Sigil: T.C.o.D - [Walk-In][Modern Fantasy: Cycle 32][O/A]

[VeganIncubus]

YummyBiscuits

arrow Empyrean

He could see her eyes in the low light; Nothing went unseen, even in the light darkness. Petyr returned her smile. That was something he remembered how to do. Had he been a happy boy at one time? What had life been prior to now? He let out a sigh. She spoke again, explaining to him that all were welcome. This made him curious; So, the living were also allowed in? It was truly confirmed that he no longer belonged to their ranks.

The tunnel opened into a large amphitheatre; It bustled with the undead. The room was, like everything else, beyond the boy's wildest dreams. There were portals and undead creatures sitting behind desks, wearing pieces of jewellery with bizarre symbols. The guards wore armour and on them was emblazoned a two-headed eagle. What was going on around him was processed at super-speed, so that with a single look, the boy had accounted for everyone in the room, as well as every conversation and every move. It was all stored in his memory. Every feature and every quirk of everyone before him had been memorised down to the tiniest detail and the smallest scent.

Petyr was now sitting down in front of a see-through man, what he would classify as a ghost. The young vampire smiled politely as he watched what the other was doing. It all seemed very official. This was what Kilcannon had meant by what she'd said about getting him set up.
He placed his hands on the table and straightened himself up.

"I'm Petyr, Mr. Doyle. I can't recall my surname." The boy replied with shyness in his voice but as politely as he could. It still retained some human semblance, although it sounded fainter than that of a human voice his age. Perhaps it was the fact that he was still not fully accustomed to his current state.

He marked the other writing down his name and other things on paper. He assumed it was all regular procedure.

"I would, sir. I really would." Petyr replied almost innocently and with the utmost honesty. Being stripped of all humanity had not taken away his good nature. Though everything about his personality had been magnified. He felt a bit impatient, but did not wish to show it.

[YummyBiscuits]

XxTheVeganVampirexX

One of the Family

No surname, was it. Well, it wasn't rare for the freshly turned to forget a few things, especially if they went by way of becoming the more common undead like zombies or skeletons. Ghosts almost never suffered that loss, and the same for vampires, but it wasn't all around incredibly rare for one to simply let those all too human parts of one disappear.

"Hmmm, I can give you a surname here and now. Would you pref-" Pierce began to say, before Kilcannon raised a hand to stop him.

"Just give him mine for the time being. He can change it later, Pierce." She said quickly, before dropping back again. An amicable gesture, which enticed Pierce to look to the boy for a moment, judging if he assented or if he supplied a surname of his own. In any case, he either wrote down Terece or some other last name, before moving on after stamping the cover page and signing across the red ink with a practiced flourish.

He'd flip the page again, coming to family and relations. He already had the answer to that, Kilcannon had brought him in on his own, and none of the other undead in the room had the same turn of the nose or the same eyebrows. It was easy enough to say that if he did have any remaining family, they would still be alive somewhere in Sigil. A quick glance to Kilcannon would answer the question in full as well, so he was left to simply write her name down for contact information in case some manner of emergency occurred. He could get her to sign it afterwards, so that he didn't have to pull up some sort of bad feeling on the matter; Petyr was just a kid after all.

"Did you possess any special abilities in life, and do you know if these special abilities have persisted into undeath, not including abilities inherent to your undead classification?"

[VeganIncubus]

YummyBiscuits

One of the Family

arrow Empyrae

He was starting to think of a surname before the woman behind him stopped Pierce. Petyr nodded and seemed grateful. He felt in no position to object to such a gesture.
The boy simply allowed the official to continue filling in the paperwork. He was efficient and thorough. The urge to swing his legs the way a human boy his age would arose, but he kept it at bay. He had to remind himself that he was no longer a human boy; That their games or their past-times were no longer his own.
Petyr listened to the question carefully, racking his brain for the information Pierce was looking for. He shook his head in slight embarrassment.
"I don't quite remember, sir. For whatever reason, everything that pertains to my life is a blur. So, any knowledge of previous abilities or absence of these is simply inaccessible." The boy was somewhat surprise at his particular vocabulary; Nothing about him indicated any kind of education...had he picked it up somewhere as a human? It was all very strange to him.

"Perhaps if I am able to recall later, I will let you know."

[Better Than Gore]

arrow Forest.
Mexico.

In a safe, secretive, location, what remained of Adrian's group, began tinkering away at the chest. At first, they each took a turn swinging at the lock, with whatever they had, and with all the strength they could muster. The first child had a simple club, that resembled a leg of a table, after concentrating, he began swinging, hitting the massive lock until his arm grew tired. Upon inspecting the undamaged lock, the next child took his place, he had a sword, old and rusted. It could surely still take a life, but it too didn't scathe the lock, instead, the blade chipped away each time it had made contact. Leaving the child demoralized and without a practical weapon. Giving up, the final child stepped up, he had the mightiest weapon of all, an axe. Stolen from a guard's corpse, blood from one of their own still stained the otherwise spotless blade, taking a two handed stance, he swung, with all of his might. Colliding with the lock, forcing a ear piercing ding, the sheer force of the collision caused vibration. Which in return caused the child to drop the weapon with an agonizing scream. They all stared at Adrian for some sort of answer, and all he offered was laughter. Not that their failure humored him, more so the situation they were in, but they too chuckled along as if they knew.

