Welcome to Swords of Speirling. We are an original fantasy site, set in a fictional world divided into seven kingdoms. We are set in the Medieval-ish/Renaissance period of this world. We have 20+ playable races available, we have no word count, and we are rated mature. Our application process is simple and to-the-point and we are LGBTQ+ friendly, straight-/cisgendered-ally friendly, and ALL racial identities-friendly. We do believe in some order, but we don't take ourselves all that seriously. Jerks need not apply. It is currently WINTER.
We are currently searching for royal family members and military characters, particularly knights.
Greyson hadn't expected anyone to come to him while he sat in the street playing his music. It was a pretty normal day for him, and he had been a bit disappointed the last several nights anyway. Not a sign or trace of Syian, and Greyson had come to terms with the idea that maybe he did not believe Greyson was worth training anymore. Grey never let on to his insecurities, never let his issues show. Even now, the disappointment consuming him he smiled as he sang in his favorite spot, gave nods and had short friendly conversations with people who passed by and stopped to listen. That was of course, until he was in the middle of a song and this male came to him frantic.
At first, Greyson was confused - he had tried to ignore it and continue playing, he didn't understand what the male meant. Someone was dying? Sirius. Who the fuck was that? Greyson did stop, and he stared at what everone else couldn't see. Words were muttered, but Greyson ignored it. He knew by now that this was real, as much as others may not have agreed. "Show's over.." he informed the few people who had stopped for that last song, moving to his feet.
It was rare to get a look like this on Greyson's face, even if the primary thing there was confusion and curiosity. He kept speaking, and Greyson didn't bother packing anything up - didn't bother grabbing any of the money that had been dropped. He just took off, something urgent was happening. Greyson felt like the male was familiar, but he didn't quite understand why as he followed the male again. He knew it was a ghost, he knew it must have known he could see and hear. Maybe that's why Greyson had been the target of it's attention? Of course, Greyson only followed blindly enough to get away from the crowded area before he stopped. "Wait! I need you to explain what is going on, I can't just follow you blindly like this."
There was an unnerved look about him, but not a frown. Not yet. Just something very serious in his eyes, an expression he did not give very often. "Who are you, and where are we going?" This was clearly something that required a little speed, but Greyson still required answers. Greyson saw the way that this male turned, the way the ghost seemed mad.
"How dare you hesitate, you shit. You dont deserve him or the highest compliment he could give you of being your teacher. He's dying and you're standing there with that stupid look on your face like there's even the slightest doubt that you fucking owe him."
The words, though, that caught Greysons attention. Tanner hadn't even said everything before Greyson started running again. He had no clue where he was going, but he wasn't going to waste any more time than needed. If this was the direction he had been going, then the ghost would catch up and lead as needed. Sirius was Syrian, and Greyson couldn't stand the thought of Syrian being the one dying here. He didn't have very many people he considered a real friend, and this new information made him realize there was a reason Syrian hadn't returned. How long was Syrian in danger, or hurting? Fuck.
There weren't words, there wasn't any further hesitation from Greyson. He knew why the ghost seemed familiar with those words, he knew exactly why Syrian had been confused about his comment on bringing friends. Because Syrian didn't see him, because Syrian had his own personal guardian angel. Greyson was grateful for his gift most of the time, never seeing the dangers in it - and right now? He was cherrishing it and the fact there was a ghost who cared enough to guide Greyson to him. By the time Grey had gotten to where the wolf struggled to stand - failing each time - he froze, his breathing way too heavy to stablize. The sounds had Grey's heart clenching. Greyson had never seen this side of Sirius, but he had also never heard the name that this ghost called him either. Greyson did know, however, that this wolf was damaged, and he saw the way Tanner approached with so much urgency.
There was no doubt about it, this was Syrian--- or was it Sirius? Not the issue right now. The look on Greyson's face was likely one that the wolf had never seen, one tainted with fear and concern, one that did not hold a smile, one where his eyes did not dance with joy. He was not afraid of Sirius, of course, but afraid for Sirius. He was here now, but Greyson didn't know how to safely remove an arrow by any means. Wild eyes went to the spot which would be empty to Sirius. "What do I do now? I don't know what to do with this, I've never had to do anything like this." Greyson's breathing still heavy, more frantic. He was panicking, uncertain.
The ghost was just as freaked out, demanding Greyson remove the arrows. How could he, though? What if he made it worse? Stop moving. Right, Sirius couldn't hear it but Greyson did, and he agreed. He was moving over to Sirius, his breaths still heavy as he placed a hand on the wolf's side trying to make him stop. "Please, Sirius - stop you're making it worse.." Despite the way he was breathing, despite how freaked out he was, his words were calm and actions gentle. He had never been in this situation before, but he had been around enough hurt people to know that freaking out made it worse. There were still signs, of course. It was written in his eyes and the way his body trembled. The ghost kept screaming for him to get the arrows out and Greyson shook his head, eyes snapping back to the ghost.
"It's not that fucking easy, I don't want to make it worse myself. He needs someone who actually know's what they're doing. Instead of yelling at me, find someone who can do it right." There was a pause before Greyson let out that small burst inside him, and it needed to come out. It needed to stop eating him. "Fuck!" He didn't know what to do, who to go to that wouldn't react to what he was bringing in rather than what he was asking them to help with.
I still think you're beautiful And I don't ever wanna lose my best friend.
Blood and fire. His existence boiled down to these two things for what seemed like an eternity, but considering the size of the village it likely hadn't taken him more than an hour. It hadn't necessarily been his intention to spend this time away like this, to rediscover himself this way, but things that bend in extremely odd ways still eventually break. This had been days in the making, holding all of it back for the sake of Tarquin and ensuring he would survive this. He might not be okay, but he would be alive, and Sirius had been determined to make sure that, no matter what happened, the other would be well enough to fend for himself again when this finally came.
When the day finally came, it was hard to ask to leave him. Just 24 hours, if not less. That was all he asked, all he would give himself, to find the bottom of that box everything had been shoved in to. He didn't want to leave, but before any real healing could happen for either of them, this needed to come out. The grief, the anger, the despair. The kind of loss based on what could of been and likely never would be given a chance again. This was even more than that, however. He would not recover from what he had seen, it would never stop haunting him, so he made the decision to embrace the part of him that could deal with such images.
It would either work in his favor or destroy him further, but remaining in limbo like this would help no one. So, when he set out at dawn, he made the decision to embrace those things he fought so hard to resist. If Raine could do it, surely Sirius could manage to adapt as well. So, the wolf wandered. A mission with no specific destination, and it would be several hours until he found what he was looking for. A rather remote village, small but decently populated for the kind of area it was in. Setting the fires was the easy part. The massacre was a bit more difficult. Embracing all of those intense emotions and retaining some of the numbness that allowed him to put a sword through Raine's belly and leave him there helped.
From house to house he went, living in the screams and blood. Smoke and heat surrounded him, but none of it could touch him. Harmless steel and desperate hands, a few arrows here and there, were the only real resistance when the fire cut off most options of escape. He was sloppy and wild, letting the rabid instincts overcome him, taking all that anger and pain out on anyone unlucky enough to have chosen to live there. By the end of it, he walked through the violent silence down the main road, his fur more red than blond, running over every gruesome kill in his mind over and over.
