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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 28, 2011 21:06:59 GMT -5
Draven sat himself up on his elbows, looking at Malcolm with venom.
"I don't think I'd let you kill your brother even if you wanted to," he growled, darkly. "Killing my brother would be a challenge. Killing yours would be a murder."
He wasn't in the mood for this; Markus had been a kind boy, terrified of him for being drunk. What could possibly be so bad that Malcolm wanted him dead? Nothing Draven could think of off the top of his head. He glared at Malcolm with dangerous eyes before sitting up the rest of the way and hiding the fact that he was in pain at the moment.
"I came across my brother and had a wonderfully long fight with him," he recapped, shortly. "And then he decided he was going to use some damn strange poison he'd come up with. Which would be the reason I'm not fully healed yet. That shit's finally out of my system so now all I need is time. If I'd had some backup, I probably would have been okay but he got the best of me in an alley near Seriah's house and I knew I was going to fall. Alright? Is your damn curiousity satiated?"
He turned away, allowing himself to grimace as a shot of pain lurched up his side.
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 28, 2011 21:46:48 GMT -5
Malcolm merely shrugged at Ashemir’s criticism. He might’ve gone into further detail, had Draven’s next comment not caught his attention. “Oh?” he asked, turning to glare. “Why not? I thought that you hadn’t met him, that you wouldn’t know anything about him.”
Draven’s tale practically flew in one ear and out the other. The basics got through, the poison and lack of backup and eventually Dear Old Draven would be just fine, but Malcolm pushed it aside as information for another time. He spared a glance at Ashemir, judging whether he wanted to risk a fight, then stepped forward, crossing the border between room and hall. He strode halfway into the room, close enough turn his glare disparagingly downward to Draven while leaving room in case Ashemir jumped up. “I bet you did meet him,” Malcolm accused. “He’s just got you tricked, like everyone else.” He sneered, eyes narrowing. “You probably didn’t even ask how old he was.”
((Hum...Sorry if I'm kinda hogging the thread's attention. :c Gimmie a shout if I need to drag Malcolm out of the spotlight.))
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 28, 2011 22:03:23 GMT -5
(Nah, it's cool! Malcom has needed some spotlight anyway. ^^ )
Now Ashemir just looked annoyed, keeping up his facade. "I can call you an ass, but that isn't information on what you have actually done to warrant calling you so," he pointed out. When Malcom stalked into the room, the blonde shifted uncomfortably, plagued by the memory of Valmar crossing the threshold into his own room. Malcom, though, Ashemir was pretty sure he could take the innkeeper on, even though the snide vampire would probably fight dirty. Oh well, it wasn't as though he was entirely fair himself. "Do ages really matter? I'm nineteen, Draven is... twenty-two, I believe, and you're... what, twenty-one? Anyway, we're all guilty of not actually being those ages, so it's not as though we can condemn others for doing the same. If you want to convince me, you should stop beating around the damn bush."
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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 28, 2011 22:14:10 GMT -5
Draven nodded in agreement with Ashemir. If Malcolm was so convinced his little brother was such a demon, a wolf in sheep's clothing, deserving of death, he needed to convince Draven (and Ashemir so it seemed). He watched the standing vampire, still leaned back on his elbows.
"Spit it out already," he grumbled.
((I'm sorry, it's short...))
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 28, 2011 22:31:24 GMT -5
“You’re not an angel yourself,” Malcolm muttered, pausing mid-tantrum to return Ashemir’s oh-so-kind sentiment.
And Ashemir rattled off their supposed ages, all based on appearances. (He wouldn’t expect much else from someone with hair like that.) “He’s fifty-three,” Malcolm hissed. “The same as me.” He took a moment to storm back to the doorway and kick the frame, denting the edge. “He’s not even a vampire!” Malcolm yelled. “He just went and...” He waved a hand in the air, searching for the word. “...and...magicked his way into immortality! And then everyone fawns over him like he’s perfect, and he acts all sweet and small all the time, and he puts up this whole charade of being ‘independent’ just to make people coddle him even more and...and he’s supposed to be dead!” He stopped to sigh, and lower his voice to a grumble. “...Not allowed to be young that long unless you’re a vampire.”
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 29, 2011 17:49:58 GMT -5
Oh... maybe Ashemir should have saved his 'good brother, bad brother' line he had used on Draven for Malcom instead. Or, the way Malcom was saying it, it was more like 'bad brother, worse brother'. Or, if you wanted the blonde's opinion on it, 'good brother, jealous brother'. "I see." He didn't think Markus deserved to DIE over it, but at least it was a reason. He wasn't about to play therapist with Malcom, though. Hopefully Draven would say something, in that Draven way he does.
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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 29, 2011 20:34:21 GMT -5
Draven rolled his eyes at Malcolm. THAT was the reason? Stupid reason...
"Alright so..." he started, trying to think of how to word himself without pissing Malcolm off even more (like he cared really). "You're jealous of your brother so he deserves to die? So he's stuck a little kid that's not a vampire. Who cares? That is the DUMBEST[/b] reason to kill off your little brother. Grow some balls and deal with it. At least my brother's a threat. You're literally talking about killing a little kid that's fifty-some years old because he's not a vampire? What the hell, man? You really need to get over it. Move on. Markus isn't worth it."
