Santanico & Open
Amused. It described Santanico's mood at the moment. Watching the humans scurry about, setting out their food, cooking on something that caged fire, it was enough to make the vampire amused. If nothing else, it was a refreshing bit of entertainment. Oh, nothing could compete with Seth and his drug problems or outing that woman on the network. She didn't have to do anything, say anything, because Seth was so good at digging himself into a grave all by himself. Yes, she wanted to see him on his knees, struggling to breathe, to hold on to life, as he shook himself through withdrawal. A perfect torture in itself and when she was refused access to him, Santanico knew he was going through torture, with or without her there to initiate it. That knowledge satisfied her. Coming to this party or whatever it was Santanico hoped to catch a glimpse or two of the fallen half of what use to be the great Gecko brothers. When she offered to help, she'd volunteered because of Richie. Though they parted on bad terms, she doubted he would want to see his brother suffering; a glimpse of Seth's pain was a bonus for her alone. Pathetic. Richie was better off without Seth; the other brother would only bring him down and Santanico refused to let that happen ever. Richie was the key to the lock that set her free from the slavery of the Titty Twister. She needed him to help her destroy those who had put her in such a dark place; those that stole her light. And the biggest reason of all? She cared for him. Because she cared for Richard she would not kill his pathetic excuse for a brother, Seth.
Richie was here now, but she was unaware if he had made contact with his brother or the preacher's daughter. Santanico was confident that her influence over him was strong. She was certain he would not leave her side and Seth's obvious hate of her species made Richard choosing her a guarantee. Seth was a fool. She hadn't turned his brother into a monster, but she did open his eyes to the world in which he always was destined to belong to. Darkness. Freedom. A knowledge granted that humanity could never have offered despite however long he lived. No, he was good, but she'd gave him the chance to be great. Together, they would destroy those who sentenced Santanico to a life of servitude, of being caged, a prisoner for all eternity. Being here, in Hawaii or whatever this tropical land was called, was a minor derailment. They couldn't keep them here forever; they could not keep her here forever. Her and Richie would find a way out. The Titty Twister could not hold her and this place couldn't either.
Hungry. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a taste of blood. A week? Perhaps so much more. She despised how time flowed effortlessly here. The days blending together perfectly. How long had she been here? That too remained a mystery. She guessed a month, but it was just a guess. She had to get out of here before this place stole more than just time from her. These people, adapting to the world around them, making friends, family; it was disgusting. No, Santanico would not give up on finding a way back to Texas, to accomplishing her goal. She wasn't going to settle, to act as if this was home when looking around it clearly was anything, but. Sipping on a random cocktail, she tried to ignore the gnawing sensation in her stomach. Hunger. How long before she ripped this place apart to satisfy her monstrous thirst? No. Control. She had to remember why she was here: distraction and watching Seth, her only source of actual entertainment, bumbling around like the idiot they all knew he was. Maybe he had relapsed. Oh, Santanico would drink gleefully to that.