Deiara cruised the park, looking for possible meals. She hated this, but she had to, now that she was a vampire. She could go without eating, but unfortunately that would a slow death by malnutrition. A vampire could starve to death, but it took years. And she would lose all control before then, and completely drain the first human she saw. She thought about killing herself, but she hadn't been able to yet. There was one. She shuddered, then approached him. Males were always easier. They tended to be easily charmed by her, much to her dismay.

Roger's head hurt. He'd been awake for far too long, and the 6 or so shots he'd just downed weren't helping either. The club around him was swimming through his blurred vision, spinning wildly as he fought to keep his head straight. It hadn't been a successful night -- Roger had done alright, but no one was into the music. His band members had disappeared hours ago, leaving him slumped over the bar with a melancholy lookout on life.

That was the life of a starving artist. Roger knew that his band was awesome, kickass, in fact, but no one else seemed to care. If only they could rock out like they did at rehearsals...but it was hopeless. His friends had given up ages ago, and Roger was the only one still holding on to the dream. Oh, well. Unfortunately he wasn't holding on to the bar any longer, and he slid down onto the sticky floor. It was a pathetic sight. Roger had taken particular care in his wardrobe that evening: leather jacket, steel-toed boots and torn jeans with artistically placed patches. Now, however, the jacket was gone, and his eyeliner was smeared, and his carefully spiked black hair was falling limply over his face. Failure.

He was beginning to give up all hope of ever getting off the floor -- it took far more coordination than he had at the moment -- when the girl appeared before him. She was pretty, and he was drunk. He managed a half-smile, still struggling to get up. "Hey. 'M Roger." He said thickly, holding out one hand for her to shake.

((Yay! X3 This is going to be funzies.))

Drunk men were the easiest victims, but that didn't mean she didn't feel bad for taking advanateg of them.
"I'm Deiara." She shook his hand, and helped him up. "Why don't we get out of here? It's pretty crowded, you know." She gave a coy little tilt of her head, hating herself as she did so. "We could go... somewhere quieter?" She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

((I'm glad! I think so too.))

Finally, the night was looking up. Roger wasn't bad with women, but he had never been propositioned so early in the conversation. This was a definite step up. He grinned lazily and nodded, trying not to show the eagerness in his expression, although he wasn't quite sure if he had control of his facial muscles at that point. However, now that he was standing upright everything seemed more on the positive side.
"Deiara? Lovely name. Shall we, then?" He said, extending his arm in a gentlemanly fashion towards the lady. She was very attractive, Roger had to admit. He hadn't really been pulling recently...he'd been too dedicated to band proceedings to scope out the crowd at any of their gigs. It was a giant stroke of luck to come across someone like Deiara, especially since he hadn't even been on the prowl. Maybe there was some kind of balance to the universe. He'd been on such a long bad luck streak that eventually something spectacular had to happen to him.

Deiara smiled at him, trying to not look disgusted at the thought racing through her mind. She moved through the crowd, supporting Roger as they went. She had made sure to find an apartment that was close to all the clubs. She didn't need to sleep, so she supposed she could have lived on the streets. The idea didn't appeal to her though. She had also kept her day job as a store clerk. She had to wear sunglasses because her eyes were sensitive to bright lights now, but she didn't go up in flames in sunlight. It was uncomfortable to be out in actual sunlight for too long, however. She was still hoping to find a supplier of blood she could buy from, but so far she hadn't had much luck. She still hadn't tried animal blood yet. She had heard from other vampires that some had severe allergic reactions, even dying. She was getting tired of feeding on people, though. In the mean time she had enough money for clothing, and she saved up the rest, for when she got bold enough or her looking paid off.

"My apartment is right up these stairs." She steered Roger towards the stairs, hoping he didn't fall in his drunken state.

Roger gave Deiara a sweet, childish smile. His hair was still tousled and the eyeliner had smudged across one cheek, giving him a very disheveled appearance. It was a very different statement than the one that he had been going for.
He cheerfully allowed himself to be steered up the stairs, managing to stay upright and balanced even though he was still spinning loop-de-loops in his head. She was very strong for a girl, especially such a slim girl. Interesting.
"Nice staircase you've got here." Roger mumbled as they reached the top. "Very full of stairs."

Deiara laughed at this statement. Then she remembered what she was going to do to him and quieted guiltly. She was beginning to feel really sorry for him. He was quite good looking.

