hismasterpiece | 2. LAMBING.

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.]

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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.

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.

He was half way into his trip when he saw the girl coming his way, moving slower than her usual graceful stride. It would seem she needed no saving, but perhaps a little direction towards somewhere less dangerous.

"Trouble, Drusilla?"

"Oh, wrinkly daddy." She was in tears. "Oh, that horrid slayer! This horrid Luceti! It gives me a pain in my middle."

Or maybe it was the scythe that did that.

He wrinkled his nose at 'wrinkly daddy' and the fact she seemed to be hoping for some sort of comfort from him. She would be hard pressed to find it.

"Proved difficult to fight, did she? You should stick with less difficult prety, Drusilla. I doubt you heal as quickly as I do."

She rarely gets comfort from any of her cohort, save for Spike.

"We heal," she snapped. Then her voice went back to its high-pitched whining moan. "But she cut me like a jelly roll. Right in the jelly, dear daddy."

"How unfortunate for your jelly, then. You'll be needing bandages, then."

He remained wary, though. Watching he darkness to see if that slayer would be pursuing her.

A whimper. Dru was a powerful vampire, but she could certainly be hurt. Burned. Beaten. Tortured. There was still pain, even for the undead.

"Something to keep the gravy and stuffing inside, yes!"

He wondered if perhaps this was a waste of time. If she was to pursue this, soon he would be suspected too. Especially since the girl he fed from returned to life. Troublesome. All of it.

"Very well. Off we go, then. I shall play your doctor this time. If you continue to act this foolishly, I will not be there to help you lick your wounds."

"The licking rarely helps, I find." But, obediently, she went with him. Drusilla was smart enough to know when to rely on another. And she liked it. She liked the care. She liked the sense of family, even if now the word had become so blackened and skewed that it held little of the traditional meaning for her.

It was enough for him that she followed. So he continue on, moving slowly so as not to lose her. He did not expect a wounded girl to move very fast, dead or not. He still remained wary that they may be followed.

"Now tell me, what did you do to bring out this slayer?"

"I was just having a bit of sport, wrinkly daddy. Just some sport with the locals. I've eaten no one." She punctuates that last word with an additional whine. All of the battling has served to make her more hungry.

"The lambsblood doesn't keep me the same as the blood of a human child."

2. LAMBING.

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

I'm ready. : |

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