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Pearl's hand claws uselessly at the pavement, blunt nails scraping concrete, and another wet groan digs its way out of her throat. Too weak to even lift her arm. If this woman keeps hovering over her like that, just barely within reach, Pearl is going to lose whatever's been left of her mind.

"No," she hisses through hard-grit teeth, but then her features soften, glassy blue eyes wide with need: "Please."

Something about the look in the woman’s eyes hits Garnet at her core, and she finds herself nodding in affirmation. She can’t leave her here, and she doesn’t seem able to make it anywhere on her own, so the only solution is to carry her back to her apartment. She tries very hard not to think about how this could possibly be a bad idea, because she knows she’d never forgive herself if she proceeded any differently.

Shifting to steady herself, she grabs ahold of the woman’s arms, attempting to pull her into a sitting position in front of her. She’ll be able to pick her up more easily that way, although from the slightly disturbing feel of her arms she might hardly weigh anything at all. “I can carry you to my house,” she explains, just in case her intentions are unclear.

Dimly, Pearl nods. Though there's a faint tension in her gut at the thought of being taken to a stranger's house -- leftover fear from her days as a human, no doubt -- she know this is the best chance she can hope to get. Away from prying eyes. Away from people who could hear her scream.

"Is that," she pauses, swallows, "okay?"

How explicit an invitation she needs, she doesn't know. But she can't afford to risk it.

The question seems kind of odd, even coming from someone in such a state, though Garnet has to admit she's wondering the same thing herself. But now that she's made a decision, she won't let herself back down from it. It's not like this is forever. If there's any trouble at home she still has the option to call for help, and it doesn't seem likely that this frail woman could possibly overpower her.

"Yeah, sure," she says, looping her arms under the woman's knees and under her arms. She's almost as light as she looks, and it takes little effort at all for Garnet to get back on her feet and shift her into a more balanced carrying position. Since there's really no need to hesitate anymore, she starts off in the direction of her apartment.

Pearl's muscles offer no protest as the woman lifts her up -- couldn't if she willed them to, and for some reason the realization is funny enough to make her laugh. A clipped, odd sound, nasal and abnormally high.

God, she's a mess. If Amethyst saw her now, she'd never hear the end of it. If Rose saw... no, don't think of that. Pearl clenches her jaw and shuts her eyes.

The stranger's hold is steady around her, and with Pearl's heightened senses honed further by desperation, she finds herself hyper-aware of every little detail: the coiled web of muscles in her arms, the thrum of blood through her pulse points, the warmth of her flesh and her heartbeat, so tantalizingly close to her ear.

Amidst her starved, frenzied haze, the strangest thought floats up to her mind--

This is nice.

A safe, warm feeling. She hasn't been picked up like this since she was a child. But that's a whole lifetime ago now, isn't it?

A prickling pressure forms behind her eyes, and Pearl sniffs against it, her closed eyelids twitching.

Garnet spends almost the entire trek to her apartment looking over the woman in her arms, feet taking her home automatically. Studying her, Garnet can’t imagine how she ended up in such a state. Though she’s certainly dirty, she doesn’t have the look her of someone who has been homeless for very long, and it seems as if she’s telling the truth about being uninjured. But how did she end up starving on the sidewalk? Why is she so against outside help, but fine with a stranger carrying her into her house? For that matter, why is Garnet fine with being that stranger?

Another glance at her face says exactly why: she looks so pathetic. Not in a negative way, exactly, but in a way that makes her feel compelled to try to help. She’s clearly been through a lot recently, and it now appears as if she might be about to cry… She pulls her a little closer as she notices, unsure how else she could offer any comfort at this point. It seems like she needs the embrace, anyway: she feels oddly cool against Garnet’s own warm chest.

It's is short-lived, however, as she reaches her apartment door. Garnet doesn’t want to place her on the ground, especially now that she's noticed how cold she is, and standing up is clearly out of the question. So she shifts the woman’s weight onto one arm, awkwardly digging into her pocket for keys and unlocking the door with the other. Just a few more feet and she’ll be able to deposit her onto the couch.

“I’ll find you a blanket and get you some leftovers,” she explains as she shuts the door behind her, feeling like she ought to say something now that they’ve entered her apartment. She doesn't want her guest to feel unwelcome.

