knifemonopoly | IC inbox

Changing to different monster types is never easy! But I've got hands again, and that's what matters!

[Ha ha ha ha ha no bad vibes. Giorno knows what it's like now to go from one monster type to another; enough said, right?]

Anyway, I can't say for sure what your blood needs will be like. Some blood-eaters can live on donated stuff, you know, in bags -- but I needed to feed from a living person at least once a month. Other vampires feed from the living more often. Some can do it without killing, but I understand that takes a lot of practice! Be careful experimenting with that. Monsters can lose more blood than humans and be OK, though.

Unfortunately, bagged blood isn't very good. Especially if you don't heat it up or put it in something else, it's very unpleasant! Like a hot drink that's been in a refrigerator for days...

[Yuck. At least Ryou likes to cook with it...he gets pretty creative. Atem's very grateful that a secretly-macabre good cook of a boyfriend fell into his lap; his man's an absolute freak and it's great.]

But it IS a bad idea to avoid it entirely. Have you bitten anybody yet?

[wow atem you are freakishly chipper about this . . . okay buddy]

my impression thus far has been that many vampires in this place don't put a lot of stock in self-control, or minimizing body count. i suppose it's a relief to be able to non-lethally feed, theoretically. that's one good thing.

[which he hates admitting. he also hates this description of congealed fridge blood.]

no i've only been like this for a day or something and i hate thinking about it. it's mortifying. and i am almost never embarrassed by anything. how do you even start that conversation.

[Drinking blood hasn't been particularly traumatic for him. He considers it an upside of the monster type, honestly...]

You probably won't have to. There are plenty of monsters who don't mind being bitten by a vampire, and when they find out you need blood, chances are they'll offer!

Just watch out for the humans who offer blood to you, too. They're always weird about it...too eager. I've never taken any of them up on it.

[Brace yourself for harassment, Giorno, you're good-looking and your monster type is a really common fetish.]

[ew]

[ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew]

that is exactly what i was afraid of

how is it any less weird when monsters offer??

It's weird when it's somebody you don't know, but if you've got a friendly relationship already, it's not so bad. It doesn't HAVE to be weird.

Actually, I'm a demon this month, which means I'm in a position to donate -- AND I have phlebotomy equipment that might make the whole thing less personal. Plus, I can teleport away if it starts to go badly.

If you're really starving, I don't mind lending a hand! I won't make anything out of it. Cross my heart!

[This silence is Giorno trying to come up with a legitimate reason for saying no to this very reasonable offer.]

[The next part of the silence is him realizing he is actually just incredibly uncomfortable and worried.]

[But . . .]

would you?

teleport away. "can" doesn't mean" will".

Yes. I would. My next death is going to come with a cost...I wouldn't trade one of my memories for another monster's meal.

[Cold, but true. That's a hard line for him now, something that's changed lately, and something he'll have to take into consideration as he continues to move through the game. Atem's out of freebies. The tutorial mode's over.]

There's also the possibility of stopping whatever's happening by taking possession of your body, since I'm more used to controlling that type of hunger than you are. But that's not the kind of thing you do to a friend without getting their permission first...not outside of a situation that was already dire!

[With things like the hydra-parasites around, odds are good that a monster could have had bad experiences with not being in control of their bodies. And that's not even counting what might have happened to someone before coming to Ryslig...like Ryou.]

Any conditions and failsafes you want to set, I'll agree to. But I won't let myself be hurt!

i'm fine with possession.

[The answer comes immediately. His bodily autonomy was stolen by a hydra many months ago, and he doesn't relish losing it again. At the same time, wouldn't accidentally harming someone by losing control be just another type of autonomy lost? There's nothing good that could come of it. For better or for worse, he trusts Atem to do the right thing.]

[Even if he can't.]

anything is preferable to doing real damage to someone like this. i absolutely can't accept that. kill me if you have to. from what you're saying, it seems unlikely to come to that, but still.

[--heh.

Choosing to have your body taken over, if that's the cost to keep you from doing harm you didn't mean to...

...that's right, in a situation like that, wouldn't Atem make that choice, too?]

I understand.

[He also understands that Giorno is worried and embarrassed in a way that doesn't match what Atem's seen from him so far. It's hard to gauge emotions over text, but how quickly the response to the possession suggestion came, how fast he agreed to an extreme solution...Giorno seems scared of this feeding type, scared he'll hurt someone. Did something happen involving a blood-drinking Stand?

Atem understands Giorno's wishes here, and he will do whatever it takes to keep this feeding peaceful, so that the only thing that's lost is a bit of his own blood.]

Where should I meet you?

