I am sincere, even when I lie

[sourdre]

Jean-Claude found the whole request terribly amusing. And more than a little gratifying to his ego, less so to have his power acknowledged and more in terms of how representative it is of his success in ingratiating himself to the human world. Vampires have not been legal ten years yet, and already Jean-Claude is considered approachable enough, dangerous yet safe enough, to receive requests like these.

There was a considerable amount of work behind that, and more than being a Master of the City or even a sourdre de sang, it is not something another vampire could do, or has done.

So it puts him in a good enough mood to accept. He has many questions of his own, but he prefers to ask them in person and on his own territory. Although he knows phones and computers, Jean-Claude has never gotten comfortable with them, as they remain a peculiarly human insistence. Important vampire functions are always carried out in person, no matter the distance to travel. The time involved feels immaterial when you are immortal until killed.

Of course, he puts on a show for his visitor, awaiting him in an old-fashioned receiving room beneath the Circus of the Damned. The Circus itself might've been an experience just to walk through on the way down - there are a couple truly singular acts, such as the world's last living lamia, a fierce and inhuman woman with the lower body of a snake. On entering the restricted area, the Circus's dark gothic decor meant for tourists gives way to a more sincere and lavish set of living quarters. Bronze sconces and both fine and modern art line the stone walls, far enough underground to be devoid of windows, and tufted area rugs scatter between clean white and black furniture. Staff and residents mill about, casting the visitor curious and sometimes covetous looks, but leave him alone given his escort, who he sheds at the door to the receiving room.

Jean-Claude himself is arranged on a wing-backed armchair, an over-the-top vision in lace and leather, as always, one leg slung over the other. He has an empty wine glass in his hand as a prop, and water and wine set out on a coffee table between the chairs and couches.

"Monsieur Sims, welcome," he says in his smooth, tactile voice, without standing. "Have a seat. Help yourself. It is a pleasure to receive such a distinguished guest so unattached from my normal circles." He smiles a politician's smile, polite and sincere while giving away nothing of substance.

Comments

[end_recording]

"Yes," Jon says heatedly. The promise of a bigger meal doesn't sate him, not really, but Jean-Claude's voice washes over him like cool water, dissolving his tension and frustration for the moment. When the Eye cannot feed on others it contents itself with Jon and while the subtle manipulation Jean-Claude accomplishes with his voice are not it's preferred meal, it is familiar enough.

Sort of like having ice cream for dinner.

[sourdre]

He raises a single eyebrow, watching this without comment for long moments, letting him compose himself a bit.

"Are you returned to me yet, Monsieur? I feel it is your turn to answer questions... if you wish for some reward."

Jean-Claude can't know all the specifics of what's going on here, but he'd intended this to be a small initial lesson in control. Learning to accept a substitute for what you truly want is the real crux of it. It is an eternal balancing act of keeping his hungers just satiated enough with consensual acts that they do not boil over into nonconsensual acts. That's the line Jean-Claude's chosen to walk, even if he can't say he's always able to stay on this side of it - he does try.

Whether Jonathan Sims is receptive to or even able to learn this, or whether Jean-Claude is the appropriate teacher for him, he doesn't yet know. But he does remember all too vividly how it had been to be lost in the ardeur for five years, and to have his teacher at the end of it be Belle Morte, cruelty itself.

[end_recording]

Jon's obviously not used to doing complicated reasoning in this state. His brow furrows softly. But with Jean-Claude no longer giving a statement, the alien intensity does fade from Jon, leaving him blinking mildly, staring at Jean-Claude full in the face.

After a beat, Jon claps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening with horror. Another moment of processing and he jolts out of his chair, putting distance between himself and Jean-Claude, looking wildly around the room. He has no idea whether he should be groveling for forgiveness or attacking - and to Jean-Claude it does look like he's got midway between bristling and cowering. Both options seem overwhelmingly useless.

"I, I - I didn't mean to - " His voice shakes. Jon's not soothed at all by Jean-Claude's casual demeanor. Many others had been casual, indeed cheerful, right before trying to murder Jon.

