Unicorn, show me the way! [nsfw for gore]


Tonight was a good night! Pippa had been on a run of gluttony, literally barhopping for the drunkest people for the last two hours all the way from Magic Hollow. If she fed a lot in one night maybe she'd just not have to eat tomorrow!!

When she'd stumbled into the Heights, she'd felt the weighty feeling and paused herself, but her judgment was questionable at best as she shrugged it off and continued on. It would be fine if she just didn't cause any problems, or so she told herself.

Now amidst flashy drag queens and beautiful people, she was hunting for like the sixth time tonight, and a stray thought had her wondering if she'd get fat or bloated or something, which would be unfortunate but was better than getting bony. Whatever!


BJ desperately needed a night out. Being newer to Mountainside meant that she didn't really know anyone, but that had never stopped her before. There was an amazing sounding drag bar in Lavender Heights, so even though it was a bit far away, BJ was perfectly happy to leave Cedar Creek behind for the night to make her way to the club.

Once inside, BJ felt at home. The music was loud, and she instantly fell into the thumping groove of it. Normally, she'd need a few drinks to help her unwind and let loose, but it had been so long since she'd been in a club that it didn't matter. The life and hype surrounding her was enough. There had been nothing like this in jail, after all. In fact, she felt so alive in that instant that she didn't even care that she was dancing completely by herself.

It was only when someone accidentally bumped into her, causing her to lose her balance in her high heels and knocking her to the floor, that she realized she was actually alone. The person who knocked into her was completely oblivious, and had only thrown a 'Sorry!' over their shoulder. not knowing that they'd knocked someone down. BJ frowned as she tried to get back to her feet in the heels quickly, lest she be stepped on next.

Pippa was oblivious, too! She was on the lookout for drunk men, not women on the floor!

That said, it was very suddenly that she realized she was coming face to face with one of those yummy-blooded psychics. By tripping over her, falling into a sloppy stumble over her legs. "Ah!" she squealed, and for a moment there was also that dangerous goblin feeling inside her.

But she was luckily very fed, and so she was able to squash it for now. "Hi!" she said to the girl as she tried to collect herself, and that was enough to clue her in. Drug blood. Yum.

Well, she wasn't stepped on, but suddenly, then was another woman tripping over her. BJ would've been mad if she didn't know it wasn't exactly her fault. Or maybe it was the sudden, chipper 'Hi!' that got to her. At any rate, BJ suddenly busted out laughing. She finally kicked off her heels, stood up, and stuck her feet carefully back in the ankle breakers. "Hi," she said back to the woman. "Sorry I was on the floor! Are you alright?"

The woman seemed like she was fine- she had been chipper and it looked like her outfit was alright too. "Cute dress!" she said a moment later, speaking loudly over the bumping music. Maybe this girl could be a friend she needed.

Pippa was very very alright, despite being close to not being alright! She got up too and smoothed it out. Actually their dresses were pretty similar, which made it cuter.

"Thanks!" she said of the compliment, voice risen above the music. "You smell nice!" Unabashedly honest, she beamed and she wasn't even showing her vampire teeth.

BJ smiled at the compliment, and maybe blushed a little too. Her perfume was some cheap Britney Spears perfume she picked up at Wal-Mart, but the compliment felt nice. It felt normal. And BJ needed for things to just be normal in her life for once. "Are you here with anyone?" she yelled back, not wanting to hold this girl back from her friends or partner if she was there with them. She also wasn't about to mention she was there on her own as she didn't want the woman to feel guilty if she was simply trying to have a fun night out and didn't want to have some sad girl she'd just met suddenly tag along.

"Just you!" she chirped back, thinking her game was running really smooth tonight. "Hey, can I get you a drink? What's your poison?"

The best way to get on someone's good side was to offer to get them tipsy for free. And getting on a good side would be nicest for her purposes! She could finish the night with drug blood and just flop on the floor like a happy Pippa fish.

