Dealing death.
It was what they did. Was what she did. Felt, at times, as though it was all she ever would do.
That and mourn the living state of a slumbering death more inanimate than most her kind willingly endured. A literal tomb, composed of stone and metal. Giant, imposing concrete slabs, pillars and steel to surround the one that had given both purpose and a new life.
New life from death. That was the way.
At peace be well, Viktor, echoed the thought. At peace be well...
"Selene."
That was a voice far more unbidden. One that, to the recipient, held little care or fairly symbolised warmth. It was one of several things that hardened her, like a crab, impervious to what the outside world of her emotional shell might have her believe, say or do.
"Selene."
And then cold eyes stared that way. She didn't ignore. Just at times didn't think it worth the effort to dignify such beckonings. Far too many times had they who said it managed to steer the conversation round to less welcome topics, or presumptions of how she was. Who she was.
"Kraven," answered demure vampiress. Or at least, that was how he liked to think of her. Demure. But her veering away was not through shyness. Daughter to a regal legacy, perhaps, but it made her no more a stranger to what those could do who violated boundaries to... Violate other things as well. So she remained ice. Not the dark fire he little doubt imagined her to be, though true it could be. But not for him. Ice. The fire was hers and hers to be controlled alone. A pale face looking up in only formal respect. "What is it?"
Yet it didn't stop him hiding a smile. The girl, Viktor's dirty laundry, so to speak, looking at him with that defiant glint in a stare. It annoyed, for sure, but there was that part of a vampire that kicked and scratched. And what a day it could be when she would scratch. Bite. Scream the name of the one who finally got to win her.
And then he'd tell her exactly what her dear daddy had really done. Or Kraven liked to think that he would. It was a subject of endless mental debate. But would it forever turn her really against him? It was an Ace card. A final resort.
"Your father's successor," continued he, with a wry observation. It helped to remind her. Viktor wasn't around. A sleeping fossil. Somebody else had replaced the old bat and, in time, another would for they. And every King needs a Queen and every Princess, like Selene, in truth knows they need a suitor some day. "We might be out of the way of things. But where she's going to won't be."
Selene only rose brow. A visual signal to elaborate, but his mind savoured it. Would remember the visual for later on. For a time when it would be just him, a bed and hands, to imagine her on that same bed, expressing same, but with a very different implied meaning.
"Germany. Amelia needs an escort, you need to stop dwelling and besides which, your name was personally requested. It's the perfect opportunity."
Or excuse, she thought. After all, a shark doesn't hunt a school of fish. It seperates them. And that, no doubt, would be the game: Keep her mind off Viktor. Keep it on him instead, as though there was any alternative the way he strutted round by her every night.
"What?" Enquired Kraven. Not a harsh tone. Just an interested one at the perceived expression. "Does everything has to be plots and schemes behind the curtain?"
"That's our nature, isn't it?"
"It's not your nature."
"No." And how she hated it when he did that. Let his eyes slowly roam, down, then up. To assume that he could own her in gaze if nothing else. "I just kill things."
"Ouch...!" And it was nothing but mockery that spilled from his mouth. Two hands clasped over unliving heart, as though she had staked it herself. Perhaps if he had known the thoughts going through that head, such a thing shouldn't have even been tempted. In play or not. "Selene... You wound me!"
"Not yet I haven't."
But it wasn't a game she was interested in. A twirl round, in private dreading the thought of him 'incidentally' stumbling forward to like a zombie to catch hold of her for balance after that. The doors to Viktor's resting place cycling back to deny witness of it as she did so. Kraven could follow. For he always did.
"It's not my fault." Viktor's yesteryear champion retorted. "You know security's spread thinner these days. Blame the humans and their little war."
"Mmm, the war," Selene agreed. Eyes on nothing else but directions to the mansion armoury, where she could at least peruse the mission profile details in private. On the job. Always. "All that running around... Shooting each other. You'd have thought it would have gone out of fashion by now."
"Sarcasm as well as beauty? My-my, Selene. Any other talents you feel like demonstrating lately?"
"Whether a vampire can regenerate its own genitals, if you're not careful."
"So sayeth the warrior." Kraven couldn't help but smile at it. The view of Selene's rear, as he slowed and Death Dealer carried on her way, also did its bit to raise spirits just a little. "Pack what you can," he called on out. "Hopefully it won't be too long a trip..."
