Why should I? I think I missed the memo where we're friends. The big red guy tossing me through a chimney didn't rattle my brains enough to forget you're a dick.
[And she's not quite drunk enough to think letting him in is a good idea, although part of her is feeling just self-destructive enough not to close the door just yet. She's curious despite herself.]
I did come all this way. I suppose I'll invite myself.
[He pushes past her, likely to prove the point that he can. That old chestnut about needing an invitation circulates in his world. Only crazy vampires actually convince themselves it's true.]
[Faith curses under her breath when he pushes past. Of course, it's her luck that it seems almost nothing that she knows about vampires in her world holds true for him. Because why would she ever be that lucky? She also doesn't really have the strength to stop him, despite being healed. She's still much too weak. That's not even taking into account the amount she's had to drink.
Watching him head in, Faith has no idea what to do other than play along. What else can she do?] Under the sink, I think. From the previous owner.
[Faith sure hadn't bought one herself. To be honest, she hadn't bought much of anything. Her apartment is fairly spartan other than the weapons laid out on a shelf. A stake, sword, daggers, and of course the crossbow which he no doubt remembers.]
The funny thing is I could have guessed that part without having to be told.
[He calls over his shoulder. Once in the kitchen, he fetches the vase and runs some water into it.]
I don't suppose you have sugar?
[How does he even know cut flowers need it? It's one of those facts that bubbles up from nowhere in the deep recesses of little used knowledge. Always odd to him when it happens.]
[She grabs the beer she's been drinking off the counter, keeping her distance, putting the small dining table between them. It's all pointless, she knows how fast he can move. Still.]
You going to tell me why you're really here? I know you don't actually care that I got hurt.
You can take interest in something without caring, yes? You wound up in a fight with something infernal.
[He pulls down the sugar and pours a bit into the vase, giving it a few sloshy swirls to dissolve it. After replacing it in the cabinet, he turns his attention to the flowers.
It will never be his day job. (Ha.) But the arrangement is sufficiently neat and orderly by the time he's done.]
I wouldn't advise taking a sniff. They're more for show, I'm afraid. Now, what do you recall of it? Did you get any blows in? Get any of its blood on you?
[The flowers are pretty, but she's not going to admit that out loud to him of all people.]
He flew down and demanded I join him. Then when I told him to fuck off, he immediately tried to kill me. I was able to dodge him and get on his back. My knife broke trying to stab him before he took flight with me still on him.
So no blood. Just mine. Sorry to disappoint you. [She doesn't seem that sorry.]
Right, I'm sure you're just chomping at the bit to play good samaritan and help stop him. [She believes that about as much as the idea that he came here with any sort of good intent.
A frown forms on her lips at the mention of Hellboy still rampaging the Down. Thanks for that oh so helpful reminder that people are being hurt and meanwhile she's up here doing nothing. There's nothing she can do, except get her ass handed to her again, but it still sucks.]
So. Flowers given. [She gestures to the door.] You can leave now.
If it's getting you what you want, I'm sure you can play at anything.
[Except she's not entirely sure what it is that he does want. To bite her again? Something more than that? He'd followed her blood all the way here, so maybe that is all that this is about.
She wrinkles her nose at him. Speaking of drinking, she's going to go right back to that, thanks. Lifting the beer, she rattles it at him before taking a swig and setting the empty bottle aside.] Yes, see? I can be self-destructive all on my own without your help. Follow my blood trail out, the same way you came then, please and thank you.
[He does have what he wants. Her address. The rattle of letting himself in. The doubt of the flowers. There's something to be said for a slow build of pressure over time, not to mention most draw strength from anger. It's the place of uncertainty that builds weakness.
His smile is perfectly pleasant and bland. It even reaches his eyes.]
If you insist. Enjoy the flowers. Next time I'll just bring a cheap six-pack.
[Yeah. There will be a next time. He starts for the door.]
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If, you know...it could be.
[Is he 100% full of shit? It's probably a safe assumption, but he looks entirely sincere.]
So, are you going to invite me in?
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[And she's not quite drunk enough to think letting him in is a good idea, although part of her is feeling just self-destructive enough not to close the door just yet. She's curious despite herself.]
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[He pushes past her, likely to prove the point that he can. That old chestnut about needing an invitation circulates in his world. Only crazy vampires actually convince themselves it's true.]
Have a vase?
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Watching him head in, Faith has no idea what to do other than play along. What else can she do?] Under the sink, I think. From the previous owner.
[Faith sure hadn't bought one herself. To be honest, she hadn't bought much of anything. Her apartment is fairly spartan other than the weapons laid out on a shelf. A stake, sword, daggers, and of course the crossbow which he no doubt remembers.]
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[He calls over his shoulder. Once in the kitchen, he fetches the vase and runs some water into it.]
I don't suppose you have sugar?
[How does he even know cut flowers need it? It's one of those facts that bubbles up from nowhere in the deep recesses of little used knowledge. Always odd to him when it happens.]
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[She grabs the beer she's been drinking off the counter, keeping her distance, putting the small dining table between them. It's all pointless, she knows how fast he can move. Still.]
You going to tell me why you're really here? I know you don't actually care that I got hurt.
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[He pulls down the sugar and pours a bit into the vase, giving it a few sloshy swirls to dissolve it. After replacing it in the cabinet, he turns his attention to the flowers.
It will never be his day job. (Ha.) But the arrangement is sufficiently neat and orderly by the time he's done.]
I wouldn't advise taking a sniff. They're more for show, I'm afraid. Now, what do you recall of it? Did you get any blows in? Get any of its blood on you?
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He flew down and demanded I join him. Then when I told him to fuck off, he immediately tried to kill me. I was able to dodge him and get on his back. My knife broke trying to stab him before he took flight with me still on him.
So no blood. Just mine. Sorry to disappoint you. [She doesn't seem that sorry.]
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[Would he have tried? Absolutely not. Infernal blood is more valuable than wasting it on heroics is worth.]
As it is, I suppose everyone down there is still at its mercy.
[Done fiddling with the flowers, he turns to face her. The table between them is laughable, but he makes no move to show it.]
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A frown forms on her lips at the mention of Hellboy still rampaging the Down. Thanks for that oh so helpful reminder that people are being hurt and meanwhile she's up here doing nothing. There's nothing she can do, except get her ass handed to her again, but it still sucks.]
So. Flowers given. [She gestures to the door.] You can leave now.
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[So suspicious! Good girl. He's not trying very hard to hide his amusement.]
I followed your blood trail all this way. Such a lack of hospitality.
[He clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth.]
If you truly wish to drown yourself in a bottle, far be it from me to stop you.
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[Except she's not entirely sure what it is that he does want. To bite her again? Something more than that? He'd followed her blood all the way here, so maybe that is all that this is about.
She wrinkles her nose at him. Speaking of drinking, she's going to go right back to that, thanks. Lifting the beer, she rattles it at him before taking a swig and setting the empty bottle aside.] Yes, see? I can be self-destructive all on my own without your help. Follow my blood trail out, the same way you came then, please and thank you.
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His smile is perfectly pleasant and bland. It even reaches his eyes.]
If you insist. Enjoy the flowers. Next time I'll just bring a cheap six-pack.
[Yeah. There will be a next time. He starts for the door.]