[002.] Comment Log. Rated R for probable sexual content, and violence.

[lamortdeshommes]

[Witness one sleeping vampire, just before sundown, curled up within her blankets, using them like a cocoon. Her face is devoid of any guards or emotion, and she looks... almost human.

At least until there is a frantic pounding at the door.]
 

Comments

[messyturk]

OI. Open up!

[POUND. POUND. POUND. He's tried every other room on the deck and he's just met either nobody home or it being shut right back in his face.]

[lamortdeshommes]

[Have in your face one VERY irritable vampire, wrapped in a blanket and wearing a very tiny red nightdress.]

Are you insane?!

[messyturk]

[Hello woman in a red dress. Have a man who's hair color matches it.]

Probably, but not as insane as Vincent. Listen, you got a weapon or somewhere I can hide long enough to make one? There's a crazy I think demigod after me and I really like being alive at the moment.

[He's got a charming smile on and everything.]

[lamortdeshommes]

[In the second it takes her to think, she thinks quite a few things.

The kid is cute.

But he's pounding on my damn door at 6 o'clock.

He is desperate.

He may make a good snack.]

Well, in that case...

[She steps back to reveal a completely dark room, which is lavishly decorated for a passenger's room.]

[messyturk]

You might wanna lock that door. And put some furniture in front of it. And sodder it shut or something.

[He just pushes right in and begins looking for something to make a weapon out of]

Got a knife? Or some wire and an alarm clock? I"m pretty sure I remember how to make a bomb outta one of them, a shoelace and some nail polish.

[lamortdeshommes]

[She shuts the door, locking it firmly before leaning against it, still clutching the blanket to her body. It is now pitch dark. But she can see you easily. And in an instant, she is right next to him, turning on a lamp.]

I have nothing that may make for a weapon. I have no need of them. But you are welcome to hide under my bed...

[There is a smirk on her face, Reno. She is silently laughing at you.]

[messyturk]

Yeah. 'Cause hiding under a bed from a madman is always a good idea.

How much do you like that chair and that crystal vase?

[Though he wouldn't mind hiding in her bed.]

[lamortdeshommes]

Quite a bit, so I'll thank you not to destroy them.

[Dropping the blanket on the bed, because she's not worried about Reno in the slightest, she moves to her vanity and sits, preparing to brush her hair. There is no mirror at this vanity, however, as she does not need it.]

Although I suppose you could use the bar in my standing closet. But I'd like it back in one piece.

[messyturk]

[a frown of thought]

Is it solid metal? Iron'd be best but 's long as it's not something crappy like aluminum it'll be alright.

[lamortdeshommes]

It is solid.

[Aaand, she's still brushing.]

Hand me that dressing gown, will you?

[She points to the black and red one that is rather transparent and is almost as short as the nightdress. Which is also sliiiightly transparent.]

[messyturk]

Sure.

[He's just going to toss it to her on his way to remove the bar. Then he'll stare at her nipples okay?]

Listen, if we get outta this alive you wanna go for a drink later?

[lamortdeshommes]

[She catches it without looking and slips it on. Moving to her mini-fridge, she pours herself a glass of blood.]

I don't think you know what qualifies as a drink for me...

[messyturk]

[There's a few smells Reno would know anywhere. Booze, smoke and blood. You get covered in something enough times you never forget it.]

...right. So long as you don't make me drink somethin' with a froofy umbrella in it we're cool.

[he's just going to chalk it up to the boat at the moment. BRB UNSCREWING YOUR ROD.]

[lamortdeshommes]

[Have a laugh as she sits on her bed.]

You are quite safe.

[notwhatiwas]

[As if waiting for a cue, at that instant the door to Isabella's room all but explodes inward. Vincent stands on the other side--although "stands" isn't quite the right word, he's several inches off the ground, with his hands curled clawlike at his sides, teeth bared and eyes narrowed.

Those eyes are a bright, burning yellow. His limbs are slightly disproportionate, as if trying to match the design of his monstrous left arm, and his skin is a pale, faintly-glowing ash blue. A breeze seems to drift around him, ruffling at his cloak and hair as he turns, too slowly, to look first at Reno, then at Isabella.]

Leave.

[Like a dozen voices layered over each other, deep and rough and anything but human. There's still Vincent in there, but not for long.]

[lamortdeshommes]

[As her door flies off it's hinges, Isabella shadow steps from her bed to the middle of the room, fangs bared and hands clawed. Who is intruding upon her room? Hissing at the man at her doorway, she stares him down.]

This is my room. You leave.