The low, bass filled music had long since ceased to play during our lengthy, solitary conversation from within the shop. It had provided a gloomy atmosphere, one that I generally thrived from, and enjoyed working in. With the lack of music, I had been forced to listen to Isolt, though it was less painful than I had originally imagined said interaction might have been. She spoke with a musical voice, emotive and soft that made listening to her effortless, and encouraged me to respond in a manner that was far more pleasant than I had thought possible. As the cacophony generated from the incessant rapping increased despite my minute efforts to fortify the shop's front door, the tone of the vampire's emotive speech quickly descended into something so deceptively flat that it was very simple to look past the uniform tone and note the palpable fear swimming the undercurrent of her words. Her eyes mirrored the very thing itself, as if fear could draw it's ugly head out of the soft azure of her eyes. The only thing noticeable in my irascible eyes was a flicker of familiar annoyance, directly regarding the scratching at front door. She didn't know he who came to call? With a sigh, I sought a less comfortable position to draw myself up from the ease with which I had regarded Isolt, and concentrate my attention on the intruder.

"Unless you've some kind of pamphlet, I'm not interested in what you're selling."

While it was clear this intruder was not a salesman, my distaste for customers and, well, intruders of all shapes and sizes, my words reflected that I was neither phased by his attempt to enter the shop, nor was I amused with his choice of penetration. The tell-tale squeal of the door's hinges becoming un-melded saw my jaw grit, if only because I had recently replaced said door from a relatively similar entry by a friendly leopard.

"I hate solicitors."

The quip was directed at Isolt, my tone even as if to reassure her that this wasn't something that worried me. If anything, it merely found me exasperated and giving me a reason to reach for a disturbed, angry reaction that would have been cast on some innocent, unsuspecting individual had this vampire not arrived on scene. As if sizing up what I might be able to do if the â€" and then the stench hit me. Undead flesh often made my skin prickle, the offending aroma awakening the magic I was fortunate enough to have that desperately wanted to manipulate said flesh. Really, could she have picked a better stalker? The irritation began to subside as I found amusement in the way he leaned upon the grate until I let the metal bow under his weight, and send him into the belly of the shop. The vampire's voice is like salt exfoliating an already aggravated wound that was my hearing, and upon his verbal affront disguised as an ill-seeded compliment, my Shadow slides against the wall, unbidden before standing in the doorway to block the vampire's exit. I could hear myself groan at this development as my Shadow was often as inconvenient as they come with a mind acting on whims I couldn't understand, though his size fills the gap where the grate had been situated. It dawns on me that I should probably act quickly as to prevent any kind of panic on either vampires' side, so with little effort the vampire is pinned against the floor by his very flesh, aided by a metal bear-trap that falls from the ceiling as if made for that moment.

I felt the corner of my lips curl into a smirk, obviously satisfied with the system of events. In a sing-song voice, my words would be received as a "told-you-so" sort of jaunt at Isolt, before my attention and intention would turn pointedly towards the insistent male vampire now held prisoner against the floor of the shop.

"This is why I hate vampires," I started, my eyebrows knitting together in an exasperated fashion. "First, you come in once we're closed. Second, you don't bring me a pamphlet on your religion. I think you need a lesson in door-to-door witnessing. Have you found your savior yet?"

Maybe it would have been prudent to understand that the taunts would turn the vampire into the leech-Hulk, but that idea didn't penetrate my thick skull. At the end of my words, he stood through the trap and through whatever kind of restraints I may have made, allowing my features to draw in surprise. Maybe it was time to eat my words. With a huff, I shook my head and my Shadow tapped the vampire on the shoulder. If the vampire decided to strike, I would feel whatever pain it inflicted upon my Shadow, but the darkness could fight remotely for me... For us, so that Isolt wouldn't have to face the man who had come calling.