5800/Late-Night Snacking

Late-Night Snacking
Date of Scene:	30 March 2021
Location:	Astoria Park
Synopsis:	Taste tests, personal chats, and the nature of weirdness in the wake of Spidey's recent events as he spends some quiet time with Blake Riviere.
Cast of Characters:	Peter Parker, Blake Riviere

---

Peter Parker has posed:
It's been a long night. Three hours of surveillance to find out Silvermane likes his food from Uncle Sal's. No other business was discussed.

After THAT fiasco, he decided to head back to Queens, but slowed down near Astoria. A lot of things to do in this park. He had even come here once. Trying to get some exercise at the age of 14. It...hadn't gone well.

He rested on the top platform of the diving pool, and looked down. Forty feet below, the water beckoned.
He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been afraid of heights.
He checked his phone and was a little surprised to see a proximity ping from the most fashionable vampiress he knew. He shrugged, then sent a text.

<Hello, Miss Riviere. Whatcha up to?>

Blake Riviere has posed:
That little ping was a faint interuption, a little shift of her attention having brought her gaze down to the device.

A little soft 'huh' from the woman, delicate fingers tap out her responce.

<Enjoying the nightlife. And you?>

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey snerks. "Of course."

<Wasted three hours listening to a gangster rave about an Italian restaurant.> A pause, then, <...Are you busy?>

Blake Riviere has posed:
A few moment's pause, the message comes back, short and simple.

<Nothing too busy. I am in no rush,> Blake muses via text. <What is it you had in mind?>

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey stopped. What WAS he thinking about?

<Promise you won't laugh? Okay, promise you won't laugh too LOUDLY?>

Blake Riviere has posed:
Blake Riviere raises an eyebrow where she muses over her phone, the woman dressed in a simple black pair of jeans and a slim leather jacket over a deliberately deep red low-cut top in place of her usual gothic fare as she walks. The hair ribbons though, they remained.

<"Go on then...">

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey takes a deep breath, even though he's just texting. Because, as the waiter from Milliways showed, sometimes you just have to take a deep breath.

<...I was wondering if you might be feeling lonely and want some company.>
He pressed the SEND button quickly. There, he said it, no way to call it back.

Blake Riviere has posed:
A quirk of her lips, Blake shrugs her shoulders after a moment of contemplation. Why not? A little shift of her form and the vampiress messages back.

<I suppose I am well fed enough you do not need to witness me convincing a donor for the evening, and I won't refuse company.>

Peter Parker has posed:
A few minutes pause. <Yeeaahhh, okay. I was thinking about that, actually. I'm over at Astoria Park, at the Olympic pool. Top platform. Breeze is nice, if a mite cool. I'm there now.>

Another pause. <Would it be weird if I said I had a blood 'sampler?'>

Blake Riviere has posed:
No answer, no message back, decidely creepy. Perhaps there had been some offense. A few tense moments pass...then there's a sudden flutter of wings, a swarm of black silhouette shapes with glowing red eyes the coallese into the form of Blake lazily lounging on the edge of the platform.

"A blood sampler?" she speaks lightly, "Have you been raiding a transfusion center?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Okay. It hasn't gotten TOO weird yet. But then again, after Blackstone's Moving Brownstone and dealing with murderous Russian mermaids, maybe he needs to recalibrate that meter.

He takes out a small vial from his backpack. It's still actually warm, freshly drawn.
"I take blood samples from various things I run into. I could tell you stories...anyway, while I was listening to Silvermane go on about gnocchi, I wondered if you might feel any ill effects from drinking *my* blood. I've got a fair amount of spider DNA mixed up in there, as well as some ambient radioactivity. I don't know if it would affect you, or if it would be poisonous, or just puke-inducing."
A bit of silence. "But I believe you when you say you aren't the stereotypical type of love-them-lance-them-and-leave-them-for-the-coroner vampire. And...well, if there was ever a situation that you might find yourself short, and need something to keep worse things from happening...then it might be good to know if I was a solution, or a worse problem."

