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[powerofgod]

@godric.northman | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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@terrence.ephemera

[requiemshark]

[ It doesn't cause him physical pain to send a message to the person he picked a fight with while nearly blackout drunk, but it comes very fucking close. ]

guess i should thank you for not beating me unconscious

[ Unfortunately, Sharkface remembers exactly what he did. Just like he remembers waking up on the floor with a bastard of a headache and realizing someone had covered him with a blanket and left him a glass of water. Fucking hell. This needs to be dealt with before Godric decides to just tell everyone. ]

we should talk

[powerofgod]

Very well. Here or otherwise?

[requiemshark]

Roof.

[ Morningstar probably didn't intend anyone to climb it, but Sharkface likes being up high. And there probably won't be anyone else around. ]

@terrence.ephemera

[requiemshark]

Thought about what you said.

[ About wanting a friend instead of a lackey. Sharkface isn't sure he believes it, but he sat with the question for a long time after talking with Angela. Wondering where he stood with her, where he stands with other people. The lines have blurred, just a little. And he's started to wonder, why not? Why not stand next to people he likes and spend time with them? He's already gotten to the point where he'd kill someone if it meant protecting Angela or Gene, and not because they're useful to him. But because he doesn't want them to be hurt and the world seemed well positioned to do just that.

It's a strange, dangerous thought. One he's only beginning to define the edges of. It cannot last, and he knows that, but maybe he could try to be Ephemera for real.

Just for a little while. ]

Anyway. Thought you might appreciate this.

[ He sends over a picture. It's taken inside the apartment he's been crashing in. The lighting isn't very good, but it shows a wide expanse of wall, the hint of a ceiling above. And on it someone has painted a mural in acrylics, depicting a sunrise over a Morningstart safehouse. The colors are vibrant and heavy, the shadows a little too thick to be entirely realistic. The buildings rise with the sun, ghostly faces peering out of dark windows. Too distant to see clearly, but paying witness nonetheless. And at the center, the sun is rising the light chases back the dark. ]

[powerofgod]

( it's its own answer. he hadn't wanted to assume which side the boy would come down on, but this is... a step, perhaps.

he studies the picture for a long time. memorizing the lines, the places where the paint dipped into shadow. godric has lived a very long time and, as needs demanded, descended into the hedonism of the renaissance age. he has known artists whose names have been remembered by history and those that time has forgotten. he remembers them all. oddly, it is one of the only things that has ever been very good at moving him. art was very important to his people, though little of theirs has survived.

this is a statement. a moment. frozen, suspended in oil and acrylic. )

Is this your answer?

action;

[doesitanyway]

[ Trevor has committed the sketch of Godric to memory, with no such image of the more violent vampire to reference. He scans every face he passes in the city just in case, a small newly carved wooden blade in his pocket. It had been luck to find a fallen branch in one of the gardens.

Imagine his surprise when he recognizes the face not in a dark alley on his way back from the bar, but in the Safehouse. He's sitting placidly on one of the cots, motionless and impossibly pale. It's a wonder Trevor hasn't spotted him before, but the place is awfully crowded these days.

He walks directly up to Godric, who appears younger than him but Trevor knows that is a lie. The creature is likely ancient. ]

Vampire.

[powerofgod]

( he troubles himself to blink, to glance upwards. he is prone to drifting, losing sense of the time. it is an inhuman thing, yes, though not specifically vampiric.

yet, for someone to mark him as a vampire without preamble... that infers that he has spoken to someone to whom godric has divulged the information. he inclines his head to the man, unconcerned. )

Am I to call you 'human', then, or might you have a name I can use?

( how many would seek him out with purpose, and throw down that word like a gauntlet? precious few. and no fear, not in the smell of him, not on his face. it has been many years since he's killed a hunter, but they do exist. it would not surprise him overmuch to learn this man among their number. )

@richard.grayson

[identifier]

Hey, how are you doing?

[powerofgod]

Well, Mr. Grayson. And yourself?

@silena.beauregard

[chocolateries]

You wouldn't happen to have been recently kidnapped, would you?

[ keepin' it casual in case he hasn't :) ]

[powerofgod]

Yes.

And you?

@quentin.coldwater

[filloryfanatic]

Hi Godric it's Quentin, you have a few minutes?

[powerofgod]

Of course.

( he is the very soul of brevity. )

@trevor.belmont

[doesitanyway]

Godric. I have neither seen nor heard of you since the expeditions... are you well?

[powerofgod]

I am.

What of yourself?

( 'well' is relative. he is healthy and, save for the knife wound he sustained in the alley fight prior to angela's intervention, unharmed. being human is another story, and one he would prefer not divulge over the implants. for what it is worth, he still very much prefers face to face engagements. )

@terrence.ephemera

[requiemshark]

I need a favor.

[ He sends over the location of a local hospital. ]

Angela's there. Someone should be with her when she wakes up. Can you do that?

[powerofgod]

And where will you be in this time?

( he's already moving, but it bears asking. )

@silena.beauregard

[chocolateries]

[ it's very late (or early, depending on how you look at it), but silena is awake and she doesn't know how godric is adapting to his newfound need for sleep. caroline seems unaffected but maybe she needed sleep in the first place? ]

You up?

[powerofgod]

Yes. What do you need?

@quentin.coldwater

[filloryfanatic]

[After they all wake up!]

Hi Godric. Eliot I think is gone so I'm going to go to the Red Wings safehouse for a little while because it sucks being without him. Thanks for letting us stay, you're the best, I hope I'll see you at RW. I'll get you a drink if you do. <3

[powerofgod]

Very well.

Is there anything you need from me?

( bereavement is never easy, especially when the parting is done in such uncertain times. he is no doubt maintaining a stiff upper lip, but — it costs him nothing to offer. )

@quentin.coldwater (hope you don't mind! can ignore if so)

[filloryfanatic]

Hey. Checking in on you, are you okay?

[powerofgod]

Mr. Coldwater.

I am as I ever am, which is to say I lack for nothing. What of yourself?

@torvan.garak

[plainsimple]

[during the invasion:]

Do you know a bat that communicates with lights?

[powerofgod]

I'm sorry, I'm unfamiliar with such a creature.

( he does consider, briefly, writing this off as a wrong number or something similarly coincidental, but. hadn't one of the displaced spoke on the network about people being transformed by the monsters?

there is a pause, and then his next message comes: )

One individual I know uses light powers, but he is human, generally. I assume he managed to convey my name to you?