entrancelogs | [EVENT/CLOSED] What a glorious feeling;

Entry tags:

[EVENT/CLOSED] What a glorious feeling;

Who: Angel/Angelus, Cordelia Chase, Buffy Summers, Adam Milligan, Meg Masters, Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore, Ellen Harvelle, & H.G. Wells
Where: All over the mansion, as well as the grounds after nightfall.
When: October 30th - November 2nd
Rating: R for violence, death and possible torture.
Summary: Angel's mirror is in the driver's seat for the last few days of the event, meaning that Angelus himself has run of the mansion. Anyone looking to write him off or underestimate him as a common vampire is in for one hell of a surprise.
The Story:

God, this place was so much better than where the Mirrors were usually stuck. Full to the eaves with what amounted to walking Happy Meals, and the way he'd heard it? Death wasn't permanent. If you liked someone enough, you could wait around for a few days and help yourself to seconds. Now that was some pretty impeccable service.

Of course, to be on this side in the first place, he was stuck in his Real's body, but that wasn't all that different from the usual state of affairs. It was strongly reminiscent of the days before Wonderland, except this time, that pesky soul wasn't doing anything to hold him back. It had taken a day or two, but Angelus had managed to overpower the safety that had been put in place by that curse all those years ago, and the sheer feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction was just exhilarating.

Bedrooms, of course, were off-limits. He couldn't cross the threshold without an invitation, but the rest of the mansion? Oh, everything else was fair game. The ballroom, the kitchen, the library, the clinic-- though currently he was making his way along the main corridor that housed the tearooms, singing to himself as he went from door to door, kicking them in forcefully at each stop. He could smell someone hiding down here. He would find them. It was only a matter of when.

"Singin' in the rain-- Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Bang. Another door kicked open hard enough to smack against the wall behind it. "Just singin' in the rain, what a glorious feeling, I'm happy again--"

Bang, bang. "I'm laughin' at clouds, so dark up above, the sun's in my heart, and I'm ready for love--"

He stopped short after kicking in another door and smiled to himself, letting out a low whistle as he looked down the length of the corridor. "Only so many holes for the mice to hide in around here. Be coy all you want. It just means you'll taste better when I get there."

He always loved it when they ran, anyway. Fear and adrenaline only made them taste sweeter.

[[OOC: Wherever and whenever you want Angelus to stumble upon your character, there he'll be. Replies will come from onehappyfella. Action or prose is fine, I'll gladly match you!]]

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He caught her scent before he spotted her, stopped short and smiled to himself as he tilted his head upwards and gave the air another experimental sniff.

"I can smell you, sweetheart," he called out into the dim corridor, singing and kicking in doors now forgotten as he shifted his attention and slowly began to move in her direction, cautious and deliberate. "And I can hear you breathing, too. Don't be shy. Come on out and say hello."

Or he'll come to find you himself.

She doesn't have silver on her. But she still has her holy salt water, and a few other things. And she has her machete. She's not helpless. Her hand drops down to grip her gun. Slowly, she pulls the hammer back. Her ammo is running short, but she's doing okay. She'll be fine.

Ellen fully believes this about herself. A deep breath and then she takes a step out of the shadows. Her gun is pointed down, but that can change very very quickly.

"Haven't ever been accused of being shy. sweetheart."

He smiles broadly when she steps out and reveals herself, letting out a low wolf-whistle of appreciation. Oh, this one was feisty. Those were his favorites. He loved his meals to have a little spark. And this one? This one happened to be well-armed.

She wasn't a Slayer. He could feel that from here. Even if she was the kind of woman who could hold her own in a fight, he wasn't terribly worried. Perhaps it was overconfidence -- or maybe it was just centuries of besting every human hunter that ever came after him that made him bold.

"Well, hey there, little lady. Aren't you a dish." He raises both eyebrows, giving her a once-over before fixing his gaze on her gun, biting at his lower lip to stifle a laugh. Bee stings, if she shot him. "Itchy trigger finger?"

Her instincts are telling her to get the hell out, to not poke the damned bear. But she's going to, because this can't be as bad as what's happened so far. She's stood against Satan, and dammit, that counts for something.

"Something like that." She doesn't mind shooting things, even if it doesn't do much more than hurt like a bitch. Because then? She's got the advantage.

"You lookin' for something in particular?" Or someone? She isn't sure, but this guy ain't human.

She'd bet three months of dusting on it. And she fucking hates dusting.

"Just a little company."

The smile he flashes is open, warm, but almost too nice, to close to genuinely charming. It matches the playful lilt of his voice, but neither goes with the gleam in his eye, the one that promises pain and violence and a million dark thoughts to be entertained the moment he gets his hands on someone.

