4. Loss

[hismasterpiece]

[Action -- After Nightfall on the 11th]

[A pale young woman wanders into the village, twisting her hair round her fingers compulsively. She's hungry.


She's STARVING.

A whimper escapes her lips as she collapses by the fountain, and she calls out weakly:]

Spikey? Love sundae? The jaws can't bite; the claws can't catch.

[/Action]


[Drusilla has returned from death. Her DP is that she has lost the ability to go gameface and, therefore, to feed on victims using her fangs.]

Comments

action; willow is sleeping so have my other (newer) loser

[zumo]

[Hijikata's first few hours in Luceti....well, they've been interesting, to say the least. At this point in the night, he's collected his sword, and his western battle uniform--the only things he's been able to find, so far--and is continuing his almost desperate patrol around the village.

He almost doesn't see Drusilla; she's on the other side of the fountain. Hearing a woman's keening catches his attention, though, and he slowly walks around it until he catches sight of her forlorn-looking form.]

Uh.... [Ugh he doesn't feel like talking to anyone right now, but.....she seems worse off than him.] Hey. You...you alright?

\0/

[hismasterpiece]

I am not alright. [She speaks faintly; it's difficult to put words together into sentences right now.] Need......need to drink.

other loser who also needs blood to live hey BLOOD BUDDIES

[zumo]

Drink? [He takes a step closer, cautious. Yeah..."dehydrated" might be a good word for how she looks. Protective instincts starting up in three...two...]

I've only just arrived, but...I'm sure there's somewhere nearby you can get a drink, you know. [The bar is like....right down that way, lady :| ]

XD

[hismasterpiece]

Come nearer... [She is almost begging.] Come nearer, pretty sir...show me.

[zumo]

[...Seriously, is she....she isn't about to die or something, right?

He slowly approaches before sitting near her on the fountain, and nods in the general direction of where he's just come from.]

It's over that way. Can...[Looking her up and down with concern again...] Can you walk?

[hismasterpiece]

I can. [She struggles to her feet.] I cannot frolic or play or bound or caper. But I can walk. [A few stumbling, tired steps toward Good Spirits prove this. She stops to turn back and look at him.] Weak, though. So weak, pretty sir.

[zumo]

...

What happened to you? [He stands and matches her steps towards the bar, keeping his eyes on her. Trying to gauge what's wrong.]

[hismasterpiece]

Death happened. My week is up, and no one is happy to see me.

[What's wrong is simply starvation. She might look too thin to his eyes -- too pale. Too weak.]

They've changed me.