Normal is overrated...

Atticus: Atticus hated that this island was always giving him an unfair disadvantage. It was always a bit topsy turvy, but this was a whole new level of crazy. Fireworks everywhere, magic going awry - not that it mattered to him. Humans seemed unaffected and for that, he was grateful, happy to pretend things were normal and stay out of the way as best as he could from others. Lucky for him, it meant everyone else was preoccupied with all their own other issues, and he was just fine to find his solitude at the beach bar for a bit right before it closed, hanging out with his cheese fries and a few bottles of beer even after it was shut down for the evening. Atticus had enjoyed the solitude, but he left his weed pen in his cell, so it almost made it not worth it. So he headed back, taking the long way home along the line of the trees, kicking up sand with the toes of his sneakers in the meantime, humming to himself a song he was trying to learn on the piano, fingers twitching at his sides along with it.

The Other: "Shut the fuck up!" The Other held his head, muting Scott as he was trying to talk to him but right now The Other really didn't want to talk. Maybe it was because of the island magic, or left over anger from another Lynch being claimed - they had agreed before coming here, that the three of them would have to agree on a claim. Sure, he knew Scott had been thinking about it but it hadn't been said that it would actually happen. Even if she was gone, it still felt like pure betrayal to him, especially after he had been working so hard to behave and keep Scott out of trouble. For months he hadn't lost himself in his anger but tonight he couldn't hold it back, it hurt that Scott had gone behind his back, cause that's exactly how it felt. It felt like a perfect time to let it all out. "Just a damn alter huh? I'll show you what a damn alter can do." He grunted mostly to himself as Scott couldn't hear him right now anyway, and wouldn't have a way to fight his way back - The Other was too strong right now. He was out for blood, literally as he strolled over the island, the first victim was easily found and thrown aside, but it didn't satisfy him much. With his shirt covered in blood he reached the beach and halted when he heard a familiar humming. Cocking his head aside he watched someone come closer, the scent he knew all too well. "Jawbreaker… You shouldn't be here, you know that right?"

Atticus: A figure coming out from the trees was enough to make him halt and make him wary, but hearing the endearing nickname of ‘Jawbreaker’ made his stomach drop. Atticus gave a little chuckle. “Yeah, you are absolutely right,” he said. “I’m actually on my way back—“ His feet shuffled, feeling suddenly jittery in the vampire's presence. Was he doing something he shouldn't be? Rules seemed out the window right now. “I was out for just a little. Taking a break from the all the crazy. I have a note--” A forged note, but nevertheless. Then, with the extremely limited light around them, he squinted at the man before him, studying him as best as he could. There was a stark darkness down his front, which at first Atticus could simply excuse away at being part of his shirt, except that it went all the way up to his lips… Oh. Oh. He swallowed nervously, trying hard not to look at it or think about it out of fear his late night snack would come back up. And despite desperately wanting to back up and run, he held his ground - but that could have been him being too nervous to make him feel like his legs weren’t made of concrete. “Whatcha been up to out here?” he asked, voice wavering slightly.

The Other: The Other was trembling and it wasn't just anger, it was disappointment and even a hint of sadness all rolled into one. Scotty had failed to tell him he had made a claim of a Lynch, while knowing how much The Other would be against it. In a split second, he stood in front of Atticus, taking the note from his hand. Laughter erupted as he tore the note into pieces and suddenly slammed the boy into the sand. "What I'm up to?" He grinned, hovering over him, keeping him down on the ground by having his hand around Atticus throat. "What am I up to?! Let's see, apparently I'm up to getting lied to!" He huffed. "First Scotty, now you too, Jawbreaker? Huh?" He said close to the boy's face. "First we talked at a party, remember that? You said you wanted to be close to me… And now you lie?!" Disappointment was darkening his face. "Tell me the fucking truth. Was the whole wanting to be close to me a lie too, Jawbreaker?" His hold loosened as he sat up, straddled on Atticus so he still couldn't go anywhere.

Atticus: In fairness, Atticus should have really seen that coming. But he had other notes - the piece of paper was the least of his concerns. The vampire who body slammed him into the sand was. Panic rose in his throat and was stopped cold with the hand clenching down so hard, all Atticus could do was make a little noise of fear in response. Seeing the blood on The Other up close made him feel sick. It's all he could really stare at until the vampire started to speak and he locked eyes with him, desperately attempting to shake his head. There was a brief confusion at the mention of Scott, but he just kept pulling desperately at the hand around his throat, needing some sort of reprieve. It was painful - but also, air.

