08-08-2018, 05:21 AM
[table][tr][td]
[td]
[/td]
[td]
So, so many things could go wrong with a fresh, beating heart amid a bunch of people that liked what fresh, beating hearts circulated. For one, vampires, it seemed (that's to disregard the blatantly small sample size, but who here was rallying all the vampires to check?), had a penchant for getting up in someone's face and never leaving them alone, and their incessantly blaring presences were just about enough to send that fresh beating heart around the bend. That was good for no one's heart at all. Double trouble.
That was to say, humans were fine. Tourists came and went, cameras around their necks, clothed to circumvent the heat but careful with appropriate coverage because the sun certainly burnt fiercer. Humans and vampires alike, UV-vulnerable roasty toasty princesses - both cut from the same cloth. Nothing had so great an effect as undiluted blood did, but blood ice cream was so good.
This girl, eyes giving the surroundings a cursory scan, had a stance almost entirely relaxed. She was humming. For Rialto's part, he strolled through the town in silence, sweeping past others with nary a glance between them. Somehow, even with his marketing attempts, there were few that truly committed him to memory; he didn't sell every day, and the days he kept himself flat (or as close to flat as possible, curled up with the floor radius being only three quarters of his height) in his carriage only accumulated. Seeing a human waiting for something on one of his walks, he wasn't in the least bit surprised.
"I can vouch for the Ferris wheel carriages, miss," Rialto piped up, flip flops crunching over gravel as he rounded the corner - really, impeccable timing - with idle fingers tugging the end of his ponytail. He had a smile spreading over his face, languid and bright, stopping on her other side and letting one of his hands fall onto his hip, counting off the other. "It's cold, cramped, creaky..." Then, totally honest, he dropped his arm and said, "I absolutely adore it." He flashed her another kind of smile, just a little more sly. "How about it?"
Now wasn't the time to scare people off by walking sideways across a building to meet them.
That was to say, humans were fine. Tourists came and went, cameras around their necks, clothed to circumvent the heat but careful with appropriate coverage because the sun certainly burnt fiercer. Humans and vampires alike, UV-vulnerable roasty toasty princesses - both cut from the same cloth. Nothing had so great an effect as undiluted blood did, but blood ice cream was so good.
This girl, eyes giving the surroundings a cursory scan, had a stance almost entirely relaxed. She was humming. For Rialto's part, he strolled through the town in silence, sweeping past others with nary a glance between them. Somehow, even with his marketing attempts, there were few that truly committed him to memory; he didn't sell every day, and the days he kept himself flat (or as close to flat as possible, curled up with the floor radius being only three quarters of his height) in his carriage only accumulated. Seeing a human waiting for something on one of his walks, he wasn't in the least bit surprised.
"I can vouch for the Ferris wheel carriages, miss," Rialto piped up, flip flops crunching over gravel as he rounded the corner - really, impeccable timing - with idle fingers tugging the end of his ponytail. He had a smile spreading over his face, languid and bright, stopping on her other side and letting one of his hands fall onto his hip, counting off the other. "It's cold, cramped, creaky..." Then, totally honest, he dropped his arm and said, "I absolutely adore it." He flashed her another kind of smile, just a little more sly. "How about it?"
Now wasn't the time to scare people off by walking sideways across a building to meet them.
© MADI
[/td][/tr][/table]