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Simon Randall (lg_fuad) wrote in light_of_may,

The last thing Simon wanted to do ever was to scare someone with his magic. It wouldn't be the first time someone had looked at him funny or reacted badly to what he could do - he could still remember that first conversation with Jolene, all those years ago. She'd been freaked out then and she straight up hated it now. The magic she could never wrap her head around, though his psychic abilities were somewhat easier to swallow when everything he saw with his powers did tend to come true. Thank god there weren't any tea leaves or runes for him to use now, because Simon did not want to see something else terrible happening. His mother was probably losing her mind right about now, and he wondered if she'd seen the bombing in advance, knowing he'd be there before Simon even made the decision to go. "Don't be sorry," he told Marco. "Trust me, I'm one of the good ones." Magic could cause some nasty shit to happen, and Simon wouldn't touch blood magic with a ten foot pole. His father had taught him better than that.

Seeing Bea begin to crawl over the sand, and feed on the dead? Of all the things Simon had seen that afternoon, that one was going to take the cake. He looked away, fighting the nausea that flooded him, and knelt in the sand so he wouldn't throw up. It was one thing to know that vampires fed on the blood of humans and another to see her feed on a corpse and - no. Just no. Hearing Marco's suggestion, Simon's head snapped up, because he distinctly heard him offering Bea blood. Kind of. Or asking about it. Either way, he was not for snacking, damn it! Besides, didn't psychic blood make vampires drunk, anyway? Or something like that? He was really going to have to start paying more attention to this things.