Arlo James

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

She seemed almost surprised at that query about her name, as if people didn't ask about it often, didn't anyone else notice that it was unusual? Not the sort of unusual that made people stare like Stryker or Maverick but old, dated, hardly the sort of name anyone had anymore- like Florence or Bertha or Betty. It sounded like an old name in the least. Arlo almost sure it gave away something about what century she had been born too in the least- or it would, if he knew history nearly well enough to place it. Still, the woman seemed to recover from her momentary shock, offering that tale about her parents and the reason how she had come to get that name, Arlo feeling one eye lift upward in curiosity. They named her for eyes? The almost striking deep blue of his own glanced upwards to meet hers, if only to assess that theory in a way, his head tilting slightly before that boyish, lopsided grin found its way back to his lips.

"They don't look all that cold to me."

Where they supposed to? There was something odd about the woman. He'd give her that in the least. She seemed oddly....detached in a way. Arlo half inclined to wonder if that came from those illusion powers and her explanation of the way she seemed to be confused, sometimes, as to what was real and what wasn't. Still, he hardly found he minded the girl. She was unusual, different and intriguing all at once. She could smile a little more- that would hardly hurt her and yet for now Arlo was entirely content to pick his battles, his shoulders shrugging loosely at that mention of money. The one thing he never seemed to have enough off and always seemed to owe. Petra affording him that answer that the entire vampire community seemed to have on standby. Money was easy to get. If it was that easy why wasn't he rolling in it? Where were all the other vampires getting all that money from? Did they work? Did they inherit it? How the hell where they doing it!? His own gaze glanced downwards at those shoes on his feet, shoes that were barely being held together by faint strings of fabric, a soft snort released from within him then, his hand still gently entwined with her own and yet, truly, he'd hardly noticed.

"Guess I have the wrong gifts then."

His lips quirked all the same, that ever-optimistic attitude continuing to shine through like a veritable light in the dark. It had always been his way after all. To act as if everything was fine, as if everything was in control even if it wasn't. Arlo the great pretender. His gaze drifted briefly to her own hand then, watching as that stack of money suddenly appeared. Petra holding more money in her hand then Arlo was sure he'd ever seen in a lifetime. Was that her power at work? Illusionary money? Could you pay for things with that or would it just disappear? The answer to his question came almost suddenly, those bills tossed upward to flutter down around them, Arlo resisting that urge to reach other and snatch some of it up before it slowly begun to dissipate into the grass. It wasn't real then. It was simply....falsified and yet she had to have real money too, surely. After all so much money these days was electronic, it was surely harder to fake numbers on a screen and yet she could easily go around handing out those fake bills while storing the real stuff away for later. Yeah. Maybe that was how she did it. Arlo's idle wonderings briefly interrupted by those further inquiries, the man hardly afraid to admit that maybe, just maybe, he had a bit of a gambling problem. That impulsiveness that had driven him as a human seeming to have followed him into that afterlife. Sometimes it served him almost well, hell, it had helped his stage presence if nothing else and had a habit of making him decidedly....bold in his new found vampiric persona. That same boldness the very thing that gave him the spine to come after his own species and embrace what he truly was even despite the scorn most other vampires met him with. Petra admitting then that his love of a bet had perhaps not been all that hard to deduce, that soft chuckle rising in his own throat.

"You were a fifty-fifty shot. I took my chances."

She was either going to kill him or she wasn't. He was either going to get a meal or he wasn't. Arlo content to look at the world with those almost simplistic ideals, those odds evidently good enough for the man to have embraced that impulsiveness and turned his gaze on Petra tonight when a wiser vampire might surely not have. After all, she had always been a risk. The older ones usually were and yet, like Sebastian, she hadn't turned out to be too bad at all. Strange but.....not a bad person. A part of the man simply refusing to believe she was quite as cold as she appeared, at least, not all the way through. Still, attempting to bring out the best in people was hardly his own talent, the man willingly admitting the fact that most other vampires hardly found him exactly agreeable. His species wasn't exactly popular. Hypocritical bastards those other vampires were. Happy to bite everything but not get bitten themselves. Petra's own admittance that she was hardly the most popular either didn't exactly come as a surprise. She was an attractive woman, that much could hardly be denied and yet there was just that...air about her. She wasn't exactly the welcoming sort, Arlo having deduced that much from their time together and yet, the younger vampire so had a way of appealing to most individuals when given a chance, his almost overly optimistic attitude almost infectious in some sense, or at least, it hardly made him appear as to much of a threat to be destroyed. Arlo a decidedly friendly being when allowed to be and yet that guarded nature of the woman made her almost the opposite, at least seemingly so. Still, Arlo was mostly sure that beneath it all she was almost pleasant really. The younger man wholly oblivious to that multitude of thought that turned in her own mind over that past she had once suffered.

