...As the moon rose over the small village near Prague,the town trembled with fear...doors and windows were tightly bolted ,and though most citizens would not say against what...in the depths of their hearts they felt the presence of the unspeakable,shadows that hunted in the darkness...evil that hungered.
Jaroslav hated the night, the darkness. The dark umbral shroud that coated the earth in suffocating blackness, smothering all in a tenebrous blanket of despair that leeched both warmth and hope. He had an impeccable feeling that whenever he gazed into the gloom, something with a thousand thousand eyes and a million butcher-teeth glared back at him from the blackness, running a maggoty tongue over it's fangs in anticipation for the kill to come, so it may rend him to gory chunks, gulping him down like a terrible heron. The Czech man pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders to stave off the night's chill, and in a vain hope that the gesture might somehow protect him from the myriad dangers of the forest, whose trees were gnarled like black warped bones jutting from the earth, each swaying malignantly in the night air. Along with Jaroslav came two men of his village, armed with outdated rifles and hatchets, Cyril and Radko by name, the latter clutching a lead crucifix with such force that his palm bled red ichor onto the ground with each step. Along with the party came Manfred Kessler, a German who toted a powerful handgun and an archaic longsword that showed it's age proudly with numerous nicks and scratches along the iron blade. Kessler had come to the village a week after the mayor's son vanished without a trace from his bedroom, with no sign that anyone had entered the house or left when the incident occurred. The only clue was a smattering of blood on the floor, yet no signs of a struggle to suggest the boy had been injured or murdered. When more children began to disappear under the same circumstances, the Mayor Vladmir had called a meeting in the chapel to discuss what must be done. Action must be taken, but the townsfolk had been unsure of what to do. The authorities in Prague would take too long to arrive, and more children may be claimed as they made their way to the village. Then the withered form of Matka Svatava shuffled forward through the throng and raising a bony hand rotten with age, proposed a solution. When she was a little girl, her village had been attacked by an Upire, who drained the blood of the living to fuel their own unlife. Fighting the creature had been fruitless, and the mayor sent out a letter of distress to Prague, which the authorities ignored as the fever dreams of country bumpkins. But the letter was received and understood by a man by the name of Chaderly Lane, who arrived in the village two days later, with a sword strapped to his back, and a length of sharpened yew in his hands, instructing the villagers to bolt their doors at night. After the sun had set, Lane had sat on a stool in the middle of the town square, the longsword resting on his lap as he read aloud from the Bible. The townspeople did all they could to come inside with them, to escape the death that would inevitably come to the village in the coming hours. The foreigner had smiled, and told them that his fate rested in the hands of God, and they should have no fear for his safety. As the villagers departed, weeping for him, the sun sunk behind the trees, engulfing the town in darkness. Two hours later, Lane entered the church, his blade slick with gore, in one hand, holding the severed head of the Upire in the other. Instructing the priest to burn the remains and bury them under the church, the man departed, asking for no payment or reward, claiming that freeing the village from the terrors of the night was payment enough. Matka Svatava had never forgotten the foreign swordsman, and claimed there were others like him, ready to serve God in ridding the world of the horrors that dwelt in the dark places of the earth. After much debate, a message was sent out to the 'Network' that Matka Svatava had spoken of, and a week later, a German named Manfred Kessler had arrived, his face grim, for he knew what had stolen the children. Kessler had instructed that the strongest men in the village accompany him into the forest, and Jaroslav and his companions had been selected. The German spoke little Czech, but did his best to give instructions through a series of hand gestures and drawings. Trekking into the forest, the party had encountered no hostile being so far, but all save the foreigner were terrified, for this was the forest their parents and grandmothers had told them ghastly tales about when the rain beat against the glass panes of the windows, and the sun hid itself away in mute terror. He had claimed in broken Czech that the creature they sought would come to them, such was it's arrogance, but he wished to be away from bystanders when the battle came. Settling down in the center of the dark wood, the villagers prepared to light a fire, but Kessler rebuked them, explaining in pantomime what would happen to them if the beast saw flame. The trio would never light a single spark with such impunity again. MInutes turned into hours as time flowed like black ichor as they waited in blasphemous core of the forest, the twisted trees seemingly reaching out hungrily towards them, eager to draw their Vitae into their bark with their pale roots. Then the German tensed suddenly, like a whipcord pulled to maximum draw, his senses alert and bright. Drawing his blade, he called out to the darkness in his own tongue, speaking thus; "Nachdem ich name sie Rawhead! Zweimal habe ich Namen, den sie Jäger Gezämt! Dreimal habe Ich Namen, den sie Tommy Rawhead! Vier mal habe Ich Namen, den sie Daemon! Fünf mal habe Ich Namen, den sie Monster!" The very air seemed to shake with his incantation, the trees seeming to bend back as they were rebuked. Only mocking silence seemed to answer him, stifling in it's nothingness. Then, after what seemed to the mortal mind to be hours, but what only could have been seconds, a voice called out in reply; "Na ra chet vaa nu sekk. Ra, nos vel haa irh... Keyth uit vaa, mult chra." The darkness spoke in a voice as dry and as old as bleached bone, seeming to crinkle and tear as it resounded around them. Speaking a second time, it said; "Gha jhk bha, nut io er maaw. Tu eq fstah chrul. Brha vaa sahyr laa! Na! Na!" Then the darkness revealed itself, separating from the gloom to impart terrible horror unto the mortal eyes that beheld it's unholy form. Standing far above the all too human onlookers, the monster was composed of bone the color of parchment yellowed with age, slick with blood that dripped freely to the dead soil to form muddy patches of Vitae. Arms nearly as long as it's body almost scraped the ground with cruel talons that hung with torn meat and gristle from it's prey. But the most terrible aspect of the daemon was it's head, that of an ossified equine, two horribly human eyes peered from it's sockets that freely wept blood that ran down it's bony chin unto the ground. The creature appeared to wear a manic grin on it's skeletal rictus, opening it's jaws slightly as it stalked forward towards the Humanii. The men of the village wept in terror, their childhood fears made into an animate pillar of ossified bone. Cyril ran, bolting in terror from the scene, but the thing simply extended one of it's limbs, and it snaked after him as it stretched beyond what should have been possible, pulling him into it's jaws before the rest of the party could react. Working with cruel efficiency, the monster pulped the villager's flesh and bones with it's blunt teeth, his screams unending as scraps of meat and organs fell to a pile at the thing's feet, his blood further coating it's skeleton, the crunching of his bones drowning out his maddened screams. Radko thrust the leaden cross out in front of him, screaming in Czech for the monster to let him be. The monster spoke in it's paper-rasp voice, speaking; "Hah, lok tyo saa?" Before reaching out with clawed hands to tear the slav to his component parts. Leaping to intercept, Kessler slashed at the beast, chipping it's ribcage with his iron sword. The monster shifted, brining a massive clawed fits hammering around into the German's right shoulder, which deformed with the loud snap-crack of breaking tinder. Dropping the sword from nerveless fingers, Kessler hissed in pain, drawing a powerful revolver from a holster on his belt, taking aim at the monster. Watching the scene, transfixed in terror was Jaroslav, fear-sweat trickling down his face as he held his rifle in the embrace of a dead man. Taking shaky aim a the unholy grotesque, the slav fired a single round from the antique rifle, which sped true to it's mark, burying itself in the creature's eye socket, bursting it's left eye like a pus-filled grape. It stopped, felling the gory hole with a single claw before slowly turning to look at Jaroslav, whose bowels gave way to ice. Looking at the man with a look of pity upon it's death face, Tommy Rawhead spoke in perfect Czech: "You really should not have done that." ...
( Original opening written by Mordo,to whom I owe a huge dept of gratitude in helping me to make this RP posiable)
Greetings, and welcome to Blood Moon ll: Dead of Night, the sequel RP to the much enjoyed Blood Moon RP...
Bellow you'll find all the info you'll need to create your character .
KINDRED (Vampires)
Strigoi (pronounced: Strig-oy)
WS-7/BS-3/S-6/T-5/W-3/I-6/A-3/SV-3+
SIRE: Unknown, possibly Lillith
COMMON NAMES: Shadows, Kinslayers, Night Terrors
DESCRIPTION: The Strigoi are a race of Vampires nearly as old of Cain himself, having hunted the primitive Humanii for thousands of years. All Strigoi are thin and cadaverous, their skin papery and ethereal, and in some cases, appearing as walking skeletons. They often have long, pointed ears arching out from their hairless skulls. What truly set Strigoi apart from the rest of the Vampyre race is their ability to drain the life force from other Kindred, draining them dry as a typical Vampire would drain one of the Cattle. This trait makes the Strigoi mistrusted by their kin, and there has even been a call for their extermination.
TRAITS: Strigoi PCs have all the traits granted to Vampire characters, with the following exceptions:
Strigoi may gain sustenance from feeding off other Vampire characters, this has the same effect as feeding off of a human or werewolf.
Strigoi may have one major NPC and one minor NPC and may have one base of operations
Opriknikki (pronounced: O-prick-nicky)
WS-6/BS-2/S-8/T-7/W-3/I-5/A-4/SV-3+
SIRE: Ivan the Terrible
COMMON NAMES: Black Riders, Ivans, Ferals
DESCRIPTION: The Opriknikki are terrible to behold, massive humanoids built like tanks, with an oversized mouth stuffed with shark teeth. On average, an Opriknikki stands eight feet tall, and is often clad in black or red robes. Males always sport massive black beards that fall down to their waists. The Opriknikki were once the enforcers of Ivan the Terrible, terrorizing medieval peasants for sick games of sport, dragging them through the streets behind their black steeds. When Ivan was Embraced, he bade his warriors to join him in Undeath. The Opriknikki leapt at the chance to practice their cruel way for eternity, and allowed Ivan to Embrace them in turn. The Opriknikki are notorious for ripping apart their foes with their bare hands, and tearing at them with their teeth. Opriknikki do not feed as other Kindred do, rather, they devour the remains of their prey whole, often leading Hunters to mistake Opriknikki attacks as werewolf attacks.
TRAITS: Opriknikki PCs have all of the traits granted to Vampire characters, with the following exceptions:
Opriknikki may NOT have any NPC followers, but may have base of operations
Opriknikki also suffer from the Frenzy trait, as described in the Werewolf entry
Noble House of Brutii (pronounced: Brute-tea-eye)
WS-6/BS-5/S-6/T-6/W-3/I-7/A-3/SV-3+
SIRE: Brutus
COMMON NAMES: Romans, Princes, Betrayers, Et tus
DESCRIPTION: The spawn of Brutus are among the most proud and arrogant of the Kindred, claiming a direct bloodline to Cain, the First. The Brutii (singular and plural forms are the same) surround themselves with the trappings of wealth and nobility, scheming and plotting within great towers and complexes staffed by innumerable thralls and lesser Kindred. Hunters are often wary when on the trail of a Brutii, for these proud Vampires are often two or three steps ahead of them before the hunt even begins. The Brutii avoid direct conflict if they can, preferring to use thralls or Childer to do their dirty work for them. This is not because they are cowardly, but simply because they see physical combat and work as beneath them.
TRAITS: Brutii PCs have all of the traits granted to Vampire characters, with the following exceptions:
Brutii may have up to two mayor NPCs and two minor NPCs and may have two bases of operation
Noble House of Julii (pronounced: Jew-lee-eye)
WS-7/BS-4/S-7/T-6/W-3/I-7/A-3/SV-3+
SIRE: Julius Narciso
COMMON NAMES: Highbloods, Crowd Pleasers, Darkblades
DESCRIPTION: The Noble House of Julii is one of the noble houses of Rome that pledged themselves to Cain whilst he walked the earth. For years, the Julii served Cain with complete and utter loyalty, serving as Cain's ordo militant, hunting down his enemies throughout the Old World. When Rome fell, the Julii were forced out into the wilds, fending for themselves among the untamed woods of Europa. Now having reorganized to a degree, the Julii once again serve as enforcers of the will of Cain.
TRAITS: Brutii PCs have all of the traits granted to Vampire characters, with the following exceptions:
Julii characters begin the game with a silvered melee weapon of some sort, often a sword or a spear.
Dhampyre (pronounced: Dahm-pire)
WS-6/BS-3/S-6/T-5/W-3/I-6/A-3/SV-3+
SIRE: Varies
COMMON NAMES: Half-breeds, Thinbloods, Daywalkers
DESCRIPTION: Dhampyres are a tainted combination of Humanii and Vampire blood, creating a creature more akin to one of the Cattle than one of the Kindred. When a Humanii ingests a large amount of Vampire blood, they run the risk of becoming a Dhampyre, a half-breed Vampire that can walk about in the sunlight, going where the other Kindred cannot. Dhampyres are more often then not deliberately created to serve as spies and messengers for their masters, being fed the blood of their Kindred master daily, enslaving them to it's coppery tang, and making the Dhampyre utterly dependent upon it's sire. Dhampyres sport fangs, but they are much less pronounced then those of their Kindred brethren, appearing only slightly pointed.
TRAITS: Dhampyre PCs have all of the traits granted to Vampire characters, with the following exceptions:
Dhampyres are not killed by sunlight
Dhampyres may have up to two major NPCs and one base of operations
Dhampyres do not NEED to feed off of Humanii blood to survive, however, Dhampyres instead require blood from a Vampire each day or begin to starve, as per the Vampire entry.
GHOULS
Domestic Ghoul
WS-6/BS-6/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-5/A-3/SV-3+
The man waiting in line in front of you at the post office, the pretty girl at the counter, could be ghouls, and you would never know it. Ghouls are creatures that eat human carrion to achieve immortality, raiding the graves of the newly buried to feed on the sweat meat inside. Unlike the Kindred, Ghouls can walk about unseen and undetected amongst the Humanii, often leading respectable and honest lives during the day while eating the flesh of the dead at night. Besides their unnaturally long lives, Ghouls are often attractive and appear rather young. The Ghouls and the Kindred have an agreement of sorts, the Kindred drink, the Ghouls eat, and nobody gets hurt.
TRAITS: These stats are for a Ghoul who has fed as normal, a starving Ghoul reduces stats by -1 for everything except wounds and saves until stats have reached -3, at which point a Ghoul loses a wound. Ghouls must eat at least a pound of fresh Human meat each night or begin to starve. A Ghoul who reaches 0 wounds due to starvation becomes a Degenerate Ghoul. Degenerate Ghouls have the following profile:
WS-7/BS-2/S-7/T-3/W-3/I-6/A-3/SV-3+
Degenerate Ghouls are not suitable for player characters, and pass into the control of the GM.
WEREWOLVES
Nrajah (pronounced: N-raw-jaw)
WS-8/BS-3/S-7/T-7/W-3/I-6/A-4/SV-3+
COMMON NAMES: Nomads, Rogues, Outcasts
DESCRIPTION: Among the Werewolves, the Nrajah Clan is unique. They stand as the only Clan to refuse Lycaelon as their Alpha, and were subsequently driven to the outskirts of lupine society. Hated and despised by the rest of the Lycanthropes, the Nrajah Clan keeps a low profile, avoiding contact with others of their kind, as well as the Humanii and the Kindred. For the most part, the Nrajah remain hidden from the view of all others, dwelling in long forgotten woods and bogs. The Clan tends to bring in Lycanthropes that are at odds with the rest of the Clans, sheltering them from the wrath of their kin.
TRAITS: Nrajah PCs have all of the traits granted to Werewolf characters, with the following exceptions:
Nrajah characters may not have a base of operations.
Nrajah characters may have two Major NPCs and one Minor NPC Nrajah characters do not need to devour human flesh to avoid starvation, animal flesh will do.
GRUBRAH (pronounced: Groo-bra)
WS-9/BS-1/S-8/T-8/W-3/I-6/A-5/SV-3+
COMMON NAMES: Ferals, Longfangs, Madclaws
DESCRIPTION: The Grubrah are monsters beyond words. They gather in small hunting parties by night to raid the countryside, devouring entire villages over the course of several hours. Those of the Grubrah Clan are huge and imposing, often standing head and shoulders over their Humanii prey. Often, the giant monsters bear large scars and necklaces of teeth taken from difficult kills. Their reputation as barbarous savages is well known, and even Opriknikki are hesitant to engage them in combat. Both the Opriknikki and the Grubrah have a healthy respect for one another, earned from centuries of bloody conflict and death.
TRAITS: Grubrah PCs have all of the traits granted to Werewolf characters, with the following exceptions:
Grubrah characters may not have a base of operations.
Grubrah characters may have two Major NPCs and one Minor NPC Grubrah characters have the Rage Universal Special Rule while in Wolf form
LYCAELON (pronounced: Lie-kay-lon)
WS-8/BS-3/S-7/T-7/W-3/I-6/A-4/SV-3+
COMMON NAMES: Regals, Alphas
DESCRIPTION: First and foremost among the Lycanthropes are those of the Lycaelon Clan, named after the founder of the Race of the Wolf. The Lycaelon take great pride in their heritage and make sure that the 'lesser' Clans show them proper respect in their presence. The Lycaelon are the most social of the Lycanthropes, mingling with the Humanii as easily as Ghouls or some of the Kindred, hiding the Beast away until the proper time. They despise the Nrajah as traitors to their race, and hunt them down with relish, even allying themselves with the Kindred to hunt them down. The Lycaelon are the most patient of their kin, content to take time to ensure that their kills go unnoticed.
TRAITS: Lycaelon PCs have all of the traits granted to Werewolf characters, with the following exceptions:
Lycaelon characters may have two Major NPCs and one Minor NPC and two bases of operations
MGRAL (pronounced: Meh-graal)
WS-7/BS-4/S-7/T-7/W-3/I-6/A-4/SV-3+
COMMON NAMES: Skinwalkers, Those-that-play-with-their-food
DESCRIPTION: The Mgral Clan is the closest to Humanity out of all the other Clans, mixing and mingling with their prey to better understand them. Most Mgral appear in the dredges of society, the homeless, drug attics, gangsters, and others all may be a Mgral in human form. The Mgral act as scouts and spies for the rest of the Clans, watching for signs of Hunter or Kindred activity in the area.
TRAITS: Mgral PCs have all of the traits granted to Werewolf characters, with the following exceptions:
Mgral characters are more likely to identify a Hunter or Vampire on sight, and against such characters receive a +1 to Initiative
RAHL (pronounced: Rawl)
WS-8/BS-3/S-7/T-7/W-3/I-6/A-4/SV-3+
COMMON NAMES: Zealots, Overlords
DESCRIPTION: The Rahl Clan seeks to enslave the Humanii, breeding them as slave stock and as a steady food source. The Rahl see Lycaelon as the God of the Hunt, opposed to Cernunnos, who is revered by the other Clans for his prowess. The Rahl view the Master of the Wild Hunt as a Pretender God, and openly mock him. This has caused Cernunnos to curse the Rahl Clan, giving their prey the upper hand during hunts. The Rahl are always attempting to enslave Mankind, whether through lies and manipulation, or brute force.
TRAITS: Rahl PCs have all of the traits granted to Werewolf characters, with the following exceptions:
Curse of Cernunnos: During combat, all foes gain a +1 to their Initiative with attacks aimed at the Rahl character.
HUNTERS
HUNTER ARCHETYPES
During character creation, a Hunter PC may opt to give his character a special set of skills geared towards the elimination of a certain group of supernatural foes. Once an Archetype is chosen, it cannot be changed or swapped out for another one.
Witch Hunter :
Witch Hunters are adept at tracking down and slaying practitioners of the Black Arts, having learned ways to counter their magic and prevent them from casting spells.
TRAITS: Witch Hunter PCs have all of the traits granted to Hunter characters, with the following exceptions:
"Blessed Weapon": The Witch Hunter carries some form of "Holy Weapon" (melee) which has been concecrated against practitioners of " The Black Arts",these blessed weapons always wound on a roll of 2+
" Talisman of Binding": The Witch Hunter has in his possesion some form of Talisman which weakens the powers of any Black Magik user,A Black Magik user facing a Witch Hunter may not cast a spell during the first turn of combat.
" Talisman of Protection": The Witch Hunter also wears a Talisman protecting him/her from any Black Magik spells,a Witch Hunter PC may re-roll any failed saves against Black Magik attacks.
" Thou Shalt not suffer the Witch to Live":..A Witch Hunter is fanatical in their Holy Mission,once a Witch Hunter engages in combat with a Black Magik user the Witch Hunter PC may not retreat from combat.
Witch Hunter PCs will also have anomosity towards a Hunter Djinn,seeing them as " Dabblers in the forbidden arts".
"Tank" aka Juggernaught
WS-4/BS-5/S-6/T-6/W-4/I-4/A-3/Sv-2+
Hunter decked out with heavy armor. Sacrfices speed and mobility to act as a shield for his fellow hunters. Juggernaughts are usually hunters who were gifted with natural brute strength.
Gear: Chamuel Pattern Armor grants them a 2+ save.
Flechette gun for vampire threats, Shotguns with silver laced buckshot for werewolves.
Come at me bro!: The Juggernaught negates one full wound in the combat phase, but at the cost of -2 to their Strength.
"Sniper", Stalker
WS-4/BS-6/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-5/A-2/Sv-4+
Stalkers prefer to deal with their enemies at a distance in order to help prevent them from being injured, killed, or converted.
Gear: High caliber rifle with silver tipped rounds, scope is has night vision capabilities. Low caliber pistol with silver tipped rounds.
Squeeze the Trigger: Allows a reroll for any missed shot that turn, may not fire next turn.
Close quarters, Dervish
WS-6/BS-4/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-6/A-4/Sv-3+
Dervish's are the close quarters experts of the Hunter order, named after the religious practice of the Sufi to whirl around to reach religious ecstasy. They usually wield two blades for a specific supernatural and wear standard armor, although lighter armor is often preferred.
Gear: Ariel or Michael pattern daggers. Ariel daggers are anti-werwolf while Michael pattern daggers are anti-vampire.
Whirligig: The dervish increases the ferocity of their attacks. The dervish gets an additional attack at the cost of -1 to their toughness to represent their lack of attention to defense.
"Medic", Lazarus
WS-5/BS-5/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-5/A-3/Sv-3+
Medics are standard hunters who are responsible for bandaging the wounded and granting mercy to those who become infected. They began to arise after the realization that most hospitals either question the wounds received from fighting the supernatural or weren't capable of dealing with those wounds.
Gear: Raphael pattern medical kit, SMG or pistol with silver tipped rounds. The Raphael pattern kit is a blessed medical kit and allows a reroll against chances of infection.
Soldier, Joans
WS-5/BS-5/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-5/A-3/Sv-3+
Called Joans after the patron saint of soldiers, the basic troops of the hunter order are trained to use all forms of weaponry. They are effectively Jack of All Trades, Master of None.
Gear: May use any sort of weapon and use standard gear, the most ambiguous role available.
Ability: I love the smell of napalm; the Joan is the only hunter class who can rig and disarm explosives.
Sorceror, Djinn
WS-4/BS-4/S-4/T-4/W-2/I-5/A-2/Sv-3+
These are not full blown sorcerors, but those hunters gifted with psychic abilities.
Gear: Archangel Haniel talisman, prevents supernaturals from interfering with psychic abilities.
Abilities:
Telekinesis; the Djinn can hurl objects or things with their minds.
Ward; the Djinn casts a psychic shield around their fellow hunters, preventing mind control.
Holy Bolt; the Djinn casts a bolt of holy energy towards the supernatural causig massive damage at the cost of having to recharge for a turn.
A list of Black Magic spells...
Temporal Flux-A character with the ability to use Black Magik surrounds themselves with an Unholy Aura which warps reality,granting the user the ability to attack with supernatural precision.
This power is used at the start of any player events,if sucessfully cast it enables the caster to re-roll all rolls to hit and to wound.
Master's Lure-Ensnared by the Black magicians powers...those affected by this spell find themselves in thrall to his will.
This power is used during any payer event,if successful it grants the Black Magik user the ability to enthrall (for one combat phase) one opposing PC or NPC,who must pass a LD test to resist the effects.
Revelation of Flesh-The Black Magik user unleashes a writhing ball of Demonic power which tears it's targets flesh from it's bones.
This power may be used in any player event,if successful it counts as a shooting weapon for the black magik user (using his/her BS) and has the following stats..
S-8/AP-1
Breath of the Pit-The Black Magic user unleashes a typhoon of Noxious energy covering it's opponent..
May be used in any player event shooting phase.
The Black Magik user must pass a magik test,if successful,this spell acts as a template weapon,any characters hit suffer one wound on a D6 roll of 4+ with no save allowed.
Putrefy-Offering Praise to it's foul God's,the Black Magic user spews forth a disgusting miasma upon it's foes.
Used during any phase of a player event,if successful,the Magik user hit's all enemy targets with a ST-3 hit,saves apply.
- Devolution- The Black Magik use unleashes a flash of swirling energy wich envelopes the target PC or NPC,resulting in unspeakable mutations and madness.
This spell may be used once during Player combat,the Black Magik user selects a target PC/NPC and a magik test is taken...if successful a D6 is rolled...if the result is higher than the target PC/NPC's toughness the PC/NPC suffers a mutation/madness chosen by the magik user..(more on this later).
Entropic Lash -The Magik User blast at his foes with an evil lightning...
Used during any Player event,if magik test is successful Magik user selects target PC/Npc..and the following attack counts as a shooting attack with the following profile..
ST-4/Ap-3/ AS-3..
All saving rolls apply.
BLOOD MAGICK SPELLS
EXSANGUINATE
The Sorcerer forces the blood within the target's veins to burst forth in a horrifying display as blood streams from every available orifice. To use this spell, the Sorcerer must succeed on a magick shooting attack. Exsanguinate has the following profile:
Range: 24"/Assault 1/AP-3/S-7
CRIMSON MIST
In an hour long ritual involving the 'death' of the caster, the Sorcerer becomes a roiling cloud of Vitae, able to possess the bodies and minds of creatures. Vampires can travel in the daylight in this form, but find a host within an hour or suffer the normal effects for being caught in the sun. A creature in the thrall of a Sorcerer is under his total control, performing any action regardless of the danger to their own person. If the host is killed, the Sorcerer is forced back into his mortal form and suffers 1 Wound from psychic backlash.
List of White Magik spells...
" Holy Bolt"-The Djinnr unleashes a powerful bolt of righteous power,blasting the unholy.
This power may be used in any player event,if the magik test is successful it counts as a shooting weapon for the Djinn (using his/her BS) and has the following stats..
S-7/AP-2
" Shield of the Righteous"...The Djinn cast a protective barrier between himself (and members of his party) against attack.
Used during player combat,if the Djinn is successful in passing a magik test,the streagth of all attacks made against him (and the party he's with) are halved...for one turn of combat.
For example a ST-8 attack would now be a ST-4 attack.
" Touch of the Sun"...The Djinn unleashes a binding burst of light,that effects all supernatural creatures in the area.
Used in any player combat,if the Djinn successfully passes a magik test this power is may be used with the following effects...
Against Vampires "TOTS" causes one wound instantly with no save.
Against Werewolves-" TOTS" Causes them to instantly revert to human form.
Against Witches/Warlocks-Binds their magik powers for two turns during a combat phase.
Against Ghouls-Reveals their true form/cause on instant wound.
For anyone who's unfamilar with the Blood Moon RP,but want's to join...simply fill out a character sheet ...
Player;
Character;
Race and clan/archetype
Physical Description;
Equipment;
Backstory;
Other info:
Virtue-
Vice-
Character: Sky 'Vegas' Henderson
Race/affiliation: Hunter/ Witchhunter
Physical Description: Female, 1.70 m, Mystical tatoo running from her wrist onto her shoulder, brown hair, green eyes, several scars running through her face, 27 years old.
Equipment: Loads of weapons: but prefers her sawed off double barreled shotgun, has a blessed weapon (Katana)
Backstory: Was the sole daughter of Reece Henderson, who was known as the king of spades. He literally owned half of casino's in the East coast.
He got to this wealth by helping vampires, with supplies, etc... But one day he decided it was enough. The vampires were not amused and killed him before Sky's very own eyes.
This was the moment she turned into a hunter. Using the heritage of her father she located the killer. But almost got killed by the vampire. Luckily she was saved By Colt. Who
learned her everything she needed to know. To continue the hunt.
In Empire city Vegas first came into contact with the hunters network. She found out that Colt was once a member of the network, but he never told her why. In the process off cleansing the city,
She lost Colt to a vampire attack. They forced Colt to turn against them, he died quickly there after. In her anger she teamed up with the Network hunters. But the underworld had started to react against the hunters.
They managed to kidnap Vegas and reward her with some scars on her face. Andy Bruss and several hunters helped her escape killing several opriknikki in the process. At this time the city was in chaos,
riots emerged everywhere in the streets of Empire City. The hunters decided that they would use the situation to there advantage. They challenged the might of the supernatural next to the burned theater.
The supernaturals responded in kind and the batlle for Empire started. During this Vegas was entrusted with the care of Dez, a network hunter. Unfortunatly she couldn't stop him from getting bitten.
To make it even worse, she couldn't find the will to kill him. During this batlle Vegas discovered that her little sister was still alive... as a werewolf. The hunter defeated the supernatural at great cost. Afterwards Vegas decided she needed to know more ... she took off, leaving no trace behind.... Searching for "The Oracle of Delphi"
Flaws/Vice: Wrath: As a result of colt's dead, Holly and Dez's transformation, Vegas has decided that evil in all its ways... must be destroyed. There is no more middleground. The cards has been dealt.
Flaw: Just like Colt, Vegas has grown to like cigarettes.
Virtues: Industria/Dilligence: Vegas is stubborn and will continue to press on...
Location/resources: On the road
Vehicle: nothing for now
Stats:WS-5/BS-5/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-5/A-3/Sv-3+
Special rules: "Blessed Weapon": The Witch Hunter carries some form of "Holy Weapon" (Katana) which has been concecrated against practitioners of " The Black Arts",these blessed weapons always wound on a roll of 2+
" Talisman of Binding": The Witch Hunter has in his possesion some form of Talisman which weakens the powers of any Black Magik user,A Black Magik user facing a Witch Hunter may not cast a spell during the first turn of combat.
" Talisman of Protection": The Witch Hunter also wears a Talisman protecting him/her from any Black Magik spells,a Witch Hunter PC may re-roll any failed saves against Black Magik attacks.
" Thou Shalt not suffer the Witch to Live":..A Witch Hunter is fanatical in their Holy Mission,once a Witch Hunter engages in combat with a Black Magik user the Witch Hunter PC may not retreat from combat.
Witch Hunter PCs will also have anomosity towards a Hunter Djinn,seeing them as " Dabblers in the forbidden arts".
Talisman against Vampires.
Major NPC:
Name: Rachel Blackwell
Age: 20
Race/Affiliation: Hunter/ Dervish
Physical Description: Beautiful, tall, long dark hair.
Equipment: Ariel or Michael pattern daggers. Ariel daggers are anti-werwolf while Michael pattern daggers are anti-vampire and a ak-47...just in case...
Backstory: Rachel grew up in a family of addicts. They mistreated and abused her, even made her beg to fuel their addiction. One day Rachel had enough, took a kitchen blade and walked into the room of her tripping parents. She still remebers the blood and screams, altough she would never admit it. After this she dissapeared into the dark underbelly of Atlanta, were one day she met Dez and his uncle, protecting her from a crazed werewolf. She teamed up with them, trying to make something of herself and to see the world.
From that moment she was a Network hunter, Dez and his uncle tought her everything they knew. Iafter time Rachel and Dez saw each other in a different light, from that moment they were locked, never letting each other out of sight. Until the dreaded call came from the Network demanding there assistance in Empire City. This city broke the bond between Rachel and Dez when Vegas told her that Dez had died under the werewolf attack.
After Empire she went with Miranda and her crew, helping where ever she could. But she still felt empty inside. Until one night she left Miranda without warning in search of Vegas.
Afterall scorched souls belonged together...
Flaws/Vice: Has a hard time trusting anyone, She has always be on her own, even Dez she couldn't fully trust...
Virtue: Temperantia- Temperance: Rachel never was one that liked too sit still. She loves a challenge now and then...
Location: In search of Vegas
Vehicle: she drives an armoured jeep (courtesy of Miranda)
special rules: Whirligig: The dervish increases the ferocity of their attacks. The dervish gets an additional attack at the cost of -1 to their toughness to represent their lack of attention to defense.
Player; Hlaine Larkin mk2 Character; Isaac Moon Race; Ghoul Physical Description; 5'7'', 35, Looks a bit like somebody who works in the city. Equipment; Backstory; was an accountant and was happily married until his wife was 'taken' by one of 'them'. Not long after that the firm he worked for closed down. Unable to keep up with morgage payments he got kicked into the gutter where he climbed into a bottle and ahs looked back since. When he was found by Longinus he was a shirveling wreck, Longinus picked him out of the gutter and gave him a purpose, serving his new master. He developed a close bond with his master childe Suzie, together they tried to protect Empire city from the Hunters, before moving to Prague, where he became a ghoul to help further his new masters purpose. Equipment: Biking Leathers, Harley, adequate supply of clothing, 2 glock sidearms with liscences. WS-6/BS-6/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-5/A-3/SV-3+ Virtue-Fortitude- Issac still has the belief that humanity can fix itself even if it requires eating other humani for sustenence Vice- S
Name: Suzie Fletcher Race: Vampire (House of Juli) Age: 23 Physical Appearance: 5'10'' Thin, short black hair athletic body Backgorund: Suzie is a trained beautician. she liked to party at the weekend and during the week worked at a beauty parlour ion the centre opf the city. She used to compete at long-distance running and still likes to keep in shape. After embraced she learned quickly about her state ad the truth about her stength and weaknesses. When she managed to create a charter of a gang in Empire city-her birthplace- but when all other hunters and supernals over ran it they created a cover of begining a gun-smuggling buisness to escape to Prague. She has started the buisness but buisness is slow, and so it is to avoid attention. She is determined to track down her Grandsire, to learn more of the secrets of her sire and vampiric society as a whole. Base: She now owns a Bar (The Rack) and the 2 flats above it on the outskirts of Prague. Both Vukojevic and Isaac live there as well. She can call appon a massive fortune gathered by her graandfather which was hidden in bonds for her and off-shore accounts she now has controll over. Equipment: Her new Harley, Biking Lethears, Adequate supply of make-up and clothing, A berretta sidearm, and a semi-auto Vz. 58 both with liscences, A silvered dagger she fpund in Longinus's lair before leaving Empire City. WS-7/BS-4/S-7/T-6/W-3/I-7/A-3/SV-3+ Virtue- Faith- Desite becoming inflicted with the curse of undeath she still holds closly to her christian origins Vice- wrath- when something threatens her or her frineds she will go out of her way to find the culprit or ensure that is shouldn't happen again. Blood Magick- Crimson Mist
Name: Ahzek Vukojevic (Vook-oh-yeah-vich) Race: Ghoul Age:21 Physical Apperance: 6'3" Well built. Not ripped but does have a fair amount of muscles Background: joined the US army at 18, served a tour of duty in Afganistan but hated what he say in the command chain, and got discharged upon return. Joined a biker charter in his home town of Addison. After 8 months he was called to be part of the new charter in Empire City, with Isaac and Suzie. He alos left for Prague with them as both his parent were Czech Immigrants. He became a ghoul as well to better serve their needs. Equipment: His beloved Harley, His biking leathears, A glock handgun with a liscence for self defence. and adequete supply of clothing WS-6/BS-6/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-5/A-3/SV-3+ Virtue- Charity- He can't bare to see others suffer, he always gives money to any homeless he sees. Vice- Greed- He always takes too much, whether it's food or money from an ungarded till, his body seems to go on autopilot while he does this.