"Here we are." She pulled him inside and began kissing him. She had to make it believable, before she bit him. She could have left him downstairs, but not only did this feel better, but if they needed help afterward she could make sure they were okay before leaving. She did worry that one of these days she would be found out this way, but she couldn't help it, she felt. She began kissing him harder, her instincts taking over as she knew she was close to a meal.

Roger's eyes flew open wide as Deiara's mouth met his, but he was not one to question such a golden opportunity. He pressed her close to him, elated at her passion. A tiny voice in his head was uneasily voicing concerns, saying: come on, Roger. When has something this good ever happened to you? You're either asleep and dreaming or about to get robbed blind. But he didn't care. He'd had a godawful night and he felt that he deserved a little pleasure. He responded eagerly, if clumsily, to her increase in intensity. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest, his pulse picking up as his body reacted. Funny, that he should feel such a rush of adrenaline when he was so hammered.

She steeled herself inside for what was to come. She slid her lips down his neck and began biting. Gentle at first, and then she increased the pressure until her newly erupted fangs pierced his neck. And then she began to drink. He tasted so good, already marinated in alcohol. It didn't effect her anymore, but the taste... Ah, it was wonderful! Her guilt was sliding away in the pleasure of the meal. She reminded herself that she couldn't take too much. She couldn't drain him dry. At the very least it would be difficult to get rid of the body.

At first, Roger didn't realize what was going on. His body was numb enough from the alcohol that Deiara's fangs in his neck did not register immediately. It wasn't until he started feeling weak that the thought entered his head. Even as he felt the sensation of the woman draining his blood, he didn't realize what was really happening. He tried to push her away, but she was amazingly strong...her strength wasn't all that sexy anymore. Roger let out a strangled cry as his legs began to shake beneath him. He was losing strength in his limbs.

Roger closed his eyes -- or at least, his eyes fell closed. His eyelids had suddenly become incredibly heavy. The pressure of Deiara's mouth on his neck was getting agonizingly strong, while the sensation in the rest of his body was fleeing. It was as though his nerves had given up on everything but that one spot where her fangs had punctured. His breathing slowed, even as his thoughts raced frantically, shrieking in panic. He was dying! And he was too drunk to even do anything about it! What a just way to die for a loser like him.

She finished and wiped her lips. As she came back to herself she looked down at him. Her eyes widened in horror. She hadn't eaten in days. Her hunger must have overcome her. Roger was now incredibly pale and his breathing shallow. She hated to, but she knew she had to turn him. She got a knife from the kitchen and cut her index finger. She walked back to the prone figure and knelt down. She placed her finger in his mouth.
"Suck on my finger." She urged. Great, another one of the living dead would be walking around now.

Roger could barely focus on Deiara's blurred shape as she left the room and came back. The whole room seemed to be flickering in a giant strobe light, coming in and out of blackness. He felt incredibly weak, as if he were a beanbag with all the beans poured out. Time wasn't working correctly either. It seemed like it took an age for Deiara to go to the kitchen and return, each of her steps taking at least a year.

When Deiara placed her finger in his mouth he started at the touch, feeling as though he had just been awakened from a doze. Suck on her finger? What...did she mean...? Roger's thoughts were going at snail's pace as he struggled to focus on Deiara's face. Finally some lone neuron fired and he understood her order. With an effort, he managed to close his mouth around her finger and draw some of the blood out. He couldn't taste it at all, but it felt hot in his throat. He coughed as the warmth spread down into his chest. A sort of bubbling feeling started in the pit of his stomach and he groaned, closing his eyes and turning his head away. What was happening? Painful bursts of heat radiated out from his core into his limbs, making him grit his teeth and take his breaths in hisses. With each nova of pain, however, he felt strength returning to his body, surging back into him like a torrent of water.

Roger's eyes flew open and he slumped to the floor, breathing hard. He felt like his body was vibrating all over like a struck bell. After his drunkenness and the creeping lethargy he experienced after losing so much blood, the life flowing back into him felt like white hot electricity. He'd never felt so awake and alive, and it just kept getting stronger. His body convulsed and he cried out as his head hit the wall. With one final shock it was over. Roger's green eyes flickered around the room as his breathing began to slow. Although the force of the transformation was over, Roger could still feel weird power coursing through his veins, as if his blood had been replaced with coffee. He sat up and looked around, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"What...just happened to me?" He managed to say, when his eyes finally found Deiara's face.

