Dark Rain 2.0  |
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| The Palace; Vampire HQ. | |
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| Topic Started: 19 May 2009, 01:14 (527 Views) | |
| Lord Synical | 19 May 2009, 01:14 Post #1 |
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A cluster of shadows coalesced into being outside silver-layered stainless steel gates, rising from the earth to take on the form of the vampire assassin known as 'Bane' to friend and foe alike, Lucien Shadowstrider to those who took the time to find out. One arm was placed against his bleeding chest, his left leg wobbly as his left arm was left limply at his side. Never the less, the only emotion present on his angelic features was bliss, pure joy. He had found, finally, an opponent worth hunting - a creature that pushed him to the limit of his abilities and more. A true rival, at last! Reaching out his right arm, he pressed the little button for the intercom, glancing at the video camera half-heartedly as the gates, inset with V.M, swung noiselessly inwards to admit him. Sighing extravagantly, he strode as best he could up the lengthy gravel driveway, which was in fact a good three hundred meters, curving into the pillared doorway that marked the entrance to the palace that stood before him. In the early years, Vladimir Mooslayer had desired a structure to tell of the glory and beauty of himself and his children. To this effect, the order was given for the Palace to be built. Blocks of land were cleared away, demolished by the thousands of Vampires that had been turned in the first years. The masonary and mortar was recycled, all of it used to construct this monolith before Lucien. It had taken nearly ten years of unceasing labour by the immortal children, sped up by their lack of the need for sleep, their supernatural strength, intelligence and their speed. It had been completed in the first months of 2023, a perfect residence for the perfect race. It was home to all Vampires, even those across the oceans who had never seen it. Its white walls towered high above the ground, protecting the palace itself with heavy machine guns and ancient cannons salvaged by the Vampire forces. So far, it had never been attacked, no one had dared to come against the brood in force since the early wars. The mahogany doors opened forth to admit Lucien, each one at least ten meters high, six meters across. In he stepped to the cavernous entrance hall, sighing in appreciation despite himself. The marble staircase at the far end led up to the second floor, with the golden banisters polished and spotless. The floor on which he stood was covered entirely by a rich, scarlet rug, inlaid with a massive V.M in the centre of the masterpiece. Everywhere he looked, there was the mark of Moonslayer. His father, the father of them all. Even here, in the pillared, chandelier-lit entrance hall, Vampires were conversing. Sipping glasses of wine, not blood, wine - laughing among themselves, whispering behind hands. Here and there eyes were turning, more and more with time to face the battle-ravaged assassin that stood before them. Eyes filled with a range of emotions; admiration, envy, jealously, loathing, pride, anger, amusement and, in some cases, extreme lust. Lucien ignored them all as he strode forwards, heedless of the dirt on the scarlet rug whilst the crowd parted for him as he moved to the staircase, his boots thudding loudly even amidst the soft buzz of conversation. When he reached the middle stair, an elegant, 'airy fairy' voice rung out from the crowd, filled with venomous mockery, "The prodigal son returns!" Bane froze at those words, his eyes turning to crimson ice as he looked back to where the crowd had parted ever so slightly away from the loudmouthed Vampire. His hair was blonde, his eyes burgundy and his gait arrogant. He was a second generation, Markus of name, that much Lucien knew. Sighing softly, he looked to the shadow cast at the fool's feet by himself and those around him. Raising his hand, Lucien lazily brought the shadows up and moulded them into a small, miniature shadowspear. Markus merely smirked, arrogance apparent, "You won't kill me here, little Lucien, violence is forbidden by the father." At this, the assassin's neutral expression shifted to a soft smile, which never reached his icy eyes, "Bite me." Without a word more the spear shifted and slammed into the Vampire's heart, spurting blood forwards onto the rug and steps as Lucien turned away, the fool falling backwards with a look of shock plastered on his features - the shadowspear wafting away into wisps of nothing. The crowd was silent until the body was dragged away, murmuring to themselves about what the Assassin's punishment was to be. |
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| Logarithms | 19 May 2009, 02:27 Post #2 |
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Sera, amused pushed past the crowds and went after Lucien, the murmuring of the crowd not bothering her much. 'Very daring indeed' Sera noted as she hastened, as Lucien continued on his way up the stairs. Having already returned earlier, she had changed into her favorite, dark, long, flowing evening gown. Certainly, this wasn't meant to make running easy. Nearly tripping over her gown, Sera quickly lifted the skirt of the gown and hurriedly went up, beside Lucien. "Hey, Prince Lucien!" She greeted, giggling at the title she just given him. "So, how goes the battle?" She asked. "No wait, let me guess, Mr. 'Greatest Assassin' probably won yet another battle.." Suddenly, she remembered how he looked when he came in. Glancing over to his left arms and legs, she winced. "... Or not?" She wondered aloud. 'Those wounds look really painful, not to mention, he's probably suffered a fair amount of beating from the lycanthrope.' Sera noted, peering over to his chest, flayed with claw marks. Remaining silent for a brief moment, she broke the silence, probing with a nearly indistinct, concerned tone,"So, does the wounds hurt?" Edited by Logarithms, 19 May 2009, 02:28.