Character:- Ryan O’Brian
Race/affiliation:- Alpha Werewolf
Physical Description:- 6’8”, Irish-American, Amber eyes, Thick Blonde dreadlocks, Heavily muscled stubbley beard, broken nose with a scar line across the bridge, missing his ring finger on his right hand, and his little finger on his left. He has heavy, tribalistic Tattoos across his right arm. Deep scarring across his body from several recent wolf fights. When a Werewolf, he stands at close to eight foot, his body muscle bound, and covered in thick shaggy fur, dark brown in colouration and streaked with blonde. Additionally on his finger tips there are heavy calluses from where his claws tear out and re-enter. Scars are still present on his body, as is the missing fingers.
Equipment/clothes:- Wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a well used and battered leather jacket. He has on his person a pack of cigarettes, he’s a chain smoker. Finally, he wears a necklace threaded with more than a hundred broken teeth taken from various victims, human, vampire and wolf. A memento of his new, more savage side. No weapons apart from claws and teeth.
Backstory:- Ryan is in his early twenties, but has led a painful, and exhausting lifestyle since he was seven. After the events of Empire, Ryan led Holly and Lisa with purpose across America, and back into Europe. He has been proactively hunting for another pack he could enforce authority over. Ryan is also aware of the possible whereabouts of a child he had sired. Additionally, Ryans extreme self control, ironed out after many years of controlling the beast within has made him able to withstand the presence of vampires. As such, Ryan has found himself in an unhealthy, hate-hate relationship with an Opriknikki, his only rival he has met so far in Europe that proved challenge.
Location/resources:- The woods, outside your house.
Vehicle:- His own locomotion.
Other info:- Ryan is looking to bring himself into the foreground as the leader of a powerful pack. He just needs to find the ideal candidates…
WS-9/BS-2/S-8/T-8/W-4/I-7/A-5/SV-3+
Special rule: Rage, ‘To me!’, ‘That one looks good’, ‘I got into a fight once, and it didn’t end well… for him’
Vice: Wrath – Ryan is unique; he can become nigh on unkillable, a frenzied whirlwind of claws, fur and teeth. None, not the Opriknikki, not the Hunters Juggernaughts, or even a full blown armoured truck (Just wait) will slow him down. However, upon entering his rage, he is uncontrollable, his wrath is bestowed upon friend and foe alike, and none can tame his fiery spirit, apart from Holly.
Virtue: Temperance – On the flipside, when Ryan is not a raging animal, he is in complete control of himself, known for his calm demeanour, and his control over animalistic excess that is regularly expressed by his kin.
Player:- Ghosty
Character-Holly Louise Henderson
Race/affiliation:- Werewolf
Physical Description- 5’7”, thin, but strong. Heavy scarring on her left shoulder, with heavy, tribalistic tattooing down her right arm. Dyed hair blue. Pretty, in an unconventional way. Several piercings. Aged twenty.
Equipment:- Vest top and Jeans. She also has with her a small Locket, with two pictures within. One of her sister and one of her father. She cherishes it, and would, and will (Just wait) kill to preserve it.
Backstory- Her sister left her alone when she was very young; apparently leaving to seek revenge on one who wronged her father. Holly never truly understood why she left her, and, when she was old enough, travelled west to try to find her sister. However, fate is fickle, and Holly found herself wrapped up in a war of the supernatural, eventually coming face to face with her sister, but fighting on the wrong side. Ryan led Holly and Lisa across the sea into Europe, with plans of making a name for himself. Holly never once thought of turning back, or abandoning him, her fate was intertwined with his, and she would never leave his side.
Location/resources: In your local Bar, looking for recruits.
Vehicle: Her own locomotion.
Other info: Holly is the currant alpha female, though she has no sexual ties with Ryan. This will inevitable cause controversy in the pack.
WS-7/BS-4/S-6/T-6/W-3/I-7/A-4/SV-3+
Vice/flaw: Forced transformation upon sexual arousal.
Virtue: Humanitas – Holly will prefer to make a good first impression, and will always greet people with mirth.
Player: Ghosty
Character: Lisa-May Alverez
Race/affiliation: Werewolf
Physical description: 5’4”, she’s not the tallest women you’ll meet. She’s Latino in ethnicity, and generally beautiful. Well built, stronger than Holly, and possibly a better match as top female,but subservient still, due to pack mentality that has taken hold of her quite strongly. Heavy, tribalistic Tattoos on her Right arm. Aged twenty six.
Equipment: Vest top, Jeans, her old Police Badge, bandolier with ammo, and a 12-guage SPAS shotgun(given he moniker ‘Masterkey’), loaded with Breaching shot.
Backstory: Lisa was marked out as a promising student at the age of seven. She was gifted at sports, but none could surpass her skill in team sports. Somehow, her presence in a team would make them into a well oiled machine, much to the surprise, and awe of Primary school teachers. By the age of sixteen, Lisa was the captain of the Netball team and Cheerleaders. Lisa excelled like no other, and, upon leaving school, she applied to join the Police force, feeling her skills would not go unnoticed. They didn’t. By the age of twenty five, she had been in charge of Riot squads, SWAT teams, and had spent several years working the beat. It was during this period she had started to notice links in murders, strange disappearances, something vast and complicated. But Lisa said nothing, she had no proof, and her personal fears of individualism kept her mouth shut. Fast forward one year later, and hell in Empire proved to her that she had been right. But then, she had been bitten, and found herself one of the very creatures that Lisa had fought against. But she openly accepted it, willing to become part of a pack, where she could blend in, and forfeit her individual needs for the good of the pack.
Vice/flaw: Lisa is lost without the pack. She feels secure and more at ease with her inner wolf when standing among your fellow Werewolves. She has little identity outside the pack, and finds it difficult to speak in terms of 'I' or 'me'.
Virtue: Humility – Lisa knows her place in the pack, and seeks not to embetter herself.
Vehicle: Lisa drives the others in a commandeered SWAT van, which has acted as a portable house for the others from their travel across America, and into Europe.
Equipment: Possesses a small M9 pistol and a SCAR-H Assault Rifle. Has a Vampire talisman. A silver cross pendant left from his father.
Backstory: His parents were killed when he was 10 years old by "unknown forces" when he was out with a friend. He mourned for ages. And he was left to live with his uncle. His uncle taught him about the Werewolves and Vampires that roam this world when he came of age, and was ready to learn about the harsh truths, and that it was his duty to defend the city against them. He accepted this duty with great pride. One day, he found a young homeless woman on the street, and fell for her. Her name was Rachel. He brought her into his home, and she followed him to be a Hunter.
When he was called to aid the Hunters in Empire City, his life fell into pieces. When the Vampires attacked the Hunter farm when he was not around, they killed his dear Uncle, who was his only piece of family he had left. Then, later on, when he was helping Vegas in a fight against some Werewolves, one managed to bite him in the leg, and he was turned. Vegas didn't have the heart to kill him. He hopes that Vegas had told Rachel he was dead, as he didn't want her to know what he had now become.
Then he met Carl Johnson, the leader of the Lunar Brotherhood. They are a small collection of Werewolves who refuse to believe they are destined to be creatures of evil, and instead try to rid the world of evil forces, such as other Wolves, and Vampires. They are not allowed to harm humans of any kind, apart from corrupted and evil people, who they can feed on. He has now joined them, and he hopes for a better life. Though he cannot forget the events in Empire City.
Virtues: Patience He has learnt to be patient with his actions, he will not alwas rush into things.
Vice: Wrath The events in Empire City have taught him that life isn’t fair, and therefore he shouldn’t be to his enemies. Take no prisoners.
Powers/abilities/status etc. : High Ranking Dez has come to be high ranking in the Lunar Brotherhood, due to constant training and discipline, and therefore has gained a lot of respect, all NPC's in the Lunar Brotherhood will follow just about whatever he says. Marksman Due to extreme training at the firing range, Dez has honed great accuracy with his guns. He finds it hard to miss. Extreme Calm Under tutorage of Carl Johnson, Dez has learnt how to vent away all of his anger and killer instincts when in Wolf form. He can stay in control in Wolf form, and can turn back into human form when he wants (apart from on Full Moon).
Physical Description: Brown unkept hair, white skin, bage duffle coat, blue jeans, brown trainers. Constantly calm
Equipment: Long gold knife passed down from generations of his family, an Uzi, a Desert Eagle.
Backstory: Carl Johnson is part of a family of Wolves, that have been around for generations and generations. His bloodline are always in charge of the Lunar Brotherhood, and therefore he is the man behind it all. When he found Dez he knew that he would become something powerful in the brotherhood, and therefore tutors him personally, and trains him to the best of his ability. If he ever dies, he will make sure that Dez becomes the new leader. This could happen, as they now have to travel to Prague to face the mysterious monsters that reside there in the darkness.
Virtues: Kindness Carl is extremely kind by nature.
Vice: Wrath Like Dez, he has no mercy for evil.
Powers/abilities/status etc: Brotherhood Leader As leader of the Lunar Brotherhood, Carl has extreme authority. Strength and Skill Due to constant training, and born strength, Carl is strong and very skillfull. He has never lost a fight. Respect Apart from having authority, Carl has also earned lots of respect from members of the brotherhood due to his kindness, and battle skill.
A short distance from the village of Hluboká Dřevo,just outside of Prague,in a stately home secluded behind high barbed fences a woman screamed...
Deep within the confines of the mansion,several large men stood in a large hallway guarding a chamber door,inside the room...several more guards stood vigilantly as a young woman lay in bed,her face contorting in agony as she threw back her head and shrieked.
" Hold her" a woman's voice spoke commandingly ..." The Child comes"
Quickly,several of the guards moved to restrain the thrashing female as her form began to twist and change...her features taking on the appearance of a great wolf.
" He comes" a bent a twisted midwife hissed,peering from between the prostrate woman's legs ..." The Pure Blood comes", in a quick motion the hag stood,the creature on the bed howling in pain and relief...
In the midwifes twisted claws she held aloft a wailing child...an infant with the eyes of a beast.
Totaly forgot your requested picture, expect it in about 15 min.
_________
The posts titeled: "Interbellum" will be the actions in the 6 months between the rp's.
Can't wait to see what the others have in store...
_________
BIC:… Interbellum Part 1 ….
“… And welcome back to Celeb View, I’m your host Jack Chadwick. Today we’ll find out if Kate Perry is really pregnant and why Lindsay loghan is back in jail. But before we begin …there has been a grave tragedy in the world of the rich and the famous.
(Dramatic pause)
In the wake of the Empire City riots, the mansion of Partygirl Sky Henderson have been burned down. Taking the life of Sky Henderson. Authorities are still identifying the body but fear it will be an impossible task.
And that’s not all, the Henderson fortune is gone. The police will start an investigation into the stolen money, but are still looking for a lead. We will keep you updated around the mysterious circumstances of her demise. Sky Henderson you will be missed…. And now on to Kate Perry, ever wondered why ….”
Totaly forgot your requested picture, expect it in about 15 min.
_________
The posts titeled: "Interbellum" will be the actions in the 6 months between the rp's.
Can't wait to see what the others have in store...
_________
BIC:… Interbellum Part 1 ….
“… And welcome back to Celeb View, I’m your host Jack Chadwick. Today we’ll find out if Kate Perry is really pregnant and why Lindsay loghan is back in jail. But before we begin …there has been a grave tragedy in the world of the rich and the famous.
(Dramatic pause)
In the wake of the Empire City riots, the mansion of Partygirl Sky Henderson have been burned down. Taking the life of Sky Henderson. Authorities are still identifying the body but fear it will be an impossible task.
And that’s not all, the Henderson fortune is gone. The police will start an investigation into the stolen money, but are still looking for a lead. We will keep you updated around the mysterious circumstances of her demise. Sky Henderson you will be missed…. And now on to Kate Perry, ever wondered why ….”
Rick pulled the key out of the ignition, trying to calm his senses. The last few days had been a disaster. Nobody thought that something like this could ever happen. But still someone managed to do what many thought impossible, and to even make it worse it was done in a few days. The underworld of the city was in chaos, the order was broken and many saw an opportunity to make a throw to domination themselves. Even the Sicalli’s were missing, one of the most powerful families in the region. Ricks entire reality had been thrown overboard, but he was still alive. If he played his cards right, he could even profit from this. He looked into the dimly lit alley, giant heaps of snow grouping at the walls.. A neon signboard trying to lure customers into the bar. Rick manned up, his group was hurt, but not as bad as the others. The time had come to show the outside world that “Hotel Moscow” was still in control.
He closed the door of his Toyota an entered the snowy alley. At the door he checked if his weapon was still on his side. You couldn’t be careful enough these days. A giant wave of warmth flooded him when he opened the corroded steel door. A giant pig welcomed him into Porky’s bar. The paint on the statue had come of in various places. The rest of the bar wasn’t in a better condition. The windows had been darkened, the only light came from the bar, all the rest was broken except one light bulb angrily flashing in the corner. The establishment was empty as far as rick could see, besides the owner behind the bar. “Ah welcome Rick” the owner said. I’ve wandered who would eventually walk in.” Rick seated himself on one of the bar stools, ignoring the stains. “So I guess you guys won?” Rick accepted the glass of Wodka served by Porky. “Its still unclear, but we’re gaining the upper hand.” He hoped Porky couldn’t see his insecurity. Porky’s was the central hub of information in saint-Petersburg. He sold information to anyone, even if it were just hunches. Porky’s opinion was respected everywhere. This was why he was here, trying to sell the image of a powerful house.
Porky nodded, Rick could never read the man’s face, he hoped that this lie would soon be all over the city. Porky poured himself a glass. “Lets hope so, this goddamn war has depleted me off al my business. Half of my regulars have been shot.” He said while he gulped the glass down. “Hmm” Rick said looking at his glass “I still can’t believe what happened. It happened so quick.” Porky grinned “This city was already a vessel waiting to explode, what you have to think about is who started the fire.” Rick glared at Porky, what did he know? But before he asked he heard a voice speaking in broken Russian. “Another bottle patron.” Rick looked at the source of the voice. It came from beneath the angrily flickering light. Rick cursed, he should have seen this. It were these mistakes that could mean the end of your life. After his private moment off cursing to himself he looked at the corner. Porky placed a new bottle of Wodka on the table. Rick couldn’t see the face of this outsider. The only things he saw where his legs stretched upon the table, a dark overcoat and the fire from a lighter. Smoke slowly circled up from the shadow.
“Damn tourists.” Porky muttered if it wasn’t an all out war outside, I had kicked her out already.” Rick raised his eyebrow as porky revealed the gender of the new customer. A lonely tourist in Porky’s bar, these were strange days indeed. “You mentioned something about the arsonist?” It took Porky some time to figure out what he was talking about. “Ah yes, the cause of all this trouble. You haven’t heard about this?” Porky looked at Ricks emotionless face. “Don’t worry rick this information is free, it’s not like everyone in this city knows it.” Rick took a sip from his Wodka, he was curious to find out who could have done it. “Well, it all started when a stranger entered the city, asking for an audience with the Sicalli’s.” Rick snorted “Like it’s that easy.” “Ah, but you see this person showed a lot of green. And as you know if there was a thing the Sicalli’s couldn’t resist it was money.” “So they agreed to meet one another?” Porky nodded. “What did they discuss?” Rick asked. The patron raised his shoulder. “No one knows. But the sicalli’s where on high alert. They bought every weapon there was in the city.” Porky threw a gum in his mouth. “Man, you couldn’t believe the prices they were willing to pay. Something was happening. The next day The sicalli’s went to the docks and picked up some containers. I have no idea what was in it. But whatever it was… It was big.”
Rick hung on the man’s lip. He had heard about this shipment himself. “Drugs?” Porky shook his head. “I don’t know, but what I do know was that the Sicalli’s weren’t the only family he visited.” Rick frowned as he pulled the pieces of the puzzle together . “The fighting started in the docks,… It can’t be that simple?” “Yes it can, money has made people do even crazier things. And to even top this, the containers weren’t even their. But it was too late, everyone saw the opposition gunning for the same prize. It was a slaughter, this battle even destroyed the powerhouse of the Sicalli’s and created a power vacuum where everyone is fighting over now.” Rick gulped his glass down, the strong liquor burning its way to his stomach. “But why? … Is this a new organization, who orchestrated this?” “I don’t know, Haven’t heard anything about that. But if you ask me…” Porky whispered leaning over to Rick. “This stranger, just wanted to see blood.”
Rick rolled his eyes, there were a lot of nutcases in the world. But this couldn’t be one of them. “I’m going to take a leak now Porky.” Rick jumped off the barstool walking towards the backdoor. His breath immediately turned into soft clouds as he walked outside. Rick crossed the small snowed in courtyard. He unzipped his zipper and started emptying himself in the urinal. He heard the backdoor opening behind him. “What? Are you going to give me a hand, Porky.” He joked. No answer came, just the sound of footsteps in the snow. He felt someone grabbing his shoulders. Before he knew it he was laying in the snow. A warm feeling radiated from his crouch. A combat boot stamped down on him in quick succession. He could hear his own nose crack under the merciless hammering. His mind raced in all directions trying to guess who the unknown assailant was. The stamping had stopped. Rick carefully opened his eyes.
It was the tourist. Her scarred face smiled as she pointed his own gun on him. “Hello, rick…” She said. “Who the hell are you?” He asked, while looking for a way out. “You don’t know who I am, thrall?” she answered while lightning up a cigarette. Ricks body froze as he heard the word thrall. “A Hunter?” he said in shock. “Well aren’t you a smart little thing.” She smiled. Rick studied the face once more … scars. His eyes almost dropped out of his sockets when he realized who he was talking against. “Be happy.” She said blowing out a plume of smoke “Not a lot people get to see me … and live.” “You’re going to let me live?” This didn’t make any sense. “I have one condition… where is she?” “Who?” he asked, feigning innocence. His stolen pistol barked. A searing pain flashed through his arm. “I ain’t playing boy.” The pistol barked once more, shattering his knee. Rick’s thoughts jumped everywhere, this lunatic was going to kill him. But still he couldn’t betray her. “Go to hell!” He screamed at the wretched hunter. The hunter sighed. Her bright green eyes stared at him,…. Lifeless.
She pressed her combats on his hand. “Whatever you want, boy.” The huntress said in broken Russian. Ricks hand shattered under the relentless boot. Rick yelled, the pain was excruciating. The huntress kneeled down next to him, blowing smoke in his face. “Scream,…. it doesn’t matter, no one’s listening.” The door behind them opened, Porky’s head popped out. “Porky help me, goddammit.” “The door is closed ma’am. The huntress waved at him and Porky disappeared. “Fething traitor.” “Don’t worry about him.” The huntress said. “Worry about me.” Rick stared into her soulless green eyes. Those horrible eyes…
Porky watched as the huntress walked in. He felt relieved to be on her good side. He couldn’t imagine what happened and he feared what waited for him behind that door. “Did you get what you needed ma’am.”
“I have enough.” She said, drinking the last sip from the Wodka. The huntress walked towards him, Rick’s gun pointed at him. He panicked “I won’t tell anyone what happened, you can trust me.” The huntress just stared at him.
The rain poured downwards from the sky, malovent in its intent, and utterly focused upon its purpose. It was a combination of icey water and snow, and it made travel upon roads an impossible task; you couldn’t see further than a metre in front of the inky blackness. It was a bad storm, the worst seen in Prague for the last seven years. It had been seen as a bad omen, of things to come. Through the darkness A small box shaped van hurtled down a winding road, flood lights blazing a wall of luminescence clearing a path ahead, its wheels barely making contact with the mire that had become an excuse for a road. The vehicle swerved twice as is momentarily lost control, before it raced back on track. Around them the forests branches clacked together as if in applause of their daring, the wooden limbs scratching viciously at the vehicles roofing, scraping the paint clean away with talons of oak, birch and pine. Meanwhile, within the dark confines of the interior of the armoured truck, a huge mound of fur, muscle and bone sat. Rocking gently on it’s haunches in time with the movement of the metal behemoth. By his side, a smaller female wolf lay curled up, sleeping. Her body was covered in sleek chestnut fur, a blue dyed streak moving down between the small of her back, and to the base of her tail, where it faded away. Ryan looked at her body with reverence, a think of real beauty, and then he glanced down upon his own. He too, was beautiful, in his own way. His heavy body was bulked with thick, monstrous musculature, criss crossed with thick ropey scars spreading a patchwork pattern across his back and over his chest. His hands too showed proof of his vicious exploits. Two fingers were missing, one from each hand, small stubs replacing them His fur, thick and mottled further increased his visible size, and his height ensured that he towered above every adversary he had faced so far, leading him to his memento collection. Around his heavy set neck was a long, loose necklace; adorned with the grizzliest of sights. Teeth, and close to a hundred of them. They varied in shapes and sized; some huge and chipped, belonging to fellow wolves that had threatened Ryans position of power. He had torn them loose from the shattered jaws of his opponents, who had vastly overestimated their own stamina, and had found themselves worn down in a prolonged combat, until they could barely stand on their own two feet. Other specimens were more subtle; instead of shaped with brute force in mind, with ideas of tearing flesh from bone, they were instead thin, delicate, needle sharp. Ryan had met a fair amount of vampires during his travel across the world, and none could stand against him. And then, and then there were ‘normal’ teeth. Hunters had found Ryan and his pack more than they had bargained for and they had paid with their lives, and their molars. He recalled back several months, back to the night he discovered his heritage, and the night he realised his destiny…
Well, it's more of an explaination for him discovering what ethnic minority of wolf he's part of, and therefore it justifies me completely going to town on everyone.
"Why'd you just massacre that key NPC?! He was pivotal to the storyline!"
'The Grubrah are monsters beyond words. They gather in small hunting parties by night to raid the countryside, devouring entire villages over the course of several hours. Those of the Grubrah Clan are huge and imposing, often standing head and shoulders over their Humanii prey. Often, the giant monsters bear large scars and necklaces of teeth taken from difficult kills. Their reputation as barbarous savages is well known, and even Opriknikki are hesitant to engage them in combat. Both the Opriknikki and the Grubrah have a healthy respect for one another, earned from centuries of bloody conflict and death. Bitch.'
Bernard Katz paced about his office, feeling older and more worn out than he should at 56, in truth the past few months had weighed heavy on the man and the burdens upon him were starting to take their tole.
Katz rubbed his eyes and poured himself a drink, he had found himself doing that more and more lately...escaping into the bottle rather than admit to himself that what he feared ...what he prayed was taking place wasn't.
Slowly Katz sipped at his whiskey and looked over the last inteligence reports sent from the "Network"...there was no denying it any longer..
Reports from Prague and surrounding villiages...several members of the Holy Order of Hunters missing in action, villagers attesting to having seen a mysterious house that appears in the darkness of night...yet is gone come morning...
Katz hand trembled as he finished his drink, his lips shook as he whispered " The Crooked House"...
With a still shaking hand...Katz reached for his phone.
Vegas looked up to the darkened sky from the safety of Rick’s Toyota. Small flocks of snow falling down, swirling through the busy street. Vegas cleaned Rick’s pistol removing all fingerprints from the gun. She looked at the entrance of one of the highest buildings of Saint Petersburg. Despite all the people traversing the sidewalks, nobody entered the building. How longer Vegas looked, she came aware that most folks didn’t even looked at it. They looked at the ground, friends,…everywhere except the building. After a month’s searching, she had finally found her …. The Oracle of Delphi.
Vegas decided that she couldn’t spend the rest of her life in the car. She stepped into the snowy wind and threw Rick’s pistol in the backseat. She walked down the entrance hall, There was no one in the white hall, Fresco’s ran across the entire room. Depicting the struggle of ancient Gods. She looked at the fresco of Damocless. Somehow she felt just like him, but she was determined to take the sword and use it. She refused to let faith take control. Vegas looked at the end of the hall when the elevator started beeping, it was coming down. Vegas quickly crossed the distance, leaning against the wall. She pulled her two pistols and cocked the hammers. Her heart pumped steadily while she waited for the elevator. With a bleeping sound the elevator affirmed his arrival. Vegas jumped in the box as soon as the door opened. Her pistols aimed….. at a young little boy. She could see the fear running across his body, but the boy bravely pressed his chest forwards. “The oracle is expecting you.” He said in flawless Russian. Vegas clicked the hammers back in position, and returned the pistols back to their place. This boy was harmless.
“Please step into the elevator.” Vegas complied and slowly walked into the metal box. The boy stood on the top of his toes while he pressed the right floor. The doors slit shut, and the familiar music filled the cabin. “So what’s your name kid?” She asked while trying to light up a cigarette. The boy looked at her with anger. “I am Alexander, and you can’t smoke here.” “You’re kidding right?” she asked looking at the defiant kid. “I never make jokes, miss hunter.” Vegas sighed and placed the cigarette back. The boy turned around broadly smiling over his victory. The elevator grinded to a halt, the door opened revealing an open and luxurious penthouse. “Wait here” Alexander said, while disappearing in the penthouse. Vegas let her eyes stroll down the room, It was stylish with a lot of ancient Greek elements. There was even a bust of Plato in the corner. “Welcome Vegas.” A voice said. Vegas saw an old crinkled Woman entering the room, heavily leaning on the little Alexander. “Are you the oracle?” she asked, not sure if she had been tricked. “No need to pull your gun.” The oracle said with a broken voice. “I am the oracle.” “Prove it.” The old lady sighed. “Why does everyone asks that” she muttered to herself. “That vase behind you is going to fall.” The oracle simply stated. Vegas turned around, her overcoat pushing the vase of the little table.
Vegas looked at the remains of what once was a beautiful vase.“How did you…” “Ah, that’s not the correct question. You should ask what would have happened if I wouldn’t have mentioned it. But I’m forgetting my manners, Please sit.” She gestured at the two seats. Alexander helped the old lady sit down in a comfy chair. “My old bones don’t work the way they used too.” She said apologizing.” Vegas seated herself across the oracle, placing her pistols on the table. She wasn’t taking any chances. The oracle just smiled. “Alexander, could you bring some tea.” Alexander clearly didn’t liked the idea of leaving the huntress alone with the oracle, but he nodded and disappeared once more. “So what do you want to ask me?” the oracle said a soft smile lighted her face. Revealing a glimpse of the young women she once was. Vegas looked at her unsure if she would proceed with it. “Come now, nobody goes to the oracle without questions.” “…Is there a cure.” Alexander appeared once more, and poured the oracle a glass of hot water. “Thank you.” She said. She looked back at Vegas. “This question… I heard it more than once….Mothers, fathers….sisters…” She placed her teabag in the cup. “But, I think you already know the answer to that question.” Vegas body turned to stone, she knew. It was foolish of her to hold on to it. But she had to ask. She saw sorrow in the eyes of the Oracle.
“Where is she.” The oracle took a sip from her tea. “Holly….i can’t tell you where she is, But I can tell where she is heading. But you need to promise something.” Vegas hands curled around her pistols. “I didn’t came here to bargain.” She sneered. “Don’t worry my child. I have accepted long ago that I would die tonight. You, Vegas … are my angel of death. I long wondered how I would feel if I came close to my death,… to you.” She raised her shoulders. “I feel empty, the only thing I find myself craving for is rest. Too lay my head down and never awaken. But if you will let me,… I would like to see the sun for one last time.” Vegas looked at the old woman, and nodded. “Thank you Vegas.” She said drinking from her cup. “The one you seek will come to Prague sooner or later.” Vegas released her hands from the two pistols. “How do you know this?” The Oracle smirked. “I don’t…” she continued when she saw Vegas mistrusting face. “The future is a peculiar thing, its flow changes every moment. The future is based on the decision of people, I look ahead of the path and see possibilities. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“So you’re just gambling?” “Well to be correct you would have to say I’m gambling, while counting the cards.” Vegas grinned, the greatest seer, was just a gambler. “So I just have to believe you counted correctly?” “That’s completely up to you, but I have to warn you… I feel a storm gathering over Prague, I don’t know what’s happening, only that it will happen.” “You lost count?” The woman sighed “If someone decided to go somewhere along time ago and holds on to it…. I clearly see it. Split second decision are different… In the past I’ve seen glimpses of this, and as time passed it became clearer…” Vegas nodded, Prague was her destination. And sometimes a lucky guess could be all that you needed. The Oracle placed her empty cup back. Alexander retrieved the cup and walked towards the kitchen. “He’s a bit young to be a thrall, don’t you think?” The Oracle’s face darkened. “I had to do it,…. For you Vegas.”
Vegas frowned “Me…?” She whispered. “Most people that find me, ask me how they will die. I never respond, knowing your end … doesn’t ease your conscious. I appreciate you didn’t ask this, but its important you know this. ….The gathering storm will kill you Vegas.” Vegas heard the news of her own demise. “There are more important things than myself.” “indeed” the Oracle laughed. “but for your sister… I suggest you at least try.” She pulled an old book out of her gown and laid it in front of Vegas. The cover was made of dark leather, golden letters stamped on it. “Malleus Malefacorum” Vegas whispered. “The witches hammer.” “I see you already heard about this, but this isn’t one used by catholic priests…. This is an original one. … I hope you will make the right decision.” Vegas took the old tattered book and placed it in her overcoat. “Why do I need the child?” “Read and everything will become clear,… Now please help an old lady walk towards the light. Vegas stood up and let the oracle lean on her. “Let’s go to the balcony, I always liked the view from there.
Vegas helped her on to the balcony and seated her on the bench. The view of saint Petersburg was impressive. Alexander appeared again. “I don’t need your help Alexander, go inside and play.” The little boy nodded and walked inside. But Vegas saw he just crawled onto a chair and watched them from a distance. She pulled out a cigarette and lighted the tip. The smoke burned into her longs. She smiled at Alexander who was infuriated by the fact she started smoking. “So Vegas… Tell me about Holly…” Vegas looked at the old woman staring at the firmament. It didn’t matter, she tried to remember who Holly was and started talking about the mischief they had caused, the ghost story’s,… Vegas talked until the sun came up, she even told her about Colt. “She seems a real nice girl.” “Yes,… she was”
The first rays of sun started to pierce the sky. “I hope you find what you want Vegas…. Cause I never did.” Blisters started to form on her face as the sun rose from the darkness. “Always remember this Vegas, For each thing gained something must be given.” … Her hair started to smoke as she looked into the sun. “… now, let’s see what’s on the other side.” A tear appeared under her eyes, quickly turning in to steam. Vegas stood up next to the oracle who started to combust. “I hope you find what you want…” Vegas threw her cigarette over the edge and walked inside. She saw the young Alexander shivering in the chair. He was created for her….but why? Not knowing the answer she picked him up. “Lets go downstairs kid.”
