(Untitled)

[vampiremarquise]

*there's another vampire on the ship, this one on the deck, standing right at the edge of it, leaning over the railing in a manner that would certainly be impossible for anyone mortal. She wears a loose shirt, breeches and a cloak: a man's clothing from the early 1800's, though the effect is somewhat upset by her long blonde hair - it's just grown

Comments

[sevendecksbelow]

"Can I help you...sir?" The last word is tentative, but he's still fairly sure no woman from the era of those clothes would dress as a man.

[vampiremarquise]

*turns around to look at him, an amused smile on her face because, this time, she wasn't even making an effort to disguise herself.* I really don't think I need any help at the moment, but thank you anyway.

[sevendecksbelow]

*coughs* Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am. I'll just be off then, shall I?

[vampiremarquise]

*looks at him for a moment, and he would do well to notice the fangs and be very, very careful, because dear Gabrielle has not fed yet* Without introducing yourself to me? I'm Gabrielle, by the way.

[sevendecksbelow]

*clears his throat, sweating slightly as he notices the fangs and wondering what in sweet Jesus' name he's just walked into* Fred Barrett, ma'am. Stoker.

[vampiremarquise]

*takes a step closer to him* That's a difficult job, isn't it?

[sevendecksbelow]

*wants to take a step back but finds he can't quite bring himself to do it* Difficult? Nay, the work itself is straight-forward. But tiring, even when you're used to it.