dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Feb 22, 2012 22:23:18 GMT -7
Anya followed her 'escort' gracefully through the dense trees as he left the pathway. Each time he touched her, his hand became more invading upon her body. Anya had to steel herself in order to keep her own mind under control. The advances were getting disgusting and each threatened to remind her of past experiences she'd tried so hard to forget. She decided to release her mental barrier, not caring what the other vampire could feel or send to her. She'd be able to resist him easily enough if he tried anything. Such a young thing, that vampire.
The man seemed to sense Anya's distraction and quickly wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her, almost carrying her over a large, fallen log. He laughed at her surprised, even slightly feared, expression. He seemed to be enjoying himself much more than he should and it caused Anya to focus her attention on him more. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lick his lips hungry with desire. It seems that even humans have such habits. Anya thought to herself. Every creature has the sense of desire. Though in some races it is stronger, as with humans. They are fueled by their emotions and erotic emotions. At times it is nothing but disgusting. Oh Mihael, how right you were. Anya looked up at the sky as if her subordinate could hear her. She never really knew the extent of his abilities to tie into her emotions, but at this distance, she knew it was impossible. If she were in the forest with any other creature other than the man, chances were that she wouldn't fair as well. She knew she was weak. Not in strength, agility, or intelligence. Simply in experience. The dangers of being hidden away for hundreds of years. She'd often tried to convince those around her to teach her more than simple defense. But as the years passed, she'd given up trying.
The man again sensed her distraction and took the opportunity to test her reactions. He slid a hand down around her back and pulled her close to him, quickly. Anya gasped in surprise. Her bright blue eyes caught the moonlight in a flash. The man smirked and released her then moved towards a large tree only a few paces away. The gnarled limbs culred among each other and the surrounded trees, creating a ceiling over the floor. The moonlight which had been guiding the two, was filtered. The area appeared ghostly and it sent small chills up Anya's spine. A deep memory pressed against her thoughts. Anya grit her teeth and swallowed. She didn't like the place. The scents she was picking up didn't sit well within her sensitive nostrils. This forest wasn't just a human passing way. She was certain of it now.
Anya felt a tug on her wrist and allowed herself to be pulled forward. The man chuckled and moved pressing the woman's back against the rough tree. The harsh feeling of bark bit into Anya's back through her shirt. In just the connection of the man's hand on her wrist, she could feel his blood racing. He's certainly excited. It's obvious what this man wants. But this isn't about him. Anya played along as the man attempted to trap her against the tree trunk. His eyes hid nothing from the vampire and she knew he would never expect her bite. Anya slid her tongue along her perfect white teeth feeling the sharp points of her fangs as they began to reveal themselves. She sighed slightly, her breath tickling the man's cheek slightly. He smiled down at her and moved closer towards her throat. Anya tilted her head to the side a little, inviting him closer still. Her shoulders tensed minutely. His hot lips brushed her pale skin and she moved in a sudden command of muscles. Vampire desire overruled the human's meager attempts to escape. Anya's tiny, porcelain hand clasped the back of the man's neck. She held him easily as she fed upon his beating life force. She only needed a small amount and she had no desire to kill him. Though he had no way of knowing that. To him she was a monster who preyed upon humans. Anya wrinkled her nose a little, tasting the slight bit of alcohol the man had consumed. She hated the taste and soon pushed the man away. She licked her lips quickly, all trace of crimson gone before the man even hit the ground. Anya flicked her eyes down at him and smiled sweetly. " I appreciate your help, kind sir. Forgive the disturbance." Anya's voice was almost like silk as she spoke to him. The man stared, wide-eyed at the impossibly beautiful monster before him. He seemed like he'd scream if he could gather enough breath. In an instant, Anya was next to him, one hand holding his face towards her, her eyes meeting his. "You had a wonderful night, just talking with a beautiful stranger. Do you understand me? " Anya waited for the man to nod then continued. "Good. Now, I think it's time you went back to the inn. Why don't you go to bed when you get there?" Anya flicked her tongue over the man's wound before standing up. She watched as he followed her instructions and moved back towards the trail. She smiled, knowing he'd remember exactly what she told him. Her compulsion had always worked perfectly on the human race. It was the reason she never had to kill them. She sighed and turned her head ever so slightly, catching a glimpse of her pursuer, the young vampire from the inn. She smiled and nodded once then bent to dust off her skirts. She'd let him come to her if he wished. She didn't want any reason for him to feel threatened for she had no reason to threaten him at all.