Now it was his turn, Adrian refused to leave until he knew what was inside of that chest, and that meant he had to break the lock. But after watching his companion's fail so easily, he too was discouraged, and couldn't imagine a way that he could open it. All he had was his Father's cetus', punching the lock definitely wouldn't work, nor could he punch the chest itself. They had already tried that, the crate itself was harder than the lock, as impossible as it seemed. "Dame el polvo." Adrian spoke, and the children looked at him curiously, up until one of them stepped forth. Snatching a small pouch from his waist, he offered it, Adrian took it hesitantly. Gripping it tightly with his right hand, he approached the chest and crouched in front of it, opening the pouch slowly, once it was open, he took the lock in his free hand. Slowly tilting the pouch, he'd pour it, accurately, into the rather large keyhole stationed on the front. Emptying roughly, half the pouch in the lock, he'd hand the bag off to the nearest child, and motion for another to come forth. "Piedra y el acero" Adrian added in, before a wicked grin appeared, and once the object he spoke of had been offered, maniacal laughter followed. Another child approached, ripping a piece of his shirt off, he'd shove it into the keyhole and take a step back. Instantly, Adrian began striking the two together, sparking until the linen caught fire, then he fled.

BOOM!

The lock literally exploded! Adrian's prize awaited inside, and would be claimed in due time. Approaching the chest cautiously, the children gathered around behind their Leader, and observed. Kicking the top open, a enormous scroll laid within, as well as gold. Plenty of it, too, that explained why the chest had been so heavy, but that didn't surprise Adrian nearly as much as it surprised his group. They screamed with delight as they saw the gleaming yellow colored coin, celebrating, and instantly bursting into conversation about what they had planned on buying with their share. Adrian hadn't joined them in celebration, instead, he instinctively reached for the scroll that sat on top. Pausing, his hand went idle just before it touched the parchment, sighing heavily, he took hold of it. Nothing happened. Prying it from the chest, his hand clung onto it for dear life, stepping away from the chest, he motioned for his companion's to loot what remained. They did so instantly, still laughing and cheering about their find, digging into it without a care in the world. Opening the scroll, Adrian began reading it, which was impossible, due to being written in a different language. Except one line, he understood it, for it was written in his native tongue. Deciding to read it aloud, his fate was sealed.

"En el vasto y desconocido."

Much like that of a vacuum, the scroll began sucking everything in toward it, including the gold, more importantly, Adrian. Apparently, speaking the line activated some sort of trap, soon, he too would be vanishing, first went his hand, then his arm, and the remainder of his body. Shocked, Adrian's group watched in horror as their leader was eaten by the paper, but more so that their coin was being stripped away. They even went as far as trying to cling onto Adrian, pulling with all of their might, but it was no use. Their grip was broken, and Adrian vanished. The scroll hit the ground after it had vacuumed their plunder, and caught fire. Burning away into nothing but ash.

arrow Sigil, the City of Doors.
Foamy Mug Inn.

Adrian appeared, as if out of thin air, just plopped out, and rolled. Rolling until he came to a stop, in a sitting position, each leg extended before him, scroll still in hand, unopened. Coin fell from the sky, and gathered around him.

BearVsBaby

"Please, join me; we will discuss why I have sent for you."

People were gathered around him, some sitting, some standing, and probably all staring at him now.

"¿Qué mierda?"

Spooky Mittens

Fiend The Bunny

The Great Absolute

Trexasle

The Vansin

Epic Myth

[YummyBiscuits]

XxTheVeganVampirexX

One of the Family

That's just how it was sometimes, when you underwent the transition, sometimes one would simply forget all of the former aspects of their life. It couldn't be helped, and all the research on the subject couldn't dig up any sort of spell that allowed one to remember this sort of thing, it had to either be unlocked with time or not forgotten in the first place, and it only served to impede the structured protocol of writing this sort of information down. Documentation was important, and Pierce took a moment to pull the glasses off of his nose and let them drop to his chest. He raised an eyebrow to Kilcannon.

"Have you tasted his blood? Do you know anything?"

"I have, but I couldn't glean much besides his immediate memories." She explained. A vampire could usually pull information out of a person simply through tasting their blood, a single drop could give equal information that an entire autobiography or a detailed dissertation could, but when a block such as this existed, even that ability couldn't peel back those ungodly tight layers.

"Alight then. We'll just have to test his blood for any aptitude." Pierce said, half to himself.

He went about pulling a small disk-shaped device from within the desk, and popped it open like a compact mirror, examining the inner workings with a hard eye after he replaced the glasses, making sure there was enough paper for a readout and a clean needle to pull blood. He'd flip the needle over, no longer than a few micrometers, and held his hand out for Petyr's own.

"We'll need a small amount of blood. We can find out if you have any aptitude for magic or if you possess supernatural abilities that have persevered to your current state. If you would."

Once Petyr gave his hand, Pierce would bring the needle to the boy's finger tip, applying a small amount of pressure, ad surprisingly there was almost no pain, the needle was so small. It pulled a small amount of blood into the machine, which gave a ping of approval. Pierce would smile, brushing his hand over the small p***k. It was all cold, all not there, simply incorporeal and lacking substance, but definitely dead. Pierce would flip the needle out, setting it in a waste disposal bin at the side of his desk, before writing a few things down again.

"Empyrae caters to learning, almost above all else. Due to your age and your lack of memory overall, you'd do well to enter one of these schools. We have many, from magical and combat schools to trade universities if you desire a more mundane life in Empyrae. The blood you gave will be set to your records and provides us information as to if there is any existing aptitude you yourself have." Pierce would explain, before the device beeped again and vomited out a strip of paper. Pierce read it silently, before stapling it to the record.

