Closed; Complete
WHO: Alucard Dracul (toothsomehound) and, uh, sort of, Rhode Kamelot (dolcezzamacabra)
WHAT: Fun and adventures immediately following this event.
WHERE: The gates of the Vescovo mansion
WHEN: December 5th, pre-dawn
Coughing, Alucard took a step back to survey his work. He wiped the blood that came up off on his shirt- already sullied, from their little scuffle in the crypts.
Rhode was strung up on the gates of the Vescovo manor, bound to the iron framework so tightly that he was quite sure all the pretty iron embellishments were digging into her skin quite painfully. From her neck to her toes he'd bound her, taking especial care to wrap the cord several times around her neck. It formed a collar of sorts, and one he intended to use to send a message. The cord was wrapped close enough to her neck that it dipped into the bite wound he'd caused. The mess of muscle and tendon looked like it had been attacked by a starved animal, now that he looked at it with a more impartial eye. Hmm.
It would take hours to cut her down and, better yet, until she was, the main gate couldn't be opened. She would be a mark of shame for the house of Vescovo- one that the entire city could and would see. The candle driven into her lung was still dripping blood lethargically. He supposed that he must have jostled it a it when he was stringing her up: he'd wrapped the cord around the candle, too.
She was suspended in a position that wouldn't look out of place in a Catholic church- crucified. Her face, beaten and bloody, was twisted in agony even in her unconscious state. It was, he felt, a very satisfying image. He would have liked to have put her upside down to maximize the blasphemy, but he hadn't had the strength in him. Instead, he had taken out all the candles (agonizing, tearing, pain and black) from himself and made a neat little pile of them just below her feet.
Yes, Alucard felt quite pleased with what he had done. The trick now was to get back to Integral's without collapsing in the street. Trotting (more like staggering, but he would humor himself) away from the little present, he had to admit: it was certainly stylish. The sun would be rising soon, and from the way the Vescovo manor was positioned, Rhode would be nothing more than a silhouette.
WHAT: Fun and adventures immediately following this event.
WHERE: The gates of the Vescovo mansion
WHEN: December 5th, pre-dawn
Coughing, Alucard took a step back to survey his work. He wiped the blood that came up off on his shirt- already sullied, from their little scuffle in the crypts.
Rhode was strung up on the gates of the Vescovo manor, bound to the iron framework so tightly that he was quite sure all the pretty iron embellishments were digging into her skin quite painfully. From her neck to her toes he'd bound her, taking especial care to wrap the cord several times around her neck. It formed a collar of sorts, and one he intended to use to send a message. The cord was wrapped close enough to her neck that it dipped into the bite wound he'd caused. The mess of muscle and tendon looked like it had been attacked by a starved animal, now that he looked at it with a more impartial eye. Hmm.
It would take hours to cut her down and, better yet, until she was, the main gate couldn't be opened. She would be a mark of shame for the house of Vescovo- one that the entire city could and would see. The candle driven into her lung was still dripping blood lethargically. He supposed that he must have jostled it a it when he was stringing her up: he'd wrapped the cord around the candle, too.
She was suspended in a position that wouldn't look out of place in a Catholic church- crucified. Her face, beaten and bloody, was twisted in agony even in her unconscious state. It was, he felt, a very satisfying image. He would have liked to have put her upside down to maximize the blasphemy, but he hadn't had the strength in him. Instead, he had taken out all the candles (agonizing, tearing, pain and black) from himself and made a neat little pile of them just below her feet.
Yes, Alucard felt quite pleased with what he had done. The trick now was to get back to Integral's without collapsing in the street. Trotting (more like staggering, but he would humor himself) away from the little present, he had to admit: it was certainly stylish. The sun would be rising soon, and from the way the Vescovo manor was positioned, Rhode would be nothing more than a silhouette.