Final breaths ripped straight from their throats, crushed skulls and splintered rib cages. The victims rose small to large, man woman or child didn't matter. It was those images that helped him forget. The horror of his own actions, the heaviness of the blood clinging to his skin, the overwhelming fear the hung in the air. For a moment, he no longer had the image of his under developed child burned in to the back of his eyelids. He sat there in the middle of the road, staring in the raging fire as it leapt from house to house, burning away the evidence to ashes. They were all dead, so at least they didn't have to experience burning alive as well.
At least, that was what he had thought. He hadn't known a young man had fled in the beginning, having been perched on a roof when the fires started. There was no way he could have known the child was a hunter's apprentice, or that his master was part of a group of soldiers stationed not far from the village. He was sloppy, not anticipating any real form of backlash for his actions with all the supposed witnesses destroyed. This was why he took his time to leave the village, parting the flames and walking through the smoldering remains of a carriage near the entrance as he left.
The ambush was quick and organized. Arrows, silver netting, spears. These came first, and they came hard. While the netting didn't stop him, it succeeded in slowing and confusing him. He only managed to drag one man in by his jabbing spear, dropping him down and ripping him open as the sharp sting of a sword sliding home between two of his ribs jarred him away. Not his heart, but it hurt like a bitch. The net was eventually evaded, but the fight was bloody. Those soldiers fell one by one to stupid, small mistakes. A second too slow here, a pair of feet too far apart there.
At some point he stopped caring about being wounded and simply focused on ripping them to pieces. Arrows, a few small spears, and two swords were what was left of the men. Not to mention, the silver net that had splintered, leaving fragments of silver behind that he knew wouldn't do him any favors. He was wounded. Badly. His mind reeled in the pain, but he focused on the task at him. Centered himself on returning home as he promised. Back to Tarquin, where he belonged. Where he could take his time pulling the weapons from his body and sleep off the damage.
Maybe if he hadn't already been weakened from a mixture of starvation and sleeplessness, not to mention the energy it took to wipe out an entire village. He didn't get far before his breathing became labor, blood blurring his vision, and even his nose seemed to be disoriented with the scent of his own burning flesh. Was he even standing anymore? The creature was only vaguely aware he had fallen, not understanding why his legs no longer obeyed him, or why the only color he could see was red. He needed to get home. He needed to be with Tarquin. Sirius made a promise, and he intended to keep it.
No amount of defiance seemed to help him regain his footing, however. The sound he made was a mixture of desperation and pain as his legs buckled and his paws scrambled uselessly against the ground. It took all the effort he had just to breathe and lift his head, it was as if he was attempting to move a mountain when tried to dig his claws in to some kind of stable surface. Down again, the resounding whine almost frantic. A few more panicked, heavy breaths before he tried again. Back down with a heavy thud that knocked the air from him, blood dripping from his open maw as he struggled.
He couldn't hear the words spoken at first, didn't realize he wasn't alone floating in some part of space where this single patch of dirt left him stranded and blind. Sirius had gone still for only a brief moment, trying to catch his breath, but feeling the sensation of warmth against his cold, matted fur brought another wave of useless struggling and sharp, pained whines and groans. Tanner was bawling at this point, having dropped down to his hands and knees in front of the wolf as he begged in their shared native tongue for him to stop moving with a soft, broken voice.
"Please..." He murmured, his damp eyes moving to Greyson as he spoke. The sound he made was a mixture of anger and despair, reaching out as if he would stroke the great wolf's head as it twitched back and forth on the ground. "There's no time!" He said hoarsely, withdrawing his hand and wiping at his face. "The silver is eating at him, he can't heal with them in there." The ghost stood, moving next to Greyson and pointing at the swords and spears. "If I could I fucking would, but you're all I have right now. You're all he has!" He said frantically, his angry words punctuated by a gurgling growl from the wolf as it tried to stand again, yet not even it's head could raise up from the ground this time.
Greyson had always been a silent ball of feelings, things he always pushed to the side to keep that happy outlook visible. Everything he did had to do with making the world around him feel better - if not for him then for those he interacted with. That didn't change that all of his emotions were still a part of him, it didn't change that he still felt what he rarely showed. Right now, there was so much going on he couldn't hide behind his normal smile. That was hurting him in its own right, but more so the fact that he was looking at Sirius so damaged, struggling and wimpering so much.
He could tell the red covered wolf didn't realize he was there, he could see the way he tried and tried. It was heart breaking to Greyson, it would have hurt if he'd seen anyone or any animal like this - but knowing who this was to him? Greyson had an attachment here, and he had so few of those. Greyson hadn't realized his own tears falling, of course. He was too distracted, trying to figure out what he could do. He heard the way that Tanner was speaking, and it wasn't anything Greyson recognized. Maybe he wasn't supposed to?
Sirius wasn't responsive to him, he needed something - anything - to get his attention focused. He needed Sirius to realize he was there, that he was trying to help him. His voice all to high compared to its normal tone, finally breaking and cracking, he repeated to the best of his ability what he was hearing. At least, a portion of it. He wouldn't be able to say too much, and what he did say was still very choppy given he didn't even know what language it was. "Denken Sie a-n die Gemütlichkeit von Ans Vett, die sich in einer Win-ternacht mit den Pferden im Heu zusammenger-ollt hat" Greyson's trembling hand moved to Sirius's head, and he whispered for himself quietly. "Plea-se hold on..."
Tanner broke down, and Greyson looked at him. Greyson was scared, he was so concerned and his heart felt so torn. Tanner was begging, pleading, and Greyson looked back at Sirius. It wasn't the words, though, that urged Greyson on. It was the way Sirius couldn't seem to move any further. He saw the twitching attempt to stand, but not even Sirius's head lifted this time. Greyson reached to the swords. He was as careful as he could be, trying to remove it fast but smoothly. He took a deep breath before hand, because he needed not to be so shaken. He needed to not hurt Sirius, not hurt him more than necessary anyway. "Pl-ease forgive m-e."
His words were quiet, scared, with his trembling voice and the tears that still fell from his face. From happy to so far down - to something that Greyson had never shown Sirius. He had never so much as frowned in the mans presence, and yet now all he could think was how lonely it would be again. It had hurt him earlier, when he thought Sirius walked away - but this was different. If Sirius walked away he could always come back. Dying did not equate to coming back in Greyson's mind.
Greyson went for the straitest things, pulling them out one by one where he could. Each time he had the urge to apologize, because he knew it was hurting Sirius. The arrows, though, had Greyson pausing. Arrows were meant to do damage when they were removed, and Greyson did not want to cause more damage. Trembling he looked back to Tanner, a high sound still in his voice. "I- I can-t..." He can't risk pulling those arrows and causing the wolf in front of him to die here, not if there was anywhere that someone could do it properly, where Sirius's life wouldn't be in the balance of some kid who just happened to talk to a ghost. He'd taken what he could have out. Too many feelings and thoughts clouded Greyson, and he didn't know what to do here. He didn't have the confidence in himself to take these out of Sirius. Greyson's facad was falling apart, melting away as he tried to figure out what to do - or how to do it.
I still think you're beautiful And I don't ever wanna lose my best friend.