[sourdre]

So he hadn't been off the mark in his comparison to a new vampire after all.

Since he appears to understand the gravity of the infraction, Jean-Claude isn't about to insist on retaliation. They're not in a situation where he's forced to in order to keep face, and Jean-Claude values every opportunity he gets to use his own discretion on these matters. He doesn't take any pleasure in grinding someone into the dirt who is already remorseful. Though clearly, this is not, in lycanthropic terms, a submissive. Dominant preternatural types are always half-inclined to attack rather than apologize - Jean-Claude himself isn't immune from that instinct.

He continues to remain seated so as to appear unthreatening, leaning back again. "Peace. You will get nowhere if you flee. If you are indeed newly come to your power, I am willing to, how do they say, let bygones be bygones?" He gives another disarming smile.

[end_recording]

Jon grimaces, knowing Jean-Claude is right about his chances if he runs. He does not sit down yet, instead gripping the back of the chair to try and suppress his trembling.

Two years would be considered 'new' by vampire standards, but Jon had mostly stopped accidentally compelling people at this point. Whether it was the presence of so much of the Eye's preferred fare in one place or some effect of Jean-Claude himself effecting Jon's self-control, he couldn't yet say. "I-I, um, I don't usually... Do that." He manages weakly.

[sourdre]

Two years is practically a toddler by vampire standards, it's true. That doesn't necessarily make vampires, or Jean-Claude specifically, more forgiving - the consequences can be just as severe no matter the inexperience - but in this case the consequences are minor.

"Bon, that is encouraging to hear," he replies, some amusement rising now that he feels firmly in control again, the situation recovered. "Perhaps we can determine what set you off." When he's not acting for his audience, and most of his pretence is stripped away, Jean-Claude takes on an eery deathly quality that is characteristic of older vampires. Younger ones might look half-alive at times, but Jean-Claude has shed every habit of the living: no instinctive breathing, no fidgeting, and a fixed gaze and focus that has not the slightest hint of impatience.

"I must ask, what is it that you feed on? I do not recognize it from this interaction." Jean-Claude suspects he hasn't seen his like before, which is not unusual. He is focused on the practicalities here rather than academic interest, himself. Not what are you, but what do you do.

[end_recording]

The stillness itself doesn't bother Jon but he can feel Jean-Claude's implacable gaze with precision. Fitting for the avatar of the Beholding, he does not particularly like being beheld himself. His own gaze is trained on his hands, gripping the chair as if he might tear it. Social awkwardness rather than caution.

Even gripped with pulse-pounding fear, Jon still has to suppress a scowl at the condescension inherent in Jean-Claude's response. Of course he didn't walk in here expecting to expose himself.

Not answering is really not an option. Jon presses his mouth into a thin line. His voice still shakes when he speaks. He still doesn't trust Jean-Claude won't hurt him, or won't decide to keep him as a new attraction in the circus. "I-it's... complicated. Technically, I feed on, on fear. Er, stories about fear. And pain. And - all that."

[sourdre]

It's tough to be more than 500 years old and not end up a little condescending sometimes. He appreciates greatly that Jon has chosen not to be difficult with answering his questions, basic as they are.

Jean-Claude makes a noise of understanding low in his throat. He assumes his profession lining up well with this is not a coincidence, and is more willing to disclose information for personal need than for an archive. "Thus your interest in nighthags. It is very rare, and I think not the same. Those with that ability constantly instill fear in all those around them, though perhaps those I know have never wished not to." He shrugs. "If I did not maintain control, I would compel sexual acts in every room I walked through. By your surprise, I take it you are usually less affected?"

[end_recording]

"Yes." Jon presses a hand to his face, as is trying to hold his trembling body still. He does gain some control back over his voice, though every word seems pried out, reluctant. "I don't know if it's simply the, the... volume of stories in this place o-or, er, something about you in particular."

[sourdre]

So it is more the stories than the emotion itself, perhaps? Or maybe they are both necessary components. It seems a damnably inconvenient hunger to have, to Jean-Claude, though if he is accustomed to better control over it and a job that lets him see it fed, perhaps it is not so bad.

