Return of the Crimson Blood Bar (See updated first page).

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Staff list has been updated with openings ready for any takers!	12.5%	[ 1 ]
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Total Votes:			[ 8 ]

[Nyx Hemera]

The scarred woman was no fool, far from blind as well. The scents in the room had seemed to hit a peek, a mixture of blood, death, anger, jealousy and arousal hung thick and bitter sweet. Her eyes would narrow slowly, something had changed and she wasn't quite sure how to approach the situation. The man that now stood in front of her was no long the man she had spoken to earlier, now offering her a quill with a bite. The form that now stood in front of her smelt so strongly of a venom one could class as jealousy in its mere form. The scent so thick she could roll it over her tongue like honey on winters day. She saw those eyes, no longer curious but seemed to peer into ones soul, even past it. Her gaze shifted toward that blood soaked pen he held within his hand and then she would take it. The calligraphy was unlike one was used to, and instead of a usual alphabet it was comprised of druidic looking swirls and vines, the end translation was her full name in the ancient alphabet of chains. One's name was a name, but to be given a full name was a sign of trust, now considering him an ally and friend. As she scrolled her name across the paper, the color that trailed across the parchment in continuous motion, never leaving the page was not red or deep crimson like that of ones usual blood. It was a mixture of silver pigments with what looked to be black slowly seeping in the longer she wrote. The end result would have been "Carnivaal Crii, Heir to the city of Chains, High Prism of the Tower of Arya." That would be of course, if one could read the language, although... she figured if one stared at it long enough they would see the shift in blood that would allow for a bit more easier reading.

It has quite possibly a good thing the woman had been sitting down, for the quill was indeed a blood sucker. It had almost felt as if tiny pins or needles piercing into her skin, or rather little teeth. Letting the pen go and playing it upon the counter, her gaze lingered over it for a moment as if sending its scent to memory. It smelt funny, that's for sure, and thus her gaze shifted back to the shaded Uriel. The longer she looked up at him, her eyes slowly shifted, mirroring his own however a darker tinge appeared near the outside part of the iris was, the shadowed woman was watching him as well. The longer Carnival looked at him, the longer the question swirled within her head. The shadowed woman whispered to her from the binding of her tomb, the demon Suiten that had once been her champion was beginning to feel hungry, the shadowed woman knew his strength would wain and it would only be a matter of time before she would be free. The woman whispered, and the tone that flowed from Carnival's lips was not her own but the barbed, ice cold tone of the shadowed woman. Even as she spoke the scent of winter chilled air and the purest roses lingered into the air.

"My dear... we all have our demons. It's just a matter of those who are willing to embrace their inner natures. In the end, when is true freedom granted?"

If the man would have known, the shadowed woman was laughing. Not to spite him, but for him. She sat in her prison, betrayed by her own creation and for what? The seven she had spared, the seven that have not come to their full potential quite yet... have so far done nothing but provide her amusement. Within her prison, she was but a shell of her former self. Left to sit to slowly whither and die, she had not fed in years and she was not sure if she could stop if she started. Her once piercing ice blue eyes had now become enveloped by the shadows that used to swirl within them. Her rage was never ending, she knew long ago that screaming and beating her hands raw would get her no where in the endless amounts of torture that the very seven soul she saved brought her. If it was not having to go through with watching their endless pleasure in freedom at her expense, it was having their souls trapped in with her. As she grew weaker, they became stronger, and she knew that as long as she clung on to the never fading hope that the demons strength weakened, she would be free. Thus her rage kept her moving, kept that part of her soul within the darkness to peer out upon those seven. What had they done for her? If only they knew the true extent of their purpose.

It would have seemed as soon as the words had ended, the scent would slowly fade. The scarred woman would rest her head upon her hand, rubbing her forehead softly. She always hated the slow torture, the slow kind of pain that never seems to quite go away as apposed to quick and well... painless. She would sigh softly, an almost inaudible sound, strands of her dark hair falling across her face.

"A drink, dear. If you please.. also.. What shall I call this Uriel?"

