Zed’s entrance through the open window stifles the whistling of the breeze, and he draws his armblades at once when he sees that… creature. It leans over his target, claws dripping with a blood that spurts from the man’s chest like a geyser and onto the tiles, his clothing, and even parts of that demon’s body.
A demon. It had to be, Zed thinks, from the unnatural complexion of its shape and the inhuman glow of her eyes. Ionia was host to many fantastical beasts, and Zed had slain plenty of dangerous oni and other hellish creatures, but she… she was different.
“I’ve come to do a job,” he starts. He can feel his arms trembling, and he balls his hands into fists as he tries to steady himself. She seemed almost cloaked in shadows, wispy black shapes that were a sharp contrast to the whiteness of her hair and the paleness of her skin.
“But it seems you’ve beaten me to it.” Zed wagers he can hold his ground. At the very least, no matter how fast she struck, he could avoid her at the distance he was at. What was this shade? What was a demon like her doing in an aristocrat’s villa?
“And you? Is blood the only thing you’re looking for?”
“ the only thing? oh, no... ”
evelynn straightens, fingers splayed out on the man’s ruined chest as she leisurely stretches from claw to lasher-tip, shifting to face the new arrival fully. she notes, idly, how he tightens his muscles to mask his shudder, and licks her lips at the sight -- at the sensation of his suppressed fear, barely-there, but still enough to entice.
she swings her legs over the corpse, to the side of the mattress, and stands. crimson-stained teeth glint in the dark when she smiles, and her footfalls are silent as she takes a languid step forward.
“ ... no, I know who you are. I was waiting for you. ”
it’s a lie, but so is all of it -- the flirtation, the form, the familiarity. she lets the words hang for a moment, fangs bared in a wide grin, before her shoulders start to shake and she can suppress the laugh that rises in her throat no longer. it echoes around them unnaturally, the sound fading in and out, and then subsides into silence.
“ -- is what i would say, if you were at all my type. keep quivering, though... ”
a shrug of her shoulders as she examines her claws, then extends them in one fluid motion -- a threat,
or, an invitation.
“ ...i could be persuaded to change my mind. ”
