what have I done

"I do not remember." Isla's response was much too quick and much too certain to be anything but a lie, but it was clear that she didn't want to revisit the memory of that night. It had hurt, at first... and after that? She didn't know. But it hadn't been a pleasurable experience. Maybe that was because it had been Archebold, in a strange place and not knowing if she would survive the experience. Maybe. She grinned at his quip, flashing fangs for perhaps the first time since her ascension, rolling her eyes at him. "Well when you put it like that I suppose you have been rather useful." But they were hardly talking about an easy favour here. Isla rubbed at her temple, at the sluggish headache building there, and she found herself on her feet quite without realising she had done it, like her body knew not to turn down what was on offer. "Alright," she murmured, stepping forward and kneeling down before Remi's chair, holding out a hand for his wrist. "...Just like taking your pulse, huh?" ISLA Hush now, I'm here

Remi raised a curious brow but said nothing. It wasn't in his nature to pry, and honestly, the fact that it was Archebold spoke volumes. There was something about the man. So charismatic and charming, but those eyes...always so dark. So black. Nodding, Remi looked up at her with a soft sort of bewilderment as she rose and then knelt before him. It wasn't a position that necessarily made him feel better about this—some silent and latent thoughts about equality and sexuality and all that—but swallowing down the urge to laugh nervously, the alchemist merely nodded and grinned. "I do not remember you taking my pulse with your teeth before. Perhaps I was unconscious for that." He said with an easy smile, willingly offering his wrist to her. Too willingly. REMI Traded my soul to free my mind, "can I go back to being blind?" I ask myself one too many times

"You were unconscious. I couldn't help myself," Isla murmured with a smirk, glancing up at him and shaking her head. The jokes helped, especially considering what she was apparently about to do. How did she know her malaise was even the result of needing to do this anyway? What if she just needed to lie down? Or what if she was just in shock? The symptoms fit, after all... Her analysis of the situation and the mental gymnastics involved in finding alternatives to bleeding Remi dry melted away entirely as he offered out his wrist. If it was instinct it was one she hadn't possessed before tonight, but either way she reached out to take his hand, her thoughts and reservations silenced by the steady, rich thrum of blood in his veins. She could actually hear it, she thought. Rushing through his body in a way that made her teeth itch. Isla wanted to make another corny joke or witty comment, but the part of her brain that cared surrendered to the need to feed in moments. With one final gaze up at the alchemist, she let her fingertips dance across his wrist, bringing her lips close before sinking her fangs in deep. ISLA Hush now, I'm here

Remi felt his lips twitch in a vague smile, but he too was worlds away. Unlike Isla though who was propelled by instinct, the alchemist was merely caught in the ebb and flow of his own weakening will. Decades of being strong. Decades of saying no, and of resisting and being good and always striving for what he thought was right no matter the personal cost. And in the end, even after everyone told him to do what made him happy and to be with who he wanted, it hadn't mattered anyway. As Isla's fingertips ghosted across his wrist, Remi swallowed slowly. Before he could properly brace himself however, her teeth were upon him and the feeling of ecstasy it brought crashed down on him like a tidal wave he didn't even try to fight. And perhaps this was because it was Isla, and not Sam who'd been all but a stranger, Remi didn't even bother trying to bite down on the the moan of pleasure as it slipped from his lips. In her grasp Remi's fingers clenched, and in the haze of euphoric delights coursing through him, his eyes fell towards the mess of blond hair currently scattered over his lap and arm. Gasping in a shaky sip of air the alchemist felt his body all but melt into the chair, eyes squeezing shut as he panted in the throws of whatever chemical cocktail was at play. REMI What have I become? My sweetest friend—Everyone I know goes away in the end If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way

It didn't hurt. It didn't hurt at all. It was strange, at first, that hot and metallic flood against her lips and tongue, but a moment later and that didn't even matter. Ecstasy crackled along nerve endings all but fried from the Voice's ministrations, and Isla relaxed completely into it, thirsty and desperate for more. The evening had been a nightmare from which she would never awaken, but this... If there was still this to have, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Distantly she heard Remi's groan of pleasure, storing their reactions away for later scientific analysis, but for now? Now she just wanted more. Drawing deeply from his wrist, her grip on his hand tightened to keep him close, and she all but slumped against his lap, turning to lean her cheek against his inner thigh with his wrist still pressed to her mouth. Only after a startling moment of clarity did she think to release him and come up for proverbial air, her blue eyes glazed, her lips painted red. She had no idea how much she'd taken, too senseless still to ask. ISLA Hush now, I'm here