The door slams behind them, and Pearl can barely hear a word. Her mind is suddenly knifepoint-sharp, her sniveling self-pity buried beneath a predator's instinct. This is it, this is her chance, she has to act now now now--

The upsurge of adrenaline floods her muscles with new strength, and before the woman can take her third step inside, Pearl jolts upright, bared fangs charging towards her throat.

Caught completely off-guard, Garnet cries out in fear, releasing her hold and beginning to shove herself away. The woman-- the monster, is clinging to her, and her only immediate coherent thought is get her off.

Adrenaline helps Garnet along here, her limbs moving nearly of their own accord as she kicks and punches anywhere she can land a blow.

The retaliation expected, Pearl clings to her victim with all four limbs, nails sinking into her back. The second the skin tears and the first drops of blood hit her tongue, Pearl feels alive. Her fangs grow longer and her claws dig deeper and every bit of guilt she's ever felt about feeding vanishes into thin air. This, this is bliss, this is absolutely everything, and she never wants this moment to end.

But the woman is strong, and the woman is struggling, and Pearl is still weakened from days of starvation. She is only able to resist for so long; a coarse howl tears itself from her throat as an elbow to her abdomen finally shatters her grip and knocks her hard onto the floor.

Pearl lands on her hands and knees, head snapping up with a snarl that reveals fangs like a hyena's, bone-white and dripping red. Her once-delicate features are contorted in a way no human face should, milky eyes frenzied and unfocused. Now that she's had a taste, she can't, she won't be stopped. Springing forward, she chains her arms around the human's left leg, aiming for the pulse point closest within reach -- the femoral artery.

The pain of the bite is momentarily so excruciating that Garnet can’t help but scream. This pain, however, seems to give her enough extra adrenaline to break free from the woman’s grip, sending her reeling to the floor. Automatically Garnet’s hand goes to her neck, fingers meeting sticky, fresh blood. She’s not sure if it’s real or her imagination, but she swears she can feel the heavy pulsing of her own heartbeat in the wound, and it makes her stomach lurch. How--

Unfortunately, just as soon as she’s rid of her she’s coming back again, leaving Garnet no time to even finish her thought. Her face is grotesquely inhuman, far worse than the look she’d had in her eyes just before she attacked. But the terror this brings only serves Garnet, giving her a second wave of renewed strength. She pulls her arm back, fingers clenching into a tight fist. With this… this thing closing in on her thigh, she summons all the power she can muster as she punches down, aiming for the nose with deep grunt.

Pearl's vision explodes into fireworks as the blow sends her hurtling back, shoulder blades slamming against the corridor wall. She's nowhere near as graceful in recovering this time, the hot burst of pain that shoots through her body leaving her momentarily paralyzed.

Rage etches ugly lines into her already-deformed face, and she staggers forward with a sharp hiss, movements losing their balance already. Her vision dances before her, smeared at the edges -- it's hard to retain any sort of strategy through the exhaustion and the hunger and the pain and need, and it's not long before she's blindly clawing at the woman's legs, desperate for any inch of skin to sink her teeth into.

It’s getting clearer to Garnet that her adversary is weakening, which makes her feel like she might truly have a chance at overpowering her. As ridiculous as the notion would have seemed to her any day before this, the word vampire keeps popping into her head through the static of terror. Is that what this is? If vampires are real and this woman is a vampire, is it misguided to think she has any chance at making it out of this alive?

No, she will to make it out of this alive. She had never been one to give up, and she isn’t about to start now. Especially when this probable vampire has been reduced to only clawing at her legs. She’s tearing at the skin, but is nowhere near doing the type of damage she’d inflicted on Garnet’s neck.

Seeing a potential opportunity in the woman's increasingly erratic movements, she backs away just out of reach. Trying to time it correctly, she circles back around to slam her foot hard between the woman’s shoulder blades, pressing her weight into it as hard as she can in an attempt to pin her down.

"Augh!"

Pearl crashes into the floor face-first. Her fangs jut into her lower lip, and the fluid that seeps into her mouth then isn't the hot, intoxicating lifeblood that danced on her tongue just moments before, but instead cold, bitter copper. The taste forces its way out of her mouth in a wet cough, the vile substance splattering onto the floor.

