oh dat app
OOC:
Name: Scar
Are you over 16?: Yes
Personal LJ: kneeeesup
Email: empressionisms@gmail.com
Timezone: GMT
Other contact: spinemucks
Characters already in the game: n/a
How did you find us?: Played here once before!
IC:
Character name: Barry
Fandom: Vassalord
Timeline: Chapter 18; in the midst of the stripping of his father's powers from him.
Age: Uh, it's difficult to say precisely. Physically, he was cloned sometime during the medieval period (I would imagine), so that would make him around 500 years old. Appearance-wise, his favourite and usual face is that of a 20-something year old. Spiritually? He's been alive since the demon Belial first came to be, which depending on which religious direction you choose to take as fact could be anywhere from the dawn of time to whenever Satan started brooding demon babies. Basically: Very old.
~*Magical*~ abilities and strengths: Barry is an incubus, the cloned 'son' of the demon Belial. Depending on what source you consult that either makes him a Crown Prince of Hell, an allusion to a torrent of death or even Satan himself, but one thing rings true across all references. He isn't something you want to mess with.
As an incubus, Barry inherited many supernatural abilities. Key to his effectiveness, he can tap into a person's desires, understand them intuitively and then use them against an individual in order to take what he wants from them. He is also capable of changing his appearance in accordance with the knowledge he gains from the understanding of a person's desires and nature. Combined, he can use these abilities to appear to a person either in sleeping or waking, coaxing them with a vision of their desires and, if he calls their name once and they answer, accept this as an invitation to enter into their home and do exactly what he will. (To site a few examples of these abilities being used in slightly different contexts - Barry manipulated Rayflo into welcoming him inside by impersonating Cherry and offering him a confession of love, only to then defile him in a number of horrible ways; taking on the appearance of a young child, he tries to trick Cherry into handing him the wounded Minear in order to finish her off; discovering that Cherry's faith came initially from Rayflo's days as a priest, Barry shifts his appearance to mimic Rayflo's priest days while trying to lure Cherry under his thumb and gain from him the knowledge of his true name.)
On top of this, Barry seems to have the abilities of a usual vampire of the Vassalord world. He can transport himself quickly and efficiently by means of separating out into a swarm of bats, heals easily from any injury whether big or small and is powerful enough to slice through flesh and bone with his bare hands. Reverting into batswarm and back helps him to change his appearance as well as clear any blemishes or bloodstains from his skin/repair clothes etcetc.
He has two little creatures (roughly the size of a two pence piece), one of which acts as a camera and the other as a screen. Through them, he can see and hear whatever the creature itself is seeing and hearing. These are probably creatures created from his own blood, not unlike Rayflo's maids who seem to disappear into his bloodstream whenever he doesn't need them around. Barry usually keeps his with him, however, rather than recall them. He tends to send the 'camera' off following around whoever he wants to keep an eye on or tracking a person down.
Above and beyond other vampires and incubus, however, Barry can survive even decapitation or a direct blow to the heart. Chop his head off? His body will hop up and slice off your arm, then wander over and grab up his head so the two can fuse back together again. It's a little bizarre.
His immortality is such that you can only really be rid of him by saying his true name (a.k.a the name of the demon Belial) and banishing him back to Hell.
How would they use their abilities?: Manipulation, degradation, the fulfilment of his own whims and amusements. One thing's for sure, there will be no charitable use of power from this particular demon. Likelihood is he'll be one highly unpleasant, highly sadistic, highly self-centred troll.
Appearance: Whenever not taking on the form of someone else entirely, Barry's main characteristics are long, braided white hair, black eyes framed by a whole lot of lashes and a soft immovable smile. Providing he's not masquerading as a woman or small child, his usual appearance is that of a strapping young man, though his height and apparent age have a habit of fluctuating between those of a late teen and a fully grown twenty-something-year-old man. If it's any help, he's described by pretty much everyone who sees him as an 'angel'. No matter his form, he is always abnormally beautiful (probably in reference to the demon Belial's usual appearance as two angels in a chariot.)
Background/Personality:"BELIAL came last, then whom a Spirit more lewd
Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love
Vice for it self: To him no Temple stood
Or Altar smoak'd; yet who more oft then hee
In Temples and at Altars, when the Priest
Turns Atheist, as did ELY'S Sons, who fill'd
With lust and violence the house of God.