Blake Riviere has posed:
A raise of her eyebrow, Blake shifts a little where she sits, pulling her knees up to her chest as she sits for a moment before lazily dropping back to lay back on the platform looking skywards. "Interesting," she muses, giving a little laugh. "Most poisons don't effect me, radiation has not harmed me for any lasting effect. But I have usually survive well enough." She does chuckle at his comment about 'Loving and lancing, a shrug of her shoulders. "I appreciate the offer...though I admit you do smell...different to me even from here. The changes in you are like noticing the scent of an extra spice added to a meal....you learn to notice these things over a century or two."

Peter Parker has posed:
Okay, no lines crossed. Hopefully.
"I'll take your word on that...but it's the scientist in me, that I would like to make sure." He hands Blake the stoppered vial. "If you like it, let me know. If it doesn't agree with you, let me know. If it REALLY doesn't agree with you..."

Spider-Man hands Blake an airplane barf bag. "I would rather not get vamp puke in the pool, even if by accident."

Blake Riviere has posed:
A shrug, a shift, a little flick of the stopper. Fortune favors the daring, although the memory of spending an entire day with green skin after one particular feeding crosses her mind. Hopefully she wasn't about to sprout a bunch of extra arms; she likes this shirt!

A light sniff, a light sip from the vial and the woman rolls it over her tongue for a few moments before giving a soft little chuckle.

"Well...I seem not be harmed by it....and while it is different, it is not unpleasent."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man looks more than a little relieved. Although she can't see his face, his body language and the relief in his voice more than makes up for it.
"Oh, thank God..." he breathes. "All right. But you will text me if anything happens, right?"
He puts the barf bag away. He keeps it for any unexpected passengers. Getting bazooka-barfed on was only funny the first time - by the 15th, it was not even remotely funny.

"Well, that's one thing taken care of..." Spider-Man says, then glances at Blake. "Do you...get to talk to people a lot? Like having good friends? Or does this life...inhibit that in any way?"

Blake Riviere has posed:
A blink, that question seems to catch Blake off-guard, leaving her to sit up and lazily place the empty vial aside. A top-up, but she hadn't been starving either. "Do I get to talk to people?" she repeats, giving a little chuckle. "Certainly. I am social, by both desire and necessity. My meals are willing, many of them similarly encountered to how most humans would 'pick up'. Most of them do not remember, likely thinking it some pleasent romantic encounter."

Friends? She nods, a little fond smile on her lips. "I have a...daughter of sorts. The only other vampire I ever created. She has been a friend and companion for a long time. My life is not so restricted now."

A pause, she looked back at Spider-man with a slight frown. "But it was not always such. I was...once very different when I was changed."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man nodded. "I had a life-change, too. Mine was different, of course, but I understand that such a thing tends to shake you up. Yours was more complete than mine, so I'm not going to try comparing my situation with yours. But...I'm not COMPLETELY ignorant, either."

He felt a little self-conscious of this, but it had been preying on his mind for some time, along with all the OTHER things. "I'm...messing this up badly, maybe. Okay. Miss Riviere...I'd like you to call on me if you need something. If you want to talk, or hang out together sometime, or just...help with something in particular. I don't want to intrude on your life...but I don't want you to feel like I'm unwilling to connect with you on some level."

Blake Riviere has posed:
"Messed up?" Blake muses aloud, a tilt of her head offered. "You have not offended," she adds, although she doesn't use his name, if only for the clunkiness of it in natural conversations of relaxed tone. "Truthfully, it is not something I talk about often. I am old, at least compared to most humans. If I were to compare it to say, that book? I was made a 'bride', a thrall to another vampire. Little more than a slave for a very long time."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey winces slightly. "Jeez...I read Bram Stoker's DRACULA when I was a kid. Those brides seemed spooky to me. But I never thought of them as enslaved. But it makes sense. They used to be people before they were vampires. What changes turn them from what they were to what they are?" He sighs. "That's...a pretty cruddy thing to do. Of course, me being the Master of Understatement there..."

