5. FEAST

[hismasterpiece]

[Voice]

Hallo, pretty New Feathers! I am hosting a feast. A feast by the lake to the West.

[Not the southern lake -- she needs to keep certain peoples' attention away from the lonely house she inhabits there.]

You are all invited! I have prepared something for you. It tastes of mint and chicory and iron! Yarrow and tansy! It will make you stronger.


Come.

[/Voice]

[Action]

Drusilla will be stalking about the woods as usual, eager to assist anyone who HASN'T heeded her invitation.

There is a cage waiting there, hidden under the trees. It is large enough to house a full-grown adult human.

It tastes of mint and iron.

[/Action]

Comments

action;

[zumo]

[...It's officially creepy. Purple is his favorite color.

But this man, he's a firm believer in coincidences when he wants to be. So sometime later he heads in that general direction. No black flag, but his uniform's mostly black, at least. And the lapels have lavender flowers on them.

He's suddenly very conscious of that.

So, yeah. Here's a somewhat stiff Japanese soldier in the wilderness, wondering for the umpteenth time what the fuck he is doing with his life.]

[OOC: This may or may not be relevant; Toshi here is basically a vampire in his canon, if an anorexic one, but he's not undead and still has a "soul," so idk if dru would pick up on that.]

07!

[hismasterpiece]

[She can sense him before she sees him: one of her kind! But...no.


Not right.


Like SPIKE. Like him! Shining somewhere within. She groans slightly when she senses it. But when she sees the soldier, Dru moans for a different reason.

She's always enjoyed soldierly types.]

You've come.

[zumo]

[He glances around a little after she calls out.]

I guess I have.

[Sighing, the corners of his mouth turn up into a smirk as he continues.] So what's the occasion? I don't see any New Feathers around yet.

[It is in fact just him and the crazy foreign woman. This whole thing is just odd, no doubt about it.]

[bloodwaif]

The occasion is my hunger.

[She approaches him, slowly, trying to feel this out with her dampened senses and the conversation.]

You're different. You're not like me.

[zumo]

[He narrows his eyes at her response, but stays where he is as the strange woman approaches. He's not quite on-edge, but neither is he at ease.]

Not like you? [He scoffs a little.] That's obvious, isn't it? I doubt we have much in common.

[hismasterpiece]

But I can feel our....commonalities. I can see them. I can love them.

[There's a lot, though, that they do not share -- this is apparent enough.]

Are you here to stop me?

[zumo]

Stop you from what? Say it.

[Not that he hasn't already guessed. Drusilla's not the first one to know what he is just by looking at him.

He idly places his hand on his sword. Not moving, just waiting.]

[hismasterpiece]

Killing.

[She tries to catch his eyes with her own, and through that action to snare him.]

[zumo]

[Perhaps he blinked, or glanced down to his sword at the right time, but either way, he remains free of any snares for the moment.

Narrowing his eyes, he gives a dry response.] Well, I guess that would depend. Can't say I haven't done my fair share of killing myself. [He keeps his gaze on his sword, gripping it now as if it could give some sort of security.]

But...it's more than just that, isn't it? [He tries, tries to think back..."thirsty," she had said.] That night, when I found you by the fountain...

[hismasterpiece]

[As long as he has that sword, she is definitely not going to try anything. But Drusilla probably wouldn't anyway; she is family-starved still, and he is of her kind -- though different.]

Dead. I'd been dead. She killed me. The Slayer.


You'd best beware of her, kin.

[zumo]

Dead? [Now he looks up and peers over at Drusilla with a furled brow. He knows about the resurrections, of course, so that's not the interesting part, per se.]

So there's someone else here who can kill.....us? [The pronoun is used hesitantly, but if she really believes them to be similar (and for all he knows, they are; the rasetsu came from the West, after all), maybe she'll feel inclined to give him more information this way.]

[hismasterpiece]

There is. She runs in the moonlight, but it hates her. HATES. Buffy Summers, the slayer.


Kill her for me, yes?

[zumo]

Kill her? [He can't help but let out a chuckle at that one.]

No offense, lady, but we just met. We've got a ways to go before I'll start killing for you.