Player- Mordoskul Character- Pontius of House Brutii Race- Brutii Physical Description- Pontius, like the rest of his race, is pale and attractive, with short dark hair. He has a strong Roman nose, and smells of oil. Equipment- Pontius carries a gladius made of iron on his person at all times, as well as a garnet ring given to him by Cain himself shortly before his disappearance. Backstory- Shortly after the reign of Caesar, Pontius was Embraced by the reborn Brutus himself, making him his Childe. After Brutus left this world for the World Tree, Pontius became a noble in what is today Germany, later fighting in the Crusades. During the Great War, Pontius fled to Africa, with many of his 'children', where he encountered the Obayifo, the Vampires of Africa. Pontius kept himself hidden for decades, gathering followers and assets in the American metropolis of Empire City. Bending the Kindred within the city to his will, Pontius became Empire City's Prince, ruling with an iron fist, executing those Vampires foolish enough to leave evidence of their meals. When the local lycanthropes began murdering the citizenry, Pontius took note, and began preparing for the inevitable conflict. Meeting in secret with Nero the Mad, the Roman planned his next move, gathering dark forces to his side for a brutal, but subtle war. Learning from his fellow Ancient that Rasputin the Sage was being held in the farm country surrounding Empire City, Pontius made haste to the small farmhouse. Questioning the Russian mystic, Pontius learned that the Sage had lied to him on the subject of Cain's return. In a legendary fury, Pontius dragged the sorcerer outside, where he was crucified on a post used for hanging scarecrows. Being of the Kindred, Rasputin would be unable to survive long in the glare of the sun, save for the fact that he wore the Amulet of Osiris, an artifact that regenerated flesh in the blink of an eye. Pontius intended for the Sage to suffer for weeks as his meat melted and swirled back together, eternally in a flux of gristle and bone. Leaving the farmhouse and taking the two Opriknikki guards with him, Pontius returned to his lair to plot. Later, one of his carriers was intercepted by the Cattle, forcing Pontius to retrieve the artifact she carried himself. Already hot from Rasputin's lies, the Ancient stalked into the Police Office, his choler up. The Roman tore the officer at the desk in twain, but fell short of retrieving the item he came for, returning to his sanctum smoldering with rage. For hours, the Roman dismembered thralls with his bare hands, drinking deep of their Vitae before creating gory works of art with their innards, which were later framed and hung with care. As a city-wide manhunt began for the murderers, Pontius called for Oliver Lane, the famed Blade of the Covens, who stole away into the Police Office and murdered the carrier and retrieved what his master had sought; the Blade of Ages, a kris forged by a race far older than the Humanii made to kill those of the blood of Cain. Days later, Detective Pinkerton came across the crucified form of Rasputin, whose screams caused one of the officers to madness. Pinkerton impaled the mewling man-meat with a spear of wood, placed him in the car, and drove off in search of his new allies. The allies in question were agents from the Network, sent to investigate the bizarre murders, which they correctly thought to by the work of werewolves. In the days that followed, a careless lycanthrope was caught on camera making a kill, the tape falling into the hands of Matthew Crossman, a reporter with no morality, who planned to sell the tape to the highest bidder. During what was later known as the Center, a four-way battle between werewolves, Network agents, police officers, and the servants of Pontius, each of whom sought to see the tape destroyed. In the end, the tape was destroyed, as werewolves led by Musatei tore Crossman apart. In the end, nearly all of the officers, both federal and state, lie dead or dying, with the animus of Pontius controlling Federal Agent Nash like a puppet of meat and bone. In the days that followed, Oliver killed over seven officers in the safety of their own homes, even going so far as to stroll into Pinkerton's house, leaving subtle clues to the intrusion. Later, the young lycanthrope known only as 'Atlas' killed Musatei in a bloody duel that saw them both dead, but left the Pack without an Alpha. Elsewhere, Lillith began to make her way to Empire City, an event that caused Pontius no small amount of worry. Competition was the last thing he needed at a time like this. As the days flowed on, the Ancient Longinus Embraced Pinkerton, trussed him like a prize hog, and dumped him in the front of the Police Station as a warning. Pontius was livid when this was revealed to him, and desperately attempted to pin the blame on the Network as Nash. The attempt failed, but bought Pontius enough time to prepare for the coming storm. Thanks to the actions of the Gladiator, the Cattle knew that the Kindred existed, something Pontius could not allow. Sending Oliver and the Opriknikki to execute the Ancient, the Roman was forced to quit the body of Nash when the Network stepped into the station with Vampire-slaying relics, returning to his base in the Ordo Dracul Chapter House. Longinus was killed, but at the cost of Oliver being sent into Slumber, nearly having his neck severed by the Gladiator's fangs. As the final pieces came together, Pontius ordered thralls to incite riots and start great fires, drowning Empire City in a tide of violence. Releasing a horde of Larvae onto the streets,, the city soon became a slaughter house, with hundreds dead in the course of several days. However, Pontius and his servants were nowhere to be seen, having left North America for Prague, where they took residence in the reality-warping Crooked House, where the witch Black Anise showed them to an ornate room filled with the trappings of royalty. Seated on a great throne made of minute images of shrieking and fearful Humanii was non-other than Cain, Father of the Race of Vampyre. Location/Resources- Pontius currently dwells within the Crooked House. Virtue- Industria, Pontius plans in advance, ensuring that every factor is accounted for. Vice- Superbia, Pontius vastly underestimates the Cattle, seeing them as far beneath his attention, a trait that may prove to be his downfall. Other info- Pontius despises werewolves as degenerate savages, fit only for a bit of sport before disposing of them. Spells- Master's Lure, Crimson Mist
Major NPC Player- Mordoskul Character- Oliver Lane Race-Vampire Physical Description- This eccentric englishman wears clothing taken from a victorian painting, with a beige suit and a black stove-top hat. His razor-sharp features are surrounded by his black hair. Equipment- Set of flensing knives, revolver with silver bullets, cane. Backstory- Oliver Lane was born an orphan in the streets of London, he was adopted by a gang of killers and thieves, moulding the small child into a murderer. After his gang was killed by a raging Pontius, Oliver was spared due to his cruelty, and was Embraced by the Roman. Now wandering the world as the goto man for the Covens whenever they need to send a message, Oliver is rightly feared by the enemies of the Kindred. During the Empire Affair, Oliver was called by his sire to send a message to the Cattle, murdering an officer of the law every night, working his way up the ranks to Pinkerton himself. But alas, this was not to be. Longinus had Embraced the detective, dumping him in front of the Police Station as a warning. This act exposed the Kindred to mortal eyes, forcing Pontius to write a Nex Proeliator, an order demanding the execution of another Vampire. Oliver and the two Opriknikki broke into the Gladiator's stronghold, brining the Roman's harsh judgment to the Ancient. In the end, Longinus lay dead, and Oliver was sent into slumber, his head barely attached to his shoulders. Having now awakened within the Crooked House, Oliver has resumed his dark deeds, picking off Pontius' rivals one by one. Virtue- Patientia, Oliver despises the reckless, taking time to ensure that his mark is where he is supposed to be, when he's supposed to be. Vice- Ira, Oliver never forgives nor forgets, holding onto grudges for decades, long after the offender has forgotten the slight. Other Info- Oliver has done a great deal of research on the members of Pinkerton's task force, and plans on killing one every night until the Blade is recovered. Spell- Temporal Flux
Major NPC Player-Mordoskul Character-The Darkness that Lurks Race-Strigoi Physical Description- The Darkness that Lurks stands just over six feet tall, with long spindly fingers that end in black talons. His flesh is pale and hairless, drawn tight against his bones, giving him a skeletal appearance. The Darkness possess none of the beauty or charm possessed of by the rest of the Kindred, in fact, the rest of his race regards him with disgust and abhorrence, shunning him like a black secret. Equipment- Trench coat Backstory- Not much is known of the Darkness that Lurks, save that he is of the blood of Strigoi, and that he dwells within the Crooked House. The Darkness is an assassin and spy first and foremost, striking from the shadows, drinking life as eagerly and as greedily as a glutton guzzles wine. His specialization is the murder of other members of the Kindred, a fact that makes him loathed and despised by the rest of the race of Vampyre. Yet none dare touch him for fear of drawing the wrath of his employer, Pontius of House Brutii, whose wrath would be swift and terrible. Virtue- Humilitas, the Darkness knows that he is a weapon, nothing more. Vice- Gula, The Darkness that Lurks takes great pleasure in supping upon the Vitae of other Vampires, and will partake of it at any opportunity. Spell- Exsanguinate
Minor NPC Player-Mordoskul Character- Jaime Summer Race- Dhampyre Physical Description- Jaime is a wondrously attractive girl of twenty or so, with brown hair that curls slightly upwards at her shoulders. Jaime's canines are ever so slightly pointed, a trait Jamie herself is slightly self-conscious about. Her green eyes glitter with charm and allure, but their is something more, a slight hollowness that belies her darkest secret. One who peers deeper will see incredible pain and sadness, enough to shatter a soul and unmake dreams. On the small of her back is a raw and red brand in the shape of an open eye, a mark that seems to slowly warp and change into a variety of macabre symbols the longer one looks at it. Equipment- Cell phone, penknife, car keys. Backstory- Jamie came to Prague to get away. She had recently lost her job and gone through a rather ugly breakup, and sought to have some time alone to get her bearings and plan out her life. She never knew why she wanted to sped time in Prague, it just seemed like a good idea, a decision she would later come to sorely regret. Staying at a cheap hotel in the center of the city, she spent most of her time at a local cafe, reading job applications on her laptop. Then she met him. He was a charming englishman who introduced himself as Oliver, and told Jamie he was visiting relatives in the Czech Republic, but was always happy to meet another english-speaker. For weeks, they would meet at the cafe and talk about their lives, exchanging anecdotes and jokes. After the fifth week, Oliver invited her over to his summer home for a chat, Jamie agreed and a date set. However, the address he had given her made no sense, it was far out of the city, deep in the middle of a forest. However, she made up her mind to go anyways, and drove off into the night. When Jamie arrived, she couldn't believe what she was seeing; a great Tudor mansion that warped and twisted with horrid fluidity, barred by a gate of spiked iron. Oliver stood in front of the gate, clad in a beige suit and top hat, a purple crane mask obscuring his features. Jamie had since fallen to her knees, weeping in terror at the utter wrongness of the house before her, but Oliver's voice held her gaze on him as he led her inside. Jamie remembers nothing of what occurs, but now she spends her days chained like a feral dog in the basement, serving Oliver as a slave, spying for him and his master. Every night, Oliver produces a saucer of his blood to her, which she laps up eagerly, a reward for her work. The blood, it's all she cares about now, the coppery tang of Vitae rolling down the back of her throat is the only thing that matters. Deep down, she hates Oliver, and wishes him dead, but knows that without him, the blood would stop, and then, who knows what would happen to her. Virtue- Humanitas, Jamie prefers to greet others with a smile, making new friends as easily as others breathe. Vice- Acedia, Jamie wishes deeply to escape from Oliver, but believes that she would be unable to escape her prison, so she does not try, continuing to languish beneath the floorboards.
Physical Description:Tall, wears a coat (too big) and a hockey mask. Seems bald. (Edit) Also has a hugely oversized wizard hat, like black mages from Final Fantasy.
Equipment: Shotgun, Hockey mask, underarmor, Big silver machete and a copper staff.
Age:???
Backstory: Was found in a hunter's building, half dead. Said the base had been attacked by ghouls. Never said very much after that.
Vice: Wrath, Hockeyhead doesn't really care, thus no regard for life.
Virtue: Diligence:As a result of not caring, Hockeyhead never stops.
Location: Network Base in hluboka Vehicle:None Stats: WS-5/BS-4/S-4/T-5/W-3/I-4/A-3/Sv-3+
Abilities: Holy Bolt and Touch of the sun
Minor NPC Character:Jason Race/Affiliation:Hunter/Joan Equipment:Shotgun with silver shells and mini-flamethrower, and silver knife Physical Appearance:Jason is slightly over-average in terms of height, but has a disfigured face he hides with a paper bag. Location: Network outpost in hluboka Vehicle:Snowmobile Stats:WS-5/BS-5/S-4/T-4/W-3/I-5/A-3/Sv-3+ Backstory: Was a normal hunter until he burnt his face with his flamethrower...
Physical Description: 6'6", wears a suit, brown hair with blond highlights
Equipment: Machete, cell phone, and a sledgehammer.
Backstory: Born in 1383, Musater was placed into this world in a small village in the deep woods of Transylvania. When he was in his 30s, his sister got lost in the deep woods. When he went after her, he found her dead on the forest floor, a few weeks after she left. Whilst carrying her corpse back to their village,, she re-animated, and bit her brother before running off. Stumbling around in the woods, he began to black out. When he awoke, he was stronger, taller, and had a lust for the flesh of his former kin. 6 months ago, he received a package in the mail. His sister's head. As the newly elected Mayor of Prague's assistant (Thanks to his very powerful ties with his fellow Lycaelons), he has begun a secret war against the people who killed his sister.
Flaws/Vice: Revenge: His sole purpose in life is to now kill everyone who is related to the death of his sister. He knows that each side in the war has had a hand in her killing. Power: If Musater can get power, he will.
Virtues: Loyalty: If you are Musater's ally, he will try to help you in any way possible.
Location: Prague City Hall, and a penthouse in the Fashion District. Vehicle: Dukati Hypermotard 1100 Evo SP Stats: WS-9/BS-2/S-7/T-7/W-3/I-6/A-4/SV-3+
Special Rules: Vengance is Mine!: If Musater knows you have had something to do with his sisters death, his strength and WS go up +1. As old as the curse itself: As one of the first to be affected by the Lycan Plague, he can control it better than most werewolves ever dream. He will never change without him willingly want to change.
Backstory: Born during the Soviet Bloc in the 50's, Kiev was a Former Spetznaz Operative, who ate what he killed. The Russian's didn't mind it much, very clean, always got rid of the body. When the Bloc fell, however, things changed. It was harder for Kiev to get a meal, and was almost turning Feral when he was saved by a nice man in a suit. The man, called only Musater, picked him up, helped him get on his feet (Physically and financially) and gave him a few meals of Homeless bums before getting him a job with the police force. Now the principal SWAT member, Kiev still owes his life to Musater. And once in a great while, he gets a call, asking him to do something... Unfavorable. Now, Kiev has been called on to help solve a grizzly murder. The murder of Musater's sister.
Other info: Married, 3 kids (All Adopted)
Virtue- Kind soul: Will help the needy whenever possible, even if his life is on the line.
Vice- Bonded for life: Kiev if forever in Musater's debt. And without him, Kiev would go insane.
MAJOR NPC:
Name: Evanna Lansat
Race/Clan: Werewolf/Mgral
Physical Description: A lot of black. Red hair, and blue eyes. Equipment: .45 Magnum in her purse, a bottle of holy water, and a silver bullet.
Backstory: Turned at the age of 22 in 1997, Evanna is the youngest Lycan in Musater's inner circle. She was turned by request by Musater after she had seen him in Werewolf form, while they were dating. With no other options besides killing her, Musater turned his one love into a creature most foul. Loving referred to as "Pup', Evanna and Musater can be seen together frequently. They were married in 2000.
Virtue: Read you like a book: Evanna is an expert at telling if someone is lying.
Vice: Meth. Pretty self explanatory.
MINOR NPC:
Name: Mr. Pickle
Race: Rottweiler
Physical Decription: 30 inches long, 140 pounds.
Equipment: Choke Chain, RFID tag
Backstory: Musater and Evanna's 6 year old trained Military Rottweiler. Goes for the neck, and for the ball.
Virtue: Never Back Down: Stubborn like a mule, Mr. Pickle will never back down.
The great chamber was built like a cathedral of old, nay, of structures far older than that. A great ceiling seemed to creep on into infinity, with fluted pillars along the edges of the conical structure, giving the appearance of a great ribcage, holding the vast assembly within. Colossal windows of stained glass displayed scenes of horrid depravity not for sane minds. Knights atop white stallions greedily guzzling blood from corpses impaled upon their lances, kings and priests engaged in awful ceremonies, praising dark gods and eating the flesh of men, angels weeping tears of blood as a colossus of black steel sporting a crown of umbral iron atop his skull sheared off their wings with a great blade. These and a million others adorned the walls, shining baleful red light into the gargantuan chamber, pooling like blood where it's dark influence touched. Great columns of gold inset with crimson rubies formed Cyclopean hallways where dark things milled about, stealing each other's lives with snarls and razor-tendrils, their expirations granting great pleasure to those seated above. Vast rows of gilded seats were arrayed throughout the chamber, each occupied by what appeared to be a man, or at least wore the flesh of a Humanii. Untold thousands sat in the chamber, some speaking in soft whispers, scarcely more than the wind passing through one's ears, others spoke in harsh growls that grated the hearing as well as the mind. Great booths adorned the walls, with shriveled and blackened shadows held court, speaking in dark rasps that would tear a mortal mind to shreds if they could comprehend what they said. Chains hung from the ceiling, each sporting a barbed hook, each upon which a moaning figure was impaled, their Vitae spilling to the thirsty mouthes of the congregation below, their moans serving as a grim and terrible orchestra conducted by daemons and lunatics. A great raised podium played host to a pale man, nay, to call it a man would be to liken an insect with a god. Not a man, by a Vampyre, not only of the Kindred, but one that had seen and traveled more than most of their dark race, supping of the dark and forbidden knowledge he had learnt in his travels and studies. He was attended by two red-clad hulks, their eyes a milky white that contrasted with the utter darkness of their beards. The figure in the center sported great gold and crimson robes that were woven from the softest flesh, and dyed with purest Vitae. A garnet ring glittered on his finger, a sign of office as well as pride. His neat hair was black as wickedness itself, and his perfect flesh seemed to glow with self-confidence. He gripped a pulpit carven from a thousand thousand minute sculptures of screaming mortals, each one unique. The face of a grotesque spewed crimson ichor from it's gilded maw as the liquid flowed into a specially formed canal that ran like a spider's web throughout the chamber, defying gravity as it flowed upwards through the veins of the ceiling. Opening his lips and adjusting his tongue, the figure spoke in a voice of the purest gossamer silk, the words flowing like quicksilver across his tongue. When he spoke, the congregation fell silent, eager to hear the news they had been promised. "Mighty Kindred, long have we dwelt in the shadows beneath the notice of the Cattle, stealing their lives away when they were ripe. The past century has been a golden age for our kind, the Humanii think us mythes, stories to frighten disobedient children. We may take their lives with near impunity, the Cattle simply write off our hunts as the acts of the insane or unfortunate accidents. We are invisible, supreme in the knowledge that we are unchallenged, the dominant race on this world. Some may think my statement false, citing conflict with the bestial Lycanthropes or the laughable 'Network' as proof that we are yet challenged by our inferiors. I say to you; have not the gates of Azak-Araj fallen to our superior intellects and military might? Have not the mortal 'hunters' been dismissed as fools by their gullible kin? It is true that those of the Cattle that seek to slay us are a clear and present danger, but it is false that they would be able to topple us from our rightful place as their lords and masters. You may say that the Children of Lycaelon are more physically powerful than we. I say to you; are not the Black Riders the most feared combatants amongst us, that even the great dogs whine and scurry before their coming? However, there is one threat that may see us lowered in station. Treachery, the most abhorrent of crimes may unravel us yet. Lisping fools and cretins seek even now to make themselves higher than Cain! There are those among us even here, even now that look upon my words with hatred. Hating the truth I convey from this pulpit. Since the day our Father left this world for another, those among us have usurped his power for selfish ends, making a mockery of His grand dream. If we are to continue as we have, we must root these traitors out and see their lives revoked for their gall." At these final words, a giant in the robes of old Russian royalty stepped forward and banged a great iron spear on the marble of his raised box, the sound reverberating around the chamber like an angry god hammering upon a massive forge. Thousands of crimson eyes turned towards the offender, who raised a gnarled hand fitted with a half-dozen rings at the speaker. When he spoke, his voice was akin to the growl of a bear, the words rough and unworked. "Can you provide evidence of this wild claim? You, notorious for your plots and schemes, how can you expect to lecture us on internal threats and phantom foes? You murdered my Sage, ensuring his death was long and painful. You stole two of my sons, who now act as your servants and bodyguards. I demand proof that what you say is true!" The man at the pulpit smiled coldly at the one who dared interrupt him. "Peace, Ivan. Rasputin is dead by fault of his own. He spoke lies and falsehoods unto me, and is the custom of my House, the instrument of his lies was removed, and his flesh made forfeit to myself. As for your 'sons', they came to me willingly, seeing the truth of my words and actions, looking beyond the small-minded brutality of your line. As for evidence, I present to you a list of names, each of whom are guilty of crimes against the Kindred. Those such guilty are as thus: Narkhell of Strigoi, Mamos of Carthage, Anthony of Venice," The list continued on, fifty names in all. Muttering and whispers ruled the assembly, as each discussed the consequences of the speaker's words. But true pandemonium reigned only when the final name was read. "Judas Iscariot." Several of the assembled Kindred rose from their seats and shouted at the speaker, calling him false with bile soaked words. The cohorts of Julii patrolling the chamber raised a shield wall to prevent an attack on the man at the pulpit. Judas stood from his grand box at the center of the chamber, shouting threats and accusations. The things below the chamber in the pillared hall howled as one at the pronouncement, creating a horrid din that would deafen a mortal with the sound. Only when Judas spoke, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage, did the throng quite itself. "Under. What. Grounds. Do. You. Accuse. Me?" Each word spat out like acidic blood, each a phrase unto itself. Upon hearing this, the speaker smiled, drawing back the great curtain behind him, revealing the figure that stood once hidden. The assembly cried out in anguish, some clawing out their eyes with their taloned fingers to no avail, for they could still yet see the thing that stood from the dais. Judas fell to his knees, weeping blood as he tried and failed to choke out the word he sought. The speaker smiled, and spoke: "Why do you wither and scream? Is this anyway to honor the return of your King? Have you forgotten his face? For he has not forgotten yours, his memory is eternal, spanning the lives of stars. Why do you weep? Are you overjoyed at his return? Is his love too much for your minds to contain? Or is his true form displeasing to your souls?" The creature from behind the curtain spoke in a gurgling hiss from a million mouths, speaking with menacing import. "I shall speak. If my form is unfamiliar too you, I shall take the one you are familiar." With a flesh-warping pop, the thing became a handsome man wearing a robe of deepest crimson, his pale flesh flawless in every manner. A scepter of gold was clutched in his hand, his staff of office that none failed to recognize. "Be healed, my children." The Kindred that had torn at their flesh to escape what laid before them found their meat knitting together, once again whole. All eyes now were locked on the figure, and as one, they dropped to their knees in reverence, as is proper in the presence of a god. The speaker addressed the crowd with a sweep of his hand, an expression of glee upon his pale visage. "Ave Dominus Nox! Ave Sanguinor! Ave Cain! Know that our Father has returned, and that I am his Hand!" Cain stalked forward, as if floating on a patch of cloud, so fluent were his movements. "Judas my son, why do you kneel? Are you not the lord and master of the Kindred? Did you not overthrow my heirs a mere century after my departure? It is I who should kneel before you." The Red King gave a mocking bow before pointing a finger at Judas, who vanished in a haze of fog, and appeared at his feet. "Abase yourself before me, oh king." Judas knelt fully before his Sire, tears of blood rolling freely down his face. "Kiss my feet, oh lord." The Betrayer kissed the tops of Cain's feet, shuddering as he did so. "You have sat upon my throne in my absence, ruling over my servants in my stead, the crime of a thief and blasphemer. This is how you shall die, like a common criminal." Motioning to the speaker, the Red King intoned, "Pontius, see that he is crucified."
Player; Berserksteve
Character; Sven Tauben
Race/archetype Hunter/Djinn
Physical Description; Male, 5'11", Long dark hair and a short beard. He dresses in simple and low clothing. His features are dull and emotionless.
Equipment; A heavy revolver, Motorcycle and bastard sword.
Backstory: Sven had a father who he had a strong relationship with and no mother. His father was a strong believer in magic and otherworldly things and had his son follow in his footsteps. He never went to school, instead he got all of his knowledge from his father. As Sven grew up he became more and more lost in magic lore and began to lose his connection this world. His father didn't know want to do with his disconnected son, soon he just left him to live on his own at the age of 13. Sven lived by being a common thief and used his skills to help. Then when he turned 18 he heard new his father had been killed by some beast and that's when Sven learned of dangers that exist in this world. Sven soon found a new hobby of hunter evil beings.
Other info:
Virtue- Humility- Sven will never put himself higher then other and will not over estimate his abilities.
Vice- Sloth- Sven is driven by very little and will find himself ignoring problems, even his own.
Gas was starting to get low. Sven stopped by the side of the rode and pulled out a small squire of paper that unfolded into a 3 foot by 3 foot map of the region. He studied it intently, hoping he had found Prague but thoughts were interrupted by a homeless man who held a small toothpick with the U.S. flag on it and the man spoke in a shaky, rusty voice. “Please help the homeless, sir…”
Sven took the toothpick and handed him a dollar “God bless you, sir…” The man said. Sven wasn’t listening to a word, he just thought it was normal of him to give the man some money, he didn’t feel pity for the man nor anger or disgust, his actions were all mechanical. Once Sven knew where he was he put the flag in his coat pocket and drove off hoping he can find a place to eat.
Berserksteve wrote:Thank you, I was hoping to write more but I don't have a good idea of things so I'm just going to play it slow till a get into the swing of things.
That's usually the best idea when just starting out, but don't worry, I'm sure some of the "Hunter" vets will show you the ropes...and if you have an questions don't hesitate to ask.
"You sir! Yes you! Get up here!" The speaker at the seminar said to Musater. "Don't be shy! Come up!"
Musater shook his head, not only at the opportunity to join in one of these so called "Team Building" seminars, but that he had to share this planet with filth like these humanii. They were always second guessing each other, always at each other's throats. He kept the Machete strapped to his thigh, and the Sledgehammer in his closet at work for people his does not like. If he found a way to get rid of what used to be his kind, and simply use them as noursihment, he would. Sadly, he hasn't. Yet.
"Musater, go on!" It was Penelope, the Mayor's favorite aide from Britain. She spoke with such snobbishness that Musater has considered simply smacking her. He would lose his job, however, and if he ever wanted to run this cesspool of a town, he would have to obey the Humanii codes.
"We have a winner! What's your name, good sir?" The man asked Musater. Like he didn't already know.
"Musater." He said, in a dignified, yet annoyed way.
"Any last na-"
"No."
"Ah. I see. Well, Musater, we are going to do an exercise called the 'Trust Fall'. Your co-workers will catch you as you fall, blindfolded."
"Alright. I'm game."
Musater placed on the blindfold, smirking. Using his other senses, he could tell that Penelope, with her Lavender Hand Lotion, Namka, with his "Axe", and Krella, just by the sound her 300 pound body made as her heels hit the floor. She'd make a nice meal for Kiev, Musater thought.
"Ready to fall, Musater?"
"Sure."
"Alright! Fall!"
The sound of the 3 people's bones cracking was enormous, even in a room with acoustics from hell. Crushing the three participants, Musater picked himself, brushed the dust off his jacket, and called 999.
"Hello? 999?"
"Yes. This is Musater over at city hall, and we have a fractured skull, a broken arm, and-" Musater held his hand over the mic on his cell phone. "Krella, is your hand broken?"
"No."
Musater lightly flicked her hand, sending spasms of pain all over her body, and a banshee wail.
"And a broken hand. Room C35."
Musater left the seminar and went home, content that the suffering of his co-workers was a good enough excuse to leave the center of corruption for a few hours.
Player; TheWildHost
Character; Artyom Nikov
Race and clan/archetype Stalker
Physical Description; 6"3, brown hair, Green eyes, Steady hands, 23
Equipment; M93 Black arrow with never fear the darkness engraved and silver tipped incendinary rounds, .30 Caliber revolver(Black)with silver tipped rounds, and a combat blade
Backstory; At the age of 7 Artyom killed his first vampire(His siblings and father restricting hit of course he just decapitated it and watched the rest burn the body) He is the youngest of a hunter family based near 60 Miles east of moscow, He served with the russian army for three years and the spetznaz for 2 years. He has 9 brothers also hunters.He left with one of his brothers to help the hunter network in prauge
Other info: He is easy to get along with
Virtue- Patience, He was a Russian sniper for 5 years( Normal service and Spetznaz) and can wait for a shot
Vice- Lust, Artyom is still a young man and craves many things,Also he enjoys vodka and a smoke now and then(He has learned to go without smoking while on missions, though)
Vehicle- Artyom Shares a Dark Blue truck with his brother
Major NPC Player:TheWildHost
Character: Dimitri Nikov
Phsyical Description: Looks like an Older Taller verson of Artyom
Race and clan/archetype: Joan(He is Artyoms Spotter)
Equipment: AK-74 Kalashnikov With silver tipped incendinary rounds(So he knows he hits mainly)
Glock .45 with Silver tipped rounds, two high shrapnel claymores(ATM)
Back Story: Dimitri was born 3 years before artyom, making him is Youngest oldest brother.He and hist brother bothed served the military together being a sniper team. They have a Brotherly bond making them an exelent team for the fact they know eachother well
Virtue: Diligence: Dimitri Picks up things fast
Vice: Wrath: Dimitri dosn't understand true mercy.
(Well well, it seems I have stumbled upon a pretty successful RP here, hello fellow members, I believe I've RPed with a few of you but this marks the first time I've tried something of this scope. simply put, I try to stay away from stuff that involves the supernatural, too many bad RPs in other places has given me disdain for such things, enter three days ago, when out of boredom, I scanned through the previous Blood moon RP and found that it was indeed, to my surprise, rather interesting, in fact I found it so awesome that I figured I'd throw my lot with the newer one.
And so without further ado, I give to you my character:
Player- WARORK93
Character- Syd Harlow
Race and clan/archetype- Werewolf/ Nrajah
Physical Description- Average height, about 6'3, strongly built, hard in body and countenance, unkempt mane of dark brown hair and rugged facial hair, grey eyes
Equipment/ clothes Wears: A black wide brimmed fedora, an old, brown duster, fingerless leather gloves, cargo pants, hunting boots, a black woolen shroud around his neck used to cover his face.
Weapons: two engraved schofield revolvers in leather holsters, an 1894 Winchester repeater, a sawn off double barrel shotgun, a large, silver, bowie knife
Backstory- Enter the American southwest, circa 1870, the wild west, The lawlessness, the wilderness, the supernatural.....Harlow grew up among the filth and scum of society, he became so averted to such beings that he felt compelled to combat them wherever he could find them. In doing so he became a Texas ranger and battled the criminal element for years on the frontier. His life was as normal as it could be for a lawman of those times but it was not destined to stay that way for long. Little did he know that one of the criminals he had so earnestly chased was an elusive hunter of the supernatural. He evaded Harlow for months and was finally lost to him after a long chase. This was not the end of the story, however, the hunter was also being chased by a pack of wolves and soon Harlow found himself in the middle of the battle between the two forces. Framed by the hunter, Harlow was beset by multiple wolves alone. When the smoke had cleared the only being left alive, though wounded and bloody, was Harlow. The victory was hollow, however, and to Harlow, worse than death. He was bitten and so cursed to be a monster for the rest of his life. Now, shunned by men, hunted by many, he travels alone, on the fringes of society, shunning his less than human form, a lost soul in a now larger than mortal life world. He was chased across the entire continental US and so, in a bid to escape his pursuers, now treks across Europe.
Other info: ---
Virtue- Lone wolf: As a result of his self imposed exile from society, Harlow is completely self sufficient and has learned how to survive by himself.
Vice- All alone: Because Harlow does not trust himself around other people, he is, by definition, a loner, and continuously shuns human contact.
Vehicle- A black Harley Rocker
Stats-WS-8/BS-3/S-7/T-7/W-3/I-6/A-4/SV-3+
Location- The countryside outside of Prague
Human:
Wolf:
Spoiler:
Well, that about does it, although, I have to say, this is all new to me, and I hope I'm not already violating any rules by my entry, please let me know if something is askew. I'm going to admit, I've never really played with as stats system. But there is only one question I can think of asking right now:
Where is everyone getting these awesome pictures?)
Welcome WARORK, glad you enjoyed the previous Blood Moon RP and hipe you enjoy taking part in this one.
To answer your question about the pictures, our own Sillyboy has been posting them up...I'm sure he'd be happy to make one for you.
Lukos stared through the window of his chambers located on the second floor of the secluded mansion, an arrogant smirk spread over his handsome face as he watched the guards outside attempting to shelter themselves from the pounding rain, " Curs" he muttered as he turned from the window and entered the long hallway leading to Natasha's chambers.
A moment later Lukos was gently knocking upon the heavy oak door of his Queens chambers, " Enter Lukos" a voice came from within.
Inside, Lukos found Natasha ,her elite guard standing nearby, The Wolf Queen sat speaking to Margo,the stooped and twisted midwife who had seen the Pure Blood into the world.
" He is perfect you majesty.." The crone hissed .." Perfect and powerful...even now."
" And the Mother?" Natasha inquired , cocking an eyebrow at the hag.
" She is...resting." Margo replied.." In time she will heal.."
Natasha nodded and made a dismissive gesture " I shall be down in a moment...to see the child myself."
" Yes My Queen" the old midwife said bowing and exiting the room.
Natasha turned,her eyes fixing on Lukos..." He has come.." she whispered " The first Pure Blood to be born since..."
" Since the...others my Queen." Lukos offered softly.
" Yes...it has been near two hundred years since then...and now.." Natasha trailed off,her eyes distant...as if in dream.
Lukos was silent, in the past months he'd grown accustom to Natasha's thoughts drifting...her anticipation for the coming of the Pure Blood growing more and more each day.
" Come..." Natasha said, her eyes sharp and focused now..." accompany me to see the child.".
Lukos followed his Queen,accompanied by several Guards, down the master staircase and into the mansions main hall where over three dozen guest had assembled,each come to pay tribute and rejoice at the Pure Bloods arrival .
The assembled guest rose at Natasha's entrance,each bowing slightly as the Queen passed them.
Reaching the bassanet, the Queen paused, gazing down upon the slumbering child, Lukos noticed his Queen tremble slightly as she turned to face the guest, a single tear fell from her ice blue eyes as her lips parted in whisper
" Our time is at hand " she said softly...
For those of you not familar with Natasha,she is the Wolf Queen,the last living Pure Blood born in just under a thousand years.
She is both ruthless and powerful beyond measure, and her followers obey her with out question.
She combines the traits of both the Lycaeon and Rahl clans.
Argh, last night I was hoping to get my intro post which I had got quite far into, when my computers internet totally went, which meant all my work went down the drain...
WARORK93 wrote:(I'm assuming a Pure Blood is a werewolf born to two werewolf parents? Or is it more complicated than that?)
That's it exactly, a Pure Blood is a Werewolf who is born from the mating of two wolves rather than transformed by the bite.
It is extreamly rare for a Pure Blood to be concieved , and perhaps one is born every one hundred years.
Natasha was part of a small pack of Pure Bloods, but with the exception of herself all the others have been destroyed, now she and the new born child are the only remaining Pure Bloods (at least as far as we know).
EDIT:...
Natasha's scheme in the previous RP was to get Ryan (whom she see's as one of the most physically powerful wolves she's ever encountered) to mate with several of Amanda's pack in hopes ofthe conception of a Pure Blood,
Upon discovering she was successful,she allowed the rest of the "lesser" wolves to be gunned down/destroyed and fled with her loyal General (Lukos) and Star ( the wolf carrying Ryan's child).
Player; Devastator Character;Jack Thompson Race: Hunter/Soldier Physical Description; 1,9m, short brown hair,Scarred,29 old Equipment G3A4 battle rifle, Beretta 92, Brown hoodie,Black jeans,Backpack ,Ballistic vest Backstory;Joined the hunters when his family was killed by werewolfs at age of 14. Has spended his last 5 years in Siberia with LItzke. Vehicle: Motorbike Virtue- Diligence Vice-Wrath;
Major NPC Name:Joseph Litzke Race:Hunter/Stalker Age:24 Physical Appearance: 1,8m, blond hair Background:Like the Thompson his family was killed and he joined the hunters as child. withing the network Thompson was tasked of training new hunter and they have worked as unit since. Equipment:Sako TRG sniper rifle, M1911 pistol, Backpack, Ballistic vest Vehicle: Motorbike Virtue- Patiense Vice-Pride
Player: Halonachos Character: Andy Bruss Race: Human Afilliation: Hunter Soldier/Joan Description: 6' 1", brown hair and brown eyes. Keeps his hair short and usually wears a black hat with a gree four leaf clover embroidered on the side. Equipment: His gun features a 7" barrel. Now lets talk about his weapons; Andy carries a .357 revolver which holds silver rounds, the Sword of Ra(aka Bloodsucker's Remorse) , Fidofether(a magic dagger to be used against werewolves), and a small machine gun. Backstory: Andy's father was a hunter and his mother found out about werewolves through him. His parents are both dead but they weren't killed by werewolves or vampires, they died in a car crash when Andy was a teenager. Andy was also in the wreck but managed to survive and was raised in several foster homes before he was given his family's possessions and found out about the network through some of the items in his father's safe deposit box.
