Whoever in the world said that blood pops were a good idea deserved to be drawn and quartered. In an attempt to listen to Ishmael – admit it aloud or not, the vampire did feel bad about that last debutante brat having such a...un-pure ending – Zel had gotten hold of a few blood pops and decided to dig into them when she'd gotten hungry.

It hadn't even been a full 24 hours yet and she could already feel her sense of usually boundless energy fading. She'd just decided to try and have another go when Ishmael came in without as much as a "by your leave" and shoved a paper in her face. The scowl that appeared on her face was slightly less intimidating than usual seeing as she had been halfway through biting the last bit of the blood pop.

Before she flicked the last remains of the pop at the wall, Azazel's eyes flitted to the newspaper. Of course she knew who that prissy was. Without a hitch in her breath, she placed her hands on her perch and lept on the ground before sighing. "I do miss the days when knocking was one's custom." she said loftily, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder and turning her back to him and grabbing another blood pop. "Where are your manners, my darling?"

It was compulsory. She didn't think of doing it really, but it was reflex at this point as she threw a glance over her shoulder and gave him a sly smirk. It was all she could do to not giggle.