BJ was practically giddy with excitement. The woman wanted to hang out with her and she was only too happy to oblige. She even offered to get her a drink! BJ would have to pay her back later- get her a drink of her own, too. "If we're talking cocktails- a tequila sunrise; beer- any IPA!" This was turning out to be the best night ever. All BJ had wanted when she moved was a nice, supportive group of friends who didn't know anything about her sordid past.

While this girl wasn't necessarily agreeing to be her best friend nor was she even open to the idea of being in a group of friends, BJ couldn't help but have some hope that this was all going to work out. Girls looking out for girls. That hadn't always been the case in jail, but she definitely made a few friends inside who helped her out every now and then, and in turn, she did what she could to help them. This was, hopefully, going to be the same.


 The message had come in and (while she would not admit to the hold up) she had stopped to change before going to check in on what was allegedly a rogue rooting around their home. And no, she was not the end of the line of power and sway, but it would be a lie to say she wasn't feeling rather good about herself as of late. A little wind beneath her sails that made her particularly eager to poke about and see what she might find.

 It came back to a club, gut instinct telling her she'd be spending her night interrupting a meal most like. The line in was thankfully reasonable, the congestion just inside bad enough that she mumbled pardons and wiggled her way through, stepping sideways and shuffling along to avoid stomping on feet.

 It was a medley of body heat and temptation (some human and some not), but with one uninvited guess, a fly in the proverbial gazpacho. It took a couple of beats to orient herself, to close in until she was almost certain she'd found the rogue in question. She looked from one to the other, closed in a bit and stared pointedly at the blonde as she waited for a moment, a gap in which to close in. In the very least, she certainly wouldn't leave her alone to indulge.

Did she want both?! Wasn't that kind of greedy?? Pippa laughed and nodded and went to turn around and get her order anyway and it was roughly then that she was met with a cold feeling down her spine and a colder stare boring into her own.

It froze her and took all the good feelings with it, and that goblin sense inside her began to rise some again, hovering with a threat. This wasn't fair. She was here first. Other vampires always tried to take her fun away. She just wanted some drug blood, damn it.

"What do you want?!" she shouted in frustration, even offered a stamp of her foot (which, in heels, ow!) "Go away, I was here first!"

The girl had barely turned when suddenly another woman was there and the girl she'd been talking to suddenly got mad. BJ frowned. She wasn't interested in girl fights and the drama that came with them. She wondered briefly if these two had been together before and now couldn't stand to be in the same club together. It was the only thing that made sense to her. Unless there was a boy involved. Ugh. The only thing worse than catty bitch fights were catty bitch fights over a boy.

Huffing, BJ stepped forward. "Listen, I don't know what all beef you two have, if you're exes or if, god forbid, this is about a boy, but I'm here to have a good time, and I was gonna chill with her," she turned to look at the brunette and pointed to the blonde, indicating that she was wanting to hang out here with her. She looked between the two of them and shook her head. "And good god, if this is over a boy, dick is plentiful, ladies, and it ain't worth neither of your's time and bitchiness."

With that said, she took a step back and hoped that that was that.

 It lacked the subtlety she was trying to aim for, felt like a wire that could easily arc and set the whole mess on fire. She looked down when the blonde stomped her foot, one brow lifting somewhat before the meal of the evening came in to fret. When the girl regrettably looked away, she turned her attention back to the other vampire.

 "Stop making a scene at once." It felt cheap as soon as she said it, scowling as she was quick to try to correct her course. "We need to leave, let's go." A fleeting glance to the brunette as she looked her over. "I'd keep out of it."

Suggestion 1: FAIL


The girl she was trying to eat tried way too hard to insert herself, and if Pippa had any more grasp of herself she might have like tried to be all "hey this isn't about you" even if it totally was. But anyway.

The goblin threatened, and Pippa held it back, feeling powerful to a petty and dangerous extent. The other vampire tried. She was incorrigible.

"No! You can take yourself away from here! Goodbye!"

