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Post by Bhunivelze on Aug 15, 2013 22:09:07 GMT -5
OT: Atlantis is posting first as she has the villain, when she posts, you guys can start.
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Post by atlantis on Aug 15, 2013 23:03:25 GMT -5
Alise
She had been wandering this puddle of a city for several weeks now, in search of any signs of the witches she'd been told were living here. And until yesterday, Alise had found nothing. To top it all off, Seattle only reminded her of London with its constant rain and chilly temperatures. She hated being there but it was the only lead she had for finding some way to rid herself of her pain.
But finally, she had found what she was looking for. She spotted an old woman that hardly seemed worth the trouble of capturing, walking along the sidewalk in her direction. But something flashed in Alise's mind; she wasn't sure if it was a memory, a premonition, a sense... but she knew something was special about the old lady. She had followed the woman in the shadows until she found her house. She laid in wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. When the woman came back outside to enjoy the night air before she went to sleep, Alise leapt on her, rendering her unconscious with a swift and unapologetic blow to the head.
And now, as the woman awoke before her, she finally felt confident she had found the key to her freedom at last. "You know what I am, right?" she asked as her captive gained her focus. Alise's face twisted so it was no longer human. "And I know what you are." She circled the chair where the old lady was bound, in the basement of an abandoned building Alise had made her own upon arrival. "The rules are simple. You remove my soul, and I won't drain every ounce of your blood."
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Post by Bhunivelze on Aug 16, 2013 19:47:04 GMT -5
Celia
She had just left Starbucks to say hi to Connie when she was walking to the nearest park as she usually did this time of evening. However, when a young woman started staring at her, Celia started home instead. Being as influential as she was in the city, even though she wasn't involved in politics, it wasn't uncommon for her to be targets of political crimes. Being as Liberal as she was she had found herself on a couple Democratic Hate websites. She had even had one of her cars broken into with "Kill the Witch" painted on the hood. She just smiled, she really didn't mind being called a witch. In fact she kinda liked it. The culprit turned out to be a 15 year old girl, so Celia was sure to keep an eye out on everyone that opposed her beliefs.
She made it home safely and didn't see the girl again so she figured she was safe. Connie had said that he would be working late tonight and would be going out to see a movie. She didn't much care, it was a Saturday and it was hard to tell Connie no. She knew that her daughter did some wrong things in the past but they still affected her grandson. She didn't want to seem overbearing in any way so she made sure to only tell Connie 'no' on things she knew were wrong. She got on her favorite green and black night gown and her slippers and went out to the balcony of her penthouse. She could see the city and all its residents, but she never saw the woman sneak behind her and attack her.
She awoke, bound in a chair with a stunning young woman in front of her.
"You know what I am, right?" the woman asked.
"V-- Vampire." Celia said groggily. This wasn't her first run in with an undead. She had killed a few in her day, but that was when she had her abilities. Being bound like this, and without her magics, she knew this wasn't good.
"And I know what you are." she said as she circled the chair. "The rules are simple. You remove my soul, and I won't drain every ounce of your blood."
"You obviously don't know me as well as you think Vampire. I'm just an old woman with too much money. I lost that power long ago. Connie'll..." She stopped. She always had a problem with giving away more information than needed. Sometimes it worked in her favor, other times, not much.
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Post by Bhunivelze on Aug 16, 2013 20:41:33 GMT -5
Connie & Rainer
"Here's your order Miss. Congrats, it's the last order of the day." Connie said cheerfully as he gave the Vanilla Chai Latte to the young woman as she walked out of the store. He cleaned up the counter and noticed a familiar face over on the coach reading a book. He walked out from behind the counter while taking his apron and visor off. "Uh, Rainer? We're closing in like, well, now actually." he said looking down at his watch. "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."
Rainer looked up from his book to a smiling Connie. Despite their drastic age difference, not even counting the whole vampire thing, he and the boy had developed a friendship of sorts. It started out just by Rainer frequenting the coffee shop. But one day when business was slow, Connie and Rainer had the opportunity to talk about different authors they liked. Since then they started just talking about an assortment of different things. "It's no problem. Besides I think my brain has OD'd on coffee."
Connie smiled, "Hey, I'm going out to see 'Now You See Me', it's like illusionists steal from the rich kinda thing. You wanna go? Prices are cheap."
"Uh, Connie. Don't you think it would be a little weird for a grown man to go see a movie with a 15 year old?" Rainer asked. Well, in this age, it wouldn't be uncommon for the two to go out on the town together. Still, it was a little weird.
Connie flushed, "I'm not asking you out on a date! I just get the impression that you don't get out much. I was just wondering if you wanted to go." He said quick.
