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Redemption for a beast (Yautjan)

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Offline yautjan

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Lucifer stopped when his enemy commanded, freezing a few feet away and lowering his hand again. Without being able to approach the mutated human, there was nothing he could do except watch as he struggled and writhed in clear agony. He thought of the own scars across his body, hidden by night by his jumpsuit and by day by his clothes, and could not help but feel sympathy despite their differences.

The hero took a step back as Beastblood continued vomiting blood, lowering his hand at last. His sympathy turned quickly into discomfort, reminded of a life he'd left behind, and he stood stock still again, ever watching but choosing to allow the transformation to play out in full before he attempted to interact again.

At least Beastblood keeled, knocked unconscious by his transformation, and Lucifer finally reacted, skirting around the pool of foamy blood to come to Beastblood's side. He crouched down over him, taking stock of his enemy, and realized abruptly that he no longer appeared to be breathing.

Do I save him? The question rang through his mind again. With the beast curbed at last and its host--was he only a host? Lucifer had never considered that--unconscious and helpless. It would be painfully easy to shoot and kill him and be done with it.

This conflict continued to wage war in him, and his fingers were already itching for his gun, to simply end this fight and allow the beast to die for his crimes. Was it the right thing to do?

What would Vincent do? he thought.

He already knew the answer to that question.

His mask had a built-in phone--it was easy to dial 911, to contact the paramedics and alert them that a civilian had fallen unconscious and wasn't breathing. He gave them the address, hung up before they could ask who he was, and flipped Beastblood onto his back before cupping his fists together and beginning the arduous process of CPR.
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Offline readlliea

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Defenseless..it would be very easy to end it. A gun wouldn't even be needed truthfully. A good solid whack to make his head hit the concret or even just applying enough pressure to his neck. It would be very easy. Even then though it was a debate. Was it right and was it worth it? Several tries it took before more blood would leave their mouth as they gurgled, trying to breathe again and finally getting the rest out thanks to Lucifer's efforts. The man would begin to cough, taking in long and pained breathes as they laid there on the ground. Eyes still closed as their breathing was back; though not having slowed down yet. Their heart beating faster as it too tried to steady and calm down.

The sound of sirens would start to go off, giving Lucifer just enough time to hide away and watch the paramedics rush over to the man who was still laying there. His eyes never having opened but they were still breathing. Maybe that was good enough?  The hospital would surely take care of him although..there was now more questions. What would they do when it came time to release him? Would they find any information on him? This location was a known stomping ground of the henchmen under Beastblood's control so...would the police get involved?

Whatever else came up, it was up to Lucifer himself what they would do. It took a couple of days for the hospital staff to fully stabilize the John Doe that they got that strange call for. His finger prints weren't showing up anywhere, no form of identification on him, no missing person's report matching their face, and certainly nothing came up with genetics. Stranger and stranger so, what else could they do but call their unconcious patient a John Doe?

"Maybe he was doing drugs? He's showing signs of it.." one doctor remarked as they were leaving the room after checking on him again.

"Sure malnutrition and starvation but this seems a lot worse than just something like that. Those pills didn't reveal anything either, so we'll have to give em back to em." Another responded. "For now, let's just make sure he stays stable. His blood work is really weird.."

Within the room that they left, the beeping of machines as it monitored his heart rate and everything else were the only noises in the room. The former Beastblood just laid there, breathing through a oxygen mask but at least the foaming blood had gone away and he was getting air. Black hair still rested on his head, as if suggesting that he had this hair color to begin with in his life. His build had lessened somewhat, whereas it had been average before, it was now a little under average. So clearly some of his build had been affected by the mutation. His facial features remained somewhat sharp though but he had a young look to him. Around late twenties to early thirties perhaps? Fingers would twitch before his eyes slowly attempted to open. Green iris's were noticeable as his eyes fully opened. For a moment, he seemed dazed...out of it still. As his eyes started to close again as if he was about to go back to sleep. His blurry version gave him a moment of clarity to see a sterile environment, confusion resting in their mind. But lacking the strength to sit up on their own, a tired groan would leave him. Eyes closing to try and ignore the bright lights that were making his eyes sting.

They were at least awake now.