Neither woman seemed too keen on leaving and BJ scowled. Why was negativity so attracted to her, she wondered with a roll of her eyes. All she wanted to do was have a good night out. And yet, each time she tried, something stupid had to happen to ruin it. Angry and annoyed, she focused her attention on the brunette and decided she would try to do something to get rid of her.

BJ's eyes shifted from their lighter blue color to a much deeper blue as she made a putrid smell- one that was similar to vomit mixed with rancid meat and feces- waft up towards only the brunette. Maybe the smell would chase her off, and since she'd be the only one to smell it, no one else would have to suffer through it or decide to leave.

God, what a miserable fucking creature.

 She didn't say as much, though her patience shrunk by a good chunk and she felt prepared to snap like a band pulled far too tightly. The odor that flooded the space was foul enough that she sneered, discretely opted to not breathe as she looked to the brunette again and gave her comfort to try to spare her from a bad time indeed. "Run home." But it was a distracted effort as she watched the rogue vampire from her peripheral, rounding on her just as quick.

"Let's go, now." Closing in but yet to set a hand on her as she felt the sandpaper grate of gall and foolishness.

So first she was going to send her dinner packing, and then she was going to intimidate her out?? Pippa felt the floodgates open as she opened her mouth to protest again — and her voice instead came out an unholy dinosaurish sort of sound.

Jaws unhinging, skin stretching, fingers lengthening, her nights without incident rapidly fell to zero as she stumbled into bloodlust and gave an angry, still-morphing-into-bloodlust slash towards the woman's face.

Of course, this was happening in a club. With people. How delightful!


The stench didn't appear to do much to deter the other girl, and BJ rolled her eyes as the girl told her to leave. She was about to grab the blonde's hand and just pull her away when something weird started happening.

"Yo, what the fuck?" BJ whispered, as she watched the blonde's body stretch into some hideous creature. Long, dagger like nails slashed the other woman's face and BJ took several steps back from the pair. Fear filled every inch of her body and with a "Fuck this!" she kicked her heels off and ran for it.

 If ever there was a time she was definitely broadcasting some sense of duress, it was definitely then and there. People froze, the music didn't stop but it went without notice, the little nosy bitch that almost became a meal ran off like a damsel in much distress. All of that was secondary to the face that her fucking face hurt.

 She couldn't see it but she could feel it, throbbing ribbons where the skin was carved away along her cheek. And no, she wasn't particularly horrified at the idea of getting messy. But they were in public and there were people screaming and mobbing up at the main exit now and her fucking face was oozing old blood down and onto her neck syrupy slow so that it tickled. Except it hurt more than that and she wasn't sure how long that would take to heal and she quite liked her face and this was supposed to be discrete and -

 She sneered, more blood in the form of a metallic taste as her teeth lengthened and cut into her gums. She neglected that, tried to hold onto some semblance of control as she lunged forward to try to grab the vampire hard as she could by her throat and throw her with all her might.



He could feel it. There was the ripple of concern, but then a greater beacon of alarm. It was loud, persistent, a sort of clenching anxiety that Beauregard was not inclined to feel on his own.

He wasn't terribly far, but he wasn't right next door either. Teeth grating, more for the intensity of the sensation than aggravation (the latter he could feel in the aftermath), he whirled in a rush toward his car from where he'd been very nicely tailing a young woman who could have been dinner.

arriving in roughly 8 posts


And now the entire reason for the tantrum at all was escaping, but no worries, so was Pippa's mind. So while the lady would be free, the other vampire was now the —

An enraged and strangled screech left her as the other grappled her. She was tossed with an immense strength before she could grab the other with her, her head throttled into the edge of the stage, sending all nearby scattering with screams. Her own dead blood would start to seep, though it was largely lost to the strands of her hair.

She screeched back at them and the vampire too as she struggled back to her feet.



