Bad guys need to eat too. What.

[aphephobic]

Who: A hisdarkmark, an aphephobic, and a outdoing
What: Dinner theater
When: Sunday, October 2nd
Where: Up in the mountains
Summary: Harth's in the mood for a mix of violence and science.
Rating: Probably R for violence/potential triggering/all that stuff

Comments

[outdoing]

It was a shame that such an interesting friendship had to come to such a messy end. Harth could blame it on any number of things - impatience, boredom, tiring of weaving stories, perhaps even growing too complacent in such a decidedly hostile environment. But, ultimately, what it came down to was hunger.

Aside from the insatiable thirst for knowledge, the need to know what could be done with the magic that existed within this realm... but it was far simpler than that. He was hungry. Animals weren't doing it. He'd never gone more than a week without feeding, animals simply weren't doing it for him - he needed something stronger. Were it not for that, he was quite certain that he would have been content to play along with this charade for a while longer

[hisdarkmark]

Today, Draco decided, was a terrible day. There he was, minding his own business and trying to pick up the rest of his pride that had been bruised during the last week of experimentation when out of nowhere someone or something ambushed him and knocked him unconscious.

Though not entirely unconscious anymore, Draco had decided that the best thing he could do for now was keep his eyes closed and pretend he was still knocked out. Besides, his head was still scrambled and he didn't have enough in him to open his eyes just yet.

He strains his ears a bit, trying to make out who exactly was with him in the mountain. Okay. Hisoka's voice he recognized, and he vaguely recognized the other as...well, he didn't actually get his name. But he knows it was the boy asking about magic.

And then Harth swooped in out of nowhere again. Draco's officially useless right now.

[aphephobic]

Normally, Hisoka might've heard something. Or felt the presence of a predator lurking nearby. Or somehow had some warning that something dangerous was coming near. Damn unreadable demons. Why was everything about vampires lately, anyway?

The first indication he'd had to Harth being anywhere close was the sudden rush of pain springing from behind him. It easily sent him crashing to his knees, swearing heavily. It was a concussive strike, enough to daze him terribly, but although there would most certainly be blood on Harth's club, Hisoka's scalp was already mending the injury. His blackout would only last a few seconds, but it gave away precious time that would have been better spent getting Draco out of here.

[outdoing]

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" The vampire's stomach growled at the scent of blood, but he was far more attuned to the fact that it was already mending. The vampire frowned heavily, considering... if he can take that, then perhaps there's no need to treat him as the average human. He'd never been particularly skilled at keeping them alive anyhow.

And so, shrugging, Harth reaches down and and grabs the human by the back of the neck, taking a step foward and then tossing him heavily into the cave wall.