**** this **** I'm out (Myk only)

[Arsenic (DELETED 6942)]

Drip... drip... drip...

The sound of water was what woke him. He'd never felt as bad as he did now, his head pouding like someone had started a jackhammer behind his skull, and everything from the night before was a blurr of colors and impressions.
He remembered meeting someone in the streets, but after that it was as if the hours between midnight and now had been cut out, run through a mixer, and then tossed back in. What had happened? Had he gotten drunk? Not likely, he rarely had more than a couple of shots, so why he suddenyl would have had that much to drink was beyond him.
His mouth tasted of mud and ashes, and a vague coppery undertone as if he had licked a handful of dirty nickles, but it didnt make sense.

Nothing at all made sense.

He sat up slowly, squinting as he tried to take in his surroundings. It was dark around him, and cramped. The walls arched up above him, made of stone and dirt. Below him the ground was rough and cold, briefly bringing the image of a cave to mind. But how he'd have ended up in a cave when he was in the city just a few hours ago was beyond him.
He managed to get his phone out of his pocket without too much movement, shock setting in as he saw that it was late evening. He had lost the full day!
He looked around a bit more closely, despite the pounding in his head, and slowly the realization came to him. It wasn't a cave, he was in the sewers!
He ran his fingers through his matted dark blonde hair, and down to rub the back of his neck. The side of his throat ached dully, as if it had become bruised somehow, and despite the darkness he could clearly make out that his previously white sweater and dark blue jeans were dirty and torn, like he had fallen or gotten caught on something, and he was missing one light grey sneaker, leaving him half barefoot.

Nic drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he tried to keep from freaking out, feeling more and more like he was just seconds from exploding into blind panic.
But instead of giving in to the near desperate need to scream, he laid back down on the cold ground, covering his face with his hands. He had now decided to not move, at least not until his head stopped hurting.

[Myk]

This night had had an interesting start. Myk was having fun toying and tormenting the latest member of the Deux Corbeaux with baseless accusations, but of course it was all over too soon for the clown’s enjoyment. Truth be told, he probably could have spent the entire night in play – the newbie was such an easy target after all – but such as it was that connections drop so quickly and one has to return to their own solitary world. Thus, Myk had decided to return to his duties; scouring the sewers in pursuit of Hunters and Paladins. He wasn’t sure why he tracked them exactly – it wasn’t entirely in his nature to seek violence – but then again, Myk had an excess of energy and if he couldn’t drain his body of it in one manner, he would have to drain it in another. Myk justified his indiscriminate slaughter of both men and women with this bizarre notion of retaliation, but that wasn’t always true and wasn’t always the case. While it was a fact that Hunters and Paladins attacked his kind on sight, Myk didn’t always wait for the men and women to see him, to shoot at him, before he broke into action. In fact, it was his intent always to catch them off guard, to slit their throats before they even knew he was there. In this effort, Myk employed many of his techniques and supernatural gifts, including his newest ability; an act of disappearing into shadows…

Attacking with the speed and invisibility of a bat didn’t necessarily mean you were always going to be successful, however. Myk wasn’t very good with Maths, but he calculated his success rate to be somewhere between 80 and 90%. It was a rare occasion that Myk got hit by these supernaturally-powered Humans, but when those occasions came, it was usually as a result of his own clumsiness. As dexterous as he was, Myk was also rather careless and easily distracted. Sometimes he would stumble around a corner, walk right into one of those tattooed freaks, or alarm one of the smaller, squeakier denizens of the sewers which may alarm those Hunters and Paladins in turn. Fault number one was the result of his tattered state. Having bested one Hunter, Myk had walked idly around the corner and into another. The man had been just as surprised to see the white-haired Vampire in fact, so no guns were fired. Instead, the Hunter took Myk by the shoulders, forcing him into the wall with a crack. Myk saw stars behind his eyelids – a whole cosmos – before he responded in turn.

