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 Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 10:45 am
themightyjello "An honor, Miss Stella," answered the young man formally. In turn he crossed his right arm over his chest and bowed to the fae before introducing himself as well.
"Anson Brent," the boy began, "Paladin of the Falician church." "Just Stella will do fine, Anson," the fae replied, and positioned her arms in front of her so the Paladin could assist her easier with the bandages. Her arms stung a little from the glass, but as she inspected them, she gathered that there were no shards beveled in her skin, luckily.
The makeshift napkin-bandages would do for now. Stella would have to ice the bruises and recover the cuts when she got to her room at the ball's finale. For now, she was just grateful that someone showed up at the opportune time.
"So, a Paladin from the church, huh?" Stella asked as Anson would be wrapping her arms. "Don't most of the faith usually preach against violence? What on Gaia are you doing all the way out here?"
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 10:52 am
His lips spread, blood pooling from them into her mouth. His fangs threatened to consume the entirety of his face... WHAM! With a sickening squelching sound his mouth disconnected from her own, his teeth dragging free to slash at her cheek. The force of the blow bent his neck, cocking his head to the side as he regarded her with his maniacal grin. The skull remained intact along with his grip, feet shuffling beneath them as he lead her into the steps of his newly-learned waltz. God thank Seyumi, ironically. The vampire's hair had been flattened where the hammer impacted it, but otherwise there was no evidence of a wound. No sign of discomfort from being smashed in the side of the head - the rotten brain therein likely riding waves of fetid fluid and crashing into the walls of its confines back and forth like a pendulum. The only sign that she had impacted him in any way was the gruesome smile he offered her, one that was all fangs and distorted as if some lamprey was making an attempt to feign human emotion. More disturbingly ( if that's at all possible ) blood was cascading over the bottom of his lips, and in the waterfall were many small wiggling rafts. These small rafts were in fact maggots, larva, corpse-infesting death-consuming otherwise negligible forms of life here to run amok on her skin. KB fell in tune to the song of her death throes, his head riding the force of her blow to the side, then forwards. His mouth sought the crook of her neck opposite of where she'd struck him, using her own head as a shield for his own. He would sink all of his fangs into her without remorse, burying their inches of unrelenting bone into every artery and vein. Catlyn's life would be spared, but her courage would come at the cost of her sanity. Even if he could not take her neck into his mouth ( and he could fit almost the entire thing, given the scope of his ever-expanding smile ) he would instead take the shoulder, threatening to bite her arm off cleanly.  " Blood is the currency of the soul, the coinage of life."
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:05 am
In the midst of his brooding, a scent came to James. It was a familiar scent, brought on by the intense focus he had on the events that just occured. It was Roen's scent... and yet it wasn't. Faint, but distinct and still present in the ball.
No.
It couldn't be, could it? The devil escaped him by going back into the hotel? Impossible. Foolhardly. Utterly retarded.
His eyes swept over the crowd, looking for the source, if only to make sure. James could almost taste the agitation and the fear present. Thats what he was looking for.
Whoever the person so familiar with the devil was, they would reveal themselves to James. Paranoia, the feeling of being watched, would lead to them being cautious, to looking around nervously.
Then their eyes would meet, for however brief a moment.
And James would know.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:07 am
What had she gotten into, this time? How could she have been such a foolish young woman? Strong and fearless, indeed she was. Unkillable? No.
How awful a kiss that had been, only to find that she had locked lips with a creature far beyond any befoulment she had battled in the Badlands. And now, mesmerized by the sheer grotesqueness of his revealed features, the blood pouring from him, the stench of death incarnate that had embraced her.
If he didn't kill her, she was nearly certain the horrid details of this encounter would. She had walked unwittingly into her first encounter with a vampire, and now her life hung in the balance, teetering on the tips of his fangs.
As the inches of bone sank into her neck, her body went into a mild shock, and her sledge fell with a heavy thud to the ground.
Catlyn had heard rumors of vampires corrupting those they bit, but that was a thought far from her young mind as everything started to go black. Tears streaked her cheeks as she thought of the people she had stolen wallets from earlier. All the people she had to kill in order to survive in her travels and struggles. And most importantly, how she had never had the chance to say two words. They found her lips as she slipped into unconsciousness in the vampire's grasp. The words manifested themselves as the last, desparate whisper she might ever utter.
