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Post by The Wolfman on May 7, 2008 12:08:28 GMT -8
OOC: you like it dont you chicka!?
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Post by Her Royal Highness on May 7, 2008 16:19:01 GMT -8
ooc: haha. i'm intrigued, certainly. I actually started developing a charrie for this last night but i haven't totally figured her out yet
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Post by theliontamer♥ on May 19, 2008 14:41:37 GMT -8
And the dark haired vampire was drawn immediately back into an era long past. The deserted hall transformed itself, the ancient cobwebs and rusted relics disappeared, newly crafter though just as ominous. The terror did not lessen. The horror did not fade. Kanika let her eyes sweep across the moonlit chamber, ending with a distorted shadow sitting in the furthest corner. Any other than she would not recognize the shapeless figure, but as she gazed upon it, a haunting and beautiful melody filled the room, lamenting a past that no longer seemed real.
Her silent memory was interrupted by Lucian's voice, and as he spoke the echo shook the silence that had undoubtedly reigned for many years. She merely nodded, looking back to him, letting him play once more without speaking. And the melody was exactly as she had remembered; sad, haunting, and undeniably beautiful. The halls that hid in the darkness resonated with the distant memory and once again jumped to life. As the idea and the memory brought the long dead chambers to life, Kanika felt a jolting and unreasonable spasm of fear. Nothing frightened her--her beautiful immortality protected her and she had not feared for centuries. So why now did she shrink towards the wall, her eyes never leaving the dusty pipe organ that Lucian so lovingly cradled in his arms?
What could he want of her? Why should he choose now to look for her? "Why did you bring me here?" she finally asked, speaking softly over the music. Her voice, though quiet, held no musical harmony. Against the rich, dark tune her voice fell flat, rough, angry.
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Post by The Wolfman on May 19, 2008 23:55:04 GMT -8
Lucain ended his Organ piece with 3 long thought out chord's each of them getting more demented and twisted with his facial expression's and as he glanced up at Kanika she saw that horror that was running though his mind all the horrible thing's they had done back in there youth of immortality and all the beautiful thing's they had done.
As he sat up from his stool, the sound of the sole's of his fine leather shoe's aginst the cobble stone floor echoed though the passages as the final note's faded like ghost's of long forgotten memorys, He took a few step's toward's a table and picked but a fine leather bound book with the crest of his family and handed it to Kanika, he told her that this is a record of all the thought's a memory's he has collect over the year's since that ill fated day that they became torn apart by the great first war.
As Lucian sat back down at his Pipe organ he told Kanika " I have brought you here because there is going to be another war , I belive and i wish and hope that after it is over you will be safe and we could be together again" and as he said that he turned his back to Kanika and contuned to play.
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Post by glamorousgnome on Jun 3, 2008 7:50:18 GMT -8
"One hour Shawn," Fausto agreed softly. Somewhere on his belt he felt his weapon shift, and so began to rearrange his weapons:
a dagger, the old fashioned pistol, the switchblade, and the ever popular modern handgun, sleek, sexy, not a scratch on it, and Fausto caressed it with these thoughts.
Moving away from his belt and grinning toothily at Labienus, he strode forward toward the door of the tavern, abandoning his only partial enjoyed liquor for a glimpse at the dangerous, outside world.
"Walk faster, Labienus," he growled impatiently, "We have a lot of ground to cover in sixty minutes."
So he was angry. Why would Shawn leave him like this? With a human? Humans could lag behind, drag down the pace, stretch this night longer than it needed to be. And Labienus, he didn't trust him. Yes, Labienus never touched Shawn- but why? He preferred humans and slayers that did not hide their motives, that simply killed instead of played the wolf in sheep's wool. He did not trust him at all. Dragging him along on this little search party made him feel responsible, when he was always only responsibly for himself. He didn't like the extra baggage. Damn human. Would Shawn even care if he sucked him dry right now?
But he resisted the temptation, and waved Labienus onward.
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Post by theliontamer♥ on Jun 3, 2008 14:08:58 GMT -8
The leather slid through her icy fingers, and she caressed the dark memories held within as the final chords faded into the darkness. The beauty and emotion that had resonated, so pure, became quickly entwined with the horrible memories contained within the yellowed pages, both terrible. Kanika's eyes skimmed the pages, and, like the horrible notes that had not yet died in the air, she could not be sure these words were real. They stared up at her, each one a biting reminder of a gruesome past.
