multiversallogs | Can You Imagine Us, Years From Today

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Can You Imagine Us, Years From Today

Who: Ivan and Mitchell

What: Getting up to speed

Where: A cafe, probably in Mafaton

When: Backdated to a few hours after Mitchell's arrival

Notes: This may or may not go well.

Warnings: None so far, except for neither of them being at all a good person.

Ivan spent the hours that Mitchell was using to settle himself mainly in continuing his ongoing search for a new apartment. He'd set himself up in a temporary space, but since travel wasn't an option, he wanted some place comfortable to settle. (And some place that he could pay Njoki to ward properly.)

He wasn't precisely displeased to see Mitchell in Baedal, though it was strange, having someone from home arrive. In fact, however, Ivan was more disappointed than anything. Saving Mitchell had been impulsive, and he'd no guarantee he could have survived if he hadn't, but he'd still hoped Mitchell would have carried on with his second chance a bit longer than he had.

Perhaps the story would at least be entertaining. One could always hope.

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He doesn't react (almost carefully) to the mention of Daisy. "Love will do that, yes." Ivan studies Mitchell for a moment, then said, "I doubt the situation was very conducive to staying on the wagon."

"I killed over twenty people." It's said rather flatly, but at least has the decency to look ashamed at his next confession: "Twelve of them in a train carriage."

"Twenty? There was a time that would have been a slow day for you," he observes. It's quiet, though, more observational than mocking.

"The newspapers didn't seem to think so." Then again, it wasn't as though they were creeping about in the night time. In fact they had both been rather colourful about the entire thing, blood sprays and all. "And with no one running the show..."

He'll just let that peter out. Ivan can no doubt guess what a disaster everything was.

"I can't imagine there was much of a show left to run. Did anyone but you make it out?" Daisy hadn't been there in the first place, but nearly everyone else had.

Mitchell shakes his head. "Only the ones who never showed up." Or were incapacitated, like Cara, but he'll get to that in time.

"Then Kemp managed to do something that forced Annie over to the other side. I came to my senses and we left, in fact we moved. Lucy came looking for us to apologise, Kemp followed and killed her." He doesn't really expect Ivan to care about those details so much, but it leads onto, "And then Annie managed to find a Door and drag him in with her. She was still trapped there, though. I found a way to cross over and get her."

You know how it is: do the dishes, pick up a pint of milk, cross over to Purgatory. The server comes back over and puts his coffee on the table and he smiles up at them with a 'thanks.' "That's mostly why I was so confused about this place."

"Annie's your ghost," he clarifies, just to make sure he got it right. And then, once the waiter is gone, he said, "Do you have any idea where Daisy went? After you moved."

He nods in reply to the query about Annie. As for Daisy, "I don't. I stopped killing and she wanted to keep going. I never heard from her after we moved to Wales." He's maybe a little too casual the way he adds a sugar to his coffee and stirs. Something to focus on rather than give himself away.

Although what he said was the truth to the best of his knowledge. McNair told only Herrick about a vampire named Daisy and, as far as Mitchell knows, only Cara resurrected Herrick.

Edited 2011-11-05 13:32 (UTC)

Ivan nods. Truth be told, he's not overly optimistic about Daisy's survival on her own. She was too prone to piss off the wrong people, and suddenly Ivan wouldn't be a deterrent for those people striking back. But maybe he was underestimating her. (...unlikely.)

He was quiet, then, for a bit. "So you went clean again, after you moved. And found a way in and out of the afterlife, that's clever of you."

"It didn't go as smoothly as I hoped." As Ivan can no doubt imagine with these sorts of things. Neither did Mitchell, at the time, but it didn't stop him. He can be extremely obstinate about getting what he wants, although the consequences are rarely thought out. "There were people waiting for me on the other side. The people I killed. I got Annie back but one of them told me I was going to die soon. Killed by a werewolf."

There's a tight little smile as he remembers his interaction with Lia and her prophesy. "A wolf-shaped bullet."

"Someone has a flair for melodrama," Ivan says with a snort. "A wolf-shaped bullet indeed."

"Mm." Which is in agreement, albeit he knows he deserved what he got. "Then the Old Ones requested me to join them after everything to do with the massacre. I didn't. Oh, and someone found a way to ressurect Herrick. Yeah."