 It was too fucking late for damage control, not as simple as grabbing a girl by the arm and wiping an evening from her memory. She lost count of the number of people running and screaming. She'd just grabbed a vampire by the throat and thrown her a good distance - there was no blending in with the mob, not while her face was oozing syrupy blood.

 The more the reality set, the longer her nails drew and the more her jaw ached as the bones snapped and refused long and jagged. No coming back. She closed in then, saw an opportunity and went for it as the blonde struggled back to her feet, aiming to kick her hard right in the face to try to knock her back down.



This was it. This was desperation as she sought to stand her stupid ground, failing as she was to stand at all. She managed up barely enough only to be knocked back down, a kick to the face breaking her nose and pulsing forward the need to win something, somewhere.

Not everyone could be a winner.

Pippa the goblin cradled her bleeding, broken face in one clawed hand; the other swept low, aiming to hook into the other vampire's nearest leg.

There would be nothing.



 She jerked her leg back, a sharp step of a recoil just in time to avoid the razor-sharp points of the vampire in front of her's fingers. The noise that came from her was shrill as she rounded at a speed impossible to recreate by the average man. Moving to drop to the ground, trying to plant a knee to the woman's back to attempt to keep her down and complacent so she could try to just - fucking think of what to do now.



There was no thought for Pippa to be had. Her nose was broken, her so often buried ego scrabbling for acknowledgment. A knee to the back kept her down, but she'd manage to wriggle and twist her pinned body enough to reach back for that leg again above the knee. She clawed as deeply as she could, pterodactyl screeching all the while like a mindless feral beast.



 It was some variant of a growl, the noise she made when the woman beneath her thrashed and twisted enough to sink her nails into her upper leg. She growled, moved to try to use the heel of her palm to shove the other vampire into the hard flooring face first for a second time. Nearly at the same time, she tried to recoil, falling to the side and missing the mark in the process as she felt her anger only rise.



It was distantly tempting to flee, but the bloodlusted moron was far too enraged, too hurt, too hangry to form a proper thought. No, much easier to stay here and scramble for what little glory there was. Maybe if anyone edible was left she could glut and feast.

The other went to the side and the only thing that drove her was this need to fell her foe, and so sloppily she crawled at her, seeking to hook into her shoulder, chest, anything of that nature. Her moves were desperate and unrefined, and it didn't help that that blow to the face had rendered it difficult to see.

Hit D:


 She assumed, quite clearly, that the bitch was unhinged - a sloppy turn, ill-fit for survival in a standard lifespan much less forever. The only way to make sense of why in the fuck she would spark all of this, what would lead to this gross misstep into foolishness that threw her off in its absurdity. She sneered when the other woman's claws dug into her shoulder, skirted along her chest and cut through skin and cloth without distinction.

She moved to grab her by the throat again, tried to hoist her back, easier said than done with all her thrashing and the slick coat of blood along both of them now.

Miss D;


As he parked with decided illegality in some handicap spot, Beauregard felt the deep and growing threat of bloodlust settling into the muscles of his jaw. It was not difficult to determine where the disturbance was coming from.

The entrance of the club would be uncharacteristically easy to access, primarily because a crowd of people was pouring out of it as if the building was on fire. There was no need to hold back in strength in the chaos; he shoved panicked bodies with supernatural force, sending some staggering to the ground to be trampled on by other idiots.

Ophelia hadn't had the smoothest time within Eventide. Her incident with Aiden was perhaps the most notable, if entirely hushed, incident the clutch had faced. And now, what he expected to be a polite check-in had turned somehow into violence. He felt something uncomfortable near guilt for that, but it had seemed fucking reasonable enough to let someone else handle poking their head into some club to find what idiot was lurking there.

Whatever rogue this was, it wouldn't be fucking surviving. He pressed forward into the crowd with an aura of negation, very aware of the many powers that could cause him problems. Let some dumb cunt try to knock him into dead sleep.