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| Lord Synical | 19 May 2009, 02:37 Post #3 |
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Lucien turned, slowly, to stare at Sera with a cold fury. The title she had used was something that no one spoke of, no one dared to utter. He hated it, spurned it, loathed it. His origins made him that accursed word, but his pride, his honour forbade him from acknowledging it. He had turned his back on nobility, on riches and luxury in favour of a life of war. He had stepped off the pedastel, disgrace himself in the eyes of the nobles, but it had been something he had never regretted. Becoming an assassin, the first assassin, had been his life's greatest accomplishment. A faint snarl escaped his lips in Sera's direction as he responded, fury dancing in those orbs of crimson as he spoke, "If you ever use that filthy word again, I'll kill you where you stand. I'm an assassin, that's what I am, Bane - Lucien Shadowstrider. Not 'prince'." With that, he turned and continued up the stares, growling profanities under his breath. Oh, he knew she'd follow, he just hoped he was wrong. |
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| Kairo | 19 May 2009, 05:28 Post #4 |
Let me hear you say I'm fine.
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"I swear I just saw a midget on his shoulder," Areth Selime said as he revealed himself from the shadows to anyone who's gaze may have fallen upon him. "Very, very little thing. I mean, come on. But he just completely ignored it! It was right there. Sitting on his shoulder." The Assassin looked around, wondering if anyone had heard what he just said. He truly did not expect it; everyone thought him mad or just stupid. He was only one. Areth shifted his body to watch Lucien climb the stairs, looking at the wounds. "He looks like one of the Terro-Parrots attacked him." With this, he pushed a lock of his blonde hair out of his magenta eyes, and glanced across the crowd that was now receding. "Everyone always fusses about this guy, it's really quite pointless." He stepped forward, still not sure who he was talking to, but whoever it was; they had to be getting annoyed with it. "He's quite rude to the other vampires. It's just immoral." Selime turned away from the stairs, no longer particularly caring about Lucien. His mind was elsewhere, as was the result of psychosis. |
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The cat says moo. This is something I learned through studies. "There are only two infinites: The Universe and human stupidity." - Albert Einstein 
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| Logarithms | 19 May 2009, 08:35 Post #5 |
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'Why would he react with such a fearsome glare to that? Isn't the title supposed to be good?' Sera wondered, surprised by Lucien's startlingly harsh response. Pouting as he continued on to add,"If you ever use that filthy word again, I'll kill you where you stand. I'm an assassin, that's what I am, Bane - Lucien Shadowstrider. Not 'prince'." Sera felt defiance welling up within her, but her innermost instincts prevented the word from escaping her mouth. Lucien then turned to continue on his way up the steps, growling something that Sera audibly ignored as she followed. 'Rude. Rude. Rude! Just that word, and he ignored everything else I've said.' She thought to herself as a frown broke out on her face. 'Not that it'll shake me off, ha.' She noted, a grin taking over as she hurried up beside Lucien. |
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| Lord Synical | 19 May 2009, 09:17 Post #6 |
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Lucien glanced at Areth with a wry smile, recognizing his mad manner easily. Terro-Parrot? Ha! The Assassin's mood improved immediately as he listened to Selime's mad ramblings, smirking to himself. He would never tire of the other killer's manner, the way he made everything seem ridiculous with his hilarious hallucinations provided a running source of entertainment for Bane. Clapping Areth on the shoulder, he shook his head and continued on, snickering about 'Terro-Parrots' when Sera caught up to him again. His reactions was irritation, but his mood was improved. He tolerated the curvacious nobless for no other reason than he couldn't be bothered to remove her. Glancing at the woman, he had to admit she was very attractive, but he had no interest in sex as the others of his kind did. His ecstacy was the kill, his lust the battle. He spoke wihtout looking at her, his tone quiet, "When did you find out about me?" |
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| Logarithms | 19 May 2009, 09:36 Post #7 |
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"When did you find out about me?" Lucien asked. This question brought to mind much of her earlier activities mingling around with some of the other Vampiric Nobility, and more assassin fans. According to these sources, Lucien had apparently been the first person Vladimir turned on the day of the apocalypse. As such, he was the earliest noble, the strongest, and most promising of all the nobles there is at the moment, including Sera. 'Which truly was the case, as seen earlier.' Sera noted mentally. However, he had other plans for himself. Defying Vladimir, he gladly recruited himself into the Assassins, earning him a infamous name among the populace, and especially the nobles. 'Well, it's interesting to see someone reject the Brood Lord's expectations.' Snapping back into reality, she looked back at Lucien, who didn't even grant her the courtesy of placing his eyes on her. Sighing softly, she replied,".. Just. From the group earlier, was about to know more before you gladly disposed of the unlucky vampire earlier." |