There were still images clouding his brain, but all of them were fuzzy and out of focus. Every time a new thought entered his mind it slipped through his grasp before he could really process it. The world revolved around trying to stand and trying to make it home to Tarquin. Nothing else really mattered, not even breathing was a priority in that moment. This was despite the fact that it was already difficult to do so, coughing up blood when the wheezing became too heavy and thin. While his body had registered being touched, the sensation never seemed to reach the barely conscious part of his brain where he was currently trapped.
It never occurred to him that he was too weak to stand. Somehow his brain and his body had disconnected and followed opposing opinions about his overall state. Something filtered through the dense fog of his thoughts though, giving him pause. His paws still twitched, a claw occasionally catching on small rocks and dirt, but that and choking on his own blood was the only real version of stillness he had. Gemütlichkeit. Ans Vett. Those words sounded so familiar to him, so painfully real, but the logical side of him said this wasn't possible. The last person to use that word or that knew of that place was dead.
Not just dead, but centuries dead. His sightless eyes were wide and unblinking, and the only sign he gave of realizing he had been touched was the frantic back and forth as he seemed to search for the source. The sound he made was high in pitch, almost a soft keening, before he tried one more time and failed to stand. It seemed he gave up. He didn't move much again until the first blade was pulled from him, and it started a new wave of paw scrabbling, arching his back against the pain as he felt metal scrape against bone. Conscious enough to feel it, but not enough to understand what new threat might be assailing him or do anything about it. A special kind of Hell.
It kept happening. Sudden sharp pains pierced through him, but all he could manage was a sorry gurgled growl. Every sound he made caused the ghost to tremble and whimper in turn, reaching out for the wolf as if to comfort him, but never quite touching. His gaze only broke away to look to Greyson as he spoke, his voice broken with sobs. "I..I don't think t-they're silver..." Tanner said, leaning close to the wolf to try and see if the wounds had the same reaction the swords and spears did. It didn't seem like it, but they needed to be removed soon. It couldn't have been helping the situation. Suddenly, the wolf lurched sideways with a choked sound, finding some kind of ground under it's paws to be able to trip a few paces forward or so.
Tanner was at his side, shouting half hearted obscenities and begging him to stop before the wolf collapsed again. The great beast shuddered, then began shivering violently. It looked painful as the body started to morph, slow and messy. It succeeded in dislodging a few more shallow arrows that got pushed outwards, but those that pierced too deep became more stuck than before. The wolf was now a man lying still in the dirt, face down. Most of the arrows were sticking up at odd angles from his back, but there were several more over his body, painting him in dark shades of red mixed with his still open wounds and sticking his dark hair to his neck and cheeks.
He wasn't moving now, but Sirius was still somehow concious. Even a little moreso now, it seemed. His eyelids fluttered, fingers twitching ever so slightly. His voice was barely audible, heavily hoarse and broken. "Tar..quinn...Gemütl..ichkeit..." Sirius mumbled, and Tanner knelt beside him nearly hyperventilating through his sobs. The ghost suddenly looked to Greyson, picking himself up from the ground with a newfound determination. "Tarquin...He...he'll know what to do, how to help him.." Tanner's brown furrowed, and he turned in a circle for a moment, examining their surroundings. "I think...I don't think it's far, I can lead you there."
Every movement and sound had Greyson feeling even more torn up inside. It wasn't the Sirius he knew, that was for sure. This creature was so weak, so damaged. Greyson wished he knew what had caused this, wish it were possible for him to go back and stop it from happening. Greyson was doing his best to keep from falling completely apart, he was doing his best to be here for Sirius. He was far too distracted to make any connections right now, when there was no notable physical reaction aside from the eyes Greyson had completely missed, he just reacted. He needed to do what he could for Sirius, because the ghost was right. Sirius had done so much for him, Greyson owed at least this moment if not more.
That aside, Greyson felt so much for Sirius by way of their friendship. Greyson didn't have many real friends, none who had gone out of their way for him. More times than not, it was Greyson doing for others. He did that far more than anything else, so having someone there for him? It meant a lot, probably more than Sirius realized. The sounds Sirius gave, the fear Greyson could see when he was removing what he could.. It had him heart broken. He never wanted to see Sirius in this way, never expected it to happen like this. Soft whimper like sounds threatened to slide out of him, but he kept it down as best as he could.
Greyson was grateful when Tanner informed him the arrows weren't silver, that they weren't going to cause more problems if Greyson didn't remove them. Greyson couldn't bring himself to touch them, so he needed to know they weren't causing more damage inside. Of course, the fact that Sirius was up let Greyson feel like there wasn't any silver on the arrows. He heard Tanner, and while he did agree he was just glad that Sirius could move now. Greyson still trembled, tears still fell slowly down his cheeks, but at least this was something better. He saw the way Sirius was changing, and he wanted nothing more than to give him support. He also saw the few arrows that escaped, and the ones that didn't had him a bit bothered.
He couldn't imagine what moves around on the inside, what that shift could have cut and damaged. Words, the first words Greyson had heard from Sirius. He was too emotional and lost to make the connection of Tarquin and Quinn. He assumed it was just someone that Sirius found comfort in, and Greyson didn't hesitate to move over to the now human form. He moved to pull the mans arms over his neck from his back and try to pull him on piggy back style. Greyson was by no means weak, although it didn't mean Sirius was light by any extent. Greyson nodded to Tanner about leading. "Don't waste time, j-ust show me where to go."
Greyson's steps were hard, uneven. He was trying to handle his trembling, especially with the added weight. Sirius would probably feel the way he still shook as he followed Tanner, no words anymore. Greyson was finding himself more determined than anything right now. Sirius had already shown some level of recovery in standing as a wolf, and Greyson wanted to make sure that it became a full recovery. He didn't know what to expect, his eyes and face still puffy as the house came into view. There was a sigh in relief seeing it, because Sirius was not light. Greyson didn't get all the way to the door, perhaps a couple of yards away when he finally fell to his knees and let Sirius down carefully to avoid touching the arrows. His voice was now heavier, different from the way his scared cry had been - but still clearly upset and concered. He shouted from that spot, because he refused to leave Sirius's side. Sirius would not sit alone for even a second, not like this.
"TARQUIN! HELP PLEASE! SIRIUS IS HURT!"
I still think you're beautiful And I don't ever wanna lose my best friend.
It had been days, but that didn't make it better. He was going through the motions of doing things now, rather than just sitting somewhere and staring at walls or out windows for hours, so that was something. Sirius had been there for whatever was needed, though Quinn wasn't very demanding in those days. Perhaps his most undemanding days Sirius had ever been around for. He hadn't asked for anything, just simply accepted whatever food or drink was placed in front of him when he did little else the first few days. Then he had started moving around a little. Pacing some, or trying to play the piano and going silent for awhile more. Or just stretching, martial arts for bit, some aimless wandering about the estate or outside of it.
Quinn hadn't gone far, but he was still doing things. He couldn't paint, though, because the moment he tried to lift a brush he only stared blankly at the canvas and then abruptly got up and left it there. The rest of it was going normal enough, going through the motions, getting through the days. He was back to full health in the physical sense, though the mental sense was a whole other story. Yet Quinn had understood when Sirius asked for a day away, and Quinn had ensured Sirius that he'd be alright in that time. He wouldn't go anywhere, would occupy himself in the manor and around the estate. Quinn wasn't exactly up for going anywhere right now anyway. He'd end up doing something irrational or off the wall, and wasn't up for that right now.
