the conduit and the half demon

who: caleb and porter
where: the hall
when: afternoon

Say what you will about the change in location, but to Porter? It was an improvement. Sure, they were more exposed here than the chapel, especially if the idea of holy ground being sacrosanct was true, but Medea seemed better already. Porter had left her and Isabelle behind the only door that led clearly to the kitchen, hoping Medea could manage a bit of sleep. She seemed better already, now he just needed to make sure she lived so she could appreciate it.

He'd stepped out from the kitchen a bit earlier, hearing faint sounds of commotion from inside the chapel, but Porter couldn't go and investigate. There was no way he'd leave the girls to deal with these things. But in the name of letting them both rest, he'd been out in the hall ever since, leaning one shoulder on the wall next to the kitchen's door and warily watching the hallway run in both directions. Trouble or help, he'd spot either one coming their way.

Caleb was heading back around again, and he'd stopped once more, and grabbed a few blankets and some pillows to bring to the kitchen crew. Fuck all else was going on, so he wanted again, to be useful. Or maybe he was just bored, and it seemed like the thing to do. He saw the kid out front, Porter? Maybe. He'd met him once before. Paranoid fucker. So, when he turned the corner and was coming up on the guy, he made sure to step a little more loudly, just so he didn't startle him. Startling people who were prepared to fight demons or whatever wasn't ever the wisest of plans.

Even the first step to register had made Porter's nerves spike sharply, getting a hand half-raised in Caleb's direction before recognition kicked in. The guy who'd thought he was crazy or something, great. Maybe seeing these monsters would make him seem a bit less so, even if it was a totally different sort of situation to consider. "Guessing it's all quiet out there?" he called Caleb's way as softly as he could manage, stepping away from the wall where he'd been leaning and stretching slowly.

"Something like that." Caleb said. Well. The corpses weren't making a lot of noise, anyways. They were just messing up the halls. He walked up and held out the blankets and such. "Brought these for you lot." he offered, making it sound like it wasn't a big deal. To him, it wasn't, he guessed. Now if anyone else wanted to go wandering the halls, he'd call them fucking stupid, but he at least knew it wasn't intelligent of him. He just also knew shit wasn't going to get itself. "Can I grab some food for the people in the chapel in a bit?" he asked.

"Totally," Porter said, nodding his agreement, "I'm not even a little hungry, you know? And Medea and her sister are resting up." Porter hoped that some part of whatever food they had on hand would be helpful to the girls, he doubted that he'd want any of it himself. His appetite was already nearly nonexistant, and the nightmare they were all in had quashed even the scraps that were normally there. "And thanks, man," he went on, taking the blankets, "I needed to get them out of there. Something in there was hitting my girlfriend's allergies or something, I'm not even sure. But... she seems better."

"Does she." Caleb said, not surprised. He paused, just eyeing Porter for a moment, considering. "Thought at all about that?" he asked, wondering if the guy had even really put his mind towards it or if he was a) busy with the current crisis and hadn't, or b) was ignoring the shit out of it because the implications weren't pretty. Could be either, he supposed.

"About what? Her getting sick?" Porter asked dubiously, brow lining in consternation. He truthfully hadn't given it much thought; Medea's wellbeing and their collective survival had taken precedence with him. Part of his thought process was devoted to her, another part to a constant awareness of his own energy levels just in case it came to fighting back. Porter needed to know just how much strength he could call on, and where the lines would be if they all needed to run. "What about it? This place is pretty derelict, you know? We're lucky we didn't all catch whatever was hitting her."

Caleb shook his head. "It's not that bad. There aren't rooms crumbling down or anything." he said. "No, she took ill when she got to the church. Same thing with her sister." he said. "And you said they're getting better now? You know why people are in the chapel, right?" he asked. And for once his tone wasn't even condescending. He wasn't actively trying to be harsh, either.

The tone didn't matter, the implications of Caleb's words did. They weren't lost on Porter either, they were just the absolute last thing he wanted to consider right now. "Yeah, I know," he muttered, looking down at his feet as his jaw tensed up. Could it be? Was the beautiful, gentle girl he'd saved something else entirely? Porter refused to believe it, shaking his head at the very idea before glancing back up at Caleb. "But, I mean... those things out there? They're demons. Medea is a pretty far shot from that, same with her sister."