"How can you say that?" she asked softly, the pages fluttering lightly as she let it fall closed. She turned it over in her hands as she deliberated. The music started up again and she had to struggle to keep the notes from consuming her mind. "There will always be war," she sighed softly, her raven eyes perturbed. And suddenly the softness that they had been shrouded in since their meeting lifted, and Kanika let the journal fall onto the table with a dulled thud. "Can you really hope for such a thing? For that life?"
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Post by The Wolfman on Jun 3, 2008 20:55:13 GMT -8
The word's exploded in Lucian's ear's like atom bomb's that had just been dropped on a innocent city, Lucian sat immediatly from the organ and let out a huge growl that was growing in his chest, "How could you not wish for that kind of life," he yelled in anger "Dont you wish that life would be like it was?! Before all the war's!?"
Lucian begin to shake with anger and frustraiton, "how could he let her understand his motives? what were her motives!? was she the one trying to keep the war's going!?" Lucian dropped to his knee's and suddenly bust from his clothing and suddenly there stood him, in all his mighty glory as a dark black beast that seemed like it came from the bowl's of hell itself, his deep blue eye's turning into a dark jet black and the fur that covered his body was a dark brown.
Luciand stood up and looked at Kanika and let out a large defining growl and jumped toward's one of the stained glass window's and went out into the early night,leaving Kanika alone.
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Post by theliontamer♥ on Jun 3, 2008 23:01:33 GMT -8
ooC: i'm so excited about their relationship....this is going to be awesome!
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Post by brentjoyce on Jun 4, 2008 8:12:21 GMT -8
Shawn made of in his own direction away from Labienus and Fausto. Darting from alley to alley at lightning speed, while he searched the dust bins and old buildings for signs of the man he spotted at the bar he begun to think. Why would Labienus want to be one on one with Fausto a vampire he does not even know? He began to think about why Labienus talk to him at all. It was dangerous. Him being a human and Shawn being a vampire, it was a little of a taboo relationship. His thoughts drifted to Fausto, what was Fausto looking for right now. Why did he come across Shawn at this moment in his life?
Labienus followed Fausto noting his movements and actions. He was a very sly vampire a little more agile then Shawn was. It was hard for Labienus to keep up at times but he fared well. He could only guess that Fausto was slowing down for him. At times it seemed as if Fausto was angry with Shawn leaving him to work with Labienus. But, Labienus felt it was necessary that they met for a bit.
The one thing that was his mind for the moment was Fausto motives or lack thereof. He didn’t know why Fausto was working with Shawn and himself. All he draws from what he knew so far was that a long time ago Fausto and Shawn had lovers, both of which have now died. That they both use to belong to a coven that was located in Paris France. Lastly, that there coven was broken up and now they have met for the first time in years, decades possibly.
When Fausto made a comment about how slowly he was moving all Labienus could do was huff out the words.
“I am keeping don’t worry Fausto”
With a breath between each word because of how fast he was moving. When he got use to the pace that there were moving at he begun to calm a little. He was following as closely as he can now, he thought about his words out before he spoke.
“Where do you come from Fausto?”
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Post by theliontamer♥ on Jun 13, 2008 12:56:35 GMT -8
Her black eyes never left his face, and her smooth mask never wrinkled. Her expression was a masque of complete calm, a Countess chatting with a group of literate men who looked politely interested while remaining detached. Her lips, barely a half-crescent in the darkened room, twisted not into a grin nor into a grimace of pain. And if she had cared for what he was saying she did not let on; the mask never shifted, never betrayed her feelings. The years between this meeting and their last had allowed her to compose a careful shield around her heart, or whatever heart she may have been spared. Only as he turned away did she let her eyes leak her anguish, only then did the peaceful black abyss swell with fear and desperation, and only then was it too late. The magnificent wolf had lept from the building, from her sight, and she could not see nor sense him. He did not wish for her to see him now. She had made sure of that. The man she had given herself to, heart and soul, was one of her most bitter enemies. An ancient rivalry had been passed down and now passed between them. Of course neither had intended for this to occur. Of course neither of them wished to be torn apart and suffer such cruelties. But she had been alone for so long now. Her mask was perfect. She could survive. She shifted her eyes from the ruined memories that flashed before her eyes and away from the horror and their shattered life, and turned lithely to leave. No more than a brief swish of her cloak and the fainting tremble of a pipe organ's dying request and she had gone, out into the open night, searching for the unrelenting time for some she might call allies.