[Vv-UrieL-vV]

Uriel didn't want to let her go. Once, he had her in his arms before. For so long, he knew that this woman would be the one who he could let it all go for. The killing, the lies, the fighting, the denial, the terror and pain both inflicted and received. It was a love he had long forgotten about. A love that he shared with barely any other. This one, this woman in his arms he would leave his own place, his own home, his own life just to see. Just to be next to. His love for this woman transcended all plausible reasons, and wanted nothing more but to be by her side. A kiss that would cut pass the heavens. Only if she could really know what was in his head...

Uriel snapped out of his trance, and caught the scent of blood again. This made him worry a lit, very concern, and very angry at what would dare cause harm to this woman. He would comment on it, but he knew it must hurt. His hug would transfer his right ARM to her rear end, and would carry her in a cradle style. As he walked to it, he then questioned her as he placed her on the couch gently, awaiting for her to show her wound.

"What happened to you?"



The black haired "uriel" would look to her, a split second of anger, but would let it go. He would bend over to be eye to eye with her, his fangs bared as he stared and smiled. "Do not call me by that name, I don't even know why this as shole even goes by the name." He would look deep, deep into her eyes, deep inside her being. He would seem to speak to her, and whatever that was inside of her. "My name is Erebus Eion Chaos of the dark, First son of chaos." He would then loom over her with a evil smile. He would then speak, but before he did, he would speak directly into the mind of the queen behind them, the blue iris of his eye vanishing, and reappearing in front of the queen and his puppet.

"Hello mister. To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence? And if your intent is ill willed, I would be more than happy to tear into your cross dressing a** like a fat f uck eating a peanut butter sundae. Call it a disclaimer." A slight haze image of Eion could be seen right in front of the queen, the eye was bright, but the image of the body was very see through. The actual Eion would speak to Carnival, not once leaving her side. "Why are you bound to this low rank demon? I've seen imps s hit better crap than this one. If you would like, I can eat it..." His smile would be as evil as possible, but could be enticing. The thing about Eion: his energy is something quite unique to chaotic demons, it was pure ecstasy to anyone who felt it, a extremely high dose of pheromones to those of both sex. Some even would lose their sense of reality while being poisoned by high doses of it, becoming slaves to chaos.

It was at this very moment when the parchment began changing the writing of the document into the common tongue, and would glow. It was then when a voice she would hear. To all others outside of Uriel and Eion, it would be a grown of the walls, but to her:

" "Carnivaal Crii, Heir to the city of Chains, High Prism of the Tower of Arya, I welcome you to the land of tortured souls, the home of the charter, be it known that you are now under the protection of the Crimson Blood. You are now recognized as one of the keepkin, and I am here to serve you."

"damn, everything has lovely timing" Says Eion.

[syorukyra]

Unfortunately for this particular form of Uriel, Kaya was no lowly being so easy to be seduced, nor was he a vampire or demon. And he did not appreciate the intrusion to his mind. And such was, the mind was all one's last sanctuary not to be breached unless hostile. And hostile was what the Deathless Fate's mind took it as. He was the eldest of the three Fates that wove the cloth of beings' lives, only a few tapestries were not of his reach as their age was as old as his.

Threads immediately were around the form of Eion's mind within Kaya's world. After all, he had come uninvited, there was no reason for the Queen to hold back especially when an enemy had placed themselves in His world. This time the threads were like those of cheese wire, but a thousandfold sharper. They wrapped around the neck, limbs, body, and head of Eion's, untouching for the moment but ready to snip through the threads of the core of his being any minute; it didn't matter if he did not possess a soul.

"Why~ so defensive, young one? Does one fear so greatly for one's masculinity you must act like a spoilt child?" Kaya laughed softly, but responding likewise within his own mind. The only change in his expression was a smile that was bordering on maniacal that slid like honey onto his perfect features. A single needle, not Kai’s but of his own appeared between his index and third finger. He would perhaps like to blind the insulting eye that hovered in front of him.

Kai growled at the intrusion into their mind-- their's because he was no puppet. He was perhaps a pet but he too had a form other than this of a human. He was the reptilian punishment created to torment the Master of Tricks before he escaped his prison. As retribution for failure, Kai was cast away, nameless to a different plane, left drifting in all of space. The Fates had found his cloth in time to weave the quickly unraveling tapestry back together, bring him to a destination and give him a name. His payment was to stay their guard forever, to the one whom had first found his humble tapestry.