The shrieks of two vampires in bloodlust were smothered enough by the screaming of patrons and the still pounding music, but Beauregard pushed nearer, knowing if nothing else to move in the opposite direction of the crowd.

hi i'm warning 1


It was luck that she only managed scratches on her throat from the other, but as her claws hooked into the shoulder and the approaching presence went utterly, brainlessly ignored, Pippa slathered her sloppy self in what victory she'd managed.

Using her grip to jerk the other closer to her, she sought now to close her overlarge dagger fangs into the other's neck. She wasn't even edible!

The moron could have died laughing.

hit what the fuck


 It was a feeling, not something she could see - but it was some vague sort of comfort all the same. A presence that she knew like a familiar signature on paper - and yeah, this whole mess could have spelled trouble for her in the long run, but she wasn't thinking about that right then. Then, there, she was thinking about the vampire that was clearly trying to bite her - that was biting her.

Had to say, it wasn't a familiar sensation after so long, not like riding a bike at all.

 She was shrill, loud as she thrashed, clenching her teeth as she went to grab her by the back of the neck like an unruly animal. Thrashing as she tried to pull her back and curled her fingers as deep as she could into the side of her neck.



Nearer still, nearer still, and he could feel the strikes of pain and smell the blood. Around tables, elbowing through the last group. And then there was clarity: some blonde monster chomping onto Ophelia like a good fucking meal, and the latter woman trying to claw her off.

There was a grand temptation to follow into his own bloodlust, and there was an ugly twitch of his lip, a temptation to flash fangs that hadn't even formed yet. But there was something more important here than sheer violence. It was difficult to kill a moving vampire. All manner of clawing and shaking and tearing would leave the woman still capable of clawing with however many limbs remained attached to her body.

There was the need to put a faster end to this, to knock the bitch into dead sleep and finish her off where she could not wrap her teeth around one of his ankles. But this was not an ability he had great practice with, and as he sought to do it here, he struggled with is focus, not wanting to knock both unconscious.

Perhaps getting a grip on her would help focus his energy into one specific body.

Beauregard moved to grab a fist of her hair, to feel what little, wispy power she could offer to him and focus on it. Ripping her back had the potential for great danger, to merely pull Ophelia's throat out along with the woman's teeth.

So instead he merely held her with one hand with enough force to risk ripping scalp, and unless some fucking miracle occurred to save her, he would find the focus amid the screaming and the blood and his own urge to give some ugly hiss and properly knock her into a final dead sleep within seconds.

hit, warning tuh


Her unpalatable prey thrashed and writhed, and even supernatural dagger monster teeth couldn't necessarily keep an iron grip; but she sure did try!

Pippa the goblin felt a harsh grip pushing against the back of her neck, but it wouldn't be until she felt the grasp into her hair that she properly released, screaming and writhing. Now, now would have her time to flee, but all the sense in the world had abandoned her when she had the chance, and now even the bloodlusted goblin knew this was the end.

So she thrashed, and writhed and struggled against him in the last few seconds she had, twist as much as she could to aim cruel and sloppy scratches at his arm and his chest, not even realizing this was the vampire who had offered her a home to begin with.

And then Pippa's seconds were up, and she fell limp into a dead sleep coma, a loser through and through.

 It was a troublesome predicament, enough sense of self-preservation to know not to push her back with a vengeance. She tightened her hold until she shook, an inhuman rumble of a sound when she finally released. It was only then that she really noticed the actual help, twisting to drag herself from under the blonde. She thought to round and go for her face, tear it off in strips like old wallpaper. She didn't though, more burgundy than not between her blood and that of the mystery woman.

 She looked about, stole a sideways glance to the overturned tables and abandoned stretch of the bar as some writhing and wild streak of thought focused on the idea of a meal. But she stood her ground, the tiniest shrapnel of rational thought coming alongside his arrival as she dripped old blood onto the once polish floors.

TW for gore

Beauregard was not a man who killed with glee. He was certainly not a man who made any habit of slaying vampires. Most of the violence in his life happened as the result of some feeding gone wrong. Startled at the wrong time, fangs turned to daggers, a drunken haze of bloodshed.

