birthright_rpg | Indecision

Entry tags:

daniel,
holly

Indecision

There was a light positioned over the Kay's office that illuminated a square of orange. Holly was standing in that square, examining the vending machine's offerings. She had gone down to the ice machine with her little plastic bucket. It sat on the ground next to her feet as she sorted through the small pile of change in her palm.

The brunette found two quarters, deposited them, and pressed the rectangular button for an orange. She heard the machine come to life, but then it stalled. Holly bent to check for the soda. "Again?"

She banged her hand against the machine in a halfhearted attempt to get the thing moving again.

Since her memorable night out at the club, Holly hadn't strayed far from her motel room. She flipped through the few television channels, paged idly through some magazines, and re-painted her toenails about 5 times.

Holly had settled on emerald green.

Now she stood there, not wanting to go back to her room, and not wanting to venture out into Searchlight. She stared at the taunting, magnified picture of a Coke, beads of condensation sweating down the can.

"I hate you."

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“Aha!”

Daniel’s voice boomed off the stucco surface of the hotel. The parking lot was hemmed in with a structure made of the same buff-colored material, which he guessed was meant to make the place look like a Spanish mission with wall unit air conditioning. The real effect was magnified noise.

“Found you.” He pointed at her. “Only took me three trips. And they say I’m not a natural hunter! I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

He stepped between Holly and the Coke machine and rested his spine against the box. He leaned his weight on it and tipped it backwards until it struck the building. A can of something – no guarantees on the variety – tumbled through the inner workings of the machine. Being a vampire made it easier to rock it, but Daniel was no stranger to stolen snack change. In college, one of the dorm machines always refused to relinquish his Doritos.

Holly straightened, turning at the sound of his voice. "Oh. Hi." She watched, interested, as he pushed the metal box. She leaned down to retrieve whatever had fallen. Dr.Pepper. It would do.

She popped open the can. "I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

The brunette tilted her head, soda mid-path to her mouth. "Wait, what do you mean hunter? Did you track my footsteps in the sand, or something?"

“No. It’s much grosser than that.”

Daniel tapped his nose. When vamps turned, he had learned, they talked a lot of trash about blood tasting as good as ambrosia, food of the gods, but the crescendo of his olfactory senses had surprised Daniel. It should’ve been obvious, taste and smell being tied together, but his ability to hone in on fragrances shot through the roof. After changing, the scent of blood made him salivate like Pavlov’s dog. Once he caught Holly’s scent, it was easy to narrow down where she rented a room; the 13-square-mile town had two motels.

“I mean, you don’t smell gross. That’s probably impossible,” he reasoned. “But you do have a smell and it was on my shirt.”

He watched her hold the Dr. Pepper can. A dribble of moisture found its way to her skin and began rolling down the back of her hand. He doubt she noticed.

He snapped back to attention. “Now you’re picturing me sniffing everything. That’s not sexy. Did you notice me rescuing you again?”

She nudged the empty ice bucket with her toe. Holly had forgotten what she needed it for. "I suppose that makes sense. And I don't think it's gross. It just seems...practical."

The brunette wondered what Daniel had recognized on his shirt. What had she been wearing? Clothes from home, washed at her father's house because the washing machine at her flatmate's never seemed to work right.

Holly looked from the can, to Daniel. "Funny how that happens."

Daniel pulled on his earlobe and watched her fidget with the ice bucket. Another thing his nose told him: Holly wasn’t scared. Whatever he said in the alley convinced her he wasn’t going to bite her – a feat, considering he wasn’t sure he could keep the promise long-term. He had never tried.

“I’m not the smartest guy around, but it just occurred to me. Maybe you’re setting me up.” He waved a hand. “Hear me out. Your wallet gets stolen, I jump in to buy your earrings. The machine takes your quarters, I get your can of soda. Now I’m out here in East Bum-fuck…” He indicated the bleached parking lot, the empty highway. “What’s your plan?”