[If it was anyone else, Giorno would doubt that. But Atem, of all people . . . he believes that Atem does understand. In some ways, they're very similar. He can trust Atem to keep him from doing any real damage, because he can imagine Atem asking him to do the same.]

if it wouldn't be intrusive or strange, i can come over to you so you don't have to transport the equipment. otherwise, i'm fine with anywhere.

[Um.]

[Hm.]

[A long pause before the next message.]

also, this is a strange question, but it's important that i ask. i need to know how to do it the other way safely, in case it ends up being necessary, but i know i won't want to ask when i see you. i will still try, but could you please tell me, even if i don't ask?

[Atem suspects, a little, from this conversation and others, that many people in Giorno's life are dazzled by him. (He has no idea how funny this observation is, given Giorno's current monster type, because he still has not read Twilight.) This might have, in the past, led to people ignoring his wishes in order to protect him -- behavior comparable to giving him a dangerous amount of their blood, instead of teleporting away to protect themselves.

Atem isn't. Giorno's a miracle healer, so Atem can kind of see where people would get weird about that, but Giorno doesn't symbolize anything at all to Atem. He's a person. A big snake nerd, someone who gets really, really excited about nature facts and natural science. Sometimes, he asks too much. But he means well. Atem likes him a perfectly normal amount. And right now, Giorno's uncomfortable and in trouble. This isn't even payback for help with Atem's shed in September. It's just something you do for a friend. Friends are people you can count on.]

All right. I'll tell you all about it, whether you ask me to or not!

As for where it'd be most convenient...meet me at the corner of Fleet Road and 4th street. I can be there in an hour.

[Just like that. It's really that easy. He asks, and Atem agrees, and . . . there's no way to know, not for sure. But it certainly feels as though Atem understood a lot more from that question than just what was stated on the surface. If anyone would, Giorno thinks, it would be Atem.]

[As the seconds pass between reading this message and sending the response, he can feel a blooming soreness as his shoulders unclench.]

thank you, atem. i will meet you there in an hour, then.

[For the first time in their acquaintance, Giorno shows up right on time instead of early. He's breathless when he arrives at the corner, although mostly out of habit; he procrastinated and left late, so he knows he should be out of breath. When he catches sight of Atem, he gives a wan smile, far more revealing than his usual, more subtle expressions.]

Oh. Good, you came.

[Like he thought Atem wouldn't?? Okay, he didn't really think that, he's just. Today has not gone great, all right.]

[Atem's waiting by the door, all blue scales and gold bangles. Demon-variant Atem takes in bat-variant Giorno, and, aside from the big ol' ears, the strongest impression Atem gets is from his eyes.

Brows crease under an eye-pattern of scales on his forehead. There's something familiar about the eyes, like they've met as humans before but Atem can't remember. Did Giorno go by a different name in the other-Ryslig, the one Daniel sent them all to? Something's jiggled loose in Atem's memory, a loose thread, a connection fixed only at one end...

...but that doesn't matter right now. The almost-recognition fades from Atem's face and is replaced by an easy grin.]

As if I'd stand up a friend!

[He pulls a key out of his jeans-pocket with clawed, blue fingers as he says:]

Come in, come in!

[Go through the street-level door, down a flight of concrete steps where Atem's goat-feet click like high-heels, and through a second, also locked, door--

--and Giorno will find himself in what can generously be described as a workshop that's been closed down for the holidays, and ungenerously described as a dusty murder basement.

Dust covers are over the workbenches, covered in uneven lumps. Above the larger lumps, pinned to the walls, are newspaper clippings: "SON OF MONSTER-DAMAGE REBUILDING LENDER FOUND DEAD IN ENTERTAINMENT DISTRICT, HEART MISSING" is one headline. "DRUG-RUNNING HOBBYIST: LIEFSON INDUSTRIES HEIR VANISHED AMID QUESTIONS" is another. "ANTIQUITIES DEALER TO THE WEALTHY FOUND DEAD, DISMEMBERED." You get the idea.

A few diagrams are pinned beside the newspapers or lie on an uncovered drafting table; a close look will reveal plans for a jar that closes around a hand when a circuit is completed, leg traps that ratchet closed an inch at a time. There's covered furnaces, tools for metalwork and leatherwork, a waist-high cooler in the corner definitely large enough for a body, right near a more ordinary short fridge, a hot plate, and some comfortable-looking, plush chairs. A little break area, for when you need to rest and eat some cup noodles before you go back to making torture traps.