As she clawed at him, hooked fingers tearing through the sleeves of his shirt and into cool flesh beneath, he watched with widened eyes, mouth opening in a pained, hitched gasp. It was no dignified, masculine sound, but only an idiot would be injured often enough not to react honestly to it. Violence would be easy in this moment, a fist clenching her hair, ugly claws making simple work of his flesh.

But in a matter of seconds, she drooped, already a corpse in his hand. Lights flashed against her pale skin, shining off the blood slicked on all three of them. It would be easy to leave her like this. This was where the death of a vampire and the death of a human varied so. He could be inspired to a panicked rage by the dying squalls of a living thing. But here, as she slumped enough in his grip that he leaned forward slightly, it was so simple to consider her already taken care of.

And yet.

And yet, here he was, for it all a god. As he snapped the consciousness from her, he could equally press a force down against Ophelia, not to smother her into a cadaver's slumber, but instead to pull her from any remaining feral instincts of bloodlust as he had from the teeth of this doomed bitch in his grasp.

He felt terribly powerful, hand trembling where it tangled in blonde hair for the shocking pain of his wounds, blood running down his sleeves. He was hurt, true. He was hurt, but he was a force of fucking nature, a man who could take so much with his mere presence.

That knowledge bolstered him to finish it properly, reaching his free hand into his pocket, pulling from it one of the silver knives he carried now for shifters. It was not a terrifically long blade; such was the reality of something he could keep practically in the pocket of dress slacks.

In retrospect, as he flicked it open, holding her still in an extended arm, he did not know if this would properly kill her. If it didn't, she would die in a sunlit hospital somewhere. It was difficult to think far enough ahead to recognize the potential pitfalls of such a choice.

There was not joy in the act, and truthfully, he found it disgusting. But power made it easier, made it more remote, made this faintly familiar woman less a person and more an animal. A rabid thing he had no choice but to put down.

Cutting her throat would do nothing. Severing a spine would require more cutting than he had expertise. He certainly wouldn't stand here hacking off a head for the next ten minutes. There was a lighter with him, but he would not burn a vampire where he could be seen. The stakes were simply too high that the knowledge would be passed along somehow.

Holding the knife tight in his grip, he crouched beside her, letting her slump against the floor. There was a near gentleness to it, but he was simply trying to obscure what would follow as much as possible.

He heard the crack of skull as he plunged the knife in with sharp and sudden force. It would enter just above and forward from her ear. There was nearly no resistance within, no sense of the soft tissue inside as he scrambled it with a rocking of the blade.

It was surprisingly clean when he removed it, any brain matter swiped away by the exit from her skull. He would repeat it, then, crackling in, shifting, shimmying, blending up whatever it could slice and reach. A couple inches away to ensure some new mess.

Once more, a third hole, and he sought to twist the knife, holding her head still against its natural inclination to move to adjust to the strain. He could hear some squeak, some splinter, before deciding this wasn't the most practical route. A few more seesaws of the blade, and it was done.

A brain dead vampire wouldn't survive long. Even if she healed faster than was typical, she would wake a fucking vegetable if she survived that long at all. It was a pity that he couldn't see if she was healing, the wounds obscured by her wasted pale hair.

The whole affair took at most fifteen seconds, though the stillness of her body and the break in the immediate violence seemed to slow it all.

Closing the knife and tucking it into his pocket, Beauregard looked to Ophelia with an absence of pleasure in his face as he rose. She would need to be healed. Much of this could easily go public. What a fucking mess.

"Stay near behind me. My car is close."

The whole building was still so vibrant and loud, and the buzz of several emergency exits was audible the still roaring bass. What a lovely idea.

He would lead them to the nearest one, feeling some returning disgust to the thought of his own deed.

Violence was so ugly when it was done soberly, personally.

