[EVENT/CLOSED] What a glorious feeling;

[vampdetective]

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!]]

Comments

[unregenerate]

Being well versed in the art of playing with one's prey, she stays right where she is, rolling her eyes for show. In her experience, the ones who get off on toying with others can be the most dangerous.

"Wanna play twenty questions? Maybe paint each other's nails a cute pink?" It's easy to keep up the banter. It's mostly to be a distraction, giving her time to figure out a way to get out of this nastiness before it starts.

There's a part of her, though, that craves it. The violence of what could happen is something she's been missing since she's started straddling the line between good and not-so-good. Whether she's the one giving or receiving it, she doesn't care. There's a hollow part inside her that needs it to feel whole, a nice left over from her years in Hell.

[onehappyfella]

"I was thinking more like we could pick out a nice pair of thumb screws together. Not too soon in the relationship, is it?" That fanged smile makes an appearance again, hungry and full of any number of dark promises. He loves to talk. Loves the sound of his own voice, loves to see his victims' reactions when he makes threats, but unlike most self-proclaimed villains who love to monologue and posture themselves, Angelus has always been one to follow through.

Empty promises are a waste of breath, even for those who have no need of it.

"Tell me, kitten. You a screamer?"

[unregenerate]

Shaking her head, she gives him a smile that's borderline mischievous. "Why spoil the surprise?"

It's easy to fall back into this game, the back and forth of false upbeat tones with the threat lying just under the surface. He's an unknown, unpredictable, and while it doesn't exactly bode well for her it keeps her there, interested to see how far it'll go.

"Unless you're just being a tease," she drawls, taking a step closer to him in challenge. A part of her wants him to take it, win or lose it doesn't matter to her. Another part warns her, very faintly, that she might be biting more than she can chew, but like usual she ignores that little voice. "So many men are these days."

[onehappyfella]

"One thing I can promise you is that I don't tease."

Another step forward, and suddenly there's no space left between them. Nowhere else to go but back, and no more time to play the baiting game. He grins as he takes her by her shoulders, leaning in to whisper and let his fangs brush against the cuff of her ear.

"If you're going to make me chase you for it, now's a good time to run. Otherwise? Let's go for a ride."

[unregenerate]

There's an instinctual urge to step back, but she fights it. She's the one who keeps challenging him, to show her what he's got. Meg usually takes things as they come to her, no pre-planning needed. Right now is no exception.

"Bring it on, baby." And without waiting for him to respond, she reaches up to grasp his chin, pulling him down for a deep kiss. It's a challenge, a show of dominance even, and to prove to him that he isn't scaring her.

Fear is something she hasn't truly felt in a long time. Irritation, frustration and pain, yes, but true fear? That was scooped right out of her soul once she was in Hell. It doesn't do to have demons shaking and crying in the face of a fight, does it?

[onehappyfella]

One challenge after another. Oh, she was a fun one. All the makings of a muse, the right amount of fire and spunk with just the tiniest but oh-so-fragrant undercurrent of fear, teasing his senses and promising all sorts of things that he'd been denied for what seemed like ages.

And here he thought Christmas was still a couple of months away.

He takes her face in his hands as he returns the kiss, not about to let even that particular act take him by surprising, his thumb pressing against her cheek in a way that was reminiscent of how he had once marked his victims, though his nails alone were not enough to carve flesh, however claw-like they were. He settles for biting down on her lower lip, enough to pierce it with his fangs before releasing, tongue darting between her lips to catch the sweet, copper taste of blood.

So much stronger than what he would have gotten from an ordinary human.

He breaks the kiss without releasing her, staying close, menacing. "Talk about a delicacy."

[unregenerate]

When his teeth pierce the skin of her lip, she inhales sharply. Not because it hurts, oh no. Pain is pleasure to demons, and right now is no exception. She might not know the full extent of his strength or power, but despite that she's still going to enjoy herself. Returning the kiss is a way to lose herself to that madness, and in some ways it's a fight, to show she isn't scared and won't back down.

When he pulls away, she reaches up to wipe some of the blood off her lip with her thumb, watching him as she does so. Her strategy hasn't worked out so well for her, but this is a much more fun game to play in her mind.

"Bet you say that to all the girls," she replies, practically purring. If he's looking for her to cower or beg for mercy, he'll be sorely disappointed. Even if she feels like, just maybe, she's gonna lose this one her ego and confidence refuse to let her be anything other than teasing or taunting.