Saint Luther of Innocence Church

[[Jackpot]]

Emerging from the inner sanctum of deep meditation, a plethora of pain ejected from the heart of the creature who thrived on pleasure, pain and unconditional suffering of those less fortunate. Self-inflicted agony was by far the most luscious and abundant in the category of passion for this man. His eyes widened, there was no reason to take a moment to enjoy the evening, the aesthetics in nature sustained their admiration from Jack many, many years ago. He leaned forward with slow movements, landing on his hands and his fingers digging into the dirt. His left leg was never the same after a brutal and momentous uproar with his brother, Augustus – for all eternity he has the blood of his brother running rampant amongst his leg, causing abysmal pain which cannot be cured. It is the will of his brother, and a will which cannot be undone. A shaky right leg pulled towards a corrupted chest, which contained a beating heart covered in the filth, diseases, and forsaken truths of those slaughtered by this creature. His heart cried, but obeyed the commands of his body. In quiet contemplation his body rose, but was abruptly interrupted with the souls of the damned escaping his body – resulting in massive amounts of blood to be strewn from cracked and blackened lips. A proud and dedicated man; taking the back-side of his right hand, covered in his favorite black leather gloves were used to wipe away the excess.

He began to make his way onto the streets, a massive and glorious church within his view, almost within his grasp. To be a vampire in his mind was a sin, it went against all morals of the human code and those who were blessed and cursed with immortality should be punished. It was so enticing to watch as the world around you changed, but you were and are just a grain of sand begging to be washed away. It did not matter where you ended up if you survived the waves of misfortune, it was in the best interest of those around you that you never sought the idea of return.

Jack came to a halt, ‘that’s close enough’ he whispered to himself. Words were choked, rough and sounded like his body hasn’t said a word in years. A church was no place for him, for he was not a man – faith, forgiveness and confessions did not apply to him. Each step closer to the doors penalized him, pinching ever so slightly on his weakness. No matter what you were, where your powers lied, what you were truly capable of, you had a weakness. His darkened and red eyes were carefully turning into a void of serenity; he collapsed a few hundred feet from the church. Brittle knees felt like they shattered against the earth beneath him, binding him and all his sins so he was immobile. His shades yearned for his eyes, but the tie between them was severed and they landed a few feet away from his grasp.

Tears could be seen emerging from blackened eyes. His right hand reaching deep into his inner-left coat pocket. If you were ever a witness of such an act, your death was certain. Was it a rose to be placed over your lifeless body, or a weapon which would be used to send you back to your maker? He had neither. He reached farther into his pocket, gently grasping a folded piece of paper – it was old, the occasion in which for it was saved is truly unknown. Pulling the paper out of his pocket, it clipped his jacket and he lost his grip. He was speechless, there was not enough energy to mutter the words he wished to say.

The folded piece of paper caught the wind of God and landed several feet in front of him. It became unfolded, words that were written in blood from an abundance of victims read “Please lord, help me leave all my anger behind….”  

[Serena Magik Novello]

Though looking out through the only piece of clear stained glass there was, she had seen a familiar red and black ensemble, one that made her look twice, automatically she had stopped listening for that fraction of frozen time, no pun intended with what was going on right there beside her, but now...Now something else had her immediate attention.

And that was when total recognition dawned in her eyes as her mouth fell softly open.

:"No. Christ no."

Swearing in a church might have been something she would have never dreamed before, never even contemplated, but she'd fought demonlords, heck, fought alongside this man. And that was when she quietly spoke a word for Windwalk, blurring out of sight for a moment before she took to the Ethereal Plane, arriving past the iced door to be standing on the stairs only outside where Priest and August were speaking. Her silhouette would be back lit by whatever little dim lighting was currently inside the church, letting both of them see where she had gone, and she hadn't even thought twice to go to him in this his time of need or perhaps his final moments.

She knew how dangerous the man could be, but she'd fought with him, fought against him, fought to keep him from killing and then even kept to keep him from giving up. And now there he was...at the bottom of the stairs, apparently reaching out for help? He couldn't have known she was in town, right? Her sapphire eyes took in the damage, her eyes saddened seeing the state he was in.

Taking each step slowly but with determination, she stopped, laptop case still strewn over her shoulder, hanging at her side as her own leather gloved hand reached down as she crouched down beside him, hoping she could get to safety fast enough should his instincts kick in. A leather bound index and middle finger came out slowly, shakingly picking up the paper to read it, taking in the words written there and she swallowed hard, blinking back tears of her own. This was one thing she had run from Auria to prevent. More dying. More people she cared about. She knew this man was far from perfect. No one was. She remained crouched down, looking up towards the nighttime sky as if it held all the answers.

"It's Been awhile, Jack. Wish We would have met on....better terms again."

She wasn't sure he'd remember her, let alone know where he was, what he was doing. Her voice came out quietly, another moment stuffing that note he'd written into her white leather trenchcoat pocket, not minding the blood that now smeared the opening above it. Another reason she never wore white,but the smile showing on her face was forced, mainly to try to convey a calm she didn't really seem to be able to feel deep down anymore. She hadn't made peace with all of her demons yet. Literally speaking of course.

That same gloved hand reached over for those shades, picking them up where they'd fallen out of reach and she wiped the lenses off on her shirt, one had to be presentable right? Even when the odds were against them. "The anger does destroy doesn't it? Everyone? Everything? Consumes it like a brightly burning fire no one can stop. Did you stop your brother, Jack?" A question she didn't want to ask, but had to. Even as she painstakingly leaned over, carefully placing those shades over the man's eyes. It was sort of like getting a cadever ready to bury, but this one was still moving and hopefully capable of speaking. "Did you come here to seek final peace, Jack? Or salvation? One Man's salvation might very well be one Man's Damnation. I Can help...If you want help. Either way..." She swallowed hard again, the human body's inability to deal with so much sadness in one moment of time.

