[He'll be there, with his phone, dressed in a sweatsuit just as he was the first time he decided to fight someone. There's a snug blue t-shirt underneath the jacket, and half of his hair is drawn back into a ponytail at the base of his scalp, shorter strands at the front still hanging loose. He's pacing, a bit wild-eyed, the shadowed bruises from earlier having progressed even further in their healing than just earlier in the day.]
[Petre takes only a small while to make an appearance. None of his clothes stray from his usual style, but he does lack his usual long coat this time around. Just a buttoned up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, one hand in his pocket while he finishes a cigarette.
In his other hand there's a black plastic bag. The content is unclear, but it's definitely heavy - not because Petre is struggling, but because it's pulling at the material with a visible strain.
The free hand takes the cigarette from his lips, and he breathes out smoke.]
[The truth is that he's been plagued by nightmares since he came here, and he didn't want to wake Pell or call Sheva, because he woke up charged with negative energy instead of upset or panicked. Violent energy. The call he did have to make was obvious.
His eyes, still too wide and restless, shift to the bag.]
[But good thing he asked. He puts his cigarette out on his opposite forearm, then throws it away. No burn, just ash.]
What you do need to know is this. You can go all out on me. I want you to. [and he's not going to explain why. it's hardly something Cole would understand.] You can't kill me, not permanently. But I can die.
If that happens? [he lifts the bag.] You make sure what's inside this bag is the first thing I see. No matter what.
[He takes his phone out of his jacket pocket, then shrugs the jacket off and sets the phone right on top of it beside the bag. That's how nice he plans to be.
Settling into a loose, flexible stance, he stares right into Petre's eyes with a slightly demented light in his own.]
[Cole knows exactly what he means by that word, as Petre intended him to. Irony is one of his favorite pastimes, which brings it pretty close to getting his mouth and fists in a bloody mess. Be it caused by him or unto him.]
Punching bag ready.
[His stance is relaxed, a sort-of shrug when he lifts his hands to his sides, palms open and facing up.]
[It still feels so much like an act from Petre that Cole wishes he were a more artful fighter (a boxer, if he'd heard of them), but he just comes on like a steamroller and there's no difference this time. Instantly he's right in Petre's face, delivering a hard punch to his jaw and then a follow-up to his temple with the other hand. Getting a fistful of Petre's hair, he drags his head down so he's bent double and starts to unload on his abdomen, upper-cut after upper-cut right beneath his ribs and then down to his stomach. Already it's plain that he's wild, over the edge, but the killer instinct hasn't kicked in yet.]
[The punches land on him like a boulder, knocking him from side to side until he's being grabbed and forced to remain perfectly in place while his middle gets massacred. That Cole had this kind of destructive energy in him is no surprise, but there's definitely something very startled in the sounds that he releases, neither a cry nor a laugh. Already blood is flaring in his skin, pain throbbing and air knocked right out of his lungs. Had he eaten before this and he'd be probably throwing up.
But just because he told Cole he wouldn't break him in half, that doesn't mean he won't fight back at all. Maybe that makes him a shitty punching bag, but it does make things fun. So as soon as there's even the smallest opening his own hand is grabbing Cole by the throat and throwing him around and away.
[The toss sends him flying, only landing on his feet because his back hits a wall and it's his turn to be winded. Gasping for air, he snarls in Petre's direction - of course he'll fight back, and doesn't that make it so much better - before moving in for round two. This time he gets a solid backhand across Petre's face, hand closed so that his knuckles will hit hard, then bends slightly to get him around the middle and push him back into the wall. Immediately he's upright again, hand back in Petre's hair to knock his head against the wall: not aiming for unconsciousness, because they're just getting started, but at least disorientation.]
[There's a grin of victory on his face to see the way Cole's body is sent flying like a lifeless doll, back against the wall, still making it down to his feet before he's ready to fight back. Petre obediently stays in place to watch him close in again and he doesn't even pretend he's bracing for it, grinning at those bitchslaps before his skull is smashing against the wall behind him.
Fuck, he's insane. And so is Petre, given that he just starts to laugh.]
[That laughter makes him think of torture, just for a fleeting second - not just tying someone up and beating them, but the sharpened bamboo shoots he had shoved under his fingernails, real torture - before he reels himself in a little. Torture is only ever used for a solid purpose, not for enjoyment, and it's completely irrelevant here.
