Must keep those black wings folded [VERY OPEN]
Who: Raphael and dinner YOU!
When: Some random evening anytime within the next few weeks (hello bendytime)
Where: Isolated areas of the city, your pick specifically where.
Summary: Raphael goes hunting for prey in the shadows of the city.
Warnings: Violence and blood and neck-biting.
( Don't worry, I've done this before-- it'll hurt like hell and leave you sore )
When: Some random evening anytime within the next few weeks (hello bendytime)
Where: Isolated areas of the city, your pick specifically where.
Summary: Raphael goes hunting for prey in the shadows of the city.
Warnings: Violence and blood and neck-biting.
( Don't worry, I've done this before-- it'll hurt like hell and leave you sore )
Comments 99
"What do you want?"
[Yeeeaah, I pretty much had to do this to him. He needs to learn to stay away from blue space vampires. I hope the mall was an okay location?]
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"A simple matter, monsieur," he said.
Once they were a good distance into one of the alleys, Raphael slammed the man against the wall, holding his arms behind his back and leaning in close over his shoulder... seemingly content just to breathe in his ear for the moment.
[Perfect.]
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His protest ended when he hit the wall. Great. He was about to be mugged by some stranger in the mall. Some very creepy stranger. How did he always manage to get into these kinds of messes? Like hell he's accepting this without a fight. He attempts to twist around and free himself from the man's surprisingly strong grasp. When that doesn't work, he'll try swinging a leg back to hopefully kick him.
[I figure that in a contest of straight strength, 'vampire' beats 'teenage French aristocrat.']
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"It will be so much easier if you refrain from struggling," he said darkly.
Without further ado, he leaned into the side of the teenager's neck, sharpened teeth puncturing the soft flesh and sinking in deep. Raphael's eyes lit up as he began to feed.
[Hey, what do you know, Raphael is himself a French aristocrat, who also hates French aristocrats!]
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He'll just have to be quick, then. Hood pulled up to conceal his features, he briskly makes his way back towards shelter. weaving his way through empty alleyways, when this uncouth interruption makes him stop.
His limbs are immediately tensed beneath the other's grip, but his movements are small and calm as he lets his one hand stray towards the short blade at his belt. "What do you want." There's no emotion in his voice, and he doesn't bother to look back at the culprit yet.
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Raphael began to guide the man off to the side of the alley, towards the wall. It was much easier to hold them still when he had the aid of a solid building, he'd found, and many of them remained shocked long enough for him to take as much as he needed. This man would be another nourishing meal for Amy.
"Hold still, and I shall spare your life."
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A lesser man might have obeyed the threat, but Assassins were never taught to surrender to their foes. Before he could be pinned against the wall, he pivoted on his heel and parried the dagger away from his back with the clash of steel on steel. He reeled his arm back for only a moment before stabbing it deep in the other's abdomen and jerking up. The action merited no words, but he did take the chance to glare at the man's face, assessing his features.
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He was interrupted by the sharp pain of the dagger stabbing into his abdomen, a cold sting that ripped through the black clothes he was wearing, opening an ugly wound up the front of his body. Raphael froze for a moment, stunned with pain, but his look of shock turned slowly into... was that amusement?
The curse made him stronger at night, and now it seemed to be dulling his pain. He smiled malevolently at his victim, pointed teeth standing out on his lips as he reached down, grasped the man's dagger hand with his own and jerked the blade right back out of his body, shoving the man hard towards the wall as he did.
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When suddenly Raphael makes his trademark attack ... ]
OOooooh la la~~~!
[ There's something poking insistently into Grell's back. He TOTALLY MISINTERPRETS what that something is! ]
Vous etes TRES ENTHUSIASTIQUE, Monsieur!
[ Spoken with the WORST French accent imaginable! ]
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He says nothing, merely pushing the dagger harder so that this foolish woman might understand just what was going on, steering off towards the abandoned alley nearby.]
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OOOoooOOoooh~! Monsieur! Ou etes-vous--
[ Aaaaaand Grell's rubbish French breaks down completely. ]
Where are you taking me, you bruuuuuuute! Won't someone saaaaave me! Oh! Oh!
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Quiet, you fool. Do not flatter yourself. [He's got all the sexual libido of a maple tree and don't you forget it.
He shoves Grell against the wall of the alley and moves in close, shoving him against the opposite wall with two firm hands on his shoulders, leering with those blood red eyes of his.
At last. The sort of taste he enjoyed in his blood.]
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But the shock of someone grabbing her from behind, something sharp pressing lightly into the small of her back, made her drop the cup, the remnants of the smoothie splattering across the floor. Her voice came out rather high-pitched. "Um! If bonsoir means give me your money, I don't really have that much left! Smoothies are expensive, you know!"
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Raphael was pulling her off to the side, into an alley between shops where nobody would bother to look for a few minutes. Already, his mouth was watering at the tantalizing scent of this young woman's blood... it had been so long since he tasted his favorite brand.
"It's so much simpler than that," he said quietly, pushing her down on her knees, facing against the alley wall. "You'll barely even notice it's gone."
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"I think I most certainly would notice if something was gone!" Almost as soon as she was pushed down to her knees, Vanille sprang up again, aiming a foot for the stranger's instep. "Let me go, you fiend!"
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"It will be so much less painful if you don't struggle," he snarled, leaning in close and seeming to inhale her scent. So sweet, so pure, so young and beautiful... oh, she would taste divine.
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She was careful, but usually not concerned. That changed when she felt a hand on her shoulder, an instant before its fingers clamped down, vice-like, and the blade against the small of her back. She stiffened, thoughts running through her mind a thousand a minute--none of them panicked, just honestly curious. How did this man sneak up on her?
"If money is your aim, I have none." Her voice was calm, collected. Even if she was afraid, she wouldn't show it.
[Just as a heads up, Sev has a bloodstream laced with tiny machines with not-so-nice ( ... )
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"Never fear. I don't intend to take your life, unless it is foolishly offered to me."
[EWWW SHE TASTES LIKE OIL]
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"I do not intend to offer it," she said dryly. "But perhaps you should reconsider the manner in which you attempt to reassure those you assault."
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He continued dragging her off to the alleyway alongside the building, finally forcing her against the wall. He leaned in close to her and seemed to be... was he really smelling her?
"You have the scent of no woman I've experienced before," he muttered, close to her ear.
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