Of course Atticus remembered - that was one of his few successful lies like, ever - and his eyes went wide at The Other pointing it out. But it was weird, the vampire seemed… hurt by this. He didn't think anything he did would be able to hurt the feelings of a centuries-old being, unless this was brought on by whatever it was Scott did. Atticus sucked in as much of a breath as he could, thinking how he was going to get himself out of this, but odds are The Other would be able to tell quickly that he was lying. "I… Well--" He panicked, deciding on: "Well, we’re close now!" he rasped. "I was scared!" That second admission had him squeezing his eyes shut in preparation for what he was expecting to be a bad - and potentially dangerous for Atticus - reaction.

The Other: Looking down at the boy, his hold still around his throat, a perfect view in his mind. Or it would be if he wasn't consumed by his anger right now. Too many things were coursing around in his mind right now that he focused on Atticus right now, his Jawbreaker, another one that lied to him. While his ways may be questionable, he was at least always honest but learned he couldn't expect that in return.

"Hmm we are close." The Other said in a low tone as he leaned into the boy. "Very close. Do I scare you, Jawbreaker? Good…" Moving his hand a little, he pushed the boys face aside, exposing the neck to take in his scent. "You should be very scared." He whispered, but then let go of his hold on the throat, not to release Atticus though. He grinned as he got up and turned Atticus over onto his front, straddling him again to keep him down. "I mean I could do anything, like why should I care what anyone thinks? No one seems to care what I think either, Scotty sure as fuck doesn't. I could make you eat sand… Would you like that?" He grinned again, though now face down, Atticus wouldn't see that. He grabbed hold of Atticus hair to keep his face up. His free hand roamed down the boy's back and slipped into the back of his pants to give his ass a squeeze. "Or I can just fuck you into oblivion, that always calms me down…"

Atticus: His hand was wrapped around The Other's still, knowing in his gut that he wasn't doing anything to help himself, but it still felt like something. Obviously his strength was no match for a vampire's, but what was he supposed to do - lie there like a dead fish? No way. His face - and thus, his line of sight - slowly turned away, made his heart spike that much more. As scared as he was, he at least would have liked to have seen what The Other was doing.

Briefly, the weight of a body was off of him, and Atticus debated on running. Or just pulling himself away, somehow, but his decision-making was too slow and he found himself facing the sand, eyes squeezing shut, and swallowing hard. "No," he mumbled, shaking his head. No sand, thanks. "I don't think you can do anything." Masters still had limits, and with how pissed off The Other was, he was hoping he wouldn't walk away severely injured. Hell, he was hoping he'd at least be able to walk away, nervous how the other could just shatter every bone in his legs if he wanted. But he hated how quiet and weak his voice sounded. Head lifted from the sand, he stared straight ahead at the tree line, trying to keep himself as calm as possible. A shudder traveled down his spine at the next words, and thanks to the hand on his sensitive skin. "As long as you're calm," he muttered, so quiet, back feeling like it was ready to break.

The Other: "No sand? You sure?" An almost maniacal laugh sounded while his hand roamed. "I can do whatever the fuck I want." He said, no laughter now though as he ripped the back of Atticus's pants to expose him. "You see, I followed Scotty's rules, behaved… in a way because I promised him. But why the fuck would I would I care about that now?" His free hand smacked down on Atticus's ass hard before moving it to the boy's face and forcing his fingers into his mouth.

"That'll do." He mumbled when his fingers were a bit coated by the saliva in the slave's mouth and moved his hand back down to push two digits into his ass. "I have nothing to lose. Can do whatever the fuck I want." He grunted, pulling his fingers out after only a few thrusts. The zipper of his pants were easily undone, positioning himself while keeping a firm hold on the boy's hair. "What's the worst they could do? Send me away? Maybe I'm hoping for it, hoping they'll kick Scotty off the island, away from all he wants. Maybe then he'll know how it feels to never get anything you want." He groaned as he pushed his cock into the tight ring of muscle, not giving Atticus any time to adjust as he began to pound right into him. Where he had recently begun to learn to care, all of that was now out the window.

Atticus: Atticus felt his cheeks heat up at the laughter, and the rising panic all in one. Given the nature of the island, this was unfortunately not the first time he found himself in this kind of situation, but that never made it easy. The cool air hit his ass and his mind was having a hard time catching up, freezing in place at the smack. The vampire’s words were making him increasingly nervous, thoughts racing as he tried to avoid gagging at the fingers scraping his tongue.

