((We should really start soon before the RP simply dies out.))
((We should really start soon before the RP simply dies out.))
How Cute!! <3
~*~ Character sheet ~*~
Name: Ruki Lox
Age: 100; appears (forever) 13
Lux- A seemingly delicate butterfly with obsidian rings etched upon his brilliantly blue wings. The blue background decked upon his wings like fabric emits a soothing light, as if bringing a calm wherever he goes. However, this is a ruse. He truly foretells destruction, the piercing spikes of black splintering the outer portion of his wings foreshadowing immense pain. The mere sight of Lux to humans signals an intolerable darkness and suffocation caused from your own blood, a fate far more tormenting than a mere phase of anemia. Of course, Lux is just a messenger of death, acting as Rukia's second pair of eyes, scoping the premises for his master's bloody dessert.
Kai- A pet remains loyal to their master until death, but an undead pet remains loyal throughout the time of the afterlife. Ruki is very affectionate towards Kai, her albino tiger with teal colored eyes. In a way, Kai is Ruki's guardian and "mother," judging people when Ruki rather not deal with them at all. She is also very defensive of her allies and offensive to anyone that dares to harm them or herself. Again, to the naked eye, Kai would appear like any white bengal tiger who rolls around lazily in open fields and fiercely snags delicious looking meat to satisfy her hunger. However, in combat, Kai is a completely different tiger. After all, being an undead altered Kai's physique as well as her attitude. Her true form is the inversed of her disguise form, her fur becoming obsidian with pure white stripes, while her eyes glow an eerie red. Oddly, her stripes begin to wiggle and form strange patterns upon her body, as if alive. This is her ability. If Kai goes beserk, the stripes on her body vibrate and then erupt outwards, the strength behind the blows like being hit with flexible, yet thick poles. Unfortunately, it can be only used 3 times a day and at a close distance, going from full (high chance of being knocked out and forms gashes) to half (possibly knocked out and forms whelps) to a quarter in strength (the wind is knocked out of you, causing difficulty in breathing for a few seconds). Obviously, Kai's sharpened claws and fangs are a weapon in themselves.
Mikhail "Lich" Glühwein Shnork- A soul who refused to relinquish his life, he dabbled in a forbidden magic that sparked eternity to his human body. Alas, the incantation sucked away Mikhail's youth and his memories, save his name. Now his bones snap, crackle, and pop beneath a jet-black, saggy cloak that snags at the bottom and offers him an ominous appeal. His face could frighten even the bravest of men and send them screaming like a little girl, which is why Mikhail clings to his dusty cloak like a madman. Of course, Ruki only assumes he's hideous, having never seen his face -- or the rest of his body, for that matter. Even his hands are concealed behind black gloves, and, when Ruki managed to snatch off his hood, Mikhail's face was wrapped in black bandages, save a pair of seagreen eyes glaring at her. So, Ruki concluded Mikhail is very insecure (about his looks) and doesn't like to be touched, but is mostly calm, pensive, and understanding overall. Oh, but he's very enthusiastic when it comes to battle. In fact, it could be said that Mikhail becomes very confident, if not cocky and obnoxious. Even so, he only uses two spells: Shadow Dust and Terror.
--> Shadow Dust is a spell that seeps into the eyes of the enemy (or enemies, if they are close to the first person targeted) and creates a dark haze over them. If the person moves out of panic, the darkness trails like smoke and irritates the eyes. This may result in rubbing, causing further ittitation and an unimaginable stinging that, if not left alone, may inflict the desire to scratch out your own eyes, the pain becoming that unbearable. Of course, it wears off after a minute and may just result in momentary blindness if eyes are left untouched during the duration of the spell. Temporary blindness after the spell is over may occur, but it's only as harmful as walking out of a pitch-black room into a the bright rays of sunlight.
--> Terror is rather self-explanatory, but it basically brings out your fears and causes you to lose track of reality. Depending on how overwhelming the experience of terror is upon an individual, it could last for one second (instantly broken or acceptance of reality over fears) to five minutes (so taken in by your fears that the spell has to time out in order to free you from your fears). The actual external form of Terror looks like light green, merging souls screaming excessively in your ears until you lose track of the reality in front of you. Internally, Terror creates a realistic portrayal of your fears. For instance, if you are afraid of heights, the person you're in love with and currently dating would lead you up a flight of stairs and, before you know it, you're being shoved off a roof in order to bungie jump with your loved one waving goodbye to you. Becoming consumed by your fears could result in deadly situations, like the rope of the bungie jumper snapping and tumbling into another frightening situation. No one can die in Terror (unless they have a heart atack or they are killed externally while internally within the power of Terror), so it has a long range. However, the more people, the more fallacious and irrational Terror becomes, making it easier to discern that it isn't "reality".
Weapon(s): Apocalyptica is imbued with the essense of Ruki's renewed life, and hidden within it is the form of death. Blackened and distorted with anguish, hatred, tears, and blood, the hideous mixture of hues ward away mortal eyes. After all, a soul that clings to its earthy corpse is far from sin; it is sin itself. Thus, this weapon that wields torment contrary to hope, fear oppose to courage -- only an equal can it touch and a fallen can it rise. It is Ruki's death weapon, and can only be used for murder.
Of course, such a cursed blade would sicken even the sinned themselves. To be blunt, in its true form, Ruki would go mad just by looking at it. Therefore, Ruki found some enchanted cloth to wrap arount it as well as making sure to wear protective gloves while holding it. The jewels found near the outer edges of the blade were once as light in hue as the liquid gems binding Apocalyptica, but over the years, its vile aura began to affect them, darkening them into sapphires. Who knows what will happen once they blacken completely...
Remnants of silky gray locks stretch across the top portion of her hair, a constant reminder of the illness that marked her life as a human: Crohn's Disease. While it clings to the youthful persona of Ruki, it nevertheless constrasts with the ruby hue that fades into the bottom portion of her rather short hair. Cropped and flaired like that of a pixie, it was dyed long ago and constantly redone to conceal as much of the gray as possible. Interestingly, in modern times, gray hair isn't as shocking as the past, making it an acceptable hairstyle even amongst the youth. Thus, Ruki has been told it adds to her spunky charm, where her face would portray her as "too innocent". Ruki can hardly argue: with a small button nose, thin lips like that of a child, large eyes surrounded by long, thick eyelashes, and a heartshaped face round from youth, even her thin, shaped eyebrows can't hinder her undeveloped face.
Not much else can be said about her appearance, except that she's perhaps too thin and hasn't aged past a little child. Her height just reaches 4'6, the only prosperous aspect of her body. She is also extremely underweight, being only 48 pounds. If her shirt is removed, her stomach actually seems to be caved in. This could explain why she refuses to wear dresses or anything revealing, the signs of her illness still evident.
