him move, taking in the surroundings once he sat. She remained standing, hands behind her back as she considered the question.

“It’s a drug,” she replied simply. “Like heroin…” She swallowed. “Worse, though. Or better, depending on who you’re asking.”

It was a text book, armored answer. Facts were basic. Facts were safe.

 Guildias: His eyes never left her. He'd seen this room before, not her reaction. Leaning back in his seat, legs crossed, she had his undivided attention. Without hunt and without spar, her lessons were yet in stasis.

"Is that all?" he asked, calmly. "Nothing more than peddling, or a means to control? Were you fed before the turn?"

 Sophia: Sophia looked around the room once more. It was dimly lit, but she was sure it was brighter to her now than it would have been before.

“No,” she said. “To be honest, I…” She moved, sitting down now to stall more than anything. His gaze left her feeling like she was under a microscope. She looked back at him across the table.

“I was kept very sheltered from anything happening. At least— happening to me.” She hesitated, pulling at a loose thread on the long sleeve of her shirt. “I still don’t know why. Just something about my grandfather.”

She peeked back up at him, and her fingertips ghosted along the scar on her neck. “I barely remember… what it felt like. I was…” Her eyes closed, and she tried to push it away.

“I feel like you have more experience firsthand with Vlad than I do when it comes to his approach to feeding with the goal to keep the person alive” She referred, of course, to the night they met. She still remembered the women. The rapture in their eyes as they experienced the difference in Guildias’s bite. She doubted they had lived much longer after that night.

 Guildias: Like a newborn kept in the dark, disallowed the opportunity to walk. She should have been prepared. If her fate was as inevitable as he believed, then there was no excuse for this innocence. It was neglect, as far as he was concerned. So few were given proper initiation. He considered, watching her flinch from her scar, whether or not to elaborate his own beginning.

"As simple as self-control," he explained. "Do not take every last drop, unless exsanguination is your intent. There is no reason beyond starvation, frenzy, or revenge. The last is arguable, but satisfying."

He considered how best to explain, and sat up.

"Make yourself comfortable. This library is yours. Excuse me."

He would return within minutes, a 16-ounce bottle of water in hand.

"I want you to hold this, feel the weight of it."

 Sophia: Sophia stood not long after the door closed behind him. She was further inside the room, off towards one of the windows at the far end.

She was looking out when Guildias returned, and as she took the bottle carefully— it sat strangely in her hand, unnatural— her curiosity as to what he was up to was not the only thing going through her head.

“Should have known we weren’t alone,” she said softly, nodding to where Simon stood in the black shadows of the trees beyond the glass. A human would not have seen him, but she did.

But then she turned her attention back to the water bottle to do as he instructed, and she deliberately stepped away from the window, back out of view.

 Guildias: "Is it any wonder," he commented, leaning his weight against the nearest table, crossing his ankles. Hands came to rest in his lap. "There is trust, and then there is... trust," he smiled.

"That is the volume mortals are allowed to donate. To my knowledge, you are able to dine beyond vitae. Have you tried?"

 Sophia: Sophia looked from him back to the bottle. It never seemed like this much when she started…

“Liquids. Nothing solid. I haven’t tried though. I… haven’t wanted to.”

 Guildias: "Liquids," he echoed. "I want you to drink all of that at once. Please."

 Sophia: Sophia watched him for a moment, if only to make sure he was serious. She felt the weight of it in her hand, reached forward to unscrew the top with clumsy fingers. Relearning things that her natural undead instincts didn’t take care of came at the most inconvenient times.

The water was not the same as blood. There wasn’t any trigger in the back of her brain… it was all… human.

 Guildias: His gaze remained steady. Waiting for the final drop. Having seen Vlad and his associates drink on several occasions, the assumption she could consume safely was a safe gamble.

"Abundance without satiation. The weight you now feel in your stomach, memorize it. With that much in your core, lick their wound and kiss their cheek. They can offer you nothing more without illness."

