2. LAMBING.

[hismasterpiece]

Tonight, just after sundown, there is a ruckus on one of the farms northeast of the village. When the bleating dies down, several dead lambs might be found in one of the enclosures. The ewes paw and nose at the bodies, dumb terror still fresh in their eyes.

Forest animals just have not been cutting it for Drusilla. But the vampire has been too wary to approach the village and feed there -- not without her Family, those who strengthen her. She stalks the journals during the day when she's not sleeping. Two slayers? A vampire hunter? All sorts of overpowered freaks and heroes and demons? She might be mad, but Dru is not stupid enough to attempt any kills in the village. Yet.

As she tears through the last lamb, the vampire laments to herself how much more fun this would be with Spike. And then she convinces herself in a long, drawn-out argument with a curiously red evening star -- which she quickly names Ethelind -- to spy on the sleeping village. Find out where the sweetest victims lay their heads. Her tattered white new-feather sundress, covered only by a black lace shawl, is stained red with lambs' blood. The dress of her porcelain doll, which she is carrying with her, is also stained. Perhaps she can stop at the shop for a new frock, and one for dolly, too.

When she glides through the village, Drusilla will dare to peek into some windows. She cannot enter any homes without an invitation.

[Dru will not be lingering around anyone she has identified as a threat. She is a powerful vampire but far more bold when working with lackeys or her "family" -- Angel, Spike, Darla. IF YOU WANT YOUR CHARACTER TO DIE OR BE INJURED AT THIS TIME JUST TELL ME IN A SUBJECT LINE, otherwise she won't be killing or hurting anyone in this post.]

Comments

[shadedsunlight]

It's closer to 10:30 PM when Ginia leaves Cloud Nine and begins her walk back to House 44 to change and begin patrolling. It was a slow, but good night, and she's in a good mood as she walks home, quietly humming to herself, enjoying the evening air. Caution is on her mind, it always is, but the last eight months have made her up soften up a little.

[bloodwaif]

Drusilla, too, is walking and humming. The tune is one children in London learn at a very young age and sing to each other whilst holding hands and dancing in circles.

What strikes the vampire as odd is how very much the woman she sees walking through town is sending her vibes of watcher. And not just ANY watcher -- the most troublesome Sunnydale one. Dru swings into step about ten yards behind the other woman and starts to sing quietly:

"Ring around the rosy...pocket full of posies..."

injury is fine, if it comes down to it <3

[honestapples]

All that ruckus out by the sheep pens has alerted the farm's caretaker, even though she's very nearly on the opposite side of the farm when the bleating screams ring out. Applejack takes off at a gallop towards the noise, her trusty dog Winona right alongside her, barking wildly. It may be too late for them to save anything, but neither one will do anything less than their best to defend the farm.

HOOOOKAY POOR PONY

[bloodwaif]

Dogs? Dru hates the beasts so much. There had been dogs in Romania. There had been dogs in the darkest alleys of London, almost as wild as she was. The vampire wipes blood from her chin and slides behind a tree, peering out to see who is riding toward her at such a pace.

Imagine her surprise when this creature has no rider...

[mountain_sage]

[Saleh's gone home for the night, but he's not quite ready to turn in yet. He's still a bit excited about seeing his home again. Instead of laying his head, he's sitting cross-legged on his bed in meditation, to calm himself for the good night's sleep. However, his eyes wander, and he spots the woman peeking through the window. Peeking through his window this late? Saleh can't help but find that suspicious. He gets up and approaches the window, but hesitates to open it. What will she do?]

[bloodwaif]

[Dru draws back when she notices the man noticing her, but she doesn't run away. He looks familiar; she thinks she's spoken to him before.

Instead, she drums her fingertips on the windowpane, tapping out an odd little rhythm. She smiles at him.]

injuring is fine with me SUP DRU

[fuckthemission]

[Doyle's plans consisted of having one or two drinks at the bar and heading home to pass out; he'd been scaling the forest looking for good points to watch out over sections of land, in case worst-case scenario happened and he needed a place like that, which had dulled out any desire to stay up late. He's passing the figure with his hands pressed into his jacket pockets—

He squints. Something about her seemed off, but perhaps it's the fact that she's snooping around, looking like she's investigating the houses; a New Feather? It'd make sense if she were confused. He knows the feeling.

