Vampires! Everyone loves vampires!

[samuraiprosecutor]

Please help me fulfill my love of gratuitous vampire plot. No logic necessary here. One character is a newly-turned vampire, the other is the first human (or other food source) to come across them. Is the vampire valiantly resisting the primal urge to feed or thanking their lucky stars that lunch has arrived?

Setup can be as detailed or vague as you want. Please note in the subject line or tag whether your character is a vampire or vampire chow and any squicks you'd rather avoid. It's safe to assume that violence, non-con, or bloodplay might crop up since, you know...vampires.

Have fun~

Comments

[samuraiprosecutor]

Edgeworth didn't hear the last words. His mind froze completely at 'four days,' leaving him staring into the lighted apartment with horror.

"Four days?!" It was nearly a shout, far too loud for that time of night. Belatedly, he lowered his voice, a struggle when every nerve in him wanted to shout. "No... No, that's impossible. It couldn't have been more than twenty four hours."

He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking his head. Wright's announcement should have made him feel faint; the fact that it didn't was somehow worse. If his face could have paled any further, it undoubtedly would have.

[attorneyatlol]

Phoenix frowned at that. Calling the paramedics sounded like the right idea. The police would be second on his list.

Reigning in his own emotions, he tried to be reassuring, but the way his words tumbled out belied his concern. "Hey, it's okay, just... Just don't think about it, all right? You're here now." Gently, he took the man by the arm and tried to urge him inside. "Come on. I'm gonna get somebody over here. Just... come in and tell me what happened, okay?"

[samuraiprosecutor]

At first, he balked at his companion's directions, some unknown aversion bubbling up inside him again as he was moved toward the door. It fell away without warning when he wrenched himself free of Wright's grip, so he warily chalked it up to irritation over the man's condescending touch, rather than the way his own relief happened to coincide perfectly with Wright's explicit invitation.

Bristling, Edgeworth barreled into the apartment and came up against a wall of scents that nearly forced him back. The place reeked of Wright in a way he had never noticed before. His sweet, musky smell permeated everything, and for a moment Edgeworth felt like he was drowning in it.

Once the initial shock was over, he managed to sit at the kitchen table with considerably less gusto than when he entered the apartment. He frowned at the table's dull surface while seemingly disparate facts rolled through his mind in worrying directions.

[attorneyatlol]

Surprised, Phoenix held back and watched Edgeworth stalk into the apartment, brow furrowed deeply. The man's behavior was perplexing, but more than that, it was worrying.

"Edgeworth...?" What the hell happened?

He closed the door and fished out his cell phone, his eyes never leaving his friend.

[samuraiprosecutor]

He looked up slowly at the sound of his own name. Here in the light his paleness was even more pronounced.

"I'm sorry. I just..." His gaze drifted to the cell phone, and a wariness flickered in his eyes. "Don't call anyone yet, please. I need some time to..."

To what? Figure out what in God's name was wrong with him?

"...to collect myself."

[attorneyatlol]

He'd already pressed 9, his finger hovering over the 1, when Edgeworth spoke. Against his better judgment, Phoenix paused and regarded him, troubled by his sickly complexion and the odd... something in his eyes. If Phoenix didn't know any better, he'd think the man was drugged.

Was he possibly drugged...?

Keeping his phone at the ready, he made his way to the kitchen table and slowly sat down, frowning.

"What happened, Edgeworth?"

[samuraiprosecutor]

Wright's easy capitulation was an unexpected relief. Edgeworth slumped back into the chair, too exhausted (and disturbed, and hungry, and...) to give a thought to his perfect posture.

He shot his companion an odd, guilty look.

"I'm...not entirely sure. Someone attacked me on my way home. Naturally I thought at first that it was a mugging, but...it wasn't." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table, and stared at his clasped hands. There was something haunted in that look.

"I was left alive but unconscious. When I came to, I was...extremely disoriented. It's miraculous that I even found my way here."

[attorneyatlol]

Phoenix listened with growing concern and a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was obvious there had been some sort of attack, but hearing Edgeworth say it, seeing the way it had shaken the man--it was something else entirely. His stomach then sank as it dawned on him that, if Edgeworth thought it'd been just twenty-four hours since all of this happened, it could have meant he'd been left unconscious for up to three days. Three days.

"Geez," he breathed. Leaning back in his seat, he ran a hand through his hair as questions of who and what and why ran through his mind, but all he could do was shake his head. His gaze fell to the table, dumbfounded and horrified. "I don't know what to say, I just... God, Edgeworth..."