The Velgreed took the doll of Kaya’s creation and tossed it at the Uriel so occupied with the woman. Mid-way the doll fell to the floor, landing on its two feet and walked to the man. The eye sockets of the creation were hollow like those of a corpse. The blood the woman leaked was of no consequence anymore, especially with this new player in the scene whom Kai did not like at all.

"Consider it payment for the drinks. It is keeper of what you want to separate from yourself." Kai straightened, meanwhile sliding an antidote to clear the portent drink from his veins by way of hollow needle. A click of a firearm could be heard, but this was not any ordinary weapon, no bullets were used. The demon interacting with Carnival was a threat: he himself had proclaimed it already. The poisoner lowered his bodyweight to better his reaction speed in case an attack or threat came too close.

Kaya turned heel even as he got off the barstool, rather affronted by the lack of respect a bartender could ever have. The hems of his dresses were disentangling themselves from the rich mauve cloths; the lace fraying into nothing... This was Queen Lathivus’s defense. He did not seek a fight; neither of them were a head-on fighter of foolishness. They would take their leave from the vicinity.

}{OOC: Mr. Uriel =w=; Bad guy, -whacks with banana.- }{

[Nyx Hemera]

A small shiver seemed to slip through her spine as she felt the establishments voice within her mind, a small smile creeping across her lips, her own and the shadowed woman. Even then, her eyes seemed to change once again, morphing with the growing scenario and emotions. The woman still bore her darkened cloak, hiding the remaining parts of her from she had chosen to keep hidden, mainly her wings and remaining scars. Her gaze flashed up toward Erebus, catching the smirk with one matching her own. When she would reply, her tone was her own, barbed honey and since he was so close, she would place her hand upon his cheek, giving it a soft pet before leaning back coolly, removing her hand.

"Alright, the first or the latter, or both? Which do you prefer?"

Although it would appear the conversation would be interrupted, for the man of chaos was now preoccupied with the puppeteer and the poisoner. Prism optics reflected the various degrees of emotion the two were emitting. Her eye brow would raise slightly as she watched the two carefully. The woman had noticed the odd queen, but she thought such was normal for human breeds and thus she merely fluffed it off. However, if such confrontation should arise the woman would not hold back her tongue. She would cast a small look at at Eberus, a look that stated, "Now what did you go and do that for?"

[Edited]

[Alzerina]

The moment Uriel swept her off her feet, Alzerina knew that he was going to ask her about her wound. She knew it was useless to try to hide it from someone who was so in tune with the energies around them. Alzerina didn’t utter a word as she was carried over to a couch and placed on its plush cushions. Holding back a wince, she forced a smile onto her face. Even though she knew he was asking about her wound, the question of what happened to her was a loaded one. Many things had happened since she left the Crimson Blood. It was a question that would have to be addressed later, she knew, but Alzerina just wanted to concentrate on the happy homecoming. Even though her injury sullied it a bit, she was happier than she has been in a long time.

Explaining how she had become injured was a complicated enough question anyway. Alzerina knew that she should just tell him the truth about what happened, but she was confident that her troubles would not travel this far to cause any worry. At least for the time being, anyway. Sitting up as straight as she could, Alzerina moved her cloak aside to reveal the source of the blood. Given the fact that she all she was wearing over her chest was a simple black top that clung to her figure, the wound was not hard to find. There was a tear in the fabric on the left side over her ribs. The window of fabric framed a cut that was about an inch deep and six inches long, angled down to the left. After looking down at the gash herself, she looked up at Uriel and shrugged her shoulder a bit.

“The life of a vampire is never an easy one.”

She chucked a bit to add a bit of flavor to the lie she was about to give.

“Humans never understand that most of what they know of vampires is untrue. It never fails. I go into a new town, hoping for some understanding, but instead I am met with an angry mob that is convinced I am going to kidnap their children in their sleep and suck them dry.”

Alzerina shook her head and chuckled again.

“They are getting better, I will give them that.”

She paused as she looked down at the wound, knowing that it was tainted with the poison of a magical blade. The people that were looking for her were getting closer and they started to realize that they couldn’t take many more chances with her. Like her pursuers, she was learning from them and getting better at slipping through their traps.