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Post by Armored Soul on Feb 26, 2012 16:56:15 GMT -7
Astrid raised an eyebrow at Lestat's ridiculous "rules." They didn't seem to difficult to follow. Still, the idea of purposefully going out to find someone to... satisfy her didn't seem right. She could justify it in her head all she wanted but she still felt terrible about it. Then Lestat's hand was in front of her with his proposal. She didn't want to take it. All of these idiosyncrasies he had really got on her nerves. The way he acted like such a gentlemen and yet went changing in front of her, the way he called her French pet names, even the way he looked at her. Trust was something she needed to learn to do all over again. The scars on her neck reminded her of that every single day.
"Let's," She finally agreed, taking Lestat's hand and standing. "I highly doubt I could upstage you anyway."
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Aidou smiled, a perfect mask for the extreme discomfort he was feeling. The smell of blood was overwhelming him. He needed it now. He wanted it now! But he couldn't simply kill the monk with all these other people around. He needed privacy. All he had to do was keep control of himself a little while longer; it was already slipping away from him.
"Not really. We're wandering and exploring the world. We," Aidou's eyes changed red when he blinked. "meet lots of people too. People come in so many flavors."
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Kain quietly trailed and watched the vampire. He had to admit she was good at what she did. He was surprised when she didn't kill the man and told the man to go back to the inn, and even more surprised when the man did so without question. He moved out from behind the tree concealing him; he'd already been spotted.
"Good evening," He greeted as kindly as he could muster. He was already defensive against this vampire. She'd scared Aidou and showed a strange ability he didn't recognize. He gave a small bow as another polite gesture. "I apologize for the secrecy. You have caused a bit of trouble for me. Whatever your intentions are, I'm going to ask you to keep away from this area for the rest of the night."
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Post by Mother of Dragons on Feb 26, 2012 16:59:23 GMT -7
“We’re killing them,” Van Helsing spoke matter-of-factly. He was being extremely blunt on purpose; if this girl really was part of that prophecy, there had to be a sign that she understood what was happening here. Is this a test, for both of us? Did fate design this job, me meeting this girl, all for a reason? If I only knew… by rights I’m sure I’ll frighten her off here soon enough if I’m way off base on this assumption.
“They’ll only make things worse,” he added suddenly, not sure why he felt he needed to justify his actions verbally. “This man infected his wife and child, and he won’t stop till he dies. Werewolves are like rabid, vicious dogs within their first moon cycle; if we end things now, who knows how many innocent lives will be saved.”
He glanced over at his companion, trying to gauge her response before she spoke it. As usual, he couldn’t read a thing on “Maria’s” face.
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Lestat swallowed an amused smirk; he didn't want to offend the girl too much. He draped Astrid's arm over his elbow, led her out of the loft, down the stairs, through the courtyard, and out into the streets. He made a sharp left, enjoying the crisp sound of the dirty, gravel road under the heels of his polished leather boots. His head didn't turn to either side to acknowledge any villager that looked at him as they passed; Lestat had no care for those below him.
"Want to see a trick?" he asked suddenly, noticing that Astrid wasn't exactly comfortable around these poor, secluded mortals. Without waiting for a response, Lestat led them into the evening shadows of the buildings and houses, stepping just inside the darkness. In the next moment, no one looked their way at all; they had melded into the shade, becoming just another basic, moving part of the night. This was his usual form of travel, one of the first things he taught Louis back in New Orleans, a lifetime ago... Not being seen, but not causing a scene going from visible to invisible is quite the art. The concept is simple, something even Astrid could learn with a little practice. Becoming a shadow, a change of light, an after-thought of the moon's brilliance... it all sounds so much more elegant and beautiful than a vampire usually feels.
