come out come out wherever you are

[bitterchill]

Ari patrols most nights. He frequently whistles as he does so. He's on friendly terms with many of the people of the town, though some of them think he's a dangerous weirdo. (They're not wrong, but it's not very polite to say it outright like that.)

Vampires still come to Sunnydale. Because it's Sunnydale, and because vampires are idiots. The ones who live here already, though, have picked up a habit of either visiting the kosher butcher's or the bite shop, or moving to LA. Or having their heads ripped off by an excessively cheerful blonde half-Kal'shekk witch.

Speaking of the kosher butcher's, he pops his head into that alleyway. Maybe he'll see Mr. Ray, that nice vampire chap who comes by for some fresh cow's blood every Thursday. (Ari acts cheerfully oblivious to the fact that every vampire he knows is blind terrified of him. Some of them are alright when he keeps them from eating people; being unrepentantly amoral doesn't have to mean you're not a nice person.)

Comments

[bitterchill]

"Very big, for one thing. Well, they look very big, actually they're sort of a fleshy oyster-thing in a massive rock suit. Peaceful society, for the most part, they live in cavern-palaces on their home plane and eat crystals. They have power over earth and stone, which I get a bit of-" he picks up a rock and, concentrating, turns it into a picture-perfect robin- "and human crosses get strength and toughness and that whole package. That's true of most half-demons, human blood plays very nicely with demonic."

[unmarred]

"Nice trick. Very pretty."

[bitterchill]

"Do you want it? I can make it colorful and sparkly and things with a bit of effort, it could spruce up your crypt a bit. I've got shelves full of rocky sculpture stuff, this would probably just get slagged anyway."

[unmarred]

"That would be very sweet of you."

[bitterchill]

Ari turns the bird over in his hands. "Tell me what colors you want it, I can go authentic red and brown or black and purple or however you like. For that matter, I can make it a whole different thing, though if you want a unicorn or something I'll need a few more rocks."

[unmarred]

"Authentic, why not."

[bitterchill]

Ari breathes in and out, focusing on the color of the stone. Slowly, orange-red bleeds across the feathery breast (feathery rock is actually quite uncomfortable, but nobody needs to pet it or anything), shifting to white along the body and brown through the wings. After a minute or so, he holds a tiny bird that almost looks like it might chirp and fly away at any moment.

Whimsically, he decides to float it over to perch on Mark's shoulder. Oh, telekinesis. The easiest and also best witchcraft.

[unmarred]

Mark giggles. And pets the bird.

[bitterchill]

It is made of rocks!

"I can make it glossy or sparkly if you like, but. Authentic robin, right there."

[unmarred]

"It's adorable." And totally made of rocks. But he is scooping it off his shoulder and cuddling it anyway.

[bitterchill]

It is unresponsive to cuddles, but it can be presumed to love him very much.

"And if you want it enchanted or something let me know, my roommate's absolutely fantastic at that stuff. She always gives out little trinkets at Christmas that glow mood lighting or sing lullabies or give massages or whatever. She could make the authentic robin an authentic singing robin!"

[unmarred]

He loves it right back.

"I think I'm fine with it just the way it is."

[bitterchill]

"Aw. Cute."

Ari lets him return to robin-cuddling.

[unmarred]

Mark cuddling his stone robin is terribly adorable.

[bitterchill]

Further awwwing! Mostly internal. Making people happy is Ari's favorite thing to do.

[unmarred]

It is the cutest little stone robin and it is pretty and nice and representative of interpersonal goodwill and Mark loves it so much. Snuggle snuggle.

[bitterchill]

Sunnydale is a pretty big town, and it's made bigger by the presence of eighteen different cemeteries, but eventually they arrive at Danforth IV. It's a newer one, close to the outskirts, but parts of it have managed to become properly dilapidated. Ari's got a few demonic friends living here (and a few vampiric acquaintances), so he's familiar with the real estate. Is Mark living in the Ashworth mausoleum, like he thought?

[unmarred]

Nope. He walks right past the cemetery and down the road to the abandoned mansion with the twelve-foot-tall iron fence surrounding its extensive grounds.

"...It occurs to me," he says, looking at it, "that you might have more trouble getting to my crypt than I do."

Which neatly explains how he managed to score his own crypt: while it's technically possible for a vampire or demon, or even a sufficiently motivated human, to climb that fence, it's not something most people would do for kicks. And the gates have long since rusted shut. He could probably even be living in the mansion itself, if he wanted, assuming it's still standing; no one has been in there in years to check, and there's a formerly well-tended forest blocking any direct view of the house from the road.

[bitterchill]

Ari looks at the mansion.

"How did you get- unless- oh, yeah, the forest got uncursed a while back. Used to be if you went in you'd have a subjective eternity in a hellish pocket reality and go insane. Makes sense it wouldn't have trickled down through the househunters, they'd only really know if they tried to go in. I guess I shouldn't tell Garro about it yet, he'd be glad of the space but I wouldn't want to make you cohabit with a Rallk unless you're fond of being serenaded every morning with a hundred and twenty decibels of nails-on-chalkboard screeching."

[unmarred]

"Yeah, I much prefer the quiet."

[bitterchill]

Ari looks at the fence, makes a judgment, and crouches. Then he leaps into the air, accelerated by the push of telekinesis, and clings to the upper bar of the fence. From there he pulls himself up and over, does a brief handstand on the top, and drops to the ground for a three-point landing. He stands in order to bow extravagantly.

[unmarred]

Mark grins.

He takes a running leap, touches the fence about two-thirds of the way up, hauls himself the rest of the way without breaking momentum, and comes down neatly next to Ari. Not as flashy overall, but much faster. Showing off in his own way, perhaps.

[bitterchill]

Ari applauds politely. "Eight points from the Kal'shakk judge. Not enough showboating, but excellent performance."

[unmarred]

"I'm a trained bloody assassin. Showboating is not my style."

[bitterchill]

"I don't make the rules, Mark. I just enforce them, with brutal efficiency. Occasionally that means drastic measures like two points off your fence-jumping score."