"Oh! Um... sure. Why not?"
"Great! I'm going to have to go to my house and get some money, but it's just down the road. You can come along if you want. My gran won't mind."
"Yeah, sure." Rainer said as he stood up. He and Connie walked out of the shop as the manager was closing up.
__10-ish minutes later__
"Come on in, just be quiet. My Gran should be asleep. I'll be back in flash."
Rainer appreciated being invited in, however the sign on the front door said "Welcome In" which was good enough for him. He looked around the room. It was incredibly modern. Lot's of white and occasional streaks of blue's and purple's on the furniture. The balcony was the most impressive part. Beautiful plants surrounded the entire patio. But a small red stain on the ground is what stood out to him the most. He smelt that it was blood but, another stench was on the patio. Vampire. While he was realizing this his young friend came running out to the patio.
"She's gone!"
"Connie, calm down. Are you sure she's not just out somewhere?" He said while stepping on the red stain to hide it. Trying to stop Connie from panicking even more than he was. But in reality, Rainer was panicking too.
"No she... her slippers are gone. She always puts on her slippers then comes out here to look over the city once more before she comes back inside and falls asleep. Her door was open too. This isn't anything like her." Connie was starting to hyperventilate. How could someone just take her like that?
"Connie, call the cops. I'll go down and ask around for her." As Connie started to head for the phone Rainer went out the door and down the elevator. This was bad. A vampire attack is never good, but for one to abduct someone? This isn't good. As he left he saw a sign for Turner Records. While he was impressed that he had kept it a secret for as long as he did, Turner Forsythe was easy to recognize to a Vampire. A vampire with that much money would have some connections. Rainer planned to locate him and ask if he had heard of anything about vampires kidnapping people from their home. But he was getting really hungry. First thing in the morning. First thing in the morning I'll find Turner.
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Post by atlantis on Aug 16, 2013 21:04:08 GMT -5
Turner
"--to Dave in the weather center. How's it look out there, Dave?"
Turner stirred at the sound of his TV coming on, providing his morning wake-up call. He stared at the screen bleary-eyed for a moment as the weather man gave his prognosis.
"It's looking to be one of those rare and beautiful sunny days, Margaret. Highs in the upper 70s and a..."
"Great," Turner groaned. There was a knock at his door; Ava with breakfast. Though he didn't need to eat, he had found he missed waking up to breakfast and Ava saw to that need wonderfully. "Come in."
She entered with a tray full of the usual foods with the addition of a medical pouch filled with pig's blood. (He had the pouches delivered by mail and the blood.... well, he knew people.) She sat it on the bed and watched the television, which had moved on to the morning's stories. "Hey, I know her," she said as the face of an elderly woman was flashed on the screen.
Turner glanced back at the news to see, halfway through the pouch already. "You know Celia Wilkinson?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah. Why, don't you?" she replied with a shrug. When he shook his head, she grabbed a piece of bacon from his tray and bit into it. "Huh. I just thought all rich people knew each other and went to galas and tested wine and... y'know. Did rich stuff."
"Race our Rolls Royces twice around the block before our caviar parties?" he added, tongue-in-cheek. Ava only made a face that said 'ooh, when are we gonna do that?' before taking one of his biscuits. "Oh, sorry, how rude of me. Would you like something to drink with the rest of my breakfast?" Turner offered the second half of the blood bag with a toothy grin and she turned away in revolt.
"Gross. No." Ava returned her attention to the story on the Wilkinson lady. "I guess I should go offer my condolences later," she mused.
"She'll be back," Turner announced matter-of-factly. "If I were her, I'd want to disappear for a while too. She probably took a surprise vacation to Honolulu." He'd like to go to Honolulu, too, now that he thought of it. But it was too hot and the sun was too strong. Instead he just took little mental trips to the islands, where every time he was greeted with a yellow lei by girls in hula skirts. It was probably nothing like that. But that's the fun of a mental vacation.
"I don't know," Ava said, bringing him out of his thoughts. "She gets death threats a lot. It's not unlikely that something terrible has happened to her. I think this calls for a cake." She took another slice of bacon and left the room thoughtfully.
Alise
---Skip back to the night before---
"Connie?" Alise latched onto the name. "No. You--you're trying to throw me off!" She slapped Celia hard across the face. "You're lying. You have great power. I can feel it." She had looked so long for an answer to her problem and now that one was sitting right in front of her, she refused to let the old woman's deceit take it away.
"Look, I'm trying to be nice. I won't kill you if you do as I ask. Immediately," she said quietly. "It was filthy people like you that cursed me like this. So you should be able to take it back. I need you to do it. Now."