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| Lord Synical | 19 May 2009, 09:50 Post #8 |
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Lucien shrugged as he turned right and limped down a spacious hallway, white doors on either side leading deeper still into the palace, though he ignored them, walking along the red silk in a purposeful manner. "I'd do it again, as well. Markus had it coming... no one talks to me like that, especially not some filthy second generation brownnoser." He snorted to himself, taking the corridor's left turn instead of the right as he continued through the palace, slamming a half-open door shut as he went, cutting off the sounds of intercourse from within. "Doing it with a human, stupid slut. I hope she's exposed." He said this more to himself, but the venom in his voice at the words 'doing it with a human' showed exactly his opinion of interspecies relationships. He was, despite his words, every bit the prince in mind that he denied being. Noble, arrogant, proud in his race and believing it as the master one of the planet. His former humanity seemingly forgotten, cast aside in the light of his powerful immortality. He continued on, ever deeper into the palace. |
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| Logarithms | 19 May 2009, 10:00 Post #9 |
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Following closely, Sera sighed at Lucien's comment as he shut the half-open door. "Why so conservative? We live in an age of freedom. As I remember someone once saying,' Just do it'." She muttered. Slowing her pace into a leisurely stroll, she walked on, glancing through some of the open doors into the rooms. 'Assassins, these savage creatures amongst us, with their insatiable lust for battle. To think Lucien would actually be part of these.' Sera thought to herself, as she walked along. 'Well, perhaps that's why Lucien doesn't take interest in the pleasurable things in life.. Battle.' Another peek into a room frightened her as an assassin glared from within. Walking quicker, Sera sighed. 'Well, not that it matters to me, they defend the nobility, and that's enough.' She concluded, walking on. 'Yet it makes me wonder why these people think this way.' "Try being more open, I guess?" She mused, chuckling to herself. |
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| Kairo | 19 May 2009, 23:06 Post #10 |
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Let me hear you say I'm fine.
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Areth shook his head clear, coming out of whatever trance which had just taken over him. "Oi," he mumbled. "Guess I should follow Lucien, he may know about where the midget went. Or, may hap, where he found a terro-parrot." He picked up down the hall, walking his slow and cool stride and keeping it as best he could. Eventually, he came near Sera in the halls, at which he slowed even further and came to a stop next to her. He looked her down, and began to go into one of his psychotic yet strangely poetic stirs, "My my, how beautiful this one is. Not one of us, yet one of us. You smell not of death, but of blood. Ironic isn't it? But I do say, I would enjoy a pleasurable chat with thee, but- once more ironically- I have a friend in need. My dear Lucien has been mauled by the dreaded Terro-Parrots, I must tend to him!" Selime walked away, releasing a hold on Sera's arm that he had somehow come upon during his little speech. His little, psychotic speech. He had given her no time for a response to anything that had just happened, and Areth had just kept walking as if nothing at all had happened. Except for, with a dramatic gesture that was obviously a joke, he groaned, "Oh, how helpless this man can be!" |
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The cat says moo. This is something I learned through studies. "There are only two infinites: The Universe and human stupidity." - Albert Einstein
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| Lord Synical | 20 May 2009, 01:32 Post #11 |
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Lucien grimaced at Sera's words, nodding to one of the Assassins moving past them in the hallway, polishing an overly large murasame. "I'm plenty open, just not to sodomising pointlessly." At Areth's approach, he smirked again, listening to the other man's mad commentary again with a laugh threatening to burst forth. Was he hitting on the Nobless? Amused, he spoke. "Selime, I wouldn't bother. She's a noble, we're not good enough for them." The way he said Noble reeked of dislike, venom dripping from the word. Evidently, he considered himself and the assassins a different race entirely from the nobility, a disturbing thought. |
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| Logarithms | 20 May 2009, 02:41 Post #12 |
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Selime's sudden appearance startled Sera, more so with his strange speech. Not that Sera took it to heart. 'But this person's weirder than weird. What is he?' Sera wondered. "Selime, I wouldn't bother. She's a noble, we're not good enough for them." Lucien said, a venomous tone heavily loaded along with it. At this, Sera sneered. "Like you aren't one yourself." She replied bitterly. 'So, yet another assassin. I'm starting to wonder if all assassins are social retards..' She thought to herself, chuckling at the idea. 'Yet for Lucien to detest the nobility this much...' Sighing, she continued ambling along. Certainly, Lucien was starting to get her interest. Rarely does one ever get to encounter a Noble that actually rejected his identity. 'Most would gladly enjoy the status.. Like me.' She concluded. "... And Terro-Parrots, what are they?" Sera suddenly asked, curiosity getting the better of her when what Selime had said earlier came to mind. Edited by Logarithms, 20 May 2009, 02:42.
