[COW-T! Verse] Facer
Title: Facer
Fandom: COW-T! Verse
Pair: Team! Vampires + Team! Knights
Genre: General Supernatural
Rating: Orange
Warnings: One-Shot, What if, not for delicate stomachs
Word Count: 1915
Notes: Written for the Second Mission of the COW- T, "War."
As I said, the characters on which I wrote not belong to me and not my complete fabrication. I stopped to give him a name and a vague character, setting and a bit 'black and blue from time to time. Shot set at any time of the first week of the cow-t.
Facer mean blow, blow, difficulty sudden.
was night, half way between the fall and the rising of the sun, the air fizzes calm on the battlefield and the sky of dark clouds.
fighting, the knights bent by the weight of armor and supported by the pride of mankind, swords and helmets in his hands to cover his face. It was a battle that lasted for some time, perhaps more than any of them would have wanted, and things were not going well. Yorick
Wellington gasped, feeling the wind against scratching the dry throat, and a moment later swallowed in enriching silent lips. He moved cautiously, in that piece of grassy field which was his area, feeling the heart beating strongly to the rhythm of adrenaline that flowed in his veins.
The vampire in front of him, that mass of dead flesh that bore the name of Donald Lancaster and refused to wave the beginning, staring at him a few feet away with a smile to light up the face and ruined her clothes to witness to the fatigue.
"Then he was saying at that time the undead, casually stepping back a step. "How will you resolve this story, knight? "
He moved slowly to the sides and now back to the man, arms at your sides and hands aimed at clawing the air without a hiss. Not carry weapons, because the strength and the abomination was on his side, even if it could. It would have been easier, actually. Yorick
hardly waited to hear it, too busy to watch his movements. "What story? She asked, wondering how would one be so lacking in tactical training and give him much to suffer.
The vampire's smile became more marked, showing his white fangs that stand out from the black of night. There was no moon, and behind them was sparking a battle so hard to shake the bones.
He jumped forward and held out his arm, the rider instinctively raised his sword and struck a blow - he cut the air and nothing else, the body fluid of the youngest slipping beyond his reach.
"This war. "Laughed Donald, and Yorick realized I can not stand for that laugh. It was devoid of life, of feeling. How to nail that cut the glass, he expressed nothing but scorn seething challenge. "You do not think of winning, you think? "
Knight moved to the side, letting the tip of the blade along the dry soil. "Do not let my men die for no reason, vampire. "
you really believe that, in saying this because what his father had taught him was to not give up, fight until the end - until his death. Good has always won over evil, one way or another.
Someone shouted behind him, and the clash that followed warned him of the loss of one of his men. Yorick
wondered how long it would be passed before a significant victory.
"See? "The vampire spoke again, which did not show more than fifteen years. Too few to represent a real threat. "I speak of this. The angels have understood for some time. "The look of the rider
thinned soon, under the heavy helmet that symbolized his nature, without understanding. He was tempted to ask for an explanation, but what's more pressing at that time was to keep fighting. So advanced sharply, half shriek of fatigue and incitement to follow him, and struck a blow. The vampire dodged it so fast as to be irritating, Yorick was not to be discouraged and rotation around himself to cut the air in a side lunge - which surprisingly went to the mark with a sharp hiss of flesh cut.
"For-for all the prostitutes in London! "Donald cried then, and Yorick had a suspicion that quel'imprecazione if it were just invented. She heard him gasp and back away abruptly, took advantage groped to inflict another blow - and all I saw were the eyes of the vampire as pitch blacks who stood up to watch shooting, freezing and staring at him. "Try," he hissed, his hand on his hip and bust leaning forward. He might seem like a defensive posture, something had to pain and weight of the battle, but the knight he saw the anger ready to hurl at him like an enraged animal. Yorick
advanced sharply, tighten the grip on the hilt of the sword and drew back his arm to load the shot. The vampire did not move, he shook his head slightly, smiled without joy, disbelief, and as he got up on his back without moving, just in time to be skewered by the old blade that made him so abruptly back - but without falling.
There was a sigh, gasping as if the blood had risen from the stomach of the boy until the narrow gorge, and then there was nothing.
Donald snapped forward, for death was something that was too deep to overcome potersene leave, and extending both hands clenched against the neck of the human. They ended up on the ground and the sword pierced the youngest as melted butter, the blood began to flow like that Yorick and narrowed his eyes to the harsh impact. She gasped, because the armor was in his keeping it on the ground, and roll the helmet away by the wind began to blow fiercely over their heads. The
youngest seemed to cough on him, spit something I very much hope that the rider was blood, and took a deep breath so loudly that it seems just emerged from a long breath.