"It seems you have a slightly above average aptitude for the magical arts." He went on, notarizing the results. "At this point, I must urge you to enter one of the combatant oriented schools due to the aptitude. With your ability, you could soon join one of the various groups that serve to protect the city. Lady Terece, for instance, acts as one of the high ranking soldiers in what's known as The Glorious Inquisition."

She'd smirk a little, looking down to the kid. She wasn't turned when she was his age, and had skills that were quickly put to use when Ursan found her and converted her to his cause. In turn, she had been one of the first members of the Glorious Inquisition, a strong arm force of undead who protected and policed all of Empyrae, and still acted as one of the most influential members. It was hard to find one of the undead who hadn't heard of her various exploits, each one earned through time and sweat. But she wouldn't force the kid into the position, she'd hate to write down his name on one of the Dead Sheets, and notarize him down as one of the lost to battle. Horrible thing that.

"But it's entirely up to you." Pierce would take care to remind him, with a stern look. "We all serve the city in some way, and we all serve our Lord."

[Red the Ambivalent]

New life.....⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘

яє∂

Location: |
Sigil:: The City of Doors |

Currently:"Heading back to the Mage's Guild"
In the Company of: "Thomas and Astrella"

The Psion stood to the side after handing the rather beautiful in a disgusting way- arm back to the Librarian. Her brain was still trying to pick through any reasoning as to why the two of them somehow managed to get along even after what had happened, but really she couldn't care. They were getting along well enough even if the urge to strangle him was nigh, so she would leave it be until there was practically nothing for them to worry about.

That made her silently laugh to herself.

So far there was never a dull moment in Sigil, so getting the rest she needed didn't seem like it was going to happen anytime soon. Watching Thomas curiously, she could have actually laughed aloud as he spoke of her helping rid of the monstrosities of Ertai's Construct.

"I think they probably have things well enough at hand, but I suppose if they need the extra hand."

Red mused to herself, glancing over to Astrella.

"I don't know where she is at, but where we are going you will probably get a good lead."

Letting her hands drop to her side, she started off across the Causeway as the trio moved out, heading back to where she had came from. Red took a sidelong glance at Thomas, a smirk playing on her blood splattered face.

"Sort-of Bestie? How flattering."

This was going to be an interesting endeavor. She hadn't put much thought on how everyone was handling the Mage's Guild, hell by now she figured the Enforcers would be trailing Tres on the way to the Library to try and dispose of Ertai. She hadn't been aware that the scene of Ertai disappearing was televised.

count_zantara

Deus Ex Aizen

Quote:

⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙New beginning.....

[VeganIncubus]

YummyBiscuits

One of the Family

arrow Empyrae


Petyr quietly tapped his clear nails on the table, not in impatience, but just to hear their sound; He had not yet tried their hardness, but they seemed like they could really hurt someone. The neonate vampire listened as Kilcannon replied to Pierce's query. It was true, he'd wondered about whether she had also seen his own memories and what she'd learnt. He was not entirely hopeful, at any rate.
He pushed the hair out of his face before staring at the ghost again. It was futile to try to remember now, as it would give him a headache. What was forgotten could come to him later, or never.

He placed his hand facing upwards atop the official's. The vampire examined the device the other had pulled out; He had not seen anything quite like it. In the past few hours, his whole world had become stranger than he could have imagined. It was as though he knew nothing else prior to this. Kilcannon had become a sort of role model to the boy. As Pierce performed the test, he allowed his mind to wander and wonder about what it is it would determine about his future in Empyrae. The p***k barely hurt at all, and the moment the needle was withdrawn, there was no sign of it ever having entered his skin.

Petyr nodded obediently, taking in all of the information. He definitely wished to learn. Learn about himself, and about what he could do. Perhaps help other undead, and vampires in general find this place of sanctuary and safety.

"I think I'll do just that." The boy replied, more than willing to train. That he had above average aptitude for magic made him hopeful. Perhaps this unlife wasn't so bad after all. He heard of the Golden Inquisition and hoped to perhaps join them."I want to make Lady Terece proud, as she is the one who saved me and came to my aid in my moment of greatest need. The boy beamed, flashing a smile and his upper and lower fangs.
"I want to make this place my home, and as it is the only home I know, I will defend it with every fibre of my being." The vampire understood what was expected of him. As he felt he owed the other vampire a debt, he intended on doing his very best to show her she had done the right thing.

"I owe my life to this city and its lord." The youth added, sternly and almost solemnly.

[Hi Im Reiko]

Show me the CarFox

Never any rest for the wicked.

After slamming Fox with the back to back seoi -- Crawley hopped back and stomped himself down into horse stance with his hands outstretched in front of him. In just a few seconds he was ignited in darkened ki that seemed to dance more and more violently about him as the seconds passed.

Then suddenly it stopped...

He must've sensed Fox's light go out. His prey had been finished and his appetite immediately waned.

Though he still kept his stance...

Because he also must've known what was coming next.

His own calm lasted until Fox got to his feet and they locked eyes once more.

At that moment his own evil ki engulfed him once more -- even more violently than what he had been previously summoning. Soon he became swallowed in the blaze of it and he was no longer visible--

And right at that moment .. there was a large burst clearing out the immediate area and leaving nothing in its place.

Crawley was no where to be found for a few seconds until the shape of a clawed hand engulfed in a trail of ki that was connected to what seemed to be larger figure shot at Fox's head from his right side to grab him.

