Come away little lamb

come away to the water

Come away little lamb come away to the slaughter

The hallway was bright. Gwen thought that everything about this place was too bright. But she was here because Santiago had said that she could be. She was here because she was supposedly helping with the research. But Gwen didn’t think that there was anything in any of these experiments that she could help with. Her knowledge when it came to the histories of medicine was vast, but nothing here was like she had seen before. Nothing looked like it was going to work either. Whatever they had, it wasn’t going to make much of a difference. Not now, anyway.

Maybe it would, eventually. Maybe one of them would stumble upon something that was going to actually help them. But she doubted it. Instead she had found her way upstairs to see her niece, and now she was simply wandering about. It wasn’t dark enough to leave yet, though she knew that it would be soon enough. The late afternoon sun was already starting to disappear behind the skyline, and Gwen was glad for it. She appreciated winter, for the hours that she could spend outside.

There were those that she knew that mourned the sun, and she had too, in the beginning. But millennia had passed since then, and she mourned no more. The night had draws all its own, and Gwen had grown to appreciate them. While she thought that being a vampire was still something that she wished on no one, she was glad that she was here now. She was glad to be of comfort to her humans. And she was glad that this curse had already stripped her of her magic. It was a loss that she could empathize with. Though accompanying her loss had also been the loss of the peace of death.

Her heels echoed in the quiet halls. Shift change had only just occurred, and the nurses had seemed to settle in for a moment. There was a lull before the patients started ringing bells for dinner. Though she knew better than most what it was like to be truly hungry, Gwen had never found herself to be all that ravenous. She had learned control, and moderation in the very beginning. Killing only when she must and drinking only what she needed. Unless, of course, it was for a game. Because games were entirely different.

Turning the corner, she smirked when she realized that there was someone else in the hallway. The girl looked young, even by Gwen’s standards, and to her, everyone was young. “Hello...” Her voice was low, and she thought that she could smell the human on her. Of course, this entire place smelled of humans. But she had been a nurse for much of her existence as a vampire. She was used to the harsh smells. She knew just what they meant. Death was all around them. But there were other smells here too. One room smelled strongly of wolf.

“What are you doing here?” The vampire tilted her head to the side to look at the girl. Taller than she was, that was obvious, but most people were. As she got closer, she thought that perhaps the girl was old enough to work here after all. But she wasn’t in scrubs. Was she visiting someone? Then again, Gwen worked here, sort of, and she didn’t look like she necessarily belonged either.

Medea Giovana Stone • 564 • gwendolyn's outfit

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[attr="class","title1"]Come Away to the Water

[attr="class","subtitle1"]To the One Appointed to see this through

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She was lucky to have gotten the internship. She knew it was little more than that, that she'd been allowed to be one of the nurse interns. It would be be a reliable job, and with other muggle-born wixen allowed a return to jobs if they had a Healing career, it had seemed one of the safest ones to choose. What had she originally chosen during the meeting with Beauchamp? Arithmencer had been her dream then, but that was along the worst of Sand, and she'd pressed her mouth shut, she thought. Whatever's reliable and can earn money, she'd said, or something to those lines. She'd wanted freedom from Sand for herself and her siblings, and that was how she'd pictured it happening. Getting a flat with Cass, and the two of them working as much as they could to support their family, and Jason making sure they. . remembered to eat themselves, kept everyone else's spirits up.

She'd been pretty good at Potions before this, had been pretty good at most of the subjects needed for Healer requirements. Her OWLs had been fairly high enough, for all that she'd struggled on the written part of the exams. She could never spin word together and weave a story from ink and paper. She could paint a picture, but so much of that was angles, was shading and steady and reliable, never dependent like writing. Far too much of her homework during the holidays when she'd been in Hogwarts was worked out by her sister, who's sit down and write the history paper, her her patch up her essays for Transfigurations and Potions into something more legible and understandable.

