WHO: Toru, vampire army squad, everyone involved in Plan: Not Crazy Honest WHAT: It's recon time. WHEN: Sunset WHERE: An abandoned club RATING: warnings for violence and bitchy vampires STATUS: In progress [ooc: again, go nuts with the sub threads and feel free to play with the squad as much as you want!]
The theory was simple at least. Divide into teams, each team followed their leader, get in, get the info, get out. No casualties. No wounded. That was the idea. But waiting outside the club, feeling that adrenaline start to kick in, the doubts started to creep into her mind. Faith took a deep breath and tried to focus, attempting the various techniques Sarah had taught her. Center her mind on the battle ahead. Push other emotions aside. Like her heartbreak over Kyle. It had been the right thing to do, better for them both in the long run. But right now it still hurt like a bitch.
Faith looked around at the allies gathered, taking a brief second to glance at each of their faces. Good people, all of them. Many were also her friends. Inwardly she prayed to a god she didn't have faith in that they'd get out of this ok, her fingers twisting over the silver cross on a chain around her neck.
They each knew their teams. There was little more to say except..
"Let's get this going."
She nodded firmly before getting out her stake and heading towards the door.
Inside Toru lounged on a large comfy chair, a playful smirk over his extended fangs as he tossed aside the body of his meal. Kumiko had called him to warn him what the stars were saying, an imminent attack on his base.
Let them come.
He looked around at the assorted vampires he had with him, each starting to wake up ready for anew night of slaughter.
"We're about to have company boys and girls," he called out in a sing song tone.
They were good, his army. Unkillable of course, thanks to dear old Dracula getting drunk and spilling all those delicious secrets. This would be fun. And he was, well not dying, to show off his toys.
Lazily he reached down, pulling up the severed head of a 16 year old girl and throwing it the air and catching it with a laugh. Another Slayer, dead by his hand. And rumor had it this one had run with the Brat before she had left and he had ripped the girl's throat out.
His gaze flicked towards the door as he stayed on his chair, a king on his little throne, as he waited for the fun to arrive.