The Vampire was not as muscular or strapping or indeed as powerful as others; Myk was a slender and beautiful creature. He had a light and agile frame that combined adequate strength with the flexibility of change. His body was a range of angles and curves, suiting his aesthetic lifestyle and enabling that gender-bending transmutation that he desired. Although he often leant toward femininity and androgyny, it wasn’t all that Myk was capable of. So despite his looks, Myk grabbed the Hunter by the throat, his hand clenching with the sharpness of steel and quickly cut off the man’s air supply. As the Hunter’s grasp weakened, Myk managed to work his free hand toward his own belt and draw his dagger. The curved blade screamed against the man’s abdomen, the sound liquefying in the pressure and spilling over Myk’s stomach in return; soaking in his dark shirt. The Hunter went limp quickly and Myk had to push the man back in order to crawl away from the wall. His boot caught on the leg of the corpse though as he tried to remove himself, causing the Telepath to stagger into an inelegant hop and skip. Luckily, Myk managed to catch himself in time before he went head over heels, but it was but for a matter of inches.

“Phew,” he breathed, looking back at the mess he’d made of the man.

After wiping the blood off his blade with his already ruined shirt, Myk returned his weapon to its sheath and smirked at the thought of how much of a mess he’d made of himself as well. Sure, he was wearing all black tonight and was caked in more than just blood, but it was the sticky warmth of that Hunter’s blood which made him feel uncomfortable. It made him feel uncomfortable because it invoked his baser urges, made him enjoy what he was doing here. Ordinarily Myk would feel apathetic about slaughtering these people, but just now and again he would feel the thrill of the attack, feel the sweet intoxication of pain, drink in the scent of blood and lose himself to blackness. The clown didn’t fear much, but what he did fear was losing his mind and control of himself. Myk understood what he was capable of and how much devastation he could cause if left to explode. He had to keep a pin on his instincts, on his desires to wreck everything around him because when the fire was over and it burned everything he ever loved, Myk would be left to sift lonesomely through the ashes.

Myk gripped the hem of his shirt, the pressure of his hands forcing blood out of the fabric to drip through his fingers. With a quick pull, Myk dragged the garment inside out and over his head; trying his damndest to avoid touching his face. Myk’s complexion was perfect and he wanted it to stay that way. White foundation painted his flawless skin with a cashmere mask while black eye-liner, eyelashes and mascara framed his pewter eyes with a doll-like beauty. To counteract all that prettiness though, Myk had exaggerated the length and curve of his eyes, drawing thick lines of black down his cheeks as though inky tears had been wept. To complete the look, of course, Myk’s lips were painted a brilliant shade of red and had he been dressed in something more delicate than a black vest top, as well as skinny black jeans and combat boots which both contained metal spikes, he might very well have passed for a female again. As it happened, removing his top totally obliterated that chance. Myk wiped as much of the blood on his hands into the top before discarding it onto the corpse of the Hunter; incidentally landing it perfectly over the man’s face.

There was no need to hang around now, and given the state of him, Myk should have opted to activate his tome and return to the Ivory Tower right away to get changed. It would have been simple enough to teleport home, shower, change and return to the sewers for another round, but why waste another outfit? Sure, he loved to shop and any opportunity to visit those favourites stores of his were perfectly welcome, but he just couldn’t escape the logic buzzing in his brain. Why destroy two pairs of clothes? Why waste water? Myk shrugged his shoulders to both of these questions. There was no good reason to leave right now and while it might have been the cool air crawling across his sensitive skin, Myk felt electrified. Ivory skin was prickled with gooseflesh, splashed with grey mud – or what he hoped was mud – and dampened with crimson, but he felt alive and beautiful and dangerous. He began to march, his feet marking a path all of their own as his head was swimming already. Excitement had already blinded him to morality, but it wasn’t the only thing it blinded him to.

Myk didn’t see the man lying on the floor, but he knew something was wrong when his foot caught something heavy and dense and he was catapulted to the ground. Myk landed diagonally over the being on the ground having caught his foot on the man’s leg. As clumsy as he was, Myk landed with the grace of a cat. A real cat. He might have landed on his forearms, his knees across the other man’s thighs, but he was quick to recover and act like he’d meant to do that, or whatever you just saw, you were mistaken. Cats are perfect and they don’t make mistakes. Myk had flipped himself over with speed, rolling and pulling his legs into him to break contact with the other man. He quickly found a wall behind him so pressed his back into it, his knees near up to his chin. Pewter eyes stared out between shards of white hair, but he didn’t know whether to apologise or quickly make up some excuse like he wasn’t a complete klutz after all. All he could do for the meantime, however, was curse himself internally and stare at the other man with a dazzled expression, mumbling incoherently.

