Options— stairs with fire alarms on the doors, and the elevator, which is no doubt being monitored. Daniel moves towards the stairwell first, but pauses, sensing activity on the floor above them. Getting pretty good at figuring out where people are, at least nearby. Maybe a modest single family home's worth of a radius.
Daniel does not really want opposition. Louis might find it interesting, or thrilling, Daniel doesn't know. He's not afraid, not of getting into a scuffle nor of Louis, but he's never been a violence guy. He'll offer a blowjob before he throws a punch, but the former definitely isn't going to help, here, so uh.
'Elevator, I guess?'
Will it even show up. Daniel pings the button, but after a moment, he just shoves the doors to the shaft open. It's clearly been turned off.
"They're on to us," Louis deadpans, spoken aloud even as his amusement glows in Daniel's head.
We can climb, is the more practical suggestion. Elevator shafts are made to be traversed, to some extent. It would be challenging to a human. It is not impossible for a vampire.
Louis ducks beneath Daniel's arm to look up, send his focus upwards to feel the absence of power. Find an absence of cameras. One advantage. An elevator shaft not truly equipped to monitor a pair of vampires scaling the walls.
We can pick any floor is more or less true. Amends, Maybe skip the lobby.
Vague impressions in Louis' mind. Dropping from high windows, landing in the street. Not discreet, but that's the Talamasca's problem to solve.
It sure is (their problem to solve). Daniel laughs a little, and watches Louis, how he darts around. Remembers the the last time he saw him, remembers flinching away, startled in the aftermath of violence against Armand. Who deserved it, true.
Louis is—
Beautiful. It strikes him, out of nowhere like a sucker punch. He's always known, he'd been smitten by him immediately fifty years ago. But with these eyes, transformed as they are, Daniel can see just how truly radiant he is. And he seems happy, or at least, he seems like himself. Dark and real, at least honest.
He shakes it off. Hopefully Louis didn't get much of an impression. Embarrassing.
A good moment for stray thoughts: Louis' attention occupied with mapping out the movements above, focus split away from Daniel, catching only the tail end of a thought, more impression than anything else. Enough to inspire some warm feeling in return, reassuring, a brush of fingers across knuckles. A minor acknowledgement, complicated feelings or no, of Daniel's care. Gratitude that Daniel cares at all for Louis' well being, given all that's happened. All Louis has permitted to happen.
"Stay close," is what Louis says aloud. Flashes a grin over his shoulder, and steps into the shaft. Begins to climb.
It's a pleasant enough exertion. Easy going, up and up and up, Louis' mind open to the buzz of Talamasca agent minds. Most shielded, but some cracks here and there. Enough to guide Louis' decision when he swings out from the handholds to begin levering open a door.
Third floor. Not abandoned, but not packed with opposition. A handful of agents rushing, chattering, occupied with their daily tasks.
No one immediately notices the elevator door pulling open, no ding of arrival heralding the occasion.
Daniel will always care about Louis. He did even when he only remembered half of him. He hopes Louis knows that, and believes that, despite everything. Despite the book he's going to force into existence, despite the way he shies away from that little psychic affection (embarrassed, private), despite being a walking, talking, reminder of Armand, heart beating only because of the fuckhead's blood, and sharing his unnerving, glowing eyes.
Fast, easy, and he's grateful for it— sometimes every so often he finds himself fumbling, and feels panic rise in him, thinking it's his hands trembling again when it's just baby deer legs. There's a half-open door with a clear view towards them, but Daniel quietly shuts it, like dropping a cover over a parrot's cage. Shh, nothing going on out here.
Sturdy windows, treated to see through from the inside while remaining opaque from the outside, security bars, a tiny tab that suggests an alarm system. Daniel runs a hand along it, trying to find the wire, and then jams his thumb through the wall below the frame. Clumsy, but, hm.
He pokes at the wire.
"Think an alarm will go off if we tamper with it?"
Louis doesn't sound very concerned but he suspects Daniel might want to avoid tripping an alarm.
It's a curious thing, these inner workings of the Talamasca. All these human precautions, and they are nothing for two vampires. A minor inconvenience. They'd be less of one if Daniel and Louis were different vampires.
"Are you worried about the alarm system?"
Direct.
They're in each others heads. Louis asks him this aloud anyway.
Does he understand the way Daniel cares for him? Yes. No.
It's complicated. Louis is many things. Depressive and guilty and angry. He failed Daniel. He is aware of it. It shifts his perception of who could feel what, of what Daniel could forgive and Daniel could feel for him, the person responsible for so much of what's befallen him.