Wasn't up for the consequences of it, whatever they might have been. Quinn had figured it was a good time as ever to sleep, because he wouldn't bother Sirius if he were to wake up screaming again. Not while the vampire was out and about. So that was what he was doing after several hours playing piano, finding something to eat to get by on. He had slept, and was sleeping when he heard the shout of his name, that Sirius was hurt. Quinn bolted up at that, and he was out the door in seconds. Before it had been realized that he knew the voice that had called to him. Greyson. But Quinn only sent a brief glance to the man before he was on his knees next to Sirius and putting his hands near the arrows still embedded in Sirius' flesh to numb the areas.
Then he was ripping them out in cold precision, one after another until they were out. Then he was sending healing to the wounds from the arrows and the other places that looked like they'd been made with swords and other weapons; healing and talking calmly, comfortingly to Sirius on autopilot. Mostly just telling the vampire that things would be alright, that he was going to patch it all up, and then describing calmly what he was doing. Quinn wasn't really thinking about the words coming out of his mouth, because those were mostly for Sirius' sake why Quinn was trying to concentrate on healing the wounds, though it was tiring work. Worse than even what Quinn thought it was, though that was more to do with what he couldn't see and was having a hard time healing.
Quinn wasn't sure why it was so draining on him, except that maybe he wasn't as physically back to health as he'd thought he was. He didn't realize that there were things he couldn't see, couldn't really heal going on here. They'd have to have a conversation on just what Sirius had been doing for the day later, because this was not something expected of a seasoned soldier like Sirius. Quinn was so immersed in that, in the healing, that he hadn't really acted as if Greyson was there, save for the intial noticing the man was there, had gotten him out here. Had brought Sirius to him. Quinn was grateful for that, though, so when the worst of it seemed to be better, Quinn did send Greyson an appreciative look. "I'm glad you brought him here." Then he looked back at Sirius.
He reached out to touch Sirius' face gently, his composure fracturing. "What happened?" He asked, voiced strained, glancing from Greyson to Sirius. He moved to try and help Sirius up, wanting Sirius inside, under blankets and resting. And Quinn wanted answers, too, on how this could have happened. The vampire was not usually this careless, and it had Quinn nervous, worried. He still wasn't fully there, though. The interaction for all the concern and fear that Quinn felt was still distant in some way in his mind. Like he couldn't really connect with it on the normal scale that he would have before all of this had happened. Maybe it was because he felt so drained on top of the stuff he was muddling through, but he simply didn't know.
Things became clearer slowly, so painfully slowly, but with it came more awareness of pain and the fire in his blood. It felt as if every pump of his heart pushed razor blades through his veins, but they were caked in ice instead of fire. He was cold, dreadfully so, but there was clearly nothing he could do about it. It was all he could do just to keep breathing, to twitch his fingers to make sure he still had them all. Only small things filtered through in bits, mostly what he had caught before that was spoken, but that made no sense to him. Distantly, he was aware of some warmth taking hold of him, of the world moving around him.
Some scent broke in to the haze, and he was vaguely conscious of the fact it was familiar. Instead of dirt he found something softer under his hands, considerably less forgiving against his badly seared hands. Absently, they twitched in against it, taking weak hold of a fistful of the fabric as the world continued to move around him. Separate but the same it seemed, he was moving as well. His head was swimming in that soft fog now, not just floating freely through it. Things started to surface around him, like the distant tremble and a far off sound of heavy breathing. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to identify where these things were coming from, what was so familiar?
His brain seemed to have a flicker of connection suddenly, but it wasn't one he would have expected. The scent changed, becoming sweeter and heavier, and the image of a young woman with long platinum blond hair and soft metallic eyes came to mind. "Addy..." He croaked out, barely able to open his mouth wide enough to make the sound. His fingers twitched a little tighter in the fabric of the other's clothes, ignoring the sharp protest of his injured flesh. In his mind's eye, he could smell the horses and the distinct sharpness of hay. Vanilla and lavender assaulted him with the wind that whipped her hair back in his face, but where he had held the reigns of a horse in that memory, they were absent now.
There was no ability to distinguish the two realities within him, even if he carried the small voice that told him this was not how the real world worked. One of them wasn't real. It was impossible for both of those things to work at the same time, yet he almost felt the warmth of the sun on his skin, catching a hint of the brilliant emerald green fields from the corner of his eye. This was wrong, but he couldn't fight it. He was too weak to even lift his head in that moment. Then the world was shifting again, taking a break from it's rotation to put him back on solid ground again it seemed.
Cold and unforgiving. He liked it quite a bit better when the world was spinning, after all. The man flinched visibly when the yelling started, his eyes suddenly open and flicking wildly in search of the source he couldn't seem to grasp. A new warmth brushed his skin now, but this one brought mixed feelings from him. The scent was comforting, clearer than the other had been, but with that warmth came the loss of the pain he hadn't realized he had become so used to. The loss of it made him nauseous, more at the sensation of things being pulled from his body. Without the pain, it was as if he felt the intimate brush of those objects against internal things that should never have been touched.
It was instinctive to shy away from it, attempting to raise a hand to stop it but only managing to brush what he thought was skin before it fell back to his side in defeat. The tingling heat that spread over him was almost painful in itself, clashing with the icy chill in his veins. Distantly, he was aware of the soft, halfhearted growl of protest as the last few arrows were pulled free. There were words there somewhere, but his eyes refused to focus on his surroundings. It got better, he could catch more than one or two words, but they still didn't make much sense to him yet. For a brief moment, his eyes widened and his brow furrowed.
He was trying so hard to focus, and for the briefest moment...he saw it. Tarquin's face hovering over him, caught a strain of words. Brought who where? Then his eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering as he shuddered. With the receding warmth returned the icy razor blades, and he made a low groan in his throat without opening his mouth. A few strained breaths, and the train of thought came that this wasn't just being weak. With whatever had been in him out, this wasn't going away like it should have. Sirius grimaced, grinding his teeth in frustration and agony as a fresh wave of ice washed through him.
"Pois-" He was being moved now. Too soon. The first few steps were at least somewhat stable with the help of the other, but then Sirius lurched sideways as the world began to spin more frantically and his stomach seemed to decide it didn't like it's position within his body. He stumbled down to his knees hard, and the male vomited blood and slivers of something shiny in to the dirt. He was barely keeping himself up with his palms as support, unfocused eyes glancing around tiredly as he mumbled, slipping back in to that fog as drums pounded in his ears. The rush of his own blood was so deafening he almost couldn't hear what he said.
"Add...Adelaide....where did..." His body trembled violently for a moment, and through his blurred vision he glanced back over his shoulder. Wasn't she here earlier? He smelled her, even if it was only for a moment. Where could she have gone? His fingers managed to lift from the dirt, grabbing hold of the closest thing to him as the confusion set in, mixing reality and the past. Adelaide and Tarquin in the same space, with Tanner's words echoing in his brain. It was too much, his breath picking up to a rasping, panicked pace. "Tarquin..." He mumbled, those wild eyes darting back and forth as his fingers gripped at the other male, but he didn't seem to realize it was him in that moment.