So he clears his throat, standing from a small distance.]

Those are probably occupied, if you're looking for a place to stay. The apartments have a lot of open rooms, though.

EEEE

[bloodwaif]

The apartments have open rooms? [She repeats this and smiles at this newcomer. He looks like the solid, military type. He looks like the sort that Spike wouldn't like at all.]

Even for a lost lamb like myself?

[Maybe in the darkness he cannot see the blood. It makes a pretty pattern on the white cotton, she decides. She will keep this dress.]

[Action/I HAD TO]

[quicktoanger]

It was long, slow going, but I was making better time than I had thought with my project. I had samples from most of the buildings, and I had already gotten the five primary anchor symbols and a few of the perimeters marked and activated.

My problem was, Rogue had made me self-conscious. I needed to figure out how to go about marking the secondary anchors without, y'know. Vandalizing.
I could add my own anchors, but they'd be obtrusive. I could bury them, but that might interfere with the movement of the energy, and I was already having enough trouble figuring out what to do about the damn rivers grounding out the entire piece.

And also, somebody was actually lurking near the anchor point I was heading toward. And I did not want to be the creepy guy lurking around doing weird things to people's houses in the middle of the night.

Well, damn. Alright then. Casual stride, relaxed stance. Just out for a stroll.

"Evening, ma'am."

XD

[bloodwaif]

"Good evening, handsome sir," the vampire purred back at him. "Have you come from the theater? Did Ophelia survive?"

Dru roots for her every time.

[relictusdeus]

[With its two sets of eyes, a winged devil glares scowlingly upon the village from a rooftop, clawed hands trembling restlessly at its sides. A creature of war and chaos, every fibre of its being is starved for the carnage and bloodshed it has enjoyed for years; but it possesses neither the will nor the power to disobey the creature whom has both spawned and tamed him.

And so it watches and it waits for a single command, for the slightest hint of murderous intent that will propel it through the darkness, snarling and ripping and tearing.

By its side, a second devil sits at ease on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling lazily, the other drawn to his chest. Something piques his attention and he turns his head, alert and aware. A wicked being this way comes. A creature of the night. He can feel it; and when Drusilla appears, drifting through the village, he wonders if this is the owner of the voice that had tried to tempt him with power. For all he knows, there could be more than one female vampire prowling Luceti.]

…Have you come looking for a warm glass of milk before bed?

[He asks, lowly.]

[bloodwaif]

[Dru looks up immediately with a little sound in the back of her throat. Him. She can tell it is him right away, the one she'd thought to turn.]

It was warm, and I've drunk it all. My belly's full now, favored of Dracula.

[herd_effect]

[It's dark out by the time Willock starts making his way back from the library, a thick textbook under his arm, overcoat and fedora on against the cold. He spots the woman peeking into windows as he heads towards CH #7--is that a New Feather? Concerned and wanting to offer help, he approaches her.]

Miss?

[hismasterpiece]

Sir? [She twirls gracefully to face the sound of that voice, not at all ashamed that she'd just been peering in at someone else's window. Dru cannot be shamed; not anymore.]

I've lost it. It's ever so lost.

[action] Injury is cool with me if applicable

[folklorist]

[ It's later in the evening when Helios makes his way out of the library. Unassuming and unawares of the happenings on the farm this very night. Helios will be on his way home. He'll also have with him so food in a bag for dinner to cook tonight. Nothing out of the ordinary, not at all. Until he spots Drusilla looking as if she's lost. Hum. A new feather then? ]

Ah. Miss? Are you alright?

07

[hismasterpiece]

[She turns to face him and begins drifting toward this man. He has an odd, aura. Magic. Very strong magic. It attracts her more than anything.]

Good evening, my lord. Do I not look alright?

[....She IS covered in blood, but the darkness might obscure it.]

[thebellthatbinds]

[It's a rather quiet night and Sabriel had decided to stay inside and make a simple dinner of soup and some crusty bread instead of heading out to the restaurant in town. Still finding bits of sugar from the 'pop rocks' incident she's cleaning up her dishes when she first feels that cold, familiar sensation pool in the pit of her stomach, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

The Dead.

