The dead little girl glared at the stranger. “Just leave me alone, okay? You were the one following me…and I’m just…twitchy with that kind of stuff.”
"Oh dear. That went right over your head. See — what I’m implying here, is that I want to hurt you."
Taking the tube to observe it, she opened to reveal the deep red color. “Oh! Yes! God, you’re a life saver, darling! How can I ever repay you?”
As the blonde takes the object from her, an expression of interest finds it’s way to Alyssandra’s face. She smiles kindly, before it quickly fades and she clears her throat, glancing at the dancers in the distance, “Just a drink or two would do.”
"I don’t know—I don’t know you. You could be one. I don’t judge on exterior appearances."
"Damn you and your good instincts." She makes a face, "Oh. I’ve given myself away. Now’s about the time you start running.”
“I am your Queen. Your rightful one. The one this kingdom deserves. I am the rightful heir to the throne, the unwanted child. There is nothing that keeps you from burying your new blade in my throat. There is no one to stop you. Nothing to stop you from returning to a victory march in your name, my subjects, my people, unwilling to look you in the eye as they go about festivities. Festivities that they will lament. Regret. They will riot. Try to overthrow the Queen. Innocent blood will be spilled over myself. A fate I do not wish upon anyone, much less my subjects. Mine, not hers. Their loyalty lies with me and as should yours.” An angled chin juts up in the air, eyes alight with a fire, lips as red as blood pulling tight as she looked the huntress right in her eyes, savoring that calculating look.
“You are no coward. You are a strong, loyal huntress, who has followed every order dutifully. I plea of you, follow my orders and you shall no longer have to follow anymore once the Queen is dead.” Hand trembling slightly reaches, catching the arm that held the dagger to her neck. A hefty swallow followed soon. Fingers, not covered by a glove wrapped around the band on the huntresses arm, eyes strong willed traveling up to catch hers again. “Ensure my victory, my steady hand and I can ensure you a place in my court. In my heart. By my side.”
The breath in her lungs dwindles and causes her pallid cheeks to flush in the silence as she observes the huntress closely. Sunshine’s hand, wrapped around Alyssandra’s wrist, drops and eyes close, a breathless sigh leaving her lips. Her posture slacks, pressing the knife into her throat, a tiny droplet of blood covering the beautiful metal, smearing across her neck.
“If you wish my death and the love of the Queen, then so be it. Make my death hasty.”
As the princess spoke, the huntress stayed still and listened, albeit her want and need to do the contrary. The queen’s orders drifted in and out of her thoughts, an incessant calling. It was annoying really, to be so obedient. Sometimes she hated it, but there was no denying she enjoyed the safety this strange queen surrounded her with — even if the excessive affection was a little weird. Still, she pushed all thought aside and opened her mind to the royalty beneath a calloused and strengthened grip. Locks of hair fell past her shoulders and some of it blew into her face as the winds around them picked up speed, as though the god’s were keeping a close eye on the two.
"Overthrow her? You speak of impossibilities." Her eyes widened and she shook her head, expression firmly relaying her intention, "Our queen — your.. mother.. has a strong hold on this kingdom." In truth, she did not, but it felt wrong to not at least defend the woman’s honor that this girl had so easily shot down. The compliments that drifted out afterwards, confused her and her body language betrayed her in their giving away how these words truly made her feel.
Lips pursed and she pressed the metal. Strings of curses flew from her lips and she violently shook, but not before she swung her arm and let go of the dagger she’d held so tightly in between caramel fingers. With a loud SHING the dagger had caught and dug itself into a nearby tree. Running her hands through her hair, she turned away and a look of anguish passed over her features. She felt as though the reaction in itself was contempt and there was no way she’d make it out of this alive.
"I suppose you could say that…just don’t like being followed. Bad things tend to happen to me when I’m followed."
"Well sheesh. Do I look like a predator to you? I feel as though I convey the mere definition of innocence.” The elf is playing it up hard, but that’s thankfully not obvious because this girl has no idea who she is. No one does.
"Uhm, I think so…do you see a tube of lipstick on the floor? I think someone may have kicked it when it fell."
"I actually found one just over there," she reveals a small cylinder between nimble fingers, "Is there a chance this is yours?"
A—-nd she’s returning the favour of breaking and entering
by allowing herself access to the elf’s confectionery stash?
“Alyssandra, do you have any blood bags by chance?”
It’s a long shot, she knows, but here’s to being hopeful?
The elf nearly chokes on the cupcake she was shoving into her mouth at the sudden shrill and very familiar sound of the vampire’s voice. She clears her throat, wipes her mouth and struggles to gain her barrings as she rests her hands on the counter in front of her and coughs, slightly annoyed. She supposes she deserves it after breaking in to the blonde’s comfortable abode so long ago. It is by sheer luck she recently comitted heinous crimes beneath her basement, so the answer is surprisingly, “I do.”
faceclaim wishlist of those I’d like to interact with Alyssandra has been updated here.
"I don’t know why you’re following me but you can kindly fuck off—"
"Feisty now, aren’t you?"
It’s not every day that the Doctor feels it’s necessary to wander far from the TARDIS. But tonight, the avidity for human
bloodis undeniable. These days, he’s been a very detrimental man — and he’s basking in the glory of it all. You see, it’s mere desire that plucked him from his place amongst the time machine, but it was curiousity that hauled him to the unfamiliar door veiling delightful screams. As faint as they are, he catches onto them quickly and smiles at the possibilities. So many things have changed: frightened whimpers and screams have transformed into music to his ears.
A deft hand reaches out to knock once, twice, thrice on the door before him, eyes narrowed as he awaits the screaming to stop, even for a moment. Surely, someone has to greet him at the door. He grins at the thought of the person inside rushing to compose themselves.
The growing impatience that has been today’s trigger is inherently engraved into the creature’s veins. This victim is hardly willing to comply, though the screams that emanate from them are all too pleasing. Coursing along side that is the adrenaline that torturing another precious victim brings. This has become the daily routine and the brown eyed, brown haired figure contriving the utmost evil is not out of the ordinary. There’s a whimper as Alyssandra lift’s the weapon in her hand and presses it’s cool metal against her prey’s abdomen. The poor thing sucks in a breath of air, eyes showcasing nothing but fear.
And that’s when she’s interrupted. The sound of a knock, although it’s above ground, reaches her ears and she growls in annoyance. Although, the thought of torturing two people at once is delightful. She smiles, sticks the weapon into one of the fresher wounds and pivots, heels clacking as blood drips from her fingers and onto the basement floor. She heads for the stairs, travels through the kitchen and swings open the door to her in-home bakery, not even bothering to clean herself up as the other so imagined.
"Do share the reasoning for your interrupting my games." The elf didn’t sound happy and didn’t look happy either. Being covered in blood was not the b e s t way to answer the door, but what did she care?