Shadow's Pawn [PM to join]

[Blake]

For months Blake had kept to himself. A hermit of sorts. He did what had to be done and then had sat at that damnable forge night and day pounding away at scrap pieces of metal in hopes of being some kind of use to someone somewhere. There was far too much he needed to distract himself from as of late and the rhythmic pounding was something he could give himself over to, the concentration, the focus, and the need to prove himself was something that drown out everything else. He left his solitude only when it was absolutely necessary and even then it was only a brief sojourn in to the deep dark catacombs of the city in search of more relics of days gone by with which to bring death to others either by his own hand or the hands of others. It was a satisfying life. For the most part.

This night however, was far different. He had been pulled from his ordinary work by the sound of...something in the back of his mind. It was almost like the pounding of hammer on metal had followed him after so many long nights. There was something to it. Something that pulled at him and drove him out in to the city. Almost like a zombie he walked from his hut at The Eyrie and soon found himself standing at the platform of Swansdale Station. Before him rose the gleaming jewel of his own design, a testament to the true ego of a vampire long past his time. With so many lights still on in the apartments of Veil Tower he had to wonder how many of the tenants were like him in the sense that they too were immortal and needed to nourish themselves on the blood of the living. It brought a sick and twisted sort of smile to his face as the thoughts raced through his mind. Could he truly sneak in to each and every apartment in the building and slaughter every single one of them? Could he? Should he? Would it bring peace and security for him and those he cared for?

Taking a few steps forward he let himself in to his own building and continued to imagine what it would be like to leave so many piles of ash in beds or simply on floors as it seemed most vampires liked to sleep on. He found himself in the private elevator and moving slowly and silently towards the top floor of Veil. His own home. His everything. Or rather it had been. The place had been left in utter disrepair for months and his small...incident. His thoughts were interrupted once again by the pounding in his head. It was slow and methodical. Almost as if someone were standing beside him beating on a piece of metal right next to his ear. Clenching his fists he tried to put it from his mind, there was enough to worry about as of late that Blake really didn't need yet another issue rearing it's ugly head just yet. Looking up as the doors of the elevator opened his eyes looked around and took in the desolation that had been wrought by his own hand. The penthouse of Veil held none of the grandiose air or atmosphere that it once had, it was a stark contrast to the coolness and stylishness that it had once been. The tiles of the floor were cracked and shattered, the furniture was shredded and the stuffing lay about the floor. The lights were dead and from the ceiling hung wires and a few fixtures that had once illuminated the large area, all of it cast about by the winds that whipped through his 'home' from the broken and shattered glass window that had served as an entire wall at one point.

Where once there would have been glass to prevent a fall there now stood the aged vampire standing at the edge there. His fingers working over the shards of glass that were still stuck in the framing. A slight gasp as his finger pressed a bit too hard, a wisp of blackness rising in to the air as the wound began to almost instantly heal. A tilt of his head and then it all made sense as he watched that wisp of blackness fade and dissipate in to nothing. Everyone had been searching for the answer for so long and now...he had it. Why hadn't he thought of it before? And that was when he remembered. The pounding. It was...different but it was oh so familiar at the same time. He had felt it before but never had it actually had a 'sound' to it. He knew it all too well. It was himself. It was everything he was and everything he ever would be. He closed his eyes and listened. Listened in absolute silence....and there it was. That pounding. There in his mind and as much as it was horrid and he wished it would stop there was a reassuring comfort there to be found within. Of all his dreams and hopes and wishes, this one remained the same. This one had not left him. This one would be going no where any time soon.

Looking over his shoulder he grinned wickedly. He could feel the presence behind him, drawn by curiosity or by worry was Blake's wraith. Papa. Papa was a good man. Or had been. The wraith may have been a bit touched in the head but regardless, the entity had always been there when he needed someone to bounce ideas off of. Blake stepped away from the window and moved towards the distorted shape that was his wraith. Reaching through the shattered glass that had once been a display cabinet he pulled a wicked looking dagger from within, the blade covered in faeish symbols. Looking over the dark metal he pondered for a moment if what he wanted was actually plausible. Either way things were going to get very interesting very soon.

"Papa, there are a few people I need you to contact for me. Find them and bring them to the Abandoned Mansion up north. I will meet you there. It's time we perform a binding of our own I think."