Natalie Waters (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spitefulvitae) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-08-21 12:31 am
spitefulvitae) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-08-21 12:31 am
Entry tags:
06 - Welcome Home, Honey
[919 Bilko, Morning - Limited to Housemates]
[Another beautiful Mayfield morning dawns, but all is not well in the Goodman household. That pleasant drone wife has been replaced with someone far stiffer, deader, and somewhat mildewed-smelling. That alone might be bad enough. But she had been quite silent while things were dark. Now that there's sun, there's screaming.
As soon as the first sufficiently brilliant rays of light come pouring into the room, Natalie bursts from her spot on the bed with an inhuman shriek. She tears the blankets off the bed and wraps them around herself, but it's not nearly enough protection against the light. She can't see, with all of the brightness and all of the fabric covering her... it's making her efforts to find some sort of cover far too slow. A hand has crept out from the covers, and it's fumbling at the doorknob for the closet... it's also sizzling.]
OhgodohgodthesunnotthesunohfatherpleasenonotthesunfatherhelpmenoNONONOnonono...
[Around Town, Evening]
[It's a warm late-summer evening. A perfect time for light blouses and short sleeves. To hell with that, tonight. Not after the kind of morning Natalie had been through. Every inch of her is covered by clothing. Long sleeves cover her arms. Gloves cover her fingers. Her usual scarf is wrapped very, very high along her face. And her hair is even pulled forward to obscure her face even further, with just a slit left to allow for vision.
Really, the malfunctioning drones are a mercy, tonight. She needs blood, and lots of it, if she's going to be presentable anytime soon. Were you being annoyed by a particularly persistent drone asking the time or wishing you a good evening?]
...oh. Here. Let me take care of that...
[And she'll just be grabbing them, exposing their neck, and sinking her fangs in. Masquerade, shmasquerade. What was there to cover up, here? She was doing everyone a favor, honestly.]
[Another beautiful Mayfield morning dawns, but all is not well in the Goodman household. That pleasant drone wife has been replaced with someone far stiffer, deader, and somewhat mildewed-smelling. That alone might be bad enough. But she had been quite silent while things were dark. Now that there's sun, there's screaming.
As soon as the first sufficiently brilliant rays of light come pouring into the room, Natalie bursts from her spot on the bed with an inhuman shriek. She tears the blankets off the bed and wraps them around herself, but it's not nearly enough protection against the light. She can't see, with all of the brightness and all of the fabric covering her... it's making her efforts to find some sort of cover far too slow. A hand has crept out from the covers, and it's fumbling at the doorknob for the closet... it's also sizzling.]
OhgodohgodthesunnotthesunohfatherpleasenonotthesunfatherhelpmenoNONONOnonono...
[Around Town, Evening]
[It's a warm late-summer evening. A perfect time for light blouses and short sleeves. To hell with that, tonight. Not after the kind of morning Natalie had been through. Every inch of her is covered by clothing. Long sleeves cover her arms. Gloves cover her fingers. Her usual scarf is wrapped very, very high along her face. And her hair is even pulled forward to obscure her face even further, with just a slit left to allow for vision.
Really, the malfunctioning drones are a mercy, tonight. She needs blood, and lots of it, if she's going to be presentable anytime soon. Were you being annoyed by a particularly persistent drone asking the time or wishing you a good evening?]
...oh. Here. Let me take care of that...
[And she'll just be grabbing them, exposing their neck, and sinking her fangs in. Masquerade, shmasquerade. What was there to cover up, here? She was doing everyone a favor, honestly.]
no subject
[She tilts her head and stares at Cain, eager to see his reaction. Would it drive him away?]
What did you think it would be like?
[...what HAD the boy thought he was in for?]
no subject
Painful... I didn't think there would be that--
[Loss of control, the feeling of bliss. That had unnerved him much more than the action of taking the blood.]
no subject
[Natalie wraps her scarf back around the lower part of her face, but her eyes remain fixed on him. Surely there's more to it than pain?]
no subject
[Bliss. As though he had no control in how he felt any more, no free will to stop her if he'd wanted to.]
no subject
Maybe it's not common of vampires in general. It's common with my kind. Who's to say? I'm hardly about to go take a survey.
[A little tucking and tying, and she's satisfied with the security of her scarf. She's about to start away, but still watching Cain curiously.]
...thank you for the blood.
no subject
[He's rapidly recovering his usual polite warmth, the mask of calm and smiles that covers everything.]
I hope it will help sustain you for some time.
no subject
I've already benefited greatly from your gift.
[And if there was no more to be said, she would turn and go.]