"You- I took too much blood. I had to turn you or you would die. I couldn't take you to a hospital. There would have been too many questions. You're a vampire now." She looked into his eyes, gauging his reaction. She hoped he wouldn't freak out. She felt bad enough about the whole business. "I'm sorry."

Roger opened and closed his mouth a few times. He was pretty sure he wasn't dreaming -- the feeling of Deiara's fangs in his neck had been too real for that. She had definitely just sucked the living blood out of him, that was also certain. As for the second part...Deiara's blood had revived him from near-death, but did that really make him a vampire? Was he going to have to drain people like she just did to him. That didn't really sound so bad, actually. But he had to make sure.

Slowly, Roger stood up, still watching Deiara. "So...if I'm a vampire..." He said thoughtfully, "I should have fangs..." He stuck a finger in his mouth to feel his teeth and -- "Owch!"

Roger pulled his hand away and stared down at the tiny bead of blood forming on his forefinger. There had definitely been a fang there...and the blood was looking rather appealing. Instead of acting on this new instinct Roger shoved his hands in his pockets. "Um. This is really...strange." He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the strange energy vibrating in his limbs. "I feel really weird. Is this how it's supposed to feel? I mean." Roger blinked and shook his head. It was bizarre even to him that he was taking this so calmly, but given what had just happened...what Deiara was saying made sense.

"Yeah, it feels a little weird at first. I think you get used to it though. At least I have." Deiara didn't look at Roger as she spoke, her guilty coursing through her as thick as blood. She turned her gaze back on his as a new thought came to her. "You should be fine for tonight but tomorrow you're going to take your first...meal." She heisitated, not wanting to say victim, although that's what it was. "It takes about a month before you go crazy and drain dry the first person you see. I hadn't eaten in 26 days. So, sorry about that. I feel bad about, the whole blood sucking thing, but I need to remember the consequences. If I wait too long I could kill someone for good." She sighed, and sat down on the couch.

Roger stared at her, hugging his arms to himself tightly. He didn't like the feeling of so much strength in his body. He felt like he could easily punch a hole in the wall or crush the doorknob into a twisted lump. He swallowed, hyper aware of the new pointed fangs. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I couldn't believe my luck when you just picked me up like that." He ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room. "So...what does this whole vampire thing entail? I mean, the blood sucking. Right." He looked thoughtful. He was going to have to do to someone else what Deiara had just done to him. It didn't seem all that bad, really. After the shock of having his blood drained, a lot of things Roger had been terrified of now just seemed silly. All of his concern about the band, his growing anxiety about making something of himself...even finding a girlfriend. If he was immortal, what was the point of worrying? He should ask about that, actually.

"Am I immortal now? Like, I won't die of old age?" He looked over at Deiara questioningly. She was very pretty, in an almost unearthly way. He could now see the subtle hints of inhumanness about her. Her skin was too perfect, her hair too glossy. It was a lovely effect, but there were simply no flaws about her. He wondered if he looked like that himself now. Might be interesting to explore that later...

"Well, if you lose all of your blood or your head you'll die. You get ravenously hungry before you lose it all, but you could commit suicide by going to some place with no people, I suppose. Also, injuring your heart fatally, with a wooden stake, or otherwise, will probably kill you. Crucifixes and bibles don't make your skin steam and sunlight won't burn you. It will hurt your eyes though, since they've become more ready for night vision. I wear sunglasses whenever I go to work at the store. I'm hoping to find a steady source of human blood that I don't have to force from them. Or animal blood. I've heard that to some vampires it can be deadly, so I haven't tried it yet. That'd be a lot easier than getting it from people though." Deaiara sighed as she got done with her speech.

Roger made a face. "Ugh...that sounds unpleasant..." He said, wrinkling his nose at the thought of drinking animal blood. He wondered why it suddenly sounded so repulsive, as if someone had told him he'd have to eat sewage for the rest of his life. It seemed a much better option to him to just go after humans instead. He'd never particularly liked people much -- they were rude, they lied, they were selfish and small-minded. Why shouldn't he prey on them, just as they had preyed on him?

((Sorry for the short post!))

((It's fine. Sometimes a short post is all you need to move the story along. I tend to have shorter posts myself, to let the other person finish them naturally.))

