- Report Post
- Posted: Thu, 06 Dec 2012 03:31:00 +0000
[Location: The Ons/ Specifics: An Adjacent abandoned basement to one of the condemned building/ Status: Boys and their toys...]
The Irish blood sucker himself rose much earlier then your casual Nosferatu. Even as the dusk hit, those dark rings stirred. Pools of shimmering red would snap open in the utter darkness. The creature had long since been awake at this point. Cronin was dressed more casually then usual on this night. In not but gray Dickies, a black button up long sleeve dress shirt and tactical combat boots... This was a far cry from the gentlemen in black that had quarted a slayer and death to gain a valued prize. Not just the blood of a above average mortal, but a fledgling of unimaginable potential. That main of silver was pulled into a pony tail save a few unruly strands that curtained his ghost white visage. The Sire waited for his child to rise. As lazy as a newborn child could be, it wasn't too deep into the sun's departure that his lovely awoke. Despite the coffin lid blocking off the view of the marble skinned beauty in black miniskirt and high heels; Cronin knew her eyes had opened. Her consciousness had risen to the surface of the murky innards of her mental pool. Confusion. Hunger. Want. Confusion. It wasn't long before that already uncanny freshly imbued strength brushed her stone coffin lid open easily.
She rose like a lily in the night, tussled, dirty, blood covered, and beautiful.
"Welcome back... I trust you had a name?"
What you and I would consider a terrifying visage otherwise appeared to be the most entrancing thing imaginable to this freshly risen undead vixin. This was more so the infatuation that a fledgling will hold with their sire. It's hard to share the blood of something and not be drawn together. This goes twice as deeply for a strain of vampirism so pure and rich as this creatures. The pale beauty would respond in a detached voice. Distant. Hollow. Broken.
"Tiff it is... forget the rest... your ties in life won't serve what you are now."
Even as she soaked in the words the new born was staring at the world her mortal eyes had never been capable of. Finite details, sharper scents, crisper sounds... Every single car in passing so many miles away was like a roaring distraction. The vibrations themselves were easy enough to pick out and distinguish from the mere foot steps of mortals.
"You're not a mortal anymore my dear Tiffy...A part of you knew that though right?"
As far as a slayer being turned vampire, this was something to be truly feared. Perhaps even lamented. Though certainly Cronin wasn't about to let things rest so easily.
"You did have friends who helped you with your work didn't you... Should we pay them a visit?"
A frown flashed over that countenance. The young girl couldn't have been past twenty two. She probably had deep dies with those who trained her. Those who armed her. Those her provided support when she otherwise couldn't go to anyone who a young person normally could. Surely there were plenty of little strings to be cut. She probably knew exactly why she'd been turned. The real problem was that she couldn't find her own will to fight the suggestion. Her blood was no longer her own. Her soul had been drained the night before. Her memories had been raided and she'd been forced to gaze upon a heart shattering seen of the life of a ******** Irish Blood Sucker. Not only had Cronin's memories served as a reminder of what he was capable of. It served as a object lesson to the former slayer.
"And if I turn on you?"
"I gave you this life my dear? Do you think I can't take it away?"
That shark toothed grin blossomed between the two. Cronin's expression that of pure joy in the notion that his fledgling was learning their relationship so quickly. Tiffany's smile was a nervous one that mimicked her sire out of fear. Did he smile at the thought of her growing up the way he imagined? Or the thought of not leaving a single drop this time? Either way, the sire and fledgling would set out into the slums hand in hand. Like a wise gray haired father and his young beautiful daughter.
Rat hunting for little slayer cronies as it were...
Also there was the matter of getting some fast food for the newly risen child of night. Cronin wasn't feeling peckish himself... This city would be painted red entirely within a few weeks for certain.