(no subject)

[somepoorsoul]

The night is damp and chilly for May, but that has not stopped the university’s young revelers from stumbling about in drunken celebration, even past midnight. Athos only ever comes this far north to visit the stables, and it is strange to be here so late at night, amongst the older, more scattered houses, stuffed full of students nine months out of the year. Outside the university, neighborhoods fall away to countryside fairly quickly; it is no surprise that so many could so easily go missing.

Athos has spoken little during their late-night trek to the edge of campus, thoughts focused, as best he can, on the task at hand. Is he glad that Porthos agreed to come along, or nervous? He still trusts Porthos with his life, and always will, but he fears that the man has been guilted or coerced into this venture. Believing what he does (knowing what he does), why would he follow Athos anywhere?

But they are here now. Athos leans against a lamppost that leaves him half-illuminated. Celebrants are now stumbling home in ones and twos, and fewer of them seem out and about. If the vampires intend to strike tonight, it will likely be soon, now that most students have gone home, leaving the more foolish (and the more drunk) to venture into the darkness alone and vulnerable. He glances at Aramis, their "bait" for the night, and then, briefly, meets Porthos' gaze. “Still up for this?" he asks them both.

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[afineseamstress]

Head bent, Aramis finishing tying his hair up into one of topknots the young men prefer these days, trying not to shiver with anticipation when a breath of wing tickles at his exposed neck. That same wind tickles his cheeks as well, now shorn and bare to increase the youthfulness of his appearance. Aramis scrubs a hand over their unusual smoothness and puts the glasses on as well, many times a prop in his and Porthos' adventures, now another piece of his disguise.

Spreading his hands, Aramis turns a circle for them both. "Don't I look ready?"