“They are learning that a simple blade will do nothing against someone like me.”

Hoping to distract him from the origin of the wound, she looked up into his eyes once again and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to visit this place and find it full of people for once. I was beginning to think that I was the only one who remembered this place.”

It was at that moment she noticed the small doll that walked over to the couch they were sitting on. Alzerina stared at the creation a moment and then her eyes shifted to the other occupants of the room. It seemed that humans were still outnumbered when it came to the clientele. Sensing the change of mood made her frown slightly. It seemed that some things never changed.

“Things are as lively as they used to be, eh, Uriel?”

[Vv-UrieL-vV]

The being named Eion wouldn't at first notice the threads around him, but knew the intent the two had. To defend, and destroy. Unfortunitely, in this state, Eion was nothing that a average fighter couldn't take down. Being nothing but a external echo of what laid deep inside Uriel had much problems, and with most of Eion's demonic world ending powers sat inside his host, he would technically be the prey to the very person who went on the offensive. It would take the willing activation of Uriel to make this happen, and the body. Eion hoped that no other knew this, as he saw both preparing to move. His image pushed on the thread, as a intimidation factor, not truely existing where he currently stood boast the issue, and not baring life itself can boast the question of 'can Eion be destroyed by the fate, when he himself was not created nor existed with the Morae, the Parcae, or even the Norns? Can his life be extuingushed when his reality of not even baring a life was created in a realm that the threads were snipped long ago? For the only way to kill Eion, is to kill Uriel, and Eion begged for it everyday' The image of Eion became slightly violent, standing the hairs on the back of Uriel's neck, though the guest seemed not entertained.


Uriel looked to Alzerina's scar, with worry filling him. It wasn't something that he couldn't fix, but it might require tools that he didn't have. He began tracing the outside of the wound. A cursed blade, orgin of a magic power. It would seem that the existance keeps the wound from closing, from healing: essentially something that barrirers the wall of flesh. His hairs raised on the back of his neck when he saw what transpired by the bar.

"$#!T" Exclaimed Uriel, as he witnessed something he didn't want to see. Eion in a spirit clone, unwatched by Uriel. His left hand would open, and point in Eion's general direction. As such, The image of Eion would twist and turn, hair from black to silver, the arm back to normality, and the mass of such became what most wouldn't notice; Mass. The Eion was shelled by Uriel, and near instantly, as the two either was leaving, or ready to battle, he bowed in a most apologetic way. Words wouldn't express his embarassment, nor his anger at the chaoskampf. The Uriel which pointed now would reveal his hair slightly blackedn, but not completely. Uriel would pull the Eion close to the edge of Uriel that sat with Alzerina, his arm in the sate of Eion's arm.

A blue light would arrive on the back of Eion-Uriel's hand, and press hard against the wound. Alzerina would feel a suction from his hand, probably pulling in blood and any loose flesh. The vaccume would began "unstitching" the magic that surrounded the wound, essentially consuming the magical essence. This was one of Eion's greater skills, able to asorb anything that is made through magic. This however, would stop as soon as there was no alien magical trace left in the wound. And just as soon as that happened, the hair on Uriel-Eion would return back to silver, and URiel would be left there. Tired, slightly leaning, and a exhausted voice, he would ask "How..

He was interrupted by the doll, the one from earlier, the worlds "Take it as payment" he remembered hearing. He would pick up the doll, and stare deep into the eyes, the kuriryougan not reacting. He wondered what it was, but in light of this situation, he essentally "insulted" his guest, without the want to do so. And so, he accepted the payment and hoped his new guest wouldn't leave, but tended to Alzerina, as the new Uriel tended to the bar. He continued saying what he was originally going to say. "How are you? You should be able to heal your old wound, unless you are short on blood, then I have a stock of it in the back."


The Uriel at the bar who was in a bow at the patrons, would feel so much anger, he grinded his teeth as he turned his attnetion to Carnival, still bowing at the two who turned to leave. "Carnival, I am sorry. On a side note, I hope you would be able to withstand much of what happens here. it can and will get crazy...

"Oh, might I give you the grand tour?"

