Loki (
doeswhathewants) wrote in
poly_chromatic2012-06-10 04:12 pm
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Entry tags:
First Prank: Grand Entrance
[A charming smile with wide and innocuous green eyes, though the glitter in them is something less than harmless and innocent. When he speaks, his voice is light and engaging. Ignore the fact that he’s soaking wet.]
Hello out there!
[The volume is a bit loud and he winces before catching it and allowing his features to adjust back into that beguiling smile. He fixes the volume, teeth catching his lower lip in an expression that really is innocent. His charm does not fade as he speaks again]
Let's try this again? Ah. Better. Now. It seems there has been a terrible mistake, a grave error, I am entirely unsure of where I am, only that I woke up here- yes! woke up!- after being dumped in a fountain and er- found this Stark phone on my person. .
Obviously, whoever has done this has the wrong person entirely. I am no one at all of consequence, a Parisian orphan.
[He frowns and the expression is solemn, pious]
Now, if you please, could someone tell me how far back to Paris?
[OoC Note: Serrure speaks in the All Tongue (he understands every language, anyone he speaks to will understand him) but he thinks he's speaking in French and will assume everyone else is, too.]
Hello out there!
[The volume is a bit loud and he winces before catching it and allowing his features to adjust back into that beguiling smile. He fixes the volume, teeth catching his lower lip in an expression that really is innocent. His charm does not fade as he speaks again]
Let's try this again? Ah. Better. Now. It seems there has been a terrible mistake, a grave error, I am entirely unsure of where I am, only that I woke up here- yes! woke up!- after being dumped in a fountain and er- found this Stark phone on my person. .
Obviously, whoever has done this has the wrong person entirely. I am no one at all of consequence, a Parisian orphan.
[He frowns and the expression is solemn, pious]
Now, if you please, could someone tell me how far back to Paris?
[OoC Note: Serrure speaks in the All Tongue (he understands every language, anyone he speaks to will understand him) but he thinks he's speaking in French and will assume everyone else is, too.]
Action!
[Instead, in a blurred movement, he flashsteps toward Serrure. One hand elongating and darkening into a scaly green claw. He wraps it viciously tight around the boy's face, muffling any would-be scream. Warning, with just the grip, how easily he could crush his skull.]
[And, eyes glowing red, he vanishes off the street. Serrure in tow.]
[The Warehouse is a good place for devouring his victim.]
Action!
He's surprisingly heavy for a kid his age and size, just shy of three hundred pounds- it's almost impossible if one thinks about it, but there it is, heavy and dense. He is doing an admirable job of keeping his breathing calm, even around that hand and his own goes to it, not trying to pry it away, but to touch the scales, the talons, interesting.]
Action!
[When Serrure's hand touches his claw, he exhales a chilling little laugh. Examine all you want. That hand will be ripping your entrails out to strum tunes on, soon enough.]
[Swooping like wind, rooftop to rooftop, he reaches the Warehouse in moments. The interior is dank and cold, underlit. But Karl's vision can see everything clearly.]
[Brutally, he slams Serrure back-first into a wall. Feet dangling. Claw around his throat. In the dark, Karl's eyes are blood-red, his fangs a phosphorescent slash.]
You should let up on the desserts, little man. You weigh more than a barrel of bloated corpses.
Action!
[It's funny, he thinks, head swimming with grey dots, to fight ones natural instinct to struggle, to let this creature hold him there, while remaining as perfectly still as possible. If you ran from big, angry dogs, they tended to chase. So for now, he would act the big dog himself, even if they both knew differently.
Bargain. Calm. If that failed, then he could think of something else.]
Action!
I can have dessert whenever I want. Or haven't you realized that yet?
[Bargaining, unfortunately, doesn't work on the insane. It's only Solomon whom Karl listened to. But even that camaraderie has lately devolved into mistrust. His hand squeezes tighter on the boy's throat, just to wring a scream out of him. He does so love it when they scream.]
Action!
Yes...[He chokes out] But...how much... of it is... willing? [Of course, that will only work if this guy doesn't prefer his meals unwilling and Serrure is beginning to think he's a bit out of luck in that department.]
Action!
Does that matter?
[If Karl wants, he takes. Also, Serrure? Preliminaries over. A filthy discarded rag lies on the floor. Karl scoops it up casually in his free hand. And jams it in a wad down the boy's mouth. In the next moment, he's removed his claw from Serrure's throat - split-seconds before his fangs flash out. Digging into the carotid artery in a gush of blood.]
[His victim can struggle all he wants. His hands - hard talons - grip the boy's upper-arms. In this position, Karl is planted firmly, strength absolute.]
[Drinking in long pulls of blood from Serrure's neck.]
Action!
Pain both blurs and sharpens his mind, his thoughts are like mice fleeing a cage and all he can think is that he does not want to die here. And that's what he's waiting for, death. The cold chill of black overcoming him. But. It doesn't. His body is responding, already trying to heal the punctures, the tear in his carotid. Ten seconds max he should have been dead.
It was all very confusing.]
Action!