History: The five stages of grief, also known as the five stages of death: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. They mark someone with regrets, and if they don't lead into acceptance, they can swallow that person completely. However, these stages are inconsistant and varies with person to person, unlike the stages of someone's life. Indeed, the stages of a person's life can never waver, but it can be broken down into chunks, as in the case of Ruki. Her five stages of existance (as far as her past is concerned) are as follows:
Stage 1: Beauty
Flurries of snow drifted across the sky and swirled over a house in Wales, bringing the first signs of snow on the very night that Ruki was born. The year was 1940, and Sergeant Sebastian Lox was given leave from the British Army to celebrate Christmas Eve with his 9-month impregnated wife, Joyce Lox. Who would have guessed that the very moment he stepped into the day, his coat fresh with snow, he would find his wife in labor? It was truly a miracle, especially her appearance. Ruki had her father's chocolate coated eyes and his energy, whereas her physique and facial features were that of her mother's. As for her hair, Sebastian had maintained the tradition of marrying a wife with hair of flames and passion -- that is, red hair. He himself had red hair with a dark tint to it, but Joyce's hair was fair, lush, and styled in the curls famous of that time. As for Ruki, her hair was unlike any he had seen. When the mortar man in the same platoon as Sebastian and his best friend, James Sherlock, saw Ruki for the first time, he said her hair reminded him of a mixture between the rose of thanks (pink) and the rose of beauty (red). Later, he admitted that his four year old son, Leo Sherlock, was the one who compared Ruki to the two roses, dismayed that he knew more about his mother's flower business than his father's militaristic life.
Later, more guest arrived to celebrate the day of Christ a few hours away and to offer their best wishes to the Lox family. A lot of people from Sebastian's platoon arrived, including the head lieutenant of it all, Lestan de Launchét. Sadly, the lieutenant was quite busy with his own affairs -- strategizing the next attack and assisting in coordinating men in the global war -- and departed after a few drinks and congratulations. Dawn broke soon after, and with it came the promise for Leo and Ruki to be wed to one another some day, the former having a pile of dark red hair decked upon his head. After all, they seemed to be destined for each other: a beautiful girl and a handsome boy.
Stage 2: Illness
For six years, Ruki and Leo played with each other in the streets of London, seeing as the war made it difficult for Sebastian to travel between the front line and short visits to his family. Joyce often supervised the children, afraid that the streets were still too dangerous and filled with the careless drivers she grew up with as a child. Ruki certainly had become beautiful, her hair stretching to her shoulders and often bearing the flowers Leo gave to her. It pleased Joyce to style her hair into big waves and parting it like the celebrities wore it, causing Ruki to be more adored. With her looks, she could easily gain the friendship of many, and her spirited nature gained respect amongst the boys. She was also far from timid, taking the lead in their little adventures and giving Joyce several heart attacks. Overall, her childhood was a continuous blessing until she turned seven, at which all her blessings turned into nightmares.
The first incident sent Joyce into a hysterical bout of tears. Ruki and the boys had been tossing pebbles across the street as a mock version of skipping rocks against water. Timothy and Leo both tied for the furthest, but neither of them wanted to check to see who truly won. Timothy thought if they did it, one of them (most likely him) would cheat, and Leo was reluctant to check because of Timothy's personality -- that is, being a sore loser and a sore winner. So, Ruki volunteered to run across the street to check for them when suddenly she lurched forward, the sudden pain overcoming the joints in her legs. The car carelessly swaying in front of her zoomed nearby before sharply turning to the right. Blood and screams lingered in the air for a few seconds before darkness swallowed Ruki's consciousness. The next thing she knew, she was in a hospital, one hand clinging to the fresh, white linen of the bed she was on and he other held by her shaking mother. Glancing up, Ruki could see the doctor and her father with a grim expression on his face.
Her father was the first one who spokw up, his words signalling the continuation of a conversation Ruki could only grasp from the time she was conscious. "...How long until I lose her as well?"
The doctor scratched his head, fumbled with his oversized glasses, and lowered his eyes to a notebook in his hands. "She will become disabled from the Crohn's Disease and susceptible to other ailments if she remains in the environment she was in when the incident occured. It would be best if your daughter is removed from harm--"
"Damn it, I know that already! I asked you how long she has to live?!" Sebastian was getting impatient.
"If you take my recommendations, at best, she'll live a healthy life until she turns thirte--"
"Thirteen?!" He snapped, the reddening of his face signalling he was doing everything not to lash out on the slightly jumpy doctor. "Thirteen years...damn it! I already lost many comrades in this foresakened war! Why my daughter as well?!"
Realizing how tense the air got, the doctor wiped his forehead clean of sweat, bowed a bit, and replied, "I apologize. I'll leave the three of you alone. Good evening."
After that, silence followed. Sebastian tried to force a smile, but the long ride to Wales was an awkward one. The house Ruki was born in became a holiday retreat, but now it would become her prison. She would be forbidden to play with her friends, but at the moment, she hardly cared about them. They had returned to their house in London to pack -- an effort that took three days and two nights -- but only Leo would chat and hang out with her. The rest of the boys called her weak, a "damsel in distress" who was as pathetic as any other girl. It really pissed her off, but all she could do was glare. She couldn't ignore the stinging pain in her legs -- and it wasn't just because of the stitches. Her illness made it impossible to run, let alone walk. Eventually, even Leo was taken from her by his father on the day of departure, leaving Ruki utterly miserable.
Stage 3: Death
More years passed and Ruki couldn't tell if her father was being overworked by the fruitless efforts of the war or because he couldn't face her. On one of the rare occassions that he visited, he couldn't conceal the awe on his face. He was appauled by the decay of her hair, fading from the rich and seemingly exotic hue it once had to a crisp and lustless gray. Granted, it was still soft, but it hardly curled like it did before. Thus, Sebastian discovered his daughter not only with graying hair, but straight hair on top of that. He left with a disgusting smile -- at least, that's what Ruki called it. It was like he tried to mask his anger, sorrow, fustration, confusion, and resentment behind a fake smile. And the distance would only increase if she remained a sickly and "aging" child.
"Ruki! You must sleep!"
Those were the words Ruki heard after spending a night with her hair dipped in a bucket of red dye. As for pain, her neck felt more sore than the rest of her body, which was saying a lot, considering pain was a daily problem for her. But she didn't care. Leo was forbidden to visit her, James clearly erased the promise he made with Sebastian, and Sebastian, her father, was dwindling further from her life. Today was her only hope for turning her life around. Ruki had taken all her medicine, eaten despite her poor appitite, and slept as much as possible before-hand. Carelessness was avoided and Ruki didn't even dare go outside. Instead, she remained inside, mixing every kind of red she could find, all for the sake of pleasing her father on her thirteenth birthday. All he had to do was smile -- and smile like he meant it. Then, James would approve of her long enough for her to see Leo, at least once more before she died -- if she died anytime soon.