Through a fog the alchemist felt Isla's fingertips against his wrist. He should have wondered if she needed something, if she was alright, but all his mind frantically worried over was whether she was going to stop. Like being held just paces away from the brink of an orgasm Remi could only focus for slivers of a moment. Eyes opening he saw and felt her slump against him, the pressure of her against his thigh only adding a complicated chorus of sensations to what was already exploding like fireworks in his mind. And then it stopped. Having not realized that his entire body had been tensed, Remi relaxed seemingly all at once, eyes fluttering open, lips parted, and cheeks coral-red. His chest heaved steadily up and down as a breath hitched in his threat and he looked unsteadily and hazily down at Isla wondering... —was she okay? —did she feel it...? —were things weird? —was she going to do it again? REMI What have I become? My sweetest friend—Everyone I know goes away in the end If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way

Slowly, as if in a dream, Isla's tongue flicked out to clean the blood away, and she hummed gently as if to bring herself back into the here and the now. She still held Remi's wrist loosely between her fingers, the two neat wounds she'd created bleeding very sluggishly, but otherwise seeming fine. The coppery tang of him lay heavy on the air, Isla very gently holding his hand between her own. She turned to gaze up at him with hooded eyes, all but lounging back against him. "That was good," she murmured. "You're alright?" Of course the idea of doing it again was at the forefront of her mind; her psyche was in shreds and any sensation of comfort or pleasure was welcome. But Remi wasn't an infinite supply of blood, and Isla wasn't foolish enough to assume that he was so relaxed and listless just because of pleasure. Blood loss did that too. ISLA Hush now, I'm here

Remi's fingers twitched gently within her grasp, both seeking out her now unfeeling-skin but also recoiling in the aftermath of what she'd just done. "Yes." He mumbled in response to her first question, his lips feeling miles away as his senses slowly began to come back to him. It was good. Good in a way he had hoped for, but not expected, even after Sam. After all Sam was a man and Isla? Well Isla wasn't. He felt tingly from the blood loss, though as his eyes closed and he considered her question, all Remi could focus on was the pleasurable ripples that were quickly fading. His fingers clenched and unclenched as if stirring the blood in his arms would somehow be able to replicate Isla's touch, nah, her bite. "Yes." He said finally, unsteadily, though as he opened his pale gaze his eyes blazed with a heat that reflected in his cheeks and the flush creeping out of his shirt. Moving his fingers more gently this time pure to encourage his blood to continue circulating, Remi cleared his throat, sitting up slightly. "For work, my wrists might not be—" As he flexed his wrist the scab starting to form broke and a droplet of blood welled immediately to the surface. "—but somewhere else?" Not quite a plea, but despite how even now he wanted to force her teeth back against him, politeness stilled his tongue. "If you need more?" REMI What have I become? My sweetest friend—Everyone I know goes away in the end If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way

His agreement and his reassurance were both welcome, Isla closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensation of the fresh blood warming her throat and chest - and it was warmth too, fleeting as it was. She smiled weakly, releasing his hand as he began to clench and unclench his fist, arching an eyebrow at the gem of red that welled from one of the wounds. "Oh - of course, I'm sorry..." Remi did most of his work with his hands - it had been foolish of her to choose such a place. "I don't need more." Languidly she rose to her feet, her pale skin flushed with sustenance that was not her own. And it was true. She didn't need more. That said nothing for what she wanted, though. Turning, made brazen by the flood of pleasure, if Remi allowed Isla would settle herself across his lap, nestling her face against the side of his neck. Her hand came up to slide into his curls, angling his head just so, before she sank her teeth into him a second time. Blood welled into her mouth, rich and coppery, and her fingers tightened in his hair. ISLA Hush now, I'm here

The alchemist shook his head distractedly at her apology, indicating that it was entirely unnecessary. This was new to both of them after all. As she rose, Remi's eyes followed her ascent, resisting the urge to reach for her. It was strange, that compulsion to have her close. Isla was beautiful and one of his best friends here, but the alchemist had never thought of her that way before. Even now as he gazed at her, he felt a complicated array of emotions. She had caused him so much pleasure with her touch, and normally that was an indication of a sexual and physical desire and yet— The distance between them allowed some semblance of rationality to return to the alchemist's mind. That was until Isla turned and draped herself against him. With a small inhale of surprise, he felt himself moving slightly beneath her to adjust himself, hands feather-light against the backs of her arms as if he was some naive and shy boy too afraid to touch the skin of a girl. It wasn't that though, it was the paralysis that her nearness to his neck caused; the overwhelming anticipation of what he would feel if only she would just bite down. Leaning his head into her hand, as her teeth found the much thicker vein in his neck he came alive beneath her. His hands pressed inwards against the small of her back, drawing her closer to him as his chin raised slightly to allow her more purchase to his neck. With a moan he didn't even try to extinguish, a hand reached up into her disheveled hair, rounding his fingers against her skull to encourage her to press her lips more firmly against him. REMI What have I become? My sweetest friend—Everyone I know goes away in the end If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way