9

[YummyBiscuits]

XxTheVeganVampirexX

One of the Family

"Alright, I'll enroll you in all three of our main schools. You can continue your otherwise normal education at the Sixty-Six college, and simultaneously learn other vocations." Pierce muttered, continuing to make small notes. "You'll be able to learn quickly enough. I wouldn't be surprised if you could join the Inquisition within a month's time, two at the most."

He went about finishing the paperwork up, keeping up with little bits of small talk or asking for a small bit of clarification on a small piece of information. There were many things to note on the records, from something mundane such as height and weight, to allergies, and even asking just how many fangs the boy had, before comparing it to the results from the disk in order to ascertain exactly which breed of vampire the boy was, as there were countless branches of the otherwise indistinguishable species.

Slowly but surely, Pierce finished up.

"It sounds like you're perfect for the city, Mer Terece. Let me be the first to welcome you to the city as an official citizen." He signed one final line, and looked up, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he smiled. "There's one final step. I'll allow Lady Terece to bring you there. I hope you have a wonderful time here, Petyr."

Kilcannon would be waiting for the boy when he turned around, and she'd let him take her hand if he went for it. But, she knew how children were at that age, full of spitfire and independence, and had the tendency to go and walk on their own, do their own thing. She'd lead him across the room, through those massive golden wreathed doors, with anyone from an ugly and scarred zombie shambling next to them or even a vampire as handsome as those two, maybe a man that was more skeleton than meet, hiding his ruined body with a robe, yet they walked through that door as equals, all members of this society.

"There's only one way that the city can work so well." Kilcannon would explain, looking down every few steps. "All of us are asked to submit to a control spell. One that advises loyalty, but lets us keep most of our free will. It takes away our hunger or carnal desires, letting us focus our attentions. It's a veritable paradise here, Fresh-tooth."

She'd smirk, leading him onwards, before stopping and looking down at him, squinting hard and scanning in that way only older women could when staring down beak-noses at their sister's children.

"You ready?"

[Spooky Mittens]

Jamorin kept himself occupied where he stood, doing very little to really keep the patrons beside him from noticing he was even there due to his small stature. He thumbed the large coin from the letter in his right hand for the time being when he heard the most peculiar sound. It was as a mating call to a female bird to Jamorin, the hefty thump of a bag of coin on a thick wooden table. Several bags in fact, all sounding heavier than what Jamorin could normally carry. His orange orbs locked on the direction of the sound, his hand no longer playing with the coin he'd been given a taste for. It seemed he wasn't the only one drawn by the noise either, as he could no longer hear the hearty laughter and boisterous chit-chat between the other patrons. Judging by the number of bags, Jamorin presumed that the cloaked figure had noted the presence of all of those who'd been summoned here. Of course he did. The sneak would note in his mind. Magic scrolls and creepy looking coins? How could he not?

"Gnome's out of the bag I suppose. . ."

He mumbled beneath his breath as an invitation was offered openly to he and several others in the room. The first one he noticed, of course, was the kid. Some kind of martial artist by the sounds of things. Jamorin would make sure to stay out of his way, lest he catch a beating by accident. The next one, or in this case pair, he noticed were the two dapper looking fellows he'd noted on entry. The darker skinned man approached the table in question. He wasn't the brains of that outfit, Jamorin could tell. He'd seen it dozens of times in his line of work. Partners each with their own sets of skills, and this Tyrone fellow seemed to be the muscle. Looks could be deceiving though, as Jamorin was sure to learn in the future. The most peculiar of all would be the arrival of the newest oddball.

A young man rolled through the fabric between planes, as though shot through a portal by a cannon. Jamorin could tell this boy had been called in the same manner as himself by the scroll and the falling of that same kind of coin. Leave it to the greedy little thief to note the coin most of all. This boy spoke in a tongue that Jamorin couldn't understand. Better be careful of that one. . . Jamorin often spoke in draconic and elven when he didn't want other people to know what he was saying. It was getting to be about the time for Jamorin to make his move though, the men beside him on either side were growing restless having a gnome standing between their legs so close. He turned his eyes to either fellow and simply offered the pair a wiggle of his eyebrows before he pocketed his coin and strolled his way forward.

The cloaked man had bid them all approach and speak with him. Jamorin may as well oblige, since he had no clue how to return home and wherever there was coin to be made, he wanted to be there. The little gnome slinked over to one of the chairs flanking the table in question, drawing the thing out by it's back legs. While the others did their chit-chatting and introducing, Jamorin just pulled the chair out far enough for him to climb up into the seat with a short hop. He rotated so that his butt would be flat on the seat, and his legs extended out to either side of his form, much the way the boy who'd portal'd into the room had been sitting at the end of his roll. His fiery-orange hair peeking over the top of the table, paired with two small orange disks. Jamorin said nothing for now, simply took his coin out again and started flipping the thing in one hand.

Where? The Foamy Mug
Who? "The Chosen Ones"? As if.

BearVsBaby

Epic Myth

The Great Absolute

Epic Myth

Trexasle

Fiend the Bunny

The Vansin

Better Than Gore

[The Great Absolute]

Nightmares Abound

Location: The Market Ward – Street Sweepers Carriage
Character: Norman Hollow
Story: The Return to Oblivion

Drip…

Drip…

Drip…

The blood dripped from the gaping hole in his skull. His shattered face, while absent of life, continued to stare on with an uncredited madness. The fragments of bone lay scattered on the cobble in the darkened alleyway. His flesh had become darkened in what could only be described as death blanketing what once was; what was once a monster. Despite the monumental amount of murders he had committed, Norman had met his match at the end of pistol. Perhaps it was some sort of poetic justice that he had been killed by an even bigger monster, yet it mattered little in the grand scheme of things. His time to die was not governed by him or the man who killed him, it was governed by something much more powerful…

”Come on boy, help me toss this one up!”

