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Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
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|Subject: VtM: Moonlight Tue Sep 13, 2011 10:30 pm|| |
[W.I.P Character Sheets - View @ Google Drive]
What is craved? What do any of our kind wish for?Chapter I – Child Of The Night
Freedom, you say? They want freedom from...what?
They are already immortal. The coil does not affect them, so why would they want this?
Moreover, the idea of living a life built with no rules, is nothing but chaos.
Which is suitable in some respects, but there are those who cannot abide such a thing.
Not me, you understand, at least not completely, but given what I am, the position I hold, one should be able to see why I think in such a way.
But what fate should befall you?
Ah yes. To wander in the light of the moon.
Stumbling through a set of large gates, a young woman made her way into the cemetery. Her clothing stained with blood, from her neck, down to her waist, she left this out of her concerns, as she walked through the rows of graves. Much was on her mind, but nothing was pervasive as what had happened to her. Perhaps then it was all a blur, but then, as she could see it now, it was as clear as day. But in thinking of it, it was hard to comprehend, as it involved something that ever single ounce of her sanity was trying to deny. But it would not be sated. It continued to tell her that the truth was indeed what she saw, none of the memory was changed, and as such, sanity was slipping.
An hour or two earlier, she'd slipped out of bed, and readied herself for the little 'outing' that she and her friends had planned. In truth, it was nothing more than the late-night movie that she'd taken up the offer to see many times before. How this one differed from the last, was only in the ending. The movie was interesting, but for the most part it didn't do much to catch her interest. Normally it would be the type to do so, though it could've been because her girlfriends wasn't fond of it either – though in their case, it was due to the general theme of the movie, more than the story. Once they left the theater, she chose to hang around while the rest took off. As she contemplated seeing a movie of her own choosing, she found herself grabbed, and taken the nearest alleyway. There, she found herself face to face with a pair of eyes that was frightening, though none of the muscles in her body made a move. Its at that point that her vision blacks out, and the next thing she sees, is the cemetery across the street, and realizes the existence of a burning sensation in her throat. Whatever compelled her to enter the cemetery is a mystery, but this mattered very little.
Slumping down next to a grave-stone, her eyes lingered on the name. Her brother, who had died only a month ago. He was only a few years younger than she was, and had been about to become a Junior in high-school. The reason for his death was a cause of aggravation for her, as the cause, was nothing that could be helped. She felt tears in her eyes as these thoughts – even though she had not done so in the last two weeks.
“Sad, isn't it? Seems some come off much better than others, though unlike them, we are forced to live our death, rather than go to it peacefully.”
Turning her head almost as quickly as one of an avian species, she caught the calm, almost comforting stare of a man, whose taste in clothing was nothing but extravagant. All of the material covering his skin was white, aside from the tall boots, belt, and leather gloves, which were the contrasting black leather that is to be expected. The rest, consisted of a dress shirt that looked only somewhat Military, and a pair of leather pants, whose belt had a holster attached to it. Even more than that, his skin was dreadfully pale, as white as his clothing. The eyes that stared at her where a soft shade of blue, and his face, which looked more like it had been sculpted, rather than born on the skull of a man, was framed by a mostly well-kept hairstyle, though a few stands hung over his face.
Through the feelings of her aching body, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the one who attacked her. “Who are you?”
He knelt next to her, and smiled. “The answer to your first question, is no. I am not the one who attacked you, and I am not about to do so. I am far more charitable than that. In fact, my intent is merely to tell you nothing but the truth. Which should be a shock, since as far as your concerned, what you are is impossible.”
The tears flowed, though she did not care. “Then...what am I?”
The man before her sighed. “While I do intend on telling you the complete truth, most of it can wait. However, there is one fact of your new life that I must tell you about.” He smiled. “How do you feel?”
The question puzzled her. It was obvious that this man knew much more than she did about, whatever she was, but he was holding back, in favor of something he thought more urgent. The possibility of him thinking something perverted crossed her mind, but that didn't fit. Namely because she was no more than a defenseless girl, and he hadn't done so much as to move towards her, at least not in a threatening way. But as to what he asked, the only thing she felt, was...empty. The burning sensation in her throat felt like she hadn't had anything to drink for days, and then there was this, thirst. Beyond the burning, it wanted. Almost like it was clawing at her, wanting nothing more than for it, along with her, to feel satisfied. “I don't know. I feel thirsty, but I don't know for what. My throat burns, and I feel, empty.”
He smiled. “Then what you need, is to feed. It is expected of our kind.” He stood, and feverishly looked around. “Unfortunately, it is this part which you may not like. Since what you want, is-”
But she wasn't listening. Even though she heard his voice, another became more pervasive. Though it had no face, it still seemed to scream at her, with an animalistic furry that would not be denied. In some ways it scared her, as it was almost tugging at her muscles, like it wanted to use her body for it's satisfaction, though still, what it wanted, it was doing everything but telling her what it wanted. Looking up at the man, she could now see it. Through his clothing, through his skin, veins like red, glowing lines, showing her the very thing she lusted for. Though she wanted to protest, she had no choice.
“Eh? What are you-”
Cutting him off, she leapt towards him, forcing him to the ground. A loud snarl escaped her mouth, as she bit into his neck. Without care, she drew blood from his wound, and felt a sort of pleasure that she couldn't describe. Better than an orgasm, better than sex, it was a feeling far beyond what she'd ever felt before. However, as she drew his blood, the thing that forced her to do it, seemed to satisfy itself, while she did so herself. What puzzled her now, was why he wasn't even struggling to throw her off. In fact, he'd even put his arms around her back, almost like this was nothing more than a hug, which he'd initiated.
When she was finally able to remove her fangs from his neck, she looked him in the eyes. Nothing about them, or even his face, seemed angry. Rather, he seemed somewhat delighted, though her feelings couldn't be any more different. Maybe her situation wasn't the worst, though there was so much she didn't know, aside from the fact that she'd just drank what she could only know as human blood. As for anything she could say, there was nothing.
“Don't worry. There is much worse you could've done, and thanks to my presence, your need to do such things doesn't exist.” He stood, still holding her in his arms. Carefully setting her down, he still held onto her shoulders, like a child. “I hate to say it, but I cannot simply let you walk away, much less go back home. I do not wish to sound like I have need to keep you captive, no, that isn't my wish. It is simply that there is more, much more that you need to know, and several problems may be created, if I do leave you to your own devices.”
By now, this night seemed as though it would go on forever. Not because dawn would never come, but in the short walk down the dark streets, it seemed so. Though she had little on her mind, she couldn't help but notice the rather large gate they approached, and the large estate behind it. She paid little attention to the surroundings, at least until they entered the house. Though the detail she didn't dwell on, it was the man standing before her that seemed to catch her interest, as well as that of the one she'd cling to since she found herself unaware of many things the world held – at least since blood graced her skin, her clothes, and the blood that was forced into her mouth, as she felt like slipping away.
“Sir, might I ask as to what is going on?”
“It isn't what it seems, as I wouldn't do such a thing. However, I have it handled, so you can toddle off, as you so wish, Eric.”
It was rather confusing, as she hadn't heard many names – not many people were around the house either. Though the one who had greeted them seemed to be some sort of servant, he also seemed to think her 'friend' had done something wrong, and that assertion was quickly proven wrong by a quick word. The servant walked off, though she was unsure of him, nothing seemed to suggest she needed to think much of him, at least not now. She was lead to a sitting room of sorts, that was rather darkly lit, if only because the clock suggested that it was far earlier in the morning than she'd thought. She moved to sit down, only for the man to stop her.
“Before you make yourself comfortable, lets get you out of those bloody clothes. At least that jacket and shirt.”
Though she felt uncomfortable doing it, she found herself taking off the things he'd mentioned, and only feeling the slight embarrassment once she'd given him the clothes. She was wearing a bra, but somehow the perverse looks that she expected, didn't come. While her friend did seem to take a quick look, it seemed that there was something else to it, rather than a simple wish to stare at her chest. But even that didn't seem to be it. He was interested in her, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to come back into the room, only to force himself on her.
“I'll have these cleaned.” He sighed. “To lessen your confusion, you can call me Makrev.” Turning, he walked out of the room.
After he'd left, she couldn't help but feel like a baby in the arms of demons. Though she suspected that even if she was such, she was one of the demons, so it was also where she belonged. Whatever the name was, it didn't matter. It's what she was. As much as it worried her, as much fear that was likely pouring out of her, acting, or even truly being scared of what she'd become, was a mistake that would bring her far more pain than accepting...whatever she was.
Turning her head, she heard a shudder. For that reason, she noticed the coffin that laid far to close to the sofa she sat on, than she liked. It wasn't as frightening as she would've expected, but it was the mere fact that, some new instinct was telling her that, whatever was inside, was far from dead. As she took another look at the coffin, she noticed the crescent-moon shape on the lid, that had a 'K” just below the downward-facing curve. Standing, she inched her way towards it, trying to put aside this new fear.
Once at arms length, the lid slid off, and she saw the only thing that she couldn't possibly have expected. The one who emerged from the Coffin seemed to be a kid, though that was putting it simply. Though obviously a male, some of the qualities suggested female, such as the rather soft-shaped face. When he looked at her, she couldn't help but admire the pale blue eyes, which seemed far more puzzled, than enraged. As for clothing, he wore little, nothing more than a pair of white, bikini styled underwear, and two black and white gauntlets on his arms.
“Who...Who are you?”
The kid seemed puzzled. “The better question here, is who you are. I do hope that, if you are...” The kid's eyes narrowed, as he seemed to somehow smell or see something that she couldn't. “Why are you here? Whose blood sired you?”
“I don't know what you mean. I don't even know what I am.” She walked back over to the sofa, and sank back onto it.
The kid picked up a sleeveless, hooded, long black jacket from a nearby chair, and slid that on, taking no care to zip it up – though he did snap a single button on the collar. “My name is Kami, to answer one of your questions. Though, can you answer one of mine?”
Before he could continue, Makrev re-entered the room. “Ah, I thought you might awaken by now. And I can answer that for you. She was embraced by a yet unknown one of our kind. As you know, they will be dealt with swiftly, when found.”
Kami sighed. “Fine. I guess I'll find out more when you do.“ He brushed a hand through his dark, shiny hair. “I'd be careful how fast you tell her about everything. She looks close to breaking already.” He left the room, as Makrev took a glass decanter from the nearby desk, and set it on the table between them, then sat down himself.
“What exactly is that?” She asked.
Sighing, he looked her in the eye. “I know how this is going to sound. I've told this little story before, though it was to those who knew far more than you do. But the truth, which I know you desire, is that you are Kindred.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Mon Jan 26, 2015 11:36 am; edited 10 times in total
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
Location : Normandy SR-2
|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Wed Sep 14, 2011 2:22 pm|| |
Chapter II – The Truth is a Masque
“What you know of our kind, is likely the lies that have been propagated by those of a creative mind, and all of them, human. However, the truth, is that we are real.”
“Fine. But what are 'we', then? I can't say I know what 'Kindred' means.”
Makarev sighed. “We are Vampires, love.” He used two fingers to prop open his lips, and she watched one of his teeth, extend into a fang.
Though she wanted to protest this, it was clear that he spoke nothing but the truth, or at least a little of it. Lowering her head, she set her eyes on the bottle, and there was no question to ask. Where it came from didn't matter, only that the substance inside was, unmistakably, blood. Though she didn't reach for it and consume the contents, it seemed settling to her, knowing that it was present. It was to her delight, when Makarev placed two glasses on the table, filling them both with a generous amount of the blood. Sliding one towards her, she felt no reason to hold back, as she pick the glass up, and put it to her lips, feeling once again like she'd been through the best kind of sex one could get.
“Well, that is the idea.” Makarev said, only casually sipping the blood. “You know the best place to get it, though you'll want to be careful when you do so. However, I am slightly curious – what is your name?”
She looked up at him, then set her half-empty glass down. “Elizabeth. But most just call me Liz.”
“I'd ask if you have anything to do with the queen, but it matters very little.” He set his own glass down.”What matters more, is the truth of the society that Vampires frequently involve themselves in. Which, overlaps little with human society, though that is a point many, unfortunately, argue.”
Adjusting her position on the sofa, she couldn't help but 'remind' herself her lack of clothing. Though she still thought little of it. “That must mean, there are some sort of rules that I have to follow? As in, it isn't just free reign once you become a Vampire?”
He smiled. “The somewhat unfortunate answer to that, is yes. Though you'll find that most use the word 'Kindred', to refer to our kind, which I already mentioned. However-” He sighed, hating the explanation. “-The Camarilla, is the response our kind had to the Inquisition. The real reason behind it, even if you don't care, is the ever present human fear of Vampires. Though as you well know, various factors have allowed our kind to exist with humans, though the idea is that, they believe we are nothing more than a myth, or the pride of Hollywood's movie monsters. Half of it is human fear, while the other is the Camarilla's rules – chief among them being the Masquerade we enforce.As far as I have seen, these rules are only limiting if you can find sufficient reason to fight against the rules. At some point, the rules always seem to bend, depending on who is enforcing them.”
Before she even thought to speak again, she took the crystalline glass in her hand, and consumed the rest of the blood within it. “So humans don't know about our kind, and cannot find out – lest the Masquerade be broken. Simple.”
“Yes, it seems that way, doesn't it? Though the problem with a rule, is never how simple it is to follow. The problem with most rules, is that no matter how sensible they are, the thought processes of a thinking mind can simply ignore the rule, and do whatever it is they wish. At times, no one cares, but like the circumstances that lead to your embrace, those are the type that I mean.”
She blinked a few times. “Um, you mean, what exactly? That there is some sort of problem...with me?”
Makarev shook his head. “Not with you, not yet. But whatever Vampire chose to embrace you without permission, will face nothing more than final death, once found. Unless the Prince is feeling cheritable, and there is a damned good reason not to kill whatever lick was involved.”
Lizzy set the glass down, but only after she'd licked the inside if it clean. She made herself comfortable on the sofa again, still unphased by the fact that she wasn't wearing very much. “That can't be it. Sure, I wouldn't mind if it was, but there has to be something else.”
“Of course there is more, much more. But not about the rules of the Camarilla. Just as there are many different types of animals, there are different types of Vampires. We all share certain aspects, abilities, but the differences, no matter how slight, make us what we are. All of the clans have something about them that is different, and we are no exception.” He finished the small amount of blood in his glass, and moved to refill it without hesitation.
She blinked. “A Clan? You don't mean something like...”
He shook his head before she finished. “No, not at all like some group of pretentious fools with a singular idea. While most of any clan may share ideas and beliefs, not all will. Our clan, for example, tends to be the sort of person who has obscene amounts of currency in life, and is expected to make even more than that in short order after his or her embrace. Not all are like this, though any of our blood favors money, which could also be said for those of any other clan, though not all.”
“Hmm...” She licked her fangs. “So I'm of the same clan, that you belong to?”
He nodded. “Indeed. We are both Ventrue, and that does entitle you to certain things – namely a certain level of respect among the Camarilla Clans. But any more than that, you may have to work for. Not very hard, as any like us possess the tendency to gain money and status, with little effort on our part.”
“What about the other clans?”
“As I said, most of them are different in their own way, but sometimes the uniqueness depends on the person. As with our clan, you may get those who act a perfect representation of what is expected of any Ventrue, but you may also get one who does not. And to top it off, there are even those who subvert the Camarilla, either preferring a life of 'absolute freedom' of choice in the Sabbat, or choosing to rebel against the Camarilla's rules as an Anarch. Either path is not pretty, but given that it is walked by Vampires, that is to be, expected.”
She sighed. “So, I guess...I don't have a choice, do I?”
He stood, walking towards the window. “The truth, is that you do. Some others, would not give you such a thing, but then, they would also have killed you on the spot, or possibly had you hauled of to be publicly humiliated, and then killed on top of that – all for something that you never asked for, never wanted. But such things help no one, and, well, I may be a man whose heart doesn't beat, but I see no reason for you, or any like you to face final death. At least in your case, you've done nothing wrong.” He finished of the rest of his blood, and continued. “What does any of our kind want? We already gain immortality, power, and various other things upon our embrace. But then, nothing in life tends to make it exactly how you want it, even if you go as far as to fight for it. Those of our kind chose as they do, likely because they feel that their purpose better fits their own choice, than the choice of someone who does not understand them – or just believes they do.”
“Even if all that makes sense, you really didn't answer my question. Though I don't think it matters much, since if siding with...whichever one your on, means that I get to stay in a house like this one-” She looked around. “-I don't think I want to make a choice at all, since it seems already made for me.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Tue Oct 11, 2011 4:25 pm; edited 2 times in total
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Mon Oct 03, 2011 4:40 am|| |
Chapter III – Screw The Bloody Rules
“You know the rules. You are simply worried, not because the fault is yours, but because you care for the one that would be killed. However...” The Kindred before Makrev sighed. “...I am not the type to do such a thing. I enforce the rules, just as any Prince does. However, even though it is believed that these rules are all but etched in stone, you'll find that they are, somewhat, flexible.”
Makrev sighed. “So you don't mind that another Vampire, used my blood to embrace without consent, and rather than having me and the girl on trial, you are letting us off?”
“Makrev, you have known me since your embrace. Since the very moment you walked into...my conclave room as a mere fledgling. I do not do things without reason, even as those with sane minds may argue over it tirelessly. No matter what they think of this, it is not against the rules for a Prince to bend them.” The 'Prince' took a crystalline glass from the desk, which was filled with blood. He drank a fair bit, and continued. “The only one at fault here, is the one who acted as the surrogate for her embrace. They shall face final death when found, while you, and your new childe, will not. I value you in many ways, and I'd rather not kill you over such a trivial matter. Namely when you have little to do with planing to embrace this childe. Whatever fate intends for you, who am I to stand in the way of such things?”
“Then I will put my fears to rest, even if that may take time.” Markrev shifted in his chair, showing that he was still somewhat uneasy.
“Will you? Are you sure that this is the correct path, Darrien?” A feminine voice said, as she entered the room. As the two men caught sight of her, they both noted her exaggerated walk, along with the rather conspicuous clothing she wore, which consisted of a red, hooded robe with a silver trim, along with several pieces of obsidian armor, again with a reddish tint. Her skin, which she showed little of, was rather dark, compared to Makrev or Darrien, but it was still pale. Next to her was a somewhat reserved young girl, of whom, little notice was taken. Her dress was just as lavish, though in tones of black and white.
“Of course. While some of the Primogen may believe the girl to be at fault for being embraced, I do not. As for Makrev, we both know that, just as before, when he desired to embrace, he came to me for the permission.” Darrien drank more of the blood. “I don't doubt his story, so should you, Morgana?”
She stopped, and crossed her arms. “Perhaps not. I've put faith in your, insight, before and perhaps I should do so once again. However, do we know anything about this wayward Kindred?”
Darrien shook his head. “No, not at present. But I do have people looking into the matter. I have consulted with the Anarchs, and all of their numbers are accounted for. As for the Sabbat, I doubt they would embrace one for nothing, even if their only intention was for the fledgling to be nothing but another drone. Add to that the fact that most Sabbat are wary of London, namely because of my rule of it, and it would be foolish to consider a path that casts blame on them.“
Morgana sighed. “Why you tolerate the Anarchs in this city, is beyond me. But it is your choice to make, so I will say no more. However, I can assure you that it is not one of my clan, as you well know, we do not embrace in such a way.”
Makrev smiled. “Curious you say that, when it seems the childe you've brought with you is unknown to me.”
The look Morgana shot Makrev was nothing but murderous. Shedding it, she sighed. “Perhaps not. But the truth, is that the permission was granted to sire young Abigail, though at the time, I wasn't under Darrien's rule. I was in America at the time, and given this girl's...affinity with magic, it was a easy choice. Not only that, she might've been charged with some nefarious crime otherwise.”
Darrien chuckled. “Ah yes. Abigail Bishop. Daughter of the infamous Bridget Bishop. Seems you've had her in torpor for quite some time, though I won't ask why.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Not accused for witchcraft, although from what I've heard, she is quite adept at the Blood Magic that the Tremere are famous for. But what brings my curiosity, is why you feel your counsel is needed for this matter, Morgana?”
“I see that it isn't needed.” She smiled. “However, what I do wonder, is if you truly intend to deal with this matter as the rules imply – or are you going to bend that one as well?”
Standing, Darrien walked around his desk, and grabbed Morgan by the neck, before she could react. “I will not have you questioning me as such, again.” To her sight, his eyes flashed violet. “You will respect my wishes as Prince, or I shall make mention of your continued disobedience to your Lord, and simply see what reaction he will intend.” He put her down. “I may be younger than you, but do not forget that I took control in London for a reason, and have kept it for that same reason. Now, as your part in this matter is finished, you and your childe will leave my office.”
As per what she was ordered to do, Morgana and Abigail left the room. Darrien returned to his seat, and sighed. “No matter how long you hold a position such as this, there are always someone who believes someone else is more qualified. Ignorant fools. Even if others know what this job takes, why should I give it up for them?”
“I can't find a reason, and I certainly wouldn't want to offer myself up to take it, should there be a reason you would give it up.” Makrev said, his respect for Darrien all too obvious.
“Of course you wouldn't, since you have more than enough to deal with already. Your childe, Kami, your considerable estate, and the small, but prosperous company that you direct. Were I in that position, I would not want to step up either. But enough about it.” He took a small IV bag from a cooler beside him, and drank from it. “Though what I want to know, is if you are just as willing to kill this wayward kindred as I am. When it comes to the end, where we have him displayed before the audience, if for no other reason then to clean up his mistake, would you act as executioner?”
Makrev frowned. “Are you implying that you don't want to understand the Kindred's motivation?”
Shaking his head, Darrien drank more of the blood. “That bit of information is what I would seek first, before he is led like a lamb to slaughter.”
Standing, Makrev nodded. “Then I will not hesitate to kill that bloody lick, and I won't care what he says in his defense.”
Sometime later, Makrev walked out of the large building that was Damian's haven, the only thing on his mind being the Kindred who had, in his eyes, betrayed him. The very idea that a childe of his was sired by his blood without so much as a notion, until he felt her awaken as the Kindred she became. It was sickening to think that such a thing was even possible, but it didn't change his goal. Anyone even remotely attached to the crime would suffer nothing more than Final Death, by the light of the dawn.
“Once again, I find you highly pissed off. Funny, since the last time was the day you entered the Oscuro Estate with your mortal son, and sought permission from Damian to Embrace him. You might not have done the same tonight, but I would guess that something similar has occurred?”
Makrev turned, only to lay eyes on Alice, the Primogen for the Gangrel. He knew her very well, perhaps a little too well for the tastes of some. She wasn't the typical Gangrel, looking more like a busty fox than an angry wolf – more the type to cradle you like a pup, than fight you. Nothing about her was betraying her nature, as it was just her hair that seemed to look almost like she had the traits of a fox. Her clothing was the usual kimono she sometimes wore, though she mostly favored wearing as little as possible. He knew quite well that, even without the need to guess, that she wasn't wearing much under the white obi, and the red hakama. This aside, her eyes weren't at all condescending. She never found reason to hate Makrev, or any around him.
“This time is different, though for a reason that infuriates me. It is probably luck that spared me and my new childe from final death, but that does not do very much to clam my nerves.”
She smiled, her fangs extending in her usual playful mood. “Let me guess. She was Sired with your blood, but you had nothing to do with it? Other than the inescapable fact that your blood was used during the embrace, and thus she is your childe, rather than that of anyone else. Such a thing would annoy me as well. I wonder who had the balls to do such a thing, namely when it would be obvious they would point the blame at you, first, rather than anyone else.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Tue Feb 26, 2013 2:50 am; edited 1 time in total
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
Location : Normandy SR-2
|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Sat Oct 29, 2011 12:05 am|| |
Chapter IV – Foolish
Makrev sighed. Was it his intention to walk into such a situation? Of course not. But once again, he found himself accosted by a couple of punks, who, as per the disgusting ideal, that his clothing marked him as weak, and someone who is obsessed over something he can never attain. At least that is what they thought, or so it seemed. He couldn't help but laugh the very second they called out to him, knowing exactly how the situation would play out. Even so, he had other ideas. As per the Masquerade, he wouldn't expose himself, but he would get out of the situation in such a way that he could even though no one of significance would ever know.
“You are all fools. It matters very little what you think of me, since your choice to interact with someone such as myself, is going to prove the end of you. Well, most of you, anyway.”
Was he a stranger to the common rabble, those who thought violence was usually the only option? Not in the least. It didn't matter if it were Vampires, humans, or even the other few supernatural species he'd had the displeasure of meeting – though he wasn't sure that they needed to be so. However, most of those situations ended in peaceful talks, rather then the bloody violence that some believe customary for Kindred. He was still curious, since this current crop seemed to lack motivation.
“Do you speak? I would hope so, for this world is not very forgiving of one does not. Though, even if you have the gift of speech, it does not mean that it will be useful to you. Words do not always bring salvation – more often they can not only bring damnation, but obscure it, until it is to late to repent.”
It was of little surprise when they said nothing. That did make it clear that more words would be wasted on these humans, if for no other reason than the fact that they had no interest in talking. A shame, since it was quite rare for Makrev to even find the slightest possibility for interesting conversation, outside of his own home.
He turned to the dark alleyway to his right, and smiled. He could see what knelt in the darkness, and his mouth contorted into a smile. “They are nothing but the dregs of society. Gang members, possibly. Even without interrogation, I can taste their guilt in the night air.” He turned his head to face the men again, but he still spoke to the darkness. “I am quite thirsty, and I suspect that you are on the hunt tonight as well. Shall we end their miserable existence?”
“How could I possibly object to that? Though, they are cute, even if none of them are truly worth my time.” The voice that spoke was mostly feminine, but the speaker was not. From the darkness, a young male walked, wearing a tight leather bodysuit, with various belts attached at the waist, arms, and legs. His face was smooth, with no blemishes or other defining marks, and his eyes were a bright shade of red. The hair that framed it was pixie-like, being somewhat spiked. He wore tall boots, with more belts. On the belt at his waist, an empty sheath was attached, the long, curved sword in his hand. His eyes flashed red as his fangs bared. Many of the thugs found themselves frozen in fear at this sight.
“So how does this work, then? Half and half, or should I just pick a sweet one and let you deal with the rest, Shokosu?” Makrev smiled.
He smiled, turning his head to the thugs. Jumping after them, he slashed the throat of two, and grabbed another from behind. He snarled, driving his fangs into the man's neck. A trickle of blood slid down the human's neck, while the sounds of his life drained away. Dropping nothing but a corpse, he turned to face the rest. As the last two tried to run, he ran after them. Simply killing one, he grabbed the other, throwing him in Makrev's direction. “Feast on this one, Blue-Blood.”
Smiling, Makrev grabbed the man. “Interesting. You've been rather loose with yourself, haven't you? Well then, if you love men that much, won't you like me?” His blue eyes flashed as he snarled, his fangs bared. Driving them into the flesh of his prey, he savored the taste, drawing the sweet, crimson nectar down his throat.
“You never were a sloppy eater. I can help being so, since most humans never have the taste I like. Most that do, well, they fill their sexual palette with whatever they can.” He smiled. “As most of our kind do.” He slowly slid the katana back into it's sheath, the blade making a brief 'chink' sound as the guard touched the sheath.
Dropping the body, Makrev smiled. “It is almost a waste, but I'm just lucky this one hasn't touched cocaine in some time – and while he was satisfying, he isn't the sort I crave.” Wiping his chin, Makrev sighed.
“Maybe so. But I think we both know that I didn't seek you out to hunt this night.”
Makrev leaned against the side of a building. “No, you wouldn't – unless it was one of those parties. I'd hope Alice hasn't decided to take the same stance as I know Morgana has?”
Shokosu shook his head. “No, she still supports Darrien's choice, but she is curious about your new childe, as most of the Primogen are – though the rest have yet to truly say if they have a problem with it. I don't doubt that Morgana will keep her silence, but as for the rest, well, they are much more difficult to read, as I haven't seen them very much. You know they tend to avoid me, just as they avoid Kami.”
