Cup of tea?

[beyondxtime]

Who: Dru and Nicki
What: Possible tea party
Where: Dru’s room
When: Late night, before Spike
Warnings: Nicki has a juicer

Comments

A bit like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7f4pw7LlctU

[deathly_dru]

Drusilla's music was a broken lullaby. Something suggestive of cracked dolls, injured birds and fairy tales read aloud from torn pages. Innocence and depravity, defrocked and laid bare while crows with hooked feet circled overhead.

Metal, flesh and a bouquet of barbed wire...

She was an undead tribute to vile corruption, to murder, to pain and pretty hungers.

Trapped, always trapped.

Handle twisted, door creaked open and a vision of pale death stood there humming with eyes closed. Arms already held out to sides in a floating compulsion of rhythmic crucifixion.

[beyondxtime]

Nicki ended on a screeching high note, and bowed dramatically. Bow in one hand, violin tucked by his chest . It was all some horribly mockery of something normal and good, young sweet things twisted and warped.

He flashed a fangy smile, and the instrument was under his arm, he held his hands out “Bonjour, chère”

[deathly_dru]

Eyes drifted open, widening for a moment and Drusilla seemed to possess an almost frightening level of clarity. Then, as arms drifted back down to sides, she looked his way, head turning. One hand reaching out, but refusing to make physical contact. Instead, hovering, vulture-like, above those offered to her.

"Such a messy life... But you're still young."

Her fingers were making absent-minded little clawing motions, scything together in mid-air. They were sensing the aura. Probing through the spiritual static for emotions of interest. Then a smile appeared and she seemed to chuckle, low in throat and dark. Swaying to an unheard melody as she circled around him.

There was something funny in the air.

And it hadn't even arrived yet.

"Ice cuts, you know... Ice burns. It's all cold outside, but you've yet to try it."

[beyondxtime]

Nicki giggled lightly like the aura probing tickled, and he swayed alittle and followed her turning lazily, always smiling. “I’ve burnt to death, I should like to freeze. What fun that would be, I could crack like glass” he made the sound effects of it, and wiggle his fingers to mimic breaking to pieces. They kept wiggling aimlessly with a mind of their own, towards the woman’s hands, and poked just in font of each finger like he was counting them, and they were each saying hello to the fellow fingers, but not touching.

He giggled again, and leaned lightly to kiss the air on either side of her cheeks “I’m Nicki, the dear and deviled violinist, The Tower, and who are you?”