[D isn't doing anything out there at all... Definitely not vampire stuff. Just chilling... alone, away from everyone, tinkering.
If it hadn't been obvious the black, horned steed was a cyborg, the faint noises coming from the stable might be taken as D sharpening a nice, vampire hunting weapons. But as Eustace peers in, he'll see D sitting on a very low stool at the horse's flank without any of the grandiose additions to his outfit. (Just the "onesie"...) He's even missing the hat.
The closest horse's leg is bent up on the top of D's knee, and the calf panel lies open for D's long fingers and screwdriver to dig inside the wiry innards. Eustace's arrival earns a light huff through the horse's nose; the red eyes are already watching the man. D could hear Eustace's footfall from the house, but he finishes what he's doing before he slowly lifts his head. At first, he doesn't glance back. He watches Eustace's reflection in the gleaming black of the horse's metal leg plates.
And then slowly, D turns his head just enough toward his shoulder he can cut his eyes at Eustace. The red, fuzzy dotted glow on the horse's leg makes more sense now: there's a subtle carnelian hue to D's eyes, easy to spot surrounded by his thick, dark lashes.]
Do you need something?
[The tone of his voice hasn't changed--low, deep--but the sound hold a strange and alluring sensuality now.]
not the juice box
If it hadn't been obvious the black, horned steed was a cyborg, the faint noises coming from the stable might be taken as D sharpening a nice, vampire hunting weapons. But as Eustace peers in, he'll see D sitting on a very low stool at the horse's flank without any of the grandiose additions to his outfit. (Just the "onesie"...) He's even missing the hat.
The closest horse's leg is bent up on the top of D's knee, and the calf panel lies open for D's long fingers and screwdriver to dig inside the wiry innards. Eustace's arrival earns a light huff through the horse's nose; the red eyes are already watching the man. D could hear Eustace's footfall from the house, but he finishes what he's doing before he slowly lifts his head. At first, he doesn't glance back. He watches Eustace's reflection in the gleaming black of the horse's metal leg plates.
And then slowly, D turns his head just enough toward his shoulder he can cut his eyes at Eustace. The red, fuzzy dotted glow on the horse's leg makes more sense now: there's a subtle carnelian hue to D's eyes, easy to spot surrounded by his thick, dark lashes.]
Do you need something?
[The tone of his voice hasn't changed--low, deep--but the sound hold a strange and alluring sensuality now.]