--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
~The following role play is backdated to 07.20.15~
Jose: Jose had been born in the barrio, raised in the barrio and moved to Harper Rock when his gang’s boss decided to expand into Canada. He hated it here but there were some opportunities he wasn’t going to miss. Like running his own set. He has a chance to rise in the ranks faster since the place was new. Since rising in MS-13 meant a willingness to live the crazy life, that was what Jose has been doing. Already he had shed blood, knifing several of the local gangsters and even getting into it with one of the other gang’s enforcers. He’d lost the fight, but earned the respect of the other vatos for being fearless. Jose was a rising star.
His drug trade had picked up too, cooking and moving meth and doling out trees to the local gringo kids for a quick buck had provided him with a decent apartment, a car and he was living large. Until he met the hombre calling himself Tizoc. That had changed everything in Jose’s life. The older man had whispered things into Jose’s mind. Promises of power, women, money, Jose had succumbed in no time and suddenly found himself an errand boy to something not even human. Something that drank blood and only came out at night. Something out of a horror movie. El vampiro. During the day he was free to do his thing. He hung out with the other bangers, he lived the crazy life. When the sun set though jose was out of there cause you didn’t keep el hefe waiting. That was a good way to end up dead or worse. He’d seen it. He’d seen him cut out a woman’s heart and make her live again pouring his blood into the gaping sucking would in her chest. He’d seen that loco **** more than once. Nah Jose wasn’t trying to piss off el hefe.
He made his way through the slums. It was already dark, he was heading back to the factory only a few quick blocks away. His vibrant blue sneakers thudded rhythmically off the blacktop as he walked, hands in his pockets, head down and eyes on the road ahead of him. Jose wasn’t much of a grand thinker but he was thinking now… how long did he had til it was his heart being grasped by that hand, ripped from his chest and those fangs buried into it while it pumped out the rest of it’s contents in bloody splatters on the floor?
The crazy life… he thought. **** my life…
<Adelita>A petite, dark haired woman curses lightly in Spanish as she fiddles with the lock on a door in the slums in the city. She’s not wearing the typical, inconspicuous clothing a would be burglar should wear. No, instead, the brown eyed woman looks as if she should be anywhere but knelt at a warehouse door, trying to pry it open with a personalized lock pick set. Tiny fingers move to the purse that’s on her left shoulder, as the woman sets off the building's alarm system, pulling out a gadget she found online to stop the security system from informing the policia in the city. Once that’s taken care of, Lita stands, drops the lock pick set in the very same purse with a frustrated sigh and then brushes off an expensive looking grey colored pencil skirt before snapping the thing closed. Tonight was mildly disappointing. She turned away from the building, (while certain of her capabilities with the false alarm-she didn’t want to risk it) not wanting to stay too close to the thing-just in case. It wasn’t as if the woman was overly lucky lately, or ever since she became a vampire.
At first, the male in blue didn’t register as anyone special when Adelita saw him from the corner of her eyes, the woman’s fingers rubbing at the emerald colored, silk blouse she wore as she surveyed the other buildings with potential. He was coming her way, she was going his and when the two were maybe ten feet apart, Adelita knew exactly who the male in blue was. Others, not from the background might not know, and might even go so far to write him off as another ‘gang-banger wanna-be,’ but Adelita knew better than that. Whispers on the streets, in clubs, bars and various other public locations told various tales of the male. Most, if not all of them were ‘bad,’ but just the type of man Adelita didn’t mind getting to know. The type of male she wanted to get close to.
No, she wasn’t the type to get hot and heavy over bad boys, but the right bad boy with the right finances and the right contacts would and could change her life from what it was now, to what it had been before Remington and Godric unintentionally screwed things up for the young woman. She had been warned of the plan she devised and how it could backfire, but Lita had been confident that things would work in her favor then.
When Jose would move past her, Lita would keep her distance and follow him. It was the same routine she did prior to getting close to any potential. Know where he spends his time, who his friends are and what he likes to do in his free time and then she would tailor her life to his until they ‘accidentally’ met some night in the imminent future.