Just that he needed him. There were tracks being made on his cheeks from the tears, showing pale and colorless skin as if there was no blood left in him, only on him. "Somewhere, hunters...she's here...where..." It didn't seem to really make sense, his trail of mumbled words, but his sense of urgency seemed real, as if he were certain she was in danger from the same men who attacked her as if he hadn't ripped them to pieces and she hadn't died centuries before that happened. The images that passed before his eyes were there but not, broken and distorted but so real he could feel the weight of steel in his hands and hear her calling out to him in fear.
Greyson was completely clueless as to what or who he could expect coming out of that house, despite the fact he really should have known. The connection was obvious, when he had met Quinn that night they spoke about Sirius briefly, but Grey's mind just wasn't there. He didn't understand and he certainly wasn't thinking strait. He wanted to get Sirius to safety, and that was the only thing on his mind. He heard the word while he was carrying Sirius, and it had gotten a confused look from him. He gave a short glance to Tanner, wondering if that was this mans name. No, a sibling. Dead twin... Tanner, that was this ghosts name when Greyson had asked. "No... It's Tanner." Greyson didn't realize that Sirius was connecting him with his sibling, he thought Sirius was asking who Greyson was talking too.
Instead he kept walking, he kept going until he could not anymore. The connection, of course, was made for him when he saw the man walk out of the house infront of them. Tarquin, Quinn. Greyson only knew him by Quinn, which was why hearing the full name in that state of mind didn't connect. Regardless, he was grateful to know this man, at least somewhat. "I didn't know what to do, his friend suggested to come here.." His words were frantic and immediate, because despite knowing Sirius and Quinn were well aquainted, he didn't quite know how well.
Greyson hadn't bothered to pry, hadn't bothered to push for more information beyond teasing Quinn with the idea of a crush. He didn't know how deep any of this ran, just that he had been led here by the ghost which he glanced too now. Quinn had reacted immediately too, working instantly to help Sirius and remove those arrows, but each sound and movement had Greyson cringing and more frightened for Sirius's sake. The man he knew as so strong was looking so broken before him, and it was breaking Grey's heart a little bit. Of course, the lines on Greyson's face and the way his smile had gone to be replaced by tears would have done the same for anyone who knew him well enough.
There was a question on what happened, and Greyson couldn't answer that question. "Tanner lead me to him like this.. I don't know.." There it was again, that crack in his voice threatening to pull sobs from his throat. He fought that so hard, because right now Sirius did not seem fully safe. There was some more words from Sirius, quiet and Greyson was barely catching them as Quinn was taking him away. From fast to slow, but Greyson was stumbling back to his feet to follow the men, still trembling - and worse when he saw the way Sirius fell over again, saw the was Sirius got sick.
Greyson felt sick, his body paling as he feared he had messed up something somehow. Scared he'd moved the blades and spears wrong when he had removed them, and that thought had him even more worse for ware. He heard Sirius speaking, concern over someone - a sister, according to the ghost. It was clear that Sirius was afraid someone would hurt her, and it had Greyson's hair standing on end. He was closer now, following behind them til he was right by Sirius's side opposing where Quinn would have been. Breaths were quick and the panic was still there, but his actions were controlled again. Words were quick but smooth, to the point - concerned.
"There was a lot of silver, I pulled it out before we left." Deep heavy breaths and a pause before he continued, terrified he may have made a mistake. "I don't know what I'm doing, but I can't stand to see him like this... What should I do?" Greyson needed to do something, needed to be both distracted and useful. His eyes had that concerned fear dancing behind them as he watched Sirius.
I still think you're beautiful And I don't ever wanna lose my best friend.
Quinn didn't know what to think about the way Sirius' hand had moved, because it did at first seem to be a gesture for him to stop what he was doing, pulling out the arrows, but they still needed to come out, and so Quinn made sure that they did. Discomfort or no, having them in wasn't going to make it better at all. So he kept himself aloof enough in the process, hearing the halfhearted growl, feeling the shuddering. Dealing with it as if he were a little set apart from it all, because he couldn't let himself crack right here, right now. Sirius needed him to focus on the task at hand, and Quinn fully intended to do that. Even if he felt more drained than he thought he would from healing. Something seemed off still.
But he had no idea what, and he'd had to stop his healing attempts when he couldn't see anything wrong, because it was taking too much right now. Quinn couldn't stand that there was still something wrong and he couldn't help more, than he didn't know what was wrong, either, but all he could do was try again again later and wait it out until he had a more clear idea of what had happened to Sirius, how the vampire got this way. Quinn had heard Greyson saying that a friend of Sirius' had suggested to Greyson that they come here, and he had nodded his head to that. Seemed logical enough to Quinn, though he didn't get into all of that right now, because he had to focus on Sirius and what was going on.
It was when Greyson spoke again, telling him that Tanner led the human to Sirius. Quinn tensed, paused in movement at the sound of that name. He stared at Greyson for several long seconds, trying to figure out what that comment meant. Did Tanner come back somehow? Was that why Sirius had needed to leave for the day? And yet, what the hell would they have gotten up to to lead to this bloody state Sirius was in? And, if that was the case, why the hell hadn't Tanner come here as well? Quinn's stomach twisted this way and that over the idea in general, but right now he couldn't think like that. Couldn't deal with that stuff just yet. Maybe it was for the best, for Sirius. Quinn didn't seem to be good for anyone, after all.
And Quinn couldn't say anything about it, either. Had no real right to. He wasn't going to do anything about it, either, if Tanner was back, even if Sirius came home smelling of the male and sex. What right would Quinn even have over any of that? Over saying anything about it at all? After everything, Quinn couldn't really blame Sirius for finding comfort in others. He wouldn't like it, would have a hard time coming to terms with it being Tanner, too, but Quinn didn't deserve to say a damn thing about it. So he wasn't going to. He idly rubbed the spot on his finger, but there wasn't even an indent line there now; he'd removed the ring a week ago when it had struck him as so wrong being worn anymore.
He let his attention go back to the things that needed to be done, to getting Sirius in the house, under a blanket to be observed and tended to. Quinn had caught the half of a word as he was trying to move Sirius to the manor, realizing what it meant when Sirius lurched to the side, then to knees before shiny flecked blood was being purged from the vampire's system. Quinn was at his side, annoyed at himself for not thinking about poison laced weapons. Perhaps that was why he was having trouble with the healing, how draining it was. Still, Quinn was having trouble keeping his own focus sharp on everything going on right now. He was in a bad state of mind right now, and he wasn't too sure what to do.
Then Sirius was speaking of Adelaide, and Quinn was silent, glancing over at Greyson worriedly. Sirius was grabbing him, but Quinn smoothed back the vampire's blood matted hair in a comforting manner as he tried to figure out what he should do. Of course if Sirius' sister was out there somewhere, then someone would have said something by now. Greyson would have been told, with all else the human now already knew. Except right now Sirius was saying that hunters were somewhere -- explained the arrows and wounds, though Sirius had seen plenty of that before, so what had really gone on? -- and then was back on Adeliade being here. Quinn wasn't sure what to do about that, though.
