[Water crashes into him, or Marcel crashes into water. It glops more than it foams, breaking over his shoulders and threatening to close over his head, when his feet sink into silty mud below. Vampire reflexes negotiate the traitorous slime below, and he rights himself out an instant later. Emerges in chest-deep water, blinking, spitting the foul taste of it out. It sounds a little bit more adorable than it actually is.
Because there are veins growing in black around his eyes, and fangs sharpening down out of his mouth. It's as reflexive to him as the fetal position would be to an ordinary man. Even the most whitebread, dull-witted, or incompetent of mortals know to get the fuck down and out of the way when their sense of threat twinges. It is profoundly the opposite for vampires. When you're built in with free set of predator features, you'll fall back on them sooner than not.
The next instant, he's gone. A needling spatter of falling water drops traces a line across the surface of the water, tracing the path of his flight.
Leap, actually.
And he lands hard on a demon-- right by you, maybe behind you, or perhaps the creature was on you. It's staggering aside now. His sodden boots and blunt elbows landing with bone-cracking force, then his hands blurring out to twist aside the monster's hooded head. He bites down, fangs flashing in the eerie green light of the open rift. Only to snatch his head back the next instant, his face creased into a grimace that's probably almost funny.] What the Hell? [Maybe that question is even for you!]
Marcel Gerard | OTA
Because there are veins growing in black around his eyes, and fangs sharpening down out of his mouth. It's as reflexive to him as the fetal position would be to an ordinary man. Even the most whitebread, dull-witted, or incompetent of mortals know to get the fuck down and out of the way when their sense of threat twinges. It is profoundly the opposite for vampires. When you're built in with free set of predator features, you'll fall back on them sooner than not.
The next instant, he's gone. A needling spatter of falling water drops traces a line across the surface of the water, tracing the path of his flight.
Leap, actually.
And he lands hard on a demon-- right by you, maybe behind you, or perhaps the creature was on you. It's staggering aside now. His sodden boots and blunt elbows landing with bone-cracking force, then his hands blurring out to twist aside the monster's hooded head. He bites down, fangs flashing in the eerie green light of the open rift. Only to snatch his head back the next instant, his face creased into a grimace that's probably almost funny.] What the Hell? [Maybe that question is even for you!]