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[broil]

" talk to me, baby. "
AUDIO | VIDEO | TEXT | ACTION

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[splintercells]

I know that's why you did it.

[Cole thought it spoke to a kind of desperation, going that far, even as casually and ridiculously as Petre did it (because Petre does everything ridiculously.) He's still not totally sure it didn't.]

Any takers yet?

[broil]

Why - so you can track them down and convince them not to do it? Tell them how much of a terrible person I really am, that I can't be trusted? [he grimaces, because how dumb do you think this demon is. Actually, he's pretty dumb.] Please.

[splintercells]

So the post wasn't a waste.

[So you don't hurt anyone. You're still not getting that there's an element of protection here, Petre.]

[broil]

[No one has ever done anything to protect Petre except for Diana. They're too busy trying to protect themselves from the demon! So forgive him if he doesn't buy any of it.]

Certainly wasn't that.

[Swiiiiig.]

[splintercells]

Gimme a straight answer for once, Petre. Did you feed yet? Can you?

[It doesn't look like he's going away any time soon.]

[broil]

No, I didn't. But I can.

[there. u happy.]

Why, are you offering?

[splintercells]

[Oh ffs.]

I heal fast. I don't regenerate.

[broil]

[He's still tasting the wine he just drank when Cole says that.]

... That's right.

[And he tongues his teeth, eyeing him in a different kind of regard. Considering him, which is never a good thing. He forgot he healed differently.]

It doesn't have to be flesh. Not at first.

[splintercells]

What.

[No inflection. This is the first time he's really felt threatened by Petre, truly threatened, with that light in his eye and his words. What if it's already gone too far, and it just doesn't look like a snarling, rabid mess? What the fuck did he do, coming here?]

[broil]

Could just be a little bit of blood.

[And he decides he will get himself a glass after all. Cole, too. So he lets him stew on that thought (and fear) while he pours the both of them some of that wine, walking over to hand Cole a drink.]

Your blood. I mean - if you heal faster, then it's bound to work better, too. Right?

[He drinks, eyes on the other man.]

[splintercells]

[He accepts the glass, but he's not sure how he holds it in such numb fingers. Fingers that are also itching for his gun, except that he knows it'll do nothing - maybe even make him more likely to snap into a rage.

Just a little bit of blood. Oh, this is fucked up. This is as fucked up as they've gotten yet, by far.]

How do I know that won't just make you hungrier?

[broil]

[To which he just arches his brows.]

Do you get hungrier when you eat?

[splintercells]

When I was starving? Yeah. One bite and my stomach hurt more than ever. But I didn't have any more.

[He just - doesn't want to look like a buffet at any point while he's here. This is the most amazingly fine line to walk.]

[broil]

Well. I'm not starving right now.

[Drinking some mo'.]

[splintercells]

You're serious.

[Cole knew he was serious all along. But somehow, for some reason, he has to say that out loud. Voice the fact that this is something they're considering.]

It'll keep you - it's good enough?

[broil]

[It's hardly an emergency. Petre made the post now before it ever could become one, and that was considering the fact that even the eudio representatives may not come up with an alternative solution. A brace thyselves for the apocalypse hypothetical scenario.

But then, if they couldn't make their machines work, how would they create more synthetic meat. It really wasn't all that far-fetched.]

It'll soothe me.

[a light shrug.]

[splintercells]

[He came here to protect Petre and the city from one another, right? What if this is what he has to do? If the alternative is someone getting eaten...

His Adam's apple bobs around a hard swallow.]

Get me a knife. A sharp one.

[broil]

We don't need one.

[He sticks his tongue out, shows just a slight shift of teeth into fangs. But if Cole insists, he'll fetch a sharp knife and deposit it in his hand.]

[splintercells]

[Okay, that makes him shudder right down to his bones.]

A clean wound'll heal faster. [Not a full objection, but god, is he ever facing the full truth of what Petre is now.]

[broil]

[Well, Cole has the knife now. So Petre steps back and gives whatever space the guy needs, a certain kind of eagerness in his eyes now.]

[splintercells]

[It's hard to know where to cut. The palm of the hand is classic, but that's also an awkward place for a wound while it heals. Inner arm, above the wrist? Upper arm?

He eventually shrugs off his jacket, a short-sleeved shirt beneath it, and his VII scar almost seems to flex and stretch with the movement as he takes the knife in his right hand and makes the cut between the vein-rich areas at the wrist and near the elbow. Nice and safe. There's only the barest wince, and as the blood starts to pool, he holds his arm out.]

[broil]

[It's not just a kind of eagerness anymore. He's completely eager now, as his eyes follow every movement of the hand holding the knife. How it rests against skin before he presses harder, slides smoothly and slashes his arm open to then let blood pool and stream.

He makes sure he's allowed to come closer, glancing at Cole first, then finally reaching out with a hand to hold it beneath his arm. Then he lifts it up and lowers his head, meeting in the middle. He starts with a non-kiss, a press of his lips so he can taste the blood that sticks with his tongue. Then, open-mouthed, he sucks at the rest that comes out insistently. He won't stop until Cole's body works and makes it stop, which should be soon.

Somewhere in the middle of this obscene offering, the demon can't help producing a sound in his throat, a murmur of pleasure. How long has it been since he's had fresh, real blood so abundantly? Cole was right to worry, because it does make Petre crave more, but that's why Petre was smart enough to lie. Nothing bad happens, but Cole might want to make him stop before he gets too dizzy.]

[splintercells]

[He's breathing heavily, his stomach turning, as he watches Petre drink his blood with such obvious greed. It's disgusting and erotic all at once, makes his skin prickle with goosebumps, and he doesn't know from which they come. That sound Petre makes doesn't help anything, and that's when he yanks his arm back and presses the opposite hand to the wound immediately.]

Get - [He is woozy, little stars in his vision for a moment.] - get a towel or something.

[broil]

[He stays with his mouth open, looking dazed when Cole suddenly pulls away. There's blood staining his lips, which he thoroughly licks off, gathering himself back up with a deep breath before running his hair through his hair to arrange it.

A towel. Right. He'll get that, then just shove it against Cole's chest.]

That was good. Thanks.

[No, he definitely sounds a bit breathless, pupils dilated. And his hand isn't going anywhere.]

[splintercells]

[It is fucking obscene to watch Petre lick his lips clean of blood. Cole's head spins worse than ever, and when he's finally got the towel to press against the wound, he starts to stagger toward any nearby furniture where he could sit. He's trying not to look at Petre at all, see how flustered he looks now.]

I just need a minute. [That much is obvious. He's pale, just a bit, and his gaze is unfocussed.]