In empire city Andy rose quickly through the ranks after hitting the ground running. His first day he helped kill a bloodthirsty 400 year old vampire, lost his partner to a wolf attack, killed several wolves, and pissed off another. His second day he burnt some property of the head vamp in charge, was betrayed, killed the traitor, and became head of the Empire City chapter of the Hunter Network. He then helped destroy several members of the Fallen and personally took the head of Azaziel, literally, he scooped it up in a plastic bag. He is looking for Ryan and Pontius because he has some promises that he wants to fulfill.
In Empire City, Andy also found the love of his life in the form of Wendy and as promised when they were leaving the hospital they got married shortly after.
Major NPC: Miranda Cortez Race: Human Affiliation: Hunter Medic/Lazarus Description: Really tough hispanic woman. Brown hair, brown eyes, 5' 8" with a no nonsense attitude. Backstory: Miranda grew up in a village besieged by werewolves and one day she joined the Network because of it. Miranda saw to the destruction of the wolves who destroyed her peaceful little village and then sought out wolves elsewhere in the world, guided by those in the higher ranks of the Hunter Network. She herself is a higher ranked member and has access to the personal files inside the Networks miasma of documents. If anybody is in the Network she can find them and find their information.
In Empire City she was ordered to deliver special weapons to aid the embattled chapter located just outside the city. That's where she met Andy and the two didn't exactly see eye to eye the first time they met. Eventually they claimed a blessed crossbow and after Andy decapitated Azaziel she had found a source of respect for the cocky bastard. After the events of Empire City she wasn't changed, but she misses those they lost in the battle even though she doesn't want to show it.
Minor NPC: Wendy Bruss Race: Human Afilliation: Hunter Close Quarters/Dervish Description: 5' 9' female with brown hair and dark green eyes. Backstory: Wendy's parents were both hunters and both saw their daughter join the Network as well. Wendy's mother is still alive but her father died a week after Wendy joined the Network, he was killed while the two were investigating the disappearance of a well-known drug addict in the neighborhood. A vampire assaulted them and her father sacrificed himself in order to shield her from a blow that would've went through her chest. She killed the vampire by severing it's neck as it tried to free its hand from her father's torso.
She was part of a special team of Hunters sent to Empire City in order to help a senior agent by the name of Miranda deal with roving werewolves and riot causing vampires. During here time there she hit it off with Andy and later suffered head trauma and broken ribs from the fight at the Theater. She was more than happy to get married after they left Empire city and a little under a month later she conceived. She is effectively out of the Network as a field agent and had her mother move in with Andy and her. She spends most of her time being careful and helping the Network with research into various weapons and enemies.
"Stay in some fething cover!" Andy yelled to his team as he made a dash for the building they were trapped in. Thye had been surrounded and separated from Andy, but he was going to make sure that they would get out of the situation alive and well.
He pulled a grenade and counted to two before throwing it into the area he thought the archenemy was hiding. A loud explosion followed with the screams of several people.
"I have their attention, move, move, move!" Andy yelled out as he got up and unloaded his automatic weapon into his enemies and watched as his squad ran from the building. "Almost there..." he told himself. He didn't see the one sneaking up behind him and with a quick movement a slach had been his undoing.
Andy looked at the screen in disbelief and threw the controller down on the ground, it bounced a little off of the carpeted floor. "Mother fether, I almost had a fething nuke, fething donkey-cave!" he shouted into the mic.
"It's just a game dear." Wendy smiled as she sat on the couch, her feet dipped in a warm water bath.
"I almost had a damn nuke, melon-fethers..." Andy continued to swear under his breath as he reached for the controller. A few seconds later he died a second time in the game, which was enough to make him shut the system off and turn on the news.
A few robberies and a lone hostage situation had been cycling on the network for the entire day, Andy shook his head at the channel's offerings before he decided to leave it on the Sci-fi channel. The faux-leather couch let out a 'whumph' as Andy plopped down next to Wendy. Screams eminated from the TV as a soldier ran into a piece of wood with enough force to impale himself. Blood streamed from the actor's lips as something approached from behind...
"What movie is this?" Wendy's eyebrow raised as she cocked her head as if to get a better view of the world behind the soldier.
Andy pulled up the tv guide on the screen, "Dog Soldiers" was running from 1:00pm to 3:00pm.
"A group of soldiers on a training exercise in a remote Scottish forest become entangled in a bloody battle with a gang of werewolves." Andy read verbatim from the description on the guide, "Two and a half stars."
"I could use a laugh." Wendy said, "What comedies are running?"
"Uh... Two and a Half Men, Big Bang Theory, some sort of stand up special, Deuce Bigalow: European Gigalow..." Andy's face lit up at the name of that movie, it was funny as hell in his opinion.
"No." Wendy knew what Andy was thinking.
"It's a good movie." Andy protested.
"Do that and no sex for you." Wendy added.
"You're pregnant, that's just...weird." Andy looked at Wendy's face.
"Okay then, no sex even after the baby is born." Wendy crossed her arms, feeling safe in her decision.
"Okay then, no Deuce Bigalow." Andy rolled his eyes in jest, "We'll just watch whoever's on stand up."
As Andy changed the channel his cellphone began to ring, "Damnit." Andy said as he looked at the ID.
"Hello, this is Andy." Andy answered.
"Andy, this is Katz, how is everything so far?" Katz replied.
"The apartment is nice and everything is going swimmingly." Andy said as he began to tap his fingers on his knee.
"Well sorry to say it, but you're going to have to leave soon." Katz said, hoping there wouldn't be too bad of a reaction to the news.
"Where to?" was all Andy said.
"The Czech Republic."
"The Czech Republic?" Andy asked calmly.
"Yes, its in Eastern Europe."
"No." Andy replied.
"No? How can you say no?" Katz replied in shock.
"I don't want to go overseas and leave Wendy here alone, that was part of the deal." Andy looked at the ceiling.
"She can go with you."
"She's five months pregnant you loon." Andy was almost shocked at Katz's response.
"Okay then, we'll do something to arrange it so that she comes overseas on a boat." Katz thought for a second and answered Andy's second protest before he could say anything, "We'll arrange somewhere for her to stay so that she's away from any of the dirty work, but close enough for you to get to her."
Andy gritted his teeth.
"Its our job you know." Katz heard Wendy say.
"Okay Katz, a boat should be fine." Andy said reluctantly. ..................
The boat had docked in London before they were let off to meet Miranda as she flew into Heathrow Airport and after that they spent a day in a hotel to rest before driving through the Chunnel, into France, then Germany, and Finally the Czech Republic. During the time Wendy had gotten sick and Andy had been caught looking at some german women, a quick slap to the back of his head reminded him of his vows mainly because Wendy turned the ring so that the diamond would make contact.
They stopped at their final destination in Prague, a nice hotel devoid of scum. This was where Wendy would stay while Andy, Miranda, and any other hunters did their work. Sure enough it was far enough away from the forests that surrounded the city. Andy looked out from the balcony as they unloaded her belongings and saw the sprawled city and a faint line of green on the horizon marking where the vast forest was located.
"Well, this is going to suck." Andy said to himself as a breeze brought in smells from a bakery down the street. The sweet smell infiltrated his nose, "Well maybe not so much..."
Patrick Stelson hurried through the pouring rain, moving in a faster walk. He quickly rushed over the road in front of him, making sure not to get run over, before walking along the street and coming to a turning, which led into a long alleyway. . He checked that he had his briefcase, which was still closed and safe. He smiled. Then he saw an old lady send him a worried glance, as he walked into the dark alleyway. It was evening, so very dark, and now he was in the Hob. It was a place where criminals and dealers thrived. No normal person went down there, for fear of their very lives.
He continued down the alleyway until he came to another turn, where there was a dirty white door before him. Slowly, he turned the handle on the door, and walked inside, to what appeared to be a bar. There was smoke in the air, and shady people taking a drink by their table, sending evil glares towards any who came up to them..
Patrick walked up to the bar, the briefcase in hand, and sat down on a stool, before talking to the bartender, who had his back turned.
“Tony,” he said to the man, who then turned around, and smiled as he saw Patrick. “Has he come in yet?”
“Ah, Patrick, it is good to see ya,” Tony said warmly, passing a beer to Patrick. “And yes, he is here. Over in that corner there,” he said, pointing to a dark table in the corner. “He doesn’t talk much though. But anyway, if you wanna do your deal, then take it outside, as I don’t want any of my… regulars, getting interested.”
“Sure thing,” Patrick said, downing his drink quickly. “I’ll make sure to keep it quiet,” then he picked up his briefcase, before walking over to the dark table.
There was a man there, his face was concealed by the shadows, and Patrick felt a little uncomfortable being around him. Just a little.
“You,” he said to the stranger. “Are you Phaser?”
The man nodded, and took a sip of his drink.
“Then you’ll want to go ahead with the deal. You will of course want to see the merchandise, but we’ll have to take it outside. Now.”
The man seemed to be annoyed by this tone, but didn’t see it, instead he simply said,
“Of course.”
Before he stood up slowly, and walked over to the door at the back of bar, his face no visible, but showing no emotion.
Patrick followed, and, when they were out the back, in a small alleyway, he laid his briefcase on top of a dumpster there, and opened it, revealing many small plastic bags, filled with white powder.
“Now, for my payment,” Patrick said, a dirty smile on his face.
“Here your payment,” came a looming voice from on top of the building. There, in the moonlight was a crouching figure, his hand between his legs. He was wearing a black hoody, blue jeans, and had fingerless gloves on his hand. And the most recognisable aspect was his spiky, blonde hair. But his face was full of hate.
Something sharp elongated out of his fingers, and he jumped off the building with finesse, and outstretched his arms. Then there was a bone shattering crunch as he landed on Patrick, making him take the full brunt of his fall. And there was something else. Patrick had been stabbed in the gut, for when the young man stood up, Patrick realised that there were razor sharp claws where his finger nails should be. They were covered with blood.
Struggling to maintain consciousness, vision getting blurry, Patrick heard him speak.
“So, Patrick Stelson,” he said, voice showing no sign of emotion towards him. “Drug and weapons dealer. Your transactions have made some peoples lives here a misery. Your gain is their pain. Well, I only have one thing to say to you Patrick,” he said calmly, turning around, his arm outstretched, to show a shiny pistol. “This is a Desert Eagle, one of the most powerful pistols on the face of the Earth. I like to call it a Dezert Eagle. Nighty night.”
Then there was a bang, and nothing more.
*******************
The two wolves were locked in epic combat, the female one took a swing at the other, but he dodged it, and came up with a strike of his own. She grabbed his arm, and then he came around to do the same with hers. They were caught in a grapple, each pushing hard to get the other on the ground. The male let go of her arm, an grabbed hers. Then, he swung, and threw her to the white concrete wall. She smashed into the wall, leaving a huge indent in it, but still got up, and came back to fight him.
She charged, but he was ready for her. Just when she was about to run into him, he strafed to the right, and sliced her stomach with his claws. She whelped in pain, and he got behind, her and brought up his leg, for a strong, straight kick to her back. She went flying into the wall, fell, and tried to get up, before slumping back to the ground, defeated.
The male, closed his eyes, and began to vent out all of the hate and anger, just like Carl had taught him, and slowly, he returned to his human state.
He walked over to the female, who had now also turned back, and helped her up to her feet.
“Sorry about that,” Dez said with a smile.
“It’s nothing, handsome,” she said, a French accent obvious.
“Sure about that Kes?” he asked Kestrella.
She nodded. Kestrella had always fancied Dez, ever since he had joined the Lunar Brotherhood, and flirted with him very often. He never took much notice of it.
“You might want to get a shower now, like me,” she said. “In fact, want to join me?”
He laughed.
“No, I’m fine,” he answered, before walking over to the door, which slid open for him, and he walked through.
There, waiting for him, was Carl Johnson.
“Dez! Brilliant fight in there. You have learnt well, obviously,” he said, chuckling.
“Thanks Carl.”
“No problem. But walk with me a minute. We have things to discuss.”
“Of course,” Dez answered, walking over to follow Carl.
“Things have been happening Dez. Supernatural things. In Prague, the Czech Republic. There is a town there were deaths have occurred. We need to go in.”
Dez looked worried by this.
“We have to?”
“Yes. Indeed. It is our duty.”
“Who will be going then to sort it out?”
“You. Kestrella. Dominic,” Carl listed. “And I will.”
Dez nodded in acknowledgement.
“It will be an honour.”
“Good,” Carl smiled. “I’ll get you on a plane later today, as it is urgent. Until then, get a shower, and practise on the firing range.”
“Of course,” Dez said, and went to walk away.
“And Dez,” Carl said, as Dez turned his head back to find out what Carl had to say. “Good work yesterday, I am just sorry we didn’t get the others in the Hob.”
“It’s no worry, they get their deaths one day.”
Carl was surprised by the tone Dez took. “What?”
“The patient Hunter does not rush in to a fight,” Dez answered calmly.
“You are patient now, are you?” Carl asked, chuckling.
ghosty wrote:All wolves can, only issue is that on full moon they tend to lose it.
This... any wolf can transform at will, but( as you may recall) during the full moon (Blood Moon) they're craving for human flesh becomes uncontrolable.
Character- Elizabeth Crawley - 'Scarlett'
Race- Kindred/unknown
WS-6/BS-5/S-6/T-6/W-3/I-7/A-3/SV-3+
Physical Description-Tall at 6'0in, very much so for here birth era, was considered a bit of a freak by locals of her home town in 1470. Slim, athletic with long natural bright red hair that seems to glow with an deeper red, fresh after a feed.
Equipment- Various, her wealth allows her to access a certain amount of items, of if desperate her supernatural abilities allows to take what she needs. She has access to Silver bullets just in case Werewolves want to interfere with her plans.
She has a small amulet she has had for as long as she can remember, that seems to do nothing, however it was Olivia's so she wears it. (It actually mask's her location from Lilith, the only reason the ancient doesn't know exactly where she is.)
Vehicle- Has a red 1974 Corvette Stingray Coupé
Backstory-The daughter of Lord Sebastian Crawley of Cambridge, born in 1450, she was turned into a Vampire in 1471 by Daniel Thynne. He was a Vampire cursed with his existence and often 'bestowed' the gift on those he felt deserved the torment he felt. He saw her decadent lifestyle, using her fathers money to get what she wanted and tried to teach her a lesson. After realising he had created a monster he lost even more of his desire to remain among the living, and disappeared. Scarlett has not seen him since, or even heard of him from other Vampires so has no idea if he still 'lives' somewhere. During the summer of 1490 Elizabeth met a young woman called Olivia, she became obsessed with her and quickly turned her into a Vampire.
However jealous eyes caught wind of this new relationship, and a Vampire named Victoria appeared, first acting as a ally to the two younger Vampires. She helped them deal with a local Werewolf that had attempted to kill Olivia earlier during the same year. But it was just a game to Victoria, she played with their emotions, tearing them apart by convincing each girl to betray the other, then killed Olivia by draining her completely and tried to do the same to Scarlett. Only luck, or fate saved Scarlett when locals who where friends of the Werewolf tracked them to Scarlett's lair and in the confusion of Victoria killing the mortals, Scarlett managed to escape and hid under the earth.
After spending many long years in torpor, Scarlett awoke in the summer of 1680, Everything she had known was long gone, there was no sign of Victoria, but that was a good thing, something in Scarlett sensed that she was alive somewhere, but she was in no rush to discover where. She spent many long nights pondering her fate, she felt betrayed, punished, and tried to find some solace in herself. It forced her to consider her actions more carefully.
It was then that Olivia's spirit came to her, Olivia was trapped between planes of existence, not dead by mortal means, slain by a Vampire, she was trapped in a limbo upon the earth. She told her that Victoria had moved on, but had not found any of Scarlett's hidden money, so Scarlett took everything she could carry and headed with a chest to find a ship across the waters. A new life was beginning for many across the waters and she wanted to follow them.
She adjusted to life in America over the years, spending most of the time in Boston as it grew up around her. She used what she had to hide, and when that finally ran out she found new ways to make money, either through bars, and other activities involving night-life of the era. Eventually during the changes of the Twentieth Century she found a new love of music and the media. She moved across several locations taking advantage of free love and the hippy revolution to check parts of the US she had not dared attempt to reach before. Music really captured her attention and she spent twenty years making a lot of money running a nightclub in Las Vegas. However other threats and news that an old rival had surfaced forced her to move on. The threat was of course Victoria, she could smell her as soon as she arrived in Las Vegas, and Victoria seemed to sense her also, after Victoria killed a ghoul Scarlett sent to kill her, she decided to flee, there was no sense in fighting her old adversary unless she had no other choice
Taking all the cash from her safe, she brought a new car and came to Empire City in mid 1989 and has quickly found a new home for herself within the shadows of the night-life there. She now lives as before, happy with her new home once again, she has considered Victoria may show up again and has decided this is her last stand. If Victoria arrives again at some point in the future, there will be no more running.
That was then, this is now. For the first time in years she had won, Victoria even if just for a moment had finally lost. Since the darkness that plagued the Empire City and caused a worldwide media frenzy, Scarlett returned to her home in Las Vegas. Everything was still there, her staff had continued to run her nightclub in the city and apart from the sad news of Walt's death she stepped back into a life she had fled twenty years previously as if she had never left. Or that would be the case if not for one thing troubling her, something she read in the file destroyed in the flames that claimed Longinous' lair. Perhaps she would have taken the words as false, the ravings of a fool, but Victoria, no Lilith had confirmed them before her defeat.
She had also brought Nero with her, over the weeks and months she found some strange comfort about him being close and he too saw something in the woman before him. Making suggestions that there where allies that would eventually want to meet her regarding her blood.
As she waits for a sign, something stirs within her for the first time in hundreds of years, a desire to meet her sire once again.
Location/Resources- Las Vegas, owns the The Rain Nightclub, a large house on Beluga Way, and a warehouse in Henderson.
Virtue/Merit- Blush of Health
You look more hale and healthy in appearance than other Vampires, allowing you to blend with Human society much more easily. You retain the colour of a mortal and you flesh is only slightly cool to the touch.
Vice/Flaw- Ira (as noted in other info)
Other Info- Scarlett hates being told no, it makes her angry when she doesn't get her own way. This has got her into trouble in the past, but she seems unwilling to learn from those mistakes. She also really hates Werewolves, sees them as walking fur coats that have a tendency to bite.
NPC: Name- Nero
Race- Vampire
Background- Scarlett knows little about him, but there is a strange peace between them, like he is teaching and learning from her at the same time.
Vegas looked up to the darkened sky from the safety of Rick’s Toyota. Small flocks of snow falling down, swirling through the busy street. Vegas cleaned Rick’s pistol removing all fingerprints from the gun. She looked at the entrance of one of the highest buildings of Saint Petersburg. Despite all the people traversing the sidewalks, nobody entered the building. How longer Vegas looked, she came aware that most folks didn’t even looked at it. They looked at the ground, friends,…everywhere except the building. After a month’s searching, she had finally found her …. The Oracle of Delphi.
Vegas decided that she couldn’t spend the rest of her life in the car. She stepped into the snowy wind and threw Rick’s pistol in the backseat. She walked down the entrance hall, There was no one in the white hall, Fresco’s ran across the entire room. Depicting the struggle of ancient Gods. She looked at the fresco of Damocless. Somehow she felt just like him, but she was determined to take the sword and use it. She refused to let faith take control. Vegas looked at the end of the hall when the elevator started beeping, it was coming down. Vegas quickly crossed the distance, leaning against the wall. She pulled her two pistols and cocked the hammers. Her heart pumped steadily while she waited for the elevator. With a bleeping sound the elevator affirmed his arrival. Vegas jumped in the box as soon as the door opened. Her pistols aimed….. at a young little boy. She could see the fear running across his body, but the boy bravely pressed his chest forwards. “The oracle is expecting you.” He said in flawless Russian. Vegas clicked the hammers back in position, and returned the pistols back to their place. This boy was harmless.
“Please step into the elevator.” Vegas complied and slowly walked into the metal box. The boy stood on the top of his toes while he pressed the right floor. The doors slit shut, and the familiar music filled the cabin. “So what’s your name kid?” She asked while trying to light up a cigarette. The boy looked at her with anger. “I am Alexander, and you can’t smoke here.” “You’re kidding right?” she asked looking at the defiant kid. “I never make jokes, miss hunter.” Vegas sighed and placed the cigarette back. The boy turned around broadly smiling over his victory. The elevator grinded to a halt, the door opened revealing an open and luxurious penthouse. “Wait here” Alexander said, while disappearing in the penthouse. Vegas let her eyes stroll down the room, It was stylish with a lot of ancient Greek elements. There was even a bust of Plato in the corner. “Welcome Vegas.” A voice said. Vegas saw an old crinkled Woman entering the room, heavily leaning on the little Alexander. “Are you the oracle?” she asked, not sure if she had been tricked. “No need to pull your gun.” The oracle said with a broken voice. “I am the oracle.” “Prove it.” The old lady sighed. “Why does everyone asks that” she muttered to herself. “That vase behind you is going to fall.” The oracle simply stated. Vegas turned around, her overcoat pushing the vase of the little table.
Vegas looked at the remains of what once was a beautiful vase.“How did you…” “Ah, that’s not the correct question. You should ask what would have happened if I wouldn’t have mentioned it. But I’m forgetting my manners, Please sit.” She gestured at the two seats. Alexander helped the old lady sit down in a comfy chair. “My old bones don’t work the way they used too.” She said apologizing.” Vegas seated herself across the oracle, placing her pistols on the table. She wasn’t taking any chances. The oracle just smiled. “Alexander, could you bring some tea.” Alexander clearly didn’t liked the idea of leaving the huntress alone with the oracle, but he nodded and disappeared once more. “So what do you want to ask me?” the oracle said a soft smile lighted her face. Revealing a glimpse of the young women she once was. Vegas looked at her unsure if she would proceed with it. “Come now, nobody goes to the oracle without questions.” “…Is there a cure.” Alexander appeared once more, and poured the oracle a glass of hot water. “Thank you.” She said. She looked back at Vegas. “This question… I heard it more than once….Mothers, fathers….sisters…” She placed her teabag in the cup. “But, I think you already know the answer to that question.” Vegas body turned to stone, she knew. It was foolish of her to hold on to it. But she had to ask. She saw sorrow in the eyes of the Oracle.
“Where is she.” The oracle took a sip from her tea. “Holly….i can’t tell you where she is, But I can tell where she is heading. But you need to promise something.” Vegas hands curled around her pistols. “I didn’t came here to bargain.” She sneered. “Don’t worry my child. I have accepted long ago that I would die tonight. You, Vegas … are my angel of death. I long wondered how I would feel if I came close to my death,… to you.” She raised her shoulders. “I feel empty, the only thing I find myself craving for is rest. Too lay my head down and never awaken. But if you will let me,… I would like to see the sun for one last time.” Vegas looked at the old woman, and nodded. “Thank you Vegas.” She said drinking from her cup. “The one you seek will come to Prague sooner or later.” Vegas released her hands from the two pistols. “How do you know this?” The Oracle smirked. “I don’t…” she continued when she saw Vegas mistrusting face. “The future is a peculiar thing, its flow changes every moment. The future is based on the decision of people, I look ahead of the path and see possibilities. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“So you’re just gambling?” “Well to be correct you would have to say I’m gambling, while counting the cards.” Vegas grinned, the greatest seer, was just a gambler. “So I just have to believe you counted correctly?” “That’s completely up to you, but I have to warn you… I feel a storm gathering over Prague, I don’t know what’s happening, only that it will happen.” “You lost count?” The woman sighed “If someone decided to go somewhere along time ago and holds on to it…. I clearly see it. Split second decision are different… In the past I’ve seen glimpses of this, and as time passed it became clearer…” Vegas nodded, Prague was her destination. And sometimes a lucky guess could be all that you needed. The Oracle placed her empty cup back. Alexander retrieved the cup and walked towards the kitchen. “He’s a bit young to be a thrall, don’t you think?” The Oracle’s face darkened. “I had to do it,…. For you Vegas.”
Vegas frowned “Me…?” She whispered. “Most people that find me, ask me how they will die. I never respond, knowing your end … doesn’t ease your conscious. I appreciate you didn’t ask this, but its important you know this. ….The gathering storm will kill you Vegas.” Vegas heard the news of her own demise. “There are more important things than myself.” “indeed” the Oracle laughed. “but for your sister… I suggest you at least try.” She pulled an old book out of her gown and laid it in front of Vegas. The cover was made of dark leather, golden letters stamped on it. “Malleus Malefacorum” Vegas whispered. “The witches hammer.” “I see you already heard about this, but this isn’t one used by catholic priests…. This is an original one. … I hope you will make the right decision.” Vegas took the old tattered book and placed it in her overcoat. “Why do I need the child?” “Read and everything will become clear,… Now please help an old lady walk towards the light. Vegas stood up and let the oracle lean on her. “Let’s go to the balcony, I always liked the view from there.
Vegas helped her on to the balcony and seated her on the bench. The view of saint Petersburg was impressive. Alexander appeared again. “I don’t need your help Alexander, go inside and play.” The little boy nodded and walked inside. But Vegas saw he just crawled onto a chair and watched them from a distance. She pulled out a cigarette and lighted the tip. The smoke burned into her longs. She smiled at Alexander who was infuriated by the fact she started smoking. “So Vegas… Tell me about Holly…” Vegas looked at the old woman staring at the firmament. It didn’t matter, she tried to remember who Holly was and started talking about the mischief they had caused, the ghost story’s,… Vegas talked until the sun came up, she even told her about Colt. “She seems a real nice girl.” “Yes,… she was”
The first rays of sun started to pierce the sky. “I hope you find what you want Vegas…. Cause I never did.” Blisters started to form on her face as the sun rose from the darkness. “Always remember this Vegas, For each thing gained something must be given.” … Her hair started to smoke as she looked into the sun. “… now, let’s see what’s on the other side.” A tear appeared under her eyes, quickly turning in to steam. Vegas stood up next to the oracle who started to combust. “I hope you find what you want…” Vegas threw her cigarette over the edge and walked inside. She saw the young Alexander shivering in the chair. He was created for her….but why? Not knowing the answer she picked him up. “Lets go downstairs kid.”
"Wake up you lazy dog" Dimitri said shaking Artyom." Artyom get your ass up we leave for Czech in 2 hours, we still have to load everything and fire a few test shots before we leave" Dimitri said before slugging Artyom in the stomach. "Im going to get you!" Artyom rasped. "Get me later, start packing." Artyom and Dimitri were the two youngest boys in a 9 Child and father hunting family. " Dimitri, which car are you taking?" Their mother said. "The blue truck" Artyom blurted while eating some toast. "Why are you boys going to take a truck?" Perset asked.He was the firstborn and a great fighter. "We have to go to Czech to reinforce some hunters there."Dimitri responded holding up a letter. The Nikovs were a well known hunter family with a large estate, many vehicles, and many weapons to back up that statement. Al male Nikovs had to serve the military, as ordered by their great grandfather."Who is leaving for Czech? Dimitri? All alone, my boy bring Perset or leny!" The father said coming out of the bathroom. "Father, me and Artyom are going to Czech as a sniper team" Dimitri cooly replied" Besides only Us and perset arn't out on a hunt." It was true. The 6 others were hunting a Grubah with some help from other hunter familys in Siberia. All Nikovs knew the danger of a grubah and even though 6 men was enough, no one wanted to come home with half a skull.
"Target, 600 meters." Dimtri said looking throught he range finder." Two targets moving up 300 meters and closing. Enemy sniper, he hasn't spotted us, 1400 meters" Dimitri informed artyom cooly." Im taking the shot at the sniper" Artyom replied adjusting himself" The one in the rocks?" "Yes" the shot was silenced by the suppresor, but it still sounded loud. Artyom was a crackshot in all ways. Rubber bullets started to go off around them and Dimitri returned fire with his Ak-74. They were using normal bullets, not silver tipped. The gunrange they had could be used to set up a mockbattle. The targets fired Rubber bullets with sometimes supprising accuracy. Ok they were done.
Artyom woke up startled by the hit given to him with the back of his brothers hand."donkey-cave"He muttered. They had arrived at prauge.
'Police reports indicate that the chaos of Empire City could have been averted if heavy budget cuts had not been implemented nearly a year before, the mayor's office has declined to comment on these aligations.
In other news, a car found abandoned on the route 93 just west of Boulder City in Nevada belonged to a Earl M Greening, a resident of Las Vegas, Police have indicated family members have been informed, but there is no sign of Mr Greening at this time Early reports suggest he may have abandoned the car and absconded due to outstanding alimony payments.'
...look back in silence, the cradle of your whole life...
The red corvette stingray flowed under the lights of Las Vegas as it swept down west flamingo road past Jones Plaza heading slowly east. Scarlett gazed out of the drivers window at the sparkle of lights and endless wandering mortals.
...there in the distance, loosing its greatest pride...
Nero glanced at her as he found the amount of colour and people around almost over stimulating. He could smell vibrant life in the air, and a heavy scent of corruption and sin. A perfect place for Vampires to hunt. Pausing he looked at the wallet of Earl Greening he held in his hands and stared at the strange plastic cards and other items within. This modern world was so alien to him, but at the same time, so wonderful.
...nothing is easy, nothing is sacred.. Why?...
"No wonder you like it so much here" he muttered staring at a group of women screaming and laughing as they walking along the side walk in tight fitting clothes.
His eyes glittered at the sight of the female form in such a decadent item of clothing, humanity had fallen a little since the last time he walked the night air.
"Is it always like this?"
...where did the bow break? it happened before your time...
Scarlett smiled as she pulled around a slowing car, she indicated as she crossed the lane and followed the outside lane towards a turning to the right.
"yes, and it only gets better in the small hours" she grinned wickedly at him from behind the sunglasses she had insisted on wearing once they reached the city limits.
...there where people there, lovely as you've ever cared. Tonight...
"I may like this town as well then." His eyes returning to the Humans lost to the city lights and excess that plagued them in these darker nights.
"Oh I have no doubt." She said as she spotted the Rain up ahead.
...Baby you can start again...
The stingray pulled right, crossing over the road coming the other way and glided into the parking lot of the Rain Nightclub, pulling around to the side, she found a empty space and parked. She looked up at the sign, it had been upgraded since her last visit. At least Mario was keeping pace with the rest of the strip.
...Laughing in the open air, have yourself another dream. Tonight...
"So this place is?" Nero asked as he stepped out of the car. A week of travel from Empire had adjusted his perception of the modern carriage and he was finding it easier to use every passing day.
...Maybe we can start again...
Scarlett turned and looked at him with a broad smile.
"Mine"
Nero smirked to himself at her confidence now she was back in this strange city, following the younger Vampire as she led him towards the main entrance and the group of men who seemed to be guarding the doors.
"Are you sure they will welcome you back with open arms?" Nero asked as they walked.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes as she carried on forward.
"Of course, I've always found a welcome here in the city of Sin."
..maybe we can start again...
...maybe we can start again...
...maybe...
The backhand smashed the cheekbone of Scarlett as she rolled over the large oak desk and crashed into an ornate 15th century suit of Romanian armour. a Pike slashed down and chinked the stone floor near her right leg as she scrambled to get to her feet. The vast figure was on her in seconds grabbing her by the hair and throwing her like a rag doll twenty feet into the far wall near a large bookcase with a crack of several ribs.
She cried out as she tried to stand but the shadow was upon her again, a meaty hand around her throat as it lifted her up like a trophy.
"Sasha, hold." came a voice to their right, it was a thick Romanian accent, unchanged after living with the beauty of splendour of Las Vegas and the greater United States for near on two hundred years.
Scarlett looked over to the Vampire in a plush pin stripped grey suit, she was bleeding from the lip, nose and her right ear, but ignored it, focusing only on Dimitry Alexandrescu, Prince of Las Vegas, a handsome dark haired man of eastern European noble stock. The brute of a Opriknikki grasping her throat stared at his master without a word or move, Scarlett didn't struggle, she was no match for the monster.
"Six months Elizabet, you have been in my city for six months, I let you back, let you return without a question, and now this."
She tried to speak, but all that came was a gasp from her pinned vocal cords. Dimitry motioned to Sasha and leant back against the desk, ignoring his scattered papers. Scarlett was released and fell three feet to the floor crumpling down onto her knees. She looked up and gazed at the large open room, it was in the heart of the Princes home, a mansion lost amongst the country clubs on the west side of the city.
"Not a act against you." she finally said while pulling at her throat.
His eyes darkened and he glared at her.
"Not an act against me, how else do you think I should read it? You are trying to find information about some ancient Kindred here Elizabet, ancient magic, some very dangerous stuff that makes me very nervous. When I get nervous."
The click of the fingers echoed in Scarlett's ears for a second before Sasha's kick flung her across the room and she smashed into the wall to the far left of the Prince. Sasha bounded across the room after her and yanked her back up and slammed her hard into the wall cracking a stone slab behind her. The Opriknikki's scarred features scowled with a hiss as he grlared nose to nose, and let her drop, sliding down the stones of the wall onto her rear with a groan of pain.
"Now you better explain yourself, or I will just tell Sasha to finish you right now!"
Scarlett looked up weakly, she had nothing left to say.
"That magic has already been used." Snapped a voice, as a figure strode into the room.
Dimitry met the gaze of the approaching Nero as an equal, noting the thick robe the Kindred always seemed to wear. Sasha stepped forward to assault the intruder eagerly but the Prince held up his hand and stared at the ancient Vampire before him.
"Ah the mentor." He mused.
"Do not step ahead of yourself Alexandrescu, I remember you in youth as a fledgling Vampir, you know I would not speak for her if she was not worth my words."
Dimitry paused, he looked towards Scarlett, then back to Nero, he knew this Kindred, it would be a bloody fight if he pushed forward with this, he pondered the options and growled.
"I respect you elder, so I will accept your council, but she is to stay in your care. That magic is highly risky, I dread to think what she used it for."
Nero glanced back toward Scarlett as she was helped to her feet by another figure in a hooded cloak.
"Not what you would expect Alexandrescu, not what you would expect."
The Prince looked slight bemused at the comment, and then waved them out of his chamber, turning back to his seat with a snarl of anger, before pausing.
"Up until now I have been most charitable in my dealings with young miss Crawley, that time may soon come to an end, I will discuss this matter with the council."
Nero paused for a moment, he had suspected the wind may blow this way once the news broke about the ritual. He made sure that Scarlett had been helped from the room, and then stepped to the door. Taking a long bow he raised himself and gave a respectful nod.
"As is your right Prince of Las Vegas, we will await judgement."
Dimitry didn't watch the ancient leave, he walked to the window and stared at the figures moving out of the main doors below a few moments later. He watched as Elizabeth was helped into the limo, and the strange hooded figure moved in beside her, then Nero headed out. The ancient pausing to look up to the window before getting in and the vehicle pulled away.
