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

[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.

[quicktoanger]

Magic? Why did she know I could do magic?

... Wait. Relax, Dresden. Crazy woman.

I considered it, as I brought my heart rate under control and tried to ignore the sudden adrenaline rush. She's just a crazy woman, in all odds.

Crazy people sometimes see things. Hmm. Well, best not to say anything.

"Magic? Why would you think I can do magic? S'just a necklace. My mother's."

I held it up and put it out between us, focusing on the silvery shape as I did. On my faith in it.

I'd never been able to work faith tricks with religious symbols- I jut wasn't a spiritual enough guy. I had no true faith in God, or Yahweh, or Allah, or Buddha, or any of them.

What I did have faith in, what I'd always had faith in, was magic. My magic. And the power it had to protect me, to keep me safe. To answer me at need.

That faith served just as well for repelling vampires, demons, and beasties that bumped in the night, and it was that faith that I channeled through the pentacle.

It was the perfect test. A vampire would be repelled, a normal human would just think I was holding up a necklace for her to look at.

[bloodwaif]

"Was she a witch? That's the pretty star the witches draw when they recite their incantations." She, too, was staring at the shape of the metal ornament. Curious. Interested. And...somehow...she felt no desire to go nearer to it. It wasn't repelling her, exactly, but it was deadening that desire to kill.

[quicktoanger]

Witch. That might not be a bad word for her. A rogue Wizard who'd defied the White Council so many times, it was a wonder she'd never found herself on the wrong end of a Warden's sword. She'd spent more time among the Fae and the creatures of the underworld than with her fellow wizards, though from what I understood, her motivations tended to be altruistic.

"Nah, I guess she just had a new-age thing going on."

Well. Not a vampire. There's a relief. I let the pentagram fall outside of my shirt and continued walking.

[hismasterpiece]

Such a vampire, Dresden. Such a vampire.

"I've heard of this 'new-age.' They worship the earth mother. They employ crystals. They embrace the Tarot deck."

Sure you will, Harry. Sure you will.

[quicktoanger]

And most of them had no idea what they were doing, but that was a rant for another time.

"Yeah, that sounds like her."

When we arrived at the community building, I held the door for her. Old habits and all, though it occurred to me that I was inadvertently encouraging her slightly uncomfortable fixation.

I didn't think I was likely to get much sleep tonight, tired as I was. I was probably just going to be up all night looking through the journal to see if there were any mental health professionals in the village.

[hismasterpiece]

There was no barrier at the entrance to the Community Building, and Dru gracefully swanned her way inside. She had never been inside one of these large apartment buildings before, having been too afraid of being staked or caught out in the sunlight in the past. But this time, so close to having a meal or possibly two, she was taking the risk.

"Ooooh, so bright in here! It reminds me of the candy shop in Paris."

All those little children, ripe for the taking.

"Rows and rows of bottles. Bright little cherries and sugar pops!"

[quicktoanger]

Candy shop. Sparsely decorated hallway in an apartment building.

Okay then.

I walked her to my door, held it open. "Here we are. Not much, but it's just for one night, I assume, so."

I gestured her inside.

[hismasterpiece]

"One night is all I need, duckie." She patted him on the cheek as she paused at the door. "You truly want me to stay with you?" she asked, turning large, appealing eyes on him.

[quicktoanger]

"Hey, as long as you're not expecting a palace or anything, me casa es su casa. Sorry if it's kind of sparse."

Note to self: Invest in a padded room.

[hismasterpiece]

The Spanish was enough for an invitation. Dru swanned into the place, looking about with a rather detached air. She was curious, though. It was rare for her to be invited into a human's home. She did most of her hunting on the streets or in other dark, out-of-the-way places.

"It needs more panache. Makes me feel as though I'm standing in a tin of plain, white biscuits."

[quicktoanger]

I resisted the impulse to bristle, for a number of reasons. First of all, crazy lady. Can't expect tact from a crazy lady. Second of all, it was sparse. I had done nothing with it, except the locked center bedroom which I'd put my lab equipment into.

"Guess I'm just a plain white biscuit sort of guy." I waved off to the room I had sort-of claimed.

"Bed's there, if you want to get some sleep. Think I'll do the same, actually."

The sofa was inoffensive and sparse, like the rest of the unit. I really missed my own hideously ugly and ridiculously comfortable sofa back home. I reached beneath the frame, found a spare blanket I'd grabbed just in case, and tossed it onto the seat, kicking off my shoes and sitting down.

"Night."