Makrev doubted that the other Primogen would find him, or Liz at fault for what had happened, but they would likely want the same as Makrev truly did – to find the guilty one. Aside from the obvious failings, it was usually true that no one escaped the judgment of the Camarillla. Barring some extraordinary circumstances, any who crossed it, met with their fate in short order, or they were pursued relentlessly. Perhaps a few were spared, but those cases depended very much on the Kindred who acted as Prince. “Do you think this situation is, at all, unusual?”
Shokosu frowned. “Of course it is. Do you really think that it would be anything else?” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You mean something much more than that, don't you?”
Did he? Was there more to his thoughts, that meant the entire situation wasn't as it seemed? Certainly a possibility, but there was no way as of yet, to say for sure. However, as eager as he was to put it behind him, he knew it wouldn't be simple. With Kindred, simple was killing the one who threatened you, your power, your wealth, or whatever else you had. It only becomes complex, when you don't know who the threats come from. It certainly wasn't a new situation, but it was one he had not been in before. Many had faced their final death, because they crossed him. In this case, they hadn't threatened anything, aside from his life, along with Elizabeth's. “If there is, I certainly want it brought to light very soon. Even if I like standing in darkness, I know that seeing within it is easy. However, it is sometimes true that understanding within it, is far more difficult.”
Shokosu nodded. “Then I guess you have pay Annabelle a visit. Hasn't it been over twenty years since you've last spoken with her? Though I haven't seen her in some time either.” He smiled. “Taking...Liz, was it? Would be interesting, since Annabelle is likely to know something.” With that, he set off into the night, moving into the darkness like a wary feline.
Makrev looked up at the sky. “Truth from the minds of madness...Truth from voices which others pass over like fools...Maybe I am just as insane as she for thinking to listen.”
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Mon Oct 31, 2011 9:53 pm|| |
Chapter V – Insight To Betrayal
Elizabeth sighed. While she liked the various amenities that were provided to her, she found many things annoying. Most of them related to the fact that she was a Vampire, though it wasn't something she thought common. She found drinking blood to be, if nothing else, delicious. Nothing said she was an absolute sadist, as she found the few mortals that hung around the mansion far better alive than dead – the same thinking that most of the others had. Though it might seem like the girls, or in some cases guys, were held there for no other reason than to be receptacles for the blood their hosts to eagerly craved, it wasn't the case. They surely didn't lead normal lives, but Liz wondered what a truly 'normal' life was. For her, at least since her embrace, she found being a Vampire quite normal – though others would not share this ideal. Some did, but they didn't seem to put much weight in it. Nor did she, really. But the thoughts were pervasive, and difficult to avoid.
Her current annoyance, lay in the fact that Makrev had denied her what she thought was a well-deserved nap, only to cart her off to what was clearly a pawn shop. His reasons where unknown to her, like a great many things. Thought that, she suspected, would be learned quicker than she was willing to listen. Even as they both removed themselves from the car. Makrev had yet to say a single word to her. The first words she'd heard spoken since they had left the mansion, came from the shopkeeper, who could've passed for a Vampire. It was only the enhanced vision that her discipline gave her that told her this, thought she wasn't every experienced in it.
“Why should I be surprised that it is you who walks through my door – the self-same Ventrue Primogen, who caused a great deal of hell during, and after the war..” The man who said this was almost defined by his pure white hair, thought he was quite young. His eyes seemed those of someone with many years upon them, and they stared at Liz with some interest. “Hmm...and this would be the source of your current aggravation, even though what you think of her, is...quite interesting. However, you can't possibly be here for the quick cash that I often find many wanting. What is it that you wish, blue-blood?”
“I have need to speak with Annabelle. If for nothing else, than to figure out...something about nights past, and the coming nights.” He carefully removed the sunglasses from his face, placing them in a pocket on the inside of his jacket.
“As is always your wish. Mentioning the fact that she has been...expecting you, may be cliché, but I do it all the same.” The man pointed to a black, glossy door, with little more than a horizontal handle decorating it.
The next part was not unexpected. They both walked through the door they were directed to, and up two sets of stairs, which lead into a rather dark room, lit only by a very dim violet light. Through the darkness, Liz could easily see the furniture was of high quality, at least what was there. A sofa or two, a pair of leather padded arm-chairs, two end tables, and a few other miscellaneous pieces that she didn't bother focusing on. The most noticeable thing in the room, in contrast with what she had already noticed, was the large coffin that sat next to a wall, with a unusual poster that adorned the aforementioned wall, though it was only advertising a rock-band that Liz hadn't heard of, thought the name did seem to be a misspelling of 'Camelot'.
“So where exactly is this....Annabelle, you said?” Liz asked, taking a seat on a sofa.
Makrev shrugged, though the look on his face didn't seem right. “She isn't the type to have guests within her domain, and have no knowledge of the said guests. Even if she slumbers in deep darkness, she knows we are here. She is much like a Tzimisce in that respect, but she isn't at all a fiend.”
“Then what exactly is she? Definitely not like you, or so it seems.”
He sighed. “She is a Malkavian. Such a thing means that, to some level, she is insane. But as I said about the clans before, even with the flaws we possess, it is never the same. In her case, she is far more inclined to the insight of insanity, rather than the crazed talk of a mentally deficient mind that means little to nothing.”
Liz sighed just the same. “Maybe I should ask her, but as she isn't here, that isn't possible. What else can you tell me about her...just so I know?”
“It isn't the most tasteful story, though one could argue that no kindred takes to un-life so easily. Where my own story is, almost such that was rather easy to become Kindred, for her, it was not.” He took a seat. “Being a slave is something that, I doubt you are familiar with, but the concept of slavery is likely to be something that you are aware of, if nothing else. A slave is what Annabelle was, even though, as she has said to me, and possibly a few others, she comes from a family that seems to originate within the Pharaoh’s of Ancient Egypt. Though, if there is any truth to that story, I certainly cannot be sure. By the time she became a slave, however, her family was poor, and the ideals of the Ancient Egyptians had become no more than they are today – history to be taught, but never-more believed as truth, at least not the widespread fashion it was.”
Liz smirked. “Are you actually saying that some Kindred thought her a viable subject to share their blood?”
“I do hope that remark does not mean you support such an ignorant idealism, but the answer to that is yes. Though she may know, no one living knows the name, much less the gender of her sire. Annabelle seems to believe that the one who embraced her was female, though others protest that very idea, as mired as they are in the 'old-days'. I can't say for sure exactly why Annabelle was embraced, but then again, how could one such as I understand the motives of such an old Kindred?”
Taking the time to get comfortable on the sofa, Liz smirked again. “Why I would believe something like that, I do not know, since that was no more than a question. Though what about her time as a slave?”
“During the time that she was, the practice wasn't yet widespread, so it was more, or so I believe, the indentured servitude that was practiced before, and perhaps in a certain fashion afterward. The one who owned her seemed to care for her to a rather gratuitous extent, and she was treated quite well. This is in contrast to slavery's practiced in Colonial America, where more care was due to a slave's work or ability to work, rather than their livelihood.” He took a silver flask from his jacket, and drank a fair bit, before replacing it.
“What about her embrace? What do you know about that?”
Makrev sighed. “Not much, but Annabelle has mentioned it on occasion. The Vampire who selected her for the embrace, seemed to watch her whenever possible, wanting to learn, not only about Annabelle, but of the customs of the period. I gather that her Sire had been in Torpor for some time, though I am not aware of how long.” He brushed a hand over his forehead, and through his hair – almost like he was sweating. “What I gather of the occurrence, her 'owner' was spared upon Annabelle's embrace, though I am not aware if her Sire attacked the house to more easily do the deed, or if it was a far different affair.”
“Two dead souls within my desolate haven, both with azure blood.” The voice was coarse, almost feral, though with a deepness to it that betrayed its location. Both Liz and Makrev looked to see the Vampire that stood in what was once an empty door frame, with nothing but blackness beyond. Her frame was slender, with curves worthy of a fashion model, and skin like a cup of espresso, much of which was shown, due to the rather skimpy black bra and panties she wore, along with the rather thin, white robe that merely hung at her shoulders, even if her arms were within the sleeves. She seemed to be covered in sweat, if not something else, her short black hair dangling over her face, her mis-matched eyes quite interested in the scene before her, and the smile on her face showed off her petite fangs.
“Annabelle. Sorry to intrude in your haven without your prior consent, but your ghoul did mention you where...expecting us?” Makrev said, his sight focused.
She did nothing but stare at Liz, and slowly walk towards her as she spoke. “You. Changed by a Kindred that is not your Sire, and your Sire, though unaware of your Embrace at the time, accepts you as if he performed the act himself.” Taking Liz's hand, she smiled. “Like so many others, you have a destiny before you, and the obvious question that you must pose to yourself, is if you are ready for it, since no one else will tell you.”
“And what, exactly, would this 'destiny' be?”
Annabelle smiled. “It is one of our kind, who wishes for nothing, but to see corruption spread though every vein of this city. To see life, to see mortal and Kindred alike, exhibit the most degenerate traits that any species has to offer. Those who follow darkness itself.”
Makrev seemed furious. “The Followers of Set. Snakes, who wish to see bloody corruption sent through every city, and to bring nothing but chaos to wherever they inhabit.” He turned to look at Annabelle. “So you mean to say that it was one of them?”
She looked at him, smiling. “Yes. The motivation of the snake in question, or the identity I cannot tell you, but I can say that it is part of a much larger plot, one that wishes to see past events, occur once again.”
Liz blinked. “Um, who exactly are we talking about?”
“I told you already that there are a few clans that do not ally themselves or their clan with the Camarilla, or the Sabbat One of these, are the Followers of Set. They believe that their clan founder was the Egyptian God Set himself, and that upon his return, he shall spread the darkness much further than the clan itself has been able to.” He sighed. “I haven't dealt with them very much, but it is of no surprise that they might try something like this. My only problem, would be that I may know it was one of them that sired you, but I cannot say how or why.”
Annabelle smiled at Makrev. “Betrayal. One close to you, someone who you know, whose mind changed, enough for them to try for your death.”
Liz looked surprised. “Does she mean...Eric, the ghoul that asked you about me when you first brought me to the mansion?”
The look on Makrev's face was nothing short of murderous. “If that is the case, please excuse me.” He fled the room far faster than human eyes could've seen, his intent just as murderous as his looks.
Annabelle softly touched Liz's shoulder. “This will end in death, caused by many. What I wonder of you, is if you are willing to hold such weight?”
Liz sighed. She'd already known from the start that death was a present event in this life, but to think it would come this close. Perhaps soon, it would come closer than the possibility of getting executed by the city's prince. That was a forgone conclusion, but now, something else was stirring, something she could only see as a shadow in the night. What this would be, it seemed that even Annabelle couldn't say. How much stock Liz could put in the words of such an inherently insane woman, couldn't be known. Every word could be true, or it could all be nothing but ramblings worthy of any asylum.
“Death is already a part of this life. I died once already, and I don't want to face that eventuality again. But why am I the one who has to deal with this? Why me?” She turned around, facing Annabelle.
Once again, that smile bled onto Annabelle's face. “Many have asked that, and many more have died before it was answered. But with you, might I say that it might've been simply, that you were in the ideal location? Though it is only a possibility that you where, as it is equally possible that you where specifically selected for the embrace, even though the one who did so, did not plan on taking you for their childe.” She gently touched Liz's snow white face. “But you are an interesting foe. There is more to you than an egotistical fop, more than a blue-blood, more than any other of your clan. What that might be, isn't for me to yet know. The first one to know, should be you.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Wed May 01, 2013 4:55 pm; edited 1 time in total
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Sun Nov 27, 2011 4:12 am|| |
Chapter VI – Judas Revealed
“You have done better than I expected, but this isn't over.”
In the darkness of the night, a scantly-clad, dark skinned female stood before a suited, kneeling man. Her sparse clothing was nothing more than numerous pieces of golden jewelery, along with piece of black cloth that loosely covered her breasts, and the area around her hips. She looked at the man before her with poisonous green eyes, a fanged smile decorating her face.
“I did as you asked, just how you asked. I had to make quick work of it as well, since time was obviously against me. But don't you know this already? You were the one who began that girl's embrace, and it was Makrev's blood that finished it.” He sighed, wiping sweat off his forehead. “You are going to ask me to do more, aren't you?”
The woman smiled. “Of course. There is always more to do, and you have proven yourself useful. Though, I suspect that by now, Makrev might know of what you've done. You know what he will want, and unfortunately, I have to ask that you submit to his punishment.” She put her hand to her face, sliding her fingers down the side of her cheeks, almost like she was going to say 'oh-so-tragic'.
His look of shock wasn't unexpected. “Kamena, you can't ask me to even consider that! I joined Makrev to avoid death, and now that I've betrayed him for you, what you ask of me now, is to die?”
Kamena smiled. “Yes. Although you are useful, I see something in your heart that I cannot accept in someone who serves me – and that is hope. Hope that I will embrace you. Hope that, given the slightest chance, you would escape me to pursue your own goals.” She scoffed. “To think that I would embrace anyone who has followed the Camarilla. To think I would embrace someone who can do nothing but follow so blindly. You should've known that I had no intention to embrace you, even though I did speak the words sincerely.” She smiled again, a slight hiss escaping her mouth. “You should understand, that words spoken though fanged teeth, loose much of their weight – even if you have no idea it was lost.”
He sighed. “You cannot possibly ask me, to walk to my death, willingly. I don't know what Makrev will do, but it won't be good for me. In fact, he may even lock me beneath his mansion, and simply wait until I die, rather than expenditure the effort to kill me himself!”
She softly grabbed his chin, her green eyes staring into his, making him hang on the words she would inevitably speak – even if he couldn't know what they would be. “You will do so. You will die, and as you so put it, willingly.” Releasing his chin, she smiled. “When you return to the halls of Oscuro, you will accept full responsibility for your actions, and the punishment you are to be given. You will not resist, and you will certainly not deny what you've done, if they question you about your actions.”
Rather than speaking, she watched him walk into the night, obviously back to the blue-blood. She had little to worry about, as much of the blame would be cast off, once Eric faced his death. Acting in the same way again would be foolish, but there was no need for another, either one of her own blood, or another. The plan as already set in motion, and the next move of the game wasn't hers to make. What she would do next when it was her turn, would begin an end that would make Kindred just as uneasy as all of those who preach of Gehenna's coming. She cared little for that sort of preaching, as it was mostly fledgling fools who actually believed it, those who where told far too soon, and thus they worry about it enough that the mere mention of it causes her undue rage.
“It is almost too easy. To think that I could've done this years ago, and the same thing would occur. But it is of little consequence now, since soon enough I will regain what was taken from my Sire.”
She had spent a long time trying to rationalize why it was her that the snake chose. Out of all the dregs of London, all of the lost and begotten souls, she choose her. The girl with no home, no family, and no care about what needed to be done to survive. Little more than the primal beast known as human – the only thing left to make her such was the fact that she wanted to survive. That she had the hope to make things better – at least for herself. Of all the others that, briefly, she'd counted as friends, they were nothing. No more than stepping stones to a larger goal. Bricks to be set on the wall, and never looked at the same way twice.
The day she found her, was the same as most. Cold, dark, and raining. Down in the slum that she called home, that woman walked about those dirt ridden floors, searching for what she thought a gem amongst the filth. She found it when she first looked into the eyes of a barely functioning teenager, who looked back at her with eyes that were unsure, undecided on what his presence meant. But it wasn't to be the classic case, as she was not drawn into something that wasn't wanted. No, she wanted it. Even as she felt the life drain from her, the slow crawl that was death welcoming her into a kingdom she wasn't destined to see. Then there was the creeping pain, the darkness crawling around her like ravenous perverts, slaking their lust with the part of her body they fancied the most. But the torment wasn't to be eternal. She wasn't drowning in the power – it was being given to her, almost freely. The cost? She died. No, the weak, desiccated woman she was died. Everything about her died – the name, the feelings, and most of all, the willingness to exist as such. The memories stayed, but they were nothing more than a piece of fabric that could be discarded with a flick of a wrist, and so it was. Kamena rose in place of that woman, to fulfill a role that others would inevitably destroy. In their place, she would seek the knowledge that was needed, and then she would make her own place in the world.
But why should she chose some distant local that hardly mattered to her? As much as the memories left a bitter taste in her mouth, the streets of London was what she would call home. The clan she'd chosen to serve had done so long before her, and as such, the choice was easy to make. But she wasn't following blindly. She was much more than just another soldier to fight a battle she cared little about. The war she would fight would be long in coming, and her role wasn't to be righteous, for when had she ever been so?
“Mistress? I have gathered the information you asked for.”
Kamena turned her head, the words breaking through the memories, and smiled when her eyes looked down upon Ishizu, another of her kind. Unlike herself, the girl before her was younger, though she had experiences and knowledge that many others like her could not lay claim to. As per the usual, the girl wore implements that suggested the flavor of her blood, but otherwise kept it hidden. Currently, she wore a black leather top and skirt, along with a pair of buckled boots that almost reached her knees. A belt hung loosely near the top of her skirt, and a pair of long leather gloves covered most of her arms. “As I expected you would. Tell me, how did they choose to react?”
Ishizu knelt. “The Prince is obviously aware of the 'crime', though he has chosen to spare the childe, and her Sire. Makrev is obviously aware by now that Eric betrayed him, and plans to question and kill him as soon as he is found.” She paused. “The only possible concern, Makrev's visit to Annabelle. Whatever she told him, I do not know. Possibly, he may know that it was one of the Followers who instigated Eric's betrayal – but he does not know which one, much less if it is one of our blood that simply passed through the area, or a long time resident.”
“Perfect.” She sat herself on a nearby stone bench, and didn't take notice when her almost bare ass touched the cold rock. “However, what of that, problem, you spoke of? About that annoying follower who you said tracked you across America?”
Ishizu made a face, almost like she had blushed. “No more than an annoying Kindred who does no more than any other. Acting very much like an Assassin, he tracks down Kindred that he is paid to kill. Those who pay him are usually Camarilla Princes, Primogen, and even some of the independent clans have Elders that sought, or simply welcomed his services.“
“I find it interesting that you haven't simply confronted and killed him yet. Any reason why?”
Ishizu stood, both her expression and stance, angry. “He played his game like a chess-master. In every city I went, he leaked the stories of my 'crimes' to the local Camarilla or anyone else he knew would care, and thus I almost always had the entire city after my head. In the few cites that had a sizable presence in the form of our clan, they offered the sometimes brief respite from that problem, but even that wasn't enough. I can't say he ever attacked the havens I shared, but he did understand, always, where I was. Chicago, Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Phoenix, DC. Every single one of those cities, he tracked me down, usually within a few months, if not less. Not to mention the fact that I've been hearing rumors that he may be here in London.”
Kamena laughed. “I doubt he will be able to find you within my Temple. Even if he might chose to act much more rashly than he did in the states, it is doubtless that he will act just the same. Hoping to chase you out of London. But that will not happen. I need your assistance, as my goal requires someone like yourself. Perhaps, you might serve the same sort of position you held in New York, once I obtain my goal.”
Ishizu sighed. “Pardon my ignorance, but what do you mean, mistress?”
Kamena stood. “I want this city. For too long, it has been under the Camarilla's shadow. For to long, I have had to live within a city, ruled by a law that I do not accept – that I will not accept. I will drive a stake into the Camarilla in London, starting with the one who controls it all – their Prince. A man, obviously, who drove my Sire out of power.”
“How can you expect to do this? Rarely is the Camarilla chased out of a city, unless the Anarchs, or Sabbat are involved. Do you think we can?”
“We can, and we will. I have done much to further this goal, even if they might believe that I have just started. Won't they be surprised to learn that I am almost finished.”
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Mon Jan 16, 2012 10:50 pm|| |
Chapter VII – Harem Nights
The parties had already been numerous, so much so that some of them were no more than a blur, even if some of them were memorable. None of them functioned like the parties she'd been to before, as the orderves, along with the buffet, wasn't like any restaurant. Various humans, pledged in service to Vampires – and they now were freely allowing others to feed on their blood. Liz could see no problem with this, as it was no different than the various ghouls who hung around the mansion. The only difference was the obvious fact that these humans were, of a lesser quality than her palette demanded. They were satisfying yes, but not as much as what she was used to – or what she knew she wanted.
Rather than the common parties, Makrev mentioned a gathering that proved to satisfy many Kindred in the city, in more ways than one. The parties she'd been to, and by now that she was used to, were somewhat classical affairs, almost like a dinner party, with Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, along with others of the sort, serenading the proceedings. In sharp contrast was the music that played here, it being of a much more modern flavor, far closer to Liz's tastes.
However, even as the music was something that would not be out of place in any of London's nightclubs, the house certainly didn't fit the music. At first, she hadn't the faintest idea, but as she was told, the stylings of the house was mainly due to the fact that Alice spent a large amount of time in Japan, though he did not know if she was embraced there, as she certainly didn't look Japanese. Another reason, as it seemed, was her childe, Shokosu, was from Japan, an orphan who was used in abhorrent ways, even if it was obvious to everyone that it was a duty that Shokosu submitted himself to, both because it wasn't something that involved choice, and after five years, he found himself enjoying it.
“Not exactly what I was expecting, but your looks do matter very little. I only hope that this nasty business is resolved quite soon, since it is far more trouble than it is worth.”
Elizabeth sat cross legged on a rather flat pillow, on one side of a low set table. Across from her was Alice, who did indeed come close to looking like a fox, and the clothing she wore, as Makrev had said, was the usual Kimono, with the top showing of her bountiful breasts, and showing enough cleavage to cause several accidents, and not all of them car accidents. Shokosu was dressed similarly, and Liz couldn't help but mistake him for a girl when they met, and the manner that he explained he wasn't, was nothing short of abrupt. Makrev also sat next to her, his thumb and forefinger holding on to a long stemmed glass, filled with blood.
“I hope so too. Though Eric has been dealt with, the problem is obvious. He isn't able to embrace, so it is the Vampire that helped him that we are after.” Makrev tipped the glass to his lips, draining a small bit of the blood, swirling it a bit in his mouth before he swallowed it.
Shokosu sighed. “If it was the snakes like you said, wouldn't it be easiest to question them?”
Shaking his head, Makrev swirled the remainder of his drink. “It wouldn't help. We do know that the Followers have a considerable presence in the city, but trying to question them would prove pointless. Since they would likely either lie about it, or they would pawn it off as being one of their blood, who was merely passing through, and has since left. However, it is clear to me that if they are involved, there is something much bigger here than some are willing to believe.”
Liz sighed. “Oh yes, I'm sure that makes all of us feel better about the whole thing.”
Alice frowned, setting her glass down. “You know, it could be, well, them.”
The look on Makrev's face was a combination of murderous, and thoroughly amused. “Sure, it could be, but when is that last time you've ever seen, much less heard of those bloody life-eaters in London?”
“Never, really. I have seen them in Japan, of course. None of them are truly courteous, as they are all a disrespectful lot.” She pointed to the scar on her face. “They are the reason for this.”
As with a few other things, Liz found herself confused. Much of the things that she'd been forced to learn about, where fairly simple to understand, even if these things were almost vomit inducing – though obviously she was incapable of that – aside from the one instance where she found herself choking up blood that her body simply would not take. The similar feeling still existed, even though the things she learned about seemed to just keep getting worse. Worst of it all had to be the Baali, which oddly enough, resort to things that even the Tzimisce would never even contemplate. “Um, pardon my ignorance, but, 'Life-Eaters'? Mind explaining that one?”
Sighing, Makrev put his glass down. “The Kindred's perception of them is rather skewed, and to some degree, it is for good reason. Which, is that they view us with contempt, for little to no other reason than the fact that they believe their purpose, their existence, to be much higher than ours. They may not be openly hostile, but if you ever have the chance to speak with one directly, even if it is one that is willing to help you, it will not be long before at least one, if not more of their words come laced with the poison that is hate. It could be said that many kindred disgust and hate them, simply because they are so damned foreign, and that much of their power, lies within their poisonous words, which frequently seep hate into what ever orifice that is open. Perhaps attaining their help is worth it, but never ally yourself with them. The reason? They may act as if you can somehow 'redeem' yourself, but the redemption they offer is not Golconda, if indeed that is real. The only redemption they believe that Kindred can seek, or deserve, is final death.”
Liz shivered. “Are they at all like Kindred?”
Alice shook her head. “In some ways, perhaps. Base similarities, but much more complex is what they truly are. While we are humans who have died through the embrace, they are souls of the worst kind, those who find the deepest darkness in life, and even though seems quite rare, on occasion they are brought back from hell to seek redemption. Beyond that, they feed on 'Chi', or life energy present in humans – which is something they always throw in our face, since they don't need to kill humans for it, even though we don't need to kill them either.”
Shokosu put his cup down. “Has Darrien taken any more of an interest in solving this problem?”
“Of course he has. The fact that we where spared matters very little to most, since they can understand why. But they still want the apparent threat removed, and Darrien has kept a certain vigil over the issue. I talked with him last night, and it seems that he has found someone who can shed some light on the situation.” Makrev poured more blood into his glass, but only filling it half full.
Liz finished her drink, which wasn't blood, but Sake, at sort of rice wine. It was quite good, but she found it odd that the taste was much better when the drink was cold. Neither Shokosu nor Alice could give her a specific reason for that, but she didn't really care either way. What kept bothering her, however, was the unfortunate fact that, while she could easily drink down any sort of wine, alcohol, or any kind of refreshment, and eat almost any kind of food that she could've before, it all seemed pointless in the various occasions which she found herself in-front of a bathroom toilet, or in one of London's dark alleys, and she was either on her knees or leaning her hands against a wall while she puked all of it back up. “Do you think they might know anything valuable?”
Makrev snorted as he drank. “Yes, I'm sure it will be eye opening.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Mon Nov 04, 2013 8:23 pm; edited 1 time in total
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Sat Mar 10, 2012 11:38 pm|| |
Chapter VIII – Blood-Ties
Even though she cold hardly say that last night's party was exhausting, she still felt the familiar feeling that she overdid it. Most others almost bloated themselves on blood, while she was one of the very few that overdid it with both the blood, and the limited supply of alcohol. Everything from cheap beer, to an expensive bottle of scotch. What bothered her, was the fact that she wasn't laying in this bed because she was trying to avoid the unneeded pains of a hangover, but because she was somewhat confused.
Though there had been no real problems with either the other Vampires living within the mansion, which where mostly the ones that either worked for her Sire, or the others, those who would simply visit on occasion. However, even without these problems, she found herself with one regardless. Which, even as childish as it was, she seemed saddled with the same sort of situation she'd been in about ten years ago, when her own brother began relying on her more than she'd liked. However, in this case, Kami wasn't exactly like that. Nothing said that he couldn't get things he needed, or did he ever need to specifically seek her help. If he needed blood, it was ether the stockpile of transfused blood, or he would feed from the many ghouls that made residence in the mansion, his cute charms getting past any of their qualms about letting a child feed on their blood. What he sought from her was family.
She didn't know if he had a sister when he was alive, or what the case might be, but it wasn't a question she felt needed asking. He wanted her to be his sister, and she really couldn't object. Not that Makrev was demanding it of her, and Kami wasn't in such a position that he could rightly give her orders, so no. He was simply asking for something that she had no problem giving. However, that didn't mean that it made her feel any less uneasy. It was a simple yes, and a hug that sealed the deal, though it would not have taken much more than that. Though there was quite the distance in many ways, they seemed to matter much less from that point on.
Turning her head, she sat up. Kami leaned on the closed door, his stare locked on hers. It was a fleeting wonder as to why he'd entered her room, but it wasn't uncommon, since he'd frequently taken to spending the day sleeping with her, but only in the literal sense. Even she knew that such things would pale in comparison to the blood that vexed them both. That, however, was a different story. They were technically siblings, though not in the normal sense. Deep down, she wondered what made Makrev embrace him, but it wasn't something she could bring up so easily. Many other thoughts had almost forced her to pose a question to him, but this was one that didn't seem right. Unless something else brought it on, she couldn't bring herself to ask so simply. Another option was to ask Kami himself, since he would know just the same.
He sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her with a look that almost suggested he was about to cry. A single stream of crimson flowed from his eye, a sight that even she had to wince at. Something of a cruel joke, certainly, since their tears were nothing more than blood, which may seem symbolic on a statue, but for them, it was evocative of sadness, nothing more. He wiped it away as he crawled toward her, settling himself down next to her. His presence was settling, even more-so when he rested his head on her chest, almost forcing her worries away. The questions aside, at this moment, the answers were meaningless.
Raising her hand to grasp and turn the handle, she pushed open the door to Makrev's office, closing the door behind her once she was inside. Walking the length of the room up to the desk, the sight was nothing she hadn't expected. Makrev, sitting behind his desk, it laden with various things, mostly pertaining to both his business and his pleasure. He had his legs up on the corner of the desk, sitting low in his chair, with a glass of blood in his hand, while he presumably watched something on the computer screen. Though he didn't seem to notice her at first, he soon set the glass down, and repositioned himself, so he was actually sitting like he does in the meetings with the other Primogen, and gave her his attention, even if he didn't know what it was about.
“It isn't a surprise, nor a problem, but that doesn't mean I don't wish to listen.” She sat down in a chair, and he continued. “What is it that you want to know? It isn't likely to be something you've discovered about yourself, and want to know more, or why, is it?”
She shook her head, then looked him dead in the face. “I've been wanting to ask...I know it might be sensitive, or at least something you don't want to talk about, and maybe I should ask him, but...”She trailed off, noticing the surprised, yet understanding look on his face.
“Well, I certainly cannot say that I didn't expect this, but I had some doubts about the reason why you would want to hear the story.” He stood, looking out the open doors behind him, at London's skyline. “When I first became a Vampire, I left things behind that I shouldn't have. My wife, two sisters, and worst of all, my year-old son. My disappearance wasn't in the news, and my family was not going to become poor because of it. They would prosper for some time, as if I had never left. However...” He sighed, then continued. “...as the war began in eastern Europe, the problems began. Even if it was just minor things, like a few attacks by the Sabbat, or other rabble that thinks it has the better idea. That I could handle without effort, as was wanted. Then it touched me. Not physically, but my own estate was attacked. A recently sired Brujah that took it's conflict with the Ventrue far to seriously. As if I had a reason to regard him as any less that he was, as if I treated him like the rabble that his clan is known for. But his feelings did more than fall on the Camarilla's sometimes deaf ears.”
She was puzzled, as she obviously should be. “I know he did something, so what was it?”
Turning around, Makrev sighed. “He attacked my mortal family. For those that were my peers at the time, it was a minimal concern, and my problem to clean up. However, what annoyed me, was the simple fact that I had been keeping tabs on the family, and the moment he'd entered the grounds of my former estate, I was alerted to the fact. Obviously, I had nothing to suggest that he was going to do anything, but it wasn't something I could leave alone. The time it took to arrive at the estate myself was a matter of minutes, but that was all he needed.”
Liz looked away, the signs of understanding all over her face. “The sight must've been difficult.”
Nodding, Makrev continued. “Yes, but it wasn't entirely foregone. I found him in the man hall, staring down my now teenage son. The fear present in his eyes was enough that the tears were beginning to well, as he knew what stood before him was going to show him something that he had yet to see, aside from the blood-stained floors, and the dead bodies of his family.” His mouth shrunk to a smirk. “The Brujah was easily dealt with, but that wasn't the difficult choice I had to make. That was a choice I had made a few times over, and one whose course did not need the other Primogen or the Prince to deliver.” He sighed. “As much as I wanted to show remorse for the family I had lost twice over, I found myself unable. The only thing I could do, was decide on the fate that my son was to endure.”
She looked up at him as if he'd just said something far worse. “So...Kami is...your...?”
He nodded. “Yes, in both senses of the word. You might say that I could have, and should have chosen to leave him human, let him grow old and die as he rightfully should. But I didn't think it was mine to chose. All I said to him before leaving the mansion, was the question of what he wanted to do. Something that others would've never considered.” He covered his eyes with his hand, but then removed it. “He didn't say a thing, He just put his arms around my neck, and allowed me to carry him out of the mansion, falling asleep as I walked. Even in my cold embrace, he felt safe.”
Letting out a big sigh, he continued. “When I arrived at Darrien's home, he barely had me say a damn word. Beyond my explanation of what had happened, I never really asked him to embrace my own son. All he did was go back to his book, nodding at me when I laid Dorian's sleeping form the nearby sofa, and mentally fought myself. I hated that it seemed so easy, that my simplistic wish to hold on to the son I had left behind, and no one was contesting me. Even Alice, who was present at the time, didn't say a word to me, until I finished with him. Nothing she said was condescending, since Shokosu is a similar example, even if he is less so than my own.”
Liz's face was marked with two crimson lines. Wiping them away with a silken cloth, she sighed, recomposing herself.. “But you don't regret it, do you?”
Makrev stood, walking around his desk, to stand directly before her. Kneeling, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “I regret it just as much as I regret you. Meaning, none at all. As much as I could spend the rest of my existence wishing that I had not made these choices, it would not help. I am not, and will not wallow in sorrow.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Thu Mar 22, 2012 9:00 pm; edited 2 times in total
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Sun Mar 11, 2012 3:25 pm|| |
Chapter IX – Eye of Truth
The scene that played out as Makrev, Elizabeth and Kami entered Darrien's office was comical, to say the least. Alice and Shokosu sat quite peacefully on a sofa, simply watching. A few other Vampires did the same, though some of them where whispering, either to their own fledgling, or to another Primogen. Without surprise, it was Morgana that stood before Darrien's desk, yelling at him like she was his mother.
“Do you have any idea what she is? What she does? If you don't, forgive me for not caring why you've allowed her to enter the city, much less your own building. Explain yourself, now.”
Darrien smiled, but then his look turned sour. “Have you forgotten your place? You understand that I serve this city as Prince, and you serve your clan in this city as a Primogen, and Regent. If you do not understand, then once again, I feel there is a need to question your judgment.”
She looked livid. “My...MY judgment? What about yours? Letting that soul-sucker this close to you, and all of us?”
Behind the desk, the three windows behind Darrien's desk were illuminated by a flash of lightning. The Vampire watched the group with interest, even though she remained silent. Dressed in clothing that was a cross between Victorian and that of a modern day goth, she smiled. Flicking the hair out of her face, a long, scar-like slit on her forehead became quite obvious – even more so when this 'slit' opened slightly, revealing a glowing blue eye.
“I asked her to enter the safety of my haven, for a number of reasons. The first, would be my curiosity. I wished to know the truth of her abilities, as I wasn't thoroughly convinced that she was indeed what the Tremere say of her clan, which seem to be nothing but slanderous lies, spread to give legitimacy to the Tremere's existence. Upon a simple demonstration of her power on one of my ghouls, along with a few other tests, I gained the understanding that is not predicated on a lie, but on a fact.” He sighed. “As for the last reason, she knows quite a lot about the issue that has been so pervasive in the last few months. Not that it is one of the most taxing to deal with – as most of you do not care. But it is the source of a broken law, and punishment must be delivered.”
Morgana sighed. Her unwillingness to trust the Salubri was evident. “If she has information, you should tie her down and either threaten her with a stake, or the barrel of a flamethrower to obtain it.”
Darrien stood from his desk, and moved, pinning Morgana to a wall. His voice deepened. “While she remains within the safety of my haven, I will have no threats made to her. In fact, until I see evidence to the contrary, should any Vampire loyal to the Camarilla, Tremere or no, make so much as a threat of final death to her, I shall make it known that there is a hunt for their blood. Even if the person who made the threat is a Primogen.” He threw Morgana to the ground, raising his hands. “Would anyone else like to contest my decision?”
Makrev made his way to the sofa opposite Alice, and took a seat, prompting his two childer to do the same. “I'll be glad to listen. I'd assume that she is willing to speak?”
Darrien waved Katrina over, and she took a seat atop the desk. She crossed her legs, and smiled. “I've already discussed what I want in return for my information, and I just want to assure those with a high level of influence here, that it is nothing of consequence to any of you.” She took a cigarette from her cleavage, and a lighter from a pocket. Putting the smoke in her mouth, she quickly lit the end, and replaced the lighter. “As it seems, the pressing issue in this city is the embrace of the young blue-blood over here.” She both looked and pointed at Liz. “I believe we already know exactly how she was embraced, so the question is being constantly asked, along with others that are demanding, is who did it.”
Makrev stood. “Am I correct in assuming you do know?”
Katrina nodded. “Yes. As I understand it, a prevailing fact is that one of your ghouls were involved. However, he did not act alone, and the person involved has some standing in this city, at least with those of her own clan.” She stuck a hand in her other pocket, and pulled out a photograph. “This is Kamena. The local 'Priestess' for the Follower clan, or so it goes. I don't much care for their traditions. She was involved with Liz's embrace, both the planing of it, and the action behind it. I doubt Liz was specifically picked, but I can't say for sure.”
Morgana sighed. “How exactly do you know all of this?”
The look on Katrina's face was very much like that of an accused child's. “Since World War Two, I've been rigorously studying human medicine. I first came here in thirty-nine, posing as a Toreador. I've been able to keep that guise for some time, though about ten years ago, I came across Kamena, along with her den of snakes. At that point, I owed her nothing,-”Morgana moved to speak, but Darrien gave her a look, which made her keep quiet. “-but she found my obsession with Medicine, and thus found a way to make me owe her something.”
“What exactly is it that you owe her?” Makrev asked, siting up.
Taking the cigarette from her mouth, she simply blew on the end, causing it to go out. Waving it a bit, she threw it into the bin beside the desk. “I was trying to find a no-nonsense cure for a number of ailments, mostly STDs, among others. Most of what I could learn, was that these were very close to un-cureable, since they usually destroy the functionality of an organ, or make an infected person be nothing but a carrier for the disease, while they are effected by the symptoms themselves. Any fluid contact, be it sexual or otherwise, and now the partner has it, or at least might get it. Never-mind pregnancy.” She sighed. “My problem, isn't that I could find no cure. With time, I could, but any Kindred could likely see a significant problem, should I ever do so.”
“This might just be nothing more than a guess, but you'd have to be careful when announcing the cure, so there is no sensitive information that gets leaked along with it? Liz said, drawing a few looks.
Katrina nodded. “Yes, but it doesn't stop there.” She pulled a glass vial from her purse. It was filled with a blue liquid, which seemed to glow slightly.
Darrien raised an eyebrow. “What exactly is that?”
“In some ways, it is a cure for blood-related diseases. It takes a few carefully administered doses to fully cure them, but even with one dose, it severely diminishes the symptoms for a few days. The one it seems to easily cure, with at least five doses, is leukemia. With a few test subjects, they were fully cured of the disease, though one of them did seem to relapse within a week, and died. Why, I cannot say, but I think there was some other cause involved. Some other illness that I, at least, was unaware of.”
Morgana sighed. “With all that, you did not answer the question that you were asked.”
Katrina smiled. “You are right. Though you should realize that your blood means nothing to me. Least of all, does it scare me.“ She looked back at Makrev. “What I owe her, is money. Far more than I could ever hope to pay her back. Should this cure go public, I would likely be able to sign it off to the pharmaceutical company that would treat it as I would, and get a ridiculous payoff because of that. But since Kamena isn't stupid, she would likely find some way to weasel what I owe her, along with what most call 'interest' these days. Though I highly doubt that the money is her real concern.”
“So what you are asking us is to either protect you, or pay off your debts? Likely because you are worried about her killing you.” Morgana said, her words still fuming.
Darrien smiled. “Are you not aware of how the Setites play this game? If they get someone indebted to them, what is the point in killing them? Something they revel in is making people suffer. Perhaps is isn't the best example, but it hardly matters. With what she has already said, it might even be an easy job to find where her temple is located.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Sun Jul 22, 2012 12:35 am; edited 1 time in total
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Tue Jul 17, 2012 3:47 am|| |
Chapter X – How Mighty Ones Fall...
“You have to be joking.” Elizabeth sighed as she took in the sight of what they had found out to be Ishizu's haven. Makrev didn't seem to think it was unusual, but she couldn't think of it as anything but.
The outside of the building didn't look as gaudy as would be expected. In some ways, it seemed more like a Christian establishment, only the stained glass didn't look like biblical figures, and the theme wasn't at all fitting. This aside, it looked almost like a high-class restaurant, although the sorts of people that entered and exited the place were of varying sorts, from men in business suits, women in fine dresses, to some that wore clothing that seemed a century or two out of date, these being the Vampires, which even Makrev wondered if they were enjoying the company of the business, or if they were working for the Setities, either directly, or indirectly.
“It isn't a surprise. You do understand that the Setites prefer the seedier side of life, or un-life, and as such, a brothel is the perfect thing. Not only do they have ghouled humans working for them, but they have the ability to feed on both their working girls, and the customers that pay to-” He cleared his throat, but still smiled deviously at what he was about to say.”-request their 'services'. Not to mention that they have the perfect fence to sell drugs, feed on humans, and the ability to avoid possibility of arrest, or seizure of the goods. All under the guise of a legitimate business. Not that I have a need nor want to consider that a problem.”
Liz snorted. “Surprised it isn't a theater.”
Makrev shook his head. “No, that one was cleared out a few years ago, rather surprisingly too. Even though the priestess there wasn't as, outgoing, as Kamena, but I don't think myself or any other took serious notice when the theater was emptied out. I forget exactly where it was, but it isn't a concern anymore.”
Staring up at the place, she found herself rather confused. Even she had the mind to visit the place as a customer, half of her was keen on the idea, and the other was scoffing at the thought. It might be useless, but the physical satisfaction wouldn't be what she'd take from the experience, mostly because she'd have to fake it, though the feelings might be the same if done right. But these thoughts paled in comparison to another, one that dredged up fear in seconds. Would she have to fight other Vampires to get at the goal, or would it just be a few ghouls to contend with? The problem wasn't killing – it was the fact that she didn't know what she'd have to kill.
Getting in was about as easy as walking. At this point, nothing about it was at all suspicious, beyond one simple thing. The entire place was Egyptian themed, down to most of the girls wearing black or white silken loincloths and bras, and the males wore something similar. The walls were the sort one would expect in a Temple, and even the windows were stained glass, showing images of what Liz guessed was Set, but most other expectant characters from the related mythology were absent. At least, aside from the few that depicted Seth feeding on a man who she assumed to be Osiris, though these were oil paintings. The only thing that said that the place was a modern day establishment, was the few patrons that stuck out like bleeding digits, the numerous cell phones being used or simply present, along with the computer that sat on the receptionist's desk.
A bit of quick talking on Makrev's part got them a secluded table, along with two girls that eagerly wanted to be fed upon. Both of them were not ghouls, which was to Liz' satisfaction. Given her knowledge of blood-bonds, she would not want to be bound to some Setite that she's never met, even more if it was Kamena. Never mind anyone else.
Oddly enough, as much as the girl was fawning over her, Liz was more intrigued than anything else. Makrev wasted no time, and Liz really didn't want to either. She didn't take any time looking at the girl's face either. It was no more than a blur in her blood-lust daze, and the sight of it would only feel worse later. Of note, though, was the scent of her perfume, along with the taste of her blood, which was littered with various sorts of alcoholic drinks, which explained her stupor, along with her general unwillingness to care when Liz licked the side of her neck, savoring the fleeting taste of her flesh, before taking a generous sample of her blood. The drugs aside, the blood was still appetizing, and quite pleasing. She half expected it to be like the last time, where she'd drank some blood from a guy at one of the parties, and she found herself in the bathroom coughing the blood back up. It was an unenviable experience, to be sure, though many Ventrue present at the party were more inclined to shoot bad looks at the guy she'd fed from, while he was almost dragged screaming out of the room. She didn't ask what happened to him, and really, she didn't care. He could be dead for all she knew, and she wasn't going to waste blood crying. The girl wasn't dead or near it when she pulled away, but she was passed out on the bench next to her.
“So, how exactly do we see the owner of this place, without turning this into a complete shit-storm?”
Makrev simply smiled. “If it does, I have a few guys outside to defuse the situation, namely of the police decided to show up, if only to be useless, and but into a matter that does not concern them. As for what you asked, we stir it.”
He stood, looking around. Spotting the guard standing next to a large door, which looked very much like the sort in an actually Egyptian temple, he pulled his pistol from his jacket. With this, only a few noticed, and started to run. The guard didn't notice, at least, not until he felt the bullet hit him square in the eyes, and by that point, it was too late. Given that he simply dropped to the floor, he was only human. Perhaps a ghoul, but even in Liz's eyes, a foolish choice for a bodyguard.
After the shot, most of the patrons started running for the doors. Some of the staff did as well, which was rather fitting, since Liz could tell that they weren't ghouls, nor Vampires. The others, the Vampires that were dressed in the Egyptian clothing, all pulled swords, knives or daggers, and ran for Makrev. All he did was briefly look at Liz and smirk. “Bloody fools. What do they think I am, a fledgling rebel without a fucking cause?” He pulled a second pistol from his jacket, then smiled so wide he could've been mistaken for a Malkavian.
Of the four, only one of the Followers managed to actually wound Makrev. As for the rest, two were taken out in a hail of bullets, while the last simply placed a hand on his chest, pushing his fingers into his skin, until he had a hold of something. Once he pulled it out, the thing in his hand was his own heart. The man looked at Makrev in horror, then crushed it, which caused him to not only fall to the ground, but burn to embers upon doing so.
The last one had a stake in his hand, and he had stuck Makrev in the chest, but he hit the wrong side. Makrev once again smiled in a way that was worthy of a Malkavian, before he grabbed the kindred's neck. The look on his face was a mixture of insane and an animalistic grin that she'd knew to be uncharacteristic of a Ventrue, but he made it all the same. Rather than biting, it he snarled, then moved his fingers, causing an audible 'crack'. Upon dropping the body, it burst into embers, and he smiled once again.
“Child's play. Though how empty this place is, it should be a bit easier to see the boss. Come on.”
Finding the office wasn't a problem, though Liz was still worried. She stopped Makrev before he opened the door. “Hey...I...well, I don't know if I...”
His look was puzzled. “What's wrong?”
She sighed, almost wanting to sink to the ground. “Not really, It's just that I'm....well...a little worried.”
He smirked. “Ah, I see.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently kissed her cheek. “Do you think I mean to get you killed? Not at all. I might be a Ventrue, who you know by now are notorious for having pawns, but you are not one of mine. You are my childe, and thus, I would not waste you on anything. I don't care if I didn't personally select you for the embrace, I still wouldn't think that you are any less that Kami. He might be of my blood twice over, but that does not mean you are any less in my eyes. No matter what lies beyond this door, you won't be dealing with it alone.”
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Sun Jul 22, 2012 1:15 am|| |
Chapter XI - ...Not like you expect
Rather than laying eyes upon Ishizu standing before them, the sight that Makrev and Liz witnessed was a Vampire, holding her in a loving embrace – his head laying against her neck. The sounds coming from the Vampire made it obvious that he was drinking her blood, which caused Makrev's look to turn sour. The Kindred released the woman's neck, he smiled at the two, his lips dripping with blood. Upon standing, his clothing became much more apparent. Dressed in a leather bodysuit, with a number of white designs, along with a ankle-length jacket, and tall boots. His hair was crimson red, and his skin the color of a espresso, yet still pale. He stared at them with piercing red eyes, which looked interested. Just above these eyes, sticking out from his hair, a set of sharp, shiny black horns jutted out from his skull.
“Who exactly are you?” Makrev demanded to know.
The Vampire smiled, lovingly laying the woman's body on the ground. A stake pierced her heart, her dress was torn in various places, various wounds marked her body, the worst being a large gash out of her face, and the look in her frozen eyes was of pure terror. “I will explain, but please, I must finish my work.” He turned back to her, drawing a large sword from his waist, it's curved blade almost singing as it left the sheath. He made a single motion, and the blade sang an ominous song, as it severed Ishizu's neck. Her body exploded into embers, and he sheathed the sword.
“I will ask one more time. Who are you?” Makrev gently rubbed the butt of his pistol.
Turing, the Vampire smiled again. “Impatient, aren't you, Primogen? Then again, being one whose blood runs blue, it can be expected, and forgiven, at least in your case.” He watched the subtle look of shock on Makrev's face, and he laughed. “Do you really think that the information would be, obfuscated to any Vampire outside the Camarilla? Of course not, since both the local Prince, and the Nosferatu, where happy to mention that fact. But that isn't what you want to know. What you seek, is, a name.” He bowed slightly, cross his right hand over his chest.. “I am Nemu, an assassin. I find Kindred who want other Kindred, and sometimes other species, to face their final death. I simply make their wish come true. Perhaps you could call me an embodiment of the Jyhad – though I don't like the 'backstabbing' aspect. Though no one has been able to get close enough to be for that to be possible – unless I have let them, which means usually that they are either about to die, or one that I am quite friendly with. That, and I haven't pissed anyone off. At least, no one that can still raise a blade, or their eyes at me.”
“That would mean that...Ishizu was your...target, I guess?” Liz asked, only somewhat nervously.
Nemu nodded. “Yes. With my arrival in England, and more importantly London, I sought out the Prince, knowing the protocol of a Camarilla controlled city, given that I am Kindred. During my meeting with Darrien, he mentioned your little, issue, Makrev. I said that I would be more than willing to track the offenders down, for a price.”
Makrev snarled, not convinced. “I have to doubt that for now, as a Tzimisce like you would never work for the Camarilla.”
Liz blinked. “Tzimisce? That's another clan of Kindred, right?”
Nemu nodded, answering her question. “Yes. Most of the clan favor the Sabbat, or their own purposes. Many hate the Camarilla, being in the Sabbat, and the idea that any of the clan would work with or for them, is absurd, even if there are those who do, some of them being quite loyal. But my purpose is not slaving myself out to any group. If I do work for someone other than myself, it is work of my choosing – not the other way around.” He smirked. “If someone needs me to kill, and they can offer something in return, I will happily oblige them. A prince, or anyone else, that tells me to fetch – purely because they believe that their position, age, or whatever else entitles them, only gets a simple response – 'fuck you'. What can they do, namely when they have little to no proving grounds to suggest that I am a threat to any of their interests?”
“As legitimate as that sounds, how do I know that you haven't just added us to your list of targets?” Makrev asked.
“You weren't listening. If I kill you and your childe, what would I gain? Perhaps your powers, if I diablerised you, but then, I would simply have raging Kindred on my shapely ass, along with a hunt for my blood. So, if anything, my chosen course here is not to kill, but assist you. I've never cared much for the mistrust, deception, and lies that go along with having different favors of blood, so the fact that yours is blue, matters little to me.”
Makrev sighed. “Fine, then. I'll trust you for now. Can you at least tell me why you killed Ishizu?”
Nemu nodded. “I've been looking for her, since the start of the Cold War. About twenty years ago, I found her acting as the Sheriff for New York's Prince. I can't say what her plans where, but I foiled them, once I presented evidence to the Prince about her past. Once that was done, I found that she had left New York. I chased her across the country, before I found need to follow her across the Atlantic, here. I would've acted sooner, but that wasn't possible. I only arrived after the start of the new year, and with all that bullshit in the city during the first days of it, I had to deal with a few things before I could leave New York.”
“Why not?” Liz asked, curiously.
“It is due to how pestilent Ishizu is, and the fact that I was unaware of the large presence of this clan in the city, even if it pales in comparison to those of the Camarilla. However, the local clan, 'Priestess', Kamena, gave her the sort of protection I could not penetrate – the local pit they use for their 'grandiose' temple. It seems that Kamena has the sort of territorial issues that I do not.” Nemu sighed. “However, as you might know already. It is Kamena that had you sired, Elizabeth.”
“So it is her that faces the Camarilla's judgment. Simple and clean.” Makrev crossed his arms.
“You think so, do you? Well, then I see you don't lack confidence. But that only means you are, if nothing else, cocky. Interesting, but not beneficial in this case.” He reached a hand into his pocket, taking out a thin cigar. Lighting it with a silver lighter, he blew smoke from his mouth. “You've already dealt with the one who betrayed you – the one who took your blood straight to Kamena, rather than using it himself. Ishizu has also been dealt with, a rather satisfactory outcome for me, which also means my deal with Darrien is finished, at least concerning one of the snakes. However, Kamena does remain, and she isn't one to present herself as Ishizu did. She made the mistake of using this brothel as a haven, so even one who knew she was under the Priestess' protection, would not know to look here.”
“So how would we...confront her, I guess?” Liz asked.
Nemu smiled. “She is, one for theatrics. She loves to set a scene. However, as she wants, which Ishizu gratefully revealed to me, that what Kamena wants is quite simple.” He took a knife from the side of his leg, and thew it at a map on the wall. “You know this location, do you not?”
Makrev sighed – he knew the building was the office complex that Darrien owned. “So she wants...Darrien?”
Nemu shook his head, the smile still on his face. “No, she wants the thing that Darrien commands. She knows that, with Darrien's death, she can dissolve the ranks of the Camarilla in this city, and claim it for her clan – similar how the Giovanni might hold cities in Italy. Though as far as I am aware, this would be the first time the Snakes hold a city – though I could suggest that they have done so before, though it would naturally be Cairo, but I cannot say for sure. Either way, I'm sure that this outcome is one that many Vampires in this city would fight against. Perhaps even the Anarchs here would side with the Camarilla, against the Followers. But then, I have known little of them, and thus I am unsure of even that. Despite how keen on rebellion America might be, I saw almost none of them in New York.”
Makrev sighed. “So I take it that you have an interest in assisting us? What exactly did Darrien promise in return for Kamena's death?”
Nemu leaned against the desk, blowing smoke from his mouth. “Nothing more than what I usually request. Usually blood, and I mean that quite literally. I do not diablerize, since I have seen the consequences of that, even on those who have not been punished by the Camarilla for it. I have been known to take currency or other things as well, given the sort of world we persist in.” Blowing on the end of his cigar, he threw it into the nearby bin. “But I have a request to make of you, Primogen. Darrien might've offered, but I prefer to be rather closer to my work.”
Liz smiled. “You want to stay at our estate? I'd have no problem with that, since I'd love to learn from you.”
Nemu smiled, but Makrev frowned. “You ask to enjoy the safety of my Haven? Why? Don't you need to sleep in dirt anyway? I have little interest in allowing such a thing, given what I'd have to organize for it to be feasible.”
Laughing Nemu shook his head. “My skin needs no earth to sleep. Perhaps a fluke, but I have little care for sleeping in such a thing, and I have never done so. Not to mention, the cost of getting such a thing from anywhere isn't likely to be cheap, although my own 'homeland' as many call, it is not so far away.” He lightly tapped his foot on the floor. “My accent may have dulled since my embrace, but I still call the Isles home. Even in death, even if it would break the masque, I would still save the queen, since I have some doubts as to God thinking exactly as we do - if I were in a position that called for it.”
Liz looked somewhat shocked. “Really? Small world.”
With yet another sigh, Makrev nodded. “Fine then. I do hope that you do know how to act civil, although up to this point, I would expect nothing but that from you.”
With a slight nod, Nemu smiled. “Indeed. I have no intent on becoming a pox on your house, and I would not intentionally do something to cause either you, or any other of it, aggravation.”
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Thu Oct 04, 2012 3:40 am|| |
Chapter XII – Blue Blood
“This is quite funny. You...I mean, we don't seem the type to lounge in a place like this.”
This time, Makrev dragged her out of the mansion, though it wasn't for any specific purpose. Add to that the fact that he'd drove to a expensive looking bar in the middle of downtown London, and she found herself thoroughly confused.
