The Witching Hour//BYOA
Well, this was interesting. The entire hotel decided to play dress up, it seemed. She'd noticed some of the other 'guests' running from a few of the demonic beings chasing them earlier... not that she had much to worry about. She had stopped fearing things that went bump in the night a long while ago. Of course, that tended to happen when you lived
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Oh yes, the Hotel was digging deep into the barrel to find something capable of giving the commander of Hellsing a cheap shock, if nothing else.
From the blackness of the corridor, just beyond where the lights had failed, a single glinting rifle-end protuded. The cut wires that ran long the 'spooky' glow-lights at the coners sparked, and a tall, deathly-pale (hah) woman stood there. Her glasses and jagged teeth reflected more of the light than her rifle did, for some strange reason.
"Is this an enemy I see before me?", Rip Van Winkle said almost musingly, holding the two-metre jezzail with ease and keeping it aimed directly at Integra's head.
Her eyes flashed in the dark, and the bright glimmer of her fangs breifly dulled as her tongue slipped over her lips. "Oh, the things the Major will bestow upon me when I bring him what remains of you," she braethed out heavily, voice shuddering in anticipation. "But-"
Rip chuckled, a grating, cold sound. "Ha! No longer one of your precious humans, Sir Integra! Did that fool Samiel finally break his vow to guard you? None but the vampires of Millenium are ever truly loyal!"
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At least she wouldn't have to actually hunt for dinner tonight. The Hotel so graciously gave her Rip, after all, and while usually she'd rather starve than drink the blood of a Nazi freak, the heiress just couldn't pass this one down.
"Rip Van Winkle," she began, turning to face the other woman completely now. "Alive because of the Hotel, are you?" Perhaps Rip hadn't noticed the sudden mood shift within Integra, the darker, far more aggressive aura about her.
Finally, she smiled slightly, allowing her own fangs to glint eerily in the faint light. "Break his vow? Don't be silly. The vampires of Millennium are all cheap copies. 'Samiel' did not fail to guard me. He is my maker, not that it's any of your business."
Slowly, she began to stalk forward, crimson hues narrowing. "But, enough of that. Right now, the Hotel has been gracious enough to give you to me for the evening, and I'm starving..."
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"Why wouldn't I be alive? Samiel tore me apart, and now I hunt the inmates of hell." Not really an explanation, but she'd been trained by the Major in obfuscating retorts.
Her head went back, tilting beyond the bounds of a normal human, before snapping back at Integra with an audible click. "Oh, you are positively adorable, Sir Integra~! It's like watching an ant lift his ball of dung, believing that if he makes it back to his lair he can become a beautiful butterfly!"
The click now was of the bolt being pulled back. "I will devour you, Sir Integra. You cannot hide from these, the Freischuetze's bullets!"
Click-BOOM!, and the first bullet whirred out of the barrel to lance at Integra's head.
[[OOC: And yes, the simile at the start is purposefully flawed. ^^;]]
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