Jose: Jose noticed the hot lil mamacita, her clothing didn’t fit in in these parts. If he wasn’t alone and late for his appointment with el hefe he might have tried to get some play off the chica. As it was he was already dangling from a hella thin thread. His feet started to hit the sidewalk faster as he hurried along, sparing only a second to glance back to check out the woman’s ***… and there she was walking his way.
Jose turned back around, eyes forward again and kept walking, hurrying along to avoid his master’s ire while wondering why the chick was following him. Feeling torn between getting back to Ambrose or Tizoc of whatever the boss’s name really was and finding out why the woman was maybe following him, Jose cut caddy corner across the street, heading to the alley between Genesis Labs and the factory beside it.. As soon as he was out of sight he broke into a run and ducked behind the dumpster midway down the alleyway. If she was following him she’d have to come this way and if not, then no reason why she would come that way right?
Yeah, he was already in ****. He knew it, he’d be in even more **** if he brought this chicana to the factory without el hefe even knowi… The woman following you. Bring her to me. I thirst. Well that solved that. Out of la vida loca and back into la vida muerte….
Jose stands from his hiding spot and heads back toward the mouth of the alley, if the woman is following him he should bump into her and if not…
...she couldn't have gone far right?
Ambrose Acheron: Within the depths of the factory, past decimated walls and dilapidated machinery, down rusted and unsafe metal steps and beyond the cracked cement floor of the disused basement, once a haven for storage, lay what once might have been an aquifer. No water fills the vast chamber these nights, these nights only darkness resides within, filling the area with a shadow that has less to do with the absence of light than with a palpable aura of evil. The vampire Tizoc, now known as Ambrose, stirs in that darkness, his consciousness withdrawing from his servant’s thoughts. The taste of fresh blood rushing over his tongue almost tangible. He rises and makes his way toward the fade portal nearby.
He steps through the portal, his garb simple, a button up shirt unbuttoned to reveal a white t-shirt under it with blue jeans and a pair of sneakers procured by his thrall. Ambrose knows he is dressed in the style known as “gangsta” but the styles of the modern age hold little interest to him. What matters is the crimson liquid in the veins of the approaching woman and the failure of his thrall to arrive on time this evening. Ambrose briefly ponders if Jose has perhaps outlived his usefulness already as he appears around the corner of Newborough Station and begins to head north toward the alleyway Jose was just in.
At least slaking his thirst on the woman Jose was leading this way would free up his night by getting the hunt for sustenance out of the way.
He had rituals needing done and sacrifices needing found. The gods waited for no man, mortal or otherwise.
<Adelita> Lita wasn’t trying to give herself away, so as she walked, the woman would pause and look at buildings, though she suspected that wasn’t all too discreet because most places in the slums seemed to close early. She wasn’t surprised, robbery and theft usually ran high in parts like these all across the world, so it seemed like a smart move for all business owners. So, as she walked, Lita pulled out her cell phone and pretended to look at things online. Her walk turned into a slow, leisurely stroll, with what seemed like no real purpose or destination until she looked up at the sound of fast steps and found her potential target...gone?
“Meirda!” Lita spat out as she looked left and right for Jose and couldn’t find where he went off to. She weighed her options. Logically, he couldn’t have backtrack past her, so that was off the table. He could have kept going straight, which would take her to the woods eventually, but Adelita hardly suspected that he would head that way. So, left or right? Lita slipped the phone back in her purse and decided to go right. Train station wasn’t too far off. If he wasn’t there, as disappointing as it was, she could call it a night and try again tomorrow now that she knew he could be found here.
Jose: Running back through the alleyway Jose reached the end and came to a skidding halt. Nobody wanted a tattooed gang member running up to them out of the blue, especially not a woman and especially not a woman that had been following the cholo a minute before. Where the **** was she though? Jose glanced up and down the street before movement across the way caught his attention. Yeah, that’s her. No one else wearing that type of clothing in these parts. She’s lucky she’s not getting robbed.