"I think drinking human blood is pretty unpleasant, myself. But yeah, I don't think I want to risk death quite yet. I still want to hold on to what pathetic life I have." She paused, lost in thought. Then a new idea came to her. "You're going to need a place to stay. Do you have one? If not, you can sleep on my couch. It's not the most comfortable place but it works. It doesn't pull out though."

Roger looked uncomfortable. "No, I've got an apartment..." A shabby little place on the corner of two dank streets. It wasn't much, but it was all he could afford right now. His financial situation hadn't been fantastic lately. He didn't particularly feel like getting a cab, though, and all of his equipment was still at the club...He wasn't worried about that, he knew that the owner would stow it somewhere safe until he came to get it. This wasn't the first time that Roger had abandoned everything after a show in a drunken stupor. At least he had some people he could trust.

"Would you mind if I stayed, though? I just...I'm tired." He did feel exhausted, drained entirely. There was a weird jittery energy possessing him though, which wouldn't let him respond to his tiredness. His fingers kept twitching and he could barely keep still. The new demon that had just put up residence inside Roger's human body was itching to go get some action. He bit his lip with his new fangs -- the vampire didn't care what kind of action it was, and it was getting uncomfortable with Deiara so close by, and so very attractive.

(( :D There's a longer one! Thanks.))

"Sure. Vampires don't need sleep exactly, but we do tend to go into this state where we black-out, or dream like normal. It's like sleep, except we don't get tired if deprived of it. I get bored if I don't sleep some, though." She paused and thought for a moment. "I think it also increases the time between feedings though. Hey, do you want some chamomile tea? I find that it quiets me enough so I can sleep. Especially when I was newly turned. Unlike you I had to find out this on my own. I did meet some other vampires that me things, but I've also learned a lot on my own. Things like the animal blood side effects I learned from the others. I don't hang out with them much though. A lot of them creep me out." She shuddered, and put on a pot of water. "So, did you want tea?" she asked, realizing she hadn't given him a chance to respond.

Roger swallowed, trying to come to terms with the block of information she had just given him. Tea? Right. "Tea would be nice, actually..." He said, taking a few hesitating steps towards a chair and sinking into it. His head was feeling a little funny and light -- maybe it was from the shock? Roger wasn't sure. He had so little idea of what was going on with his body, he decided not even to think about it anymore. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. It seemed like he would be able to continue his normal life, more or less, but with added bonuses. That sounded pretty good to him. No ageing, almost invulnerability, and no more need for normal food or rest.

"When were you made into a vampire, Deiara? That is your name...right? Sorry. If you didn't notice, I was pretty hammered...I'm bad at remembering things when I drink too much."

"Yeah that's my name. Not too long ago, actually." Deiara put enough water for 3 mugs of tea onto the stove. "It was about two years ago? i guess. I'll have to move on soon though. People will think it's weird that I don't age, and they might want to send me to a lab for testing or something." She laughed, but she was utterly serious. "Yeah, except they meant to turn me. They thought I would be a good slave or something. I'm not sure. I mean, I felt devotion towards him, but I didn't like feeling that way towards a guy, a creature like him. And I was able to break free. I got the feeling that... well that he wanted some not so pleasant things for me. And unless I broke free, which I did, that I'd be helpless. I think once you break free you're always free of them, but it is hard..." Deiara lapsed into her memories.

Roger gave Deiara and odd look. "Does that mean that I have to be your slave now? I don't really like that idea." Well, that wasn't entirely true. Deiara was very beautiful, and Roger was a simple guy. Still, being bound to one person forever sounded like too much too soon for him. Deiara probably didn't mean to keep him -- she'd only turned him out of necessity after all.

Feeling like he was trapped in a dream, Roger fiddled with a hole in his jeans. The skin he could feel through the opening was cold. He was slightly unnerved by the lack of body heat, but it had to be expected...he was dead now, after all. Or...undead. It was complicated.

"Well, it makes you easier to control and I think there's some weird vampire ray thing I can do to make you want to obey me. I don't know. I think it also depends on how much blood is given to turn you. I only gave you a little bit, so you should be fine. If I had opened an artery and drained half of my blood into you, however, you would probably be my obedient slave. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing that. I think my... sire used more blood than that, but I guess it wasn't enough. I also think it depends on how strong-willed you are. Hah." Deiara leaned against the counter. "The hardest thing about being a vampire is not having anyone to confide in. You can't simply go up to a friend and say 'Hey, I'm a vampire! I like blood smoothies better than strawberry!'. It's kind of lonely, you know?"