The Drusilla Experiment
Apr. 3rd, 2008 06:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookishwenchMy muse is running a little dry at the moment; hence, taken with permission from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
girlpire, whose Angel Experiment is a great deal of fun, I present the Drusilla Experiment.
Ask a question in the comments, and I'll get Drusilla to answer it. It can be about absolutely anything. She'll reply to every question - although I can't guarantee she'll give a direct answer. :) ...or in Dru's case, I can't guarantee a coherent answer.
Do be sure to check the comments though to make certain you're not asking a question someone else asked... that'd confuse poor Dru and make her think she was in a timewarp or something, and the dear doesn't need to have reality shift on her more than it already has. Oh, and I might want to put this up on Blackberry Patch eventually, so I may quote your questions.
(Also, yadda yadda, I'm not Joss, yadda yadda, I'm not Juliet, yadda yadda, I make no money from this.)
girlpire, whose Angel Experiment is a great deal of fun, I present the Drusilla Experiment.Ask a question in the comments, and I'll get Drusilla to answer it. It can be about absolutely anything. She'll reply to every question - although I can't guarantee she'll give a direct answer. :) ...or in Dru's case, I can't guarantee a coherent answer.
Do be sure to check the comments though to make certain you're not asking a question someone else asked... that'd confuse poor Dru and make her think she was in a timewarp or something, and the dear doesn't need to have reality shift on her more than it already has. Oh, and I might want to put this up on Blackberry Patch eventually, so I may quote your questions.
(Also, yadda yadda, I'm not Joss, yadda yadda, I'm not Juliet, yadda yadda, I make no money from this.)
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no subject
Date: 2008-04-04 11:34 pm (UTC)I know when I see what I like, yeah? Pretty boys what pay attention to a princess, and can dance, dance, dance from dawn til dusk until my feet leave bloody footprints over the floor. Sometimes I take a turn with a fellow (or lady, if the mood takes) for only an hour or so. Usually they ask to leave after that. Beg, really. And I let them go, fly away on feathery wings, white swans or black crows. But for a mate, ooo, he must sparkle and shimmer, diamond in the rrrrr-rough, and his shadow must have eyes to it.
Pretty Spike is mine, always. He flows through me, and I through him, eternal fountain springing in deadly red drops. Can't be parted, not at the core, not when I sing through him and he in me like a lullaby of dark wine. No moving on. All times are now. I shall have my darlings, but none shall have me.