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VOICEMAIL | Blaise Mathieu Richelieu
Jul. 11th, 2030 10:59 pm
[Message for muse & mun can be left here. Please state which.]
[Message for muse & mun can be left here. Please state which.]
[Follows THIS and THIS]
As soon as he was able, Blaise had given his orders that Rory be brought here to his manor, if he agreed, of course. There was still a chance the Scot would decline and Blaise wouldn't push the issue. He would just make sure there was a close Ventrue confidante in Scotland available to ensure Rory was well taken care of as he required under a Kindred influence like he was. But apparently Rory hadn't declined, and even more to the point, Buffy had been with him when he had woken. The doctors kept Rory another night when he expressed a wish to just want to sleep, so they let him. When he had been unconscious, it wouldn't have been a restful slumber. Not after being drained. Now he had to recuperate and regain his strength, ironically just like Blaise.
But now Blaise was awake and on his feet, which was a start. He was adorned in a midnight blue silk bathrobe tied loosely at his hip as he stood by and watched a nurse he had employed check over Rory in the king sized bed of the guest room he had offered him. Once again, the Scot just slept on, barely having said a lot when he was brought here. He needed assistance, which is why Blaise had the nurse brought here. She was Kindred, but worked in a mortal hospital. She was one of the best of her kind and more than happy to take the job Blaise offered her. Rory's blood pressure was still a little low, but he was healing well otherwise. Sleep would be a good thing. Blaise cleared his throat and glanced at his personal assitant standing beside him a few paces from the bed. "Jaquelynne. Bring me Mademoiselle Summers. I must speak to her in regards to Monsieur Buchanan."
( Blaise's eyes remained on the sleeping Scot, watching the nurse with him... )
Word Count | 3,792
As soon as he was able, Blaise had given his orders that Rory be brought here to his manor, if he agreed, of course. There was still a chance the Scot would decline and Blaise wouldn't push the issue. He would just make sure there was a close Ventrue confidante in Scotland available to ensure Rory was well taken care of as he required under a Kindred influence like he was. But apparently Rory hadn't declined, and even more to the point, Buffy had been with him when he had woken. The doctors kept Rory another night when he expressed a wish to just want to sleep, so they let him. When he had been unconscious, it wouldn't have been a restful slumber. Not after being drained. Now he had to recuperate and regain his strength, ironically just like Blaise.
But now Blaise was awake and on his feet, which was a start. He was adorned in a midnight blue silk bathrobe tied loosely at his hip as he stood by and watched a nurse he had employed check over Rory in the king sized bed of the guest room he had offered him. Once again, the Scot just slept on, barely having said a lot when he was brought here. He needed assistance, which is why Blaise had the nurse brought here. She was Kindred, but worked in a mortal hospital. She was one of the best of her kind and more than happy to take the job Blaise offered her. Rory's blood pressure was still a little low, but he was healing well otherwise. Sleep would be a good thing. Blaise cleared his throat and glanced at his personal assitant standing beside him a few paces from the bed. "Jaquelynne. Bring me Mademoiselle Summers. I must speak to her in regards to Monsieur Buchanan."
( Blaise's eyes remained on the sleeping Scot, watching the nurse with him... )
Word Count | 3,792
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musesandlyrics | 10.3. Woody Allen quote
Oct. 20th, 2010 11:10 pm10.3. "Love is the answer, but while you are waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions."
Woody Allen
Co-written with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
histhornedrose
Blaise didn't even manage to make it to his bedroom before he had to stop, leaning weakly against the wall as he took his cell phone out and called on Jaquelynne to bring him someone to feed on. He stayed resting there until she came, her arm linked through the elbow of their gardener, who was more than happy to be Blaise's (or anyone's) meal when it was needed. He was mortal, but had a long history of involvement with Kindred. He was employed because he was currently dating one of Blaise's Kindred advisors. It all worked out, even if it came across as more than incestuous on first glance. Blaise locked gazes with the young man as they approached, and he didn't hesitate when he reached for the man's arm. But he faltered, pausing as he put his wrist up to his lips. His stomach turned at the prospect of feeding and his eyes fell closed momentarily as he braced himself, wetting his lips.
He was still leaning against the wall as both Jaquelynne and the gardener waited for him. When he opened his eyes, they were silver and it was only then that he noticed Juliette standing at the end of the hall watching the scene with her arms folded and an unreadable expression on her face. This time, he locked her gaze before he broke it and bit down sharply on the man's arm, feeling his blood rush over his tongue and flood his mouth. The man moaned in pleasure as Blaise gripped his arm and fed as intensely as he could manage, but he could only tolerate it for a short while before he was pulling back, licking his lips with a small frustrated shake of his head. He passed the poor guy's arm off to Jaquelynne to heal and then wiped some droplets of blood from his lips with the edge of his hand, looking beyond his personal assitant and the gardener to Juliette. "Merci," he told them quietly. "Go now." Jaquelynne kissed Blaise's forehead softly and then disappeared with the gardener again, leaving Blaise and Juliette in the hall alone.
( Juliette waited a moment before she started to move closer to Blaise, the unreadable expression turning into one of concern... )
Word Count | 6,429
Woody Allen
Co-written with
histhornedroseBlaise didn't even manage to make it to his bedroom before he had to stop, leaning weakly against the wall as he took his cell phone out and called on Jaquelynne to bring him someone to feed on. He stayed resting there until she came, her arm linked through the elbow of their gardener, who was more than happy to be Blaise's (or anyone's) meal when it was needed. He was mortal, but had a long history of involvement with Kindred. He was employed because he was currently dating one of Blaise's Kindred advisors. It all worked out, even if it came across as more than incestuous on first glance. Blaise locked gazes with the young man as they approached, and he didn't hesitate when he reached for the man's arm. But he faltered, pausing as he put his wrist up to his lips. His stomach turned at the prospect of feeding and his eyes fell closed momentarily as he braced himself, wetting his lips.