The tabletop sat empty, a rim of dust grasping the invisible journal. Of Lucian's past and revelations to her, only one remained. The pipe organ played its' doleful tune for no one but the molding walls and twisted ivies.
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Post by The Wolfman on Jun 15, 2008 23:10:02 GMT -8
The night air was cold, it felt good aginst Lucans skin as he ran. He felt the cold air enter his lung's and burn as he exhailed the hot breath, in this form he was free, free from all the thing's in the past present and future. Righ now it was just him and his thought's and the animal instinc's and Lucian smelt blood, the fresh scent a sweet new blood that was just spilt. Following the scent Lucian came up to two vampire's over one human victim, they were squabling over the blood, who killed it?, who found it?. "Stupid vampire's, he thought to himself."
The scentof the fresh blood was too overwhelimg for Lucian he had to have it, no matter what happened. With a lound ear peircing howl, lucian jumped down from the lege he was sitting on and ambushed the two nieve vampire, befounded the two scared creature's not knowing what was happening flocked in two diffrent direction's. Lucian let the two go knowing that there would be more coming back for him, but this time in a larger group. The larger the group the more fun, for the new born vampire's put up more of a fight, the werewolf's didnt quite know why but they enjoyed it.
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Post by lions_go_rawr on Jul 24, 2008 17:34:10 GMT -8
The night air, chilled to the bone, did not affect him. The biggest effect it had on his body was by that of pure reflex, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He walked the streets by himself, usually at night, even though word had spread through the city to stay off the streets at night. There were rumors of beasts that hunted in the night. Whispers of names such as "lamia", "vampiro", or vampire in layman's terms. Then came the whispers of another kind, that which have no other name but that of werewolf. The idea of giant dogs, human when want to be, bloodthirsty canine when they feel the urge. People laughed at that thought, though were still scared. As they should have been. It had been years and years since the war had ended, but now, the beings of the supernatural cried the calls of war. If only the human ears could hear.
The wind blew across his skin once again, this time bringing a familiar, yet unfamiliar scent to his nostrils. The smell made his blood boil, his senses run wild, like a rocket shot into the sky. He felt his breathing speed up, his heart, the same one beating within his chest for years, hundreds of years, beating at breakneck speed. He shut his eyes and focused on calming down. "Not in the middle of the street," he told himself. There were one or two people mulling about, probably some criminals who were looking to jump him. That was all he needed, someone to attack him. That would surely be their downfall, maybe even his own if he was to be caught in the process of...
He shook the thought off. He had not spent his long life learning to control himself to end up being careless and dead. He knew there were those out there looking to kill him, or kill what he could become when a single thought would provoke his mind and set him off. Both human and supernatural kind were looking out for what he was, on the constant lookout for he and his brethren as well. The scent from the wind stayed in his mind. The scent of blood. Could it have been one of his lycanthropic brothers, or could it have been the cold blooded killers that were vampire. No human could spill blood in the amounts that he was smelling. It was only by his concentration that he could smell the vast quantities of blood and not be forced to transform, the blood acting as a psychological catalyst to the transformation, sending him into a bloodthirsty rampage. Time had taught and trained him well. No longer was he a bloodthirsty animal from his past, but a well trained, educated, strong, fully apt killing machine. Then again, that was only when he wanted to be. Now was not that time at all.
Then a new scent hit him. His thoughts stating that more werewolves were around were proven true. This one was strong, aged like him. He stood, from what Caius could smell, the being was standing in the exact site the scent of blood was coming from. Caius' thought process was sent into overdrive. As he moved towards the site of the apparent killing, he knew he was either walking into a place with welcomed arms from this unknown werewolf, or he was walking into a conflict from a violent immortal canine.
He moved quickly, not wanting to lose the trail that was dying in the air, for the wind had picked up. Caius focused on the speed of the wolf within him, urging its instincts to kick in and power his legs as much as they could without him actually transforming into the beast caged within him. Instincts gave in and pulsed in his mind, driving him towards his unknown location, his surroundings a blur until he came to a stop. The moon shone down on a single spot, illuminating the dark shadow of a man.
"So," his voice called out to the man. "Was it you, or was it the filth that is otherwise known as vampires?"
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Post by brentjoyce on Jul 24, 2008 19:28:29 GMT -8
OOC: are those two people Labienus and Fausto?
