𝖆𝖟𝖗𝖆𝖊𝖑 | AZRAEL (
vampirique) wrote in
exsiliumlogs2012-11-26 06:20 pm
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Entry tags:
were u still interested in a biscuit
Date & Time: Nov. 26, 3312, Evening.
Location: A few blocks 'round the Hold, out on the COLD DEAD STREETS.
Characters: Azrael (
vampirique) & Koltira Deathweaver (
deadelfwalking)
Summary: Azrael is prowling around looking for some tasty nom noms, Koltira finds himand they abscond into the night and justifiably inquisitions him.
Warnings: Nothing to start, but IT'S A DEAD MAN'S PARTY, so who knows.
It was cold and it was wet outside, though Azrael only noticed one of those things as he stepped out of the lobby of the housing building. With his hair tied back and sitting at the base of his neck in an inoffensive manner and his clothes adventure-appropriate, he began to stalk the streets with ease. It wasn't stalking, really; not in the standard vampiric definition--really he was strolling quietly more than anything, quietly surveying his surroundings as he did.
It seemed relatively quiet outside; something he attributed to the freezing temperatures of the evening, growing only colder as the night wore on. Soon, however, he'd caught sight of someone--a citizen, most likely, not a Transport. That was perfect. It did not take him long to follow them into an alley (why did they always make it easy?), stopping them with a gentle grasp on their shoulder.
In seconds, Azrael had moved them up against the brick of the old building. Pinned them, his mouth mere inches from their neck, a satisfied grin on his face that he could do nothing to wipe away. It was too cold outside for Transports and humans to want to wander about, right? Other than this person, of course. This could only go smoothly.
Location: A few blocks 'round the Hold, out on the COLD DEAD STREETS.
Characters: Azrael (
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Summary: Azrael is prowling around looking for some tasty nom noms, Koltira finds him
Warnings: Nothing to start, but IT'S A DEAD MAN'S PARTY, so who knows.
It was cold and it was wet outside, though Azrael only noticed one of those things as he stepped out of the lobby of the housing building. With his hair tied back and sitting at the base of his neck in an inoffensive manner and his clothes adventure-appropriate, he began to stalk the streets with ease. It wasn't stalking, really; not in the standard vampiric definition--really he was strolling quietly more than anything, quietly surveying his surroundings as he did.
It seemed relatively quiet outside; something he attributed to the freezing temperatures of the evening, growing only colder as the night wore on. Soon, however, he'd caught sight of someone--a citizen, most likely, not a Transport. That was perfect. It did not take him long to follow them into an alley (why did they always make it easy?), stopping them with a gentle grasp on their shoulder.
In seconds, Azrael had moved them up against the brick of the old building. Pinned them, his mouth mere inches from their neck, a satisfied grin on his face that he could do nothing to wipe away. It was too cold outside for Transports and humans to want to wander about, right? Other than this person, of course. This could only go smoothly.
no subject
He watched for them all as he walked down street after street, looking into countless empty alleys, abandoned buildings, and ruined, eerily silent lots. Most of the time, his searches revealed nothing more than rubble and dust; scraps of decayed clothing; glass fragments; and occasionally skeletons, both human and otherwise.
But not always. Sometimes, Koltira caught something, and when he saw a fanged stranger about to sink his teeth into some random civilian's throat, he was glad he didn't skip this particular alley.
Hissing as a small, sharp jolt of pain shot through him--they were becoming more frequent and intense, recently--Koltira swiftly closed the distance between himself, this man, and the victim.
"Pardon," he growled through gritted teeth. The runes on Byfrost flared to life, anticipating battle, thirsty for blood. The runeblade's ink-black aura swirled around it like a living, excitable thing, emanating unholy power as it constricted and expanded of, seemingly, its own accord. "But I think you ought to step back."
no subject
He looked--bothered, interrupted, but not aggressive--not yet. "Does it matter to you?" he asked. His tone was one of both skepticism and genuine curiosity, as he'd stopped to take in this man's features. He was not unlike a vampire himself in his pale pallor; death radiated from him in unusual scents and waves that caught Azrael's attention immediately.
no subject