Something Dead was lurking nearby...not only that but there was power there too. Eyes wide as she looks around to try and pinpoint the source of the sensation, she can't help but shudder at the defenselessness of her situation; no spelled sword to defend herself with, just whistles and songs and even those were less than adequate to hold off a stronger member of the Lesser Dead. With a soft curse she settles for grabbing a fair sized knife from the kitchen before making her way to the window to peek out at whatever was haunting the grounds of the village.]

[hismasterpiece]

[That thing might be haunting the lawn just outside the window. Drusilla crouches just beneath it, peering up through the panes. When she sees someone looking out, she smiles and waves.]

chronologically last?

[herotypical]

Patrols had been doubled. A necessary decision -- if Drusilla truly was in the village, then Buffy needed to be out there for as many sunless hours as possible. It was odd what living here would do to her standards -- suddenly, success meant no bodies at all despite the impermanence of death. Back home, she had often not even managed to catch a baddie's scent before at least a few corpses had piled up.

So she had been outside for a while, tonight. Scythe in hand and her serious-boots on her feet. Buffy had left her journal at home. No distractions. Even as one hour stretched into another empty, vampless hour, she struggled against the desire to pack it up and head home. Or, even better? To head to Cullen House.

Luceti had spoiled her. She hated every moment that made her realize this. It used to be that she could patrol all night, grab a bare hour of sleep, and then face a day of school or work or research. Not so, anymore.

Maybe Angel had been right. Maybe she was getting too old for this.

07

[hismasterpiece]

Around the barracks, if she reaches that building, Buffy might see a lithe woman in white approaching the door. Drusilla does not notice the slayer right away; she is too preoccupied with trying not to be seen, as though she has other pursuers this evening.

[most_unwanted]

[Of course Mulder would be up at this odd hour, going through his files, trying to piece together answers and figure out what could be in store for them in the near future. He tosses another sunflower seed shell on the pile growing on his table, then happens to look up...]

[HOLY SHIT THERE'S A WOMAN STANDING THERE.]

Can I help you?

[bloodwaif]

[HAI MULDER. Drusilla taps her nails against the window and grins at him.] Have you the time, my good gentleman? Have you the time to give a lady?

even more laster than Buffy??? you can tag this later when you're ready

[iratus]

Drusilla was not easy to read, even with her telepathic powers. He did not pry. In truth, with a mind as fractured as hers, he did not wish to. Yet they had been sharing the house by the lake for some time now and he had begun to get a grasp on her habits, erratic as they often seemed. But tonight she seemed to be missing for longer than usual. It would not be correct to say he worried for her, but there was a level of concern. She was, after all, useful to him.

A night like this, she would be getting herself into trouble. He set aside the book he was studying and rose to his feet. Time to see what his lady had got herself into. So he set himself towards the village, his stun weapon in hand and ready to be used on a moment's notice. He reached out with his mind, searching for that familiar imprint that she left on the world. While he was willing to go to some extent to assist her if necessary, but he was not yet willing to openly be seen as her ally.

I'm ready. : |

[hismasterpiece]

Eventually -- just before dawn -- the vampire dragged back toward the lake house. Her battle wounds were not grave: the slice across her middle was bloody, but healing. That across her cheek and jaw was in a slightly better state.

Perhaps they will meet halfway. One thing is for certain: Dru is in a pouty, needy mood. Have fun with that, Iratus.

/late

[simplestgift]

Archie's walks in the woods are usually during the day, but on some nights, he finds walls too pressing. It's a nice night out, anyway, and while he doesn't venture far from the village, he makes sure it's far enough to get a view of the stars without light pollution.

[hismasterpiece]

"Sweet Ethelinde, sweet Ethelinde, have you heard her singing by the river? Have you seen her, wet to the kneeeees with dew? Seen her stomp her pretty toes over the graaaaves?"

Dru doesn't notice the sailor yet; she is too busy dancing in the clearing, singing in a high girlish voice a song of utter nonsense.


Or IS it?