With all that-- the loss of her magic, her variable skills and weaknesses as well as her long absence from formal schooling had impacted her progress. Absence was a kind way of putting it, but the return was good. She barely felt safer, but she saw her siblings more, she was able to see that they were safer, she was able to step in for a lot of things if they were going wrong, she was able to be an interpreter for Zachary and Zia. And yes, that made things better. That helped, and everything she did was for them, but. . .

Medea would be lying if she said the internship didn't feel good. She was always learning something, she was out of the castle, she was moving around, and she was treated more human. Of course there were Healers didn't like the muggleborn with them, magicless to boot. But she was also a sort of test case, maybe, where Mungo's was seeing about training people in the normal way. The nonmagical way, see to it that they got both. Things were fast-paced in the hospitals, and it was a sort of rush that she liked. She could deal with sideways glances, with crisper tones, with microagressions and slurs. She'd survived Sand, she'd survived Nott. This was not worse, could not be worse.

And it wasn't.

There were people who were friendly to her, even gave her some few suggestions. One or two had mentioned that she didn't always need to be in scrubs, particularly in the evenings. Medea wasn't quite sure of that logic, but it helped. Had it been Nott or Sand, or someone who sneered, she'd'e tried to find the trick, which in this case would be simple. But as it was, she was exhausted with the mind games. If she was to get pulled up for disciplinary action from being out of dress code, she would accept it. She might lose her newfound freedom, but for now being in clothing she'd chosen was something she had control over. She was off shift now, and the the patients were going to get dinner, which meant she should probably leave at some point to get her own at Hogwarts. But she ended earlier tonight, at least.

Heels echoed through the halls, though not the loud clacking that she associated with those hurrying around. No, they were rather more sedentary, rather more casual. Kudos to those who could do heels in a hospital, really. Arches of iron to go with self-control, and she didn't doubt that for a second. She quickly moved off to the side of the hall, making sure she wasn't in the way, as sometimes people didn't take to that so well. Anticipate, then react accordingly.

That the newcomer was a woman was not unexpected. The bright pop of a red leather jacket was unexpected, as was the smaller height. Not so much shorter than most she knew, as Medea was a little taller than average, but something about the woman felt taller, or perhaps something about her made herself feel shorter. Six inches or so, maybe, fifteen centimeters give or take two or three. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but the presence of the other woman seemed very much so. . .

It wasn't the haughty confidence of Death Eaters, no. She was well aware that it was different. Much as they might call it natural, it usually seemed somewhat affected. With this woman, what she had seemed as full a part of her, as usual as her lipstick. Which she was certainly not noticing, thank you very much. She would have remembered this woman if she'd met her before, she knew. If she'd seen her, there was no way she'd forget a face like that. Or a voice like that, she was suddenly aware. She could feel that a pink flush crawled up her collarbones, but she was certain she could blame that on temperatures. Especially the sudden air that brushed against her face.

"Hi," she pushed her lips up into a sort-of smile. An easy twist of the lips that she'd made often enough with others, not edged enough to be bitter, not quite forced enough to be strained. "I. . I intern here, my shift ended with the rest, I. . ." She had gone through so much, she was a bloody adult for fuck's sake, and she was reduced to this. Uncertainly emphasized her accent. "Thought to catch my breath, maybe my thoughts. If I'm in your way, I can find my way out, of course."

[attr="class","tags1"]☆ @gwendolyn , outfit , 1038 words ☆

[attr="class","credz1"]❤fai

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COME AWAY LITTLE LAMB

COME AWAY TO THE WATER

COME AWAY LITTLE LAMB COME AWAY TO THE SLAUGHTER

Being trapped in the hospital all day had not been the plan, but when she didn’t actually have to sleep, it was not all that difficult to spend her time here. And Santiago hadn’t seemed to mind when she had shown up and started helping. She could research just as well as anyone else, and she had some experience with plagues and epidemics. She had lived through enough to them to know how the patterns tended to work. This didn’t seem to follow any natural phenomenon. There was no clear pattern, and that made her suspicious. As did the fact that it had seemingly stopped spreading. Not completely, but there were still people that retained their magic that hadn’t been infected in the first waves. Villages, outcroppings. People that hadn’t been exposed. They were exposed now.

