InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I put it down for my hood!"

bleached_wonder (bleached_wonder) wrote in mirage_rpg,
@ 2009-02-08 18:33:00

Entry tags:

astor bennett, complete, day 31, spike

Who: Spike and Open :)
When: Day 31 morning
What: Spike gets a snack..
Rating: PG or lower so far.
Status: Incomplete

Spike grumbled, sniffing the air around him, he was hungry enough to eat a whole restaurant full of people. Of course his soul wouldn't let him do that, so he'd have to settle for blood from a fridge or something. If he could find where the damn kitchens in this place were. He'd had a rough night, he normally slept in the day, but hadn't really had a chance, so he'd decided to catch up in the night, so he'd be fresh for whatever was thrown at him next. Stupid soul seemed intent on sending him insane. Again.

All he ever dreamt about was blood, killing,. the chase, his prey, the pounding of all the blood around him, then he'd dream of sceams, and pleads that he'd ignored. A million faces in terror, all the people he'd kill. He felt guility. But he didn't feel as bad as he should, it just annoyed him. Everyone expected him to feel so bad, to want to repent. He did feel bad, he wouldn't do it again. But he couldn't have helped it. He didn't have a soul then. They were his natraul prey. Did they feel bad about the animals they mass killed for their substance? He doubted it. Did lions feel bad when they ate gazelles? Nope, so he didn't dwell on it. Didn't stop the dreams and the nagging guilty feeling though.

He made it across to the main building as the first rays of light came up. So he'd be hanging round here for the day then. He found the big kitchens. Ignoring all the smells of humans, amongst other things, the heartbeats, voices he could hear, the emotions he could smell and hear, walking to the counter. "Now planet, if I get this straight I just ask for what I want right now." he remembered that mercy chick the day before asking for the sun to be blocked so he could walk around in daylight. He ignored anyone who could have been in there, not really caring if they thought he was crazy.

"Now some O-negative, at body temperature would be bloody beautiful.." He thought about two steaming bags of blood, and could feel himself salivating. Looking around, before starting as he saw his mental picture become reality on the counter before him. He vamped out, smelling the rich scent of blood. Moaning as he found a mug and using a fang to break a whole in the bag and pouring the steaming bag half in. Taking sip, game face still he moaned loudly. Perfect. A little artificial tasting, not real genuine, fresh out of the human, but pretty close, and in a whole different league to pigs blood.

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miami_angel97
2009-02-09 01:47 pm UTC (link)

"Fifteen minutes," she replied at his question of how much longer until the cinnamon rolls were done. Her eyes were still on her feet, because she was still uncomfortable with herself. Even if Spike seemed to understand exactly who she was and how she worked, he wasn't like her anymore, he'd said. Astor was alone. Without Dexter, no one would ever be just like her, she was coming to realize, and it was a very, very lonesome and sad feeling that was overcoming her at the thought. She sighed. The cinnamon rolls had seemed like a really good idea at the time, but with every minute that went by, Astor had less and less of an appetite. The cinnamon rolls didn't sound so good, anymore.

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