(no subject)

[borntostand.livejournal.com]

[Kate appears near the desk she dragged to the Plane so long ago; she looks much paler than usual, and she's dressed in old flannel pajamas instead of her usual slacks and button-downs

she's also desperately clutching a cross to her unmoving chest, staring at her hand while it burns]

((Kate's gonna be a vampire for a week. :D This means: no heartbeat, or any other bodily function; her mind cannot be read; she won't smell like much of anything, except for blood and death.)

She still has a soul, though!))

Comments

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

[Drusilla rather likes it on the Plane. It's much more peaceful than Sunnydale. The music from the stars is so beautiful, and, more importantly, there is no Slayer around to spoil her fun.

Or stop her making new friends.]

A newborn little vampire.

[Her voice is rather musical, and she steps closer to Kate. Not too close, though. Not until the cross is gone.]

You're going to hurt yourself.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

[humming to himself as he toys around with a new timey-wimey gadget that does jiggery-pokery stuff, then notices her hand burning]

You all right?

[fireintothesky.livejournal.com]

[dkljf Henrietta grabs the cross and tries to yank it away.] Signorina, your hand!

[borntostand.livejournal.com]

[jerks back, head snapping up]

Yeah. Yeah, that's sort of the point.

[her eyes narrow slightly, because there's something...something almost...

she shakes her head, rapid and sharp]

[borntostand.livejournal.com]

[raises her head, slowly, before shaking it]

No. Not really. [quiet, tremulous laugh] Can't breath.

[borntostand.livejournal.com]

[her eyes widen, hand slipping away as her other goes for a gun that isn't there - and then she relaxes, a bit]

I know. [turns her hand around, looking at the marks]

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

All alone.

[She remains where she is, tilting her head to study Kate.]

Where's your Sire? They should look after you. Daddy always looked after me.

[borntostand.livejournal.com]

[a deep scowl, and she takes another step back]

There isn't one. This isn't...

[a-pretty-fire.livejournal.com]

You must have a Sire. Who drank your blood and gave you theirs? You must have a Mummy or Daddy. A family.