Welcome to Gaia! ::

Rhator walked out into the bustling sidewalk of New York at dusk. He turned and began walking down the sidewalk, minding his own business. The business of humans was not that interesting anyways. He could hear police sirens in the far distance. Probably some poor human just got busted for drug use. His walk was unmentionably powerfull. The mere mortals seemed to glide past him as if he were a boat in a river of people. So many humans! Their stench is unbearable. Ugh, their mortality is dampening my spirits. He turned down a dank alleyway.

The alleyway was lit by a cold red light above a door. The light came from a sign reading "Girls Girls Girls" Heh, God's creations huh? They sin more than I do as a demon. He walked past the strip club, uninterested. The back end of the alleyway was dark and damp, with large dumpsters leaning against the walls.

Rhator could hear breathing, and sense a rapidly beating heart. He leaned around the corner to see a pale man, wearing little but rags, pulling a belt tight around his upper arm. Multiple dirty needles were skewn all around the alleyway. They can't even face reality, that their world is run by evil. They hide behind drugs and sex. Humans...psh. If this is God's image then us demons should have won the war long ago.

Rhator stared at the man, boring a mental image of the man's drug-numbed face into his mind. Then, with a swift motion, he grabbed the man by the throat, lifting him into the air. Rhator began to fuel his own power by eating the soul of the mortal. He chewed at the arms and legs with his sharpened teeth. The blodlove rose in him, like a wave. He continued until he was gnawing nothing but the bones of a soulless skeleton. I feel refreshed. He let his aura flow outward, openly letting himself be sensed by any who knew how. He was ready for some fun. Bring on the pain!

. o O ( Suki, if you're checking this page, my post is on 1499 I think.. or somewhere around there. Blasted pages! Can hardly even remember where my own post is : P )

Rhator continued walking around the city aimlessly. He was looking for anyone who could provide him with some fighting to test out his new knee. The soul from the drug addict still flowed easily through Rhator's body, heightening Rhator's senses. The city was dead tonight. Not many immortals were about, and those that were areslightly far away.

Rhator was becoming frustrated. He had come out tonight to try and find those hunters who had embarrased him, but instead all he could do was walk around aimlessly.

The streets had cleared up since the sun went down a few hours ago. The only people on the street now were prostitutes and criminals. Not many respectable mortals were out at this time of the night. Maybe I'll have some fun with one of these hookers...

Aiden once again sensed the same demon. His arm started to tingle again, and the numb sensation would soon follow... Aiden closed his eyes, stopping in his tracks and uttered coldly under his breath, "That damn b*****d... He'll die for this..."

It was impossible to tell who the vampire was reffering to, but whomever it was, he abviously hated them.

Aiden slowly turned back, and scanned Amber suspiciously. She had been acting odd, yes the man she had loved just died, but this was a completely different matter. He read into her thoughts and saw her disappointment in herself. Not good in this area, Aiden chose to neglect it.

Finally deciding to respond he replied in his mono-tone with a hint of a British accent that was barely detectable because his voice was so emotionless and quiet, "It' fine, think nothing of it. And don't worry about me, I can take care of my own body. This wound will heal in two weeks, the flesh will, but the bones will take a few months." He started walking again, not waiting for Amber.

Sanchez parked the car across from the bar....the optics/thermal readings
that the people coming out of the bar were humans for now. Bridget nodded and they both got out of the car and walked across the street
(another reason she had chosen this site...traffic at nite was almost nonexistent). Bothe slid down thier protective eye covers and the oxygen
reserve into thier mouths...

They both walked in as bold as brass and Sanchez fired one of Bridgets gadgets into the ceiling at which time it folded out like a microwave dish.
Bridget in the meantime dumped two small containers into the corners of the bar and the bar itself (in order to get as many as she could). People
dropped like stones and hit the floor except for about six who were identified as vampires. Sanchez hit the button and nothing happened except for a few sparks from the dish... so they did it the old fashion way.

Sanchez fired and so did Bridget... and the five of the six were dust; the sixth one made it out of the back door. They couldn't retrieve the device so they destroyed it with gunfire and left the bar and walked over to the car...got in..and drove off. They removed thier eye protectors and rebreather as Sanchez drove off.... "Well so much for that idea at least for awhile.... "I've been working on juiceing up the UV grenades; it will be our next trial..." "Look at it this way at least we know the gas is effective only against humans... let's go home."

Piercing blue eyes danced about the shadow of a dark alley. The glowing orbs did not falter as they digested every detail about him perfectly. The demon's pallid lips cured into what appeared to be a smile. Pale hands reached into the interior of his leather jacket, polished to match the bewildering shimmer of Obsidian. When he found what he was looking for, Daragio pulled out his hand, revealing a slender pair of shades. Placing them quite comfortably upon his acute nose, the demon proceded to exit the safety of the shadows and walk into the busy street.

A set of fingers smoothly made their way through his thick blue hair as he walked, his strides graceful, his footfalls silent.His ebon cloak seemed to glide behind him as he pressed foward. His cloak aloft, one would abruptly feast their eyes upon the demon's elaborately decorated sheaths. Both blades were slender, built for agility rather than strength. One scabbard sported a slight curve to support the frame of his keen scimitar. The other, its sister blade, did not curve but offered a nast bite. The demon weilded his rapier in his left hand.

Although Daragio was right handed, he had practiced the art of his two-weaponfighting style to perfection. The ambidexterious demon was far from reckless. He considered his art of killing an intricate dance.

A dance of death.