Her blonde hair she had to reach up to carefully keep from hanging down, trying to keep blood away from her clothes, her body, everything. It was scary. Scary to know you'd deliver the killing blow if he only asked.

Scary to know you'd gladly slit your own wrist and endure the pain of having this madman possibly drink your life away, but to save a life...what wouldn't she do? She bit her lower lip, trying to stave back tears that again threatened to fall as she simply sat down on the lowest stair of the church, under what moonlight there was and waited to see if he was still capable of talking. The two inside would wonder why she wasn't calling an ambulance.

Maybe it was because it wasn't him that might need saving, but those who were coming to "rescue" him. Her hands went back to rest on her kneecaps, knowing any healing that she could do would instantly send him into yet another wave of massive pain. It wasn't what the man needed right now. And again, she was faced with a dilemma and a choice it seemed. Especially one she was afraid to make, if she had to make it on her own.

"Speak to Me, Jack Giovanni. Let me know whats going on in that head of yours. I wound up leaving my gun in my hotel. So no conversations the easy way." She smiled sadly at the first meeting of these two, and didn't want to think about this possibly being their last.  

[[Jackpot]]

The eternally voided and black excuses for eyes peered open, like a shot of adrenaline being pumped into his heart. His senses eluded him, but his heart fled not into the temptation of passion and lust – an unmistakable dream of pleasure. He knew his body was rejecting him when the familiar scent of an angel was lackluster. It’s not every day you get the privilege of being with this woman, a glimmering star in the night when no other lights can be seen. There have been days where he longed for her, where he hoped she could intervene in the atrocities he committed while separated from her. They spent nights together doing things which they both can look back upon with regret, sadness, guilt, but most importantly to any true human being, happiness.

His terrified, but gentle eyes watched in despondency as she used a hand to reach for the folded and blood crusted piece of paper which escaped his grasp; a clenching force which was enough to leave imprints into the railing of a pier. He listened to her words, replaying the phrase ‘wish we would have met, wish we would have met…’ in his head. He truly did wish they had met prior to this excruciating and nearly debilitating moment. He tried to respond, his jaw only opened because he had not the energy required to keep it up. Instead, a few specks of his own blood trickled to the ground which was in the realm of the Holy.

The breaths he took were intensifying, he used them to endure the covetousness which was every vampire’s requiem – a thirst and desire for blood. It was fueled by her scent, an unforgettable, powerful, and pure aroma. Did he dare to lift his head? Was he worthy of such a view?

His eyes slowly began to merge to the light which was amongst him. His first sight was golden hair, it was so luscious, yet blinding. Was this his calling? When his view was finally focused on her, he could not help but close his eyes from the aura of light that was blinding to a creature of his stature. It was almost a sin to let your eyes rest on such beauty. Her physical appearance and attire could not be more fitting, or more repulsive. Was she to be the savior, or the executioner?

Only time will tell…

When his eyes and soul adjusted to the new-found brightness, he blinked furiously to take in the environment. This woman took his shades, wiping them clean on her white coat, allowing herself to get dirty for the sanctity of this man. It was sadly one of the most exciting moments in his life. It was like a mother licking her finger to wipe the dirt off their child’s face. Jack listened carefully to her speak of anger, which was only brought up from the sheer fact she read the note which he failed to keep within his barely fearsome grasp.

The ground beneath him began to shake mildly, it was a reflection of the dark vs. light feuding in his heart. He drug one knee at a time, feeling the trembling of his bones – closer and closer to her. The tears strolling down his cheek were his words; the pain he endured in the moment. Jack quickly lashed out to grab her by the collar of her jacket, pulling her face as close as possible to his own. Decades of blood encrusted fangs sought revenge from their solitude and made their presence known. “…” he coughed, and coughed. The vocal chords were distraught, they were fighting any chance of being used. He pushed on, muttering to her “you know nothing of anger.” His head drooped, coughing once more – spewing mucus and blood onto her jacket. Without his consent, the grip which he held on her jacket was forced to subside, and he fell onto all fours again. She questioned him about his brother, Augustus Giovanni. He was as close to the Devil’s right hand man as it got. A true and seemingly heart-felt vampire would kill only what is necessary to survive, which is what Jack strived to do.

Augustus was not one for that type of game. He has his own sacrifices waiting to be made a meal for a man who felt nothing. Jack truly believes God has stripped his brother of his noble senses. When he set out to fight his brother, he knew he would not win. What gives a person the idea and strength to fight when the loss is imminent? Is it pride, courage? Perhaps it was faith. Her words pained him immensely, Jack knew exactly what she meant in her tone, her actions. A simple shot to his heart would be the best and most fortunate gift he was ever blessed with, but he did not deserve such simplicity. The man wanted to come face to face with faith. He wanted and needed to be judged.

The blood in his mouth came swiftly back down into his body with a rugged swallow. His nostrils flared and he looked back up at her. “..I… deserve..”

It was so cold, his hands were losing the blood flow to them, his heart would not allow him the pleasure of feeling her. Jack raised a bruised arm to her cheek where he placed his hand there. It was like a pack of ice being slapped against your gentle face.

“DEATH!” The hand he placed there fell like a limp noodle with his arm falling idly. His body fell flat against the ground in front of her. The skin on his cheek scraped badly, the blood that was left in his body went to the source of the wound to try and close the cut. His shades shattered in pieces, the crumbs finally free from the grasp that was his own. Tears were once again forming; his body shaking wildly, and the only sound he made was a sinister compound of giggles and demonic laughing.