"Porca ..." he began to say, but did not want to end the curse. He did not move, remaining there to weigh down upon the body of the rider's hand-tightened to hold the hilt of the sword still stuck in the flesh-and remained for some time to breathe heavily. Then he seemed to click with his tongue, puffing and pulling a bit 'up.
" See? I can not die, knight. "It
seemed satisfied, and in a sense, almost proud. Yorick stared at him, surprised to be still more alive than the rest, looking for something to say.
"Nothing prevents me from trying. 'Then he mumbled in response, almost annoyed. The battle was raging far away from their eyes, how noisy it was a war going on and and equally uncertain, and nobody cared at that mass of flesh that were dirty both on the ground.
Donald smiled again, turning her lips into a crooked grin, and when the other had to lift a hand pressed to keep him on the shoulder down. "You're the only one, at this point. "
" This riddle begins to dry "Yorick said a moment later, panting in pain. He stared at the sky, high and far over their heads, the arm that was beginning to rebel against the iron too close on the hilt of the sword. But the knight would never let go of pride and because it was his only way of salvation. He thought he could take the opportunity to cut it in two, as I was, but the position was too uncomfortable and had a suspicion that the blade was wedged between the ribs.
"No enigma" he said with a half laugh, the youngest, the sword that was moving to the rhythm of his breathing labored. "I'm just saying that you humans are the only ones who fight us. "
" This is not true. "The knight frowned and stared at the vampire, their eye fixed on its movements. "The Seer said ..."
"Seer Seer Seer," he said to the Donald, pulling out his tongue like a brat. "Are you all to listen to as idiots, when the outcome This battle is so obvious to me sick. "There was
boredom, in the words of the vampire, but also as a soft barely concealed anger. He reached out with one shot and grabbed one of the annoying knight, shook his wrist with such force as to collide with each other nerves and snorted. "Why do you believe that angels are so remained on the sidelines all this time? "
" What are you ... "The vampire's
just yanked his arm as if to draw your attention, as to sign him to keep quiet. "Shut up" annoyed him silenced, suddenly out of sorts. He put the wrist that held tight between his fingers to the mouth, without touching it. He just close your eyes and inhale, silently.
Yorick and suddenly felt terribly out of place, uncomfortable. Not thrilled me, because he had an honor to defend, but he began to think more quickly than the first way to get out of that situation. The only thing that came to mind was to buy time, at least for the moment.
"What are you talking about? He asked, then, perhaps too hastily. In part, he was curious, perhaps even suspicious, then that would really speak some good.
Donald opened his eyes, focusing on those brown rider, and her lips pursed in a smile without teeth.
"I really do not think you have, you and your people? He seemed amused, almost calm and quiet, mischievous. "You're the only ones that move so much, for this useless battle. You people, you knights and wizards. "
He paused, letting him look down there where the silver- ended in the red blade of his flesh, with no possibility of it be restored, and seemed almost distracted. Yorick
just gasped, because his arm had begun to tremble, and slightly loosened grip on the hilt. He knew that if he let her go would be his end-not that the current situation would turn more in his favor, but still keep it in your hand do not seem to lead nowhere.
He hoped at least that the vampire was suffering, in everything.
"It seems to me that you people you're fighting over all of us put together, however. " tried to provoke him, to move a little 'situation. Donald
snorted, shrugging his shoulders, his thin lips and frowned in an infantile pout. He then returned to set the pulse of man, there where his iron grip forced to bare the veins.
"Fighting is the most convenient and fastest way to get food. "Said unstressed, discontented. Scroll left his teeth on the taut skin of the other and felt a shiver hold. "But this is not the point. "
Knight wondered, not without some trepidation, what was the point and how fast it would take Donald to get there.
"You humans do not understand, however, that you can never win. Neither spells nor with swords "tapped a couple of fingers on the blade to mark the concept" because those who criticize us as much vampire is your conviction. He just leaned forward, pulling his arm but the other so tight and taking over his shoulder. "Mortality, knight, you humans are so damn deadly. "
" And you're so damn talkative, Donald. "Retorted the man with sore exasperation, shaking just under the weight of the other. What
laughed, taste and heartless, ending with the last shake their heads and sigh. He leaned toward Yorick, the rice still lighting up his eyes and put his tongue in enriching lips.
"So cavalier. "Called him back, blood still flowed from the dead. He stared into his eyes, silent, and leaned her face aside. The wind
blew strong and impetuous, crossed the battlefield as a heart-rending cry and then ran away, far away from everything that could happen at any moment.
"What can we do? "
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