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Post by Her Royal Highness on Jul 25, 2008 1:16:53 GMT -8
ooc: ok here i finally go. HAPPY MARK? ?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oye. anyways, its not the best but it's 1am and i just wanted to get it posted before i lost the ideas. Anyone would have called Elena Del Carmen a fool to be out in such darkness, female and unaccompanied as she was. She herself would have discouraged anyone else from doing so. Yet this had been the second time in a month that she had been summoned at an ungodly hour to aid a victim to the the nighttime's concealed horrors. She moved forward forcing herself to move with deliberate slowness, fighting the urge to race home as fast as her legs could carry her, one that could easily betray her presence to the night. Fearing every shadow, every corner, every narrow street blanketed in darkness for what it might be concealing, Elena nevertheless kept well clear of the pools of light cast by the few lamp lights that still burned lest her form or even her shadow alert anyone, anything, that might be watching. Tonight's wrath had struck down the brother of her friend, Mariela who had risked her own neck to fetch her. However, nothing, not her father's instruction on herbal healing, not her experiences in epidemic stricken hospitals, not even the first attack of that month could have prepared her for the sight of Raul's body. Gashes inches deep and feet long stretched from his shoulder diagonally down across his chest. As for his face, well, only half of it could still be referred to as such. Her first glance had told her that there would be nothing she could do. He had died within minutes of her arrival. Her only consolation was that his lack of consciousness had spared him his final agony. She should have stayed until morning, having just witnessed what the night was capable of. But somehow, at the time, the idea of being stuck in the small stuffy room with the stiffening, bloody corpse, Mariela and her family's horrified wails was infinitely worse than anything she could imagine lurked in the shadows outside. It was cowardly. She admitted it fully to herself as she made her way from shadow to shadow. It was her greatest weakness -- the daughter of a healer sickened at the sight of death. Oh she could tend to the dying, but at that mystic, unfathomable moment in which her Roman Catholic faith told her the soul left the body, she quailed inwardly. She knew it was her humanity, her fear of the unknown. She was not unique in this fear. But none of her reasoning lessened her terror. No amounts of rosaries to La Virgensita could put her at ease. And yet here she was, practically throwing herself at death in her flight from it. "So... was it you or, was it the filth that is otherwise known as vampires?" Elena froze in her tracks at the first syllable. She had just rounded the corner onto the street that took her home when the voice, cold and harsh broke through the darkness. Not daring to breathe, moving nothing but her eyes, she saw large figures -- distinguishable only for being darker still than the shadows in which they stood -- looming no more than twenty yards from where she stood. She had no idea how many there were. It took a second for what the voice had said to register. What was it referring to? And had she imagined it or had he said... ? The thought broke off on its own. It didn't matter. Elena already knew she was in danger. Was this what had happened to Raul? She couldn't breathe... Ave Maria Purisima!a frail prayer cast to the heaven she had been brought up to venerate but had often suspected of emptiness...
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Post by The Wolfman on Jul 26, 2008 23:26:11 GMT -8
Lucian heard the faint sound of footsteps coming towards him in the dark alley, slow at first but graduly gaining confindence. "So," he heard from behind him "Was it you, or was it the filth that is otherwise known as vampires?", Lucain turned around in great hast to see who or what this person or thing was, "Vampires!?, What do you know of Vampires?" A light wind started to pick up, the breeze was harsh and lifted the smell of wet dirt into lucians nostrols. "There is a storm coming, do you smell it?" But just as Lucain finished his sentence his eye's shot wide and the sweet scent of startled human entered his nostrols "my friend we are not alone, and to answer your question it was i who shead the blood of the newborn Leeche's." The hatered seethed off of Lucian's toung as he spoke those word's, but besides the hate that he had for most vampires there was still one that was scared to his heart.
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Post by Her Royal Highness on Jul 26, 2008 23:54:22 GMT -8
She had heard the stories. Whispers of unknown, unseen creatures that had taken to stalking the city’s streets at night. Of course such tales were bound to spring up when the morning light had begun reveal unexplained red-stained walls and pools of blood from the night before. Grotesquely disfigured bodies were -- horribly enough -- becoming almost common finds in back alley ways, lying in torn, crumpled heaps, poorly hidden amongst the garbage and covered in rats who came to feast upon the remaining carnage.
But was she honestly hearing correctly? Vampires? The material of horror stories meant to keep young girls indoors after dark. But the voice that Elena now heard speaking the word filled her with a fear she could not reason away.
“We are not alone...”