He wished to lie on his back so he could see her face, but the energy was lacking.

Was this the end?  

[Serena Magik Novello]

So much blood. Everywhere. She knew very well it wasn't his own that beat through his heart, coursed through his veins, and yet, she still could not being herself to judge him. She'd known him well before he had lost his mind. Least in her mind, it seemed she had. Was it him that had grown more insane over the years or was it simply she was losing her hold on own lately? She only kept from busting down into tears because she knew, chances were, if you questioned your own sanity, you were safe. It was when you started to let everything slip through the cracks that it all went to hell.

Her eyes never left his shielded by those tinted shades, trying to avoid the damage done by himself or his victims, maybe even his own damned brother. If she had been more than human, or even had more courage and strength, maybe back then, she could have caught Mr. Augustus Giovanni off guard and helped Jack end the man's existence. But she had been too worried about her own back in those days. That and she knew, Jack was a soldier in his own right. He'd want that kill for himself. Loyalty and Respect for this man who was possibly laying there dying kept her from acting when she should have. Was this man a monster? Again, she dared to look down at his coat that was usually in pristine condition, knew those hands had killed so many and yet, where was her fear, her sense of self preservation? It was shock that surely had her sitting there, almost weeping for this man. She could no more say this man was a monster than perhaps call herself one for trying to ignore those who might have needed her while she was going through her "I can't deal with this" Phase. And heck if she still wasn't. She was being selfish and greedy. Acting like a child who wasn't getting her own way, right? If people needed her, then she should be there...

And that was when she hadn't realized the man had been trying to get closer. And she felt hands lashing out to grasp the collar of her trench, bent over forward to peer down into that face, see over to those eyes hidden beneath those shades, to see the sharpness of those incizors. All that she had let out was a sudden intake of air, the laptop around her waist shifting enough that she had to block it from swinging down to hit the man upside the head with an elbow in place. Of course, her eyes had to wince as he coughed in her place, but she couldn't and wouldn't reprimand a dying- dying man.


She remained frozen, eyes looking down at those gloved hands on her lapel and all she could think of was how it might possibly be the last time. Or how easy it would be to snap her neck. Trust was such a double-edged sword. And those bloody tears coursing down his cheeks made her instantly raise her hands up to cover his hands there on her lapel. Not minding the knowledge of how many he had killed, how he might kill her. No. She wanted to comfort this man, somehow reach in and take away his pain, but she knew it was pain he had carried for centuries. When he spoke that she knew nothing of anger, all she could muster was a sigh, feeling his hands slip out from her soft hold on his. Glancing down at yet more blood and more mucus on her coat. She'd had nightmares about this much blood covering her, but she'd had more before. BUt it never made it any easier.

When he fell to all fours, she gently removed the laptop case strap from around her shoulder, leaving it sit on the church steps. She closed the distance, kneeling down beside the fallen vampire. "I might not know as much anger as you've had in your existence, Jack...but I've had my share. Watching those I care about come and go. Watch them fight the good fight and lose and turn to dust. It isn't easy...and sometimes, I even get mad at myself when I know I could have helped...somehow... and I didn't allow myself to." She attempted another sad smile, but shook her head at this admittance, being angry at herself for not doing all she could have...was always what she'd do. "So this time, if you ask, if you want me to, I can help..." She extended her hands out, black gloved hands reaching out to him as if offering him the light and forgiveness he had been asking for, but lord knew she didn't have any right anymore to act as an angel of mercy. But for this one moment, she wanted to be his.

As Jack put his gloved hand on her cheek and she felt how cold it was, she shivered. It had literally felt like someone had walked over her grave. And the tears came then, blinding free flowing ones that started to make what stray strands of hair blow their way start to stick to her face. And then Jack was falling, falling down in front of her, and a hand came up to cover her mouth, her sobs coming now in rapid attempts to breath clearly. Eyes wide watching his body convulse, and that laughter, that laughter if he died the tue death at that moment, would wind up haunting her for the rest of her life.

And then, her hands were on his lapel, her knees digging into the mud and blood that he had kicked up trying to get to the church had caused. Using what body weight she had to flip him over. Crying out loudly once as she mustered all of her strength to turn the man over to face the sky and hopefully his mind was still in peace and he was salvagable somewhere inside. "NO! You don't deserve death! Listen to me, Jack! Death is the coward's way out...You have to survive! Survive and fight for what you believe in. You are...not..your..brother, Damnit!" How she winced when she said those last words, but she knew this man, this body was fueled by anger and damned if she wouldn't use that anger to hopefully force him to fight to live. At any cost. She leaned over the man, now covered mostly in blood and mud and after tonight, she really needed a bottle of something that would burn going down. But damned if she was going to just let this man go quietly into the night, for good.

She took her gloved hand and brushed those pieces of his shades that had shattered off of his face, and dusted it off. "You have two choices, I know you've had it rough. I might not know the whole story...but I'll be damned if you're just gonna curl up into a ball and die. Not without realizing it's really what you want, not what you think you deserve! You're still a good person, Jack. A bad person wouldn't have gotten this far. Remember that. Now... What DO you want? I'm here...Ask me and I'll do it. Just don't die on me without a fight? Not without a chance to say good bye?" Her voice had gotten quieter than she had even realized, and another point of realization dawned on her. She'd surrounded herself by people who weren't supposed to die very easily. And yet, she was down to almost no one. Her worst fears were coming true, after all.

