Ragged Company

[Robert Cross]

Cross watches as events unfold. From a vantage, a remove, that is clearly denied Alice. Not simply because he is a third party here, but because (unlike her) he is not starving.

And what he sees is not pretty, although it is the way of things. The Damned are meant to feed upon the living. To haunt their nights. To remind them that nothing, nowhere, in this world is safe.

Still, watching Alice make a meal of this Breather in such a brutal, feral, fashion, leaves Cross with a feeling of dread. Further, while it is the place of the Damned to hunt, and feed upon, the Kine, it is not meant for them to slaughter their prey outright. For such is wasteful and impious.

And Cross can't tell if Alice will stop.

What choice does he have? Letting the cloak drop, the Burned Man strides quickly out of the shadows to Alice's side. A scarred hand is place lightly on her shoulder.

He speaks softly, so softly that only she will hear him, trying to bring Her back, "Alice, enough..."

[Alice Hart]

Blood, rich and succulent surrounds this monster's entire existence.

She swallows it down, indecent, breathy moans escape the Girl-who-was-more-Wraith.

The voice doesn't register, but the hand does. The burnt scent invades the Wraith's paradise.

Hissing, Alice spins around, her back to her prey, protecting it from an intruder. Blood on her lips, coating her chin, and staining her cloths.

A timeless moment.

An unseen war between girl and monster, were her amethysts still shining Robert would have seen the war within. He would have known that there was hope in that moment to bring Alice back from the brink. But she has no eyes, and so Robert only witnesses her stillness, the blood dripping from her chin, her prey bleeding out behind her.

The moment ends, reason wins out. She was herself, and not lost in the throws of Frenzy. So Alice falls to her knees twisting behind her, she licks at the wounds.

...but would it be enough?

[Robert Cross]

At Alice's sudden move to defend her prey, Cross takes a step back, opening up a little space between them.

They've arrived at a delicate moment. Everything hangs in the balance. Suddenly, the dread Cross has been feeling finds its true and proper cause: will he have to restrain her? Drag her away? His mind retreats before that possibility.

And then there's the blood. The sight of it on her pale skin. The smell, intoxicating in the night air. Despite feeding earlier, the prospect of joining the Doll is enticing, all too enticing. His Beast rages, strains.

"Alice," he struggles to speak, though his voice is still soft. "Please."

When she spins back around, Cross is once again seized by that dread. You have to stop her. He steps closer and is relieved to see her lick the wound, pull away.

The Burned Man crouches down, offers his hand, careful not to look at the Kine, to keep his eyes on her. Still unsure whether he's speaking to Alice Hart, Priscus of Clan Nosferatu and Seneschal of the Domain or the Wraith, but unwilling to shrink from the task before him. Unwilling to give up on the one he loves.

"Come on. Let's get out of here."

[Alice Hart]

She felt stupid.

She shouldn't have asked Robert to drive her out here.

She didn't want him to see her like this!

His paradoxically nauseating, comforting and lately arousing, scent comes closer and she shrinks away.

She's in this mess because she'd been more monster then person, and here she was...doing it again.

Eventually Alice backs into the jean clad leg of the person who's throat she'd torn out.

"I'm sorry." she says, but of course it doesn't and wont sound like she means it. "I'm sorry."

Alice doesn't know if she's saying it to Robert or the body on the ground.

[Robert Cross]

Somewhere, deep down, a pulse of anger. Like a flash of lightning on the horizon.

There’s no time for this. Not when they’re exposed, and she’s covered in blood.

His proffered hand, ignored, instead takes up the wrist of the unconscious Kine. Feeling for a pulse. It’s there, faint but there.

He drops the limp hand, almost carelessly, and returns his eyes to Alice.

“There’s time for apologies later.” Not that you need to. Not that it matters. “Right now, we need to get back to the car. You shouldn’t be out here like this.” A subtle nod to her blood stained clothing.

The Burned Man stands, puts his hand on her shoulder.

“Alice, let’s go.” A note of urgency in his voice now.

[Alice Hart]

Robert is there. His scent surrounds her and the Doll, could almost forget about the blood scent thick on the air.

"Right. Right." A jerking nod. None of the inhuman precision and grace that she'd been showing before. "The car..." Alice brings a bone pale hand to her face, it's slick. Her tongue sweeps her lips, catching any of the blood that remind, the hand drops to her chest and she feels the dampness of her shirt. "Okay." another shaking nod.

This time she leans into the scarred hand.

Comfort stolen before she pushes herself up onto her feet.

"Right. I can't. We can't. We should." she mumbles her words as she stumbles back towards where'd she'd come. Trusting that the Burned Man will lead her back to the car, she needed to be more vigilant. No more going this long without feeding.

she can't be an animal.

[Robert Cross]

Cross drapes an arm over Alice's shoulders, supporting and guiding her back toward the vehicle. Silent, but there, by her side.

The Burned Man feels hollow, drained. Where dread and even anger had once lodged itself in his undead chest, there is now only an empty space. In some respects, it's comforting. All that is left is the need to get away, with no other emotions to interfere.

Once at the car, he opens the passenger side door, helping her get in, and shutting it after her.

Rounding the front end, his eyes once again land on Alice's prey, crumpled on the ground. Alive but unmoving.

As a mortal is a sheep, so are the Damned wolves among them. The line occurs to him, a sort of mantra, a sort of prayer.

Alice hears his door open, hears him slide into the driver's seat. The door closes.

"Ok," he says. "Let's go home."

End Scene