He really seemed to have a vendetta against Scott, for one, but also for any rules. Atticus cried out at the harsh fingers in his ass, still so dry even with the little bit of spit - he was having a very hard time keeping still. There’s no way, that he’d go so far as to do something so bad to Atticus he’d have to leave, right? Logic told him that the vampire was centuries old and likely had a trail of bodies behind him, but Atticus was silently hoping it would stop. That it was just him blowing off steam. He was brought back to be reality by the sharp realization of how there really was no prep, because Atticus could practically feel muscles tearing as The Other pushed into him with absolutely no care and way too much speed. Any cries he had, he didn’t even bother stifling - it hurt. Muffled shouts of pain through gritted teeth were only punctuated by pleas of mercy. His eyes squeezed shut, desperate to keep in any tears. “What do I have to do with Scott?” he asked, voice strained and pained from his neck being pulled back, fists digging into the sand.

The Other: A harsh groan sounded as he fucked the slave into the sand, keeping a hold on his hair for leverage. "Damn, I'm gonna miss fucking you if I get kicked out." He said, followed by laughter. "You lie, just like Scotty does." A grunt sounded as he continued his pounding into the tight ass. Thinking he should stop with lubing up anyone as this felt damn good.

"Never lied, never broken my word, but now… I don't give a fuck anymore." He huffed as he stopped for a moment and leaned down, moving a little to pull Atticus up to his hands and knees at first. "I should do whatever the fuck I want." He mused in a horse tone, pulling at the slave's hair to have his back up against him, letting go of his hair to wrap his arm around the boy's throat. "Tell me again you want me close… Make me fucking believe it…" The Other whispered near the boy's ear, his arm mildly squeezing to make breathing a bit difficult while he thrusted in and out of him again.

Atticus: Atticus opened his mouth to respond, but shut it quickly. One lie, it was one! And it was a defense mechanism anyway, because he was scared! What was he supposed to say? “I’m sorry!” he strained, desperately trying to find purchase on the beach, hands scrambling and sliding.

It hurt so bad, the scraping pull on his insides were making his fingernails dig into his palms. He wanted to bury his head in the sand and forget about it. Maybe just siding with him with him would work? Save his own ass a bit? “You’re doing what you want right now,” he attempted, voice raspy. He wished he drank more at the bar. He felt stupid, unsure how to sate this guy in a way that wasn’t physical. If he even should. Atticus cried out when he was pulled up, body flush against him and stopping any squirming when the hand closed around his throat. “Please—“ He made a choking sound after, gulping down some air in order to speak. “Closer, please. As close as you want.” Atticus just wanted to save his own ass, and if pandering to him and worshipping him was going to work, he would try it. Even if a few tears escaped his tightly shut eyelids, and even if his throat hurt from holding back shouts of pain - not that he could release any if he tried, with the grip around his windpipe making him see stars.

The Other: "As close as I want." The words were repeated. "As I want… I want…" Mumbles left his lips as he pounded relentlessly into the boy, groaning as he was close to the edge right now. "I should have anything I want…" His eyes were bright red, wanting, longing, craving more and more, any lines that had ever been there were blurring fully until they vanished. Anger was all consuming, it had been a long time since he had been like this, born out of anger without the ability to hold back though he had learned. All the life lessons were out the window.

"I want… you…" He grunted as his body trembled, finding his release deep inside the boy while his fangs descended. "Mine." The next groan was more like a growl as he sank his fangs into the side of Atticus's neck, puncturing the vein there, drinking large gulps, more and more, like he couldn't get enough.

Atticus: Well, he seemed to like that, judging by how the thrusts were becoming more sporadic, more needy. Atticus was fully crying, but as silently as he could as the pain became that much more intense. The shock seemed to be wearing off and Atticus felt like he wasn’t getting enough air, between the panic and the hand nearly blocking his airway. Surely he was already torn, his bleeding likely being his only saving grace as lubricant.

Atticus felt the shudder on top of him, feeling the release of warmth in his insides and let out a quiet choke of relief - it was almost over. All he wanted was to go back to his cell and curl up under the blankets for a day or two, forget about the madness of everything. But then Atticus felt the teeth slice open his skin with worry, hating the feeling of being bitten and hating even more how he could hear the swallowing, that rapid gulping near his ear. And it kept going. “Wait—” he rasped, his arms shaking under him, one lifting to tap on the hand around his neck a few times. It’s not like The Other was going anywhere, still buried in him and with the fangs so deep in his muscles - but still.

The Other: The Other didn't even hear the pleading to wait, too wrapped up in his anger to hear anything. All he felt and tasted was the blood and hell it tasted good, too good. He grinned as he stopped drinking but his fangs remained in the vein, like plugs holding the bleeding for a second. "I'll end… your suffering… mine…" He growled and latched fully on again. If Scotty could have what he wanted , so could he… Words that rang through his mind as he drank more.

