Arlo James

See what it's like to be a vulture's lunch

His hands pressed again to that dense, wet cement that towered above him like a veritable skyscraper. Even with his corpse of a body so filled with blood and in turn energy and life and power he could never hope to jump straight upward that high. The lack too- of any protruding object from any of the buildings above assured he had little to cast his webbing over and thus facilitate his climb upward. He was stuck against that wall with but one exit, one that was rapidly closing and yet the risk of merely charging headlong back into the darkness and so surprising the woman was one he was hardly willing to take. He was, perhaps, unlike the rest of his kind in that respect. He was prone to aggression in only those truly rare circumstances, when hunger or the scent of blood seemed to force away anything else in his mind as it did for so many younger vampires until all that existed with that horrific hunger he so loathed and yet remained incapable of stopping. He hated that. He hated looking at the world as if it were all a meal for the taking and yet sometimes he was capable of nothing else. He tried. God he tried and yet he still came up short far often then he cared too. Self-preservation perhaps, was the most defining of his instincts, Arlo so defaulting to flight over fight nearly every single time. His own kind, after all, tended to be skilled hand to hand fighters- so he had simply adapted to be better in other ways even if that so often included running and yet, for the first time in years he had run out of places to run- and against a Hunter no less. His options were so swiftly running out and he disliked those that remained to him. She was sure to have more than that one stake she had thrown at him.

He feels his lips pull back from his fangs, an instinctive response of his species when threatened with anything that displeased them and yet the woman so seemed to double over in laughter as she hauled herself onto the roof- as if his predicament amused her, as if his impending death was of a delight to her- something within him flaring as his fists tightened and his fingernails bit into his skin. Bitch. He finds his words all the same, words the only thing left to him ow aside from attempting to engage her head on and yet, even now he was...loath to do it. Even though he knew she had seen him beneath that hooded jacket, that she could surely identify him again, those azure blue eyes narrowed upon her as she spoke. Her words as biting and sarcastic as her body language told him it would be and yet her question was unanticipated. His eyes lingering on the silvered knife she rolled within her hand. Arlo remembering well the taste of Kat's as it bit into his shoulder, that a sensation he would rather be spared again.

He hardly had time to consider however before she spoke again, demanding of him a second time along with what he is sure is a false promise. Let him go? He'd heard that before from Hunters and his own kind alike. They never let him go. Silver tongued, the lot of them. His gaze cast briefly upward again, searching still for an escape, Arlo nothing if not entirely opportunistic- he merely needed that opportunity to prevent itself. Unfortunately, this time, it seemed he had but a handful of options left and she was blocking all of them. He needed her to move. He forces his hands into his pockets then, his frame hardly losing that tense, ready hold and yet it would seem, at least, he had so decided to weigh up his options. Let him go? Bullshit she would let him go. Yet that didn't mean he couldn't play along, at least for a little. He hadn't survived this long because he was foolhardy. He was boxed in, shooting him would be like shooting a fish in a barrel. It was better for now at least, to give her just what she wanted, as much of it as he could anyway. There were some answers even he didn't have. Arlo shifting almost uncomfortably as his feet scuffed at the floor. Eyes lifting back to her own now as locks of black hair fell back against that ardent blue gaze. His words chosen with care.

"The girl was as appealing to me as a tofu burger would be to you. I'd have to be desperate or bored to bite her. I'm not like them- I'm not like other vampires."

Arlo wandered to the side now. His steps slow, measured, ever-watchful of the woman as he simply began walking along the side, eyeing that gap between her and the wall in a game of 'chicken' as it were.

"The others call me things, Cannibal, Vulture, Drainer, Crusnik- I hear that one a lot. I feed on other vampires. I let them feed first and then I steal the meal right out of their veins."

He was edging ever closer to that space, either she was going to let him pass her or she wasn't. Arlo so attempting to put a measure of assurance into each step if only to make her hesitate in turn. His words surely left more questions than answers, Arlo hardly offering her the whole truth, merely parts of it, offering no explanation for the vampire's drugged state or just how he hunted or even why and yet that wasn't what she'd asked for- not really.

"You got to kill something already tonight. I've got nothing left to tell you. I'm not a bad guy, alright? I was just hungry, I didn't kill anyone. Like I said- I'm not like them."