He was still leaning against the wall as both Jaquelynne and the gardener waited for him. When he opened his eyes, they were silver and it was only then that he noticed Juliette standing at the end of the hall watching the scene with her arms folded and an unreadable expression on her face. This time, he locked her gaze before he broke it and bit down sharply on the man's arm, feeling his blood rush over his tongue and flood his mouth. The man moaned in pleasure as Blaise gripped his arm and fed as intensely as he could manage, but he could only tolerate it for a short while before he was pulling back, licking his lips with a small frustrated shake of his head. He passed the poor guy's arm off to Jaquelynne to heal and then wiped some droplets of blood from his lips with the edge of his hand, looking beyond his personal assitant and the gardener to Juliette. "Merci," he told them quietly. "Go now." Jaquelynne kissed Blaise's forehead softly and then disappeared with the gardener again, leaving Blaise and Juliette in the hall alone.
( Juliette waited a moment before she started to move closer to Blaise, the unreadable expression turning into one of concern... )
Word Count | 6,429
[Follows THIS]
The night was getting on by the time Blaise arrived back to his estate from the military facility. It had been a long day, and after being confronted by the lover of Rory's brother out of the blue, Blaise had finally managed to go into a closed-door meeting with Riley to discuss where the whole situation lay now. They spoke for hours, trying to put a range of different plans into action to support a number of different scenarios they could be faced with. And that was before they even got to discussing standard Kindred business beyond what was occurring in their immediate reach. Blaise was still the Prince, and there were still many other issues he had to consider all the time. Having been overshadowed by Rory's attack, there was a lot of business they had to visit in their meeting together, and even by the time it ended, Riley was close to falling asleep at his desk. Indeed, Blaise had watched with an amused smirk when Riley had briefly dropped off in the middle of a phone call and nearly poked himself in the eye with his pen. He had quickly, yet sheepishly, regained his composure, though it was enough of a reminder for Blaise that the Sergeant was still human and needed rest. As it was Blaise was still drained himself. He would welcome being home where he could relax for a little while.
( He was surprised when he stepped out of his sleek back car, however, and found Buffy sitting with Airlie and Xander on the comfortable outdoor chairs in the garden by the steps... )
Word Count | 8,868
The night was getting on by the time Blaise arrived back to his estate from the military facility. It had been a long day, and after being confronted by the lover of Rory's brother out of the blue, Blaise had finally managed to go into a closed-door meeting with Riley to discuss where the whole situation lay now. They spoke for hours, trying to put a range of different plans into action to support a number of different scenarios they could be faced with. And that was before they even got to discussing standard Kindred business beyond what was occurring in their immediate reach. Blaise was still the Prince, and there were still many other issues he had to consider all the time. Having been overshadowed by Rory's attack, there was a lot of business they had to visit in their meeting together, and even by the time it ended, Riley was close to falling asleep at his desk. Indeed, Blaise had watched with an amused smirk when Riley had briefly dropped off in the middle of a phone call and nearly poked himself in the eye with his pen. He had quickly, yet sheepishly, regained his composure, though it was enough of a reminder for Blaise that the Sergeant was still human and needed rest. As it was Blaise was still drained himself. He would welcome being home where he could relax for a little while.
( He was surprised when he stepped out of his sleek back car, however, and found Buffy sitting with Airlie and Xander on the comfortable outdoor chairs in the garden by the steps... )
Word Count | 8,868
10.1. "People say that you're going the wrong way when it's simply a way of your own."
Angelina Jolie
Co-written withkindredmi6
[Follows THIS and THIS]
Blaise had no choice but to force himself out of his bed to return to the military facility, despite fighting the whole night before with the intense pain and sickness that plagued him. He really hoped Buffy wasn't scarred by the experience or averted by it all. He might not have ended up bleeding out of every orifice, but his body continued to try and purge it intensely, and he really hadn't looked at all healthy by the end of it. Not to mention the sheer amount of blood loss that came with it all. His bed looked something akin to a murder scene at one point there, but his staff where efficient and attentive. They made it as easy as they possibly could, and even seemed to harbour a new found compassion for Buffy in sticking it out.
When morning came, Blaise had managed to feed on Jacquelynne's lover, who was a human. He knew how important Blaise was to his true love, and was happy to help out, obviously already a regular snack for her as it was. It gave Blaise a little strength, and he finally responded to Riley's many demands for a meeting. He was still ailing, however. On the face of it, he appeared as normal in the wake of the feed, but internally, he was very weak. Finding even walking anything more than between a few rooms just drained his energy. He was now standing in the hospital room of the military infirmary, dressed in a pair of light jeans with a cream knit jumper. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Rory from the end of the bed, unconscious and sleeping as he regained his strength after the second drain. His Haemoglobin levels were up from the day before. A positive sign for Blaise, yet he was still concerned for the Scot. He would remain as close by his side as he could manage until he knew he was strong enough to face the world alone again.
( With Kindred senses came extra-strong sense of hearing, on top of everything else. A small noise and a presence alerted Blaise that he was not alone... )
Word Count | 4,535
Angelina Jolie
Co-written with
kindredmi6[Follows THIS and THIS]
Blaise had no choice but to force himself out of his bed to return to the military facility, despite fighting the whole night before with the intense pain and sickness that plagued him. He really hoped Buffy wasn't scarred by the experience or averted by it all. He might not have ended up bleeding out of every orifice, but his body continued to try and purge it intensely, and he really hadn't looked at all healthy by the end of it. Not to mention the sheer amount of blood loss that came with it all. His bed looked something akin to a murder scene at one point there, but his staff where efficient and attentive. They made it as easy as they possibly could, and even seemed to harbour a new found compassion for Buffy in sticking it out.
