(Untitled)

[fallsoutofbox]

Who: >=< and his dragon. Also Sefton, and Some, and Bonnie =3
What: Various things!
When: The weekend of May 14/15
Where: Le Gode Hostel
Notes: This main post is just a placeholder; I realized I'd set up plans for three separate logs taking place in the hostel, so instead of spamming the comm they're just all gonna go here, as comment threads. Cool

Comments

[blytheandbonnie]

Bonnie raised her eyebrows. This was a dangerous little game she was playing. Damon would, she was certain, skin her alive if he knew how much information she was handing away, all because she found a man interesting.

But all right. It was only fair. If they were going to do the--how had he put it?--sex thing, then it was only fair that he know more than just her name and her hair color.

For that matter, she still wasn't sure that they were going to do the sex thing. What a strange night this was turning out to be. She wondered if it would be smart just to bite him, enchant him, and send him on his way.

Instead, Bonnie leaned up, resting her lips against his ear. "I am," she whispered against his skin, "thirty-five or so." Possibly thirty-six now, but she wasn't sure how long she'd been in Rowan or Willaknepp, really. She was, quite obviously, not physically that old. She'd been carded every single time she ordered a drink, and never had any trouble getting student discounts at movie theaters. Still, all things considered, she knew she was very young, as far as immortals went.

She leaned down to brush her lips against his neck, "But I will claim to be 21 for a very, very long time." Discounting any stakes.

Pulling away, ever so reluctantly, she lied back onto the bed, resting her arms above her head. She gazed up at him in a clear challenge. "Your move, Doctor."

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One the one hand, thirty-five might as well have been twenty-one - it didn't matter much relative to his age. But it did matter that she didn't look that old.

He followed her down to the bed - falling down on his side next to her, one arm landing across her waist. Resting, almost naturally, across the waistband of her robe.

"Less than I would've guessed for someone who's been Scottish a few times," he admitted, his fingers wrapping around the band and tugging lightly as he scootched an inch or two closer to her.

[blytheandbonnie]

As he scooted closer, Bonnie lightly draped her leg over his hip, moving her foot to brush the fuzzy slipper against his thigh. "I said I've been to Scotland a few times," she clarified. "I have been Scottish all my life. Although I guess species and ethnicity aren't the same thing, are they?"

She reached for his belt and paused then, tilting her head. Holding his jacket between her thumb and forefinger, she lifted it up a bit to peer underneath. Was he wearing suspenders?

"You were going to tell me how old you are," she reminded him, though slightly distracted by his outfit.

[fallsoutofbox]

He was unfazed by her bemusement. His thumb and forefinger toyed with the belt of her robe. Fuzzy.

"Nine hundred and eight, this..." He paused and looked upward to do a bit of mental math. "...August. Assuming I don't jump into another timeline."

[blytheandbonnie]

That cast her mind off the suspenders. Bonnie looked thoughtful as she pulled the robe off over her shoulders. "My last boyfriend was a--"

She paused then, frowning. It had almost slipped out there.

"He was like me," she clarified. "But he was about 500 or so. It was hard to wrap my head around for awhile." The robe, once it was off, she tossed over the side of the bed. She leaned in, lightly rubbing her nose down his jaw. His age, if he was telling the truth--and she didn't see what he stood to gain by lying--made Damon seem like nothing more than an angsty teenager.

"Any big plans for your thousandth birthday celebration?" she asked lightly, continuing down to his neck with a series of sprinkled kisses, pausing with her lips by his throat.

He seemed relaxed. It was now or never, wasn't it?

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His hand landed back on her waist once the robe was gone. He looked up and smiled as she started nuzzling against him. Oh, what the hell. If she was going to enjoy herself here, he might as well do it too. He closed his eyes and allowed those kisses to have the effect she wanted. His heartbeats began to pulse quicker under his skin.

"Don't really make plans," he said with a little sigh, "Talk to me the day before."

[blytheandbonnie]

"I'll make a note of it," she promised, smiling against his throat.

There. He was finally getting into it. Thump thump-thump thump. Just one bite, just a small bite, and he'd barely even notice. Then she'd enchant him and he'd forget and they could go back to the lovely kissing part.

Her fangs extended and with an easy, well-practiced movement, she sank them into his neck.

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"Oh," he thought, and said, as his hand tightened on her waist and his eyes shut, just for a second, against the prick of pain.

That sound, for being a single syllable, was pretty complex. There was the 'oh' of it being a great big honking massive clue, although vampires weren't the only things out there that drank blood there, but then again there did seem to be an awful lot of them about the city... and then there was the 'oh' that came from the minor involuntary spike in sex hormones; blimey, he'd just had to let the capricious little things loose, hadn't he...