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| Hydro14 | 20 May 2009, 13:48 Post #13 |
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It was an inescapable feeling of being completely out of place that Kesh’na was admitted through a side door to the palace. It simply wouldn’t do, she was told, for a demon to use the main door. All the vampires of high society were gathered in the main hall, dressed in either dinner jackets and bow ties or long flowing dresses. The demon didn’t often feel half dressed as she went about the city in precious little garb save what was strictly necessary, but she did feel an acute sense of embarrassment as any of the vampires who glanced her way looked down their noses at her and promptly looked away. “Are you invited?” This question had come from a point behind and to the left of her as a blade was, for the second time that night, slid in front of Kesh’na’s throat. “I have business with Markus.” She answered stiffly, if this vampire was trying to frighten her he’d have to a do a darn sight better than that to trump the inquisitor she’d run afoul of earlier. The assassin smiled and moved in front of her, leading her towards a spot just off to one side of the stairs leading up to a gallery that ran around the hall. “Here he is.” The assassin smirked, pointing at a faint bloodstain that had almost been totally cleaned from the floor. “He’s not in a particularly talkative mood at the moment.” The vampire grinned, apparently intent on enjoying his own joke for as long as he possibly could. “Perhaps if you were to call again tomorrow he might be feeling a bit better.” Kesh’na glared at him. “That’s quite all right,” she answered, “I know my way out.” “Surely you can’t mean to leave?” The assassin smoothly stepped in front of her as she turned towards the exit. The demon’s muscles tensed; all of a sudden the room was beginning to feel like a trap. They hadn’t deprived her of her weapons on entry but with an assassin so close to her she was sure that if she reached her guns she’d end up without a hand. Instead she took the arm that the vampire offered, a predatory mockery of gentlemanly behaviour, and allowed him to lead her up the stairs and into the network of corridors. “No, you must speak with Lucien. He’s the one who’s now possessed of everything your late employer owned and therefore his debts as well.” Kesh’na didn’t bother asking how he knew of her business. She had made quick progress from the bridge to the palace but word among vampires travelled faster. She was more concerned about this Lucien character. The assassin was being unnaturally helpful, which suggested that he expected there to be a very sticky end in line for her. “That’s really not necessary,” she said, removing her arm from the vampire’s, which he hastily corrected to an arm around her waist to keep her from slipping away. “I wouldn’t want to trouble him.” She tried to keep the pleading tone out of her voice, but with little success. “No trouble at all.” The vampire’s fangs gleamed as he smiled, his grip turning to iron. “The Brood always pays its debts.” At that moment they rounded the corner and came upon three vampires, two assassins and a noblewoman. Kesh’na’s eyes quickly flitted around the corridor searching for any escape routes, but there were none. Her escort stepped forward and half dragged her towards the taller of the two assassins. “May I present Lucien Shadowstrider, or as he’s known to us of the same profession, Bane.” There was a brief moment of silence, then the vampire reacted to Kesh’na’s apparent apprehension. “Come, step closer, my dear, he doesn’t- Actually that’s not true, he does bite.” [Kesh'na is introduced to Lucien.] Edited by Hydro14, 20 May 2009, 13:54.
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| My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe. | |
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| Kairo | 20 May 2009, 22:29 Post #14 |
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Let me hear you say I'm fine.
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"A nobless?" Areth asked, looking back at Sera and drawing in close once more. "I've always enjoyed a woman with... power. And the terro-parrots? You've never heard of a terro-parrot? You'll know it when you see it." Upon finishing, he withdrew, standing in front of Kresh'na, known to him now as the newcomer. He looked her up and down, processing her; analyzing her, before finally saying, "Your scent doesn't fit in here." Selime retracted a little bit further; the though of speaking to an outsider properly did not come fondly to him. Lucien may have had trouble accepting his personal classicism; Areth did not in the slightest bit. Or racism, if you would have wanted to say that. The place he apprehended within the Vampiric order was due to his race; as was whatever Kesh'na's role was. It was simple within his mind: They were just different. "You there," Areth said as he pointed to the escort. "Begone. And you," He turned once more to Kesh'na. "Obviously your business is with Lucien. Beware, for he has been assaulted by terro-parrots, and has lost a fair amount of blood. You know how a vampire gets when he has no blood, I assume." [Areth Selime hits on Sera more, and addresses Kesh'na.] Edited by Kairo, 20 May 2009, 23:32.