“You aren't entirely wrong, but since I've owned the place since the fifties, I, at least, would not see it right to not visit on occasion. Not to mention the fact that, without paying much heed to the irritating clan bullshit, I've understood something for quite awhile, which I have yet to see my peers exhibit. They might call me naive, but in some ways, such a name could apply to them as well, since many Elders outright refuse to acclimate to the new century, if not being physically or mentally incapable.” Setting his drink down, he smiled.
“Many have the belief that because we, at our core, are dead, we must act like it. However, I tend to think that, just because we are dead, it does not mean we cannot live. Once again, the mortal coil is not wrapped around us, we are bereft of many things that kill humans, and most of all, the beast is not exactly the curse that many say it is. Yes, it is a struggle to live with it, but it can be done.”
Liz had nothing but a smirk on her face. “So your saying that even though I died, I have to try and live? How does that even make any sense?”
Makrev snorted. “I don't mean like you did before. I mean, that you can enjoy life, without worrying so damn much about the pitfalls. It is too bad that most Kindred see pleasure only in blood, the few that understand and perhaps even crave more, human pleasures being a minority in any Kindred society – some even shunning it completely because they believe it to be pointless. But don't get me wrong. Kindred cannot escape the craving, the want. However, it is possible to crave other things. Take my sire, for example. She had a liking for things that many frowned upon, and some frequently made comments about her existing in the wrong century, given that her behavior and tastes was more suitable to ancient Greece, than the more 'civilized' London of the time. Never mind that any who said that might have tastes just as vile as they would consider hers. I cared about none of it.”
Liz set the glass down, exhaling loudly. While her taste was more to wine and similar spirits, the bar only served more common drinks, as might be expected. Even as the quality wasn't suspect, it just wasn't her preferred taste. “Why were you embraced, anyway? I mean, not to suggest anything, I just find myself curious.”
With a sigh, he set the glass bottle down. “I made a mistake. Not relating to the Masquerade, or Kindred, but to my business practices. I had at least two companies under my ownership at the time, and they had a profit margin that would make the average worker faint. I had no idea that I was being watched, but I was.” He drank from the bottle again, this time staring at the label as he continued. “I had my eye on a small company. It was doing well, and from my perspective, under my ownership it would do even better. I made a bid for it, and within a week, it was mine. However, then I received a phone call.”
Liz almost hung on the edge of her seat, though she adjusted herself – although this did little to change the fact that each breeze would blow her skirt up. When this happened, she barely seemed to give a damn. “What was it about?”
“I was told that the owner wanted to speak with me. Two days later, I arrived at the agreed upon meeting place. My expectation was that the owner wanted to either speak with me about the deal, or perhaps understand my reasons for buying the company. But every single one of them were shattered, when I found myself standing in an elegant sitting room, littered with candles. Two bodyguards flanked the door I'd used to enter the room, and I noticed they were both pale as a sheet. Then I stared at the jacuzzi, watching as a woman with a body like an angel remove herself from it, drape herself with a silken robe, and lay herself out on a sofa like roman lord. I half expected to have someone with a bowl of grapes rush to her side. But that wasn't at all what it was about. The teenage boy that did run to her side, laid himself out on her chest, and went limp as she bit into his neck. I noticed his arms, which were almost covered with bite marks, some of them healing, others looking only hours old.”
Setting the empty bottle down, he sighed. “She first asked about the deal, many of her words being said through blood soaked lips, before she finally licked them clean. Once that was out of the way, she mentioned having a proposition for me. The catch was, I would have to agree to it, before she would even begin to inform me of the details. However, I was already trapped, as you understand. It was chose to accept, or I would never be seen again, and my own holdings would fall into her hands.”
“So you basically had no choice? Isn't that...against the rules?” Liz asked, rather puzzled.
“Not exactly. Although it is true that any Vampire within the Camarilla that wishes to embrace needs to consult the city's Prince for permission, you do not explicitly need to have your soon-to-be fledgling agree with you. It matters very little, since as you are aware, she could've just done it against my will, or dominated me to say yes, or sign the agreements to hand of everything to her, alongside embracing me – although she wasn't one to keep things around that didn't want to be there. But I said yes, still.” Setting his glass down, he sighed.
The memory was as clear as ever. She didn't even blink as she waved him over, her fingers moving in a way that no man could refuse – least of all, him. Everything about her was entrancing, and this was without her using any of her powers. The sight alone was enough, which he had to admit, was a factor in his choice. But as he found himself wrapped in her arms, only then did he feel that he had made a mistake. Feeling the sharp stab of her fangs into his neck, it was instant, but quickly turned from blinding pain, to the sort of pleasure that usually took a loose woman to satisfy. If she indeed was, at that point, he would and could not complain.
Most of the details were only revealed to him later, although it was only a an hour later when he woke up, and the burn in his throat was too hard to ignore. She sat in the same chair as before, still clothed only in that silk robe, and he still had on his suit, but his shirt was undone, though it was just as clean as ever. Staring at her, he barely had say anything, since it was obvious to him that his craving was in need of satisfaction.
Without so much as a word, actually nothing more than a nod to one of the guards at the door, one of them was opened, and a scantily-clad woman entered, striding between the two, waiting for something. What, he didn't know, but a thought in the back of his head, was screaming at him. The pulse of her veins, the look of life within her skin, unlike the beauty that bit him, entranced him in an entirely different way.
“My name, although I should have informed of you of it before, is Cassandra. But the more important thing, fledgling, is your need to feed.” She pointed at the model that stood before him, her stance like she was waiting for a curtain to drop.
He wanted to pounce on her, although the idea of doing that seemed redundant. Even as he stood, she barely moved, aside from staring at him. If she knew what he intended on doing, he didn't know nor care. But still, when he first touched her, the warmth, the draw of life, and the smell. The hint in the air of her blood, even through the skin it drew him to it more than a wino to another bottle.
“Will you please quit the theatrics? We all understand what this is. We know you don't, but wouldn't you rather drink your fill of her, rather than staring her down until the bloody sun rises?”
Taking her into his arms, the feeling was not entirely familiar, but inviting. Licking her neck, he could almost taste it. The flow, the scent, all of it drew him in, and he could not do so much as let go. The pull would not let him, and he could find no reason to disagree with it.
Opening his mouth, he bit down, feeling his teeth piercing her soft skin. Then it hit him. He felt her blood pool in his mouth, and he eagerly swallowed. As he did, the yelling voice in the back of his head seemed to calm down, as did he. But the taste was nothing like the smell. The only thing he could really equate it to was the night's he'd spend in less than reputable places, but in this case, there was no fallout. Just pleasure beyond what touch can provide.
He realized only when he let go of her, that she was moaning, almost as if she was no more than a whore, and it was no more than the usual arrangement with one. Sitting her down, he looked back at Cassandra.
“I'm actually impressed, Makrev. The last one I tried hated this,and you seem to take to it like a baby to a nipple. Very good.” Seeing the look on his face, she shook her head. “No, he got himself killed. Either way, I have a purpose for you, and it deals with more than just this. I will teach you all you need to know about my job, who I work for, and the parts of this world you do not know about yet.”
Shaking his head, Makrev sighed. “I hate explaining all that. Makes it seems rather cheap, but then, most I've heard, their story is never simple. Doesn't matter if it was a mere mistake, there is always some reason behind what was done, even if most do not believe it.”
With a laugh, Liz sighed. “Yeah, I'm sure. But were is Cassandra now?”
“Well, I don't really know. The last I heard she decided to travel a bit when I took the title of Primogen, and hasn't really been back since. The last time I saw her was in the 70s, and I have to say, I hated that bloody decade. Dealing with America's stylings was taxing, and though it was more to do with the fact that...er, not worth it.” He nodded at the bar tender, and was rather promptly brought another beer. “Pity that I'll have to deal with this later. Bloody facade.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Mon Nov 04, 2013 8:40 pm; edited 1 time in total
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Sat Oct 06, 2012 5:52 am|| |
Chapter XIII – Truth from the Interior
“While some would not want to admit it, given their arrogant idealism, I have no such reservations. Kamena is not at all a new type of individual, rather she is of a sort that has existed since the time of Caine himself. The reason she exists in the first place, is due to the unfortunate culling of the clan in this city, which caused the remains to splinter off, not wanting to unite under one banner, which would once again make them a target for anyone willing to attack them, Camarilla or no.”
Nemu sighed as he set down his glass, turning his stare back to Liz, who sat in a chair opposite the sofa he sat on, the glass table between then having a glass of blood for each of them, a filled bottle of blood, which previously held wine, causing the taste to have a slight air of it, even though the bottle was likely cleaned thoroughly. A book sat next to Nemu's glass, bound in leather, the cover having an elegant red script, the single phrase written in what Liz assumed to be Latin. As curious as she found herself, she wasn't going to ask.
“I have to agree. She does not sound like a new breed, but rather like one that has been over-bread to the point of saturation, though I doubt she will be the last, when disposed of. Although, I do wonder exactly why she chose this path to walk. Why not take the route of the others?” Liz picked up her glass, swiveling the sanguine spirit before tipping it to her lips. Unlike wine, she wasn't trying to taste, and thus she drank deep, enjoying the taste, the feeling, and the raging fire that was both quelled and lit with it.
Nemu smiled. “Her ego is such that it would not allow existence, within the confines of this room. For her, there is no greater mandate than the notion that she would take power within the city, a goal that most of her kin hath long since abandoned. Beyond the one in which has her, and the rest of her clan, serving the lord of darkness itself, Set. As it obvious, though perhaps not to you, yet, is that rather than the god they believe him to be, Set is their clan founder. Much about him is something of a mystery, even to those who might know far more than I. But Kamena's reasons are mostly...knee-jerk reactions to events that have happened since her embrace, namely the fact that her sire, a woman she admired, was killed by the Camarilla.”
Liz shifted in her seat. “What about her goal?”
“Her...goal? It is no more than what I've said. But no Kindred ever makes such a goal, without more waiting to happen, once it is accomplished. She may wish to control the city, but that will not be it. She will want more, be it another city, or perhaps she believes that it is a stepping stone to a larger goal, a way to take something no-one else has. An entire country, perhaps? But I doubt that she will get that far. If not the legions of the Camarilla, the shadows of the black hand would squash her like the beetle she is.”
Liz blinked. “The...black hand? What?”
Nemu sighed once again. “I keep forgetting. But I did speak of them before, although not in the detail you wish. However, the Sabbat are, to put it simply, monsters. Their sole wish is to live amongst humans as their masters, without any kind of Masquerade. They have several names, including being called 'The Sword Of Caine'. Which goes along with the fact that they believe in Caine and hate his childer, and it is ironic, in that they would like nothing more than to diablerize or destroy them, rather than fight for or with them. Never mind that many of Caine's childer are damn near impossible to kill – which is one of the many reasons that a few of them have been taken out while in torpor, though most of these instances have been for others to create their own clans, or given their new clan 'legitimacy', or so it would be called. If there are any of that crop who faced their death otherwise, not many would know it.”
“All I would like to know is why in the hell that she seems like such a stuck up bitch.” Liz nearly yelled, then sighed. “Bloody rash, but still.”
Nemu smirked. “It is quite simple. She has yet to lose that fledgling arrogance. Perhaps she has some standing, and is indeed an elder of her clan at this point, but she still fails to understand that such a wish, such a goal is not going to do any favors for her.” He picked up his glass, taking a sip. “I spoke with a few Setites around the city. At least, those who weren't allied with her. Their opinion was similar to your own, and their description was quite, colorful. As was their description of me, since my looks are highly prized within the clan. One, a vixen to my eyes, even mentioned that she wishes I was still human. A pity, but best not to dwell on it.” Setting his glass back down, he laid back, stretching his arms out on the back of the sofa.
With a sigh, Liz finished her drink, setting the empty glass back on the table. “Enough about her. Truthfully, if it was possible to not deal with her, I would rather not hear anymore about her. You, however...”
Nemu looked rather shocked. “Me? Well, I understand, given that I am not entirely what most Kindred expect of me. If not just the fact that I abhor the Sabbat, that I don't see problem with the Camarilla, it is the fact that I understand something most of my clan do not. I do not seek perfection, nor do I believe myself to be it. I look fine already, and I have no need to think I should appear alien, even to Kindred.
Sacha's remark was not so dissimilar to my opinion, but he still preferred the clan's to mine.”
With a nod, Liz looked disdainfully at her glass, then sighed. “So your clan...can change things about living...things? Like what?”
He couldn't help but flash a devious smile. “Have some problem you want fixed? Believe me, what I could offer would be somewhat safer than what a Tremere would, since it might be better to just get over it, if you would seek their help. However, the power deals a bit more with making creatures from others, along with making these creatures a slave to our will in the process. They could start as humans, ghouls, or Kindred, but in the end, they end up what most would call abominations. Not an incorrect term, although I have seen a few instances, perhaps like myself, and my Sire, where we do not chose a form that is alien to the eyes of most, but one that, while certainly an acquired taste, is not as unusual. But as you can see, I've rarely turned my ability on others, only myself. “
“Ooookay.” She leaned back in her chair, as she briefly thought of that night. “Oh, um...I don't know how to ask this but...”
“You mean to ask why I was embraced? Well, I know that whenever this is asked, the expectation is that we have some disgusting, or perhaps deception-filled tale that is going to be, in the least, off-putting. But mine isn't so.” He shrugged, then leaned forward, placing his hand on the book. “The year isn't important, although it was a few years after the first World War. I...” With a snarl, his hand tensed.
“I didn't mean to pry. If you don't want to...”
Shaking his head, he smiled. “No, that isn't the issue. Six years of bullshit. Say I am emo or whatever the hell that means, but that idealism is as flawed as many others. The problem I had was quite simple.” His look changed into a bit of a frown. “The fact that I...never thought of things as black and white. Meaning, that if I liked something, I liked it. Regardless if they would keep telling me what was for me, and what wasn't.”
“You mean like...you liked guys?” Liz said, saying it as bluntly as she possibly could.
Nemu's face contorted as if he meant to blush. “Well, not exactly. But I wasn't adverse to the idea, if he was cute. But it was the fact that I did. Never-mind that it wasn't a new thing, but like now, it isn't something that was seen as socially acceptable as when one would find some lovely thing to entertain for the night, when the person in question is opposite everything they physically are.”
She shook her head. “No, I understand. My brother was like that too. My parents weren't...entriely pissed about it, but it was hell taking the 'whispers' from the neighbors, and the people around town – which we heard nearly every single one. Hell, they even started with me, since it was 'odd' that I rarely ever brought a guy home, or was never really seen with one.”
“Yes, I see. As much as I'd like to rail about it, I won't. In fact, even taking the opposite idea that they are just human, and cannot understand, it doesn't entirely sound right. But...that really isn't what you asked...” With a sigh, he smiled. “Once again, I must say that the reason I was embraced, was not due to a mistake, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or any other of the classic reasons. My Sire simply chose me, and asked. Although, I say that, but there is the fact that she took a fancy to me, and thus would be the reason she chose me over anyone else. She also said that she was looking for companionship, but it seemed that, even in a few years, she lost interest. Not specifically in me, but in Europe. Her home is the States, where mine is here. You know I have gone there since, but like me, she felt the call of home, and returned. “
With a rather sad look, Liz couldn't help but feel a little down. “Better than mine. Ambushed in a dark alley, left for dead in front of a graveyard, which happened to be the same one where my brother...eh, never mind.” Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes, actually thankful she didn't start crying. “So, if you are open to suggestion, have you...you know?”
Once again, Nemu couldn't help but feel like blushing, despite his inability. “Um...well, as you would imagine, the idea of doing that...I could, but the problem lies in the fact that, as you might understand already, the inevitable course I would have to take. However, the thing that would stop me, is not the idea of embracing, but rather the hassle it could turn into.” With a sigh, he continued. “Although I have done what I must to understand the Camarilla, the only part of their...how should I put this? The only mandate that I don't fully understand, is one you are likely familiar with. But what I fear, is not the idea, nor the prospect of asking. But what I wonder about are how it works in the long run. I understand that it is means for the Prince to have a clear idea as to how many Kindred reside in the city, but what happens when the pair might end up leaving? What is the point then, if even a few Kindred leave? Sure, it's application might only concern those who either intend on staying, or those who make residence for the moment, and find a reason to embrace, but still. Either way, at least for now, I don't have a problem with the way things are. As is obvious, we don't explicitly yearn for connections as humans do, but rather, we crave the indulgences of blood, and little else.”
“Yeah...well, I meant if you are open, how much?”
With a slight, playful snarl, he smiled. Standing, he walked around the table, softly placing his hand on her cheek. “That depends...on you, love.”
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Thu Oct 25, 2012 2:58 pm|| |
Chapter XIV – Keeping them close
With a scoff, Kamena sighed. The entire sight was disgusting, although it was to her liking. Certainly an annoyance of hers, since the cold stone in the night, the sight of the carved stone statues, the symbols of the ideology which she had nothing but hatred for, the irony was the fact that she kept coming back, almost like something called her. But nothing did - her family was long dead, an afterthought in history, if that. They were never the sort to be buried, and nor would she ever be.
Taking a seat on a bench, once again not even wincing as her nearly bare ass touched the cold stone, she looked around again. This time, it was more about the fact that she felt it. That feeling that someone was staring at her, although the concern wasn't her body. It was her, and her alone.
“Show yourself, or I will find and kill you.” She yelled into the night. She half expected some drunk teenager who passed out among the dead, and woke up to spot a beauty among the corpses. If it was, or would ever be this, she would offer him only a brief satisfaction before she killed him. Or her, if that would ever be the case.
“You are certainly welcomed to try, snake. But I know exactly who you are, and it could be said that you know me just as well, Marisha.”
Kamena snarled, her eyes looking livid. “How dare you...how would you even know that name?”
Stepping out from behind one of the mausoleums, Nemu smiled, his eyes and face full of laughter. “Because I know you, just as well as you know me – intimately. That night was hot as the sands you love so much, pity you would never consider leaving London.”
Her face did not change. “I see you have returned here, but it isn't a surprise. Ishizu told me about you, so if you think I was unaware, you play the fool. But that does beg the question of why you let the Camarilla leash you, almost as soon as you return to your home.”
His laughter was insane. “Still, you are just like the rest. I have not been leashed, as even I would tell the Prince to fuck off if he so much as started to try and order me around. Although, I do not think this one would try that, given that he has agreed to speak with the Unicorn that you tried to blackmail.”
“WHAT? He allowed that bitch to...God-dammit.” She sighed.
“Yes, and it seems that this plan of yours is falling apart at the seams, mostly due to that...and the fact that Ishizu...well, let's just say that I have played my role once again, and was successful.” He snorted. “Seems you are running out of pawns, queen.”
“She was...of no consequence. Pawns are just that, you know. Things to sacrifice on the path to your true goal. The king you serve will fall, and my king, will not.” Her frown was replaced by a smirk of her own.
Nemu didn't look surprised. “You mean...Elizabeth’s brother, correct?”
The look of shock on Kamena's face was full of fear. “HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU...YOU ASSHOLE!”
“Ooo, that was harsh. Trying to wake the dead? I'm sure a Giovanni could help with that if you so wished. But yes, I know. As always, I know. After all, with what I do, if I stay informed, my job becomes much easier. As for this, I had no idea I would need to know. But after Liz mentioned him, I looked into it – finding that it goes right back to Katrina's testing of a cure, for Leukemia. The one that supposedly died? Brother of Elizabeth, as I found, once I checked the names.”
The look on her face said she wanted to slaughter him, but she held herself back. “But how did you find out...that I embraced him?”
Nemu nearly keeled over laughing. “In truth, I only had suspicions. But then, I figured, why the hell not? But actually, the reason I know this for sure? YOU JUST TOLD ME!”
The way her face contorted, she was highly embarrassed. “You...I hate you.”
“Like that is a surprise. You said the same thing that night, and then you were wrapped in my arms, wanting me and this body. Now, you sit a few feet away, feeling like a child who as been naughty – even though you are quite decent, at least to my eyes, where to others you would not be.”
“You think I am going to let this stop me? So what if you know. So fucking what, if you decide to run back to that prissy bitch and tell her. I don't care. If she knows now, it might allow my plans to proceed quicker than I expected.”
Nemu shook his head. “No, I don't think so. Although it certainly would be what I would almost have to do, if I were the virtuous hero, but we both know that among Kindred, there are no hero's, and no real villains either, since we all blur the lines. But more to the point, what I wonder, are to what ends you pursue. You know, that even if you take down the Camarilla, it doesn't matter. Someone will contest your throne, perhaps even someone who won't need to lift a finger to deal with you.”
“Why should I make you understand, since all you intend to do, is oppose me, which you have done since that night. I have no compulsion to make you understand, since you won't.”
With a sigh, Nemu shrugged. “But you know, this does go even deeper than that. It's something that, although I do intend on stopping you, I hope you've accounted for it.”
She snarled. “Just what would that be?”
Shaking his head, Nemu smiled. “No, no. If I told you that, I would be spoiling something, and there are those who wouldn't like that, including this little voice in my head, which, even if I am not a lunatic, I still find some of these voices reasonable. It's the same reason that your 'plans' are taking so long, isn't it?”
“Why don't you just go somewhere and die? Perhaps stay here until morning, I don't care.” Standing, she started to walk away, ignoring Nemu's stares. He, as always, was nothing more than a nuisance, and someone who she knew could bring it all down to it's knees, and then to it's death. But she would not allow that.
With a smirk, Nemu turned his head. “I take it that you've heard all that, have you?”
Behind a nearby grave, a young boy walked out, his appearance one that was different from Nemu had remembered, but then, it wasn't exactly him. The clothing was usual, his shirt covering only his torso, leaving his midriff completely exposed. The long jacket and pants were all black leather, and his boots were about knee-height. The face was similar, but the structure was different. His eyes were the same, but his hair was far more tended to, and all black.
“Yes, and it seems you are in quite the situation. Pity I have little to no stake in it.”
Nodding, Nemu took a seat on the same bench that Kamena had previously occupied. “Still feels warm. Anyway, this doll of yours is rather creepy, but then, so am I.”
The doll smiled. “Yes, but it does serve as a useful tool. He is being taken care of, and soon enough, he won't have to deal with my intrusions. But what I wonder, is how you plan on dealing with this one.”
“It really doesn't have that much to do with me. Although I am involved, I don't think I will be really needed where it counts, but I will be there for the fight. If she needs assistance, then I will gladly give it. My only wonder, is how she will take it, finding out that her brother is still alive, though as one of us. I suppose it is a trifle, isn't it?”
The doll nodded. “I would certainly suggest a slight, push. Perhaps taking some time to teach her some things, if you have not done so already. Also, if nothing else, some caution. If I can understand anything, it is the same as you have, where there is much more to this, than that snake's delusions of grandeur. I might have the same, but I went about them in a way that people could appreciate, if not at least accept.”
“Oh, I forgot to ask, how was the nap?” Nemu asked, smiling.
“Annoying. Namely since I had those bloody fools barking the moment I had my first cup after ten years, plus the fact that my two surrogates were getting annoyed with them. It is to my luck that my place as Primogen wasn't contested, but then, I am not likely to be the first to do such a thing.”
Pulling out his phone, Nemu smirked. “You do know that these are a bit more useful, don't you?”
With a smirk, the doll laughed. “Too early. At this point, there is none in those. In a few years, perhaps, it will be an investment I will gladly make. But for now, this serves me very well.” With a bow, the doll walked away, disappearing into the night.
“Little bastard. Has his hands in everything. Though, at times, it helps that he does.” Standing, Nemu had only one thought on his mind, which had nothing to do with Kamena. “Time to put someone on the menu. Maybe two? Perhaps I should find a district that is already bathed in crimson...or a one of rouge, as it were.”
It did occur to him that he still felt something for Liz, but even so, it was as always, fleeting. Just like with Kamena, as much care might be put into it, it all pales in comparison to what was truly wanted, but still, forgetting that was tantamount to what he would consider blasphemy, and in the least, he would endeavor to never do so. There would certainly be others, but like her? Unlikely. They were certainly not meant for each other, but he could hardly claim to believe such nonsense.
Freezing where he stood, he sniffed. The smell was unmistakeable. The same sort that his kind emitted, but filled with...betrayal and sin. Blood that fueled magic, blood that was known for secrecy. Even as young as he was, the smell was well known to him, and the fact that he had an intimate relationship with it, was something he always mentioned, or thought of with pride. After all, that Primogen was a delight, but unfortunately, ugly as sin.
“You know I can smell you, which means I know exactly what you are, Tremere. The only thing I do not, know, is who you are. I'd imagine someone of influence, given that you radiate the smell. So, stop hiding like a pestilent rat.” Nemu looked around, waiting for the briefest hint of movement.
“So I see that you really are not just a neonate with some skill. Then perhaps I can use you, as I had hoped.” The voice was almost sickening, even as it sounded like royalty.
He couldn't help but laugh. “The last time that happened, you stole something. I don't intend on being one accused for being an accessory to such a thing. Of course, that isn't even beginning to mention what else your kind did, which is arguably worse. Ironic that the Camarilla, who the Tremere always seem to support, forbid it.” He shrugged. “But what do I know?”
It wasn't a surprise when she revealed herself. Clad in black armor, and draped in a red robe with a silver trim, even her walk was posh. In her hand was a large staff, which was, in truth, nothing more than a toy, since she really didn't need it. The fact that it seemed to be made of real silver, and other expensive materials, still didn't matter.
“So you do not hate me? That is certainly to your credit. Maybe you would listen to a...proposition of mine?”
His jaw nearly fell off. “You...must be joking. Although it would be nothing new if you wished to...add a title to your resume, I would have to say that for me, I've seen and stopped that before. After all, I did think at one point that you were all about order. But I know now that you are equally about deceit, especially when you can cover it up. But I will say it again, I will not help you, Blood-Witch.”
“I see it is pointless then. Though, you aren't correct about my motivations. I know full well that getting rid of Darrien wouldn't be enough to take his position. But still, I am not that foolish. I know just as well as you do about what happened in New York. Seems Wolfe was sent to Vienna, and Etrius himself dealt with him, though it might've been experiments, rather than final death, I do not know. No, that isn't a fate I would aspire to.” She scoffed.
“What is it that you do want, anyway? That Salubri dead? What for? Can't get over the hatred?” He laughed, knowing it would piss her off.
As expected, she was huffy, if nothing else. “Of course not! You really think I was embraced yesterday, don't you?” With a sigh, she set the pommel of her staff into the ground. “I really just want to ask one thing. Why didn't you kill her? It would've saved us all the trouble of finding her, and perhaps whatever she plans on doing.”
Nemu looked surprised. “Simple. This isn't the end. There is more to this story, and I don't intend on cutting it short – though for your presence, I'll cut this little visit short. Good Night, Morgana.”
Posts : 478
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Age : 28
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Mon Nov 19, 2012 11:50 pm|| |
Chapter XV – Awakening
Cold. The feeling was so pervasive that he couldn't possibly ignore it. But it wasn't just his skin. The feeling pierced to the bone, and it seemed that nothing would change that – save for a raging inferno, which would be more than he would wish for.
Beyond this, the realization that something was wrong came quick. His last memory was the fleeting sound of a constant beep, and the feeling of being swallowed into an abyss. After that, nothing. At this point, he wondered what his fate was, although he knew that neither of them would be kind, if any of the hate-filled words were correct. As much as he doubted it then, at this point, it seemed worth it to think otherwise.
“Do it. It is time for him to awaken to his fate, and to accept it. I will not wait any longer – he does not deserve that.”
The voice cut into his thoughts, which seemed to flow like the feeling of silk – but behind it was the ever-present sound of a hiss, even if the speech was not peppered with it.
His feelings changed. A warmth flowed into him, which was inviting as the touch of another, but somehow, it's taste was far more to the point. It was only here that he realized that he was not dead, although he felt that was an arguable point.