When morning came, Blaise had managed to feed on Jacquelynne's lover, who was a human. He knew how important Blaise was to his true love, and was happy to help out, obviously already a regular snack for her as it was. It gave Blaise a little strength, and he finally responded to Riley's many demands for a meeting. He was still ailing, however. On the face of it, he appeared as normal in the wake of the feed, but internally, he was very weak. Finding even walking anything more than between a few rooms just drained his energy. He was now standing in the hospital room of the military infirmary, dressed in a pair of light jeans with a cream knit jumper. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Rory from the end of the bed, unconscious and sleeping as he regained his strength after the second drain. His Haemoglobin levels were up from the day before. A positive sign for Blaise, yet he was still concerned for the Scot. He would remain as close by his side as he could manage until he knew he was strong enough to face the world alone again.
( With Kindred senses came extra-strong sense of hearing, on top of everything else. A small noise and a presence alerted Blaise that he was not alone... )
Word Count | 4,535
[Follows THIS and THIS]
Blaise was holding himself up on the door jamb between his bedroom and his en suite bathroom. His eyes were closed and he rested his head against the cool iron frame of the door, trying to somehow draw on any lingering strength he had remaining in him. "Mon cherie... I'll summon Mademoiselle Rousseau for you," Jaquelynne, his assistant and personal friend, murmured, the concern evident in her helpless tone. She was standing behind him, her hand resting on his back in case he needed any help. It looked like he needed a lot of help, but he wasn't relinquishing to that yet.
"Non. Do not. I forbid you," Blaise said sharply, opening his eyes to lock her with a warning glare. But it lost its intensity as soon as it appeared and he moved sluggishly into the bathroom. "I do not what her in my presence." It indicated just how much of a rift had formed between the two mates in the wake of the events earlier in the day. But now, they just all felt like a lifetime ago to Blaise now the frenzy had diluted. He needed to feed to regain some strength, but he was too weak to face it yet. First, he had to try and rid his body of that tainted blood. It was too late to purge of it all, but he could try. Purging wasn't something he was foreign to. Vampires couldn't digest anything but blood, so when a Kindred ate food for the purpose of The Masquerade, they inevitably had to purge themselves of it at some juncture. It wasn't forgotten how ill he had felt trying to feed on Buffy's blood, but this was worse. Blaise felt just plain sick, and he hadn't felt like that in a very long time. In fact, it was likely during his Childer days, when he was still bouncing around like an excited puppy, biting into anything he could get his fangs into as he found his Kindred feet. All those years ago in his youth, he had been quite the player; exciteable, loving the company of ladies, and enjoying anything that could get his heart racing. Literally centuries later, his human self was but a distant memory. Risk was something he rarely flirted with unless he knew what he was dealing with.
( He was struggling to understand how blindsided he had been that evening... )
Word Count | 9,480
Blaise was holding himself up on the door jamb between his bedroom and his en suite bathroom. His eyes were closed and he rested his head against the cool iron frame of the door, trying to somehow draw on any lingering strength he had remaining in him. "Mon cherie... I'll summon Mademoiselle Rousseau for you," Jaquelynne, his assistant and personal friend, murmured, the concern evident in her helpless tone. She was standing behind him, her hand resting on his back in case he needed any help. It looked like he needed a lot of help, but he wasn't relinquishing to that yet.
"Non. Do not. I forbid you," Blaise said sharply, opening his eyes to lock her with a warning glare. But it lost its intensity as soon as it appeared and he moved sluggishly into the bathroom. "I do not what her in my presence." It indicated just how much of a rift had formed between the two mates in the wake of the events earlier in the day. But now, they just all felt like a lifetime ago to Blaise now the frenzy had diluted. He needed to feed to regain some strength, but he was too weak to face it yet. First, he had to try and rid his body of that tainted blood. It was too late to purge of it all, but he could try. Purging wasn't something he was foreign to. Vampires couldn't digest anything but blood, so when a Kindred ate food for the purpose of The Masquerade, they inevitably had to purge themselves of it at some juncture. It wasn't forgotten how ill he had felt trying to feed on Buffy's blood, but this was worse. Blaise felt just plain sick, and he hadn't felt like that in a very long time. In fact, it was likely during his Childer days, when he was still bouncing around like an excited puppy, biting into anything he could get his fangs into as he found his Kindred feet. All those years ago in his youth, he had been quite the player; exciteable, loving the company of ladies, and enjoying anything that could get his heart racing. Literally centuries later, his human self was but a distant memory. Risk was something he rarely flirted with unless he knew what he was dealing with.
( He was struggling to understand how blindsided he had been that evening... )
Word Count | 9,480
musesandlyrics | 10.5. Dexter quote
Oct. 6th, 2010 11:45 am10.5. “No blood. No sticky, hot, messy, awful blood; no blood at all. Why hadn't I thought of that? No blood. What a beautiful idea!”
Dexter
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
By the time night fell, the air was chilled and moist, with covering of cloud across the sky that indicated rain could be pending. Perfect weather, as far as Blaise was concerned. It hadn’t even crossed Blaise’s mind that someone, or more than one someone, might have been listening in on his conversation with Juliette. It had been confronting to him to realise Buffy and Riley were there, but he didn’t want to be in either of their presences. Not then. His senses were too piqued to have any sort of normal conversation. The anger at Juliette had only been one facet. He was still primed in the wake of draining Rory, and the taste on his tongue was all-encompassing, like it was engulfing him and taunting him over the turn of events that Blaise was less than content with.
