Matthew Heller (nocoffee) wrote in ridgewayresort, @ 2010-05-17 16:27:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | dracula, faith lehane |
Who: “Matthew” and Faith
When: Tonight, after Faith gets off work at the club.
Where: Somewhere with not a whole lot of people.
What: Faith patrols. Dracula observes.
Rating: Not high.
Status: Incomplete.
Those videos had been amusing. It was always hilarious, the way mortals had such inflated ideas of their own importance. Whoever that fool in the cape was, Judas would not deign to call him Dracula. To claim some connection merely because someone was a Slayer was…Judas was torn between amusing and idiotic. He had been alive for two thousand years. He was at the crucifixion, he was the reason for it. He watched as that carpenter everyone was so fond of heaping worship onto soiled himself in his last moments. He was there when the pagans burned the Christians, and centuries later he was there when the Christians returned the favor in a tiny little village on a tiny little slice of earth in a country not even truly born yet. He was there when a madman appointed a literal ass to the highest governance in Rome, he was there when the Goths sacked the capital and the empire burned to ash. He was there at the opera when a giant was shot for daring to rule justly, he was there at Adolf Hitler’s first political rally, and he was there on the steps when a gentle Reverend was murdered by those that feared his message.
What were Slayers? Tragically short-lived children with some minor empowerment, more impermanent than the cattle they protected. What importance did a Slayer have to a being that would be alive when the bones of the planet were less than dust? Judas had little interest in the title. The girls that bore them, however…. There was something – or someones, rather – that interested him.
After his first chat with Faith in his office, he’d watched the movie, the television series, and even perused a few of the comics. He found most of the comics laughable, the film was so bad that for a moment he thought he might actually vomit, and the television series…inconsistent. It had moments of brilliance, but also had moments of deep stupidity. In the end, he found his inferior doppelganger’s taste to be decidedly lacking. Buffy was accomplished, of that there was no doubt, but as the title of Slayer held no special meaning to him there wasn’t much more than a grudging respect for her mettle, which was still more than Judas gave to most people. He also thought she and Van Helsing would get along rather well, which soured his opinion on her overall.
Initially, what he saw of Faith in the series made him question his original evaluation of her. Was there really anything there of interest? A generic rebellious youth, they were a dime a dozen in every generation. However, as he watched, he grew more engrossed in her personal timeline. Going through a deep trauma, abandoned by those who were supposed to be her friends until it was too late for their token efforts to make a difference, lashing out in what Judas interpreted as hopelessness…. These were things he could understand on a deeply personal level. He had been there, just after the crucifixion, when the other disciples began demonizing him for his role despite it all being God’s will. It still hurt, all these years later, that his friends would abandon him and turn him into a monster in their books of propaganda. Perhaps that was why he had become one? To teach them to be very, very careful what they unleashed. Or perhaps the pain and rage twisted him until he was what they said. He couldn't really remember, after so long.
Still, there was something else about Faith that interested him, that drew her in his mind from simply a thing of mild interest to something that sparked one of Dracula’s notorious fixations. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, or at least wasn’t willing to admit to himself what it might be. Not yet, at any rate.
Perhaps that was why he was observing her. Not from afar, though she would not know it. He was spread out at the moment, giving the appearance that this was nothing more than a natural mist off the lake rather than anything more substantial. At the same time, he slowly worked on the environment so that it would produce its own mist. It would look very telling if he was to reform and the mist disappeared. While he was slowly providing a few clues to his fellow employees as to his true identity, he didn’t want it to be discovered in one single moment. No, he wanted most of them to be kicking themselves over not seeing it sooner. It was always that reaction that pleased him the most.
She still patrolled. Though she was not employed as general security, she still patrolled after her shifts at the Ice Room. What was she looking for? Thus far, the only vampires that were here were the docile variety – that she knew of, at least. He hadn’t started feeding on guests yet, though if his fellow employees didn’t figure it out soon he very probably would. Not to the point of death, of course, but enough that there would be a telltale sign. So what else could she be looking for? A demon? He knew of no infernals here, though he had a feeling there was a celestial about. It was just a hunch, for the moment. Perhaps she wasn’t really looking for anything? It could simply be an excuse to take a walk.
Quite suddenly, he decided he wanted to know. He waited until she was looking away to reform, close enough that she could turn around and drive a stake through his heart if she desired it. Not that her wooden stakes would do anything but tickle, but still. He was wearing darker colors tonight. A dark blue hooded sweatshirt, black t-shirt, blue jeans, and the same beat up chucks as before. The hood wasn’t up and his hands were in the pockets of the sweatshirt. The mist remained about, though if someone inspected it closely they might be able to tell it was a little thinner than it had been a moment ago. “Pleasant night, huh?”