✿6 [Accidental Voice / Action]

[redstringed]

[Voice]

*The journal starts picking up the sounds of a fight in progress, as if someone had dropped their journal accidentally.*  Noel, get back!

*Then, odd whooshes of air and the sound of metal striking metal - but they're interrupted by a crack of thunder. There's silence for a few moments, and then a second, louder clap of thunder, followed shortly by the sound of furniture breaking and another voice - some might recognize it as Noel Vermillion - shouting.*  Rachel! Ahh...

*Silence, interrupted only by the sound of metal footsteps. But then the first voice speaks again, though it seems slightly weaker.* You dare...?! Do... not turn your backs... on me...!

Baden Baden Lil--

*The speaker is suddenly cut off, and the journal is splattered by little crimson droplets, as though someone was writing in it. There's a thump and the sound of something - or someone - being dragged away, and then silence. The feed cuts out.*

[Action]

*Where are you? What are you doing? It doesn't matter, because there's a young girl dressed in a frilly gothic lolita dress teleporting near to you with a shower of roses. She looks rather beaten-up, and is clutching a bleeding wound at her stomach.

Needless to say, Rachel does not look happy. This wasn't where she wanted to end up.*

***

((OOC: So, Rachel tried to get some revenge on the Malnosso by attacking the droids coming to kidnap Noel. She failed spectacularly. So she's wounded, unable to focus on her teleportation, and she's taken a heavy blow to her pride. This won't end well.))

Comments

[redstringed]

*She shifts uncomfortably in the seat.* It is. ...they were able to reflect my weaker attacks, and my strongest spell one was ... interrupted. *She glances down at her stab wound.*

[consultmybooks]

Yes, well.

If it were easy, everyone would have done it.

[He glances at the stab wound, as well - he'd ask if she's all right, but he's pretty sure what the answer would be]

...can I get you some tea?

[redstringed]

...please. I am... quite thirsty.

[consultmybooks]

[And Giles is off into the kitchen. Rachel can hear him rummaging around, the sound of water being carefully poured and set on the stove. Giles stays in the kitchen to wait for it to boil, however]

[redstringed]

*And when he's gone, she'll let out a stiff breath she'd been holding in pain. Good lord, this hurts.*

[consultmybooks]

[Giles is very careful about making up the tea, and after a while he comes back out with a mug, which he'll carefully pass over to Rachel]

[redstringed]

*She takes it, not quite looking up at him.* ...it is appreciated.

[consultmybooks]

Happy to help. [Except...now he's really worried, Rachel. You just said something directly nice.] Look, if you're not at the risk of dying in the next five minutes, I can see about getting a hold of someone from the clinic.

[redstringed]

*It was, and she knows it. She'll have to make it up with extra nastiness later.* Mr. Watcher, would something like this be sufficient to... kill a vampire where you are from?

I shall heal... on my own.

[consultmybooks]

Depends. How close did they get to your heart?

[But no, Spike eventually healed from that church fire. Rachel will heal, he knows as much, it's just...

damn it, there's no fun sniping at her when she's hurt.]

[redstringed]

*She gives him a Look. It's a stomach wound.* My heart is in the same place yours is. Does it look close?

[consultmybooks]

You're a vampire that shoots lightning, can teleport, and doesn't inhabit the dead body of a human. How am I supposed to know where your heart is?

Decapitation, a stake through the heart, holy water, or sunlight. That's what kills a vampire from Sunnydale.

[redstringed]

And yet, that... has nothing to do with any of my organs. *She takes a sip.* Being stabbed through the heart and a decapitation would kill most anything.

[consultmybooks]

No, it usually has to be something specifically wooden. Piercing the heart with wood. Plenty of mythological basis why, but I'm just glad it works.

And I'd beg to differ on the subject of decapitation. The Deathwok Clan can survive it, provided that their bodies aren't mutilated. You never know, with some demons.

Besides, I've learned not to assume anything with you.

[redstringed]

That is why I said "most," not "all."

...I... find direct sunlight irritating, but it will not kill me.

[consultmybooks]

Yes, and I've found that "most" generally gets lost in translation to include "all". Too many people take it as norm right up until you find the exception. Sometimes that's necessary. Sometimes it isn't.

...your parasol certainly looks durable enough.

[redstringed]

It is. But I am capable of going without it. It is a bother, nothing more.

[consultmybooks]

So we're still not likely to see you out and about in the daylight, then?

[redstringed]

It is not unheard of. I do prefer the light of the moon, however.

[consultmybooks]

Yes. I'm a bit of a night owl, myself. Mostly by habit.

[redstringed]

And I would imagine your vocation would require... late hours, as well.

[consultmybooks]

It does, yes. The vampires we have back home are traditionally active at night, but most other demons seem to prefer it as well.

[redstringed]

Naturally. What better time to catch one's prey unawares?

[consultmybooks]

Granted, Sunnydale is particularly easy pickings at the best of times.

[redstringed]

Oh?

I have learned to never underestimate the stupidity of humans. *She takes a sip, and winces again*