[syorukyra]

Kaya merely grimaced some when he saw the original Uriel withdraw such an unruly form of himself from the bar back within himself with a expletive. Eion’s presence disappeared from his mind. With a slow intake of breath, he watched the man undo the magic holding the vampire’s wound from closing. Not bad. The Queen glanced a back fully, gaze settling on the bowed head of another form of Uriel. The hems of his dresses returning to their former beauty instead of frayed, trailing strings both lace, silk, and velvet.

Kai let go of his defensive stance, sensing the difference in person. The bartender had apologized. He too bowed in return though not as low to accept the apology. Kaya turned to face the replica one hand at his waist, with a haughty glint to his unyielding stare, after seeing what had come from the same man. He wasn’t sure he could offer the same unbiased approach anymore. One’s parts split like that, it was for certain to show what one’s true thoughts were, no? One slender hand, no needles were visible anymore, collected a few folds of the skirts in hand, lifting them from the floor, even standing at his full height, the edges brushed the ground.

“A room, if you would. It would do you well to keep your unruliness controlled. Better, lock him inside the doll.” The Queen’s voice was hard, and markedly a man’s, though it wasn’t as low. From some pocket on the inside of his coat, Kai pulled out a small glass flask filled with fresh, fresh blood. The flask was placed on the counter before the copy of Uriel.

“Of a newborn’s.”

Kai returned to his mistress’ side, hands tucked back into his long coat and his wide-brimmed fedora back on his head, the veil falling over it. Even through the black veil, the poisoner’s ever-watchful eyes, now much brighter than they had been upon arrival could be seen. It was for the vampire lady the owner of the Crimson seemed to adore so much. He’d leave that part to him to figure out.

[Vv-UrieL-vV]

As the request was made, he would rise to a standing position, and turn to the register. As he walked, he began to fiddle with two of the three Voodoo dolls within his hair, playing with them between his fingers. When he reached the register, he took the large ring of keys and detatched two of the hundred. One was black with silver scratch marks, and "S3" written on a tag. The other, silver plain, with "S3-1" on the tag. He would make his way back to the two, his face not once bringing a smile, and detatched two voodoo dolls from his hair. He would bring them close to his mouth and whispered 'Auriel. Orion.' after placing a kiss upon them. He kept them tucked in the palm of his hand as he spoke to the two.

"We have suites available for your stay, it is on the second to last floor" And after he said this, he would toss the two voodoo dolls past them, to the middle of the floor. As soon as they made contact with the floor, thy would bounce and then float within the middle of the floor. The one on the left floated lower then the other one, and began to emit golden and hite strands of energy, while the other left a cold chill as it released purple and black energy. They would both flow in the same patterns, the energy enwrapped the dolls while turning and spinning. The now small ball of gold and white, and ball of black-purple, would phase a form. An image of the gold one would look to be engulfed with large white transparent lily pedals, a face that matched as tree roots and brances exited the form. The roots would swallow the form, eventually changing into a young boy, looking no more than 14, clothed in black school uniform, not a branch in sight. Here stood Auriel, looking to his summoner, and bowed with a single arm in his middle area and right arm outward. The other form would show a odd looking demon, forming and shrinking into a taller man with silver hair, and markings on his neck. This man, named Orion, wore the same clothing as the younger person that stood mere feet from him, and would look to Uriel wish a depressed scowl on his face.

"Gentleman, please escort these two to the suite.", Uriel spoke to the two summoned individuals, but his eyes stood on Auriel the most, tossing him the keys. The two would attempt to guide the Queen and her familiar to the elevator, located pass the stairs. If they followed, the elevator would open before they got to the door. Auriel and Orion would smile as the two would get into the elevator, and if the queen and partner entered the elevator, red velvet on the surface of the walls, with 11 buttons. If they decided to enter the elevator, it would take them to the 10th top button, the elevator door would open, and lead to short hallway with two doors, opening the left door to a rather large suite. Auriel would speak to them, his voice soft, unable to truthfully determine his sex, as his gender continiously would switch from male to female, and back. Orion, obiously a man, would say nothing.