The place they were headed wasn't far; a small cottage on the east side of the village where... a acquaintance of his lived. He figured this was the best option for Astrid at the moment, considering she hadn't fed in a while. And if she can't handle it, I guess I was wrong about her. Yes, it's a hard adjustment, but I have a feeling it's just confidence and control she lacks... and that's where I come in. Confidence coach? Heh. Who the hell does she think she's dealing with here? Control? Well, not my strongest point, but I can handle one youngling. I'm curious to see her Dark Gifts, too. This will be interesting.
Once they'd made it out of the main village and toward their final destination, Lestat tried some kind of conversation: "Oh, don't tell me I've frightened you into silence again! Tell me something about yourself, mon cherie; how long did you live in France? Why did you leave?"
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Anne sat down at the base of a tree a while later, getting bored with her constant walking. She should have hit a town or something by now, but, since it was dark, she wasn’t worried; her prey wouldn’t be hard to find once she wanted to seek it out, and the night was still young. She shut her eyes for a moment, running her hand along the new skin on her chin and mouth. I’ll rest for a moment, then get moving again…
“Wake up, love; the sun is going down.”
Anne stirred, twisting clumsily in the cream-colored, red satin-trimmed sheets. The smooth touch of the bedspread and the subtle bounce of the mattress under her naked skin felt so real… but she knew it was a dream. Henry’s voice sounded as perfect as usual, that deep, soothing tone reciting his typical evening greeting to her. No matter what, that odd sentence always made her smile, except now: it wasn’t real.
Henry had been amazed at the fact that, during her early years of immortality, Anne still slept and dreamed. Apparently most younglings lost the ability to sleep and dream very quickly when they were turned. Maybe it was just the European vampires, a trait that couldn’t really be defined or explained by any remote, hard-to-find folklore. Henry said he never dreamed since his first night changed; he claimed it was for the best. He didn’t want to sleep or dream; instead, he would lie next to Anne, one arm wrapped loosely around her waist, the other softly combing through her hair.
Anne wanted to sob aloud when she recalled the feeling; there was no warmth from either of their bodies, the room, or the satin sheets. Everything was ice-cold, deathly-chilled, except for the blood running in their veins. Stolen life, the devil’s happiness, some called it. Anne didn’t care; if she had to drain an entire village dry to keep their frozen bed with her lover, so be it. She loved the cold as long as she knew Henry was there protecting her.
“Annie-dear? What’s the matter? Still dreaming?”
She blinked, looking down at the pillow her head had been resting on a moment ago. The case was stained black and pink from her makeup she’d worn the evening before. That’s what this is, Anne thought suddenly, her heart aching at the realization. I’m dreaming back to years and years ago, when we had our apartment together in Italy. This was right after Henry changed me, when I was getting used to the time changes and the odd lifestyle I inherited. Why am I dreaming like this now? I can’t look at him; I know he’s right behind me, waiting for me to speak, but… he’s not real, not actually in my arms. Can I have this fake conversation without my heart breaking?
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Post by Princess Of Hearts on Feb 26, 2012 19:05:47 GMT -7
Jinx let out a long breath and stared at her feet while she thought though the situation.
On the one hand, he actually made a relatively good argument for getting rid of the ‘kids’. New borns in any species of “non-human” were quite dangerous. Vampires usually stuck around their new borns until the young ones had a grasp on themselves. She didn’t know if Werewolves did anything like that but it seemed like they should if Van Helsing was talking about saving many lives.
On the other hand, she still had that nasty plan to murder Van Helsing in the back of her mind. And she didn’t want to get involved in anything with the Church or killing those who didn’t feed her.
“How exactly do you expect me to kill anything?” She asked, deciding to not worry about anything for awhile. Jinx was not used to thinking so far ahead or caring much about outcomes, so she fell back on her usual tactic and just let things happen. Once this was all over, it wouldn’t matter anyways.