He decides on the casual approach, leaning back against the wall off Genesis Labs and hollering across the street to her. “Hey mamacita! I think I got what you looking for over here!” He sticks his hands in his pockets and waits, watching her from across the street. At least he’d know if she was following him. Cause if she hadn’t been, he’s ready to rush up on her and take her down. The gun in the waistband of his pants is comforting but he figures a knife would do to threaten this one if need be. El hefe won’t have no reason to cash Jose out tonight.
Damn, she fine as hell too. Maybe el hefe will let him have at her once he’s done doing his whole blood drinking thing. Jose eyes the woman from where he is, not moving and waits to see what she does.
<Adelita>Someone was shouting in her direction and that someone was a male and he was speaking some spanish. It had to have been Jose, so without missing a beat, Adelita turned around, tucked her hair behind her ears and let a coy, smooth smile fall on her red painted lips. She moved forward, in his direction, her stride both determined, but playful as her feet criss crossed over the other. “¿Qué crees que necesito?” Lita responded in kind, her eyes darting down to his blue sneakers, and moving back up the length of his body until they found their way on his face. She doubted he knew what it was she actually needed, but then again, he didn’t need to know--did he? They never did. They only cared about one thing and one thing only and she could give it to them any way they liked. As long as everyone was happy believing what they wanted to believe, that was all that mattered in the end.
Jose: Jose let his own eyes wander over the approaching Adelita. He loved it when a woman walked like that, feminine, like she was stalking him. It always got his blood boiling. “I got whatever you think you can handle chica. Let’s walk and talk, yo.” With that he turned and started back toward the alley only to run into the stocky frame of el hefe. He was just standing there staring at the woman, seemingly oblivious of Jose smacking into him. “Hey boss, I was just bringing this chicana to you like…”
Ambrose Acheron: He had headed up the alley after his thrall, determined to feed as soon as possible to get an early start on his night. His footsteps quiet and even paced upon the damp floor of the sun deprived alley floor. As he reached the mouth of the alley two things happened. He saw the woman with Jose and he heard something that he could only describe as haunting and melodic. That’s when everything went to hell in a handbasket.
Ambrose had seen his share of women throughout the centuries, he had been around a long time. The moment he lay eyes on this one though everything changed. His mind stopped, his heart would have if it was still beating. Everything seemed to focus into a pinpoint with her in the center of his world and then, shattered, expanding and leaving her at the center of it. He was speechless, lost, she was larger than life and his need and desire for her washed away his intentions of feeding. He knew as soon as he saw her she was a vampire, but more…
… he had to have her. There was a ringing sound in his mind and something deep, buried behind this new layer of adoration and ardeur he felt was screaming at him that something was wrong. He couldn’t focus on it. Absent-mindedly his hand moved out, grasping Jose firmly by the shoulder and sweeping him to the side away from her. Without a thought he offered his hand and his true identity, kept secret since 1788, “Tizoc Yayauhqui”. His eyes are locked on hers, she somehow reaches him through the darkness even as his immaterial shadow, reaches up and tries to throttle her ineffectively. “Jose… go get a different vessel,” he says without tearing his eyes from the vision before him.
<Adelita> An amused smile fell on her lips when he claimed something Lita had heard all too many times. Still, it didn’t make the woman want to abandon the possibility of what Jose might have to offer in the long run, so the woman followed him. As they walked, an old 1990’s something that could be considered a ‘rust bucket,’ drove past them, music blaring unfamiliar music Adelita hadn’t heard before. Not that she wasn’t used to that, the music she listened to had heavy Mexican influences and sometimes Spanish as well. This music was soft, melodic and peculiar. Nothing she had heard before, but she didn’t pay it any real attention (or so the woman believed).
Jose mentioned a boss and soon there he was. Lita looked up at him for a second to see just who this ‘boss,’ was of Jose’s and suddenly, Jose took a back seat to the male. She knew nothing about him, other than the offered name he gave her, but Adelita was captivated by the male. Maybe it was the power he exuded when the other male moved Jose aside like he was nothing but a pawn of his, or maybe it was the way he was staring at her. Confidence, power and desire were all traits that could be labeled as attractive to Adelita and she certainly felt desirable to the male in front of her, this Tizoc Yayauhqui.