Her hands gripped her satchel with all her strength. Everything screamed at her to run, to run and never stop running. Forgetting all attempts at concealment, Elena turned back around the corner and fled. In the back of her mind, a voice, cruel and sharp, jeered at her ... If he knew you where there, despite all your caution, what on earth makes you think he’ll let you go? But even beyond hope, she ran.
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Post by glamorousgnome on Jul 27, 2008 0:48:10 GMT -8
ooc: im not thrilled with this post but im exhausted and i needed to post SOMETHING. ah well. they'll be time to check it over in the morning.
“Where do I come from?” Fausto slowed to a crisp walk as they approached the house, running his hands along the doorframe and sniffing the air once or twice to feel a presence, any presence about the place that would suggest where they could begin to look for the night wolves. Brushing a greasy black fistful of hair back from his eyes, he turned to Labienus in slight amusement at the question. It wasn’t a question that he could answer like just anyone else- in a word or two (like London or Sicily or Barcelona). The question where do I come from held a much deeper resonance through Fausto’s veins- it was more like asking him ‘who are you?’ “A little village deep in the countryside not far from this city, called Los Lobos. Years and years ago- a century or so. I’ve lost count. They raided and burned it. It isn’t there anymore. The remains of it lasted decades, but now there is almost no sign that anyone lived a full and honest life there. All of our crops- burned. All of our livestock- devoured. I stood outside the house I grew up in to watch it burn to nothing but ashes-” His voice built, steady, rising into power- and here it dropped into little more than raspy whisper. There were pieces here in his memory much too painful to give away. “The siblings that survived the fire- we banded together. My brothers and I, and my sisters as well. And it has been war every since. Our numbers have dwindled to only four of us now. One more brother and two sisters-“
He creaked open the door to the house and finished speaking, his own words beginning to jumble and make less sense. Dust enveloped his senses, and the smell of incense. A wake had been held here recently, rather recently indeed. Several candles had been forgotten in the corner and burned down until nothing remained of their wicks at all. Flowers crinkled and cringed to greet their deaths in dusty, cobwebbed corners of the parlor. A man had lived and died here- a tragedy- and that was that. “Well?” Fausto barked at Labienus. “After you?” He motioned for the mortal to step inside, and then with a quick laugh, he snatched his gun out from his pocket. “Forget it. I’ll go in first.”
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Post by lions_go_rawr on Jul 27, 2008 10:56:08 GMT -8
The figure remained in its same place, un-moving, but speaking freely, in what seemed to be nothing sort of cooperation in Caius' favor. The moment that Caius had mentioned the word "vampire" the figure to evidently drop his guard.
"Hmm, so you shed this blood? Vampire blood you say? And how exactly does a meer human spill the blood of two supernatural beings such as vampires?"
As this point, Caius already knew that this man was more than just a human, but he did not want to reveal his knowledge. The questions were posed to get information out of the man. If the man was as smart as Caius thought he was, the answers would come easily, seeing as it was evident that they were both two men of un-natural backgrounds.
More than the storm, the presence of a human troubled him. He could smell the faint scent of human, rousing his senses, but it did not last, for the wind and the smell of wet dirt covered up any want to find the being.
"Yes, we are not alone. So talk quickly, or let us arrange a place to meet." Caius offered.
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Post by The Wolfman on Jul 27, 2008 17:42:57 GMT -8
"She is of no harm to us, cant you smell the fear that's coming from her?" Lucian said with a chuckle "We can talk right here." Lucian taking a step closer to the humanly shadow, the smell's of frightened human's filled his nose and he knew what was going on. It was only a matter of time before more newborns were there. "What would you like to talk about?" Lucain knowing what the man wanted. Lucian began to shake and the transformation had begun, and with a snarl looked down at the now small man.
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Post by lions_go_rawr on Jul 28, 2008 1:23:28 GMT -8
Caius watched the man in front of him rear up, growing taller as the seconds ticked by. He saw the transformation that he knew all to well take place before his eyes, almost like looking into a mirror, with the obvious differences that can take place, size, fur color, etc.
"Thank you," he said calmly to the beast before him, " for proving my thoughts correct. But I would have to think that you changing like that, in public, is a very, very unwise thing to be doing"
It was not like him to throw his caution to the wind, but there was no way he was going to keep his limbs if he were to stay human. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the beast within him.
Within seconds, he was staring into the eyes of the other beast before him, his breath steaming in the cold of the night.
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