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

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.

Yeah, she would.

[quicktoanger]

Well. That was a bit odd. I smiled, trying hard not to look too terribly weirded out.

Did we even have a theater?

"... I think the only Hamlet adaptation where Ophelia survives is the Lion King."

I guess you could program a play into the battledome if you weren't hopeless with technology.

I'll never know. I'm hopeless with technology.

there's always hope until Act IV

[bloodwaif]

Drusilla was not really that good with late-20th-century Disney pop culture. At all.

"Don't like lions; the lion at the zoo is frightening. Clicks his teeth at you, click click!"

She snapped her own white, perfectly human-looking teeth together with two sharp clicks.

Sure, and maybe Juliet will wake up in time, too.

[quicktoanger]

... And another point on the weird-o-meter for that one. Was she making biting noises at me?

"Well, yeah, they were a bit more cuddly in the movies than they are in real life..."

... was that a doll?

[hismasterpiece]

"I like the movies! Spike brought me to a movie, once. We sat in the back row, all the way in the back! It smelt like melting butter and urges." Yes, indeed, she had made biting noises. But now Dru subsides into the most demure waif-like woman she can manage, tucking her doll close to her side.

The doll's lips are stained red, too -- though it might just look like a smudge of dirt in the darkness.

[quicktoanger]

Man, the doll was messy. And so was her dress, actually.

... Okay, yeah. I was beginning to think something was amiss here.

"... Are you alright, miss?"

[hismasterpiece]

"Lonely. I've been ever-so-lonely here, sir, without my family. I need a new family I think; the right sorts of playmates." She sighed and smoothed out the front of her dress. "And no chaperone, no chaperone at all."

[quicktoanger]

... Lonely. I could see how a place like this could do that.

"... Name's Dresden. Harry Dresden. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

I offered her a handshake with the name, but something about all of this was giving me the wiggins. Maybe we weren't alone out here?

[hismasterpiece]

She took his hand, demure as ever -- cold as a glacier creeping over a LANDSCAPE OF BLOOD.




LIKE A BLOODSLUSHIE.



"Chaperone me?" she asked.

[quicktoanger]

Escort the lady to her destination? A little old fashioned, but I could manage.

Oh, man, her hand was freezing. Something in the back of my head was nagging, but I bit it back and shrugged off the duster to offer it to her.

"Where did you need to go?"

... Wait a minute.

Her hand was freezing.

Pale. Out at night. Freezing cold. She wasn't...

...Nah. Not here. I'd left that all behind me, clearly.

[bloodwaif]

Dru wasn't letting go of that hand. In fact, once the duster was settled around her shoulders she was weaving closer to Harry, snakelike. With so little light, it might be more difficult to hypnotize him. She was still going to try. She loved it when victims tried to help her.

She leaned in and sniffed. Somewhere beneath his warm skin a red river was rushing in an intoxicating rhythm.

"Home. Bring me home."

[quicktoanger]

Wow. This lady was a few cookies short of a holiday platter, clearly. Acted like a little kid, almost.

Patient, Harry. She's probably trying her best.

"Where is your home?"

[bloodwaif]

Instead of answering, she turned her face and buried her nose and mouth against the collar of his jacket. The scent was divine, and she suddenly cared very little about keeping her game face in check. It threatened to drive her out of her cautious approach and into a veritable feeding frenzy.

With a shudder, she clung to human form. A soft sigh was the only answer to his question.

Oh. Ohohohoho. This just got even worse.

[quicktoanger]

... Okay, forget it. If she couldn't tell me where her place was, I'd just let her crash at mine.

...Oh, don't give me that look. I'd sleep on the sofa. Obviously.

"Right. Plan B it is, then."

I began walking toward my house, gently leading her with the hand still holding hers.

This girl needed serious help. Did we even have any therapists in Luceti?

XD

[bloodwaif]

"Plan B." Her voice was like a rich rip through silk fabric. Hoarse, nearly, from the effort not to leap on him then and there. She could feel her fangs straining to make an appearance.

"I like this plan already, duckie!"

[quicktoanger]

What? But she didn't even-

Don't say anything, Harry. She's clearly nuts, but she's pretty harmless, right?

But this just kept getting creepier. I finally said something just to make the whole thing less...

... creepy. Hell's bells, there was no other word for it.

"Kinda tall for a duck. More of a goose, I think."

[hismasterpiece]

"A beautiful goose," she returned fondly. "I could stuff a pillow with you. I could stuff an entire -- "

A looooooooooooooong sniff at the collar of that duster.


" -- duvet."

Never has the word duvet reeked of pure sensuality as it is reeking right now.

Oh, Harry. Don't say that. You know better than to say that.

[quicktoanger]

... The crazy chick was hitting on me. This night could not possibly get weirder.

"Uh..."

Shit. How to defuse, how to-

"For now let's just stick to making sure you have some place to stay tonight, yeah?"

Avoidance. Good. Well done, Harry.

XD

[bloodwaif]

"With you." A knowing smile. Sometimes she does like to mate before she kills.

Like that spider, or other mating-then-killing things that crop up in dark corners or behind the woodshed.

"A warm place."

[quicktoanger]

"I was thinking you could borrow my bed and I'd take the couch. Tomorrow maybe we can find you some place a little more permanent?"

And a licensed medical professional?

[hismasterpiece]

"Take me to your bed then; I can't very well resist that, now can I?" She folds her arms inside the coat with a knowing smile.

[quicktoanger]

Oh, for Christ's sake.

"Right... Uh..."

A turn in the road, before we headed... I think it was south. The map said south, but who the hell knew?

"... Anyway, you never did tell me your name."

Please reply in a vaguely sane manner. Please. Please?

[hismasterpiece]

"Drusilla. You may call me Dru if you like. Or...Night Queen."

She followed, not knowing or caring where they were going. All Dru knew was that an invitation was forthcoming and she did so love to be invited in.

[quicktoanger]

Drusilla. Night Queen.

Well, she was dressed kinda "emo", might as well have a name to match, huh? The house was nearly in sight, and-

Wait. No. Cold hands, pale skin, acting crazy, Anne Rice nickname? That was way too much coincidence to go on.

Well. She hadn't tried to feed on me yet, or even just to kill or capture me as most Reds would do on sight. She was too lifelike for a Black Court vamp, despite the cold hands, and on of the White Court would have tried some sort of emotional whammy on me, which I think I would have noticed.

Also, most Whites tended to frown on such melodramatic nicknames.

Still, I figured it was better safe than sorry. I pulled my mother's silver pentagram to hang outside of my shirt. somehow I doubted I'd run into Richard, so the odds of an uncomfortable explanation being required were pretty slim.

[bloodwaif]

"Oh! What is this pretty toy of yours? Are you going to create magic?" Dru seems interested and not in the slightest bit alarmed by the pentagram's appearance.