Blake Riviere has posed:
"Cruddy..." she muses at the word from there, shaking her head lightly before lazily reaching a hand up to smooth an errant bang from her face. "That is one word for it. To enslave someone's mind is not a given effect of creating a vampire, it is a choice. Creating another gives one power over them, but to use that to control their mind..." she trails off once more, turning her gaze down to the pool below. "I did not forget what it was like being a Bride, or what I did in that time. But eventually my mind was my own again. And now the one who made me is gone."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey exhales. "Pardon my opinion, but good riddance to bad rubbish. I've run into too many two-legged predators who liked to brainwash others, and it usually was because they couldn't relate to them any other way than making it impossible to say no."
Spider-Man looks to her. "I don't know if I should wish I can relate...or be glad that I CAN'T..."

Blake Riviere has posed:
A soft chuckle, the woman waves a hand dismissively, bracing herself against the platform. "Do not worry about it." Time for a topic switch, Blake makes to stand and lazily stretches her arms over her head. "Perhaps next time, a coffee or a more traditional meal in a more pleasent discussion." A little wink, the vampiress lazily reaches into her pocket, intent on replacing the gloss on her lips. "But I thank you for the 'sample'."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man smiles under the mask. "Better to know and never have to use the information...than NOT know and have to take the chance at the worst possible time." He looks around. "Well, I figured with the stuff I had in mind, a relative amount of privacy would be best." He looks back to Blake, then took another deep breath. "Do you...date? Have any kind of long-term relationships? I know 'long' has a different meaning for you than it does for me, but...I'm curious."

Blake Riviere has posed:
Yet another unexpected comment, although his mention of privacy earns a little laugh. "I am not the one wearing a mask. Although," a light turn her head and Blake's form ripples, her hair shifts to a bright blonde and her features change for a moment until instead of the pale vampiress Peter was looking at what appeared to be a certain famous female Kryptonian...then it changed back and the vampiress was herself again. "I'm not without a little obfuscation of my own."

Did she 'date'? Blake offers a little smirk, one hand coming up to rest on her cheek. "How forward of you!" she teases lightly. "But yes, I 'date', and have long-term relationships. I am 'Polyamorus'."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man nods, getting to his feet. "Well, then Polly is a very lucky lady. You're smart, skilled, and principled. You're also a 9/10 in the looks department. Probably don't need any special powers to influence others."
He looks around. "Are you able to digest food normally, or is the Liquid Diet something of a mandatory thing?"

Blake Riviere has posed:
There's an actual moment of a blink, a little confusion as if to wonder if he didn't understand what the term meant, but she'll wave it off rather than embarass the poor Spider. After all, it could have been a joke! As for digestion? She nods again, a soft giggle from her lips. "I can, yes. I even enjoy food. Taste, sensation, all of it. But...it does not sustain me. It's merely something done for the pleasure of it, where as blood is what continues my existance."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man nods. "Maybe I might have something for you sometime. I hope you would be interested in the best apple pie in New York." He looks around. "Next time, though. I am curious about the whole blood thing. I know there are various preservatives in bagged units of blood. Do those disagree with you?"

Blake Riviere has posed:
A nod, the vampiress gives a little shrug of her shoulders. "No more than someone having a few contaminants in their bloodstream. Polution, chemicals, drinkers and smokers..." she trails off before lazily resting her hands in her pockets. "I prefer the idea of pie."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man points both finger-guns at Blake. "You got it." He had other thoughts, but it was getting a mite late.
"Listen, Miss...uhm. BLAKE. Force of habit. If I need some help being a vigilante...is it okay if I call you for help? If you're doing stuff, I'm cool with that. But if you aren't doing anything and can help..."

Blake Riviere has posed:
A lazy little nod, the vampiress offers a smile. "Certainly," her form starts to waver, drifting to a silhouette in growing fog with faintly glowing eyes. "I will be around. Have yourself a good evening Spider-Man."

With that, the figure begins to fade into the night air.

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man watches her leave, then exhales.
Maybe he'll tell her about the Blackstone thing later...right after he recalibrates his Weirdness Meter.