Holly laughed, the bucket finally tipping over from her boot pushing it. "You don't trust me?" Her eyes drifted up, meeting his. Chaos and coincidence had always interested her. She liked to set things in motion and watch what happened next. This felt different.

"I don't plan, never have. I do things, and they either end up okay, or I get into loads of trouble. People always tell me, one day I'll get myself into trouble I can't get out of."

She brushed stray strands of hair out of her eyes. "Don't worry. You're safe with me." She gave him an ironic smile.

“So you say, so you say,” Daniel mused. Balancing on one foot, he stretched his leg and stuck his toe in the bucket, setting it upright. The whole exchange reminded him of playing soccer. “I was taught that women are always trouble. But I, too, am I risk taker, and since I’ve already gotten myself dead,” he rubbed his chest, where his heart no longer beat, “What’s the harm in hanging out with you? Just don’t move up to lost cars. I’m not made out of money.”

Actually, that was getting to be a sticky point with Deanna. He needed cash. She didn’t want to part with hers. Kept insisting he make his own way in the world. When he asked how the hell he was supposed to get a job with an expired driver’s license, she laughed in his face and suggested that, with a mindset like that, Daniel was doomed to give handies in men’s public bathrooms.

So far, he had no better ideas.

He didn’t like the idea of stealing credit cards off dead tourists. The cops would track him down in no time. He’d wind up frying in the one jail cell in Nevada that came with a window.

Holly crossed her arms, smirking. "You're lucky I don't take offense easily. Though from what I've gathered, it seems one woman in particular was trouble, am I right?" She smiled sweetly. "Me? I'm innocent."

Uncrossing her arms, a realization seemed to dawn on her. "That reminds me. I was at this club in Vegas, and a lady gave me earrings. Pearl ones. It was all a bit mental, actually. I meant to give them back, but I left them in the pocket of this jacket that I stole..."

She trailed off. "I think she was trying to have it off with me. I declined."

One? I wish. He decided not to recap his long history of bad choices in women, like that time he wound up with a two-day hangover and a prescription for Amoxicillin.

“Have it off with you?” Feeling rueful, Daniel shook his head. “Sorry, I need a translation. Is that British for sex? Sex for earrings?”

Since she wasn’t drinking the Dr. Pepper, he borrowed it, rotated the can, and sipped. The bubbles went up his nose. It tasted the same as always, but he couldn’t remember why he once liked it.

"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes. "British for sex." She watched him drink. "Can you taste that? Can you taste anything besides, you know, blood?"

Holly had a lot of questions, and Daniel would probably answer them without brushing her off. She appreciated that.

The brunette gestured to the motel. "And would I have to invite you in? Or does it not count because I don't really live here? Can you fly?"

“I can taste it; it just doesn’t do anything for me. Like you and women, I hope.” Daniel raised the can and saluted her, wearing what he hoped was a cheeky grin rather than a sleazy one. Often, the only way he could tell was whether or not he got slapped. “Sorry, the redhead, the one who turned me… only into the ladies. A quality I ignored.

“Also, I have… no idea.” He rubbed the top of his head and did a visual inspection of the hotel wall, as if it might provide clues to the metaphysical conundrum. “It’s a residence, see,” he gestured at a doorknob, “But it’s temporary. Which makes you wonder about efficiency apartments. Short-term leases. People who live out of their cars.”

He scowled. “Why don’t I know this stuff?”

She picked up the ice bucket, brushing some grit off of the plastic liner. "Seems like the one who made you into a vampire should have taught you. Creature of the Night 101."

Oddly, Holly felt a bit sorry for him. It must have been a lonely way to be. "The one I met had red hair. And a really dirty mouth. I've been swearing like a sailor since first form, so that's saying a lot."

The brunette slid her hand inside her jeans pocket, felt her key still resting there. It was a completely mad thought. It was the kind of thing daft bints did in horror films.