"The room on the left is the master bedroom, the one on the right is your guest room. There are bathrooms in both, and a balcony in your room. If you wish it, the Establishment can produce a full five sensory mirage on your balcony to whatever you like." He would point to what would look like a finger print scanner next to the balcony door. "Place your hand on that machine, and imagine what you will, it will build an image including tempature, sounds, scents and anything else as you place. But please remember, it is only a mirage. Orion here will be posted by the elevator, should you need anything. He happens to be a good cook, I do hope the presence of Vampires doesn't put you off." Orion would look to the smaller silvered hair boy and kicked him in the back of his leg. HE still didn't speak. Auriel continue to speak to the two. "If you choose to stay, please be advised that this particular room is stocked with a mini bar, but all uncommon drinks must be either retrived from downstairs, or Orion can fetch it for you, like a good vampire dog."

Again, Orion kicked the back of his leg, this time a little harder.

"Thank you for your stay, is there anything you need from me?" He would hand them the key, the second key pocketed by Orion.

[Nyx Hemera]

Remaining silent during the interaction between the poisoner, his mistress and the man with the curious eyes, the woman would study them quietly. It would appear they'd be staying a while, for they would ask for a room key and slowly make their way toward the stairs. Her gaze would slip back to the other Uriel, indeed it was a series of events.. Just when she was starting to get used to that darker little demon.

"A tour... I suppose. I'm sure things are different from the last time I was here."

Her gaze would shift to the direction the other woman was in, the shadowed woman recognized the aura and that sweet tang of her blood. Inwardly, she smiled. Things were starting to slip back into place, the thread of their wyrds now became tangled.

[ Sorry it's kind of short, I've got to get ready to go and get some xmas shopping done. .-. ]

[Alzerina]

Alzerina watched as the part of Uriel that was chaos started to cause some havoc. She had seen this side of him before and knew how destructive it could be. She was not completely worried, however, since it seemed that Uriel was able to control him when he was but just a shadow of his true potential. Alzerina watched with fascination as Uriel seemed to call part of the image back into his body, while projecting a part of him to control what was left of Chaos.

Trusting Uriel wholeheartedly, she didn’t even pull back when he reached for her wound. A wince did twist her face as his hand was pressed against it, her hands flying to her legs and gripping hard. Biting down on her lip trapped the curse that was about to fly out her mouth. She felt the magic being undone and knew that Uriel was spending extra energy to keep the pain at bay. When she felt the process complete, she let out a slow exhale and was glad to feel that some of the pain had left the wound. She would tell that the magic that prevented the healing was taken care of.

Alzerina looked up at Uriel after quickly inspecting the wound, happy to see that it was already starting to close. It wasn’t closing as fast as it should have because she had been living off of animals for the past several days, but it was closing. Alzerina recognized the exhaustion on Uriel’s face as soon as she saw it, having seen it too many times to count in their past. He was always there for anyone that needed it and she was afraid that might push him past his limit one day. All she could do was try to be there for him and offer him comfort when he needed it.
Alzerina lifted her left hand and caressed his cheek with it as a smile spread across her face. He had saved her many times before and the gratitude she always felt afterwards was impossible to put into words. She only hoped he knew how much he meant to her.

“I am perfectly fine now, thanks to you.”

Alzerina’s hand left his cheek only to lace her fingers with his.

“There are no words to describe how happy I am to see you.”

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she blinked a few times to keep them at bay. Alzerina squeezed his hand while her thumb slid over the back of his hand. She looked over to the bar to see that the situation was now under control. It would be a shame if the new customers that they were receiving were scared away. She looked forward to the rooms of this establishment to be teeming with life once again. With that in mind, she turned back to Uriel.

“Whatever help you may need getting this place back up and running again, I am here.”

Alzerina knew that for as much as this place meant to her, it meant a thousand times more to the man sitting on the couch with her. She knew that it was more than just a business to him. The fact that he had returned and fixed it up like he did proved it to be so. Alzerina silently cursed herself a bit for being too afraid to keep it going herself. This was a small way to make up for that.

[Alzerina]

Alzerina watched as the other Uriel left with a guest, happy to see that they weren’t thinking of leaving just yet. She smiled, knowing that he tour would be thorough. Uriel was always proud of the building and all the secrets it had. It had her silently wondering if he had added anything new since she had been gone.