She stopped walking so the hunter and she were facing each other in the road. “You really have a thing for being blunt, so spit it out. I may not be just a bimbo in a bar, but I’m still a woman. Are you getting a kick out of sending me to my grave?” This whole line of thought was logical from a human’s point of view, but Jinx like the idea that in reality she could crush a Werewolves’ head with her foot—there were perks to being old.Carl shuddered as the boy’s eyes turned a bright red. While the monk didn’t have any experience in the field he wasn’t stupid and had spent most of his adult life studying creatures that were not human.
The boy eye color tipped the balance, it all added up to someone far human and Carl wasn’t willing to give the kid the benefit of the doubt. He had to get up to his room and grab one of those weapons he made for the hunters.
He got to his feet nervously, trying not to look too obvious. “Yes, well I’m happy to have met you along your travels. I really have to be going though, early day tomorrow.” He stuttered, walking backwards towards the stairs after leaving too much of a tip on the table. He had the bad feeling that if he turned his back on the boy he’d be in trouble.
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dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Feb 26, 2012 23:04:53 GMT -7
Anya remained with her back to the younger vampire as he approached her. She waited until he'd come close enough to speak in a normal tone before slowly turning around. She ducked her head ever so slightly. It was a gesture she had seen many others perform in front of her. It gave the suggestion that she meant no harm to him. Which was true, though he didn't necessarily know that. She looked at him a moment, though that was all a vampire needed. He appeared younger than she'd originally thought. Perhaps a high schooler, though the way he held himself, Anya thought perhaps he was from a noble family. Or at least one that could afford a prep school or some sort. She smiled gently as he spoke to her and nodded her head. "And to you, young sir." Anya replied politely. She could sense the apprehension in his body and remained at a distance, though it didn't really matter. He was the first she'd spoken to since leaving her native Russia. She allowed her accent to show only slightly, leaving it a bit of a mystery. She blinked and tilted her head to one side innocently. His response had not been one she'd expected. How interesting that already, with barely a word spoken, he's asked me to keep distance. Anya thought to herself before responding. "I have a room at the local inn. Would you rather...leave a woman out in the night on her own? I'm rather new to being by myself." Anya looked down at her hands, twisting them in front of her. She hadn't expected to be so truthful to the boy but she didn't feel he was a threat to her. She pulled her arms up to her chest, crossing them to shield herself. After a moment she looked back up at the younger vampire, careful not to alarm him. "I apologize for the trouble I seem to have caused." Anya sighed a little. She actually did regret it, she had only wished to learn more about them. "I really mean no harm."
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Post by Armored Soul on Mar 8, 2012 13:12:30 GMT -7
Lestat wasn't completely off-base with his assumption. Whatever he'd just done had frightened Astrid a little bit. She wasn't used to seeing or experiencing the abilities of other vampires. Only once had she dared assume she had powers of her own, and she'd banished the thought rather quickly at the time. Now she exhaled, realizing she'd been holding her breath. As it had before, Lestat's attitude irked her. He was so conceited and so arrogant. Maybe that's what happened to you if you spent all your time alone; she assumed that was how Lestat lived. Who could put up with him for more than a day? She wouldn't let herself become like him.
"France?" Her thoughts were reigned it at the mention of her home. Her chest tightened with longing. She wanted to go back, to see her family, to live with them happily again. But that would never happen. She bit her lower lip, watching her feet move along the ground. "I was born there, and I stayed there with my family. I left because I didn't want to kill them."
She was blunt. It was difficult to talk about her family after not having seen them for three years. She'd never even contacted them. Why tell Lestat all the details? It was hard enough to admit that she was afraid she'd hurt her family. Of course, the other reason she left was to track down the manure-eating scum who'd turned her.
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"Aw," Aidou frowned pitifully. He wasn't nearly done with his fun yet. What a party-pooper this monk was. Oh well, it seemed that Aidou would have to cut the games and get to the point. He slowly rose to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, expression ice cold. When Aidou lost control, he was no longer the smiling, bubbly boy he usually was; he was deadly serious. The air in the bar dropped several degrees, a couple of glasses froze over, and Aidou's eyes shined through it all. "I was hoping we could talk a little longer."
