Raylin Chike

Blood rushes to her ears as she tries desperately to remain calm - her wall of bravery crumbling by the second as cold sweat breaks out on her back. She would scold herself later, if there was a later, for being so stupid to remain out after dark without her bag. For now, she merely pressed the vampire to keep him talking, she knew it wouldn't last for very long, she was almost certain that his patience was wearing thin. What she wasn't aware of was the more control she lost to her fear only made her more... appetizing.

Shifting away from him, she snaps out the first words she can think of, hoping to buy herself some time. And... it seemed to work, barely. She had perhaps bought herself mere moments, but it was a moment longer than she had before. What she doesn't expect is the chuckle that leaves the man and even she can't help the way her gaze flashes towards him, a steely glare narrowing her eyes. His response is hardly surprising and yet, it made her stomach clench in a sickening way. Raylin was quite certain she might lose the contents of her stomach before the end of the night was over. If she vomited on his shoes, would his appetite go away? Maybe he would be disgusted enough to leave her alone.

It wasn't something Ray was about to take a gamble on.

Instead, she insists that most people would be willing to give up some of their blood if asked. She had partook in such things in the past, it was mostly with a one night stand or a quick romp in an alley. Honestly, the first time she had met Colt she had been very willing and terribly naive. It was her antics that caused the death of her friend, something she would hardly ever forget. Swallowing the lump of fear in her throat, she's torn away from her thoughts momentarily as Colt rises to his feet, her eyes darting up to meet his gaze only to note that he was... hesitating? Perhaps taking her comment into consideration? She couldn't tell, she didn't care. It bought her the time that she needed as she casually wiggles the flask into the sand between her legs before letting her hands fall to her side.

Slipping her fingers through the cold sand absentmindedly, she carefully grabs a fistful of sand in one hand, opposite of Colt with the hopes he doesn't see. She can only pray that he isn't watching her carefully, even as a new spike of fear rushes through her. Perhaps her fear would work in her advantage, distract him enough to execute her plan. Raylin freezes as he gestures with a hand in a come hither fashion, Ray peering up at him nervously as he casually demands a bite. This... was not what she had in mind, "Okay..." she trails off and after a moment pushes herself shakily to her feet, her hands fisted at her side, one of them full of the now warm sand between her fingers. As she stands, his accented words roll over her again as she snaps her face back to him, "N-no, I wasn't lying," she mumbles as she takes a step forward and then another, she's only a few feet away when she stops, tilting her head back and giving him a defiant look, "But I wasn't offering," she says coolly just as she swings her arm at him, releasing the sand directly into his face.

Oh god, she hoped it took him off guard. At the very least prevented him from moving for a few moments.

Her heart lodges into her throat as she spins on a heel and takes off up the beach, her feet digging into the sand and slowing her down. Terror grips her then, the woman knowing she couldn't look back, lest she lose more time on getting away or accidentally tripping. It feels like an eternity before her feet slap the pavement, Raylin hardly slowing down as she slides across the pavement and into the wall of the changing room as she frantically grapples for the zipper on her bag. Somewhere is her mind she's aware of a stinging pain on her leg, the sand and gravel tearing into her skin, surely leaving an open wound. The scratches would sting later when the adrenaline left her body. Shoving a hand into her bag, she finds what she's looking for finally and pulls out a small black gun, her back pressed to the wall of the changing room as she points quickly flips off the safety switch and points it in front of her.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. She had made it to her bag, she had retrieved her gun, and yet, she hardly felt any safer wielding the weapon, her hands were trembling wildly as she tries to brace her, her finger resting on the trigger but not pulling it. Sucking down her breaths, sweat breaks out across her forehead, "Just... stay back and I won't shoot," she pants, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes as the adrenaline pumps through her blood.