taxonomites | 015: ... As a Bird on a Big TV [Accidental Visual / Location: Wolfram and Hart]

As Spike had shown her a few days ago, Angel's office - as quiet and neglected as it was in Taxon - had a telly. The forest didn't. Oh, the forest was beautiful, yes, but it didn't have a telly.

Miss Edith had been missing the telly.

Drusilla sat on the floor of the office with her legs crossed and her doll in her lap, watching the screen with unblinking eyes. At first, it hadn't seemed as if there was much on. There never was, in Taxon. But then she'd found something wonderful. Not just because of the pretty colours, although they were terribly pretty, but because the strange, discordant voices that floated from the screen spoke to her. Really spoke to her.

They were quite mad, those little monsters. If only they'd been able to hear her replies!

As a new episode began, Drusilla - who had already watched half a dozen, drinking the odd images in like warm milk - hummed along to the theme tune. (So did Miss Edith, even if the tablet - watching Drusilla watching Floop - couldn't pick up her tiny - tiny, but sweet as sugar - little voice.)

OOC: Again, backdated to a few days before the end of Glitch's glitch. This is all Keri's fault and I've finished spamming the community now, I swear.

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After a moment of silence that could have been cut with a knife, Drusilla rose to her feet. (Miss Edith, forgotten in all the excitement, remained on the ground.) Illyria was old and powerful and filled the room with a presence that was as intoxicating as it was frightening.

Because she was a good princess in the presence of a queen, Drusilla curtsied gracefully.

She tilted her head to study the vampire.

"You dare mock me," she said quietly, taking a step forward. "What games are you playing?"

At that, Drusilla frowned slightly, genuinely confused and a little insulted.

"A good girls knows how to greet her elders and betters," she explained. She could hear her mother and her father - the other one, the living one, the one that had left her - repeating that as she and Anne readied themselves for an important dinner. There had been red wine in the glasses, looking just like blood. She'd spilled it all over the white linen.

That was better. She understood games.

"What do you want to play?"

There. That was infinitely better.

Illyria stepped and moved around Drusilla, as if studying her from every angle. "Most vampires know not their place in my presence. Most speak to me as if I am their equal." There's a hint of bitterness and resentment there. Illyria paused, then looked at the vampire with something akin to amusement. "Interesting, that you don't."

Edited 2010-09-24 13:42 (UTC)

"You mean Spike and the Angel Beast," said Drusilla with a sage nod. It was always them. She rather liked the attention. Illyria had eyes that cut straight down to the bone. "I'm better at looking then they are. I see the things they miss."

She glanced away, neither denying nor confirming what Drusilla had said. Despite developing a rather soft spot for her pet, there were moments when she detested the familiarity that existed between her and Spike, whereas the vampire leader she detested merely because he had influence over others that she no longer had.

"Do you?" she asked. "Is that what sets you apart from them?"

"Yes," answered Drusilla, simply and sweetly. This creature - a creature from the deepest darkest past, as old as the world she'd ruled once upon a time - could have snapped her like a twig. It was terribly exciting. "The stars talk to me."

"A seer," she concluded. Different. She'd known of seers; had several in her army, once. Had their eyes and tongues plucked out when they spouted undesirable prophecies and events that would come to pass. That did come to pass. Seers were definitely valuable, but their abilities unreliable, until it's too late.

Drusilla nodded. For a moment, her curtain of dark hair fell forward, hiding her bright eyes and her clever face. They could be good for each other. The vampire and the god. A team to shake the stars to their core!

"That's why Daddy choose me," she said, sagely. "Are you pleased?"

"Daddy," she repeated, and for one fleeting moment a man's face flashed in her head. Stop it Daddy. Come here and give me a hug. The shell's father, who knew nothing about what happened to his daughter.

Illyria shook her head to dispel such unpleasant thoughts, and focused on the vampire again. "Pleased? Why should I be? You have yet to prove yourself to me. Dust at my feet until you're of some use."

"The Angel Beast," she offered, misunderstanding Illyria's repetition of the name. It wasn't easy to survive with somebody else's voice in your head. Apart from Morgana, who was lost to her, Drusilla hadn't met anyone else with the knack for it. With the curse of it.

"Because I'll help. I know I will. When I've seen how."

She liked being useful and, in many ways, she liked having someone to tell her what to do.

The vampire leader was her sire. Illyria took note of this, but commented not on it. It might prove useful, in the future.

"We shall see," she said, moving towards the door now. "I've little respect for seers. Much less for vampires."

Oh, it wasn't a secret. Even now, when so much had changed, Drusilla was proud of her connection to Angel. He was hers and she was his and it was delicious. Why would she want anyone else?

"Don't you want to watch with me?" she asked, generously, gesturing at the television. (Someone so old was allowed to be rude. She'd left her manners far behind her.)

"No." Her answer was brief, succinct. "I've more important things to do."

And before the vampire could speak, Illyria's already out of the room.

015: ... As a Bird on a Big TV [Accidental Visual / Location: Wolfram and Hart]

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