Kicked to the Curb [PM]

[Robin Little]

The dubiousness lasted up until the fangs pierced the skin.

It didn’t feel like Robin thought it would. He assumed that he’d be pulling his wrist away with a crescent shaped bite mark upon it, as if he’d been attacked by some rabid animal. Except it wasn’t an animal, it was a human. Except, there was something very inhuman about the way it was so easy; the way that it didn’t feel as if she were going to take a chunk of his skin away with the bite. Instead, it felt like two needles piercing the skin, and then…

…it was kind of euphoric. What was that?! As the blood rushed from his body, as his heart rate increased to accommodate for the loss, the adrenaline eking into his system because it predicted danger, he felt dizzy. His spare hand reached out behind him as he leaned back. As he resisted the urge to tip his head back; his mouth was open, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the gathered saliva at the back of his throat. His body was suddenly hyperaware of its surroundings. The blonde hair that tickled his arm sent goose bumps flaring over the surface of skin.

Before he could really focus on what it was he was feeling, before he could put a finger on it, the sensation abated. Mora was lifting her head and passing him a handkerchief; telling him to apply pressure, which he did dumbly, blindly following her instruction because he didn’t know what else to do. He applied pressure, though he couldn’t help but lift the white cloth just a little to see what was underneath. Just two dots. Two dots, rimmed with red and white. Seeping with his own blood. Again, he swallowed, and continued to apply pressure. Whatever doubts he’d had, they were now banished. He was light-headed.

It took him half a minute to realise that Mora had thanked him. He cleared his throat.

”…it’s fine,” he rumbled. And then, he quickly glanced up at the blonde. His eyes were wide. A lightbulb buzzed to life in his brain. He licked his lips.

”Hey, so… I mean, could I actually make money out of this…?” he asked. Was this even feasible? In the back of his brain was that nagging question – he wanted to feel that again. He wanted to pinpoint what exactly he could compare it to, the sensation of having one’s blood taken. And if he could make a profit…

”Are there… you know, are there vampires who… who would pay money to drink blood from someone who… won’t care?” he asked. He resisted the urge to laugh. He would never have thought that would be a question he would ever ask seriously.

[Mora]

She waited for Robin to make some kind of movement, anything to show he was still within the living (funny little joke there, kind of.) He was breathing, but he wasn’t moving it was like he was still, so she waited watching him with those curious green orbs of hers before he finally stirred to life and took the handkerchief she had offered him and began to dab at his wounds with it, well those little two puncture holes. She smiled at him, using the back of her hands to wipe away at any excess blood that hugged at her lips. She turned her green eyes fully onto him as he began to talk, she expected him to tell her to get away, that she was a freak of nature – something nasty at least but the words he said shocked her.

He was telling her it was fine, he looked fine – she hadn’t taken enough to make the man overly weak, but here was the quirk. He didn’t forget her like most humans did. Most humans she bit usually forgot her and carried on about their business this one. Mr Robin Little, enjoyed his first taste of the dark side, the monsters of the night. She laughed. It was odd.

Then he was on about money, could he make money about letting vampires feed from him. She shrugged her shoulders at him, before nodding her head a moment later.

“I guess you could, it’s better to get it willingly than forcefully. Some vampires aren’t like me. If you do decide to go ahead with this, I suggest not telling anyone about this, not even family, or close friends. It can get yourself – and those closest to you, killed.”

She paused, gnawing on her lip briefly.

“Even me.”

She told him before coughing, covering her mouth to change the situation from the possible death situation if he was ever to blab his mouth about this. Tytonidae would kill him, and her if they knew about this Masquerade breach.

“I can refer people to you, if that’s what you mean.”

She said.

“Heck, I’d pay you.”

[Robin Little]

Of course there would be stipulations. Of course, and Robin slowly became aware of what he was asking. Of course, he was still imagining Nosferatu-like characters with grey skin and pointy ears and teeth that could render him limb from limb. Sure, yes, if there were monsters out there then he would have to be careful, rather than throwing himself into this endeavour willy-nilly and without any kind of consideration.

But here was this blonde, who throughout this entire transaction had been cool, calm, and collected. There was no reason for her not to be calm, he supposed, but there was no blatant overreaction to anything, which allowed Robin to wallow in the possibilities without freaking out too much. She admitted that she would pay him. He winked and pet his pocket with his hand – she already had.

That wasn’t all she had said, however. His eyes gleamed as he focused on her former statement. That she could refer people. He looked at her. Really looked at her, as if searching for some kind of hint that she would be unreliable, or that she really wouldn’t. What did it matter, anyway? If she didn’t, then so be it. Robin could just do his own research.

Or he would forget this night had ever happened, he would get lazy, and move on.

But for now, he licked his lips and smiled.

”You would?” he asked. He was already reaching for his bag so that he could open it up and retrieve a notepad and pen. He flicked the pad open and leaned over it; the pen he used was a fountain pen, and the black ink bubbled as it hit the paper, soon to sink in. Staining the whiteness with his name, Robin Little, and his number, 345-777-29. The page was inadvertently stained with his blood, too, which still seeped, only a little, from the punctures upon his wrist.