As the warmth flowed throughout his body, he finally had the thought to move it. As he did, he felt contained. Opening his eyes, he was treated to more blackness, but there was a faint light. Trying to move once again, the thing that constrained him gave slightly, as he realized what the problem was. For reasons unknown to him, he was wrapped up in linens. Fighting these, he freed his arms, and felt an, intrusion. A long needle was pressed into his arm, which he removed without a wince.
Placing his hands on the thing above him, he pushed hard, watching as the thing lifted off, and flung somewhere, although he could've cared less if it just fell on the floor. While it should've been clear to him before, the fact that he was inside a sarcophagus crossed his mind, although once again, why he could not figure out.
Sitting up, he then stood, looking around the room as he stepped out of it, tearing off the rest of the cloth. His dismay of the cliché that was before him was slight, but still present. Everything about the room seemed to be nothing more than a bad movie set, at least until he set eyes on her. A dark skinned beauty who matched his glare. In her eyes was delight, and her smile was fanged. He wanted to feel fear as she slowly walked towards him, climbing the few steps to where he stood.
“Welcome to un-death, my childe. Damon, is it?”
“I don't really know if you are trying to be serious, or you actually are. But I find it hard to take you seriously, when this is what I am presented with.” He raised his arms, looking around the room. As he did, he noticed what he wore. More cliché, but it still fit his tastes.
The woman smiled. “I have no reason to lie to you. While there are better ways to say this, what you are now, is nothing more than I. Which is to say, that you are Kindred.”
In comparison to what Kamena had expected, his look of 'shock' was dulled. “Are you...wait.” He ran his tongue across his teeth, finding two obstructions on the top set. Pushing them a bit, he found that they would not budge. “So, I see you aren’t lying. Although I wonder more about you, although I could care less about your 'beauty'.”
“Only a natural question. I am Kamena, your Sire.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “As of now, you are my King. When I reach my goal, we will rule this city.”
He scoffed. “How do you expect to rule anything, when half the time in the world is barred from us?”
“Those are trivial details. We will make any that oppose us submit, and those that will not, will die.”
Damon sighed. “This is what I get? In comparison to the chiding statements, my fate is to share eternity with a Priestess, who has delusions. Perhaps if it was a few centuries back, your goals would be much more convincing. But you should know that it doesn't work like that any more. Who would want you ruling them anyway? They have their ruler, and they are fine with that.”
With a snarl, she tightly grabbed him by the neck, lifting him off his feet. “If the only thing you have to offer is the obvious, then I will dispose of you, and find someone else. But realize, that if I do that, she will not be happy. She knows you died once, but I don't think she will want to hear that you died twice – though this time, it would be final. So, it stands as this – do as I ask, without such statements, and I will give you what it is your really want.”
Pushing her away, he snarled. “What I really want? You think that is how this works? I go along with what you say, help you achieve your goal, and then I get what I want? What if what I want, isn't something you are willing to give?”
“I'm sure we can work something out-”
Damon sighed. “That is why I can see you are going to fail. You need help to achieve your goal, and you get someone who isn't a mindless drone. But then, beyond the promise of what I really want, which I doubt you even know what that is, you have nothing else to chain me to you. No other reason for me to be here.”
Kamena smiled. “Oh, but I do.”
He couldn't help but laugh. “What else could you tell me? As it stands, I have been damned – although I never had any aspirations of seeing heaven anyway, since I have been told many times, that my choices have assured my place after death. Pity they never expected this, and that I never cared about what they said. Also, given that my apparent sentence is not true death, but existing forever as a Vampire, as it seems, what should compel me to work with you?”
She sighed, then walked over to her throne, which sat atop a number of stairs, like the sarcophagus that Damon had emerged from. Sitting down, she waved him over. “Like you, the one who cared most, is also. She walks the night, her blood flowing a azure hue. Like you, as you say, she is damned.”
The look of shock on his face was, rather dull. “So if I understand this correctly, your only ploy to assure my cooperation, was telling me that my sister has also been made one of...us, is it? Perhaps, although that leads me more to simply question why, than think ill of those who made her as such.”
Placing her hand on her chin, she smiled. “Then perhaps, I have made a small mistake. I realize that my real issue is with the constant domination over this city by the Camarilla, and the rather bumbling rule over it by men – you know, their 'leader' for each city is uniformly called 'Prince', even when it is a female that holds the title? How foolish.” She sighed. “Given what you are, it is of no surprise that I have an issue with you. In truth, my intention of using you was merely as a show, since I do not intend on having you ruin my plans. So, for the moment, indulge the pleasures of my haven. However, I want you to realize one thing. If you obey me, then I will make you the king you may deserve to be, and your wants will be fulfilled. Fail to do so, and your will receive the death that is, unlike your first, quite final.”
With a sigh, he knelt. “For now, then. However, I would imagine that I...require something? You should understand that this thirst isn't something to be denied for long.”
“Ah, I nearly forgot, in a sense.” She smiled. “Those behind you are all ghouls, each of them given your blood while you slept. They have the want to serve you, and for you to consume their blood. Take your pick. I understand it seems your preference lies in your own gender, which very few of our kind will judge you for – I certainly will not.”
Kamena watched as he picked out one of them to feed on, taking the young male into his arms as he bit into his neck. “Not unexpected, but still, I would advise one thing - do not kill the boy. While there are no negative effects for you, understand that he will serve you far better alive, than dead.”
Releasing his fangs, he savored the taste as the blood flowed down his throat. A snarl escaped his mouth as he set the boy down. “Somehow, I feel as if I've just...”
Kamena laughed. “Only natural. The drinking of blood for us is, if nothing else, exactly like the pleasures of human flesh – but you'll find that drinking blood satisfies you in more than one way. Some humans will believe that you've only...pleasured them, if you drink their blood, since they enjoy it as we do. The bite does not hurt them, save for the piercing of the skin upon being bitten. After, it is just as you felt.”
“Fine. Now, all this? Like I said, or perhaps thought, it has all the charm of a movie set, without the cameras.”
Kamena smiled. “In due time. Soon, you will understand what it means to be one of us. You have awakened to undeath, and that is a start. Now, you must understand your nature.”
Standing, she sighed. “But I will take my rest. As you know already, this haven is home to you. As such, the delights within it are yours to enjoy.” She walked out of the room, his sight locked onto her behind.
Shaking his head, he sighed. “As much as I like this, I wonder where it goes.”
One of the 'ghouls' had touched his shoulder. She seemed young, around his age. Her hair colored a chocolate brown, and her eyes a ever-so-light green. Like the rest, she wore a outfit that didn't look out of place in the 'Temple', but on her, it looked somewhat out of place, in comparison with Kamena's attire. Her look not unlike the eyes of a puppy, she looked almost as if she wanted him to pet her.
“I thought you had died? What happened to you?” The girl asked him.
He couldn't help but smirk as he realized who she is. The rather annoying girl who seemed to follow him around, both in school and elsewhere. Didn't seem to matter to her at all that he was gay, and she was persistent in visiting him in the hospital. “Did you not see what I did? I drank that guy's blood. Do you see any cameras? I don't. So understand that this is all real.”
“Then, I still have a chance, I guess. Maybe it might be cliche, but I...loved you since the start of high-school.”
“Are you insane? You've drank my blood while I slept, and even before that, you've wanted...me? What are you really asking for, Karin?”
She sighed. “I want you. Nothing else. That's why I didn't care when she made me...drink your blood. I awakened to a pleasure I had never known, but it isn't about that. If it were anyone else, I'd refuse.”
It seemed that she really didn't care. He had told her many times since he made his choice, that she wasn't it. He did admit to himself that she was cute, and certainly not a complete turn off. Although now, it didn't seem like there was a way to just tell her no, and walk away. He not only was something that she was willing to overlook, she didn't mind drinking his blood. Whatever it did to her, only seemed to enhance her want for him, if not just making her think that is what she wanted.
“Fine. Follow me around like a puppy if you must, but understand that I won't return the same level of affection.”
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Fri Dec 14, 2012 3:25 am|| |
Chapter XVI – Gift of the Nemes
“There will be those who contest this. There will be those who want to either take this from you, if not wishing to strike this from your head, and destroy it, along with what we build. But we will not let them take what is ours, so easily. They have their kingdom, and we will fight to build ours from the ashes left behind by their burning ruins.” Kamena yelled, her voice echoing through the room. Holding the crown in her hand, she smiled at Damon, who knelt before her. “Accepting this, will name you as my king. As such, you adhere to my goal. No detraction, no doubts, but merely a wish to achieve our goal.”
He couldn't help but smile. “You ask me to become your king. To help you destroy an Empire, and build our own.” Standing, he snarled. “Then I am afraid I cannot allow someone so foolish to give me what they wish. However...” He grabbed the crown from her hands. “I will become what I am, by my own hands.”
Turning to the crowd, he snarled deeply. “You want your king, the one who is to bring those of your blood, greatness? To remove the shadow of the Camarilla from the city you call your own? Then look upon me, and see what you want, realized. “ Placing the crown on his head, he raised his arms. The cheers were deafening.
“I will shed the blood many in the past have refused. As your king, I shall do what even SHE-” He pointed at Kamena, without turning to face her. “-refuses to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
Damon sighed. “You want to rule. You ask for greatness, for your name to be uttered by those of your clan, and others, perhaps long after you have faced your final death. However, instead of what you want, what about our true goal?”
Kamena frowned. “Set? Why should I spread darkness for him? Why should I build an Empire for him, when I may get nothing in return?”
He smiled, snarling. Grabbing her by the neck, he laughed. Placing his hand on her belt, he licked her face. “This is why you are a fool. You are weak. You want nothing but the glory for yourself.” Reaching his hand lower, she shivered. “Yes, that is it. Made a plaything with out a touch of dead flesh.” He ran a nail against her neck, drawing blood. “I ask you, what happens if I drink your blood, my sire? Do I get more powerful? Do I become even more of a slave to your will? I would bet the former.”
“SILENCE. I won't be used by you anymore. But that doesn't mean I intend on killing you. No, that would be a waste, just like humans. But I would imagine that your taste, is all the sweeter – even if the container, isn't to my liking.” Pining her to the floor, he snarled, baring his fangs. Biting into her neck, he drew blood. Unlike the rest, it had a taste to it that bred more that satisfaction. It had the air of power to it, and behind it, the voice in his head raged with a snarl that was quite excited.
Dropping her to the floor, he snarled. Turning to the crowd, he saw some of them with displeased faces. “Ah, I see you don't understand. She is what you chose to serve? The one who you would give your lives for? If so, pathetic.”
Before anyone got the chance to speak, he laughed. “What do you expect? Me to take a throne only? Is that what you expect from those above you? To lack the balls to do what they want? Sorry, but that isn't me.” Pointing at them, he kept his snarling face. “If any of you wish to display the same willingness, then please, stand and make yourself known. If not - KEEP SILENT.”
Turning back to Kamena, he smiled. “Whatever you expected, understand that I have no wish to act like your grandiose goals are my own. Why? Because you act as a child, who only wants to strike back at the one who wronged them – a narrow and limited goal, if you can achieve it. If you can, I do not know, nor care.”
Barely making the effort to stand, she snarled. “You dare defy me? ME, who made you?”
He scoffed. “You demand respect, since you shed your blood for me – when I never asked. Had you left me as I was – dead, might I add – I would not have to contend with you now. However, you must understand, that since I have eternity, at least potentially, then I choose to pursue my own goals. At this point, they do not coincide with yours. Sorry, my Sire. Follow your goals, if you still have the metaphorical balls to do so. I take my leave of this charade. Think I'll keep this though.” He tapped on the Nemes as he turned, pushing his way through the crowd.
“You take one footstep back here, and I will show you the dawn!” Kamena yelled.
He stopped near the stone door. Without turning he laughed. “Then I will have to kill you somewhere else, if you are so foolish enough to leave this Temple.”
Outside, he stared up into the sky. The moon was full, and it seemed to have a red ring around it. If it was only to his sight, or to that any that decided to view it this night, he wasn't concerned. However, he did wonder what should be done. Here he was, a purveyor of darkness, a fanged serpent, and someone who had no idea of what he should do.
Just as he made to move, he heard a faint scream. Although probably inaudible to those walking the streets around him, he couldn't help but be interested. Mostly since it came from the Temple he had just left.
With a shrug, he started to walk away, before he heard his name. Doubtless, he didn't have to see her to guess who it was.
“Damon?” Karin said has she came up behind him.
Turning, he felt annoyed – a fact which his tone made quite obvious. “What do you want?”
She turned red. “You know want I want. I really don't care if you don't want me. It isn't just your blood that makes me want you, either. “
He sighed. “Fine. But what was that scream?”
She sighed. “It was...Kamena. Once you left the room, she seemed furious. Rather than sleeping it off, or indulging herself with some blood, she found herself barraged with questions, mostly about you. She then...killed every single one who asked a question, Kindred or no. The few that stayed silent watched as she drained her ghouls to death, then left the room as she seemed to calm down. I...I left when she killed the first one, not wanting her to do the same to me.”
He couldn't hold back his laughter. “So she slaughters her kind, and the ghouls in her service, and she believes herself a compitant ruler? My balls.”
“So I can...come with you?” Her eyes seemed to water a bit, once again looking like a puppy.
“I said fine, didn't I? But I really don't know where...we are supposed to go.”
“Well, I do know a place...it isn't the best for someone in high-school, but I figure...given what we are...” She took a small card from her coat pocket. “It's here.”
Taking it, he looked it over. “A...brothel? Are you joking – wait. I suppose I could get some blood there, since I am thirsty. You don't have any money, do you?”
She sighed. “I know you might not care, but Kamena doesn't have much use for money. Still, I looked around while you slept this morning. The others didn't really have the...well, guts, at least, to look around. But I did find a stash of money. Not...too much, but I'd imagine that it would be enough for a night on the town, some clothes, and perhaps a bit of affluence when it comes to entering this place.”
Although the trip was uneventful, neither of them was asking for something to happen. Even though the streets were familiar to him, he still found it different. Death does change things, namely if it doesn't turn out to be as final, as it seems.
“So how much do you know?”
She nearly dropped her bag. “Um...about Vampires? Well, likely a little more than I've heard you and Kamena talk about, or what the others have said. In truth. I don't think it is that different from the stories, at least, save for the fact that Vampires can be, different. How, I'm not entirely sure. I don't know how much more I know to know, but I don't doubt I might learn more soon.”
He sighed. “She really hasn't told me much, save for the supposed grandeur that is my clan. I don't buy it like she does, and she is a damn fool if she thinks I can be that narrow minded. Being gay does that to you, you just can't think of things like a straight line, or black and white.”
Her cheeks flushed red. “I...no never-mind. Don't you want to go in?”
He nodded, and turned his head towards the building in-front of them. It wasn't at all obvious, since it seemed more like an old-fashioned bordello, in that it seemed more like a bar on the outside, than someplace where men paid to get lucky.
Entering into the lobby, they were met by a deathly pale woman, who held what looked like a list on a clipboard. “How are you tonight-” She looked Damon up and down. “Oh, I see. Looking for a little blood eh? Well we can certainly cater to that, although I wonder why you want to pay for it, when you have a ghoul standing right next to you.”
He sighed. “I'm...new, and I would rather not have to take it too far and kill her. Good enough?”
The woman shrugged. “Fine then. I'll get you two a room, some food, and someone to drink. That is, if you have the cash for it?”
Karin grabbed a stack out of her black bag. “This should cover it.”
The woman's eyes nearly bulged. “That will...certainly....cover it! You can call me Rose.” She took the cash from Karin, quickly thumbing through the stack of bills. “In fact, With that much, I'll give you a deluxe room, and a pair of humans with some rich blood, which you can either feed on that, or take them at your pleasure. Although...any preferences?”
Damon seemed to act as if he did, but his face did not show it. “Call it odd if you want, but any guys you have, bit feminine.”
Rose didn't say anything more, instead she grabbed a key from a wall, handing it to Damon. With this, she ran back inside, and seemed to disappear. They were left to find the room on their own, but it seemed simple enough.
Only a minute of searching, and they found the room. The door was made from ebony, and the handle was polished chrome. Inside, it was the same story. Every piece of furniture was made from the same ebony wood, and anything metal was polished chrome. The bed-sheets were black-velvet, with two pillows in silver silk. The room itself was dark, but tastefully. The few lights were white, not the usual yellow.
“Not bad. I've heard this place is a hotel too, although it depends on if your willing to pay for it. I don't know if what we paid is enough, but we do have more if you wish to stay.”
Sitting in one of the leather chairs, he sighed. “I don't know. In truth, I don't know if you heard, but my sister was embraced as well. I don't know by who, and I really don't care. But what I do want to know, is if she still cares.” Placing the crown on the table next to him, he watched with some delight as two delicious looking teenagers entered the room, both of them showing what might be far too much skin, but he could hardly complain.
“I see I will not be disappointed.”
His thoughts drifted to stories of Greece as the night dragged on. Perhaps this was not as grandiose, nor was it a party of thousands, but it felt as such. The pulse of life from the blood, added to by the feeling of warm flesh against his dead skin. Before, it would be the touch that came first, and the feelings from that. But now, it was the blood that was nearly his sole concern, and the touch was nothing more than an afterthought, something done to heighten the experience.
The idea that this could become boring was almost impossible to consider. With satisfaction of his lust, for both blood and touch, it did dawn on him that this was it. A reflection of what it once was, with the addition of something that took center stage as his desire, leaving everything else as no more than an extra, something which can be missed without much care.
To think that he could get depressed like this, was almost comical. Even if it made sense, the fact that there was no going back, no way to feel as before. But why should he? The baring of his fangs, the piercing of skin, the flood of blood in his mouth, and the ecstasy was nearly the same as before, without many of the pitfalls. What did he truly have to worry about? If he was damned, he was going to live as he wanted, and indulge himself in the pleasures the world would offer, as he wanted
“Say you find your sister again. What is it you plan to do?” Karin asked him.
He sighed. “I don't know, like I said. I know nothing of what she is involved in, or who she is with. For all I know, she could be dead by now, and Kamena was just lying to me.”
Karin shook her head. “No, it isn't that at all.”
Damon's head turned to face her with a speed that would've broken a human's neck. “What do you know?”
“Not very much. I heard Kamena talking, and it was mostly about your sister, along with someone called 'Nemu', who she was cursing. Seems he pissed her off in some way, and most of her words were pretty much that she would like nothing better than to kill him. Seems this guy has known her for quite some time, and has been something of a disappointment to her since they first met. I gathered that he isn't her childe, as he doesn't look at all like her, or like you.”
“What do you mean? What did he look like?”
She sighed. “Well, his skin was dark, and smooth, which is quite like Kamena's, but his hair is a vibrant shade of red. Seems normal enough, but then there are the horns sticking out of his head.”
Sitting up, he tried to think, but only one question was pervasive. “Did she say anything about where he might be?”
Karin rubbed her head, in a manner that Damon had to admit, was rather cute. “Well, she mentioned this estate just outside of town, called 'Oscuro'. But as far as it seems, she plans on doing something drastic soon, although it seems to be in a building downtown. It doesn't seem like she cares about the estate, or the people within it.”
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Sat Mar 23, 2013 5:47 am|| |
Chapter XVII – Good Night, Sweet Prince
“I suppose you are wondering how I did it, aren't you? The harm in telling you is very little, given that when this night is over, the Prince of London will be mere ashes, and the Camarilla he serves, will fall – not to it's knees, but into a hole, where all the rest shall follow. You know this ploy, and you know how well it works.” She traced Darrien's jawline with her finger.
“You expect me to grovel, snake? On my knees, my face pressed against your navel, and you expect me to humiliate myself further by asking you – or rather your loins, to spare me? I am a lunatic – not a fool. Although you can consider me curious, given that you stand in my office, having killed most of my staff.”
Kamena smiled, then laughed. “You never did have some other Vampire to protect you, and this was one obstacle that I not not have to contend with. Many of the Vampires were easy to either fool, or they were not ready to face someone like myself, or any others you see here. They now lie in ashes on your still gleaming floors, a fate which you shall soon share.”
She sighed. “But you are not fearful of death, like many kindred, who chose to be embraced, rather than wait to die. I do not know the reason you were embraced, but I doubt it relates to an escape from mortal death.”
“You would like to hear the reason, wouldn't you? But I won't give you the satisfaction. Kill me if you must, but you will not have that answer from me. You may learn it later, but for now, I will be nothing but silent.”
She sighed. “You take me too seriously, Prince. I do not care why you died once, but as for the second, and final time...” Her grin changed to a smile as she pulled a knife from the inside of her leg, drawing her tongue from her mouth, as it licked the cold metal. “You aren't going to laugh? So then the phrase will not wring true...”
Walking behind him, she placed her arms around him as she sunk to her knees, her arms around his chest. Slowly sliding the sharp edge of the blade against his neck, she smiled. “Good night, sweet Prince. May flights of demons violate you into eternal torment, denying you rest.”
Forcefully dragging the blade against his neck, the blood poured like a waterfall, but only for a few seconds. Standing, she scowled, watching as he smiled at her. Throwing the knife to the ground, she pulled the sword from the side of her belt, flourishing it as she planted her foot on his back, forcing him to the ground face first. With nothing but anger in her sickly green eyes, she swung the blade at his neck, watching with glee as the blade cut through his flesh, and bone, severing it from his body.
Stepping off the now headless body, she started laughing, as it burst into embers, the clothing becoming nothing more than scraps of cloth in the ashes. Sheathing her sword, her head arched back, her continuing laughter echoing around the room. “There are no words for this. I feel a freedom I have never felt, since my only direction now, is one I will set. No more will I cower in the shadow of your masque.”
“Is that true? You believe that with one single death, no mater the importance, you have won? Oh, his staff might not matter very much, but you do have to understand that you have been played this entire time.”
Kamena snarled, hearing the voice which seemed to arc through the air like a poisonous gas. “You pestilent ass. You think being here, of all places, matters? The Prince of this city is dead, and the first step has been climbed. You think anything you say is going to change things?”
Nemu leaned against the door frame. “Perhaps not. But there is one thing I can tell you, which will do much to shock, and not just you, Marisha.” His grin changed to a smirk. “Darrien, although capable as a Prince, has not held the seat for that long. Rather than wanting the seat, he chose to remain close to the power, but never painting the target on himself. However, you could say that this situation came about, because of us.”
She snarled again. “I suppose you mean to explain that?”
He nodded. “I knew what you wanted, given those nights I spent with you. I found your words interesting, namely since I have understood something simple, since my embrace. Which is, that there are forces in this world, which if you deign to fight them, you will lose. Not because you can't win, but because they have won, before you made your first move – perhaps before you started playing. In this case, your first move, was embracing Elizabeth's brother, and long before, the Prince had already made the move which set up your loss.”
She laughed. “Maybe he rigged this building with explosives, maybe he did some other incomprehensible thing which I don't have any care to mention, it does not matter. He is dead, and the Camarilla will die it's death soon enough, and he can do nothing to stop it.”
With a smile, Nemu bared his mouthful of fangs. “You don't really understand my meaning, do you? Then perhaps, I should not stand in the way of the truth. Maybe at the end of this petty squabble, I'll see you again – and be able to have my way with you one last time, before you die.”
Stepping aside, he waved as his body disappeared into the darkness. Behind him, stood a single woman, her cold blue eyes staring at Kamena. Around these eyes, the pale face was unblemished, perfect. Her hair was black, her eyes surrounded by black eyeliner, and her dark red lips curled around a snarling smile.
“If you were looking for a Prince, you merely killed a placeholder – I.e a decoy. I will not lie, and say I did not care about him, but this is an outcome that we both were prepared for. Some of the details were not planned, but the variances are not impossible to overcome.” She sighed as she walked through the door frame. “Perhaps, at least for the sake of understanding on your part, I will introduce myself. Lady Anne Bowesley, or Queen Anne if you will. Should you not, it only means you die sooner.”
Kamena snarled. “MITHRAS. So, you are the demon spawn of that bastard. How long and why did you have his d-”
Throwing a knife at Kamena, it hit her square in the forehead. “Silence. You should know that I hated him just as much. The very idea, that I was just 'holding' his throne – absolute bullshit. When I heard of his death, you have no idea how many clamored for my throne. But he is not my sire, who tried a foolish measure to gain power, which I can see why Mithras did not abide it. Darrien was the only one who offered his support of my rule, even more so when your scheme was revealed. But it is much worse than that, isn't it? Perhaps it would not be as severe, if it was just a Prince you killed – although most would take it as such, myself included. It would simply mean final death. But considering you also used the blood of a Primogen to Sire, and now we have ample grounds for something far worse.”
Pulling the knife from her head, Kamena snarled. “You think I'm going to let you end this here? This entire charade is far from over.”
Anne smiled. “Oh? You mean to jump out such a window? By all means. I'd have the mess cleaned up and and witnesses silenced within an hour, if not less. Also, I'll do you a courtesy, sending your ashes to the slums where you came from – and then I'll have it all torn down so the memory of you, fades to obscurity.”
“You think I cannot kill you as well? One more pile of ashes will not brother me.”
Anne smiled. “You could certainly TRY. But as it always is, I have planned for this. On every rooftop which has a view of that window, snipers, each able to place a round though the smallest inch of your body. Also, I have several other means of protection, which aren't limited to my own abilities. Though I will make mention of the fact, that if you make one step towards me, you will fall before you take another. So, either run for that window, and hope you are lucky enough to reach the ground before you die, or face your death, right here and now. Either way, DO IT.”
As she expected, Anne watched as Kamena and her compatriots ran for the window, each of them diving through the glass with anger on their face. Let it be. Having the foe be angry upon besting them is to be expected. Still, she wondered where this would lead. Turning her head, she walked toward Darrien's ashes. Kneeling, she sighed. “I am sorry. But we both knew what she planned, and having such a thing happen, is unthinkable.”
Standing, she turned around, just as Makrev walked off the elevator. His face immediately looked rather shocked, and he hurried his pace towards her. “Anne? What exactly....Ah.”
“Save your pity Makrev, you know just as well as I do that this was planned for. We just didn't know when she would do this. Still, we do know that all she seeks now is my death, which as you well know, isn't easy.”
He shook his head. “No, I understand. Although, you have been told about the situation in detail, have you not?”
Taking a seat in the desk chair, she sighed. “Admittedly, I find it interesting that I am getting most of it from a Tzimisce, but given what I know of him, he is not only loyal to those he counts as friends, along with the same for his country, but he at least has respect for the Camarilla, if nothing else. He has told me everything, and I find it interesting that this snake was able to crawl her way around for so long. His mention of their past relationship, and his confidence to the end that it will not make any difference to him, if he is the one to kill her. This aside, I find it interesting the fledgling he mentioned, wasn't with her tonight. Why I cannot say, and Nemu wasn't aware either – save for his mention of knowing that this 'Damon' was rather like himself, in that they both possess an, admiration for the masculine form. How that applies, I do not know, but if this plays out how I suspect it will, I will either be forced to kill Damon, and draw the ire of Elizabeth in the process, which admittedly isn't something I really care about, or something will give me cause to spare him. In truth, I have no care about that, and hell, even the Salubri that Darrien consorted with will not be my concern either, even if Morgana would say otherwise.”
Makrev sighed. “I will defer to your judgment, but perhaps there is a need for careful consideration. We do not yet know what Damon is like, although it can be inferred that he isn't the figurehead that Kamena might've intended him to be. It may be that he has left London, or he just does not know what he should do at this point, if he indeed did leave Kamena's haven. But either way, I will refrain from having an opinion at this point, as there is little need on this issue.”
With a nod, Anne smiled. “Hmm...perhaps that is the better option. In some respects, I could see Morgana contesting this choice, even if, in truth, it is one I have not truly made as of yet. However, I'm sure she will come around, since that is the usual with her. I'm quite sure Alice or the others will abide this, especially since they were so sympathetic with your little dilemma concerning Elizabeth.”