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Post by Bhunivelze on Aug 17, 2013 13:45:23 GMT -5
Celia
"People like me? I told you, I don't have that power! And what do you mean "take your soul" You're a vampire!" The woman said sternly. She wasn't going to be intimidated by some undead, little harlot.
"And even if I could take away your soul, I'd rather die than help one of your kind!"
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Post by atlantis on Aug 17, 2013 22:41:00 GMT -5
Alise
Alise laughed shrilly. "Oh, one of my 'kind'? Don't you know what your pathetic race is capable of? At least you can trust that I'll always be this way. Humans on the other hand," she sneered, "you're all loose canons."
She still couldn't figure out why she had chosen this lady, and she began to doubt herself the longer they talked. "Take yourself for example. You pretend to be this helpless little old lady, when you're really...." Alise let the sentence trail off as she studied Celia's face carefully.
Her face was so familiar. She could see it somewhere in her past. Flashes of decorative lights and fireworks, the sound of a crowd huddled together on wet streets to watch the large clock tower. "You were there," she mumbled to herself.
She lunged forward and grabbed Celia's shoulders tightly. "You were there!" she said more loudly and grabbed a fistful of the woman's hair. "How have you lived this long? Are you one of us, too?" She realized suddenly that she was crying and she let go, turning away from Celia to hide her weakness.
She regathered her senses, explaining to herself that there was some sort of flaw in her memory. Maybe the old witch just had a plain face. There was no way she could have been there when her soul was reinstated. And even if it were possible... what difference did it make? "Who is Connie?" she asked instead.
OT: Mental breakdowns FTW!
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Post by Zabby on Aug 17, 2013 23:14:33 GMT -5
Mason "We adore you, O Christ, and we praise you because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world," Mason muttered to himself bowing towards the direction of the rising sun. He closed the book of the Liturgy of the Hours he was holding with a small slam. These daily prayers were pretty much the only thing that connected him to his faith. It was frustrating that he could no longer participate in the faith that he accepted to be true. He could not receive any of the Sacraments and even entering a Church made him uncomfortable. He could handle it, but it was too much of a stress to try to join a congregation in worship there.
Looking out the window of the small room he was staying at in the rectory of the St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church, Mason saw that it would be a clear say. He signed. "Another sunny day in paradise," he muttered to himself ruefully. He closed the curtains now and walked over to his closet. He frowned when he saw the Dominican robes hanging there. He had been sent here for an reconnaissance mission. Mason had to incognito, so he wasn't allowed to wear his order's robes. He held onto the dark black fabric longer, wishing he could just slip into their comfort. Even though Mason had his soul for over one hundred years now, he was always afraid of slipping back to that person he was after he turned, and the habit was always an outward sign of his dedication not to.
Mason let go of the fabric and grabbed a large overcoat instead. It was a coat that could cover his whole body, plus he had long sleeves and long pants on. Putting a wide brimmed hat over his head and sunglasses on, Mason let out a bemused humph. He really didn't look any less conspicuous in this get up than he would have in his habit, but Mason had his orders. He was supposed to find out about the vampire influx in the area, and he planed to start by talking to the known vampire of the area, Turner Forsythe, of Forsythe records.
Grabbing his protective gloves and a briefcase full of vampire hunting equipment, Mason packed a few bags of frozen animal blood into his briefcase. He would be out all day today and probably wouldn't have time to come back home to feed. After triple checking to make sure he had everything he need, Mason chugged a bag of blood for his breakfast and set out for the record tycoon's house.
After walking essentially across town to this man's house, Mason walked right up to the door and rang the doorbell. He was hoping the man himself would answer so that he wouldn't have to invent an excuse to get around an ignorant house keeper.
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Post by purplemunster94 on Aug 18, 2013 0:16:56 GMT -5
Ryan
Ryan woke up exhausted, as usual. Normally he worked before classes, meaning open, then after, meaning close. He had closed the night before and now was heading in to open. Of course, living in such a busy place Starbucks opened at 6am, meaning Ryan had to be there at 5. He rolled out of bed and took a quick shower. He never had time for anything anymore. He threw on his work uniform and made his way out to his car.
After a few minutes he arrived at the Starbucks before everyone. His manager didn't usually open, he always had an excuse, but Ryan was almost positive it was because he didn't want to wake up. Ryan unlocked the door and locked it behind him, starting up the radio as his normal routine allowed. After a few songs the radio went to the announcers,
Please, excuse our normal show for a very important announcement.Celia Wilkinson, still missing from her home. The search is ongoing. If you know anything about this incident please notify the police immediately.