"Do you want to try?"

“Yeah!”

Whoa, man. Over-eager. Dial it back to a respectable six.

“I mean, for science. Right?” He spread his hands. “I won’t explode or anything.” That much, he knew. He had tested out the invitation thing his first week as a vampire, tried to get into the apartment of a kid he’d witnessed pissing on his car tire and chased around the building. Just within reach of the little shit, Daniel ran into the barrier. It was trippy, like hitting a patch of thick air. No admission.

As he waited for Holly to make a move, another set of gears began to turn in his head. Redhead in Las Vegas. Filthy mouth. Liked girls. Pearl earrings. He tried to think to himself, the last time he’d seen Deanna, had she been wearing hers?

He got a weird feeling. As he filed in place behind Holly and her ice bucket, he caught himself sniffing her hair, trying to pick up a trace of his sire.

"Right. Science is important." Holly turned and made her way up the stairs leading to the second floor rooms. When she reached the right number, she fished her key out of her pocket.

She turned back to face him. "Okay, two things. Not biting me is still the rule. Though I suppose you could have easily done it out here than in there. And secondly, I haven't been the tidiest."

The brunette opened the door. Inside, the television was on, muted. Her suitcase was splayed open on the floor, clothes spilling out. On top was the jacket she had taken from the club.

Holly stepped over the threshold, then turned around. "Now you."

Daniel raised his right hand. “I solemnly swear that I will not bite you.” He crossed his fingers in the pocket of his jeans. Old habits died hard.

Tonight. I won’t bite her tonight. What if she bumps into a table and nicks her leg or something? Am I gonna handle myself or am I gonna drop down and lick the wound like a dog? I could see that. Jesus. Let’s hope she’s not clumsy.

He took an oversized step and straddled the threshold. Nothing happened. “Ha. Look at that.” He completed his entrance and shut the door to keep the bugs out. From the entryway, the vampire took stock of the room. Seventies aesthetic, double bed, rabbit ears on the TV, a suitcase barfing clothes onto the carpet. He caught himself trying to spot a bra.

Nice. You’re a real pro.

“Alright, well. Congrats. You’ve taught me something my sire didn’t. Her name’s Deanna, by the way.” He tried to sound casual as he bandied the name about.

She sat down on the bed. She played with a fraying thread on the pastel floral comforter. When she was done processing that, she finally looked up at Daniel.

"That's really great. Because I spent the night at a Deanna's hotel suite. Yeah." Holly laughed, grabbing her cigarettes from the battered nightstand.

"I spent the night with a vampire, and all I was worried about was her trying to get into my knickers. Brilliant, Holiday."

Edited 2013-09-01 01:26 (UTC)

Daniel balked.

“You— what?!”

He searched the faded wallpaper in the room in a futile attempt to make that compute. Deanna, his nightmare of a sire, had lured Holly into her hotel suite. Overnight. He hadn’t even done that. Wow, that was upsetting. The worse part, he immediately suspected that Mommy Dearest had done it on purpose. Had she seen him with Holly? Smelled him on her? Found out that her progeny spent time with a human and didn’t bite her?

All of that was interesting, sure, but the baffling part? Holly had lived to tell.

“Wait a minute!” Wait a goddamned minute! He squatted in front of the brunette and lifted her hair, and then he tipped her face back and forth. No bite marks. Unless they were somewhere else…

“So she didn’t bite you?”

Please tell me you didn't let Deanna bite you under the clothes.

Edited 2013-09-01 02:05 (UTC)

She stared at him, smoothing down her hair. Not that she quite minded him touching her, but it was a bit odd. "No, no biting. I slept on her couch. She seemed quite concerned about me, actually."

Holly cocked her head to the side. "Why are you so freaked out? She didn't seem so bad. A bit handsy at times, but..."

Daniel's words from before came back to her. Blood sluts. Right. "Oh."

