Metal groaned as her fingers pressed against the railing behind her. Apparently even being dead didn't exempt Amelia from stress. She'd fed recently, but that hadn't done much. Neither had a fight. Getting laid might help, but how do you explain tearing into your partner's neck when you get a little too excited? No, tearing into a guard-rail on a bridge had to do.
@_superstar_: "Later." She mumbled. As soon as he was gone, she breathed out a sigh of relief. It'd been a stroke of luck that he'd stayed out of the alley earlier. She'd dodged a bullet when he decided not to press her. The last thing she needed was a fight with a hero.
@_superstar_: "I'm a workaholic, sue me." She shrugged, sipping at her water. "And evil never takes a sick day and all that crap." Amelia's disinterested tone of voice was accompanied with a hand wave.
@_superstar_: When she came back, Amelia was walking straight. "Not really the drinking type, but whatever. I've got time to kill." There was no way the arm thing was happening. "You probably know the bars better so lead the way."
@_superstar_: "Mel. Not my full name, but it'll do." The cab pulled up to an alleyway and she practically bolted out, yelling for him to wait out of sight. Grabbing something from a trash can, she ducked around a corner. The something in question had been a blood bag, and she tore it open just in time to sate her hunger. After a solid minute of gulping it down, she wiped her mouth off and tossed the bag away. Crisis averted.