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The cat says moo. This is something I learned through studies. "There are only two infinites: The Universe and human stupidity." - Albert Einstein
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| Lord Synical | 21 May 2009, 01:51 Post #15 |
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Lucien shifted his gaze to Moran-Kesh'na with blatant impatience, mingled with a predatory curiosity. It was obvious to anyone that he knew he was in control here, that he could end her life as quickly as spare it. The blades on his back were evidence enough. Glancing at Selime to quiet him, the assassin stepped forth and profferred out his gloved right hand, his wounds already scabbed over as he observed her, not needing to shift his weight nor to fidget. Unnaturally still, perfect, calm. Without a word, two assassins flitted past in the shadows of the corridor, raising their hands to swords. Lucien raised his own to forestall them, turning to leave with Areth and Sera no doubt to follow, "Come with me, Demon." His every syllable dripped with authority. |
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| Logarithms | 21 May 2009, 09:44 Post #16 |
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Sera sighed, Selime's explanation of the 'Terro-Parrot' failed miserably to clear the question mark in her head. Yet it didn't bother her as much as the demon right in front of her now. Scrutinizing her from top to toe, she particularly took a disliking to her skin color, a dark shade of crimson. 'Well, I guess I have something against non-human looking creatures?' Sera mused. At the thought, Lucien turned to leave, halting the other two vampires that attempted to follow. 'Well, bye, demon' Sera said mentally. "Come with me, Demon." Lucien suddenly spoke, with a noticeable tone of authority. 'Urgh. I guess it's more demonic accompaniment.' Was her immediate thought, though followed by a bout of amusement that filled her, bringing an ironic smile to her face which she suppressed. Peeking over to the demon, she couldn't help observing her features again. It wasn't actually pure dislike either. 'Truly something I rarely see...' Sera thought to herself, eyeing her with intrigue, which was starting to become more apparent on her face. |
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| Hydro14 | 21 May 2009, 12:39 Post #17 |
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Fanatical Roleplayer
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The vampire who had escorted her into the palace gave Kesh’na a mocking wave as he was dismissed by Areth. The demon was left wondering what her previous employer had done that had given this ‘Bane’ reason to kill him. She hadn’t thought to ask and now the chance had passed her by, but it would have been a useful piece of information to ensure that she didn’t make the same mistake. None the less, she felt safer in the knowledge that this vampire had the look of a smart man about him, and smart men didn’t kill people who could be useful to them. All she had to do was prove that she was indeed useful, and the information that she had about the arrival of the inquisitors on the harbour should allow her to do just that. What about the High Inquisitor? Had she wounded him? The ferocity of the pursuit would suggest that she had, but she had better not make that claim until she was sure. Areth’s attempt to unnerve her with the suggestion that Lucien’s wounds had made him hungry also didn’t cause her to falter, she knew that her blood was poison to him just as her flesh was unpalatable to lycans, but she resisted the urge to point this out. It wouldn’t do to antagonise the vampires, at least not so soon in their meeting. At the assassin’s instruction, she fell in beside the group, wondering if she should wait until he addressed her again or if she should speak her business quickly and be gone. On one side she didn’t want to appear like she was wasting his time but on the other hand neither did she want to risk cutting across him and appearing rude. In the end she elected to wait until she was bidden to speak, remembering what the assassin at the bridge had told her about minding her manners. When it became apparent that Lucien wasn’t immediately going to ask Kesh’na what her business was, her concentration inevitably drifted and so she caught sight of Sera who had been watching her, fascination plastered across her face. Kesh’na thought it was a bit rude, but didn’t make any complaint. This was not the place to be picking a fight over harmless sleights to her dignity. She didn’t even need to check where any of the vampires kept their weapons to know that she would dead before should draw. |
| My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe. | |
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| Lord Synical | 21 May 2009, 12:59 Post #18 |