Caleb nodded. "Oh, they are." he agreed. Like he was. Although with himself in particular, he wouldn't call himself a 'pretty far shot'. He wasn't a demon, never would be, would never be capable of the kind of shit he'd seen demons do, but still. He considered himself a fairly far shot from humanity too. Not that humans were some shining bright point of purity in the universe. "Just something to consider. I wouldn't necessarily trust them if I were you." Like he'd flat out told Peyton back in the day that one could not trust half-demons. The priority structure was just different. Relying on it not to be, that was where things got fucked up fast.

It was a little late for that to really be an option. Porter had exposed his secrets, and now all he could do was hope that he'd trusted right. "...you left too," he pointed out after a quiet, sullen moment, "And you're not really keeping an eye on people. So what's up with that?" There was an edge of challenge in his voice with the question, and while Porter wasn't the type to push? Caleb had just insinuated some fairly worrying things, leaving Porter to either question where his faith was, or to question the guy who would make him doubt it.

"I'm not?" he asked, pointedly looking at the supplies he'd gone to get for the group. "I brought some for the other group too. And now I'm on a food run." he pointed out. "What exactly constitutes 'looking out' for people if that doesn't?" he asked, because really, he was. Or he was trying, anyhow. "I've also been looking around, trying to see if we've got any more surprises. which so far, we don't, but whatever."

Touche'. Leave it to the first person Porter would decide to challenge, even with fairly tame words, to put him right back in his place. "Sorry," he muttered, looking sheepish and self-consciously squeezing the bedding Caleb had given to him, "Just... what you're saying? What does it mean?" Aside from his studies into what he was, Porter was blind to the details of the world he lived in. But he'd figured out enough, at least, to guess that Caleb meant Medea and Isabelle were 'other' in one way or another. "I mean, they're not demons, right? They'd look like those things if they were, right?"

Caleb shrugged. "Maybe nothing. I'm just telling you to watch your back. That's all. No, they're not demons. No demon I've heard of would even be able to stand that place as long as they did." he said, honestly. And hell, he was half. Fully half. And he'd done better than them, but still. "But no on that. No, they wouldn't look like those things. Not necessarily. Demons...there are different kinds. These fuckers are just one kind."

It was like discovering non-mutant superheroes, except potentially lethal. Porter realized just how much research he needed to do, and even if he knew it was pointless right now? He wanted his internet back in that moment. "So," he said after a quiet moment, "These ones in here? Whatever kind they are, how do we stop them?" He was hoping his energy blasts would hurt them, but who knew? And asking about the present threat, sickening as it was, was still better than thinking on Caleb's advice. Even if it was perfectly valid, the last thing Porter wanted right now was doubt of any kind.

Blood magic, a whole lot of stabbing, and a brother around who can watch your back. Caleb thought. Which he really didn't have. Really, right around now, Math would have been a really really good person to have around. "Hit it with everything we've got. Hope there aren't more right on the tails of that and they aren't doing coordinated attacks." he answered. "Not give them free targets. Make sure that everyone who can be protected in the chapel is. Harkin put a spell on this door, too." he said, nodding towards the kitchen door. "A protection spell or whatever. I'd say keep the girls in there, if you're worried about them. Leaving there and not going to the chapel would just be bad."

Porter nodded with the advice, deciding that even if he didn't know what would motivate Caleb to strike out on his own, he couldn't trust the guy implicitly either. The first time they'd talked, Caleb had acted like Porter was crazy for his concerns, and now he was the one dishing out advice on wariness? "A protection spell?" he asked, balking just slightly, "Hell... can't be much weirder than anything else. Just make sure you get behind it if those things come after us, okay?" Porter wouldn't be too far behind him, but for all he knew? He and Kaysen were the only ones literally empowered to hit back, and she was safe inside the chapel.

"That wasn't my plan, really." Caleb admitted. "I've got a little bit of my own firepower. Figured I might as well hit with what I have, instead of hide. But then again, I've been in a situation like this before." Or, not exactly like this. Though he did quite vividly remember being in the middle of a field with a whole shit load of fiends rushing him. And those fuckers just didn't want to die. He was grateful they weren't up against anything like them. "I'd suggest you get behind it though."

Shaking his head slightly, Porter leaned back into the wall as he chewed his lip in anxiousness for a second. "Not really my plan either. I... if they come for us? I need to make sure people are clear of me. Sometimes my aim sucks," he offered, opting to be as vague as Caleb. He hadn't seen the guy pull a gun like Dean, so what would Caleb mean by firepower? Porter wasn't about to discard any idea for being too outlandish, not when they were hiding from demons and relying on spells. "Plus, no offense dude? But I doubt any of us should be trying to solo here, unless you're really from Krypton or something."