It all smells fairly clean. There's been blood spilled here, but not for a while, and very neatly. No body in the cooler, no rust stains on any thing. The only thing that shows signs of very recent use is a metal-mold that looks like it's for ten-sided dice, and small leatherwork tools. The calendar on the wall hasn't been changed from November.

Atem heads for a set of shelves next to a high-backed-chair-shaped dust cover, lined with medical supplies -- phlebotomy bags, disinfectant, first aid, as well as body bags, a bone saw, and other tools for butchery.

Atem gestures to the chairs near the mini-fridge and hot plate.]

Sit down, make yourself at home! I'll get what we need together in a second...

[...said casually, as though he's walked Giorno into a completely normal room, without enormous serial killer vibes.]

[There's a specific point, round about the second stair from the bottom, that the hair on the back of Giorno's neck stands up. Maybe it's the scent of blood, old and disguised under a good cleaning but most certainly not Atem's. Maybe it's the double-locked doors. Maybe it's just instinct, which has always served him well — but he knows, suddenly and certainly, that something is very wrong.]

[As soon as he even starts to see the shape of things down here, literally and figuratively, he stops stock-still in the doorway, Atem's deliberate invitation be damned. He was a caged animal too long to willingly walk into a trap as obvious as this one.]

[The more he sees, the more bewildered he is. It's wrong and backwards and distressing from the first unidentifiable shrouded shape his gaze lands on, but as soon as he sees the medical tools, minimal though they are, he realizes he's stumbled into an actual nightmare.]

[It just . . . isn't his nightmare. And that's why all thought of caution leaves him in an instant, and he speaks, staring still at the bone saw.]

Does Steve know about this?

[In the back of his mind is a set of scales. His hands clench tight in the hem of his coat as he waits, tries to wait, for the explanation that's coming. That needs to come.]

Edited 2022-01-10 20:19 (UTC)

Steve...?

[Why is Giorno asking about Steve, he wonders? What does Steve have to do with this?

What Atem uses these devices for -- things the humans he hunts walk into, lured into dangerous games by promises of money, power, consequence-free violence if they win -- is entirely divorced in his mind from what happened to Steve, at Fabius's hands.

It shouldn't, probably, if he thought about it for half a second. But Atem hasn't.

Giorno's disturbed, Atem can see that much. Is the guy gentler than Atem thought...? Or is it just shocking, to see a workshop like this, without any explanation?]

Which part?

He knows I hunt with games...

...but he's never been here.

[With games.]

[That isn't even the part that bothers him, although it does seem unnecessarily euphemistic. He wants to ask if Steve understands what "games" means in this context — but he doesn't. Unless Atem actually showed him the plans, Steve would never in a million years imagine anything like this. He's not capable. And that's a good thing.]

[Slowly, Giorno shakes his head.]

Don't bring him here. Not unless it's an emergency.

[And it had better be a hell of an emergency, too. He crosses the room, lifts shaking fingers to hover above the bone saw. By the tiny, complex bones of his wrist, he sees a scalpel. His eyes fix on its pristinely-sanitized blade.]

[Fingers folding into a fist, he takes a step back. If he weren't already so off-kilter in this new shape, maybe he'd be able to say it more kindly. As it is, he just can't manage.]

Use your imagination. What these things would remind him of. He wakes up screaming enough as it is.

[The scalpel's clean, but it hasn't seen a lot of use. It's next to first-aid supplies -- Atem's accepted that, in order for some wounds to be treated, incisions might have to be made, and they should be made with the right tool for the job.

The bone saw and the knives near it...on closer inspection, they look more culinary than medical, for efficient butchery of meat. The sins committed in this room are abduction, blood draws, murder, and postmortem preparation for consumption by meat-eaters, as well as construction of the dormant devices under the dust-covers, which Atem's referred to under the much broader category of games. No experimental surgeries. No trophy-taking, either, unless the newspaper records count.

Still...Giorno's right. Steve's not just gentler than the rest of them, he's also been through something too close to what's here. It had been good, to destroy Fabius Bile as completely as they had, ripping open his chest, exposing his heart like he'd done to Steve--

--but it's that precise fact that means Steve should never see the place where the thing that did it was made.]

Right.

I won't. You have my word.

[If Giorno's looking for it, there's a brief glow in Atem's red-on-black eyes, like they're embers someone's just blown on. For him as a demon, promises are contracts; he's bound to it now. Even without it, once the temporary change is over, Atem will never bring Steve here unless every other safe place in Bavan were compromised, and the physical danger somehow outweighed what would happen emotionally, if Steve were here.]

[You have my word, Atem says, and he looks up just in time to see the glow. It feels like a pact, but it would without the special effects. Atem's word means something — means everything. It's not that he thinks Atem can't lie, but he doesn't make promises lightly. To do so would be beneath him. And he cares about Steve as much as any of them.]