She sat back in her chair. “About that – I feel exactly as Darrien did. Although it is true your new...well, in a sense...childe was sired without permission, it was not you who wished for it, even if you accept her as if you had. A rare circumstance, but one that I don't believe deserves punishment. As I understand it, you are doing the same job with her, as you did with Kami. This might be similar to what Darrien told you, but with my words, it is final.”
His face contorting with what would've been a blush, Makrev nodded. “I thank you for that. Just as before, I couldn't help but think for a moment that you wouldn't act with leniency, but I appreciate the fact that you have.”
Reaching her hand under the desk, her finger found a small button. Pressing this, a set of metal shades covered the windows, safeguarding the office against the sun. “What bothers me, is that I do not know for sure what Kamena plans to do next. Perhaps I have rattled her, in that she now knows that trying to kill me is a fool's errand, and she won't do anything so bold again. But that doesn't change the fact that she will do something else, and even if Nemu had ideas on this subject, he couldn't know for sure. As much as I would rather not trust him, my options are limited, as you well know.”
Makrev sighed. “I...well, I cannot say I feel the same, but from what I have heard, he isn't one to act in such a way. He may be rebellious, but only against those who view him as a subordinate – in which case, he both loses respect for the person, and will not do anything they say. Understandable, if nothing else.”
With a nod, Anne sat up. “I can't say I really doubt him, but it is a trite concern, in comparison to Kamena. It does not change much, as she has done enough to warrant nearly all of my attention. A notable feat, but one that will end up being more infamous, than anything. I would decide on a Blood Hunt, but that would be too easy. I want the satisfaction of seeing the look on her face when she fails, even if I do not land the killing blow. I will be there when she dies, and that is a certainty.”
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Wed Apr 24, 2013 3:38 pm|| |
Chapter XVIII – Reunion In Death
“Do you really think that this is a good idea? We have no clue if anyone is going to take offense with us, and hell, why wouldn't they have a reason to kill us?”
Karin sighed. “You say that like I am suicidal. I don't know if that is the case, but I would think that your connection with Elizabeth might cause them to at least listen to you, if nothing else. I mean, what do you expect them to do? Stake you and leave you out for the dawn? What have you done to deserve that?”
Damon looked cross. “If it is anything they might just have a such a punishment for, I don't know. But all I worry about, is obvious. I might not care for this 'Camarilla', but I'd rather not have them antiquating me with the dawn, because I paid one of them a visit.”
“You say that as if you are not expected, young snake. But understand that you are, and in the event that you chose to come here, I am the one to greet you, not the dawn.”
Turning around, Damon watched as a figure walked between the large gates as they opened, stopping just as they were bathed in the light of the nearby streetlight. His mind raced, wondering exactly what kind of greeting this kindred planned on. However, in a few seconds, the appearance seemed somewhat familiar. “You're Nemu, aren't you?”
The kindred smiled, his mouth full of fanged teeth. “Indeed. I see that I must have done something right, if Kamena blabbed about me in such a way. She is so much like a child in that regard, even if she can in many ways, not be considered such. However, you being here means that I understand far more than she thinks, and if you were expecting an unkind welcome, you are quite mistaken. It may be true that, like myself, it will be uneasy, but you do have family here, if nothing else. Perhaps it is a bond begotten by death, but it will likely still exist, nonetheless.”
“So you mean to tell me that I am going to be just welcomed here, and not looked at like some sort of a liability?” Damon's anger was obvious.
Nemu sighed. “What is it that you expect? You really wish for problems, don't you? But I understand. None of your...preferences, will be held in regards to your stay here. What will be, is your role in this drama, and if you decide to go along with what you will likely be told. You may not have to toe a line, as some may expect you to do, but some level of cooperation will be beneficial to you, and your lovely ghoul.”
Karin blushed, but Damon still seemed on edge. “Still, I am here for more than that, as you are no doubt aware.”
With a smile, Nemu turned, walking towards the large house. “Then cross the threshold of Oscuro, and reacquaint yourself with Elizabeth.”
Reluctant as he was, Damon still went along with it. Looking to Karin for anything other than cooperation was rather foolish, especially since she didn't seem to be worried at all. A thought crossed his mind that such a thing might mean something, but it could also be her lack of information on the subject, and her rational mind. But he found it hard to rationalize Vampires, especially since he had been one for quite some time, perhaps over a year or more, and knew nothing about it.
His thoughts about the estate were very simple, even if much about it was obvious. Why it was named as such, he had no reason to ask, but what seemed more important, is the fact that it was furnished in such a way, that he could perhaps envision the queen herself sitting comfortably in nearly any of the cushioned chairs, or on any of the white leather sofas. While most of the rooms were rather dark, many of the walls being dark colors, and sparsely lit, the furniture contrasted this, the materials mostly being white or silver.
As they walked through the large entrance hall, Damon couldn't help but stare at a rather finely dressed kindred, who wore mostly white, save for his boots, belt, and the leather collar on his long jacket. His face was pale, and statuesque, while his pale blue eyes were piercing. The hair that framed his face was well kept, with not a single strand of hair out of place.
“Damon, is it? Well, as unconventional as some kindred would take this, I am not like them. I welcome you to my estate, and if you wish to stay, then any benefit I can offer, is yours.”
Damon sighed. “And you would be?”
The dark-haired kindred smiled. “Makrev. As you might already know, I am the one who...technically sired Elizabeth, even if Kamena had her fangs in it, where I only had my blood.”
“What exactly are you expecting? That I have a problem with any of that? I don't care about what you or Kamena have done. So my sister is a Vampire, just like me. I don't have any problem with that.”
Makrev shrugged. “Well, not exactly like you. But I'd imagine you are already somewhat aware of the differences Vampires can have, so I won't explain. If nothing else, she is more like me, but nonetheless, she is still the same as ever, even if it can be said that I did not know much, if anything about her before her embrace.”
Damon shrugged. “Different or not, she is my sister.” He sighed, just as he turned his head, watching Elizabeth walk in the entrance hall from what looked like a sitting room.
“Makrev? What exactly is...” She tried looking directly at Makrev, but she found herself staring at Damon. “Damon? What the..”
Doing everything but blush, Damon smiled, closing the distance. “Hi, sis.” Almost as if he was compelled to do so, he placed his arms around her. “I don't know if I can say sorry for being sick like that, but I am. I wish we didn't have to meet again like this, but if you don't have any problems with it, I am willing to get rid of mine.”
Looking at him in the eye, she seemed on the verge of tears, but held it back. “I don't hate you for anything. But who...?”
He sighed, letting her go. “Kamena. Her plan was likely what you already know, but it involved me, helping her out. I wouldn't do it, and I left. If anything, I'd rather exist like this, knowing that she is dead. As for what happened before she embraced me, I can't say. I don't really care, to be honest. If I find out, fine.”
She looked at Makrev. “What exactly do you plan on....”
He shook his head. “This is something I would not want to come between. In my recent conversation with the Prince, it was agreed that Damon is not an affront to the Masquerade, even if that has yet to be seen. Personally, I doubt it will be. As he was embraced by an independent clan, it cannot exactly be said that he was embraced without permission, even if there are those who would disagree. Fortunately, any that would, lacks any standing with the Prince.” Makrev shifted his focus to Damon. “If you so wish, you may stay here. Think of yourself as a guest, and like your sister, I will provide whatever it is you need – within reason, of course.”
Damon sighed, and realized only now that he felt like yawning, he didn't. “Strange. Anyway, think I can...take a shower?”
Makrev said nothing, but Liz nodded. “Come on, I'll show you where it is.”
Following her up the stairs, he caught up with her at the top. “So, you mind filling me in on a few things?”
As they walked, she told him everything, save for what she herself didn't know. Much of it he took in stride, his face barely changing, even as she mentioned Nemu killing Ishizu, or when she briefly spoke of Kami. Just as they stopped at the bathroom door, he sighed. “Damn, sis. Here I thought being locked in a box for over a year was interesting.”
“I really don't want to know what that is like.” Opening the door, she ushered him inside.
Although most of it was the common tile that you'd expect out of a bathroom, it was...huge. The entire floor seemed to be made for bathing, since it stepped down from the door, and it had chrome drains everywhere. There were walled off showers, and a few personal tubs. The counter held three sinks, and the mirror just behind it was just about as large as a coffin. Damon almost felt like his jaw hit the floor, as impossible as that might be.
“Yeah, I had the same reaction. I'd guess most of this is because Makrev's wife, when he was human, was from Japan – although I don't know if they had restrooms like this in the twenties. Although he did mention a trip there a few years ago, plus the renovations that were done just after he came back.” She shrugged. “By the way...”
“...What's with that girl that came with you?” She asked, with a telling grin on her face.
He couldn't blush, once again. “A friend from school. But seriously, I do not know why she is following me. She knows about me, damn near everything, and she still follows. I mean, she might be ghouled by my blood, but that wasn't my doing.”
There was a smirk on her face, but he couldn't tell why. “Ah. Never-mind then. Just asking, really. Although...” She pushed him up against the sink. “...I did think you were to busy juggling balls to even think about girls, but I suppose I might be wrong about that. We both know you loved to hear about what happened to me at school.”
He sighed. “What do you even...”
Running her knee up against the inside of his leg, she placed her hand on his neck. “I wonder how that felt, pleasing yourself at the thought of your sister being...raped? But it can't really be called that, given how much I acted like a slut. That asshole might've been popular, and certainly not my boyfriend, but he was possessive of me after one date. I mention a single time that I don't want to go somewhere after school, and he drags me into the bathroom...ooh, am I getting you all hot and bothered?”
“Actually no...” He looked her in the eye.
Snarling, she smiled, raising her knee to his crotch, rubbing it. “You liar. I heard you rubbing one out after you heard about it. That I didn't even resist him, and instead took charge, how I WANTED him to take me like that.”
Damon smiled. “What, you want me to lie about it? Seems you aren't even mentioning how we both went at each other a few nights after, like fucking rabbits. You think it matters that I prefer guys? Or that now, we don't even care about chasing ass or pussy, only blood? Of course not.”
Smiling, she lowered her leg. “Fine. But you have got me curious about what you taste like. Maybe we should try each other some time, just like before. Only...it will feel much better, of that I can assure you.”
“I can't argue with that. Although, unless you plan on stripping and taking a shower with me, think you can leave?”
Liz snorted. “Still feeling the fire, eh? I can't blame you. Although...so am I. Careful on what you do about that.” She sighed. “Everything you need should be in here, so...oh, just watch the toilet. Although such a sensation shouldn't at all be a problem for you. Later, onii-chan.” She walked to the door as she spoke, closing the door being her as she left the bathroom.
Blinking, he looked around. “Onii-chan? What the hell does she think this is? Japan?” Shaking his head, he undressed himself, placing his clothes in a small basket, hoping it was the right place.
Choosing one of the shower stalls, he stepped in, turning on the water. The feeling of it on his skin was pretty much the same, save for the fact that Kamena had mentioned briefly that doing such a thing was close to pointless. Never-mind that she had a fetish for bathing in scented oils, but that wasn't his thing.
Sighing, he stuck his head under the water. “So what if I did. That's in the past, in another life, actually. Still, she always was like that. I wouldn't be surprised if she was fucking every guy around here. I would be too, if I was interested.” With a shrug, he smiled. “One hell of a way to reunite with my sister. Pity we both had to die for it to happen. Still, not the worst way to die.”
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|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Tue Apr 30, 2013 11:21 pm|| |
Chapter XIX – Wherefore art thou...Bridget?
“Will you please, just shut up? You keep mentioning it like it really matters, when we both know it does not. After all, if it was your problem, I would be interested in you. Which if you understand, I am not. So if you please...?”
Damon sighed, as he watched his fellow schoolmate simply snicker. “Well, just answer the damn question. Are you a faggot, or not?”
He couldn't help but feel even more annoyed, but then he smiled. “You really want to know? Then bend over, and let's find out. But if you aren't inclined to do so, fuck off.”
Walking away, he ignored the stares, and the chiding statements. He was resolved on the issue, and thus it was no longer a debate for him. Pity it wasn't the same for others, and they constantly dredged up the issue of whether or not it was right, and thus once again, he fell back into that quick, yet lingering depression that only logic erased.
Grabbing his bag, he slung it over his shoulder as he walked out of the classroom. It might be the perfect set up, even if it never was. Have a central location for people who can be massively conflicted about every fucking issue under the sun and not, and you have a bubbling pit of insanity. Even if it made sense, how does it make sense for a girl to know who it is that she wants to be her boyfriend, if not more, and yet, she has another guy who is more of a rebound, that makes her confused. The way he saw it, take the one you like, and shut up. Although, that is likely the problem – his perspective. He had long since given up trying to figure out how women thought, even if the logic versus emotion thing was the most obvious, and made the most sense. Still, he understood guys, and thus, a perfect match.
Leaving the building, he felt the same sort of freedom he always did, knowing that he wouldn't have to return for another two days. The casual things people made at school, friends for instance, was something that he never cared for. He had made a few, but most of them were casual, and not at all like his sister was. Meaning, no one he could really count on. If any of them were like that, it wasn't around him.
Elizabeth was a rather unique example, even if she would hit every check on a list for what makes one a tomboy, save for the fact that she didn't mind wearing a dress or skirts, but that didn't stop her from wearing whatever the hell she wanted to. Their mother did find it annoying when she jokingly mentions wearing his clothes, which he knew she wasn't lying about. They were similar in size, but her fascination wasn't wearing them out, oh no. He'd just walk in on her wearing them or putting his clothes on, which he felt was quite the inverse, from what would be expected. Although, it can be said that the expected did happen, but she wasn't the type to cover herself and start screaming. She would either just keep doing as she was, give him a good look, or actually ask for his opinion. He didn't mind doing so, but he never seriously considered wearing anything of her's, even if she kept mentioning that he'd look good in some of her clothes.
Stopping at the gate, he took a candy bar from his bag. Opening it, he stuck one end in his mouth, and pulled off the wrapper. Throwing the paper into a nearby bin, he looked around. “Yeah, like that is going to happen. She looks good in anything.” With a sigh, he went to take a step, before his name was called.
Turning around, he found himself puzzled as he watched a girl run towards him, that seemed...different. He couldn't place it, but it seemed trivial. She wore the normal female uniform, only it seemed rather loose. On her face was a smile, which he had to admit, was rather cute.
“Going to rail on me too? I'm just not interested, so....”
She shook her head. “No, I don't care. Those assholes don't understand, and it would take more than anyone has to make them understand. Oh, I'm Karin.”
He snorted. “I'd try beating it into them, but that wouldn't be any fun. I suppose I've been lucky. They expect me to be a spineless coward, but then they find that I'm willing to beat the shit out of them. That just leaves their insults, which only means they are wasting their breath.”
Karin's stare was grating, almost like she hung on every word. “So, you want to go somewhere? I'll treat you to something.”
Damon shook his head. “Sorry, but I've already got plans. It's my sister's birthday, and I'll be with my family most of the weekend.” He rubbed his neck. “Eh...maybe some other time?”
Karin simply smiled, getting uncomfortably close to him. She almost draped herself around him, pushing him against the wall. Pressing her body up against his, she licked his ear. “I'll keep you to that, Damon.”
Shaking his head, he sighed. Another drift, as it seems. Still, in thinking of it, it seemed much clearer than before, and certain details were nagging him. Chief among them being that this was the last day he'd remembered being able to function in such a way, as he wouldn't be even walking by Sunday night. Hell, the fact that he remembered the look on his mother's face as he'd fainted that morning, was almost too much to bear. The fact that he had been sick wasn't unknown to anyone, but for some time, it seemed that he had pulled through it, although there were days where he didn't feel too hot. Both his mother, and Elizabeth doted on him. Any day that had him staying home from school, usually started with his sister waking him up, and realizing how bad he felt. She'd do no more than have his mother check, who never forced him to go.
The dinner that Friday night was full of happiness, which he couldn't bare to forget. Liz had just turned twenty, and she'd started at the university a year or two before. She wasn't the die-hard school type, so the dinner wasn't loaded with her friends, only a few members of the family that could attend, and it certainly wasn't a very grandiose affair either. Their mother had asked, but she wanted something simple, as usual, even if it was a high-class restaurant she'd chosen. Still, he had ideas of something better, since his birthday was the day after, since he came a bit late, at least a while after her. That didn't stop their mother from having a single party for them both, so long as that was okay with them. He had no issue with it, and the most Liz ever brought up were simple affairs, even when the parties were more complex as children.
But that Sunday morning was different. Damon had woken up feeling a little sick, but nothing major. He simply took the medicine, and pulled himself out of bed. From that point, he felt fine. What awaited him and Liz downstairs, was a finely prepared breakfast, and some quality time with family. Until he had nearly finished, and he spat up blood into what was left.
Then he has to watch it. The looks of his sister, and his mother, as he heaved blood onto the table, along with down his front, and subsequently blacks out. The feeling, even in thinking of it, was horrifying. The next thing he remembered, was waking up in the hospital, about three days later, as he was told, feeling as if he'd nearly been diced up, which wasn't the case, as much as it seemed so. The only one in the room was his sister, and she nearly couldn't bare to speak. All he asked was how bad it was, and she showed him a mirror.
Admittedly, he didn't look that bad. But he was pale enough that he looked damn near dead, and he could barely raise his head off the pillow. Even small movements, seemed almost impossible. He had felt fear before. But this was different. It wasn't like taking crap from those assholes, this was like they held a gun to his head, having already shot him once. He did nothing but shed tears at that moment, especially since it was only minutes later were a doctor came in, his words consisting of a rather cold, “I'm sorry, son”.
The first moment that he thought of dying, came right after that. The abyss taking him, the void of blackness which seemed to be unending. What would be next? In truth, he didn't give a damn. So what if his wish to love someone was 'wrong'. If it would be hell, he would rather it, than having to 'repent' for something, that was likely to be nothing more than men who simply decided it was a 'sin'.
Shaking his head once again, he looked down. Pooling in the water below him, were drops of blood. He snarled, the idea of him still being sick was impossible. With a sigh, he wiped his face.
Catching a look at his hand, the flesh was tinted red, with blood. He couldn't help but laugh. “Born in blood, and thus you will cry as such...among other things.” He smiled, cleaning his face and hands off. He hoped it wouldn't cause a bigger issue, although of what sort he couldn't begin to guess.
Hearing the door open, he couldn't help but feel puzzled. It was unlikely that some other occupant of the mansion had entered so easily, especially since anyone who entered would quickly learn that the room was, somewhat occupied, even if it was large enough for a few others. Still, he only listened as the person seemed to start undressing. Through the glass, he could only see an outline, which was interesting in itself.
“Sorry for intruding Damon, but I wouldn't mind taking one too. Hopefully, you don't mind some company in here.”
Karin's voice entered his ears, and surely, he had no problem with it. However, something seemed wrong. Watching the shadow, the figure didn't suggest female at all. Now that he thought about it, just like that day outside school, her outfit had been loose, even if it wasn't the school uniform. In fact, the shadow lacked a detail he would've expected, and possessed one that suggested one thing.
“If you are looking, then you already know. Although, I intend on giving you a much better view.” She said, the sound of her walking across the tiled floor as she spoke, being all that he could think about.
Sliding the door aside, she smiled at him. Of course, the idea of referring to her as such, was foolish. Drinking her in, he smiled. “So, what exactly do I call you?”
“I'm...Reyes.” The boy smiled. “I know what you might be thinking, but I'd imagine I've just eased your mind, and in a way, made you understand. As for the ruse, well, I liked the girl's uniform better, and it stuck with me. I never expected it to go that far, even as I accepted everything – but it was more my way of hiding what I was, since I didn't feel that I could be as bold as you. Hell, If I'd never met you, I would've never changed my mind about that. Still, that isn't what this is about.”
Damon kept smiling. “Whatever it is about, I want to hear more.”
Reyes smiled, stepping into the shower. Coming very close to Damon, he softly touched the pale flesh. “Colder than I remember, but I'm okay with that. Much about you has changed, but only the surface. Everything I loved about you, remains. Still, we made a promise, remember? I don't care about dinner, but I would love to be on your menu.”
Placing his hands around Reyes' neck, he locked their lips. The touch was different, his flesh only slightly responding to the touch. Even as dead as he was, he still felt, and that was all he needed. To think he had existed for so long with someone he could only feel comfortable with, only to find that they were someone he could truly open up to.
Pulling his lips away, Reyes smiled. “I hated hiding myself from you. The looks from the Vampires downstairs, they all knew, somehow. Liz, Nemu, they both were fascinated. Kamena didn't give a damn, and barely cared when I almost begged her to take me. I know how it sounds, but it was all to get close to you. Now that I'm here, I only feel I can get closer.”
Damon looked puzzled. “What do you...”
Touching Damon's face, Reyes smiled. “Many things can be said about it, and I'm probably not the first. But you do know, that if we are truthful, what you must do?”
He couldn’t help but look shocked. “You mean...you want me to...”
Reyes nodded, smiling. “I know you can't just do it now. That would just set far too many people against us. But if it is at all possible, I want it. I thought and said the same thing to that bitch, but when I did, it didn't have the same weight, as telling it to you. But, I would gladly die for you, if only so I can stay with you. If I have to wait, I don't care. Right now, I feel safer than I ever have, in the arms of a Vampire.”
Damon smiled, then snorted. “Nice dime novel speech. But this isn't meant to be that cheesy. Bloody perhaps, if you don't mind.”
“I already said I didn't, though it's obvious why you'd act like that.” Reyes sighed. “But I don't want to just be bitten. I want you, and then you can bite me.”
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
Location : Normandy SR-2
|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Tue Jun 04, 2013 4:45 am|| |
Chapter XX – COMPACTUS – Agreement of The Snake and the Fiend
“It is certainly unusual for someone like yourself to have wished for an audience with me, however, given the assistance you have already provided, I am willing to listen, if nothing else.”
Anne sat back in her chair, crossing her legs underneath the desk. She found it curious that Nemu had asked to speak with her, and it wasn't just him. Upon arrival, it seemed that Elizabeth's brother had also accompanied him. This did send her guards into a bit of a scuffle, perhaps to a rather drastic degree, but no harm was done, as per her simple utterance of the word “Stop.” She was still wary of this “Damon”, and was only willing to trust him for the moment.
“I certainly understand, although I feel that the deal I agreed to with Darrien may not have been upheld with his death, and your subsequent retaking of the position of Prince. I do not know if you were informed of these terms, but I would ask that if you have heard anything of my reputation, it is well earned. Meaning, that I do just as I say. If you can see such things, I have never went so far as to resort to what we both understand, is forbidden.” Nemu made no effort to sit as he spoke.
She smiled. “If you were to do so, I may have the consideration to allow such a thing. But it seems that you have no interest in doing so, and thus, it would be pointless. Still, I am aware of your deal with Darrien, and as I recall, it only dealt with the death of Ishizu, which you have been successful in completing.” She placed her hand over her mouth, but quickly removed it. “Ah, but wait. He did mention that you would have no qualms against dealing with Kamena as well, given your history. Nothing I will judge you for, but if you wish to do so, I would certainly allow that. I do have doubts that you would fail, since your record does precede you, even if there may be others like yourself, with one that stretches further back. There are differences, but I'm sure you are well aware of them.”
Nemu smiled. “Certainly. My goal would be riding your city of this...snake, if for no other reason that she exists as a thorn in my side, as well.”
Anne seemed rather puzzled, her nodding aside. “Tell me, Tzimisce, why is it, that you seem to ardently support the Camarilla, if not simply allying yourself with it, at times? From what I have heard, you have no love for the Sabbat, and if nothing else, you view many of your own clan's ideals as foolish. Care to enlighten me?”
“My reasons are simple. My sire never had any love for the Sabbat, nor the Camarilla, but I feel that there are certain things in existence, which fighting is a foolish endeavor. The Sabbat, are too zealous for my liking, while the Camarilla, while perhaps far too entrenched in the Jyhad for my liking as well, I consider it to be, if nothing else, the lesser of two evils. Which may be an opinion that some within the Camarilla share, it being a necessary evil.” Nemu grinned. “While I cannot bring myself to be on a leash, I do not mind a certain, equal relationship with those I work with, even if I do not have any wish to have the same power that you hold. With my work, if nothing else, I would prefer the understanding that it is a contract that both I, and my employer have agreed to, and save for unforeseeable consequences, nothing will be changed. Such as, in the current situation, I plan to find Kamena, drink her blood, and then kill her. With or without help from those I have made allies, if not friends with, in your city.”
Anne seemed to be thinking, her fingers rubbing her chin. With a smile, she nodded. “If that is indeed what you wish to do, then so be it. For what she has done, I wish to see the Setite as no more than ashes, and if you wish to accomplish this goal for me, you may drink her blood with impunity. In fact, if you see fit to diablerize her, then do so. If you do not, her final death is all I ask for.”
Keeping his grin, Nemu nodded. “Perhaps. But there is an angle of this that I did not intend when speaking with Darrien upon my arrival. That being, Damon here. While I certainly have the wish to kill her, he does as well. However, what he intends to ask for, although I cannot say for certain what it is, requires your...council.”
With a smile, Anne waved Damon forward. “Then, what is it that you wish to ask me, young snake?”
Approaching her desk, Damon sighed. “I care little for any traditions of my clan. If that marks me as an outcast of them, I don't care. I didn't have religion as a human, if only because that 'faith' said I was to burn in hell for my sins, as if I cared. But at this point, I would not wish to shift my beliefs from God to Set, or anyone else. If it is respect for you, and the traditions of the Camarilla that is required of me, I will gladly give that freely. But no more.”
Her smile didn't change, only it widened, baring her fangs. “Then, I see no reason to kill you...yet. If you have no love for gods, but respect for me and what I represent, I will spare you that fate. However, you have a request. That would be?”
Taking time to explain his ordeal with Kamena, Damon noticed that Anne seemed to be hardly surprised with such events. Though she seemed to somewhat question how his Sire had manipulated things so far, the detail of what happened between his time in the hospital, and his waking up in Kamena's haven, was broken, much of it unknown to him. His telling of the ghouls Kamena had made from his blood, barely made Anne flinch, even when Damon mentioned that one of them had accompanied him to Makrev's estate, although upon mentioning that 'Karin' was actually Reyes, a male, she did briefly have a look of shock, but she shrugged it off quickly.
Damon looked straight at Anne, his eyes focused. “If I help Nemu deal with Kamena, I only want one thing. I understand that it may be too bold a request for one such as myself, but I make it all the same. I don't intend on turning myself or anyone against your will, and if at all possible, I will do what I can to be sure that no incidents, can be blamed on myself or...” He trailed off.
Anne laughed. “So then, if I can venture a guess, you are asking for the permission to embrace this, 'Reyes', provided you are able to successfully kill Kamena.” She smiled. “Given the situation, there are those that doubt you even able to adhere to the traditions of the Camarilla, and are of the belief that no matter what you believe, no matter what it is you plan to do, my course of action should only be to kill you, for varying reasons. With that in mind, I will make you this proposal, in light of your request.”
She stood, walking around her desk. Standing in front of Damon, she grabbed an ornate knife from her desk, placing it at his throat. “You may embrace him at any time – however, should you choose to do it before Kamena is dealt with, and you so chose to not kill the Setite, then I will kill both of you - no matter how far you might decide to run. If you embrace the boy, and both of you die in the process of killing your Sire, then the Camarilla has it's ashes. This aside, if Kamena is successfully killed, no matter when you embrace, then you will have no charges against you, provided that you and your new childe adhere to the rules of the Camarilla.”
Damon gulped. “As you wish, My Prince. I do not intend to run from this. Kamena caused my death, twice over, and I will not let her live much longer, nor will I live in a world that she inhabits. Knowing she is responsible for not only my death, but that of my sister as well.”
Dropping the knife back on her desk, Anne grabbed Damon's hand, using her other to wave Nemu over. Taking the Tzimisce's hand, she smiled. “Then as it stands, we are in accordance. We now have our roles for the coming nights, and failure, as you both are no doubt aware, is an outcome in which only I will survive. If you fail, I will squash Kamena like the beetle that she is, and burn whatever is left of her and her clan in this city, if the remnants do not wish to comply.”