Leaving the military facility, he had gone underground. Literally. It had still been in the last vestiges of daylight when he left, and he slipped into the back of his car to be taken into the city to a nightclub owned by his Gangrel Primogen. Beneath the club, there was a whole Kindred network, often used as an escape, and never would a human be allowed to grace it. He met with some colleagues, still trying to glean any information on a Brujah rebellion, but there seemed to be nothing but dead ends. Pun probably very much intended. He just hadn’t had the patience to remain in the meeting for very long, all of thirty minutes at the most. A gnawing restlessness clawed within him and he couldn’t shake it. The taste was overwhelming, eating him up. He had to be rid of it.
( He left the meeting abruptly, without word or explanation. They had all seen his eyes, sensed his discontent. No one would dare question his departure... )
Word Count | 1,783
Dexter
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
By the time night fell, the air was chilled and moist, with covering of cloud across the sky that indicated rain could be pending. Perfect weather, as far as Blaise was concerned. It hadn’t even crossed Blaise’s mind that someone, or more than one someone, might have been listening in on his conversation with Juliette. It had been confronting to him to realise Buffy and Riley were there, but he didn’t want to be in either of their presences. Not then. His senses were too piqued to have any sort of normal conversation. The anger at Juliette had only been one facet. He was still primed in the wake of draining Rory, and the taste on his tongue was all-encompassing, like it was engulfing him and taunting him over the turn of events that Blaise was less than content with.
Leaving the military facility, he had gone underground. Literally. It had still been in the last vestiges of daylight when he left, and he slipped into the back of his car to be taken into the city to a nightclub owned by his Gangrel Primogen. Beneath the club, there was a whole Kindred network, often used as an escape, and never would a human be allowed to grace it. He met with some colleagues, still trying to glean any information on a Brujah rebellion, but there seemed to be nothing but dead ends. Pun probably very much intended. He just hadn’t had the patience to remain in the meeting for very long, all of thirty minutes at the most. A gnawing restlessness clawed within him and he couldn’t shake it. The taste was overwhelming, eating him up. He had to be rid of it.
( He left the meeting abruptly, without word or explanation. They had all seen his eyes, sensed his discontent. No one would dare question his departure... )
Word Count | 1,783
musesandlyrics | 9.3. Oscar Wilde quote
Oct. 4th, 2010 06:07 pm9.3. "The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it."
Oscar Wilde
Co-written withhisthornedrose
[Follows THIS and THIS]
The only time Blaise chose to leave Rory's bedside was once he was satisfied the blood transfusion was running, and that Rory's obs were stable. Initially, they hadn't been. Initially, the second drain seemed to be too much stress on him and he went into cardiac arrest. Luckily, the military medical team were the best in their field and they had him stabilised with a relatively small amount of work. Rory's heartbeat started to get stronger once the blood was well on its way to being replenished. There was not a single command, order, or angry glare that would have caused Blaise to leave the Scot. What he did wasn't a claim, but it was his responsibility. Blaise never left someone he fed on without ensuring they had adequate assistance to survive the feed. He never drained them to the point their life was seriously in danger, but this was different. Rory's body had already been through extensive stress. That was the risk in what Blaise did, but as he had watched the terrible scene play out, it became more and more inevitable that Rory would have caused himself irreparable damage if he remained in the Brujah state of mind. It was beyond who he really was and he was on a rage overload. He would have killed or been killed. No question about it.
( But with Rory now under Blaise's influence, Blaise stayed with him as long as it took to know he was okay... )
Word Count | 2,652
Oscar Wilde
Co-written with
histhornedrose[Follows THIS and THIS]
The only time Blaise chose to leave Rory's bedside was once he was satisfied the blood transfusion was running, and that Rory's obs were stable. Initially, they hadn't been. Initially, the second drain seemed to be too much stress on him and he went into cardiac arrest. Luckily, the military medical team were the best in their field and they had him stabilised with a relatively small amount of work. Rory's heartbeat started to get stronger once the blood was well on its way to being replenished. There was not a single command, order, or angry glare that would have caused Blaise to leave the Scot. What he did wasn't a claim, but it was his responsibility. Blaise never left someone he fed on without ensuring they had adequate assistance to survive the feed. He never drained them to the point their life was seriously in danger, but this was different. Rory's body had already been through extensive stress. That was the risk in what Blaise did, but as he had watched the terrible scene play out, it became more and more inevitable that Rory would have caused himself irreparable damage if he remained in the Brujah state of mind. It was beyond who he really was and he was on a rage overload. He would have killed or been killed. No question about it.
( But with Rory now under Blaise's influence, Blaise stayed with him as long as it took to know he was okay... )
Word Count | 2,652
RP LOG | Desperate measures
Oct. 3rd, 2010 01:14 am[With loganthebrave, histhornedrose & naysowee]
Blaise was pretty sure he had the Kindred equivalent of a headache. His mind was so full of stress that he had a sensation that it was painful. He even allowed himself the hint of a sigh of relief as he exited Rory's hospital room, even if he was nervous about leaving the injured Scot alone with his brother now the restraints were gone. He understood why the soldiers had resorted to that tactic. Riley had been lucky to just escape with a concussion because Rory could have slammed his head a lot harder against that wall and even killed him if he was enraged enough. Blaise wasn't content with the situation at all. In fact, the more he thought about it and the more Brujah he saw coming out in Rory, the more it bothered him. This wasn't Rory, not according to what everyone was saying, and the longer he took to come out of these the effects, the longer it could take to get him back. In fact, he might never quite be the same again. There was even a chance he could get out there and walk right into another group of rebel Brujah and ask to be Embraced how he was right now, and Blaise just simply couldn't let that happen. He would do whatever it took to stop it.