He laces his fingers together placidly over his stomach, at ease. "Perhaps both. I have spent hundreds of years with the Council, mon ami, the oldest, most vicious and most powerful vampires there are. You will not have heard these stories before - there are no humans that survive them to speak, and I am the first of my kind to welcome public attention.

"If you want stories of fear and pain, that you have not heard before - " Jean-Claude chuckles, a vibrant sound with a resonance behind it. "Those sworn to me here have even more, that they would not say without my approval. I would not be surprised if you could sense it. Like a rare vintage."

It's a comfortable, familiar position for him, to more or less bargain with the currency they have. Jean-Claude isn't cavalier about offering anything, and indeed he hasn't made any offers beyond his own so far, but one does open a negotiation by persuading the other you have something they want. And it seems Jonathan is like any other vampire, in that what he most craves might be novelty.

[end_recording]

"It's not that simple," Jon snaps, confusion now making him more irritated than afraid. Is this Jean-Claude trying to collect him after all? Seduce him, so to speak, with an endless buffet? And if Jon refuses the nice offer... Perhaps Jon would see first hand what his voice could do. His laugh alone thrums against Jon's spine as if it were a plucked chord.

"Wh, when I take a statement directly from a subject, I. Feel it. And so do they. All of it, all over again. It's not pleasant." For the subject. For Jon, it is an all-too fleeting respite from hunger and pain and uncertainty.

[sourdre]

Alas that Jean-Claude could afford to be public about his disdain for Nikolaos. He is a businessman and the Circus is very profitable, and he doesn't mind it per se as a business itself, but with few exceptions the current state of affairs is something he inherited from Nikolaos. It is taking time to shift it into something more palatable, and in the meantime he is stuck with this façade.

He listens with evident interest. "Yet you still do so? I presume there are some kind of dire consequences should you not."

[end_recording]

Jon rubs his hand over his face, then drops it back to the chair. He makes no move to sit down again, still too keyed up to be comfortable sitting.

"Not very often. I usually get by on written statements. They're..." Jon sighs, resigning himself to another food analogy. "Not as filling. But they don't harm the subject."

[sourdre]

"I see," he answers thoughtfully. He can't help but think he's fortunate in at least this respect with the ardeur. Jean-Claude never lacks for willing subjects, and at this stage in his life, he has the immense privilege of being able to be choosey.

"Is there not some benefit to them after all? Do they find it cathartic to relive the scene, perhaps?"

At least in vampires, their abilities tend to include some payoff for the victim, as a survival mechanism to lure in prey. There are a few exceptions, of course, but Jean-Claude doesn't expect them to ever be willing to live in harmony with humanity the way he does. That would be cruel to impose on someone who seems human to his senses.

[end_recording]

"It varies." Jon replies curtly. His fidgeting takes a different air as he looks around the room, restless. He's unused to having to explain all this to a stranger, and, frankly, unused to being asked at all. The other avatars do not like to compare notes and most of his coworkers simply thought he was a bit weird about statements.

"Look - " And Jon does look at Jean-Claude in the face, completely forgetting caution. "I, I apologize. Really. A-and it won't happen again." Jon doesn't sound confident so he hurries past it. "I should, um, go have a few statements and we can meet again tomorrow." His tone lifts slightly at the end, more of a hopeful question.

[sourdre]

It varies because it varies, or because he doesn't know how it works? Difficult to tell.

Jean-Claude thinks better of him for the apology, although he notes the lack of confidence there. "If that is what you wish, I have no objections," he replies smoothly. "But, I must confess, you intrigue me. I believe I have one who could offer you a much better meal, mon sauvage, if you do not mind some supervision. It would be a good exercise, non?"

[end_recording]

Jon suspects that intriguing a vampire as old and dangerous as Jean-Claude is not particularly good for one's health. Yet the scowl that Jean-Claude's epithet brings out soon gives way to a conflicted frown, even as Jon thinks stupid, stupid stupid. How many of his scars had come from offers just like that? Come, Archivist, don't you want to know?

But he did want to know. Always, no matter the cost. The Eye hadn't done that to him, merely co-opted it for its own purposes.

