meadowlarklogs | you learned to breathe underwater

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you learned to breathe underwater —

WHO: caroline forbes & you!
WHERE: the safehouse
WHEN: october 10
WHAT: an impromptu birthday celebration.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: excessive cheeriness.

[ by mid-day, a new message appears on the network from a new user, @caroline.forbes: ]

It's my birthday, apparently, so I made cake. Please don't make me eat all of it!

[ it's a fairly short message, but it's at least accompanied by a few photos of a cake, surprisingly delicious looking for being made of everything but chocolate.

those in the safehouse will have likely heard caroline baking up a storm all morning, and may be aware that the photos show her fourth attempt at this extremely finicky futuristic cake. by the time she posts her photos, all the evidence has been scrubbed clean from the countertops (and dishes and floor and tabletops and trash cans) of the safehouse kitchen. ]

—

ooc note: feel free to have your character reply on the network, come by in person, or a combination thereof. this post is a combo pack because i didn't feel like making a network and log post on the same day. #lazy

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That is not playing, [ yelped out on a gasp as his leg pushes hard against her thigh, a press that in combination with his expression pulls a flush up her neck. she's trying — really, actually trying — not to let her mind run away with her here, but it's hard to avoid passing go when his body's so close and his mouth does that funny thing at the corners and his eyes are looking into hers.

that's the leverage he needs, and that's when she gives; she protests all the while, but he does manage to knock her off balance, her knees sliding sideways until her legs go slack. balance lost, her hands no longer are enough to lift her up, and caroline's body falls into his own, held there for a beat by her own grip on his wrists until she suddenly lets go, a breathless laugh spilling from her lips as she rolls off him onto her back. ]

You cheat.

( she lets go, which gives him ample time to slide an arm under her own and around her ribcage, twisting his own body to the side in an effort to flip them over. get her on her back with jason on top, knees bracketing her waist. )

You've got the power and speed, but none of your moves are choreographed. ( obviously. look at her. ) You run at the wrong person, and they're gonna throw you over onto your back before your speed can do jack shit. Next time, I wanna see you fight at my speed. See how much harder it is to get me down. Think you can manage that?

I think — [ but it's hard to think when he's smug and satisfied, settled on top of her like it's the most comfortable place in the world. and she knows, logically, that that's not what this is. it's not flirtatious, it's sparring, it's practical. he's giving her good advice, really, and she should take it.

and she will, but she needs a moment to separate her dumb teen girl brain from focused, can-do caroline brain. just one singular moment. ]

I think I can do that. I mean, I choreographed cheer routines, how hard can this be?

Cheerleader, huh.

( weight moving up onto his knees before jason gets up onto his feet, holds a hand out for her to grab onto. )

So we'll start with some choreographed moves. Give me some time, I'll build up something for you.

Head cheerleader, thank you.

[ cheerleading captain, honor student, head of half a dozen dance committees — it seems like a lifetime ago (wasn't, though, more than a few months) when those were the most important parts of caroline's life. if it wasn't for the fact that he already knew the replacement, she might try to wear those a little more prominently. but as he already knows, has already seen the flash of fangs and the pull of bloodlust in her veins, they're little more than cheerful references, made as her hand grabs tight onto his own in order to pull herself to her feet. ]

Luckily for you, I have nothing but time now. [ under house arrest during the day, not totally sure what to do or where to go at night... ]

For now. ( weight moving onto the heels of his feet as jason shifts back, gets her up and presses a hand against her shoulder. he leans in a little more than would be comfortable for most, murmurs low enough for her ears and nothing else. ) We never know what to expect in these parts. Shit's calm for one moment--the next we've got monsters running loose. Don't ever let your guard down 'round natives, 'cause we don't know what they do and don't know.

( she's just arrived, here. he should be a little more gentle about shit. but he's not. of course he's not. )

I want you to be strong and confident without your speed and strength. We don't know what'll come next, or what'll try and break us down. And trust me, I've seen bigger and badder things than vampires get the crap beaten out of them.

[ i want you to be strong and confident, he says, and caroline's eyes close for just a moment. his voice rings in echo with stefan's in a bathroom at the fair, you can do this, you're strong enough,, and she nods. she can. she has to. there's no other way. ]

I wasn't planning on it. [ telling people had never been in the cards. if she hadn't been so desperate, she might not have told him. ] But... thank you.

[ for feeding her, for taking her out, for helping. he doesn't have to do that, she's well aware of that, and she really does appreciate it. it's nice to not feel alone. ]

( jason never does anything he has to do. he does what he wants, when he wants to, and nothing else. he's comfortable living that way--not being tied down with obligations but living his own life, on his own time. helping caroline just happens to be something he wants to do.

but he's not putting any of that into words.

instead, he looks her over once. tucks fingers into his belt loops and tilts his head back a bit. looks--like he's contemplating something. )

You hungry?

[ it's an innocuous question, but not one with such an easy answer. caroline hesitates for a moment before she asks one of her own. ]

If I say yes, what's on the menu?

[ because she'll literally always eat, whether it's breakfast or b-positive, but it's good to know what the expectations are. ]

Whatever you feel like, princess.

( he's down for whatever she needs. if it's blood or breakfast or whatever. but jason does--pause for a moment. considers it. )

How often do you need to eat? Is it a three meals a day kinda shtick, or a few times a week?

It's not — [ a pause, mouth twisting to the side a bit as she tries to think ] It's not like a clock is ticking or anything.