Sophia: Sophia nodded. “Water isn’t the same as blood, though,” she said softly. “It’s… I start and I don’t know how to stop. Did you ever… feel that?”

Guildias: "No, it's not." He switched ankles, glancing down.

"I've taken lives I shouldn't have. I've gone too far out of starvation, frustration, and rage. That is why I ask you to memorize the weight. You might still be hungry after feeding, but a hunt doesn't end after one throat."

Sophia: Sophia sucked in a breath and nodded. They were on similar levels, then, at least. He had killed too.

“They said I had to kill in the first year. To make sure I was strong. Full feeds, full lives…” It felt clumsy to say it out loud. “But I’ve been thinking about it from a scientific perspective. That’s over… I’ve… transitioned. And I don’t…” She raised her chin a little, tossed blonde hair out of her eyes. “I won’t take more than I have to. I refuse. Vlad looks at it like he’s spoiling me letting me eat as much as I want. But I…”

She shook her head. “I want to be in control.”

Guildias: "You should be taught control. The sooner the better for your composure. Less mess. Less visits with your conscience."

Slowly, Guildias sat up.

"Let us test your hunting skills, and restraint. Upstairs is a man. Early fifties; wife and child, grandchildren. If you kill him, we'll never be welcome back to this library."

Sophia: She thought he might feel that way. Chalk it up to intuition, a hunch. But she still remembered how he had fed on those women when she was human.

There had been more there. More than what The Family preached.

She could hear it now, faint footsteps and a fainter heartbeat—perhaps he was closer. Just over their heads making a round. She cast her gaze upward, as if she could see the human through the floorboards.

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

Guildias: "Yes?" He desired a verbal response. If only to gauge the truth of her affirmation.

"A body requires cleanup. Teppes is merely a thumb to suckle. Your future relies on your accountability. Your future begins with George. Call to him."

Sophia: Sophia looked back at him at the first question. “Yes,” she replied.

What he said next, she knew. Teppes society frowned on a family member that did not provide above and beyond for a fledgeling in their care. She could have had a few more years without the accountability.

But she wanted it now. The sooner she didn’t have to depend on them, the better.

She nodded at the second order, thinking about the best way to go about it. “H-hello?” She called. “Is someone here?” The footsteps stopped, made their way back to where she assumed stairs were…

Guildias: Another reason for encouraging water. Something to aid in the filling of her stomach. Perhaps they might walk out of this library without a corpse in tow.

The next moment Sophia looked back, she would find herself alone. Her charge was still there. Only now leaned against the curtainless window, cloaked in vampiric magic. There was now ample space for the fledgling to do as she pleased.

The guard, aged as Guildias had stated, peeked from the second floor. Rosy deep skin covered in freckles and scattered moles.

"You need somethin', honey?"

Sophia: Sophia wouldn’t deny the panic she felt when Guildias was no longer at her side. The distraction was enough to distract her from the sound of the human’s heart— if only for a moment.

“Run before I walk, huh?” she muttered to herself. She hoped he would hear it.

“Um… yeah,” she said. “I um… heard something. Back that way. It… Is there a chance someone else is in here?”

Guildias: "You'll be fine," Guildias whispered at her shoulder. His presence would only deter progress. In the name of seduction, should she aim for such tactic, he had to be absent.

"Well, you got that fella wit cha. Right?" He looked both ways over the white painted railing. "I be right down, miss."

Sophia: “He took off somewhere. I don’t know…” Another double meaning, and she hoped it didn’t go missed. “I just know I heard something. Towards the back.”

She nodded to the far corner where shadows lurked and anything could potentially spook a young woman.

Guildias: "Probably your man," he muttered. Still, duty was duty, and chivalry lingered like a ghost. The old man made his way down the hardwood stairs, ready to explore the blanket of darkness with his flashlight.

Sophia: She felt like she was flailing. She had no clue how to proceed in a stealthy way, not like this. But Guildias was close… not exactly a safety net, but surely she wasn’t alone.