She used her right hand to tug off her left handed glove, knew he'd know what she implied. Eyes locked with him the whole time. "I know if you take my blood, I know it would hurt like nothing I've ever felt before, Jack. I've done my studies. Doesn't it tell you anything about your character, that I'd glady do it in a heartbeat if I knew it could help you?" She used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears from her face. "Ask me...ask of me anything. And I would almost do it. BEcause I want to, because I care. Even if it's this...death that you want. But I think something like that, would need to be...planned and not just decided on the spur of the moment.." She sighed heavily, keeping another wrack of sobs from escaping.

"I cann't convey in words...how this is tearing me in two, seeing you like this..." And when the ex cleric was speechless, it was either going to get very turbulent or she was just too numb for words. The trace of tears on her face told it all. An offered hand, a bent neck even, salvation or more damnation being offered. But she could not force him to drink or to die.

The decision was his. The offer was hers.  

[BeautifulEclipse]

Priest looked to the male, "Do i seem dangerous to you, boy?" he asked darkly. The choice of words had caught his attention, 'instinctively necessary' did whatever part of the man that was causing the ice to form seem to think Priest was a danger. He supposed that would be a technically correct assumption, he was not an ordinary priest by any sense of the word. He looked to the girl, "Priest is fine," he sighed a little bit "Non, that is not the problem." he trailed off a little bit, "The problem is that this one seems to be unable to control whatever is causing this ice to form at my door. He is the worst kind of danger." he finished thoughtfully.

He looked over to the newcomer, he wondered where the hell he had come from. Perhaps there was a back door somewhere that he didn't know about. His hand tensed up a little as he eyes passed from the two that were in his church to the new intruder. "Vampire?" he murmured to himself he could feel his demon stir as the emotional display unfurled in front of them. He chewed on his lip as he pondered if there was something he should do.  

[[Jackpot]]

It has been said that the moments before your death or even shortly after, you get to experience and witness your whole life in a few, seemingly mediocre seconds. That would be the worst moment of his existence as a whole. There is no denying he loves being who and what he is, but there is also no doubt he has shame, regret and sincere remorse for what he is. In the eyes of the Lord, he would be considered an abomination – who you were does not account to your soul in its present state; thus, he is merely a virus which needs to be isolated and treated accordingly. Self-trepidation and continuous acts of memory portrayal in his mind was nothing but clouded, he tried to relive the days of his youth. It was in the deepest excavations of a forsaken heart which needed a pure drop of fundamental blood to coast through his body one last time to ensure a fallen man he was indeed a man.

The instincts of a vampire were in display when he realized he had grabbed the woman in front of him, a woman who devoted her entire life to helping others – especially those who could not help themselves. Was it for one last chance of mere pleasure he wished to be so close to her? Did his tongue yearn for the flesh of the living, of the young and of the pure? They were simple instincts of a blood-thirsty savage who should bow his head in the deepest sorrow he can dig himself into. When temptation is among those who are weak, you always give in to your desires. It combines the elements of the human body, the heart, the brain and the soul. His brain always cherished reason and logic, but when the heart craved – it craved.

His body fell limp in front of her and it felt like he was old for once. Too frail and fragile to be held on by mere skin, deteriorated muscles, and bones that were as pitiful as dried up sticks. Jack felt her lean in closer to him, taking the gap between them and making it smaller. She began to speak, but her words did not entrance his mind, did not penetrate his skull in which endured his near meaningless brain. ‘There it is….’ His lungs and body felt like he took the biggest drag from a cigarette as possible, for it was her scent that drove him mad. It reminded him so much of his home. It was where the immaculate sky would shine as blue and flawless as God himself would allow. Mother Nature refused to let the clouds take part in their duties of bestowing their darkness and blocking the light. He dreamed of the days where the grass was so tender, it was like laying in the snow to make angels and pretend everything was perfect. Jack remembered the smell, oh the smell of those roses; it was complete and utter sex appeal for your sense of smell. In that moment, it was like he was in a lucid dream – watching himself dance around with Mother Nature. She was so beautiful, she was so good to him…

Magik was still speaking to him, but he was forced to exit the planes of the dream world and accept reality for what it was, or what it soon will be. She made her remarks about anger, displaying and expressing her thoughts through her own sympathetic and seemingly reluctant tone. He had no right to make the assumption out of rage and sheer disarray that the woman before him knew nothing of anger. What truly defines anger? Is it when the bottle of your life is filled to the brim with the boiling blood of your own existence, transformed into raw and unstable emotion? The answer is truly endless; no two beings will ever think, feel, or view anything in the same manner – it’s the absolute beauty in being an individual, human or not.

When his body tortured him at the thought of survival, the biological tendencies of a healthy body turned to shambles and he crumbled like the leaves he used to sputter in his palm; his authority of death over the living. It was so strange to him when the table was turned. When Magik’s tears and sobs were nearly proliferating, it opened his eyes, it allowed him to focus. From her tears, all he could think about was if it was raining. He would love to be washed away into the planes of oblivion, floating on his back, drifting and holding his hands in prayer as he wished for peace.

It was not raining, he was not floating on his back - Magik used the strength and courage she had to overturn almost dead-weight. ‘I deserve this…..’ were the words racing across his heart. When she threatened him with the word coward, it churned what insides he had that were functioning. His body hunched up into a tight arch, it was like a demon being purged from a bloated belly. His stomach and abdomen growling and forcing him to exhale an echoing cry of century old pain and discomfort that roiled the ears of the dead. The fangs drenched in blood were becoming crusted and baked from the wind and atmosphere around them – his voice becoming altered and unstable. It was like a transformation of a human into a demon. “Leave me…. to… DIE!” More convulsions and constant back-breaking arches could be seen, his body slamming into the consecrated grounds below him.