Offline yautjan

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The next two weeks were busy for Lucifer. Once he had been certain that Beastblood would be addressed by the paramedics, he had taken the folder left for him and fled. If they recognized the transformed man, then the police could deal with it. Having witnessed it himself, though, he doubted they'd make the connection. The hero took off to the abandoned dock that same night after a quick check on the police scanners to ensure there was nothing more pressing. True to Beastblood's word, no one was waiting for him to wander into a trap--the dock was truly abandoned, and he was able to gather up everything Beastblood had left behind (except for the blood, which he called in to the police and promptly fled the scene).

Every night after that was spent cleaning up the messes Beastblood had left behind, raiding each of his hiding spots, gathering up what evidence and data had been left behind, and he spent one night pacing along the rooftops trying to decide if he would pocket the cash he'd found or donate it. He'd compromised by sunrise, giving half of it to the local animal shelter and keeping the rest for himself so he could pay ahead his next three months of rent and buy a new cat tree for his cat.

When word reached him of the grapevine of a mysterious John Doe waking up in one of the local hospitals after days of being unconscious, whose description was eerily similar to the man Beastblood had left behind after taking the medication, Lucifer decided to drop in himself and see what the commotion was.

He came at two am, finding a window that was unlocked and slipping through (much to the alarm of a little old lady, but she'd promised to keep quiet after Lucifer assured her he was not there to cause trouble for anyone, only talk to a victim).

The hero made his way to John Doe's room past the nurses who patrolled with annoying regularity, like it was their job or something to monitor the patients. He did not have to search long before finding his room, and he stepped in and shut the door, leaving the moon the only source of light in the room.

"John Doe," he said, through his electronic voice changer. The hero moved and grabbed a chair in one fell swoop, adjusting it to sit down next to his bed.

"Don't call for the nurses," he said. "I can promise you'll regret it. For now, we need to talk."
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Offline readlliea

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With the darkness of the room preventing him from seeing, he couldn't see the person who had shown up. The monitor beeped louder, catching his increased heart rate as the man was tired but a bit freaked out by someone suddenly being in the room with him. Now he hadn't been awake when the nurses and doctors were in the room. So he hadn't heard any voices save for this new one that just..sounded bizarre. HIs breathe fogged up the oxygen mask that was over his face and he even tried to sit up. However his body felt like lead to him, too heavy for him to really move it. So Lucifer would just watch them shrink back down.

"I don't...have anything..." John Doe rasped out, their voice sounding awful but no doubt was due to the vomitting of blood having been the cause of this.


Offline yautjan

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"I know you don't," Lucifer replied, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap. He considered turning on a light, but decided it was probably better to not risk triggering any memories in Beastblood if he could avoid it. So far the medication seemed to have done its trick, and Beastblood was no more. Thank God.

"I'm here because you were found half-dead and have absolutely no identifying documentation," he continued. "What is your name? Do you know that much?"
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Offline readlliea

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"Name..?" The man repeated, as if confused by the very concept of it.

Though, he laid there. Trying to recall for the first time despite his groggy state. He was tired and making himself think was making his head pound. After a few minutes, he feebly shook his head.

"I can't...think of anything. My head feels like...it got slammed into something..." he admitted, a thin hand rested against his forehead.


Offline yautjan

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Lucifer considered his words briefly, trying to decide how to next proceed. "Yes, it's believed you had a major brain injury of some kind. It sounds like you have amnesia."

He stood back up. "That's what I need to know. I know a few people; they'll get you back on your feet. Do as the doctors tell you to in the meantime."

The hero moved to the window, and in the reflection his silhouette was clear. "Don't tell anyone you had this conversation." With that, he opened the window, swung out of it, and pulled it back shut as he disappeared into the night.
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Offline readlliea

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"Why are you...doing this? Do I...know you somehow? You don't sound familiar..." The man asked, they had tried to sit up once more but found themselves still unable to do it.

Merely stuck there...unable to move much besides the simple motions. Everything just felt like a heavy weight. Still his question would go unanawered since the stranger rushed off. Heading on off through a odd method of leaving a location. Too tired to really try and figure anything out, he merely fell asleep.

It would be a longer till the man was cleared to leave the hopsital. Still they couldn't find anything on him and well, the staff had taken to calling him John Doe. Part of that name felt right yet it still didn't feel like it was his name. Oh well. At least he was looking a bit healthier now and he had no other conditions to what they could tell. Surprisingly, he knew how to do things like read and write. The staff had hoped that him writing would bring some things to mind but nothing did. Kind of a bummer.

"Alright Mr. Doe, there is someone here to see you." the nurse said.