Ryan almost dropped the stack of cups he was carrying. Mrs. Wilkinson? Granted, he had only met her a few times, but Connie talked about her a lot. Ryan placed the cups in the area they were assigned, and listened to the radio, he knew Connie had to be in a state of panic.
Mrs. Wilkinson was reportedly taken from her home late last night.
Ryan sat heavily on one of the chairs. He had heard of many incidents where people would mysteriously disappear, but never had someone so close to home been taken suddenly. He glanced down at his watch, it was too early to call Connie and check in, besides the early morning rush was getting ready to come, and he was the only one working at the moment. He was positive that the kid wouldn't come into work, so Ryan decided that he would skip his classes to check in on him, maybe take him some comfort food. Ryan almost chuckled at this thought, he had absolutely no idea how to cook, all he was good at was making caffeinated beverages. When costumers started coming Ryan forced himself to put the whole incident in the back of his mind, which was seeming to be a very difficult situation.
OT: I'm gonna figure a way to make an intro post for Em....I've got nothin right now.
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Post by atlantis on Aug 18, 2013 10:26:22 GMT -5
Turner
Turner had climbed out of bed earlier than usual that morning and gone to his study to work, but he couldn't focus on numbers when the day was still so young. He opened the curtains slightly (almost despite himself, he didn't hate the sun, just its effects) and retrieved a violin from its case-- not the old heirloom he had carried for nearly two centuries now, but a newer one. He suspected if he played his grandfather's fiddle it would collapse from all its history.
He had hardly made it halfway through one melody when the doorbell rang, but he didn't let it bother him. He continued in the knowledge that Ava would answer and send whoever it was away until a more appropriate hour. Like never.
He was bothered, however, when instead her voice sailed through the house asking him to get it. The bow screeched across the strings in frustration as he drew a sigh. He placed the instrument on his desk and went downstairs, through the foyer and to the door. Outside was a strange figure, wearing an outlandish outfit complete with hat. He pulled his sleeves over his hands and shielded his face with one arm before opening the door. "If you're selling something, we don't want any and if you're proselytizing, I've already got this month's pamphlets. Thanks."
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Post by atlantis on Aug 18, 2013 11:16:44 GMT -5
Mason A smile grew on Mason’s face. He really lucked out with the man coming to the door himself. It allowed Mason to cut to the chase.
“I’m not here for either of those things Mr. Forsythe. I know that you’re an ensouled vampire, and I have matters to discuss with you regarding that. Will you please invite me in,” Mason said bluntly hoping he would not having to play any stupid games.
Turner
His shoulders slouched a little. He should have known the visitor was a vampire; no one would wear that unless they absolutely had to. It was getting warm standing in front of the door and he was tired of holding his arm up. “Yeah, fine, come in.”
He led the guest into the living room and offered him a seat. “Ava, I need a tea, please!” he called into the next room. “Would you like anything?”
Mason Stepping into the house and closing the door behind him, Mason slid off his coat, hat, and glasses. “Thank you,” he said politely.
He followed Turner to the living room and sat where the man indicated. When he was offered tea, he shook his head and said, “No thank you.”
There was a slight pause when Mason decided the direct approach was best. Even though he had lived for 400 years, he still hated to waste time. “Mr. Forsythe, have you ever heard of the Venator Striga?”
Turner
Ava entered with a steaming cup of black tea as the smell of baking cake began to waft in from the kitchen. “Anything else?” she asked, giving curious glances to their guest.
“No, that’s it,” Turner dismissed. When she left he took a seat and blew lightly on the drink to cool it. “I know a bit about them. But I haven’t done anything to warrant their attention, surely. At least, not in a long while.”
Mason “No, not you specifically,” Mason replied honestly. “Although you being in the public eye with this company is a little worrisome, but I didn’t come here to scold you about keeping your secrets. I was wondering if you’ve had any encounters with or heard anything about our less enlightened kinfolk. We’ve heard reports that there is a large gathering of them in this city.”
Turner
He took a small sip from the cup before answering. “The city is large and its weather is perfect. It’s not by chance that I chose to live here. I would imagine others would migrate here for the same reason.” Turner thought some more of what he had seen recently.
The Venator was right; there had been more of their kind lately, and more murders for that matter. “I can tell you, most of the attacks have happened in the north of the city. It would be easier to stay hidden there in the old buildings. Besides, society tends to notice less when it’s poor people who come up missing.” His mind jumped to Celia Wilkinson. If she weren’t as wealthy or powerful, would she have shown up as the headline story this morning?