The burly older man called out. The more youthful of the two sat patiently at the reigns of the small wagon. Cocking his head back to the older man he callously snapped back.

”I helped you with the last four! Sorry sack of s**t! Grab the dead ******** by his shoulders and push him up.”

The younger man continued to mutter as he returned his gaze forward once again. Gripping the reigns he would feel the heavy thud of the body in the back of the wagon. As he continued to stare forward as the tarp was pulled over the contents in the back.

”Hurry the ******** up, I’d like to get home sometime today! The wife is having a party for our…”

”I do love parties…”

The calm voice replied as the once dead man climbed up into the wagon next to the younger man. His once gnarled face had been restored. A billowing dark smoke poured from his perfect smile as he looked into the eyes of the younger man. The street sweeper was speechless as he snapped the reigns and the horses moved out slowly. Norman looked forward as the two moved. His masked hands wiped away the blood on his knife before returning his gaze to the shaken man.

”Did… You…”

”Kill your friend? Why yes I did.”

”W-w-why?”

”Because I needed to…”

The men both remained silent as they jotted past the chaos that erupted through the streets. Norman could feel the pain in the air as people cried out to one another in hopes to find perhaps their loved ones in the panic. Norman reveled in the situation, watching with a bemused look at the chaos and pain his lord caused on Sigil.

Brushing his hands over the dirt on his coat, he looked over at the man and smiled.

”Why don’t we go pay a visit to your family? Seeing how you’re the one responsible with scraping me off the street, I believe you are in order to at least give me some reprieve to the filth and grime on me?”

Placing a firm grip on his shoulder he wickedly smiled.

”What do you say? Friend…”

The man swallowed with pure fear. He could do nothing, he felt himself almost persuaded to comply. Looking at the passing streets sign he diverted the conversation.

”I cannot show up home with the Sweepers cart. We must drop it off fir-“

Norman’s face changed from kindness and humor to a dark and critical stare.

”I don’t think you quite understood what I was saying.”

Adjusting himself in the seat of the meandering wagon, he’d place his fillet knife to the neck of the young man. Pushing the blade in slightly, Norman bit his lip. He was consumed by the lust he felt with each drop of blood he seen.

”I understand…”

The sweeper said between the initial gasp of pain and uncontrollable fear. Norman removed the blade from his neck and returned it to the inside of his jacket. Looking forward he began to speak casually, as he normally did before dispatching the living.

”What is your name?”

”Robert Martic…”

”Well Robert Martic, I am Norman Hollow and today is your lucky day! As you will not befall the same fate as your friend!”

Norman smacked the lump beneath the tarp.

”I won’t be killed?”

The man questioned the truth behind Norman’s words.

”Why would I kill someone who has helped me? Your friend on the other hand felt the need to pilfer through my pockets, which to his misfortune ended up with him draped in crimson.”

The man smiled at Norman’s explanation to why he had in fact dispatched the other street sweeper, but the facts contradicted the reality. Norman had been graced with life once again from the abstract hand of Lord Vexic. Norman had made it a skill to beguile his prey and make them feel comfortable, as his strikingly handsome features and smooth tongue gave him an approachable demeanor. This comfort would ultimately lead all to the same downfall.

They came to a sudden stop. Robert nodded his head for Norman to depart.

”I will move the wagon to the back, go inside and tell my wife you’re my guest.”

Norman smiled and slid off the wagon in a smooth motion. Dusting himself off, he would walk to the door as the wagon tottered around behind the building. With a gentle knock, he let his knuckles send through the halls, his presence. Slowly the door opened to reveal a bright-eyed blonde woman with a perplexed smile on her face.

”Robert sent me? We work together as sweepers.”

”Oh come in, where is he?”

”It was a slow day so we decided to ride the wagon here, as we were passing by and he spoke of some party…”

Like a Nosferatu, Norman passed the threshold of their home. His predatory eyes scoped out the establishment. The walls were drab and held very little beyond cheap art and discolored photographs. The woman departed from Norman and made her way to Robert as he came through the back. Robert smiled and wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her lovingly. Looking towards Norman the man frowned slightly.

”Honey this is-“

”Norman, Norman Hollow… We met earlier.”

He interrupted them, his eyes still locked on the portraits on the wall. Norman brushed his gloved hand over the picture of what appeared to be their daughter. He smiled mockingly at the happiness in the picture.

Such a wonderful family!

He thought to himself as he returned his eyes to them.

”Well I hadn’t been prepared to come to a party, but I do have something for the birthday girl if it is alright with you two?”

Norman proceeded to reach into his suit jacket and produce a small black pouch.

”No, sir you don’t-“

The woman said before she was interrupted by her husband.

”Any blessing you could spare would be greatly appreciated Mr. Hollow.”

Norman smiled.

”Well I’d like to give the gift personally to her, seeing how I feel like I’m part of your wonderful family now!”

He said with pure enthusiasm as he walked past them and into the main room where numerous children ran around with laughter. Norman eyed the room and noticed the surprising lack of parental figures. Smiling gently he walked over to the small girl that the party was for.

”Well hello beautiful! I hear today is a special day but no one seems to want to tell me why! Could you please inform me?”

He said with a playful wink.

”It’s my birthday!!!”