People were still getting sick, but it wasn’t something that you could get again. It was like the entire population had gotten the Black Plague, and then it had up and disappeared. The virus stuck around. People still got it from time to time. But it wasn’t something that was all that common. It wasn’t something that they could predict, or control. And Gwen thought that that was really the problem. They had no control.

Humans were really very fragile creatures. And when they lost control of something, it tended to kill them. Disease. War. Famine. When they weren’t in complete control, people died, and Gwen didn’t know how much dying they could actually handle right now. Only a handful had died from the epidemic, and even then, they had determined that it wasn’t the virus itself that had caused the deaths. It was the symptoms. She had no answers for that. No one did.

They were running an uphill race against time. And she didn’t think that they were even getting close to pulling ahead. They were going to die. All of them. And they were going to die without magic fixing itself. It was a plague, but like all plagues it seemed to be running its. Young people were either going to get it, or they weren’t, and she didn’t know what that was going to change. She didn’t know if they were going to create a big enough population of healthy individuals that were susceptible that it was going to crop back up, or not. All she knew was that they didn’t know anything.

And not knowing anything was making the humans restless. And restless humans became dangerous humans. That had always been the case. Gwen didn’t really remember being human. At least not the mundane things. After two millennia things had faded. But there were some things that were clear as day. And Gwen thought that remembering that humans had always been cruel was one of them. They were by far crueler than vampires. And she knew that might have sounded crazy, but it was the truth. They were more deadly than the deadliest vampires. Because when vampires killed hundreds, and thousands of people, they did it over decades. Over millennia. Humans did it in minutes.

Gwen moved with a purpose through the halls. She couldn’t move exceptionally fast. She was not exceptionally strong. But she knew that she carried with her a power unlike any others here. She could recognize a vampire from a long distance, and she could recognize a wolf as well. There was one here somewhere. She could smell it. But the girl in front of her was not a wolf at all. She was human. And Gwen thought that the smell of her blood was far less tainted than some of the others that she had tried. Not perfect, she could tell that by the smell too. But young, and magical.

Those were the things that mattered. The magical bit especially. She could smell the differences in composition as well. Those that still had magic, and those that did not. It was all there, in the way that they smelled. This girl did not have her magic. So no longer a girl. It hadn’t affected anyone that was not of age. “I see.” Her voice stayed the same, low, and melodic. Softly seductive in a way that she wasn’t even trying to be, but that just came naturally after all of these years. “You’re not in my way…” Gwen took a step closer to her and tilted her head back the other direction. “Do I make you nervous, my dear?”

@ little lamb • 745 • gwendolyn's outfit

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[attr="class","title1"]Come Away to the Water

[attr="class","subtitle1"]To the One Appointed to see this through

[attr="class","wordz"]

Medea swallowed at the lowness, the richness, the sound wrapping around her ears and aiming straight to her lower belly. Oh, this was a very different turn of conversation, one she liked much better. She did have some momentary regret the flannel only had two buttons , as she did know her well. . . seven best features, to be crude, and only three of which were immediately visible and obvious. Eyes, mouth, chest, and hands, really, with little way to draw any more attention to the middle. Never mind, really, because she wasn't quite that loose in her mind to pop another button one minute into the conversation, much as the camisole did help the flannel complement her eyes.

No, she wasn't nervous. She'd gone through a lot, Sand and Nott and a moat filled with Inferi, the rise of something else thrumming through her body. It certainly wasn't alone in this very moment, she knew, her insides half-clenching in such a familiar way. So, no, she wasn't nervous, because she'd learned to suppress feelings of fear, uncertainty, suppress anger until it coiled up to lash out, suppress and suppress and suppress--

There were few outlets she'd allowed herself to have. Art was one of them, Arithmency another. Art required a lot she didn't have time to give, required introspection and money and. . .much else. All Arithmency required were library books, parchment, and pens (much cheaper than quills and ink, at least), enough that she could sometimes scrawl it late at night when there was no one around. It wasn't difficult to avoid others-- she wasn't quite known, outside of the Arithmency classroom, and she'd never really been known even to most of the people she'd shared a dorm with before.

