[he's running on little to no sleep, exhausting himself and nodding off for maybe thirty minutes at a time, careful of Nick and what he might need. he knows he can heal himself, knows all he needs is rest, but that doesn't stop him from taking precautions - like laying in wait for a creature to come through the door (it never happens), and summoning one hellhound to guard the door should he step out.
its heat radiates into the entire room, so much that a window is cracked open just for the circulation of fresh air and a soft breeze. it's ... creepy, skulking around the room, too large for anything, too menacing to offer true comfort. it watches Nick more than it watches the door, eyes reflective in the dark and pitch black in the light. scorch marks are left wherever it walks, giant paw prints burned into wood.
August is out; left to grab supplies. now it's Nick and the hound.]
[ nick has--debated the presence of the hellhound, several times over, and then debated whether or not nick is allowed to pet the creature, and then debated the presence of them all over again, but well--it's hard to win a fight about needing protection when you were in very real danger only a few days ago.
so nick loses spectacularly each time the debate arises and the hellhound remains, and nick watches it lazily in return, tossing up on whether or not he can teach a creature spawned from the great inferno how to play fetch. it's not a bad way to spend the day, all in all. ]
orange no, apple if they have it
actually do they have any of that green juice? sorry
[the short answer is: no the hound won't fetch. the long answer: it always sits too far away to be touched (at the direct order of August), lacks any dog-like tendencies, and is not food motivated. this is not a friendly creature, and it will attack anyone else on sight.]
um no i dont think so do they have like granola bars
[ all the while watching the hound, naturally, his new companion. really it's a form of torture, a creature that nick physically can't befriend, and he gets up a couple of times and walks across the room just to watch the way that it observes him so intently before he climbs back into the bed.
it would be eerie, probably, if it were anyone else's. but august called this one, and so even the creepier habits of the summon don't make nick wary. ]
[the hound, one out of three and never named, prowls to sit by the door. wisps of shadow and smoke rises from its body. it growls if it so much as hears footsteps in the halls.]
[suddenly, he's opening the door, holding a bag full of everything that Nick mentioned, and more. he shuts the door behind him and slips off his shoes, walking to the bed. he hands Nick the green juice first, then a granola bar.]
Yes I can.
[he puts an extra juice on the bedside table, and puts the bag on the dresser. he'll deal with that later. he looks at the hound. the hound looks back. the two of them look like they could be communicating in some way, because the hound skulks through the adjoining bathroom and leaves.]
[ nick only barely resists the urge to call 'bye charlie' out after the hound as it skulks away, in the interest of not going out of his way to drive august insane. besides, there's a juice in his hand and he's pretty suitably distracted by that for now, stretching his legs out in front of him before he gestures to the rest of the space next to him. ]
Yes sir.
[ okay, maybe he's not actually that interested in not driving insane, but he does take a sip of the juice in question, so august can still consider it a win. ]
[that catches his attention. he shrugs off his jacket, drapes it over a nearby chair and crawls into bed. any unclean thoughts he has are wiped from his mind the second he touches the bed. he lays face down for a few seconds, or until he can't breathe anymore. he's so tired his eyes hurt, an annoying pain in his skull. rolling onto his side, he looks up at Nick, hair falling in front of his face.]
[ nick twists, tugging a leg up towards his chest so that he can cram in right next to august without his limbs getting in the way, and he reaches out his free hand to tug idly at the ends of the strands hanging loose in his face. ]
[ light and teasing, but there's a faint little twinge of concern caught up in there all the same. it's unsustainable, this constant vigil of august's, but they're past nick insisting that it's unnecessary, that he's fine, that a further attack isn't incoming.
so he saves his breath and just rubs an idle thumb between august's brows instead, willing some relief with the gesture. ]
You could sleep, for a bit. I'll stay here, watch something, I could wake you up in a little while.
[his lips quirk up to indicate a smile, one that quickly fades at the suggestion. he doesn't want to sleep, too locked on the possibilities of what could happen. he isn't being realistic, which he recognizes is his own fault. Nick is right -- he should rest.
his touch provides more relief than his magic, one that he leans in to. the hound is outside, Nick is recovering fine. there are no signs of threat.]
Only if you stay. I can't control what that thing does if you leave.
[ frankly because nick does believe august when he stresses how dangerous the creature is, even despite the silly names and the desire to throw a ball for it — there is something lingering and demonic in the room that even the open window can't chase out.
if he's really honest it's been a relief, one thing that he just hasn't had to worry about. nick doesn't think that he's in any danger, but that doesn't stop him from jerking violently awake on occasion all the same, hands clawing at his throat like he's trying to tear away a hand. ]
[he narrows his eyes when Nick refers to the hound as Charlie, but says nothing about it. instinctively, he reaches out to wrap his arm around Nick's waist, making him accommodate his limb however he sees fit. now he's definitely not going anywhere.]