It was that very idea that he might have been an illusion that stole that grin to his lips all over again, Arlo at least making some attempt to prove he wasn't, or at least, he didn't think he was. Illusions couldn't think about that sort of thing right? An illusion couldn't know it was an illusion could it? Did it have emotions? His own features shifted then into something of a curious look at the very idea before declaring it was that basis of emotion, surely, that made him real. Besides, even if she had created him he was pretty sure she had done a good job. Confidence hardly lacking in Arlo in any sense, that sense of modesty perhaps a little more absent and yet those words were little more then a tease, one designed to bring exactly that smile to her lips and that declaration she had good taste. She really should smile more often. His hand so at least released her own, Arlo barely having noticed he'd still been holding it as he moved on to those more pressing matters. He'd been good after all hadn't he? Controlled? Well-behaved? He deserved that reward he was sure. He'd won it fairly enough and yet even now, after all that, he hardly found himself willing to just lunge at her. The man content to at least attempt to tell her what was going to happen, not that she seemed to care. Hmm. In this at least she was just like all the others, the woman holding some belief she was invulnerable to his venom like so many did. Did they truly not realise he was designed for this? His venom made to bring them down? At least is was pleasurable for them he supposed. A tiny part of the man was almost curious to see just what Petra might be like under the sway of those chemicals and in that state of utter bliss he was so good at inducing in them. What was Petra like without those guarded walls?

It took barely a moment for his tall, toned figure to appear behind her then, one arm resting around her in something almost akin to a lovers embrace even if designed purely to prevent her falling, the woman assured that brief pain hardly mattered to her. Her voice holding that rich tone to it all the same. She could have been a singer he was sure, maybe he'd ask her about that later but for now his thoughts had a singular goal and a singular purpose, those final words uttered against her skin as his lips brushed against her porcelain flesh in search of the vein beneath. He could feel that flow of blood against his own lips, that tantalizing smell coaxing that venom and saliva in turn as he allowed the tips of those canines to brush against her flesh in the briefest of warnings of what was to come before he bit down. Those fangs readily pierced her flesh, that sharp inhalation at that momentary pain felt readily as her body so briefly tensed against his own before that venom took over, invading her bloodstream and system at large to force her body beneath its sway within mere seconds. Her blood welled quickly to the surface, wetting his lips and tongue and sparking that near ravenous desire to feed, Arlo ensuring that venom had been thoroughly injected before his fangs slid from those symmetrical wounds, his lips covering them once more to draw that blood from her.

He was almost greedy in that feeding. The young vampire drawing mouthful after mouthful of that delicious liquid as he body seemed to forget how to stand, Petra slumping against him as his own grip upon her tightened to keep her standing, that soft hum erupting from within her bringing a smile to his own lips and against her skin. That taste was delightful. His own body utterly craving it as Petra so undoubtedly fell further and further into that haze of pleasure and calm- as if nothing in the world had ever been wrong or would be again, that state of sheer bliss readily overtaking her as Arlo continued his meal. He was aware of that soft utterance of his name, that word almost breathless and yet for that singular moment he was utterly incapable of answering her, the man far too focused on his meal. His grip upon her tightened, the vampire savouring those last few mouthfuls before her own natural healing began to lessen that blood flow, Arlo willing to let it as his tongue swept across those wounds he'd made, encouraging it to heal. He lent away then at last, his grip still upon the woman, his own body flushed with that life and heat he'd stolen from her in turn, the girl sure to be ravenous when those chemicals faded from her form and yet for a little while longer he suspected hunger would remain the last thing upon her body, the sedation taking rather a while to wear off.

"You right there, babe? Why don't we just sit down for a minute?"

His own form shifted backward, easing himself down onto that grass, leaving Petra to all but tumble into his lap as she rode that glorious high, his tongue sweeping across his lips in satisfaction of that meal. He leant easily back against that tree then, shuffling his position just so as to keep that woman within his arms and against him, allowing her to use his body to, well, keep herself upright rather than face first in the grass. He'd said he'd keep her safe till that venom wore off, Arlo good to his word if nothing else, the man unwilling to let her get herself stabbed by a hunter because of him.

"You doing alright? I warned you....."

Whether she could manage full sentences remained to be seen, that grin touching his own lips now in slight satisfaction. He did warn her after all.

"Don't worry babe, I'll stay here until your alright again. You taste pretty damn good too, just saying."