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Lucien shifted his eyes ahead of him to an elaborate, silver-carved pair of mahogany doors at the end of the hallway, set into the wall where the path turned left down another wide corridor to a set of lavish stairs, leading up another level of the palace. Approaching the doors, Lucien abruptly sunk into the shadows of the ground, vanishing for a second, the lock on the brass handles clicking open as the doors were pulled forth, Lucien revealed to have shadowrun into the room and unlocked them. Inside, his room was more like an armoury. Weapons of all kinds adorned the walls, with a king size four post bed adorned with black silk sheets. In fact, the majority of the room's decorations were black or crimson, very much what someone would expect of an assassin. Unclipping his sword sheathes and tossing them onto the bed, he removed his gun belt from his waist and threw it beside his swords, dropping the trenchcoat next and striding over to sit down on the edge of the overly large king size, undoing the laces of his special forces boots and slipping his feet out, tossing them and the socks to the side as he stood up, rubbing his eye wearily and walking to the fridge. He peered inside and pulled out a pack of blood, ignoring the O+ reading and unscrewing the little plastic top, turning to place his left arm casually on he top of the fridge and stick the blood pack between his teeth, beginning to steadily drink down the fluid as he pulled off his gloves, teeth along keeping the pack in his mouth. Tossing his gloves away, he removed the packet and tossed it back in the fridge after screwing the lid on, moving to the kitchen and opening random cupboards, as well as a second fridge, pulling out drinks and food, "Hungry, demon?" It was an odd question, but not one he was going to explain, "I like to cook. Tell me your desire and I'll make it." The selection was immense, dozens of different ingredients, food galore on the mahogany counter and no poison in sight. His gaze was steady... he was serious. |
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| Logarithms | 22 May 2009, 18:48 Post #19 |
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"I like to cook. Tell me your desire and I'll make it." That definitely caught Sera off guard. Revealing his room to her didn't make her as surprised as the fact he bothered to even offer to cook! This surprise slowly became amusement, as she glanced over to the wide selection of ingredients. Almost immediately, she wanted to suggest something, but since he directed his proposal to the demon, she decided it would be more polite to keep mum. Not forgetting to add he had a queer dislike for Nobles, Sera didn't want to push it either. 'After all, he's interesting. Should be following him for some time... Best avoid offending him too much..' Sera thought to herself, nodding habitually. Shifting her attention back on the room, she peered over to the various weaponry on display. Those, too, failed to get much of Sera's attention as she returned her gaze over to Lucien, the smile instinctively forming back. "I can't believe someone like you could cook, seriously." Sera muttered, with a heavy tone of surprise. "Why don't you ask him to whip up something catastrophic?" She continued, directing this request to Kesh’na politely. No doubt, while Kesh'na was here on business unknown to Sera, until she makes herself enemy, she is neutral, like any other demon. Yet she remains silently wary of this demon. 'What could she be here for?' She wondered, not showing any signs of the suspicion on her face as she maintained the smile on her face. |
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| Teal | 22 May 2009, 21:56 Post #20 |
Ba dum - pish!
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A small sparrow pecked its way across the dark pavement, feathers died black from soot. It hopped up onto the sidewalk and paused momentarily to look around, head cocked to the side. All at once, it flung itself into the air, chirping loudly and then spiraling up towards the covering clouds above. A moment later, with only a faint whisper of thin, paper like wings to announce its presence, two red feet touched down lightly on the ground where the bird had been a moment before. The feet took a careful step backwards, onto the street and then turned around slowly. The demoness's first reaction to the Palace was that of awe. How it had been built in the after the world had ended, she had no idea. She had seen that day, the fires, the screams. It was a miracle that the city still stood. Let alone this grand citadel. Her second reaction was more on the side of loathing. The vampires had spent all this time making a palace? What was wrong with them! The humans were still out there, still alive, and their enemies had spent their time building a large house. Yet there was no arguing with the grandeur of the building. Towers twisted up into the sky, round domes shimmered in the morning sun. If by itself, it would look beautiful. But when compared to the tortured city around it, it was...different. A testament to the self serving nature of the vampires. Dusting off her tattered clothing, Mafe attempted to look presentable and threatening at the same time. Her tail uncurled itself from its perch on her leg, her wings remaining at their full span.. With a haughty air, she marched towards the gates, filling the quiet air with her words. "My name is Mafe Namari! I am here to talk with one of your leaders about the Inquisition!" She approached the steel barriers. "I believe that I may have information that you will find...interesting." [Due to my internet/France problems, Mafe was left standing here for quite some time. To make up for it, her absence was explained (sort of) in this thread. So, while there is no RP record of it happening, Mafe left this area and is currently somewhere Downtown] Edited by Teal, 30 Jun 2009, 01:05.