Wry. Maybe he doesn't care, morally or ethically, no, but he might like to avoid a scene. A complicated relationship with these people. They owe he and Louis, but they also got him the real deal, the actual script, annotated by Armand. He thinks Louis would have wanted to believe him, without hard evidence, without the smoking gun that made all the smugness slide off Armand's face. But would he have been able to push all the way through?
So small, when he notices. Not a fully conscious noticing. An awareness like feeling pressure shift in a room. The door he closed, soft and quick to open again, and—
BANG.
A gunshot rings out a split-second after Daniel has grabbed Louis and pulled him close
CRACK.
It smashes into the glass, gets stuck in it, fucking Pope-proof windows, sending a spiderweb of a shatter. Daniel looks horrified, frozen in the heartbeat of a moment, suspended in time, slowly coming to terms with this abrupt change as the ticktick of one and a half seconds sluggishly drags on.
A bullet isn't going to kill Louis, but a headshot would lay him up for long months to heal. Louis knows this. His fingers tighten in Daniel's jacket, a brief squeeze of gratitude, before Louis' attention shifts and his lips peel back off his teeth to bare fangs at the agent in the doorway.
To her credit, she holds her ground even as he face goes pale.
There's more coming, Louis cautions, words blooming in Daniel's head fully detached from the savagery of the expression on Louis' face. We should break the glass.
Fuck the alarm, more or less.
Louis blurs from Daniel. The agent gets another shot off, bullet hitting a wall, and then screams as Louis breaks her arm. The gun clatters to the floor.
He's stunned for a moment. The second shot rings in his ears, on top of how the first was still ringing, and he feels disoriented. Logically aware that this is shock, that despite all the dicey, dangerous, tight spots he's found himself in over the years, he still doesn't like violence, still abhors gun violence in particular, still does not like finding himself in the same room (or hallway) with it.
He hears Louis, and he hears the scattered, static-y radio waves of panicked mortal thoughts, this agent and ones in other rooms, swiftly but carefully mobilizing. She hates these creatures who prey upon humans, she has seen so many awful, brutal things, and now one of those awful, brutal things is happening to her, because she did her duty and tried to rescue their asset from being abducted.
Guilt stabs at him. He makes himself break the window open anyway.
It can be attributed to Louis, all of this. All of the violence, all of the brutality. Daniel can be spared responsibility. Louis, volatile and dangerous. Louis, who should be feared.
And they do fear him. He can feel it. He can hear it in the cacophony of their thoughts.
Louis grips this mortal by the throat, and flings her bodily across the room, through the door where agents are gathering. Their shouts and her scream carry, are barely stifled by the door Louis closes.
"Let's go," he says, crossing the room. Touches Daniel's cheek, gentle, something meant to be grounding. "I have a car on the corner. Run to your right."
Louis takes him by the hand, turning to shattered windw. They can jump, and land without any injury. The sidewalk cracks under impact. It doesn't matter.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Options— stairs with fire alarms on the doors, and the elevator, which is no doubt being monitored. Daniel moves towards the stairwell first, but pauses, sensing activity on the floor above them. Getting pretty good at figuring out where people are, at least nearby. Maybe a modest single family home's worth of a radius.
Daniel does not really want opposition. Louis might find it interesting, or thrilling, Daniel doesn't know. He's not afraid, not of getting into a scuffle nor of Louis, but he's never been a violence guy. He'll offer a blowjob before he throws a punch, but the former definitely isn't going to help, here, so uh.
'Elevator, I guess?'
Will it even show up. Daniel pings the button, but after a moment, he just shoves the doors to the shaft open. It's clearly been turned off.
no subject
We can climb, is the more practical suggestion. Elevator shafts are made to be traversed, to some extent. It would be challenging to a human. It is not impossible for a vampire.
Louis ducks beneath Daniel's arm to look up, send his focus upwards to feel the absence of power. Find an absence of cameras. One advantage. An elevator shaft not truly equipped to monitor a pair of vampires scaling the walls.
We can pick any floor is more or less true. Amends, Maybe skip the lobby.
Vague impressions in Louis' mind. Dropping from high windows, landing in the street. Not discreet, but that's the Talamasca's problem to solve.
no subject
Louis is—
Beautiful. It strikes him, out of nowhere like a sucker punch. He's always known, he'd been smitten by him immediately fifty years ago. But with these eyes, transformed as they are, Daniel can see just how truly radiant he is. And he seems happy, or at least, he seems like himself. Dark and real, at least honest.