Those she'd now been with for not-yet-three weeks had even less of a chance to know her, and she certainly wasn't going to make friends with. . .Lisa, or whatever her name was. Prefect Arithmency was similarly disinterested, and what she knew about. . . the third girl was less than her name, of which she was admittedly uncertain. No, avoiding everyone was easier, like it had always been. She'd never needed anyone but Cass and Jason, and she was fine as long as she had them.

No one knew her this year, no one but her siblings. And hell, the kids who thought themselves tough and wanted to pick on her siblings also didn't know her, so lack of resemblance was certainly a plus there. Besides, with all the new professors, few of them knew her enough there, so the times she was out on her internship, there weren't really enough people to realize she wasn't there. Oh, she knew there was more than that, technically, but who cared about a Mudblood going out later? She was in her classes the next day, that was all that was really noticed. She hadn't been as cheap as the night before she'd gone into Pyxis, sitting and drinking at the Leaky, looking and waiting.

But hell, if she'd known. . .

Her teeth caught her lower lip, eyes lowering. No, there wasn't exactly a way she'd be allowed in the hospital before this term, and she rather doubted that she could have gotten the internship when Wentzell was headmistress. Really, that position seemed cursed, the way that in four years, they've had four headmasters. High turnover rate was really something, and another reason she knew that she wasn't too well known. Thank god for small miracles, really. She wouldn't consider this illness one, not with how she'd been fevered and unable to move, stumbling around as any Inferi might when she'd caught the fever somehow. But it certainly had likely played a part in being able to have this internship, never mind being back in school.

Her eyes traced the lines of the other woman's face, drinking it in slowly. "No, but I haven't much reason to be." She released her lip, lips curving into a hint of a smile, eyebrows arching slightly. "Do I?" Oh, there were plenty of reasons she should be. The fact that she didn't know the other woman's name, her views. That she could really be anyone, could really not be happy if she'd found out she'd been flirting with a Mudblood. That she might very well know, and still might want something to play for.

Trust was not something she'd had much of growing up, and affairs had always required very little trust, after all. Only enough to wake up the next day, only enough to leave. There was a reason she'd sought out others, was a reason let herself be reckless. She liked it more that way, when there didn't need to be much, didn't need much more than physicality. Was it unhealthy? Yes. Was there anyone who could judge her? No, not really. She used protection, and she hadn't gone with the more obvious predatory ones, at least. Her gut was at least somewhat reliable usually.

Her eyes moved over the other woman's face again, drinking it in. Hair dark as night, some of the palest skin she's seen, that lipstick stark and well-applied. Dramatic, really, a contrast well-suited for sketches and painting. "I'm Medea, and you are. . .?" She let the question hang, curious to see how the game would be played. Would it be turned around to mock the concept of names, personal or otherwise? Obvious humor? A wry response, or simply a name to call her? It didn't even have to to be a true name, really.

[attr="class","tags1"]☆ @small, dark, and beautiful stranger outfit , 920 words ☆

[attr="class","credz1"]❤fai

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COME AWAY LITTLE LAMB

COME AWAY TO THE WATER

COME AWAY LITTLE LAMB COME AWAY TO THE SLAUGHTER

The hospital wasn’t the worst place that she could have been. Gwen thought that there were far more tedious places to have to spend the day. Most often she liked to spend the day at Bowfield. But being home had not been an option today, and so she had been here. She was helpful here. She had seen things that not many others had anymore. She was old. And she knew it. Gwen liked to keep her true age to herself. But there were plenty that knew that she had been around for roughly two millennia. That was a long time for anyone to be alive.

It had given her plenty of knowledge of the world, and it’s innerworkings. She knew a lot of things. She knew a lot of people. And she had seen rises and falls of empires. She had seen people kill for nothing and sacrifice for everything. Gwen had been around to see it all, and she thought that it was always more interesting to try and look at things from a human perspective. It seemed to them as if this were dragging on for forever, and yet Gwen had been without her magic for nearly two thousand years. You got used to it. And at least they were not confined to the night.