"I just want to see Leo one more time, just once! Then I can remember how it felt to run freely, climbing everything in sight and proving I'm not 'just another girl'! I just...I don't want to...forget..."
Her mother understood. Joyce wrapped her arms around her daughter as if it was her last embrace, as she always did, and kissed Ruki on the head. "Listen, Ruki. No matter what, you'll always be precious to me. Always..."
Always. But always was broken by the sound of a whistle, a whizzing noise that grew louder and louder, until it became unbearable. Ruki raced to the door to check, but she was pulled backwards. Tilting her head upwards, Ruki watched as her mother's eyes widened, her lips pressed together so no sound would escape them, her face whitened and made glossy from excessive tears that wouldn't stop. She couldn't stop shaking, her body vibrating with fear. But she wasn't afraid of dying. With all her might, she wished to protect her precious daughter, but she feared she couldn't. She wanted to, and would give everything to keep Ruki save, but...it happened. A rush of heat, followed by a miasma of fire. It bit and chewed and ripped through everything in it's path, teasing the mother and child trapped within it. Suffocation to stop the breathing. Smoke to cloud the vision. After that, unbearable burns to eradicate life.
"Still alive? Tenacious brat. But your mother's gone. Aren't you satisfied?"
"Oh, so you can still talk? Then you can listen as well. Do you think it was an accident? Your illness, that is. Random? Certainly not. That woman who sacrificed her life for your feeble life, she probably did it out of guilt--"
"Am I? Are you familiar with recessive genes? Dominate genes allow for traits to appear right away, but recessive genes rely on the allele. Your mother thought that because it skipped a generation or two, you'd be safe. And look at what happened."
"So...y-you came...to k-kil-l......me. W-why? Be...b-because of...Leo--"
"I'm just following orders."
Stage 4: Rebirth
What came next could be best described as a buzzing sensation followed by a staggering shot to the neck that left Ruki completely numb. The job had been done. No more tragedies would be strung by Joyce, and the misfortune she created through the birth of Ruki was no longer in existance. All that was left was the cleanup job -- that is, removing the bodies so that all the police would find would be rubble. That mission, however, was interrupted by Lieutenant Launchét. It's unclear of what happened next, but upon switching places with James, life was seeped back into Ruki. She wasn't dead! It was the miracle of life, a resurrection that seemed all too impossible, and yet...perhaps it was too good to be true? The illness that plagued her body, the wounds that should have zapped all her energy, all the pain she felt...
"I don't understand how you did it, or why, but don't expect any thanks! Somehow, you gave me life, but...the pain won't go away. I hate them! My father! Leo's father! Those children that rejected me! I didn't do anything, and yet...my existance had no meaning! I won't...I can't...leave without someone bearing this hate with me, and the one I hate the most, the one who deserves to suffer as well...my father...! So don't you dare stop me!"
Wobbling a bit, Ruki stood up and searched amongst the rubble for something sharp. When she found what she needed, she hacked at her hair so that it fell unevenly to her shoulders. After that, she took her chopped off hair and held it down with a few pieces of wood and brick near her mother. Then she glared at the lieutenant, a warning for him to not mess with anything before running away. Her hunt was aimless, but somehow, she found her father. He acted miserable, perplexed, and eager at the same time, as if debating over his sins. James was by his side as well, and with all of her fury boiling into thirst, the both of them were assaulted without mercy. Before that, Ruki explained herself and all that she felt, but it fell on deaf ears. She was no more than a nuisance, a pest that wouldn't die and couldn't live in their world. So she killed them, and they never rose. They hardly even struggled! Did that mean they gave up on life, or were they afraid of facing the afterlife? Perhaps even more, they accepted death, and that made Ruki hate them even more.
Stage 5: Necromancy
A few more years passed and Ruki started to understand her position as a vampire. But there was still a thread she wouldn't loosen from her previous life as a human, and that thread lead to Leo. After Ruki was done with her father and his father, there was no sign that they had been bitten.
To witnesses, it was a terrible slaughtering of two familiar families with one child missing and the other unharmed. Some rumors spread that the missing child, Ruki, had went mad and killed others. More logical rumors discussed her illness and said the bombing was planned, having known that James was a mortar man and even found portable mortar some miles away. Occultists exclaimed that Ruki had risen from the dead to seek revenge for her murdered mother and that was why her hair was found at the scene of the first crime (which was very close to what happened).
At any rate, the mixed feelings over the deaths made it hard to set up a burial service, and in the end, only one person came: Leo. It was on the day of the burial -- or rather, when the sky was approaching dusk -- that Ruki stumbled upon Leo once more. A butterfly -- Lux -- had led her there, her first summoning ever. At first, she planned to bite him and have him join her, but he was a handsome man who made a decent living with a loving wife. Actually, his wife joined him, her belly round from pregnancy. Yes, many years had passed and he was no longer the child she once knew. It was too late, and so she let it go, Lux fluttering beside her.
Her last two summonings are quite strange. Ruki met Kai when she was low on money and decided to head to remote regions around the world. During her expedition, Ruki encountered a white bengal tiger protecting her young. Some pouchers thought they would make good hunting practices, the father elsewhere at the moment. Instead of fleeing, the mother kept still, blocking her kin from harm. She was shot several times before her hunters felt Ruki's deadly bite.
Now, the tiger would have been another unfortunate prey to illegal hunters, but something -- or rather, someone clung to the lingering spirit to give the tiger renewed life -- as an undead. To this day, Ruki is unsure how Kai was able to be summoned into her form, but she believes a part of her mother somehow attached to the tiger.
Even stranger was her last summoning: Lich. The year was 2000 when Ruki met Lich. A tale spread that at the change of the millenium, a vengeful spirit would rise from the dead and create his army of lesser undead minions. Thus, he alias became Lich, but he certainly wasn't as frightening as everyone made him out to be -- that is, until Ruki arrived. Actually, Ruki frightened him into following her by chasing down the occultists and making mince meat out of them. Unfortunately, with his lack of memory and his qualms about his appearance, Ruki doesn't know much about his background.
Last edited by lokuri; 06-14-2011 at 07:30 PM.
Nurarihyon no Mago!
-- farag0n; Tales of AmnInpa: "...I got your mask already, look! Isn't it pretty?”
Balthazar: ”Urgh.. !! It's pink..”
Inpa: ”Oh please, it's called being metrosexual!..."
(The turtle is here. Think I might fix up some things that I notice are wrong tommorow, or today, darn paper but now we can start anyhow Man that picture was larger than I thoughtO.o)
Name: Gideon Scurra
Shifting: This ability allows Gideon to change and increase the shape or mass of any object he wishes to, meaning he can increase and decrease any material persistent in the object he can manipulate to a certain extent, unfortunately diamond, rubies, gold, silver and any other worthwhile metals or gemstones he cannot manipulate. There's one requirements for him to use his powers though. To be able to change anything he must have had physical contact with the object for twenty four hours during his life. He doesn’t have to hold it for twenty four hours straight, one hour each day for twenty four days also works.
