[VOICE; LOCKED to "Pendragon"]

[primogen_vampirate]

[Someone hasn't eaten in a few days and is starting to get peckish. She's hesitant to go down this road, but so far this is the only prospect aside from Carter, who she respects a bit too much.

So her lazy drawl comes on over the communications network, appropriately in ancient Norse because...why not?]

I'm starting to think that you were all talk, darling.

Comments

[primogen_vampirate]

Then I suppose we've an arrangement. Although I do feel like I just made a deal with the devil.

[She pats her lap.]

[hung_garian]

You're not far wrong.

[He raises an eyebrow at her.]

What am I, a cat?

[primogen_vampirate]

I was thinking more like a lap dog. You do have those puppy eyes.

[She frowns thoughtfully, examining her rings.]

Wouldn't be the first time I've made a deal with a devil. Although I do hope you won't tattoo a Hebrew letter on my face if you get displeased.

[hung_garian]

Aww, honey, you say the sweetest things.

[He does, however, push himself forward onto one of the sofa's actual seats, landing with a bump. The sofa seems undamaged. Perks of being an archangel.]

Anyway, I wouldn't damage a face as pretty as yours like that. [Beat.] I'd damage it with runes. Norse gods represent.

[primogen_vampirate]

Well, it would hardly be my first Norse tattoo. But I'm afraid we don't know each other nearly well enough to discuss the others.

[And brazenly, she pulls his head down onto her lap.]

[hung_garian]

[He deals with that quite well, considering. There's only a brief moment of 'what?' before he decides why argue with a good thing, and stretches out on the sofa. Not difficult, when you're his height.]

You know what they say, show don't tell.

[primogen_vampirate]

Yes, well, I can tell you exactly what sort of people say that. And I am, sadly, a different sort.

[Of course, as she notices her hand sparkling a little, she has to wonder exactly what sort of creature she is these days.]

[hung_garian]

It was worth a try.

[He looks up at her.]

Something up?

[primogen_vampirate]

I don't like sparkling. I'd rather like it to go away.

[hung_garian]

I don't know, I think it suits you. Think of it this way, you'll never have to buy body glitter again.

[primogen_vampirate]

What's body glitter?

[hung_garian]

[He rolls his eyes.]

The clue's in the name. Take a wild guess.

[primogen_vampirate]

Some sort of cosmetic, I suppose?

[She shrugs, none too fussed.]

Tell me the truth: You're not a fae, are you?

[hung_garian]

The best kind.

[He shakes his head, not too easy when you're lying down.]

A fairy? No. Though I do look pretty darn good in a Tinkerbell costume.

[primogen_vampirate]

Good. Bloody hate the fae.

[hung_garian]

Yeesh. What did they do, pick on you in high school?

[primogen_vampirate]

Why, exactly, do you think I'm sparkling, dear?

Not something vampires commonly do.

[hung_garian]

[Oh, if only Twilight had come out before he'd died.]

Because you're a special snowflake?

[primogen_vampirate]

Of course I am.

But it's sadly a Fae infection. I'm the Queen, you know.

[Yeah, even she can't take that one seriously.]

[hung_garian]

Oh yes? You look better in person than on the stamps, your maj. I suggest a new photographer.

[primogen_vampirate]

Vampires don't photograph, dear.

[hung_garian]

It was a joke, dear.

[primogen_vampirate]

[She rakes her fingers through his hair.]

I like a man with spirit.

When are you from, though? Your clothing is...unique.

[hung_garian]

That's me, more spirit than a horse with ginger up its ass.

2010, and I'll have you know these are considered the pinnacle of fashion. Why, when're you?

[primogen_vampirate]

1932, last time I checked.