In Courts and Palaces he also Reigns
And in luxurious Cities, where the noyse
Of riot ascends above thir loftiest Towrs,
And injury and outrage: And when Night
Darkens the Streets, then wander forth the Sons
Of BELIAL, flown with insolence and wine.
Witness the Streets of SODOM, and that night
In GIBEAH, when hospitable Dores
Yielded thir Matrons to prevent worse rape."
--John Milton, “Paradise Lost”, Book I
Have you ever had a dream of unspeakable vulgarity? Played out in your sleep a fantasy too taboo to ever mention aloud? Was the partner in your dream a seductive, beautiful woman? A strapping young man? A stranger of unknown nature? Or perhaps you had someone particular in mind, someone special. In any case, there's only really one important thing to remember: if that person calls your name only once, don't answer. Whatever experiences they might offer, whatever face they show you, the benefits you'll reap aren't worth welcoming in the monster who will lie with you.
Back in the ages of dungeons and dragons, a fight between two kingdoms had produced a clear victor. Somewhere near the closure of a great many years of fighting, the losing battle had wormed its way to the epicentre of the losing kingdom's domain - and right onto the doorstep of Marie, a young princess trapped on the losing side. For her and her people, all hopes of turnaround had been long since dead. In this time of dire straights and desperation however, one loyal knight fought on. Rayflo, Marie's most loyal defender, accepted the aid of a powerful demon, chasing after the slightest hope that he could use it's power to save her. The demon, infatuated with the sheer idea of a knight of such noble majesty falling into its putrid corruption, had the knight make a vow of an eternal bond in return for a gift of vampiric abilities.
This is where Barry's story begins. The demon, encapsulated, had duties in its own realm yet couldn't sway its obsession with Rayflo. In need of another way to ensure their bond remained permanent, it created a clone of itself to stay with the man on earth: a white-haired, angel-faced devil of a man. Barry.
Barry rides into the series on the back of Rayflo's greatest desire, a confession of love from his not!lover not!son pseudo-lover-son cyborg vampire friend, Chris. Or Charley/Cherry/Charles, if you prefer. Wearing Chris' face, Barry manipulates the man into welcoming him inside, and no sooner is he there then Rayflo is on the floor, a hand wrapped around his throat and his concerned maid and her carving knife batted away like flies. It's not long before aforementioned carving knife is thrust straight through Rayflo's hands and into the floor leaving Barry to idly ponder the pros and cons of ripping off Rayflo's (or Addy as he's affectionately nicknamed by Barry in what is presumably a reference to his position of 'Adam', prototype to the vampires cloned from him) limbs as he once again adopts Chris' face, knowing full well that it would horrify Rayflo just to see him wear it.
One rape, psychological screw-over and complete internal organ decimation later, it's safe to say that Barry's bad news. Not only does he take pleasure in digesting the entrails of and psychologically tormenting another individual, but that individual just happens to be the sole reason for his existence. Barry lives for, and because of, Rayflo. He states clearly during one of their meetings that, for the sake of being with Rayflo, he doesn't care whether he's the hunter or the hunted. He would readily surrender his position as chaser to become the hunted down and eaten alive for this man, and yet he takes very real pleasure in making his life a living nightmare. Every step Rayflo takes, Barry follows a step behind. For hundreds of years Barry's life has consisted solely of making Rayflo's hell. Their games with each other are vicious; Rayflo attempts to escape Barry's notice, Barry shows up for a 'meal' and traumatises him using the face of his would-be lover; Rayflo suggests a 'challenging game' and soon Barry's head goes rolling across the floor. Point of notice, he's alive a chapter later: Barry gives not a care.
Barry is brutal. A savage beast with the face of an angel, he'll announce his love with the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows down your liver. Always smiling, ever polite, he'll weave a web of casual words and false impressions and leave a check for the cleaning bill when he's left your innards splayed over the sheets and dragged up the wall. He exists to seduce and to smother, thrives on that little place in the human heart which needs the lust and the filth and the wretched desire. If he takes a little soul as payment, a little flesh and blood? Well, call it commission.
