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 | | From: | stormaf | | Subject: | Winter Celebrations - LTMB thread 2 - Predator | | Date: | 30 Dec 2004 15:03:45 -0800 |
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 | (OOC: This thread will be twining with 'College/Mage in a Minor Key')
Robin reported to the merchant who'd hired him to play in the
afternoon, luther in hand, Figment curled around his neck. The
merchant had apparently joined with several others, all of them had
contrived to set their stalls up and cover them with fabric tenting,
creating what amounted to a sheltered square. Given the weather, it
would probably turn out to be a terrific idea; there were several
stalls selling hot food and drinks within the shelter encouraging
celebrants to sit out of the cold to enjoy their meals, then wander
through the other stalls before braving the snow again. Robin appeared
to be the only musician within the shelter; the merchant had set him
up a tiny stage just off the stall selling cider rather than wanting
him to wander around.
He hoped Astarte would be able to find the things she was after right
within the shelter; that would certainly make things much more
pleasant for them all around. He had only one thing he wanted from the
market; the man who'd hired him sold cloaks, and he wanted a showy one
for occasions exactly like this. Presentation was everything, he
reflected with an inner grin. His fee for the afternoon was one cloak
- his pick of the merchant's stock.
His stage was close enough to the entrance to see the hubbub that was
going on just outside in an alley and he watched as the blind fellow
started decrying a newcomer with a lovely girl. The formidable Sheriff
showed up - causing a nervous fumble on Robin's part, quickly
corrected as it appeared the Sheriff wasn't interested in him - then a
mage appeared, towing a crying child who had apparently relieved a few
people of their purses. He felt a brief pang of pity for the child -
he could feel the boy's terror from the stage, it was so strong.
The melodies he was playing were well-suited to keeping customers
amused and cheerful but took only a fraction of his attention; most of
his mind was watching the unfolding scene like everyone else.
Astarte materialised behind him, a parcel tucked under her arm.
"Just checking in," she said, when he glanced up. "I'm never to far
away." She was watching the group in the alley too.
"This looks like it could be entertaining. What's the dandy supposed
to be?"
Ajali felt eyes on him from across the alley. A small covered square
had been made by several merchants and a musician was entertaining
within. Behind the bard stood a woman with pointed ears, probably an
elf. He'd tasted elves before and found them quite acceptable. When
the crowd broke in that direction for a moment, he towed Carelya away
from the alley and into the open area. Others followed, including the
Taverishes and Nanny, never far from her charge at any time.
As if he had timed it, snow began to fall in the alley and Ajali
shivered in the cold. He would need to feed often in this climate.
Almost unconsciously, he started judging his distances to other people
and how fast he could sink his teeth into them. It was an effort to
rein in his instincts and he shuddered involuntarily.
"What is wrong?" she asked, "Are you cold again?"
"In a way," he said, "I need to feed."
Carelya was startled, "You don't mean have a sandwich, do you?"
Ajali gave her a sad look and shook his head, "No, unfortunately.
What I need is blood. Warm blood."
Carelya found curiosity warring with revulsion inside her. She leaned
close to him and he could feel her warmth and smell her life essence.
It had close to a ual effect on him and he struggled to control
himself.
"What is it like?" she asked.
"What is what like?" Ajali whispered hoarsely.
Carelya cast her eyes around at her family, all of them in
conversation with the sheriff and merchants, "Getting bitten by you."
"Oh. That. Well, it does hurt a bit," he told her, "But generally I
am very careful not to take more than is necessary."
Carelya was stronger than she looked. She pulled him to a secluded
spot behind the musician's podium. The man's little dragon trotted to
the edge of the small stage and watched them curiously. Ajali ignored
it. Dragons were only animals after all.
He wrenched his arm from her hands, "What are you doing?"
She yanked her scarf down, exposing her neck, "As long as there are no
consequences like me becoming a vampire too, do it now! Take some
quickly before they miss me."
Ajali tried to hide his surprise, unsuccessfully despite his long
practice, "I can't make you like me unless you drink my blood, which
of course I will not allow you to do. Are you sure of this?"
"As long as I'll be alright, go ahead," she smiled gamely, "I've roped
cattle, broken horses and worst of all, I've been to the Royal Court
Ball. This can't be worse than any of those things."
When Ajali checked how private the little curtained alcove was, he
couldn't help but notice how intent that small dragon seemed to be on
their conversation; almost as if it understood. As he watched the
creature, he allowed his thirst to rise and his eyes turned a gleaming
blood red. Carelya's eyes widened when he returned his lambent gaze
to her.