Thank you.

[Mumbled quietly, his speech slurring slightly as his lips trip over unfamiliar fangs. He feels at one and the same time still incredibly uncomfortable and totally ridiculous. What is he so upset about? Besides the parts of this that remind him faintly of what happened to Steve, none of this is really worse than what any of them do. Just because Atem enjoys it on some level — is it enjoyment? Is it justice? Does he see it for what it is? But what is it? — that's not his business. And he's not capable in this moment of lying to himself and pretending he wouldn't do the same or similar.]

[Has done similar.]

[Some people deserve to die, and he knows how to do it.]

[So what is this? Why is he feeling inherently incompatible emotions right now? Should he just go? If he can't make sense of any of this, why is he still standing here in this uncomfortable place, waiting to do something that makes his stomach churn? He drags his feet over to the space by the mini-fridge, claws picking at the hem of his coat.]

[He almost asks Atem if he ever feels like this — like two different people. Because maybe that's the problem. There are two of him here right now: the one that heals and the one that harms. The one who remembers a dozen times he's taken Steve's face in his hands and wiped frightened tears away, and the one that would throw Diavolo back in hell in an instant. Most of the time it doesn't matter, it doesn't bother him, but right now, when he's trying so hard to stay himself?]

[Drawing his hands down his face, he shakes his head. Never mind, forget it.]

Sorry. The timing is bad. It's been a long . . . few hours.

We can do this somewhere else, if it's difficult to be here.

[The offer is immediate and sincere, and a touch of apology creeps into Atem's voice as he goes on, his tail curling and unfurling by his feet.]

This place...what I've built here is meant to be frightening. If I'm scary, then other monsters will think twice about hurting my friends! But, I've stopped hunting this way, until I'm my normal monster type again and can think clearly about it.

[He gestures around to the dust-covers. Closed for the holidays, so...]

...so, I didn't think about how uncomfortable it would be to come here without any warning. Just what would be most convenient for me, since the supplies are here.

[His demon changes have made him more relaxed but less considerate: anticipating other people's needs and responses is a lot of work, and the demon doesn't want to work at all, unless it's fun. Still...he's a touch shamefaced.]

Sorry for bringing you somewhere like this when you're already having a bad time.

[What Atem says . . . Giorno thinks about it, chin tucked down as he stares at the floor. If I'm scary, then other monsters will think twice about hurting my friends. Not so foreign a thought, really. He's struck once again by the ways in which he and Atem are similar, and how not all of them are good.]

[Would he forget such things if he were in the form Atem has taken? Maybe. But then, maybe he'll forget them in this one. That's the problem. He just doesn't know yet. He wants to believe there are some things about him, core things, that won't change no matter what — but this is Ryslig, and the Fog controls even the most basic parts of him, no matter how he fights.]

[He closes his eyes and exhales slowly, just to remind himself that even if he doesn't need to, he can. When he looks up again, he offers Atem a faintly apologetic smile.]

I don't want to drink blood directly from someone . . . because my father was a vampire who killed dozens, if not hundreds, of people. For food. For fun. Because he was bored or angry. Nothing you do or don't do will change that. I appreciate your consideration, though.

[As braced against this as he clearly is, as upbeat as he's trying to be, his stare still catches on the state of the room. It's . . . not his father's style. That's easy to see. He can hang onto that. It's not his, either, but maybe that's for the best.]

[Atem doesn't smile back. His brows draw up, instead, recognizing the way Giorno's treating something very heavy as something very light, to make the weight easier to bear. He doesn't comment, doesn't say sorry, because that won't help; he just nods, understanding, recognizing the source of the discomfort that's been shared with him.

He doesn't know much about Giorno's family, does he? That's not unusual: he doesn't know much about Steve's family, or Lust's, or plenty of other people, but a mass-murdering vampire father...sounds like a real piece of work.

(Green eyes in a dark-haired, bowl-cut face look up at him in a memory, someone silent, even under beatings, because he believed nothing could be done. Are they...?)

Nope. No. That's none of Atem's business, unless Giorno chooses to talk about it. Instead, Atem takes hold of the blood-drawing supplies, and crosses to the sitting-area.]

Then, let's get started. Do you want to do the venipuncture, or should I? I've got practice, but I've never done it to myself before...

[Atem comes to the clinic, during the blood drives, to volunteer for an institution that's helped him and his friends and which he supports, and also to get good at blood draws. He really is practiced, but will doing it to himself be different?]