"Not so much." Caleb said to the Krypton thing. "But okay, your aim sucks. What aim?" he asked, since he also hadn't seen anyone else with a gun. Not that he thought the school had been overly cautious with weapons or anything, but Porter was playing sentry at the moment, so if he did have a gun, he was guessing that he'd have that out. So, if he did need to be out of the way for something, he wanted to know what he needed to be out of the way of.

"Okay..." Porter murmured, thinking of how to explain. He didn't like the phrase 'psychic vampire', didn't like mentioning anything about what his energy projection actually was or where it came from, which made it trickier. "Thom has spells? That guy Dean knows some girl who can teleport or something? I... kinda have superpowers," he said, shoulders shrugging, "And I know it sounds retarded to say like that? It's like, there's this energy I can grab, and I can blast shit with it. It stopped a werewolf once, it might be enough here too." He wasn't about to waste any on a demonstration, either, instead just hoping that all of this was enough to give Caleb room to believe him.

She can't teleport. Also, she's dead. But you don't seem to know that, and I sure as fuck aren't dropping that bomb. Caleb thought, but listened. He also tried really hard not to scoff at the word 'superpowers'. He did smirk faintly at it though. For fucks sake... Well at least he knew it was stupid to call it that. He even called himself on it, which in Caleb's book, gave Porter a point or two. "Energy you can grab. Like...from where? Electricity? The air? What's your source?" he asked, thinking if the kid stopped a werewolf, he could be useful. Those things...weren't easy to take down.

If there was ever a question Porter hated trying to answer, it was that one. He didn't think he'd ever come to terms with his parasitic nature, all he had to do was recall the dead deer, the werewolf changing shapes, the child he'd attacked. He was going to be forever riding the line between hero and monster. "I don't exactly have a single source?" Porter explained, voice lowering in the hope that no one in the kitchen was listening in, "But... it has to come from something living. And I swear I don't just hurt people to get it or anything, I'm not like these things." And what he said next? Well, they were words Porter had fantasised over for years, had literally dreamed about, but they weren't much fun right now. "I'm a conduit."

Caleb let that sink in. He could get the concept, but had to admit he'd had no idea anything like that was out there. Seemed kind of vampiric without the unnecessary inherent weirdness of needing essential body fluids. And, from what Porter rushed to assure him, he assessed it could hurt people. That there was a choice in there, likely, since he made sure to say he wasn't like the demons they were being hunted by. "A conduit. So you...channel." he said, hoping that landed the concept correctly.

"Like a leech with a conscience," Porter muttered, feeling exposed after his confession. It wasn't like he could've denied it, though. THe moment he'd admitted to having an ability at all, he was stuck on this road. "I try to channel from animals, mostly? Things like the werewolf, when I can too. It doesn't seem so wrong when I'm stopping something that wants to hurt people I care about, you know?" he asked as his fingers fidgeted with the blankets. "What about you, though? You, um, you mentioned firepower?"

Caleb actually had a moment where he kind of felt bad for the kid. It was really clear he was uncomfortable, and had issues and shit, and that was something Caleb could relate to, at least on some level. So, when he changed the subject, he let it ride. Nodding, he shrugged one shoulder. "Well, you know there's magic now, if you didn't before." he said, since he'd mentioned the spell on the door. "...the kind I do is a little more...destructive." he said. "...to put it mildly." Since really, if the guy was going to be anywhere nearby when Caleb did have to do something, he should probably at least have a little fair warning.

More Hellstrom than Dr. Strange, Porter thought, his expression a mixture of envy and disbelief as he looked to Caleb. "You work magic?" he echoed, "Like... fire and brimstone or something? How? Where'd you learn to do it?" Was it an innate ability like Porter's? And if not, was there maybe a glimmer of a chance that either Thom or Caleb's particular skills might hold an answer to break his dependency?

"Not fire and brimstone." Caleb corrected. He paused a second, then figured if anything happened, Porter would see anyhow. "Blood, actually. And I learned it back home. New Orleans, to be specific. It's not pretty and if you're in the way it'll probably kill you, and if it doesn't, you're going to wish it had, so...that whole bit where you said to stay out of your way? Keep back from mine, too, I can direct it, but only in a relative sort of way. I'll try to keep it out of your way though." he said, knowing he really would. Plus, he wasn't sure he wanted to do much with it in the first place because it would destroy parts of the building, he was sure. And letting the storm in places wasn't going to be helpful.

