Interview With The Vampire 1.04

grateful it were just he and sonic again. truthfully, he had only really come to this event because it was sonic that had asked him to. he never would've set foot at one of these shindigs, otherwise.

at sonic's laugh, julius scoffs a breath, "for someone panicked, you certainly kept your cool." naturally, julius thought, and based on sonic's little smirk he seemed to agree.

"yea, well, y'made it pretty easy. nice italian by the way."

"mmn," he hummed, not sure how to respond to that genuine compliment. his scalp itched but he couldn't do anything about that due to this damned wig. "why were you so insistent on dragging me here." he can't help the bluntness to his tone, all of that stimuli from the sounds, smells, let alone the massive crowd, was beginning to irk him more and more as the seconds passed.

amy's eyes were practically sparkling as she listened to ian & sonic's exchange, her attentions rapt on sonic in particular, "wow sonic, you sounded so good!" at that, sonic grinned over at her and flashed a thumbs up, "oh gosh, let's see if i remember any words..." turning to face ian, she smiled up at him and spoke, her cadence slowing down and sounding a tad broken up. "il tuo cappello è bello."

"Oh, grazie."

"that in mind, i'm gonna take ian to grab some grub." sonic didn't want make julius feel more pressured, and that meant getting him away from the trio. especially tails, if anyone of them might start pulling the ruse apart it'd be his little buddy. planning to meet up later, sonic 'ian' and the others all went their separate ways.

it wasn't until they were fully out of earshot and eyesight that sonic started speaking to julius normally again, "whew, i panicked there for a second!" he lets out a softer laugh, "i was torn between italian or russian, but i thought that italian would be the safer bet!"

u ever talk w/ someone again & just feel happy?

me rn.

night fucking made.

there's a little gasp, he sounds and looks genuinely touched by the gesture. "oh you shouldn't have!" he's lifting the heart out of that box, not caring about the blood staining his gloves, "this brings back memories~," & just like last time, julius makes direct eye contact with imad and chomps into that heart, tearing into it and then chewing a tad before swallowing,

"even better than it was last time."

💌 watch it be a heart, again ;P

send 💌 for a valentine’s day gift from my muse to yours!

indeed it is, only this time the heart is in a decorative box with black wrapping paper and a red bow to complete it. he remembered very well how julius reacted last time to this sort of gift, and was a bit curious to see if that reaction would be the same or differ.

"for you, my sweet."

his jaw clenched, however subtly. that irritation grew at how, placid stone was being. resigned. fight for another version of himself, supposedly, but not him, hm? tch. whatever. he focused, feeling that sensation and sensing that chaos energy from stone's world. very briefly, like a flickering tether that julius grabbed onto. bolstered by stone remembering his world & julius making physical contact.

his eyes glowed, shimmering before stone would blink, and be back in his own world.

julius' hand lingered there, poised, not moving as though still having his hand on stone's chest. then his arm slacked, and he exhaled deeply while looking skyward. that same gloved hand moved, to rub at his eyes underneath his sunglasses, before he turned and tried to resume what he was doing.

stone felt... angry? at being so easily dismissed, which was a bit strange considering he was used to it from his doctor and never had it bothered him until now. why did it bother him so much? more importantly, how could this man send him back?

he looks down at the hand splayed on his chest, then looks back up into the lenses of the man's sunglasses, bending a bit backwards when once again they were in close proximity.

knowing he'd get nowhere he ultimately resigns himself with a sigh, indeed closing his eyes and focusing on the earth he was from. oh well. just because it didn't work this time doesn't mean the next time wouldn't work.

after all, he'd waited almost half a decade to get here... what's another year or more, really?

⸻ he had nothing left, now. what little that truly mattered to him, naught but ash. not even a body he could hold. to mourn. to apologize. to possibly cradle. bootfalls rushing toward his location, rounding that corner and stopping once they saw the carnage and destruction. his chaos energy so out of control, rising and peaking and drenching the very air in this corridor that it caused the emergency lights themselves to short-circuit. washing julius in darkness, save for his red irises. his red irises were visible in that darkness, glowing brightly.

sound of a gunshot, muzzle flash as those G.U.N soldiers opened fire on him. the bullets impacted his skin, causing him to jerk slightly. felt them enter, blood pour, but then that healing and chaos energy made the bullets evaporate before they could exit through him. human weaponry couldn't truly harm him now. they fired at him more, their eyes terrified of how he wasn't going down to their weapons-

his eyes glowed brighter in that darkness.

silently, fueled by rage and hatred, he charged forward and blinked from existence before reappearing in front of one of the soldiers. using that momentum and rage to punch a hole through the man's face, yanking him forward to shield from those bullets, only to toss the corpse aside. glowing in his left hand now, a mini chaos plasma attack, like a knife. he slits the other man's throat with an adeptness that should startle him but doesn't. he's calm. blood sprays forward, coating him as that body slumps.

julius stands there, staring at the wall in front of him. no satisfaction at the sight, the knowledge. there was a slight tickling of that sensation, a barely there notion of enjoyment. numbed over from the reality of his situation at present. more footfalls nearby him, he glances over at the feeling of bullets piercing his shirt and entering his skin, only to heal and fizzle away again.