Jesting: Gideon can use this ability to make people believe whatever he tells them, something which he often have used for his own amusement. This being said not everybody believes what he tells them, first of all the lie cannot be too unthinkable, he cannot fully convince loving parents that their son is planning to murder them. Also the powers effect greatly depends on the individuals mind, their beliefs and psychological state, making them accept or resist certain lies to a greater or lesser extent. That being said however strong they are and even if there’s the slightest possibility they will at least believe part of the lie, or a seed of belief will be planted within them which might grow.
Weapon(s): A metal cane outlined with wood making with an iron bulb on top.
Credits goes to Circus-Usagi
Gideon was born in poor conditions the year 1587, his mother was always out working while he and his siblings stole anything they get their hands out, the earnings from both of these his father quickly drank or gambled up only so he could return and beat up both his wife and children and for some reason focusing most of it on Gideon. Fed up with this way of life but not knowing how to get out of it the answer showed up unexpectedly to him one day as he was walking through town looking for anything worthwhile to steal. The circus had come to town, Gideon was captivated by their display, delighted with every new trick they showed. As the show ended he saw his chance for a new life and begged them to let him come with them, reluctant at first his pleads eventually convinced them, on one condition. They would learn him parts of their trade and if he had not learned to become useful with it in one month they leave him at the next town they travelled to. Agreeing to this they left the town and took Gideon with them. It soon showed Gideon had a talent when it came to tricks and sleighs of hand and he was soon a young though valued member of the group. Eventually though the circus members had lost their glow and determination, not having the fire that he had seen so many years ago. After what would be their last performance together they left for the roads again where, after they set up camp something attacked them without warning. Expecting to die he didn’t, instead the monster turned him into one of their own, a vampire.
So began his journey, alone in the world with his former companions dead bodies around him and his body forever altered he traveled through the world, sometimes joining a circus hoping he be able to feel the same warmth and joy he had. That was all gone now. His comrade’s bodies preventing that. Still, being immortal he figured he do the best out of it, not having to care for old age catching up to him, now he could travel the world and do basically whatever he wished. Still he has never forgotten the vampire who turned him, sometimes searching for him, sometimes not but never forgetting. Having nothing more than a name to go on it has proven fruitless, a name he sometimes wishes he never heard, Dux.
Last edited by Befram; 09-14-2011 at 09:35 PM.
it will soon start thats my favourite part
(( Time to get this show on the road! Like it was mentioned in the intro: come up with an invitation or such for a meeting in the HQ. You don't have to get in the HQ in the first post but don't drag it too much though. By the way, there's still one more person joining but she'll join later.
Oh yeah, and as a final note.. Don't you dare all post during this one day! >. I don't wanna get greeted by 10 new posts the next time I log in.
Now then.. Let's get started! ))
Curse of a Vampire
The moon is up, the stars litter the sky, the clock bangs 2 AM. Michael is driving down the long road between New York and L.A. He had a business trip to L.A and is now returning to New York where his office is. His phone beeps suddenly, a text message just arrived from an unknown number. Michael checked the message, it was an invitation to a meeting held in New York.. in the Adelaide's HQ. Only the letter ”D” decorated the bottom of the message, it was a message from Dorian no doubt. Michael sneered silently. What's he up to now?
There was no other traffic, people generally disliked driving in the night. It was a warm night but it was dark, so dark that it was hard to see further than a few meters. The street lights were scarce, saving up electricity was a global movement these days. Oil was running out and scientists were busy trying to create a substitute, so far there had been no success. Some light was visible in the far distance, it was most likely a gas station. Michael checked the gas meter and noticed it was awfully low. This gas stop would be his first one during this trip.
Michael drove next to the station and got up from his car. The station was old, you had to use a credit card in order to pay for the gas. Most places used fingerprint analyzers to determine identity, bank accounts and such these days. Cash was no longer seen in paper form, it was all digital now. In fact, if you tried to pay with paper cash these days, your money would be refused. Michael kept his credit card with him exactly for these kinds of occasions. He pushed the card inside the reader and selected 80 dollars to be spent for gas. The gas price was up the roof by now, you had to pay twice the amount for every litre of gas.
The gas station owner opened the door of the gas station store, it seemed he was still up. The man was in his fifties with a thick stubble and saggy skin, clearly from smoking. He was holding an unlit cigarete in his hand. He walked next to Michael before placing the cigarete into his mouth.
”Got a light, traveler?” The owner asked.
”You have a customer at 2 AM, and you ask if they got light?” Michael responded with slight confusion in his voice.
”Ye, see I'm what ya call an opportunist. So ya got light or what?”
”Sure. Just hold on a minute, I need to smoke one too.”
”Ain't nothin' better than a cancer stick on a lonely night, eh? Well well, why drivin' around so late if ya don't mind me askin'?”
”Business.” Michael answered and lit his and the old man's cigarete.
”Bus'ness, eh? That what they all say.”
The gas pump beeped, the 80 dollars had been spent. Michael pulled the pump out and opened the door of his car. He grabbed a pair of black leather gloves and put them on.
”Say, what blood type are you?”
”Eh? Now what kinda question is that?”
”Just trying to keep the chit-chat going.”
”You coulda just asked my name. Well I think my blood type is B.”
"Not at all."
Michael grabbed the old man's head, pulled it down and shot his knee into the old man's stomach. Then he sinked his teeth into the old man's neck and took his fill for tonight. After he was done, he dragged the old man's body back into the store. He placed the owner behind the counter and smacked the man's head with the rear end of the shotgun that was underneath the counter. This way the owner might think that he had just hit his head and fallen unconscious. Michael clapped his hands a few times, as if he was driving the dust out, and walked back into his car.
Michael started the engine and put the radio back on. He always enjoyed listening to the radio while on trips. He took off the leather gloves and placed them on the passenger's seat. Drinking blood was never fun for him, he took no pleasure doing it. However it was the only thing that kept him alive, and the Beast inside chained.
It was still a long way home, especially since he had to attend some bothersome meeting. Yet, if he didn't show up, Dorian would make his unlife a living hell.. even more so than it already was. A popular twenties song suddenly bursted out of the radio, the artist was NewsCope. It was a peculiar name but the band had talent back in the day. Listening to the song, Michael drove off into the distance towards New York.