It's not that he doesn't care. It's not as though it didn't faze him when the man whose heart he just nonchalantly devoured begged constantly for mercy from the moment he first wrapped his fingers around that skinny neck. Rather, he revels in it. Barry isn't a being who can be constrained or explained by the confines of human emotion or morality. He was born a demon and remains, always, a demon. Love is not love but obsession and compulsion, anger doesn't have space to form for Barry makes no bonds whose betrayal could jeopardise his ego. Happiness comes in the contentment of a man well fooled and a body well drained. Sadness doesn't have a space, for he takes what he wants when he wants it and its a rare day that anyone has the initiative to get in the way of that. Representing carnal and base urges, Barry does as he pleases and takes no prisoners.
Keeping his tone polite and his conversation genial, he blends easily into the crowd of humanity. Without shame, Barry sees no wrong in utilising this to get close in order to tease or to tear apart. He'll change his appearance to that of a small child in order to fool an honest man, appear as a beautiful woman to lure the scum; he's a face for everyone, and he sees no qualms in using them.
Perhaps the most troubling thing about him is that, despite his malicious nature, despite the things he feeds off of, the pleasure he gleans from it is presented as the pleasure of a playful but altogether very rational individual. There's no monstrous gloating, no hurling of bodies and certainly no hideous transformations to insinuate as to his demonic nature. He'll steal a piece of spine and hold it hostage as a friend might steal the keys to the car your dad wasn't supposed to know you borrowed last night, wave it in front of your face as an object of taunt and teasing. He'll smile honestly in the face of insult, never more happy than when he hears the sight of him makes a person sick. He'll ask casual questions and comment on the weather while languidly eating a woman alive. No psychosis to support the hideous things he does, simply the steady fact of his existence.
Have you read up on how the game works?: Sure have! FlamingFerret; missions, mooching and theft.
1st person sample: [the video flickers on, blank, and the darkness shifts once, twice before the obstruction moves away and a pair of lips and a chin come into view, at the bottom of the image, matted fluff presses against the lens.]
Hmm.
[a few moments and the image jogs again, descends into a flash of white and red and dark blue, and then steadies on a face
a rather regal face, actually, framed by bright white hair and wearing a soft smile. his dark eyes are focused on the screen.]
I wonder if someone might be kind enough to offer me a helping hand. I'd like a guide to my room, if anyone's willing; our hosts prove less than obliging, and my sense of direction really isn't what it could be at the moment. Also, if anyone happens to meet a man by the name of Johnny Rayflo, please tell him Barry's waiting. He's a dear friend of mine, and he was with me just before-- well, I'm worried about him.
[the camera shifts yet again, this time allowing for a view of something dark dried into and matting the fur of his collar and the length of his long white braid, a flash of the skin at his neck hidden behind a green cravat. a droplet of something falls to partially obscure the view and he wipes it away with a thumb]
A change of clothes might be nice, too, if anyone has any to spare.
3rd person sample: How dull. The nearby small market sector, usually a hive of such activity, seemed lifeless tonight. Its usual bustling merriment had descended into the slow and slinking drawl of shopping for necessity. Barry watched silently, his fingers dragging lazily up and down the thigh of his bedmate. If he hadn't been previously engaged, he might have wandered down there to offer some poor tired soul a little spice for their evening, but as it was--
Behind him, the muffled murmur of a person stirring. Barry blinked, and the image of the marketplace vanished from behind his eyes.
“Oh. You're awake.” From where he sat, Barry looked down on the waking girl as she smiled her assent. She was tousled, both from sleep and what had come before it, and her cheeks glowed slightly under his stare. He sat there for a few moments more, considering her, before she found enough purchase in waking to look back at him.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, and she nodded sleepily, slowly pushing herself up onto her elbows. Barry's hand moved up to lightly catch her chin and she blinked dazedly at him as he regarded her face.
“You have such lovely eyes.” That was compliment enough for her. The girl positively swooned, and Barry took the opportunity to lean forward and place a tender kiss over each eyelid. A crack. A slurp. A quiet little squelch and he leaned back just as the girl uttered a bewildered semi-mewl.
Oh, the steady torrent of blood colouring her cheek did wonders for her complexion. He couldn't help but admire it as he licked his lips clean, index finger coming up to make quick work of a stray fleck that had landed on his chin. He hummed, satisfied. “The flavour's something, too. And they're soft, like blueberries.”
The girl screamed, the sound a flattering combination both of pain and terrible understanding, and Barry brought his hand lazily down against her chest. She was silent.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he moved in for another taste, he made a note to play with girls more often. They really did have a certain sweetness to their flavour.
Questions?: Nope!
Did you put your characters name and fandom in the subject: A-YUP.