"Sasha, find Branislava, I need her to investigate something for me."
With a growl, the huge Opriknikki stalked from the room and left the Prince to his thoughts.
(I would like to present my intro, and also I would like to take this time and thank Silly for the awesome job he did on my character's pic, its fething nice! )
The fire crackled and sparked in the night air. all around the trees of the small glen whispered with their leaves as the wind blew gently through them. A gloved hand stoked the fire with a stick, sending sparks and embers wavering into the air above the flames. The hand retracted into the lab of a dark figure who sat, staring at the flames, alone in the glen. His hat shadowed his eyes and the shroud around his neck covered his mouth and nose, anyone who saw him from afar wouldn't be able to recognize him. Syd Harlow took the kebab next to him and propped over the flames. On it were several large chunks of bloody meat, his stomach growled at the sight of it, he was almost hungry enough to eat the thing raw, he had been lucky to find that wild pig out here in the forests of...
For a moment he forgot where he was, so hectic had the past few weeks of his miserable life been. He reminded himself he was in Europe, although internally he told himself it didn't matter where he was, they would find him, they always did...
Harlow looked up into the night sky, he could just see a large patch of it over the canopy of the trees around him. His eyes found the moon, that silver white orb that had been the measure of his life as a human for so long now. It was half visible in the inky evening sky where the stars showed brightly around it. Only a couple more weeks until the full moon, and with it, the curse. Harlow looked at his human hands in disgust, His own body, the only thing he had left was lost to him every time the moon became full, it was the most horrible thing Harlow could imagine, blurry images of raging, fur covered, maniac howling, claws, meat, and blood criss crossed his mind. He tried to batter them away and supress them, mostly because they were so gruesome to him but also because he knew there was a bestial side of his mind that relished in such things.
As the meat cooked on the flames , Harlow laid back, hugging the blanket around him tighter to ward off the cold night air, he could see his own breath it was so cold. He brought out a small nickel plated object and put it to his mouth, the sweet and sad notes of a harmonica seemed to roar in the silence of the woods. Harlow knew there was nobody this deep in these woods at this time of night, so he played on, this one activity being the only thing that brought him solace anymore. Next to him, leaning on its kickstand was his motorcycle, the only means of transportation left to him. He would need to fuel it up soon but not now. Tonight, he rested, he ate, and he waited. His eyes again sought the sky and the moon and this time, the memories flooded back more clearly...
He sat at the bar, his head and shoulders hunched over the small shot glass full of whiskey that sat in front of him. His mind was foggy from the five other shot glasses he had already downed and now he just sat in silence as he had when he had walked in an hour ago. The bar was empty except for him and the barkeeper who was busy cleaning the other side of the bar off with a white rag. The barkeeper noticed the duffel bag sittin on the stool next to Harlow and spoke for the first time since Harlow had walked in.
"Going somewhere?"
Harlow did nothing at first, then, after a few moments he looked briefly at his bag and then back at the shot glass
"I'm taking a plane to Europe tomorrow."
The barkeeper nodded and smiled.
"Vacation?"
Harlow raised his head and looked at the Barkeeper with a smirk
"I do need to get away from a few things if that's what your asking."
The barkeeper turned and grabbed a bottle of the whiskey that Harlow was drinking and poured himself a shot. he picked up the glass and raised it about a foot above the bar.
"To getting away." He said lowly.
"Amen." Harlow echoed and they both threw their glasses back and drank.
Outside, in the setting sun, the door of a vehicle was slammed shut. Harlow's countenance immediately darkened although the barkeeper didn't notice and went back to cleaning.
"Get behind something." Harlow said in a gruff voice without looking up from his empty glass
"What?" The barkeeper replied confused.
"Get down and stay down till its over." Harlow said again, not moving. The barkeeper's eyes darted from Harlow to the door and back again, finally, he ducked behind the bar and stayed there.
Footsteps could be heard crunching the gravel outside the door for a few moments. The door opened to reveal three men dressed in black and carrying automatic weapons. The group walked in and spread out, covering the front door, their eyes fixed on the only other visible occupant in the room who sat at the bar, still looking at his glass in front of him.
Awkward moments passed in silence until the leader of the group, a young man carrying a suppressed Mac-10, took a single step forward.
"Syd Harlow, your not and easy man to find." he said mockingly, like a child about to win a prize from a game booth at a fair.
It was at that moment that Harlow looked into the mirror in front of him at the rear of the bar, he saw in it the image of the assailants and smiled. He could tell just ny their attire and manner that they were not as he feared, hunters, just some gangster punks trying to get back at Harlow for stealing from their bosses. Easy meat.
"Your a long way from home kid, you should go back to New York, it'd save you a whole lot of trouble." Harlow shot, he saw in the mirror, the leader of the group's expression change from pleasure to disdain. He pointed his gun at Harlow, the others did the same.
"Nobody tells me what to do geezer, and nobody steals from us either." The punk shot back cockily.
"Turn around, and walk right back out that door, kid, and you just might live to see tomorrow." Harlow growled, his voice low and threatening.
That did it, without another word, the group opened fire, before their crazed lines of bullets could touch Harlow, however, he sprang to his feet and leapt over the bar, huddling behind it next to the barkeeper. Both of them covered their heads as the bullets sparked and chipped wood and glass onto their heads. The stream of fire eventually halted for a moment, Harlow reached into his pocket and threw several hundred dollar bills on the ground next to the speechless barkeeper.
"Whats this for?" He asked.
"This." Harlow said, pulling out a double barreled shotgun from his duster and pointing it at the single light above the bar that was one, the gun boomed and darkness covered the bar. nobody could see what was happening. The three gangsters stood fidgety in the gloom, waiting for something to come into visibility so they could shoot it. Another boom of gunfire echoed loudly in the wooden walls, aimed at the gangsters which forced them to duck. While they were taking cover, a figure dashed through the back door and was gone in a moment.
"He's running! Get to the truck we'll cut him off!" The leader yelled and his lackeys rushed out of the front with him, leaving the bewildered barkeeper in the darkness to ponder what the hell had just happened.
For Harlow, the rest of that sunset was spent weaving down country roads, deeper into the country on his motorcycle as the gangsters trailed him. Finally, after having lost him with the sky darkening and the moon rising, they found his motorcycle and cornered him in a small cemetery. The truck pulled up to it, and five goons came out, all with weapons, all looking for Harlow. It was dark now, they used flashlights to scan the area....
They found him standing on a platformed tomb, covered in a blanket, his clothes folded up next to him with his hat resting on it.
"Turn around donkey-cave!" The leader of the group commanded, each of the others aimed their weapons in the darkness. Harlow didn't respond, instead, he sighed and bowed his head.
"Did your boss tell you who he wanted you to kill?"
"Turn around or I'll shoot you right now!" The punk yelled impatiently, aiming his weapon.
"Of course not, he doesn't even know who he's trying to kill." Harlow said softly.
The sound of a wolf's howl somewhere in the distance of the woods echoed in the night air. Harlow's eyes lifted to the sky, he beheld the silver orb, full in the sky, and stared at it intently...
The change was swift and horrible, fur and fangs, muscle and sinew, the blanket fell away, the monster was unleashed, the snarling the howling, the slashing and the fury was unleashed. Blood boiled in Harlow's veins, rage unhindered poured from his eyes. Wrath and blood in equal amounts were savagely spilled in the darkness. Shots rang out, screams of terror, flashes of light and crunching of bone...Then, silence......
Three days later the bodies of five gangsters were found in the cemetery by authorities investigating the incident at the bar. Their remains were unidentifiable, blood had been pooled in one huge puddle, it looked as though some enraged animal had slaughtered and eaten them and there was practically nothing resembling human.
By that time Harlow was already in Europe, and hopefully for a time, he had gotten away.
The sun climbed the blue, and let its light shine over the frozen landscape. Ice cracked as water tried to fulfill their ancient struggle to reach the ocean. The light reached a gas station that has seen better days. Long icicles softly dripping onto the ground. On the parking lot stood a lone armored jeep. Snow heavily packed on its dense steel plates. A heap fell of as the front door opened, revealing Rachel jumping out the car. She fell on her knees an vomited on the ground. Her head trembled as she tried to contain the reflexes. Small chunks of digested food spilled over the virgin white. Rachel tried to get on her wobbly feet but failed as she emptied her stomach once again. It was like her own body revolted against her. After several minutes she finally got up, her head still dizzing.
She still felt the need to vomit, but there simply wasn’t anything left in her stomach. She crossed the parking lot into the gas station. A bell chirped, she growled as her head responded to the irritating sound. An old radio churning out “jailhouse rock” didn’t improved it one single bit. An old waitress appeared in front of her, the layers of makeup couldn’t hide her age. She sneered something in Russian towards her. Rachel didn’t know any Russian, but it was clear that the maid hated her. It wouldn’t surprise her if the waitress hated every single soul that stepped foot in here. Rachel passed her, ignoring her increased activity of flinging strange words at her. She stepped in the restroom and closed the door behind her.
Rachel saw her own image reflected in the mirror, small chunks of vomit clinging onto her vest, her hair seemingly defying gravity. It even came clear to her own fuzzy mind, why the waitress didn’t like her. She looked like a junkie. She pulled the vest of and tried to cleanse it, using water. She ignored the hard knocks on the door. After a long time she considered the vest to be purged of filth. Now it was her turn. She gazed once more in the mirror trying to find the dirty zones. She couldn’t help herself staring at her enlarged belly. Why did this happen? She asked herself while she softly caressed her tummy. She wasn’t meant to be….She couldn’t…..
Dez….
She tore her eyes from her belly and fixed it on her face. This was something she had control over. After a long time of fanatically cleansing her hair and face. She considered herself… less junkie like. At least now she could show herself again amongst people. She opened the door, the waitress stood there accompanied by a scrawny little man. His eyes burrowed in its sockets. She felt for the man having to work with the angry waitress who had never yelled stopping at her. The smell of coffee burned in her nostrils, she was hungry but she knew her stomach would resist. Instead she saw a chart laying on the counter.
She grabbed it pushing the aggressive waitress away. She quickly walked outside crossing the distance between her and the armored jeep. The waitress appeared out of the gas station. Yelling obscene curses that would make truck drivers blush. Rachel crawled back into the safety of her jeep. “Oh, I you just had suspension” she muttered at the jeep. She opened the chart and immediately her eye landed on Saint Petersburg.” Vegas…. “ The mighty engine roared to life, content that it could storm the highway once more. Leaving an old tattered waitress behind, who now vented her fury on the little scrummy guy.
Standing from 200 paces apart, so that neither of you can actually cause any significant damage to the other? So you just stand there awkwardly, reloading after every two shots, until, eventually, you run out of ammo. At this point, feeling you've got to know each other, Vegas is asked out to a bar by Syn, where you eventually, after a love based montage, get married, have kids, get on the floor, open a door, and do the dinosaur. Not necessarily in that order.
ghosty wrote:Standing from 200 paces apart, so that neither of you can actually cause any significant damage to the other? So you just stand there awkwardly, reloading after every two shots, until, eventually, you run out of ammo. At this point, feeling you've got to know each other, Vegas is asked out to a bar by Syn, where you eventually, after a love based montage, get married, have kids, get on the floor, open a door, and do the dinosaur. Not necessarily in that order.
But my immediate reaction is that I don't think that a hunter/supernatural entity relationship would work, too many professional boundaries being crossed.......
The sound of the Dukati was like a thunder clap in the empty streets of old town. The roar of the enormous engine, the whoosh of air by the homeless and the drug dealers. They were the dregs of society, those who make a living off of the misery or the charity of others. Old town is dark, dismal and horrific. Gunshots can be heard in the air as often as the screams of domestic abuse. Coke and meth are household names, as are Glock and Gat. Nothing is safe, almost every car is on blocks, and those that aren't are burned out. Everyone lives under the poverty line. Even the police are scared to come here, due to a crime rate that is higher than the population. 999 calls from here are ignored, if at all they come in. "Street Vigils" as they are called, rule this place. They keep the justice, but deliver it to the lowest bidder. The rich are safe from all crime, and the poor are framed.
Prague Old Town is a horrible place. But it is a haven, if you know where to look.
Storing the Dukati behind a dumpster to hide it, Musater walked up to his drug dealer, a man known as Chris R. He is the best drug dealer in Prague, always with the best stuff, for the best prices.
"Back for the missus, I see?" Chris asked. He was wearing a greasy wife beater, gun in the wasteband of his sweatpants.
"Yep."
"Same as always? Ha, I know. Let's see... this should be good."
Musater took the bag of Meth from Chris, storing it in his jacket pocket. Nodding to Chris, he pulled the bag of money from his other pocket and tossed it.
"Whatever you need, I got it, baby!"
Now that the prescription was filled, he needed to go get some dinner. Walking to 8th street, the most crime ridden shithole in the city, Musater slung his body bag over his shoulder. The sound of dogs barking and the sound of abuse was filling his ears. He picked the loudest building, a ratty apartment complex about 7 stories high. Using his unnaturally good hearing, he deduced that the 4th floor was the noisiest. Walking in, he jogged up the stairs, towards the 4th floor.
Once he got there, he realized all the noise was one family. The sounds of breaking, slapping, crying, and screaming were coming from room 4D. Using his lockpick, he broke in.
"Shut up, bitch!" The man told his wife, slapping her bruised and bloodied body to the floor. "Huh? What the feth do you want, huh? You want to fething mess with me?"
"Actually, yes." Musater turned to the woman. "Do you want me to kill your husband?"
"... What?" She was stunned, crying as the blood flowed out of her nose.
"I asked you a question. I will ask it only one more time. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Kill. Your. Husband."
The woman nodded, crying even harder now. Not out of fear and pain, but of joy.
"I will ask you to leave the room. I will call you when the deed is-"
The husband swung. Musater caught his fist and squeezed, breaking the man's head. Throwing him to the ground, he stomped on his head a few times.
"I will ask you again. Please leave."
The woman ran into the bedroom. There was a lot of blood on the mattress.
"Do your wife love you?" Musater asked, while taking out his machete.
"That stupid bitch? Of course not?"
"The you shall die an unloved man."
The machete cut clean through his neck, only slightly pausing at the spine, before severing it. Hacking up the rest of the limbs, Musater got the bleach from the bag and began to pour.
"You can come out." Called Musater to the woman as he was placing his limbs into the bag.
The woman nervously walked in, nearly passing out from the smell of the bleach.
"Your husband died in a gang war. They will only find his head. Understand?"
She nodded.
"Good. Now you owe me one favor. I will call upon you soon for this favor. Understand?
Once again, she nodded
"Excellent. Goodbye."
Musater left with the groceries slung over his shoulder.
Thanks mate. I'm trying to make Musater an ass to those who are not friends with him, or are Humanii, but a charmer to fellow Lycan and his inner circle.
"Yes Artyom, we ARE staying in old town, I forgot to pick up enough money for a Decent hotel. DOn't worry the motels here are cheap, I will get dad to send Persat down here with more bullets, and money." Dimitri explained to his younger brother." Fine, I'll stay at the motel and watch a movie or two, what again are you doing?" Artyom asked. "Im going shopping, then I'll pick up dinner from one of the McDonalds or whatever cheap fast food we can get here." Artyom sighed after hearing Dimitri say that. "Fine. Im going to sit down with our weapons and clean them." "Nope, Im taking my glock." Dimitri demanded"These are rough neighborhoods, im taking my pistol."
Dimitri headed to an apartment the letter told him he would need to go."A-5 A-6 A-7 Ahhh here it is A-8" Dimitri muttered. The letter told him to kick down the door and shoot the inhabitants. He took a deep breath." Who the F*CK are you!" Somebody screamed out from behind the door. Supposedly the man helped wolves and other Undesirables eat, or he would get them money. If dimitri did this the group would except both Dimitri or Artyom, because frankly Artyom was one of the best shots in Russia. Now was this true. Maybe? He was definantly in the top 10 or 15. Dimitri, well he wasn't in any of his baby brothers heroic storys, but he was related and had Balls, so they gave him a chance. He shot through the door three times and was satisfied with a heavy 'THUD' now to go do his errands.
"McDonalds.Man they are on every fething coner." Dimitri thought walking back to the motel with two papaer grocerie bags and a plastic bag with dinner. He had all of the bags in or under his left arm. He had his Glock in his coat pocket, easily accesible."Gimme your money you ugly bit**" A man called out pulling a switch." GodDam**t I can see the hotel and I have to shoot a guy. Eh oh well." He said shooting the man in a swift movement." Im supposed to be saving these people, such a shame" Dimitri thought with a deep sigh.
@Mordo: I was thinking of Ghoul, but I wanted to continue in familiar territory. And anyway, I'm basing Musater off of Patrick Bateman and V, meaning he will kill you, but only for a reason.
Cory Hertz had found Prague to his liking, despite the initial sense of foreboding. He had done fairly well for himself in the past few weeks, working as a stock trader in profitable, if somewhat horrid, city. To top it all off, he had met the girl of his dreams, a gorgeous brunette named Jamie, who he had met at a cafe two weeks ago. When their eyes had met, well, Cory had known it was love at first sight. The had met every day since their initial contact, spending many happy hours talking about everything and nothing, he cold never quite recall what had been said, it only mattered that he said it to her. Finally, she had invited him to her home, several miles outside of Prague. He had drove there that night, finally along a dirt path that led deep into the warped trees of the wilderness. As the dwelling rose out in front of him, his bowels gave way, and his eyes rolled wildly as his teeth severed his tongue, such was the extent of his horror. Releasing his seat belt, Cory pushed open the car door, vomiting blood and half-formed organs onto the ground. The malformed things he had birthed from his maw mewled and gurgled, rolling about in the unclean soil as they died for lack of functioning organs. Slowly, he looked up, screaming once more as his eyes brushed the image of a construct that could not, should not, exist outside of the realm of deluded nightmares. The angles were all wrong, hexagonal pyramids mating with tesseracts, spheres blending with un-polyhedra. Cory's mind snapped, his eyes clawed from their sockets by frenetic fingers, tearing his face to a bloody ruin. Yet he could still ear, and the sounds, oh the sounds were near as terrible as the sights. Gibbering laughter and shrieks of pain assailed his ears, forcing him into a fetal position, rocking himself back and forth as he cried. Then the worst sound of all cut through his madness like an expertly wielded scalpel upon yielding flesh. "Oh, Cory. I'm sorry, oh so sorry..."
TheWildHost wrote:Is that Baboushca Baba yagas house? I think I read about her in like fith grade
Close, that would be the house of Black Anise, essentially the Brit version of Baba Yaga, I didn't want to use the old Russian hag for fear of being cliche'.
After eating Artyoms curiosity raged" No way it took you an hour to pick up" He began to look through the bag " 2 Movies, toothpaste, vodka(He said this with a giddy smile) candy bars(They enjoyed to eat them while on missions to replace ciggaretes) Smokes, a lighter, a book, and some bleach and cleaning supplies" Artyom asked. Dimitri responded" And pick up dinner" Artyom knew he was holding back." What did the letter say" Artyom asked. Dimitri couldn't lie any longer."An unnamed associate asked me to come down here with you. He said I could stay if I killed a sympathyzer." He said looking embaresed."You could have said that, I am fine with that" Artyom said."So where do we go now?"Artyom wondered."He will come and find us, I sent him a message on his phone and told us we are here"" Cool"
Berserksteve wrote:Hay, I'm just wondering when things will get started because it seems most peoples posts are very self contained.
In general I encourage every PC to simply RP, I will be weaving in bits of story here and there to create various situations in which PCs will begin to interact with one another, plus I'll be creating "events" as the story progresses.
"Think you'll be safe here?" Andy asked Wendy who was busy rubbing her feet on a bed.
"Don't know about safe, but comfortable as hell, yes." Wendy felt the comforter of the bed with her free hand, "The Network actually paid for all this?"
"Yes, the Network paid for it all." Miranda answered as she clicked the door shut, "They plan to set up a tech center in the penthouse, its all just a matter of time now."
"A tech center in a five star hotel?" Andy whistled, "Geeze aren't these guys lucky. We had a dumpy farm."
"Its a bit pricey, but no one questions people bringing computers and security equipment to a nice hotel." Miranda rubbed her eyes, weary from the drive.
"I guess that's true." Andy fought off a yawn, "I guess we should sleep or something you know, long drive and all."
"I'm actually not tired." Wendy replied, "Just stiff from sitting in a car for that long."
"That's because you were sleeping whenever you weren't being sick." Andy said as he sat down on the bed next to Wendy.
"Any others joining us anytime soon?" Wendy asked Miranda as Andy laid back and put his hat over his face.
"Smalls was supposed to meet us here, but he was called somewhere else." Miranda yawned, "Something about a sniper being relatively no good in a dense forest."
Miranda kicked off her boots and went to the other bed to lay down. Andy saw her through the small gap between his face and his hat and sat upright.
"Wait, you're staying in the same room?" he asked surprised.
Miranda nodded, "Yes so don't do anything too loud."
"I knew there was going to be some kind of catch to this thing." Andy grumbled as he returned to his previous position.
"Be quiet and go to sleep Andy." Wendy joked as she got up to use the restroom.
"Hey Wendy?" Andy said, his eyes covered.
"Yeah?" she was almost at the bathroom door, the smell of potpourri filled the air.
"Don't leave the room please, don't want anything to happen to you." Andy said sleepily.
"Don't worry, I won't." Wendy replied as she closed the door.
.....................
Snoring filled the room as Miranda opened her eyes, Wendy was sitting on the balcony holding something. As Miranda lifted herself up onto an elbow she could see that it was a small book bound in leather. She got up and glared at Andy who's face was half buried in the pillow, a curse left her lips.
Miranda sauntered over to Wendy, still wiping the sleep from her eyes. Humming could barely be heard over the snoring and Miranda could see inner-earphones in Wendy's ears, a black cable snaked away from her neck and to a MP3 player.
"What you got there?" Miranda asked while taking the adjacent reclining deck chair.
"Oh, Miranda..." Wendy put the book down with one hand and pulled out the earphone in her left ear, "what was that?"
"I said what are you reading?" Miranda repeated.
"Oh, its a bible, can you believe it?" Wendy showed the cover to Miranda, "I guess even the best hotels aren't free from people who leave them in the drawers."
"Is there something wrong with leaving bibles?" Miranda felt a breeze coming from the south and the sounds of traffic were audible from the balcony.
"Nothing wrong with it I guess." Wendy shrugged, "Never hurts to stack the deck in our favor with some faith."
"I agree." Miranda smiled, "Of course sleep helps too."
"You mean his snoring right?" Wendy smiled as well.
"How do you put up with it?" Miranda asked, "He could wake the dead."
"I grew up next to a train station." Wendy replied, "That's a lot worse than his snoring believe it or not."
A quick moment of silence allowed them to feel the air continuously blow over them and into the room. If they weren't there on assignment it would've been a good place for a vacation.
"There's a bakery down the street that make some really good cakes." Wendy mentioned, Miranda slowly shifted her vision to look at Wendy.
"Cravings?" Miranda asked.
"You can say that, I just want something sweet." Wendy shrugged.
Miranda thought about the idea, "Okay, leave a note for Andy in case he wakes up and we'll head down there."
.........................
Andy awoke and didn't see anybody around him. "Wendy?" he called out, "Miranda?"
Andy felt his heart sink and his pulse quicken as he looked around and saw nobody in the room and didn't hear anybody respond.
"feth!" he said as he quickly put on his shoes and grabbed a weapon from their luggage. He quickly ran to the door and fumbled with the handle, it swung open and a grunt followed by a thud as Andy hit his head on the jammed door.
"What the hell!" he heard Wendy say, he saw her trying to help Miranda up. Miranda's feet tried to get a grip as she rubbed her forhead.
"Where he hell were you guys?" Andy said as he grabbed Miranda's hand and helped her up.
"We went to the bakery, didn't you read the note?" Wendy said and wrapped an arm around Miranda's shoulder.
"Note? What note?" Andy stepped back blinked.
"The one on the back of the door pendejo." Miranda said angrily, "Damn that hurt."
Andy quickly reached behind the door and felt a piece of paper and pulled it.
"Andy, Miranda and I went down to the bakery to get some things. We'll be back in half an hour." the note read in Wendy's handwriting.
Miranda and Wendy went into the room as Andy stood and read the short note again, he felt stupid for not seeing it. Miranda glared again at Andy as they passed, "Get the bag Andy." Wendy ordered as she sat Miranda down at the dinette table and looked at her forhead, a large bump had already formed where the door hit her and there was some bleeding from where the skin had broke.
A tan and brown bag sat in the hallway with a white box in it, Andy picked it up and brought it in to set it on the dinette.
"Sorry Miranda." Andy looked at the ice bag Miranda was now holding to her head. Miranda just shook her head and sneered. "I thought something might have happened and I reacted and I didn't see the note and I charged out the door."
"Whatever." Miranda muttered, "Try to do something nice for your wife and you hit me with a damn door."
"I said I was..." Andy said before Miranda shot her other hand into the air and displayed her palm, motioning him to shut up.
In a dimly lit hotel room just inside the borders of Prague,a shadowy figure reached for an old telephone, dailed and waited as the phone began to ring...
After a moment the figure spoke " I have information for Lord Pontius" the figure whispered " Information I'm certian he'll be eager to hear"
The figure paused for a moment and continued " It has come to my knowledge that several groups of Hunters have been dispatched to investigate the events that have occurred in and around Prague."
Again the figure paused,listening to the voice at the end of the line.
" Two from a local family of Hunters.." The figure replied " Others as well...But...what I know Pontius will be anxious to hear is that Katz has contacted Bruss and that b**** Miranda as well, they are in Prague now.."
The figure was silent,listening intently ..." No..no word on her yet...but where Bruss turns up...she will surely follow.."
Again the figure sat listening then spoke again " I understand perfectly.."
The phone was replaced in it's cradle and the figure rose and crossed the dim room...
Several moments later the shadow begin to unpack various weapons...slowly removing a silencer from a battered suitcase.
...As night fell over the village of Hluboká Dřevo, a sleek black Mercedes sped through the darkness, the vehicle stopped before the high iron gates of a large secluded home,waiting as the fences parted and then slowly moved up the paved driveway.
The vehicle came to a halt near the front of the mansion,and several large and fierce looking individuals stepped out, quickly the guards outside the mansion permited them entrance inside the structure, and the group walked rapidly down the long hallway towards the rear of the home.
Natasha sat at a large wooden table, Lukos seated near her, fine china plates containing gory slabs of flesh set before them...Lukos glanced up from his meal as the group entered the large dinning room..
" Forgive the interuption my Queen" the leader of the group,a tall broad man,said bowing.
Natasha smiled and slowly wiped a drop of blood from her lips..." I expected you sooner Jarin...but no matter...please speak"
The huge man bowed again and addressed his Queen " I have been contacted by our operatives in America my Queen...thus far there is no information on he that you seek."
Natasha frowned.." Have our scouts at the airports seen nothing ?"
" Not of the one you want Mistress." Jarin replied " Though they have informed me of the depature or several Lycans from the U.S to points in Europe.."
Natasha's frown grew deeper " Of what clans..?"
Jarin spoke quickly " Two Lycaelon my Queen...the others.." the huge man shrugged.
" Nrajah.." Natasha spat..."Filth"
The huge man nodded " Most likely my Queen."
Natasha sat staring at the man..
" There is more my Queen...we also know that several of the Humans from the Hunter Network have been dispatched to the area.." Jarin said.
Natasha eyes blazed, her voice rising " They come for the Pure Blood.?"
Jarin shook his head " We don't know my Queen...we only know they are near.."
" I want them dealt with Jarin...the Humans and the Nrajah...now that the Pure Blood has come... we must not allow anyone to harm him." Natasha said slowly.
" I understand my Queen" The huge man said bowing.
The big man turned to leave when Natasha spoke once again..." ...And Jarin...find the Pure Bloods sire...I want him."
" Yes my Queen" Jarin replied bowing again before exiting with his men.
Lukos fixed his gaze upon Natasha, he thought for a moment then spoke " Do you really believe he will come here?...after all...he is in America, he has no reason to.."
" I want him found Lukos" Natasha said cutting the man off...a small smile parting her lips " I have my reasons."
Lukos simply nodded and returned to his meal.
Ok,with those two small write ups I've (hopefully) set in motion the works for some upcoming player events...
you guys feel free to use the info provided to direct your RP's if you wish...but keep in mind, the identity of the "figure" in the hotel room won't be revealed until later in the RP.
But she isn't a network hunter, never went to Europe..... How can i possibly wrote you a letter asking you to go to prague, if i she doesn't know you... Killing a associate to werewolfs...so you may ... stay?
I'm sorry but i can't see a clear reason why my char would send you a letter.....
@Fitzz
Mysterious stranger.... connections with Pontius..... Weapons...
Intresting __________
question how's the weather in Prague... Snowy, Windy,...?
Stepping off the plane Suzie stopped to look at the beautiful landscape, behind her Vukojevic hauled out their duffel bag and ground crewmembers began unloading their bikes. (Suz)"We really have to move fast no that we are here. Apperntly our contact is an impatient man." Grabbing their bikes Suzie thrust a fistful of bills at them. then they went roaring off down the runway and out onto the highway.
2 Hours later they arrived at the Grand Hotel Bohemmia. Laving the bikes in an alleyway nearby they walked into the Grand Foyer. Suzie stopped at the recenption; (Suz)"I need to book 3 single rooms for an indefinate period" (recp)"I check with manager" The receptionist replied in broken english, Suzie thrust a platinium coloured credit card at the receptionist. (Recp)"In this case OK" After a few minutes (Recp)"You have rooms 324,325 and 326, the elvator is over there, enjoy your stay." (Suz)"thanks"
Once in the elevator Suzie handed out their keys 325 for her 324 for Isaac snd 326 for Vuko. (Suz)"Once we arrive i'm hitting the shower, ISaac can you arrange our meeting please?" (Is)"Sure thing Suzie" (Vuko)"Hey ahve seen the rooms here? They are fething huge" (Suz)"Yes it is a 5* hotel after all. We also need clothes as well"
2 Hours Later
(Is)"Right guys we have a meeting in half an hour at a Pub called the Lion's Claw. Lets leave the rifles here but we should take our sidearms just in case." (Vuko)"Whats the guys name?" (Suz)"Viktor Tout, he also has a right hand man called 'Dirty Doug' or something like that"
Half an hour later
(vt)"Well hello people, we are gathered here today to try and reach an agreement." (Suz)"Lets cut to the chase, we need to open a supply oine from here to Empire City. Do you have any goods worth anything? (vt)"When th USSR colapsed they left not just a power vacumn but huge stockpiles of weaponary that the newly formed governments just didn't have uses for. So in short wehave lots of goods" (Suz)"We need to start shipping weapons in straight away can you manage that?" (vt)"I have been doing this for 20 years,I think I can manage little girly." (Is)"How much will this cost us?" (vt)"full of questions aren't you? 50,000 Kr,- as an inticmen and then 30,000 Kr,- for each delivery afterwards unless you want a special delivery which will cost you upwards of 60,000 Kr,-" (Vuko)"whats in each shipment?" (vt)"some Aks and some Berrettas, a few Vz.s and if I am felling nice I might throw in something heavier" (suz)"Alright where do we sign?" (vt)"Bring the 30 grand in an hours time, and my associate here likes to settle deals in an..... unusual way, he does like the look of you friend over there" Viktor pointed straight at Isaac, (is)"What, he WHAT? No way, no fething way" (vuko)"Man up ISaac come on we really need this and if you don't this all falls through." (is)"I'm not doing nything like that!"
Saint Petersburg. Dawn. Ryan walked calmly through the streets, his body itching with anticipation. Above, the sky was threatening snow, and people were bustling through the streets, trying to get back to their warm homes before the snow hit. Ryan mused to himself how in another life, he too, could have had such insignificant worries. A regular life, regular issues. But to Ryan, he had never experienced that lifestyle, it had been taken away from him as a child. He had experienced regret once, soon after he had killed his first. But now, now it was different. Ryan never looked down on humanity, much as other supernatural creatures did. All he felt was the vast distance between them. A huge void between humankind, and himself. Ryan shrugged off such gloomy thoughts, and recalled his reasoning for being here. It had taken long enough to track down whom he was searching for, and finding out where she even lived had taken Ryan a serious amount of legwork, especially upon the more seclusive of the supernatural kind. Idly, Ryan fingered a recent addition to his necklace collection, an old hags withered fang. She had been surprisingly resilient.
He was going nowhere. Ryan had paced up and down the same street, looking for the building for the last hour, and he had yet to find it. He had even started asking passers by, but most couldn't even speak broken English, and so Ryan had eventually settled down, his back against the wall of a nearby building, and sulked. Snow began to fall down from above, increasing in its magnitude, until a full force blizzard was throwing itself against the city. And through it all, Ryan sat unmoving, the only audible change noticed was a slight, but definitely noticeable lengthening of hair across his body. Eventually the snow abated, and the city street was encased in thick snow. A mound lying against the wall of a large and imposing building suddenly erupted upwards, And a frost covered Ryan staggered out.
"Oh Jesus! Oh feth me!" Ryan howled, plunging his hands down his trousers, desperate to warm his nether regions that had been so cruelly made chilly. He proceeded to hop around for several seconds, until he became acutely aware that someone was standing beside him. Ryan turned slowly, sending a cascade of snow from his ragged hair, to look down upon a young child, staring up at him defiantly, a frown set upon his face. "What's the matter, kid, never played with your balls before? Stupid question." Ryan said, noticing how young the boy was.
"She's been waiting for you, for over an hour."
"Has she now?" Ryan said, stroking his stubble. The boy motioned for him to follow, and they, together entered into a massive building, that Ryans eyes had previously refused to acknowledge existed.
The massive jeep crawled trough the tiny streets of Saint Petersburg. There was a lot of road rage as drivers yelled at the armored jeep. Inside Rachel ignored the short tempered drivers as she calmy crept further, listening to some Russian rock music. It wasn’t bad, the riffs were great, but if only she could understand the bloody language. It would make the search go a lot faster. She looked outside the window and noticed a street sign, with those weird squiggles on them, but the pictogram next to it made it clear.