He shakes it off. Hopefully Louis didn't get much of an impression. Embarrassing.
"Alright, up, and pick your favorite window."
no subject
"Stay close," is what Louis says aloud. Flashes a grin over his shoulder, and steps into the shaft. Begins to climb.
It's a pleasant enough exertion. Easy going, up and up and up, Louis' mind open to the buzz of Talamasca agent minds. Most shielded, but some cracks here and there. Enough to guide Louis' decision when he swings out from the handholds to begin levering open a door.
Third floor. Not abandoned, but not packed with opposition. A handful of agents rushing, chattering, occupied with their daily tasks.
No one immediately notices the elevator door pulling open, no ding of arrival heralding the occasion.
no subject
Fast, easy, and he's grateful for it— sometimes every so often he finds himself fumbling, and feels panic rise in him, thinking it's his hands trembling again when it's just baby deer legs. There's a half-open door with a clear view towards them, but Daniel quietly shuts it, like dropping a cover over a parrot's cage. Shh, nothing going on out here.
Sturdy windows, treated to see through from the inside while remaining opaque from the outside, security bars, a tiny tab that suggests an alarm system. Daniel runs a hand along it, trying to find the wire, and then jams his thumb through the wall below the frame. Clumsy, but, hm.
He pokes at the wire.
"Think an alarm will go off if we tamper with it?"
no subject
Louis doesn't sound very concerned but he suspects Daniel might want to avoid tripping an alarm.
It's a curious thing, these inner workings of the Talamasca. All these human precautions, and they are nothing for two vampires. A minor inconvenience. They'd be less of one if Daniel and Louis were different vampires.
"Are you worried about the alarm system?"
Direct.
They're in each others heads. Louis asks him this aloud anyway.
Does he understand the way Daniel cares for him? Yes. No.
It's complicated. Louis is many things. Depressive and guilty and angry. He failed Daniel. He is aware of it. It shifts his perception of who could feel what, of what Daniel could forgive and Daniel could feel for him, the person responsible for so much of what's befallen him.
no subject
Wry. Maybe he doesn't care, morally or ethically, no, but he might like to avoid a scene. A complicated relationship with these people. They owe he and Louis, but they also got him the real deal, the actual script, annotated by Armand. He thinks Louis would have wanted to believe him, without hard evidence, without the smoking gun that made all the smugness slide off Armand's face. But would he have been able to push all the way through?
So small, when he notices. Not a fully conscious noticing. An awareness like feeling pressure shift in a room. The door he closed, soft and quick to open again, and—
BANG.
A gunshot rings out a split-second after Daniel has grabbed Louis and pulled him close
CRACK.
It smashes into the glass, gets stuck in it, fucking Pope-proof windows, sending a spiderweb of a shatter. Daniel looks horrified, frozen in the heartbeat of a moment, suspended in time, slowly coming to terms with this abrupt change as the ticktick of one and a half seconds sluggishly drags on.
no subject
To her credit, she holds her ground even as he face goes pale.
There's more coming, Louis cautions, words blooming in Daniel's head fully detached from the savagery of the expression on Louis' face. We should break the glass.
Fuck the alarm, more or less.
Louis blurs from Daniel. The agent gets another shot off, bullet hitting a wall, and then screams as Louis breaks her arm. The gun clatters to the floor.
no subject
And Daniel calls himself a writer.
He's stunned for a moment. The second shot rings in his ears, on top of how the first was still ringing, and he feels disoriented. Logically aware that this is shock, that despite all the dicey, dangerous, tight spots he's found himself in over the years, he still doesn't like violence, still abhors gun violence in particular, still does not like finding himself in the same room (or hallway) with it.
He hears Louis, and he hears the scattered, static-y radio waves of panicked mortal thoughts, this agent and ones in other rooms, swiftly but carefully mobilizing. She hates these creatures who prey upon humans, she has seen so many awful, brutal things, and now one of those awful, brutal things is happening to her, because she did her duty and tried to rescue their asset from being abducted.
Guilt stabs at him. He makes himself break the window open anyway.
no subject
And they do fear him. He can feel it. He can hear it in the cacophony of their thoughts.
Louis grips this mortal by the throat, and flings her bodily across the room, through the door where agents are gathering. Their shouts and her scream carry, are barely stifled by the door Louis closes.
"Let's go," he says, crossing the room. Touches Daniel's cheek, gentle, something meant to be grounding. "I have a car on the corner. Run to your right."
Louis takes him by the hand, turning to shattered windw. They can jump, and land without any injury. The sidewalk cracks under impact. It doesn't matter.