He could feel the body grow limp in his hold more and more, but still he didn't stop, each gulp bringing death closer to the boy in his arms until almost no blood remained in the body. "I'll save you…" He erupted in laughter, though he knew the slave wouldn't be able to hear anything anymore by now as he slashed his own wrist and let his blood drip into the boy's mouth and down his throat. "See you soon, my toy." He muttered as he pulled out of the limp body, his hand moving over the mouth and nose to prevent any breathing that was left, knowing he was taking the life out of him.

Atticus: I’ll end your suffering - that didn’t sound at all promising and it only served to spike his fear and struggling tenfold. How much worse damage could he do, by how tightly the two were wound together - what’s a few more severed muscles for an attempt at freedom? “Please!” he begged, weakly. Atticus was gulping down breaths as fast as possible, his anxiety spiraling quicker than it's ever had.

The vampire’s hold on him seemed to last forever, and was practically holding him completely up as his arms became useless. His vision swam in and out of focus, and time seemed to glitch, as he’d pass out and regain consciousness in sporadic intervals. It was so disorienting, and no thoughts were in his head - no calls for peace, or prayers, just confusion. He was just at the bar, why were his knees itchy with sand? Why was he so tired? Atticus didn’t want to be confused, so he drifted off to sleep instead. There was a point where he thought he could taste metal, but that was a floating thought that carried him back into unconsciousness, as his breathing ceased without fight.

The Other/Scott: The Other listened to the fading breaths, but also to the accompanied heartbeat getting slower and slower, which was partly due to there hardly being any blood left to pump around. Soon there was silence, nothing but silence. He let go of the body, watching it fall into the sand with a smile on his face. "Oh jawbreaker, soon we will be closer than ever." He grinned and began to hum what sounded like the melody of some children's song, quite upbeat and happy in tone while he got dressed and began to dig into the sand. "If you make it through the transition anyway." He shrugged while he kept digging, not everyone survived getting turned after all, it was like a lottery that way. Once the grave was complete, he dropped the body into it and covered it up.

"What…" Scott's voice sounded in the Other's mind, having unmuted him and now having him watch along as he patted the sand. "What the fuck have you done?! Tell me that's not what it looks like…" The Other chuckled at Scott's panicked voice. "It's exactly what it looks like, Scotty, I'm getting a toy, you get what you want and now I get what I want." The Other said in a cheery tone. "Seriously?! If you wanted to get even with me then this is not the way!…" A moment of silence happened until Scott spoke again. "Who the hell is in there?" A question that The Other had expected. "Jawbreaker." He said easily, knowing that Scott would know who he meant. "No… no no no." Scott let out a yell inside The Other's mind causing him to back away so Scott could take over.

Scott blinked his eyes, looking down at what he now knew was a grave. The grave of a boy he had once helped when he was a vampire for a day due to spells gone wrong. If he made it through, then this wouldn't be for a day, this would be forever. Scott could sense his own blood under the ground, was it working? He had no idea as now all he could do was wait and see if there would be movement or only silence.

Atticus: Coughing happened first. Huffing out through his nose, from the sand that had found its way into every crevice of Atticus’s body. He felt pressure on all sides of him, not even bothering to open his eyes. Limbs contorted into awful, straining shapes, he managed to shake them into something useful. But it was so disorienting, and he couldn’t tell if he was upside down, sideways or what. His arms pushed in each direction, one by one, until his left hand found some thinner layer, sand that was disturbed making things that much easier.

So, he dug. Fingers pushing at what felt like never ending sand, until he felt air on his knuckles. It was a start! And an extremely annoying prank. Because that’s all it could have possibly been in Atticus’s eyes. A prank to scare him - lesson learned, he’s not gonna go breaking curfew again, not for a long time.

When his face eventually hit air, he spat out the sand in his mouth, gulping in a breath. He was facing the ocean, the island engulfed in that early morning bluish hue. It was nighttime when he was walking back - how long was he in the ground?

As his mind retraced its steps, it hit him all at once: how he was violated, how he begged to stop, and the bite. His hand flew to his neck, carefully examining the smooth skin. “No…” he trailed off, before giving himself one more hefty tug up and out, freeing his top half from its earthy prison. That’s when he turned, flinching violently at seeing the vampire’s face, memories of pain flooding back to him.

Exhausted, he buried his face in his arms, sand falling from his curls. “That really wasn’t funny,” he mumbled, sounding like a child, squeezing his eyes shut.