 The transformation back to civilian was painful, more so than normal - a side effect she chose to believe of her wounds and the waning adrenaline that had made them tolerable. She rubbed her jaw, cringed as if she'd smelt something putrid at the sound of metal scraping against what she assumed to be bone. Not watching of course, but not avoiding it either. The satisfaction she'd imagined she would have felt was ruined by a brief but resounding sort of clarity.

This was a fucking disaster. This, in part at least, was her fucking disaster.

 Would it have been so hard to fucking leave? Would it have been so terrible to hunt in literally any other part of Mountainside? The idea that the girl had dug her heels in baffled her, drew up a new rekindling of anger as she turned when spoken to, watched him and nodded in lieu of speaking. It felt like less talking was best for now, a slight limp to her step as she followed a couple of paces behind him. She kept her head tilted down, hair draping over the cut up side of her face, chest, and shoulder and throat and thigh and - everything fucking ached.

There would be plenty of time to complain about it - privately, and certainly not until they were good and away from this disaster.

Silence felt like the best option. The walk to the exit and to the car would feel very long, though it was hardly a minute's journey.

He needed to send several text messages, something that seemed almost funny as he considered it now. Driving straight home or straight to the planetarium seemed unwise on the off chance they were for some reason tailed. And yet, trying to find some obscure place to hide away, bloodied and bruised, seemed an even more unpleasant option.

These were thoughts he could ponder on further once they were driving. Beauregard would open the car door for her and close it as well when she was ready. There was no need to tear out from the parking lot. Undoubtedly, the police were already on their way and speeding through this shit would likely only draw attention and perhaps a pedestrian death.

Reversing from the parking spot as if he hadn't just put a knife in a girl's skull and mixed up the contents, he was careful. Blood oozed down his arm toward his hand, the result of a deep wound rather than an active heart.

"I'm going to drive us south and find a place to park and heal you. If I'm certain no one is following us, we'll go to the planetarium."

Spoken evenly, instruction for himself as much as her.

His birthday was soon, he remembered suddenly. Beauregard was going to be wounded on his birthday.

 She was a perfect follower all the way to the care, a murmured thank you when he grabbed the door for her but nothing else as she slid into the back seat and tried to contain the mess as much as she could. "Understood." Drive south, maybe a heal - something to look forward to lessening the mess on hand. She laid her head back, exhausted but awake all the same as she closed her eyes and listened to a whole lot of nothing.

 "She was presumably hunting, she'd approached a psychic and they were chatting." She watched him in the rear view, keeping it concise as she tested the waters with at least some vague explanation. "I intercepted, of course. She yelled and started stomping her feet - I tried to suggest her into leaving without a fuss and then she lost control."

He could smell the blood in his car. It was powerfully unpleasant even as he typically avoided breathing. These were the moments that would spark eventual paranoia in him, lying in bed during the daylight hours, deciding he needed to trade his car in again, as if it would keep the world off his trail.

Beauregard would fall into quiet until she fell into explanation. He listened, picturing it, the absurdity of it all. Putting a knife into her had been a mercy.

"Some aren't meant to survive death to become a vampire," he said with audible distaste. "I think I met her here before. Invited her to join. She turned the offer down."

His sleeves were shredded. She'd ruined his fucking shirt. And his skin. At least one of these would heal. Stupid blonde bitch. The outrage rolled in waves.

He took a deep breath in and out, a practiced gesture for times of great frustration.

"I apologize for not arriving sooner. It seems not a single fucking rogue can be trusted these days."

If he had to dead sleep each one of them and scramble their soft little brains, he supposed he would.

 "Sounds about right." She shifted a little to avoid unnecessarily bloodying her seatbelt, closed her eyes and sighed. "She acted like this was a common occurrence in her life, like this wasn't the first time a vampire approached her." Her face hurt and her chest hurt and if she moved her neck more than a hair it felt like she was tearing the wound further and her head might just flop over.

"It's fine. I tried to restrain her but once she had frenzied it was like holding onto an eel." Slick with blood, fast and angry enough to make up for what she lacked. Impressive, if it wasn't aimed so entirely wrong - a whole lot of talent shot straight down the drain. "... What happens now?"

