03 - Yummy-Yummy Mayfield

[nyanpirenya]

[Action A | 1649 Albright Lane, morning]

[After a lovely breakfast of crunchy toast with strawberry jam, Nyanpire has gone out to get the mail. He's being helpful! It's good to be helpful! He hums to himself, mouth full of letters, and slips back inside to spit them out on the living room coffee table.]

...nyaa?

[But wait! There's a letter

Comments

B

[tenebrousking]

...

If you ask nicely, you can have a saucer of milk.

B

[nyanpirenya]

Nyaa! I don't want milk! I want BLOOD!

[tenebrousking]

You really don't have to do that. Halloween was three days ago.

[nyanpirenya]

Nyaa! Imma vampire! A REAL vampire! For real! Nyaa! I'm hungry! Blood! Blood! I want blood!

[Oh dear. That really set him off. Now he's just pitching a fit.]

[tenebrousking]

My dear little kitten.

[And Grimsley will kneel down to level a serious expression at Nyanpire.]

If you're going to be a vampire, you really must represent yourself in a more... refined manner. A vampire is a creature of poise and sophistication, not a toddler throwing a tantrum.

[nyanpirenya]

[And that stops his undignified fit short. He's still on his back, paws still in the air, but he's staring at Grimsley with some actual focus.]

...what do I gotta do, nyaa? To be a good vampire?

[tenebrousking]

It's quite simple.

Stand straight and composed, with a smile and a rose; seduce your victims with charm, not whine. Saunter, don't swagger; don't ever plead or nag her. And remember, above all else: be refined.

The image is as important as the outcome. It's all about... style.

[nyanpirenya]

Charm... roses... red roses? Red like blood?

[Okay, okay, maybe he can get on board with this.]

Style! I will be a STYLISH NYANPIRE. Nyaa.

[tenebrousking]

Precisely.

Now, then... Are you really in need of blood?

[nyanpirenya]

Y...yes. Nyaa. I nyeed blood to feel full!

[Dignity! Style! Dignified style! He is trying SO HARD to keep that up!

Maybe if he had a rose, it would be easier.]

[tenebrousking]

Hmm...

Just this once, then.

[A brilliant flash of light and Bisharp appears, staring down at the kitten underfoot. Grimsley clears his throat.]

Slash me lightly on the forearm, if you could.

[Bisharp looks incredulous.]

[nyanpirenya]

Nyaa? No, no! No cuts! I have fangs and I bite you!

[And he bares his little fangs in demonstration.

...but not for long, because he has never seen a Bisharp before.]

...Nyaa? Who're you?

[tenebrousking]

...That hardly sounds hygienic. Though I suppose if you're truly undead, you have no contaminants to transfer.

[Bisharp glances down and blinks some more at the kitten, as if incredulous at the sight. The steel creature will slowly lower itself to one knee to better peer at the kitty.]

Bisharp.

[And that marks the first time Bisharp has uttered anything but a grunt in six months.]

[nyanpirenya]

[Nyanpire is momentarily distracted from the obtaining of blood, as Bisharp is really really interesting. And kind of pointy. He's peering right back, cautiously curious.]

Nyaa. Bisharp? I'm Nyanpire!

[tenebrousking]

[Bisharp grunts.]

Shhhhh'p.

[He will reach out a (pointy) arm towards the kitten. Grimsley will look on with some measure of amusement.]

[nyanpirenya]

Nyaaaaaa....

[Fascinated but cautious, Nyanpire lifts a paw and extends his claws, but doesn't swipe. He holds it out, slooowly. Maybe it's some kind of pointy handshake?]