[But that isn't happening here. Karl feels it all. The thrum of the boy's terrified pulse. The blood pulsing out, rich and hot. But he's not going into death-rattles. In fact, the torn skin under his fangs is closing.]
[Well well...]
[Karl takes a final drought before wrenching his fangs out. Blood slicks his grinning mouth. His red eyes dance like sparks.]
...What have we here? A demon? A goblin?
[The boy. Is not. Human. That much is clear.]
Action!
Red is not your color. You're more of a summer...[His words are ill paced, some oddly spaced, some slurring together. He is beyond scared, he is terrified. And it isn't the vampire he's afraid of. There are worse bogeyman i the world.]
I don't know, really... you tell me. You're the connoisseur.
Action!
You're right. Perhaps purple. Or whatever color your entrails might be.
[An inhuman boy. An immortal? Karl's curiosity - already piqued - ratchets tenfold. He's always wanted a toy he could torment for hours before it broke. Mentally, physically. Perhaps tonight, he'll get that chance. With Saya gone, the despair gnawing at him has boiled into an acidic, carnivorous rage.]
[Anyone - everyone - is an acceptable target.]
Who knows? I'm more interested in seeing what other parts of yours regenerate.
[One talon-hand lifting to pry open the boy's mouth.]
Your tongue, maybe?
Action!
and then those talons are slipping through his body, the wall behind him no longer solid, but intangible. He's falling through it and into another part of the warehouse. His eyes open when his bottom hits the cold ground and before him is not Karl, but a wall. It is dark, but then all comes into focus, sharp focus. Serrure doesn't question, he just pops up and begins to run.]
Action!
[A sharp chuckle - a half-hiss - blooms from his lips.]
What's this~?
You didn't tell me you were a ghost...
[Following his nose, he concentrates on catching Serrure's scent. Alert. On the prowl.]
Come out, little man~
Where are you hiding?
[His call resonates like a chilling lullaby through the air, as he trails after the boy's scent.]
Action!
The hoodie will be a total loss, pity, it was his favorite.
But now he's moving, quiet, winding his way through boxes in the dark like a mouse in a maze. He hates that thought, though mice so often get away. How do they get away? Holes. So he needs a door. He's good with doors, for some reason he knows how to turn the handle just right so that even the locked ones open.
So he begins with the first doors he finds.]
Action!
[His grin widens. All the better. It's been awhile since he had an enjoyable chase.]
[Hearing the low creak of a door, he pauses.]
[There.]
[And, quick and silent as a draft, he whooshes in the direction of the noise.]
Action!
He has to get away. He refuses to perish here.
So he scrambles into that closet, pushing the door closed, both palms flat against the wood. Forehead resting above his hands, eyes tightly shut. Stay out, he's thinking, face scrunched up, tense, as though pouring his will directly from himself, as though that could save him. But he knows it can, deep in himself he knows this slippery, sliding thing that he can't quite catch will help.
Behind his closed eyes, he can see the sick green light illuminating the room as his will etches itself upon the very door and walls.]
Action!
[A force field?]
[He scowls. This is certainly dampening his mood. But then the grin returns, dark and feral.]
You can't stay in there forever.
[From his claw-like hands, a red spike juts out. Karl aims it at the door. Wondering if he can break through the mysterious barrier - and reach the boy. All in one stroke.]
Action!
It does.]
Totally could. [He calls back, throat dry] Very nice in here. Plenty of square footage.
Action!
The longer you stay in there, the more bored I'll be. And when I do get my hands on you, it won't be nice.
[Not nice at all. His mind is already conjuring fantasies, fertile and bloody, of what to do once he's caught Serrure. Claw raised, he launches the red spike against the door. A judder. A crash. The spike shatters against the barrier. But Karl is already launching threefold more - a rain of red javelin.]
[Let's see how long the barrier holds. If it does, he has other tricks up his sleeve.]
Action!
You know what I like about this place, Karl? Aside from meeting all of the interesting people, of course?
Action!
Oh?
[Pausing with a sneer.]
What might that be?
[And he lets fly another barrage of spikes.]
Action!
[He winces at each individual impact against the doors, the walls, he will think about the ramifications of all of this later. Or perhaps he will stuff it down into the dark parts of his mind.]
Action!
[He huffs out a laugh. Solomon is his keeper here. But Solomon is recently under the effects of an enchantment. He doesn't recognize Karl anymore. Lamentable in some ways. In others, all the better.]
[Karl extends both hands now. But not to launch more spikes. Sparks flicker at his fingertips. A beat later, a brilliant bolt of lightning surges out. Hitting the barrier with stunning force.]
Action!
[The barrier holds without wavering, the indelible runes glowing as though in mockery of Karl's attempts.]
Action!
Accepting a stranger's invitation to see a scary place? You ought to know better.
[When the barrier holds, Karl glowers. A stand-off, hm? But, smile returning, he focuses on the floor. The runes glow across the walls and door. But not there. The next energy blast is launched toward the ground. Walls vibrating. Rubble and dirt flying.]
Action!
Action!
Action!
Action!
Action!
Action!
Action!
Action!
Action!