lordharry | (no subject)

When they find the intruder on the ship's planks, the crew of the HMS Lilith immediately grasp him, though the struggle he puts up is certainly one that is noted by the first mate. Still, a great number of crewmates against one man is hardly fair, which is the one man is subject to their sharp teeth and hungry looks. "Don't touch him," the first mate warns as they corral him towards the cabin looming at the other end of the ship. "Or he'll know."

There's a hush amongst them at the thought of his displeasure and it seems to do the trick. Soon, they're opening the cabin doors and shoving the man inside, giving little care for the state of him (mildly bleeding cuts, as if to create a pleasing aroma in the Captain's cabin).

Pouring himself a glass of Scotch, the captain does the same for the new captive. "I'd offer to untie the ropes my men placed on you, but I'm far too tired for an escape attempt," Hal notes genially, smiling as he sets the glass before Ichabod, aware he can't drink it. "Sit," he coaxes with a nod towards the chair. "I think you'll find that a ship filled with my convertees, shall we say, are far more than willing to do whatever I say." Voice chilling and icy, it is a sharp contrast to the man he is inside the hotel.

It is the other half.

"Then again, they also know I have absolutely no trouble at all staking their fucking hearts, so it is a rather convenient thing," he continues, as if chatting casually with a friend. "What are you doing here? Did you follow me through the door?"

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"Yes, that's perfect, that is precisely what I need," Hal agrees, breathing and focusing on the economics of such a thing, allowing his physical actions to be the only thing his mind is occupied with. He feels as if his skin is crawling with insects and his mind is quick to join, thinking of how good it would feel to slide into the welcoming abyss of darkness again. "I'll lead the way," he insists, not wanting to have temptation before him.

"And I shall follow."

Part of friendship, by Ichabod's reckoning, was the ability to recognize when a person needed space and he wants to give Hal that space to be able to find himself once more. The monster he'd seen was a facet of Hal he did not think was truly him. Certainly, it had been him but Ichabod has difficulty reconciling that with the careful and cautious man before him now.

"I am at your assistance. You need but ask."

Hal swallows back the sick sensation in his stomach that wants to ask for something that Ichabod can provide, but shouldn't. He wants to slide back into that beautiful, easy place that allows him to do whatever he likes, even if he knows that isn't safe. The moment he hits the library, he is assuaged by so many books out of order that he immediately begins to shelve them according to height, then colour, followed by alphabetical order.

Soon, he feels calm enough to speak. "I had no idea the doors could do such a thing to me."

"We shall have to mark that door and not return," Ichabod agrees. "You were...not yourself. Though as you have explained it to me, I suppose that was the other side of the coin, was it not?"

Frightening, to know that was lurking beneath a mild-mannered surface.

"I'm afraid I was more myself than ever," Hal says, giving Ichabod a long look in which he doesn't blink once. "He's as much me as I am, now. It is the bad cycle, following the good or leading into it. Does it matter?" He breathes out slowly, and tips his head back, running his thumb over his lower lip, which still smells of blood. "I must have turned fifteen, twenty of them," he says. "Something of a quiet day, then."

"I steered you to a port without many people in it," Ichabod confirms. "I picked the smallest town I could, one that was isolated, so hopefully it will not spread further past where we landed. I tried my best to mitigate the worst of it. I knew the Hal that I know now would feel...regret."

"The thing I am now regrets it, but the dark seed in my head is disappointed that the whole world was not raining down with blood and death," Hal says, calm but shaky. "It is the trouble with these cycles. They take it in turns, but when it falls, it is always either much better or much worse than before."

"I am over five hundred years old," he says. "What comes next will be very, very bad."

"Does nothing stay the shift?" It seems that his compulsions seem to assuage it somewhat but Ichabod does not know if there are enough books in the world to prevent the display he just witnessed beyond the door.

"Nothing at all?"

"I wish that there were some marker or time or routine that I could set my watch to," Hal says, fingers fidgeting as he pulls out shelves of books, aiming to calm his mind in the action of working them back in. "And yet, it is unpredictable and wild."

"Hopefully we have been granted a stay for a time," Ichabod says. He does not know how to handle the shift and hopes he will not see another one while he resides in the Nexus.

"I suppose the wise thing to do would be to identify some weakness of yours to be used in case of it happening again."

Hal isn't so sure. With the blood in him now, the fight will be stronger than ever and there are so many doors lurking and lingering and filling him with building dread. "Werewolf blood," he says when Ichabod asks for a weakness. He lifts his sleeve to show off the scarring that Tom's blood had given him. "It's toxic to us. If drank, it will kill us instantly."

"Werewolf blood. There are some here, aren't there?" Ichabod vaguely remembers meeting at least one young werewolf and if there's one, there might well be a pack. They run in packs, as far as he knows.

Then again, this is the Nexus and it seems to play by an entirely different set of rules.

"I'm unsure whether the properties of the wolves here will work as they do at home, but the next time I'm there, I'll ask Tom to provide me with one of the vials he holds so dear." He thinks Tom might want to stake him, but surely Annie would never allow such a thing. "I'll place some for you to hold onto, just in case."

"Only to use in the most dire of situations," Ichabod assures him. The last thing he wants is for Hal to think he doesn't trust him, which isn't the case. He is wary of this other side of him, this destructive side, but Hal seems harmless enough normally. He doesn't always seem dangerous.

"Might I request that you scar before maiming, and both before killing," Hal remarks, with as much humour as he can inject into the words considering they are discussing the end of his very long life, which he only feels he wishes to happen half the time, nowadays.

"Certainly. I have no interest in killing you," Ichabod promises him. "I would never use this information to bring you injury unless I truly needed to. You can trust me with this, Hal, I can assure you of that."