Edited 2022-02-04 20:15 (UTC)

[He’s beginning to get used to Atem’s responses to things. There is a level of maturity in him that is nonetheless sometimes surprising, and at times it makes Giorno feel well and truly like a child. It’s hard to understand how Atem stays serene about these things. Giorno is very good at acting unaffected, but what he sees before him is different. It’s not that Atem is unaffected, it’s that he absorbs the information, sees it for what it is, and acknowledges the pain without his own strong emotional reaction coloring the moment of confession.]

[Rarely if ever is he jealous of others, because he has clawed his way out of the dead earth all on his own, and he deserves everything he’s gotten. But he is jealous of Atem right now.]

[And then he’s looking down at his hands, spread flat and wide palms-up on his lap. It might seem as though he’s hesitating until one notices that he’s not so much looking as watching. Waiting for a tremor. But there isn’t one. His emotions haven’t reached his hands, and they won’t. They very rarely do.]

[He lifts his head, and he nods.]

I can do it. I’d rather this not be both of our first times.

[This is a joke? Probably?]

[Atem's been told some horrible things. His own father, as Atem understands it, gave an order for mass human sacrifice. 99 people. He's a little bit used to large numbers of the dead, by now.

If he told someone about what his family had done, he wouldn't want them to recoil from him, or to hear sorry. He'd want the difficulty of the situation recognized, but not pity, or anything else that wouldn't change matters. He'd want to be understood...but not in a way where someone else told their comparable story, pulling the focus onto them instead of him. So he gives Giorno that same understanding, and respect.

....at least until Giorno cracks the joke -- it has to be? Put like that? At least, it makes the tension crack for Atem, whose mouth pulls up in a grin, and whose spike-lined shoulders twitch in a light laugh.]

Heh! All right, then...I'm in your hands!

[He kids back as he lays the hollow needle and its tube out on a tray-table and settles into a low, comfortable chair beside it. Leaving the needle and its attached tube to Giorno, Atem rolls up his sweater-sleeve, takes a strip of elastic, and, using his prehensile tail-tip to hold it in place like a second hand, ties it tight above his elbow. He rests his hand wrist-up on the arm of the chair, clenching and flexing his fingers, making the veins easier to spot. Giorno may or may not need the guidance, with a vampire's sense for blood...but it's a very normal bit of phlebotomy preparation, and not very vampire-y at all.

If Giorno starts to seem less controlled about the blood-draw, though, Atem hasn't forgotten his promise. He's got no intention of giving up a life, or even getting seriously injured, today...he'll keep an eye out for cracks in that composure, for anything that seems off. He's relaxed, but watchful.]

[He's not exactly a phlebotomist, admittedly, but he's demanded to learn how blood draws work at the clinic all the same. You never know when you'll need to know, or when every single doctor in Bavan will disappear due to some fucking calamity, or whatever.]

[The point is: he knows how to do this well enough, and hums in appreciation at Atem's know-how, nodding at his clenched fist.]

Of all the aspects of my monster form, I appreciate the prehensile vines most of all.

[Something else he doesn't get to have as a vampire! Annoying. But Atem's got his back, apparently — and with the visual of the vein to focus on, he can do his best to ignore the smell. Inserting the needle is easy, removing the elastic is routine, and as the draw begins, he exhales slightly, relieved. It was the right thing to do, coming to Atem right away, as awful as it felt, and still feels. He'll be able to keep better control like this than if he'd waited.]

[Not perfect control, though. By the time the vial is full, his expression is pinched, brow furrowed, as though he's rapidly developing a migraine. Which is more or less correct. His body and mind are having very different feelings about what's happening here.]

Is one enough to start with, do you think? I should have asked before, sorry.

[Prehensile vines...extra limbs...Atem's always envied them a little, they seem so useful. But, rather than comment on it, he replies to the latter statement...]

Hard to say. Every monster's different! Drink it and see how you do.

[Atem folds the tube over one-handed and deftly clamps it in place, effectively pausing the bloodflow in a way that'll be easy to restart. He's braced, poised, ready to go...if Giorno gets a taste for blood and loses control, Atem's ready to teleport the hell out of here. It shows in the slight hunch of his shoulders, a watchfulness in his expression.]

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<Player1> cw harassment mention

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cw heavy implication of torture, murder, nonconsensual blood draws

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cw references to kidnapping, nonconsensual blood draws, murder, cannibalism, death traps, torture

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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, PLAYER1. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 10.11.0.0.01 * PLAYER1 has joined 10.11.0.0.01 <PLAYER1>** If you're looking for someone you knew as Yugi before June, you've found him! It's Atem, leave a message.