She had gotten used to that as well. But she would never be pleased with the fact that she had had those decisions taken away from her. She did not think that she would have chosen this life. Though she had done it for her sister. Or rather her sister had done it to her. She was a vampire because Tina had not wanted to be alone. And now they were neither one of them alone. Though they had been around for thousands of years, and rarely spent more than ten together in one place before one of them moved on.

It was harder to be around one another longer than that. When they took lovers like they did, and when they were both drawn to the powerful, and the talented, they couldn’t stand to be around one another too long without fighting over their pets. It was, perhaps, a horrid habit for women of their age, but it was also just too much fun to give up fighting one another over men. Or women. Gwen didn’t particularly care which anymore. She liked the draw of either.

She didn’t, however, think that she was going to be sharing the pet in front of her with her sister. She was a far cry from what Gwen would have normally chosen. But there was something so innocent looking about her, that she couldn’t let the opportunity go by without doing something about it. And if she could have this little lamb, then she was going to. She liked to take what she wanted, and she looked prime for the taking.

“That depends…” She smirked a little bit as she decided whether or not to reveal what she was to this pet. Gwen didn’t care who knew that she was a vampire. There were plenty on the staff here that knew exactly what she was. She could help with the epidemic without the fear of becoming infected. She thought that the girl had plenty of a reason to be nervous, if she decided that she was bored of her, and just wanted a snack. But she didn’t think that killing her was the answer right now either.

“Does it matter?” Her smirk turned a little more wicked as she asked for her name. “You are a lamb… What do you wish to call me?” There was much more to be learned in that. She could ask for her name, or she could ask for something else. She could call her nothing at all. Gwen could be a figment of this child’s imagination, if that was all that she wished her to be by the time that night truly fell, and she disappeared again.

@ little lamb • 660 • gwendolyn's outfit

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[attr="class","title-medea"]Come Away to the Water

[attr="class","subtitle-medea"] TO THE ONE APPOINTED TO SEE THIS THROUGH

[attr="class","wordz-medea"] Medea certainly felt lucky now, that she'd chosen to go back to Hogwarts, that the job that provided freedom to Muggleborns was one that she could do, even without magic. After all, it had helped lead her to this moment, flirting with a very attractive woman. She had no doubt that if she'd had to stay with Nott, her visits would have been heavily restricted unless he for some reason wanted her to survive an experiment and had her checked in-- if they took her, that was.

Of course, if this woman was her Healer (or nurse), she had no doubt she'd still be flirting from her hospital bed, though she didn't think it would be as successful as this (with just some more luck) would be. It was far easier to turn that down when you were on the clock, and it was more likely than not that she'd be an annoyance. Still, there was always the chance it wasn't so. As it was though, she much preferred flirting with the woman while standing on her own two feet, healthy as she might be.

As she knew from experience, after all, there were several activities that were enjoyed more on both parts when the partners were healthier. There was stamina involved after all, and it was a bit harder to keep that up when you were half-starved or had more demons than usual in your head. It was also far more reassuring when you weren't constantly worried you'd snap the other in half, leave a bruise that lasted longer than it ought to, or press too much on a bruise if the other partner wasn't fond of that.

Oh, she herself didn't mind that, little added pressures and reminders of what had happened before, imprints of others that she'd chosen to be there, marks that she wanted. It was another sort of choice that she'd found she liked as things with Sand had gotten worse, how she'd much preferred a nip to her collarbone than his fingers bruising her wrists, long scratches on her back than a slash of a spell. The tamer ones were fairly easy to hide when she chose to keep them as she more often than not did, and with whatever pressure or pain that she'd chosen to get entangled in, there was usually pleasure involved that was certainly not sadistically one-sided.

She'd rarely chosen poor partners, and maybe that was growing up in New York City, learning to read people to find the creeps, or her mother's hoard of husbands, Sand who'd known well how to hide his true nature when with most of the children and her mother while he took out whatever he wanted to on the two eldest, playing with them and hurting them, then Healing away everything to give no proof of his punishments. She'd learned from him, from Cass's poor choice in boyfriends in her own wild phase that had saddled her with raising a child alone.