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Post by Marli on Aug 20, 2013 1:42:33 GMT -5
Saki Yasuhara
"It's not like I want to leave this place..." Saki sighed, tossing the last of her desk nick-nacks into a box on the floor before turning back to her computer. "But it really sounds like a great offer... And with money like that? It would really help with my dad's medical bills..." Saki looked down at a picture of her family that she'd thrown into the box. In it her father stood tall with Saki on his shoulders. Strong as Kenjii Yasahura had once been he was not so any longer. Two heart attacks and a prolonged struggle with alcoholism had left him weak and debilitated. Though the stubborn man still insisted on living alone, Saki paid for a caretaker to come out twice a week to help him around the house and several hospital bills remained unpaid. "Maybe I could even start thinking about college again."
The other receptionist* looked skeptical. "I still don't like it. No one offers a job like that without seeing a resume and the fact he doesn't want you to tell us his name is just... It sounds sketchy Saki."
"He just doesn't want to make Mr. Forsyth upset.. since they know each other" Even as she said it Saki knew she sounded ridiculous but she stood firm. "I know it sounds bad... But you didn't meet him..." Saki's voice trailed off slightly at the thought of her new employer. "He seemed very kind almost... mesmerizing." It had been late in the evening when Saki had first run into the mysterious Mr. Nathan Snow. Run into, of course, being the opportune descriptor.
* * * Flashback 15ish Days Prior * * *
As a rule, citizens of the Rainy City don't carry umbrellas and Saki was no exception. With the sound of rain on the roof growing to a dull roar, and with three binders precariously balanced in the crook of her right arm, and the clock on the wall reading 8:55 {seven minutes before she had to catch a bus four blocks away} Saki was beginning to regret this habit. A coworker looked at her with pity. "I can give you a ride, if you need it." But Saki was already backing out the front door into the gusting winds.
"Thanks but I can still catch it if I... ah!"
The collision between the two pedestrians registered as a jumbled series of sounds and sensations. The sound of rain. The feeling of losing balance. Papers falling. Something hollow sounding hitting the ground. The sight of a silver bird, likely a falcon, falling in front of her eyes. The metallic sound of that same bird against the sidewalk. Next came a tangle of limbs and apologies. "I'm so sorry!" "No, the fault is mine! I should know better than to stand in the middle of a walkway."
The bird, she saw, was the top of an ornate cane. The thin, elegant kind well-to-do men carried in old movies. Saki reached for the cane while the man gathered up the binders. He rose first, then offered his hand. "Are you alright?"
At last Saki looked up. He was a tall, thin man, wearing a tailored suit below a long coat. In his right hand he held what looked like a violin case, likely the hollow 'thump' Saki had heard earlier. His eyes were a icy blue, both concerned and soulful. His voice was soft, gentle. The words took a moment to register. "I'm fine." Saki said quickly, heat rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment. She took the offered binders and returned the cane. "Are you ok? I hope I didn't hurt your instrument..."
"All four limbs accounted for." The man said, offering a shy smile. He opened the case, revealing an ancient looking violin made from a strange black wood. "And it looks like this old thing made it as well." He closed the case gently, "Good thing too, I can be stitched back together without much trouble but this... this is one is more delicate." He turned back to Saki. "You must work for Turner, to be as concerned for an instrument as for it's owner." He then offered his hand to shake and Saki took it. "I'm Nathan by the way. Nathan Snow."
"Oh... I'm... uh... I'm Saki Yasahura." Saki could have kicked herself. She had always been a bit awkward in social situations, but not often to the point of tripping over her words. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Snow."
This he seemed to find amusing. "The pleasure is all mine Ms. Yasahura." The man looked down the street and, in a daze, Saki just stood next to him. "So Saki, are you meeting someone? Call me old fashioned but it seems rather late for a young woman like yourself to be out alone."
Suddenly Saki remembered her bus but a quick look at her watch revealed that she had likely missed it. The next one wouldn't be for another hour. "No," Saki sighed. "I was just about to walk home."
The man, Nathan, looked aghast. "In this weather?" He shook his head. "Saki, can I offer you a ride home? Or better yet how about dinner? It's the least I can do after dropping all your papers in to the mud..."
"Oh! Don't worry about it!" At the man's offer, Saki instantly felt defensive. Some sort of primal alarm system telling her to get away now. "It's not that far."
Nathan looked almost hurt. "I really must insist."
"I really can't. Well... I mean..." Suddenly a strange feeling was overtaking Saki, a fuzziness in the back of the mind. The heat of her reservation softened and Saki found that the idea was not so disagreeable. In fact she wanted, needed even, to go with this man. "I guess if it was close by..."