With unbelievable speed, the cute blonde had crossed the bar, grabbed Carl's arm, dragged him outside, and pinned him against the shadowed wall of the back of the inn. Moonlight glinted off his red eyes, fangs showing in his grin. He couldn't help it. He loved what he was and purely enjoyed every second of his feeding routine. "I've got an interesting next topic: What's your blood type?"
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"You can take care of yourself, miss," Kain replied expressionlessly. He could feel her honesty and regret, but that didn't change the fact that she made Aidou extremely uncomfortable. Not to mention that he and Aidou were separated now. Even if it was only for a few minutes, Kain hated not having Aidou in his site. His cousin had probably gotten himself in trouble somehow. If a single hair was out of place on the smaller vampire's head, Kain would burn down the whole inn. His eyes still on Anya as little sparks flickered into small balls of flames around him, he continued, "Though your act of innocence is cute, I know it is only an act. Keep away from my cousin or we will have a problem."
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dushasoul
Making a name for themselves.
Posts: 71
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Post by dushasoul on Mar 8, 2012 20:09:32 GMT -7
Anya sighed a little disappointed. She hadn't wanted to upset the younger vampire and she didn't like that he called her innocent appearance as an act. Mihail often had referred to her as young and naive when he was with her. Perhaps it was her own way of protecting herself from the tragedies of her past. She didn't like that she'd made the first two vampires she'd come across uncomfortable. It hadn't been her intention at all. She had simply been intrigued and she had hoped that they would have been as well. Perhaps vampires where different here than in Russia. Though there, most knew who she was. It seems that this one certainly does not approve of me. I may have to move on earlier than expected. Though I hate to leave so soon after meeting a new vampire. Anya dropped one arm to her side, the other wrapped around her torso, hand gripping her elbow. She looked up at the vampire with her own iced blue eyes and searched his gaze, hoping to assure him she meant no harm. She thought for a moment before speaking to him the truth. "I apologize for the trouble I seem to have caused both to you and your cousin. It wasn't in my intentions to do so. Simply put, you are the first vampires I have come across since leaving my home. I suppose my own excitement got to me." Anya bowed in a polite gesture of apology. Something she had learned from watching others in her court. Her long black hair fell down over her face and the small lock of white escaped its hiding place just behind her ear. Anya noticed it and quickly stood upright, shaking her head to cover the memory once again. No matter what I try, I can never escape the past. Anya thought to herself as her hand moved to tuck the white away. She looked to the younger vampire a moment then stepped back a little. His small flares of flame were interesting as she'd not yet met a vampire who controlled such an element. She also new that he meant it as a sign or even a threat. She nodded once again. "I apologize once again. I only wish I understood why I've been met with hostility here." Anya's eyes locked onto the others for a moment before she quickly darted them away again. She didn't like the aura that had taken over, she didn't like being unwanted. It was a new feeling to her. Something she wished to be rid of. "Could it perhaps be that I am older? Or is it the Pure Blood that runs through my veins? Or am I completely wrong in both?" Anya spoke honestly. She didn't feel the need to hide anything from this young man. May as well speak truthfully if I wish to be trusted. [/color]
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Post by Mother of Dragons on Mar 13, 2012 9:48:47 GMT -7
Van Helsing thought for a moment before responding; he didn’t mind if his companion saw him thinking things through, or even if she thought she’d gotten the best of him with her last retort. In fact, the monster hunter didn’t see the point in bullshitting this girl at all: if she isn’t what I think she could be, it’ll be easy for me to take her out if I have to. If she is a normal girl, unlike she says, I can get rid of her easily for God’s sake. What the hell am I stressing anything for?
He considered being extremely sarcastic and rudely tipping his hat to the lady and begging, as a gentleman, for her forgiveness for his behavior, but tossed away the tempting idea. “First off,” he began, trying to keep his wording short and concise without too much irritation, “you would never be harmed; working under me or with me means you have my protection. What kind of hunter would I be if I let my… companion be injured on a simple mission like this? Rest assured, Miss… Maria; your grave is far from you this evening. Second… I expect you to kill a monster like anyone else would: with a weapon.”