Petre's laugh is just so grating in this moment that it feels like a solid purpose, making him scream instead.
He grabs Petre by the collar, whirls him around and off the wall and brings a knee up to his abdomen this time. It's hard, too, and high enough that he might be aiming for broken ribs.]
[It's easy to tell Petre's being willingly maneuvered by him, not fighting back and instead just fighting to breathe. The more frustrated Cole gets the more vicious he'll become, so Petre hopes it's worth it for the show. See how much damage he can do before he thinks he's gone too far. Will Petre die? Will Cole get to see how he'll transform?
Another choked out sound, hysterical and reaching for air that's being knocked right out of him, and he does feel that horrible crack of bone breaking inside him. That's when he screams, that's when he falls down to his knees.
And that's when he lunges onwards towards Cole, spearing right through his stomach to throw him back on the ground and climb on top. One hand holds his own ribs, like he's trying to keep the bone in place, while the other swings around to punch Cole's jaw a couple of times, one right after the other.]
[Pinning him is not a good move (or maybe the best move). That is guaranteed to bring out the most vicious side of him, and sure enough, he just rolls his head with those hard punches until he can take advantage of the light pin; with only Petre's legs holding him in place, he's able to sit up, and he gets his hands on Petre's head, elbows anchored on his shoulders, in exactly the same way he did with Remy. About to twist his head right around and snap his neck.
Cole! A flurry of voices rush through his head, Sheva's and Connor's and Ramse's and - Cassie's, which finally stops him. Petre can die and return, but that doesn't mean Cole has to kill him. Or should. It can end here. He's...
... not relaxed, actually. He's breathing more heavily than ever, body throbbing with serious pain in several different spots, and he's... so turned on he can barely see straight. His hands dig deeper into Petre's hair where he's got it, and he lets out a frustrated growl before letting go and trying to shove Petre off him.]
I'm not doing this. I'm not killing you because you let me. [With a bit more distance between them, the high colour in his cheeks and blackout depth of his pupils is much more obvious. He couldn't possibly be mistaken for anything but aroused.]
[He's hissing now, baring his teeth with a snarl and a grimace when Cole comes up to retaliate. Not because he's tired, not because he's frustrated that this man is still fighting back - quite the opposite. Perhaps for the first time in his life Petre is fighting a human that feels more like a monster, relentless and nothing but furious instinct, and he loves it.
Even Caleb paled in comparison.
The moment of hesitation is enough for Petre to recuperate. His bones had immediately begun to heal themselves from the moment they were broken, but the pause helps with the relief. He breathes properly for the first time since the blow, and then the smile becomes different.
Cole is bleeding. That was Petre's intention when he punched him once and then twice across the mouth. He's not supposed to feed on people while he's in Eudio, but - the fight is fully consensual, and bleeding is an inevitability. What he does next is only a logical convenience. They'll understand. Predatory.
So he leans in after Cole's done, holding on to both sides of his neck to press his tongue to the corner of his mouth. He licks then sucks lightly on the blood, producing a sound that's obscenely similar to a moan. It tastes so good. It's been so long since he's had a taste of it - synthetic meat always comes in dry. It does the job but it doesn't compare.]
[Petre making a move on him is no surprise by this point, but the hot, wet pressure right where his lip has split followed by sucking on it - that stings in a way that's all too pleasant, making him utter a choked sound of his own before tangling his hands back in Petre's hair and kissing him fiercely. This is it, this is what it took: the chance to kill him, the conscious act of backing away, gave him the rush that's finally pushed him beyond caring about Petre's darker sides.
And yes, sides, because there are many.
He just wants a release in some form other than killing now, and there's one Petre's all too willing to give. So why not give in? Now, here, in a place and situation where all bets are off.]
text; late night after his network post
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I'm here.
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[He's pretty serious about it if he's admitting Petre's superiority in strength.]
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And don't just say because you can take it. There's gotta be more than that.
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[It's about 1 am, but whatever.]
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Bring your phone.
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In his other hand there's a black plastic bag. The content is unclear, but it's definitely heavy - not because Petre is struggling, but because it's pulling at the material with a visible strain.
The free hand takes the cigarette from his lips, and he breathes out smoke.]