Sophia took in a breath, stepped back against the darkness of the book cases as the guard moved. He was warm, and she felt it as he passed.

“Do you see anything?” She waited on him to take a step past her… before she reached for him. He paused, turning to her in confusion… before she lunged forward and drove her fangs into his neck— not as gentle as she wanted to…

Guildias: Guildias' steps were silent behind her. Barely an arm's length as he observed her tactic. It was indeed messy. As expected of someone so young. Her options were limited on purpose. He wanted to gauge her creativity, no matter the failure.

If her bite was enough to subdue, he would remain in waiting, counting the seconds to forty-five, before sliding his hand up her spine and over her shoulder.

"Lick the wound," he whispered in her ear, once more visible.

Sophia: The flashlight fell to the ground with a sharp clang, and the guard wasn’t far behind. Sophia barely heard his soft gasp as her venom soaked in before she lost herself.

It didn’t feel like forty-five seconds had passed. It felt like she had blinked. And there was Guildias. For the briefest moment, his touch wasn’t enough to bring her back. She was going to keep going— it was so easy, how could she have ever thought it was hard—

”Lick the wound.”

Reason. There it was.

It physically pained her to stop, to pull back and expose herself to the taste once more to heal rather than finish him. Sophia let out a soft whine, pulling back before disappearing in a flash to distance herself from the human’s crumpled form. His heart still beat, though he wasn’t conscious.

“Fuck,” she muttered, wiping at her lips with the back of her hand. Crimson spread across her porcelain cheek, and the smell of it made her want more. She shook her head to try to clear it, felt her fangs recede back into the gums.

Guildias: The man was lifted with relative ease. Placed in the nearest seat, his head on the table, as though asleep. He would live, however confused and shaken up. A strange dream and a fainting episode, perhaps. Poor man needed a vacation.

His concern was Sophia, now that the mess had been tidied. The distance between them was closed with a strolling gait, reaching slowly for her face with both hands. He would tug her blond strands behind her ear.

"Very good. Now, let's get you cleaned up."

Sophia: His action had such a fatherly manner to it, and it was enough to calm her even more. The red in her eyes flickered back to the black depths of enlarged pupils. She shuddered as the fresh blood coursed through her, closed her eyes a moment. She could have been human again with roses under those cheeks… save the blood on her face.

“He’s okay?” She whispered, clutching at Guildias’s forearm.

Guildias: "He will be. There's still a heartbeat. You didn't take enough to take additional action." He turned his body enough for her to see the slumped figure. Out like a light. Not everyone slept so soundly. He had witnessed enough with the Teppes to know this was a combination of her potence and his age.

"Let's get you to the wash room."

Sophia: Sophia looked past Guildias, towards the sleeping man. She felt a wave of relief amplify the euphoria she felt, and she couldn’t stop the big smile on her cheeks as she looked back to Guildias.

It was ok. He was ok.

She’d done it. She’d stopped in time.

His comment brought her back to reality, and she looked down at the blood on her hand, fought the urge to lick it clean. “Yeah… yeah… probably a good idea…”

Guildias: The rounded pillared entryway offered nothing but darkness on the other side. A long hallway of old tile to echo their shoes, and the muffle of Chopin from within the security guard's office. He had been the only one, for now. Hours before his replacement arrived. Time and then some to take everything at Sophia's leisure.

The women's bathroom door was held by a single long arm.

"I'll be here."

Sophia: She made quick work of cleaning. Or rather, as quick as she could. The consistency of blood was still foreign when it came to cleaning it.

She watched the red mix with the water spiraling down the drain, let the warmth of the water sink in.

She came back out when she was put back together.

She offered him a small smile.

“Where to now?”

Guildias: Deep brown eyes roamed from the top of her head to her shoulder. Long fingers reached slowly for some hair on her shoulder, checking what was only a play of shadows. No, she was perfectly put together.