Scott: Movement, a sigh of relief left Scott's lips, though was it truly relief? Sure, he wasn't dead, not technically, but shit, this was bad, this was very bad. One thing Scott never did was turn anyone against their will, it went completely against his nature because he himself was once turned against his will. Now The Other had done exactly what Scott hated and it hurt. There was now no time to focus on that however as the ground moved more.

Scott began to dig a little to try and help Atticus to get out of the grave. "Here, let me help you. It's me, Scott." He said, though his tone of voice should say enough. Hooking his arms under Atticus's arms to lift him out of the pile of sand and free his legs. "No, it wasn't… I'm so sorry, Atticus." Hell the words didn't even get close to how he felt right now. "Easy now." He said as he let the boy just breathe for a moment. "I don't know all he did to you but I know it must've been bad… I know what did in the end though." He said softly, there was no denying it, he could feel it in every part of his being that they were linked in a way that couldn't be described in words, the boy was sired to him. Slowly he just placed an arm around him. "If you haven't guessed yet… well, no easy way to say this but he killed you. And gave you his, or well, my blood."

Atticus: “Thank god,” he breathed, and that somehow made him looser, his limbs giving up. Scott was doing 90% of the heavy lifting, Atticus only helping by kicking himself free at the end. He collapsed on the ground, rolling over and laying flat on his back. He wasn’t in pain, and he didn’t think he was tired - he was just completely stunned.

Finally he sat up, the weight of it all crashing down on his hunched shoulders. Atticus shook his head, for once in his life at a loss for words. There’s no way, that couldn’t be true. He took in a few panicked breaths at first, remembering all the other pieces of his night, his hand ghosting over the skin around his neck. A few tears fell at the comforting arm around his shoulders and he shook his head again, kept shaking it. “No,” he mumbled. “No way.” But there was a closeness he felt with Scott, like an invisible link. It felt stronger than any connection he had with blood relatives. It made him want to curl up in the vampires arms and pass out. Atticus looked down, at his naked body - at the dried blood between his legs, the tattoos on his skin, the hair on his arms. It was familiar, but didn’t feel like his anymore. “What am I supposed to do now?” he cried. “What do I tell my parents?” He felt sick. “I’m gonna throw up, put me back in the sand—”

Scott: "Careful, the process isn't complete yet." Scott said, making sure the boy wouldn't harm himself or anything, even if he'd heal in no time with Scott's own blood flowing through Atticus's veins now. when he shook his head, Scott held him a little tighter, just supporting him but also himself as this brought back painful memories of his own transition.

It's when the guide in him, his caring side kicked in, as it was like hearing himself talk, however he was alone when he got out of the ground and that was something he wouldn't let happen to Atticus, he would stay. It was partly how he was but mostly it was the link as there was nothing stronger than the link between maker and the one he turned, even it it had been The Other who had done the turning, it was his blood. "I'm so sorry…" He said while his hand lightly moved the hair from Atticus face. "I can't tell you what to do, or I won't is more like it." Scott said as he leaned back a little but not going far, just enough to be able to reach into his pocket and pull out a bag of blood. "You have a choice… I had the same choice once but that was taken from me. I won't choose for you, you either drink this and live, kinda. Or you die." Once he had the choice and he had actually chosen to die, that was when The Other first came around, taking his freedom of choice by going on a rampage. It was why he wanted Atticus to make the choice. "If you choose to live, I will take care of you and trust me when I say that The Other will pay for what he has done. I'll help you with any issues including the family thing as I've dealt with things like that before. If you do choose to die… I'll help you as well in any way I can."

Atticus: He huffed in annoyance - of course it wasn’t over with. As if the night wasn’t already so disastrous. But he was extremely grateful it was Scott here, helping him through and comforting him. God knows he needed that shoulder to lean on right now, because he burst into tears in seconds, sobs that shook his arms, feeling so weak and vulnerable. It took a little while for him to calm down, long enough for the early morning to filter in over the horizon.

