[ Armand's gaze slides from the bloodstains to the window and back again, returning to linger on Stack with an air of long-tested patience. He stays where he is for another beat, then moves into the room, stepping carefully over the wet parts of the floor. Babou eels in after him, slinking along the skirting until he finds a patch of blood that Stack's missed and crouches to start licking at it. ]
You are a fledgling. A young vampire. Still making a mess of the nest.
[ He picks up the pack of cigarettes, extracts one, holds it to his own lips. Waits until Stack is looking at him to light it with the Fire Gift, a tiny snap of air combusting at the end. The faint smile on his face suggests he knows he's showing off and doesn't care; a goad for Stack to rise to. His eyes are dark, no sparks giving them away.
He takes a drag, tips his head back a little to blow out the smoke. ]
Come here.
[ He can put it into those blood-wet hands, but he'd rather put it into his mouth. ]
no subject
You are a fledgling. A young vampire. Still making a mess of the nest.
[ He picks up the pack of cigarettes, extracts one, holds it to his own lips. Waits until Stack is looking at him to light it with the Fire Gift, a tiny snap of air combusting at the end. The faint smile on his face suggests he knows he's showing off and doesn't care; a goad for Stack to rise to. His eyes are dark, no sparks giving them away.
He takes a drag, tips his head back a little to blow out the smoke. ]
Come here.
[ He can put it into those blood-wet hands, but he'd rather put it into his mouth. ]