( AN OPEN POST #2 )

[charmlessness]

 
 
 

you know the drill. pick your poison (not entirely limited to those listed). reply with a prompt in the form of a post, photo, song, text, voicemail, whatever your heart desires & receive a response. simple, right? right.

 
 
 

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[santanico]

( A common misconception about vampirism is that it's something that is immediately taken to.

The feeding is something you acquire immediately, the darkness is something that you adjust to, but the one thing that Santanico has never quite gotten over since she lost her mortal life is the fact that she can no longer spend even a moment in the sunlight. Artificial light is a poor substitute, and even though she knows what happens if she steps into sunlight, she still yearns for it.

She's not a prisoner of that temple parading as an exotic bar any longer, and for that, she's eternally grateful.

It's unspoken, how highly she thinks of Richie — not only for what he did for her, but for the person he is, himself — but if someone were to catch her looking at him when he's not paying attention, it'd be obvious. Like a shot to the heart. There is a reason she chose him to be the one to set her free.

She only hopes that he won't begin to resent her for what she's done to him, essentially taking his life in the light away from him and leaving him in the darkness. )

Where would you like to go?

( Rays of sunlight leak through shutters of the suite they've acquired, having grown tired of driving. (They'll need to feed, soon, especially the younger vampire, but for now they rest.) She's careful to avoid it as she takes a step closer to Richie, reaching up to rest the palm of her hand on his cheek, thumb softly stroking skin that will never again be kissed by the sun.

They possess the ability to go anywhere on the Earth — Santanico thinks it fair to give the decision to him, given everything she's put him through. )

[prescription]

[ You have to let me go. Richie remembers his words, thinks on them often — he'd lived a life without Seth, but never like this. It was like walking in two separate worlds, he and his brother toeing opposing sides of the same, extended line, but never given the ability to cross. The time for that was not yet, Santanico explains, and Richie understands, but a small, childish part of him doesn't want to.

He misses the sunlight. He never imagined the last time he'd feel it on his face was when he was standing just outside of a titty bar down past the Mexican border. Now, he only watches a sunset through tinted windows and on big screens. Her company fills a certain void, but Richie's possessed it for so long now, he hardly recognized it needed something wedged there. It's the only warmth he feels anymore.

There are things, these days, that he can't have, but through it, he has her. Santanico. She's like no one he has ever known. ( Not that he's met many culebra goddesses. ) He looks on her and he tries to understand. Years of time and restraint have kept her from the world outside. It's a changed world, a new world. She marvels, he provides insight. She's intoxicating; she puzzles him. This is what I do: I figure it out.

The graze of her nails on his cheek is a feeling he isn't doomed to forget. He presses further into the palm of her hand, skin against skin. By the book, vampires are said to be cold to the touch. He never feels particularly cool in her presence.

He looks into her eyes, half of a grin quirking at his lips. ]

What's a guy gotta do to get a decent meal around here?

[ It's a bad joke. Of course it is. ]