Jerry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
400yearsofsurvival) wrote2014-09-13 12:04 pm
400yearsofsurvival) wrote2014-09-13 12:04 pm
7th Bite // Mild CW for lasting fire damage and injuries
[ Spam ] // [ Open ]
[ He could finally leave the infirmary. Whether his "doctor" wanted it or not. He had strength enough to walk. The most severe of the damage had been healed. It would have gone faster if anyone had allowed him to feed properly. But he doubted that overgrown boy scout watching over him would have allowed it. His extremities were still heavily bandaged. As was his neck and chest. His face was more or less healed, faint scaring that would fade with time. Frustratingly, though, his hair was a bit slower than the rest of him. His eyebrows were more or less grown back, but the rest of his head was slow to catch up. Leaving him with only the roughest cover of hair.
He was surprised to find his cabin in at least semi-working order. That was perhaps more unexpected than having been dragged out of the fire. And he, thankfully, found he still had clothes.
Should anyone working on the repairs of his cabin try to come in that day, they would be greeted with a rather nasty surprise. Mostly due to who the work crew was. He had no intent of playing nice with the perpetrators of this. Specifically Dean.
Later, he could be found about the ship. He's not moving nearly as smooth as he used to. And he's keeping to the shadows more than usual. And for the first time since his arrival, he can be found in the dining hall actually consuming his blood rations. Don't expect him to be in the best of moods. ]
[ Spam ] // [ Stiles (and a bit for Lydia) ]
[ He was starting to feel like himself again. And that meant resuming what he'd been doing before his little accident. Keeping an eye on those infuriating teenagers. Little did he know how much he might resemble something from their past, as he allowed them only the smallest glimpses of him. With his burned and bandaged hands and arms. Lydia would see little more than shadows. But with Stiles, he allowed himself to be seen. Watching.
That evening, though, he stopped watching. He found Stiles in the dining hall. He pulled out a chair opposite the kid and sat down. Calmly eating an apple. Staring hard. ]
((SEVERE CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THREADS. Specifically with Stephen: biting, blood, massive dubcon behavior))
[ He could finally leave the infirmary. Whether his "doctor" wanted it or not. He had strength enough to walk. The most severe of the damage had been healed. It would have gone faster if anyone had allowed him to feed properly. But he doubted that overgrown boy scout watching over him would have allowed it. His extremities were still heavily bandaged. As was his neck and chest. His face was more or less healed, faint scaring that would fade with time. Frustratingly, though, his hair was a bit slower than the rest of him. His eyebrows were more or less grown back, but the rest of his head was slow to catch up. Leaving him with only the roughest cover of hair.
He was surprised to find his cabin in at least semi-working order. That was perhaps more unexpected than having been dragged out of the fire. And he, thankfully, found he still had clothes.
Should anyone working on the repairs of his cabin try to come in that day, they would be greeted with a rather nasty surprise. Mostly due to who the work crew was. He had no intent of playing nice with the perpetrators of this. Specifically Dean.
Later, he could be found about the ship. He's not moving nearly as smooth as he used to. And he's keeping to the shadows more than usual. And for the first time since his arrival, he can be found in the dining hall actually consuming his blood rations. Don't expect him to be in the best of moods. ]
[ Spam ] // [ Stiles (and a bit for Lydia) ]
[ He was starting to feel like himself again. And that meant resuming what he'd been doing before his little accident. Keeping an eye on those infuriating teenagers. Little did he know how much he might resemble something from their past, as he allowed them only the smallest glimpses of him. With his burned and bandaged hands and arms. Lydia would see little more than shadows. But with Stiles, he allowed himself to be seen. Watching.
That evening, though, he stopped watching. He found Stiles in the dining hall. He pulled out a chair opposite the kid and sat down. Calmly eating an apple. Staring hard. ]
((SEVERE CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THREADS. Specifically with Stephen: biting, blood, massive dubcon behavior))
Spam
You do know who my inmate is, right?
Spam
Dean.
Spam
Still certain I don't have contingency plans...guy?
Spam
For this, you don't. Guy.
[ But he his own contingency plans to keep anyone he turned away from the hunter. ]
Spam
Then I guess we'll wait and see, won't we?
Spam
Looking forward to it.
Spam
Spam
Catch you later, then.