Post by Ol' Gillespie on Nov 18, 2010 23:05:49 GMT -5
The tunnel was the perfect home away from home. As much as Gillespie enjoyed life at the castille, sometimes he needed a break from the child pornography other vampires. He was not what you'd call a social creature, and being around others left him on edge. In the tunnel, he could be anonymous, just another wizard with his hood up. Everyone knew the tunnel was a dodgy place to be, what with some new monster attacking every other week, just like some cut-rate anime, except without the Very Special Episodes on The Awesome Powers of Love and Friendship.
Anyway, he'd been basically feasting since he got here, but unlike other nosferatu, he couldn't chow down on those stinky, dirty wizard hobos. They just weren't clean. Their blood couldn't possibly taste as good as if they were clean. Besides, they were usually drunk, and the alcohol in their blood made Gillespie feel a little ill. So, Gillespie hunted different targets; he'd just left behind the immaculate corpse of a young woman. That had been his trademark as a human killer as well, a crime scene that was immaculately clean. Of course, it had been easier when he could do magic.
As it was, he was heading back to his vacation home, as he was coming to think of it. An abandoned apartment building, from when the tunnel used to house more people. Before it became the epicenter of evil in Western Europe, apparently. Checking that no one was watching him, he slipped in a side door. Five floors that were all his, not that he needed much room. He mostly stayed in the basement, sleeping an a makeshift coffin that was really just a wooden crate, stuffed with pillows, because he wasn't sure it was sanitary to sleep in the packing material.
There had been rats in the building when he'd moved in, but they'd all gone now, or been killed by Gillespie. Today, however, he wandered the rooms above, looking for more furnishings to take with him downstairs. There wasn't much left, but in one room, he found a dusty, worn out armchair and a little table with one leg a little shorter than the others, so it wobbled a bit. Good enough. He took a seat in the chair to be sure it was worth moving. It would need to be cleaned, of course...
Anyway, he'd been basically feasting since he got here, but unlike other nosferatu, he couldn't chow down on those stinky, dirty wizard hobos. They just weren't clean. Their blood couldn't possibly taste as good as if they were clean. Besides, they were usually drunk, and the alcohol in their blood made Gillespie feel a little ill. So, Gillespie hunted different targets; he'd just left behind the immaculate corpse of a young woman. That had been his trademark as a human killer as well, a crime scene that was immaculately clean. Of course, it had been easier when he could do magic.
As it was, he was heading back to his vacation home, as he was coming to think of it. An abandoned apartment building, from when the tunnel used to house more people. Before it became the epicenter of evil in Western Europe, apparently. Checking that no one was watching him, he slipped in a side door. Five floors that were all his, not that he needed much room. He mostly stayed in the basement, sleeping an a makeshift coffin that was really just a wooden crate, stuffed with pillows, because he wasn't sure it was sanitary to sleep in the packing material.
There had been rats in the building when he'd moved in, but they'd all gone now, or been killed by Gillespie. Today, however, he wandered the rooms above, looking for more furnishings to take with him downstairs. There wasn't much left, but in one room, he found a dusty, worn out armchair and a little table with one leg a little shorter than the others, so it wobbled a bit. Good enough. He took a seat in the chair to be sure it was worth moving. It would need to be cleaned, of course...