First Culling - [Action / Voice]

[iratus]

[It's been two days since the wraith first arrived in Luceti. His confusion at his new surroundings (and wings) had left him bewildered. But he had avoided the human dwelling, scouting the area, learning about his situation. Under the cover of darkness, he had retrieved his belongings- a long black coat and his stun weapon. A thorough read through the journal appraised him of the situation. This morning, he took his first victim in secret. The body was promptly taken care of and hidden where it wouldn't be found. He would need to be less careless if he was to survive here for long. Once the population determined what he was doing, they'd turn on him in a moment.

There had been unexpected consequences to his feeding and he found himself in an almost euphoric mood. He had never experienced anything like this before. He was enjoying himself, in fact. The logical side of him recognized it as being problematic. Unsettling. Wrong. Yet he couldn't find himself too concerned with it. He would need to familiarize himself with the village. Today was as good as any other. So, strolling through the village is a tall, pale humanoid dressed in a black longcoat. No, Sephiroth and his clones aren't back. He will be in the general store and smithy inspecting the items, as well as the library perusing the various books for information. He seems to be in good spirits as he strolls around the village, but at all times he seems to be incredibly at ease. In control of the situation.

Later, he chooses to introduce himself. Better to present himself as friendly then to skulk in the shadows. He speaks in an unusual, alien voice. Despite its oddness, he sounds amicable and peaceful.]

I believe it is customary for 'New Feathers' to make themselves known to the village. Not an unusual custom, but I suppose most first introductions are associated with some measure of panic and worry. However, I believe I have already made myself adequately comfortable with the conditions here in this village. I will ask a question instead. Who among you are familiar with the Stargate? I understand on the planet Earth it is a highly guarded secret, so I will not be surprised if none of you are aware of it. Perhaps there might even be others such as myself, space faring people. Not that such knowledge is of use on this forsaken planet, but there might be information we could share.

[In the evening, he will return to the forest. He is not entirely comfortable staying in the village at the mercy of so many humans. Not when he can keep to himself. He'll just have to try and find some acceptable living arrangements. Perhaps one of the New Feather stations, for yet another night.]

Comments

[hismasterpiece]

[Then the mind-feeling was mutual -- a kind of psychic outreach, if you will. Drusilla draws back from it slightly, then closes her eyes and probes further. She does not have the same boundaries or standards. Very, very few, in fact.]

Maybe I'm not, my lord. Perhaps I am not here. But you -- you are brimming and powerful. I feel it right in the bottom of my belly.

[iratus]

[He notices. When he can feel her digging, he begins to close his mind to hold her off.]

Then I would think it wise to be careful where you pry. You seem to have quite a gift.

[bloodwaif]

My gift? It is from hell, this gift. Daddy told me that; mummy too. My name is Drusilla, and I have quite a gift.

[She curtsies for him, pulling back her mind when he pushes back. But not after a rather vicious mind-jab to prove her point.]

[iratus]

[He raises his hand to the side of his hand. Oh, he felt that. There were queens who would use that on their followers as a show of power. He'd felt it more than once before, though never from his queen. The show of ability was not taken kindly, but he did little to betray that.]

So it seems. Tell me, Drusilla, you are clearly not human, despite appearances. What are you?

[hismasterpiece]

[In answer, she shifts into game face, briefly.]

Vampire. She's a vampire, she said. One of the Night Children. One of the cursed. Demon. Blood-drinker.

[iratus]

[The shifted face surprises him momentarily, but soon he's smirking.]

Very clever. You hide among humans without notice. Is it their blood you drink?

[hismasterpiece]

It is their blood. [She goes back to normal face.] But here -- here I have not tasted anything. It's too dangerous. There's nowhere, nowhere, nowhere to hide, and the sun is my enemy always.

[iratus]

[Well well well. What an odd coincidence. She had the same need as he. Or similar, at least.]

How unfortunate. Will you starve?

[bloodwaif]

The beasts. I drink them, though the taste --

[Here she growls, quite beast-like herself.]

Nasty stuff.

[iratus]

[He displays his feeding hand. The hand mouth is calm and unmoving. He has had his fill and it does not yearn for life as it had before.]

The beasts do not provide what I require.

For some reason the Feeding Hand just made me...die of laughter.

[bloodwaif]

And what is that? Power? [Because she can feel it ... smell it ... sense it. Great power.]

at least he doesn't chew on people's necks!!

[iratus]

[He withdraws his hand.]

It is how I feed.

I keep thinking of that glove guy killing people.

[bloodwaif]

[Somehow Drusilla is actually turned on by this. No one will ever, ever know why. It's a MOUTH HAND FOR GOD'S SAKE.]

Do you want company this evening, good sir?

people that will never hamburger again

[iratus]

[It's a slit in his hand. Of course she's turned on. It's like a handgina.]

And what sort of company would you provide? You do not suit my particular diet and my own blood will not be easily gained.

oh dear god

[bloodwaif]

A different kind of company entirely, sweet. The company a lady can provide a man with hungry hands.

[Oh, the tags that I wrote and deleted before settling on this.]

8D

[iratus]

[At that, he begins to chuckle.]

I don't think you're quite what I'm looking for in a queen. But all the same, the company would be appreciated. I've spent too long around humans already.

[hismasterpiece]

[Ugh! That gets her nose in the air and an indignant look on her face, for certain. Still, she isn't about to turn down his company. He is so fascinating, after all.]

You don't find them amusing, my lord?

[iratus]

Humans certainly have their moments. But I prefer to be among my own kind. [Where he is not labeled with such ridiculous names like "Todd".]

[hismasterpiece]

Demons? [In that sense, she kind of IS his own kind. If she's right about the demon thing, of course.]

[iratus]

[At that he does chuckle, followed by a shake of the head.]

According to some people, perhaps. We are known as the Wraith.

[hismasterpiece]

Wraiths are ghosts, wraiths haunt tombs. Wraiths are lovely, lovely gentlemen. [She sweeps a bit of a curtsy at that, though she hasn't taken her eyes off him. Wraiths could be dangerous, maybe.]

[iratus]

[He shakes his head a bit. Like his own name, the wraith do not have a verbal name for their own species that they use. It is one that has been given to them by their enemies and victims.]

I am no ghost, nor do I have any interest in tombs. But, perhaps, the last one is true.

[hismasterpiece]

Then one day we shall go dancing, m'lord, as the gentlemen and ladies do. Dancing atop the cake with the graceful ladies and fine sirs.

[iratus]

[Dancing. A human custom, wasn't it? The Wraith did not do such things.]

I have lived thousands of years, my lady. [He was catching on with whatever her game was, at least.] But never have I danced.

[bloodwaif]

With red shoes on! [She'll just...ignore his I've never danced statement.] Wet red shoes.