His limbs were limp against the white tiles of Juliet's bathroom. The collars of his pinstripe suit and shirt were ruffled aside, so as to to make room for sharp little teeth. His breath came in warm, slow, alcohol-tainted waves, softly mingling with the drip-drip-dripping of the basin faucet. He was out for the count, silent and still on the floor, save for the odd confused little moan as Juliet drank from him.

As she knelt over his form, the neonate's eyelashes fluttered against her pale cheeks, as though she were savouring the flavour of a strawberry sorbet. However, his taste was not sweet and cold, but hot and strong and disarmingly ... masculine. It was a tangy mixture of booze and desperation and vigor.

Most likely he was Blood type A, Juliet decided: slightly metallic, very potent and decidedly savoury. Quite pleasant, really.  

Ah, but it had been far too long since she had been hunting, far longer than she had intended. The practice was simply too risky to be entirely enjoyable - no matter pleasurable the rewards - and so she shied from it when she could. Nonetheless, Juliet knew would have to venture out again soon. Gary could only bring so many club-goers to her like this; plied with cheap vodka, unconscious and dead to the world. There would be only so many more times that he could haul a slack body through the back door of the shop. In time, the neighbours would catch him at it, and start to chatter ...

She dragged her mouth from the young man's neck - hesitantly, with a tiny slurp - and sat back on her heels. She combed her fingers through his hair with a fussy hand, though there was very little tenderness in the gesture. It came from Juliet's need for comforting order and neatness, not from any regard for her dinner. She considered going in for second helpings, but decided against it, and let her hand fall to her lap.

He was one of Gary's cronies, apparently, which was crime enough in Juliet's book. A politics major at the university, to boot. Therefore if he wasn't already rotten inside, there was still plenty of time for the maggots to get to him, and so she did not feel too bad for taking a sip or two - especially considering how damned ravenous she'd been. Besides, he was lucky it had been Juliet at his neck that night, rather than some over-zealous Gangrel or Brujah.

Illogical justifications, yes, but they'd have to do for tonight. Anyway, she was done now.

The neonate stood slowly, pulled her silk robe around her petite body, and smoothed down her long brown hair. “Gary,” she called politely, meaning to summon her Sire's ghoul. “Drive your friend home, if you would, it's getting late." A moment's pause. "Early, I mean. Oh, and lock the door behind you on the way out, please.”

Slipping out of the bathroom, Juliet went to her bedroom, and readied herself for another day's sleep. A scuffling noise from the bathroom assured her that Gary was doing his work.

She slid beneath the sheets, and settled down into that happy post-feeding glow. Gary might have been her Sire's pet, and a thoroughly objectionable person, but he was - on the whole - quite reliable.

-------------------------------

Invisible Castle Die Roller (www.invisiblecastle.com)
Die Roller Character Profile (jules_l)
Roll Perception roll for monthly hunt. 3d10.hits(6) → [1,6,3] = (1 Success)  
Result 3 blood points taken. Gary's probably not going to be happy about this. However, he's keen to look after Juliet. Anything to please Renard ...  

--Last edited by Juliet Locke on 2009-07-16 21:28:06 --