[ROLEPLAY] Bloodpurge

Of course he wasn't hunting it had barely been . . .


This is a bad idea.





How long was it now?


He watched the scene as he lounged across several long since forgotten chairs, his legs crossed bent at the knees, his finger swirling above him in time and in sync with the music that 'played'; the daywalker's predicament. He had never heard something so ridicuous until he had met these 'daywalkers'. They were so prone to human compassion, to much time spent playing with their food.


Even humans, the second most advanced civilization on the planet had its winners and losers.


The night-owls raced about the town and indulge, securely in the bulge of life’s belly. They swarmed to the places full of sound and light like street demons and smile as they drink and feed, satisfied. They don’t want to know the underground life-farce their waste supports for they irritate and pester, ruining their nice cosy lives, a constant reminder of the imperfections of their society.


This is a bad idea, Iiokl.





Hungry, dirty, living not by wit, these wastrels were no longer seen because they are as common as buses, just as much a part of the city furniture as they make palaces of tube stations; short on rations bedding down on stone, cold tile, hard wood, cardboard, rags. Begging, apologizing as they roam aimlessly and smelly not really expecting the price of a cup of tea as, covered in street dirt, their homeless hands root through filled bins.


They were the losers, a waste of flesh and bone with eyes full of loss and pain, a face sad, lost. Each cadaver a ghost, dismissed by their fellow man . . . they were so dull, barely begged for life . . such a waste of packaging. Iiokl tutted, closing eyes briefly as he cut off the 'music', finger ceasing it's movement to wag up and down in silent scold; but this was not about his opinion but about her... His eyes opened shifting back to the two daywalkers; one of the vampiric communities losers.


This is a bad idea.





I know





But Vincent . . .





Pushing upright he moved across the the room, pinching the skin of the thralls neck, the nail of his thumb easily cutting at the flesh.


This is a bad idea.





She was no better than the scraps, worse, the leftovers. But even with such a small incision, the scent of blood upon his tongue made his mouth water nonetheless, and he fought to ignore the burning of his throat as he leaned close inhaling the intoxicating scent beneath the skin before roughly pushing the bloodpack away toward the girl.


"You should eat." He intoned, concerned.


She wanted it. He'd seen the look. Knew that look. It was one he was familiar. As for the thrall, he knew a stockholm/victim when he saw one. He couldn't even be bothered with her. None of that mattered to him though. Not really. He simply wanted to see the daywalkers expression.


That was a bad idea, Iiokl.





I know.





But Vincent.


Will be grateful if she eats?





And if she doesn't? He smiled. Oh well.


 
Angel was about to answer Haratchi when the scent of blood in the air struck her hard in the face. That smell she couldn't rightfully ignore wafted through the air, greeting her in the most warming and friendly way. Her eyes snapped in the direction of the smell that now lay in front of her. Karen, Vincent's thrall, with a minor cut on neck, was right in front of her, courtesy of Iiokl.


Angel looked up at the man, having trouble for a second tearing her eyes off the food, seeming upset. Whatever she did after that was a mystery to her. It was a total black out, but she woke up out of it, clinging to Karen and draining blood from the small cut in her neck. The daywalker jumped back, releasing Karen and covering her mouth with shock.


God, what did I do? Angel thought to herself before swiftly dropping to her knees and checking Karen's vitals. She was fine. Good. Angel had woken up without completely draining her. She let out a sigh of relief and let go of the poor Thrall, standing up again to look at Iiokl with an angry fire in her eyes.


"Why did you have to do that?!" Angel shouted at him, clenching her fists. "What's wrong with you!?" She was trembling so much from fury and fear...after a moment she couldn't even look at Iiokl anymore. Angel turned her back on him, and looked at her hands. There was blood on them. She wiped the rest of the blood from her mouth, feeling tears coming to her eyes. Poor Karen...
 
Karen was surprised both by Iikol's sudden movements of opening a cut on her neck and on Angel's attack. She had understood that if vampires didn't feed enough their bloodlust could comsume them.





Karen had a noise as she felt her blood leave her. She choked back a cry and let herself slip into a state of half-consciousness. Her breathing got faster and her vision blurred. Once Angel released her she fell to the ground not able to support herself anymore. She closed her eyes half wanting to faint, half not.





