✿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

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

[GAH Rachel you kill him. Really.]

YES. Yes. Their disapproval is not something I want, because it means I have to accept certain situations that I don't approve of. I get to be the disapproving one. ME. No one else.

[Xander's family has always disappointed him. He holds his friends, therefore, on a much higher level. And therefore they have further to fall.]

[redstringed]

*They see me trollan, they hatin'.*

Hm. Then whether or not you consider yourself a hypocrite means little as long as they do not know. Correct?

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

I never said that!

[redstringed]

That's true, you did not. I inferred it.

You don't seem to have much trouble with the concept of rendering aid to one who you know is a vampire.

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

Okay-okay, what should I have done, thrown you out? Besides, you're different from the vampires I know.

[redstringed]

I did not require aid. You gave it willingly.

*A pause.* It's true. I am not like those mongrels you call vampires. You rationalize this yourself, but believe your friends incapable of doing the same.

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

You don't know anything about ME, or about my FRIENDS.

[redstringed]

I know what you have told me. Do you expect omniscience?

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

 

[redstringed]

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

Can we stop talking about this now?

[redstringed]

Hm. As you wish.

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

Hey, HERE'S a topic: why do you look about five years old? Is that how old you were when you got turned?

[Yes, he's rather maliciously exaggerating about her looks here.]

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*This look.

Forever.*

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

What?!

[redstringed]

I was not turned. And I do not look five years old.

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the most I'm going to give you? Is fifteen. And that's only if you take your hair out of those things.

[Joking aside, he's peering at her intently, wondering just how well this healing is going.]

[redstringed]

*Stiiiiiiill hurts like a bitch. But that doesn't make her any less glare-ful.* Is there something wrong with my ribbons? I quite like them.

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

No, no--they're really cute, kiddo. What else can I bring you?

[redstringed]

*Just this look.* Nothing. I am in no need of any assistance, least of all yours.

And I was never turned.

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

Well that's funny--I must have just dreamed up the fact that you were not long ago staggering through my kitchen bleeding all over my waffles. [He makes himself comfortable on the floor beside her.]

My poor, all burned to heck waffles.

[redstringed]

Unlike most people, I have some semblance of fortitude. *Just don't mention her tendency to fall asleep.*

...if you wish to go make more, I shan't stop you.

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

No, I'm pretty sure the universe doesn't want me to have waffles today.

....I've got fortitude.

[redstringed]

I am capable enough to move under my own power not half an hour after being what would have been gravely wounded - for a human. Can you say the same?

Go, make your silly waffles.

[steadfastest.livejournal.com]

[He turns slightly pale at this, but gets up and heads for the kitchen at her bidding. He stops, though, before leaving the room. Something Andrew has let slip about the loss of his eye.] Well, some of us go into danger and get gravely wounded without that privilege. Stay as long as you need to, Rach.