(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
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He stepped forward and shook her hand, even though vampires tended not to shake hands. "A pleasure to meet you, China," he said, looking through her rather than at her. His prescience warned him to be on his guard around her, and so he didn't start laying on the charm as he normally would when presented with a female like her. "Call me V," he said, reiterating himself.
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Her eyes caught sight of the medallion and they widened, like a child's on christmas day, though her reaction was calmer than any four-year-old's. She gravitated to the desk, and picked it up, letting the chain fall through her fingers. "Lovely item. What circa?"
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V was about to meet one of them.
Lately a resident of the lake outside Hogwarts castle, Nidhögg's head-the only part of him that could fit through one of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Sorting Room-was covered with aquatic plant life of all kinds, clinging to his crown of large horns, hanging from his jaws like a slimy beard, sprouting from between scales the colour of an oil slick.
"Your visions?" the serpent inquired in his rumbling voice, tilting his head to regard V with one lambent eye. "Tell me of them." There was very little that anyone in this specific world and place could offer him that he'd have any use for-it was generally limited to knowledge and entertainment. He'd taken a keen interest in a death metal guitarist who just so happened to be Odin's son for the latter, while his question for V had to do with the former.
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V stared in awe for a while before he realised he'd been asked a question. "Ah," he said, clearing his throat. "I get--dreams. I see my brother's deaths before they happen, I know how I die too, I just don't know when. I have prescience too. Telekinesis, pyrokinesis." He tilted his head at the serpent.
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Dreams. Yes... V was not of a strictly mortal race, nor was he among the Æsir, but somewhere inbetween, Nidhögg guessed. Being unconscious would probably prevent the unfortunate side effects of insanity that such an ability often caused in those bound by mortal limits.
"You experience visions pertaining only to yourself and those already known to you?" he asked, curious about the range of V's ability. "Do you see anything other than death?"
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"That's generally how it is, yeah," he said, in reply to the serpents first question. "I could also use it for various other things; predicting a brother's future mate, for example." Though that had been rather abstract. A virgin, he'd said. Mary had not been a virgin, but her name, Mary Madonna, was a clear link.
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But, regardless, Maddie wanders into the sorting room.
And sees tons of knives. Not much else, just tons of knives.
She'd like to get out, but the mun won't let her.
"Bloody hell," she mutters, wanting melt into the wall since she can't get out of the door.
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"Sorry," he said, since he was on his best behaviour.
He lit another smoke, with his golden lighter this time, to give him something to do with his hands. He watched her.
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On second thought, she might agree. She's not fond of the military (US branch) or the police (having a gun in your mouth does things to a girl, after all).
At least it didn't look like any of them are projectile weapons and he didn't act like he was out to kill her...yet.
So, she decides for the practical route. "Has anyone told you where you are and when and as much of why as any of us has figured out?"
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"As long as this place is a longass time out I'm tight."
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Brienne strode into the sorting room, fresh from a workout. Like her canonmate, Arya Stark, her first thought was of Ser Gregor, the Mountain that Rides. This man certainly looked like someone who would have been at home among the legendary Westerosi warriors.
Brienne herself, of course, was no slouch in the warrior department. She was no delicate flower of womanhood, standing well over six feet, and being broad-shouldered, with no curves to speak of. Not to mention her bad teeth and a nose that had clearly been broken a time or two.
She examined the items Vishous had put on the table as a bribe before meeting his gaze steadily with her own.
"You seem very confident," she stated. "What is it that you fight?"
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He elaborated, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head at her as he did. "Lessers are minions of The Omega. Kind of like zombies. We've been at war with them for a long time."
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"Do these Lessers eat human flesh, then?" she asked. Because she would not know to make a reference to brains, much to the mun's disappointment.
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"Mostly they just hunt us vampires. We're kind of enemy races by nature."
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"I like to be prepared," V replied.
He took out one of his guns. His gun cabinet at the Brotherhood's mansion was full of Glocks, but these were something just a little special he'd taken a shine to. He flipped off the safety, cocked it, and took a step away from her.
He shot at the table, grinned a little as it blew a decent sized hole in the wood. "Projectiles," he said, flipping the safety back on and letting the gun breathe for a moment. He made no move to hand it over to her, he rather liked living, thank you very much.
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