The exorcism style scene soon came to a halt and he lie limp once more, it was like the force of all good in the world tried to purge him of his evils, sins and wrong doings – there was just too many in such a small frame. His eyes were tired, he was exhausted, his body feeling like he was chained for years and a whip sent to his back every minute of every day. Magik was his angel in this moment, in his dire time of need. It was so divine of this woman to lend her blood, to merely sacrifice herself for those who were damned and were deemed only worthy of a horrendous execution.

She knew very well one important and mandatory fact about this man – he was a vampire. It’s in his heart and soul to devour the crimson drink, to bleed the weak dry, to excavate the life in order to perpetuate his own. Why would she offer so much, to save so little? Faded eyes could barely focus on her, his vision was so blurred and disoriented from the lack of blood and oxygen and the thrusting of his body against the Holy ground.

It was so bright… for once he felt warm. The strand of tears on her face resembled rivers of pure enlightenment while the sun gave it his blessing – a reflective golden slate of purity, of momentary immortality and incandescent pleasure. “You were…. always so beautiful” his words were as close to a whisper as possible – the voice returning to someone you remembered; it was Jack Giovanni. He began to use his last bit of strength and crawled backwards to her, scraping his elbows and pushing off his hands to drop his head into her lap. It was the most intense and powerful steps he had ever taken. They were the first steps into true illumination, an unyielding pathway to his sanctity and peace. The tears he had flowed so gently down his cheeks, cleansing his face of any and all impurities, he needed to look as clean and sharp as he could – it was just in his nature. He hoped his thoughts would reach her, for his jaw could not muster another word. This was his time. It was not destiny, nor fate which brought him here. All he knew was that this was where he had to be.

And so, with everlasting hopes and eyes that slowly slid shut he addressed Magik through his heart –

“Please let the light take me….”  

[Serena Magik Novello]

Magik knew this had to be killing Jack. Not just the fact he had been beat up and bloodied so badly, but that she got to see him at what was probably the weakest he'd ever been. She didn't feel priviledged, no. Instead, she wished he'd right himself and carry on, even though she had an idea he was doing this to himself. He could have easily have stopped somewhere on the way to the church and helped heal his wounds with the blood of others. Let their healing magic work on knitting his bones, repairing his wounds. But instead, he had found the inner strength not to.

And for once, she wished he hadn't.

She would much rather have looked out the church and seen him shoot out the street light nearby or headed on his way to the pier in this city. He had always seemed to be attracted to the ocean almost as much as she had. Maybe there had been some sort of call it had put out that only they and other people could hear? And when he hadn't taken the bait to rise up and fight at her provocation, she hung her head in silence, even against the scream of his his wish, to let him simply die. She had to lower her head further, twist her hands together to not reach down to try to steady his body from convusling in what was probably lose of blood, his vampiric nature crying out for sustenance. She could only guess. And after his words had shattered the silence, all that followed was a heavy sigh coming from the woman sitting on the stairs again. Hands clasped together, elbows resting on her knees, and inside she knew it was this man's decision. She had to honor what he wanted. No matter how it bothered her. She hadn't known what he'd been through all the years she hadn't known him. And she knew it wasn't always easy for him.

She turned back as his body went still, her heart speeding up at the thought that he was gone already. Without saying goodbye, it would be empty. A meaningless chance to tell this man how special he had been in her life. How he had given her strength when she had vowed to give up. And that man was moving again, not standing up, but headed in her direction. Tears falling down onto his cheeks as his head ended up in her lap, to which she simply moved her hands to allow him to do so. She wouldn't run from him, wouldn't leave him alone in his possible last time of need. She cupped her hand over his cheek, using her thumb to brush aside her tears that had mingled with his. Then soothing back his hair behind his ear, trying to let him see the sun, if he wanted her to, she would sit there, holding him until it came up, until he would be nothing but dust on the wind. And she would endure it all, to offer him what little comfort she could. Her eyes were looking down into his, gloved thumb stroking against his cheek, shaking her head against his words. "It was all illusion, Jack. You saw what you wanted to believe about me, because you wanted it to be true. But thank you...." She choked up again, it was like sitting there, knowing that eventually they'd pull the plug on someone you'd go to visit in the hopsital...and that your time was limited. It truly was one of the hardest things she had to do. She had reached over, picking up his hat to let it rest over his chest, not wanting to put it back onto his head so she could see into those eyes. Eyes that he never really let anyone see most of the time.

The wind picked up a moment,but it wasn't so cold as it was chilly. As if someone wanted to freeze their tears from their faces. To help try to ease the pain both of them were going through. She kept smoothing her thumb across his cheek, hoping the contact would help keep him calm. Maybe help stave off some of the pain. But she knew she couldn't heal him with her powers without hurting him worse. Physical contact was all she could offer since she still harnessed hope he'd pull through. Hope was all she had over the years.

"I know it's hard to tell how mixed up you feel
Hoping what you need is behind every door
Each time you get hurt, I don't want you to change
Because everyone has hopes, you're human after all
The feeling sometimes, wishing you were someone else
Feeling as though you never belong
This feeling is not sadness, this feeling is not joy
I truly understand. Please, don't cry now

Please don't go, I want you to stay
I'm begging you please, please don't leave here
I don't want you to hate;
For all the hurt that you feel,
The world is just illusion, trying to change you

Being like you are
Well this is something else, who would comprehend?
But some that do, lay claim
Divine purpose blesses them
That's not what I believe, and it doesn't matter anyway
A part of your soul ties you to the next world
Or maybe to the last, but I'm still not sure
But what I do know, is to us the world is different
As we are to the world but I guess you would know that...