This was the part he’d been debating the most in his head: handing over one of his shining, steel revolvers loaded with six silver bullets. If this girl really didn’t like him and was about to throw a hysterical fit at the idea of murder (human or not) she could easily pull the trigger on him. No, it wouldn’t be deadly since the anti-werewolf weapon would not affect him, but… it would hurt like hell and set him back quite a few days. Bullet holes were bullet holes, after all. But something tells me she’s different... is this what they call your gut instinct? Unfortunately, in my life, that’s not a natural ability I’ve ever used. That prophecy from that vampire’s lips stuck in my head for a reason. I’m on the wrong side of this war and I’m actually trying to find these people, but… I’m still killing others. How odd.
Sighing, Van Helsing reached into his trench coat as he spoke aloud: “Be very careful with this; there’s only six shots and I don’t how many we’ll need depending on who’s actually in the house when we arrive. If you’re confident with this gun, I won’t give you any more rounds since the damn things are expensive and my employer throws a Godly fit whenever I ask for more than I received before. If you’re not a good shot, I’ll give you another six.” He held out the revolver in his gloved hand for the girl to take. “Pull the hammer back, aim down the iron, and shoot for the heart or head. Simple… right?”
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Lestat sighed, nodding. He shifted his arm as they walked, the early evening quickly shifting into genuine night. "Ah... short, sweet, to the point... not my favorite type of discussion or story-telling, but no matter. Though I do understand the courtesy you extended to your family; I followed the same general idea when I was turned, many lifetimes ago. It's hard to let go of mortality when you were unwillingly forced into the surprisingly cold arms of the Devil. Though..." he paused, taking a deep breath of the fresh night air before continuing slowly, "I'd like to think that most younglings that still have some warmth of the soul in their heart, or, if you will, a care for those they love, always abandon their homes. You made the right choice leaving France, darling Astrid; don't feel guilty for that, at least. You'll have plenty of sins to burden, but being alone shouldn't be on that list. Chin up till we find that soulless worm of a vampire, yes?" The Brat Prince casually reached over and brushed the back of his fingers under Astrid's jawline, smirking confidently.
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Anne tried to wake herself up, but she wasn’t even sure if she was dreaming; everything in the little bedroom she lay in seemed so real, even the smells were enough to make her want to cry. Wake up, Anne, wake up. You don’t have to reply, you don’t have to do anything if you just open your eyes.
“Don’t be scared, Annie-dear. I know you aren’t stupid; you know this is a dream.”
Anne’s breath caught in her throat, and, despite her better judgment, she twisted around in bed once more to face her lover. Henry looked just the same as always: his pure-white skin shone innocently against the sheets and pillows, his usual smirk on his face. Long, dark blonde hair pushed back, solid black eyes, he could have been completely real. Anne fought back tears and her own muscles, every inch of her wanting to reach out and wrap herself around Henry, never letting him go. But she restrained herself, balling her hands into fists. He’s part of my dream; he knows this isn’t real. But how? Isn’t this all part of my own mind, my subconscious playing tricks on me? I don’t even remember falling asleep, and last I checked, most undead people don’t sleep-walk without being aware of it.
Anne stared at Henry, barely blinking. His bare chest was rising and falling, flexing and relaxing, inches from her. His head was casually resting on his palm, propped up in his large, stiff pillow. She was thinking fast, trying to figure out what to say or if she should stay silent. Was he trying to send her a message, after being abducted and attacked by that werewolf? Could he really communicate with her via dreams? And, if so, why hadn’t he done it before, after years of them being apart?
Just relax, Anne. Yes, it’s painful to see him when you don’t know where he actually is or if he’s even alive anymore, but use your head. There’s no point in overacting. If this dream-Henry is smart enough to talk to me so easily, consciously, why don’t I ask him something? I may only have one shot at this, so I better pick a good question.
“Hen-” she began, then immediately choked on the name. Swallowing, Anne continued: “What is a Key?”