He laughed, almost snorted.

”Are you gonna be my blood pimp? My manager?” he asked, glancing up at the blonde as he tore the page from the book, folded it, and handed it to her.

Maybe he should get business cards made. But… maybe he was getting a bit too far ahead of himself.

[Mora]

She couldn’t quite understand why he was so excited over the blood being drawn from his body. For someone who had just found out about the dark secret of this city, and had just experienced it first hand, he was extremely cool about – alright he wasn’t at first but now he was. She rubbed at her chin curiously. Caressing the pale flesh before nodding her head slowly. She would be his manager of sorts. She’d pimp him out to her childer, and close friends. He had been a sport about feeding her, and keeping the secret and not running around screaming ‘vampire’. God, the press would have a field day with that ****.

“I could, of sorts. I’ll definatly tell my family about you. If you want.”

She debated telling him about the inside workings of a vampire family, but she decided against it – if he really wanted to know what she mean, he’d ask but she was sure he wouldn’t. For the benefit of either a) being bored to death, or b) not understanding a lick of it. She was sure the latter seemed more fitting this human in front of her had a thirst for knowledge, she liked it.

An idea hit her. She smirked.

“I can offer you a job, right now in my library if you like.”

She threw the idea around, she didn’t need to give the man an interview – then she could keep him close by just in case any unkind, or friendly vampires came looking for this man. She didn’t want him to get hurt, or worse – dead. Which is how most humans ended up around here, or even turned willingly or unwillingly. Before she could do anything else though she rummaged around in her coat pocket for a few papers of money, adding up to about $400 or so. She handed it to him, pushing it into the palm of his hand before he could do anything.

“This should cover you for any blood you lost. Or anything you need to buy to help replace it. Vitamins are a good thing, plus – you can buy that packet of smokes now.”

She threw him a wink and waited for a response. She liked him. He was keen, and curious. Much like she was.

[Robin Little]

First, a yes to what Robin had uttered as a joke. Second, a job offer. Third, some more money. A lot more money. Robin took the cash tentatively – it was more than he had seen all together in quite a while. And if he could make this much money a night? Even every two nights? Best. Job. Ever.

Except, was it a job as a blood doll that she was offering, or a legitimate job at an establishment where he was expected to show up on time and dress properly? And not be hungover or drunk? Not that he was an alcoholic, but he did like his whiskey. And if other people were buying, sometimes, things could just get a little bit out of hand when he hadn’t previously expected them to. Who was this woman that she would just offer him a job, just like that? Next she would be offering him a place to stay, and he’d be wondering whether there was some kind of scheme or conspiracy. Whether there was some blood farm somewhere, and all of this was a ruse to get him there. He shuddered, imagining himself hung upside down somewhere, blood slithering through a clear intravenous line. Naked. Hands bound.

There was a point at which Robin might draw a line.

He held the notes between his fingers as he mulled over the different things that Mora had said. Something about a family, which he did wonder about, but which he didn’t ask about. Not quite yet. Maybe it was a survival mechanism, or a way to deal with the shock, but his mind kept circling back to the ordinary thing. The offer of a job. At a library, no less.

”You’ve known me less than an hour, and you haven’t talked to any of my references. You want to offer me a job?” Robin asked. He did have a few references. He wasn’t sure whether any of them would actually have anything good to say – but he had managed to get himself jobs in the past via good word. He wasn’t about to tell Mora how completely unreliable he could be, if he thought he would get away with it. But an actual steady job might help. Maybe.

”I mean, I’m not going to say no, but it does seem a bit reckless on your behalf…” he added, slightly bemused.

[Mora]

“Should I not offer you a job then?”

She shook her head. Laughing a little as her chest rumbled, laughter erupting from her lips. She didn’t quite understand why he was so apprehensive when it came to the Telepath offering him a job. It’s not like he had lots of money himself. Being a blood doll, was a night job, whereas working in the library would be a day job, some extra cash. She shrugged her shoulders then.

“It is reckless.”

She offered the man. Moss orbs twinkling as she got up off the ground, and began to dust herself down from all dirt, that had clung to her since she had sat down on the curb of the street. She pushed tendrils of loose blonde hair behind her ear as she decided it might have been reckless of her to tell him, he was being a reckless. She coughed, covering her mouth with her knuckles.

“I mean, I can understand your hesitation. I’d be hesitant too, but as you know the secret about this town and your new night job, well you need a day time one. You gave me some of your blood. Which means, I can offer you a job as a kind of thank you.”

She shrugged her shoulders and pushed her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small rectangle shaped business card and offered it to Robin.

“Take this, it’s my business card. Let me know if you make a decision about the job. I need to run, I’ve got some paperwork that needs to be done. Thanks again for letting me feed, and keep our secret.”

She waggled her finger at him, waved and turned and began to walk away. Businesseses needed to be ran. Silly paperwork.