When Michael arrived to New York, it was already 3 : 30 AM. He drove into the underground parking lot dedicated to the ”clientele” in the HQ. He sent a message to his assistant, Juli, that he was attending a meeting in the HQ before stepping out of the car. That way she wouldn't wonder where the boss had disappeared to. Once the message was sent he got out of the car and walked the stairs up into the 1st floor of the HQ. Nothing had changed inside, it was just as brand as it had been for the last 40 years. A chandelier was hanging in the middle of the lobby with a blood red carpet reaching from the front door to the elevators. The walls were made of granite and gave of a modern look. The security guard's desk was right in front of the elevators, you always had to made yourself known to him before you were allowed to use the elevators.
”There's a meeting here I'm supposed to attend.”
”Mm.. Yes, yes. How's wife and kids, Mikey?” The guard asked with a provocative tone.
”Screw you.” Michael responded and walked away.
The security guard was one mean man. He was the kind of guy who no one wanted to be in contact with. He had all the information about the vampires ”registered” in the HQ databases, in other words he knew almost everything about the vampires around the world. This was a necessity since otherwise a Crix could get inside and create havoc. They are mindless beasts but some of them can be cunning.
Michael stepped inside the elevator and pressed the 50th floor button. The elevator zoomed through the floors and eventually arrived to its destination. The 50th floor looked just like the lobby, with the exception that it only had a few more rooms.
Michael stepped inside the meeting room and met with a castle-like feeling. A huge gothic-style window let the moonlight in, almost illuminating the whole room. There were a few candles on the walls to bring more light. Generally vampires like darkness more than light, which is quite obvious. A huge chandelier hanged above the table where the council members sat on their meetings. Dorian was sitting on his place, quietly reading a report of some kind. He raised his head slightly as Michael coughed.
”Take a seat, Mr. Colt. Only me and Shade are here.” Dorian said with his usual cold tone.
”Shade? Can't see that thing anywhere.”
”That is because you are not looking hard enough.”
”.. It's not like I really even want to se-”
Emerging from Michael's own shadow, a rather disturbing Nosferatu made itself known.
”BOO! Scared ya, boss! Oi! Who ya callin' a thingy, boss?”
That wretched stench appeared around Michael as soon as Shade made himself apparent. The smell of a rotting corpse was never a pleasant one. Thank goodness it was dark, Shade was not a pretty sight to see. Sadly his.. odor was still there. At first it made Michael sick but he soon adjusted. Shade walked over to his seat and slammed his legs on the table. Michael pulled the chair next to him and sat down. He looked at Dorian who was still busy reading some report.
”So why did you call me Dorian?”
”Patience. There's still a dozen more coming.”
”Didnae hear 'im? We wait aroond till dem otha playas arrive.” Shade said while pulling out what looked like a rotten piece of brain tissue from his nose.
"Lookie dat! 'S a piece o' my brain! 'Ey, boss! Ya wanna piece o' me?! Eh heh heh!!"
”Hihi! Ya tee'd off, boss?”
”No, just tired.”
”Dead tired eh, boss? .. Eh heh heh!!”
Shade laughed at his own joke, at least that's what you'd think.
(( I'll post again once everyone has arrived.
EDIT! By the way, Shade calls everyone as "boss" no matter who you are. ))
Last edited by farag0n; 06-02-2011 at 03:57 PM.
Calm down people, it's just me.
Curse of a Vampire
- The Paper Mask –
Under the cloak of your demise
Held deep within that chalice of pain
Locked tight behind that chest of death
That paper mask it cries.
“De survie pour tout voir. To be or not to be, aye there’s the point.” A spotlight focuses on a single figure, illuminating a pool of dust encompassing him. His appearance is that of a young male, with darkened hair and almost statuesque complexion. His beauty transcends beyond that of any human could comprehend and his gestures, far beyond elegant of this time.
His arctic fingers slowly clutch at the vintage microphone in front of him. His fingers were pale, much like his complexion, and revealed finger nails that looked almost like glass, yet more sturdy and slender. The man pressed his lips upon the microphone, and sang.
His voice flooded the entire concert, embarking chills into his millions of fans who instantly cheer in his presence. The stage is now filled completely by light, revealing the rest of the band. Two minutes pass into the song before a crescendo of applause is beamed, chanting for the famous guitar solo played by the singer. Death Valley, one of the most internationally famed rock bands of today’s generation, with Lestan de Launchét leading with vocals.
A full hour and a half passed before the concert finally ended and the play off band get ready to kick off for the already more than riled audience. Lestan stubs a cigarette from his favourite brand as he embarked the tour bus, ready to return home with the rest of his crew. A word didn’t pass between him and his colleagues as he entered his private room aboard the bus. If only the world known what the rest of Death Valley had known about Lestan.
Lestan walked to the glassed cabinet at the end of his room which revealed an assortment of liquors and precious fluids to sustain his life force on earth. Taking a short glass, Lestan filled it with ice, his favourite brand of whiskey, Jack Daniels, and a splash of unsullied blood. Cradling the liquid substance, Lestan lay on his bed and began to enjoy his freshly poured drink. An abrupt knock came to his door, interrupting Lestan’s pleasure.
“Who is it?” Lestan asked unamused. “I-Its Lana. I’m here to see you babe.” Taking a large guzzle of his drink, Lestan approached the door, opening it to reveal the alluring figure of a timid young woman, around the same age as him…in human years.
“Come in, sit down. What’s troubling you babe?” He motions to the leather sofa as he leads Lana into the room. “N-nothing Les. It’s just cold tonight.” Lestan gazed into Lana’s eyes as she briefly glanced away and tugged away at her lower lip with her teeth. “I frighten you don’t I.”
“T-That’s not tru-” Lestan smiled, revealing his perfectly shaped teeth, and two menacing fangs. “Y’know darling, there is something you need to know about vampires. When we’re hungry…we can feel your blood. Just like now, I can see that pure life force pulsing through your veins, quickening your heart beat as I move closer to you. You fear me, and you have good reason to. I’m a demon of the night. The scourge of humanity. The eater of blood. The devourer of your soul.”
With one gesture, Lestan instantly glamoured Lana, leaving her in an almost emotionless state. “Do you fear you now…my love?” She didn’t reply. Laying her flat on the sofa, Lestan drew himself towards the helpless girl’s legs, and opening them slightly. Savouring the scent of his victim, Lestan drew close to her thigh, and cut open a small wound with his specialised thimble. “The best source of blood runs through the leg. That is one thing that gothic lore had gotten wrong about us…creatures of the night.”
Lestan then began to drink from the wound he created until his hunger was satiated. However, he did not want to drain the poor girl of blood, he did not want to kill her. As much as his animal instincts wanted him to devour his victim, he did not. He wanted her alive.
Sighing, Lestan stood up and carried the Lana’s seemingly lifeless corpse into his bed. “Don’t worry my sweet darling; you will have no recollection of this event. They never do.” He brushed her hair and passed his hand over the wound he created on the thigh, and magically it disappeared. Another knock came to Lestan’s door. Annoyed, he replied:
“Now is not the time!” the voice on the other side of the door responded with a unique eloquence of which Lestan was not familiar with. “Forgive me, Lestan. I will leave the package at the door.” Puzzled, Lestan quickly moved to open the door to catch the person to which the voice belonged to, but it was too late. The only thing he could see was the strange package, as promised, left at the foot of his door.