Porter smiled faintly, somehow managing to have room in his head for daydreams of splash-panels and action sequences. They were far less alluring, given the very real carnage he'd seen, but they were still there. "So... if we get into a pinch, we go back to back," he confirmed with a grin, "And mine sounds a little more specific, so... I'll cover you, if you need it. But don't expect me to hide, okay? They're depending on me." He nodded to the kitchen door to clarify who 'they' were, relaxing a bit more with the knowledge that was definitely not the only strange one here. "And, uh, blood? Is that like voodoo or something? Comics and movies never really brought it up that I saw."

"Definitely not voodoo." Caleb said, internally twitching there. Because yeah. No. No and no. He didn't like voodoo. He was pretty sure voodoo had fucked him over at some point. Like with Erzulie. That shit was just bad. "No, it's just...hard to describe I guess. But last time I was up against one of these things when I hit it with what I've got, it lost limbs." he said, hoping that put it in perspective. "It sort of goes through anything."

"Well... shit," Porter murmured, awed just by Caleb's description of the potential, "Honestly, I hope I don't have to see it. Or show you mine, for that matter." Not that he thought the odds there were very good? But Porter needed as many things to hope for as possible. A bloodless rescue, for starters. Caleb being wrong about Medea and Isabelle would be nice, too. "So, um, maybe I don't need to ask? But if we get out of here, you're gonna keep all of that quiet, right?" That was a more logical hope to have; if Caleb had powers of his own, he couldn't just blab about Porter's without risking exposure. Maybe it'd be a system of mutual trust. Maybe we'll form a team.

"So long as you know how to keep your mouth shut about oh...everything you know about anyone here." Caleb said. "The less anyone knows the better, and that kind of thing could be very very fucking bad. So, you keep everyone else's secrets, they'll keep yours." he said. He paused, then decided to put in the true significance in sharp perspective. "It's suicidal not to. People'll get killed."

Porter nodded hurriedly in confirmation, his gut churning with anxiety. Were they going to survive this? He had to hope so. But if they did, and if Caleb was right about there being more to the twins, there were now a lot of secrets to keep. "I'm not saying shit," he told Caleb, "I think I can guess what people might think if they knew about me, what some people might do. And I'm just a parasite... I heard what everyone was saying about that girl with Dean. So hell, my lips are sealed."

"That girl with Dean is fine, and don't you forget it." Caleb said, wanting to take the opportunity to impress that. "But forget you saw her. Forget her name. Because trust me, if there's badness that could rain down on our heads? It'd be a hell of a lot worse for her." Because she would survive it. she'd come back. And they people would have to kill her again. And again. And he could see how that would go. Not to mention they'd have to go through Dean, and they would. Sure, he was good and he'd take probably a good lot of people down first, but there was always someone better. he didn't want that for either of them. "And if you hear anyone talking about her...shut them up."

Most of that? Was fine. Porter wouldn't literally forget, of course, but he knew all about keeping big secrets. He'd been handling his own for years now, one more about a girl he didn't even know wouldn't hurt. But that last bit screwed his face up in surprise, making Porter narrow his eyes at Caleb. "Shut them up? Dude. I'm not an imposing guy, you know? Anyone who decides they want to freak out? Well, if I know them I can talk to them, but I can't force someone I don't know."

"No one said anything about being imposing or anything. If talking's what you do? Talk fast." Caleb said. He knew not everyone could pull off anything intimidating. Hell, his biggest fallback? Was that he didn't look the part. He didn't look like he could deal out damage that dropped demons. He didn't look like he could kick anyone's ass if he had to. He just could. And sometimes, if he was really thinking about it, there was the force of personality. He had to play the part if he opened his mouth and wanted to get by on unassuming. Still, though.

"Yeah, I..." Porter trailed off, not even sure what he could say to all of that. He wasn't a talker, most people made him feel awkward and self-aware. But he'd have to figure out something, especially with the vague idea that there was plenty more that he still didn't know. "Look, I, um... I know this is a fucked up situation? But after this, wherever we end up, I'll keep the secret. We... I know it sounds lame, but we need to stick together to get through all of this." Which came back to his desire for some kind of team, but that really sounded lame. "C'mon, let's round up some food, you can get back to things."

Caleb nodded, accepting that. Sure. In some ways, the kid was right, after all. So...yeah. He'd get food, bring it back to the chapel and try like hell to get a glimpse of Nic to be sure she was alright, hope what he said hit home and stuck with this guy, and hopefully they wouldn't all die. Yep. He hated his life sometimes.