Her attention shifted when the Uriel next to her stood up and started for the bar. Her brows furrowed, almost opening her mouth to tell him to sit back down. It seemed the undoing of the magic used more energy then she thought. She was glad when he reached the bar, thinking that he was going to drink something that would help him recover his energy. Alzerina swallowed hard when she saw him pick up the vial of blood that had been left behind by one of the patrons. Her eyes stayed locked on the vial but her mind started to wander. She knew it was the blood of a newborn without the guest’s words to have to tell her. Knowing what the blood could do to someone like her, Alzerina was always careful to avoid it. She had seen too many vampires go mad from the addictive quality of the blood.

As Uriel started back to the couch with the vial in hand, Alzerina lifted her hands in front of her as if to ward off the blood. She swallowed hard and was about to open her mouth to argue against it when Uriel lifted the vial to his own lips. As the blood disappeared into his mouth, Alzerina noticed for the first time that his arm was bleeding profusely. She gasped, realizing that the blood had enthralled her to the point where nothing else registered.

Coming back to her senses, her eyes locked on the bleeding forearm before her. Her body knew what it wanted as her mouth all but opened on its own. Alzerina placed her hands on his arm and pulled it the few inches to her mouth. Without the need to puncture the skin, she skipped straight to gulping the red liquid down. Her eyes closed as she felt the warmth start to spread through her body immediately. A soft moan escaped her mouth and vibrated his arm slightly.
If one were watching, one would see the wound start to close as an increasing rate. After a few moments, the wound was nothing more than a pink line on her skin. Alzerina slowed her drinking and then finally stopped, licking the wound on Uriel’s arm to slow the bleeding. With her hands still clutching his arm, she looked up into his eyes and smiled warmly.

“Thank you, Uriel.”

She kept her hands on his arm, not wanting him to get the silly idea of going anywhere after just being fed on. After healing her and then feeding her, she knew that his energy levels must be very low.

“I want you to rest, Uri. If anything needs done or you need anything personally, please let me know. It is the least I can do for what you have done for me.”

Thinking about the words she just said, she chuckled to herself. With everything he did for her in the past combined with today, there was no way she was going to be able to pay him back properly.

She owed him her life.

[Vv-UrieL-vV]

OOC: wound up deleting last post by accident... so if you didnt read it...

The uriel with Carnival took her to the other room and explained the red room that was meant to be a war room and smokers lounge. He is waiting on her approval before he moves... and URiel with Alzerina grabbed flask and drank the blood while feeding Al his own

now, back to the Amazing tales of CRIMSON BLOOD!


Uriel would tip off the entire flask, allowing the blood to filter through and enter Alzerina. He was rejuvinated, but still weakened. After he had her fill and kept her grip, Uriel would stretch slightly, and sat next to his love. The wound healed oddly, not as if tissue replaced, but as the sides of the opening became like water, meeting and melding. His arm would become something like Buu, less mass and more liquid, but then as the opening was gone, his arm solidified. His techniques were ever changing; each trip to hell made a new creature, stronger, and less human... but he was no where near human anyhow. A conduit between the two, his energy would now swim within Alzerina, flowing between the strands of her aura, mixing and fusing, beconing a host of something yet to develop.

Uriel would close his eyes slightly, forgetting that not once since he left Death, he has not eaten, nor slept. He would look to her, a smile as he rested his head on her lap, looking up to her. His head would nuzzle in, his hair would take life slightly and knead her lap to make it slightly more comfortable. It could possibly freak her out, but maybe not. His remaining voodoo toll would fall pas her thigh, hanging on the invisible thread that may or may not exist. Food was on his mind, amongst other pleasures he has long since experience, but this... this was perfect.

"What happened to you? After I left, I mean..."

[The DLC]

[ OOC: It's been a while since I've seen the name, Leonardo. It's been a longer time since I've seen his RP guide... Good memories. Might I join in, or is this a semi-private club? ]

[Execute the Pope]

As with the universe and all other universes it was light that came to me first...