Picking it up, Lestan read the note which was attached to the parcel. ‘Brought to the attention of Lestan de Launchét, from the honest folk where crimson blood flows’. “…Must be a joke.”
Kicking the door closed behind him, Lestan immediately opened the package, revealing a marble box sealed by a simple red ribbon. Untying the bow, he removed the top of his box, revealing a mysterious figment from Lestan’s troubled past.
It was the paper mask.
Lestan grinded his teeth together as distant memories began to flood into his mind, things he wished he’d have not seen, things nobody should have to see. Further investigation of the marble box presented a small letter which had been stamped with a particularly familiar seal. Unwinding it, Lestan began to open the contents of the letter, and read it.
“Of course…an invitation.”
The letter ended with a particularly distinctive ‘D’, the signature no less.
“Dorian Harbinger. You bastard.” Lestan crumpled the letter into a ball in his fist, throwing it angrily across the room.
“What the **** does he know?...”
Curse of a Vampire
Calm Before the Storm
Deus stepped out of the cramped room and walked down the hallway. He slept for the past few hours, the longest he slept in the past few months. He re-fixed his glasses back onto his face and continued to walk down the hallway till he came to two metal doors. Above the door was a panel that read Section 15. Deus was at one of the many facilities located around the world. This one was located underground, underneath the city of Newark, New Jersey. Deus walked into the lab and walked past a few long tables till he got to his desk. On it was a large computer system, with all kinds of screens, keyboards, and other devices. He sat in the rolling chair and stared at the many computer screens.
"Alfred, bring up reports 2-5, and yesterday's fielding report". Deus waited for a response but none came. You gotta be kidding me
Deus sighed, got up from his chair and walked over to a skull sitting on a nearby desk.
"Alllfffreeeddd." He knocked on the skull. "Wake up. We got work to do"
Out came a ghostly type figure that appeared in human form. If you didnt see him appear from the skull, who would think he was real. He wore a old suit jacket with brown dress paints and a pair of worn out shoes. He was also bald with a few whiskers on his chin.
"You know, you could let me rest for once."
Deus gave a small laugh. "Can artificial ghosts even sleep?" Deus walked back to his chair and sat down again, picking up a tablet and reading through the figures.
"Hibernate is more of the word. And as you know, I was human once before. One of the best, most knowledgeable scientist that ever..." Deus gave a small wave. "Yea yea yea. I heard this about a million times. I know."
Alfred was once considered one of America's top leading scientist, in many fields, ranging from nuclear science to quantum physics. At one point he dabbed his nose into some... unexpected circumstances and was killed. Or so they thought. Instead, whoever did this to Alfred made him into an artificial life form, both a ghost type figure (aka go through walls, disappear, etc) and na artificial intelligence (aka, able to control computers, etc etc.) Deus came into possession of Alfred during an excavation scan in Indonesia. He found him in an abandoned research facility. Deus took him back and kept it secret from everyone except his teammates. Alfred can't leave far from the skull, and doesn't know how to escape his forever imprisonment. Deus promised to help him if he could, in exchange for his help revolving around Noetic science.
Alred waived his hand and a bunch of the screens came to life with different figures running. "Anything new with Patient 011010?"Blue asked. Alfred opened up some holographic modules in front of him, switching through the pages.
He shook his head. "Nothing new at all. He seems immune to the coagulation. Should I initiate Lacrima 3?" Deus put his hand to his forehead and replied wit ha solemn "No". He had a lead meeting to attend to in 1 week. Him and his team were nowhere near close to what they promised to present. "How about Jana and Clyde? Any news on their front?"
Alfred flipped through some more pages and shook his head again. "They havent reported in two days. I'll get Kevin to try to get in touch with them when he comes in tomorrow." Deus laid back in his chair. He would need to start over again. The board won't be happy with this. He raised his hand in the air. A water bottle started to float and flew over into his hand. He took a deep sip and laid it down next to him. "Oh by the way, Dorian sent you a message." Alfred snapped his fingers and a holographic message appeared a few feet infront of Deus. Deus sighed. "What the hell does he want?" Deus has had some confrontations with Dorian in the past. It was never good to be on the council's bad side, but Dorian was the only one Deus truely hated.
Deus read the message. An important meeting with the council members? Located at Adelaide's HQ?This interested Deus. Dorian has kept distance from Deus for some time now. "Alright we are going." Alred shook his head understandingly, or so he though. He stopped himself short. "Wait...what? You are going?" Deus smiled. Alred knew this smile well. Deus had something up his sleeve.
"Make sure potions 1-6 are ready to be moved. Place them in the container and have them ready in 5." Alred shrugged and started to type on a holographic keyboard.
"Also make sure you are prepped and ready to go. You are coming also."
Curse of a Vampire
The Beast Within
The night was pitch dark, and dull. A faint fog filled the air and gave Seth a distinctive musky taste each time he inhaled. Well, it was either that, or the metal thermos of blood that gave him the musky taste. ...No, it was definitely the blood. The closest thing to the taste of bagged blood Seth could think of was vomit. Dull vomit at that. He winced as the took another draught from the thermos. Cold bagged blood wasn't exactly fine dining, but at least it took the edge off his hunger. And it was a far better alternative than drinking from a live human. Why, the last time that happened... Seth closed his eyes and forced himself not to think about it, he had work to do, and by his watch, he had only little while to get into position.
"Work" consisted of hunting down and killing Barry Clarson. A runaway Crix who had gotten himself in quite a lot of trouble in his first few weeks of newfound "freedom" of his beast. Sitting in his car, Seth reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out several clips of ammunition. Would it be silver bullets or incendiaries this time? Incendiaries. Seth read the file of Barry. That monster had killed children on his latest rampage. His last few moments should be full of suffering, Seth would see to that.
A brisk walk from his car took Seth to the designated alley, he crouched behind a dumpster on the east side, readied his pistol, and waited. The minutes ticked by and by... This was Barry's way home every night, and he should be here any minute now; and Sanders, Seth's Nosferatu partner in this particular hunt, should be right behind him. Fifteen minutes later on the west side of the alley, along came Barry, tucked into his coat to ward off the biting cold and lost in his thoughts. Lost enough, in fact, not to realize that Sanders had stepped out of a nearby shadow wielding what seemed to Seth to be an ancient parking meeter. With a heavy backhanded swing and an overly loud "HEY-O!" Sanders smashed Barry into the brick wall.
In an instant, Barry's true side came out full force. He snarled like a rabid animal, his fangs growing larger and this claws ready to rip Sanders to shreds. He leapt towards the Nosferatu with incredible speed. A speed that could nearly rival that of a bullet.
