Application for Vishous (Black Dagger Brotherhood Series)

[bloodlettersson]

(ooc: V is taken from about halfway through Lover Unbound, just before he meets Jane. I don't think he'd survive long parted from Jane, so i'd rather not part them - again. :D)

V wasn’t as surprised as most people would be when they open their bedroom door and suddenly they aren’t in what should have been their bedroom. An expression of recognition

Comments

[tallyhopippip]

"Maybe in your army he is. Captain Darling was the desk clerk where I came from, before I came here."

[bloodlettersson]

Blessed Scribe Virgin, what the hell was that?

V stared for a moment, and then pulled out a hand rolled used his psychokinesis to light it. He took a long drag before even daring to attempt a reply. "I have no fucking idea who you're talking about," he said bluntly, giving him an apologetic smile that didn't quite look right on his face.

[tallyhopippip]

"Oh, I'm sorry, I though maybe you had been in the war too. Oh well. We're both here now, so welcome!"

[bloodlettersson]

He still didn't know who this 'he' was. But, as confusing as the guy was, he was willing to let it slide. Soldiers and all. "Thanks," he said, taking solace in his Turkish tobacco.

"Mind telling me where here is though?"

[vislor_turlough]

"Hm. You're right, your mother is a bitch. And not very smart. She should have just found a playboy who'd do that willingly."

[bloodlettersson]

"Thank you," he said, offering the man a smile and gesturing to him with his hand rolled. "She could have taken any old warrior and instead she chooses me. The bloodline can take a flying leap, feel me?"

[vislor_turlough]

"Well, she probably had a reason for picking you, but forcing you into it is still a bad move. With any luck, your kids will not turn out how she wanted."

[bloodlettersson]

Virgin's fucking tits. He did not want kids. He took a deep drag of his cigarette. "I won't have to look after them...I don't think I have the skills to look after them after my own fuck up of a childhood. It's...not my scene. At all."

Shit, why was he spilling his guts to this ginger? What he needed was to get really drunk and just pass out for a century or two.

[beets_r_god]

Dwight was a warrior, if only in his own mind. He had gone out to slaughter his own deer so that he could serve it to patrons at the bed and breakfast he owned. He was also the Butch Cassidy to Michael Scott's Mozart, fighting to make sure that Michael's every last whim--even if those whims were often strange and bizarre--was obeyed. Plus, he was an honorary member of the Order of the phoenix. He had a lapel pin which said so. So he was hardly impressed by some upstart, even if he did have at least a foot and a hundred pounds on Dwight. Because Dwight just bet that guy had never been a volunteer sheriff's deputy.

"Question," he said, eyeing the impressive man critically. "If you could travel backward in time to assassinate Adolf Hitler, would you do it? Which weapons would you use and why?"

[bloodlettersson]

He stroked at his goatee in thought. He had been alive around the time of Aldof Hitler, but that had been the humans' fuck up, not his kinds'.

Still civilians were civilians. "Probably," he said. Maybe if he was paid or something. Or is Wrath had asked it. "And I'd use this," he said, reaching into his trenchcoat and pulling out his 9mm Sword Cutlass Special. "This baby's done me well, no need to use anything special on him."

[beets_r_god]

Dwight nodded thoughtfully. "Of course," he murmured, "You would have to be fluent in German. German of a religious or military nature. Otherwise, you would fail utterly." Yes, this was a weird conversation. But this was Hogwarts. V was going to have to get used to that.

[bloodlettersson]

"I know a few languages, man, don't worry about that. Spend enough time around the male's I roll with and you'll pick up all sorts of useful things. Plus the internet's quite helpful." He didn't say anything about the Old Language being some thing like German, French and Romanian all in one big clusterfuck of vowels and consonants. It made it fairly easy to understand similar languages.

[charlesofdensen]

"Impressive collection. Do you have the skills to back it up?"

Yeah, Ofdensen's tempting fate, but he has a wand.

[bloodlettersson]

He picked up the pocket knife and turned it over in his hand. "Yeah, my man. Do you want a demonstration or you comfortable with my word?"

[charlesofdensen]

"A little demonstration, yes. Use the table. It can be repaired."

[bloodlettersson]

The table huh? He looked at it. Then grinned. Easy.

He flicked the pocket knife around his hand, flipping it open and closed, open and closed. Then he stabbed the table, driving the blade through the wood until the wood itself had a little crater in it. He kicked in one of the table legs, threw it and drew one of his Berettas, shot it into hundreds of splinters before it had even reached the floor.

He let his gun breathe while he turned to raise an eyebrow at the suit, smiling just enough for the tip of his fangs to be seen. "Good enough?"

[runaway_stark]

Arya was not afraid of large, scary looking men. However bad they looked, they could not compare to Ser Gregor, who was not called The Mountain that Rides for nothing. And if they were as bad as him... well, she had Needle.

"I want a knife," she said. More weapons were always good. She had Needle, her bravo's sword, with her constantly. And the pistol was now usually somewhere on her person. A knife would be good to have, too. "I know how to use them."

[bloodlettersson]

V was of the opinion that females should be looked after, and not have to look after themselves. This female made something in him twinge, and he rubbed at his left temple, remembering the camp.

He picked up the pocket knife and held it out to her. She brought out his protective instincts. "Just be careful with it, little miss. "I wouldn't like to hear that you hurt yourself somehow."

[runaway_stark]

She took the knife and glared up at him through her tangled hair. "I'll be fine," she said irritably. "I know what to do."

She examined the knife's blade carefully, noting the edge with some satisfaction. It wouldn't be her first choice of weapon, but if all else failed, it would work. She nodded and slipped it into a pocket. "I should vote you somewhere."

[bloodlettersson]

He wasn't talked back to often. His eyebrows rose and he held his hands up in defence, then dropped them again.

"Vote me wherever," he said, not really minding the outcome. Just as long as he got out so he could do some reconnaissance of the place. How the fuck had he ended up in Scotland?