"I've been lonely on the other side of the glass for awhile now. Been a long time since anyone's thought to spare Angelus a glance. Hurts, you know. I've got feelings, too."

She tenses. Ellen doesn't like charming people. Gordon had been charming once. He'd also almost gotten Jo and the boys killed at different times.

Then again, Bill had been... she's not thinking about that now. She takes a step back, wondering just what she's gotten herself into. She Really does not need trouble now. She wants to get the hell out of here.

"Maybe you should take that up with someone else. Got my own troubles." Because while she tries to be friendly, sometimes, she just doesn't quite make it.

"Why take it up with someone else when you're right here?"

He's all for convenience. Having to chase his food for too long makes it all tough and gamey. She's already standing in front of him, with that promising spark he likes so much.

"Besides. You've got spunk. I like that." His smile hitches wider as he takes two steps closer, hands steepled in front of him. "That's hard to find these days."

She's done a lot of running in her life. Sometimes, being bait is necessary, despite what she told Jo. She doesn't want her baby with half the scars she has just because there's no other choice.

Ellen swallows and takes a step back. She isn't sure what this guy is, but 'human' isn't one of them.

Her gun is up, and she still has her machete. She can use the gun one handed. She's still using salt-rounds, because those aren't killing anyone and she's a bit opposed to that, normally.

"Don't give a damn what you like. I'll just leave you to your seeking." Another couple of steps back.

He matches her steps back with another two steps forward. Calm, almost languid, too relaxed about whatever comes next. A human outrunning him is laughable. Even the Slayer never managed it for long. All he needs to do is take the gloves off, so to speak, and strike-- but he's taking his time. He's always put a lot of stock into anticipation.

"You're just going to run off on me?" He clucks his tongue softly, shaking his head. "I don't think so, sweetheart. Come on." He grins broadly and his face begins to shift, showing fangs.

"Give us a kiss."

And that would be what she is waiting for. Ellen isn't an idiot. Instead, she fires a shot that goes way wide, because she's turning to run. Ellen doesn't look over her shoulder, just makes a break for it and tries not to get caught.

This is going to hurt like a bitch, eventually. She's getting too damned old to run from beasts and monsters. (Anyone ever says that, and she'll make sure they regret it.)

Careening around a corner, she dares a glance back and curses. Of course he's faster than a human. Of course.

It doesn't hit him directly, but it grazes -- just enough to draw blood at the shoulder, but not enough to slow him down. He takes off at a run after her without further hesitation, letting out a snarl that sounds much more animal than anything else.

"That stings! You like to play hard to get, huh?"

Dammit. That had not been her plan. Maybe if she shot him in the head? That works on most things. Except, she's tired. She's had it with this damned bullshit.

Give her something easy any day of the week.

Careening around another corner, she reaches into her pocket and grabs for the cross that isn't there. Damn. The one time she's without her rosary. Sighing, she starts running again. There's got to be a way to...

Ellen trips over a damned root. Shit. This is not going well.

It gives him just the chance he needs.

He lunges for her, grabbing her by the back of her collar and dragging her to her feet, shoving her back against the wall and leaning in close to press his nose against the side of her neck, breathing heavily despite the fact that he has no need to. It's excitement, not exhaustion, and his breath comes warm and slightly stale, coppery. He's fed already. He's in no hurry.

He inhales slowly before lifting his head, grinning as he leans in way too close for comfort. For now, he's made no move to harm her, only hold her there-- but there's still time.

"That smell never gets old. Ripe. Comfort food."

That slam into the wall takes her breath for a moment, but she's never been one to stay down, even if she can't breathe. Her knife is in her hand and she stabs him, because why the hell not and tries to kick him to get the hell away from him.

Ellen isn't anything's food. She's proven that more times than she cares to remember. She really doesn't want to think about it.

"Find somethin' else to eat, you fanged bastard."

It's not enough to stop him permanently, but it still hurts like a bitch, forcing him to reel backwards and have to put in effort to right himself, regain his composure. He snarls, clapping a hand over the stab wound to cover it. He bleeds like a human, but it won't slow him down for long.

"Then you'd better hope you can outrun me."

Ellen is tired of running. She's tired of trying to find her way out of another bad situation. Her hand still grips the knife, and her fingers grope in her pocket for the bottle of holy water.

Not there. Dammit.

She pulls her machete into her other hand. She doesn't need to run.

"Think you're the first vampire to threaten me? Kid, you're not even the prettiest." Because taunting a vampire is a good idea. Sigh.

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[EVENT/CLOSED] What a glorious feeling;

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I'm sorry, I promise these will come faster from here on out, I'm back from hiatusy things now.

Pfft, yes, because I'm the fastest :P

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