Pearl's head is spinning, and her muscles cry out in pain over the weakening rush of adrenaline. No matter how she struggles and thrashes and growls, the woman's weight keeps her trapped against the floor.

How did it turn out like this? Wasn't this her salvation, some higher power taking pity on her at last? It's shouldn't be this hard. This woman's only human, she shouldn't be this strong!

Amethyst's laughter echoes between her temples as the thought flashes across the forefront her mind:

Or you're just that pathetically weak.

With a furious wail of helplessness, Pearl slams her bony fists against the floor. "Let-- me-- feed!"

Even with her resolve to live, Garnet is surprised when pinning this woman down is actually that easy. She’d been gearing herself up for a considerably longer fight, or at least significantly more resistance than she’s being met with. Instead, it seems she’s gone from terrifying monster to a toddler throwing a temper tantrum in the span of… minutes? How long has it even been?

Her fear is quickly dissolving into red hot anger, and the woman’s words are more than enough to set her off. First she tricks her into thinking she's weak, into carrying her right into her own home, and now she has the nerve to demand Garnet just offer up her blood without a fight? For the moment at least she has the upper hand, and she's very well going to use it. She grinds her heel into the woman's spine, if only to remind her she's in no position to be making demands. “Let you feed? Why would I let you kill me?”

Pearl's body crumples beneath the pain with a useless sputter of protest, fingers unfurling limply from her palms. The burst of energy from moments before has completely dissipated now, the last remaining specks ground to nothing beneath the woman's heel.

And when she speaks to her, that voice pierces through the fog encasing her mind, stabbing into the one spot at it's core that's yet to be consumed by hunger.

Kill me--

Kill--

Pearl wheezes out a strangled breath as a shudder shakes her pale frame, all the way from the crown of her head to her cold, cold toes. Whatever possessed her features seems to drain away, leaving blue eyes gaping open, parted lips dripping with still-fresh blood.

The realization is sharp and cold enough to scatter the haze in a matter of moments. Pearl almost killed her. No-- she would have, if she could.

Isn't that exactly what she tried to run away from?

"I can't. I won't do it."

"He died a gentle death, Pearl. He was sedated to complete unconsciousness when I snapped his neck -- as brief and painless as can be, I promise."

"That doesn't matter! This was a person! He had a life, he had a family, he was somebody, and now I'm going to just... feed from him? Like he's nothing?"

"Refusing won't bring him back, now."

Pearl had said nothing, only stared down in the floor with a set jaw and trembling fists.

"Sweetheart," a hand beckoned at her shoulder, smoothing down her back, "we all need to eat. That instinct is part of you; there's no use trying to outrun it. It will catch up, every time. And when it does, dear Pearl, I promise you'll regret it."

She was right. She was so, so right, and Pearl was so stupid.

"I... I, ah..."

Her attempt to speak is indistinguishable from moans of pain, and Pearl's chest heaves in a desperate attempt to summon air from her black, dead lungs. Did she really believe she knew better? She thought she could-- what? Escape it? Rise above it? Defeat it, somehow?

Of course not. This is what she is, now.

In that moment, she breaks. The dam of sticks and dirt she'd struggled to hold up shatters effortlessly beneath the reality: she will never be a person again. She will never be able to go back to her life. This body is no longer hers to control -- it is a vicious, mindless, ever-starved animal, and she is trapped within.

Whatever semblance of her is left.

The sob tears through her throat like the cry of the dying, raw and warbled and pleading for help when it's already far, far too late. "I'm s-so sorry," Pearl whimpers against the floor, body quaking so hard that her teeth clack together with every word. "I'm s-sorry. I'm a monster."

Everything is happening so fast that Garnet can’t even pin down how she feels anymore. Her chest is heaving with exertion, and she is dimly aware of the blood trickling down her neck... The attack still has her angry, and the threat of too much blood loss is still a possibility. The fear and the rage, they’re certainly still there, but somehow she can feel the original pity and compassion she felt for this woman bubbling back up to the surface as she shakes under her foot. Garnet fights to keep them down; this woman attacked her after all. She tried to kill her...