Name: Scar
Are you over 16?: Yes
Personal LJ: kneeeesup
Email: empressionisms@gmail.com
Timezone: GMT
Other contact: spinemucks
Characters already in the game: n/a
How did you find us?: Played here once before!
IC:
Character name: Barry
Fandom: Vassalord
Timeline: Chapter 18; in the midst of the stripping of his father's powers from him.
Age: Uh, it's difficult to say precisely. Physically, he was cloned sometime during the medieval period (I would imagine), so that would make him around 500 years old. Appearance-wise, his favourite and usual face is that of a 20-something year old. Spiritually? He's been alive since the demon Belial first came to be, which depending on which religious direction you choose to take as fact could be anywhere from the dawn of time to whenever Satan started brooding demon babies. Basically: Very old.
~*Magical*~ abilities and strengths: Barry is an incubus, the cloned 'son' of the demon Belial. Depending on what source you consult that either makes him a Crown Prince of Hell, an allusion to a torrent of death or even Satan himself, but one thing rings true across all references. He isn't something you want to mess with.
As an incubus, Barry inherited many supernatural abilities. Key to his effectiveness, he can tap into a person's desires, understand them intuitively and then use them against an individual in order to take what he wants from them. He is also capable of changing his appearance in accordance with the knowledge he gains from the understanding of a person's desires and nature. Combined, he can use these abilities to appear to a person either in sleeping or waking, coaxing them with a vision of their desires and, if he calls their name once and they answer, accept this as an invitation to enter into their home and do exactly what he will. (To site a few examples of these abilities being used in slightly different contexts - Barry manipulated Rayflo into welcoming him inside by impersonating Cherry and offering him a confession of love, only to then defile him in a number of horrible ways; taking on the appearance of a young child, he tries to trick Cherry into handing him the wounded Minear in order to finish her off; discovering that Cherry's faith came initially from Rayflo's days as a priest, Barry shifts his appearance to mimic Rayflo's priest days while trying to lure Cherry under his thumb and gain from him the knowledge of his true name.)
On top of this, Barry seems to have the abilities of a usual vampire of the Vassalord world. He can transport himself quickly and efficiently by means of separating out into a swarm of bats, heals easily from any injury whether big or small and is powerful enough to slice through flesh and bone with his bare hands. Reverting into batswarm and back helps him to change his appearance as well as clear any blemishes or bloodstains from his skin/repair clothes etcetc.
He has two little creatures (roughly the size of a two pence piece), one of which acts as a camera and the other as a screen. Through them, he can see and hear whatever the creature itself is seeing and hearing. These are probably creatures created from his own blood, not unlike Rayflo's maids who seem to disappear into his bloodstream whenever he doesn't need them around. Barry usually keeps his with him, however, rather than recall them. He tends to send the 'camera' off following around whoever he wants to keep an eye on or tracking a person down.
Above and beyond other vampires and incubus, however, Barry can survive even decapitation or a direct blow to the heart. Chop his head off? His body will hop up and slice off your arm, then wander over and grab up his head so the two can fuse back together again. It's a little bizarre.
His immortality is such that you can only really be rid of him by saying his true name (a.k.a the name of the demon Belial) and banishing him back to Hell.
How would they use their abilities?: Manipulation, degradation, the fulfilment of his own whims and amusements. One thing's for sure, there will be no charitable use of power from this particular demon. Likelihood is he'll be one highly unpleasant, highly sadistic, highly self-centred troll.
Appearance: Whenever not taking on the form of someone else entirely, Barry's main characteristics are long, braided white hair, black eyes framed by a whole lot of lashes and a soft immovable smile. Providing he's not masquerading as a woman or small child, his usual appearance is that of a strapping young man, though his height and apparent age have a habit of fluctuating between those of a late teen and a fully grown twenty-something-year-old man. If it's any help, he's described by pretty much everyone who sees him as an 'angel'. No matter his form, he is always abnormally beautiful (probably in reference to the demon Belial's usual appearance as two angels in a chariot.)
Background/Personality:"BELIAL came last, then whom a Spirit more lewd
Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love
Vice for it self: To him no Temple stood
Or Altar smoak'd; yet who more oft then hee
In Temples and at Altars, when the Priest
Turns Atheist, as did ELY'S Sons, who fill'd
With lust and violence the house of God.
