Baltimore, Late Sunday Night

[nookiepowered]

Of course after all the time she'd spent stuck in this town, it was as easy as walking through a door. Or a gate, or a trellis or whatever it was the clerk from the bakery had rushed out of while Bo was standing near the causeway trying to decide how she was going to pick a Viking. Look for one whose kids had more than the usual number of bruises?

"Where the hell did you come from," when he almost knocked her over, and "Baltimore," with a blink like she was the crazy one for asking, and here she was, in an alley behind a bar on Front Street in the middle of the night.

Of course it was as easy as walking through an alley, and this time that wasn't sarcasm; it only took a few passes through the neighborhood before there'd been a knife pricking her side and a rough hand taking its sweet damn time patting her down for a wallet in places where it was kind of unlikely to be.

Good enough, she thought, turning into the touch instead of holding still. It was a gamble with a weapon on her, but she was starving, and if she did get wounded, a feed would fix that up. "If that's what you wanted, honey, all you had to do was ask."

He was a big guy, and thank God, he didn't look tweaked, just shocked at Bo's words, or her smile, or maybe it was her actions, when she put one empty hand on his waist and raised the other to his face. "Sorry," she said, quick enough that he wouldn't have time to react, and more sincere than he probably deserved. She didn't like to kill; she just had to eat.

Then she was on him, and it was a little late for sorry.



[Off-island, NFB, etc. Up SUPER early for massive SP, for one who knows who he is, except he doesn't yet. DAMMIT.]

Comments

[chosehumanity]

As per the way his life always worked out, Mitchell had missed most of the excitement with the island moving and the new kids and all that lot. He had, in fact, portaled straight from Bristol to Baltimore with vague thoughts of shopping and/or post-grad gifts for Kate in mind.

Which roughly explained why he was here.

It didn't explain why he was going, "Oi!" rather loudly at the woman eating that man's face, but we could blame that on Mitchell being Mitchell.

[nookiepowered]

She wasn't eating his face, KENZI Mitchell. She was just eating via his face. It was still there, see?

Well, no, he probably couldn't, since Oi was approximately 98% less effective at stopping her once she started feeding than any of her own attempts to do the same thing. Which were completely ineffective.

So she'd still be over here eating that man's face.

[chosehumanity]

Right. Mitchell was moving before he could even think about it - call it months of instincts built up by dealing with vampires trying to kick the blood. Or stupid idealism. Or... something.

Mitchell was good at 'something'.

He reached for her arm, trying to yank her away from the poor sap with as much force as he could manage.

[nookiepowered]

A certain part of Bo, one that sadly didn't have much access to the rest of her once this thing got started, was grateful for the interruption. The rest of her, though, caught in the feeding cycle, was what turned on Mitchell, eyes blazing blue and hands going for his throat with as much strength as he'd used on her.

Going for his throat to push him against the wall, of course. One meal was as good as another, in this state. Better even; this one coursed with the kind of energy she needed.

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell's back crashed against the wall. His system flooded with endorphins a second later, which... sort of cushioned the blow in that he stopped caring about the blow, caught in the rush.

His eyes went black.

[nookiepowered]

The nature of her power wasn't above aesthetic appreciation even when starving; Bo growled something that might have sounded like nice before diving for his mouth.

Nobody said it was a very refined sort of aesthetic. She made up for it by exuding sexual pleasure while she sucked away energy, so, you know. You win some, you lose some.

[chosehumanity]

Definitely winning some - at least according to the blissed-out blank slate that was Mitchell's brain at the moment. But that, too, had its disadvantages...

...at least, if you were trying that trick on a vampire. Especially one of Mitchell's breed. The overload of want and pleasure triggered his instincts a few long seconds later. He gripped her jacket, shoving her back, or at least putting in a spirited effort to.

[nookiepowered]

She fought it hard for a moment, the bliss more than mutual and nothing her body wanted to give up anytime soon. Nothing like it had ever experienced, in fact, which had her shoving a foot behind his leg to keep them in place, gripping back just as hard.

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell grunted, fingers of one hand climbing up her jacket to... palm the side of her neck, too. It took an effort, and he was quickly running out of anything resembling a working mind.

He was weakening. He was running on pure endorphins. And there was someone who smelled delicious right there.

He tried to pull his head away again, but this time in hopes of burying it in her neck.