"... Fine," Jon sounds resigned. He doesn't really like the idea of being watched while he's... feeding but he could hardly argue for privacy.

[sourdre]

Jean-Claude isn't about to offer up himself cavalierly. He didn't become a Master so he wouldn't use his privileges. And, besides, he is not free enough with his emotions to be a good meal, he thinks, while he has someone who he keeps explicitly because he is. He thinks he will serve in this capacity as well.

Jason has always been so good-natured about being thrown under the bus, as the Americans would put it. But Jean-Claude does insist on supervision for his sake, more than for his own curiosity. He throws Jason into things - but he never abandons him there.

"I must see if he consents, but I think he will," Jean-Claude declares, standing up finally. He's taller than he seems sitting down, over six feet. "Wait here, s'il vous plaît. And - as bold as you are, I feel I should remind you it is quite flirtatious to meet a vampire's eyes. You are lucky I am so good at resisting temptation."

He sounds amused as he says it, pausing to observe his reaction before leaving.

[end_recording]

There's an instinctive flinch as Jean-Claude moves, with Jon simultaneously gripping the back of the chair harder and taking a step back.

Jon's dark skin doesn't show a flush very easily, but it's obvious from his expression that Jean-Claude's remark landed exactly how he wanted. Jon swallows and looks away, muttering. "R, right. Th, thank you for your... restraint." He can't help but sound a little sarcastic about it; Jon was well-aware of what he looked like.

[sourdre]

As much as he's a more publicly palatable kind of vampire, it's still gratifying to have Jon show a trace of fear, and moreso to show sarcasm through it, pushing to show his independence.

"It would be quite rude, would it not," he murmurs. "Since you have not invited me." His tone makes it clear that is an open suggestion, but he doesn't wait for the reply before sweeping silently out of the room to fetch Jason.

Jean-Claude is not like Belle Morte, who wants to surround herself with only the most beautiful people and pets and things, as if something less than stunning will mar her own beauty. Vain as he is, there are still some days he is tired by how much he is reduced to his looks. It is a tool, and he uses it well, and he does enjoy the aesthetics... but suffice to say, he is not so shallow anymore.

Like any other old vampire, he does value novelty. And he does like to collect powerful people, of any species. But Jean-Claude is, above all, a seducer. He wants them to stay of their own volition, because they get something out of it. It is a nice luxury when he can do that.

He finds Jason in his own bed, perfectly naked. Jean-Claude sits beside him and strokes a hand down his bare side to wake him, who yawns and slowly opens his eyes with a muzzy, Again, Master? Only Jason calls him Master in that cheeky tone.

"Non, I have something else I wish to ask of you... which you may refuse."

[end_recording]

Jon is left frowning over that as if Jean-Claude had tossed him a puzzle. Well, if Jean-Claude was willing to demonstrate his powers, then good. Great. Jon would need to see them first-hand regardless.

Jon considers having a smoke while he waits, but he hadn't asked if Jean-Claude minded and he doesn't want to push his luck. He should walk out now, while Jean-Claude is away, but Jon wearily shoves that thought aside as soon as he has it. Instead, Jon slowly unbends his fingers from the chair so he can make his way to the tape recorder and rewind it back to the start. Best if no part of that conversation is left lying around.

[sourdre]

It's perhaps ten minutes before the door opens again, Jean-Claude followed by Jason, who pads after him on bare feet. Jason is an almost unfairly attractive blond man in his mid-twenties, dressed in skintight light-wash jeans and a too-thin blue t-shirt. His only other decoration is the very obvious set of bite marks across his neck. Beside Jean-Claude, there's something alive and almost wild about him, a werewolf not trying to hide his nature, though at the moment he's fairly subdued. Reluctant, but not unwilling.

"Jason, this is Jonathan Sims, the archivist come to visit us. Monsieur Sims, this is Jason, my pomme de sang. He has consented to telling you a particular story that I think you will enjoy." After a moment, he adds, "You may compel him or not as you wish, so long as you are not cruel."

There's a somewhat awkward beat before Jason says with a smile, "Nice to meet you. Don't be too rough, it's my first time."