After a few other exchanged words, mostly relating to other matters, though still having some relation to the reason for their visit, both Nemu and Damon left. Anne couldn't help but wonder if her choices were right, but even if there were not, she would eventually make them so. If she so wished to make such a deal with a fledgling, who would stop her? The most the detractors would do, as usual, is complain with their flourishes, even if they made little sense, and did nothing to stabilize the situation.
Leaning back in her chair, she watched a glassy blur appear in the corner of her eye. Rather than being alarmed, she sighed. “To what do I owe this pleasure...Annabelle?”
Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, Annabelle smiled. Her clothing was rather messy, although still spotless, as usual, though it was more the “just rolled out of bed after sex” sort. She sat herself on a nearby chair, draping her legs over the armrest, and laying her neck on the other.
“You ask if your choices are correct. Those around you understand less than you, and as such, they speak with a tongue that is honeyed – pity you have no taste for it.”
Anne sat up. “You don't mean to suggest that some are planning betrayal, are you?”
“No, not betrayal. Save for their words, they wish to follow yours, so long as your speech being in line with their interests. They understand that you cannot be manipulated, so they hope beyond such that you can be won over with logic, even if yours already makes sense, while theirs lack coins.”
With a smile, Anne stretched. “I see. Perhaps not as far as you, but far enough. There is a reason that I enjoy your council, I just wish you would take my proposal for appointment to the position of Primogen. Still, it is your choice.”
Standing, Annabelle smiled. “I desire no elaborate seat, nor any pedestals to stand upon, or a tower to look over a city. I have what I have, as do you. On this head, there will be no targets.”
“So, any plans for tonight?” Nemu stopped Damon as they left the building.
With a sigh, Damon laughed. “What do you mean? Are you planning to show yourself to me or something?”
His mouth parting into a fanged smile, Nemu snickered. “Well, there are many places I have tried to get myself into, although I have never lowered myself to forcing the issue. Still, unlike some of my past exploits, there are only pure intentions behind my words. As you have already seen it, this life is tenuous, and ever-changing – at least to the perspective that, one century is never the same as the last. If this 'Gehenna' is mere bullshit, then it may prove to be...interesting, and as such, I would intent to see that through to the end, if there is one. But more to the point, this night, is all that is important. I think, at least for us Vampires, it is better to live like there is no end, even if one comes upon just that the next night. But I don't intend on simply telling you my perspective. I intend to show you – as you expected, but there are certain places which one only goes, if wanted.”
Within the hour, they both found themselves in what seemed to be a dark night club, and it proved to be just that. Blood was on offer, and certainly not served in glasses. The humans were all willing, all wanting to feel the embrace of a Vampire, at least when it came to the touch of dead flesh, and the feeling of pleasure during the kiss. The only rule was obvious – don't kill them. Damon had no problem with this, and Nemu wasn't complaining either.
Running his hand down the chest of the woman in his lap, Nemu licked the wound his fangs had made. Drawing her scent into his nostrils, he snarled, his lips forming a wide smile. “I'm glad you indulged yourself in the coke. That tingle in your blood is unmistakeable.” Placing his hand on her chest, he tightly gripped her. “Pity I don't really miss this warmth, but on occasion, we all do. Still, at the moment, love, I am full.”
Sliding her out of his lap, Nemu carefully laid her on the seat beside him. Damon was staring at him, even has he drew blood from the neck of a feminine, yet still obviously male teenager, wearing what looked like a school uniform.
Removing his fangs, Damon licked his lips. “From what I've heard, your clan isn't the type for morality. That doesn't seem to apply to you.”
With a smile, Nemu licked his lips clean. “Perhaps not, but I tend to not think like most members of my clan. I have no need for an 'alien' look, care little for the Sabbat, and I certainly do not need a castle, or any other type of dwelling, made from flesh. I am who I wish, and nothing else. I would think that the clan elders would have an issue with me, but it is close to a hundred years since my embrace, and I haven't heard a raspy voice mentioning such yet. I doubt it will happen. Mostly since I am sure there are other examples, far worse than myself.”
With a sigh, Damon smiled. “I get it. You sure do talk quite a bit, don't you? Anyway, I don't think I'd be the best example of my clan, although I doubt that is implicitly what is wanted from me, if anything is. Still, the only thing I don't understand, is why Kamena is so bent on all of this. She has a position of power already, even if it might not be the same as the one Anne holds, and for Kamena, there aren't many more steps upwards she can take, at least not easily.”
With a nod, Nemu kept his smile. “That is the main problem. Perhaps I did not see it very well upon first meeting her, I realized it quite soon after. Meaning in the moments I spent wrapped in the arms of her naked body, her speech flowing into my ears – words that were of want, of action. Even if I had not been a Vampire for very long at that point, I still understood that this was foolish. Faith, my Sire, knew quite a bit about the Camarilla, even if she didn't support it at all, save for having a few...friends, that do. By the time I was involved with Kamena, I knew enough to know that, unless you can bring something akin to a miracle, fighting the Camarilla would be damn near the lunacy it would take to fight Caine, and believe me, it is not the same kind of lunacy that the average, or not so average Malkavian would possess.”
Damon smirked, letting out a quick laugh. “What, so the revelation is that, Kamena is no more than a power hungry bitch? What kind of twist is that? I'd think that is obvious by now.”
Nemu shook his head. “No, there is more to it than that. Not very much, but there is more. What does it involve? I'm not entirely sure yet. I'm at a point where, I would rather not, learn what the truth is, but rather drain and kill her, without a single word. But if I must have that understanding, then so be it. Anyway - “ A smile stretched across his face. “ - Maybe it requires what neither of us, nor anyone we are allies with, would know. Still, for the moment, forget the bullshit, and enjoy the atmosphere...”
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
Location : Normandy SR-2
|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Wed Jun 12, 2013 6:08 am|| |
Chapter XXI – In Medias Res
Katrina sighed. Nothing about the situation was to her liking, and even if it was true that the Prince, at least the real one, as it seemed, wasn't calling the hounds for a blood hunt, at least not one that named her as a target - that still didn't make her feel safe. Morgana's words, even if they might've been hollow, at least at that moment, they now weighed on her like the light of the sun. The Primogen, and all of the other Tremere in the city might be after her, and the idea of what Darrien had said standing with them at this point, seemed impossible. Still, she had work to do, as always.
“Claire, are you sure this report is right? Did you give him the medicine, as per his treatment?”
The woman before her sighed. “Yes. He was somewhat reluctant, but he took it. Are there any problems?”
Katrina shook her head. “No, there shouldn't be. He should be able to start recovery in a few days, and perhaps leave within two weeks, maybe three.” She put the clipboard down. With a smile to Claire, she left the office, the nurse following her until they hit the nursing station, where Katrina headed outside.
She was used to the night shift, even if it was the only one she could work. She fondly remembered her time as a nurse all those years ago, before she was embraced. Now, she only had the inclination to help people, mostly in the same way as before. It couldn't be said that she was exactly a saint, even if it hurt her to watch many patients die, knowing she could have saved them. However, if she did so, it would draw exactly the kind of attention that she could not deal with. If not simply Tremere, or hunters, the media would be bad enough. Her thinking was, that it would be one thing to be a Saint. It is another matter to be hailed as one.
Returning to her office, she sat down, her head falling onto the desk. Even after working for only four hours, she felt the same sort of fatigue that plagued her work as a human. Perhaps it was only mental, but that still didn't change the way she felt about it. Dealing with numerous patients, some trivial cases, others being the sort that have either extended stays, or very short ones, where they never leave the hospital, while knowing they are.
Standing, she walked over to the filing cabinets. Opening the top, she rifled through them, until a familiar name made her stop. Instantly, she felt the tears well. Grabbing the vanilla folder, she returned to her desk, setting it down – nearly throwing everything else on her desk to the floor, save for her computer. Opening the folder, his name became even more apparent – Damon Cross.
Reading through his treatment, her eyes widened. “What...in...the hell?”
“Only just figured it out now, did you? It's no surprise, although, I wonder why you chose to cry so much over this one loss, even when, deep down...you KNEW he wasn't dead.”
Slamming her fist onto the desk, she sighed as she saw the slight crack. The treatment wasn't exactly wrong. The problem, as it seems, was that he had either a far worse case of the disease that the medicine she had created was able to cure, or something was wrong with the last batch he was given, and instead of slowly curing his illness, it made it even worse.
Turning to her computer, she pulled up the information from the burial. Most of it seemed correct, save for one thing. The boy was indeed given the usual ceremony, having been buried at the local cemetery. However, there was a problem. There were no records of prepping the body for it, many of the usual steps involved, having been simply not done. She knew the entire process, and much of it, save for the body being placed in the coffin and buried at the close of the ceremony, every other step involved, besides dressing it up nicely, had been skipped.
“This doesn't make any sense.” She sighed.
Looking up, she suddenly noticed the room getting dark, far more than it should be. Standing, she noticed a large snake looking right at her, a laughing grin on it's face. The snake smiled, as it seemed to morph into a more human shape, although what the snake became, wasn't human.
With a smile, Kamena laughed. “Only now, do you understand. You regarded his...'death'...as a failure, believing it to be all your fault. Well, perhaps not. However, you must understand, that everything is indeed correct in those files. That is, aside for the fact that Damon is not dead...well, not like you expected upon hearing of his passing, anyway.”
Her eyes bulging, Katrina sighed. “So you went through the...very elaborate, as it seems, process of making his entire fucking family believe he was dead, all the while you had embraced him?”
The snake nodded. “Indeed. What I did not expect, is how he would act after I woke him up. Keeping him in that box for a year did nothing, as it seems. I do wonder now what I expected from someone like him, but in truth, that matters very little. Even his sister doesn't care about being embraced, and the Prince didn't even raise any concern over it, save for marking me for death. Heh, not likely.”
Katrina looked shocked “If the Prince and the Camarilla want you dead, then you can leave.”
“Ah, that is right. The local Tremere would like nothing better than to have a Salubri to kill, if not a beautiful, pale, and dead body like yours, for their experiments. As if I care. At this point, whatever bullshit issues you have with me, I do not care.”
“Then why in the FUCK are you here?”
Kamena smiled, baring fangs. “You could say it was just to get a few facts out in the open, but it is for much more. Our past dealings aside, I have an offer, to make you.”
Katrina sat down, with a scowl on her face. “I'll listen, but I will not promise I will agree to it.”
“My goal is to take this city for my clan. Wiping the Camarilla from it, is only the first step. When I do so, I will also purge those usurpers from my city as well. As such, if you chose to accept my offer, this city will be save haven for you. In return for this, I ask only one thing.”
“IF I agree, what is it that you want?” Katrina crossed her arms.
Walking up to the desk, Kamena sat her nearly naked behind on it. “You want to know, do you? Well, let's just say, that I have come to collect on a debt, although as I said, not as you might expect. There are many ways that I can extract my payment, even if mortal currency is not involved.”
Katrina snarled. “If you mean that I should help you further, then you can blow it out your ass. It is enough that I've been exposed by your bullshit, and I will not cover myself with it any further.”
Standing, Kamena smiled. “You are nothing more, than an act. You slave yourself out to these humans, using the medicines, procedures and treatments that they themselves created, to try and save those you can. It breaks your dead heart to watch them die, especially when you know your power is what could save them – but if you used it enough, then you would not be able to keep yourself hidden for very long. Did you ever think, that it is because of me, that for the last ten years, you have been able to stay here? If it wasn't for me, the Tremere would likely have you in...Vienna, is it?”
With a snarl, Katrina stood up with a force that nearly knocked over her desk. “Then I shall ask you one more time. Right here and now, WHAT IN THE FUCK, do you want?”
Keeping her smile, the snake didn't flinch. “I want you to do as you are told. I could EASILY have everything about you, become public knowledge for the Tremere, and see where that leaves you. However, you already understand this, don't you?”
“But what I want from you is simple. You will..” Kamena stopped, looking around the room as if she saw a rat.
“You tempt fate, poison snake.”
“Who in the hell are you?”
Nothing but the sound of laughter could be heard. “Maybe, I'm simply in your head. A voice given to allow your fears to be made obvious. But in truth, they have been to the start, at least to you. Those around you, they either do not care, or they cannot claim such fears.”
Kamena snarled. “Then tell me, as I already asked, who are you?”
A glassy blur become quite obvious, as seemingly nothing grabbed a hold of Kamena's neck. “You trifle with black gates, you deign to kill the dog that guards them. You, the lowly snake. Lacking in true motivation, you simply choose revenge, for the one that chose to give blood to the animal in the filth. But you care more for the fact that, no matter how prestigious you can be, there are heights you can never aspire to. In your future, as you see it, there are no crowns, there are no servants, and there is no admiration for your rule. You simply subsist within a mockery of an ancient culture, whilst you seek the darkness that your clan loves to spread. But you are different, wanting instead to discard Set for yourself, thinking that every obstacle in your way, will shatter in your presence.”
The blur faded, leaving what almost seemed to be a mirror image in Kamena's eyes, until the differences became obvious. The woman before her had a dark, yet pale skin tone, a pair of mismatched eyes, and her hair was short, one side hanging down as far as her chin, the hair itself almost covering her left eye. The other side was braided, the lines starting at her hairline, and continuing to the back of her head.
Her clothing was rather simple, being a simple leather jacket, which only went as far as to cover her breasts, the lower part of her torso being uncovered, save for the fishnet shirt she wore under the jacket. Around her waist was a leather skirt, with at least two belts at her waist.
“However, you seek a name, Anguis. I may be the bell that rings in the night, sending echoes of death across the tides of time. But these hands have never been bloodied, save for when the bell that is my voice, does not ring.”
Kamena snarled “Then what is it that you want, Malkavian? To kill me?”
Annabelle smiled. “The voice speaks, but this night, I do not seek to spill blood. Nor will you, you pestilence. But what I have for you, is this. Words that might be betrayal, but they do not seek to favor you. They favor me, and whomever I give my loyalty to.”
Tracing Kamena's jawline, Annabelle planted a kiss on Kamena's lips. “You, shall fail. Drained completely by the two souls which you regard as your biggest failures – both of them overcoming the obstacles in their way, the last of them at the end of this drama, being you. Sorry to spoil it for you, but it should be obvious to you already.”
Dropping Kamena to the floor, Annabelle backed up slightly. “But if you would falter, you should understand this. I know the desire that lies deeper than your heart. You gave it away as most women do, and still, even after he has chosen to scorn you in every way possible, you still long for his touch. The moment when, he will embrace you in his arms once again, your differences settled, that the world around you becomes irrelevant. You may yet have this, but it will not be as you hope it to be.”
Looking up, her stare seeming rather defeated, she sighed. “So I must fail. Why should I believe you?”
Raising her arms, Annabelle laughed. “I could be lying. I could be telling you this, only for you to face a completely different ending. I won't tell, so you must blindly go into the future, and see what transpires. Perhaps you will win, but not because you are the evil one. We are all Vampires, but you are simply more willing to do what the rest of us have decided, lacks in worth.”
“I should kill you right here, right now.”
Her stare turning serious, Annabelle snarled. “You've said that before. You've killed before. The boy you embraced. His sister you forced the embrace upon with blue blood. The girl you've manipulated since her own embrace, making her believe that you killed the man who embraced her, when it was you all along – and then you allowed her to die by the fangs and blade of your lover . Many times you have said that with truth, but as with the rest of your clan, in saying it to me, or anyone like me, you are a liar.”
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
Location : Normandy SR-2
|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Fri Nov 08, 2013 12:42 am|| |
Chapter XXII – Dancing with Snakes
With a laugh, Nemu looked up at the night sky. The same as always, but it was still different. Many aspects of this world, he had stared at from the moment he was able, and yet, they were always different. Mostly, because how he looked at it, how doing so felt. Still, it didn't change the fact that he could not change how his feelings towards her felt, even if had been some time since he was able to feel her touch. Did he want it? Perhaps, but not in the same way he once did.
After that night, he would spent many more sleepless, his mind focusing on her. Her body, her face, and the way she had touched him. Even if the desire wasn't physically there, it still existed. The idea of forgetting those feelings, was damn near unthinkable. But even as he thought of this, it was all tainted, because she had goals and ambitions that she wished to give to him. He would not allow her to feed him this bullshit, and thus, he chose to mostly, live alone.
It wasn't until she blackmailed a Priest of the clan, to supposedly embrace a young woman that Kamena fancied, when she herself would embrace the girl - that he really chose to go against her. Using this as an excuse to kill the Priest, she kept up the lie that Ishizu's sire had been killed. A pity, since it was this fact that finally broke Ishizu, and why she was truly limp in his arms as he drained the blood from her body. Perhaps the stake was a factor, but her words beforehand, 'Take my blood, my soul, just do not allow me to exist under her lie any longer.', were sincere enough that she didn't resist very much, even if she chose to scream as he penetrated her flesh with the silver spike, the screams dying as she settled into the peaceful repose of death.
But after Kamena embraced Ishizu, they were still distant. Although he never could fathom a reason, Ishizu went to the States, and he followed. Although unable to find her at first, a chance meeting with an interesting Malkavian lead him right to her. She put up a clever ruse, but it wasn't at all something that this lunatic couldn't see through. It certainly wasn't a fact that the local Prince was unaware of, since Ishizu was kept at arms length, if not further away, in most cases. Although more open minded than most Princes, the idea of any Kindred treating a Setite, at least one whose allegiances are yet unproven, would be an extraordinary level of foolishness.
Sitting up, he smiled. “I can see it now, Marisha. Do you think I intended on any of this? Perhaps if you had chosen as I, perhaps things would be different. But then, acting as such is what you are expected to do.”
“A snake will always slither, even when there is no reason. Even when one has legs.”
Looking up, he kept his smile. Once again, he stared into the face of that doll. Only this time, it was standing directly in front of him. “I'd chose to jump, but I don't consider you all that frightening.”
“I would certainly not ask you to, since that isn't what I would do to friends.” The doll smiled.
Leaning back, Nemu sighed. “So what is it this time?”
The doll cracked a smile, the sides of it's mouth stretching beyond the limits of the human jaw. “The pieces have nearly all fallen into place. What is left? Well, do you ask, my fiendish friend?”
Laughing, Nemu nodded. “It may be tempting fate, but somehow I doubt that you would tell me I'll be the one to face final death when this is over.”
The doll kept it's smile, crossing his arms. “Blood will be shared between lovers, making a new corpse. It's blood running with envious love, it shall fall into the arms of the self-obsessed lover, who chooses to wrongly give hate to the undead heart that she birthed into the world. This hate shall consume her, alongside the hatred from the one she loves – both shall consume her essence.”
“Exactly like I expected then. However-” Nemu stopped. Looking past the doll, he smiled. “To what to I owe the pleasure, you snakes?”
“We may not truly believe in the aims that Priestess Kamena holds. But she has marked you, not for death, but to be captured. If you will not accompany us without trouble, we will make you.”
Laughing, Nemu stood. “You think you can cart me away, with ease? I doubt that. In fact, the only one that will drift away from here would be you, and I think the wind will be able to take care of that.”
The doll laughed. “Stuck to the throne, it seems. As such, the snake sends others to do what she cannot. “ Raising his hand, the doll's eyes widened. His mouth parted into an impossible smile, as he walked toward the group of Setites. “A favor for you, my fiendish friend.” Kneeling before the Vampires, the boy smiled. “I commend thy souls to the underworld, in hopes that you may be pissed on by Set himself, for your foolishness.”
In an instant, the doll's hand emitted a mass of shadows, which grew large enough to cover both him and the Setites. The screams were nearly deafening, but as far as Nemu could tell, they were still muffled to human ears. Beyond that, whatever was happening there, he couldn't tell.
“So you lay claim to more power than your allies, for the moment. So sorry not to see that sooner.”
As she shadows dissipated, the doll was still kneeling where it was, while the group of Setites was reduced to only one. The rest were piles of ashes on the ground, save for two that were now no more than corpses. The remaining Setite snarled.
“You are no more than a puppet, used by another mind. Useful, certainly. But a trick which I saw through the moment you spoke. Time to cut the strings.” The Setite placed a ornate gold revolver to the doll's head. “Do you have any more to say, puppet?”
With a smile, the doll laughed. “It will get you nothing. What's left of this, will be very little of note, while your ashes shall be pissed on.”
The Setite laughed. “Nice idea. Perhaps I'll do just that to yours, and then the fiend's, once I'm done here.” With a smile, he pulled the trigger. With the shot, the doll fell to the ground, lifeless.
Standing, Nemu smiled. “I wonder, I have no contract to take your life, but I feel it necessary. However, if I am to do so, I need a name. If you would be so kind?”
Replacing the revolver in his jacket, he smiled. “Amenes. Not my name as a human, but we both understand that concept.”
With a snarl, Nemu laughed. “Then, let's get this over with. But you need to understand. You have made a mistake. In due time, you shall understand why.”
Amenes shrugged. “Perhaps I will. But no matter what happens, I truly do not care. It is true that we both have loyalties, but obviously, it cannot be in each other. Mine may be different than yours, as it can be said that I believe Kamena is foolish. But I would serve her, if it means that I can take her place in the future. If I cannot, either because I face final death this night, or if the Prince you've allied yourself with chooses to mark those of my clan for death in this city, so be it. It only means that I do not have to listen to Kamena any further.”
“I chose to listen to her once. I would say more about that, but I'm sure that she has either blabbed about it, or I have simply explained it far too much. Still, I understand. Tonight, one of us dies. I'd mention making a wager, but then, what is the point? Neither of us has something that the other is unwilling to give up. Lives, blood, etc. So, rather than this pointless babble, why don't we settle this – not like men, obviously, since that is a forgone conclusion – but rather like MONSTERS.” His voice went deep and raspy for the last word.
With a luscious red smile, a rather large animal nearby sat in the grass, watching the fight that unfolded before it's eyes. A soft sound emitted from it's muzzle, sounding like laughter, but it was far too foreign to human ears, should they hear it. Setting it's head down on it's paws, the beast saw no reason to intervene in the fight – unless it got closer.
“Why are you so invested in this, mum?”
A smaller animal approached, laying down near the larger one. Their bodies touching, the smaller one curled up, it's mouth emitting a low growl, almost like it was going to fall asleep, but it kept it's eyes open.
“I've been out of this for too long. No longer.”
“Fine then. I sure hope you don't intend on just sitting here. You know I'm a little restless.”
The larger animal, obviously a fox, once again seemed to laugh. “You have always been that way, Shokkosu. I can hardly say it surprises me by now.”
Shokkosu's muzzle smiled. “That's why I was embraced, I guess. I was all to willing to please you, and if I had to join you to do that, well, you know I didn't mind you getting me away from those...
Alice licked his muzzle. “Yes, I know. Feeling a bit nostalgic? Still, that is to be expected. Perhaps an offhand mention, but fitting none the less.”
“You planning on helping him, or just waiting to see what happens?”
She laughed again. “I don't know. What do you say?”
Shokkosu smiled, his muzzle emitting the same kind of laughter that she was. “What does a fox say?”
Alice didn't answer directly, instead, she started laughing. “I say...”
She stood, looking up towards the sky. With a very loud howl, she shook herself, snarling. “We bite off the head of that snake.”
Nemu laughed. “This is it? This is all you have? Well, what was I worrying about, then?”
Amenes sighed, his knees hitting the ground, his hand still clutching his blade. “Not much more than I could expect, really.” He sighed, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Little does she know, I didn't accept her bullshit to fight for her – even if she made me do so afterward. Maybe you understand – I wanted to study history, but that opportunity was dashed by that damned sickness. The fame I gained I didn't want, but my work at one of the local colleges was well known. Not much of a surprise that a Vampire would wish to seek my knowledge, even if it had nothing to do with Vampires. She didn't care.”
“So she offered you the embrace, as a way to avoid death? You must be a fool. I'd say why, but you know this by now.”
Spitting blood onto the ground, he laughed. “She expected me to help her get what she wanted. But when I didn't show any interest in helping her, she was angry at first but soon moved on to someone else. She kept me around, obviously. I was merely one of her conquests, which she sat in the halls of her haven like living trophies.”
“Makes me glad I didn't buy into any of her bullshit. Not that it mattered, since she couldn't really corrupt me. Briefly, perhaps, she did. But then she spoke words that I spat back at her. I wish now that I left her for ashes that night.” Nemu smiled as he heard a loud howl. “You haven't noticed that we have an...audience, have you?”
Amenes snorted, shaking his head. “I've been more preoccupied with you. Still, I've felt that we weren't alone. Does it really matter? You think, at this point, I care if it is you, or someone else that kills me?”
“I see not. So that means you have some kind of death wish, snake?” Alice stepped out of the trees, her long kimono flowing in the light breeze behind her.
Smiling, the snake sighed. “The Gangrel Primogen. A surprise, certainly, but you know...it's actually a welcome one – even if this can be likened to bad joke. A snake, a fox, and a monster...” Spitting up more blood, he snarled. “Dammit...to think I just cared enough...All she cared about was her bitch of a Sire, how Mithras, or whoever the fuck was Prince then, killed her. I never cared about that. Kamena was just blind enough to THINK I did.”
Nemu snorted. “That is how she is. So long as she believes someone will cooperate, and they seem to when it counts, it doesn't matter to her if they are displeased with the situation. Even when I told her to fuck off, she still tried to plead with me. Hell, even in that cemetery, she still acted like I'd go along with her. HAH.”
Alice snarled. “Nice story. Anything else to say?”
Shaking his head, Amenes let go of his weapon. “As if I want to waste my breath on that bitch any more. Get on with it, if you please.”
Nemu shrugged. “So, you want him or should I finish him off?”
“Given that your efforts have set this scene...” She briefly started at Amenes, who seemed to be trying to fight off going into frenzy. “...you should close the curtain.”
With a nod, he licked his fangs. “Then, so I shall.”
Kneeling next to Amenes, he laughed. “I view her blood as poison. No offense to you, but I don't want any of it, even from her childer. I plan to make only one exception in the future, when I kill her.” Standing, he flourished his blade. “Curtains, scholar.”
Swiping his blade across the snake's neck, the head barely moved, before it and the body it was previously attached to, burst into embers. Taking a cloth from his pocket, Nemu slid it up the length of his sword, cleaning the blade of blood. Throwing the cloth into the pyre, he smiled.
“Too bad these snakes can be akin to Hydra in this city. Always two more to kill.” Sliding the length of his sword across the sheath, he slowly slid it into it, causing a slight 'click' once it was fully inside. “So, how much longer do you think this is going to go on for?”
Alice shrugged. “I can't say. I know Anne is getting restless, which I am sure you have seen. This dance isn't going to go on much longer, else the Queen stops it personally.”
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
Location : Normandy SR-2
|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Thu Aug 28, 2014 1:52 am|| |
Chapter XXIII – Speak Thine Name
Closing the door behind him, Damon couldn't help but feel almost as if asking was part of some larger plan, but it really wasn't. As simple as it was, he had taken some time to return to the estate, and even now, only a very short distance between him and Reyes, he was lingering near the front door. Why, exactly, he didn't know. There wasn't much of a reason to hesitate, Reyes had long since expressed his want, and with Anne accepting his request, nothing was likely to stop the embrace.
With a sigh, he removed his jacket, hanging it up in the closet in the entrance hall. Just as he walked out of it, Kami walked by, a sly smile on his face.
“I take it that Anne has...accepted?”
Damon nodded. “Not easily. She said I could, but I have to deal with Kamena, to make it official. If I don't, then she gets to kill me.”
Kami smiled, drawing air into his mouth. “Tense. Any plans?”
“Eh...not really. I wasn't exactly planning on doing it so soon, but there isn't anything in the way of it.”
The boy laughed. “Then go ride the horse, if nothing is stopping you.” He walked away, laughing as he realized what he just said.
