I need new clothes, I need somewhere to stay

[salamanca]

Who: Lalo Salamanca and YOU.
What: Lalo comes back from his travels with Methuselah badly injured.
When: January 29th thru the next week or so after
Where: Around town. See individual prompts.

Content Warnings: Description of injury, blood, and infection; others tba.

See individual prompts in the starters below.

Comments

[salamanca]

When Louis slides back into his seat, looking sick, Lalo feels a whoosh of relief. Just some Poindexter trying not to vomit all over himself at the sight of blood. Lalo should've figured.

But that doesn't explain the terror he'd felt, in the pit of his stomach, at hearing Louis speak low enough for only the two of them to hear. It doesn't explain why he'd felt compelled to offer such a thing in the first place.

Because Lalo remembers, in that moment, as he slowly wraps up his wound again, covering it in bandages once more, how Louis had spoken to him in a low voice, how it felt like he was going to die. No. Not die. Lalo isn't afraid to die. It felt like something worse was going to happen. Like he was going to be tortured, slowly.

That seems hard to believe now, looking at Louis trying not to be sick. What had he been so scared of, only a few seconds ago? His fear had been obvious, too. Eyes widening. No shaking, no obvious physical cues, but the energy of sheer terror had practically jumped off of him even without Lalo doing anything obvious.

Now, though, it seems replaced by mostly confusion. He doesn't understand the power this man holds over him. Louis is attractive, sure, and genial, two qualities Lalo always appreciates, but typically, he bends to no one, no matter how charming their Southern accent is or how sharply they're dressed.

Lalo forces himself to snap out of it. "Hooo, you should've seen me before," he says, only a little absentmindedly. "Before the old guy patched me up, I was sure I was a goner." He sounds genuinely amused by this, more than upset, but there's still clearly something weighing on him. He even looks distracted as he waves a hand in the air. "Right. Infections. Got it. Any tips? You look like an educated man. I'm sure I can trust your judgment."

Lalo tries to remember what they'd been talking about before. How this conversation started. For a brief moment he's forgotten about Chloe. Also unlike him; he's a dog with a bone, usually, when he has his mind set on a thing or a person.

cw: vampire thirst

[flambeaux]

There are moments when Louis acts as the predator observing prey, as though there is no other outcome beyond either feeding off him or sparing him, always within that binary of violence and mercy. And then there are moments when Louis seems adverse, disgusted, or guilty about this. Either way, he deals death quickly. The torture remains metaphorical and only for himself.

Lalo takes comfort in talking about his battle scars. He survived, so it's something to laugh at. Louis can see the flood of his fear ebb away slightly. He doesn't need vampire senses to know it. It's not fear exactly that piques Louis's interest, but the results of it: the sweat, the hunger, the chase, the taste of skin against his mouth before he breaks it--

He waves a hand dismissively. "I'm educated, but I'm told I'm several decades out of date. I just read the instructions on the first aid kits I found. Rubbin' alcohol, ointment, change bandages as frequently as the wound will allow. The worst is over for you, at least."

He forces himself to look at him again, and the little friendly smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"I wouldn't tangle with Miss Chloe." Short and succinct. No Mr. Salamanca this or that. "Even outside of your present... condition."

[salamanca]

Lalo is about to say something else when Louis's smile stops him cold. It's not the first time that Lalo has witnessed someone smiling like that. The cartel is full of men with small smiles that don't reach their eyes. But something about makes Lalo feel sick again, his relaxation starting to ebb away get as quickly as it had come.

Something in the back of his mind whispers that he should listen to Louis, and Lalo immediately resents the voice's good sense. He can't bring himself to outright submit so easily, even when he knows it might be the smart thing to do on paper.

Don't mess with Chloe, huh?

"Oh?" Lalo asks coolly, as dispassionately as he can muster. "Why's that, if I may ask?"

cw: vampires eat humans and are weird about it

[flambeaux]

Chloe has the confidence of someone who's seen adventure, and Louis believes she comports herself capably in all ways. (Louis has never seen her recklessness in action.) Louis shouldn't just outright tell a man that he truly thinks Chloe could mess him up good. Men start fights over less.