Guessing the breathing exercises didn't do shit.
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[The truth is that he's been plagued by nightmares since he came here, and he didn't want to wake Pell or call Sheva, because he woke up charged with negative energy instead of upset or panicked. Violent energy. The call he did have to make was obvious.
His eyes, still too wide and restless, shift to the bag.]
What's that.
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[But good thing he asked. He puts his cigarette out on his opposite forearm, then throws it away. No burn, just ash.]
What you do need to know is this. You can go all out on me. I want you to. [and he's not going to explain why. it's hardly something Cole would understand.] You can't kill me, not permanently. But I can die.
If that happens? [he lifts the bag.] You make sure what's inside this bag is the first thing I see. No matter what.
Tell me you got that.
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Yeah, I got it. [This is feeling like a really, really bad idea again. And yet again, it's come from and to Petre.] Just leave it close by.
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[Close by it is. He drops the thing on the ground with a dull thud, then rolls his shoulders back.]
If that doesn't work, you need to call someone who can help you. Someone who can handle a demon.
[And after all those warnings, Petre suddenly smiles.]
But I'm sure it won't come to that. We'll be nice.
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[He takes his phone out of his jacket pocket, then shrugs the jacket off and sets the phone right on top of it beside the bag. That's how nice he plans to be.
Settling into a loose, flexible stance, he stares right into Petre's eyes with a slightly demented light in his own.]
Ready?
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Punching bag ready.
[His stance is relaxed, a sort-of shrug when he lifts his hands to his sides, palms open and facing up.]
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But just because he told Cole he wouldn't break him in half, that doesn't mean he won't fight back at all. Maybe that makes him a shitty punching bag, but it does make things fun. So as soon as there's even the smallest opening his own hand is grabbing Cole by the throat and throwing him around and away.
He just needs a breather, that's all.]
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Fuck, he's insane. And so is Petre, given that he just starts to laugh.]
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Petre's laugh is just so grating in this moment that it feels like a solid purpose, making him scream instead.
He grabs Petre by the collar, whirls him around and off the wall and brings a knee up to his abdomen this time. It's hard, too, and high enough that he might be aiming for broken ribs.]
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Another choked out sound, hysterical and reaching for air that's being knocked right out of him, and he does feel that horrible crack of bone breaking inside him. That's when he screams, that's when he falls down to his knees.
And that's when he lunges onwards towards Cole, spearing right through his stomach to throw him back on the ground and climb on top. One hand holds his own ribs, like he's trying to keep the bone in place, while the other swings around to punch Cole's jaw a couple of times, one right after the other.]
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Cole! A flurry of voices rush through his head, Sheva's and Connor's and Ramse's and - Cassie's, which finally stops him. Petre can die and return, but that doesn't mean Cole has to kill him. Or should. It can end here. He's...
... not relaxed, actually. He's breathing more heavily than ever, body throbbing with serious pain in several different spots, and he's... so turned on he can barely see straight. His hands dig deeper into Petre's hair where he's got it, and he lets out a frustrated growl before letting go and trying to shove Petre off him.]
I'm not doing this. I'm not killing you because you let me. [With a bit more distance between them, the high colour in his cheeks and blackout depth of his pupils is much more obvious. He couldn't possibly be mistaken for anything but aroused.]
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Even Caleb paled in comparison.
The moment of hesitation is enough for Petre to recuperate. His bones had immediately begun to heal themselves from the moment they were broken, but the pause helps with the relief. He breathes properly for the first time since the blow, and then the smile becomes different.
Cole is bleeding. That was Petre's intention when he punched him once and then twice across the mouth. He's not supposed to feed on people while he's in Eudio, but - the fight is fully consensual, and bleeding is an inevitability. What he does next is only a logical convenience. They'll understand. Predatory.
So he leans in after Cole's done, holding on to both sides of his neck to press his tongue to the corner of his mouth. He licks then sucks lightly on the blood, producing a sound that's obscenely similar to a moan. It tastes so good. It's been so long since he's had a taste of it - synthetic meat always comes in dry. It does the job but it doesn't compare.]
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And yes, sides, because there are many.
He just wants a release in some form other than killing now, and there's one Petre's all too willing to give. So why not give in? Now, here, in a place and situation where all bets are off.]
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