"Excellent." The man smiled, offering his arm in a gentlemanly fashion. Saki found herself walking down the street with him, not entirely sure why she'd agreed to his idea in the first place. Nathan rambled on as they walked. "I've never been to the place, mind you, but I've heard it's a nice little cafe and I'm not usually on this side of town..."
The rest of the evening passed in the same trance like state. Nathan had brought her to a tiny, but high end, restaurant. She'd ordered a pasta dish while he picked at a salad. Later Saki would realize that the man had not touched his food at all. Their moved from the mundane {You have a labradoodle? I have spaniels! We should get them together!} to the more serious {What did you say your brothers did?} and the evening passed quickly with Nathan doing most of the talking. She told him about her job at Turner Records, her brothers, her father's medical issues. The words came with a strange ease. Of Nathan she learned very little. But she did learn that he was the son of the late Robert Snow of Snow Industries. That he'd trained in medicine before returning to his father's business. She learned that he'd been at Turner Records that evening to offer Turner the violin {Oh yes, Turner would appreciate the workmanship} and that the instrument was over 100 years old and worth tens of thousands of dollars. She learned that he disliked the noise of the city, that he found birds fascinating, that he hated boats and was afraid of flying and that he'd had a brother that he hadn't seen in many years. When the check came, Nathan paid, then hailed a cab in front of the restaurant and handed the driver a fifty dollar bill.
"Saki, I have a question for you." He said softly as she entered the cab. "A... Well, A proposition of sorts."
"Proposition?"
Quickly he'd explained the job. He needed someone to keep his calendar and remind him of his appointments. Someone to keep his house and to walk his dogs. "An assistant of sorts." He finished. "Someone I can trust... And I feel like I can trust you Saki, which is very rare, in this city. It's a fairly low key job and I can pay you well... Much more than you were earning at Turner Records."
"Oh... well, I'd need to give the company my two weeks notice."
"Not a problem."
"And I can't usually work Monday afternoons."
"We can make arrangements."
Saki had begun to pull the door closed, the same feeling of unease as before descending upon her. "I'll think about it."
"Sounds good." He reached into his coat pocket. "Here, take my card." He smiled at her again. "Just think about it.... Oh... And Saki?"
"Yes?"
"If you do decide to come work with me, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Turner about our arrangement... We don't play together often but when we do I enjoy it, I'd hate for that to go south because of this."
The request seemed odd, but Saki nodded. "Ok, I will."
With that Nathan shut the door and tapped on the roof of the cab. Saki turned the card over in her hand. Before the cab had even reached the next stoplight she had made her decision.
OT - My thought would be that 'the other receptionist' here would be Katie but it could also be another random person in the room. The relationship I'm setting up between Nathaniel and Turner is more of an acquaintanceship. They meet occasionally to play together or to see a show. Turner would realize that Nat is a vamp, but not necessarily that he still drinks human blood. If this isn't ok I'll edit. I know I need to finish Saki's profile but I will in the morning! Basically, her father and older brothers are all in the business of hunting supernaturals but Saki is unaware. Hope this post wasn't too confusing!
Marcus
Streetlights passed like flashes of lightning as Marcus leaned closer over the Kawasaki Ninja that that hummed between his legs. Though he'd never ridden that particular style of bike before, Marcus was impressed. With careful tinkering the motorcycle had been shaped into a roaring beast of a machine. It handled the speed he had been craving with ease and with his superhuman reflexes handled well through the curves and irregular pavements of Seattle's North Side. It's previous owner, however, had been less extraordinary.
He had been a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, average height, stringy and covered in tattoos. With such a bike in his possession, Marcus had expected at least a bit of a fight but he had been disappointed. As soon as Marcus had started goading him, the boy had turn and run. The vampire had considered just letting the kid go, after all, he had fed recently. But when the boy had drawn a cellphone, intending to call the police, Marcus decided to kill him. It was over in a matter of seconds. He'd drawn a knife first, severing the boys airway to prevent him from screaming. Then he'd gone for the open wound, draining the boy entirely of blood. After the first cut the boy offered very little resistance.
It hadn't felt very sporting at all.
Marcus slowed the bike and dimmed the headlight as he entered the compound where Alise had asked him to meet her. The place, for now, was deserted and smelled heavily of engine oil and fish. A late evening mist had left the concrete around the buildings slick and shining. He located warehouse number three, then walked the bike quietly in the back entrance.
The woman, Celia Wilkinson, was facing him on the far side of the building. Alise, who currently stood with her back to him, had already bound her though as of yet it looked like she hadn't inflicted much injury on the witch. Celia was speaking, ""And even if I could take away your soul, I'd rather die than help one of your kind!"