But he didn't think Sirius would forgive him if Adeliade was out there in the clutches of hunters and Quinn did nothing about it. Tired as he was, he'd still try. Quinn eyed Greyson for a moment. "Did anyone say anything about his sister being around?" Because if Tanner was, then why the hell not? But honestly, Quinn wasn't sure he was up for such a task right now, and he hated himself for hoping that Sirius was just imagining things. Greyson's words about silver had Quinn worried more and inspecting Sirius, then Greyson was talking again, about not knowing what to do and asking, Quinn pointed at the manor. "Go find some blankets, since Sirius can't be moved just yet." He said bluntly. Then he was looking back at Sirius.
It felt like his heart was beating both too slowly for functionality and fast enough to send his blood in to a boil. Right about now he would have welcomed that, if there was even enough there to be useful in warming his tired body at this point. Things were happening that he didn't understand, couldn't, and that both terrified and comforted him. Maybe it was best he was as lost as he was in that moment, because those few moments of clarity before the ambush proved he had lost that safe disconnection somewhere in the massacre. The only thing standing between him and his feelings was the overwhelming confusion and disorientation.
It was reality that was disconnected from him, not the other way around. That had to be it, didn't it? He had gotten lost somewhere in time and now the fabric of it was frayed and restitched in to improper places. He teetered on the edge of realities, taking glimpses from both sides fluidly before being tossed back in to the other. Eventually, one bled in to the other, until he was craving the separation again. Even if it meant coming back to the agony of those slow glaciers burning through his veins. Some sort of stability would have been great on either end, but he didn't have the capacity to figure out how to achieve it.
No, instead, he fell further and further in to it. Those icy fingers crawled up his throat, drawing a halfhearted growl of confusion and pain from him as he clung to Tarquin's leg. In his mind, he didn't know it was him, or even a leg he held on to, just that Adelaide was in danger and he needed to do something about it. Yet, he froze, feeling the rustle of his hair as it was touched, a brush of fingers against his skin. His breathing seemed to stop suddenly, caught in his throat as if someone had wrapped their fingers around it. He went still, impossibly so, only given away by the eventual slight tremble that traveled along his body.
"She died..." He mumbled, his brow furrowing as he shakily dragged himself closer in against the other male. "Dead...all dead..." Sharp pain lanced through him, and he reached up instinctively to his head. His limbs felt as if they were being pulled downwards by invisible hands, and the single moment of clarity left him as quickly as it had come. He drew in a sharp, sudden breath. Sirius saw fire and lava, rendering trees to ashy logs and assimilated rock down in to nothingness. It was so bright he raised a hand to shield his eyes against the invisible light, felt the heat searing his skin as he caught glimpses of the hulking black figure in the midst of it all.
There was no energy to fight her. He was lucky to survive Tiamat the first time, there would be no escaping her a second time. She was back for whatever he stole from her that gave him that new view of his existence. He needed that to survive. To continue on like this and somehow be okay after everything settled in to place in his life, after all the obstacles had been placed in front of him. The look that overcame his face was one of pure panic. Sirius slipped backwards, eyes wide in horror as she crawled towards him on all fours. Forgotten was Tarquin and Adelaide.
He couldn't get far however, he didn't have the energy. The vampire was mumbling something unintelligible in his native language, too quick and panicked to be understandable by anyone who happened to be listening. He let go of the other male, sliding backwards against the ground as he struggled to grab some sort of leverage to push himself back. It wasn't possible for the skin under his drying blood to get any paler. There wasn't much that he was afraid of, but this had to be one of those rare things. Her returning to finish the job, even though he knew that she was dead.
Sirius would be inconsolable at this point, still trying to weakly push himself backwards along the ground away from her, but unable to resist if he was stopped. By this time Tanner was no longer willing to sit by and let the living handle this, but he couldn't say his piece without Greyson being there. He paced anxiously nearby, watching in horror at the other male as he fell deeper in to whatever was happening inside his brain. Hallucinations? Memories?
By the time the younger man had returned, he was was shaking and sobbing again. "Tell him to stop him, knock him out, something." He demanded, gesturing to the wild panicked state Sirius was in, the frantic back and forth of his unfocused eyes. "We can't begin to imagine what he's seeing, but look at what it's doing to him..." It was as if Sirius could hear him, and on cue his hoarse voice broke the silence as he bared his teeth towards the emptiness. There was nothing there, but his eyes found something to focus on. "Never...I need this...My life...all my life, needed...can't have it back..."
Greyson had made the assumption that perhaps Quinn knew Tanner, but it didn't occur to him that Quinn would assume Tanner had come back to life. Greyson had become so used to the ghosts, sometimes he forgot they weren't normal. Sometimes he assumed if he taked about a dead person, everyone would understand. He knew it wasn't so, but he still acted like it was from time to time. Right now while his mind was bouncing so wildly about what needed to be done and what he might be able to do was one of those times. If he had realized saying something would cause more internal turmoil he wouldn't have told Quinn who, maybe would have specified a ghost even. But not right now, not as he was trying to keep up.
Greyson stayed close, watching everything between Quinn and Sirius, trying to see what he could do to help. Words came from Quinn, a question about Sirius's sibling, and Greyson looked to Tanner. He had said she was dead on the walk here, so no, right? He looked at the ghost for a moment before he shook his head regardless of whether the male said anything. "No.. Tanner said she died..." There was a pause, and Greyson glanced to Sirius. Maybe he should ask, but right now he wasn't sure that was the best thing. No, instead he needed to know what he could do. Blankets. Okay.
Greyson wasted no time, not even a second, before he was on his feet and sprinting towards the door. Despite the fact his act had fallen, the fact he had broken down and found himself in this moment, he still did not hesitate. One thing that was very true about Greyson was how he would not hesitate, if he needed to do something or felt like it should be done he would act on it right then and there. He never knew how much time he might get to act on it, afterall. He was in the estate and opening every door he could, not stopping for anything that wasn't immediately visible. He came out only a few minutes later, but to him it felt like far too long.
His return was met with a frantic ghost and this wild look to Sirius. Words from both and Greyson was struggling to keep up. Knock him out? No. "No, I'm not going to do that, or tell him to do that... There's something wrong, and he cant tell us if he isn't awake." There was a low sound from Greyson, ignoring the way that the ghost was trying to talk to him. He moved to Sirius, leaning down infront of him with so much concern on his expression. "Sirius..." The word was soft, and Greyson was still shaking softly. Words which made Greyson feel the need to say more, to make Sirius hear him. "Sirius, no one it taking anything from you..." He spoke softly, pain in his eyes to see the way Sirius was acting right here, the weak way that Sirius was trying to escape something. What was it? Was it real like Tanner, or was it in his head?
Greyson felt like if it was real, he would know. Greyson's vision was of everything that was actually there, that was what he had been born with. That was his gift, and the only part of his gift he bothered to learn about, the sight and the ability to summon. Regardless, there was more wrong here than just what was scaring Sirius. He could see it in Sirius, but also in the way Quinn kept changing, the way Quinn seemed unable to do something which was clearly freaking the other man out so much. Greyson glanced away from Sirius, only for a second - just a breif moment - to look at Tanner. He was right, he didn't know what Sirius was seeing, and he did know it was hurting him.. but there was so much more to this than just knocking him out, right?