She followed the signs until she reached the magnificent library of Saint Petersburg. The drivers following her sighed relieved as she crept onto the parking lot. Rachel jumped out of the armored jeep, she noticed a lot of attention as pedestrians gazed at the girl and the jeep. Maybe stealing an armored jeep from Miranda wasn’t her brightest idea after all. But nothing she could do about it, she thought while she climbed the steps to the library. The library was magnificent, thousands upon thousands of books appeared before her eyes. The silence was almost deafening, slowly after absorbing the view she walked to the counter. A young librarian whit sparkling eyes looked up to her. “Доброе утро, как я могу вам помочь?” Rachel just smiled at the librarian, and spend five minutes trying to find out where the computers where. The librarian answered “Полностью за справа.” She saw Rachel’s puzzled face and gestured her to follow. After walking through a maze of books, they had arrived. Rachel thanked the librarian and grabbed the computer closest to her.
After fervently scouring the internet and finding appropriate translators, she found something. An old woman burned to dead…. Only ashes remains… This was too much of a coincidence, after searching the name of the burned woman she found a blog written by her. 2002…. There was one entry from 2002. Rachel sighed but still clicked on it. The computer showed her a map of the world, slowly zooming onto the region around the city. A small red dot blinked next to a small lake called Mednyy Zavod. The map then jumped to Las Vegas and returned back to the lake. Constantly jumping between locations. “Vegas….what did you get yourself in?” She wondered.
____________________________________________
Vegas looked at the icy cold water of Medneyy Zavod. The only living things were stubborn grasses, who suffocated beneath a layer of snow. If she had calculated it correctly, this was the spot. She clenched the stick in her hands. Over the past few days she had read through the “Malles Malefacorum.” She was still unsure to proceed with this. She heared Alexander softly cringing in the back of the Toyota. In the past few days, he’d never shown any sign of life. He was little more than a breathing puppet…. A living puppet.
“I had to do it,…. “
The Oracle was right, she could never had done this on her own. She knew it, and helped. Vegas felt the need to cry. She had no more tears left.
“…. For you Vegas.”
Vegas shook the thoughts out of her brain. She had to continue, this had to be done before the sun fell down. She swirled the stick around and began to carve the Pentagram into the snow. Sweat dripped from her scarred face as she completed the ritual. Four Pentagrams one dedicated to each element of the world. Earth….Wind….Fire…..Aether. Now came the crucial part, connecting the Pentagrams into a Th’rlvek. Creating the bridge between worlds. The sun began to descend when Vegas finished. She looked at the Th’rvlek, the symbol repulsed her for unknown reasons. It seemed as even the earth itself was repulsed with the vile symbol scratched into its flesh.
Vegas returned to the car and pulled the catatonic boy from the backseat. The days hadn’t been kind to him, It looked like death was claiming him bit by bit. She carried Alexander into the middle of the Th’rvlek, carefully placing her feet avoiding the lines. It felt like no good would come from it if she accidently stepped onto it. Arrived in the middle she went down on her knees laying the dormant boy in front of her. Right in the Nexus of the Th’rvlek. She threw the overcoat of her back and stropped her sleeves up. The cold bit in her unprotected flesh. She pulled a silver blade out and waited until the sun came down. As she waited a mist crept over the icy lake. Slowly but surely it began to consume the entire valley.
The sun was gone, Vegas stood in the shimmer light the silver blade pressing against theboys throat. Softly she pulled the blade through it’s neck. Alexander gurgled as blood dripped down his air pipe. Vegas laid her tainted blade into the virgin white. Softly she dipped her hand in the gleaming crimson and started to draw symbols on her right arm. The fog gathered around the Th’rvlek, almost as it enjoyed the spectacle. A black form started to appear out of the fog. Vegas gazed at the encroaching figure, slowly pushing its boat through the icy water. Vegas laid the body of Alexander back into the nexus and slowly walked into the cold lake. The shadow reached out to her. Its flesh since long missing. Vegas accepted its hand, and gradually it pulled her out of the calm water. She set foot on the small wooden vessel and watched the valley disappear as the dark figure sailed her deeper in the shade.
Slowly the vessel plowed its way through the mirky white until the fog was gone. The small craft was gliding through a see of white. Vegas couldn't even see the horizon,... land ... sky ... stars... had no meaning in this endles white. The boat grinded to a halt. The shadowy man gestured her to step out. Vegas looked at the white fluid the vessel was sailing on. Gently she touched it ... it was solid. She stepped out of the boat, her feet didn't made any sound as she walked over the white. She looked at the dark sailor who had turned around, softly gliding trough the white as if it didn't existed. Where was she? What was this place. She looked around seeing nothing. What was she ment to do here? she rubbed over her shoulder, the symbols she had painted on her arm were still there. But the blood was gone, it looked as it was burned into her skin. Not knowing what to do she started walking down the endless white.
Minuntes turned into hours, hours into days, days into months. Vegas lost all sense of time, hunger, sleep as she traversed the whiteness. Her own toughts fluttered and died as she put one feet after another. Sound became a distant memory, even memories flew away on a non existing breeze. She was just like her enviroment, blank removed of life.
The only thing burning was her soul, it kept pushing her forwards towards the brink. Refusing to back down.
I'll be there when your heart stops beating...
Her mind spun back to life after an eternity of nothingness ... she heard something.
Vegas head lifted itself trying to find a source, she saw a white apple tree.
.... i'll be there when you're lasth breath is taken away....
She started walking towards the apple tree, it was a long time since she had seen... something.
.... In the dark when there's no one listening...
She reached the apple tree and looked around. There was no one here. She looked up into the apple tree. Two young girls dressed in old victorian robes were sitting on its braches softly singing.
One of them had blue hair.
.... In the time that we both get carried away. ___________________________________________
some mood music
I need to address something very quickly to hopefully avoid any future confusion.
If any PC wishes to includes a fellow PC in their RPs (either in referance or in actual contact), please PM the user and sort out the details before posting...
I've no problem with "...And the Bill got a phone call from Ted saying meet me at the cafe." post...but let's make sure "Bill" and "Ted" are on the same page and everyone knows what's going on.
@ Silly...Rainy and cold,some snow.( Does it snow in March in Prague?)
@ Kais...It wasn't you and yours that Jarin was speaking about to Natasha.
@ Larkin..good stuff,but please indicate who is saying what to whom.
@ ghosty...that hag tooth addition to your necklace wouldn't happen to be Margo's would it?
Hlaine Larkin mk2 wrote:it is rare that there is snow in Scotland in March and we have much worst weather than in prague(Last time i was there in March it was 17+C)
Hmm, Well...considering this RP takes place (Game Time wise) 6 months after the events in the first RP then it would be March, perhaps Prague is just experiencing some odd weather.
Sven was getting tired. His body was resting up against his motorcycle as it was being filled with gasoline. He has several packs of snacks wrapped in colorful packets and a coffee, the packets could have been ten years old and he wouldn’t be about to tell. Sven liked to eat healthy food nor did he like coffee but he needed something that will just keep him awake. It was a strange feeling because most nights he struggles to get to sleep. This is truly the worst his mind has ever been, he was afraid to fall asleep but he couldn't find anywhere safe. Maybe he could turn back, there was probably nothing here. This is the kind of place that would think a woman was a witch because she wore her skirt too low, nothing to hunt. he thought.
Sven sighed and sat down in the lotus position. He then put his mind into a trance. He needed to put his mind at ease if he was going to survive he could tell, he knew this was going to be the worse he was going to face, he had to stay here. He sucked in a few deep breaths before he started to feel wetness on his butt. He turned to see gasoline leaking out of his motorcycle from the gas pump “Damn damn damn damn!!” He pulled it out and turned it off “This place is evil.”
“So, what do you think about it?” Dominic asked, interested. He was a fairly large man, very strong and had a neat beard, and short hair.
“I think it is good that we are getting the chance to go out in real action. For some reason, these 6 months I have been here have been for training purposes, and now we are going to be able to prove ourselves,” answered Dez seriously.
“I have been here for an entire year and I haven’t been out once to face any Vamps or Wolves.”
“I don’t know. Maybe he just wants us to be ready or something,” Dez said, as the two of them walked over to the firing range, and pulled out their pistols, for Dez, he took out his M9, leaving his Desert Eagle in the other holster. For Dominic, he took out a 44. Magnum. “He wouldn’t want us to rush into a battle when we are not ready and get ourselves killed,” he said, firing his M9 and getting a headshot on the cardboard dummy.
“I suppose that is true, but you can’t help but feel that he is holding you back for that time, ya know what I mean?”
“True.”
There was a long pause, apart from the gunfire, before Dominic spoke.
“What about Kes?”
“What about Kes?”
“Well, isn’t it obvious? You could go with her easily, yet you hold back. She has been flirting with you ever since you came here. She is perfectly within your grasp yet you don’t take her. And she is pretty fit!”
“I do not care for her flirting. I do not wish to be with her.”
“And why exactly is that. You have never told me.”
“And I do not wish to.”
“Aw, c’mon. We are mates. You know you can tell me!”
Dez sighed, and there was silence for a moment, apart from the occasional firing of a pistol ringing on the firing range.
“Before I came here, I was Hunter and had been stationed in Empire City.”
“Dez, you know you have already told me that?”
“I know,” Dez replied quietly. “I went with my Uncle and a girl called Rachel, who I loved, and still love, dearly. My Uncle died as you know, but Rachel is still alive I presume. She thinks I am dead, and I will not betray her by being with another woman. I owe her that.”
“But come on Dez, you have got to move on, you will never see her again! And Kes loves you!”
“I know, but that will make no difference.”
Dominic shook his head, and brought his Magnum down to holster it. “You still have nightmares about it, don’t you?”
“I d-“
“We’re leaving,” said Carl, walking in suddenly, and speaking to both of them. “Our plane leaves in 30 minutes. It’s time to go.”
“Well,” said Dominic, as Dez holstered his Desert Eagle and began to follow him and Carl. “I suppose it is time to go fight the other monsters.”
Sorry for being late... some really impressive RP so far and a lot to live upto. Brillant stuff going on guys. *note to self... hide from all the Hunters*
Player:- Aurelia
Character- Erzuli
Race/Clan- Werewolf/Mgral
Physical Description- Fairly tall (5'9"/175cm), curved figure, her dark brown skin is marked with scarification and tattoos, especially on her face and chest. Her hair is in locks and long past her shoulders. She has chosen to wear a more modern style of clothing in recent years and mostly chooses to wear loose-fitting trousers and tops with heavy boots; she also has a long, hooded, brown coat.
Equipment- African style dagger, shoulder bag: mortar and pestle, several small pouches, snuff box (containing a willow bark paste), well used notebook and set of calligraphy pens/ink.
Backstory- That Erzuli even survived her childhood is quite something: a crazed mother, absent father and a life that began as all but a slave to the woman who found her in the gutter aged 6. Things were different back then; smoke plumes still hung over the city of New Orleans, candles and lamps gave the only light after dark in crowded homes and the Voodoo queens were not yet a tourist attraction. Erzuli grew up learning all she could from her 'saviour', Anamaria and wondering just how genuine this self-styled witch was as she combined religion with magic. Anamaria tried to prevent the youthful, silver-tongued teenager from being a threat to her power by first marking her with scars; then when it failed to work, gradually poisoning her charge with aconite. When the final dose came Erzuli was left writhing on a bed in angry agony. As her murderous carer watched her dying, Erzuli's world fell into a haze of blood and she discovered what it meant to be a werewolf. Taking up Anamaria's possesions and shop as her own, Erzuli tried to hide what had happened with some confusion over her new hunger and lack of remorse.
As time passed, she quickly learnt that people would much rather deal with an attractive young 'priestess' than the old witch that had been as much feared as revered. Erzuli's doubts soon vanished and she threw herself into this new position of power she found herself in. As the years went on and she found herself aging less and less, she was forced to move to the edge of the city to avoid the questions. Just as the world entered its first great war she was found by Vilem Novak, who introduced her to the society of her birth. Having spent most of her life alone Erzuli was reluctant to throw herself into a new position where once again she would be at the bottom of the heap. She chose instead to simply aid her new-found 'family' at a distance she chose. Being feared and respected by the humans was just far too much for her to simply give up.
By the era of the internet, Erzuli found herself disatisfied with her life: she had turned from priestess to something of an amusing, if dangerous, joke on the edge of human society. Only the old or superstitous paid her any dues and the young were more interested in gadgets than spirits. Vilem took the opportunity to bring her further into the fold and she accompanied his pack from time to time on their trips out of state. Yet again the feeling of being below others surfaced and she began to decline the invitations. She started to focus on a new facination with the effects of herbs on the supernatural. Her experimentation led to the creation/destruction of a few of her own kind, plus other, weak induviduals; something she managed to keep very quiet by obtaining a quiet home for herself to the south-west of the city.
Location/resources- Small complex of buildings SW of New Orleans
Virtue/Merit- Animal Magnetism; she has always found it fairly easy to talk people into doing things.
Vice- Envy: no, you do not deserve anything more than she has!
(suz)We really have to move out of here soon, we are begining to attract attention, especially you Isaac, some of those maids really seem to hate you.
(Is) Really, what gave you that impression? Oh nothing really. Anyway my point still stands
I say in the papers that there was a Pub for sale, it was called 'U Babických', it also ahs 2 flats above it.
Sounds good, how much?
err.... here it is, Offers over 21,000 Kr,- or monthly lease of 725Kr,-
we should just offer it, leasing is so much more expenisve.
10 Days Later
So you want to buy my Pub, vhy should I sell it to you, huh?
Pushing a brown envelope across the table,
We can pay cash, that means no selling fees, more cash in your pocket which you have instant access to and we can bid higher than anyone else.
Well it is inticing, tell you vhat, you can have the keys now and in three months I collect the rest of the money, iz zhat Ok with you?
Sure thing
2 hours later
He was quite tasty
yea he was quite good, most of been the fat on him
His blood was pretty much just alcohol, i had to have 2 black coffees aftetrwards.
So when do we open this place?
3 days, I also left a sign in the window, and we can convert the back room to further our needs.
Would it conflict with the storyline if Ryan were to rough Margo up 6 months before 'present time' ?
Don't see how it would have been posiable six months prior to the current events...Margo rarely,if ever, left Star's side since Natasha and the others arived in Prague.
Margo was already in Europe the whole time prior to they're arrival and stayed in the Mansion constantly up until the birth.
I suppose Ryan could have encountered her after the birth though...she'd have Natasha's scent on her, so he'd have no problem sniffing her out.
TheWildHost wrote:Моя винтовка жаждет, пистолет готов, и мои глаза острые.
Your thirsty riffle and sharp eyes will see action soon enough....remember...you and the other Hunters near Prague now have a whole metric ton of Wolves out for your blood.
I'm not trying to say that if you get within 100 feet of my character with your hunter in the first 10 pages, I will devour your spleen and use the feces as a weapon to choke you with... But...
Andy decided that it would be best to leave the room, Miranda was still fuming over taking a door to the skull and anything he said seemed to piss her off further. He shook his head as he went downstairs through the lobby, marble floor and a nice pattern in the middle of the floor made out of what looked to be obsidian and some kind of precious metal. It was enough to pique Andy's curiosity and the host at the reception desk seemed friendly enough to know english.
"Excuse me sir." Andy approached the desk with his right hand raised to get his attention.
"Yes sir." the host replied with a thick accent.
"Geeze, he could be in a Bond movie." Andy thought to himself.
"That floor pattern, what's it made out of?" Andy asked.
"Rosa Aurora marble along with some black marble as well. They also used pure silver to outline the design." the host responded, "Why do you ask?"
"It looked interesting, what's it supposed to be?" Andy continued to ask.
"It's an overhead map of the city," the host seemed more concerned with the letters on the desk, "as you may have seen the Vltava River is the thickest line of silver."
Andy nodded along with the information he was given and the host, satisfied with answering Andy's questions returned to his job of sorting letters. Andy felt like asking another question, but the man seemed too engrossed in his paperwork. Andy rapped his fingers on the desk before walking to the lobby doors, made out of another shiny metal, if it was anything less than pure gold it would surprise him, the hotel was fancy to say the least.
The streets were bustling with people, and it reminded him of a scene from some movie set in Time's Square. Andy shrugged off the feeling of something familiar and walked down the street and looked into the windows of the various shops that lined the street; furs, watches, jewelry, lots of expensive items to suit any fat cat's whims. Sadly he was no fat cat he realized as he stared at a nice watch in one of the shops, he felt out of place.
.........................
After window shopping for almost 45 minutes he decided that it was enough time to return to the hotel room. The lobby seemed brighter as he entered and as Andy pressed the elevator call button he returned his vision to the pattern on the floor, he noticed that the marble had faint lines of pink that ran through it like arteries. He remained transfixed by the pattern until the ding of the elevator returned him to the present world.
He soon found himself in front of his room's door and he slid the card into place,the lights on the handle flashed green and he soon found the door flying open at him. Pain flashed across his head as the door made contact.
He staggered to the opposite wall and put his hand on it to steady himself.
"Got you donkey-cave!" Miranda shouted as Andy rubbed his head.
"Really?" Andy asked Miranda, "Did you really have to do that."
"Yes, now we're even." Miranda walked away from the door opening and Andy followed her in, Wendy was chuckling in the corner and the TV was playing international news in English.
"You let her hit me?" Andy asked his wife.
"It seemed only fair." Wendy continued to chuckle to herself, "Besides she got it worse than you, oh and from now on its business okay?"
"Why now?" Andy wasn't surprised by Miranda's actions afterall.
"Because next thing you know someone's going to shoot someone and then the other's going to do something else and it all builds up." Wendy had stopped laughing as she got up and walked to Andy to embrace him, "And I don't want you to have any holes in your body."
"If I shoot you, you won't be able to return the favor." Miranda said loudly over the TV.
"Yeah, yeah." Andy gave Wendy a quick kiss, "Don't worry about me, I'll be completely solid when everything's said and done."
"When do we start working?"Andy asked Miranda.
"Soon, we have to check out the village where the other hunters were killed to find some evidence." Miranda said, "I know you don't feel happy about leaving Wendy here alone so I made sure that some techs were here before we did anything."
"And they're here now?" Andy watched Miranda put on a pair of boots.
"They're in the security room now, setting up connections to the computers and monitors in the penthouse." Miranda said as she tied her boots, "The village is a ways away so we need to leave now, get the truck ready."
"Same truck from empire city?" Andy asked.
"Different truck, this one has a great suspension and 4x4 in it along with searchlights." Miranda got up and walked towards the door as Andy followed.
Natasha rose from the dinning table, motioning for Lukos to stay seated..she wanted no council at the moment, only a chance to be alone with er thoughts.
Slowly she wandered through the splendidly decorated mansion,running her fingertips over an expensive velvet chair as she came to a large picture window...with a small sigh she seated herself and gazed out into the night sky.
It has been near 200 years ago when she had become the last of the Pure Bloods, near two centuries since the thrice damned Hunters had managed to ambush the pack...
Natasha closed her eyes, remebering the events as though they had occured only yesterday..
Her pack...her family had been feeding as they pleased off of a rather large cattle town...taking both the livestock and the humans who hearded them as they wished..
She supposed that perhaps ...just perhaps the pack had become complacient...perhaps the ease of the kills had made them lazy.
The Hunters had struck as the sun rose, they had coated the surface of bundles of dynamite with tar and affixed dozens of silver pellets to the bundles...
Natasha had jumped at the first explosion...hearing the anguished screams of the wounded and dying members of her pack....ten the world went mad....the first explosion was followed by over two dozen more...
The Queen had watched horrified as her kin were vaporized in furious hails of speeding shot...
Then they came...a dozen men...laughing as they gunned down the wounded ...firing round after round of silver into the trembling bodies of the dying...
A grinning human, unwashed and foul had aimed his pistol at Natasha and fired, the round had entered her stomach and she screamed...feeling as though her insides had been set ablaze...
she had glanced about rapidly...her kin were destroyed...she could not allow these vile humans to kill her as well...with out looking back, Natasha had turned and run...the bullets of the Hunters cutting the air around her as she fled.
She had wandered the forest for weeks...mourning the loss of her pack...they were all dead...she was sure, even the two newborn pups...Natasha lowered her head...a mournful howl escaping from her...
The Queen stared out of the window...gazing at the moon, she would not allow what had happened to happen again....her family...her race would not be destroyed...she would see to that..
She would see the human world become her peoples feeding grounds...the humans would exist only to serve the wolf...only to feed the hunger...she would ensure this...she must..
The one she seeked would be found...she would see to that...soon...more Pure Bloods would walk the earth...
Natasha paused for a moment ...thinking..."Musater" she whispered...slowly she reached for her phone.
Jarin sat silently in the Mercedes passenger seat, his cold eyes locked on the road as it unfolded ahead of the vehicle..
His thoughts were focused, like a beam of light..his Queen had ordered the Hunters destroyed...and the rogue wolf Ryan located...that was all that mattered to him.
The huge man reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small cell phone, dialing quickly he awaited a reply...
A moment later he spoke, his voice deep and rich.." The Queen commands the blood of the Hunters must flow...let it be known to each and every wolf...we show no mercy...kill them all."
Mordoskul wrote:Yeah, Natasha's a Rahl, through and through.
Oh most defiantly, while she may appear to be Lycaelon...may even believe she is...deep inside her whole goal is to bring about the fall of humans and the rise of the Beast.
Mordoskul wrote:Yeah, Natasha's a Rahl, through and through.
Oh most defiantly, while she may appear to be Lycaelon...may even believe she is...deep inside her whole goal is to bring about the fall of humans and the rise of the Beast.
Good thing Andy's part awesome and an equal part kick ass with just a bit of Duke Nukem.
Mordoskul wrote:Yeah, Natasha's a Rahl, through and through.
Oh most defiantly, while she may appear to be Lycaelon...may even believe she is...deep inside her whole goal is to bring about the fall of humans and the rise of the Beast.
Good thing Andy's part awesome and an equal part kick ass with just a bit of Duke Nukem.
Let's hope so...because Andy will have his hands full real soon.
Mordoskul wrote:Yeah, Natasha's a Rahl, through and through.
Oh most defiantly, while she may appear to be Lycaelon...may even believe she is...deep inside her whole goal is to bring about the fall of humans and the rise of the Beast.
Good thing Andy's part awesome and an equal part kick ass with just a bit of Duke Nukem.
Let's hope so...because Andy will have his hands full real soon.
Full of the blood of the werewolves and the wonderful taste of raspberry jelly, hopefully he lables the jars right this time.
Ok last write up for tonight...been a long day and I've only had about three hours of sleep in the past 48 hours...
... The figure moved slowly down the rusty fire escape leading from the hotel room window, and walked out onto the busy main street...after moving for several blocks the shape paused...in the distance...a familar face..
" Bruss" the figure hissed lowly stepping back into the shadows of a nearby alley way.
The shape stood motionless for several minutes, watching with contempt as the HUnter peered into various shop windows displaying gaudy trinkets ...foolish baubles to capture the rich mans eye and coin.
Then Bruss was on the move again...and the shape followed, being cautious not to be seen.
Taking cover once again the figure smiled as he watched Bruss enter the lobby of a upscale hotel...
The shape nodded, chuckling " I have you now Andy...any time I want you..."
Still smiling , the figure turned and walked away.
The phone vibrated in the pocket of Musater's jacket. Pulling the Dukati over, he noticed the caller I.D. was odd. Instead of unknown caller, or a number, it simply said "Job wanted". Musater shrugged, thinking that Pup put in a new contact. The hairs on his spine raised when he heard the voice. Smooth, soft, extraordinarily well tempered, with perfect timings on the fluctuations of the syllables. It was Natasha.
"Hello, Musater" Natasha said, calmly. "Hello, my queen." Musater had fear in his voice. "Calm down, young one. I have called to ask you a simple favor. To acomplish this favor, however, I need you to meet me at my abode. Can you be here within the hour?" Musater glared at his watch. "I can try" The laugh was sarcastic and evil. "You will not try. You will, or someone will be coming home to a house with a nice new red interior. Understand?" Musater began to become panicked. The mansion was 55 minutes away. It was 4:00. "Yes, my queen." "Please, call me Natasha. See you soon."
The Dukati reached speed as fast as 80 miles an hour, weaving and bobbing in and out of the bustling traffic of the city. Musater remembered the last person late to an audience with the Queen. His head was found on a spike outside his house. The rest of his body was never found.
The time was 4:45. The mansion was coming up on the right. Musater parked the Dukati, looked up, and felt his jaw drop. The elegance of the ancient building was amazing. Once a cathedral, the Mansion was now a impenetrable fortress in the middle of a forest, with only a dirt road leading up to it. The Iron gates were guarded by two hulking wolves, probably bred for strength and anger.
"Hey, shitface. Where you goin?" "I am going to see Natasha. I am Musater." "Oh. fething time you showed up."
The guard spit out the blunt he was smoking and opened the gate. The fumes of the pot made Musater a bit lightheaded, but seemed to do nothing for the 7 foot tal behemoth of a Lycan. Walking along the path, Musater admired the sculptures. Ancients made the werewolves in stone, from the birth of the Lycan race from the "Grandfather" to now, with the new breed of "Urban" Wolves. This sadly included his sister.
"Good evening Mr. Musater. Care for some brandy, or a fine Brie?" Natasha was in a slim black dress, sipping a Zinfandel. "I assure you, it is like a orgasm of the taste buds." "No thank you, your highness. I had a snack on the way over." "That was not a quetion. Would you like the Brie, or the brandy?" "The... The brandy, please. I need a drink."
She handed Musater the bottle and a small glass.
"I have called you here because you have power I require. Power that you can lend me." "Alright. What is it you need." Musater poured himself another glass. He needed it to calm his nerves. "There is a man I need you to find. This man." She handed him a photo with a name under it. "Irish I take it." Musater has stopped using the glass and is now just swigging it from the bottle. "Yes. I need you to find him, and tell me where he is. You will be rewarded with some... Information vital to you and your Ghoul friend's "Investigation". Musater took a final swig of the now empty brandy bottle and slammed it down on the table. "Sounds good - Er, Yes my queen." "Excellent. I will see you soon. Now go, before you drink another 400 year old bottle of Brandy." She smiled and winked. Musater shuttered.
"Taxes will find him." Musater muttered to himself, nibbling on the man from 4D's finger.
FITZZ wrote: OK guys...that's me for the night...I'm fighting to keep my eyes open.
Hopefully the write up's will inspire some interesting RPing...and lead to the first Player events.
Alright Fitzz, and remember not to beat any sausages.
BIC:
The traffic was almost insufferable as they tried to leave the city and the number of looks that they got as they drove a hunter green truck around the city was countless. The people of Prague acted like they've never seen a truck decked out in hunting gear before. The searchlights on the roof of the truck would illuminate the forest should they ever need to and the 4x4 would make sure that they could drive through without worry of being stuck, at least in the woods, for now they sat in traffic.
.......................
The village seemed nice enough as they pulled into the center. The sun beat down and barely managed to clear the trees surrounding it, sure enough it felt... odd. It felt lost in time, the surrounding forest preventing it from leaving the threshold of the 19th century. It also seemed fitting that some ancient creature would be terrorizing a village like this one.
Miranda had already left the truck before Andy walked out, his sword strapped to his back and the dagger beneath a heavy coat along with his automatic weapon. He looked around and saw nobody in the village, it looked like a ghost town.
"They all dead you think?" Andy asked Miranda.
"Don't be daft, they're all together in the chapel." Miranda replied as she saw some movement in the chapel's bell tower.
Soon enough one of the villagers came out of the vchapel wielding an shotgun and looked at the two before yelling back to the chapel, "Ona vypadat jako člen určitý Germán."(They look like the German)
"What did he say?" Andy whispered to Miranda who only shrugged and pulled out an English to Czech dictionary.
"My ar lovec of člen určitý vlk lid." Miranda said slowly as she flipped through the pages. The villager nodded and went back to the chapel.
"What did you say?" Andy whispered to Miranda.
"I said that we hunt wolf-people." Miranda said, "This thing doesn't have a translation for werewolf."
A few seconds later the man returned with an older one.
"Má jméno is Miranda , tato is Andy , my ar hledět do jeden Germán nazvaný Manfred." Miranda said in mispronounced Czech, "On was jeden druh of báň."( My name is Miranda, that's Andy, we are looking for a German named Manfred. He was a friend of mine.)
"On is bez citu , zabˇtě do jeden zrůda." the older man responded as he shook his head, Miranda didn't catch what he had said and asked him to look for the words in the dictionary.
"He's dead, killed by a monster." Miranda read the chosen words.
"What kind of monster?" Andy asked.
"Jaký druh zrůda?" Miranda translated.
"Ono was udělal bez kost , ne kůže , spravedlivý kost." the old man replied and Miranda once again asked him to point out the words.
"It was made out of bone..." Miranda trailed off, "no skin he says. I've never heard of anything like that, werewolves and vampires all have skin and fur."
"Think its some kind of other monster?" Andy asked, "Or are they mistaken?"
"I don't readily know, but we should call Katz and see if he knows anything before we actually start looking for trouble." Miranda found a few final words in the book, "My ar odpadky do teď , zarmoucený aby ne my potřebovat více hlášení dle náš lid. Bůh být březí." (We are leaving for now, sorry but we need more information from our people. God be with you.)
The old man began to protest in Czech, but neither Andy nor Miranda knew what he was saying as they climbed back into the truck.
"Call Katz, tell him about what they saw." Miranda ordered Andy.
"Alright, I'll give him a call then." he said as he pulled out his phone and dialed the network.
"Hey Katz, its Andy." Andy said as the truck jumped over the dirt road, "The villagers are saying that the thing that killed Manfred was made out of bone."
"Out of bone?" Katz echoed.
"Yeah, they said it had no skin on it." Andy chewed on the inside of his cheek, "Any idea about anything missing its skin?"
"Not off the top of my head, I do recall some sort of stories from that area about a sort of Boogeyman. Tommy redhead, or something like that. I'll have to have someone look up exactly what it is though. I don't know if we've ever delt with this kind of creature before though and to tell the truth I always thought it was something parents used to scare their kids." Katz said as he hung up.
"He said that he's going to have someone look into it." Andy placed the phone back into his pocket, "I hope its nothing new or else I'll need a new weapon to fight it."
"What you have should be good enough for now." Miranda concentrated on the road that twisted through the forest.
"I don't know," Andy shivered as he thought about a monster with no skin or muscle walking around killing people, "we might need a hammer to fight something like that."
"A hammer?" Miranda questioned the thought.
"Haven't you ever played a videogame?" Andy asked seriously, "Blunt objects do extra damage against skeletons because you can't really stab a skeleton, but you sure can smash them."
With the dawn came the sun, and the time to move on. Trees passed Harlow on the lonely road as he cruised on his bike through the countryside. He had no distination in mind but he knew that he was in the Czech Republic somewhere, possibly near Prauge, Harlow didn't know for certain. The sun felt good on his skin as it rose in the sky. The tingling reminded him he was human...for a time at least.
After a couple hours, he saw smoke in the sky, Harlow determined it wasn't a forest fire, it was too concentrated to be that. It couldn't be from the city, it wasn't nearly large enough for that. Harlow figured he was nearing some suburb or town somewhere near the main city. He throttled his bike to crest the hill that the road rose up to in order to get a better look. As he reached the top he saw it; a small town in a valley, surrounded by forests. Harlow knew it was dangerous to hang around any sort of civilization for any length of time, but such visits to the fringes of civilization were necessary for him. He needed a few things, and fuel for his bike wasn't the only one. He needed answers, and he hoped that here he could get a few to the questions he had. These questions, he knew he had not held for very long, in fact he had just encountered some of them when he had arrived in Europe...
(Will finish when I get the time, one, maybe two more parts to this.... )
Nice RP, but...Katz knows about the crooked house , knows it's legend and would also know of Tommy Rawhead ...or at least the "legend" .
Okay, I changed the RP a bit. Nothing like "I know all about it." and nothing like "I know nothing." but a happy medium of "I have some idea, but not the whole picture.".
Nice RP, but...Katz knows about the crooked house , knows it's legend and would also know of Tommy Rawhead ...or at least the "legend" .
Okay, I changed the RP a bit. Nothing like "I know all about it." and nothing like "I know nothing." but a happy medium of "I have some idea, but not the whole picture.".
The airport was a busy place. Harlow found it hard to concentrate on the clerk in front of him as she checked his passport. He couldn't keep his eyes from darting between the people around him. He felt enclosed, cut off from escape, claustrophobic, waiting for some man or woman in the crowd to jump him.
Harlow reigned his panicking thoughts in, there was nothing indicating that he was being followed....so far. His attention was finally garnered by the clerk as she handed his Passport back to him stamped.
"Welcome to Germany, Mr. Harlow" She said politely, her English was unaccented , which was slightly surprising to Harlow, who took the passport and smiled back as politely as he could.
Harlow took his duffel bag from the luggage return and made his way briskly towards the exit. His usual attire had been swapped for a more civilian look, he needed to blend in for a little while, his usual clothes would have betrayed him the moment he stepped out of the plane. From who exactly he was hiding, Harlow didn't know, but he knew that if they found him he would be in a world of hurt...
A scent wafted into his nose, one he had not smelled in a very long time...The smell of a wolf in man form, he could tell that slight odor anywhere. Somewhere behind him, somewhere, somebody was tracking him, following him. This knowledge put Harlow on alert, he didn't see the intruder but didn't wasnt to let him know he had been detected either. Harlow kept walking, knowing that the wolf would not risk confrontation in such a large crowd in the middle of the day, Harlow would bide his time and hopefully, when the chance came, either shake this pursuer, or, if need be, do worse to him.
A swift walk to another terminal and then outside to a loading by took Harlow only a few minutes. All the while, the scent being the only warning of some unwanted presence around him. Harlow continued the charade of stupidity, however, as he retrieved his motorcycle, which had come in on another plane.
The next several days were spent by Harlow cruising the highways and the country roads, trying to keep out of the public eye, as he always did. He didn't have a destination in mind, he constantly switched directions in a bid to lose his pursuers, to no avail. The feeling of being followed never left him, however, and Harlow was always on the lookout for pursuers, even though he never saw any. He tried to convince himself he was just being paranoid but his instincts told him otherwise. Time went on, the sun sank in the sky, Harlow knew it was almost time to make a decision: fight or flight. The invisible pursuers would tail him through the day and then at night, they would mysteriously disappear from all sensing, those first few nights in Europe were near sleepless for Harlow, he was forced to rest with one eye open for assailants.
---------
"We've been chasing this guy for days now, you sure he's not just lost, or leading us into a trap?" One of the figures in the black van which was tailing Harlow at distance said in the darkness of the cabin.
"We've been given orders, we follow them, besides, do you really want to be the next one to piss her off?" A second voice said, this time more confident.