slaughters his way through the soldiers that between him and his end destination. a newly pristine living quarters, assigned to one james stone. julius stood there, staring down at that dark black jacket that james often wore. sounds of distant alarms from that open door, wash of red from the corridor. a slightly quaking hand reached out, hesitated before cradling that jacket. pulls it closer, hugging it, burying his face into it, inhaling. his scent. muffled, quiet, broken sobs wet that fabric. lowers onto his knees, clinging and pulling that empty jacket closer to himself.

inhaling, a small sniffle of a noise, julius pulled that jacket away from his face. stared down at it. he stood up then, discarding his old bullet ridden one, before pulling on james' old jacket. he has to pull the sleeves off as they're too short to fit his frame properly, but he can sew on new sleeves later on. his gaze lists, noting old sunglasses on the nearby table. walks over to them and lifts them up, a thumb roaming the frame, noting that purple tint. a shaking hollow smile, julius puts those sunglasses on. hoping, at least in some way, by keeping his clothes, by wearing these sunglasses, by holding himself in a way that james may have, that james stone may yet live on.

at the very least, in spirit.

[txt:] surprised to hear what?

[txt:] erm, nothing really?

[txt:] well maybe some things.

[txt:] i don't know i've never been asked that before.

[txt]: surprised to hear that. [txt]: so what else about you is old schooled too then?

he thought that johnny looked far better than just 'fine enough' now, but julius didn't think saying that would be best at the moment. maybe another time. though at what johnny says about pompadours, julius' eyebrows lift in slight surprise, "really? er, sorry. i don't actually know what a pompadour is, hair style, wise," he wasn't exactly into the latest hairdos, never had been. mostly into fashion, but he guessed if he tried he could learn. nothing a quick read couldn't remedy.

"but i'll take your word for it."

then johnny's mentioning that he can show him around, nothing better to do. at being told he seemed like he made better company, julius' feels a blush warm at his face. at being told to lead the way - johnny was calling him by another name again. that confused him.

"i'll do that...." he motions for johnny to follow, and starts walking down the hall. speaks to johnny as they go, "i'm wondering, er, why do you keep calling me by different 'r' names? is robotnik difficult for you to pronounce?"

Awww, man. Of course this place expects him to be all formal-like about everything, too. Johnny was far from the formal type—he could hardly pull it together even if he tried. He felt like a fish out of water around here.

He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "Ah, right... Just Bravo, then. Heh... But I'm tellin' you, man—if you saw my hair then, you'd probably think I look a whole lot better than just fine enough. I had a big ol' pompadour that could make any lady swoon in two seconds flat!"

Okay, yeah, that was a major exaggeration, but Robotnik didn't need to know that. Nonetheless, the mention of receiving a tour of the base piqued his interest, at least a little. After all, if he's going to be staying here for a while, he might as well get familiar with it, he reckons.

"Sure, yeah! I ain't got nothin' better to do right now, anyway—n' you seem like you make better company than all them big boss guys who've been screamin' in my face all day, heh. Lead the way, Robertson!"

"AU CONTRAIRE, my spandex wearing friend," the words are as tight and as mockery filled as he could make them. because julius believed not a word of what had been said to him just then. "it's entirely of my concern." he had made that choice. deliberately. which is to say nothing of why he had, wouldn't divulge that.

at the threatened quieter words, julius scoffs. "what you want and what you need are entirely separate things. you need air to breathe, so you take in air. why strangle yourself from what you need by tamping it down. to whose benefit."

@drrobctnik asked; "There's nothing wrong with what you are. It's in your bones. Don't you want to make them suffer?"

embracing the monster prompts

Experience concludes that the other's words were deliberately incendiary, were intended to breach the unreadable armour he habitually wore as naturally as his own skin. A carefully placed strike, calculated to find the fractures beneath his restraint, that should be--

Dismissed. As was his go-to response, reached for whenever he heard rehashes of the same arguments, broached by those who believed taking aim at his very nature, and what he stood for, to be a good idea. Fully expectant that he was steps removed from sliding towards darker notions, that better aligned with the monster that some of his enemies perceived him to be.

What a farce.

Thoroughly unamused by this ploy, Miguel's jaw locked beneath the navy-blue cover of his mask in response. With patience tested, he made an effort to keep his tall posture carefully composed, disallowing so much as a flick of emotion to assert itself. Or betray the thoughts curling at the edges of his mind, following such an opening shot aimed at his very character. What exactly resided in his mutated bones?

Something not previously known to science, for a start, but that was only the tip of a very long list of findings that he had spent years compiling about himself, experiencing compulsions, emotions, even wants, in ways that the stranger before him could only theorise about. The strength, the hunger, the violent instinct, buried under careful control; Miguel knew exactly what he was capable of, was all too aware of how easy it would be to tear through the ones deserving of his wrath.

But easy wasn't the same as right.

Irked by the notions proposed, his fingers twitched once by his side, before stilling. "What I am," comes his announcement, delivered in an even tone, devoid of any material that could be hijacked and twisted into a sign of agreement, "is none of your concern." There's a need to add more, adamant to make clear his stance before more attempts are made to demonise himself. It takes a beat, as well as a slow inhale, before he allows the tension perpetuated a chance to settle, voice shifting gears to acquire a quieter level, wreathed with threat; "And neither is what I want."

obviously some of these inspire more than others, but they're all facets i try and keep in mind to some degree whenever i write for julius. if i feel up to it i may elaborate more on why these characters specifically inspire my portrayal of julius. it's hard to get my thoughts together to properly explain stuff like that in depth tho because i always worry i'm not expressing myself well enough.