"I'm sorry..."
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:20 am
Robyn chuckled at Rylen's impatient attitude. Granted, she wouldn't mind them getting on with it either, so she could leave as soon as possible. People jumping on tables, Midus setting up fights, sooner or later, something was gonna blow. More than it already had. But she had a get-out-of-jail-free card of sorts. If Rylen didn't go diving in headfirst when all hell broke loose (which it would, she was getting more sure of that as the night went on), she could illusion them both and get the hell outta there.
But that hadn't happened yet. "Who knows? Maybe they don't even have us matched up yet." The fox-girl snorted. She wouldn't put it past them to be frantically working backstage, putting together the promised brackets.
She shrugged, tail lashing. "At least we get to meet and watch some of our competi-" She broke off, looking around with her eyes narrowed. Her head was tilted up, and Rylen would recognize the position as scenting the air. It was hard to tell amongst all the people but... "Do you smell...blood? Like, fresh, but...not?" Of course there'd been spilled blood over the room, but it'd been visibly seen falling from the various bodies as they fought. She could vaguely tell where the scent was coming from, but that was all.
Her ears were canted sideways, and she looked worriedly at the half-wolf. "I dunno, I just got a bad feeling..."
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:21 am
"Since when did Mr. Sonners hire you to deal with his problems?"
"He didn't, it just makes sense."
---------------------------------
The crowd mingled and shuffled away from the designated area, leaving the raised dais empty and barren of its former life. Of course, the crowd of spectators no doubt shifted around certain other elements; making sure to stay clear of Ebris and his would be opponents, for the sake of life and limb.
From the milling mass of people strode Deitric, having left the round-table of investors and aides, his long dress coat draped across the back of his chair for when he returned. He hadn't bothered removing the pin-striped vest or black tie; only the shades came off, and only when he had gotten up the ramp to the raised platform. He had made one precaution however - his long hair was pulled back into a taut pony-tail, pulled back along the contours of his skull and tied up at the base, to keep it from being grabbed.
Calm as ever, he removed the black gloves, tucking them into one of his back pockets quietly. In calling out Omi, Midus had called out Deitric as well - it was as mandatory for him as it was for his opponent. Then again, he knew Omi could just as well cut his losses and keep walking away. Stepping casually along the edge of the raised ring until he was at the opposite end than Omi's approach, the tribesman didn't seem to do any sort of stretching or readying for imminent combat.
Stonily silent in the face of flashing cameras and the buzzing chorus of the crowd, the tribesman remained aloof and didn't speak a word while he waited, his arms hanging loosely at his side.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:23 am
...I...I have to find him...
She'd had time to breathe, to rest a moment and gather her thoughts. It had grown quite clear to her that she didn't belong in this place, not now at least, and that without someone to guide and protect her, she was about as capable as a flipped turtle. And so it was that, at long last, Faustina would let her fingers slip from her bare shoulders, one hand pushing gently against the bar counter. Her body would turn, and she'd lift from her stool with all her elegance reclaimed with defiant determination.
As her body turned, the silken crimson dress would wave about her like ribbons through a gentle breeze, praising her slender, perfect form, as if sculpted by the Great Masters themselves. Moving from the bar, her tail would fall into a sway of forced relaxation, and her head would lift, bold gaze ready to take on the road ahead--but not ready to be met so quickly.
So sooner had she looked up did she find another pair of eyes staring right back at her. The man would find that she was every bit the kin of her father, save for a single feature: where her right eye shone of the same deep garnet of her father, her left boasted a proud and majestic emerald, a tracing remnant of something from long, long ago. To the man who knew her father, the kinship would be obvious, though perhaps not how this maiden was related to the Darkened Devil.
To Faustina, however, the man was a complete mystery, and one that put her on guard, hesitation tainting the otherwise gleaming sparkle of her eyes. Her soft lips would part, and in a voice that sang of the greatest symphonies, she would ask, "...May I help you?"
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:27 am
In the moment,
The vampire consumed blood, and in doing so he drank of emotion and memory. Catlyn's life flowed from her and into the monster, the energy of her life delivered to him. He could taste her regret and the events that spawned it, feel them as if they were his own, as if he'd been in her shoes at that time in her life.