The overwhelming brilliance of a night moon filtered through in greyscale, shattering the blackness that preceded it. Ever slowly, the pantheon colors of the visible light spectrum added their swaying beauty to the picture: the muted blue haze of light pollution blotting out the stars in the night sky, the silent greys and rustics of the trash-littered streets and crumbling facades. Surprisingly the night was dead except for tomcats and mice skulking about in the shadows of cluttered alleyways and through the rising breath of exhaust grates. Watchful eyes took in the sights of a city past its prime, the bloated and slowly desiccating corpse of industrialism and the coin-flip downturn of what was once striking contemporary progress. It was apparently late and the city had put itself to sleep early in its old age, as old things were wont to do. Occasionally a car would slip down the street and into the network of clotted and collapsing veins connecting the broken tissues of the thing. The view changed steadily as its source moved forward, unaware of itself. Chipping paint was replaced with cold cinder block, replaced with matte concrete, replaced with openness. Still frames of a moving picture slid, one after the other, into recent memory- retrospective memory. And so the senses flipped on of their own accord, one by one...

Then the sounds of life returned...

Sirens wailed their melancholy song in the distance. Nearby a homeless man could be heard rustling in a dumpster behind some restaurant. The high keening of electrical apparatuses set a backdrop to the subtle communiqués of the city. Various and sundry, the sounds shifted and changed near-imperceptibly as the movement of their receptors continued its pace toward whatever location it was approaching. Tones and pitches faded and rose, things came and went. They were familiar, the myriad noises that called out, but somehow quite different now than they had been some long while past. It was more the sound than the sight of the beast that allowed for what came next.

And an awareness was bestowed upon me...

Aware. A tall, gaunt man in a stark white suit stands at the cusp of a hungry, Cyclopean maw. Between huge, greyed marble jaws he eyes the throat of the monster and absent-mindedly fingers a necktie of such oddity that, while of definite color, is- for most- absolutely impossible to place. His milky skin is barely discernible from that white of the suit adorning him, only in its mirror-like sheen and slight reflection, his crimson hair kept bound at mid-back length. His fingers, which seem to number anywhere between ten and sixty, are adorned with a multitude of silver braid rings. The rings, as so much of the man, seem to almost invisibly undulate and writhe upon his shifting hands without- as so much of the man- ever really moving. Deep red hues fix solidly upon the blackness before him and without another moment's pause he raises a black loafer-clad foot and steps into the giant's mouth. His heels don't click down the musty cobble of the alleyway and, even to the most perceptive ears, his sleek nose and ivory lips draw no breath.

For that, I am not grateful; I am without opinion, without belief...

He strode down the greedy encumbrance of the dead by-way until reaching its end with some small note of satisfaction. It was not until beholding the sight of a dimly lit sigil that his awareness was met with a torrent of memory. 'What am I doing here?' he asked himself before immediately purging the silly question from his mind. He wasn't sure how long it had been since his awareness had last surfaced in a form he so readily recognized, but he didn't tarry long upon the grounds of questioning. Invisible sentries who knew some of his names and faces watched him from either side of the ever-rusting, ever-decaying wrought iron gate bearing the same sign. It was a home, indeed... one that had not been too long lost. The figure passed through without trouble and sauntered silently up to a pair of cast iron doors awaiting his entrance. They opened at his behest and he walked into something so familiar it might've almost caused the corners of his lips to move a micrometer.

Auroch hadn't been to the Crimson Blood in what seemed, to him, like an eternity. Granted, it was hard for him, anymore, to count even the nanoseconds as anything other than eternities themselves. His mind had long since compartmentalized itself and would occasionally allow itself to be thrown into a state of almost robotic dormancy to maintain his lasting attempt at a functional, conversational consciousness. It was out of this torpor that he'd awakened at the throat of the alley leading to the Crimson Blood. Not one to question himself, he'd entered and found the place alive and well- or at least more alive than it was and measurably less than it had been. And where were Uriel? Raven? Alzerina?

"The lights are on, so somebody's home," he cooed gently as he stepped forward toward the quartz bar he'd spent so much time at in what seemed like another life. He hadn't quite taken a look around yet as he mechanically made his way to the bar stool he'd always claimed in the past; there was no reason to be on guard at this place... or really at all, for that matter. Upon sitting heavily in that selfsame stool he called out, "Anyone awake?" and found that he rather enjoyed the trite poetry of his inquiry.

~{If I'm not mistaken it's an open bar, though there is an OOC thread linked in the first post.}~