Then his heart rate elevated another tick for a different reason: fear. Not for his life, but in a way, for hers. No matter how human he looked on the outside, Time Lord blood was not human, and it was likely the two of them weren't even from the same reality. He had no clue what his blood would do to her. But if he threw her away and her fangs tore at his neck, he wouldn't be having a good day either.

His hand bunched up in her hair and pulled, trying to ease her mouth away from his neck. Not with a yank, but not without force, either.

[blytheandbonnie]

It wouldn't take much effort for the Doctor to pull Bonnie off of him. She backed away easily enough, nose wrinkling up.

He tasted weird. As a kid, she'd once raided her sister's purse and found what she thought was a chocolate bar. It had, in fact, turned out to be some sort of chocolatey protein bar that hadn't tasted a thing like chocolate.

It was sort of the same let down she was getting now. He'd smelled so wonderful and those two hearts had been so exciting, but in reality, he tasted like fake chocolate.

For a moment, she was too baffled to realize that he was pulling her off. He shouldn't have been. He shouldn't have been able to figure out what she was doing just yet. No one had ever pulled her away mid-feeding before.

She looked up at him with an expression that resembled a startled deer more than any sort of predator. I did not just feed on you, she suggested to him quickly. All you remember is that I kissed your neck.

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His expression hardened, he looked at her from under a furrowed brow - although when he spoke, he sounded a little breathless.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "Don't do that."

[blytheandbonnie]

With a startled noise, Bonnie pulled away, staring at the Doctor with eyes nearly as wide as saucers.

"What the fuck?" she exclaimed, in what was an entirely rare use of profanity.

She pushed herself up into somewhat of a sitting position, taking a few deep breaths as she looked between the Doctor and the door and the window. He wasn't normal. Whatever his blood had done to her (gods, her heart was racing) and whatever it meant that he knew what she'd done--

Oh gods, he knew what she'd just done.

--she knew she had to get away. Run away, don't wait around long enough to get staked.

And yet, for some reason, she stayed. Remained on the bed, remained close enough for him to set her on fire or run something through her heart. Staring at him.

"I'm sorry," she said. Which sounded, even to herself, ridiculous. But she didn't know what else you were supposed to say to a person after you'd tried to drink their blood.

[fallsoutofbox]

He sat up after her, hands reaching for her face. He checked her pupils, her forehead, the flush of her skin, put his fingertips against her pulse (she had a pulse. that was strange, wasn't it?).

"How are you feeling?" He took note of her deer-in-the-headlights look and decided to explain a thing or two. His hands stayed on her face, turning it toward himself, making sure he could see her eyes. Almost comforting, in a way. "I'm not human. Never was. I don't know the effect my blood's going to have on you. How are you feeling?"

[blytheandbonnie]

"Awake," she answered immediately. But that wasn't all, was it? He was being so nice (why was he being so nice?), and he at least deserved an honest answer.

Without pulling back or looking away, she went on in a rush of words:

"Energetic, like I could run for miles. And I can feel everything, everything is heightened, like I can feel my fingernails and my hair and I can hear people floors away. Excited. Guilty. Satiated. Nervous. Alive. Aroused."

She hadn't quite stopped that one in time.

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"Okay." That sounded... not so bad. Although he should probably stick around for a while make sure it didn't turn into something 'so bad.' He gave her cheek a reassuring pat. "You're okay." For now. If it turned into something else, they'd deal with it then.

He put a hand to his neck. The bite marks were still there, seeping blood - fortunately, at a slow pace, but when he pulled his hand away again there were two little spots on his palm.

"D'you always bite people without asking permission?"

[blytheandbonnie]

"Not many people would say yes," she reasoned. "And I never take enough to hurt someone. I'm just trying to stay alive."

Alive. Well, that was part of it. Her sanity was what she was more concerned about. It was more fleeting.

When she saw him touching his neck, Bonnie immediately leaned in to fix the wound, only pausing when he flinched. "It's okay," she said as comfortingly as she could manage. "I just want to fix it up. I won't bite again. You tasted weird."

She leaned in then, pulling her hair behind her shoulder and running her tongue along the wound--and then again, although it wasn't entirely necessary. Her fingers found themselves involuntarily weaving into his hair.

[fallsoutofbox]

He felt the wound close. Well, that was a useful skill. Especially coupled with her apparent ability to make her usual victims forget what she'd done.

He didn't react to her over-licking or the fingers in his hair, not for the first few seconds. Not outwardly. He was still turned on, and little pinging sensations were rippling out along his skin from where she touched him, but it wasn't anywhere near intense enough that he couldn't ignore it.

Also, he was distracted by the two little spots of blood on his palm. His hand hovered in mid-air in front of his face as he wondered what to do about them. If she thought he tasted weird, so much for asking her to take care of it. And he wasn't about to wipe it on her bedspread or his own clothes.

He settled on putting the hand in her hair, grabbing a good chunk of it.

"I should stay for awhile," he found himself saying. "Make sure you stay okay."