He's not entirely his normal gregarious self, but this isn't enough to quash his reflex for innuendo. Jason is an irreverent shit, but he's also a submissive and fairly low in the pack if not for Jean-Claude's guardianship. This isn't his first time being offered up as food, and frankly this is one of the least objectionable things he's ever been asked to do. He even gets Jean-Claude here as a safeguard, who's a possessive bastard of his things even if he doesn't seem it. It's one of Jason's favorite qualities about him.

So... alright. He'll relive it in a safe environment, for Jean-Claude.

[end_recording]

By the time they get back, Jon has at least forced himself to sit again. Jean-Claude may be gratified to see that Jon doesn't seem to notice Jason's looks, either. Nor does he notice the innuendo. The look he gives Jason is abstracted, comparing the savor of Jason's history to Jean-Claude's.

It's rather like comparing a carrot to a five course meal.

Jon clears his throat lightly. "Right... the, the compulsion itself is not unpleasant. It should simply help you, er, articulate." He takes a deep breath, and turns the recorder on. "Please state your name for the record..." and once that's done, Jon pitches his voice, so soft it's merely a murmur.

"Tell me."

Jason will feel the compulsion as a warm tingle down his spine, and the sudden removal of all his reservations. It seems like a lovely idea to tell Jon all about this incident, like it will make him feel better.

Jon is much more sedate throughout this statement. Unmoving, unblinking while Jason speaks. And the statement itself will be comprehensive, detailed, and well-ordered, regardless of Jason's natural story-telling abilities, regardless if there was anything he wanted to hold back.

And when it's over... The reason the catharsis of making a statement varies is for the simple, mundane reason that people are different. Whether Jason truly will feel unburdened after it all is purely based on his own disposition.

[sourdre]

It isn't so bad in comparison, and it does have the advantage of being much more easily accessible than Jean-Claude's personal stories. Jason is a good storyteller to begin with, without much reservation or masking of emotion, and he'd had multiple encounters with rotting vampires. After the first, he'd developed a phobia, which makes his recounting especially harrowing. Even speaking about them provokes a sincere throat-clenching fear and increased heart rate.

The stories themselves are somewhat revealing, too. Rotting vampires can intentionally induce decomposition in their own flesh, and Jason had in all cases been chosen specifically for his fear as a form of psychological torture, with the vampires holding him down as they dripped putrid flesh and sloughed skin. His descriptions are grotesque and even plain gross - and the reasons he gives for having to endure it is always some form of vampire politics.

He does, actually, feel better at the end. Jason barely talks about these incidents, and he's an outgoing person: having it out in the air does help him. He comes out of something like a trance blinking, and feeling wrung out but oddly lighter. Completely different from how he does when Jean-Claude feeds on him, either blood or sex - that's a heavy sensation, deliciously sedating.

"Hey, not bad," he says with honest surprise. "I thought this was going to be a lot worse. Not that it's my idea of a good time - " He rummages up a saucy wink at Jon, purely on reflex, and executes it decently well despite his mental state. "But almost like a month of therapy compressed into half an hour."

Jean-Claude reaches out to run an appreciative hand down Jason's bare arm, which earns him a grin and unashamed direct eye contact. "I am glad to hear it, mon loup. You are as delightfully adventurous as always."

[end_recording]

Conversely Jon does have the dazed look of someone having just finished a heavy meal. The satiety Jon feels after a live statement is fleeting but potent, and that had indeed been a particularly full statement, richer than he had taken in a long while. And novel; if he were more clear-headed his mind would be buzzing over new information. But for now the urge to lie down and bask in the buoyant, contented fullness is strong.

So he takes a long, belated moment to respond. "Um, g, good," He murmurs, tentative. It's always an adjective he is leery of applying in these situations, but verbal nuance is beyond him at the moment.

He does rouse himself to look at Jason when he speaks again. "... Thank you," He manages with more composure. His eyes flick to Jean-Claude, a subtle inclusion - once again forgetting not to look him in the eyes - and then jerk down as he retrieves the tape recorder to fuss with.