A Possible Proposition (Mischa)

[Damon Blackwell]

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The priest drove the stolen car into a ditch before walking all the way back to his dwelling in the Sunnyview apartments. It infuriated him that the humans had to have places set aside for them to be protected from the blood sucking abominations. He really felt like going out destroying more vampires, but he was too exhausted. He was only human after all. As he approached the stairs up to his floor he had to lean against the handrail as his back screamed out in pain. That old wound from ten years ago almost always acted up after a hunt. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. It wasn't so bad in the heat of the fight when his adrenaline kicked in and he was distracted by the manner at hand, but it been a few hours since he had killed those two blood suckers. He pulled himself up the stairs and in through his door before slamming his door shut and locking it several times behind him. He collapsed in his ratty, used couch. The clock on the old VCR told him it was 10:48 in the morning. All of his muscles ached and his mind was working slowly. Still, his gut told him he had been followed and he didn't live this long ignoring his paranoia, so he stood up painfully, walked to his bedroom and took the wooden stake out from under his pillow before returning to the couch and watching his from door intently.

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Word Count: 251

[Mischa Amesbury]

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There was a dull throbbing in the back of his skull - that subtle ache not appearing to want to go anywhere any time soon - but by now Mischa was used to it. At first it had been a sharp, stabbing agony that had often surprised him and made it...difficult for him to work properly. For him to concentrate. But now that it had settled in what felt like the center of his brain and had been consistent, Mischa could deal with it. So achy head or not, the little dhampir's vision was clear and his senses sharp. Actually, they seemed to have become sharper with the headaches...a pleasant side-benefit really. Though the headaches were something he'd eventually have to discuss with Xavier, he supposed, just not right yet. Especially since the human he'd been following for quite a while now currently appeared to be aware of his presence. 


Now, Mischa was no fool. He was aware the man was almost constantly on high alert. So he saw no point in trying to sneak up on the fellow. On the contrary, as the door to the other's apartment shut behind him, he made a point to let the subtle 'click' of it closing be heard so the older man wouldn't spring to instantaneous attack. And once that was done, he rather unceremoniously walked out into the open, leaning in the doorway of whatever room the other happened to be in and remained silent a moment - eyes coolly settled on the stake in the other's hand. If the other took a moment to study him, not a single trace of fear would be present in Mischa's expression...nor in the energies that poured off of him. Instead, there was a mere hint of something close to approaching amusement and a rather icy curiosity as he took his time about studying the other in turn. Finally though, he did break his silence, settling his coldly analytical gaze directly on the other's. "For someone who, by all accounts, should be concerned with leaving too much of a trail - you make it easy to find you. And you put on quite a show." 

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Word Count: 362

[Damon Blackwell]

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The hunter's eyes locked onto the intruder peeking into his living room. It was just a boy... or rather what appeared to be a boy. His mind flashed back to his early years of slaying. It was a vampire that looked not much older than this boy that had caused him the injury to his back, the one that dully ached even now. Logic dictated that since it was already daylight outside and this visitor had barged in without invitation that he was not a vampire, but that didn't make him friendly. He reached his hand into the cushion of the chair and pulled out his old service pistol and rested arm back onto the armrest of the worn down recliner. Now with a weapon in each hand he spoke. "You haven't called the police and you came into my home without invitation. I know what you're not." He paused for a moment. "You've seen what I do. You should know that I'm not afraid to kill filthy pets as well. Easier to put down, but harder to hide." He leaned back a bit, attempting to get more comfortable. He had seen the look of cold curiosity in the other's eyes and he wondered. Still, he wasn't about to trust someone who had just walked into his home and besides that, just because he wasn't a vampire didn't make him human nor did it eliminate the possibility of him being a pet as he had stated before. He looked the boy over and motioned for him to sit down. He knew that he had something to say and that was the only thing that kept Damon from trying to to kill the one that had been following him. His eyes never left him for a moment. "What is it that you want from someone like me?" The renegade priest's face remained blank and stony as he listened.

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Word Count: 317