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"Indeed it woudl be sad to see her pumped full of UV... but i bet her screams are even more melodic then her voice." Armand was sitting ona a gargoyle high atop a building watchign the goings on from a godo distance. he had a small d3evice in his hand, and he was tightening the last bolt in it. over the course of watchign them, he had placed a few more pieces onto the contraption, but he dare not turn it on. through the church, he had gathered some rather special pieces of equip,ment. a cross blessed by pope john paul II, a rosary once held by Padre Pio and blessed at metragorge. it all led up tot the fact he was building a weapon, and it was going to be a BLAST. he spun the revolving barrel in the middle and it clicked into place on the top of its screwholder. it was made of white gold and silver, and there where even parts that contained UV fluid. everything wwas specialized and it took a fair amoutn of work just to get this small almost soccerball sized orb JUst perfect.
" I wonder what you'll do next, littel cossette...how does a porcelain doll fight..." Armand chuckled with a scrwewdriver in his mouth. he took out the rosary and fitted it into its canister, shoving and twisting it into position with a small click. he made no attempt to be quiet, he was half a mile up, and just as far away, he was mearly watching the gogings on, only hearing bits and pieces of the unpleasant banter the opposing sides shared during battle.

The vast majority of Stan's movie referencing insults flew right over her pretty little head. It was pretty obvious too, because for a long moment Cosette just stood there starring at him with a rather blank and clueless expression marring her young face. She did of course understand that Stan, Who was bleeding all over the ground and causing a horrible mess just so happened to imply that Alasdair was better than her. And Cosette, Ever the narcissist didn't pause for a moment to consider the thought that poor broken nosed Stan might just be attempting rile her up or maybe distract her. Instead, Cosette just got upset and started running her mouth off the way she commonly did when she wasn't willing to resort just yet to violence.
“Cool?” The word sounded awkward on her tongue, out of place amongst the century old accent as she mimicked Stan. “How can he...” Cosette paused, Just long enough to lazily wave a white hand in Alasdair's direction before she started speaking again, rather hastily. “Be any better than me. Just look at him, He's dancing all about like a stupid monkey dodging your petty bullets and showing off that ugly coat. A coat he's probably only wearing because he is scared of the wonderful fact that he can't dodge everything. “
“So here's just a thought birdie, I could slip past all your bullets at point blank range and still managed to tear open your throat. So to correct you, Yes I am better than Alasdair. All he has is his fancy guns, a petty coat and pathetic shadows. And then there is me, In all my dazzling glory and swift reflexes.” The entire speech was topped off with a little 'hmpf' as Cosette hiked up her button nose in a purely snobbish move, pleased to have made her point.

Cosette could hear Armand in the distance, rambling on about in commentary to the scene below him. She didn't turn about to look for his taller than average figure, Cosette was positive that she would lose focus and drop bonds of her invisible cage if she set her eyes on anything other than the deliciously bleeding Stan. “You should clean up your mess, Birdie. It's not very polite to go bleeding in the presence of vampires. Get's them rowdy, You know.”

“Ewwww!” Cosette jumped back, retreating a step away from the vile display. At the same instant, She smacked her hand against the wall, blocking out the horrid sight. If Cosette had been stupid enough to reach past the barrier, She might very well have smacked Stan right upside the head for being so vulgar and rude. Seriously, Men this century were just pigs. Absolutely no manners at all.
“As if I would take the precious time out of my night to make some fancy little puppet vampire out of you. You would make a horrible vampire anyways. You'd probably accident blow yourself up with all those fancy weapons and and end up as some horribly marred and gruesome creature for all century. And then, instead of trying to figure out ways to pump other vampires with UV and destroy them, You'd have all the time in the world to think of wonderful and creative ways to commit suicide. “ A taint of scorn touched her melodic voice, finding it insulting that Stan would even compare her motives for trapping him to be as unoriginal and boring as other's of her race might have done. Regardless of just how tempting it might have been to make some hideous creature out of him to teach he back-talking hunter a valuable life lesson....Don't be mean to Cosette.
While she would not be be inconvenienced by turning him into a dazzling creature of the night or sullying her perfect little hands with a death; Cosette wasn't short of torturing. In fact, It was her favorite thing to do. You see, Cosette was getting tired of Stan running his mouth off, the cynical four-eyed hunter that had a perfectly witty and sarcastic comeback for everything she thought she had been so clever to say. So, Instead of causing a mess and ripping out a tongue; Cosette once again fixed her delicate focus on the unseen Stan container. It not only closed in just the slightest bit more, but began absorbing the oxygen contained within it at an alarming rate. Give it a minute and poor Stan would be gasping for air like a wiggling fish. It wasn't because humans needed air to survive, but simply because Stan needed air to keep talking.