"And seeing as I'd recently been given a death sentence, I went about trying to find out how to come back to life. It didn't work. In the meantime, I was trying to stop being found out about the massacre, which didn't go well. First I was almost arrested, then someone covered it up. And I realised that whoever had done it would want a pretty big favour and I just...couldn't. Wyndham turned up at the end. So. I asked George to kill me. And he did."

There's a lot more to it, obviously. Parts of which he left out intentionally, parts which he might elaborate upon later. And behind it all, despite trying to keep things calm, his nerves still feel very, very fraught, which doesn't help.

Edited 2011-11-05 14:34 (UTC)

"...someone resurrected Herrick," he repeats, slowly. "What did Herrick think of you letting your pet wolf rip him apart?" Ivan intends to unpack this a little at a time; he's fairly certain Mitchell isn't just completely mad, but it's a lot to sort through.

"He couldn't remember anything at first. He didn't even know he was a vampire." Mitchell looks at Ivan, with a tired expression of 'can you believe that?' "We kept him in the house, upstairs. After the police came to arrest me, all those humans around, he must have snapped. He killed the lot of them, then he impersonated an officer and came to let me out."

"He stabbed George's girlfriend, Nina. Then he put me and George in a cage, taunted him with it, tried to turn us against each other. A werewolf friend of George's came and I tricked us into getting out." He stares at the table as he speaks, remembering everything that had gone by in the last twenty-four hours all too clearly.

"Mate, it sounds like you need a drink stronger than coffee," he says, after considering all of that. "I can't imagine he was thrilled with the prospect of Wyndham taking you away, though, if he knew."

Mitchell and Herrick had been like an abusive married couple ever since Mitchell was recruited, in Ivan's opinion. And in that vein, Herrick hadn't cared for anyone else getting their hands on Mitchell in any substantial way.

"A nice young woman let me out of the room and gave me whiskey. I'm not sure it was enough." The same young woman who has been speculating over Ivan's sex life with Ilde, which is surely a more fascinating kind of six-degrees in Baedel.

"I killed him." And then he realises he may have to be a bit more specific. "Herrick, I mean. I killed him."

Ivan nods, then. It had always seemed that one of them would kill the other, really, until a werewolf did it instead. It was, he supposes, sort of funny that the same werewolf ended up killing both of them.

He wonders if it would have been kinder to let Mitchell die with the rest of them in Bristol. He would have never had to know that the woman he'd loved betrayed him, for a start.

Ivan sips his coffee.

"Wyndham's not going to make it pleasant for your wolf, you know."

"I know." He thinks about George, Nina, the baby that's on the way. Annie. All of them stronger than they look and still very vulnerable.

"I still think they're better off without me. It's not--" he can feel his voice catching a little, and he steadies himself. "It's not that I don't want to be a good person. I tried, I really did. But I ended up just about ruining their lives anyway."

Ivan's smile is small and hard to read. "Well. It sounds like their lives are out of your hands now, regardless."

There's a bit of a pause before he asks, "What's it like here?" He could do with a change of topic and he knows talking about back home is only going to lead to (more) self-pity and volatile emotions.

Ivan lets him leave it for the time being. He's got enough to get a sense of Mitchell's frame of mind, and Mitchell wouldn't have news of anyone else Ivan particularly cared about.

"Strange," he says instead, in answer. "Vampires are out, here. Crurovores, you'll hear sometimes, to include those who consume flesh as well as blood. But they're not all quite like we're used to."

"I've been told a few details." When talking with Ilde, he had asked if it was like in horror movies, only to have the irony of his statement pointed out to him. "Any bigger differences I should know?"

"Well, before you go trying to convert everyone, some of them die if they stop drinking blood," he says, a bit dry. "On the other hand, bagged and artificial works for some of them, too. Up until recently, as long as you didn't take from anyone unwilling and didn't snub your nose at the city's higher powers, you were generally left alone."

"That's... Huh." He doesn't know what to say to that. Convenient? Incredibly simple? Instead he moves the subject on. "What happened recently?"

"There's a political group, decided to run a campaign against our kind. Got a lot of the legit places closed down, turned public attention against us." He considers his coffee. "Those that could went into a sort of hibernation. The rest of us were left to manage. The city was handing out bagged since there was a shortage, and it got laced with something."

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