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Post by Daniel on Mar 3, 2011 5:41:37 GMT -5
"What if..."
Before he could even utter the thought, he bit his lip. Did he actually almost say that? Considering that he never would've done so to Marianne, want it nor no. But he knew perfectly well that Tuberculosis, especially these days, was a death sentence.
He shook his head at his own thoughts. Besides, he had a bad track record with fledglings.
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Post by Amélie on Mar 3, 2011 9:23:59 GMT -5
"What?" It came out half-cough, and her speech was labored. "What if you killed me now? Please."
It wasn't what he'd been suggesting, but frankly it was the kindest thing, she thought. She'd reached that funny point where it didn't seem to matter much, as if it were one of the stories her mother used to tell her. She drew her knees to her chest.
((Adoptive mother obvs, she was like a day old the last time she saw Marianne))
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Post by Daniel on Mar 3, 2011 15:52:17 GMT -5
Daniel twitched at the suggestion he kill her, his mind going back to a memory he'd rather not go over at the moment.
"Well...it's a death of a sort. But it could also save you more agony and restore you."
In his mind, he was still arguing with himself about this, something that rarely occurred: although not completely irrational, Daniel's usual mode was one of impulse.
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Post by Amélie on Mar 3, 2011 15:54:56 GMT -5
"Spit it out," she coughed, moaning a little. The aches were beginning to set in again, and soon she'd be wracked with pain. She didn't quite understand the words he was saying, but anything to keep the pain away...
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Post by Daniel on Mar 3, 2011 18:46:57 GMT -5
"I recall you being aware of a certain...peculiatrity of Parisian nights."
So saying, he briefly showed his fangs.
"I can quite honestly say it's not such a bad thing to be."
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Post by Amélie on Mar 5, 2011 23:00:57 GMT -5
Her eyes, startling against the dark circles beneath them, and as always highlighted by dark hair, were instantly alert. She tensed and was suddenly watching him closely. Not that it would help, she knew, if he decided to sink his teeth into her neck. At this point it was more prey instinct than actual will to live.
They were damned souls, weren't they? Abominations? Then again, she didn't think God would want her too much now anyway.
To be powerful, though, after a life where she had always been powerless, to be indestructible after a life filled with pain, to make all the hurting simply go away...
Her hands had begun to shake with deprivation. Perhaps it was cowardly, but she didn't want to face this. She nodded gingerly.
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Post by Daniel on Mar 6, 2011 0:24:20 GMT -5
For a moment, he hesitated, her resemblance to Marianne and the feelings attached to that at war with other desires. Finally, heaving a deep sigh, he approached her. In the past, he would've mentioned off-handedly that it couldn't be undone, but he knew perfectly well that there actually were ways to reverse. Not easy to find, but they existed.
"No more illness, no more aging, no injury can slow you down. You need only worry about the sun and the flames."
And losing your head, but he could mention that later. Sitting on the bed beside her, he gathered her in his arms. Light, and so disarmingly fragile...disarmingly familiar.
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Post by Amélie on Mar 6, 2011 1:36:52 GMT -5
Her breath hitched involuntarily, not expecting him to come so close, and unnerved at the whole situation. In addition, she was a little jumpy anyway.
For someone who looked so like her mother, though, Amelie was another woman entirely. There was no naivete and little softness to her. She did not like to be vulnerable, and so she steeled herself. She reached up to pull the hair away from her neck.
"What should I do?"
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Post by Daniel on Mar 6, 2011 2:22:29 GMT -5
The inetivable bloodlust rose up like an unwelcome guest, and he swiftly fought it back down. Losing his head this time around would be extremely bad.
"After I take your blood, you take some from me. And then there'll be a wave of discomfort as you change, but believe me, it's all worth a few moments of being uncomfortable."
So saying, he bent down, biting into her neck, holding back on the strength so it wasn't as bad as it could be.
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Post by Amélie on Mar 6, 2011 13:42:54 GMT -5
She gasped in discomfort, although she supposed that for fangs sinking into her neck-- there were fangs sinking into her neck. Well that wasn't something she'd ever expected to say.
After she got as used to it as was possible, she felt the strength draining out of her. He could easily snap her in half, she realized. She was so tiny... everything started to fade. It was rather a nice sensation, the fading.
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Post by Daniel on Mar 6, 2011 15:51:14 GMT -5
Ah, that sensation. It would never get old. With less reluctance than he normally would have, he let go of her neck--it was that crucial point, now, and he wasn't going to screw it up. Balancing her with one arm, he slashed with his fangs at the wrist of the other, and his blood started to flow freely.
"Your turn." He said, sounding a bit hoarse as he held it up to her.
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Post by Amélie on Mar 6, 2011 18:33:23 GMT -5
She could barely open her eyes. The air smelled coppery and sour, and she made a feeble attempt to push his wrist away out of instinct. It took a momentous force of will to give her the strength to sink her teeth in. She had expected the taste to mirror the smell, but... it wasn't the same. Strength flooded back and she grabbed his arm to bring it closer.
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Post by Daniel on Mar 6, 2011 20:19:54 GMT -5
He let it go for a moment, but when he started to feel weakened he gently pulled his wrist away.
"Enough. That's all you need."
For now.
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Post by Amélie on Mar 6, 2011 20:24:09 GMT -5
((skip to the good bits? a distressing proportion of her posts seem to be "PAIN PAIN HURTING SNARK" and i am bored of that haha))
She'd have protested if the pain hadn't come back--but a different pain, a burning pain that felt as if it were somehow cleansing her.
Things were changing.
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Post by Daniel on Mar 6, 2011 22:31:59 GMT -5
((Yes ma'am))
Daniel waited until the transformation had passed before trying to speak to her. Having gone through it--twice--he knew you weren't really in any shape to focus on anything but what was happening to you.
"Better?"
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