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 Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 4:36 pm
He gave off a light grunt at the ear being flicked, now both folding back against his midnight tresses. He wasn't in the mood, really, to be taunted, at the moment. Just wanted to sit. But that wasn't going to happen.
He let out a heavy sigh, "Would you believe me if I said I wasn't really a vampire?" He was. Just not the kind, he figured, Marks was used to.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 4:41 pm
...Shoot. Anything was possible. All he knew was that Samael smelled like death, and that entropy clung to him in a way he'd always associated with bloodsuckers in the past. It wasn't the necromancer's stench, no... and he wasn't going to get poetic enough to describe it, but it'd been familiar.
Still. Anything...
"Depends," Marks shrugged slightly, watching the ear for lack of anything else to pay attention to, "What do I get for listening?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 4:44 pm
"What do you want for listening?" Hey, he had been brought up to think that one should listen...or, rather, do whatever, without getting anything in return. But, hell, this was Marks, and this wasn't his childhood.
Yes, he had the stench of death. Maybe just as heavily as 'true' vampires, but that may just be a lasting stench from his old 'home'. Death was always there.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 4:47 pm
Well, he was kinda already getting what he really wanted - an explanation - so... enh, why not tack on something else. "Think it'd be just dandy to see you mugging a little old lady," he said at first, sounding most serious, "But it'd be even better if you could go out of your way to really kick off our little game with something spectacular. I'm thinking blood, guts, six o' clock news - make it special."
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 4:51 pm
He gave a huff. Lovely, something to completely go against his own thoughts, huh? b*****d.
"..Whatever," he replied, still resting his head to his shoulder, not bothering to sit up. He was quite comfortable, as it were.
"Yeah, yeah...blood, death," he snipped a bit, and revealed his eyes, turning his head a bit to view him from his peripheral vision, "I'm artificial. Noticed my pulse? Breathing? I hope you, at least, noticed a vampire with a pulse. I'm fake, pretty much a living person. But I need blood to live, at times." Though he starved himself of it quite often, tried to remove that quality of him..but, hey, he'd rather not die.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 4:58 pm
Hunh. Back where he'd come from, it'd been possible for a vampire to - with effort and concentration - blend in slightly with mortal society, working up a pulse, a relatively warm temperature, even breathing with practice (unlike those who'd never kicked the habit). Marks had just figured, seeing as they'd been surrounded by mortals in a bar....
Interesting.
"So this is just your hobby or something?" he said not a little derogatively, "The goth look, the blood, whatever." He knew that couldn't be it, what with the smell... but he couldn't let a good taunt go by.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 5:03 pm
"Oh, yes...because I love getting jabbed at by people like you," slightly bitter, but hey. He sat up, and brought a hand up to run into his own hair, brushing it out of his face. "It's best to stay like this, blends with most of the places I go. If I stick out, then I might just not appear again," he replied, tone a little less...aggressive.
No, he actually needed the pulse, the breathing. And he couldn't live completely off of blood. It'd make him ill.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 5:14 pm
"That's a mistake, sweetheart," Marks laughed, "There's no one quite like me."
But the way he spoke... Made it sound almost like he was afraid someone was after him. "What's gonna pick you off, anyway? Not like you're a real leech." Though you could've fooled me - and you did for a bit, he refrained from adding.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 5:21 pm
"..." He paused. Uh oh, he had let a bit too much slip. He frowned, and shook his head, "If I get noticed, then I'll be brought back...home." He replied, trying to make this sound half believable. It was..home. But not one that he wanted to return to, in any way.
"That's the reason. Not a real leech. But a fake one might be..worth more to these people."
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 5:38 pm
Treading on thin ice. Excellent. He couldn't wait to stomp straight through to the heart of the matter, however frozen it might be.
"Yuh huh? 'These people'?" Marks said with a tone of the skeptical reigning, "What's with the pauses and awkward frowns, Sammie?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 5:43 pm
Damnit.
"You like to pry, dont you?" He knew he couldn't stop him, though. He wrinkled his name, "I should make you bribe me for information," though something inside him told him to tell the demon. Why? ******** if he knew.
"You asked where these tattoos came from--I grew up..in a..different household. And ran away, so they're looking for me..and, uh. A few others. Siblings.." If they were even considered that.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 5:56 pm
"You must be interesting," he laughed, almost a warm chuckle - but again, Marks. And he didn't think he'd ever have to offer Samael anything to get what he wanted, though... enh, not exactly the right moment to say it.
But this whole sibling thing - hardly sounded like reality. "Siblings with guns trying to drag you back to an arranged marriage or something?" a roll of eyes, "That's as full a story as the Bible. What're you skipping?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 5:59 pm
"No, no...our..parents are looking for us. My siblings are around somewhere," siblings. Right. He wouldn't say how many, what they were...where they were. He half wished he knew where they were. Though, for some of them, he was glad he didn't.
"..Skipping?" He questioned. Damnit, Marks had to keep digging, didn't he? He wondered how he'd react when he found that half of this was bullshit. He didn't grow up in a ******** household, nor were they really siblings. More like cell mates. "Mm."
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 6:04 pm
"Still not doing it for me, Sammie," Marks said with an air of confession, eyebrows raised, "This is either evasion or outright bullshit - why don't you tell me?"
Sure, sometimes it was fun to go along and then catch somebody in a lie... but he was getting kind of impatient here. Not like he ever preferred long, subtle twistings of words and games of the mind or whatever. The direct approach was just so much quicker, you know?
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 6:10 pm
He brought a hand up to press against his forehead.
Fine. Blunt. Right. He felt his emotions begin to run wild, and slowly eat at him. ******** dont have a family. I lived in a ******** testing facility and escaped with, oh..about twelve other patients that lived there. They made me what I am, but it was miserable. Now they're hunting for their damned test dummies," he glared towards Marks slightly, not wanting to really show how upset he was.
"I got these tattoos from my handler. He put them there because I cried as a child...whenever they tested s**t." He wrinkled his nose, and ran his nails over his cheek, though he hadn't really meant to, dropping his hand back down to his lap. Slight red appeared, scraping over the said tattoo on his right cheek, "Better? now you know. Go ahead and mock me all you want."
Yes, he was being bitter, and spiteful. He closed his eyes, only to be welcomed with a burning sensation. No, he wouldn't give Marks the pleasure of seeing him cry, especially now. So he held back, and frowned, "Now you know.." He repeated lowly, flicking his tongue over his lips, calming. Now what?
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