Marcus almost laughed at this comment. It was so typically human. His smirk faded as Alise spoke. The female vampire, he could see, was shaking badly. Her voice drawn to a higher pitch than usual, suggesting irritation or worse, fear. "Oh, one of my 'kind'? Don't you know what your pathetic race is capable of? At least you can trust that I'll always be this way. Humans on the other hand," she sneered, "you're all loose canons. Take yourself for example. You pretend to be this helpless little old lady, when you're really...." Alise let the sentence trail off, then said quietly "You were there." She lunged forward and grabbed Celia's shoulders tightly. "You were there!" she said more loudly and grabbed a fistful of the woman's hair. "How have you lived this long? Are you one of us, too?" She realized suddenly that she was crying and she let go, turning away from Celia to hide her weakness.
Now Marcus stepped forward. He had thought that Alise would have noticed his entrance, but her next actions proved him to be mistaken. Perhaps it was Alise, not Celia, who was the loose canon.
Alise turned back to the witch. "Who is Connie?"
Marcus dropped the motorcycle helmet on a stack of boxes to Alise's right, alerting both woman to his presence. "Is she giving you trouble, darling?" Marcus said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. The 'darling' was more a statement of familiarity than any romantic relationship between the two. Marcus had had many lovers over the years, both human and vampires alike but Alise... Alise was different. She fascinated him. Her plans and ideas for the future of vampires, her zeal and her passion for their kind. For now, the were merely partners, but even in the dim florescent lighting of the warehouse Marcus found his eyes drawn to the curvature of her spine, the light dancing in water that clung to her neck. Sometimes he wished for something more. "Sorry I'm late." He turned to Alise and let his lips brush lightly above her ear before returning to Celia. "You'd do best to start talking... Witch." His eyes grew dark and a razor smile grew across his mouth. He drew the knife from earlier and brought it too his lips, holding it steady for a moment before licking off the boys blood. He examined the now shining knife briefly before bringing it close below Celia's ear and drawing the cool metal down her cheek. He wouldn't draw blood, not yet anyway, but he relished in the fear that grew in her eyes. The sound of her heartbeat quickening and the smell of adrenaline on her skin. "I've never been a patient man."
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Post by Marli on Aug 20, 2013 15:25:28 GMT -5
Nathaniel Reynesford
Nathaniel awoke with a throbbing headache, a stiffness in his joints, and the nagging feeling that something was going to happen today. A sliver of light beneath the heavy blackout drapes alerted him that it was already mid-morning and, worse, that it was one of those rare sunny days for which most of Seattle lived for. Nathaniel groaned and turned over, burying his face in his pillow. Usually, he left Seattle in the summer precisely to avoid the continual days of sun but this year the fact that Snow Industries had established a second research hospital in the city had forced him to stay. Even with his reputation of being a recluse Nathaniel, or rather Nathan Snow, had been unable to avoid all the press conferences and gala's that such an event brought along with it. Gatherings of this sort wore on him greatly, overpowering his senses and aggravating his already fragile nerves. He had attended last nights event with his token reluctance. He'd shaken the necessary hands of course, talked with benefactors about Snow Industries future plans, smiled for endless photos, sat for interviews with the press, danced with the daughters of board members, but the entire event had left him frazzled and faintly nauseated. By eleven o'clock he had retreated to a quiet corner with a strong drink, alone save for the occasional half-drunken party guest who seemed to wander across his table with the express purpose of testing his patience, and so also his resistance to the intoxicating scent of their blood.
For several minutes Nathaniel contemplated simply staying in bed. After all, it was not uncommon for the sallow faced man to lock himself away in his room for days, even weeks and there was Jeremiah to look after the dogs. Nathaniel's nose crinkled at the thought of the greasy, rat-faced man who cared for his birds. No, he would have to get up because otherwise Jeremiah would come up to check on him and he didn't think he could handle the sight of the beady-eyed groundskeeper, not to mention his smell. In truth, Nathaniel was repulsed by his loyal servant, the only person in the city save Turner Forsyth who knew his identity. The little man had sworn himself to Nathaniel's service on the condition that, after ten years, Nathaniel turn him into a vampire. Nathaniel had accepted reluctantly, unable to find another person he could trust with the knowledge to care for his birds. Still, the the thought of having the man in such close proximity was gag inducing, the idea of drinking his blood unbearable.