[Arsenic (DELETED 6942)]

Bzzzzt bzzzzt

Nic felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, telling him someone probably wanted his attention. Normally he'd be quick as a whip to check it and respond, but tonight he just didn't feel it. He just wanted to lay completely still and try to make sense of what was going on.

Bzzzzt bzzzzt

"Shut up." he thought, annoyance building in him. There were so many new sensations flooding his aching head that he couldn't make left from right at that moment.
He heard someone walking, but before he could move to look, he felt a sudden thud against his ankle, and then a weight across his thighs. He made a pained groan, mostly because the movement had made his head shake which caused a new wave of agony to shoot through it, muddling his thoughts again.

"****, owww..." He whined, pushing the heels of his palms tightly against his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the ache, before realizing that it was completely pointless and giving up. He lowered his hands slowly, looking around slowly until his eyes fell upon a shape in the dark, sitting closer to him then he expected. He stared for a moment, before slowly sitting up to get a better look at the stranger who had just tripped over him. "Uhm... Hi." He wasn't sure what to say, but the question that had been on his mind these past few minutes found its way past his lips before he could do anything about that. "Do... you know why I'm here?"

He found himself staring at the stranger, at the snow white hair, exquisite make up, and... was that mud? And... blood?
"...why are you muddy and shirtless?"

[Myk]

When the man moved, Myk flinched. One leg moved out from under him, skidding forward and dragging those metal spikes along the stone floor. The Telepath quickly moved his foot back, being centimetres from kicking the male, who didn’t seem all that pleased that Myk had fallen on him in the first place. Myk had to appreciate the situation for what it was, however. It wasn’t exactly his fault that he’d been walking without paying attention, but maybe it wasn’t this man’s fault either. The other Vampire seemed confused, that much was obvious when he asked Myk if he knew why he might be here. Embarrassed for the meantime, however, Myk bowed his head and tried to avoid eye-contact. Pewter eyes deposited themselves in the pit of darkness far to the right of him, deep down into the corridors where even Vampire eyes struggled to pierce. Still, he couldn’t get the image of this man out of his head, nor could he escape the nagging feeling that something was different about this situation. Myk knew that he needed to deal with what was happening and he turned his attention back just in time to catch those blue eyes leering at him.

Two sculptured brows forced a frown in the Telepath’s features, making his eyes darken in an uncharacteristic way. The question that tumbled out of the male caught Myk as rather odd, but it confirmed it to him that this male was new to their world. Myk almost wanted to sigh, gather himself together and walk off. He didn’t need this hassle, he didn’t have the patience to rear a fledgling that was not his own; which explained why he didn’t have any childer frankly. What would he even say to the childe? He was hardly an ambassador for the Masquerade, or Vampire kind in general as it happened. Truth be told, Myk held few to zero allegiances and his motives and plans changed with the passing breeze. He was easily distracted, full of curiosity, full of hunger and craving and no role model for some freshly bore fanged one. In fact, all Myk had the temperament for was bloodying his blade once again.

A steady breath poured out of Myk, slow and quiet, and he pinched his eyes shut to gather his senses and patience together. He was being a jerk and there was no excuse for it. Myk put on a pained expression, dropping his knees and shifting so that he was now sitting on them instead; the cold on his arse wasn’t exactly helping his mood.

“Getting dirty comes as part of the territory,” he murmured, an accent of something British and French slithering out in a dark purr. “We are in the sewers, darling. In a city called Harper Rock… Canada… Earth. How far back does your memory go?”

Although the question was posed, it didn’t much matter to Myk whether he got an answer or not. In fact, the Telepath immediately felt the question to be cruel. No doubt there was a lot on the young man’s mind and a lot of holes in his memory – such was typical in the change, or so Myk imagined. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t remember anything about the night he’d met Temperance. Myk would try to keep the chattering to a minimum, but then, he was all too experienced at chattering incessantly…

[Arsenic (DELETED 6942)]

Steel blue eyes watched the stranger as he shifted, Nic stealing a quick look at the slender, well-shaped body before him. For half a second he forgot the pain and waves of impressions around him as he appreciated the view, but when it returned, it returned in full force. He’d only drank enough to be hung-over once, and he was pretty certain it had been a cakewalk compared to this.