This would not afford her any measure of sympathy, however.
There would be only the greedy consumption of these things. With every flex of her heart more of herself flowed into him, and he willingly took it. Every passing moment threatened to extinguish her life fully, to transfer the last vestiges of her soul to his vault. When her heart pumped it betrayed her and unwittingly offered more.
Time was of the essence. With this large a wound to the neck, severing both her carotid arteries, it would only take a few seconds for her to bleed to death. That is, unless the vampire kept the pressure upon her and regulated the flow of her person into his own. He was at the time both the thing killing her and the only thing keeping her alive - a testament to his parasitic nature.
Continuing to dance, he took her paling flesh through the motions. He spoke to her in their own private world, the dark world of her dreams, of her unconscious mind. There they shared a private resort from the harrowing details of reality.
"I would like to let you live." He told her, his voice a disembodied whisper. It resonated in her soul as he extended his gloved hands to either side. In this alternate reality - a dark, featureless expanse - he was unmarred and polite. The firm grip he kept on her in the real world would be a ghostly sensation, one that seemed somehow less real than the hallucination they shared.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:39 am
Old Man KB "I would like to let you live."
Instead of the grungy, filth-covered female the vampire was sucking the life from, was a pristine, innocent-looking, completely nude, young woman in her early twenties. Her left arm covered her moderate breasts, and her right hand covered her, more personal regions.
Her words came slowly, as her eyes seemed to look beyond his form.
"You... You want to let me live?"
Her voice was something akin to a loud whisper, and much softer than the hardened tone she had addressed him with in the realm of reallity. Her short hair drifted freely in the gravity-less expanse of the void.
"How can that be?"
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:55 am
A flicker of a tail crossed his vision.
Yes, she was indeed a devil, or atleast a devil's child. Perhaps, he noted from her youth, that particular devil's child?
She looked like him, and even possessed the same disgusting sort of elegance that Roen had and always flaunted. She must be related in someway. It was strange though, that the devil just abandoned this girl here and escaped.
Still, James did not make a habit of letting chance to slip through his fingers. She would hear his voice as though he was right infront of her, despite the distance and the din between them.
"You're quite beautiful. Your father and mother must be proud to have raised such an elegant and gorgeous girl"
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:57 am
The vampire smiled patiently at the form before him, somewhat amused. To suppose he hadn't already explored her body thoroughly through memory was naive. Then again, the apparent purity of the form before him seemed to indicate that such propriety was second nature. To that end he focused his mind on her words and not her illusory appearance.
"I am damned to eat the living, but I have not forgotten..."
Smile turning wary, the world around then changed suddenly. Where there had been darkness there was now light everywhere, the light of the sun and of life. They had been transplanted to a forest as the blood in his mouth met with that pumping from her neck. Mingling their memories and their essences, he allowed her a brief insight into the world he had once had.
Overhead were comfortable shadows, those of great winged beasts that carried a familiarity. Above them still, lingering in the great blue out of sight, were the stars of fate that pained the vampire in ways no holy touch ever would.
"...all the virtues of my former life." He giggled, his voice now much younger and resolute. The blue-eyed youth that looked to her resembled the vampire but was clearly different. Clearly alive, innocent, and impossibly him.
Winking, his arms began to sway back and forth as he skipped barefoot through the mossy grass.
"I ate all of my friends. I would have liked to let them live but..."
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:23 pm
The change of scenery didn't seem to phase her other-worldly self. In fact, she seemed more relieved than surprised. As she peered slowly around the forest a sigh escaped her. Even though she was separated from her body in this moment, she could feel that she was lingering on the precipice of death.
It was a relief to see the young boy he once had been. She could see the resemblances, and even before the vampire spoke, she knew they were within his memories, now.
She had turned to face away from him and close her eyes. The back of her semi-luminescent form exposed to his already-knowing gaze as she thought out his words.
"But what? Didn't you have a choice?" she would ask after a long pause. In this realm, it would seem an eternity before she spoke. Time, in the applied sense with which humans consider it, had no implication here. Her head would turn slightly, to look at him from the corner of her left eye as she turned to gaze back over her shoulder.