In Courts and Palaces he also Reigns
And in luxurious Cities, where the noyse
Of riot ascends above thir loftiest Towrs,
And injury and outrage: And when Night
Darkens the Streets, then wander forth the Sons
Of BELIAL, flown with insolence and wine.
Witness the Streets of SODOM, and that night
In GIBEAH, when hospitable Dores
Yielded thir Matrons to prevent worse rape."
--John Milton, “Paradise Lost”, Book I
Have you ever had a dream of unspeakable vulgarity? Played out in your sleep a fantasy too taboo to ever mention aloud? Was the partner in your dream a seductive, beautiful woman? A strapping young man? A stranger of unknown nature? Or perhaps you had someone particular in mind, someone special. In any case, there's only really one important thing to remember: if that person calls your name only once, don't answer. Whatever experiences they might offer, whatever face they show you, the benefits you'll reap aren't worth welcoming in the monster who will lie with you.
Back in the ages of dungeons and dragons, a fight between two kingdoms had produced a clear victor. Somewhere near the closure of a great many years of fighting, the losing battle had wormed its way to the epicentre of the losing kingdom's domain - and right onto the doorstep of Marie, a young princess trapped on the losing side. For her and her people, all hopes of turnaround had been long since dead. In this time of dire straights and desperation however, one loyal knight fought on. Rayflo, Marie's most loyal defender, accepted the aid of a powerful demon, chasing after the slightest hope that he could use it's power to save her. The demon, infatuated with the sheer idea of a knight of such noble majesty falling into its putrid corruption, had the knight make a vow of an eternal bond in return for a gift of vampiric abilities.
This is where Barry's story begins. The demon, encapsulated, had duties in its own realm yet couldn't sway its obsession with Rayflo. In need of another way to ensure their bond remained permanent, it created a clone of itself to stay with the man on earth: a white-haired, angel-faced devil of a man. Barry.
Barry rides into the series on the back of Rayflo's greatest desire, a confession of love from his not!lover not!son pseudo-lover-son cyborg vampire friend, Chris. Or Charley/Cherry/Charles, if you prefer. Wearing Chris' face, Barry manipulates the man into welcoming him inside, and no sooner is he there then Rayflo is on the floor, a hand wrapped around his throat and his concerned maid and her carving knife batted away like flies. It's not long before aforementioned carving knife is thrust straight through Rayflo's hands and into the floor leaving Barry to idly ponder the pros and cons of ripping off Rayflo's (or Addy as he's affectionately nicknamed by Barry in what is presumably a reference to his position of 'Adam', prototype to the vampires cloned from him) limbs as he once again adopts Chris' face, knowing full well that it would horrify Rayflo just to see him wear it.
One rape, psychological screw-over and complete internal organ decimation later, it's safe to say that Barry's bad news. Not only does he take pleasure in digesting the entrails of and psychologically tormenting another individual, but that individual just happens to be the sole reason for his existence. Barry lives for, and because of, Rayflo. He states clearly during one of their meetings that, for the sake of being with Rayflo, he doesn't care whether he's the hunter or the hunted. He would readily surrender his position as chaser to become the hunted down and eaten alive for this man, and yet he takes very real pleasure in making his life a living nightmare. Every step Rayflo takes, Barry follows a step behind. For hundreds of years Barry's life has consisted solely of making Rayflo's hell. Their games with each other are vicious; Rayflo attempts to escape Barry's notice, Barry shows up for a 'meal' and traumatises him using the face of his would-be lover; Rayflo suggests a 'challenging game' and soon Barry's head goes rolling across the floor. Point of notice, he's alive a chapter later: Barry gives not a care.
Barry is brutal. A savage beast with the face of an angel, he'll announce his love with the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows down your liver. Always smiling, ever polite, he'll weave a web of casual words and false impressions and leave a check for the cleaning bill when he's left your innards splayed over the sheets and dragged up the wall. He exists to seduce and to smother, thrives on that little place in the human heart which needs the lust and the filth and the wretched desire. If he takes a little soul as payment, a little flesh and blood? Well, call it commission.