[softly, gaze lowering:] I don't want your granola bar.
[it's not long before he's out, either from the white noise from whatever show or movie Nick decides to put on or from the rise and fall of his chest beneath his arm.
-
he wakes an hour later, groggy and disgruntled. he's a still sleeper, hardly moving. his grip around Nick has relaxed and his hand shifting along his waist is the only indicator that he's woken up.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@september | text, 2 days after vampire shenanigans
its heat radiates into the entire room, so much that a window is cracked open just for the circulation of fresh air and a soft breeze. it's ... creepy, skulking around the room, too large for anything, too menacing to offer true comfort. it watches Nick more than it watches the door, eyes reflective in the dark and pitch black in the light. scorch marks are left wherever it walks, giant paw prints burned into wood.
August is out; left to grab supplies. now it's Nick and the hound.]
what kind of juice do you want?
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so nick loses spectacularly each time the debate arises and the hellhound remains, and nick watches it lazily in return, tossing up on whether or not he can teach a creature spawned from the great inferno how to play fetch. it's not a bad way to spend the day, all in all. ]
orange
no, apple if they have it
actually do they have any of that green juice?
sorry
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yeah.
[this is him grabbing all three.]
you want anything else?
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no i dont think so
do they have like granola bars
[ all the while watching the hound, naturally, his new companion. really it's a form of torture, a creature that nick physically can't befriend, and he gets up a couple of times and walks across the room just to watch the way that it observes him so intently before he climbs back into the bed.
it would be eerie, probably, if it were anyone else's. but august called this one, and so even the creepier habits of the summon don't make nick wary. ]
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[granola bars....oh.]
and granola bars. that it?
[the hound, one out of three and never named, prowls to sit by the door. wisps of shadow and smoke rises from its body. it growls if it so much as hears footsteps in the halls.]
you're not staring at it, are you?
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obviously i'm staring at it
are you really sure it doesn't want to go for a walk or something
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it doesn't need a walk.
pretend it's a machine.
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its looking at me
do you name them?
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it's supposed to look at you.
no.
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stop
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something like that doesn't need a name.
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[suddenly, he's opening the door, holding a bag full of everything that Nick mentioned, and more. he shuts the door behind him and slips off his shoes, walking to the bed. he hands Nick the green juice first, then a granola bar.]
Yes I can.
[he puts an extra juice on the bedside table, and puts the bag on the dresser. he'll deal with that later. he looks at the hound. the hound looks back. the two of them look like they could be communicating in some way, because the hound skulks through the adjoining bathroom and leaves.]
Drink your juice.
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Yes sir.
[ okay, maybe he's not actually that interested in not driving insane, but he does take a sip of the juice in question, so august can still consider it a win. ]
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No one came by, right?
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[ nick twists, tugging a leg up towards his chest so that he can cram in right next to august without his limbs getting in the way, and he reaches out his free hand to tug idly at the ends of the strands hanging loose in his face. ]
Maybe you should drink the juice. You alright?
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I'm fine.
[sleepless from making sure absolutely no one enters the room without his permission, but fine.]
How are you feeling?
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[ light and teasing, but there's a faint little twinge of concern caught up in there all the same. it's unsustainable, this constant vigil of august's, but they're past nick insisting that it's unnecessary, that he's fine, that a further attack isn't incoming.
so he saves his breath and just rubs an idle thumb between august's brows instead, willing some relief with the gesture. ]
You could sleep, for a bit. I'll stay here, watch something, I could wake you up in a little while.
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his touch provides more relief than his magic, one that he leans in to. the hound is outside, Nick is recovering fine. there are no signs of threat.]
Only if you stay. I can't control what that thing does if you leave.
no subject
[ frankly because nick does believe august when he stresses how dangerous the creature is, even despite the silly names and the desire to throw a ball for it — there is something lingering and demonic in the room that even the open window can't chase out.
if he's really honest it's been a relief, one thing that he just hasn't had to worry about. nick doesn't think that he's in any danger, but that doesn't stop him from jerking violently awake on occasion all the same, hands clawing at his throat like he's trying to tear away a hand. ]
Go to sleep, I'll save you a granola bar.
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[softly, gaze lowering:] I don't want your granola bar.
[it's not long before he's out, either from the white noise from whatever show or movie Nick decides to put on or from the rise and fall of his chest beneath his arm.
-
he wakes an hour later, groggy and disgruntled. he's a still sleeper, hardly moving. his grip around Nick has relaxed and his hand shifting along his waist is the only indicator that he's woken up.]
Juice. [swallowing that nap-filled mouth] Please.
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