Daniel Stacy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
daniel_stacy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
birthright_rpg2013-09-02 05:07 pm
daniel_stacy) wrote in birthright_rpg2013-09-02 05:07 pm
Hunger Pangs
Daniel was starving.
No, really.
If asked, the vampire would swear he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Spending time with Holly was akin to fasting at a dinner table piled with sizzling, juicy steaks. He jogged to his car with the biggest ‘fang boner’ of his life, his face morphing into demonic features and remaining as such for the entirety of the drive into Las Vegas, where he hoped to arrive in time for the casinos to unleash drunken, giddy tourists onto the sidewalk. He parked his car and struck out on foot.
Where, where, where are you going? Get your game face on. Not that one, the pretty one.
Great. Now he talked to himself.
Screw it. He didn’t have the patience for sweet talk. He abandoned the casino plan and swung into a parking garage stairwell, taking the steps three at a time. Sooner or later, a woman who dressed like an extra from Knots Landing would toddle to her car, inebriated and ripe for the sucking. Daniel stopped on level four and meandered between the parked automobiles, in search of one with the hallmarks of womanhood: lipstick tube, emery board, hairbrush. He shielded his eyes and peered into the driver’s side window of a silver Miata.
[Thread: Open to Theresa]
No, really.
If asked, the vampire would swear he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Spending time with Holly was akin to fasting at a dinner table piled with sizzling, juicy steaks. He jogged to his car with the biggest ‘fang boner’ of his life, his face morphing into demonic features and remaining as such for the entirety of the drive into Las Vegas, where he hoped to arrive in time for the casinos to unleash drunken, giddy tourists onto the sidewalk. He parked his car and struck out on foot.
Where, where, where are you going? Get your game face on. Not that one, the pretty one.
Great. Now he talked to himself.
Screw it. He didn’t have the patience for sweet talk. He abandoned the casino plan and swung into a parking garage stairwell, taking the steps three at a time. Sooner or later, a woman who dressed like an extra from Knots Landing would toddle to her car, inebriated and ripe for the sucking. Daniel stopped on level four and meandered between the parked automobiles, in search of one with the hallmarks of womanhood: lipstick tube, emery board, hairbrush. He shielded his eyes and peered into the driver’s side window of a silver Miata.
[Thread: Open to Theresa]
no subject
He reached up and squeezed the nape of his neck, then lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. “Yeah. Sure. Why the hell not?” Maybe there was something in it for Daniel, too. Five years vamped was a heck of a lot longer than eleven months. If he could pick her brain and glean any survival info, it’d be worth it for the next time D decided to use him as a body shield.
“It’s 1217 Flamingo. Jump in the elevator and hit ‘B’. Just…” He grimaced. “Just don’t bite the upstairs neighbors. You’re gonna want to because they're pricks but it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
no subject
Theresa had made a mental note of the address because she had nothing to write on, and this was a good sign. She did need a place to crash where she'd be safe and anonymous until she could get above ground, and she really did think Daniel was okay. She'd been green herself once, it wasn't a crime.
And this one probably wouldn't ask her to blow him for the privilege of sleeping on his sofa, not if he was wrapped up with some human.
"It's five minutes til two," the brunette told her companion. "I'm probably going to be out of here if the owner of this car turns out to be a straight male, so I can leave you to your dinner. Take their cash, leave the plastic. I hope you know at least that much."
no subject
Actually, he was, because half the time he forgot to strip their wallets.
Daniel pushed off the Dodge. “Adios." He saluted. "Good luck with your sales or your killing, whatever comes first.” He set off in the direction of the stairwell. Last call meant more than just wasted tourists; it meant tired employees meandering to their cars.
He had an appointment with the bottom level of the deck.
no subject