Three tiny streaks of fire found their way into Barry's back, sinking into his flesh. Barry stopped his assault, and let loose a cry of anguish that wracked the skies. Taking advantage of this respite, Sanders slammed his parking meeter mace into Barry with a massive uppercut, sending Barry careening towards Seth, sliding to a stop a few feet away.
Slipping the sharpened hook out from the back of his belt, Seth walked over to the crippled Crix. Another gunshot rang out as he placed another bullet into Barry's kneecap. Leaving the deranged vampire's struggle to regain his footing dead in the water. Collapsing to the ground, wheezing and coughing blood, Barry raised his head to meet Seth's gaze with crazed eyes.
"Hahahaha... I can smell you... I can smell the beast. It won't be long now little one. You'll be just like me... Just like meee..."
Seth met Barry's madness with a cold stare. He brought the angular hook to meet the skin of Barry's neck. The thick, cool metal blade grating against the pale flesh.
"There are many things different between you and me, Barry."
He pulled the hook through.
"For starters, I still have my head attached to the rest of my body."
Seth forced himself not to think of Barry's last words. The truth was he always felt close to the tipping point, too close. Leaving Sanders to clean up the mess, Seth wondered to himself why he didn't just shoot Barry in the heart and just skip the whole conversation before it even started. By the time he had reached his car again, Seth decided that bygones should stay bygones, and the rest of this night was best spent doing something more productive. Like more target practice.
It was then that Seth saw it, the postcard left on his car, tucked under his windshield wiper. The photo was of a familiar building in New York, and the inscription read "Wish you were here..." along with an address and a decorative "D." Seth paused for a moment. Had he worked for a man who went by "D" before? No, not that he could think of. Whoever he was, he sure knew how to get Seth's attention. One thing was for certain though.
A short car ride could answer a lot of questions. ...Either that or just create more.
Curse of a Vampire
Madness of the Living
-700 years ago-
Clouds darken the sky, wind brushes over the ground, a gate flings open with fury. A young man walks through the gate, bearing a mask of hatred upon him. His steps are firm, his posture clear and his eyes like two burned holes. Before the young man stands a massive castle made of stone, a place which he once called home. The young man was incapable of nostalgic feelings now, there was only a single emotion inside him: Wrath. Two guardians stood in front of the large wooden door which stood as a lock for the stone treasure chest.
They see the young man and their reaction is full of confusion, the other whispers how this boy can still be alive. The other on the other hand grabs his spear firmly and points it at the young man, a man who the guard once played with when the boy was still a child.
1st Guard: ”Stay back, mi lord. I wish no harm on you. Turn around and never come back, please.”
2nd Guard: ”How can he.. ?”
Theodore: ”Judgement clouded, viewpoint fixed.. A shameful display of puppetry.”
1st Guard: ”What on earth are you talking about.. ?!”
Theodore: ”I – must – kill – my – partner” (Control, 1st guard)
2nd Guard: ”Wha-.. Urgh!!”
Theodore: ”I – have – no – reason – to – live” (Control, 1st guard)
1st Guard: ”I-I have no reason to live.. !!”
The first guard suddenly plunged his spear through the chest of the 2nd guard. The guard was able to gargle some blood from his mouth before he fell on the steps as lifeless as stone. Following soon after, the first guard stabbed himself with the spear which had just taken the life of his partner. The first guard also fell on the stairs with his own spear stuck in his chest, dead as one could be.
Theodore walked the steps with a nonchalant look on his face and opened the door to his former home. The castle was cold, wind escaped through an open window in the large hall known as a lobby. A large red carpet decorated the floor while several royal paintings hanged over the walls. A large chalice was also present and hanging from the roof in the middle of the room. Jacques, Theodore's father, loved chalices, thus there were an abundance of them inside the castle.
Theodore: ”Sweet parent of this mind. I shall rip thine heart and feast on thine crimson river that flows inside thine vessel. Where art thou's presence I wonder?”
The sound of notes echoed within the walls of the De la Xeshkat castle. Undoubtedly Jacques was playing his piano in his quarters, on the 2nd floor. Theodore's mind was set, he proceeded towards his father's room. Nothing had changed inside the castle, except the presence of a son. His vampiric powers were still new to him but somehow his minds knew how to use them. Perhaps that was the power of a Likava?
A set of double doors flew open as Theodore marched inside. The father turned his head, only to find terror creeping up into his mind. His son, the one who was supposed to have been burned alive, was standing right in front of his eyes, unscathed. Jacques rose and drew his rapier without hesitation. He knew Theodore was after his blood.
Jacques: ”Still alive. What a pest you are, my son. It would appear that I have to deal the killing blow on you myself. Prepare thyself!”
Theodore: ”I have not come for thee yet, man bearing the face of Janus. Where is Mother's presence? This Wrath urges to converse with her mind.”
Jacques: ”What.. ?!”
Theodore: ”This Wrath's time is limited. Hurry, face of Janus”
Jacques: ”You've gone insane!! I will put you into your final rest. Death awaits you!”
Theodore: ”This vessel has already flown to Hell, face of Janus. This mind shall find Mother by itself.. !!” (Possession, Fear)
Jacques: ”Agh.. My h-head.. !! W-wha.. What is h-happening?! AH! L-leave me alone monster!! I-I-I.. AAAAH!!!”
Jacques hid under his desk while holding both his arms around his legs. He was shivering, fearing of getting attacked at any moment. There was no way to communicate with him anymore, his mind was gone, consumed by fear. Theodore left the pitiful excuse of a human being alone, for now. It seemed his father was not his target, but instead it was his mother.. ? Isabelle, Theodore's mother, was most likely in her own room on one of the three towers which drew a triangle on the sky.
The clouds started weeping, crying, their tears washing away everything on the ground. Theodore glanced outside one of the windows and saw how the fires in the city were put out one after another. The fires served as guidance for late night travelers, sadly the rain extinguished the fires so travelers had to make do themselves.
The prodigal son approached the long stairwell which rose all the way to the highest point of the rightmost tower. There were several paintings scattered all over the walls of the tower, it was to bring some ”life” to that otherwise empty stairwell. Finally Theodore reached the top and knocked on the door. Isabelle opened the door, only to hold her hand over her mouth and gasp. Fear was evident in her eyes. She backed down and stumbled on the floor, looking Theodore as if he was the devil himself. This was not the reaction of a mother who had been worried about her son, on the contrary.
So this was the truth, Isabelle's reaction proved it all.. she was the one who killed Theodore. He had been the best possible son, a prodigy, and this was his reward? The wrath subsided from Theodore for a moment, instead a new emotion took over: Confusion.
Theodore: ”This Confused one pleads for a thank-you note, Mother. Why did thee take the life which this vessel received from thee.. ?”