Pleasure exploded along nerve endings Isla was certain the Voice had extinguished - finding them very much alive was almost enough to make her weep. She was less interested in taking blood from Remi this time, and while she did drink, red still welled beneath the grip of her teeth, staining her mouth and trickling down his neck and chest. His fingers in her hair caused her to hum against him, her eyes slipping shut, body arching into his touch. It didn't matter in that moment that she had never thought of him as a lover before, that their friendship had been just that - that she could feel something was a high she didn't care to come down from, and it was only as she felt the flutter of his pulse that she realised they might be getting into dangerous territory here. With a gasp she released her jaws against his neck, the metallic tang on her lips nothing compared to the blood that soaked his shoulder. "Remi, I have to stop... for a bit... ISLA Hush now, I'm here

Remi had always been a generous lover. A good deal of that owed to the many women he'd been with; it was simply easier to pleasure them than to try and coax his body to submitting to their ministrations, skilled as they might have been. Perhaps that's why, given that for all intents and purposes Isla was the one doing all of the 'work', he found his hands slipping against her skin, kneading and pulling her against him. Indeed the high they crested was so consuming that despite the amount of blood Isla was pulling up, enough had managed to well and pool and engorge him further south; something that she'd undoubtedly feel. It was only as she released him, a shaky exhale shuddering from his lips that he felt the warm wetness against his shoulder. Alarmingly he found he didn't care. Indeed his fingertips tensed against Isla's body and he had to bite the inside of his lip hard to keep from forcing her back against him. Closing his eyes and exhaling a long and shaky breath, he nodded, though he didn't want to. Like being pushed just to the brink of orgasm only to be told to wait, Remi tried to steer his mind elsewhere, but of course it wasn't his mind doing this, but the chemical cocktail Isla's teeth had infused into his body. Running a hand across his eyes, Remi exhaled again perhaps a fraction more steadily as his eyes flashed upon and he looked at Isla. Lips stained red with his own blood he was fascinated by how little he cared. "Feel any better?" He asked, the colour still high in his cheeks and the rising and falling of his chest still not quite steady yet. REMI What have I become? My sweetest friend—Everyone I know goes away in the end If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way

Almost on autopilot, but lazy with the pleasure of the feed, Isla shifted to take the handkerchief from her pocket, folding it and pressing it against the wound in Remi's neck. As she did so it was impossible not to feel his excitement pressing against her, and she regarded him as though seeing him for the very first time. They were in a frightful state, both of them - flushed with lingering ecstasy, covered in blood... speaking of which, she didn't know how much Remi actually had left. With one hand still pressed over the handkerchief, she gently loosed the other from his curls, absently brushing them back from his face to better examine him. Did she feel any better? With a lopsided smile she nodded, before flicking a glance southwards. "Uh... do you?" ISLA Hush now, I'm here

As she shifted in his lap the alchemist had to stifle a groan, one of his hands curling distractedly into a fist as his nails dug into his palm. Never before had been so bound to the physical whims of his body as he was now. All his life he'd simply resisted placing himself in situations where his needs could get the better of him. Recently with Loren and Ianto once he'd decided to take the plunge, there'd been no need to hold back. Though his better nature would surely win out over the petulant screams of his body (it would, wouldn't it?) Remi was finding the war terribly hard. Among other things. As the medic placed pressure against his neck with the handkerchief, he stared into her pebble-blue eyes. Tasting the metallic pang of blood on his lip from where he'd bit it moments ago, the alchemist's nostrils flared ever so slightly as a wave of need and desire crested. A hand still in her hair, Remi would try to bring Isla to him if he could, pressing his lips against hers. It wasn't the awkward almost familial kiss one might expect from two friends who had never considered each other sexual partners before this moment, nor was it tentative and hesitant. Instead it was searching and needing, as if in the blood still staining her lips and tongue he might somehow find the answer to what exactly (he was letting) happen. Releasing her, Remi gave her a sly smile knowing exactly to what her lowering gaze had been referring to. Running a hand across his forehead, he chuckled airily. "Yes and no." He admitted with a shrug. REMI What have I become? My sweetest friend—Everyone I know goes away in the end If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way