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Post by Princess Of Hearts on Mar 18, 2012 21:44:42 GMT -7
Jinx took the gun and weighted in her hand. A look of disgust crossed her face and then curiosity. She didn’t bother hiding either emotion behind glamours or control. The gun felt a little odd in her hands. Jinx, being unaware of weaponry of any kind, wasn’t sure if the gun itself was special but the bullets smelled like sharp and nasty.
She cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out by staring at the metal contraption if it was death to all non humans, all living creatures, or maybe just werewolves. Technology changed often and she wasn’t sure if that kind of precision was possible.
For a moment a memory flickered through her mind of a boy, one of her brothers, trying to show her how a gun worked. But whatever he’d been teaching her was not useful now: guns had progressed too much.
She straightened her stance and pushed the gun into her skirt’s pocket. “Well I suppose I’ll be fine with six rounds. Just throw me the extras if I show myself to be an awful shot.” She replied while her frown evaporated and was replaced by a cheeky smile. For a moment she remained still, forcing him to stand in the road awkward. Then she flicked herself around and continued walking, her arm still in his.Carl stumbled away from the boy while terror rose in his throat. Adrenaline shot through him while goose bumps and shivers ran up his body. He fumbled in his robes for his cross and holy water.
He hoped desperately, he even ventured a prayer, that he would make it to his room and pull out that new weapon he was bringing to Van Helsing; but if he couldn’t get away quickly enough it might work well to just douse the pretty vampire in holy water.
“Oh God…” he squeaked, turning to run up the stairs. “Halp!” he added, hoping someone would take the initiative to protect his little scholarly body.
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Post by Armored Soul on Mar 19, 2012 11:27:38 GMT -7
This time, Astrid didn't jerk away from Lestat's hand when he touched her. The feeling was a little uncomfortable -- or maybe strange was a more appropriate word -- but she was focusing on what he'd said. What he had said about the soul and heart made her think. She'd always thought vampires were heartless creatures, but were they soulless? What would happen when she died if she had no soul? She wasn't an extremely religious person, but she went along with her family's belief in the Catholic church. If she had been more religious, she probably would have been panicking at this point. Instead she was simply very curious. Though, admittedly, she was afraid of the idea of burning in hell for all eternity because of the people she'd killed.
"When we find him," she began, trying to keep the curiosity out of her voice, "After we kill him, what will happen to him?"
It was only after she asked the question that started to wonder what Lestat would do afterwards. Would he just leave her? It seemed like something he would do. After all, there wasn't a reason Astrid could think of for him to stick around with her. She wasn't that entertaining, and she didn't want to continue her existence as this kind of monster any longer than she needed to. But Lestat wasn't the type of person one could simply walk away from; Astrid knew that. So if he wanted to stay, how would she get rid of him? By that time... would she want to?
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"It is both," Kain inclined his head in a polite bow of acknowledging her higher status. While he disliked older vampires for their superiority complexes and pure blooded vampires for their god complexes, Aidou feared them for their tempers. When Aidou was scared, Kain was angry. The only thing he could think about was half-dead cousin coming back to him and crying in his arm for a whole day. Sleep was usually not an option after Aidou had gotten a "talking to" from the elders of their families.
The small balls of fire around him extinguished in a blink when he was hit with a sudden wave of panic. Aidou had messed up again. It was very possible this wouldn't end well seeing as it was a monk Aidou had insisted on going after. Monk's were holy men; they must carry holy water on their person. Kain's jaw set. Aidou would never be burned by the acidic stuff again if he could help it. He searched for the familiar feel of Aidou's emotional wavelength and connected to it easily. His cousin was beyond his control; Kain needed to intervene.
"If you'll excuse me," he casually ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I need to be getting back to my cousin. My request stands to keep away from him."
If Aidou knew Kain was coming back he would have calmed down and waited. But his mind was too far into his blood-lust to consider waiting. Every once in a while, Aidou didn't mind a little chase. Of course, it was more fun when it was a pretty lady he was chasing but a monk would do for now.
"I've heard that answer before. But I haven't found any information on the blood type 'O-god' just negative and positive," Aidou chuckled, a darkly happy sound that resonated in the clear night air. He sped ahead of Carl and waited for the monk to bump into him. "Play with me a little more."
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