Scott moved a bit and his eyes followed what he was doing. He knew it before he saw it, what was pulled out of his pocket and he grimaced. Last time was different, when everyone went crazy and he was a temporary vampire - it was exactly that. Temporary. He knew the next day or two would bring it to an end. “I already died, how much worse could it be a second time?” he grumbled. Even saying those words out loud threatened to spiral him completely down. But he pushed it away, to deal with at a time where the stakes weren’t as dire between his living or dying. Scott’s reassurance to take care of him, to help him with what he needed was helping immensely to ground him in reality. This was his reality, now. “I always thought if I went through a change like this, I’d just die,” he said. “Actually die, like for real.” He banked on it, as a matter of fact. As annoying as it could be, he liked being human. But his decision was made. Atticus took the blood from Scott. “Why do you just carry this around with you, am I gonna have to do that, too?” Feeling a rush of anger at how much his life was about to change, his hand squeezed the bag hard enough that it popped, blood spraying all over his hand and arm. Within moments, though, it was licked clean - Scott was right, before, about bloodlust being so insatiable, having sent him into something of a trance. He didn’t even remember consuming it, it happened so quick. “Sorry,” he muttered, a slight lisp with the fangs. “Now what? Is there a bootcamp, an educational short film?” His shoulders slumped. “We gotta tell the headmaster, huh? Can I get pants first?”

Scott: The sobs that sounded were killing him inside, self-blame taking hold as he blamed himself maybe even more than The Other. He had ignored the signs that The Other was starting to lose it, made himself believed his alter was just being a grump and because of that he hadn't seen how far down the drain the mood of his alter had gone. So he held Atticus, letting him let it out in whatever way was needed. "It's your choice." Scott repeated , needing to make that clear due to his own past. "Yeah, many do die, many don't get out of the ground, but you did. You're here and you can make the choice for yourself, even if my alter made the choice for you to turn you." He mused while the bag was taken from his hands. "I do, always. Just in case hunger strikes. Though I don't need to feed as much anymore due to my age, you will have to feed regularly. "He said, a little flinch happening when the bag popped, but there it was, the choice had been made as Atticus began to lick up the blood, this sealed the deal now. "Don't… say sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for and no there's no bootcamp, technically you already had a trial run with me a while ago…" Scott slowly nodded, just keeping Atticus comfortable against him for now. "We do, but it can wait a moment longer, not just to get you dressed, you can take a little time. And I'm sorry, I don't like to do this but… I command you to stay close to me. I don't like commanding anything but now you won't have a choice. Like I explained before when you were a vampire temporarily, a new vamp can be dangerous as you don't have much control yet, so I'm keeping you and others safe." He explained in a clear tone while also making his command, he hated doing this but right now there was no choice in that.

Atticus: The fangs that popped out when he licked up the blood wouldn’t go back in no matter how hard he concentrated. His body seemed to really want more, and even though Atticus was grossed out at the idea of having to constantly tote around a blood bag, he still craved it. He wished it was a bit more of a meaningful moment when he did make that transition, taking in the significance, but it was somewhat fitting for someone like Atticus, anyway. He had a feeling the command was more than just words, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Frankly, he was too scared to be completely by himself, even if he just wanted to sit on the beach until the sun came up. He wanted a shower and some time to adjust, and was afraid of something happening if Scott wasn’t there - what if it didn’t take somehow and he dropped dead, then what? He thought he was handling this well, currently - but he’d give it a few days. “If I knew it was a trial run, I wouldn’t have goofed off so much,” he said, voice thick. Atticus took in a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere,” he agreed. “I never had self control, so you’ve got a fun job ahead for yourself.” His head rested on the man’s shoulder. “I really want a shower. And a big sweatshirt and sweatpants. Maybe after that to just lay on a couch somewhere for awhile, I don’t know.” He reached up then, feeling around his neck for the collar - and he snapped it right off like a rubber band. The collar was the least of his problems.

Scott: If this situation wasn't so fucked up, it would be almost endearing in a way. "The fangs will go back when you've fed properly." Scott said softly, it had been a long time since he had felt the strength of a newly made bond, though a bond remained strong either way, it always seemed to feel the strongest with a newly turned vamp. Scott could feel everything that Atticus was feeling, all of his fear and anxiety, so he just held him for now. "Good. Well, you can't now anyway. The thing with a command from me is that you can't refuse, you can try but it would be very unpleasant for you. Which is why I don't like using it but I need to make sure you are safe and everyone else around this place. I'll be your self control for now so don't worry." He slowly nodded when it was said a shower was wanted, something he could understand when just looking at him. He pulled off his shirt to use it to cover Atticus up a little. "That'll have to do." Scott moved Atticus arm around his shoulder and lifted him up off the sand. "Try to relax, we'll be there soon." He said while he set off down along the beach to get to his home.

Atticus: Atticus touched his mouth, the pointed teeth. "Oh." He wanted to see what it looked like. Did he look different? He felt different. When his fingers found the fangs, it sliced his skin open, and he watched in awe as it practically stitched itself back up in real time. He carefully rubbed the skin as he looked away from it - his plan was to avoid thinking about any of these abilities he had if he could help it. But that was a difficult feat, with how heightened his senses were. The loud white noise of the ocean, the waves sounding against the shore. Birds chirping in the early morning, a loud bang in the distance somewhere. It wouldn't stop. Atticus cupped his hands over his ears and shut his eyes, trying to get it all to quiet down. He was so wrapped up in that that he didn't even realize Scott was on the phone, only pulled out of his daze when he was picked up.