He covered his eyes and took a deep breath, his mouth and nostrils filling with the dank scent of stale air and dirty water. The earthy tones helped him stay grounded, and somehow he managed to keep focused enough to hear what the stranger said.
“I know where I am.” He murmured, soft voice as sour as a lemon. “I asked why, not where.”

It was a good question though. What was the last thing he remembered?
He’d been out for a late dinner, about six thirty… he’d had a couple of drinks at a bar around ten… “Well, uh… I remember the bar? I had two ciders… and a shot. I think it was around midnight when I left to get back to the hotel. And then… well, I woke up here and you tripped over me. And I think I’m missing… yeap, I’m missing one shoe.” He fell silent, staring at his foot and suddenly it just… hit him.

“****, I must have been drugged.” He groaned and laid back on the ground, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes again, feeling like an idiot. Of course that had to be it, nothing else made sense.

Bzzzzt bzzzzt

“Oh for…” He drew a deep breath and pulled his phone from his pocket. Seventeen missed calls, thirty-nine texts, and all from Angelica. She’d be so pissed when he called back.
“Fifty bucks if you break my phone.” Nic murmured, not really meaning it but at this point he’d do anything to not have to explain himself to her.

[Myk]

Myk might have considered helping this man. From the look of him, he was experiencing a broad degree of pain. Myk couldn’t heal others, not like he could tend to himself, but he could give the man a taste of relief if Myk chose to share his feelings with the stranger; empathy worked both ways, after all. Still, it wouldn’t have been a complete and utter crime to check the man over and be certain that there weren’t any serious injuries. Myk leant forward ever so slightly, his face angled just so to look down his delicate nose at the stranger. Those sharp blue eyes had a knife-sharp glint to them, evident even in the dark of the sewers, but Myk didn’t think anything of the looks he was getting. Myk’s concentration settled on analysing this one’s chest, stomach and then the lower half of his body; his intent shifting rapidly with the more he saw. It was desolate in the sewers but for these two and almost romantic, triggering an avid hex of warmth to wash over him. Myk was hovering over his own legs at this point, the distance between them waning. He wanted to get a good look at the stranger without being too intrusive, but then again, everything Myk did seemed to incite hostility in others…

Pewter eyes narrowed at the sudden tartness of the man’s tone and Myk quickly retreated, slumping back glumly onto his heels. The disappointment had broken the spell Myk was under, restoring his resolve with an ounce of vehemence. Myk leered at him. The spoilt child failed to tolerate rejection of any degree or magnitude, responding with equal swiftness and brutality for any indiscretion. Even though nothing positive had ever come from his belly-aching, he was never one to learn a lesson, contorting his hands into primed and dangerous fists. Myk might have spoken some tart words of his own, told the fledgling that he was on his own, wished him good luck, but something changed quickly in the other man’s features and Myk felt his position change rapidly once again. Frustration swiftly bled into pure apprehension as the man spoke, then both men began staring at the missing shoe.

“I— ” Myk began, but he was not quick enough.

The man threw himself back onto the floor, covering his eyes and pining, convinced he’d been drugged. Myk let loose a sigh of exhaustion, pewter orbs rolling around in his skull like ball-bearings. The man clearly had no idea what had happened to him and it was quite sad. Myk wasn’t sure how much patience remained in him tonight and whether blurting out the truth of the matter, putting on a little demonstration, wouldn’t be a completely terrible idea. The poor soul had to wake up and appreciate the reality of the situation, the Hunters and Paladins of Harper Rock would afford the fledgling no liberties after all. Myk edged forward yet again, his hands slipping down his thighs and his back arching. His lower jaw dropped just enough to get a sound out, but yet again Myk found that he’d hesitated far too much. A loud chirrup cut him off and Myk scowled yet again, but it turned out that he wasn’t the only one annoyed by the sound and the intrusion. The stranger offered Myk the opportunity to make that painful ringing going away and since Myk wasn’t always clued into sarcasm – despite being British – he snatched the small device out from the man’s hand and clenched.