It's not that he doesn't care. It's not as though it didn't faze him when the man whose heart he just nonchalantly devoured begged constantly for mercy from the moment he first wrapped his fingers around that skinny neck. Rather, he revels in it. Barry isn't a being who can be constrained or explained by the confines of human emotion or morality. He was born a demon and remains, always, a demon. Love is not love but obsession and compulsion, anger doesn't have space to form for Barry makes no bonds whose betrayal could jeopardise his ego. Happiness comes in the contentment of a man well fooled and a body well drained. Sadness doesn't have a space, for he takes what he wants when he wants it and its a rare day that anyone has the initiative to get in the way of that. Representing carnal and base urges, Barry does as he pleases and takes no prisoners.
Keeping his tone polite and his conversation genial, he blends easily into the crowd of humanity. Without shame, Barry sees no wrong in utilising this to get close in order to tease or to tear apart. He'll change his appearance to that of a small child in order to fool an honest man, appear as a beautiful woman to lure the scum; he's a face for everyone, and he sees no qualms in using them.
Perhaps the most troubling thing about him is that, despite his malicious nature, despite the things he feeds off of, the pleasure he gleans from it is presented as the pleasure of a playful but altogether very rational individual. There's no monstrous gloating, no hurling of bodies and certainly no hideous transformations to insinuate as to his demonic nature. He'll steal a piece of spine and hold it hostage as a friend might steal the keys to the car your dad wasn't supposed to know you borrowed last night, wave it in front of your face as an object of taunt and teasing. He'll smile honestly in the face of insult, never more happy than when he hears the sight of him makes a person sick. He'll ask casual questions and comment on the weather while languidly eating a woman alive. No psychosis to support the hideous things he does, simply the steady fact of his existence.
Have you read up on how the game works?: Sure have! FlamingFerret; missions, mooching and theft.
1st person sample: [the video flickers on, blank, and the darkness shifts once, twice before the obstruction moves away and a pair of lips and a chin come into view, at the bottom of the image, matted fluff presses against the lens.]
Hmm.
[a few moments and the image jogs again, descends into a flash of white and red and dark blue, and then steadies on a face
a rather regal face, actually, framed by bright white hair and wearing a soft smile. his dark eyes are focused on the screen.]
I wonder if someone might be kind enough to offer me a helping hand. I'd like a guide to my room, if anyone's willing; our hosts prove less than obliging, and my sense of direction really isn't what it could be at the moment. Also, if anyone happens to meet a man by the name of Johnny Rayflo, please tell him Barry's waiting. He's a dear friend of mine, and he was with me just before-- well, I'm worried about him.
[the camera shifts yet again, this time allowing for a view of something dark dried into and matting the fur of his collar and the length of his long white braid, a flash of the skin at his neck hidden behind a green cravat. a droplet of something falls to partially obscure the view and he wipes it away with a thumb]
A change of clothes might be nice, too, if anyone has any to spare.
3rd person sample: How dull. The nearby small market sector, usually a hive of such activity, seemed lifeless tonight. Its usual bustling merriment had descended into the slow and slinking drawl of shopping for necessity. Barry watched silently, his fingers dragging lazily up and down the thigh of his bedmate. If he hadn't been previously engaged, he might have wandered down there to offer some poor tired soul a little spice for their evening, but as it was--
Behind him, the muffled murmur of a person stirring. Barry blinked, and the image of the marketplace vanished from behind his eyes.
“Oh. You're awake.” From where he sat, Barry looked down on the waking girl as she smiled her assent. She was tousled, both from sleep and what had come before it, and her cheeks glowed slightly under his stare. He sat there for a few moments more, considering her, before she found enough purchase in waking to look back at him.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, and she nodded sleepily, slowly pushing herself up onto her elbows. Barry's hand moved up to lightly catch her chin and she blinked dazedly at him as he regarded her face.
“You have such lovely eyes.” That was compliment enough for her. The girl positively swooned, and Barry took the opportunity to lean forward and place a tender kiss over each eyelid. A crack. A slurp. A quiet little squelch and he leaned back just as the girl uttered a bewildered semi-mewl.
Oh, the steady torrent of blood colouring her cheek did wonders for her complexion. He couldn't help but admire it as he licked his lips clean, index finger coming up to make quick work of a stray fleck that had landed on his chin. He hummed, satisfied. “The flavour's something, too. And they're soft, like blueberries.”
The girl screamed, the sound a flattering combination both of pain and terrible understanding, and Barry brought his hand lazily down against her chest. She was silent.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he moved in for another taste, he made a note to play with girls more often. They really did have a certain sweetness to their flavour.
Questions?: Nope!
Did you put your characters name and fandom in the subject: A-YUP.