Drusilla is a very sociable (and completely mad) vampire. She loves meeting new people, and is, consequently, always open for plotting and RP.

As a mun, I welcome criticism and advice, as well as canon corrections (if necessary). No one is infallible, and, although this is my interpretation of Drusilla, I welcome input from other fans and writers. It’s nice to know what works and what doesn’t!

Comments are screened, just in case, but you're very welcome to contact me on AIM or by email if you prefer. The details are all in my journal profile.

I can also be reached fairly easily via my personal journal, atraphoenix, but please note that I am in the UK and currently operating on GMT.

Can you hear that, Miss Edith? Someone's talking to us.

Hear them whispering. Such serious little whispers. Such serious little faces.

We're listening.

It was raining in Prague. Their suite was bright and golden – just like the pretty little girl that Spike had found for their supper – but the greyness of the skies and bleakness of the sodden city seeped in through the curtains. It was almost enough to choke Drusilla. It filled up her head until she wanted to scream with frustration. The heavens shouldn’t have opened. They were supposed to remain closed to the likes of her. She’d been marked for the devil from the day of her birth and claimed by him forever on the day of her death. When she’d risen from the ground, as white as a ghost and with soil in her hair, she’d stepped forward without ever looking back towards the light that she’d lost.

(“Don’t worry, princess,” Spike had murmured, kissing her bare shoulder as he sprawled out on the bed beside her. “The rain’ll clear up soon and then we can go out and find out who’s worth killing in this city.”)

( She was lucky to have her darling deadly boy. They never had any difficulty entertaining themselves, though he’d drifted off to sleep now. She must have tired him out.Collapse )

Player Nickname: Emma
Player LJ: atraphoenix
AIM: atravenenum
Email: atraphoenix@hotmail.co.uk

Character: Drusilla
Fandom: Angel / Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Current Canon Point: Following Darla's resurrection.

( Character NotesCollapse )

- dramadramaduck tag
- permissions

Although the sun had set over an hour ago, Taxon wasn't ready to sleep. (It was a city made up of the dead and the broken and the dangerous and the damned. It couldn't sleep.) The air was singing to her, crackling with fear and confusion and anger and a maelstrom of other delightful emotions that thrilled Drusilla to the core.

(When it had started, she'd knelt down on the grass, burrowing her fingers through the cool green blades until she'd stained her nails with soil and felt the very pulse of the city beneath her palm. It was only as alive as the people who lived there made it. It was alive now.)

Who would they bring to her? Who would she get to see again?

She thought of the missing parts of her family - not just her darling deadly boy and her grandmother, but the daughter who hadn't been born yet and the brother who might never come to be and the not-quite-cousin she'd treasured - with affection. With love. The chance to see them again would be even sweeter than Christmas.

She thought of the friends - could she really call them that? - that she had made and lost since coming to the city. Men from the stars and princesses from the past. A collection almost as precious (and certainly as strange) as her dear little family.

Although she hadn't been a good girl recently, she walked confidently - softly, swiftly, a shadow among the shadows - through the city.

If the hamsters told Father Christmas to give her coal instead of diamonds again, she'd rip their eyes out.

The night was black as coal. The same colour as her heart. The same colour as a tongue that had been corrupted by filthy little lies. Usually, Drusilla would have relished that. But things were different now.

She and her new doll had been together for a week, feasting and dancing and drinking in the moonlight. Full of potential, she was. For goodness or for wickedness, depending on who found her first.

For Drusilla, the path was as clear as the blade of a knife. She had found Alice first. She would fashion her sweet little girl into the vampire that she deserved to be.

Angelus had sculpted her. Now it was time for his little girl to make a masterpiece of her own.

"Alice?" she murmured, slipping silently into her companion's hotel room, "Are you dreaming?"

What are you dreaming of, my dear? Are you seeing the future I'm going to build for you?

Character Name: Drusilla (AU) [a_pretty_fire]
Species: Vampire
Abnormal Abilities, if any?: The strengths that come with her species, along with a few psychic gifts. (Visions of the future, a knack for hypnosis and occasionally unnerving insight, for the most part.)

( TL;DR Ahead!Collapse )

No.

There isn't enough room. I'm made up of blood and flesh. I'm filled up with secrets. There isn't room for a soul, not even for a little while.

I'll scratch your eyes out! I'll rip your throat out! I'll never be good. I can't be good. The wickedness is already inside. Can't you smell it? Can't you feel it?

I don't have the coins for the boatman. We'll all have to pay for the mess.

(Although this story doesn't feature a particular version of Ten, I can’t pretend that I didn’t have rude_not_ginger in mind when I was writing it.)

( Ten Trips Still to be TakenCollapse )

Prompt: Ten Trips Still to be Taken
Word Count: 3017