“I don’t need payment,” he purred, brushing the shards of glass and plastic, which was all that was left of the man’s phone, from his lap. “Now listen, childe. Whomever was calling, you might as well forget them. Your world changed as you slept and going home risks destroying the lives of others, those you loved presumably…”

Myk paused suddenly, his red lips curling into a wry grin before he began to snigger to himself.

“Sorry… I’m just imagining how this sounds from your point of view… Some half-dressed crazy person telling you that it’s impossible to return home. I suppose you might expect I have a van parked close-by where I can take you to the real world, out of the Matrix… or whatever… I think I’m mixing films…” Myk’s attention averted ever so briefly with the derailing thought, but he quickly got back on track. “Anyway, my point… What was my point? Oh! Yes. You died last night. You probably feel terrible. It's natural. Mourning your life lost is all fine and well... natural. That pain in your neck, in your stomach, is not the result of some terrible trip... unfortunately for us both. But I think I've talked your ear off enough.”

Myk stood at that point and held out his hand to the stranger.

"Want to get a bite to eat? I'm sure you're starving."

[Arsenic (DELETED 6942)]

He was just about to turn the phone off and slip it back into his pocket where it could do him no momentary harm, when the stranger snatched it from his outstretched hand and crushed it as if it had been made out of paper rather than glass and metallic parts. He stared in awe, only half hearing the man ramble something about vans and the matrix, intrigued about the strength that existed in those long, slender, pale fingers. He'd always liked hands, having from a young age believed that you could learn a lot about someone from their hands, but even if he had studied those exquisite fingers for days, he never would have believed them to have such remarkable strength.

"You... really crushed it." His voice was filled with surprise and disbelief, his eyes mirroring his feelings, and for several moments he just kept staring. Then, a change came over him. Subtle at first, and then more noticeable, as his eyes lit of with a gleam of mirth and humour, his lips pulling back and parting in a grin, and a bubbling laughter that begun all the way in his stomach spilt forth through his teeth and bounced off the walls, sending his previous dismay and agony running. "You really..." He could barely manage words between the loud, awkward snorts that escaped him, yet he couldn't help it down. "I can't believe... you actually... crushed it!" He was laughing so hard tears poured from his eyes, lifting his spirits and wiping away his troubles. What was he worrying about? Sure, he hurt a bit, but he still had his health, and he had apparently not been mugged considering his phone had still been on him. Material possessions wasn't of any concern, it would only become a problem if he allowed it to.

He managed to push the laughter down into semi-controllable giggles as he reached out and accepted the help up, still smiling widely. "You know, you're all sorts of psycho bonkers, and you say some weird ****, but I have decided that I like you." Arsenic declared as his grin widened to a point where his cheeks actually hurt. "And yeah, you know what? Now that you mention it, I am kind of hungry. But, uh, could we stop by my hotel room before anything else? I really, really need a shower. And matching shoes, walking around with just one sound like it will become uncomfortable."
He looked around briefly, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly before nodding. Since he was still alive and relatively ok, he'd just consider this another adventure completed. "So, which way is out?"

[Myk]

Curiosity really should have been the eighth sin. After all, what other urge has caused man so much strife? Even if one couldn’t be so generous as to consider it a sin, curiosity should at least be understood as the silent perpetuator for the others. The desire to learn or know about anything and everything has put man on the path to self-discovery, has enriched his ego, has made him vain and selfish. This inquisitiveness has also taught him to search for traits, status, abilities, or situations which he desires in the lives of others – it makes him envious. Curiosity can also be addictive, makes one hunger for new sensations, new experiences, new wealth and new tastes in excessive scores. Sometimes this need to explore and devour and spend is so great that any deferral of that sweet quenching can manifest as explosive rage. Curiosity can reign supreme over the lives of man, leave him searching and questing so thoroughly that he becomes a sloth. Not lazy and sluggish as the regular connotation of the word suggests, but indolent and rejecting of spirituality, of rejecting God.

For this one truth was the basis of all sins. If man rejects God, he is a sinner, a devil. The pursuit of knowledge, the tasting of forbidden fruit, is the rejection of God and expulsion from his Kingdom. Adam and Eve were cast out from the Garden of Eden after all for eating from the Tree of Knowledge. One can argue over God’s reason – that it was the betrayal itself, the principle of the matter – but one has to wonder why such a tree was forbidden in the first place. Is knowledge the bane to God’s power? After all, to be devout, one must be blind to the world around them, blind to themselves and think only of the benefits of this great deity who in the end wants… what? Acknowledgement? Praise? Worship? Obedience? And in return, God offers salvation: an eternity of inner peace, happiness and sunshine. God is the ultimate conservationist of narcissism, and the irony is side-splitting.

