Jessica sighed but said "Erina can have my room. I like sleeping under the stars. Good night everyone." Jessica waved as she left the house. She turned into a panther. She raced up a tree and settled on one of the thickest branches. She put her head on her paws and let her tail hang. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Well, I'm going with the original, MMV. She didn't change.
"The Angel is out like a light. Would it be so mean? Well, anyways, I might as well... she seems like she's asleep enough."
Pulling off his mask, D'Artigo walks over to the wash basin. Splashing some water on his face, to maintain his appearance, he gazes into the mirror. The scars were still there, they would never heal now. Jagged zig-zags, straight slashes, symbols and letters... they were all there to stay. All along his arms and legs, he had similar scars. Along his back, lashes. His body was imperfect, thanks to those who raised him. The torture had lasted days, when they finally made him drink, and rise as a vampire. That woman... her eyes glowed red in his mind still. Constantly. She was his first, though unwillingly. She had done almost the same as he did now, though instead of killing him outright after pleasure, she had brought him to her home. He thought she sought a meaningful relationship... but no. He was grabbed, gagged, bound, and brought to a torture chamber. There... well, D'Artigo tried not to think about it that much.
His hair slid in front his face. Producing a small brush from within his cloak, and pulling his entire head of hair out from inside his cloak, he begins to brush. From the top of his head, to his waist. Back again. And again. A simple task, to be sure, but it was calming enough. He had never cut his hair. He had no need to now, it didn't grow. Only to keep it in its beautiful condition. Returning his brush, he left his hair out. It had been a long time since it had flowed free.
Returning his gaze to the mirror, he observes himself, with his scrapes, and scars. His eyes change colour in the mirror, the bright gold and silver flecks showing, instead of the pale blue. His brow furrowed, as he concentrated hard. In the mirror, he could see his scars beginning to disappear. Fading out, until there was not a blemish on his face. It was wonderful, a slightly darker grey than usual, with his ivory coloured hair surrounding it. His eyes popped out of his face like a torch in the dark. No wonder those drunken sluts and female criminals wanted him so much when he caught them. He was rather attractive when he threw his magic into the mix.
His eyes faded back into their normal colour, his face paling. His scars, re-appearing. They always did. He sighed, looking at his mask, cradling it in his hands. The white porcelain almost matched his skin hue. The eye slits fit perfectly, as he had crafted them too. Totally obscuring the face. He let out a long sigh. How he wished he didn't have to hide his face. But the world would not permit someone like this to walk. And she might come for him, if she knew his face. Donning his mask, he pick up the end of his hair, and begins to braid it... then stops. He would do it later. Now however, he needed rest.
Making sure his mask was fastened, he crawled into the bed, next to Erina. She was so strange. Enjoying the company of angels... breaking her own wing, and refusing aid, hot and cold... he couldn't understand her. But she understood less of him. Allowing his hair to flow freely in the bed, some of it landing on Erina, he gazed at the ceiling. What would his life be like if he wasn't a vampire? Or if he didn't have the scars? Would he have even found himself with this group? Or would he be somewhere else? He would never know. Now however, he had to deal with the situation. Only then would he ever find peace. Both inner and outer.
Erina finally had a break in the images whirling through her mind. She sighed, happy not to have her mind busy.
Erina's brows furrowed and she rolled over. Rand's hair, though not very much pressure, had disturbed her sleep. Erina always slept light, which was why she had always woken up the second alittle light shone through her window in the mornings. Luckily, Erina had just been disturbed and not awakened.
The panther yawned in awakening. Jessica dropped to the ground. She licked her paw and scrub her face and ears. She hoped Lycan biter wouldn't see this. Jessica was grumpy in the mornings. She yawned again then streched. She sat and waited for everyone outside.
It had been a simple enchantment, but the lot had completely bought into it. A broken wing had halped distract them, but sometimes chance blows a favorable wind. They had gone to the witch's house for healing and rest, which was safer than some village, but complicated Lamiel's plans. A young witch, by appearances, but of unknown power and ability. At the very least, probably highly resistant to simple enchantments.
Lamiel had no intentions of sleeping within and possibly coming to some sort of magical face-off on the witch's home ground. The way the young vampire latched onto her immediately spoke of either strong and subtle magic or a risky snap judgement on the vampire's part. Both were worrisome and potentially dangerous.
It was interesting to the masked vampire's reactions, as well. So quick to bestow unwanted nicknames upon others, he flew into a rage at the wholly accurate appellation of "bloodsucker," and was very upset at the correct description of the way he took advantage of people. It spoke of a great deal of self-loathing, which would explain his driving need to be liked, even loved, by those around him. His readily admitted fixation on women would imply that the source of his pain and rage was likely from that quarter. Not a mother... a lover, perhaps? Lamiel wondered idly if he had hurt her or if she had hurt him. Possibly both.
Then the Lycan had refused to sleep in the witch's house. Ever the canny warrior, she had decided not to allow the witch to have total advantage over the little group under the perfectly reasonable guise of preferring to sleep out of doors. Had it not been for all the other little hints adding together, Lamiel could easily have believed it was other than a warrior's instinct directing that move. Jessica was a subtle and crafty one - an asset so long as their goals were aligned, but care would be required.
Regardless, Lamiel would wait outside as well. It would be conspicuous of her to do so openly, however, but that was no problem for the rest of the small group. The illusion might serve as a test of the witch's powers as well, in fact. So it was a dream-image of Lamiel lying in the bed that night, while the real angel never so much as stepped across the threshhold of the witch's cottage.
It was a simple matter to step into the image after it wandered out of doors again the next day.
Jessica turned into her human form and said "I think Erina and the other vampire are up." Miv said "Thank you" and went inside. Jessica followed her nose and found some strawberries. Good to know if she got hungry. Jessica went back to the cottage.