At least she was alive.





Karen let out a small moan and opened her eyes, struggling to at least sit up.
 
Haratchi glanced up from reading the final book in the series, "that solved that problem, didn't it." he said, giggling a bit to himself and continuing to read the book like no-one was there in the basement with him.
 
It was only the scent of fresh blood, of the most delicious substance, that could spur a vampire like a puppet on strings. Lulling, dragging, stumbling the daywalker in her slight haste toward the thrall, eyes far gone, feral with desire, and he flashed a grin, shifting closee like an eager child as she curled about it. Latching, piercing and drawing on it's skin to satisfy the craving.


He watched her intently, a hand rising up to brush away those berry bangs, the colour of summer; to prevent from obscuring those glazed orbs as she fed. She was already gone, her features smooth, relaxed in their satisfaction. So small, cherubic. Innocent.


She was such a doll when she ate. Like this, her features relaxed, skin smoothing and he drew his fingers over it experimental, dark eyes glittering. Curious as he awaited her 'return' as to the pale complexion, would it tint a rose red hue, with the blood of another? She had shifted then as though irritated by the touch, pulling the thrall closer to her body, protective, possessive. So desperate. And he smiled in anticipation.


Ba-dump, he sang to himself, ears keen as he watched the thrall, listening and finding enjoyment in the decline, as her eyes began to glass. Ba-dump ... ba-dump... ba-dump. . . . . . . . . . . He pouted as Angel's concious returned, and she released it. Watched the thrall fall, swiftly followed by the daywalker, and Iiokl clicked his tongue a couple of times;


Quel dommage.





　


"Why did you have to do that ...?! What's wrong with you!?"





He reached out toward her as she turned her back, thouroughly unrattled by the display, curling a hand over her eyes loosely to prevent witness to the tears as he leaned over her shoulder, his other hand moving to tap a finger against his lips.


"ssh shh~ you'll scare the humans" He reprimanded silkily, despite impossibility at such an hour, before continuing, his eyes focused blankly on the thrall before ignoring and discarding her from mind altogether... dull, moving to settle curiously instead on Haratchi at his response; the only other person in the room-, before continuing to persuade her, his smile conradicting the concern that fell from his lips. amusement.


"You'll become a burden if you starve; see how easy that was. . .you don't want to do that to Vincent, do you?"


 
A tremble ran down Angel's spine when Iiokl came up behind her, covering her eyes and leaning in over her shoulder. She grew tense under his touch, only allowing herself to linger in it until he was done speaking. Once he stopped talking, she yanked herself away from him, still refusing to look at him and moved into the furthest corner from the others, facing the wall and becoming utterly silent.


I wouldn't want to be a burden on anyone... Angel thought to herself, trying to calm herself down. I wouldn't have become one...I would have hunted eventually...I always do when I become too desperate. But, I have the right to do so on my own terms! At this point in her thoughts, she took a glance over her shoulder at Iiokl again, glaring at him with a truly surprising amount of hate. She was normally quite peaceful and was pretty difficult to stir up into anger, but given the circumstances this man more than warranted his fair share of hatred from her.


Who does he think he is? she thought, the venom of her thoughts beginning to sneak into her unwavering gaze. Just because I'm the weaker Vampire doesn't mean he can pick on me. What a bully! Unlike Haratchi. Haratchi confused her. He was so nice about it, trying to change the subject. Was he okay with her? However, he didn't exactly jump to her defense now. He treated this as a solved problem too.


Angry and flustered, Angel sat down in the corner, pulling her knees in close to her chest and burying her face in them, wanting Vincent to come back. He was clearly her only real friend here and he wouldn't have allowed Iiokl to do that to her. Would he? Sure, Vincent was forceful and sometimes a bit mean, but he wouldn't make her do anything she didn't want to. That's why he didn't MAKE her go hunting.
 
Haratchi sighed, not an annoyed sigh, not a relieved sigh, not a tired sigh, not an angry sigh, just a sigh. A sigh with a bit of sympathy for Angel. He stood up and walked over, abandoning his book, then sat down next to her. He looked around at the others in the room then back at Angel, "are you alright?" he asked, smiling at her.
 