Women were easier, but that was not to say they were any less dangerous. Medea had no illusions that she would be at the mercy of this woman, about who would certainly be taking charge more often than not, if all was well. She certainly hoped so at least-- there was something also freeing about choosing to be bound. Oh, yes. That was a lovely answer. "On if I behave, or how you feel at the time?" It was certainly a bold question, though if luck treated her well tonight, she was sure she'd like the answer. Really, there wasn't much of a way to not, unless she was outwardly dismissed and fired.

This was definitely hitting her right, with warm curls in her lower belly, and Medea was being shown far too much kindness by the world. It would reverberate, she knew, and she'd pay for this later, and likely not in the most enjoyable of ways that she intended to experience relatively soon. She wasn't quite so optimistic that it would be today, though that would certainly be enjoyable.

I'd would like to know what name to call. . .though no, that would definitely be far too forward. This would only be the ninth sentence she would be saying, and she should at least wait until she said a few more to say that. Quite possibly, at least. Likely. "A lamb, am I? Then you must be. . ." Coyote? No, and a wolf wouldn't serve either. Neither would a bobcat or a bear. "A pantheress or a lioness, I would think. They are natural predators, after all." There was always the option of Siren, but luckily she had remembered those existed before she voiced that as a name.

[attr="class","tags-medea"]☆ @small, dark, and beautiful, 786 words, outfit ☆

[attr="class","credz-medea"]❤fai

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COME AWAY LITTLE LAMB

COME AWAY TO THE WATER

COME AWAY LITTLE LAMB COME AWAY TO THE SLAUGHTER

“On what I choose…” Gwen knew that she had had her fair share of playthings over the years. There had been mortals that she had wanted to have in her life, and mortals that she had simply used and released. This one in particular was just doe eyed enough that she could keep Gwen’s attention for at least a little while. Today, if nothing else. There would be plenty of time for that when she was moving in and out of people’s lives. For the moment, that had meant here in the hospital. She had gotten stuck in here today, and it had been a matter of trying to find an umbrella on an obnoxiously sunny day, or just waiting it out.

She could be useful here. She had studied medicine throughout the centuries. Though she had found that she always preferred nursing to actually being the doctor. There was far less hatred directed at the nurse, and she didn’t think that anyone really noticed when the same nurses were on shift after shift after shift. That had been helpful during wars, and in wards where they were a little more suspicious. These days people cared far less that she was a vampire.

There had been a time though, when she had had to protect that secret, or risk someone coming along and trying to kill her. There were still plenty of people that would try and kill her given half the chance, but Gwen was smarter than a good majority of them, and she knew London well. It had changed some, of course, but it was a familiar haunt to her. It had been for a very long time. She had liked London for years. She had liked England for even longer. But none of that mattered now.

She didn’t know this girl, and she hadn’t really decided if she wanted to. But she thought that it was worth it. She thought that it was worth knowing if they were going to do something more with their afternoon, or if she was just going to taunt her a little bit and let her walk away. A game of cat and mouse. Of lamb and wolf. Because she knew that she could be the one that was going to make a difference. She knew that she could be the lynch pin in this girl’s day. If she wanted to be. If she thought that that was the thing that she wanted to do.

And so far, she hadn’t ruled it out. She hadn’t decided that she didn’t want to find an on-call room and see if this girl was just as sweet as she looked like she could be. Humans were fun in that way. That they were often times disposable. But there was something about this one. She seemed like she might be fun to play with. Fun to toy with. For just a little while more.

“More like a wolf…” She smirked a little bit, “I tend to hunt alone.” She knew that that was a cliché, but honestly, she didn’t care. Gwen was a walking cliché at the best of times. And she was right about one thing, it was often timing a hunt. This girl was simply tonight’s prey. “Tell me, Little One, just how old are you?” It didn’t matter, all mortals were merely children, but this one seemed particularly young.

@ little lamb • 566 • gwendolyn's outfit

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