Day Thirteen - Sulking

[sadisticgiggles]

Who: Tory, Pandora
Where: Sulking around the dorms barracks. RF has barracks. I fail.
When: Morning sometime? Before Damion starts sending people over.
Rating: PG-13, most like. Pandy's kinda nuts. We're moving toward R now.

Status: Closed, Finished
Summary: Tory is outside the BARRACKS, stabbing himself with feathers and the scent of blood

Comments

[pandorasdespair]

Despite being incredibly disgusted at her very nature, Pandora had practically come running when she scented the blood. Despite her speed, she only really sauntered elegantly over, hands folded neatly behind her as if she were a young maid walking idly about. She had a goal in mind, though, and her goal was to find the source of that intoxicating scent.

Topaz eyes spotted the young man with the feathers. Young to her anyways, not that such a term meant a great deal when you were as aged as she had become. She raised an eyebrow at his activities.

"Good morning," she offered, and she attempted to catch his gaze, though her own continued to flit back to where he'd stabbed himself. Unconsciously, she licked her lips.

[sadisticgiggles]

He stopped stabbing himself, staring at his hands for a moment curiously, cocking his head to the side to regard them, before he turned his head up to face Pandora.

"Morning," he murmured, slight pout on his lips. No giggles this morning - he was too busy being a big baby.

[pandorasdespair]

Pandora's gaze lingered on his hands, and somewhere very close to the forefront of her mind, she was imagining how he might taste if she were to hold his hand in hers and suck at his fingers, lick the blood from his palms. Her eyes fell half closed a moment as she imagined it, and her gaze flickered to his neck briefly as well before she could compose herself enough to speak.

"What are you doing there?" she asked, simpering just a little, "You're bleeding."

Pale hands had already reached out as if to grab for his, and she gazed at him hungrily before she remembered herself and stopped the motion of her hands, leaving them hovering neatly between both their forms.

[sadisticgiggles]

"Am I?" Tory asked bemusedly. AS though he hadn't noticed the blood. "Oh, look at that," he murmured softly before he giggled, turning his eyes back to regard her again.

"Pain," he explained, holding up a feather. "I like it."

This, he felt, was all the explanation necessary for what he was doing. He offered her a somewhat bloody hand.

"Dav..." he began, before he frowned and trailed off. "Zol?" he tried briefly before he settled on, "Tory," with a nod.

[pandorasdespair]

Like ushering temptation right into her waiting hands. She watched wide eyed, and slightly horrified at herself, as his bloody hand neared her.

"Pandora," she managed, and she tore her gaze from his hand to meet his eyes, "It's lovely to meet you."

She reached for his hand, cradling it in her cool porcelain ones instead of shaking, and she stepped a little closer. Tilting her head, she regarded him lightly as she raised his palm to her lips, pressing a kiss to it not entirely chastely before licking the blood from her lips and stifling an appreciative groan.

Part of her recoiled at her actions; she was never this forward with anyone. Why now? Was she so starved for attention that she felt the need to torment herself with the blood of a near stranger?

[sadisticgiggles]

Tory was so, incredibly, turned on by her actions that he couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe for a moment.

To be able to live forever, and still feel pain. To be able to cause pain in others with a simple flick of your wrists. It was the ideal living situation. He shuddered, pleasure running through his entire body.

"Vampire," he managed finally, eyes turning to her, dark with lust.

[pandorasdespair]

She dropped her gaze a moment, but not his hand. Somehow, she couldn't make herself let go of that. After a moment, she glanced to him again.

"Vampire," she agreed, "Would you tempt me so, Tory, with your pain? Offering me your hand as if it were for me to sate myself with, exposing your wrist where I can hear the blood pumping beneath it, see the veins just under the surface..."

She trailed off, jewel-like eyes once again falling from his, resting on the spot where she could practically see the warm elixir pumping through his veins. Unthinkingly, she ran her tongue over elongated eye teeth.

"May I?" she asked, and in her voice was a very small amount of pleading despite her polite mannerisms.

[sadisticgiggles]

He'd been about to tell her that he hadn't know that she was a vampire when he'd offered her his hand, but all that faded when she started talking about drinking from his wrist. He was imagining the feel of her fangs sliding into his skin, the pain pleasure of the whole experience. He wondered what type of vampire she was, if it would be enough to turn him or if he would simply remain human, a blood bank for her own pleasure.

His lower lip quivered. He was incapable of words at this point. He simply nodded his head, holding his hand up a little bit further to her, hoping desperately that she wasn't joking.