She had sang,her voice a quiet whisper not much different from a mother to a son, not sure why, it'd been a song that had helped her through her rough times, although the human part didn't help him relate she was sure, but it at least voiced how she felt. Smiling sadly as she looked down at him.

"If you want to do this, I Promise you now, I won't leave you until the sun rises. I don't have to like it, but I won't leave you alone." Her tears had blinded her eyes, unable to see anything but the colors red and the white granite of the stairs. She brushed his bangs back and over to tuck those behind his ears also. "We have awhile. I know it probably hurts to talk, I don't know what I should say. I feel as if...it's not my place to try to sway you if you want to go? Like I'm being selfish. But damn, do I wanna be selfish..." She sniffed, trying to keep from looking utterly lost. "Every talk we've ever had is always going to be special to me. Because you've blessed me with the chance to know you, to have really known you, you know?" She raised her free hand, using her glove to wipe at her eyes, smearing her supposedly smear proof mascara.

What else was there to say or possibly do when one of the dearest people who had graced your life wanted theirs to end? She swallowed hard, leaning down over Jack, letting her lips press against his forehead, leaving a warm, heartfelt kiss there, sighing quietly. "If you want me to go...just squeeze my wrist? If you want me to stay...hold my hand?" She reached down, lightly picking up his right hand gently in hers, nodding. If he couldn't speak, this would have to do and they could watch the sun rise together. "Offer still stands...all I'm saying too." She smiled down at him through tear stained eyes, but the smile on her lips was genuine. She was trying to make peace with whatever choice he might make. But whatever he choose, he would not go it alone if she could help it.  

[Lord Norin]

A quiet tapping sound, footsteps approaching. Despite the chaos of the night, the bloodshed and the horror, a quiet figure was making his way closer and closer to this place of sanctity. Pure white clothes reflected what little light showed in this dark hour, clothes that seemed to reject the stains and the filth of this world, the hardship and the blood.

The two upon the stairs were far too visible a thing even in this dark night, and so that somber and serene figure of seraphic hue spoke up into this shadowed space, a clear and strong voice that seemed in it's own way to reject the darkness.

"One is sorry to intrude, but in this place I can feel death approaching, and it is my solemn duty to oppose the end of life, no matter how it comes. I know that in this place I come unbidden and unwanted. But I have to ask... No, Beg for a moment of your time before you surrender to the darkness."

The man stepped forward, a face young under the rather militaristic cap, a heavy coat drawn tight around his body, but his arms free under it. Wearing it more as a mantle.

"In truth, I know you may not see me here as a mercy, but it is on an errand of mercy for which I come. People here call me Norin, and I swear by all our lives that I can help, if you let me."  

[Serena Magik Novello]

Magik held his head in her lap, helping to brace his body, she could feel how cold he was, then again, he was a vampire and he hadn't fed recently, so of course he would be colder. Magik's head remained down, struggling trying to find a place on where to look. His face which she was afraid might be the last time or to try to ignore the blood stains on his clothes. Blood that she knew was mostly his for once.

And that was when the confusion of someone who could talk interrupted her praying silently. Tears of pain shining against her cheeks as she looked over at the newcomer, noticing his pristine white clothes. But she, better than anyone, knew white wasn't always angelic. Now being on holy ground and outside of a church well, she had to entertain the thought. But angels didn't often interfere to protect the lives of vampires. Hypocrite she could have been if it had only been a life earlier. She would have gladly. Still was.

And she had almost forgotten to breath when the man began speaking. "I...appreciate your offer to help, but seriously, you have no idea the circumstances, Mr. Norin." She had to wipe again at the tears covering and blurring her eyesight. Another person so deadset against death almost seemed like a miracle to stumble across.

She paused looking down at the man laying there before her and then back up at the young man in his white coat. Such contrasts. Did this man know magic? Perhaps. Did he know the type of being that was on the verge of true death? She had no way of knowing at that moment, it would involve actual thinking. Instead she let her eyes fall to the man resting there. "It's up to you, Jack. Do you trust someone to help you? Do you think this man or I can help you? The night is wearing on....I don't think you're make tonight without..." And she let that simply fall away, because there was one thing that was all powerful, all healing to a vampire. But it seemed to be the one thing he was struggling against taking again.

It felt like someone was staring her down and holding her at gunpoint all over again.  

[Ten Tails]

August just stood at the window, watching the woman he had just met become entangled in something honestly beyond his comprehension. What could a human understand of the struggles of the paranormal. He had no words, and knew that he didn't belong there.

Something didn't agree with him. No one could see it, but deep within him that bit that had been giving him the frozen arts, was stirred by these events.

August didn't realize it at first, but he was clutching at his chest. The center mass of his chest cavity had become very cold. His lungs where so cold his breath was escaping his mouth as steam.

But he was too busy watching the drama play out to notice. He didn't feel the cold inside him, immune to it as he was. He glanced over to the priest who had said the magic word, "He's a vampire? Those exist? Seriously, like Dracula and Lestrat? She not...Gonna feed him is she?"

He turned back to looking at her and the man she was cradling. This was intense. Was this the way it was for supernatural creatures all the time? Was he really going to be apart of that.

Whorls of frost where decorating his shoulders and sleeves...August still failed to notice.  

[BeautifulEclipse]

Priest stirred a little bit, "For Christ's sake, hes bleeding all over the place." he muttered to himself in dismay. When he had first upon this place it took him the better part of a week to get it looking decent. He knew it was probably really callous of him to be more upset at the prospect of having to clean up after this mess then the very emotional display taking place in front of him. Though he really had no love for vampires, they were closely related to demons in his mind therefore they were to be destroyed if he happened upon them in his travels. He looked at the boy, "You are emanating ice and you're asking if vampires exist?" he was at a loss for words, "Good lord," the french-man sighed deeply. This boy would be as good as dead if left to his own devices. He pondered the other question momentarily, "Well if she intends to do so, she better take it out of my church." Priest was starting to sound more and more bitter as the time passed.

