Arlo James

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

She should smile more often. She'd be far more personable if she did. He was almost sure. Arlo making some effort to detangle himself from that pile he'd fallen in to, the man brushing that grass and those leaves from his clothing as he rose to his feet before making some effort to help the woman to her own. Maybe he shouldn't have been quite so gentlemanly to a woman who had, moments before, seemed to dance upon the very line of his destruction and yet despite himself, despite everything he was and everything he'd been through Arlo was, at his core, inherently good, even if he made some unusual choices some times. His humanity was distinctly more intact then the majority of vampires seemed to display, Arlo very much the man he had always been in life. Those darker moments he possessed generally fuelled by hunger and once that was taken care of the man was rarely anything other than that almost well-intentioned creature he had always been. He was, in some sense, an almost stark contrast to the woman he stood with now, there veritable white to her black even despite their shared species. It had hardly escaped his notice that she seemed to be, well, not exactly holding out a lot of hope in the world or much belief in its joys. Arlo hardly happy-go-lucky himself and yet he was, largely, optimistic in most situations. Fun, at least, had ceased to abandon him even in deaths embrace. This woman, he was sure, could use a little more of it. The girl seeming almost baffled at his apology.

"The landing will be better next time."

He added almost offhandedly, that crooked grin still touching his features then. Her own bemusement at the entire scenario largely seeming lost on him. After all, even despite her efforts the man so simply seemed to trust her to hold up her end of the bargain, to not take that game to seriously and lash out at him again. He simply trusted her to be, well, decent in turn. Maybe he was more the fool and yet she didn't exactly seem the dishonourable type when she had reason not to be. Arlo perhaps prone to placing too much faith in others and yet it hardly seemed he was about to be burned today. The man making some effort to explain exactly why he was fairly sure it was a tie as opposed to either of them having been bested, his logic decidedly sound- at least to his own mind. After all, neither was incapable of continuing, they were simply choosing to meet in the middle, so to speak. The woman seeming to agree to that ideal, a soft snort leaving his own lips at the end of her words.

"For now."

He agreed easily. Arlo not entirely opposed to the idea of testing out those illusionary powers a second time. After all, there had to be a way to beat that snake, to make it break and fall apart or dissipate into nothingness. It was easy then to simply offer her his real name, at last, the vampire woman seeming to seize on that moniker, declaring it made far more sense. Well, he supposed he looked more like an Arlo then a James, the man hardly commenting on her declaration. Still, he afforded her that request to keep his name as largely to herself as possible, after all he wasn't exactly everyone's favourite vampire, Arlo glossing over those details as he often did- the man rarely ever willing to dwell on anything less than entertaining as she finally offered her own name. Petra. Huh. That was a name you didn't hear very often, at least, not anymore. The woman seeming almost unsure of it herself as she offered it. As if it was something she didn't say often.

"That's a vintage title if I ever heard one. Was that name common in your day or were your parents just like mine and trying to be creative?"

Arlo was almost as unique in its own sense, a decidedly old name that had suddenly become 'trendy' again and yet one he'd suffered through wearing all through high school when it was simply just considered, well, obscure. At least in whatever time period Petra had come from her name had likely been considered normal. Still, he supposed it mattered little in the end, one hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck in an almost sheepish gesture at that query as to just what sort of trouble someone like him could get into. If only she knew. Someone like him. People like him rarely lived this long. Even he hadn't. Vampires were dead after all.

"Money mostly. I owe some guys. I kinda have a thing for gambling if that wasn't already obvious to you. I'm a bit prone to being impulsive, if you can believe it."

Those words were almost teasing, as if his impulsiveness wasn't his most glaring fault. Arlo doing as he always did once more and making light of that situation as if the people he owed money too didn't matter that much, as if Coven's weren't trying to hunt him down or individuals wouldn't like to see him dead for what he was let alone what he did. His shoulders shrugging almost lightly, the man becoming vaguely aware that his hand was still nestled comfortably in her own.

"Vampires who feed on other vampires aren't always that popular either."

He mused softly. It's just the way it was. Crusniks hardly welcomed with open arms into most vampiric communities and he supposed he could hardly blame them. It was perhaps a crude way to test whether or not the woman before him was real or an illusion, one hand reaching out to pat her atop the head if only to prove his point. That look of momentary surprise on her features seeing that amusement threaten to overcome his own once more before he offered some explanation as to why he wasn't an illusion himself. At least, he didn't think he was. Illusions didn't think and feel right? He did those things so he couldn't be an illusion, could he? Petra seeming almost uncertain herself. Well that was concerning. The other vampire musing about her own power then and the realisation that if Arlo was truly one of her creations the world had become more dangerous. His own shoulders lifted once more, regarding Petra evenly then before those light, teasing words slipped from his own lips.

"If you created me it can't be all bad, I mean, you did a damn fine job. I'm very attractive."

That soft chuckle hummed from within his throat then, Arlo affording her hand that soft squeeze if only to prove he was real before releasing his grip at last. She was going to think he was, well, weird if he kept holding it any longer when, truth be told, he'd simply forgotten he had been. Her hand had almost felt warm. His arms folded easily across his chest then, Arlo content to move to that business arrangement they'd made, the idea of her blood still entirely delightful to him, especially when the scent of her lingered so close and he'd had that bare taste already. Petra, for her part, seemed decidedly confident in her ability to remain largely unaffected by her venom, Arlo allowing one eye to rise in amusement at her almost defiant announcement that she would not, in fact, turn into a mushy puddle. Another chuckle almost threatened to overcome him then, Arlo struggling to swallow it. If only she knew. Well- he couldn't say he didn't warn her. Petra stood a little straighter then, her eyes seeming to almost shift in their shade with that defiance as Arlo readily engaged his own affinity, disappearing from that space before her only to reappear behind. This time however, he was hardly rushed.

"It will only hurt for a second babe, I promise."

Those words were little more than a whisper to her ear before his head tilted and his lips pressed almost intimately to the skin of her neck just beneath it, his form pressing closer as he did, one hand resting gently upon her hip and yet it was hardly through some misguided affection. The man simply providing her that support she would need- even if she denied it. His lips brushed along that sensitive skin of her neck, searching for that vein he desired before his lips pulled away from his fangs. Those sharpened points pressed to her skin before Arlo bit abruptly down, plunging those fangs into her flesh and piercing that vein beneath, blood rushing to the surface near instantly- his venom flooding her system in near the same instant. That cocktail of chemicals near raced through her veins, that sedation flooding her body to relax each and every muscle until standing became entirely difficult if not impossible, until closing her eyes to sleep seemed the most perfect idea and nothing in the world seemed as if it could ever be wrong or bad. That utter bliss surely overcoming her in the same moment to add to that feeling of relaxation and simple calm that came with his bite. Arlo shifted slightly to hold her more firmly and allow her to lean on him as his fangs pulled free of those symmetrical wounds only to allow his lips to cover them and begin to draw that glorious blood from her veins. A single, soft sound of pleasure at that taste vibrating within his throat...