She took a breath in and extended her left hand to the older male. Delicate fingers yearned to reach out and touch him, to make contact with the guy that cast Jose to the side. “Adelita Delgado. Most people call me Lita.” She confessed openly, but wouldn’t mind him calling her whatever he wanted, truthfully. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” And Adelita meant it too, for the first time ever, Lita didn’t want the male for what he might have in terms of materialistic values, but just wanted him.
Jose: Jose wanted to know what the hell just happened but it seemed like he just got a free pass on being late. This chicana, she might just have saved his ***. He wasn’t gonna ***** about the timing, he backed away looking at the two as though they had lost their minds before turning and stalking off down the alleyway toward the station. Off to go find another chick for el hefe… maybe he should bring an hombre? Boss seemed suddenly wrapped up in that woman. If he brought another woman back he might get mad?
Jose cursed to himself. Why can’t life be easy?
Ambrose Acheron: Ambrose steps forward, closing the distance between himself and Lita to inches, taking her left hand in both of his and bringing it to his lips, pressing her hand against them gently as he lightly inhales her scent. He’s never met anyone like her. His head is awash with visions of skin sliding over skin, lips caressing and tongues dancing. His mind filled with a thousand torrid images flashing through it.
“I have lived two hundred years on this earth and two hundred more in the fade… never have I seen anything so dark and beautiful as you Adelita Delgado… You are a vision, divine. Were you sent by Xochiquetzal or are you her made flesh?”
His dark eyes seem to penetrate her as he steps back, still holding her hand in both of his and allows his gaze to roam over her from head to toe and back up to meet her eyes, to sear into her soul burning away the fleshy barrier of her body to gaze upon her stripped bare essence. For once he doesn’t even think to read thoughts and memories. He can’t concentrate on anything but the angel before him. He wants her… he can feel himself inside her, he can feel her unbeating heart in his hand, taste her on his lips.
<Adelita> When their hands connected, Adelita stepped forward. Her body yearned to be near his, so much it actually ached and the woman even stumbled a little when she took that step. Thankfully, the hold on her hand didn’t send the woman stumbling forward and into Tizoc and he didn’t notice either.
When he spoke, Adelita gave him her full attention. Usually, when she was with a man, she was either thinking of another, or she was thinking about anything but what he was saying or doing. As he complimented her, Adelita felt like butter, warm butter, and she was about to melt right there in his hands. She didn’t know who he was talking about, but the compliment did not go amiss as her red painted lips turned upwards into a wide smile, her brown eyes brightening up.
That was until her stomach started to turn and all her thoughts about Tizoc were interrupted by the creature that was in her stomach. Elighan. For a brief moment her eyes narrowed as she remembered that she was supposed to be making his life a living hell for a few nights before Micah wanted to know what her choice was going to be with the fadebeast that stupid human put inside of her. Adelita took a step back from Tizoc, but when she did this, she felt as if a piece of her had been left with him as her feet find spacing from him. It was a feeling she wasn’t used to experiencing and left her shaken to her very core. So Adelita once again steps closer to Tizoc as her stomach settles and she asks the most obvious question given his earlier words, “Usted es un vampiro?”
Ambrose Acheron: Tizoc nods at the question to answer it. “Let me show you…” He wants her to know every part of him, his life, his pain, his triumph, he wants to share it with her. He moves his right hand up, tracing her jawline with a single finger before sliding it back up her cheek and placing his palm there. He doesn’t close his eyes. He doesn’t blink, not wanting they gaze to break. Into her head he lets his memories flow using memory telepathy, he shows her his mortal life, a thrall to a bloody line of Aztec vampires in the early 1600’s, his embrace, a ritualistic sacrifice and revival. He shows her his sire, the dedication needed to survive and thrive in such a hardline religious environment.