"We're going on another hunt."

Unless she was tired and ready to sound the retreat. He watched her, waiting for an objection. With or without one, he was heading towards the back exit.

Sophia: There was an urgency she felt in her chest, a sort of clawing that the first taste of blood had exacerbated. She needed more— wanted more.

And nothing human compared to the pull of the feeling.

So she didn’t object (hadn’t led her astray yet) and followed him like a dutiful student.

Guildias: Chicago was one of the quieter cities at this time of night. Nothing compared to silence, but nothing compared to Manhattan, either.

"How did that feel, pulling away from his throat?"

Sophia: She felt the night air on her skin, chilled against her cheeks now that they were warmed with fresh blood. His question brought her back, and she looked back up at him. “Wrong,” she said honestly. “Until I did it. Does that make sense?”

Guildias: "Makes sense," he agreed. "The more you do it, the easier it will become. Nothing is so simple for one so young."

Sophia: “You’re not kidding,” she said thoughtfully. Throw in family politics, and she felt like she’d finally found the eye of the storm with Guildias.

Guildias: His elbow was held out in offering.

"Asking if you wanted this is meaningless. It's happened, and nothing will reverse it. But I'm going to ask you to paint me a picture. What you see in ten years."

Sophia: Sophia took his offered arm. The truth of it was she hadn’t given much thought to the future. Not when the days alone seemed so insurmountable.

“I’ll… probably have a job. Working for Vlad,” she said after a moment of thought. “I doubt I’ll be returning to my original plan.” Sophia bit her lip and sidestepped a puddle on the sidewalk. “It’s hard to be optimistic,” she added. “I’m sorry.”

Guildias: He gave a noncommittal noise, gently moving with her as she dodged some shallow water.

"His expectations will shift. You'll shift. You have to. But you shouldn't hold a funeral for your future. Nothing but death and taxes, as they say."

Sophia: That managed to bring a small smile to her lips. She didn’t allow herself the chance to think too much more about his own noncommittal optimism. She couldn’t. Not yet.

“Well, I’m already dead and I highly doubt I’ll be paying taxes anytime soon.” She glanced up at him with a shy little smile. “But thank you. You’re the first bit of sunshine I’ve had since…” She trailed off there, but she assumed the meaning was clear.

Guildias: "I've never been called sunshine in ever. You keep that a secret, Miss Sophia."

Sophia: She felt like he was humoring her, a fatherly little tease, and she just looked down and smiled a little wider.

She looked forward. “So. Where are we going now?”

Guildias: "We're going to find some of the inebriated ready to make poor choices. I don't have to ask if you're ready for more."

Sophia: Sophia nodded. “I’ve done a little of that. Not much.”

Guildias: "Taste the inebriated?"

Sophia: “Yeah. Henry took me out for it. Once.”

Guildias: "How did that turn out?"

Sophia: She smiled a little at the thought. “The blood was different. The alcohol… gave it a tang. And I felt it too.”

Guildias: "The bottle will never be as potent, if effective at all. You'll have your fill of surprises."

A memory whelmed him to smile.

"When I first awoke, my first taste was Xanax, microplastics, and weed."

Sophia: She glanced back at him. “What was it like for you?”

Guildias: "Torpor?"

Sophia: She’d meant the experience of feeding, but the word caught her attention. “I meant the feeding. But Torpor too…”

Guildias: "It's... sex, and torpor is the sleep you have afterward. Waking isn't as pleasant. Feels like oversleeping after an illness."

Sophia: “I see,” she said softly. She remembered, faintly, seeing him feed when she was human. The women he had had were long dead by this point… “how long did you sleep?”

Guildias: "Mm, some twenty years. It's not true sleep. A part of you is aware. It gives you time to organize your thoughts."

Sophia: She nodded in thought. “Like meditation. Kind of.”

Guildias: "Yes." The hundreds of heartbeats had become ambient static in the background. Nothing new since awakening, but easier to ignore now.