city_limits_npc (city_limits_npc) wrote in city_limits, @ 2009-04-01 23:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | npc |
Bigger Mouths Than Brains
As if Francis didn't already have enough to worry about with Professor Worboys on her case about trying to be both a Slayer and a student, now her Watcher gave her word there was a vampire in the Denver area picking off teenage girls. Logan had suspected the first three victims were Slayers, even if the girls themselves hadn't necessarily been aware -- the shortcomings of the Council at work. Police investigations into the bedroom of the latest victim, a 17-year-old named Keisha, revealed a drawer of wooden stakes and a journal talking of creepy dreams.
Dreams of girls fighting vampires. Logan guessed that made her a Slayer, but given what else he managed to read in her journal -- a contact within the police department allowed him to read what was otherwise considered evidence in a murder investigation -- he guessed she wasn't entirely aware. Francis could feel her stomach churn at the thought; for a vampire to best a Slayer in the course of a fight was one thing, that was just the way things worked in the world. But for one of those bloodsuckers to pick off girls who didn't know what their destiny truly held ... well, that seemed awful cowardly.
Logan said his research showed him a vampire who fancied the one once called William the Bloody. Francis hated that comparison; she'd read as much as she could about Spike in recent weeks, but nothing she saw told her he was the sort of vampire to just pick off the easy ones. Still, a worshipper or copycat was potential bad news, and the Slayer's eyes were all over the place as she wandered through the Denver night. Snow flakes were starting to fall, an early sign of the season to come. Francis hated wearing her bulky brown coat when on patrol -- it restricted her movement -- but she couldn't slay if her extremities were frostbitten.
The sooner she found this vampire, the better. She had a Middle Eastern Religions final to study for.
He didn't like the cold. It wasn't an obstacle for him the way it was for most, but he despised it all the same. Winter, while having its advantages, also came with a slew of disadvantages. Less people went out; instead, they chose to hide in their cozy little homes, with fireplaces or central heating, and television was their portal to the great wide world. When Diego fed off a city inspector, for instance, he had been out in the night air for hours. His skin was chilled, nose dripping pathetically. The vampire half-expected the blood to be coagulated, as well.
"After this, I'm going to Arizona," he told himself. "Sun be damned."
Hearing a voice around the corner, Francis slowed her steps to a near-stop, leaning up against the brick wall of the building. Stealth had never been one of the Slayer's strengths ... then again, there wasn't much stealth needed in waiting for vampires to rise from their graves and staking them before they got all the way out of the ground. Peering over the corner, and doing her best to not be seen just yet, Francis saw a black leather tranchcoat and a full head of dark hair. The coat's owner appeared to be Hispanic in origin, and when the wind shifted direction, she saw he carried a smell of death as well.
Vampire. One who just fed.
Francis tightened the grip on her stake, taking a deep breath. Was this the one Logan told her about? He certainly was trying to look like William the Bloody -- even if he hadn't nuked his hair to death. Even if this wasn't the one who killed Keisha, the Slayer knew he was a vampire, and that made her next decision rather simple. Francis knew what she had to do, and she had never been bashful about it.
As much as bulky clothing would allow, the brunette jumped from the corner and lunged toward the vampire, stake raised into the air. Tackling the creature, Francis grabbed his coat with her free hand and tugged, hoping the vampire would hit his head on the ground upon impact.
"Hi there," she growled as she jammed the dull end of her stake against the vampire's nose. "You look new here. I hope you're a skier, cause really ... who else would visit Denver in late November?"
He found himself in a staring contest with the girl, his vampiric visage inches away from her face. "I just love hitting the slopes," Diego told her, before knocking the stake away. It clattered and rolled on the ground, and the vampire used the distraction to knock his head into hers, the objective to cause disorientation and, of course, pain. "I suppose I'm not used to the thing I'm looking for leaping out at me so unexpectedly. It's a pleasant surprise, don't get me wrong. I guess I just imagined you to be sharper, is all. Not so ... L.L. Bean." He gestured vaguely at her midsection before drawing back his hand and punching her in the stomach.
Rolling with the punch and using the momentum to her advantage -- and finding that did little to keep the punch from hurting -- Francis rolled back to her feet before colliding her right foot with the vampire's face in a roundhouse kick. "Least I'm not Abercrombie," she mused. "Then I might have to kill myself."
Grabbing the tail of the vampire's coat as he twirled from her kick and giving a good yank, Francis grinned when the vampire slammed his back into the brick wall. Always smart enough to carry a second stake, the Slayer produced it before closing the distance between them, headbutting the vampire before shoving her left knee between his legs.