Atticus felt unsteady on his feet. He couldn't just stay in limbo on the beach anymore, pretending what happened to him didn't. He had to walk away, he had to move on, and he had to face whatever was to come next. "But like… where do you just get blood?" he asked. "I mean, I know where, but--" He rubbed his neck, flashing back to the pain of the fangs piercing through his vein, how he faded into unconsciousness, how he wouldn't let go. "I don't wanna have to do that to someone."

Scott: Since Atticus was unsteady, Scott just scooped him up fully, carrying him as he used a hint of his speed to get home. "The clinic provides blood to us if needed so I always have a supply at home. which I believe will be your home too, just gotta wait and see what the Headmaster says first." Scott said, he didn't care what they would do to him, he'd take full responsibility for this either way. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but you'll be surprised how many actually enjoy getting bitten. However, before any of that happens, you need to learn control or you'll drain someone in no time." He said as he saw his home between the trees in the distance and headed right over there.

Kicking the door open, he took Atticus inside and put him on his feet so he could close the door. "This way." He said as he moved up the stairs with the boy, remaining close until they reached the bathroom and opened the door. "Enjoy your shower, have a bath if you want, just take your time ok? I'll be right outside, if you need anything, just say my name, I'll hear you no matter where I am." Another little thing that came with the bond.

Atticus: "Mine?" he asked, jaw clenching a bit at that stupid word. He was already dreading seeing The Other after all this. Though he did appreciate the way Scott scooped him up and rushed over to the house, even if he did feel like a child. "I'm gonna get in trouble, I just know it," he muttered. "I snuck out late. Unless this is the punishment." He chuckled, humorlessly. "Message received." But with the way the island's been lately, Dante had bigger fish to fry than a moronic baby vampire. "That's kinda cool," he mumbled, about always being able to hear him.

He did take his time - about a half an hour, as a matter of fact, watching the water pour down the drain. He was extra careful how he did everything, because last time he was here, he nearly broke Scott's sink. His fangs were still out, and he'd run his tongue across them, getting used to them - he never had braces, but he felt that was the closest thing he could equate it to. Finally when he was done, he had found a robe and fastened it around him, finding Scott with ease - maybe that bond wasn't so bad. "I have a cat," he told him. "In case I have to live here. I don't want that to be a problem. For me, or the cat. Or any of you."

Scott: "The trouble you're in will be nothing compared to the trouble I'll be in for what The Other has done to you, but I'll deal with it." He said, watching the boy's gaze go in the same direction as his, knowing he could hear it too. "Hmhm, the enhanced hearing can be very handy sometimes. Hearing me say your name or you saying my name is a bond thing, you could be anywhere, even outside of hearing distance, I'll still know and come to your aid if needed."

Scott stayed in the kitchen while Atticus was finally able to get all the sand off him in the shower. Grabbing several spare blood bags, he chugged them into the microwave to warm them up. Cold blood was horrible after all. He could sense the boy getting closer before he even spoke. "Don't worry about that, I have dogs though but they're cool with cats." He said while he pulled the bags out of the microwave, having a sip of one just to be sure it was the perfect warmth. "That's good." He mused and placed the stack of bags in front of Atticus. "Enjoy. Drink until you can pull back those fangs at least."

Atticus: “I know, I just don’t want to hear about it,” he said. He knew it wasn’t Scott’s fault, he did, but there was a real spiteful part of him that hoped there was some sort of consequence - he fucking died, for god’s sake. Atticus nodded - this was why he should have paid attention in class. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he knew this, but felt it was unimportant.

He slouched in a chair at the kitchen table, watching with a grimace at the man taking the bags of blood and putting them in the microwave. Whatever stopped the fangs from piercing his lips, he’d take it. “No, no,” he started, another humorless chuckle on his lips. “Am I gonna be good? Is The Other gonna be good? If I drain this cat or come home to his dead corpse, you might as well put the stake in me now.” His voice wavered at that to the end. It was a stressful evening, and that was an understatement, so he’d gladly blame the surge of every emotion his body was capable of feeling on the change. While Atticus eyed the bags carefully, it was also with disgust. “Can you just—“ He huffed, taking a bag. “It will only be remotely okay for me to be drinking these if I can trick myself into forgetting what it is,” he said. “We’ve gotta order like, a dozen hydroflasks, or get them in juice boxes. I cannot be walking around with one of these in my pocket, that’s horrible.” But he sipped on the first one anyway - shutting his eyes, of course - draining it in seconds before moving on to the next. “And by we, I mean you. That is not coming out of my pocket.”

