Your life is pathetic... [OPEN]

[getsthelastword]

Who: Damon and whoever he happens to eat meet
What: Arriving
When: Friday (Feb 19)
Where: The Rowan Tree

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[minthemagician]

Irmingard of Landing hugged herself as she walked over the land-bridge to the tree. Today was seeming so long. That had been happening, lately -- some days it seemed like she'd hardly walked out the door that the sun was going down, others seemed to just have so many hours in them. Today was in the latter category, and she was already tired out from too much work. She'd eaten and drank her fill at the majicks' tavern, but both her magic and the ale had left her head feeling... floaty. So she'd gone for a walk, and found her fur-lined boots leading her toward the Rowan Tree.

She was halfway across the bridge when she saw something -- no, someone -- appear at the base.

No way.

Min sped up to a loping jog, but slowed again to a walk when the man got up and started to walk toward her. She approached, focusing as best she could on his face (oh Gods below he was naked. pretty but naked. don't look at the nakedHe was in front of her. She should probably say something eloquent. Something to appropriately welcome him to this new (for him)

[getsthelastword]

Well. That was a convenient. Blond on demand.

Damon would have laughed at that. But he was took hungry to laugh. Too hungry to think really, think about her silky blond hair and those eyes. The cobalt blue eyes.

The statue's eyes. Yes. That's all it was unnerving him now.

"No gods," he murmured, his throat dry and parched. God, he needed something to eat. "Just devils."

Damon's face changed before her, his forehead wrinkling and contracting so that his eyes widened, pupils dialating to overpower everything. He reached out with his mind to confound her and felt...nothing. He felt absolutely nothing. What the hell?

Screw it. No time to think. Time to eat. He'd be sloppy. He was pretty good at disposing of bodies anyway.

Damon launched himself at her, fangs flashing.

[minthemagician]

Min couldn't help shrinking back a bit when his face did that -- that thing -- her body tensing, ready to defend herself.

So when he threw himself at her, she still let out a short, shrill scream out of reflex. But she also threw up a hand as she jumped back, conjuring up a large brick. Floating in the air, right in front of his freaky face.

[blytheandbonnie]

Bonnie had been hunting in the woods when she had heard the scream.

It had scared away the deer that she had been just about to pounce on, and that annoyed her. Bonnie was hungry. For a moment, she lingered where she was, debating just how guilty she would feel if she made no attempt to save the screamer.

Too guilty for comfort, she decided. After sighing irritably, Bonnie began running in the scream's direction. Not fast enough yet, she thought regretfully. The trees were blurry around her as she ran, and it was certainly still faster than a normal human would run, but there wasn't that sense of everything mish-mashing together like some sort of cray watercolor painting around her.

Still at full speed, she threw herself at the figure attacking the blonde and she knocked him down to the ground, falling on top of him.

You don't want to hurt this woman, Bonnie willed, still spread out over the man. You want to leave her alone.