Holding onto an eel. He could picture it vividly, the way bloodlust inspired such a physical frenzy of thrashing. He glanced ahead, looking for somewhere nondescript and quiet to park, to try to catch the breath of his thoughts.

Her question was natural and fair, though he found himself struggling with it.

"If I'm being honest, I don't entirely know," he said, scanning the quiet parking lot of some retail complex, turning the car into the entrance. Enough vehicles lingered here to provide a sort of cover rather than sitting alone as the only damn thing for a mile.

"Likely this will end up on the news. We'll discover how much in the coming days. Across our group, we have enough to suggest away most police inquiry, if it were to come to us."

A slight sigh, more an expression of tiredness than frustration.

"I imagine hunting may be a bit more challenging for a time. I can ensure you have meals at the planetarium as you heal. Living ones, not... insulting blood bags."

With his nerves somewhat frayed, it was difficult not to be honest in his distaste for that particular route. Putting the car in park, he unbuckled his seatbelt somewhat gingerly.

"I'm going to send a few quick messages to make sure we have the proper entourage waiting for us at the planetarium, and I can get started on what I can of healing."

Perhaps the order was wrong, but he knew he would be in an unpleasant enough mood after sapping life from himself for her that accomplishing such tasks now was wiser.

 It wasn't like she was going anywhere, so if he didn't mind the slow yet steady syrup drip of blood in his back seat - she didn't mind the extra few minutes of wait. Her gaze turned out the window, watching a whole lot of peaceful nothing and exhaling as she thought over the trouble to come. Hopefully, it would, by some strange grace, not become some giant ordeal. Doubtful in today's day and age but - optimism was hard to avoid when wedged into an unfavorable corner.

 "Thank you." Which felt strange to say considering her current state of being, but the plan of things to come was still a comfort. She wasn't particularly emotional, not the first to express how she felt unless it related to a matter of debate. Still, this felt like a good moment for it.

 "I know I'm not the most vocal about it but -" She waved it off, saving the group acknowledgment for each of them as they cropped up in this disaster. Already setting her mind to trying to remember not to apologize for it. She closed her eyes, prepared to settle into silence unless he chose to comment on any of it.

The text messages would take a few moments, but he could multitask well enough to speak.

"Thank you," he said, glancing to her for some greater sincerity. Beauregard was already texting sloppily, blood smeared on his phone. How irritating. He said it aside, shredded sleeve flapping for the effort.


"This could have gone far worse. We have a number of fledglings she could have tangled with and we'd have a bar full of corpses for it."

This was honest. He liked Ophelia quite a lot despite what was a limited number of interactions. She was reasonable, sharp, and clearly capable.

Looking to her face, then her throat, he decided the latter was somewhat more dire. Beauregard reached a hand carefully toward the wounds, knowing it would be unpleasant even if it was an effort of healing.

"You are very worthy of a soldier's role, if you'd like it on some official capacity."

A slight smile, then.

"Though I think you've earned a break from any related duties for a bit first."

 When he reached back to aid her, she leaned forward a bit and hissed at the sting as she gently pressed into the contact, kept her eyes down and watched her feet. Compliments, while well appreciated, went down like a sour sort of medicine - a language that she didn't speak so well. "I appreciate it, I'd gladly like to take you up on the offer." For that, she glanced up, a lot of the fun and pleasure sucked straight from the evening - though she did manage the tiniest little lift of a half grin.

"I am, however, definitely requesting a couple of weeks off in any official capacity in order to recuperate."

 It wasn't immediate and it wasn't perfect, but the ache of her neck dulled a bit in time, slow to pull back when he did pull away and exhaling unnecessarily as she watched the road when he started up the car and headed for the planetarium. A sort of relief that felt ... strange, but welcomed. Something especially safe while she prepared for all the poking and prodding she assumed she would soon endure.

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