[nookiepowered]

If she'd known that was his plan, Bo might have been freaked enough to snap into something resembling sanity and back off; as it was, she just growled again -- nothing resembling nice this time or even a word -- and ...unhelpfully tilted her head up for better access. Just not the same access he had in mind.

[chosehumanity]

Effective, in a way. But Mitchell was a predator born and-- well, raised, mostly. Born might have been the wrong word for it. He was a predator, though, and the moment he could grasp even a little of his strength back, press the advantage, he did. He echoed her growl in the back of his throat, lunging forward for her throat with a start.

Fangs out, and finding her pulse-point would take no effort at all...

[nookiepowered]

Finding? Easy. And fast enough that Bo had no idea, not even an instinctive one, what was happening.

Staying attached once the concept of pain got introduced? Bit different. On another day...night... it might have just made things better, but here and now, the shock was enough to drive Bo back, pushing and stumbling away from him.

"What the hell are you?" she gasped as the blue faded from her eyes and she clasped her neck, words flooding back a little faster than her ability to make sense with them.

[chosehumanity]

One part of Mitchell desperately wanted to follow her and get more than just that hint of blood that rolled around his tongue. The rest of him wanted to recoil back against the wall and maybe stare at her for a while, aghast.

He did neither, because unfortunately no matter what he would have liked to do, his body was a little busy scrambling for breath it didn't need nor processed.

That gave him at least a few seconds to parse what she had just asked-- and then he put all that unnecessary breath to good use with a downright affronted, "What am I?! Jesus!"

[nookiepowered]

Bo on the other hand did need breath -- though she didn't need that hand clasped to her neck anymore, as the energy she'd just sucked out of him did its work and healed the the puncture in seconds.

"Well, it would put a whole new spin on Holy Communion, I guess." Small amounts of logic were seeping in, at least. Another second and... "You stopped me! Nobody's ever stopped me before."

From feeding on somebody else, yes, and it had saved a few people's lives, but not like this.

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell righted himself. He still felt a little dizzy, and that small sampling of blood had done nothing to settle his stomach. "You nearly sucked the life out of me," he said, incredulously, unintentionally punning in at least three different ways. "...And out of that guy!"

He did not sound nearly as freaked out about that as he probably should, were he not a hundred-year-old vampire with a history of waking up with dead bodies in hotel rooms.

[nookiepowered]

"But you stopped me," reiterated the twenty-eight year old succubus with a history of waking up with dead bodies in hotel rooms.

Oh, right. That guy. Who was currently slumped against the wall, eyes closed, but thank God, breathing. Or rather, not God, but the guy who probably wasn't really Jesus, though it might explain a lot.

"Thank you." That wasn't awkward to say at all. If heartfelt.

[chosehumanity]

"Yeah, you're welcome," Mitchell replied, but it was closer to distracted than heartfelt, as his eyes finally flicked over the area of skin that should have puncture wounds on it.

Not that he wasn't distinctly sympathetic towards I'd rather not be eating people but I can't seem to stop myself. "You're--" He frowned, stepping forward automatically to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And brushing his fingers over the same spot on his own neck.

[nookiepowered]

"Bo." Prooooobably not what he was asking, but this whole encounter was already so surreal that it didn't seem like introducing herself could make things any weirder. "I heal fast, when I've... well, you were kind of here for it."

[chosehumanity]

"Mitchell." Conversational reflex.

"You're still breathing," he added, a second later, "But you're definitely not human, are you? I can smell it."

[nookiepowered]

Bo blinked at him and said the most ludicrous thing she'd said in the last, oh, thirty seconds at least. "Okay, you know that's kind of creepy, right?"

[chosehumanity]

"I'm a vampire," he said, barely missing a beat. "It comes with the territory."

[nookiepowered]

"...Seriously?"

Vampires lived in movies and books and occasionally sparkled, not that she'd read those books. Beyond the first two chapters of the first one. Shut up. And yes, fangs and he bit her and... look, shut up.

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell shot her a look. "Oh, because you have a right to talk. Yes, seriously!"

He was not going to pop his fangs out again. It might end badly.

[nookiepowered]

"I'm not a vampire. ...I think." Sound surer about that, Bo. "I don't have fangs or drink blood. I didn't think anybody did in real life."

[chosehumanity]

"I'm fairly certain of that," Mitchell said, looking at her with a wary kind of curiosity. "There's a couple of us running around the island, and none of us ever managed that."