”Your birthday? Well what shall we call this glorious day?”

He politely played along so he could discern her name without sounding more out of place. The small girl started to giggle as he played into her.

”It’s Matilda-Day!”

She shouted out in response.

”Well Matilda, I have something for you… It’s for a very special person from a very special person.”

Norman produced the small bad he had been holding and placed it into her small pale hands. With a smile he rubbed her hair and turned away back towards her parents. To his delight she opened up the small bag and let out a squeal.

”Oh my Lady!’

Norman paused as the little girl rushed behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Glancing down he smiled and returned his eyes to her parents as she held onto the gem encrusted necklace.

”Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

She pouted out in exuberance.

”You’re welcome little lady, now go show off your gift to your siblings while I talk to your parents for a little while. I’ll come back to talk to you here soon...”

She nodded in compliance and ran back to the rest of the bewildered children. Norman moved into the kitchen and proceeded to pop open a bottle of old wine. He hadn’t asked if he could, not that he cared anyway what his hosts had to say about it. Robert was clearly stricken with fear as Norman sipped the wine and shifted his eyes to his wife.

”Such a beautiful family you two have, more than I can say of the wine! Ha!”

He jabbed at their taste in wine whilst degrading their poor family. His right hand ran over the table between them before pausing in front of the fruit basket. Taking hold of one of the crimson apples, Norman would toss it up gently.

”Thank you for the gift Mr. Hollow.”

Norman smiled and produced his fillet knife from the inside of his jacket. Slowly he started to peel the red layers of the apple away, each chunk falling to the floor. Looking down at the crimson mess, he would grind the heel of his boot into it as he made his way to the door that separated the kitchen from the main living room. Norman would slowly close and latch the kitchen doors before returning his gaze to the bewildered couple. Taking a bite of the apple he would shake it in his hand as he begun to speak again.

”I’m simply letting her borrow it. In my experience-“

Norman casually spoke as he walked between the two. Both Robert and his wife were seemingly entranced at the spectacle and situation itself. Without any resistance they let this stranger into their home. Norman had charmingly threatened Robert as well as killed his friend without so much of a blink. His calm and smooth demeanor accompanied his pure handsome features that made him feel like someone to be trusted. This reality was only skin deep as something much darker; much more primitive survived. He was a monster, a hunter at his core.

”-it was easier to kill the children last. You must take out their protectors first.”

He finished with a bite of his apple.

The mother was the first to break rank and make an attempt to flee. Norman ran his blade right into her liver and with a simple twist to his wrist he sliced her side clean open. She gasped out a shrill scream and collapsed to her knees. Norman simply took her by the hair and ran his blade deep across her throat. The crimson spray would plaster the wall and countertops. Robert wasn’t going to take it as easy. Rushing forward Robert would slam Norman into the wall as he scrambled to save his wife. Agony ran across his face as he stared down into her vacant viridian gaze. She bled out quickly, yet painfully. Norman dropped his blade as Robert slammed him into the wall. Like a smart hunter he had other weapons in his abattoir. As the man cried in woeful despair, Norman moved behind him. In a smooth motion he ran his blood soaked hands together and pulled from the wrist of his gloves a black cord. Snatching the grieving man from behind, Norman ran his knee deep into the man’s spine and yanked. Robert’s blood stained hands gripped at Norman’s jacket. There was nothing he could do but die, yet his eyes searched for something in Norman’s, it searched for a reason why. In the stained emerald eyes he would only find a darkness that existed without reason.

With a violent jerk Norman ended the man. Robert’s pain stricken eyes didn’t close as he hit the floor, slumped over his wife and her eviscerated corpse. Norman stood breathless from the pleasure that ran through his body. It was his revel in pleasure that he heard them. The children laughing, unknowing of the fate that befell upon their parents. Norman ran the water and slowly washed the blood from his gloves.

”I wonder what they will feel like?”

He whispered to himself as he dried off his hands and wiped his blade down.

”Children… Children… Please come into the kitchen, we must prepare to sing Matilda her song, but first we must do something special.”

One by one the children vanished into the room with Norman and one by one he fed his insatiable hunger for pain. Each one of their contrite cries left a new melody in his mind as he reached 209 victims on Sigil. The innocent souls he fed to the unknown left him with a name to be forgotten, relished no more and mourned by strangers in passing. Twas the nature of Sigil. To be lost but no one to search for you. As things moved on, these innocent lives would be forgotten in a week and filled by strangers from a far and distant land. Norman hummed softly as he wiped down his blade once again. Calling out for the last of his victims.

”Oh Matilda? I believe we’re ready for you…”

With a wide smile she sat up from the tattered chair she was in. Rushing to the kitchen door she slid in. Her eyes widened at the sight…

A beautiful birthday cake…

All the gore and all the death was gone from the room. For all that was evil, Norman was infatuated with naivety of children. Perhaps somewhere beneath the layers of darkness and madness he felt sympathy for the youngest of the Martic’s children.

”A special day for a special girl.”

He whispered to her as he approached her from behind. Lifting her up by the arms he sat her down in the chair in front of the cake. Her wide eyes counted the seven candles and smiled up at Norman. Something changed in her expression as she looked around the vacant room.

”Where is everyone at?”

She questioned softly.

”They’re waiting outside in the wagon my little Matilda. Once you blow out the candles we can depart on our long journey. You will see things no one else has seen before, you will hear such beautiful music and feel such wonderful things… But you must make a wish, for that wish my little Matilda will bring you safety in the darkness that might come.”