"Jesus, I'm starting to sound like Wesson," he mused to himself wondering if the man's personality had really started to rub off on him in all the time they had traveled together. He looked at the boy gain feeling the cold coming from him, "You... you're starting to, ehm, how should I say... look a little frosty," he said changing the subject. He could see whorls of frost starting make it's way down his arms.  

[[Jackpot]]

Without a blurred motion in his body, his nostrils began to flair wildly from the unsettling aroma that entangled his sense of smell. Normally he would cherish the ever long smell of things so pure, the blood of humans which were untouched, uninfected and seemingly unadulterated – the taste was incomparable. The probability of another being who sought to be so brave as to approach this man in such a dire state was appalling. It was like a predator coming in to the nest of a Mother to snatch her children; outsiders were not welcome and would have been dealt with accordingly. If only he had the strength to defend his nest, to protect the grounds in which he graced. Simply ironic considering his kind had no place in the holiest of surroundings. The Church simply drained him, or was that what he was led to believe? Was he only doing this to himself?

All he could do was lie there, practically motionless. He truly feared the day that death was imminent. Was this his day, is he so close to what he feared, yet dreamed? He stopped questioning himself when he felt Magik’s hands cradle his cheeks, slowly stroking them. It truly warmed his soul – restoring his self-lost faith in individuality amongst himself. He listened to the Crows nearby chirping away. Something about the screeching caw allured him deeply. Perhaps it was just the animal itself which he felt so drawn to. There were days and nights where he wished he could fly amongst them; be the darkness that they appeared to be. No, he wished to be a Raven – a truly demonic bird. He had to stop his mind from racing. Jack had endless, limitless thoughts that were flourishing.

When Magik spoke it took him several moments to recall what she was saying to him, and what it was in response to. Believed what I wanted, because I wanted it to be true? Illusions were just a false sense of reality that ignited the hearts of those unfortunate enough to be bestowed by misrepresentation. If her beauty was an illusion, then so was his entire life. Was it all misapprehension for the people he slaughtered, bit deeply into their veins and stole their very souls from their families? He was a murderer, a monster and an atrocity in the eyes of all living. Those memories relived into his mind – fueling his heart with unprecedented rage and lust which would drive anyone to sheer insanity. It was a thrill, pure adrenaline which could not be caged. Except in this moment. How he wished the darkened veins in his body would boil the infected and wretched blood that coursed through him.

But then she began to sing, it seemed so much easier for her to sing to him and out loud than it would to just speak to him directly. He was not in her mind, he could not read her thoughts and realize how she was feeling, if she was holding in raw emotion, if she wanted to stand up and leave him. After she began to brush the red colored bangs behind his ears to unleash the dirt and despair in his face, her words echoed through him immensely. How could anyone say they are blessed to know me.. Poor girl has no idea what it means to be blessed at all. He mustered up a smile as she wiped away her tears, smearing her mascara to make it seem like she had been crying for what appeared to be days.

He could not figure out why she would go to the ends of the Earth to save this inferior being; someone not worthy of the heavens. She would sacrifice her own blood, to set herself up for almost impending death, it was mind-boggling to him. Magik grasped his hand gently and placed it in her own. After she placed a sweet kiss to his forehead, it was a soothing burst of refreshment. It was like dipping your head into a cold bucket of water to wash off the pains and stresses of the day. She truly warmed him, and he was so thankful for it. He could not remember a time when anyone ever wished to get that close to him. It was either the hands of his victims trying to loosen his grip around their neck, or guns point-blank in his face. This was a new experience for him. With one finger at a time he pulled his hand shut around her own, to signal he wished for her to stay with him, whatever his decision may be…

His eyes flinched and squinted when a man dressed in all white approached him closer. It was the same predator he smelled only moments before. First impressions meant a lot to Jack, but something about this… man simply frustrated him. He had some nerve to disrupt the event unfolding – he was interfering in the plans that fate and destiny had set up for him. Jack opened his mouth, but was only accompanied by blood and excess mucous buildup.

He let the signal of his kind be seen, fangs that dripped blood from the corners of his mouth ran down his pale chin. With the warmth of the kiss and the soothing song that Magik sang to him, it calmed his body, but his heart still raged inside. His words were coarse again because he spoke with true tone and hardship. “I swear with all my lives… if I stand up once more…” Again, he was interrupted by his soul trying to depart from his body and escape into the nether. “I’ll kill you… boy.” At that moment he wished to take Magik up on her offer. An offer so daring to a human – especially one who would so openly sacrifice almost everything to save someone else. It just did not make sense to him. He just could not allow himself to take any part of her to heal himself. He was always a greedy man, who never stopped until he got what he wanted, but his heart would not let him harm her. Jack did not want to be seen or even feel remotely close to the state he was in, but that was long past the point of return. And it pained him deeply…  

[Lord Norin]

The man in white smiled sadly, but despite the reaction that was given to him he still stepped forward a bit further, taking in a view about the place. The Priest, the boy, the woman and the dying vampire. In every face there was a story, a tragedy untold or just beginning. "I think, I fear, that you all misunderstand me in some rather basic way." He said, not flinching at Jack's gaze. Looking back upon the fallen man with only compassion in his eyes.

