Arlo James

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

His trap for this evening was so perfectly set, his research into this victim had been perfect, faultless- the man having recorded his prey's nightly habits for several days now until he had become assured of the patterns the creature would follow and as such he had woven those sticky, silken threads in this particular alleyway before retreating to the shadows to await his meal to come to him and entangling itself helplessly in his net. How predictable his own kind were. Vampires naturally territorial, the one vampire often choosing to frequent the same location, or several locations, over and over in such a fashion as to stake their claim to that particular feeding ground. This end of town was new to Arlo himself, the man having been within this city but several nights and yet the abundance of prey had inclined him to stay longer then he normally would already. The habits of his own species so perfectly playing into his own specialised game and indeed it was with some measure of anticipation that he looked forward to the impending battle for tonight. He reclines easily within that shadowy doorway, piercing blue gaze fixated upon the small, leather bound notebook within his hands, the man printing neatly within it that information he was required to remember for this evening before shutting it, tucking it into the back pocket of his blackened jeans. He rolls his shoulders, testing those taught, toned muscles that so seemed to come with his own species before returning his attention to the alleyway to wait. He, Arlo, was a decidedly patient man when he chose to be. One hand pushing back those lashings of unruly black hair only to have them fall back into his gaze, his other hand pushing those leather wristbands further back towards his elbows in anticipation for his hunt.

It is that rhythmic heartbeat he hears first, a fast, distinct thrum that sounded far too....quick for his intended target, the man frowning softly before leaning slightly away from the doorframe that concealed him to allow his gaze to peer into the gloom. It was easy to spy the small, fluffy creature that raced down the alleyway, Arlo so mistaking it for a cat of sorts- one headed directly for his net and thus sure to ruin his hunt for this evening were it allowed to continue. The tall, dark-haired men steps from his hiding spot but a moment later, flicking that hood up and into place to obscure his features, seeking to shoo the cat away from his trap and back the way it had come- only to have it collided with his shoe and tumble backward, its legs flailing in a manner decidedly pathetic. His own head tilts slightly in some measure of observation and inquisitiveness- this was most definitely not a cat. The animal more akin to a fluffy fox or small bear, his hands reaching down reflexively to pick the animal up and hold it before him- examining it more readily now.

"Wha-"

His words are silenced before they can pass his throat, the sound of another entering the alleyway seeing him lower the fox-like creature- his intended target having arrived entirely on time. The other vampire was entirely flush with life, his latest feed so entirely recent that the beat of his heart could be heard- Arlo nearly drooling at the scent of him and those veins so thick with blood. How he desired it! The sight of him however, so seemed to render his prey aware, the other vampire pivoting on his heel to break into a sprint. Ah, so this one had heard of him, it would seem. This one had the sense to run. How very unfortunate. A hiss of dissatisfaction rises within his own throat, exposing those fangs with the gesture. It had been three nights since he had eaten, three nights of planning for this victim and now he was getting away. He was loath to waste his energy on a chase, especially if it should prove unfruitful and yet it was a risk he was willing to take, the creature in his hands all but forgotten- one vibrant blue eye glancing down toward the animal.

"Do you fancy a ride, chicka?"

That ever-toothy grin so flashes within the gloom once more, Arlo unzipping his coat just enough to stuff the poor creature within, zipping it up once more with just enough room for her head to poke through the top should she choose. The vampire evidently content to abduct the animal before his own form vaults upward and onto the roof. Arlo takes off across those rooftops in pursuit of the other vampire- his own path far swifter, cutting out those streets and traffic to locate the running man below as he turned hastily into the park, Arlo leaping back onto the ground- his own form veering far more to the left, circling wide and around, assured he might cut his prey off as he races through that dark park. It was as he had anticipated, the other vampire running towards him now, his own affinity so called to life to send the ball of webbing directly at his victim. The ball flaring into a net of sorts but a moment later, entangling the vampire and sending him crashing to the ground in a flurry of curses and death threats. A sigh of relief passes Arlo's lips, another grin so released into the darkness before he strides forward and towards his horribly entangled victim. His own features were well concealed, assured the vampire would hardly be capable of identifying him later before he allowed that second part of his affinity to take effect- the surge of electricity taking over those silken threads to render his victim utterly unconscious with barely a cry.

It is with a smooth, practiced ease that Arlo so ties his prey's ankles together, tossing the end of this new thread over the branch of the nearest tree to hoist his victim up, leaving the vampire hanging in a curiously upside down position before Arlo simply leans back against the tree to wait. His notebook is fished from his back pocket, along with his pen, the vampire turning diligently to a new page before beginning to record the specifics of this victim. It did not pay, when dealing with his own kind, to run into them a second time. This the best way to remember them. It is only now with this task completed that he so seems to remember the stowaway he had collected, his notebook returned to his back pocket, his jacket unzipped to procure the little bear from within, holding her within his hands once more. The deep baritone of his voice ringing out at last.

"Ah, but I forgot you, Little Bear. Do you like my work? Don't worry, it's not like he's dead- well, not more than he already was. You nearly cost me a meal, do you know that?"