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| Hydro14 | 23 May 2009, 09:16 Post #21 |
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Fanatical Roleplayer
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There are some questions that are made to unnerve, there are some that are meant to make a person squirm as they try to avoid answering. There are some questions that are plainly insulting and there are some that are merely harmless inquiry. But then there are some questions that aren’t in themselves overly threatening but simply attack your perception of a situation in such a manner that the most idle query can become as sharp as a knife. So it was as Kesh’na stood speechless for a moment, struck dumb by the vampire’s unexpected question. At once she began searching for some semantic trap in his words, some case of equivocation that could turn his offer into something dangerous. The only thing that her mind could seize upon was that she was the only one who had been offered anything to eat; it seemed the assassin was trying to get rid of the other two vampires by making them feel unwelcome. Actually, did vampires even need to eat? Instinct kicked in and gave her the answer to the situation that she needed. “Actually I’d kill for a good spaghetti bolognaise.” She said with a grin. Kesh’na had decided not to follow Sera’s suggestion to test the vampire’s culinary skills to their limits. She did, after all, have other places to be and the longer it took for Lucien to prepare the meal the longer it would take for their business to be concluded. After her encounter with the inquisition she would probably have to relocate her armoury before they raided it and denied her the versatility that having a large collection of assorted firearms for different situations offered her. Glancing around at the weapons on the walls and scattered around the room reminded her of her own place in a way, but that didn’t suggest that she and the assassin were in any way kindred spirits. |
| My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe. | |
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| Lord Synical | 24 May 2009, 01:28 Post #22 |
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Site Douchebag -//- Official Badass
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The first reaction to Sera's words was a dark look, as if to warn her not to push it, but when Morna-Kesh'na said she'd like some spaghetti bolongnaise, Lucien brightened immediately. He hadn't been lying, he did in fact love to cook, it relaxed him. Stowing away the unwanted ingredients, he set to work, pulling out a large stainless steel knife from a wooden multi-holder to his right and placing down a cutting board. He opened the tap and rinsed his hands with soap, drying them on a tea towel nearby before peeling a large white onion with his right thumb and forefinger, flicking the skin away and setting the ingredient onto the cutting board. The knife flashed like lightning in the Vampire's hand, supernaturally fast as he flicked the juice off it into the sink, the onion cut so perfectly it simply sat there, not changing at all until Lucien moved it to the side to continue working, the onion falling apart as he moved his hand away. Pulling out a plump, scarlet tomato, he laid it on the board and chopped the top off, tossing it over his shoulder into a waiting bin even as he began to dice the vegetable, pulling out a scale and measuring it, muttering to himself before chopping yet another and measuring it in the cylindric metal 'cup', nodding to himself and then moving the tomatoes off to the side. Turning, he moved to the black surface of the modernized electric stove and turned it on, pulling out a stainless steel pan and a bottle of olive oil, pouring some into the pan and placing it on the right rear burner, turning it up to full and moving back to the cutting board. He rummaged in a bag and pulled out some pristine italian pancetta, salt cured pork belly which had been spiced to perfection. Laying it on the cutting board, he began his work, swiftly but carefully slicing up around what he anticipated to be ffty grams before putting the rest away and tossing it into the fridge. After this, he pulled out a bag of spaghetti and ripped it open, moving to the stove and bending to pull a large pot from the pantry, moving to the tap and opening it into the pot as he picked up the cutting board and went to the pan, emptying the tomato, onion and pancetta into it in a hiss and bubbling sound as the oil caught hold. Nodding with satisfaction at the sizzling sound, he returned to the pot, which was now almost half full of its five litre potential, and turned the tap off; lifting it easily with one hand and placing it on the rear left stove, turning it to high and grabbing the handle of the frying pan with his hand, gently (for a vampire) sifting the ingredients around so they wouldn't burn or stick, glancing back at the others. "So. Demon. What brings you here?" ----- Outside the palace, the cameras zoomed in on Mafe for a moment before the gates abruptly, silently swung open to admit her. Almost insantly, a pair of assassins in their black garb were waiting on the other side of the gate, both with the same X shaped blade sheaths on their back that Lucien had worn, seemingly a popular addition to assassin armament. They smiled their too white smile at Mafe, scarlet eyes fixed on her as they beckoned for the Demoness to follow, setting off towards the palace's side entrance, deciding to simply take her where the last Demon that arrived had gone. To Lucien. |
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Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz. | |
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| Logarithms | 24 May 2009, 15:53 Post #23 |
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General Purpose Roleplayer