As the other vampires stepped out,Dimitri nodded,and unfurled his wings. "Return by dawn. Keep an eye out for anything useful that we can move with us. Stay away from the military. There's no telling if they're VRC until they spring into action." With that,he gave a mighty flap of his wings,and lifted off of the ground,and flew to a nearby roof. He inhaled through his nose,deeply,trying to find the scent of freshly spilled blood. He couldn't find any,sadly. "Good...No one eased my burden...Better for me. I need to keep sharp."


Dimitri looked across the cityscape from his vantage point. His view was quickly blocked on most sides,but he locked his eyes on a particular building. Low,wide,and long. A warehouse,and the smell of iron was almost painful. He smiled,and began his flight. He didn't fly too high;he flew just above the roofs. He wanted to avoid radar detection,and the VTOL airliners that perpetually moved across the sky. He landed lightly on the roof,and folded his wings back up. He creps across the roof to the access door,and pressed his ear to it. He heard voices,but none near the door.


Dimitri carefully opened the door,and stepped in,closing it behind him. The hunt was on.
 
Maribel descended into the streets ready for the hunt. Most nights she did well usually taking one or two but sometimes she got...mad and had ended up killing more than she wanted. Maribel tried hard not to let this happen as it left a pretty big mess and last time she had to work hard to cover it up.


She scanned the streets looking for someone to take.


"Can I help you?"


Maribel turned to see a tall man behind her. He looked healthy and young and she smiled. Sometimes prey were so stupid. Coming right up to her. It was too easy but she didn't mind. She was hungry.


"Oh yes. My cat ran off and I can't find her. I can't live without Fluffy. She is the only one left to keep me company."


The man nodded in sympathy as she hoped he would. He followed her as they "looked" for the cat and eventually she lead him down an alley.


"I think I heard meowing this way."


Once they were deep enough Maribel turned and smirked and then attacked. He let out a cry before being cut off.
 
A dark cloaked man walks along the middle of the street. He seems scared holding the hood down and the cloak up to cover his face. The beggars and general human refuse that squatted here seemed to ignore the hooded man. He ran quickly to the end of an alley way, the cloaked man stopped and looked behind him. seeing nothing the man seemed to relax, Suddenly a figure in what appeared to be black pants and a black T-shirt crashed on to the cloaked man. "I finally got you, ya cheeky bugger". he seemed to speak in two dialects. The man leaned down and pulled a small vial from a bag over his shoulder, The man then poked the unconscious figure. The small vial filled with blood, the black wearing figure held it up and examined it. "yes this will do nicely, well bottoms up!" He then tossed back the shot of blood."Ah refreshing" Lifting the unconscious man he then proceeded in the opposite direction.
 
Iiokl smiled as Angel pulled away, rubbing fingers against his thumb tip idly, testing the padding, eyes still locked on the other daywalker. Dry. She hadn't cried. He was almost dissapointed, almost. Though simultaneously grateful she'd kept them, for now at least. Almost. That is until he finally dragged his eyes away to the girl by the wall and bore witness to an altogether more interesting response.


The tension he'd felt seep into her body moments ago was so evident from the distance she'd placed between them. Expanding into the air about her. Clouding, surrounding, bolstering her otherwise thus far timid presence as it filled and consumed her, converting into something new. Something more altogether interesting and pleasant that he was all to familiar. And when she turned, the hatred that swirled within her eyes, stealing away all trace of innocence caused him to double over in imitation of pain, hands drawing in against his chest, gripping at the fabric, as the laugh bubbled over silently from within.


He lowered in squat, an arm curling about his legs in support as he leant against the elbow of the other, hand drawing up to cover his smiling mouth as he calmed to watch her. He had only provided the banquet, she had done the rest, and although this technically unwarranted and overly hostile response was nothing new, it was surprising and altogether amusing from the doll like creature.


He had expected self-loathing and pity.


A shame? He sighed somewhat dejectedly, even as the smile grew more pronounced.


Agreed.





Though this response was not so bad either.