Isabelle: ”You.. I can hardly understand you anymore. But.. You were too perfect, Theo. There were rumors that you had an ungodly guidance in you.. Something unnatural that shouldn't exist. Your father acted out of jealousy while I acted out of fear.. and I would do it again. You are not my son anymore. Somehow the Devil swallowed your soul and turned you into one of his minions! The fact that you are standing here proves everything!”
Theodore: ”This mind's own Mother deceived it, killed it, because of words that escaped some uppity hags' lips? This mind no longer needs Confusion. Thou shalt feel the Wrath thee evoked by ending this vessel's function!”
Isabelle: ”.. Ah!”
Isabelle attacked Theodore with her rapier, piercing Theodore's now deceased lung. Seeing as Theodore didn't even flinch from the attack, Isabelle backed down again and dropped on her knees. A tear emerged from her eye and flowed down her pure cheek. Theodore took out his own rapier and hovered it above Isabelle's chest, where the heart lay. Just like Isabelle had crushed Theodore's heart, so would he hers. A thunder struck into the ground and a rapier pierced through a woman's heart.
The first sin had been made.. Matricide.
Before Isabelle fell on the ground, Theodore grabbed her from her neck, beared his fangs and drank her empty. Theodore's wrath had brought upon another dead soul. Thunder struck into the ground again, now the final piece of the puzzle was remaining..
Rushing down the stairs, Theodore saw himself as a vengeful demon descending upon its target. He had spared Jacques only to relay for him the news of his wife's death. Cruelty, a monstrosity circled inside Theodore, he was no longer himself. Had he ever been? What if this was the real Theodore? A vengeful spirit with nothing but the torment of others in his mind?
The question remained unanswered as Theodore pushed the final door to his father's to-be resting place open. Jacques was still shivering under the table, he hadn't moved an inch. Theodore hovered above him like a hungry shadow of the Abyss, he was anxious to tell how he had slain his own mother. Jacques raised his eyes from the floor only to whimper in fear as he saw Theodore's face above his.
Theodore: ”The vessel that once carried this being has ceased its function. Metal slashed through the vessel's heart causing a ruby river flow onto the fabric that holds the world true. Thine hanging has come to an end, Janus. Embrace darkness, submit to it and be eternally tortured in the fires of Hell!!”
Jacques: ”You.. k-killed Isabelle?! M-monster! Y-you are g-going too f-far.. !!”
Theodore: ”Monster? This is what thee created, Janus. Do thee not love me.. ?”
Jacques: ”B-b-burn in Hell, m-monster..”
Theodore: ”Meet thine wretched love in eternity, Janus!”
Theodore pushed two of his fingers deep into Jacques's eye sockets, crushing his eyes into little white pulps. He then formed a hook from his fingers and grabbed Jacques's jaw with his other hand. A blood filled concert filled the room as Jacques's jaw came off. As a finale, Theodore dragged the still barely breathing Jacques over to the window and threw him through it. Only a loud thump echoed from the ground as Jacques landed. Theodore watched the scene he had made for a while before vanishing from the face of the earth.
The second sin had been made.. Patricide.
Theodore: "This Wrath is satisfied."
There was a slight knock on the door. Theodore turned around and faced his sparkling hotel suite. There was a big window behind Theodore which gave off an amazing view of the city. On his left was a king-sized bed in an alcove and on his right a plasma TV, not that he ever even opened the TV. Further in the room, near the front door, was a small bar with a counter and a few rotatable stools. Theodore walked over the expensive carpet to the front door and opened it. Behind it was standing a man in a tuxedo and big top hat. The man had a monocle and bushy white moustache.
Theodore: ”What is thine calling, peasant in a noble disguise?”
Man: ”There is a package for you, sir. Here it is, have a wonderful evening.”
Theodore: ”A thank you for your king.”
Man: ”Uh.. Yes, sir.”
The man in a top hat left soon after. Theodore opened the package and was slightly shocked what was inside. A small tuck of hair was enveloped inside the package, along with a letter. The hair belonged to Theodore's long deceased mother, Isabelle. How on earth had someone gotten their hands on Isabelle's hair? Theodore opened the letter and saw it was an invitation. The bottom of the letter was decorated with a 'D', a distinctive signature of some sort. Theodore folded the letter and put it back in the package. He turned around and faced the window he had been watching through earlier.
Theodore: ”Devil's Eyes calls this vessel to join a charade filled with those of lesser blood? Invitation.. refused.”
(( OOC: Feels like every single line Theodore makes is a speech of some sort..
Oh, by the way, Theodore refers to Dorian as "Devil's Eyes" since I remember that he had a pair of odd eyes, right? Don't worry Fluffy, he will join but he needs a little more persuasion ^^. ))
Last edited by Takesh; 06-03-2011 at 09:53 AM.
The night was clear and the stars could be seen from where Juli stood. The stars always looked the same. Over all these years they were still the same. The world had changed so much but the stars have stayed the same all this time. Except one. Sometime ago one star just disappeared and no one noticed but her. When you gaze upon the stars all your life in thought you notice these things.
She looked down from the stars to look at the bar she stood before decided whether to actually go in or not. She was getting annoyed with her bosses lack of initiative so she decided to go in. She walked up to the bar, took a seat, and ordered a drink. She sat there quietly think to herself while drinking for a while before someone came up to her. The young guy came up and rested his elbow on the bar and looked her up and down.
"What do you want?" she asked him without even turning to him.
"How would you like a drink?" he asked, thinking himself cool.
"I already have one." she said without emotion.
"Heh, well how would you like something else from me. He gave out a small chuckle at how 'clever' he was.
Juli turned to him and smiled.
"There is something I would like from you." Julia said as she got up and pulled him to the back. The exited the door into the alley way. There he started making his moves on her. He was mediocre and was completely useless as most men she met were. It had been quite some time since she met anyone who could please her the way.... he could.
Before the pathetic little man could do anything she pulled his head aside and laid her teeth into the neck of the man. He tasted of ash and alcohol but she had had worse. When she was done with him she threw him down in the garbage. He had been so drunk he would have thought he got lucky and passed out when he woke up anyway.
She stepped out of the alley and lit up a cigarette. She stood there beneath the stars and sucked on the cig till it burnt down to the butt and she tossed it away. She got a text soon after words. 'boss has a meeting huh?' She tucked her phone away and lit another cig as she walked to the car.
When she reached the HQ she went ahead and entered the meeting room. She walked forward and stood like a bird of prey behind her boss. Her back straight and her head high. You could tell by her demeanor that she would kill for him. As she stepped up behind him she gently moved Shade out of the way. She leaned forward and spoke into Mr. Colt's ear.
"Mr. Colt," she said with an attitude which was probably all to familiar to him "Where in hell have you been? No offense sir."...
How Cute!! <3