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The dark look failed to warn Sera as it should have. Instead, it substantiated the growing amusement at the fact Lucien could actually cook. Lucien didn't stay free for long though, Kesh'na proceeded to request a spaghetti bolongnaise, and Lucien was suddenly alive as he immediately focused on cooking. 'Even the way he cook seems to highlight his difference between ordinary vampires and him.' Sera commented to herself silently. Looking at Lucien cook called back some memories into Sera's mind- of how another fellow vampire had once cooked for her this very same way, and many many more. All of these brought tears to her eyes, tears which she held back. 'Past. Time to live out the present.' Sera consoled herself, shifting her focus back on Lucien. "So. Demon. What brings you here?" He asked, as he glanced back on the group watching him. 'No matter.' Sera thought to herself, deciding her next course of action. "Hey, do I get the same honor as to request something cooked from you?" She asked, her eyes an evident sign of hopefulness. No doubt, this was a selfish request too, seeing as it will drag the time Kesh'na spends here. Sighing softly, her conscience forced her to politely ask,"Uh, hey, demon. You wouldn't mind. Would you?" |
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| The Chameleon | 29 May 2009, 00:51 Post #24 |
The Chameleon
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((OoC: aren't plot summaries listed under mandatory? Oh well... I just wont enter quite yet until I have the full scope of what is going on in this place)) ========== As the limo pulled up in front of the palace, Armand shifted nervously in his seat. He was never really fond of heading into that place... It was always full of people looking for a tasty, human snack. Rather unnerving, to say the least. "You know the rules, myboy. Eyes down, hands to yourself, don't let on about your weapons, so on and so forth..." Desriel said as the car put-putted quietly in the darkness. He flashed a sharp smile at his servant and looked back to the door as it opened. A fifth or perhaps sixth generation vampire greeted them. Desriel knew he was about that generation by his features. Although they were definitely vampiric, they were not as defined or refined as the first generation, like himself, but not as raggedy and... human as the 15th generations and onward. It seemed that each time a vampire fed, the resulting vampire was less impressive in their features as the original... A rather sad fact that left a large portion of them looking like little more than humans with sharp teeth. A shame really. However, Desriel didn't dwell on this for very long, more or less ignoring this scum as he exited the vehicle, Armand following close behind. Then the door was closed and the limo put-putted away to the garage. Desriel led, always at least three steps ahead of Armand, to the front door. He passed by a few vampires, some were second generations who were so completely hammered that they needed to leave the building... or otherwise were not able to get themselves back in... after falling so many times, and others were simply sixth, seventh, and eigth generations who were patrolling the area to keep any unwanted rapscallions out. So, as Desriel passed all these, listening the the tap-tapping of their shoes on rock and dirt, he almost felt like joining them outside... It was such a beautiful night... And he would probably be very drunk very soon... As his hands rested on the smooth stone that made up the fortress, he fantisized himself having a gallant time, glug-glugging his drinks, and giving some fine women a bit of the old in-out in out, smiling pleasantly at the thought. Another vamp, a bit portly, might I add, opened the door for Desriel, opening his eyes to the splendor that was inside. It was just like every night... just like every night indeed. [Desriel arrived to the palace in a limo with Armand, his human servant. He passed by some drunks and some guards and entered the palace] ========== ((OoC: I just can't help but use onomonopoeia... it is so infectious to me...)) |
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| Hydro14 | 31 May 2009, 09:05 Post #25 |
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Fanatical Roleplayer
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Kesh’na flinched inwardly as the vampire asked if she minded her joining them for the meal. In truth anything that was likely to make this engagement take any longer than was strictly necessary was highly unwelcome, she did have other places to be after all. For starters that dratted lycan that the inquisition had fielded would probably be spending the time sniffing out her armoury, which she realised now she might well have to abandon most of, keeping just the firepower that she could carry. Secondly she needed somewhere to lie low where that blasted traitor vampire couldn’t go, and whilst he would have to remove all his holy artefacts in order to be able to blend in here among the brood, giving her a chance of possibly winning the battle, she didn’t want to risk him sneaking up on her while she slept. “I don’t mind at all.” The demon answered mechanically, remembering what she had been told about minding her manners, she couldn’t afford to alienate any of the vampires; she just had too many enemies at the moment. Given the option between having an assassin or a noble on her side, she’d prefer to have the noble. Kesh’na didn’t really trust vampires and a noble was far more likely to just give her the resources she needed and then just leave her alone. Keeping your friends close and your enemies closer was, in her opinion, a stupid idea. Keeping your friends close enough to take a bullet for you and your enemies either six feet under or on the other side of the world, now that was a good idea. “I came to report the success of the mission I was assigned.” Kesh’na answered Lucien, “The lycan attack on the docks was repelled without my intervention so I don’t think it would really be fair for me to expect payment.” In truth, had it been her former employer she was speaking to she probably would have woven together some fabrication about fighting off a pack of lycans single handed and demanded extra, but she could already tell that this assassin wasn’t anywhere near as much of a sucker. “I also have information regarding the inquisition, but that’ll be costly, although if that bolognaise tastes as good as it smells that’ll go a good way towards it.” She had watched with fascination as Lucien prepared the meal. In her experience a spaghetti bolognaise usually meant a packet of mincemeat, some tomato puree, a chopped onion and an oxo cube, but this was real cooking. How many centuries had it been since she’d tasted something like that? [nothing significant - small talk] |
| My loyalty is a double edged blade: I will stand by you while what you do is right and just, but I will never support you when doing so would force me to betray what I believe. | |
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