At least, Garnet’s fairly certain she would have died. Isn’t that how this plays out on television? Stories are her only frame of reference here, but she can't exactly be sure how accurate they are. Is this woman even a vampire? She seems to fit the classic description: the teeth, the biting, the bloodlust... Would she have drained her of all her blood if given the chance, or would she only have taken a little? She certainly seems starved enough to have done so, and in the moment didn't seem to have any self-control. But if she could attack anyone that viciously, why is she so weak? At first Garnet had been chalking it up to an act, just a ploy to gain access to her house, but it's becoming more and more likely that this woman really is desperate. And what sort of self-respecting vampire in any story was ever a trembling mess on someone's floor, somewhat easily overpowered by a human? If she's so hungry, and seems capable of being strong, why is she wasting away like this? Why did she let herself get into such a state? And if she really is a monster (is admitting to being a monster), why is she so upset about what she's done? Monsters don't have remorse.

It’s clear that no matter what she is, this woman is an absolute disaster, and the sobbing is becoming a bit hard to take. Garnet doesn’t remove her foot entirely but she does ease up on the pressure, only keeping it lightly hovering there just in case this is all another trick. She needs to keep her on the floor, keep her vulnerable, at least until she can get some answers.

“Tell me why I should believe you’re sorry,” she demands, voice rough with both exhaustion and emotion, “Tell me what you are.”

Pearl's head is throbbing, pulsing, pounding so hard that she can barely hear the words. And between her heaves and sobs, it's a long moment before she's able to form a response. She has to make her believe her? How would she? What point is there even to trying? Pearl doesn't deserve forgiveness. She was going to kill this woman, she was going to feed on her blood, and Pearl could choke on her tears and her apologies and it won't change a thing. It won't change what she's done, it won't change what she is.

"I'm a, a vampire."

The word twists on her tongue with the rotting burn of acid, dropping like like a leaded coin from her lips onto the floor. It's the first time she's had to say the word aloud, and her sobs grow all the deeper once it's left her, seeming more violent than her wiry frame should be able to take.

Edited 2015-07-25 14:47 (UTC)

Garnet blinks, unsure how to even proceed here. Why is this woman so upset? Just a few minutes ago they’d been fighting, and now she’s just a sobbing mess on her living room floor. Weren’t vampires supposed to be… glad to be vampires? The sight invokes enough empathy, however, that she removes her foot from the woman’s back. She’s fairly certain now that she won’t try anything, or at least that she wouldn’t be able to be sneaky about it.

She doesn’t fail to notice that her first demand was glossed over, but it’s not like she can’t come back to it. If this woman will readily admit to being a vampire, maybe it will be easier to get her to talk about that, if she can manage to talk anymore at all. And if she’s honest with herself, Garnet really does want to know more. Maybe further questioning along these lines will also help her decide what to do, because at the moment she isn’t sure what her plans are for when this is over. Let her go, to allow her to attack someone else? Find a way to kill her, despite how uneasy the thought is starting to make her feel? Keep her as some sort of weird prisoner to avoid having to actually choose between the two?

“Are you actually starved?" is Garnet's next question, hoping the answer to that will lead to something.

Edited 2015-07-25 15:19 (UTC)

Pearl can barely register the weight removed from her back, face pressed into the dampened floor tiles as if she were still pinned to them.

"Yes," she sniffs near-inaudibly, a black surge of self-hate coiling within her at the admission. She's so weak, so helpless before this hunger, even as her mind is screaming that she doesn't want to feed. Useless, useless, monster.

Feeling less and less like she’s in any immediate danger, Garnet lowers her guard further. She brings her hand up to press against the wound at her neck, hoping to stop any more flow of blood. Despite herself, she feels more and more like she might want to help this woman, though she isn’t sure if it’s for her sake or for the sake of possible future victims.

“Can you only drink human blood?” Maybe animal blood would work, though Garnet’s not sure where you could even find that.

Edited 2015-07-25 16:00 (UTC)

"N-no, any," she answers too readily, a far cry from someone who two weeks ago refused to even feed from a street rat. Only the next moment does it occur to Pearl how strange the question is. It might be nothing more than her own frenetic delusions, but it's almost as though this stranger is thinking of... feeding her?

