"So you don't pass out again?" Pyotr smirks slightly. "I suppose I can't blame you for that, although I wouldn't have expected a member of the undead to be such a lightweight."

His first overtures accepted, he begins to grow bolder, his free hand rising to stroke Erik's face and gently feel out the contours of his teeth through the layers of muscle and skin. "What other limitations do you have? In the film, the vampire faded away in the morning sunlight -- clearly that stricture doesn't apply to you. If I throw a handful of rice or beans over my shoulder, will you be compelled to stop and count them?"