( Juliette was sitting in a large and clinical-feeling waiting room that apparently had enough security to cover a small country to ensure anyone put there to wait, stayed there and didn't try to infiltrate the main and secure areas of the facility... )
Word Count | 3,123
loganthebrave, histhornedrose & naysowee]Blaise was pretty sure he had the Kindred equivalent of a headache. His mind was so full of stress that he had a sensation that it was painful. He even allowed himself the hint of a sigh of relief as he exited Rory's hospital room, even if he was nervous about leaving the injured Scot alone with his brother now the restraints were gone. He understood why the soldiers had resorted to that tactic. Riley had been lucky to just escape with a concussion because Rory could have slammed his head a lot harder against that wall and even killed him if he was enraged enough. Blaise wasn't content with the situation at all. In fact, the more he thought about it and the more Brujah he saw coming out in Rory, the more it bothered him. This wasn't Rory, not according to what everyone was saying, and the longer he took to come out of these the effects, the longer it could take to get him back. In fact, he might never quite be the same again. There was even a chance he could get out there and walk right into another group of rebel Brujah and ask to be Embraced how he was right now, and Blaise just simply couldn't let that happen. He would do whatever it took to stop it.
( Juliette was sitting in a large and clinical-feeling waiting room that apparently had enough security to cover a small country to ensure anyone put there to wait, stayed there and didn't try to infiltrate the main and secure areas of the facility... )
Word Count | 3,123
It was like a Mexican Stand-off. Logan sat on one side of his brother’s hospital bed staring hardly at the enigmatic Frenchman sitting in the same position on the other side, staring back just as intently. Logan had his elbows resting on his knees, and really had no shame in staring the guy out. So what if he was trying to figure him out with actually trying to talk to him? He was a Secret Intelligence Agent. Secretive shit was what he did, and if he didn’t feel like talk to the other guy yet, then he fucking was going to talk to him yet. And if having someone else in the room was bothering him, he certainly wasn’t going to let on to the fact. In fact, he kept his emotions schooled to complete blankness, so no Kindred senses were piqued without invitation. It wasn’t an easy skill to hone, remaining blank and calm, but Logan was highly trained to even cheat lie detector tests, so he had the ability to pull it off.
( Between them, Rory lay unconscious and with his sedatives stopped that morning as promised, it was just a matter of waiting for him to wake up... )
Word Count | 1,954
( Between them, Rory lay unconscious and with his sedatives stopped that morning as promised, it was just a matter of waiting for him to wake up... )
Word Count | 1,954
RP LOG | Another hitch in the road
Sep. 29th, 2010 03:53 pm[With histhornedrose, lotterylucky, gr8muppetyodin & loganthebrave | Follows THIS]
Buffy was becoming starkly aware that no one had said anything, but what was there to say. She just sat there with her jaw hanging open as she took in the fact that Logan Buchanan really did share his brother's genes, and then some. Their parents had to have been ridiculously good looking. And now, come to think of it, she was pretty sure Rory had never mentioned parents let alone a brother. A brother who was still waiting for someone to say something. She looked behind her at Riley who just looked like he wanted to pass out, and then glanced to where Graham was protecting Blaise and Juliette.
She stood up to nudge him out of the way a little. "Hey, just stand down, okay? This is Rory's brother. Does he look like he's ready to do some damage." Buffy moved over to Logan, ignoring the military escort he seemed to have picked up as she held out her hand. "Buffy Summers. I'm a friend of Rory's. Forgive the sudden lack of ability to speak on pretty much everyone's behalf but you're kind of a new twist in the Rory tale. One of those things no one was expecting. Rory hit Riley in the head. He usually is a lot smarter than this."
( Juliette's eyes narrowed as she breathed in deep, trying to see if the new arrival smelt anything like Rory... )
Word Count | 3,472
histhornedrose, lotterylucky, gr8muppetyodin & loganthebrave | Follows THIS]Buffy was becoming starkly aware that no one had said anything, but what was there to say. She just sat there with her jaw hanging open as she took in the fact that Logan Buchanan really did share his brother's genes, and then some. Their parents had to have been ridiculously good looking. And now, come to think of it, she was pretty sure Rory had never mentioned parents let alone a brother. A brother who was still waiting for someone to say something. She looked behind her at Riley who just looked like he wanted to pass out, and then glanced to where Graham was protecting Blaise and Juliette.
She stood up to nudge him out of the way a little. "Hey, just stand down, okay? This is Rory's brother. Does he look like he's ready to do some damage." Buffy moved over to Logan, ignoring the military escort he seemed to have picked up as she held out her hand. "Buffy Summers. I'm a friend of Rory's. Forgive the sudden lack of ability to speak on pretty much everyone's behalf but you're kind of a new twist in the Rory tale. One of those things no one was expecting. Rory hit Riley in the head. He usually is a lot smarter than this."
( Juliette's eyes narrowed as she breathed in deep, trying to see if the new arrival smelt anything like Rory... )
Word Count | 3,472
[Follows THIS and THIS]
There were four people in Riley's office right but, but he could actually swear blindly that there were eight. He was sitting at his desk trying his best to look like he could actually focus on them without going cross-eyed, but it wasn't the easiest of tasks he had ever faced. He blinked slowly a couple of times, his hands resting splayed on the desk. Man, was his head pounding. He was aware they were probably waiting for him to say something, and he would get to that. He would. In a moment when the room stopped spinning a little. After getting his head slammed into a concrete wall by an extremely pissed off Scotsman, who could really expect his brain to be functioning 100%? It was probably a miracle it was still attached to the interior of his skull. Beside his desk, Graham was standing in his camos, arms crossed as he just glared at Buffy. It was like he was waiting for her to say something negative against Riley to give him an excuse to bitch her out. "Graham, dude. Unless your ass is made of razor blades and you're gonna slice up my interior design, please sit. I need you all on one eye level so I don't have to move my head," Riley finally spoke, gingerly touching the back of his head where he had been subjected to no less than seven sutures. It seemed that along with Kindred emotions, Rory was harbouring a percentage of their physical strength, also. It probably had literally been only moments to spare before he would have been turned. Lucky didn't even begin to cut it.