She shook her head, catching his hand in midair. "I'll make sure to be more careful with whom I spend the night, in the future."

“Yes. Please do,” Daniel said.

Deanna was concerned. Ha! Yeah, right. She was never concerned about anyone but herself. Less than a week ago, she was offering him up as cannon fodder. Him! Her supposed 'son'.

“You! You are really insane!” he said, exasperated. “You sleep in strange people’s hotel rooms. You walk down dark alleys with men you just met. You let me in here!” He pointed at his chest and let his hand fall on his thigh with a light slap. “Not that I’m complaining about the last one... or the second one, but what are you doing? Do you want to be a vampire? Because Deanna…” He laughed. “Deanna. You’re lucky she didn’t make a scarf out of your lower intestines, then give it to me as a present.”

"Ew."

Holly wrinkled her nose at that.

"I get bored. I told you, I don't plan anything. I do things that feel good. It's a rush." She shrugged. "I don't particularly want to be a vampire, no."

Then she smiled, because she couldn't help it. "Maybe I am insane, and you were right. I am setting you up. This is my evil lair."

From his crouch, Daniel looked around the motel room. There was a bad framed print of a cowboy on the wall, a collection of lamps illuminating the mottled condition of the carpet, and probably a King James Bible in the nightstand. “It does look pretty evil,” he admitted. As if to punctuate, a nearby tenant slammed a door and shouted, “Fuck!” at the top of her lungs.

“Nice neighbors,” he said. “Think they could sell me some coke? I’m kidding. Mostly kidding.”

"No, you've got it all wrong. I'm the coke dealer. An evil coke dealer. Yeah, when customers don't pay, they end up in the Mojave."

Holly smiled, gestured to him. "You can get up, you know. I feel like you're about to propose to me."

She put her cigarettes back down. "Plus, I kind of want to kiss you." The brunette listened as angry footsteps clomped past her door.

Daniel was confused. “Is that supposed to make me want to stand up?” He put on his best attempt at a British accent, gleaned from multiple viewings of the James Bond films. “Oh! Then by all means, I shall trot across the room where your lips aren’t.” He snorted lightly.

“Come here.”

Daniel gripped the back of her neck and pulled her to his mouth. She was warmer by twenty degrees and she tasted like sugar and lip gloss and cigarettes, a peculiar combination that was strangely appealing. She tasted alive. His forehead tried to shift and his gums strained, but by the skin of his teeth, he clung to his human features.

Don’t bite her. Do not bite her. Jesus, I really want to bite her. I bet she tastes incredible. Listen to that pulse… How can I be this hungry? I ate at 4 a.m.

He heard rumbling and knew he was in trouble. He pulled back. “Shit!” He touched his face, expecting the ugly mask he’d come to know and love, even if he couldn’t see it in a mirror. Nope, still human.

“Did my stomach just growl?”

It didn't feel weird; she couldn't tell by kissing him that he was any different than human. What she noticed was a slight flutter somewhere in her stomach. Did he make her nervous? Holly couldn't decide for sure.

She pulled back, too, blinking. "I didn't hear anything."

"This isn't really precedent, is it? I mean, you feed off of people. But I think you like me. And I can't even come up with a way to explain it to myself. Like, I've never had the urge to make out with a steak."

Holly covered her eyes. "Did I just compare myself to steak?"

“I think you did.”

Daniel wanted to kiss her again, but instead he backed off and sat against the wall. He draped his arms over his kneecaps.

“You’re not a steak. When I feed it’s… it’s not hunger like you think of it. That part’s just a means to an end. It’s predatory. Imagine if you were driving down the road and you saw a cow in a pasture, and you were kind-of hungry but more importantly you just… had to have it. Had to. Had to chase that cow down, sink your teeth in and drink it into yourself, this life, this—I’m not helping.”

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them.

“Okay, it’s a very good-looking cow, and you want to eat it, but then the cow would be gone and… you’d have to find another cow.”

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