"I am not some servant of light who comes in purity." he said softly, peeling off one of his pure white gloves, setting it to lay on the ground as he came to kneel beside the two. "I am not here to take from anyone in any way. There is nothing you have that I would wish to take from you, aside from your death. This is my calling. My duty. My purpose on this earth."

Firm, steady fingers reached out for a moment before he paused, glancing up to the woman to try and soothe her as well. "What I offer, what I do, is because I find some things too terrible to allow. Perhaps it's not in you to understand, but there is far too much death in this world. People dying before they can finish their works. Knowledge lost forever. Families destroyed. Evil left to walk as the good fall. I cannot in good conscience walk by and watch a tragedy happen. And a life that someone would shed tears over is a life that still has some value?"

Now at last to look back to the vampire with a sad shake of his head. "I doubt you truly see me in this moment, but I will take you at your words. And even with those words, I will not stop, even with what cost might come to me." His uncovered hand went to his other wrist, and as if a blade had been drawn across his flesh the skin parted, the man in white's eyes focused in an abstract concentration.

Again, he spoke to the woman. "No matter what happens please, do not interfere. Your friend doubtless would not forgive himself if you were hurt, and what I do now, I do of my own free will."

And with that the wound broke, and he let his blood flow down, offered out to the fallen vampire. Pure, vibrant. Alive. Human and untainted, not a risk, not a harm, not a trap. The man must have been mad to offer such a thing, but he did none the less.  

[Serena Magik Novello]

She had stopped crying when this new man came upon them, trying to get a judge of character. But anyone doing this type of thing had to know what they were doing, right? Jack seemed to be aggravated by this man coming closer, but she kept her one hand on his right shoulder, her left hand stroking that hair back, trying to keep him relaxed as much as possible. Fighting was going to use up blood. Fighting meant less time. Jack's words made Magik's mouth drop open slightly. It was like hearing a wounded dog barking at someone who was coming to help. The beast didn't know any better but to react by instinct. Protecting, preserving, being too stubborn to accept help or perhaps being too careful to not lose control and kill everyone in a blood frenzy?

Her attention now was on solving this before it got any worse.And when the man spoke, there was some kind of recognition in his words. Hadn't she become a cleric to avoid people leaving her life? She'd been a follower of Pelor who was all about healing and guidance and light, but she'd always let people make their own decisions. A thing that caused so much pain when someone did finally give up, give in. "Some would say death is just a normal process in the circle of life. No one can live forever." Had she just said that? It was unnatural to watch as the man's skin parted, seeing the crimson offering there and knowing how it would have stung for her to do the same thing, this man had done so without so much as flinching, didn't it hurt?

She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until she saw that blood flowing down. Like a tap. Her body was shaking from not knowing what was going on. Things could go all to hell in a moment. She knew how Augustus was, but she had never seen Jack in a frenzy. "I can't promise anything, Mr. Norin. Someone might have to protect all of us in a moment. Or help protect him from himself." If he refused the blood, it would mean he had a very high tolerance to everything, self control. How close was Jack to just snapping all the years she'd known him?

"What is it that I've tried to tell you, it's alright to accept help sometimes? But you and I...we're both stubborn aye?" She attempted a smile, trying to smile through her uncertainty. "I know I'm not strong enough to hold you down...so if you attack him or heaven forbid me...I'll do my best not to hurt you. No matter what. I give my word." She was whispering things to him, things that she knew if Jack went crazy...she'd pretty much sighed her death warrant. She knew trust would someday be her downfall, but today she didn't feel it. She felt wired, adrenaline threatening to surge. She knew better than to get in a fight trying to protect these two from one another. She could not stand by and watch a man die reguardless of why he was doing it, same as Jack couldn't being himself to take her blood. Then again, she was afraid to have slit her wrist, if his mind was going...she knew how fleeting life was. And trying to balance her care with a healthy dose of self preservation was getting harder to maintain. The scales were going to spill eventually.

"You have alot of choices, Jack. If people didn't feel you were worthwhile, we wouldn't be doing this. I'm here Jack...His or mine if you want to stay with us. I really don't think your time is up yet. Still so much...unfinished business. Stay with me longer and then we can talk when you're feeling better? God, there she went being selfish again. It sucked being human sometimes. Clinging to everything. Maybe it really was a weakness. Alex used to think it was. She knew Jack could bite still, her arm so close to his face had to be driving him insane. Well,more insane. It was like being a holy man and walking into Babylon. How long could he hold out or did he still want to even more?  

[Ten Tails]

August straightened the jacket of his business suit, and scratched at his temple. "Like I said, this is whole ice spewing nonsense is not something I've had my whole life. More I've been afflicted with this for barely a week. Of course I don't know what is going on." He cast his eyes down at the whorls of frost on his arms. "Oh what the hell? Why is it doing that?" He seemed to then notice his steaming breath, and he held out his hand, watching ice condense in his hand where his breath touched it. He lost his composure slightly.

He seemed to have a small spasm of fight reflex, rapidly rubbing his hands all over the whorls of frost to cast them off himself. He filled the air with a cold, crystalline frost dust as he brushed his arms and shoulders. "This is messed up. Why the hell me? I just want to go back to worrying what to do with myself in my rapidly encroaching Thirties." He was rambling out of nerves at this point, talking just to rationalize things to himself. He didn't care what came out of his mouth. "I know I wished to get out of the monotony, but I meant I wanted a promotion out of middle management. Not to be freaking jack frost and have to deal with crazy magic item throwing hobos, and evil gremlin spirits, and FREAKING VAMPIRES!" He shouted, and then just shook his head, his icy steaming breath coming in gouts as he tried to catch his breath. He returned to clutching his chest. "So what do I do about that Preacher?"