( Blaise was sitting in one of the chairs on the opposite side of Riley's desk facing him. On either side of him sat Juliette and Buffy, all three of them managing to watch Riley with the same curious, yet dumbfounded, look on their faces... )
Word Count | 4,063
There were four people in Riley's office right but, but he could actually swear blindly that there were eight. He was sitting at his desk trying his best to look like he could actually focus on them without going cross-eyed, but it wasn't the easiest of tasks he had ever faced. He blinked slowly a couple of times, his hands resting splayed on the desk. Man, was his head pounding. He was aware they were probably waiting for him to say something, and he would get to that. He would. In a moment when the room stopped spinning a little. After getting his head slammed into a concrete wall by an extremely pissed off Scotsman, who could really expect his brain to be functioning 100%? It was probably a miracle it was still attached to the interior of his skull. Beside his desk, Graham was standing in his camos, arms crossed as he just glared at Buffy. It was like he was waiting for her to say something negative against Riley to give him an excuse to bitch her out. "Graham, dude. Unless your ass is made of razor blades and you're gonna slice up my interior design, please sit. I need you all on one eye level so I don't have to move my head," Riley finally spoke, gingerly touching the back of his head where he had been subjected to no less than seven sutures. It seemed that along with Kindred emotions, Rory was harbouring a percentage of their physical strength, also. It probably had literally been only moments to spare before he would have been turned. Lucky didn't even begin to cut it.
( Blaise was sitting in one of the chairs on the opposite side of Riley's desk facing him. On either side of him sat Juliette and Buffy, all three of them managing to watch Riley with the same curious, yet dumbfounded, look on their faces... )
Word Count | 4,063
[Follows THIS]
After Juliette's little impromptu de-robed art session, Blaise was now sitting back at his desk, but this time dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a silver casual button-up shirt. He wasn't out on business, and he had the luxury of dressing down around his home. He realised that Buffy hadn't seen him like this, and nor had Sergeant Finn, who had just appeared at the office door, knocking lightly on the door jamb. Blaise waved him in, having already asked Buffy here after receiving news on Rory Buchanan. "Sergeant Finn," he greeted him with a smile. "Entrez, merci."
Riley started to enter the ornate office with the blinds drawn, only to balk a little at Blaise's casual appearance. He even nearly laughed in disbelief, so used to seeing Blaise adorned in suits and ties, and rarely nothing less. He looked nothing like a vampire right now, nothing sinister, nothing overly expensive. Just an ordinary guy, albeit an extremely well groomed one. "Hey," he replied and approached the desk. "I got your message. Sorry I'm a bit late. I was... tied up." He just wasn't going to mention that was literally when Lucie decided it might be fun to experiment with silk scarves.
Blaise watched Riley closely and then smirked, clearing his throat as he swivelled a little in his leather chair. "Have a good night then?" he asked.
( Riley was about to sit down when he stilled, looking at Blaise as a small blush crept into his cheeks and then he threw his hands up... )
Word Count | 7,002
After Juliette's little impromptu de-robed art session, Blaise was now sitting back at his desk, but this time dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a silver casual button-up shirt. He wasn't out on business, and he had the luxury of dressing down around his home. He realised that Buffy hadn't seen him like this, and nor had Sergeant Finn, who had just appeared at the office door, knocking lightly on the door jamb. Blaise waved him in, having already asked Buffy here after receiving news on Rory Buchanan. "Sergeant Finn," he greeted him with a smile. "Entrez, merci."
Riley started to enter the ornate office with the blinds drawn, only to balk a little at Blaise's casual appearance. He even nearly laughed in disbelief, so used to seeing Blaise adorned in suits and ties, and rarely nothing less. He looked nothing like a vampire right now, nothing sinister, nothing overly expensive. Just an ordinary guy, albeit an extremely well groomed one. "Hey," he replied and approached the desk. "I got your message. Sorry I'm a bit late. I was... tied up." He just wasn't going to mention that was literally when Lucie decided it might be fun to experiment with silk scarves.
Blaise watched Riley closely and then smirked, clearing his throat as he swivelled a little in his leather chair. "Have a good night then?" he asked.
( Riley was about to sit down when he stilled, looking at Blaise as a small blush crept into his cheeks and then he threw his hands up... )
Word Count | 7,002
37.2. Somebody to Love - Queen
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
Each morning I get up I die a little
Can barely stand on my feet
Take a look in the mirror and cry
Lord what you're doing to me
Co-written withhisthornedrose
[Follows THIS]
It was morning again, and Blaise was sitting at the large antique mahogany desk in his office, the blinds drawn and the door closed as he concentrated on going over the whole written notes from Riley's team members in relation to Rory's attack. He was trying to see any subdued signs of what may have triggered it, but there was still a big question mark hanging over the whole thing. The case notes were useless, isolated to mere military labels and frames of mind. If anything, it was Rory himself that Blaise needed the information from. Even things like tattoos, comments, how the attackers were dressed could tell Blaise a lot.
( With a distracted sigh, he dropped the last file heavily on top of the pile beside him and pushed them all off to the side to look at Juliette... )
Word Count | 4,293
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
Each morning I get up I die a little
Can barely stand on my feet
Take a look in the mirror and cry
Lord what you're doing to me
Co-written with
histhornedrose[Follows THIS]
It was morning again, and Blaise was sitting at the large antique mahogany desk in his office, the blinds drawn and the door closed as he concentrated on going over the whole written notes from Riley's team members in relation to Rory's attack. He was trying to see any subdued signs of what may have triggered it, but there was still a big question mark hanging over the whole thing. The case notes were useless, isolated to mere military labels and frames of mind. If anything, it was Rory himself that Blaise needed the information from. Even things like tattoos, comments, how the attackers were dressed could tell Blaise a lot.