"You should be more worried about me than her majesty right now." The driver of the van interjected harshly "He's going somewhere, the bug on his bike will tell us where, if the intel is right then this could be very important."
"Just how important?" The first one interjected smartly.
"If its right then he's meeting other conspirators in a plot against her majesty's life." The first one snarled. All became quiet at that prospect. "We're following him, thats the end of it."
-----------
Harlow chose his operation point early in the evening of the fifth day since his arrival in central Europe; a small wooded glen, along the shores of the Rhine, not unlike the one where he had lost those punks nearly two weeks earlier. The pursuers; three shadowy figures in a dark van, pulled up at the end of the offshoot, dead end path they had tracked Harlow down. There, on its kickstand was Harlow's bike, alone, he was nowhere to be seen. The three figures got out of the car and scanned the area for clues.
"He's disappeared." One said.
"Nonsense, he's probably gone off to meet with his kind like we thought." Another said
"He's taken one of these trails, split up, find him, when you have radio us and give your position so we can join you." Came the commanding voice of the third.
"Yes sir." the others said at the same time. They bowed to the commander and both took a separate trail. The one remaining took the last trail left and headed further into the woods.
It was not long until this leader of the other two wolves reached a clearing. He was about to move on when he heard the distinct, faint noise of a twig snapping. He reached for his weapon and held it out in front of him, walking slowly forward. Suddenly, on one of his footsteps, something snapped beneath his foot and before he could jump out of the way, he was hauled into the air by the snare trap which held him dangling in the air by one foot. As he struggled to free himself, a lone figure walked out of the brush, clad in a duster and matching fedora. Before the pursuer could protest, Harlow knocked him out with the butt plate of his pistol.
The pursuer awoke, he was disoriented, dizzy, his vision swam until it finally coalesced. He was sitting against a tree, chained to it to be more exact, and Harlow was standing right in front of him.
"Start talking." Harlow said, the pursuer seemed confused.
"I aint playing around, start talking or I'm gonna get a little more pissed than I am." Harlow snarled through clenched teeth
"I do not talk to Nrajah scum." The pursuer spat in disgust.
Harlow had heard the word before, mostly when other monsters like this wolf referred to him.
"Oh really?" Harlow asked cheerfully, his hand slowly drew from a hidden sheath, a huge bowie knife, gleaming silver in the dying sun.
"You know what this is?" Harlow mocked. "A silver alloy, I know how much you monsters like it." With that, Harlow pressed the tip of the blade into the pursuer's shoulder until he howled in pain.
"Who do you work for, why are you following me?" Harlow asked harshly.
"We are the agents of the Queen of Lycans, we were to be on the look out for other lycans, hunters, and any vampires coming into Europe." The pursuer said, pain tinting his voice. Harlow yanked the knife away and sheathed it, the pursuer gasped audibly. Harlow then took out his pistol and placed it to the spy's head, he pulled back the hammer.
"Listen you, tell your queen that I better not see the likes of you or any other of your kind around me anywhere else or I swear to God, I'll finish what you started."
The pursuer nodded with a mixture of fear and anger in his eyes.
"Good." Harlow said and knocked the man out with another pistol whip.
The deed done, Harlow got back onto the road, leaving nothing behind but the crushed tracking bug he had found on his bike, neither scent nor sound of his pursuers came back to his senses in the nights ahead...
------------
That confrontation had been just two nights before, Harlow reminded himself. He needed to put some distance between him and those...whoever they were. No, he would not be staying long at all in the town, he would have to work fast...
...Lukos sat quietly in his upstairs chambers, listening on occasion to the voices of Natasha and Musater as the drifted up from bellow him, he frowned slightly as his fingers danced across his keyboard...he did not care for Musater...feeling the young wolf was far to reckless and wielded to much power...like his sister had.
No matter, Lukos thought...Musater would serve his Queen...and should he cease to be of use...he would join his sister.
Lukos smiled, the light from his monitor reflecting in his cold eyes as he accessed his personal files.."Tier, das die Welt isst"...Likos whispered...
His smile broadened ...for centuries the humans myths had foretold of the coming of the great Beast...but...as humans often do...they had gotten the facts all wrong...
The Great Beast would not devour the sun...nor their "gods"...no...the Great Beast would devour them...their world...their lives.
Lukos stared at the legends of his people...the wolves...tales that also spoke of the rise of Fenrir, tales that were much closer to truth than the human legends of hammer swinging gods...
According to the sacred text..Fenrir would arise from the lines of the "Bastard Wolf"...an outcast..who's steagth and power would issue in a new line of Pure Bloods from which the Great Beast would come...
Lukos fingertips tapped lightly at the keyboard once again, the screen filling with the image of a giant wolf...the one called Ryan...who had sired the Pure Blood who slept nearby..
" Could it really be you..?" Lukos whispered " ...Are the Queens musings correct?...are you the one spoke of in prophecy?"
Lukos frowned deeper, he must know the answer.
Really good stuff man, my only issue would be the time line...
If Harlow had encountered the wolves upon his arrival.... (A week ago) then Jarin would have known of it and informed Natasha when he was at the Mansion...if you follow me.
Hlaine Larkin mk2 wrote:@ Fitzz, you spelt ist as isst and lukos as likos
And i forgot who's the player who created Lukos
And is this your band?
JP created Lukos but has since been MIA, in fact I haven't seen JP on Dakka in a few months now.
As for spelling, I type fast and don't always proof read/spell check.
I'm at work right now,so can't see the link/video...but...since I'm currently not in a working band, I'll have to say no...unless it's an old video of one of the bands I used to play in...in which case...yes.
FITZZ wrote:[...Game of Thrones...I keep hearing good things about this show, I suppose I'm going to have to break down and watch it.
So have but my friend that had read the books and said that it doesn't match up well but someone else heard the opposite but i'll probaly watch it once im finished with b5
Hy guys hows buisness going? It's been alright, some of the locals don't like the sound of you and Isaac speaking english so try to only do it back there. He jerked his thumb at ht door to the back room besides, you ll speak latin there, where did you learn that? Back in empire city I had a mentor, but i'd rather not talk about that. got it boss, besides how many recruits have we have now? Dominilk, Bohumil, Zdislav, Jitka, and Ivanniva. They are all immortlas, there are also about 10 humanii friends (Ghouls) i ahven't caught them name of yet. Isaac came through form the back they also wisper under their breaths about something called the 'Crooked House', . we should do more research into that if at all possible in the future, for now we start to build upon the foundation stone we have here.
I'm pleasantly suprised with your rp's, especially since thisois you first 'big' chainfiction...
If i only could write like that in my first rp...
@everyone
no rp, watching games of thrones
*cough*thankyouGhosty*cough*
Agreed WARORK is putting out some very good stuff..(still needs to "fix" the timeline though. )
...Game of Thrones...I keep hearing good things about this show, I suppose I'm going to have to break down and watch it.
(Awwww, you guys are makin me blush And thanks, I take pride in my writing skills and I'll ascribe them to my previous experience writing fanfiction.
@ FITZZ So, that little event needs to be closer to the present? I can do that, its what I get for trying to write up something at school I'm gonna want to do some more edits besides the timeline too, I want it to be as good as it can be, so when I get time, expect it to be fixed )
@ WARORK ...the RP itself is really good..wouldn't change much, just move the action up to just before or just after Jarin visits Natasha and your golden.
FITZZ wrote: @ WARORK ...the RP itself is really good..wouldn't change much, just move the action up to just before or just after Jarin visits Natasha and your golden.
(Ummm, not exactly clear, how many days/hours/whatever was that before the present game time?)
FITZZ wrote: @ WARORK ...the RP itself is really good..wouldn't change much, just move the action up to just before or just after Jarin visits Natasha and your golden.
(Ummm, not exactly clear, how many days/hours/whatever was that before the present game time?)
Unless I otherwise note...all the write up's I do are in current Game Time...so, the meeting that took place between Jarin and Natasha would have been happening at the same time that say..Andy was window shopping.
If it makes it easier just have the events in your RP take place after the meeting...the following day.
FITZZ wrote: @ WARORK ...the RP itself is really good..wouldn't change much, just move the action up to just before or just after Jarin visits Natasha and your golden.
(Ummm, not exactly clear, how many days/hours/whatever was that before the present game time?)
Unless I otherwise note...all the write up's I do are in current Game Time...so, the meeting that took place between Jarin and Natasha would have been happening at the same time that say..Andy was window shopping.
If it makes it easier just have the events in your RP take place after the meeting...the following day.
(Alright, I gave it a think, tweaked it a bit, take a look, hopefully I got it at least a bit more accurately. )
... Katz sat in front of his computer, the information he'd requested from the Network hanging on the screen in front of his eyes...
He reached for his phone, a slight tremble in his hand and dialed..
A moment later he got Andy's voice mail...
Speaking quickly Katz gave the Hunter as much information as he could...
" The Crooked House is under the control of Black Anise A Witch, who chooses when and where it appears" Katz said " Supposedly it connects to all other planes of reality at once, so it is hypothetically possible to use the Crooked House as a waypoint for planar travel."...Katz paused and poured himself a drink with a shaking hand the continued " According to legend there are an infinite number of rooms within, so many that Black Anise herself is unsure what all of them contain...but some even speculate a passage into hell" Katz took a sip of his whiskey and sighed " The creature you described sounds like Tommy Rawhead, who again according to the legends dwells behind the Crooked House in the Marl Pit, a flooded pit where Tommy makes his lair amongst the bones of his victims"...Katz gulped another mouthful of the amber liquid and went on ". He exclusivley devours naughty children, a law forced upon him by the Seelie Court millenia ago. And supposedly Tommy may appear anywhere in the world instantly, provided a naughty child dwells within, or anywhere near the Crooked House..." Katz finished his drink and poured another..." Andy...If even half of what the Network suspects is true...you better watch your ass."...Katz meant to say more...but the voice mail clicked off.
" Damnit" Katz muttered bringing his glass to his lips.." What have I sent them into...?"
He rose from his seat and walked across his office, pausing to stare out at the skyline from the glass wall of his office...50 stories bellow the city street was alight with motion , a sea of cars rushing by, their occupants blissfully unaware of the evils Katz had relayed to Andy high above...
The man shook his head..." Dear god watch over them.." he whispered...
...From behind him his office door slid open...
Katz whirled...his door had been locked...how..?...he froze.
A giant figure stood in the dim light...it's shoulders broad and hunched...it's eyes glowing in the darkness..
KAtz took an involentary step back as the figure moved forward...stepping into the soft light of a single desk lamp.
" Pontius sends his regards..." the figure growled in a deep rasping voice...
Katz felt his glass slip from his fingers and fall to the floor...his eyes widened in amazement and terror..." you"....he whispered.
High above the New York city street, a giant picture window exploded outwards...the body of Bernard Katz pinwheeling into the night air...it hung in space for one brief instant...then plummeted screaming to the asphalt 500 feet below.
Andy had left his phone in the car while he refueled the truck at a gas station, there had been some arguing over the price when he went inside to pay for the gas and he was watching Miranda talk to the man behind the counter. As a new rule the hunters were forbidden from using their credit cards, some hunter in Australia had been tracked down and his entrails had been strewn on the Great Barrier Reef after using a credit card.
Andy had felt that it was unnecessary to get his US currency exchanged for the local Koruna and now Miranda was busy with her dictionary smoothing things out with the station's owner. Luckily the pump was running and Andy looked around at the living city, it was still very new to him despite the whole Empire City event.
The pump clicked to a stop at 50 koruna and Andy hoped that it was enough to fill the tank, Miranda handed some money to the cashier and left the mini mart.
"Next time we go to a foreign country you exchange your currency." Miranda said as Andy put the pump back in its place. He opened the passenger door and saw his phone lit up with a voicemail message, a missed call from Katz also showed up on the screen. He flipped open his phone and punched in his voicemail password to listen to the message, his face solemn as Miranda buckled herself into the driver's seat.
"What's the matter?" Miranda saw Andy close his phone.
"Katz says that we're in some deep gak. Sounds like he was drinking something too, like he was trying to calm himself down." Andy looked at the dashboard in thought, "Miranda, I think we should get back to the hotel and see if we can get any trucks or something to get those people out of the village."
"Wait, wait, what did he say exactly?" Miranda put the truck into gear and it motored to a roadway.
"He said that there's a witch who lives in some kind of house that can exist in multiple dimensions and has so many rooms that even she doesn't know how many there are." Andy couldn't grasp the concept himself, "That bone monster is a thing called 'Tommy Rawhead', its supposed to eat bad children and lives in a pit of bones near the house. But it killed a hunter, that's what I don't understand, he said something about it being bound a law established by a so called Seelie Court but if its killing adults then something's up."
"What's the Seelie Court?" Miranda asked equally unsure about the situation.
"Hell if I know, I'll give Katz a call to ask him about it." Andy was already dialing him back.
........................
Thousands of miles away a phone rang in an empty office as the wind blew the sound of sirens in through a shattered window painting. An empty glass with three cubes of melting ice and the diluted remains of a shot of whiskey sat on a desk with the shattered computer screen with frayed wires on the floor beneath the desk. The PC tower had been removed and a square of dust betrayed its absence. The lamp was still on, casting a pale glow over the floor as forensics specialists made their way to the room to find out why some man was splattered across the street 500 feet below, they wouldn't find much of anything besides a glass of water and whiskey sitting on a desk.
.....................
"He's not picking up." Andy continued to stare at the phone as the call timer blinked, signalling the end of the call.
"Katz isn't answering, that's odd." Miranda pulled the truck into the parking garage after flashing the parking decal to the gatehouse.
"Miranda, I think we should leave the city." Andy felt a lump in his throat, "If this whole witch house thing is true then we can't do anything about it."
"We'll just have to find a way." she said as she put the car in park, "Besides we can at least deal with any wolves that are here and maybe that Tommy Rawhead thing."
"I guess we could see if there's something we can do about Tommy, but the house seems untouchable and I don't plan on going inside something that the owner doesn't even understand." he said while they entered the hotel lobby, he lowered his voice volume to a barely audible whisper, "We need to get the villagers out as soon as we can or they're all dead. Then we need to worry about ourselves."
....................
"The Seelie court is supposed to be some kind of fairy or magical court of some sorts." Wendy read from the computer screen, "They apparantly are pro human and sometimes help them which would explain why they would make Rawhead limit his prey."
"But he killed a grown man." Andy stood over her shoulder, reading the screen as well, "So either this Court thing really doesn't exist or Mr. Rawhead is breaking the law."
"A court of faries?" Miranda asked from the corner, "If this thing exists fairies might exist as well."
"Eh, I doubt it." Andy shrugged, "What about that Black Anise?"
"She's a witch who eats people, figure the odds on that one." Wendy felt uncomfortable just looking at the words on the screen, "If these things exist I would prefer a werewolf or vampire any day."
"Well," Andy tried, "seeing as though we can't fight these things shouldn't we leave?"
"There are vampires and werewolves here right now so we stay Bruss." Miranda responded sternly.
"We're ill-equipped, this is a death sentence from what I'm seeing and hearing." Andy protested.
"She's right though Andy, we should stay to deal with the vampires and werewolves and perhaps deal with the other... things." Wendy grabbed Andy by the hand.
"Especially if this thing eats babies, you're going to be a dad in four months,do you really want to have something like that running around when he finally arrives?" Wendy played a new card from her sleeve.
"I don't want any of those things alive when I have a kid," Andy was trying to think of a response, "but I can kill vamps and wolves, this thing... I..." he looked at his wife's face, "we'll see if there's anything we can do."
Their collective phones buzzed with messages from the Network, Katz was dead.
"This is a death sentence." Andy repeated after reading.
"Well, we're here anyways."Miranda seemed unphased, "We get some back up and do what we can.".
Erzuli grimaced; leaning on the railings of the balcony she could see the Atlantic ocean crashing onto the beach below. It had, as usual, been an exhillerating week away from the home she had created for herself in the woodlands of Louisiana She had to wonder, had he brought her here on purpose?
"And why would I do that, miláčku? Despite all these years you still remain a mystery to me." Vilem Novak grinned, sitting up on the bed and reaching for a pillow with a well muscled arm. "I want to know all about my mate."
"Its not going to happen Vilem; Danica is already on edge over this and we both know it would only cause tension if I tried to take her place. She doesn't like the competition for your affections, mon amour."
Novak's grin vanished.
"Oh come on... you two get in one fight..." A growl erupted from his throat and he threw the pillow against the wall instead of his intended target, once again she had managed to twist this conversation around.
"Yes, one that I barely managed to heal from. I do require both my hands for my work you know." Rain started to spatter lightly on her naked flesh and she closed her eyes. She flexed her right hand, remembering the bite that had almost severed her fingers, despite the blow that she had ended the conflict with shortly afterwards, only she had borne a scar.
"You won Zuli. She got the message, I can't help it if she is living in the past. You're the one who didn't claim your rightful position in the pack!"
Feeling that once again she was escaping his questions, she allowed herself a slight smile.
"The pack adores her, it would have created unwanted tension. And besides, I do not wish to neglect my own pack."
"Those humanii are not a pack!" He growled again and shifted to the near ten foot, dusky-grey wolf-man and leapt off the bed as it creaked under his weight. Walking up behind her, he laid his muzzle on her left shoulder. "Stop referring to those sheep that seem to rely on your 'spells' and potions as your pack, its no longer a joke to me! It has been too long already, too long and I have been far too patient. You need to accept what you are and join us!" It came across as more of a threat than he intended.
She had to stop herself flinching, he was still the only wolf who could intimidate her so easilly and the only one who seemed resistant to her usual silver tongued excuses. Deciding to give him a little to get away from the required answer she took a breath and leaned back into him.
"You know I think I do remember something... " She glanced sideways, seeing his dark copper eye looking back with a mixture of intrigue and irritation. "I remember my mother..." The rain started to fall with more vigor, feeling it start to drip down her face, she motioned back towards the bed. He pulled back and shifted to his human form, his short black hair already wet from the rain.
"Fine." He pulled on some trousers and sat in a chair across the room, glaring at the lithe figure coming in from the rain. Her stride was off slightly as she shut the glass door and walked to the bed; her hip was aching again he realised, as it often did when she was stressed. She sat down, her back to him; he looked at the scattering of pale patches of skin that stretched from her left buttock upto her waist. His mood softened, remembering the nickname she so hated but sybolised the affection his pack had for her. "So, tell me what you can, Dimes."
Erzuli pouted as the name escaped his lips and she'd bet he knew she was doing it too. The spark of pain in her hip reminded her to keep on subject. She leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed the carved ivory snuffbox on it: opening it carefully she ran her finger over the yellowish paste inside. Putting the paste on her tongue she snapped the box shut and laid back on the bed, letting the paste's effects relax her body. Closing her eyes, she found herself remembering the past far too easilly for her liking.
The armored jeep traversed the country side in search of the lake. Inside was Rachel cursing at the poorly condition of the road. Rachel glanced into the valley, following the trail of a car. The valley was slowly filling with fog. She arrived at the lake just after nightfall. She spotted a bright green Toyota next to a small bush. She hoped it was Vegas’ car. She jumped out the truck, right into the muddy snow. There was on one in the Toyota, but the engine was still hot. “Vegas?” she yelled, trying to find her in the dense fog. “Vegas…..its Rachel!” Something was wrong, Rachel felt a shift in the atmosphere, the desire to vomit came back to her just like this morning. She pulled her two silver blades out, one in each hand. “I must be fething stupid” she muttered as she slowly walked into the fog. The closer she got to the lake, how denser the fog became. The feeling of repulse also growing. Her foot suddenly stopped, glancing down she saw the body of a young boy. He was swimming in a pool of blood. “Vegas …. What did you do?” she flustered, noticing the intricate lines swarming away from the boy. What was this? She saw footsteps going away from the body, towards the lake. Rachel decided to follow. As she followed the footsteps she saw a shadowy figure appearing, pushing a small vessel forward trough the lake. The man looked immaterial, his shape was blurred. A shadow man, was the only way Rachel could describe it.
The vessel stopped right in front of Rachel. She flipped her blades around ready for action. Which didn’t came. Rachel and the shadow man gazed at each other for several minutes, until she broke the silence. “do you know where Vegas is.” The shadow man didn’t respond. Rachel began to get agitated, she jumped onto the small vessel. “Tell me where she is!” she growled at him. She reached for him, but her hand pushed right trough him. Rachel could have sworn that she saw the shadow laugh. The shadow, turned the boat around and pushed it softly trough the icy water. Rachel jumped up, trying to get of the vessel. But the land was gone… they were sailing in an ocean of white. Everywhere she looked, there was no escaping the endless void. The vessel stopped in the middle of the whiteness. “Is Vegas here?” she asked the shadow man. The man just stretched his arm at the void. “yeah, you’re a real help.” She muttered as she disembarked.
It surprised her that she wasn’t floating in mid-air , but standing on the solid white. She glanced back at the vessel, but it was already gone. Leaving her alone in the void. As Vegas did before she started walking in a random direction. It didn’t take her long before she saw a figure in the distance. “Over here.” She yelled as she ran towards the lone figure. It was a young man, who was constantly rubbing his arms. “Sir, …could you..” her question grinded to a halt when the man suddenly jumped up. “This can’t be happing… I can’t be… my wife….she couldn’t.” the man started to walk away from her, continually asking half questions at himself. Rachel watched the man stumble further in the whiteness. What was this place? She wondered.
Suddenly she lay on the ground. Her shoulder bruised where someone had shoved her. She quickly turned around and jumped back on her feet. Her two blades firmly in hand she looked at her aggressor. She looked right at a smiling man, with blond spiked hair. She felt her resolve soften as she whispered his name “…Dez”
*****
Vegas ran, as hard as she could. The trees were a blur of green as she passed them. She had to keep moving or she would lose. She glanced back Sky was still following her. Where was the other child? Where was Holly? Suddenly Holly jumped in front of her. Her small fist swinging at Vegas. Vegas twisted her body trying to avoid her impending doom. “Tag , you’re it.” Holly yelled in a high pitched voice. “not for long!” she yelled back while chasing the giggling Holly. Vegas stopped when a man appeared in the distance. Smoke slowly circled up from his cigarette., towards the mighty brnches of the wood. “James…James!” she yelled as she ran to him. The two little girls looked at the new arrival, unhappy that their game had stopped. “James… come play…”
Vegas looked in the eyes of Colt, they were jet-black. This wasn’t colt… this wasn’t… Vegas mind opened itself. She looked up seeing the whiteness once again. The forest was gone, the feelings of happiness fluttered and died. “What is this?” she asked herself. The man that wasn’t James looked at her. “This is nothing Vegas. You know that as much as I do.” “Is this it? I thought it would be…” “This is getting us nowhere, we know why you are here….and I accept.” The not James looked at her, throwing his cigarette away. “There’s only the small matter of price.” He said while he pulled a silver katana out of nowhere and handed it to her? Vegas gripped the sword tightly, the katana felt like a natural extension of her arm. She turned her back at the black eyed James. Sky and Holly were watching her from underneath the white apple tree. Vegas slowly walked towards the two little girls, slowly raising the katana in the air.
*****
Rachel looked into the jet black eyes of Dez. “You weren’t supposed to be here?” he snapped. “Both of you.” He said while looking at her enlarged belly. She tightened her grip around her blades. “You aren’t him, who are you.” “Who I am doesn’t matter, what you want is something else.” He answered while circling around her. “Vegas… where is…” “No no.” he interrupted. “That’s not what you want, is it.” He stopped right in front of her, gently pushing her hair behind her ear. “This is what you want is it.” He whispered, his lips mere millimeters away from her. Rachel swallowed, her heart heavily bouncing in her chest. “A life, for a life.” He promised. “Take it.” She said “My life…” The man kissed her, and she answered him. She could feel her blood to start boiling, the temperature raising to unknown heights. She couldn’t breathe, she tried to push him away. His lips didn’t even budge. She could feel the darkness creep in, before she faded away.
Rachel eyes flew wide open as searing cold cringed to her body. She was laying in the icy water off Mednyy Zavod. The sun started to awaken as Rachel crept out of the water onto the Russian soil. Heavily breathing she stood up. What happened? She wondered. She looked around in the valley, there was no snow visible. Everything was luscious and green. This wasn’t the place she left. She raised her arm and looked onto her clock. The date flashing in the corner: March the seventh. … four months? This couldn’t be right her watch must be broken. But still it was winter when she came here. Rachel suddenly busted out in activity. IF she was here, then Vegas should be here too. Rachel followed the small stoney beach until she saw a body laying in the water. It was Vegas. She quickly pulled her out the water and checked her vitals. She didn’t feel a heartbeat. “Goddammit!” she yelled while applying CPR on the lifeless body. “Wake up!” she screamed repeatedly, until Vegas eyes flashed open. She coughed out the water filling her lungs. “Vegas are you all right?” “I’m fine.” She answered with a soaked voice. “What are you doing here?” “Not important, lets get you out of here first.” Vegas growled as Rachel pulled her up. She noticed the strange tattoo on her right arm, followed by a scar on both her wrists. “Pick my sword up, please.” Vegas asked. Rachel looked around and saw a silver katana buried half underneath the dirt. Slowly Rachel helped Vegas to get to the jeep. “Vegas….What was that place?” Vegas looked at the firmament before answering “...Nothing.” Rachel softly sat Vegas down against the wheel of the armored Toyota. Her hand caressing her flat belly. “Yea…Nothing.”
“Always remember this Vegas, For each thing gained … something must be given.”
_____________________________________
OOC: Vegas is now officially a Witchhunter.
And what did Rachel get?..... that something i'm keeping for later.... you are warned
The music blared in the Rain nightclub and Amy Histon was dancing on the main dance floor, while she danced the stage was hers, and eyes from all over the club watched the rhythm of her body as she lost herself to the music. She was in her element, a star of light at the centre of the room, oblivious to the eager hungry looks about the room as men drooled at her tight fitting outfit. It was rare for her to get a break from her show line over at the Flamingo, and she sure as hell wasn't going to waste tonight.
Nero sat in the alcove of the main office, the mirrored glass protecting him from the wayward eyes of any bored mortals enjoying an evening at the nightclub, he stared at the woman on the dance floor, so enticing he mused. Four weeks had passed since Scarlett had walked back in the front doors of her Nightclub and stepped back into her life as a key Kindred among the damned of Las Vegas. Nero was not sure why but she seemed to have a charmed life among the Undead, perhaps it was her whole look, her face was not so easily recognisable as one of the undead. The mortals seemed to warm to her, hence she found it easy to gain blood, and with her many hangers on, could help other Kindred get blood just as easily. The mortals seemed so willing to aid her, almost too willing sometimes, it made Nero wonder.
"Penny for them?" muttered Scarlett as she walked up to her desk and slumped into the high backed leather chair. Nero glanced at her and then looked back out at the carnival of colour before him.
"You where not wrong, I marvel at this new society we found ourselves with."
She grinned and lifted up a report from a contact in New York, gazing over it carefully. "I know, it seemed so much more difficult in years past."
Nero nodded.
"They are so decadent, so, based in Sin. It is like picking apples from a barrel. However..." he paused and stared at a man kissing a young woman over eagerly on the dance floor, Scarlett paused in her report waiting for him.
"Well?" She finally said after he seemed lost to the dance floor.
Nero looked slowly toward her, leaning forward his eyes darkening to a near pitch black.
"Do you not miss the hunt?"
His voice was deep, dark, Scarlett looked at him for a moment, it was the first time she seen him this focused. She leant back in the chair and pondered the question as his eyes returned to normal and he sat back into his own place, his gaze back upon the dance floor.
"Yes and no, there is still a hunt in essence, I can't reveal myself too quickly, I must earn their trust, intoxicate their senses, drive them to their knees and break their will before I can claim them for my own."
"You break them, make them playthings. Hmm, so in essence, perhaps your way is... worse."
Scarlett shook her head and returned her gaze to the report. Nero looked back at her and frowned.
"You dislike the idea they are mere cattle Elizabeth, and that your way harms them."
She glanced at him from behind her brow, not lifting her head, not moving, just a shared moment of eye contact before she looked back at the paper. Her silence was deafening.
"Dangerous childe, they are not equals, they are food."
"I never suggested they where equal, I just prefer it this way."
"You thought you where treating them better than the Opriknikki who tears out a mortals throat, draining them till death."
She stopped again and pushed the chair back, shaking her head from frustration she moved around the table and stood alongside him, staring down into the club trying to spot what was catching Nero's attention.
"It must be better this way." She muttered.
Nero smiled, his gaze still on the girl dancing in centre of the floor.
"Only in the sense they are not dead childe. Your way to me is more sinister, you pass over a short moment of pain, a snuffing out of their existence in a few heartbeats, and stretch out their despair, shatter all that they know and make them your slave for the rest of what life they know. Truly which of the choices is more cruel?"
Scarlett tried her best to ignore him, she stared longingly at the dance floor, at the writhing mortal flesh dancing to some benign dance track enveloped by darkness and neon light in the city of Sin. She considered the truth of Nero's comments, but could not disregard them as easily as she would like. No matter the result, surely a life under her thumb was better than no life at all.
Then she saw her.
The woman dancing in the heart of the dance floor, it was... Olivia.
No, not Olivia, but she looked exactly like her, even the hair was the same colour, everything about the woman down below reminded her of Olivia, event the movement of her body.
"I don't believe it." She gasped.
"What?"
"The girl, the one in the centre, in the silver, she.. she could be Olivia. A girl I knew hundreds of years ago, standing down there as if it nothing had happened in the years since her death."
Nero stroked his chin as he looked down at the girl. He could see the essences of spirit dancing around the girl, his Aura sight showed the essence of purity and fate twisting about her soul.
"Fate can be cruel sometimes." Nero said softly. "Maybe God is taunting you for your sins?"
Scarlett grimaced for the God comment, could not take her eyes away from the girl.
"Maybe.." she muttered lost in her thoughts for a moment.
"...or perhaps sometimes fate can grant a gift. It can't be a coincidence, not on the same night." Scarlett said suddenly with a wild look in her eye as she walked back to her desk and looked at the report again. She grasped across the desk, pulling over another report from a week ago, frantically flicking down through the pages till she found the description of the book. A slight smile formed on her lips as she read the text on the page, a plan escalating in her mind.
"Do you want to see my way with the mortals Nero, at work?" She said heading towards the door.
Nero watched her leave quietly, he gazed over at the report, leaning forward with a raised eyebrow that caused a slight frown, surely she could not be considering that he thought before turning his head back to see Scarlett appear down below. He watched as she slowly crossed the crowded dance floor, barely anyone else noticing her approach, apart from the woman who seemed unable to turn her gaze away. Curious, he thought as he watched Scarlett introduce herself.
Little Bedrich rolled over in his bed for the eleventh time that night, unable to fall asleep. The night was especially scary, the branches hitting his window were nightmarish claws belonging to cannibal giants seeking a way inside his room. The house settling was a chorus of demon footsteps, each one looking for him in the dead of night. Night was always scary to Bedrich, but tonight was worse. Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. His dad had checked under his bed for monsters before he had crawled under the covers, as he did every night, but that didn't mean they weren't lurking in the closet. Bedrich almost wet himself as the stairs creaked, throwing the covers over his head and shutting his eyes so tight it hurt. His parents said it was just the house settling, and Bedrich was about to assume thus until the stairs creaked again, as if something was making it's way up to his bedroom. Another creak, and the faint sound of water dripping wood. When the stairs creaked for the fifth time, Bedrich ran for his parent's room, throwing open the doors as he shouted for them to wake up. His father yelled angrily for him to go back to sleep, but when Bedrich insisted, he looked down the stairs, and examined the ground floor, showing everything to be perfectly normal. Bedrich was sent back to bed, still not convinced. When the creaking did not return, Bedrich began to drift off to sleep, thinking he must be imagining things. After about an hour or so, he was awakened by another creak, this one sounding as if it came not from the stairs, but from outside his door. Bedrich cowered under the sheets, crying softly in fear. Under the white shield of the blankets, he heard his door swing open, and footsteps entering his room, which stopped in front of his bed. Suddenly, his sheets were yanked from his person, exposing him to the cruelty of the night, and the creature standing in his room. It stood over nine feet tall, with a slightly stooped back, and clawed arms that nearly reached the floor. It was a great skeleton, yellow with age and dark with blood, which dripped in great quantities upon the floor. It's skull was that of a horse, drooling gore from it's snout. Two small, human eyes glared out from the skull with mocking cunning, as if laughing at his helplessness. "You've been a naughty boy, Bedrich," said Tommy Rawhead, grinning an awful, manic rictus-smile.
First, there was but darkness. Then images came hard and fast. His Uncle, Richards’s mutilated corpse on the ground, beside a burning farm, blood in the air… intoxicating. Then the fierceness of battle raging on all around him. Firing his crossbow at the approaching Vampires, punching silver bullets into the savage black wolves that constantly approached, then the moment where his life slipped away. One bite, on his leg, and it was all over. Vegas, pointing the shotgun at him, but unwilling to use it. She couldn’t, wouldn’t…
Then images of Rachel, of what they could have been, what life they could have had.
Them kissing, eating a lovely meal at a dead posh restaurant, wearing their best clothes… she was beautiful. Her, pregnant, holding her belly. then children, and everybody, all of them, smiling and laughing. Then, her and him, old, but happy together, holding hands, and one last kiss… before the daemons came, and charged, and all the monsters in the world charged, and… nothing…
Dez awoke with a start, taking in a deep breath, bringing his hands up to his face to wipe the sweat away. It was all a nightmare. The same nightmare.
He was on a plane. Well, at least he realised that when he looked out of his small window at the beautiful, calm blue sky, and the white clouds…
Then Carl walked by his seat, and spoke to him.
“Hey, you have been sleeping for the whole night, and this morning. Had a good long rest?” he asked warmly.
“Uhhh, what? Yeah, yeah I did. It was nice to have a sleep,” Dez replied, tiredly.
“We are almost at Prague. It should be cold there, and should be lots of slow, so wrap up tight.”
“Sure thing,” Dez said as Carl walked away, not before patting him on the shoulder quickly.
Dez didn’t like it. He supposed he was finally get a chance to use his skills, and fight for the good of humanity. But is scared him that he was going to have the fight the same things which turned him, and more.
In all honesty, he was quite scared.
**************************************
Carl, Dominic, Kestrella, and finally Dez, all worked down from the Plane, with their suitcases, and belongings. They remained fairly quiet for a while, and cold, until they got out of the Airport, and onto the street.
“Okay, I have got us some transport. In fact, it is my personal car which I had brought her specifically,” said Carl in a proud sort of way. “So if you could look to the right around about… now.”
