| Subject: Not So Charming |
Author:
Deangelo
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Date Posted: 09:06:06 04/10/05 Sun
In reply to:
Zeth
's message, "Prince" on 03:03:11 04/08/05 Fri
What did this femme know of male conquest? With an attitude like this and an apparent tendancy to start swinging blades around just when the atmosphere of the apartment took a turn toward the erotic, surely she had not often enjoyed being conquered in the very same gutters into which she would demote Zeth. Lighten up, witch, and maybe some poor desperate male-gendered creature would help ease those aggressions in a more constructive way. But this was not his fight, not his stand-off, and a good thing too, as he now, against his nature, bit his tongue and kept to the background. Just a young vampire, his thoughts, and... a dead woman in his arms...
Of course he recognized death. But something in Bri, something in her silent figured draped in his arms, struggled with powers he could not name, though sense the interchange he did, young even as he was. And the unfamiliar... what would it be called? transformation? evolution? alteration, let's leave it at alteration... within the woman he was charged to protect froze his blood in his veins and sent a tingle of nervousness through his insides. Like a young horse who has just caught the scent of death on the trail ahead and he looked down on her still, crimson-stained form with eyes of wide unease and distaste. Not only was it never wise to linger long about the dead -that was just asking to be indentified as what he was and no sane vampire wished for the wider world to know his nature publicly- but the heightening strangeness of the situation, from paid slayers to silent shifts of energies and now dead bodies, had the young male increasingly on edge, ever more flustered. And he darted a wild glance to Zeth at the male's whispered words, green eyes narrowing with the sense that the lady Bri was still about even as he clutched her cooling body to him. Eww. That was yet another reason to drop her and flee. Dead bodies were cold. That, and he was once again soaked thanks to Bri- first in ocean waves, now in her blood. Great.
And with her death, thus concluded his efforts this night as an utter waste. Though... no, nevermind, Zeth wouldn't thank him for delivering Bri to her death on the fire-escape, even if she may have spared the older male the same fate.
He really should go. His task was complete. Failed, but complete. And if Zeth and Bri had an undefeatable family alliance to fight in unified force, he had no such thing and he, like Sabra, was more a lean, stray dog on the cold outside of any such happy Christmas scene. Had to fight for himself and watch his own tail. And there was no advantage to staying here longer. But drop his cargo he would not and as the combatants faced off still, he inched around the outskirts, eye always on Sabra as he made his careful, nervous way toward the window. Return the body to the bedroom and show himself out the front, leave these strangers to their own fights, that he might live to see another one tomorrow.
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