( With a distracted sigh, he dropped the last file heavily on top of the pile beside him and pushed them all off to the side to look at Juliette... )
Word Count | 4,293
9.10. I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show
Can’t Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon
Co-written withgr8muppetyodin
[Follows THIS]
It had been a long day, and luckily one Blaise and Juliette had managed to stay stuck in the military facility tying up loose ends over the attack on Rory Buchanan. The Scot's condition was still up in the air, although thankfully there had been no complications. It was such a relief to finally get back to his home, that Blaise had excused himself from their pile of houseguests and went to his quarters. He had one of his 'assistants' brought to him for sustenance to regain a little of his strength that was waning as the day came to a close. He took a long shower, thankful to be out of the suit he had been stuck in all day, and was now dressed in a pair of black silk pyjama pants and a white t-shirt that hugged his body. He was ready for rest, and had been anticipating it for most of the day, but first he had to relax and switch off. All he yearned for right then was a little bit of peace.
( He nursed a wine glass in his hand containing a fresh source of blood, though of course it was easy to be mistake as red wine... )
Word Count | 5,648
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show
Can’t Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon
Co-written with
gr8muppetyodin[Follows THIS]
It had been a long day, and luckily one Blaise and Juliette had managed to stay stuck in the military facility tying up loose ends over the attack on Rory Buchanan. The Scot's condition was still up in the air, although thankfully there had been no complications. It was such a relief to finally get back to his home, that Blaise had excused himself from their pile of houseguests and went to his quarters. He had one of his 'assistants' brought to him for sustenance to regain a little of his strength that was waning as the day came to a close. He took a long shower, thankful to be out of the suit he had been stuck in all day, and was now dressed in a pair of black silk pyjama pants and a white t-shirt that hugged his body. He was ready for rest, and had been anticipating it for most of the day, but first he had to relax and switch off. All he yearned for right then was a little bit of peace.
( He nursed a wine glass in his hand containing a fresh source of blood, though of course it was easy to be mistake as red wine... )
Word Count | 5,648
just_muse_me | 36.10. Mary O'Hara quote
Sep. 18th, 2010 08:51 pm36.10. "Love cannot survive if you just give it scraps of yourself, scraps of your time, scraps of your thoughts."
- Mary O'Hara
Co-written withgr8muppetyodin
[Follows THIS]
Buffy could only stand there in complete shock after Riley locked her in the interview room with Blaise. Then she frowned as she tried to work out if she could bust open the door, and whether or not Blaise would actually take that as another insult. It wasn't so much that she wanted to run away from him. Of course she didn't. Even if she was trying to subtly sniff herself. Surely the scents of males and sex didn't linger for more than a day... She hadn't slept with Riley since that night. At least she hadn't had sex with him. She had literally slept with him when he wasn't feeling well.
"Um," she began, but then stopped as her brain faltered in giving her anything intelligent to say. If she apologised she would probably get told to fuck off. If she didn't apologise she would be seen as rude, and arrogant. Buffy was in a no win situation and she hated the fact that she was forced to overanalyse. She also hated that there was no way to be able to talk to Blaise like she wanted to talk to him without bringing up a topic he no doubt wanted to avoid like the plague. "I'd say we should play 'I spy' but the room doesn't exactly hold much in the way of objects. How about we just play twenty questions starting with what the hell is going on here?"
( Blaise listened as a mechanical voice came through the speaker declaring 'Isolation commenced'... )
Word Count | 4,956
- Mary O'Hara
Co-written with
gr8muppetyodin[Follows THIS]
Buffy could only stand there in complete shock after Riley locked her in the interview room with Blaise. Then she frowned as she tried to work out if she could bust open the door, and whether or not Blaise would actually take that as another insult. It wasn't so much that she wanted to run away from him. Of course she didn't. Even if she was trying to subtly sniff herself. Surely the scents of males and sex didn't linger for more than a day... She hadn't slept with Riley since that night. At least she hadn't had sex with him. She had literally slept with him when he wasn't feeling well.
"Um," she began, but then stopped as her brain faltered in giving her anything intelligent to say. If she apologised she would probably get told to fuck off. If she didn't apologise she would be seen as rude, and arrogant. Buffy was in a no win situation and she hated the fact that she was forced to overanalyse. She also hated that there was no way to be able to talk to Blaise like she wanted to talk to him without bringing up a topic he no doubt wanted to avoid like the plague. "I'd say we should play 'I spy' but the room doesn't exactly hold much in the way of objects. How about we just play twenty questions starting with what the hell is going on here?"
( Blaise listened as a mechanical voice came through the speaker declaring 'Isolation commenced'... )
Word Count | 4,956
[Follows THIS]
Riley was trying desperately not to vomit as he rode the elevator up to the fourteenth floor of the military headquarters. The thing was, despite dragging Buffy along there with him knowing she needed to be there, he couldn't actually reveal anything to her. Not yet. Blaise needed to be the first to know so he could advise on the next move. Of course, Buffy was less than impressed about being kept in the dark as they had made their way through the headquarters that were so technologically advanced, it made The Initiative look like something from the Dark Ages. No bullshit voice recognition for security, it was all retinal recognition and fingerprint code pads. A lot of the staff were getting around in civilian clothing, too. Camos were really only isolated to those out in the field. Riley tended to chop and change between both depending on what he was working on. Buffy had been getting more and more pissed off by the second, demanding to know if this was some sort of joke or trick or set up, but Riley just kept telling her to wait, which probably just pissed her off more.