[ it's complicated. but he's asked, not demanded, and she feels like she can trust him enough to be honest about this. ]

If I don't feed, I'll dry out. It's like dying, but I wouldn't actually be dead. Just... mummied out and gross, like a paper mache coma patient. [ wow, caro. ] If I eat every day, I don't even think about it. Every couple of days, I feel a little hungry, but the cravings are mostly manageable. Any more than that, I start to get hangry.

[ she shrugs, but there's a little tension in it, a hand lifting to wrap around the back of her neck and rub at the muscles there. ]

The cravings are there pretty much all the time, though. Sometimes I can drink a little or eat something really salty to tide myself over, but it never lasts very long.

( so it's hunger, but it doesn't resemble human feeding patterns. good to know--because jason sure as hell couldn't keep up with feeding her daily. it'd take too much blood out of him, and while he doesn't mind bleeding a bit every once in a while--losing enough to exhaust him isn't an option. )

I can probably manage half a pint every few days without issue. ( it'll be a struggle, but he's struggled plenty of times before. ) If you need any more than that, I've got--allies here who I can ask for a hand from. Ones who won't fuck either of us over. But you've gotta let me know if that hunger gets too bad between meal times.

( so he can call someone before it's a little too late. dick would help, he's certain. he could probably get cain to, after he talks some sense into him. damian, even--but that's. risky. he wouldn't risk damian. even if he does trust caroline not to be a dick and kill people. )

But we'll figure it out.

It doesn't have to be from a person.

[ if that helps. she's tried hard to find anything on the network about zoos or animal shelters or anywhere that might have a collection of four-legged creatures she could get her hands (and fangs) on, but she's had no luck thus far. ]

I mean, I know there's not bunnies or anything running around in the woods, but it doesn't have to be from, like, an actual person standing there holding out their arm. Blood bags are okay, too.

[ sometimes, they're easier. ]

Back home, there was a blood bank. Do they have those here?

People clone shit here. Blood, kidneys--whatever. There probably are some bloodbanks--but security here's tight as hell, too. I'm working on it.

( getting access to cloning tech, finding nooks and crannies to get through the security in the city, something. )

It'll take time, but it's something I'm looking into.

( no promises. but it'd be fucking amazing. jason--has some connections, knows who to talk to, who to go to when it comes to more. . illicit activities around new amsterdam. and he has no problem getting his fingers dirty as long as it keeps everyone else's hands out of it. )

If I can help...

[ she doesn't know if she can. she's always compelled her way through whatever human obstacles she was faced with. told guards to look the other way, told nurses to forget her attacks, told rude girls flirting with her love interests to leave parties. but she's fast, too, and strong — she could sneak into a room and out of it before anyone was the wiser, if she had to. ]

I want to help you.

[ the you is specific. she's not ride or die for much else in this city, but he's helped her more than anyone else thus far, and she's grateful for it. ]

I'll keep it in mind.

( but he's not going to ask her for anything. not here. not with where they're at, when she's still vulnerable and settling in. she's not one of the street-hardened assholes jason usually directs into places he has use for--he's nothing like bruce, doesn't use people but leads them to places they'll be able to thrive in and also provide him with some info. but not caroline. maybe later, but definitely not just yet.

now, he raises a hand up, moves to press it against the top of her head. doesn't ruffle hair any, just. pats it gently. )

Happy birthday.

[ it's a weird gesture, sure, but — well. it puts his wrist so close to her face, her eyes can't help but track its movement, face tipping up to follow the movement like a wild animal following its prey.

which is. you know, what jason technically is. she's technically a predator. but she tries, really tries, to keep her impulses in check. she tries, and so after a beat, caroline swallows, smiles, redirects her eyes from his wrist to his face. ]

Thank you. [ a beat, smile finally reaching her eyes. ] Can we do this again sometime?

'course. Said I'd get you a training regime worked out. ( now he ruffles her hair a little, despite the predatory gaze. jason definitely didn't miss that. but the hand drops from her head shortly after, offers it out, wrist up. )

If you're hungry, eat. I've got blood to spare. ( for now. he hasn't gotten into any fights, hasn't lost any since the last time she took a bite out of his arm. ) I trust you not to go ham on it.

[ don't have to offer her twice. slim fingers wrap around his wrist, her feet pulling her forward to close the gap; she only manages to murmur out a quiet thank you as acknowledgement before teeth sink into the meat of his forearm, firm and sure.

this time, the empathy bond flares up a little more cleanly: gratitude, that ever-present hunger blooming up only to be quieted by the blood that steadily flows from vein to teeth to tongue, a lingering warmth of admiration coloring the edges. it doesn't linger too long, though — not starving, caroline's careful not to take more than a pint, no more than a blood bag at a donor drive, just enough to tide her over.

when she pulls back, her tongue flattens across the wound, cleaning off the last errant droplets that bubble up. the spiderwebbing beneath her eyes sticks around a beat or two while she swallows it down. ]

( forearms, because it's easier to tug that away if need be than if he lets her get her teeth into his neck. jason's apprehensive, angry but it's never at caroline; it's a background thought, never-ending because he's always angry at something. angry at the fuckers who trapped them here, trapped her here without a food source that wasn't her fellow displaced. but there's the underlying pleasure from the bite, too. it's fucked up, spikes the apprehension, but jason doesn't move away. twitches fingers every few moments to make sure they're not falling off, but.

he trusts her enough. she pulls back, licks the last of it off and jason waits until she's entirely done to move his arm back to his side (knees bent for balance, the slight wooziness that comes with bloodloss is a little difficult to hide) and rubs the gloved palm of his opposite hand down against bitemarks. )

Gimmie a minute, and I'll give you a ride back to the safehouse.

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you learned to breathe underwater —

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