Smiling and nodding briefly, he crossed the room, ascending the stairs. Once he reached the door handle, it seemed somewhat final. Touching it, and entering the room meant that he himself would end the life of another, and bring them into a completely different one. Still, even as the thought crossed his mind, several times in fact, it was pointless to give it any weight. If there was anything left for Reyes to experience as a human, he would not. The final experience as a human he would have, would be death.
Touching his hand to the metal, he turned it, opening the door. Closing it behind him, he stared at the bed. Reyes lay sleeping, his fair skinned and lithe body snuggled into the black silken sheets. His clothing was somewhat revealing, showing of most of his chest, and the silk trousers were either pulled down on his waist, or they were made to be worn that way.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he threw it in a nearby chair, turning to the mirror hanging on the closet door. With a laugh, he noticed the tray on the table. The sight of it wasn't unusual, but given the time, it was different. As much as he knew, the obvious was, that he did not care.
Sitting on the bed, he grabbed the stereo remote, putting on something fitting for the situation. With a smile that he could almost feel bleed onto his face, he climbed into the bed, softly planting a kiss on Reyes' cheek, while laying next to him. “Sorry to wake you.”
With a smile, Reyes opened his eyes. “Don't be. I was awake, and watching you undress. I've been waiting for you – I know what she said.” He touched Damon's face. “I meant what I said in the shower, so there is nothing in the way anymore.”
Pulling him closer, the two kissed, Reyes sticking his tongue into Damon's mouth. It was nothing new, although this time, it seemed to be a bit more about jealousy. It wasn't so much a slathering of tongues, but rather Reyes' feeling around for Damon's fangs.
“No need to feel so jealous. You will have you own, soon enough.” Damon sat up, as Reyes did the same. “Are you sure you are ready for-”
Placing a finger on Damon's lips, Reyes climbed into his lap. “I want everything. You, and your fangs inside of me, as I drink your blood. I want to feel and be like you.”
“You're on thin fucking ice now. Cry, scream, beg all you like – none of it is going to matter.”
Smiling, he bared his fangs. “All those bloody insults, all the pandering to your ego – never thought it would come to this, did you? Beaten and bloodied, by the boy who you saw fit to sink so low, the idea of being male was close to repulsive? But the pride was still present, and thus, I kept my dick, but hid it behind the panties and the skirt. Why? It's my pride. Why rid myself of that? Doesn't matter if I went for the trap route, as some took that very well. Even most of those teachers didn't give a damn, most of them falling for it. Pity some were interested, because I wasn't. Who would be, in a bunch of old perverts?”
Grabbing the last of the boys by the neck, Reyes snarled. “How, does it feel? To completely lack any kind of power? You have muscle, but in comparison...there is none. I could have my way with you, satisfying both my appetite and my body. It would be a nice send off, and perhaps more of a merciful end than you deserve. What do you say?”
With a smile, Reyes' mouth stretched open in laughter. “Ah, you've found fear – and the tape certainly does wonders to shut someone like you up. I could choose to corrupt you – to bend you to my will. But then, you are...disgusting. Enough that, to do any more than kill you, would be nothing more than a chore. Thus...you have chosen your fate, even if, perhaps, it started some time ago.”
Sinking his fangs into flesh, the satisfaction seemed the same as any orgasm, only this time, it would not fade. The fucks who had, for a time, shaped his life, had lost their own. A pity, perhaps, but it would be insane to think someone would miss them. He certainly would not.
“You do not seek to corrupt...but you can. To change your wishes, may indeed be folly, but there are various ways to spread darkness – you chose your sort. Still, you can be of use, to me. You are of my blood, and that is enough.”
Standing, Reyes licked blood from the wound, his elation becoming nearly palpable. With a smile, he dropped the corpse, stepping over it as his tongue ran over his lips, and his teeth. Looking over his work, he felt no change. No remorse, for those who had, even for a brief, yet changing moment, made his life hell. Made him look at his body like a aberration, like something he should be ashamed of. Even if he quickly questioned why, the damage was done. Now, he thought, none of it mattered. At least, none of the anger, as the sight of their corpses made that fade away.
“YES. You drink the power of darkness, you revel in this bloodshed. But there is more, child.”
The voice he heard was like a poison, spreading itself through his body. But rather than pain, it was like a vibration, which only caused pleasure. His smile only became wider, even when he turned his head, to see a figure standing in the darkness, a pair of red eyes, and the shine of it's body giving it away.
In an instant, everything changed. The ground became a deep red sand, which Reyes could suddenly feel beneath his uncovered feet. The sidewalks, the trees, and everything else seemed to disappear, leaving nothing but a vast desert, save for what looked like an ancient city in the distance. The dark sky suddenly lit up in cold tones, yet the most prevalent color, was red.
Looking at himself, he was not wearing his usual clothes. Most of his body was uncovered, which he could feel himself adjusting to, but it was pleasing. Around his waist was a belted skirt, with an eye shape at the front, and a cross-like symbol dangling from it, although the top was a loop, rather than a straight line. Around his shoulders was a mantle, with a similar eye shape over his chest, and various jewels. His wrists had bracers around them, covering his lower arms, and they were covered with jewels as well.
“You see, do you not? You have the chance to cast off the legacy that leads to preparation for death. Rather, you may be prepared for something else entirely, by me.”
The figure was closer now, and it could be seen much more clearly. It's body was taller than Reyes', and much more muscular. It's skin was a deep red, and it's face, was like that of a dog, but much thinner towards the muzzle. In truth, it did not look much like a dog at all, the more he looked at it. It's eyes were a soft gold, and staring directly at Reyes.
“Who are you?” His question seemed almost pointless, but upon speaking it, the...creature smiled.
“I? I am your forefather...the one who began the legacy that will run in your veins.” He reached for Reyes with a pair of clawed hands, the smile on it's face growing wider. “I AM SET.”
“Who....Oh!” He started to question, but then Set grabbed him by the neck, lifting him from the sand.
“Your lack of knowledge is of no consequence. I believe you may resist, but then, there would be no point. Now...” He pulled Reyes close. “...the chains of Osiris, the bondage to legacy by my own son, are no longer upon you. You shall take MY legacy, and become one of my blood, of my children.” Putting Reyes down, Set's smile returned.
“What do you want?”
“I already have what I want – you. You have made your choice, and thus, you are mine. All that is left...” Grabbing the top of Reyes' head, Set smiled as he forced the boy to look downwards. He watched as a certain, interest seemed to enter the boy's eyes, his kneeling not at all forced. “It is a free offer – a nectar of the finest crimson for you. Surely this is something you are no stranger to...”
A fanged smile ran across Set's thin, canine-like face. “Consume from me, and you shall forever find pleasure...”
Opening his eyes, he realized that his head was laying on Damon's chest. Although nothing new, before he would always have to cringe upon waking up, as he suddenly felt a rather cold body laying next to him. But now, the feeling was absent. Curious, he traced his tongue around his teeth, finding two obstructions on the top set. As much as it didn't seem real, it was hard to forget what had happened.
Sitting up, he stretched a bit, pulling the sheets off of himself, but leaving them on Damon. Moving to the edge of the bed, he thought that this was nothing like the movies, but then again, considering some of them, he was glad of it.
Standing, he moved over to the desk, staring at the glass decanter, sitting in an ice bucket. It sat on a silver tray, with at least two scotch glasses beside it. The decanter itself was filled with blood, which he stared at like a frat boy eying up a bottle of some “club swill”, or so he'd heard Makrev call the stuff once. For him, though, it was more like something divine, something that would do far more than bring enjoyment. It would bring feelings, emotions, and a satisfaction that he had yet to know. It was obvious that the first taste would be far better than drinking Damon's blood, although that was satisfying in a different way.
Filling a glass half way, he picked it up, swirling the thick liquid. It seemed odd to consider where it once was, and what it would be used for. Every obvious thought ran though his mind, and while for some, it would take a nearly immeasurable amount of convincing, he needed none. It was something he wanted to commit to, if it meant escape from the bullshit that had been his life, and a connection to someone he found feelings for so long ago.
Tipping the glass to his lips, he could not help but smile as it poured down his throat. Through this, he snarled. The sound of it, the feeling, he could hardly help but feel pleasure beyond even his most drugged up, fucked up round of sex. He almost felt like his veins lit on fire, as if every cell, down to the atoms, was being pleasured in the most deviant of ways.
Setting the glass down, he sat in one of the chairs. The feeling was not quick to go away, but it seemed to slowly fade. From what he had been told, drugged up humans would be an interest, but the blood itself seemed to work fine. His only worry was the possibility that he'd have to give up sex completely. Makrev laughed when he mentioned it, but quickly mentioned that it was still possible, if a bit different.
Placing a hand on his stomach, it seemed to be true. His breathing seemed slower, although calling it that seemed wrong. The flow of his blood felt slower too, even if the rush of it falling down his throat made it feel as before. Sliding his hand lower, he snorted as he remembered the time in the bathroom, shaving all the bloody hair off, even if he was lucky enough not to have any on his legs. Much as he had thought about it before, he worried about something going wrong. Actually, the one who turned him on to doing it was Liz, and she was all to happy about getting into his pants, even if it was not really for sex. She could not help feeling him up, admiring everything she saw, which would be everything. He had to laugh for a moment when he realized that she somehow shaved out the word “Boi” in cursive, before she shaved that off too.
She mentioned to him that she would have a little more fun with him, but she would save that for Damon to take care of. But she did take the time to shower with him, which was more 'helping' on her part, acting like a mother taking care of her child in such a way. He didn't mind, since she wasn't overbearing or judgmental, which he had enough of before. Still, this helped him a bit, since it seemed that Liz was, okay with him. So now it was a handful of people that accepted him, and thinking of it like that made it worse, as it was not how he really intended it. Not back in school, and certainly not now.
Looking around, he started laughing softly. While he did have certain, ideas, they were not likely to be as violent, as his dream was. If it was even a dream at all, he couldn't tell. Somehow, only the last part of it seemed real, while the rest was nothing more than a dream. He would like to know if someone knew what it was, or if Damon had seen something similar. Kamena might be a source of information, but that seemed unlikely.
“You are conflicted, young snake. You doubt, even if it is slowly fading from your grasping hands. Why are you holding into it?”
Turning his head, he could not help but stare at what he saw. It wasn't attraction, but awe. He could have mistook her for a Setite, given her appearance, but she did not seem so. Rather, she seemed to be something else. Whatever it was, he could not tell. The only obvious thing, was her eyes. The left was pure white, save for the black ring that encircled her iris, and her right was a cold, piercing violet.
“I think someone mentioned you...Annabelle, right?”
She nodded, as she slowly walked towards him. “Yes, and I know much about you. You seem a follower, someone who stands by, but does not ever lead. This is false. You want to stand up for yourself, alongside the strong ones you have come to know. However, thus far, you have not had the chance.”
Reyes sighed. “I do. But what if I...”
With a smile, she laughed. “You worry, if your dream will come true. If you will carry out your revenge, as you wish.” Instead of answering further, she pulled one of the other chairs, and sat down. “That is your choice. The future holds much for you, but if it holds a bloody penance for those who wronged you, it depends on if you act to bring such a thing about.”
“You want me to choose? You want me to decide for myself if I wish to go after those assholes?”
She didn't nod. “My intent, is not to make you chose. You could easily do nothing, and things may proceed without you needing to do so. However, the issue may be forced, in which case, the choice would fall to you. It is not about casting blame, since I have already said that I agree with your feelings.”
Setting the glass down, he laughed. “Maybe I will. I don't know. I wouldn't want to force Damon to do it, since it is my problem...one he never had.”
“Why would you think that choice, is a problem?”
He looked up at her.”Why wouldn't it be? Maybe they just didn't understand, maybe they didn't like it. Either way, I would have been fine if they just left me alone. But they had to speak. They had to care just enough, that I...could say nothing. I could only...hide.”
She stood, grabbing him around the waist, pulling him close. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she gently caressed them. “You have a voice. You stand in a place where many have, but all of them did one very simple thing. They found their voice. If you must snarl, if you must yell, then do so. Even if it is only your actions that speak for you, then it is enough.”
“So I just...say it? I just admit it?”
She shook her head. “No, you have already become content. You have accepted his affections, and he, yours. But that is not the problem. You worry about how that changes, now that you have accepted his blood.”
“Does it?” His eyes started to well up in red, as he spoke.
Looking into his eyes, she smiled. “If you can still speak, no. Accept what you love, accept what you are, and you, at least, will find truth. Should others find it, then they are wiser for it, since they chose to listen, and perhaps, understand.”
Sitting him back down, she nodded as she walked toward the door. His mind was racing, trying to take what she had said in. It was true, since only now he remembered what was said of her. Still, one thing was unclear.
“I know how this sounds, but...is it a happy ending, or will this end badly?” He wiped his face with the wet towel that sat near the ice bucket.
She turned, smiling. “A loved one will be lost. But you need not worry.”
Last edited by Maxus Corvin on Thu Nov 05, 2015 6:06 am; edited 1 time in total
Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 28
Location : Normandy SR-2
|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight Mon Jan 26, 2015 11:52 am|| |
Chapter XXIV – Desire to Get...Wet?
“So you continue to act the part of a fool. Perhaps you might not be to blame for embracing Elizabeth without the proper permissions, but to ALLOW a Setite to freely come and go within your haven?”
Watching as Morgana slowly walked around the edge of the pool, he knew that she somehow felt betrayed, concerning almost everything that he and Anne were doing. Not that it really mattered, since none of it really affected her, but that was not her problem. She seemed much like the humans who would cause controversy about movies, music, or video games, when they know very little about the subject, and their real concern is not the revelation of a problem, but rather the demonization of a medium, either due to the slow fade of their interest, or due to their dislike, if not hatred of the new forms of entertainment.
But with Morgana, her concern was with tradition, which he could respect – to a point. Even so, he could not agree that in this instance, the facts were simple. Were it any of the Camarilla clans that sired without permission, a pass may be given, but there would still be those who clamor for punishment, even if they can agree that the new Kindred and their Sire can still be of use to the Camarilla. She would not care about use, but only about the committed crime.
Makrev sighed. “Of course. Given the situation, I feel it is only appropriate. Just the same as I would welcome the company of Alice, yourself, or even Shokkosu-” He pointed at the other end of the pool, where Shokkosu was swimming.”-I see no reason to do anything else. You may be heartless, but I am not. After all, Damon has proven to the Prince that he does not have any wish to go against her, the Camarilla, or any other Kindred in this city – save for Kamena, of course. The only way he might clash with other Kindred, would be with his ideology. Which, unless other kindred see a problem with the proclivity for his own gender, then I do not see any problems coming out of this. Given that there are Kindred, Ventrue, and otherwise, who have far more... deviant interests.”
Morgana snarled. “He should be so lucky.”
With a smile, he sat up. “Well, there is also the fact that Anne has given him permission to Embrace, provided that he deals with Kamena – although she wasn't very specific as to when he should or can, just that he does as he was instructed.”
“SHE DID WHAT!?”
Makrev sighed. “How often do you have delusions that you are Prince of this city, MORGANA? I don't believe that you really need to be reminded that you are a Tremere Primogen and Regent, and nothing more. The future may hold more for you, but you tend to do nothing more than anger others with your zeal. This aside, it is done. I haven't known Anne to change her mind so easily, if at all.”
“Delusions? Is that what you have chosen to call my differing opinion? If it were my choice, I would have staked the boy the moment he was captured, extracted any and all information from him, and then left him for the next dawn to deal with.”
Makrev stood. “Do I need to remind you, to SHUT UP. If so, then understand that this attitude of yours needs to change. But then, I can see why you might be so zealous, given the insanity that must plague your mind, being so close to the Tremere elders. Utterly unable to go against them, save for when they allow it – although I doubt they ever do. That aside, I know the little secret you've hidden for some time, even if most either don't care, or simply don't know.”
“What exactly is it, that you think you know?”
He smiled. “You know the rumors. Though the are certainly stifled in many ways, there are still those that talk – and are willing, given the right payment. They vary, from you perhaps being a Baali, which I would find unlikely, given your devotion to the clan, and very little I have seen you do would subvert it's interests, and of course, there is the curiosity that lies with your trip to America. For some reason, before the Country even had its revolution, you traveled there. Not only that, but you brought back with you a childe – daughter of someone given both fame, and infamy. One little known, in fact. Some even suggest, that perhaps you, where behind the events in Salem, that year.”
She smiled. “If I was, who do you think it matters to?”
Makrev shrugged. “If it mattered to Etrius, or Merrlinda, I am sure they would have intervened then, especially the latter. I heard that even Merrlinda took a childe from the Colonies during the Revolution, although that seems less suspect.”
“Yes, she did. Have you considered that much of what transpired there, was not my doing? Rather, my goal was to start our clan's base of power in the Colonies, although it was not as successful as I hoped. I insisted for it, and Merrlinda and Etrius agreed. If you were looking for my secret, it is only that my failure in that endeavor lead to Merrlinda herself taking up that cause, gaining herself a powerful and willing childe, alongside defining the clan's presence in the new world, as the Country fought to exist.”
He nodded. “Not what I was expecting, but then, some rumors tend to be worse, and sometimes, nothing but lies. Still, you should understand that Anne's decision is not the problem you believe it to be.”
“Perhaps it is not. But do you really think-”
Makrev snarled. “Why do I have to consider every fucking choice Anne makes? You should know already that, thus far, she has made no decisions that directly affect me, save for her allowing Elizabeth's embrace, as unconventional as it was. I may support her choices, even if that may be no more than the fact that I have chosen to not contest them.”
She sighed. Rather than saying anything, she turned to leave. “Then perhaps my role in this, is over – at least, for the moment. If I have no stake in this, however, then my support will not be given, should the end of this be a confrontation. Unless Anne herself asks, then I will continue to deal with my own affairs, and nothing else.” She waved, and left the room.
With a smile, Makrev laid back in his chair, not surprised by the sight of Shokkosu laughing at what he heard of the conversation. Laughing himself, he smiled. “What else is there to say, really?”
Taking a filled wine glass from the nearby table, he sipped it, watching as Damon entered the room. He couldn't help but crack a smile, his lips never leaving the rim of the glass, since he could tell that something had changed. The look on Damon's face said as much, and what had, was obvious.
Taking a seat in the chair near Liz, Damon sighed. Turning his head towards her, his eyes nearly bulged. The sight of her in that black bikini interested him, his preferences be damned. The top piece had a fanged skull on the fabric covering her breasts, and the bottom had the same decal, only this one had blood dripping from the fangs.
Pushing her sunglasses up, she smiled. “Drink it in, Onii-chan. In fact, want a taste?”
A smile stretching across his face, he licked his lips. “You have no idea. Fun as that was, it made me feel even more drained than havin' a wank. Never-mind anything else.”
“What have you...oh you naughty boy.”
He sighed. “So we fucked. You think I give a damn if you know?”
Liz shook her head. “I would not call it a secret, although I doubt anyone here cares. Your balls are easy to bust, in both ways.”
Damon smiled. “Just as long as it is either jokes, or feels damn good, yeah.”
She sighed. “Even if it is painful, you know they would grow back. So you don't have to worry about growing a pair.”
“Right – I still would rather them not crushed or ripped off. About that taste-”
Standing, she placed her legs over his chair, and sat her butt on his legs. “Aw, did you think I was joking?” She placed her hands on his chest, running them up to his chin. “I am not that kind of tease. In fact, I do not like teasing. I prefer giving what is wanted, not faking someone out. If I want to give it, that is.”
“I am not going to complain, if you do.” He pulled her closer, her crotch stopping over his. “Like old times, eh sis?”
Kissing his cheek, she smiled. “Yes, and now we don't have our parents to get pissed – or anyone else. Now, I do not care. We've both went through what might as well be hell to get here, and before we face more, I don't care if someone gives a fuck that we enjoy ourselves like this. Although...”
Shaking his head, Damon kissed her lips deeply, placing his arms around her back. “No, he won't care. If he comes in, I'm sure he would just join in. Then, I doubt you will care either.”
She both nodded, and smiled. “Well, I certainly would not. Actually, he was the one who...asked me to help him shave. You see what he's got? The whole snake thing fits for him, probably a Cobra. I should get him a necklace or something...maybe a nice pair of panties with a...well, you know.”
He had to laugh. “You know, I don't think anyone else could say 'My sister is a slut', the same way I could. Mostly because I'd be damn serious about it, and obviously not ashamed of it.”
Liz licked his cheek, smiling. “The last thing we are, would be role models. So we are fucked up. We also drink human blood. Which do you think is worse?”
Damon shrugged. “Some would say the 'fucking' part – just like how most don't care if a movie is violent, unless someone is naked at some point . I don't really care. I died for this, and I will fight and fuck to keep it.”
“You know, I like how you describe that. Pity many Vampires do not understand such things.”
Both of them turned to see Shokkosu holding onto the edge of the pool, his hair dripping wet. Damon smiled. “Better like that, than anything else.
With a nod, he smiled, showing off his teeth, each set a row of fangs. “You could say sex is where my life really started, and ended. They only gave a damn about me once I was willing, and when I really mattered to someone, my life ended.”
Liz slipped off Damon, standing. “You mean, Alice, right?”
Keeping his smile, Shokkosu nodded. “You would think, or rather, some would think that spending five years in a Meji-era brothel, one of the last of it's kind, would be more damaging. To others, perhaps. But for me, I chose the one thing that most do not want – acceptance. Not the famous syndrome, but I chose to give myself to the feeling, and not those who employed me.”
Damon sat up, stretching. “Was Alice there to...well, you know....?”
Shokkosu pulled himself out of the water, revealing the fact that he was clad only in a one-piece bathing suit, only it seemed that it was actually two, since the top was more like a sleeveless shirt, and it covered the top of the speedo-like bottom. “Yes. Not exactly her first choice, but given my...promiscuity, or rather how I did not have preconceptions she saw in every other that she encountered during her visit, she agreed. However, it was not purely for that alone.”
Staring at the beautiful woman, he could do little. Laid out on the bed like an empress, she beckoned to him, her very gaze doing more to move him than her words. Every thought that he would usually have was absent, and all he could focus on was her.
She stopped him as he spoke, climbing into the bed next to her. Her own words were enough to freeze him, more so than the touch of her naked body. “What I am looking for, I already have.”
Holding him close to her chest, she sniffed his hair. Her hands caressed his back, sending a charge through his body. “I can feel it, you know. Even with your acceptance, there is still something wrong. A worry that things can change, and not in a way that favors you. You have strength, but the doubts you have will greatly diminish it when truly needed.”
He looked at her. The room was not cold, the summer night being quite muggy, and yet, she seemed to feel as the cold in a fresh snowfall. “Why are you so cold, Alice?”
“Perhaps you already know. I am not human, but not something any local legends will help explain. They would only confuse, or consider me worse than I am. But know that I do not seek to harm you, at least not in the same way as, they, would.”
Shokkosu sounded puzzled when he spoke. “They?”
Alice softly rubbed his head. “Perhaps you have seen them. Arrogant, self-centered, and empty. Obsessed with finding their purpose. A matter of perspective, but from my own, I can have nothing but a poisonous loathing for them.”
“So you are...a monster?”
“Monsters do not feel. They do not care. They wish to survive. About you, about myself, I care. Enough that I would seek to give you power of your own.” She sat up, still holding him tight to her chest.
“You may not wish to leave here, but I can offer you much more than this place.”
He smiled. Even with what she was telling him, even with her cold embrace, he still felt somehow warm, safe. What she promised seemed to be something he wished to feel. “And...in return...?”
She kissed his forehead. “Forgive me, but for this, you will face what brings fear into the hearts of men...” Moving her head to his shoulder, she placed her mouth on his neck, slowly sinking her fangs into his skin. “....you will die.”
He felt the sharp pain of something stabbing into his flesh, along with the pulsing motions from the woman's neck against his. The pain of the bite was momentary, soon replaced by an intense pleasure, which made it seem an encounter like any other, as his body reacted the same way. The only difference was the position, and the fact that very few had control over him as this woman seemed to. Not only was she in control, but she made him feel as if such a thing was fine.
Laying him down on the pillows, she once again kissed his forehead, her lips stained with blood, a dribble of it sliding down the side of her chin. Inhaling his scent, she placed her hand on the underside of her breast, slowly running her thumb across the flesh just above her nipple. The wound it created quickly bled, dripping to the point where it started to fall into his face. She laughed, placing her nipple before his mouth.
In this instant, a long forgotten emotion dredged itself to the surface. Long separated from his mother, this longing was one that he would have once considered childish, something he had no wish to feel again. But here, now, it seemed right to give in. To feed.
Watching him take the supple flesh into his mouth, feeling the muscles in his mouth tense, drawing in the blood, she moaned. “Yes....drink from me, and I will show you forever.”
Shokkosu laughed. “Her next move after my embrace, was for me to feed. Oh, how they acted. Every single one of the men who saw me either reacted in fear, or they acted as my employer, thinking I was still playing by their rules. Ever so sweet, however, was the one who so casually pulled me into the profession. How she screamed upon seeing me. I still remember the feeling of her body against mine, how she acted when I touched her, and how it felt when I was gulping down her blood.”
Liz snorted. “You realize that you are drooling, right?”
Wiping his mouth, he chuckled. “Sorry. It is a, rather vivid memory. You could say it, turns me on, in a way.” He reached down to his swimsuit, adjusting the front.
“Did Alice get the scar before or after this?” Liz asked, her face softly flushing red.
Shokkosu snarled. “Before. Unlike how it may seem, she was not the only one to get one, either.”
He turned around, grabbing the back of his suit, pulling up the 'shirt'. From his shoulder-blades to the middle of his back, a large, bat-like scar was etched, the edges looking burned. Rather than the face looking like that of a bat, it looked like it was a fox with bat-like wings. “They did not hold me long, as I would not be held. Them doing this, did not help their case. Once free, I drained two of them to death, which was both a meal I savored while I drank, and reviled the possibility of being tainted by it, once I finished.”
Damon shrugged. “The way it sounds, I would rather not meet one of these things.”
“Their words would sting, before their blades.” He sighed. “I killed a fair few, along with Alice. It was ten years after my embrace that we finally left that country, and....well, I can only say that a more recent visit was much more pleasant.”
Sitting back on the same chair she had been on previously, Liz sighed. “Better a row with a Setite, than with one of those things. Eh, I guess even this problem is just as bad.”
“Not incorrect, but Kamena is, if nothing else, predictable. If only because this story is not new, as most, and may very well end soon.”
Damon and Liz turned their head, both surprised to see Annabelle lounging on the chair closest to Liz, but she was laying on it with her feet on the head rest, her hands holding a graphic novel, which to Damon, it looked as if she was reading backwards. The cover displayed someone with blonde, spiky hair, wearing a long red trench-coat. Shokkosu only smiled, as it seemed he was already aware that she was there.
“I would certainly hope so. I would love to get that bitch off my ass, and out of my head.”
Liz snorted at Damon's comment. “You know she did bite me, right? But I can say that same thing.” She snorted again, realizing that she should know the same thing happened to him as well. With a sigh, she shrugged.
Annabelle smiled, easily righting herself in the chair, and closing her book, a finger stuck in the pages.
“You may wash yourselves free of the bloodshed you have faced previously, and breathe, for a time. But soon, the bell rings, and it begins again. This time, the ring will be constant, but perhaps, short.”
Standing, Damon sighed. Walking over to Annabelle, he watched her stand with a smile as he grabbed her by the neck. “Everything I've heard you say, it has been nothing more than vague allusions and riddles. Can you speak plainly for once?”
She did not flinch, nor lose her smile. “I see. You want the truth? Your sire has been betrayed, many times over. She has felt every negative emotion known to kindred and kin, but her action does not speak for growth, but of a child that wishes for petty revenge.”
“What will she do?” Damon lowered his hand.
“She will take what you love to where the doctor finds his darkness, and there shall she find her own end.” Annabelle softly ran her hand down Damon's cheek. “Soon you shall meet the fiend, and we shall see if the night will prove your love true.”
|Subject: Re: VtM: Moonlight || |