He whispered to her as he parted her brown bangs.

With an eager smile she closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. His blade came directly up through her the back of her neck and out her throat. She could do nothing but attempt to scream as she wiggled around weakly in his grasp. In a secondary motion he removed the blade from her neck and she exhaled for the last time. The shock in her face vanished as she struggled no more, her tiny body slumping back in the chair. Norman brushed her beautiful hair from the pooling blood around her neck. Turning away he grabbed opened one of the large burlap sacks he acquired from the cart. Turning back he smiled a gentle smile as he noticed the candles of the cake snuffed out.

”Farewell my little Matilda, may the darkness show you mercy.”

He whispered out as he drug her by the hair and stuffed her rag-doll corpse into the sack. As he shouldered her weight he brushed his masked hand into the icing and tasted the sweet taste of youth once more. Kicking open the door he tossed her into the back as if a bag of trash. Whipping the hind of the horse, he sent it out into the street to mingle with the rest of the shifting traffic.

Looking to the sky once again he would notice the indelible stain of his lord on Sigil. Fate was set in motion and now it was time for Norman to meet the Librarian. A smile brushed over his face as he walked away into the crowd, vanishing among them as a nightmare abound.

[YummyBiscuits]

The Great Absolute

Life Again?

She woke up, and it felt like those times you went to sleep on friday night a bit too late, and slept a bit longer than you really should have, leaving you groggy and more than a little irritated. There wasn't anything in her head, it was just a haze, a huge long haze that seemed to stretch on and on and on, leaving her mind a simple blank except for the essentials; her name was there, Matilda, and she knew she was a little girl and she knew that she was once alive, but didn't know why she was dead or who any of the other dead people around her were. Their spirits were gone, long ago sucked away. But she wasn't, for some reason, and her little face scrunched up into a hard pout in only the way little girls could manage to do while still looking absolutely adorable.

"I wonder who the cake is for." She said aloud.

But that was forgotten, just like everything else the moment she said it.

She worked herself out of the chair she was sitting in, leaving her body and the link to it behind forever. She stepped over the bloody pools, even though she knew it wouldn't sully her shoes, and avoided the bodies by jumping over them as if she were playing hopscotch. She realized somewhere in her little head that they had to be familiar, and that she should have been unnerved by the sheer fact they weren't alive any more, but it didn't really seem to matter any more. There was something tugging on her, something pulling her away from the hovel and away from the scene of her own murder. It just didn't really matter any more.

She tried to push the back door open, but she moved through it like smoke, leaving wisps of ectoplasm that evaporated with a sizzle like flaming oil. Oh, she was that kind of dead.

"That's neat, I guess." She said, somehow lacking the emotion she would have otherwise expressed if she started moving through stuff like a will-o-wisp.

She came into the street, and a man moved through her, without really realizing she was there. He tossed something into the back of a cart she didn't remember being in the alleyway before from the times she played around. Oh, momma didn't like her playing back there, but she always did anyways, and momma got right mad whenever she got caught. Whatever was in the sack thudded hard and wet, like someone wetting their hand and slapping another person across the face. For whatever reason, Matilda didn't like the sound, so she ran off in the opposite direction, or whatever direction felt the most right at the moment.

She still couldn't explain it, but she felt as if there was something pulling on her, tugging really hard, and she didn't realize until the stone streets gave way to dirt and rubble that she had been moving really really fast.

"If I ran this fast before, I woulda' always won tag." She whispered, with a grin.

There was something in the sky that she didn't remember before, from the few times her family had been near The Hive. A big golden tower, made of stone or something, it rose up high and high, and even when she stopped and craned back, Matilda couldn't see the top, so she laid down on the ground to see just how huge the thingie was. She gave a low whistle right after.

"Hoh boy, that's biiiiiiig."

She laid there for a while. It could have been a few seconds, or minutes or hours or days even, but Matilda laid there for what felt like a long time and looked at the golden tower in the sky. It was really pretty, like the castles she used to make out of yellow sand when her family took her to a big place with a lot of water. She didn't remember anything beyond that there was just so much water and she made a really big castle, and that this castle was really similar.

She got up eventually, and started moving again, going ever closer to that city. It felt right, like when you were running home after playing with the neighborhood kids and knew that your mom had dinner ready, and right after you bathed yourself in coldish water, you'd go to sleep and the day would repeat. It felt right.

[VeganIncubus]

YummyBiscuits

One of the Family

arrow Empyrae


"Thank you so much, sir." The young vampire beamed at him and bounced a little in his chair; There was no other way for him to express his satisfaction. He hoped he'd be a good citizen, fit to be here.

Petyr kept on conversing with the man and giving him whatever information the other required. He showed him that he in fact had eight fangs. He was glad when the other had finished the process.

"Thanks again. I can't thank you enough." The vampire replied reverently and innocently, though he was bursting with mirth or something akin to it. He nodded in understanding and got up from the table, waving innocently at Pierce, almost like a human child would.

Petyr grabbed Kilcannon's hand as soon as he saw her. It was a strange place, but he was glad he was in it. He could not imagine where he'd be had he not found Empyrae. Whatever came next he did not know, but he understood that it had to take place in order for him to become a citizen. He walked through the doors next to Kilcannon and was met with the full glory of the city. It was even more gargantuan on the inside. He examined all those faces, and noted they seemed extremely thoughtful and focused, even content and filled with intellect and sentience.
"It's so beautiful." Peter let out, eyes widened again in awe and admiration. There was a pole about ten to twelve feet tall nearby that could give him a better view; Letting go of Kilcannon's hand, he ran towards it and jumped on top of it in the blink of an eye. Sitting upon it, he could see better--hundreds upon hundreds of undead, with some living in between. He could see vampires and others. Few noticed him, some waving as they met his eyes.

