(Untitled)

[but_i_will]

Here's a little blonde vampire you've not seen in a while

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[mogget_cat]

*It takes a special kind of person to be able to nose someone's ankle smugly.*

*Yrael is just that special.*

[but_i_will]

"It's a pity that you always visit in cat form rather than charming young man form." Darla says, idly reaching down to scratch the cat behind his ears.

"Though I suppose it does give you an excuse not to contribute to the conversation." she teases.

[mogget_cat]

*Yrael pushes his head up against Darla's fingers for more friction, purring loudly.*

A pity, yes. Oooh, yes. Right there.

[but_i_will]

"Must be nice. Everyone likes a cat." she muses, still petting the cat in question.

"You know, for all the stories, I never actually met another of my kind who could turn into anything -- no bats or anything dreadful like that. As if we'd want to turn into vermin."

[pretty_maids]

Drusilla is sitting in a booth not far away. She senses Darla before she see's her, and she turns slowly to the vampire, her breath catching in her chest. She tries to make herself smaller, unnoticable to Darla, but she already knows that it won't work.

[but_i_will]

Darla does notice, after a moment, her senses picking up on a familiar scent that seems... different.

She takes a step closer, still confused by the change that is both apparent and yet still not yet understood.

"Dru?" she says, at a loss for anything else to say.

[pretty_maids]

Dru's heartrate increases as Darla approaches. Before, she was never afraid of her grandmother. That was when their strength was of similar levels, when Dru could fight back. Now she's just the same as she was on the day over one hundred years ago when Darla pointed her out to Angel. She's weak. And she's afraid.

"Hello grandmummy."

[but_i_will]

Darla blinks, and steps closer, not trusting the message her senses were sending.

"What have they done to you?"

Her question takes on the slightest accusatory tone, because a part of her already knows, can already tell the horrid thing that's been done, or rather, undone.

[grovecj]

There is the mortal guy. The plain simple normal mortal guy. In a rather somber mood, taking a seat at the bar.

He seems ready to a new shock in his life.

[but_i_will]

Plain mortals are so much fun to toy with.

"Hello there." Darla purrs, as charming as ever. "Come here often?"

[grovecj]

He blinks, and his jaw does not drop. "Huh, yeah. Ah do..." Blinks, breathes deep, recompose, man. "I'm Carl, Carl Johnson."

[but_i_will]

"I'm Darla." she says, offering a delicate hand.

"Just Darla."

She smiles, and very carefully does not flash any fang, oh no. Nothing so vulgar as that. Just a smile, perfectly innocent.

Right.