Unseelie & Hermoine-net Compass

[huntedby]

[The device turns on--Vanessa looks...more relaxed, somehow. Her hair is down about her shoulders, a bit wild. From the angle, it seems she is lounging on something. Giving a little smile, she stretches, then speaks, her voice a bit more melodic than normal.]

A wise man once said, "Though a quarrel in the streets is a thing to be hated, the energies displayed in it are fine; the commonest man shows a grace in his quarrel."

I have been thinking on such words. Should we be considered graceful, in the war we make? The battles, the fights...each are bloody. There is something beautiful in it, is there not? In death. In the pale, bloodless wake that is left once life has been completely drained.

[She smiles, a curious, almost mocking innocent look in her eyes.]

Flesh torn, limbs lopped from their owners. The shards dimmed and ripped from chests...and those without becoming fodder for the Void.

Such a trail of dead, all of us do. Such things must trouble your conscious, do they not?

Even if such a thing shouldn't.

[She lets out a sigh, and reaches off camera to grab a glass of wine, before bringing it to her lips, sipping.]

Regardless, I thought I should offer an invitation to strangers and friends alike, to come visit me.

We could have such fun, you and I.

[ooc: if you want more info go here! Log will go up later tonight/tomorrow if you want to participate in that.]

Comments

[huntedby]

Lilith.

No, Dante. Much older.

[Greater than Christianity. Greater than anything.]

[fuckchild]

You're looking pretty good for being over ten thousand.

[He'd ask how she knows him, but really, everyone knows him back home. Not by choice, really.]

What's your secret, fresh souls of dead babies?

[huntedby]

The gift of reincarnation.

There are always new souls, being born, ready for me.

[fuckchild]

Or taken by you. You don't care about those souls as long as you get them for yourself.

[huntedby]

...oh I care.

They call, I come.

Come now, Dante. You can't deny what you are. That you know the thrill.

[fuckchild]

I know what I'm not: demon scum like you and the rest of them that put everyone through Hell.

[Though he doesn't deny the thrill of the fight, the thrill of killing them all.]

I don't need other people to do what I want, either. You go around possessing people because you can't sack up to do it yourself.

[huntedby]

It is her own fault. She refuses to accept destiny.

[She rolls her eyes.]

She is mine. Two sides of the coin. Who says she is not the usurper?

[fuckchild]

First you say she refuses, then you say she's the usurper. Why would she fight back if she really wants it? So which one is it, Nefertiti?

[huntedby]

They are not exclusive ideas.

A child fights their bedtime because they like to be contrary. A want and a need are different.

And she needs this.

[fuckchild]

She doesn't need anything, not when you're riding shotgun. You're an asshole, but you've probably heard that one already. And you're definitely no mother type to tell a kid when to go to bed.

[huntedby]

Just give it time, Dante.

You'll bow. Or I'll find a way to tear your heart from your chest. You are more like your mother than father, after all.

[fuckchild]

Try it. Not you, not anyone's going to make me bow. And don't you dare talk about my mother.

[huntedby]

And what will you do, young one?

Come over here, and teach me a lesson?

[fuckchild]

You'd be shit outta luck without a body to inhabit.

[huntedby]

There are hundreds to inhabit here. Give me time.