[pandorasdespair]

He gave over to her so easily, and she marveled that she hadn't even had to use the spell gift to mould him to her desires. Tenderly, she pressed a kiss to his wrist, closing her eyes as she let her teeth sink into his flesh, moaning appreciatively as the blood began to rush forth into her mouth, the taste of him invading her senses. She had to be careful, she knew that; it would be all to easy to drink him dry, to take his death inside of her, and she wouldn't have that.

Achingly, she made herself pull back, releasing the suction on his wrist, stemming the flow of blood down her throat. She bit her own tongue, letting her blood mix momentarily with his before the wounds closed. The work had been ashamedly sloppy; he had bled too much, and she found herself lapping a touch at his wrist to rid it of the excess she'd left.

"Thank you," she murmured, avoiding his eyes for the moment as she began to reach for her handkerchief; she was certain she'd managed to get at least some of it on her face. Like an animal.

[sadisticgiggles]

His breath was coming out in soft gasps - she hadn't been joking, oh god she hadn't been joking - and soft whimpers and moans escaped him as he felt her teeth in his skin, his blood flowing into her mouth.

"You stopped," he whimpered softly when he felt her licking at his wrist. Part of him realized she probably had to to avoid killing him - he did feel rather light headed and giddy - but part of him didn't care about that, wanted to spur her on.

"Am I changed now?" he asked wryly, suspecting not. Suspecting it wouldn't be that easy.

[pandorasdespair]

She dabbed delicately at the corners of her mouth with her handkerchief, hoping to clean up the evidence of her indiscretion.

"Hardly," she replied, "To change you would take the majority of a day, and you would have to drink from me as well. I cannot transform you with a single bite."

She wondered if everyone would desire her company simply for that aspect, and sighed heavily, though a wry smile remained on her lips. Topaz eyes looked over to him, and she wondered at what kind of creature he must be that he wanted her to bite him, delighted in the pain of it. Her gaze flicked to his neck unconsciously, and she shifted out of habit, the fabric of her skirts rustling.

[sadisticgiggles]

He was mildly disappointed, but all was not lost. She probably couldn't feed on him again if he was a vampire, after all. He wouldn't have blood anymore. And that was a delightful sensation. He beamed lightly.

"No problem, no problem," he said with a giggle, far more delighted than he had been before, practically bouncing on his heels. He grinned at her. "Do you have to feed every day?" he asked eagerly, thinking he might hover around this spot at the same time each day, if she did.

[pandorasdespair]

She raised an eyebrow at his excitement, but it stood to reason; he liked pain, had said as much. Not that knowing that made it less unnerving.

"Have to?" she inquired, and made a sound somewhat akin to a half-chuckle, "Hardly; I could go for years without, were I slumbering. As active as I am now? Perhaps a week. However, I find I've been feeding more since arriving here."

She paced a little, idly, circling around him as if she were a hawk descending upon her prey. Slippered feet made no noise on the ground as she walk, and her gaze took in every inch of him as she circled.

"I find I ... desire it daily," she offered as she passed behind him, dangerously close, "I feel the urge to feed despite my lack of actual physical need."

[sadisticgiggles]

He was shivering, and trying very very hard to ignore the aching throbbing in his lower regions. He shivered a bit as she circled him, unable to ignore how amazing this was an experience - the anticipation and temptation alone were enough to drive him crazy. But the thought of her needing to feed again... feed on him... it was almost too much for him to take.

"Will be your blood bank," he murmured, extending his wrists in front of himself, pressed together and closing his eyes. "Shackle me - I am your prisoner."

To do with whatever she liked.

[pandorasdespair]

Cool porcelain fingers reached up to graze the delicate skin of his neck, the blood coursing beneath it thunderous in her ears.

"You would be mine?" she murmured, and she was far closer than she ought to have been, close enough that her breath might have brushed against his neck, replacing the touch of her fingers on his skin.

She eased around to face him again instead of lingering behind him. Small yet not at all delicate hands reached to encircle his wrists, making mock shackles about them.

"You could die," she warned him, completely sober, "I might take too much."

Never mind that she could save him, if it came to that, if she wanted to bestow the Dark Gift upon him. He needn't know that just now.

But somehow, the idea of having her own personal food source, someone who wanted it was appealing. Likely in that he was willing, he desired it, and she was not taking anything he didn't want to give. A shallow justification, perhaps, but a justification nonetheless.

[sadisticgiggles]

He shuddered at the touches, the movements, the feel of her breath against his skin. His lips were quivering with want, with need, and he wasn't sure exactly for what except that his head was spinning with ideas and longing and his body was responding to it with desire. He opened his eyes to regard her.

"Yours," he breathed out. "Consequences are irrelevant. Dying would be a small price to pay."

He gazed back at her with an intensity that wasn't deliberate.