"So," she added, "you were looking for me, huh? Finally decided you wanted a challenge?"
"I could do it for you," Diego offered. "I mean, I will anyway, but at least you can pretend it was your decision." He flashed her a toothy grin, barely dodging her blows. He shook his head at the knee maneuver. "If your Watcher taught you that, I'd trade in. You could just watch re-runs of the Lifetime channel." The vampire reached out with a left hook, catching her in the face even as his head throbbed. She had spunk, that much was certain, but that only made things more fun for him.
"A Slayer, any one at all ... you're all the same to me. Little girls with bigger mouths than brains."
"Does your hero know you stole his coat?" Francis quipped, figuring even without a formal introduction this was the one Logan warned her about. Diego, she thought his name was -- there was the temptation of a Dora the Explorer joke, but the vampire's idolization of what used to be one of the world's most vicious vampires was more than enough ammunition for belittlement.
The punch was anything but surprising, and Francis couldn't help but laugh, even as her cheek throbbed. She responded with an elbow to the vampire's neck, even though she knew it wouldn't really do much since Diego didn't need to breathe. The move was more a way to help set up her next attack: grabbing the vampire under his right shoulder, using the leverage from an open stance to flip the creature over her shoulder and watch him slam against the pavement on the sidewalk. Once he was prone on the ground, Francis kicked him in the side and dropped her knee over his chest.
"Too bad the Big Bad ain't so bad anymore," she whispered, backhanding Diego across his chin.
"And what would you know about that?" Diego rubbed his chin, spitting blood onto the concrete. "That isn't the vampire you should be worrying about right now. And if I were you?" He grinned bloodily, using his arms to launch the Slayer off of him. "I'd shut up and fight." Once he regained his footing, he lashed out with a kick to her head.
"Young girl, living in this town, I have to wonder ... what are you fighting for? There's the sense of duty that you all like to talk up, but what do you have? Family? Friends?" The vampire leered over her. "A boyfriend? You do know you'll lose them all, don't you? If they don't lose you first, that is." His hand shot out, palm colliding with her nose in an upward swoop.
That was new ... Francis had never been on the receiving end of an uppercut before, and as the blood trickled from her nostril over her upper lip, the Slayer had to admit, she wasn't a big fan. She shook off the pain, though, snarling at the monster before she dropped to her knees to sweep the vampire's feet out from under him. From there, she rolled over her right side, landing atop Diego again and grabbing at the leather draped off his shoulders.
"It's called being human," she argued, grabbing Diego's right arm and twisting it at the elbow, just enough to hear the satisfying snap of bone. She knew he'd have a higher pain tolerance than most, but a broken bone was a broken bone, no matter whether someone was a vampire or not. "I'd say try it sometime, but you're beyond help in that regard."
She ignored the veiled swipe at her Watcher/boyfriend, knowing that getting emotional wouldn't help her in this fight. She had to remain cool and in control -- Francis thrived in making her adversaries make mistakes, and she planned to do just that.
"Gotta say ... he's got better hair than you. Even if it did come out of a bottle."
He grunted through his fangs, teeth grit against each other as his arm was rent in an unnatural angle. "You fool yourself if you think you're human," Diego told her, pushing her roughly and backing away. "Not human like they are." A sweep of his head to the noises of the city beyond the alley. "You'll find out, soon enough. They're afraid of the unknown, and they can't understand what makes a girl so strong, so capable of destruction and death, that makes you any different from me."
The vampire crept back, into the shadows, his eyes never leaving hers. He hated the retreat, but he had something special in mind for her. A little, grimy place like this wasn't worthy of either of them.
Francis followed as she saw the vampire retreat, determined not to let him slither off this way. If Diego was in fact picking off unwitting Slayers, he was bad news, and she didn't enjoy the thought of another sunrise with that creep still skulking about. If Francis had half a mind, she'd track him all night and stake him, Eastern Religions final be damned.
But as she cut through the alley and slipped around the corner, the Slayer's gaze was met only with darkness. It didn't matter where she looked -- up, down, side to side -- Diego was gone. Francis sighed and punched the brick wall to her immediate left, feeling blood begin to trickle down her knuckles.
"Dammit!"
In the anger of letting the vampire get away, the Slayer almost forgot his words. Not human like they are ... so capable of destruction and death ... was any of that true? Was Diego telling the truth, or was he just mouthing off and grandstanding like so many of his kind loved to do? It almost didn't matter which, because Francis just wanted his dust in her fireplace, but that didn't make it any easier to ignore.
She'd have to talk to Logan about it. After she failed her exam.
[NPC Diego was written by Jessica; NPC Francis was written by Jeff.]