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Tango didn't know how to feel about how he looked, now.
He tried to tell himself it didn't matter. There weren't any mirrors anywhere near his base, considering they would be useless, as he could not see his reflection. But... well....
He'd have to put some up in th Greywick village eventually. Because it made sense if they had some, if only to clock the—the threats that were surrounding them. Or, well, at least, that was his excuse about dwelling on it.
Not like it was anything more than garbage. Because he knew exactly how he looked like. He knew exactly how this new world had taken his desire to make a game for his friends and changed him. Just as it'd done many times before. Just like back when he was the dungeon master.
But—at least—then, it had been... different. He'd still been himself, in a way. Sure, he'd been more well adjusted to the cold than a typical blaze would—something his friends had been crying of joy over, worried sick about their blaze friend in a cold biome the whole season—but he'd also looked like himself.
He was still a blaze. If only in a different shade. His light orange skin had been swapped with light blue, and his firey hot hair had turned bright blue with purple tips, and he'd looked like a blaze. Like himself. People could recognize him.
(Jimmy had said the blue hair looked extra on him. He said he loved it. How would he feel about white?)
This was different.
This was so, so different. And—ouch!
Gosh darn it. He could even bite his lip in thought anymore—his fangs would peak out and draw blood!
And—worse of all—he wouldn't even mind.
His diet had changed the second the world had changed him. He tried to ignore it, at first. It wasn't like he was actually a vampire. These things didn't exist like other hybrids, after all—or did they?
Because then, he'd made a fatal flaw—he'd ate a simple potato—a potato, he should've been fine, he'd never shown any bad reaction towards eating one—and he'd been quickly throwing up all that he'd consumed beforehand.
(Impulse had found him deep down his whole after that incident. He'd—Tango wouldn't think about that.)
Cooked meat didn't even look good for him. No, it had to be real, raw, bloody...
"Hey, mate," a voice called out, half chuckling. His boyfriend's. "Are you alright?"
And Tango did hear what Jimmy said. In theory, he knew how to respond. But all he could hear in his mind was that it had to be alive.
It took all of Tango's self control not to simply pounce on him and devour his throat.
Though he did let himself indulge—not in that way, gods, never in that way—he approached Jimmy and immediately wrapped his arms around the other man's waist, carefully positioning his arms under the man's golden wings as to not let his claws scratch them.
Jimmy let out a little noise of surprise then immediately relaxed into the hug, resting his head atop Tango's.
It would've been calming—and, really, it should've been calming. In all of the years following up Double Life and him and Jimmy got together, it had always been calming—but Tango simply couldn't let himself fully relax in it.
When he tried to, putting his head against Jimmy's chest, his beating heart—who was already so loud before—got so immensely worse, and the warmth encapsulating him felt so intoxicating as Tango hadn't realized quite how cold he'd been, and he could feel the blood circulating deep beneath his skin...
If he could just sink his fangs in...
Nope, no, nope, no! Stop it! Stop that!
In seconds, Tango found himself harshly pulling away from his boyfriend's arms. Nope, nope, nope, not doin' that!
He'd already made that mistake before. When Impulse came to offer him help and Tango killed him. (He'd been fine afterwards, and Impulse had laughed it off saying he was happy to help—but what if it had been—what if it had been in the games—)
"Hey, hey, hey," Jimmy quickly called out as he stumbled backwards, Tango's sudden movement having pushed him back. "Dude, are you okay? This—I'm gonna be honest, Tango, you've just been really weird recently."
No shot, it wasn't as though his skin was pale and his hair was white, his eyes were red and all he wanted to was—
"Have you looked at me?" He ended up saying instead of all that, turning back around to face him, making a gesture gesturing to his entire body. "I'm a vampire, Jimmy. I'm dangerous. I could—I could—like in the games—"
"Oh, Tango..." His boyfriend said, in a voice so sad that it disappointed Tango. How in the world had he still managed to upset him?
"I—I mean," Tango tried to elaborate. "I've never seen a vampire before. And even now—I'm the only one I know! What do you mean I'm supposed to be one? I don't even know all that it entails! I could be—I am dangerous!"
And—well—maybe, in some sort of sick way, Jimmy seemed to understand. Because he didn't immediately jump at throwing love his way, just as he'd done when he'd expressed his blaze nature made him dangerous. He didn't know how to feel about it.
But Jimmy stood there, looking at him blankly. What was Tango supposed to make of that?
"I mean," Jimmy started, "you're not the only vampire I know."
What?
He'd expressed as much. "What?"
"Yeah!" Jimmy let out, excitement taking over him as he allowed himself to get closer to Tango—too close, Tango could still hear his heart thumping away, and he could just— "Scott's been a vampire before. And he's been a vampire very recently in one of those POW worlds. He's come back to Misadventures, now, and I swear I can hear him argue with this off-server lady called Apo from my garbage dump! He's not being quiet about it."
...what? came back as his sole thought. What?
It seemed as though Jimmy's veered off the topic at the end—he'd heard of Apo, founder of POW with Owen—but...
Well. It wouldn't be the first time he and Scott had something in common. With the old dungeon having reminded the emperor of his empires season one, and... well, dating Jimmy. Or, in Scott's case, used to date him.
"Do you want me to go talk to Scott?"
"I mean... yeah,"
....so off to Scott he went.