It was what they did. Was what she did. Felt, at times, as though it was all she ever would do.
That and mourn the living state of a slumbering death more inanimate than most her kind willingly endured. A literal tomb, composed of stone and metal. Giant, imposing concrete slabs, pillars and steel to surround the one that had given both purpose and a new life.
New life from death. That was the way.
At peace be well, Viktor, echoed the thought. At peace be well...
"Selene."
That was a voice far more unbidden. One that, to the recipient, held little care or fairly symbolised warmth. It was one of several things that hardened her, like a crab, impervious to what the outside world of her emotional shell might have her believe, say or do.
"Selene."
And then cold eyes stared that way. She didn't ignore. Just at times didn't think it worth the effort to dignify such beckonings. Far too many times had they who said it managed to steer the conversation round to less welcome topics, or presumptions of how she was. Who she was.
"Kraven," answered demure vampiress. Or at least, that was how he liked to think of her. Demure. But her veering away was not through shyness. Daughter to a regal legacy, perhaps, but it made her no more a stranger to what those could do who violated boundaries to... Violate other things as well. So she remained ice. Not the dark fire he little doubt imagined her to be, though true it could be. But not for him. Ice. The fire was hers and hers to be controlled alone. A pale face looking up in only formal respect. "What is it?"
Yet it didn't stop him hiding a smile. The girl, Viktor's dirty laundry, so to speak, looking at him with that defiant glint in a stare. It annoyed, for sure, but there was that part of a vampire that kicked and scratched. And what a day it could be when she would scratch. Bite. Scream the name of the one who finally got to win her.
And then he'd tell her exactly what her dear daddy had really done. Or Kraven liked to think that he would. It was a subject of endless mental debate. But would it forever turn her really against him? It was an Ace card. A final resort.
"Your father's successor," continued he, with a wry observation. It helped to remind her. Viktor wasn't around. A sleeping fossil. Somebody else had replaced the old bat and, in time, another would for they. And every King needs a Queen and every Princess, like Selene, in truth knows they need a suitor some day. "We might be out of the way of things. But where she's going to won't be."
Selene only rose brow. A visual signal to elaborate, but his mind savoured it. Would remember the visual for later on. For a time when it would be just him, a bed and hands, to imagine her on that same bed, expressing same, but with a very different implied meaning.
"Germany. Amelia needs an escort, you need to stop dwelling and besides which, your name was personally requested. It's the perfect opportunity."
Or excuse, she thought. After all, a shark doesn't hunt a school of fish. It seperates them. And that, no doubt, would be the game: Keep her mind off Viktor. Keep it on him instead, as though there was any alternative the way he strutted round by her every night.
"What?" Enquired Kraven. Not a harsh tone. Just an interested one at the perceived expression. "Does everything has to be plots and schemes behind the curtain?"
"That's our nature, isn't it?"
"It's not your nature."
"No." And how she hated it when he did that. Let his eyes slowly roam, down, then up. To assume that he could own her in gaze if nothing else. "I just kill things."
"Ouch...!" And it was nothing but mockery that spilled from his mouth. Two hands clasped over unliving heart, as though she had staked it herself. Perhaps if he had known the thoughts going through that head, such a thing shouldn't have even been tempted. In play or not. "Selene... You wound me!"
"Not yet I haven't."
But it wasn't a game she was interested in. A twirl round, in private dreading the thought of him 'incidentally' stumbling forward to like a zombie to catch hold of her for balance after that. The doors to Viktor's resting place cycling back to deny witness of it as she did so. Kraven could follow. For he always did.
"It's not my fault." Viktor's yesteryear champion retorted. "You know security's spread thinner these days. Blame the humans and their little war."
"Mmm, the war," Selene agreed. Eyes on nothing else but directions to the mansion armoury, where she could at least peruse the mission profile details in private. On the job. Always. "All that running around... Shooting each other. You'd have thought it would have gone out of fashion by now."
"Sarcasm as well as beauty? My-my, Selene. Any other talents you feel like demonstrating lately?"
"Whether a vampire can regenerate its own genitals, if you're not careful."
"So sayeth the warrior." Kraven couldn't help but smile at it. The view of Selene's rear, as he slowed and Death Dealer carried on her way, also did its bit to raise spirits just a little. "Pack what you can," he called on out. "Hopefully it won't be too long a trip..."