Blood hunts, his sire, Eztli, a necuratist being hunted down, finally falling along with the rest of his bloodline except for Tizoc. His escape and time with the voodoo practicing Haitian immigrants in New Orleans. He shows her his first love, his childe, the Choctaw sorceress Coahoma and his friend, Ambrose Acheron. Their deaths in the Great Fire of 1788. Hunters closing in.
He shows her his flight to New York and his life there, eking out a bare existence, feeding from gangsters at the waterfront, leaving bodies in the harbor before his escape from hunters once again in 1811, fleeing north trying to reach the small group of vampires led by a woman named Isabella Drake.
His death is seen through his eyes, blurring as they open to find the hunters surrounding him, blood and smoke and fire and battle and then… the shadow realm. Languishing for two hundred years praying to a deity unheeding to his pleas for release. She can feel his unshakable faith and unyielding conviction. And recently… his release from the fade. The immediate desire to make childer, to secure his line. Vega, Kika and Machk falling under his knife, hearts removed while vampire blood quickened their cooling corpses… his new name spreading under the name of his old friend, Acheron.
Slowly he let’s his hand trail back down her face and cups it on the side of her neck, still looking into her eyes. “I have met no one like you.”
<Adelita> When he stared at her, right into her eyes, Adelita felt oddly vulnerable. Like he could see right into her soul, if vampires had such a thing. A tiny bit of her tongue darts out and wets her lips as her face finds comfort in the hand that’s pressed against it.
Glimpses of his life are pressed into her mind, an experience Adelita has never been privileged to, or knew existed. With each piece he shares with her, Adelita yearns to reciprocate her life with him, only she doesn’t possess such an ability, and her life would pale in comparison to his. Still, the inclination doesn’t go away, which disturbs Adelita. She isn’t a person that shares any aspect of her life with anyone, let alone a stranger, but he wasn’t actually a stranger anymore, was he?
When his death is displayed for her, Adelita’s other hand covers the hand that is on his and she feels for him. Sorrow, angst and even discomfort on the experience he had to endure, even if he didn’t feel those things. The thought of him dying was almost too much for her to bear as she took a deep breath in and held it there. Tizoc speaks again, and those negative thoughts and feelings vanish in an instant as his hand finds her chin area, and hers, his elbow. Keeping him close to her, or her close to him. Though she has heard something similar before at least a handful of times by other men, Adelita believes him wholeheartedly. To say the same would mean nothing, she believes, even if it is the truth. Never before has she met someone like him and it drives her absolutely wild. She wants to know everything about him. Absolutely everything; from his life to the contours of his body.
“Te quiero.” She admits with an exhale before she laughs, her lips pressing into his palm as she looks away. That wasn’t entirely what she wanted to say, even if it was the truth. Adelita did want him, but not in just the basic, carnal sense of things. “Lo siento,” She says as her eyes return to his, entranced in them for what seemed like an eternity before a new desire took her. The desire to eat. She was always hungry since Elighan cursed her with whatever the thing was that was growing inside of her-fade something or another. Micah had told her, but Lita had half lost her mind when he told her what would happen if she didn’t make the choice sooner than later. “Do you eat? I’m starving.” Not the most eloquent way to put things, but straight to the point, which was another rare phenomenon for Adelita.
Ambrose Acheron: Ambrose leans in and presses his lips to hers in a soft, sweet kiss before drawing back, eyes finding hers once more. His expression says the words for his. He is smitten, his gaze yearning. Had he a heartbeat it would be for her. He gives pause hearing her request. Elation builds within at being able to do something to please her. He wants to please her, to claim her, to make her his, to possess every facet of her, mind, body, soul. He wants to devour her.
Food, he thinks. Jose would have food at his apartment… West Tower. He thinks back quickly, remembering how to get there before speaking. “My underling, he has a place in West Tower. There is a refrigerator there. He has food in it.” So many new words for Ambrose in this new age. He is still lost in these modern nights and finds himself drawing on the knowledge of his childer and thrall more often than not to supplement his own shortcomings.