"You are still sure?" he moved close to her, but allowed her room to
escape if she really wanted to. He could still head for the seamier
side of town and take a streetwalker without anyone being aware of the
fact that he had left.
The pretty young woman nodded jerkily and looked away. Ajali moved in
and took her in his arms.
The first thing Carelya noticed was that Ajali was strong, very strong
and he held her up as if she were no more than a feather in his arms.
He put one hand to the small of her back to support her and cradled
her head with the other. Tipping her head just slightly more to the
left, he put his lips to her neck and softly kissed her.
She held onto him tightly and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to
come. This close to him, she expected a blood drinker to reek of old
blood, but he smelled of nothing more than soap and the different
natural perfume of a foreign man's skin.
Again his lips brushed her neck and he held her as close as a second
skin. When the pain came, it was as if she was making love for the
first time. Sensations heightened over her entire body and she felt
the vampire's heat. With some excitement, she realized that he was
feeling the same way; having the exact emotional and physical
responses to her as she was to him. Ajali sucked at the wound he had
made and she felt the drawing of her blood. She went limp in his arms
and he held her up.
Faster than she wished, he was finished and he licked her neck clean.
She felt only a lightheadedness as he drew back. He kept his grip
around her waist until she gained her feet. When she felt her neck,
she could discern two small raised holes that bled not at all. He
wiped his mouth carefully on the back of his hand, although there was
little or no blood there. He was a very clean feeder.
"Thank you," he cocked his head in a little bow to her.
"No," she breathed, "Thank you."
Nanny pushed into the alcove, "What are you doing here? Come out at
once! There'll be no taking advantage of my little lambie while I'm
alive."
Carelya had hastily wrapped her scarf back around her neck. Nanny
reached for her arm and dragged her out from behind the curtain.
Ajali followed hesitantly, wishing to protect his woman and
benefactor.
Nanny Wilsy's shaggy brows drew down as she tore the scarf away from
Carelya's neck, "Oh by the Lady's good name! He's bitten her!" She
ranted at Ajali, "Wicked, wicked thing!"
With the agility of his kind, Ajali ducked the purse as Nanny swung it
at him. The town guard moved in to pin his arms, but he wasn't there.
He had darted out of reach, but not far from Carelya.
The young girl shouted over the melee, "Leave him alone! I let him!"
She put herself in front of the vampire possessively.
"She's been bewitched," the blind carpenter saw his chance again,
"Darkwalkers do that, you know! She's been bedeviled! The Redeemer
only can save her now!"
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| | From: | Robin Banco | | Subject: | Re: Winter Celebrations - LTMB thread 2 - Predator | | Date: | Fri, 31 Dec 2004 09:08:55 GMT |
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| With the agility of his kind, Ajali ducked the purse as Nanny swung it
at him. The town guard moved in to pin his arms, but he wasn't there.
He had darted out of reach, but not far from Carelya.
The young girl shouted over the melee, "Leave him alone! I let him!"
She put herself in front of the vampire possessively.
"She's been bewitched," the blind carpenter saw his chance again,
"Darkwalkers do that, you know! She's been bedeviled! The Redeemer
only can save her now!"
"He's a what?" Robin asked Figment, startled at the report on what had been
happening behind him. "I thought vampires were myths."
:They are, Packhorse,: said Figment with a sigh. :Just like dragons and
unicorns, mages and telepaths.: While Robin contemplated that the dragon
continued, :Think the old firebrand there might be right?:
"Figment, I saw them go behind the stage. _She_ was towing _him_. Unless he
bites one of us I don't see that it's any of our business." He brought the
song to a close and added, "I think I'm about due for a ten-minute break and
since all the customers are watching what's going on out there, now's
probably a good time."
He leaned the luther against the stool he'd been sitting on and stepped off
the stage, intent on getting some tea to both warm his hands and soothe his
throat. His path took him directly past Mage Springer and the young thief
and even though their conversation was also none of his business, he paused.
~It's not like I'm prying into the kid's thoughts,~ he thought to himself.
~He's broadcasting almost loud enough to give me a headache.~
Aloud, he said, "His name is Vance, he's from some place named Bleckner and
he's mute." At Mage Springer's raised eyebrow, Robin added, "Sorry. I didn't
know if you were a telepath or not."
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