"This here's a quiet town. You start beef with someone that clever, it's goin' make noise. Things get messy. You strike me as a smart man. If she's as much trouble as you say, then let it alone. And get better locks."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward to briefly stretch his smile with a flash of real humor. In purely selfish terms, Louis depends on the people in town to live. He can't survive on his skills alone, so he must trade what he can. And, should things take a turn for the very worst, humans are emergency rations.

In terms of his moral aesthetics, he just doesn't like violence. He never took to it the way Lestat and Claudia did. He's too human, and other vampires would see that as a flaw, a weakness. Louis constantly exists in the turmoil of these conflicting natures.

[salamanca]

Lalo isn't the kind of pathetic manchild who gets pissy and start fights because someone offers him advice about who not to mess with. Oh, sure, he's not necessarily going to listen, but his ego just isn't fragile that way. He's a completely different type of manchild whose ego is fragile in completely different but equally annoying way.

He's also not worried about Chloe. His read on her, he thinks, is pretty solid. Unlike Louis, he's got good reason to have pegged her as reckless, and confidence means nothing to Lalo. Lots of people are confident. It's necessary to get anywhere in life, especially if you're gonna be a criminal.

Doesn't mean they're a match for him.

No, it's the atmosphere between them, and the tiny quirk of Louis's smile, that sets Lalo on edge, far more than Louis's actual words. But that's part of the game. Saying what you need to without saying it; letting your body language and the atmosphere you create do the talking for you. Lalo, of all people, understands why they can't say these kinds of things blatantly. Why they have to talk around what they really mean.

"I'm flattered to hear you think I'm smart," Lalo responds. "That's kind of you." He looks Louis up and down, determined to hold his ground despite the growing knot in his stomach. It had dissipated when Louis looked like he was going to be ill, but now it's slowly coming back.

"Could say the same about you, you know. Miss Chloe is lucky to have such a protective friend. Clever or not, she needs it. You should probably talk to her too. For her own good. Even if I 'let it alone,' like you want" - and Lalo is not going to promise that he will - "she's bound to get somebody else on her tail if she doesn't learn to keep her hands to herself. You can trust me on that."

[flambeaux]

His skin crawls when Lalo looks him over, for similar reasons Lalo's stomach twists. He feels seen. But you couldn't look weak on Liberty Street. Louis allows himself a slightly larger intake of breath, which just makes him look like a large cat or snake coiling to spring while preserving a predator's stillness. He is sitting rather still, lacking the easy human movements of earlier.

Someone else, someone like Lalo. Well.

"She ain't my friend," Louis reiterates softly, half-captivated by the atmosphere himself. "I meant what I said, and it's a virtue for a man to speak simply," says the man who doesn't and who recognizes the absence of Lalo's agreement to keep the peace.

He rests a few fingers just barely at the edge of Lalo's bandages, unsettling because it's hardly a touch that could become a touch. His nails shine like glass.

"Rest up, Mr. Salamanca. Be a shame if you came down with somethin'."

Then he's up in one smooth motion, brushing down his lapels even though they don't need it and buttoning his suit jacket in practiced but perfectly ordinary motions.

"I'm openin' up the General Store soon," he says more briskly. "Come 'round sometime."

[salamanca]

It's equal parts shock and rage that course through Lalo when Louis lets his fingers just barely kiss the edge of Lalo's bandages. Who the hell are you? he thinks, and finds no answer. Everything about Louis is uncanny; Lalo feels like he should be able to intuit more about him, but can't. He can't figure Louis out.

It makes Lalo angry, but it fascinates him too. Makes him even more curious. Why does he care so much about Chloe if she's 'not his friend'?

Louis is up quicker than Lalo had anticipated, although it's hard to say if that's because of Louis's natural quickness or because Lalo is still in a state of relative stupor.

But all Lalo says is, "Sounds great! I'll see you soon."

And he smiles back. Cordially. Of course.

"It was lovely to meet you, Louis. I hope we cross paths again someday. When I'm feeling better, of course."

And with that, a wink.