|Malachi (azazealsheir) wrote in zombieslogs,|
@ 2012-12-19 15:38:00
|Entry tags:||malachi, phoebe halliwell|
Who: Malachi and Phoebe
What: meeting in person
Where: outside the prison
Warnings: Obnoxious flirting on Malachi's side, but I think that is about it.
Azazeal had warned Malachi to be cautious in their new location. While it hadn't bothered him with how he decided to handle the Buffy situation, he knew his son well enough to know that Malachi would be curious about those outside of their immediate proximity. It probably hadn't helped when Malachi had made it clear he didn't want his father playing any of his games with Phoebe. She was a fascinating witch who lived inside the prison. Malachi was eager to meet her, and he didn't want to share with his father. Azazeal's fascination with witches was completely different than his son. There was a reason he wanted his boy to be a McBain after all.
Malachi didn't head out until it was in the early afternoon. Hours before the sun went down and Buffy would be looking for him. He'd made sure she had been able to feed well from him, so he wasn't worried about her needing to go out looking for humans. Between him and Azazeal, they could easily keep her satisfied with anything she needed. That would keep her from picking a fight with those responsible for taking her creator away. If she continued on the path of rage, no matter how righteous she believed it was, she was going to get killed.
The walk out of the projects and to the prison was pleasant enough. The moaning of the zombies was something he ignored unless one or two came up wanting to bite. No thank you. He only liked to be bitten on his terms. Laying waste to them was easy enough. He simply continued with his walk.
When he was close to the prison, he used his telepathy to call out to Phoebe's mind. Phoebe, it's Malachi. I'm about to approach the gate of the prison and hopefully convince the people with guns not to shoot me. This may go smoother if you could come out and vouch for me. I'm not planning to ask for permission to come inside.
With his hands up in a dramatic fashion he'd found amusing in old movies, he smiled charmingly at the sentries. "Hello, and good day. I'm here to see Phoebe Halliwell, and I intend no harm. In fact, I'm going to stand right here with my hands where you can see them until she comes out to greet me."
See, he could be perfectly nice. People shouldn't be so quick to assume the worst of those who live outside the prison walls.