that's interesting. (jack/lestat...closed)
Lestat sat perched atop a fire escape, sitting like a gargoyle in a frock coat, blond hair shining in the moonlight and purple eyes glittering.
This. Was. Fun.
He was watching the carnage. Precious little he could do about it... he was scanning minds for Karen, but more and more there were no actual minds to scan and he was getting nowhere. Here and there, he'd knock zombies out of the way or twist their heads off, but mostly he was watching the progress of one particular pirate... because he simply could not believe it was possible.
Captain Jack Sparrow, when all the talk of zombies began, could think of nothing better to do about the problem then get lit. So he had. He half wished he had that piece of gold again, or his stupid undead monkey... Jack feared death. He really, really did. But he could handle zombies. If he could handle immortal pirates that were partly skeletal, he could handle zombies.
And so, with unbelieveable luck, he was now winding his way through the streets, bottle in one hand, sword in the other. Anything that bothered him got its head lopped off. And as he went, Jack muttered to himself...
"'s'not even original, y'know," he said, slicing through tthe neck of a growling, shambling foe. "'s'been DONE. AND! AND! There's not even any proper treasure involved, ay!"
God, was he disappointed.
Lestat loved him. Instantly. And wanted to applaud him.
Because the captain was not, for a second, losing ground.
"Today is the day," Lestat whispered, "that you will always remember, dear undead festering piles of flesh, as the day you almost bit Captain Jack Sparrow."