Iiokl sniffed, a look of distaste on par with desire crossing his features and he looked to his side, directly at the discarded bloodpack, stretching out a hand, systematically wiping the dribbles of blood from Karen's neck with his fingers and smearing the now widened incision with his palm none to gently before cleaning them off against the fabric of her clothes without a word.
 
Angel nodded at Haratchi. "I'm okay," she told him softly. "I just...need a moment..."


She was still shaking. Why was she so angry? She'd never felt so angry in her entire life. On top of that, she couldn't stop trembling about it. Maybe she'd been around Vincent too long. He was a pretty angry person. His influence might have done it to her.


Or maybe it was that Iiokl was the most annoying malicious creature she'd ever encountered ever.


Angel took a deep breath and turned back around, looking at Haratchi and smiling faintly. "I promise I'm okay..." She did feel better...healthier...livelier...than she did earlier...but still. Poor Karen. She looked over to the Thrall lying on the floor and frowned a little, hate burning in her eyes when she saw Iiokl touch her, wiping blood from the wound he caused. How could he even live with himself from day to day? He acted like this was such a gift! But, it was a curse...all the same.


----------------------------------


Vincent sighed and just leaned up against the wall of the library, waiting. He pulled out a smoke while he was at it, taking it easy and playing it cool. Honestly, it was the best way to hunt.


Waiting long enough meant someone would cross his path inevitably...and someone did.


A young woman with light brown hair and pretty green eyes walked out in front of him. Clearly she was on her way home, where else would she be going in the middle of the night? Vincent dropped his cigarette, crushing it beneath his foot and fell into stride behind her.


He remained inconspicuous, acting as if he weren't following her and that he was just another person on his way home. Easy enough. His foot steps were so light that she didn't even hear him. She kept walking, eventually turning off route to head down an alley. Probably a short cut...a deadly short cut.


Vincent shot forward, grabbing her and covering her mouth before she could scream. The woman struggled, but it was okay...after another moment, she would never struggle again.


He snapped her neck, killing her quickly and mercifully, then dug in. It was a good system and a peaceful night.
 
Haratchi nodded and smiled at her, "that's good." he said, looking up at the ceiling, at Iiokl then back down at her, "should I go talk to him?" he asked. Since he wasn't any good at fighting, but reasoning would be a lot simpler.
 
Angel was silent for a moment. She kept her eyes on Iiokl, as if waiting for him to drop dead.


"No..." she replied to Haratchi, still calm with an icy bite in her tone. "Don't worry about it. He's not that important." Angel sighed and leaned back against the wall.


She lost her head there...She could have killed Karen! It was Iiokl's fault. He shouldn't have done that! What even happened? She completely blanked out when she attacked. It was frightening; not being able to remember what she did and knowing what she could have done if she didn't snap out of it. Angel shuddered, thinking about the consequences. If Karen died, it would be on her shoulders. Vincent would be furious on top of that and he was stronger than she was. What would he have done to her if she HAD killed Karen? And why did Iiokl do it? It couldn't have been because he cared about her and wanted to make sure she was healthy. No, he wanted something more sinister. That guy gave her the creeps every time she spent too much time around him.
 
Dimitri Kozlov stalked silently. He crept to a corner,and listened. He heard the clacking of a keyboard. No voices,at least none coming from this office. Dimitri quickly moved to the other side of the front of the office; the door was part of a glass wall. Dimitri heard the office occupant go "Hmm?",but he was well out of sight by the time they looked up. He waited a few moments,until he heard a sigh,and the keyboard clacking to continue. Dimitri smiled,and opened the door. He didn't step through,but instead,he retreated away from the door,waiting for his prey to leave the room.


Predictably,the occupant,a man,made a perplexed sound,and approached the hallway. As the man came into the hallway to look for the person who disturbed his door,Dimitri attacked. It was a front approach. The man was about to scream in horror,but all he mustered was "Vam--" before the front of his throat was torn away by Dimitri's claws. Blood bubbled forth from the man's mangled trachea and esophagus,and an almost pathetically hilarious gurgling sound issued from the wound,while his mouth opened and closed lamely,eyes wide in shock. Dimitri chuckled as he drew a goblet from the folds of his cloak,made of beautiful sparkling crystal.