Blinking rapidly to try and clear her vision, Pearl tilts her head to try and catch sight of the woman's face. Between her vertigo and the insistent flow of tears, the endeavor's rendered meaningless -- but even in her current state, Pearl can't miss the twin rivers of red in their steady trickle down. She feels the savage heat spike up from the back of her skull once more, and her sobbing is silenced by a burst sheer panic. No no no no not again--

Her arms fly up to cover her face, body jerking into a tight, trembling ball. "Your neck," she howls, "cover your neck--"

Her one hand is already near the wound, but Garnet wastes no time bringing the other up, too, and clamping them both down as hard as she can. It really seems as though this woman doesn’t really want to eat her… Or at least this less horrific part of her doesn’t. What if this human-like side of her starts losing?

She looks down at herself to find that she’s not really covering up much, at least as far as vampire temptations may be concerned. The source of new blood is out of sight, but it’s already run down and ruined her shirt, and there are spots and smears elsewhere that must have come from their fight. She’s covered in it, or at least more covered in blood than she’s ever been in her life. The sight makes her feel incredibly ill, and if this woman starts going on a biting rampage again, she’s not certain she’ll have the strength to stop her a second time. Not if she’s lost as much as she thinks she might have.

“If I can find you animal blood, will that help you not try to kill me?” Garnet knows she doesn’t have many options there, but at the very least there’s a cat that hangs around her building she feels like she could likely catch. She likes the cat, but she likes being alive a hell of a lot more.

Edited 2015-07-25 16:52 (UTC)

The offer makes Pearl go quiet and still, the quaking in her shoulders easing at last. She doesn't dare to straighten out her body or try and look at the woman again, but she does give a quiet, raspy "yes, please", mumbled into the barricade of her crossed arms.

Garnet nearly says something more but decides against it, instead turning around and exiting the apartment again. She’s hoping the ridiculous hour will keep her from being spotted by anyone, because god knows what would happen if she tried to explain the situation. She can barely explain it to herself: what the hell is she doing, leaving her own home covered in blood, seeking out a stray cat as some sort of sacrifice to a vampire that just attacked her?

Keeping herself alive is the only rationalization she can manage at the moment, so it has to be enough. She looks around and thankfully sees no one, no lights on in any apartments but her own. She sneaks around the building, making her way to where she normally spots the stray. It takes a few minutes of searching and what probably sounds like insane coaxing on her part, but soon she spots a flash of eyes near the bushes.

The cat knows her, she’s left canned food for him a couple times, and it makes her gut wrench when he comes right up to her, interested in what she may have to offer and not at all aware of the fate she’s condemning him to. “I’m sorry,” she whispers as she grabs him, though she knows it’s meaningless.

She clutches him to her chest as she makes her way into her apartment, ignoring his angry struggling, heartbeat picking up again as she closes the door. She’s scared of what she’s about to do, of what she could be unleashing in giving this vampire a food source… But she can’t see that she has any other choice.

“I brought a cat,” she says, voice audibly cracking in a way she wishes it wouldn’t, hovering above the crumpled body on the floor. A cat is a small creature, and she really hopes this will be enough.

Pearl barely moves a muscle in the time the woman's gone. It occurs to her, dimly, that there's no real reason why she would go and search for animal blood for the monster that assailed her -- God knows when she'll return, and God knows what she'll bring with her, be it backup or weapons. Perhaps the safest thing for her to be getting up and escaping while she's able.

Yet the thought doesn't inspire enough fear in her to propel her limp, aching muscles.

Pearl is so, so tired. She can't go through another day of this. Being killed here and now might be the best thing that could happen -- to her, and to the rest of humanity. She's a parasite, a mistake, she should've died a month back lying on that road.

She's crying again, but her tears are quieter this time, slipping from her cheeks and splattering onto the floor.

Imagine her surprise when the woman really does return a few minutes later with a cat bundled in her arms.

Pearl shifts to look up at her, blinking the wetness from her eyelids. The cat has frizzled fur and no collar -- a stray, to be missed by no one -- and her stomach lurches with equal parts hunger and nausea. The cat meowls in distress at the sight of her, struggling to escape the woman's arms. As if it already knows.

Pearl would throw up, were there anything in her stomach. She can't, she can't, this isn't right, she's so hungry--

For a split-second her face contorts into that beastly visage again, but she forces it back with a labored groan. "C-can you," she croaks, stopping to swallow against the bile rising in her throat, "can you kill it?"