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Leo is not new to being a vampire of the Red Court. He's not a noble or anything, but he's been around for a very long time. He's reached the ripe old age of 600, outliving his noble father and the vast majority of his bloodthirsty sisters, almost entirely by being a filthy coward. He has no pretensions to the blood of milk-pale virgins; he's perfectly fine getting his dinner for the week under a bridge. He occasionally keeps slaves, but only rarely. Most of the time, he occupies himself with reading, and painting, and delicious, delicious blood. On occasion he indulges in a good alleyway lurking.
This is one of those occasions. Chicago's alleyways are not particularly well maintained, but they're better than the slums of Toledo in 1632. Leo likes them. They're meditative, and often contain convenient homeless populations.
"No, but I doubt I can walk up to someone and say 'hello, might I borrow a cup of your blood?' Seems a bit of an investment."
"You do have one existing human friend," says Milo, still hugging him.
Okay, that would be more crying. Leo's not sure he can control it anymore, so he pushes off Milo and hangs his head over the bare ground and just sobs.
"Um. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you..."
"I- fuck," Leo sobs, "I don't- you're, I'm f-, I'm, happy. I'm just. I can't- there's too much, too many feelings."
Milo keeps petting him. It seems the thing to do.
Leo appreciates petting, but continues sobbing.
Eventually he finds it within himself to say "Fuck souls. This is awful."
Should he halfheartedly apologize again? Milo decides to just pet Leo some more instead.
Eventually Leo makes an effort to wipe himself off. The effort is a miserable failure. He sighs and, forgetting his audience, reaches up and rips off his face.
Then it remembers that Milo is present, and looks mortified. "Oh, shit, sorry, I just- sorry, the- Jesus, okay. So... human form. It's an illusion made out of... stuff. There was no way I was going to get that clean, so... got rid of the stuff. I'll make it back again. Sorry. Fuck."
He hesitates. "Startled? Not, like- horrified? Repulsed, appalled..."
"Startled," Milo confirms. "Adjusting rapidly. Not at all horrified. My best friend is a cat, Leo, I am used to people who aren't human and don't look it. I just haven't previously known anyone who could casually tear their own face off. Does it hurt...?"
(Slowly, the edges of his face are creeping inward.)
"Like - cutting your hair, maybe," he suggests as a comparison. "By extension, does that mean it doesn't hurt if you injure your - outward-facing parts - in general? That must be nice..."
"Mm, it's... different when I'm doing it. Usually it still hurts, at least enough to tell me what I'm supposed to be reacting to. And if something hits hard enough to rip it off, that still hurts like hell. But usually it's dulled. Then again, I wouldn't feel that much pain if you hit me straight on either. We're durable, we vampires."
"I am the opposite of durable," says Milo. "Fairy curse. Fragile bones. But I also have a fairy blessing for perfect health, so I bounce back just fine. It's not the most convenient combination as far as pain, though."
"That sucks," Leo winces. "I mean, it's good you've got the recovery, but- ugh. I could half-turn you, if you like? Or just turn you, but that'd get rid of your soul, and you seem attached to that. Either way, you'd get a lot sturdier. And strong and fast and all. It's really nice."
"I am thoroughly attached to my soul and would not willingly part with it," Milo agrees. "'Half-turn'?"
"It's- I've never done it, but apparently if you start turning someone and they don't kill anybody drinking from them they can just stay that way forever. You'd only get a fraction of the power set, but that's still pretty good. Might be enough to make up for the unpleasant fairy curse."
"I think... not," says Milo. "Although I'll keep it in mind, and thank you for the offer. I'd be afraid the fairy curse would screw it up in some unforeseen horrible way, if nothing else. At least I'm used to my current set of fragilities."
Leo looks a bit unhappy at continued fragility, but doesn't press the point.
"So... tell me about this world, I guess," Milo says after a moment. "Humans don't have kingdoms? What do they have instead?"
"Countries. Occasionally the countries have kings, but the kings generally don't do all that much, because some bright spark realized that trusting a bloodline to consistently churn out good leaders doesn't actually work. For humans, at least."