He had been filled in completely by Graham and the team, and although he was left reeling, he had to try and keep it together to somehow figure out what should be done here. It wasn't just a random attack. It was an attack on a Hunter, and an international one at that. It could just be a mere case of someone getting wind that Rory had been getting close to Blaise and Juliette, but who really knew? The other theory was that he was attacked in an attempt to lure Buffy in. Either way, Riley was not a happy camper.
( Buffy was next to him in the elevator with her arms firmly crossed and a deep frown on her face... )
Word Count | 7,443
Riley was trying desperately not to vomit as he rode the elevator up to the fourteenth floor of the military headquarters. The thing was, despite dragging Buffy along there with him knowing she needed to be there, he couldn't actually reveal anything to her. Not yet. Blaise needed to be the first to know so he could advise on the next move. Of course, Buffy was less than impressed about being kept in the dark as they had made their way through the headquarters that were so technologically advanced, it made The Initiative look like something from the Dark Ages. No bullshit voice recognition for security, it was all retinal recognition and fingerprint code pads. A lot of the staff were getting around in civilian clothing, too. Camos were really only isolated to those out in the field. Riley tended to chop and change between both depending on what he was working on. Buffy had been getting more and more pissed off by the second, demanding to know if this was some sort of joke or trick or set up, but Riley just kept telling her to wait, which probably just pissed her off more.
He had been filled in completely by Graham and the team, and although he was left reeling, he had to try and keep it together to somehow figure out what should be done here. It wasn't just a random attack. It was an attack on a Hunter, and an international one at that. It could just be a mere case of someone getting wind that Rory had been getting close to Blaise and Juliette, but who really knew? The other theory was that he was attacked in an attempt to lure Buffy in. Either way, Riley was not a happy camper.
( Buffy was next to him in the elevator with her arms firmly crossed and a deep frown on her face... )
Word Count | 7,443
9.1. "Action may not always bring happiness; but there is no happiness without action."
Benjamin Disraeli
Co-written withlotterylucky & naysowee
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
Rory looked at the chocolate croissant in his hand, first wondering why croissants were actually that shape, and then wondering how the hell he was going to eat it without spreading pasty from arsehole to breakfast all over the Bachelor Pad of Plenty. He probably should be wondering if Buffy would mind if he stole one of them from her stash, but he really wasn’t. She had buggered off to go buy pigeon porridge, or just run away to hide from the awkward... either way, she wasn’t here. Rory was here, and he was here with one of her chocolate croissants. The only thing was, he knew he wasn’t actually here alone. Apparently GI Joe had come home sick that morning, but other than hearing him go for a few rounds with the Porcelain Goddess in the bathroom up the hall around lunchtime, Rory hadn’t actually seen him since the morning before when he pulled a white ninja routine and left to escape the dodgy conversation.
( But he was just about to bite into the pastry when the door of the main bedroom finally opened and emitted Saving Private Ryan, who looked about as scary and intimidating as a well-worn gumboot... )
Word Count | 3,287
Benjamin Disraeli
Co-written with
lotterylucky & naysowee[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
Rory looked at the chocolate croissant in his hand, first wondering why croissants were actually that shape, and then wondering how the hell he was going to eat it without spreading pasty from arsehole to breakfast all over the Bachelor Pad of Plenty. He probably should be wondering if Buffy would mind if he stole one of them from her stash, but he really wasn’t. She had buggered off to go buy pigeon porridge, or just run away to hide from the awkward... either way, she wasn’t here. Rory was here, and he was here with one of her chocolate croissants. The only thing was, he knew he wasn’t actually here alone. Apparently GI Joe had come home sick that morning, but other than hearing him go for a few rounds with the Porcelain Goddess in the bathroom up the hall around lunchtime, Rory hadn’t actually seen him since the morning before when he pulled a white ninja routine and left to escape the dodgy conversation.
( But he was just about to bite into the pastry when the door of the main bedroom finally opened and emitted Saving Private Ryan, who looked about as scary and intimidating as a well-worn gumboot... )
Word Count | 3,287
just_muse_me | 34.2. Difficult decisions
Sep. 15th, 2010 04:03 pm34.2. Write about one of the most difficult decisions you've made in your life
Co-written withhisthornedrose
[Follows THIS]
When Blaise came home from his business dinner in the city and promptly and hungrily seduced Juliette, he didn't miss the momentary surprise in her eyes as he pounced on her. It rapidly gave way to her own hunger, though, and just like old times, they were soon wrapped up in a passionate embrace between his red silk sheets where they spent a good portion of the night away in a sexual and feeding frenzy. There was no doubt Blaise was back to full strength. It had been a long few weeks as he had more and more ailed before Juliette's eyes, to the point he all but stopped feeding save for a very little amount to just keep him alive. He knew that although she was favouring other theories, she was scared that he had come to the end of his time, just like he had thought.
( But it was almost in the blink of an eye that his strength returned... )
Word Count | 3,555
Co-written with
histhornedrose[Follows THIS]
When Blaise came home from his business dinner in the city and promptly and hungrily seduced Juliette, he didn't miss the momentary surprise in her eyes as he pounced on her. It rapidly gave way to her own hunger, though, and just like old times, they were soon wrapped up in a passionate embrace between his red silk sheets where they spent a good portion of the night away in a sexual and feeding frenzy. There was no doubt Blaise was back to full strength. It had been a long few weeks as he had more and more ailed before Juliette's eyes, to the point he all but stopped feeding save for a very little amount to just keep him alive. He knew that although she was favouring other theories, she was scared that he had come to the end of his time, just like he had thought.
( But it was almost in the blink of an eye that his strength returned... )
Word Count | 3,555
