I worked. The staff would sometimes go out for drinks after work. I didn't really join them much. Maybe a few times. It's awkward having your boss out with you, isn't it?
You have no idea how to control yourself in a city full of people who have likely all had some kind of supernatural occurrence in their lives. And it's made worse because we're all stuck here together, and therefore our experiences are overlapping. People are exposed to the horrific and supernatural daily here.
You spent your time holed up in the Institute, never leaving, feeding off of written Statements or of people who came in, already weeded out. When you died, Statements became your food, as Vitae became mine. But I had to learn to control myself because food walks by me daily. You didn't have that experience. You totally went off the deep end the moment you were allowed to. Even before Hell, you told me you were binging Statements and got a headache once.
You need to learn control, like I did. Your food walks beside you daily.
By being scared shitless, for one. If we feed off of just anyone, we'll be caught. Masquerade violation. Death. And if we feed off of a single person too much, they die. The more we kill innocents, the more we lose our Humanity. Our morality. And when we do that, we eventually succumb to the Beast and become mindless. All we want is blood and death. We have consequences.
Your consequences aren't a deterrent to you because you're set on rolling towards some kind of death or weird self-destruction. When something happens, you feel the need to fix it by throwing yourself at the problem and possibly dying. Your solution to this is hurting yourself.
You said something like, "if anyone has to pay the price it should be me." And when we agreed we'd talk together with her, you ran ahead and told her that if anyone should die, it should be you. That is a thing you did, Jon. I was there for it.
Technically, it was my fault for even telling you. But the point is that you totally were going to throw yourself on the sword for it. I didn't ask you to do that. I even told you, specifically, NOT to do that.
Ava, you have a chance to stay... you. Normal. Close to human. I don't think that's going to happen for me. And it Martin doesn't get pulled back from the edge soon, it's not going to happen for him, either. We should focus on helping him, honestly.
You're wrong. You're absolutely wrong on all of those counts.
[ But that's probably her wishful thinking. She doesn't want to give up on Jon. ]
I'm going to help him. But I'm going to keep helping you, too. You can't stop me. When the time comes, we'll deal with what we have to. Don't think that I'm exempt from this.
I'm en route to drop off a note under his door. Why don't you ask him if he'd like to meet with me? I'm not going to impose. If he'd rather text or call, that's fine. If he doesn't want to meet at all, that's fine too.
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You sound like a new vampire.
Or a Thin Blood.
[ ...Wait. Wait, hold on. She might be on to something. ]
When you were back home, what did you do most of the time?
Did you ever go out?
Did you ever hang out with anyone that wasn't archival staff?
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The staff would sometimes go out for drinks after work.
I didn't really join them much.
Maybe a few times.
It's awkward having your boss out with you, isn't it?
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Just leave the Institute and go home?
Or go shopping?
After the Unknowing, I mean.
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There were three of them there.
If that's what you're asking.
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You have no idea how to control yourself in a city full of people who have likely all had some kind of supernatural occurrence in their lives.
And it's made worse because we're all stuck here together, and therefore our experiences are overlapping.
People are exposed to the horrific and supernatural daily here.
You spent your time holed up in the Institute, never leaving, feeding off of written Statements or of people who came in, already weeded out.
When you died, Statements became your food, as Vitae became mine.
But I had to learn to control myself because food walks by me daily.
You didn't have that experience.
You totally went off the deep end the moment you were allowed to.
Even before Hell, you told me you were binging Statements and got a headache once.
You need to learn control, like I did.
Your food walks beside you daily.
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That's what the knife is for.
How did you learn control?
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If we feed off of just anyone, we'll be caught. Masquerade violation. Death.
And if we feed off of a single person too much, they die.
The more we kill innocents, the more we lose our Humanity.
Our morality.
And when we do that, we eventually succumb to the Beast and become mindless.
All we want is blood and death.
We have consequences.
Your consequences aren't a deterrent to you because you're set on rolling towards some kind of death or weird self-destruction.
When something happens, you feel the need to fix it by throwing yourself at the problem and possibly dying.
Your solution to this is hurting yourself.
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Then why were you tripping over yourself to try to sacrifice yourself to Anya?
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I haven't tried to sacrifice myself to her.
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And when we agreed we'd talk together with her, you ran ahead and told her that if anyone should die, it should be you.
That is a thing you did, Jon.
I was there for it.
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That was different.
It was my fault.
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But the point is that you totally were going to throw yourself on the sword for it.
I didn't ask you to do that.
I even told you, specifically, NOT to do that.
That's my point.
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Ava, you have a chance to stay... you.
Normal.
Close to human.
I don't think that's going to happen for me.
And it Martin doesn't get pulled back from the edge soon, it's not going to happen for him, either.
We should focus on helping him, honestly.
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You're absolutely wrong on all of those counts.
[ But that's probably her wishful thinking. She doesn't want to give up on Jon. ]
I'm going to help him.
But I'm going to keep helping you, too.
You can't stop me.
When the time comes, we'll deal with what we have to.
Don't think that I'm exempt from this.
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All right.
You help Martin.
And me, I suppose.
I'll help the both of you.
Martin can help... himself, hopefully.
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I'll let you know how the meeting goes.
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He contacted me.
We're talking now.
Do you want me to tell him to meet you somewhere?
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Why don't you ask him if he'd like to meet with me?
I'm not going to impose.
If he'd rather text or call, that's fine.
If he doesn't want to meet at all, that's fine too.
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I'll let him know.
Thank you, Ava.
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Take care, Jon.
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He's not in the public housing.
He's just wandering around.
Trying not to bother people.
[Because of course he is. The frustration likely bleeds through the text.]
He said to go somewhere quiet, and he should be able to find you.
I suggested the park in the Down.
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If that's not quiet enough, there's a warehouse.
My warehouse.
I can pass you the address.
[ It occurs to her, right then and there, that she'd never given out the address to that place to anyone. Not Jon, not Hawke. ]
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You have a warehouse.
Is that where you went after the trackers?
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I was living in the basement.
I told you that.
[ When she'd brought the cat. ]
It's not 'mine', it's just not in use.
I still use the basement but not to sleep anymore.
[ She slides the address over. It's in a destitute part of the Down and well off the beaten path. ]
It says Cooper & Cooper Ltd. outside.
The owners are dead and have been for a couple of years.
Older guys. Contracted.
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