I still think you're beautiful And I don't ever wanna lose my best friend.
Whatever there was going on with Tanner, Quinn didn't want to know, did not want to think about it. He needed to focus on what was going on with Sirius right now, and any conversations they needed to have later, well. There would be time for that after, once Sirius was better. Quinn wasn't going to even try to ask about it now, wasn't interested in any of the issues that could come of it. Quinn could barely function as it was, and had only started to act like he could take care of himself. Maybe that was why Sirius had stuck around; because Quinn had been too catatonic the first few days and probably wouldn't have even bothered to eat or anything else without Sirius there to prod him along.
Now that Quinn was moving around and able to do things for himself, could drag himself through getting washed and dressed, then maybe that was it. Where Sirius was going when he left today. It didn't matter. If that's what Sirius needed, then Quinn would keep his mouth shut and keep going as he currently was. Deal with things as they came at him. Like what was going on now, and the possibility that there was more to this situation here. But Greyson had answered him, told him that Tanner said Adeliade had died. Quinn nodded; that was what he'd remembered. Then again, things went sideways and upside-down all the time. Quinn couldn't really put anything past anyone or any of that.
Sirius had a hold of his leg, but Quinn didn't move, let Sirius do whatever he needed to do. And the words from the vampire gained a soft sigh from Quinn. At least that part was remembered now. Quinn wasn't sure what was going on in Sirius' mind, but it couldn't be good if he was imagining people. Quinn was almost afraid of what sorts of things Sirius might say in this state. There were some things that Quinn wouldn't want to hear about, if they were indeed going on. Not right now. Maybe that was messed up, but Quinn wasn't in a good enough place to hear it from Sirius, to hear whatever unfiltered version of it that could be said while Sirius was like this. He couldn't help that fear, though.
Of course then Sirius was acting strangely again, and the panic on the vampire's face had Quinn looking quickly around and seeing nothing aside from Greyson bringing back blankets. Nothing to be concerned about, though Sirius wasn't looking at Greyson anyway, but something that wasn't even there. All in his head, and Quinn had no idea how to help. How to make any of this better. It terrified him. Sirius trying to move away, the words Quinn couldn't make out that was mumbled all together and then Sirius had let go of him and was struggling to get away. From him? Quinn's eyes were wide and hurt and he just knelt there, staring at Sirius and seeing the fear there in the vampire's expression.
Quinn couldn't even think about whatever Greyson was saying; didn't catch any of it while his mind was twisting about with the information that Sirius had struggled to get away from him, was wearing that expression. The words, too, that finally came from Sirius had Quinn's heart aching, because he didn't know what was going on, and all he could think of was that this was his fault, and those words were damning towards him. Quinn's gaze dropped to the ground, not even seeing that Sirius was looking at something else, something not there at all. He knew that Greyson was trying to talk to Sirius, snap him out of whatever was going on, and Quinn could no longer be of use as he remained where he was.
The noise he'd made when Greyson said that no one was taking anything from Sirius was like mournful keening, but still Quinn didn't look at them. Couldn't make himself do that just now. Because if anything, he had taken something from Sirius, and that guilt and horror was consuming him all over again. He wasn't paying attention to the rest of what was going on. He was too lost in his own mind, in the fact that he thought that Sirius just wanted to get away from him. Nothing was going well, and Quinn had simply learned far too much today than he could handle. Sirius not wanting to even be near him -- that fear and panic on the vampire's face, those words -- the Tanner thing? It was too much, too soon.
Quinn didn't even know how to help Sirius if the vampire didn't want him near. That in and of itself had Quinn worried, but he wouldn't leave, not without knowing Sirius would be okay, and the vampire certainly was not okay right now. It wasn't until he realized that Sirius had attacked Greyson that Quinn shook himself from what was going on in his mind enough to try and get between the two of them. To keep Sirius' attention on him. Not that Quinn intended to do anything aside from that; not even defend himself. As far as Quinn was concerned, he deserved to be tossed around like a chew toy. So he went in simply to give Greyson time to get away, keep Sirius focused on him. Might as well, if Sirius was going through this because of him.
Fear wasn't something he tended to experience from his personal point of view, usually only interacting with it when it was emanating from those around him. Whether it was bravery, stupidity, or some sort of ability he had to train the emotion out of himself...Sirius didn't feel such a thing but once every hundred years or more. He felt it was simply because not much could surprise him these days, and surprise was the ultimate weapon against him besides his hard won trust. Tiamat had surprised him, been sorely underestimated by him, and he had paid a dear price for that in one of the most intense fights for his life he had ever experienced.
Luck. Not skill, but pure luck brought him out relatively okay on the other side save for the damaged eye and a couple other intense internal injuries. He wasn't so old and confident as to think that he could pull the whole thing off a second time. That battle had changed him, somehow. Made him better, somehow stronger, and added an extra piece to his existence that made so many more doors and paths open up for him. It was something he never knew he had been missing, but now he couldn't imagine living without this rationality, without that crystalline stability. Sure, stable was relative, but it was hard to explain in better terms what had gone on within him.
With everything going on in their lives, with everything more that he was sure was left to come, he may not be able to exist if she came and took that back from him. If she didn't just kill him in the extraction process, of course. That was what made this all the more terrifying of a moment, to be staring down that black mass as it converged on him. He was in a special kind of state, one just focused enough to realize the massive amount of imminent danger he was in, but also far gone enough that all he saw was her and he could not escape the illusion.
The hungry flames were hot against his cold skin, hearing the crackle and pop of molten rock as it rolled sluggishly over the creature's feet along the ground. There were sharp rows of fangs in that gaping maw, the only speck of color besides the brilliant blood red eyes that stared him down. The desperate, frustrated sound as she knelt down in front of him. Greyson didn't immediately snap in to the place of the demi god in his vision, but he heard his name spoken so close. Too close. It was in a thin, teasing woman's voice right next to his face. Sirius... He tried to stand again, but couldn't seem to get his legs to work correctly.
The desperate need to flee was overcome by an even more frantic need as he watched long black claws out stretch for him. Fight. Fight for his life. "No!" He yelled at the figure, and it was as if a switch flipped somewhere inside of him. To anyone else, it would seem as if that sightless eye...was crying fire. Flames licked outwards from it's edges as it glowed blue and white. It didn't seem to burn or hurt him, in fact he hadn't noticed it at all as he let out a heavy, hoarse growl. The change was so sudden and violent that his nails ripped rivulets through the ground as they became claws, the wolf already shaking it's head and gnashing it's teeth in brief confusion having returned to the world so quickly.
It was gone almost as soon as it came, however, and it's great head swung around to face Tiamat without much hesitation. Except, what Sirius did not realize, Greyson and Tiamat had become one and the same here. The gurgling, grating sound of the wolf's snarl was the only warning as instinct took over and it managed to find it's footing on some new, unknown source of power. Only barely, though. It was unsteady, but desperation made him push all of his remaining energy in to one last attack. He leapt over the short distance, his teeth sinking home in the other's shoulder as all of his weight pushed the body down to the ground. It shouldn't have been that easy, and the surprised of the lightness of the body caused him to become unbalanced and let go.