The man began to fall to the ground. Dimitri lunged forward and caught him. He set the man down in a seated position,and leaned him forward,draining blood into the goblet's cup. "Be at peace,mortal. Your burden has been lifted. There is nothing for you to worry about." As the goblet approached fullness,he pushed the dying man back,resting his back against the desk. Dimitri stood straight,and chuckled. "Cheers,friend. Thank you for the first course of my meal tonight. Mayhaps your co-workers will be equally accomadating,hmm?" Dimitri sipped at the goblet of blood,taking it slow. He was telling the truth;as a Nosferatu,he needed to completely drain an adult human of blood once a night to keep sane.


Dimitri,however,liked to flaunt his skill. He'd kill efficiently,but he'd only take one cup of blood from each kill. He didn't care if it was inefficient;it sent a message. The vampires have returned. And they are superior in every way.


Finishing his drink,Dimitri slid the goblet back into his cloak,and looked at the now dead man. Eyes wide open,mouth agape in horror. "My,my...That's quite unbecoming of such a graceful host..." Dimitri knelt down,and closed the corpse's eyelids,and tilted the head forward,giving the impression of a peaceful sleep. Dimitri stood up once again,and left the room gracefully,turning off the light on his way.
 
Karen, becoming more conscious, shuddered when Iiokl touched her neck, letting out a small noise of pain and discomfort but she did nothing to stop him. She closed her eyes tight shut half-wishing for the blackness again and half-wishing the fighting would stop.


No Iiokl and Angel were not angry fighting but they were disagreeing strongly and the thrall had always felt uncomfortable when the vampires would disagree with one another. She can seem some of the damage that could be caused. She had no wish to see any now.


Karen opened back up her eyes and stood, shaking and almost falling again. She would eventually be back to normal. She looked at Angel and smiled sadly. "I am okay Angel. You did not harm me, at least..." Karen stopped not sure if her words could comfort the daywalker. She did not want to upset her more. "I will be fine."
 
Angel looked away from Karen when she spoke. It was unbearable, thinking about what she could have done. She could have destroyed Karen...How could she be so optimistic about it?


"I know you're okay, Karen," she said softly. "But, you could have been dead." Angel glared up at Iiokl. "And you should probably get away from him. Clearly, he's unstable."


Angel looked back down at the floor and began fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. This travel group was growing tiresome. She wished it was just her and Vincent and Karen again...and maybe Haratchi. He was okay. But Iiokl ticked her off and Vincent clearly had no soft spot for the Nosferatu. Was it really necessary to travel with them? Why did they need these people?
 
​Drawing back his hand, Iiokl inspected the fingers and palm with a small frown. Taking in the tarnished skin, stained with thinned, drying blood as though fascinated. Such a small incision caused her pain?


Interesting. Without a doubt.


Perhaps more than the doll? In vain. And he rolled eyes inwardly, scolding himself at such a ridiculous notion. No. He could practically feel the girls eyes, tainted vision aimed for the head. If looks could kill he'd aready be lain out, limbs perfectly askew, air tainted by the smell of charred flesh. He pulled a face. If looks could kill? How cliche? And yet so true.


"And you should probably get away from him." Hear that venom. How could this thrall possibly compete. He flicked his head as he looked up, fallen hair tossing back with only several rebellious strands remaining uncooperative, a tired smile gracing his features as his fingers closed over the stain, removing it from view. "Clearly, he's unstable."


Unstable? This coming from a daywalker who ungratefully refused to eat the packed lunch Vince provided her. Hardly.


Hardly?


Hardly.


"You're deluded." He met her burning gaze with one of equal chill, unfazed. Though there was a logic to the statement, even if the phrasing itself required rewording and toning down for anyone but him to immediately make sense as it came to him. "You liked it. Wanted it. That much is already proven."


He continued gaze drawn down to her cheek as he held up.


"Rather you deny what you are until you stand upon the brink in an ultimate display of masochism..." He smiled darkly, focus drawn back to her eyes as amusement mingled with curiosity sparked his own. Pinning her. Unwavering as he pushed himself upright to stand. "... and you call me unstable?"