Another brief pause, and she would speak before he answered, feeling in this moment that he had already answered her question, somehow.
"I would like to keep living..."
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:27 pm
Faustina hesitated, and a look of confusion crossed her features, an unease brought on by the incongruence of distance and sound. Either way, his words brought color to her cheeks, at first speechless in face of the compliment, but when he spoke of her parents and upbringing she could feel her suppressed sea of mixed emotions threatening to break through, and it was all she could do to merely turn her head away, half to hide the blush and half to avert her gaze.
Her auburn hair slipped from her barren shoulders to hang about her head like a veil, and her slender fingers intertwined low before her. She would not betray her defiance of her insecurities, would not reveal her personal torments to this stranger, and so when her lips parted once more it would be to merely reply, "...Thank you..." And then, with a chanced lift of her questioning garnet eye back to the man, "Mr...?"
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:42 pm
If there was one thing in the world Iopurl didn't take kindly to, it would be references to his race. His past had been a turbulent one, and his relationship with the Humes had been less than superb. To be insulted by a man that was so much like a monkey struck a sore spot in the great beast.
His eye's narrowed as he stared with hate at Ebris' large hulking back. He was ignoring Iopurl completely, heading straight for Joseph, his next target. His arrogance would be his downfall, Iopurl was determined to shred this man a new hole where he stood.
It didn't take Iopurl very long to cross the floor to behind Ebris. He relied on his abilities to stealth to cover the distance with as little noise as possible, although in a place like this with a hard floor it would be difficult to stop all his claws from tapping the floor at least once, but this was a busy ballroom, music was playing, people were talking, Ebris would likely never see him coming.
As soon as he was in range, providing Ebris hadnt got that creepy feeling up his spine and turned around, Iopurl struck out the base of his palm to strike Ebris directly in the back of his head, just above where his neck ended. There was a nice little groove Iopurl intended to find home in.
Ebris was taller than him, but only by a few inches. The strike would be roughly full strength, Iopurl wouldn't be reaching up to hit him, and considering the beast's super-human strength, Ebris would probably be more than irked.
[1/10]
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:58 pm
"I never had a choice." He answered, his tone darkening at the recollection. He disbanded his hold over his memories as they took a turn for the worse, the scenery flashing into nothing mid-transformation to a hell meant for him and him alone.
It was no surprise that being reminded of his helplessness shattered the childlike form. In its place was a potent symbol of power, and the uneasy peace that came with it. Being a vampire afforded him the ability to resist nearly all forms of physical or emotional pain. The transformation from a child to a monster had given him Choice at the cost of everything else.
"I have a choice now. I am choosing to let you live. I am making this choice because you are a good person, and you will continue to be a good person until the day you die. When you die you will not join me here, you will go somewhere nice where people will benefit from your kind nature and good company."
A pause, the briefness of it atypical of eternity.
"In the future I have one suggestion. Do not plead with the Devil, but deal with him. I will collect my due when the time is right. Until then, Catlyn, let your soul rejoice in the warmth of life and the touch of sunrise. Goodnight."
---
Descending, the vampire's tongue slid across the fresh wound in the woman's neck. His teeth seemed to come away one by one in time, his saliva sealing her wounds shut. She would be in no way fully healed by him, but the action would at least preserve her until she received proper medical attention.
He lay her out on the floor, his body draped over hers. KB knew that if he'd simply let her fall she would have likely split her head or otherwise harmed herself, and so he left her with the best fighting chance he could. His mouth withdrew from her flesh with a string of blood and saliva, his form rising to showcase the horrific nature of his kiss. A ring of puncture marks in her flesh, a circle of red upon otherwise pale flesh.
"Take her before I change my mind." He spat, stepping back from the body and clapping his gloved hands together. The sharpness of the sound scared witnesses back into reality, and they dealt with her hurriedly, yet carefully.
As for KB, he simply took out a handkerchief and cleaned the edges of his lips. One had to maintain a sort of professionalism in these sorts of banquets. It wouldn't do well for him to run around the place with his face all covered in the blood of some young woman. Hell, the debacle might have even been good with all things considered. Catlyn's sacrifice had taken the edge off, and the jitters regarding Roen seemed to have been put at ease.
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