Once he'd sated his curiosity, he jumped down and landing on his feet he stood next to the female vampire once more"Didn't mean to go off like that." He explained almost apologetically.

So, a control spell? It did not sound too bad, Petyr thought. If it kept the city in order and everyone happy. However, one thought arose in his mind"Will the spell hurt?"Petyr was genuinely curious. He frowned a little.
He'd smile up at her, then would stick out his tongue, squinting his eyes in a jocular fashion.

"Aye, cap'n"He'd do a military salute and walk in a marching fashion

[YummyBiscuits]

XxTheVeganVampirexX

One of the Family

"It won't hurt at all." She assured the boy, bending down to take a knee, and com even with him face to face. Her delicate fingers, covered by the hard golden metal, worked the hair out of his face and cleaned him up just a little, making him look as presentable as possible. She took him by the shoulders then, her bright gold eyes locking on his and somehow reasoned a message across the two, giving just that much more reassurance that it would be just fine, so much that she couldn't help but feel the edges of her lips pull into a half-smile, flashing those pearly fangs.

"Right over there, see. Go to the priest." She ordered, standing up at the boy walked off all sorts of excitement and bundled energy.

He'd find a line, one of hundreds in fact. The people coming from the room came to these lines, standing strong and firm, their eyes and bodies filled with something, purpose or a dream or undiluted adulation that lent itself to joy; no matter what these people felt, one could simply look at them and feel how great it was to be among them, among those that would finally be given a purpose and a home, where for so long, for whatever reason, they had been shunned from the public eye. There, A tiefling bowed before the priest, and received the blessing, it's red eyes suddenly alight with golden fire, before it calmed into a dull amber, and he rose, finally in a place where the mere fact he had been born wouldn't mean people threatening to put him against a stake and light him on fire. There, Necromancers and undead stood side by side in order to receive this blessing, and every now and then, strangers would look to each other and smile or hug or shake hands, making friends with their new family.

And then it was Petyr's turn.

A man stood there, tall and wide of shoulder, but entirely missing his skin and muscle, a skeleton covered in soot, a pale imitation of their Lord Ursan. He was dressed completely in black and gold, a wide cloth spread around his shoulders and dangling to the floor, while skeletal hands held a goblet that gleamed and glimmered with gold and rubies and god knows what else. He bowed his head as Petyr came closer, and raised the goblet, signalling the boy vampire to take a knee before him, and then, with a slowness that could only be age working against his old bones, he would bring the goblet to the boy's lips, and tilt it back.

Blood.

It was blood, black and old and full of something that he wouldn't immediately be able to identify as power.

It would spread through the boy, touching every fiber of his being and spreading long fingers into each one of his cells. It was quick, painless, and immediately, Petyr would feel that burning desire in his belly and throat dull down, as if the burning flame of need had been doused with this blood; he wouldn't need blood to live any more, he wouldn't need food or air or anything else. And his mind, it became flush with knowledge; how the grand castle had been carved out of a mountain and turned into a necropolis, how Ursan the Gold had slain dragons and men alike, took demigods and their fathers to their knees with his willpower, and brought this city strength through sacrifice. How the Glorious Inquisition had protected them for thousands of years, names and places and faces filled his mind with information, telling the young boy about the city and it's long, long history.

And then it was over, and Kilcannon would be there, beside him again.

[VeganIncubus]

YummyBiscuits

One of the Family

arrow Empyrae


"Okay." Petyr replied, a bit anxious, but trusting her words, for he knew them to be true. She knelt in front of him and wiped some of the dirt from his face; He was in sore need for a bath. Not like he smelt or anything.
The vampire scrunched up his face and let out a groan, though it was more in jest than anything else. He gave her a light hug before running off like a child who'd seen a wondrous thing in the distance. If he had a heartbeat, it would be racing. Doubtlessly, he was excited and nervous. The queue was not too long. He stood and quietly glanced around. Everyone was tall, and he could barely see ahead, but had seen the queues from up high when he'd been atop that pole.

Roughly ten minutes passed before he stood before meeting a regally clad skeleton. The boy's curious eyes scanned him, though he wished not to be impolite. He admired the goblet. This was it. He would be part of something greater; Something better. A family. He'd be protected and he'd be with his friend, Kilcannon. She was so sweet towards him.
Petyr bent on one knee, and closing his eyes in a fashion akin to devotion, he drank from the goblet's contents.
It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced and felt. As the blood ran down, its power coursed through him, filling him with memories and knowledge far more ancient than his own. The history of the city flashed before his eyes. The vampire felt renewed and reborn; The thirst he'd felt was no longer there. No longer eating away at him. And he knew he was strong thanks to Lord Ursan. His great lord. His protector and to whom he owed everything. He would be devoted to him for as long as he lived and existed, this much he knew. Suddenly, everything became clear.
His eyes once blue opened and were the colour of Kilcannon's own, if a bit lighter. Petyr's whole being seemed to glow for an instant as he arose, feeling as one with all of the undead in the city.

After thanking the priest with a nod of his head, the boy stepped aside, and turning around, walked towards the female vampire. There was a smile of the utmost joy upon his features.
"Am I like you now?" Petyr looked up at her, innocently and with admiration. There was purpose in his stride and meaning behind his every word.