Scott: "Like I said, I'll deal with it so it won't be your concern either way, you have enough on your plate right now." Scott said while placing the bags in front of Atticus, listening to his questions. "I don't know. I'll be having a word with The Other either way. About the cat I am sure you won't harm him, nor will anyone else drain him. The second you would put your fangs in your cat, you'd pull back." He chuckled a bit. "Animal blood is disgusting really."

Scott slowly nodded at the suggestion. "Of course we can. It's just here I use the bag that it comes in, you think that at home I walk around with a bag of blood? No, always in a flask of some kind. Here I just get lazy as I don't need to hide what I am here. Out there I have to." He said, watching the boy feed properly finally. "Don't worry, I have deep pockets." How deep the boy wouldn't know as he didn't speak much usually about his home and how different his life was there, here he was just a Professor and he liked it that way.

Atticus: “Oh, good,” he breathed. If something preventable happened, he didn’t know what he would do. And he was glad Scott would talk to his alter, but he didn’t know what good it could do - The Other had been pissed. Atticus had a pit of anxiety churning in his stomach at the idea of having to face him again. “Can’t you just lie and say I died died?” he asked, making his way through the third bag. “Give me extra time away without him bothering me or sticking something else in me?” If that’s how it worked, even. That meant the Other could just call his name whenever he wanted, too. “I know I won’t have to hide it here either, technically, but the goal is to try and hide it from myself.”

His brows furrowed again, another surge of anger incoming. “Oh, you got deep pockets, huh? Then my demands have risen! I don’t sleep anymore, right? That’s killing off one of my favorite hobbies, so I think a new laptop and gaming station is an acceptable start to an apology.” He continued to drink, face falling a little. “And my best friend is a nymph… can’t you compel me to not drink from him or something? He's got, like, special blood, right? I don’t want to hurt him.” Atticus stood, holding the bag with his teeth and sucking it dry, opening up cabinets for a snack - a real snack, something he would have eaten as a person. “Don’t you have chips or something anywhere—” He ripped two cabinet doors off the hinges. “Whatever, I’ll fix that another time, I just—" He exhaled, feeling that pressure behind his eyes again as he leaned his forehead against the cool fridge. “For god’s sake please don’t make the claim jewelry ugly if that’s how we end up!” he cried, wiping his eyes - he had to put his focus on anything else. “I'm sorry… Is this part of it?"

Scott: Scott shook his head at the question. "No, I mean I can lie and say you're dead but he will know it's a lie as he can feel the bond to you just like I can so he would instantly know it's not true." He explained calmly, even though the boy's emotions were now all over the place. "Right now he won't bother you, I make sure of that. He doesn't want to deal with a new vamp anyway."

He rolled his eyes at the demands, though it gave him an idea. "I can get you anything you wish, if you follow my lead and let me help you learn about your new life. I can also compel you not to drink from your friend, that's no problem either way, but you have to learn to listen. That's the deal, I can make your unlife very comfortable but not if you're only going to be a problem. So it's up to you." He said, still calm as he had no issue with him being all over the place right now. "Left bottom cabinet." He sighed and approached him, cupping his cheek to have him look at him. "It's ok, yes this is part of it so I know you can't help how you are right now, don't worry about it."

Atticus: "Dammit," he muttered. That would have been nice - then again, not being bound and running amok without Scott there was a recipe for disaster. "I can't imagine why he wouldn't want to deal with me," he snorted. Atticus felt a little offended that the other had to tell him so many times to listen… but he was right, wasn't he? His focus was poor even in the best of times, so this was going to be a hell of an adjustment. Force him to grow up, even if he'll stay looking the same forever. He'd take the time to focus on the positives and all that necessary psychology another time.

"I'll listen," he mumbled, after he found the snack cabinet and was cradling a can of Pringles under his arm. "I'm not gonna be a problem!" There was that stupid pressure behind his eyes again that he was forcing back, especially at the hand on his face. "I'm not always a problem, just like, half the time." His thumb wiped a few crumbs off his lip when he was under Scott's gaze. Atticus shut his eyes, willing himself to just calm the fuck down. He exhaled slowly, opening his eyes and giving the other a somewhat forced, but grateful smile. "We should probably go," he told him. "I feel like the sooner I don't have the strength of a superhero the better."