“Oh just shut up. I'm far from 'marred and gruesome', but of course; You wouldn't know perfection if it smacked up upside your head. I doubt you can even see two feet in front of you considering you are wearing those horrendous glasses.” Cosette crossed her arms over that poorly endowed chest, impatiently tapping her foot and waited with batted breath for Stan to show signs of discomfort as he realized his precious oxygen was no more. That ought to teach him. Of course, The instant Stan motioned for the air to be returned, Cosette's lips broke into an ecstatic smile.
“See, There! I like that better. Sil-ence.” Cosette muttered, accentuating the lovely word to make her point painfully clear, counting the syllables on her slender fingers. “ I win. You lose, You poor little birdie.” She realized that she sounded awfully childish,But she was elated with her victory. Cosette had for once, Accomplished something. Even if it was merely trapping and shutting up a loud-mouth human armed with fancy weapons.
She was itching to just close the box in on Stan. Squeeze him into a bloody pulp watch lovely Stan juices stain the ground in a gruesome display. But then again, No one had ever before so blatantly argued with her, insulted her left and right and acted just as painfully childish as Cosette might have when Stan kept sticking his tongue out at her. And it would have been downright cheating if she just killed him now, He wouldn't have even had a moment to defend himself. Cosette liked it better when they had ample time to squirm and suffer.

“If you had just been a good bird from the beginning, You wouldn't have ended up in such a predicament. How long can you hold your breath? I bet it's not...” Cosette's voice trailed off to an incoherent mutter as she pulled one of those white hands to her forehead, hesitating as her entire body went deathly still. In that instant, Cosette's entire focus drifted from her mocking bird and fixed on something else entirely.
A distant roar had leaked into her head, An irritating and mind numbing noise. The sudden crack forming along the drugged up noise filter caused her to do a swift mental calculation, doubling back and recounting right down to nanoseconds from the time of her last injection of Luther's magnificent drug. Cosette had exactly one minute and thirty two seconds left before the drug would swiftly thin out of her system and Stan would be free. Already, Her control was beginning to waver. Air was leaking back into the cage, Which also meant there were tiny holes melting away at her barrier.
Cosette's precious attention never returned to the suffocating Stan, She was too busy cupping her head between those small white hands and tugging at her luscious golden curls. With the effects of a dreadful withdraw already showing, along with it returned her awful headaches to grace Cosette with a head splitting distraction. She should have known better, Should have realized the horrid and painful noise would be so much worse than before. Hammering with over use, obvious evidence that Cosette wasn't meant to wield such power without terrible repercussions.
It was probably quiet obvious to Stan and the other vampires that Cosette had suddenly either managed to give herself a brain freeze, Or more likely might be suffering a brain hemorrhage due to the sudden withdraw and over exhaust of her delicate mind.

Alasdair walked in a slow mortal pace mid way towards the hunter. He stopped as soon as Alasdair saw blood flowing freely from the hunter’s nose. So it seemed that Cosette had managed to trap the brave hunter in her childish barrier. Every time Alasdair thought about her futile attempts of power, it made the vampire laugh. Anyone with real power could see through the drug crazed vampire’s little attack. It was filled with holes and there where countless ways of counteracting the trap. You could make Cosette lose focus on the box; there was also the waiting game. Since Cosette’s power came from a time limited drug, which caused her horrible drawbacks. So if someone just waited patiently until she drew her limit, then they would be home free.

Thus Alasdair waited patiently to see what Cosette was going to do with the hunter. The vampire crossed his arms against his UV soiled chest and waited. He was standing perfectly straight and balanced, and with a slight grin growing in his lips at the sight of little Cosette getting so worked up over something so meaningless as the words of a desperate hunter. It seemed that the girl was truly weak to let such pathetic words affect her. But Alasdair already knew that, he was counting on a smart hunter to figure out the young vampire.

Time passed and the hunter was still alive and messing with Cosette’s head, while Cosette slowly lost power and concentration. At once his violet eyes saw when the girl began sucking the air out of the invisible box, which was the most obvious and natural when you have that kind of power. She was so foolish to leave that attack for the end. If she really wanted to play with her victim, then she should have slowly sucked the air out without him noticing, while she thought of a greater attack. Maybe she should have shrunk the box and leaven just enough space for the walls to press against the opponents body.

Then again it was no longer Alasdair’s fight; Cosette had selfishly stolen his opponent. But Alasdair was not really a vampire to care about that sort of things, a dead hunter was good no matter who the killer was. After all, food was not a problem on the vast city of New York.