Green eyes glanced over to the door way, a look of confusion on his face as he just sat there in the hospital bed. A notebook against his lap and a pencil in his hand.


Offline yautjan

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It had been a few days of thought and consideration on Lucifer's behalf. Did he help his former enemy? Did he leave him to suffer and die? Was rehabilitation worth it? Vincent would have thought it was.

He spent a day cleaning up his apartment and spare bedroom, which had until that point been a dumping ground of computer parts and cat toys. His own bedroom was his headquarters, and with everything important moved into it, he knew he'd have to be cautious to not let anyone see the inside of it. It meant that he couldn't bring anyone home anymore, but it wasn't like he did that ever anyway.

So the day came he showed up at the hospital as himself, a skinny, black haired, green eyed Norwegian-American computer nerd who hid his lean muscles under a large college hoodie and skinny jeans.

The nurse escorted him to John Doe's room at his request, despite her questioning look, and he waved awkwardly when he walked in the door.

"Hi there," he said in his soft tenor. "I'm Völundr. I was asked to come see you by a friend..." He moved to take the empty seat next to John's bed. "Um.. how are you doing?"
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Offline readlliea

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The look of confusion remained on his face as he stayed there.

"Uh...Hi..." John Doe responded, clearly nervous and unsure on this. "I..guess okay. If you can call a weird dream and no memories okay...i mean.."

A shrug left him and after a few moments, the nurse left due to other duties that were more pressing. The man tilted his head though as he looked at em.

"How...how do you say that again? Vu..vo...sorry...it's a stupid question." John started to ask though he looked away as he seemed to pull in on himself.

A much different behavior than what Beastblood was like. Beastblood had confidence and was assertive. This man? He was already pulling away and showing a more submissive attitude.


Offline yautjan

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Völundr smiled gently, though it was a bit forced. Beneath the shy exterior he was tense and on guard, believing the transformation but still aware of this man's true identity. How many people he'd now unknowingly killed... Would it destroy this new man? Or bring Beastblood back? He shuddered with the thought.

"Voe-lun-dur," he said. "It's okay. You can just call me Vol. Like wall, but with a 'V'."

He set his messenger bag down on the floor, folding his hands in his lap awkwardly. They were similar in appearance, he thought, both skinny black-haired, green eyed loners with no friends or (nearby) family to speak of. It was a bit like looking in the mirror, except John Doe looked a lot less healthy even with Vol's chronic lack of sleep.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" he asked. "My friend... he... well, he's not really my friend, but I owe him a big debt. He asked me to take you in until you're doing better."
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Offline readlliea

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"Vol..?" John said, not too sure on if it sounded right.  "No...I don't have anything. Just using the staple name of a unknown dead body according to the nurses so...what would I have?"

A friend? Why would a friend of their's tell them to come here?

"Do they...know me or something?" John asked.


Offline yautjan

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Vol hesitated. Did he bring up Lucifer? Did he risk triggering those memories? There was only one real way to find out, he supposed.

"There's a...a superhero, in Conclave. Where we are," he explained cautiously. "He's the one who asked me to help. I couldn't refuse him... He saved me from being... well, mugged."

His hands were in his lap, and he clenched the one hidden from John's view, prepared to  fight if this went horribly wrong. "He's called Lucifer. I don't know if he knows you really, but he saw you needed help..."
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"Superhero huh" John muttered as he turned his gaze down to the note book, tapping it with his pencil for a few moments. "Just sounds like that weird dream all over again. Why would someone like that want to help me if they didn't know me?"

Letting the lead of the pencil rest on the paper, he merely started to lightly scribble on it. His green eyes focused more on the piece of paper. There was no design to the scribbling he was doing. More of a absent minded thing since his eyes had a look to them that suggested he was stuck in thoughts. Lucifer? Why did that make his head hurt more?


Offline yautjan

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"I guess that's why they're a superhero," Vol said, feeling incredibly awkward about talking about his double life in this manner. Complimenting himself was not something he liked doing, and he swallowed thickly. "Either way, he asked me to help you, and I owe him, so, I came here to help. I cleaned up a bedroom in my apartment... You can stay there until you get back on your feet."

The young man sat back a bit, unclenching his fist slowly and subtly as Beastblood remained suppressed and dormant. Maybe there was a chance this would all work out after all. "I know it's... it's weird, you don't know me and I don't know you, but... I hope you know I'm being sincere."
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