GLoG XXXII: The Loved and the Lost

[Ashen Lilies]

Sirk, though disappointed, drinks in Wispy's fear. Yum yum!
Lucretia frowns. Just because they lacked a pulse didn't mean you could discriminate against them! Goddamn racists! I mean, sure her traveling companion was all scary like, and had a hood and a scythe and all those other cliche Death motifs, but that doesn't mean you have to run away first sight! Though, to be fair, Lucretia knew that Sirk was probably getting a giant kick out of the fear. Damn Banshees and their perverse ways of getting off! Why couldn't they just have sex and drink fine wine blood for pleasure, like normal people (and vampires)! Yeah, that's right, vampires! Not those horrible rotting zombies that decay all over your imported carpet. 'Zombies' indeed. Could he not have the decency to recognize a vampire when he sees one!? And maybe-
...
And then the sexy dude came and made it all better.

Lucretia leans forward, subtly displaying her 'assets'.
"Weeelllll," she began, drawing out the word in a tantalizing manner, "as my friend here said before we were so rudely accused of being zombies," she smiles then, as if finding the merest notion of being mistaken for a zombie absurd (which, to be fair, it pretty much is), "we've come representing NO, and would so like to come in out of this horrid sunshine."