Cosette had lost. It was apparent when her concentration faltered and the drug wore off. Alasdair smiled and uncrossed his arms, then began to walk towards Cosette. “Cosette!” He barked at her. “You silly girl, you lost when your opponent was in your grasps… Junkie.” Alasdair added with a commanding voice. He knew that Cosette had screwed up because of that pathetic drug. Even though the hunter had fallen unconscious, Cosette was unable to keep fighting. Alasdair reached the side of the hunter and grinned against as he looked down at the hunter. “Brave indeed…” Whispered Alasdair under his breath, then he looked back up to Cosette.

((Ugh, Wrote too much -stabs-))

Whoops. It was one of the few conscious thoughts Cosette had as she cupped her pounding head, watching from the corner of her eyes as poor Stan fell over over and passed out from the lack of oxygen. She hadn't exactly intended to take it so far because she had wanted to toy with him some more, continue on with that childish banter until it was undeniably clear that she was right and he was perfectly wrong. But, the game was all over now. It had ended the instant the drug began thinning out and Cosette could no longer hold the four walled barrier strong. Neither won and all Cosette had managed to do is make an idiot out of herself.
“Oh, Shut up. Both of you. I don't need your damn commentary.” Cosette quite nearly growled out in response, such an unpleasant and dreadfully unbecoming reaction from the doll faced girl. “I was just having fun, But of course when you get soooo horribly old, I guess you wouldn't understand the word anymore.”
She really wanted to just ignore the pair as they took turns scorning her for 'failing' and not 'killing the Hunter' because it was pulling her delicate attention span thin, causing her to focus on more than one thing when the only object she ought to be fixing her focus on was filtering out the noise. This was exactly why she hated New York. It was too loud. Louder now it seemed, As she was trying to manage the effects of a withdraw. Hideyo's challenge did however manage to snatch her immediate focus as Cosette's mouth dropped open in unspoken disagreement. Didn't she realize Cosette was sort of having a crisis here? Or that, As high up as pride was up on her snobbish list, Cosette simply wouldn't have it in her to turn down a challenge despite her better judgment?

She wasn't cleared if Hideyo had intended Cosette to 'squash' Stan with her bare hands or kinetic energy, But Cosette swiftly decided there was absolutely no way she was going to dirty her perfect little hands simply to prove a point. From the beginning, Cosette never had any intentions of killing Stan. Cosette had a terrible habit of playing with the prey, Luther had witnessed that first hand when Cosette took the time to shatter and pop nearly every bone in one poor women before she had at last murdered her. But short of scaring Stan, teaching him lesson, She had never wanted to murder Stan. He wouldn't miss a foot though, Would he? And that ought to be enough to prove that Cosette could 'squash' the Hunter if she was so inclined to kill him.
Cosette took one heavy, melodramatic calming breath to make it painfully obvious what a chore it was as she set those eyes on Stan's unconscious figure. Like earlier when she had tested it out upon Luther, Cosette focused all her will on Stan, on closing in a swift little box that would fracture bone and completely demolish. Just when Cosette thought she might actually be capable of pulling off such a feat without the aid of drugs, There was a police siren from down blow racing along the street. The sound was so amplified on her fragile hearing that it completely shattered her concentration. In one swift instant, She lost her focus and misjudged. The only things that ended up getting squashed in a sudden explosion was the gravel to the left of Stan's body and her pride.

A desperate little squeak escaped Cosette's lips as she gripped her head again, whimpering at the repercussions of trying to over stress her delicate mind. But At least she was making a bit of head way. There seemed to be just the slightest ounce of improvement in her broken abilities, Because never before without the aid of the drug had Cosette been able to use telekinesis.
“Just get away from him. He's mine.” She mumbled, Horribly upset with herself and both Hideyo for pressuring poor Cosette into something and Alasdair for just being there and standing too close to Stan. Cosette marched right over to Stan's Body, Or at least she tried to look defiant and calm as she stumbled over there, Nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. While it seemed ever other one of her abilities had been hindered by the lack of the drug, Cosette was still incredibly swift as she reached the slender arms down to grasp her fingers around Stan's wrists. She probably looked awfully silly, because she started tugging him across the roof top in the other direction, searching for that fire escape so she could leave, Toting the poor hunter along with her. She began calling out for Luther, Both muttering his name and sending out fragmented and broken mental calls for him to come rescue her. If he didn't show up, She was just going to have to drag Stan's sorry butt all the way back to Luther's apartment.

((Sorry, I wasn't quite sure if DNY was in need of another Rambo+Merlin+Speedy Gonzalez+The Juggernaut esque character. Anyways, I got places to go.))

Stan was unconscious. And as an unconscious person, he didn't say much. Which was possibly the best way Cosette and the others liked him. It would tempt them, of course, to kill the foolish hunter. If a quiet Stan was great then making it permanent was possibly the most stupendous thing that had ever happened in their dark-aligned lives. Other than biting people and finding excuses to dress up for Halloween every day.

((Jack and the Beanstalk!))