Then, coming around a corner to their right, the group surprisedly saw a Black Aston Martin drive around, it’s slender, sleek surface glinting in the sunlight, as it came around, the scene quite unnatural with all the snow around the pavement.
“This, my friends,” Carl said with pride, while the others (apart from Dez) stared awestruck at the beautiful piece of machinery. “Is my car.”
***********************************
When the group were all safely at a small house they had got, they unpacked all their bags and suitcases, and finally settled down in the evening.
“Okay, I’ll start cooking some beef mince for us all, should be nice,” Carl stated, preparing the food.
When it was ready, everybody sat down at a table in the small, white kitchen, and ate the steaming hot meal that had been prepared for them with Champagne.
“People,” Carl addressed, standing up and raising his glass of Champagne. Tomorrow, we will begin our work. Destroying all those who would have mankind disposed of. It will be a hard task, but you are all up to it, and that is why I am proud of you all. So, to us, and the future!”
“To us, and the future!” they all repeated, raising their glasses the same as Carl.
“Now,” Dominic said happily. “Let’s eat like it’s the best meal in the world,” he glanced at Carl worriedly. “Which, undoubtedly, it is!”
I want to commend all of you on some really fantastic RPs...great stuff guys.
I'm going to be setting up some player events soon, most likely tomorrow.
Now, I have to apologize as there will be no write ups from me for tonight, I seriously hurt my back at work today....so I'm taking it easy...however, I'll be taking the day off tomorrow and will have some stuff up then.
TheWildHost wrote:Hope nothing bad happened fitzz, back inurys can lead to some effed up gak. My dad has vertigo from when he hurt his back( Don't ask how)
Appreciate the concern, ...I was helping to load a compressor ( about 300 pounds) onto a truck and one of the guys lost his grip on it, so...of course I had to play Superman and keep it from falling (on retrospect I should have let it fall).
Anyway,pulled some muscles in my lower back...and shoulder...but I don't think it's too bad...just hurts like hell.
So, I'll take the day off tomorrow and see how I feel...if it's still bothering me on Friday I'll go to the Doctor.
Chowderhead wrote:Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while. I haven't had time to RP with some... "Stuff"... Going on in my life. I'll post Tomorrow night, though.
It's fine Chowder...take care of what you have to .
FITZZ wrote: I want to commend all of you on some really fantastic RPs...great stuff guys.
I'm going to be setting up some player events soon, most likely tomorrow.
Now, I have to apologize as there will be no write ups from me for tonight, I seriously hurt my back at work today....so I'm taking it easy...however, I'll be taking the day off tomorrow and will have some stuff up then.
(OH NOEZ!!!!! THE GM IZ DOWN, GETZ THE MEHDIK!!!! But srsly Fitzz, Do get better soon and take it easy, we'll have you in our thoughts and we'll be here when you get back!
*cricket chirps*
..............okay I'll be here when you get back.... )
TheWildHost wrote:Hope nothing bad happened fitzz, back inurys can lead to some effed up gak. My dad has vertigo from when he hurt his back( Don't ask how)
Appreciate the concern, ...I was helping to load a compressor ( about 300 pounds) onto a truck and one of the guys lost his grip on it, so...of course I had to play Superman and keep it from falling (on retrospect I should have let it fall).
Anyway,pulled some muscles in my lower back...and shoulder...but I don't think it's too bad...just hurts like hell.
So, I'll take the day off tomorrow and see how I feel...if it's still bothering me on Friday I'll go to the Doctor.
Back injuries suck, hopefully its just a strained muscle and nothing else. Maybe you saved yourself though, if it fell it could've landed on something or somebody and a crush injury is worse than a sprain.
Anyways, good luck to you.
BIC:
The sky looked darker as the sun began to set, the white clouds reflected the red hue of the sun and Andy remembered an old saying from when he was young, "Red at night, sailors delight, red in morning, sailors take warning.". He wondered if it applied to Hunters as well, hell he hoped it applied to him. Miranda and Wendy had been busy looking up rental truck places in and around Prague while Andy was busy calling hotels around the city.
(Minutes Before)
"So, what are the chances that we can destroy the thing going after the villagers?" Andy said as the others also sat at the table.
"I hate to admit it, but it does seem close to impossible because we don't know any weaknesses to that Rawhead character. We just need to find out if it has a side." Miranda sipped a glass of water.
"What about Katz, something knows about us being here." Wendy was still unsettled over Katz's death.
"You really think they're tied together?" Andy asked.
"Possibly, and this whole thing could turn out to be a trap, or if Rawhead is on its own we could be being used to weaken it and the witch before something else tries to destroy either one." Miranda added to the question.
"Which side gains the most from its destruction? I mean we gain a lot of course, but besides us?" Andy was feeling worse about bringing Wendy with him, "The vamps?"
"The wolves probably, vampires like to use supernatural powers and the likes so if they were in on this they would probably use Rawhead's existence to their advantage. Maybe they're using him as a cover for their actions or blaming the wolves for his actions so that we go after the wolves. Wolves are just... wolves." Miranda looked at the table with her arms crossed, thinking.
"So we think this thing is either unaligned or working with the vamps?" Wendy leaned on an elbow, "The wolves usually keep to their own so I'll have to agree with you on this one, but what if they actually hatched a plan for once and are using it to frame the vamps?"
"Or we can just say that its a bad thing we don't know much about." Andy said frustrated, "It's killing people in the village so we remove its food source and we see what happens, if it rampages then we can assume its on its own and if it does nothing then we can say that something else is holding it back, it may not tell us who its working with, but it will tell us whether or not it is working with somebody."
"How do you propose removing its food?" Wendy asked.
"We relocate the villagers, I'm sure there's something like a U-Haul around here and we put them up in some kind of hotel or apartment." Andy pulled out a map of the city, "There's some places around, here, here, and...here." he pointed to red circles on the map.
"How much?" Miranda asked quickly.
"$1,000 american for a day, 1,500 for two days, and 3,000 for a week." Andy smiled.
"How do you know about this?" Miranda wasn't entirely shocked, Andy had a way to overplan sometimes.
"I looked up rates before we got here and multiplied them by the number of rooms we may need. They have some nice discounts for long-term stays and group discounts." Andy was still smiling, happy that he had once again shown that he was thinking ahead.
"You're mister happy all of a sudden." Wendy smirked.
"Hey, when I think of something good, it makes me feel good." Andy drummed on the table.
"Don't feel too good we still need to execute the plan and moving an entire village is no easy task." Miranda shot down Andy's mood.
"Then let's do it." Andy said in near defiance to the challenge.
...................
"We get the trucks?" Andy asked.
"We got three large ones, what about the hotels?" Wendy replied.
"We have enough rooms, and it cost a little less than my estimate, only 2,800 for the week." Andy clapped his hands together.
"What a bargain." Miranda replied sarcastically.
"Okay, so tomorrow we go to the village and tell them that we're moving them out for the week." another thought entered Andy's head, "What if they won't leave?"
"I don't think they're that stupid or stubborn to not leave." Miranda remembered her own village, "But then again its been their home for so long they may not want to just abandon it in a day."
"We need some cover too." Wendy added in, "If you guys get stuck out in the open with truck-fulls of villagers you might as well be a catering company, and the two of you versus however many..."
"There are other hunters en route." Andy began.
"He's right, there's some coming in from Russia, they should be here within the day and Smalls was rerouted to join us here as well. Katz's death set off some kind of chain reaction in the Network and they're putting 2 and 2 together wherever they can." Miranda complimented Andy's statement.
"More than Empire City?" Wendy asked.
"Maybe, we won't know until they get here. After Katz's death they're being extra careful with the information they give out, we don't know how they found out about Katz and we don't know who did this." Miranda answered.
For the rest of the evening the trio sat and waited for the others to arrive, playing cards or whatever they could do to stave off boredom.
...As darkness begin to fall the shape took possistion, settling itself on a rooftop across from the luxury hotel in which Bruss and his companions now resided...
The figure methodicly fixed an extended silencer to an SVD-S sniper rifle , grinning as it did...
The news of Katz death had brought the shape a great deal of pleasure...but then again it had always loathed Katz...thinking the old man a foolish drunkard with no true grasp of the magnitude of the events he sought to interfer in...
The figure chuckled softly..." Ah Mr. Katz...I'm sure it was quite a surprise for you when you beheld who'd come to end your pathetic existance...probably sobered you up real quick.."
The shape sighted the weapon in it's hands on a window facing into Andy's room, even with the curtains slightly drawn it could see Bruss and the others through the powerful scope...
A frown creased the shapes face...it had hated Bruss from the moment it had laid eyes on him...arrogent and cocky...
The shape placed the sights cross hairs on Andy's face..." Boom..good night Andy" the figure whispered...but then paused before squeezing the trigger..." No...not yet...I want to see you suffer."
The sights searched the room...stopping on Miranda for a brief moment ...then moving on...settling on Wendy...
" Yes.." the figure whispered it's hands starting to tremble..." You...let Bruss know what it feels like to lose you.."
The cross hairs jittered slightly ,coming to rest again on the woman...slowly the figure exhaled ...finger tightening on the weapons trigger..." Goodbye Wendy" the shape said...and fired.
Andy and the others?...yes their in Prague.
...And..I should note..I'm leaving what happens up to Nachos (for now)...the "Figure" shot at Wendy...but...did he hit her?
A small chapel stood in the middle of a small grass field, surrounded by ancient threatening trees. A few small rabbits happily fooling around. Until the sound of a mighty engine tore through air. An armored jeep appeared out of a dirt road. Its mighty roar fluttered and died, when it stopped in front of the chapel. “Oh man, I need this.” Rachel said while she climbed out of the jeep. She groaned as she stretched her legs. The passenger door opened and Vegas jumped out. “Well if you need it, that bad.” She said while looking at the grim forest. “Then lets put it to good use.” “No, not again.” Rachel muttered. “You wanted to come with me, and I didn’t wanted to drag someone around. It’s the price you pay.” “Fine.” Rachel grudgingly accepted as she walked into the small field.
She pulled her two blades from their containers. Vegas threw her overcoat on the ground, revealing her new tattoo. The thing crept Rachel out, the lines seemed to be moving., but every time she focused on it; the movement stopped. Vegas pulled her silver katana out of its black scabbard. Rachel let her eyes flow over the magnificent weapon until she ended at her wrists. A scar ran over both her wrists. Where did these came from? Did she wanted to die? “What are you looking at?” Vegas asked the sun revealing her bright eyes in a scarred face. “I see that you collect scars, if you want I can give you another.” Rachel answered with a smug face. “Keep your attention on my blade, or I’ll give you one.” Vegas charged towards her, Rachel grinned as she twirled her blades around. “Show me what you got!” she yelled when their blades connected.
Rachel leaned against the jeep heavily breathing, several cuts still bleeding. They stinged, but Rachel felt great. In battle she could forget anything. There was only the moment, a blissful moment of total awareness. She looked at Vegas cleaning her Katana, she too had several bleeding cuts. “Good show.” Vegas said, while gliding the katana back into its scabbard. “I’ve got something for you.” Rachel nodded, and used the waiting time to get her breath back. Vegas handed her a wooden box. “What’s inside?” “Open it.” Vegas replied while lighting a cigarette. Rachel lifted the cover … a black wooden crossbow laid in it. “IT was his, I figure it belongs to you now.” Vision appeared before her eyes, taking her back into Empire city. “Thank you …” Vegas raised her shoulders, it was never hers afterall. “… How did he die?” Rachel looked in the eyes of Vegas, who suddenly grew dark. “He died, when he got bitten.” Rachel followed the lines of the ancient crossbow. Her thoughts ran everywhere, he died when he got bitten … The black eyed Dez… Was he dead but still walking?
_______________________
Shas'ui T'au Kais wrote:I meant as in I was thinking it was Shadow...
... just maybe...
...No...not Shadow...
Don't worry...all will eventually be revealed...and trust me...I've got a whole load of tricks and twist up my sleeve ...the identity of the " Shape" being just the tip of the iceberg.
Shas'ui T'au Kais wrote:Wait for me FITZZ, I need to do a write up...
No rush Kais...nothing will happen until Nachos gets a chance to RP his response as well....so your RP will be part of the "set up" for any upcoming fun.
Shas'ui T'au Kais wrote:Wait for me FITZZ, I need to do a write up...
No rush Kais...nothing will happen until Nachos gets a chance to RP his response as well....so your RP will be part of the "set up" for any upcoming fun.
Damnit Fitzz, making me make the choice. Good thing I have D10's!
...As the deadly projectile hurdled through the air towards an unsuspecting Wendy ...a dozen miles away Lukos stormed through the hallways of the secluded mansion, without thinking he threw open the door to Natasha's bedchambers stammering as he found his Queen coupling with a young female wolf named Kiri...
Natasha locked eyes with her General, a mixture of frustration and amusement playing across her features as Kiri drew the satin bed sheets over her body.
" I pray you have a very good reason for this interuption Lukos.." Natasha said with a touch of annoyance ..
" I appologize my Queen" Lukos said with a small bow.." I was unaware that you were ...entertaining."
Natasha's eyes narrowed ..." Don't test my paitence Lukos..."
" Sorry my Queen..." Lukos said..a slight smile on his face " I do indeed have news which I know will interest you..."
Natasha sighed..." Then..by all means spit it out..."
Lukos nodded..." I've just recieved word from Jarin...it seems one of his operatives had an encounter with a Nrajah....an American Nrajah...who was dressed like a cowboy.."
Natasha frowned..." ...And..the Nrajah is dead now?"
Lukos shook his head " To the contrary my Queen...it seems this Cowboy Nrajah incapacitated Jarin's operative...discovered who he worked for...by use of a silver blade...and left a message that he was to be left alone...or else."
Natasha stared at Lukos...anger spreading over her face..." Inform Jarin that I want this arrogent piece of trash found...and brought to me...and tell him to rip the tounge out of his agents head as well.."
Lukos bowed " As you command "
Natasha turned, enfolding Kiri into her arms and slipping the sheets from her body " Now leave ...I've more pleasurable pursuits to engage in.."
" Yes my Queen" Lukos said , his eyes drinking in the two figures intertwining as he departed the room..
Shas'ui T'au Kais wrote:Wait for me FITZZ, I need to do a write up...
No rush Kais...nothing will happen until Nachos gets a chance to RP his response as well....so your RP will be part of the "set up" for any upcoming fun.
Damnit Fitzz, making me make the choice. Good thing I have D10's!
I figured that this early in the RP I'd let you decide what happens to Wendy...but...I do see an event looming.
EDIT:...Truth be told ...I have two potential events in the works...
Dez stared out at the moonlit city, glistening in slow. He was deep in thought, like he always was.. He had changed once he was turned, no longer the happy, full of life young man he used to be. That had all gone. He had realised the harshness of life, and that he was to stay on his toes, never let his guard down. Survive.
Suddenly he heard something. It was very faint but he could definately hear it. Dez could smell it as well, the gunpowder, the-
It was a silenced gunshot.
This instilled panic in Dez. Something was happening right now, and it was dangerous. Either somebody was dying, dead, or there was a sniper somewhere in the city. But it was close.
At that exact moment Dominic walked out onto the balcony, with his usual warming smile, and spoke to Dez.
"Hey Dez, you've been out here for a while. Whats wrong?" he asked just as Dez turned around, his breath faster than usual, and his eyes showing mild warning. "Okay Dez, what is it?"
"There was a gunshot! A silenced gunshot! We have to check it out! Now!" Dez replied as he jumped off the balcony with great finesse and skill, and landed on a building close by. "Come on. We need to see this!" he shouted, running where the scent of gunpowder was.
Dominic was awestruck, shown by his mouth wide open, but then he showed aggrivation.
"Oh Dez, always the show off..." he sighed, following Dez with a jump, and then racing across the rooftop, trying to catcch up. "This better be worth missing out on dessert..."
Dez was quite far ahead, but slowed down when Dominic asked him to, trying to catch up.
"Dez, we don't know what we're running into! It could be anything!" Dominic cried.
"I know that, but we need to investigate. That is what we are here for isn't it?" Dez replied firmly.
"I know that, but this is a little rash, and Carl doesn't kno-"
"Look," Dez said calmly as possible, and Dominic looked around in confusion, before seeing a figure lying down, with a sniper in his hands, cloaked in black.
The figure was invisible to the naked eye, but Werewolves noticed things much more easily.
"It is time we said hello to his certain individual, Dez stated, drawing his M9, and approaching the dark figure...
If i'm not mistaken ..... you're not going to like this....
Well...lets just say a bullet has come through Andy's window...possiably striking his pregnant wife....on the building rooftop from where the shot came Andy see's a former team mate who is now a wolf...who knows what sort of zany ideas Andy might get.
FITZZ wrote:Well...lets just say a bullet has come through Andy's window...possiably striking his pregnant wife....on the building rooftop from where the shot came Andy see's a former team mate who is now a wolf...who knows what sort of zany ideas Andy might get.
FITZZ wrote:...Oh the ideas that are blossoming..this may turn out better than expected.
@ WARORK...creepy?...
(Not going to lie, not a big fan of she wolf on she wolf action but hey, your runnin the show, just saying )
AH...I see.
In the previous Blood Moon RP..Natasha's.."appetite" was "explored"...lets just say that human flesh isn't the only cravings that wolves have.
FITZZ wrote:Well...lets just say a bullet has come through Andy's window...possiably striking his pregnant wife....on the building rooftop from where the shot came Andy see's a former team mate who is now a wolf...who knows what sort of zany ideas Andy might get.
Let the shennanigans begin
Once Nachos does his RP concerning Andy's reactions after the shot was fired ( and if Wendy is hit)...I will be setting up our first player event...
Clarence Jenkins walked slowly along the marble stained floor of the Occult exhibit of the New York History Museum, spinning his flash light like it was some kind of sword. He'd been the head night-watchman of the museum for nearly nine years and he whistled as he strode confidently along his path. Every couple of hours he'd get up and walk the corridors of the Museum, just in case. Of course in nearly the entirety of his employment, just in case had turned up with nothing, but he enjoyed his strolls none the less.
He paused and stared at the strange arcane looking implements in the case, an old dusty tome etched in crude runes sat on a plush satin pillow at the centre of the case. He shivered as he looked around, mummified heads, voodoo, sorcery items, artefacts of an era long gone by. It made him slightly uncomfortable, fortunately it was only at the Museum for another couple of weeks before moving on to the Smithsonian.
He paused and looked down at the strange looking tome in the case, Grimoire Umbra quod Nex was etched onto the tattered cover, wrapped in what seemed like pigs skin, torn and scarred with years of decay. The book made him shiver, some Witch book from the distant lands of Bohemia according to the small sign alongside of it. Clarence looked forward, he was sure he saw something move on the book, like a eye blinking, a shadow reflected off the case.
Clarence was thrust through the glass head first at break neck speed, he tried to scream but the force of the trauma stole the breath from his lungs as his forehead smashed into the wooden frame of the case with a crack. Yanked backwards like a toy he couldn't make out what had assaulted him, only the eruption of alarms managed to pass the pain tearing at his senses as something lifted him up and threw him twenty feet into a marble wall with a sickening thud.
The shadow span and glared down at the book, clawed hand snatching it up with a triumphant roar. It span and leapt twenty feet up to the ledge of the balcony above the main floor, then darted up through a stairwell into the store rooms above. Reaching the window it entered through, it didn't pause to shift to a mist and instead barrelled through the glass and rusted iron bars crashing out onto the battlements that looked out upon the Park.
Police sirens where rapidly approaching, and in the distance the tell tale sound of a incoming police chopper caused even the tall beast to pause and snarl into the air. dropping its shoulder the creature barrelled forward like a gorilla, jumping off the roof and onto a lower one twenty feet below with a cry of rage as it crashed along the slate roof before jumping down onto the bonnet of a Police car that swerved hard and smashed into a wall.
Ignoring the shots firing from behind the large shadow like creature carried on charging across central park west and over the short wall into the undergrowth. Ignoring the occasional hit as it swiftly pulled away from its pursuers, crashing along the park down towards Belvedere Castle and Turtle pond. Crossing the Transverse road it moved like the wind its pace even masking it from the searching police cars in the gloom of the park at night.
Reaching fifth, it leapt over the road into seventy eighth street and dropped the book into a trash can as it ran, flipping another car it its way before it moved out of sight. Two police cars screamed around the corner and pursued it down the road neither spotting the drop, or the strange little man who paused by the bin with a wicked grin. Lifting up the book he wrapped it in a dark silk facecloth and slid it carefully into his backpack. He was so going to own Wilhelm for that raid, but it'd be worth it.
Flicking open his mobile he scanned down the list of names and pressed the dial button, listening as the ring tone echoed down the line several times until a female voice answered.
"Scarlett, jobs done, will get this thing to a trusted courier and you'll have it in three days, and that makes us square right. Good, hope this thing is worth it lady, looks dangerous to me."
Hanging up the phone, the small kindred got into a black Lincoln MKZ and carefully pulled out heading across town to his warehouse on Kent Avenue in Brooklyn.
Harlow rode into the town some time after noon, his attire got a few strange looks but in general he wasn't attracting much attention. As he weaved through the small roads, Harlow noticed a lot of people talking to each other, and not just friendly chatter either. Outside coffee shops and other places of public gathering, many groups were in animated discussion. Harlow briefly wondered what most of the townies could be conversing over but put it to the back of his mind as he sought what he looked for. Finally, as he neared the center of town, he found a service station to get his bike a once over. He'd been on the road a lot lately and that bike was one of his only assets now, he needed to keep it in condition.
As he pulled up into the garage, a short, chubby man in work overalls greeted him and began looking at his bike as Harlow got off.
"You not from around here are ya?" He said in accented English. Harlow shook his head.
"Lemme guess, American?" The worker said with a slight smile which Harlow returned.
"I knew it, I always been a fan of John Wayne. His movies were the best when I was just a kid." The worker continued, rambling. Harlow walked away and took a few breaths outside.
"Just fill her up and make sure she runs." He said without another word. As he observed the town, he found the small town setting nostalgic. He used to live in a country burb like this, but of course that was a time long gone, a time he could not go back to.
Harlow took off his hat and breathed deeply, enjoying the scents, he was decently sure there was a bakery somewhere around here. Maybe he would check that out if he had the time. In the fifteen minutes that the worker took on Harlow's bike, the reluctant wolf let himself relax, for just a few minutes his mind, which had been swarmed with so many doubts and fears for so long, was clear. Harlow held onto that feeling, knowing he would not have it for long.
"All done Mister." The worker said, walking up behind Harlow, wiping his oily hands off with a rag. Harlow turned, and payed the man his due. Just as he was about to throttle the bike back to life, he got the worker's attention.
"Hey, I'm new in town, you got any good place to stay around here?"
"Oh yah." The worker said in a friendly tone. "Me and me buddies go down to a bar about a mile from here after work sometimes, its in the bottom floor of an apartment building, they should have rooms and a map in case you're lookin to stay for a while."
"One more thing." Harlow said. "What's everyone talking about?"
"Oh that." The worker said absently. "There's been rumors goin around for the past day about the town on the other side of Prague. They say say some band of murderers is loose up there, pretty nasty stuff. I don't listen much to it myself, just more stupid gossip and rumors."
Harlow thought about it for a second and then tipped his hat to the worker.
"Much obliged." He said and then throttled his bike to life and got back onto the road.
Harlow passed more public buildings and saw yet more groups gathered in conversation. There had to be a little more going on here than silly rumors for so many people to be talking about one thing. Harlow figured he might as well know what the story was, besides, he knew there was usually a grain of truth in even the biggest rumors. This was how he got the news on the world around him; the old fashioned way, he watched, he listened, he caught things that were thought to be said or done in private. Harlow made it to the building the worker had told him about and parked his bike outside. He walked in and went up to the front desk of the apartment building. An older woman with bifocals saw him as he walked in.
"One room on the second floor." He said and placed a wad of bills on the table equivalent to three days advance pay. "No questions, no visitors, if anyone asks for anyone like me, you haven't seen him. Name's Harlow, use that if you need to."
The woman looked at Harlow strangely, as if she didn't trust him, but she took the cash and put Harlow's name in the computer next to the desk anyway. Without a word she handed him a key and pointed to a door to the right.
"Advokacie is do tam" she said. Harlow figured that must be where the bar the worker mentioned was. He tipped his hat to the woman and took the elevator to the second floor, found the room where the key corresponded, and hauled his bags onto one of the beds. He quickly checked the bags to make sure everything was there. There was his clothes and his cash, and his Winchester. Everything looked alright so he zipped them back up and stowed them in the closet. Time to get to work, he kept one of his pistols and his knife hidden on him but he swapped the duster for a much more civilian and shorter leather jacket. He was still undeniably American, but at least now he didn't look so outlandish.
Harlow walked into the bar, in several corners were wide screen televisions that were tuned into things like soccer games and news channels. Harlow didn't speak or read Czech so he diverted his attention to anyone speaking English. He found an empty seat at the sparsely populated bar and looked around. The bar was dimly lit and had a few patrons in secluded corners, talking to the others around them quietly. Perfect, now to get cracking...
The Barkeeper walked over to where Harlow was sitting.
"What'll it be, Cowboy?" He asked rather amused.
"Some scotch and whatever the house special is." Harlow said, not really paying attention to him. trying to focus his impressive hearing on the small area around him.
"I swear that's what he said." He heard from a muffled voice in a corner of the bar behind him.
"What? Sounds like a lot of stupid superstition to me. A boogeyman? Give me a break." Another more skeptical voice said.
"No, I'm serious, my brother lives there with his family, he said word's been going around that Tommy Rawhead's been killing people left and right over there, well, at least someone who looks like Rawhead."
Harlow's curiosity was piqued, he'd never heard of this Rawhead before, but apparently it was some sort of superstition around here. The barkeeper came back with Harlow's food and drink, Harlow barely acknowledged the man as he listened back in.
" Probably the latter, I mean who knows what kind of crazy people live out in the country?" A third voice said logically.
"Hey, I'm just saying what my brother told me, but he also said that yesterday someone had come to investigate the murders."
"Who? The government?"
"A guy and two women, they were armed, they asked a few questions and said that they were there to kill 'wolf men' whatever that meant."
Harlow nearly choked on his drink with that last statement. Here he was, thousands of miles from where he started and there were still huters looking for him. God feth it all! That's what all the townspeople were talking about. Harlow didn't know anything about this Rawhead character but he figured that it must have something to do with the wolves he had been followed by and these hunters that were around. Instead of finding haven, Harlow had just walked into another ground war between the two. The realization was frustrating to say the least. Harlow downed his food and drink and left the money on the table, he needed to get more details and he needed to keep an eye out, things were not going the way he'd hoped....
Balbus nervously stepped onto the roof of the Rio, the voodoo lounge wasn't very busy, but he disliked being out on his own, it was too open. Of course getting messages to meet unnown people on pain of death upon strange rooftops where not his idea of fun either. Walking up to the edge of the rail. He glanced around before dropping down onto the lower roof and vanishing out of sight beyond the lift controls and maintenance sheds.
“Good evening Balbus.”
He almost jumped out of his skin as he span and stared at the figure before him. The dark robes clinging to ancient skin, the Kindred was leaning against the cold metal shed holding a smouldering cigarette in his left hand.
'Nero? ...I thought you where dead.'
'Amusing Balbus, although that seems unlikely as I stand before you." Nero said with a hint of malice as he lifted up the cigarette and took a deep puff.
'You should watch it man, those things will kill you." chuckled the younger Kindred.
Nero glanced up, allowing Balbus his moment or mirth, as he blew smoke out into the cold air.
"I need you to get a message to Pontius."
Balbus' face darkened all sense of humour draining from his face.
"Hey I don't run with those dogs anymore, I..."
Nero glared at him cutting his lies dead in the mouth, the aura of presence glowed around the Fallen as he stared into the blackened sockets of Balbus and a tidal wave of dread struck at the lesser Vampires heart.
"I am not playing games Balbus, this is a message of utmost importance, I do not care how you do this, but you must let Pontius know."
Balbus Stumbled to one knee with the weight of the aura upon him, before finally nodding weakly.
"I will get the message to him, it might take weeks, but I'll do it."
"Good... good" grinned Nero as he stepped forward discarding the cigarette with the flick of a finger. Grasping Balbus by the collar he yanked to his feet staring into his eyes with a wild look within his own.
"You will tell him Scarlett is a child of Caine."
Balbus looked confused.
"A Vampire, so what, we all are, what's the big... urk" he was stopped mid sentence by Nero grasping his throat and squeezing hard. His anger and glee seemed to intermingle as he spoke.
"You fool, I do not speak so liberally, she is A CHILDE, a childe of Caine. Now go, tell him."
Releasing Balbus, Nero turned and walked toward the roof access door, the bewildered Vampire staring at his back as he left. Balbus wasn't sure why Nero was so eager for this news to pass over, but he guessed the Childes of Caine didn't grow on trees. Picking himself up he ran to the edge and leapt, falling a few feet towards the tarmac four hundred feet below, before he was replaced by a black raven that squawked loudly and took to the night sky.
Nero stepped into the emergency stairwell and paused glancing to Scarlett who was standing against the wall, her eyes narrowed, uncertain.
“Did you tell him?”
Nero grinned.
“Of course, now we continue as planned before we make preparations to visit the old lands.”
Scarlett looked back out at the night sky and looked at the glow that shrouded most of the stars above. She was walking an unknown path, a possible trap, death or chaos would await them in the old world, but also perhaps. She glanced back at Nero, the older Vampire looking her over, she could tell he was evaluating her, as always.
“Are you sure this is the best course of action.”
“Yes, perhaps the only path you have left. She grows stronger, it will not be long before she hunts you again.”
Scarlett nodded, and the two Kindred began back down the stairwell, they had a lot of work to do.
... but would his logical (maybe stepping a bit too far) mind realise that Dez is only using his M9, and thus does not always use his wolf form unless when there is a need, and that he is good?
Nah, he ain't that smart...
... and on that note Nachos is offline...
... bummer...
... may have to read it tomorrow if he doesn't do the post tonight...
...The two wolves had spotted the American Nrajah as he stopped to have his motorcycle serviced...
They had recieved orders from Jarin himself that the American was to be taken alive, and though this frustrated them both...they knew better than to disobey an Alphas orders...
Patiently they waited, watching as the Nrajah spoke with the old mechanic and departed on his bike...cautiously they followed..soon arriving at a lodging house..
Waiting for the Nrajah to enter the two exited their vehicle and crossed the street..
" There's a tavern bellow the rooms" the larger wolf said..." We'll take a table in there...off to the back...surely he will come down ."
The second wolf shook his head " We should follow him up...take him now.."
" Patience Uri.." The first wolf said sternly " Surely the Nrajah will come down for a meal...or a drink at least...besides...I'm hungry."
" Your always hungry " Uri said following his companion into the dim tavern.
Shortly after locating a table the two wolves watched as the American entered the tavern, he seated himself and ordered...then seemed to drift thought..
" We shall wait...and follow him up to his room...catch him in the elevator perhaps..." Uri said.
" Nyet" the larger wolf replied..." I have a plan.."
Soon the American stood, seeming troubled...he exited the tavern..
" Now.." The large wolf said..." You follow him ...but not to close...I will take the stairs and catch him when he gets off the elevator.."
" Remember.." Uri said.." Jarin wants him taken alive.."
" I am aware of that Uri..." The large wolf snarled as he rushed for the stairway...
@ WARORK...you've picked up a tail (pardon the pun)...
Upon doing your next RP, the two wolves will be revealed to you and a player event will take place.
Ok guys...that's the set ups for two player events from me today...not to shabby for an old man with a busted back.
I've got ideas for two more cooking...just have to see the direction a few PCs next RPs go.
Player; Catos Character; Jimmy Armstrong Race and clan/archetype; Unaffiliated Physical Description; Black spiky hair with red highlights. Strong build. Wears red jacket and black leather jeans and a punk belt Equipment; Silver capped nails, Uzi, short blades, anti sun charm Back story; Jimmy was turned into a vampire at age 21 in 1000 B.C and has been wandering the world since. He has been present at many worldwide catastrophes and accidents and has since earned the title as a bearer of ill omen, a title he carries this day. He somehow is able to shift his bad luck on to other people when he feels necessary. After the events of Empire City, Jimmy realized the savagery of the werewolf kind, despite being able to hold off his races hatred for werewolves (he only dislikes werewolves now out of a personal choice rather than the blood feud) and has since decided to become prepared in case he would ever be caught by werewolves again. He was responsible for the death of the Hunter master Colt, losing one of his vampire underlings (and his love interest) in the process. He was infuriated by this and has since been looking for the one who killed her. He arrived in Czechoslovakia after following a trail that a Hunter group was present in the country and has narrowed down his search to the city of Prague, apprehensive of the catastrophe that is sure to follow. Other info: Following in the footsteps of his old love interest, he has begun to read the entire works of Shakespeare (his favourite is The Merchant of Venice, his favourite character is Shylock). Virtue- Light Side- Jimmy in his usual state is usually cool and calculated and generally calm. Vice- Dark Side- When Jimmy gets very sad or becomes very emotional he could “flip” revealing his dark, generic vampire mood and becomes a merciless killing machine. Special Powers: Mind Control, Changing into Gas, Blood Magic Spells.
Harlow was frantically thinking about his next move. He moved back into the lobby pondering. Perhaps he should just get his things and plan on leaving? No, he still needed to take care of a few things before he left town, besides that was in another town, who knew how soon or how late the hunters would end up here? It could take them days, besides, he didn't know of any specific hunter that was looking for him.
The wolves were a different story, more and more, he was regretting having confronted that one wolf. He was sure even though he had found their tracking bug, they would find him sooner than the hunters would and then....
Well, he tried not to think about that...
Harlow took the stairs up to his room, he needed to make sure he had his things with him in case he needed to leave. He went inside, closed the door, locked it. He didn't know why, but he felt a sudden sense of urgency in his actions, he saw his bag on the bed and picked it up...
That was when the scent became noticeable...
His head swiveled around, he was sure, right outside that door, there was more than one and he was cornered. He saw the shadows of the presences outside the room, he had no time left. The choice had been made for him. Fight his way out of this or surrender.
Harlow's hands opened the bag and found his other pistol which he holstered and his rifle which he picked up. There was already a silver 30-06 round in the chamber he knew, not enough to kill a wolf outright usually, but maybe if he got lucky...
Harlow kneeled and took aim where he thought a head might pop through the door, he wasn't about to go down without a fight, he'd been at this for too long to quit now...
...Love it.
...
(if you don't understand after the next 
Really, what gave you that impression? 
)