"How many have you killed, or does Vincent usually stop you?"
 
Leaving the subway, Devin decided that tonight, tonight was meant for a good feeding. One human just didn't seem worth it, and he had to wash down the taste of soldier with something a little... buzzed. He didn't know what it was, but when some human junky had injected himself with one drug or another, their blood just seemed so much more filling. Realizing there was another of his kind just a block and a half down, he headed in that direction.


Turning a corner, he came faced to face with his fellow vampire, who appeared to be taking home a snack. speaking in a low voice, he addressed the black clothed figure. "Well hello there. Don't you think that happy meal of yours won't catch people's attention slung over like that?"
 
The dark clothed man looked up unsurprised. He shifted the weight slightly as if to refer to the unconscious man. " But sir, He's my cousin. He is dead drunk So I have to carry him home." then a wide grin spread across his face. "That's what I would have said had you not been a vampire. About time you showed up. I was wondering if the military somehow had started projecting the Psionics. Anyway Why don't you tell me your name mate?" He said all this has he walked away, unafraid of the other vampire.
 
Shrugging his shoulders, he replied "The name's Devin Herdel, Bruha. And if you don't mind returning the favor?" with that he holds out his hand, thinking 'To be carrying one for later, he must have a lair nearby. I could use a new base of operations, and who knows, he might be from the nation itself...'


There was definitely a vampire coven somewhere nearby, what with all the ones he was sensing. At least another five in the area, several gathered together only about five blocks west of here. Maybe he'd finally had some luck, or at least some new recruits for the war. He was sick of relying purely on his thralls to watch his back.
 
The man Shifted the meal to go and proffered his hand. "My current name is John Nightingale. A bruha you say? Haven't seen one of you around for a long time" He pauses to think back, then reshifts the weight. "Bah, come on mate let's get you some more 'food'." He continued walking down the street towards what appeared to be a small unassuming two story house. He walked to the front door and stepped inside. Poking his head back out he yells "What you want the VRC to find you? Get inside".
 
Following his new companion, Nightshade, Devin walks straight up to the door. After being invited, he crossed the threshold "Don't mind if I do." Well this guy isn't directly connected to the others, but who knows. Examining the front hallway, and seeing a window with thick, but open, curtains, he remarked "Nice house, day walker. Got a basement? I ain't too fond of burning flesh, especially my own." And at that he sits down on one of the plush couches. This place did seem pretty 'normal', which was always a plus for a good lair.
 
Angel felt like she was about to pounce Iiokl and rip HIS throat out. However satisfying that might be, she refrained herself from doing so. Instead of lashing out like a crazed animal, she just straightened herself up a bit and turned up her nose at him.


"I don't know what you're talking about," she said haughtily, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not a murderer and Vincent doesn't have control over me. We're companions. I'm not his slave. I've killed no one."


Though, she couldn't be quite certain of that either. Often, Vincent would bring her blood from his kills. Did that count as her indirectly killing? On top of that, she wasn't sure what type of person she was before she was turned. Was she always like this? For all she knew, she was an assassin or a soldier or something violent like that. God forbid it be true, of course, but she really didn't know.


Angel could feel it though, she wasn't a murderer. The idea of actually killing someone with her bare hands made her feel sick to her stomach. Now that she had attacked Karen as well...how she just lost all control like that. What if she had done it before? Blacked out and killed people to feed her and she just didn't remember it? The idea was unbearable. It could have easily happened though. Several times. Maybe before she met Vincent. Was she even a Vampire before she met Vincent? Anything before meeting him was either a blur or just didn't exist in her mind.


"And...And I didn't like it!" Angel snapped, quickly wanting to jump to her own defense before her mind took her further into her own fears than she cared to venture. "I lost control. I don't even remember it. I'm appalled by it."
 
John looked at the bruha with mock shock on his face. "A basement? are you kidding me? How stupid do I look?" He steps past the bruha to a door. He Immediately stomps about a foot before the door. A small data pad appears. John leans down and he enters eye and fingerprints. behind him a small elevator pops up. He looks at the bruha. "Well are you coming?" has john steps into the the elevator shifting the portable meal out of the way.
 
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