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 29, 2011 21:01:37 GMT -5
Malcolm still didn’t really like Ashemir, but he didn’t altogether hate the guy. At least he had the sense to leave it at ‘I see,’ which didn’t really hate or agree on the reasoning.
Draven, of course, jumped up to play the ‘That’s stupid’ card. Malcolm glared, but kicking the door had helped a bit, and he stopped to think. Obviously, Draven was already under Markus’s cute-child spell, so he wouldn’t get it. “He’s an abomination and a leech,” Malcolm said, taking care to slow himself down. After all, it wasn’t completely Draven’s fault that he didn’t comprehend. Only partly, the part that fell for it. “Obviously he’s already tricked you, so you won’t see it. When I kill him, you’ll understand.”
Low thunder rumbled then, from far enough that the sound of rain didn’t follow. Malcolm glanced up to the ceiling, then back out in the hallway. “When do you leave for the battle again?” he asked, not even looking back from the hallway.
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 30, 2011 12:38:51 GMT -5
There was the Draven-y rant, probably a little more heavy-handed than he expected, but oh well. "You're considered an abomination and a leech," Ashemir pointed out. Good Lord, could anyone be any less convincing? Malcom certainly had the charisma to be so, but he had to exercise his words better. When the innkeeper left and asked his question, the blonde shifted again. He'd rather not have been reminded of that.... "When Seriah comes to collect me," he answered.
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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 30, 2011 20:34:30 GMT -5
Draven rolled his eyes at Malcolm and laid back again. Let him talk to Ashemir. He was done dealing with a blind, jealous idiot.
"Way to go there, Malcolm," he muttered to himself, closing his bronze eyes.
If the tavernmaster didn't learn to open his eyes, he was in for a big surprise when others stood up to protect his brother against him. And Draven would be one of them. That child had done nothing wrong, and didn't even seem capable of doing anything wrong at that. So Draven wouldn't be letting the larger, older brother to murder the younger, more friendly brother.
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 30, 2011 21:46:16 GMT -5
So Draven and Ashemir threw in their final bits of scorn, and Malcolm brushed it aside. He couldn’t expect them to understand; most people didn’t. As long as he knew he was right, that was all that mattered. The rest would work itself out.
Apparently the battle didn’t have an exact start time, but it wasn’t a big deal. “Do you think we’ll win?” Malcolm asked.
((Gwaa, short. :c ))
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 30, 2011 22:06:52 GMT -5
Ashemir wondered if he had pissed off Malcom. The innkeeper didn't look terribly angry, but you never really knew sometimes. They just needed a different topic. ...The war was not his preferred topic. "We have to win," Ashemir said. "Or all of our lives are forfeit." Unless they decided to take the next ship off the continent.... "...How were you turned, anyway, Malcom? Draven?" he extended the question. After all they had talked about, it wasn't a topic that they had touched on.
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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 31, 2011 8:45:01 GMT -5
What a choice for conversation topics. Draven didn't much feel like talking about the beginning of his immortal hell. But Ashemir had asked and he felt inclined to answer him. He lifted his head and gave Malcolm a look, wondering if he would be wise to wait. Didn't need the barman thinking he was even more of a puss than he did already. But whatever.... He would just have to prove himself worthy of the respect he'd lost while injured.
"There was a strange man in the family barn," Draven said. "And he kept coming back so I went to warn him with my father's sword and he bit me. After that, my parent's threatened to kill me and I left. End of story."
He hoped Marrus wouldn't come up in this. He didn't feel like talking about the bastard.
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 31, 2011 18:42:02 GMT -5
Technically, saying ‘all’ of their lives were forfeit would only apply to the fighters, and maybe Draven if he’d been obnoxious enough to be found out. But vampires had survived this far, and they’d keep at it. (Besides, Malcolm knew he didn’t plan on getting caught, so there’d be at least one vampire survivor.) So it wasn’t ‘all’...But that kind of optimism probably wasn’t the best kind to bring up.
Either way, Ashemir jumped topics, probably to avoid the war subject. “Huh,” Malcolm said after Draven finished his story. “I’m surprised. I had you picked as one of those with a close connection to whoever turned them. As for me, I was just taking the wrong path at the wrong time. Poor bastard that got me got himself killed right after. I’d already been kicked out of town by then, though, so I don’t think anyone from before knows I’m alive.” And...No, that was about it. Malcolm nodded to himself, then turned to stare at Ashemir, expecting a repayment story.
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 31, 2011 19:42:46 GMT -5
It didn't matter who was out in the open or not. Ashemir suspected that humans and wereanimals would concentrate their efforts tenfold, and even vampires who were well hidden would be sniffed out in a matter of time. Draven's story was a little disappointingly 'this and that, the end', but he supposed not everything could be an epic tale. Or maybe the bronze-eyed vampire was withholding details. "At least things worked out for you, more or less," he said to Malcom. It looked like he'd have to humor them, too, so he picked out a starting point.
"The girl I fell in love with turned out to be a vampire. I was shocked, but grew to accept it. We decided to elope, but my brother found out what she was. I murdered him and fled the property, but I was struck down by my oldest brother. My lover came to my aid and tore out his throat, and she bit me to save my life."
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