Long before Myk was a Vampire – and was very much still Human – he was already a devil. He indulged his sins and encouraged the sins in others. There were more than just those seven, familiar evils inspiring Myk, but it was most certainly the eighth that had the most effect. Above all of his personality quirks and longings, it was the Telepath’s inquisitive mind that was always leading him down rabbit hole after rabbit hole. It was the reason he was standing here, looking over this peculiar male; not just because of his location, but his situation too. Myk couldn’t recall the night of his siring, the first time he had ever met Temperance, but he knew that it was a desire for knowledge that brought him to her and quite likely, her to him as well. They were both such fascinating, and fascinated, creatures and they fed each other’s spirits, forming a bond that would see them through to an eternity. In many ways, Temperance and Myk were strangers, and their ignorance to one another must have surely felt the same as a religion. Myk loved her and obliged her because he didn’t know better to hate and question her. And he was happy with that. Happy to stave off true intimacy, to avoid looking upon a face of flaws because he was happier with the mask he saw instead. He didn’t want to change the way things were at the risk of losing them.

It was these thoughts that came sweeping through Myk’s head as pewter eyes stared at the giggling fledgling. A mixture of emotions stretched and contorted Myk’s features, leaving them tense yet malleable until he decided upon acceptance. The budding Allurist took hold of Myk’s hand and was lifted from the floor by instinct rather than desire. Still, Myk smiled to him and bowed his head as if in greeting before his hand ripped away from the contact. The emotions, though established on the surface, still bubbled with conflict beneath as Myk analysed every action both he and this other Vampire made. Myk questioned that unguarded smile, the unadulterated laughter which had blistered the tension between them like fire caught up in tissue paper. And as Myk watched the remnants of his sobriety disintegrate, floating upward, he was suddenly made aware of the man’s intentions – to leave this wretched place.

“The way out is there,” Myk said blankly, indicating the open manhole above them, then the ladder that ascended from beside them. “Follow me.”

As Myk began his ascent ahead of the other Vampire, he considered the practicality of their situation and, of course, this man’s mental health. Although he had called Myk bonkers – which frankly, wasn’t inaccurate – the Telepath had wondered whether he was very much alone in that respect. It could be said that an Allurist was as unsteady as a Telepath, or at least, that was how Myk perceived them. Where he was about as receptive to signals, vibrations and energies as a bat is receptive to sound, an Allurist was most certainly receptive to emotion. Myk wasn’t sure whether it was their own emotion or that of everyone they come into contact with, however. Just the same way that he wasn’t sure if those voices inside his head were real, absorbed from the world around him, or imagined. After all, he had not taken those pills in over four years…

“So,” the Telepath crooned once they were on solid ground at last. “Where is this hotel at which you are staying?”

Myk paid no mind to the sudden and unexplainable formality in his tone now, nor the abrupt assimilation of a proud British accent. Pewter eyes were focused on their immediate area, seeking out recognisable landmarks to clue him into where they were. The sewers were still very much like a maze to him, so it was always surprising to see where his adventures down the rabbit hole would lead him. In this case they had arrived at Gullsborough, an area which he only recognised for the cafés that were nearby, not to mention the Nightclub just southwest of them. That was probably where the boy had been before being dumped down the sewers – a failed feeding attempt most likely. Myk pushed the thought aside as he raised his nose to the sky, breathing in deeply and silently. The air around him felt warm and light, as though he had been wrapped in a thin cotton shawl. It was a pleasant summer’s night where the sky was a clear jet background to a showering of stars. Even now, out in the open streets, Myk wasn’t concerned at all with his own appearance. A caking of dirt – and various other fluids – marked the perfect white skin of his face, arms and torso with blotchy smears, and since he was still left in his trousers, he didn’t feel the slightest bit naked or insecure. Still, the idea of a bath wasn’t completely horrible and Myk held that thought in his head and he awaited instructions from the other male.