He rolled away, struggling to get back to his feet as his mind reeled. Breathing too hard, bloodied mouth ajar and tongue lolling over his teeth. The demigod was blurring, but he had to end this. He couldn't question it too hard, where this new power had come from or how much she weighed. What did he care if she had gone on a diet? One step, two steps, and he had to brace himself for a moment. The world had gone upside down, the creature swinging it's head and shuddering for a moment. A few more steps, and it was all he could do to put one paw in front of another. The fire was fading from his sightless eye, already having died down to a dull orange and red color.
Something was in front of him. Some invisible source that his nose bumped against, and the exhausted creature pushed his head forward as if he could take a wall down with it alone, but the thing in front of him was either too strong or he was too weak. All he succeeded in doing was leaning against it for a moment, succumbing to his exhausted confusion with a broken, low whine that shuddering as it left his throat. How did he fight something invisible? Impossible. It was in that moment that the fire dissipated from his eye, and the creature took a sharp breath. The change ripped back through him, but he couldn't recall intending to do that.
The fight was ripped from him, along with whatever consciousness he had left. The human Sirius slumped forward against the wall, eyelids fluttering as a heavy darkness fell over him. Black, suffocating emptiness. "Tar..quinn..." The man mumbled desperately, trying to grab a hold of something, anything, that could keep him upright. Sirius couldn't fight it any longer though, he was out like a light, drained to such an extent that his heart could barely beat in his chest.
Greyson hadn't had much attention on Quinn at all, there was so much going on around them - things Quinn couldn't see, even. Greyson had looked away for just a second, one short second. He didn't know what to do, what to think or say to bring Sirius back from what ever pit he had fallen into. He wanted Sirius to wake up, to stop being lost in himself, but he wasn't oing to get that at all here. His eyes snapped back to Sirius at the sound of the word, confusion written across his face as he saw that strange look behind his eye. "Sirius?"
The man was changing again, shifting into that wolf once more and Greyson didn't have a chance to react really before he saw the way Siriu's was lunging at him. His eyes were wide before the felt the wolf's teeth dig into his shoulder and he cried out in the pain. The sound was natural, hurting and frightened. Sirius wasn't doing this to him, not really, and Greyson knew that as he fell back and felt the tug before Sirius had to let go as he tumbled as well. Heavy shocked breaths escaped Greyson, the tears finally returning to his eyes. He scrambled to try getting away from Sirius and he found himself on the ground not all that much further away, maybe a few feet closer to the house itself as that was the quickest direction to start running when he scrambled up briefly.
He had fallen, though, curling around his arm and grunting as he tried to fight the way his body made him want to scream. The bite hurt, sure, but there was so much more pain coursing through his veins than just the bite. It felt like he was on fire, like his blood was literally boiling below the surface of his skin. After a moment the grunts became whimpers, then sobs. The sobs were for more than just that physical pain, though. The sobs were for everything - for knowing that Sirius was hurting like this, knowing he had assumed Sirius gave up on him instead of looking to be sure the other man was okay. It was for knowing how lonely he was at his core, and all the emotions he'd shoved away until this moment.
Greyson did not cry often, and almost never with the sounds that were escaping him right now. Crying like this brought so much more to his surface to let out, and perhaps that was part of why it was so much worse than what it would have been with just the physical pain. The physical pain was something Greyson could deal with, grit his teeth and maybe a short sound that couldn't really be helped, but that would have been it. His hand was trying to put pressure on the bloody shoulder to make it stop, but all he was doing was getting his and Sirius's mixed up because the other males blood was already all over him from where Greyson had carried him. His hand was creating more of that burn over his entire body, and sealing the fate on what was to come from all of this later. He had no clue what he was doing, what he had done.
He had curled into himself by now, hiding himself like a turtle. He didn't expect anyone by his side, he didn't expect anything to provide support. He expected to be left to cry it out and then do what ever came next. That's how it had always been for Greyson, left alone when it counted. Abandoned and turned away because he wasn't safe to be around or because he didn't meet expectations. Left by himself because he was a curse for bad things to come around. Was this his fault, even? Did him spending too much time with Sirius put that curse onto him? Hyperventilating and shaking had Greysons body feeling exhausted, along with the physical damages to add to it. Greyson wasn't going to be moving anywhere for a while, not unless someone else moved him.
I still think you're beautiful And I don't ever wanna lose my best friend.
Quinn had flighty emotions and thus felt a fair amount of fear. Most of it was his fear of loss, his fear for others and things like that. He didn't like most people knowing that he felt that fear, that he had weaknesses that could probably be exploited in the right situation. It was why he was so quick to act and turn to violence, to keep these things from becoming too well known by anyone he did not trust to some extent. And he knew that he did not always trust the right people; that was made very clear by some of his past life choices. Perhaps by some of them that weren't exactly what he would call 'past' right now, even. Then again, Quinn had never expected Raine to turn on him like the young vampire had.
He hadn't thought that Raine had it in him to be like that. Then again, Quinn hadn't foreseen Raine going through what happened just before that terrible conversation, either. Quinn had been surprised more than once that night, and while he had embraced the first surprise without blinking, the fact that Raine had become cold to him, cruel to him? That was too far after everything else. Maybe Quinn deserved that, but either way, he felt much more closed off when it came to the idea of trusting others so close. Quinn didn't want anyone new around that could manage to get close to him, no one that could matter. No one that he would be truly angry about if they ended up dead.
Which opened up a whole new can of worms to inspect later, since his emotions weren't currently rational enough to think on anything more than the way he felt right now, and what was happening to Sirius. The feeling that he was the one that Sirius didn't want to be near. Not that Quinn could blame Sirius, considering all the emotional shit Quinn had put the vampire through. Quinn let that cause havoc within his mind as things started to go sideways even more with Greyson's antics. Quinn had only moments to notice the white and blue fire from the eye that Sirius lost vision in, and it was pretty unsettling to see in the white wolf form in all honesty. But that didn't stop Quinn from trying to keep Sirius away from Greyson.
A little too late, yes. Because Greyson's shoulder had already been bitten into, and the human was still on the ground when Quinn went to move in front of Sirius to block the over-large wolf from doing more damage. All Sirius had done was lean against him after bumping a nose against him, and then with a whine, Sirius had shifted back and slumped forward against him again. Quinn's arms were already going around the vampire, hearing the way Sirius said his name before grabbing for him and then Quinn was certain that Sirius was unconscious. Quinn held Sirius there for a few minutes, and then he carefully moved to check on Greyson, sighing when he saw the human curled up there.
With a frown, Quinn leaned down and tried to heal the worst of the damage from the bite, but in the end Quinn couldn't fix it all with being this drained at the moment. The bleeding should have stopped, but there were still slightly open cuts where the bite had been. Good enough, it would have to be. At least for now. "If you can get to the manor, you can crash on the couch for a bit." It was all he could offer right now, because Sirius was where his priority was at, and he wouldn't be able to carry both into the manor anyway. He turned and went to lift Sirius up in his arms, moving slowly due to how exhausted he currently was. But he did manage to settle Sirius into a bed, curling up with the vampire for a bit, tired as he was.