Despite the warm day outside, and that he would likely spend the day inside, Nathaniel dressed with his typical formal style. A black suit, blue tie, and shoes that could have paid a months rent in the average apartment downtown. He moved slowly and quietly, steadying himself on pieces of furniture before taking the falcon-topped cane that rested by the door. With a final resigned sigh, he moved from his private wing into the main section of the house.
For the moment, the elegant Seattle mansion was quiet. Jeremiah, he reasoned, must be taking the dogs, Hattie and Ophelia, on their morning stroll. He descended the tall front staircase, dark windows still drawn, and walked quickly across the entryway, through the formal dining room and into the kitchen. Jeremiah had set the morning's paper out for him alongside a tray containing a bowl of fruit, some toast, and an empty teacup. Nathaniel took the paper and left the rest, instead taking a new cup from the cabinet and starting a kettle of water. He read the cover story, a piece on the kidnapping of prominent city official Celia Wilkinson.
Interesting.
A few minutes later he moved to the parlor, paper clutched under one arm and a cup of steaming earl-grey in the other. This room, of all of them, was his favorite but the morning sun made it uncomfortable. The parlor was done up in classic style, filled with high-backed chairs, antique cabinets and a large grand piano set in one corner. What was most unique about the room, however, was the back wall which was entirely made up of a two story window, behind which his largest aviary was visible. Nathaniel kept a small menagerie of birds and other animals on his forty acre property, but this particular aviary was his favorite. Nearly 1400 square feet and twenty three feet in height, it housed a variety of tropical birds and plants, along with koi in ponds below. From his position in the doorway several lovebirds and a blue and gold macaw could be seen gliding idly from branch to branch. At night he would often sit alone in the aviary, but today the light from it was blinding. He pushed a button on the wall and a curtain covered the aviary, save for an area about two feet wide he left visible at the far end of the room. Nathaniel found his favorite chair and removed a small notebook from his pocket. He took a small sip of his tea then wrote a name in elegant script.
Celia Wilkinson
Why did the name sound so familiar?
OT - And done! I know Nathaniel is kind of just off on his own, but I'll move him in if I see a good place. Or someone can come to him. ^_^
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Post by Bhunivelze on Aug 21, 2013 15:53:44 GMT -5
Rainer
Waking up to your toes sizzling is never a good thing, and that's exactly what Rainer felt during the first hours of the day. He quickly scrunched his legs up to his chest as he looked out the window across the sea. He had found an abandoned dock in the northern part of the city. He had found some old furniture and a mattress from some thrift stores and put together a nice, albeit dirty, little home in one of the abandoned shacks. He rolled over in his bed and saw the crack in his wall. He groggily got up and moved an old plank from the back of the shack and leaned it against the crack. I'll deal with you later.
Seeing that it was going to be sunny, he put on a pair of long, black jeans and a black and white stripped pull-over sweater. He put on his favorite boots and put on a pair of black sunglasses. He looked a little strange, as most people would be in shorts and tank tops, but atleast he wasn't in a trench coat. He pulled up his hood and walked out of his shack. He had a promise to keep, and he never forgot a promise.
About an hour later the sun was blaring and Rainer had to be very careful of where he walked. He had managed to keep to the shadows until he got to Turner Forsyth's mansion. It was beautiful, it put his dingy little shack to shame. He walked to the front porch which conveniently had a shaded area all the way to the front door. Rainer knocked loudly on the door. He had to get information about Celia. For Connie's sake.
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Post by Bhunivelze on Aug 21, 2013 16:22:51 GMT -5
Celia
She tried her best to keep calm while her captor broke down. Why did she have to have her powers taken from her? She could be out of here and safely in her bed before this crazy she-vamp even noticed. But her boldness changed to fear when a much more frightening vampire came into the room. He was tall, attractive, but icy cold. Just like the knife he drug down her face.
"Fine! Connie is my grandson." She said in fear, but she wasn't going to sound like a scared old women, it wasn't in her nature. "You lay a hand on him and I will crawl out of the depths of the ocean which I'm sure you'll drop me in after you're done with me and I will personally rip both of your heads off. And I wasn't 'there' wherever the *expletive* it was! Are you sure you're not just delusional? I hear that age can do that to you." She said trying to take control of the situation. It wasn't working out too well considering she was still roped down to a chair. "And another thing! You call yourself vampires but they wouldn't show me any mercy like this. If you were real vampires I'd be dead by now. You two are just an insane wretch and her little *expletive*! Now I suggest you kill me now before--"
A spine tingling crack and Celia was dead. Her head dangled lifelessly for just a second before her head shot back up and a sickening scream released all of her dormant powers into the air with a white flash. The powers found their way to all the gifted humans in Seattle and granted them even stronger powers than they had ever had before.
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