(no subject)

[onceaviking]

Eric's at a table, thoughtfully turning a credit card over in his hand. William Compton had stopped by. With his little human friend. His incredibly tasty little human friend.

His knowledgable, tasty, little human friend.

Having to bolt from the cops had taken hours out of his work night, so he was here now, presumably to work.
Only, he couldn't stop trying to puzzle out the sweet Miss Stackhouse.

He's not at all adversed to being bothered.

Comments

[witchfinder_general]

He will certainly be adverse to being bothered by a tall, unamused priest who gives him a look as if he was an unspeakable dead thing the dog dragged in.

Which is, in a nutshell, Father Harman's opinion of Eric.

[onceaviking]

Eric notices he is being looked at.
And smiles.

It's not a particularly pleasant smile.

"Good evening, Father. "

[witchfinder_general]

Father Harman does not smile.

"Evening, parasite," he says.

[onceaviking]

Eric's smile widens.
"I do miss being insulted by the clergy, "he says." It takes me back. "

[witchfinder_general]

"To a time when more priests were sane and knew evil when they saw it?" Father Harman guesses.

[cutting_edgex23]

X's nostrils flare very slightly, and she turns from her seat to look at the tall blond.

After a moment or two of silent study --

"Hello."

[onceaviking]

Eric looks at her when she greets him. And smiles.
It's his neutral smile. One you can read all sorts of things into.
Or not.

"Hello, yourself."

Taking a breath to smell her.

[cutting_edgex23]

X is not always good at inferring. Go figure.

She smells like metal and blood, with a faint tang of ozone.

She also returns the favor by taking in Eric's scent. Super senses are great for that.

"I am X."

Beat.

"You are here a lot."

Comparatively. From the view on this side of the door.

[onceaviking]

He in turn smells of blood. With a faint hint of dust. Like old books.
He doesn't have a heartbeat. And he doesn't breathe. Most of the time.

"Fetching name," he replies. "My name is Eric. And I probably am. The door is a little erratic on my side, but little time seems to pass here."

It's a strange scent. He likes the blood. But not the metal.

[cutting_edgex23]

X takes that silence in, but does not outwardly react.

To be fair, even her most obvious expressions tend to be very faint.

"It is useful. Here. Unless time moves faster when you are gone. On either side."

You can lose people, then. X does not enjoy that.

[is_the_motion]

"Evenin' Eric." Bonnie says brightly, approaching with a pint of Watermelon Warhead. "Got one of those new-fangled credit cards?"

They were totally new-fangled in 1955.

[onceaviking]

"Bonnie," Eric replies. "Not so new where I am at, but yes. New to me."

[is_the_motion]

"Well I hope you got a good rate." Bonnie says, sitting opposite. "My Ernest got lent a bunch of money the other day and they tried to charge him a hundred percent interest. I had to phone 'em up and threaten' 'em with the choir."

[onceaviking]

"It was fairly standard, I think," Eric says. "I don't really need it. It's just a nice thing to have."

He nods at her beer.

"what's that? It smells off. "

[is_the_motion]

"Australian beer. Not sure it's yer type." Bonnie winks at him. "Tastes okay to me, you about ter tell me the brewer cut his finger off in it?"

[sidhe_king]

There's whistling from above him in a slow, wandering sort of melody not unlike what a river does, picking its path between boulders and high ground.

"I like the clothing change," Finvarra says, hanging upside down by his knees to look down at the vampire.

[onceaviking]

Eric's head whips up and it's an effort to keep his fangs retracted.

"Fin."

He could have said 'fairy'. He would have sounded just as hungry.

[sidhe_king]

"You remembered," he notes with a lazy smile, dropping down to the floor on quiet bare feet. He almost never wears shoes. "Lovely. You look like you're pining."

[onceaviking]

Eric's eyes follow him. Intently.
Taking in the way he moves. The smoothness of his skin.
The pulse of his blood.

"I was thinking."
His voice is hoarse, already a little strained by the effort of not throwing himself at the fairy.

[sidhe_king]

"Unfamiliar territory?" he asks, teasing.

[runningred]

Jay looks exactly as shit as expected after the night he has the other night. He has Eric's folder, a notebook and a bunch of drawings. And a fuck-ton of coffee. He folds a paper plane out of one of his finishes deigns and tossed it to gently glide to Eric.

[onceaviking]

Eric catches it without looking up.

Then he says, "Good evening, Jay ."
He can smell you. He doesn't have to look.

[runningred]

"Hey." Jay calls, going back to designs without bugging Eric.

The paperwork is a sketch of Eric's yard with notes on the placement of a line of small electric pulse mines around the perimeter with a line of motion activated gas nozzles closer in. "Still working on the third line of defence."

[onceaviking]

And then Eric is standing next to him, looking down at the plans. With a cold hand on his shoulder.

[runningred]

Jay tilts his head up slightly in acknowledgement as he sketches out a molecular structure. "I've got access to a fear inducing compound designed by a supervillain from my past. A stripped down version of it would give an intruder a sense of intense dread that would get more intense as they get closer to the house." He scratches behind his ear with his pen. "Just a thought."