| on unexpected chances. (garrett and kol)

[wingshapes]

some are not quite as immortal as all that.

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[getseven]

[This isn't something that will become a habit. Kol isn't going to become a substitute for Garrett paying attention, and that's the thing he cares about, because the vampire knows very well what happens to people who lean on him, having good faith in his favour. They're sheep seeking out a wolf in hope of protection. It ends something like that, too.

He considers baring his fangs here, sharing part of a secret he's kept from the entirety of this world so far, except the dead. Instead, he snatches up one of the arrows from the ground, slicing into his hand with the pointed tip, never so much as wincing. Without further ado, he drops the arrow and shoves the bleeding cut at the thief.]

Drink.

[He can make Garrett do it, but he's not sure if he would. The cut is deep enough, red flowing freely into his palm and dripping down, trickling down his wrist. Restraint is not Kol's strong suit.]

[blackhand]

[It is a rare instance, because Garrett will never rely on Kol to save him. He relies on no one but himself, and that habit won't change, even if the other saves his life. So there is no regret or anger at choosing this now, as he knows it won't happen again.

But when Kol shoves his bleeding hand towards the thief, he pauses for a second, uncertain as to this being the way he wants to survive. And then he feels the wave of tiredness push itself on him again, and all that hesitation goes out the window. Weakly, he brings Kol's hand to his mouth, and does as he says. The taste of blood against his tongue isn't uncommon, at least in his younger years, but this is not exactly normal by any standards. Had he not been reduced to where he is now, his pride probably would have pushed through and made him refuse it.

As it stands, he knows this isn't a chance that will come again, so he takes it. He swallows, copper going down his throat, and then there's a blink before he even realizes what's happening.

The wound on his leg is healing. Physically healing itself, like the fibers and threads of a tapestry weaving itself back together after being torn apart. The hole he has in his shoulder is almost gone, as if he'd never been struck, and the one in his back? He can feel it push out the arrow tip lodged in there as if it was simply a flicker of annoyance. Garret can breathe again. He can breathe. Without being tired, without losing energy, it's as if he had never come across that struggle at all. Had never bled out in the streets like an idiot.

His head snaps back up to the other at that, a mixture of confusion and thanks and uncertainty all in one very clear in his eyes. Nothing like this exists here. Not even the Primal can do something this incredible. The thief keeps his mouth shut on asking, moving his limbs for the first time since collapsing there, and stands, not entirely sure what he should do. But the way his eyes flicker all around him, especially how his right eye glows and then recedes, says enough for him in the silence.

What the fuck was that, Kol.]

[getseven]

[He's not sure when he last used his blood to heal a mortal. Perhaps a very long time ago, but after a century of nothing, the dates are tricky to keep straight anyway. Kol witnesses this miracle, watches Garrett's face as he realizes what's happening, and all he does is carefully reach around him to remove the arrow out of his back he has not been able to. An easy gesture to misunderstand, caring and nearly gentle in appearance, when he cares only about the result.

Kol's so used to ending life, it's a different sight to see when life returns into someone, the light of it flaring up again instead of being extinguished. As he withdraws his hand, it will seem like a minor thing to Garrett that his flesh, too, knits itself back together, the cut on his hand quickly vanishing.

Kol rises to his feet alongside Garrett. Gratitude is not something he's used to seeing directed at himself. Not at all, not in the least, and certainly not something he's used to inspiring, except perhaps to break it right down again the next moment, witnessing hope turn into despair.
Even now, his smile has a predatory edge - even now, he would still be percieved as a threat, despite the help given. In a city where nothing is free and everything has more catches than you'd like to believe, he still isn't planning on holding it over him. Not only is it a small thing for him to do from his perspective, but it yielded more than enough entertainment for him to make up for the minor inconvenience of pain. Not for the first time, Kol feels profoundly alien in this city, but relishes in it. There's something intense about the touch of cold and terrifying alone-ness, knowing that his nature is truly singular, here, shared not even with his family, not even with an immortal creature thousands of years ago.

And yet. And yet, the gratitude is uncomfortable. Sits at odds with him and what he's been for centuries. The urge to tear, to break, to kill rears its very familiar head. For now, Kol keeps it in check.

And as usual, he explains nothing. The result is satisfying enough though. Once again, the mechanical eye glows its eerie blue, and he sees the wakefulness returned to the thief, heightened now after what has happened to him. Wouldn't you like to know. Well, honestly, no, he probably wouldn't.]

[blackhand]

[For the longest moment, Garrett stares at Kol, eye flaring as he is unsure of what to say, or even do, at this point. He's been given a second chance, a whole point in which he can go about doing things as he should. Most would thank the other and shout in joy, cry, perhaps offer some kind of thanks through embrace or something similar.

But this is Garrett, and Garrett is not one who does thanks or gratitude like a normal person. So he shifts from foot to foot for a second, before swooping backwards into the darkness again. He knows Kol can see him, knows that making any effort to try and hide from him is pointless, so he doesn't. The thief simply turns, hooks the Claw onto a grate, pulls himself up, and heads towards the Clocktower.

It'll be a few days before he goes out again. He's no idiot. Much as he wants to go out and heist, he takes Kol's warning seriously, and so his plans will have to wait. Until then, the City will remain safe from at least one threat it carries in itself.]

[getseven]

[The Original remains. Still smiling, he watches as the thief makes his exit, having recieved all the words he expected to (none). For a short time Kol merely stands, listens to the relative silence of the city, an unending piece of human suffering of many kinds. And it occurs to him that perhaps he should even matters out now, take a life (or several) for the one he saved.

He crouches down, picking up one of the arrows with thumb and index finger, turning it around and over. After a few moments' consideration, he rises once more, the broken off arrow still in hand. The next instant, he's elsewhere already.]