“The station nearby has a subway train that can take us to a nearby station. Would you like to go there?” Ambrose still has trouble with modern canter and slang, but he thinks he has said the right thing. “Unless you mean you need a vessel… Jose will be back soon with one. He is searching now.”
His mind is still overwhelmed with the sudden desire, lust, need… he can’t seem to focus fully and misses the sign of a fadebeast harboured within the womb of this woman he has fallen for entirely. His emotions are running high and his thoughts clouded.
<Adelita> Adelita is torn between two desires; the need to feed and sharing another kiss with Tizoc. She doesn’t move, the dark haired woman just listens to what he has to say. He could have suggested any place and she would have went with him as long as it had food and him. Why could she not have both? Food and then him, or him and then food? “Yes. I want to go there with you. Now.” She says between heavy breaths, keeping close to him, so close that Adelita didn’t leave much room to the imagination on what she was or wasn’t endowed with. She wanted to be with him, near him and to not be those things caused her duress.
Vessel. Adelita had to think about what he meant and replayed the sentence in her mind. Jose was getting something, or someone. A human. “No, I already fed tonight.” She shakes her head, fingers grabbing on to the fabric of his clothing. “Please. Can we go?” She whispers against the underside of his jaw before she nips at it. “I want to be there with you.” A delicate tongue dances across his jaw, tasting him, which only intensifies the desire to be with him. To have him.
Ambrose Acheron: Ambrose being an allurist sometimes has made use of the ability to eat mortal food. It helps in hiding what he is sometimes. Still, he has never been actually hungry for anything but blood. The woman is as mysterious as she is perfect and Ambrose wants to know more. With Adelita’s hand in his and the two of them heading toward the station Ambrose finally manages to begin his usual approach to meeting new vampires. He scans her memories first, wanting to know everything about her. He appraises her next and what he sees makes him nearly miss a step. A fadebeast. There is a fadebeast inside her… Ambrose has seen one of these before. A vampire in New York had birthed one and it had immediately turned on her. It had taken three vampires to hunt the creature down and destroy it.
He gives her hand a squeeze, letting her know he is fine if he made any outward showing of his surprise and his thoughts turn to getting rid of the thing within her. The thought of her being harmed brings a combination of anger and fear welling up inside him. He doesn’t know any non-invasive or non-harmful ways to get the thing out. Birthing it was not an option to Ambrose. No, not an option at all. There was only one thing to do and he liked the idea of doing it not one bit.
As they reach the station he looks at the map to determine which line they need to take and then settles in with Adelita to wait for the right train to come, losing himself once more in her eyes. The fadebeast concerns him but he will let her bring it up. He almost feels guilty for invading her thoughts unbidden.
<Adelita> While they walk, her thoughts are conflicted. As she tasted Tizoc, Adelita grew hungrier. If not for food, then for him. A fleeting thought of devouring him, literally had entered her mind. His flesh was what the Mexican woman wanted in more than one way. There was a moment of alarm on her face at the realization, because she knew that wasn’t a normal desire. To devour the flesh of anyone, let alone this man at her side. There is a squeeze to her hand and the woman looks down at their hands and the look of alarm vanishes. With that singular action, it seems to her that everything will be fine. . It is an odd sensation, holding another person’s hand-she has never done it before. Her fingers wiggle in his hand a little, the woman trying to get familiar with holding his hand as they walk to the station. He is quiet, but nothing alerts her to anything being wrong. If there had been a look on his face, she had missed it while her gaze was on their entwined fingers.
As they are paused, the free arm of Adelita wraps around Tizoc. He is a little taller than her, but still, her nose finds its way in the crook of his neck so she can take in his scent. It is all like a dream to her-finding this man, and is less than an hour wanting to know everything about him, be with him and adore him on the level she does. With one more inhale inwards, Adelita pulls away slightly so that she can stroke the side of his cheek and make eye contact with Tizoc-a man she dare claim to….love? Was that even possible for her? “Where you ever scared? In that place of darkness?” She asked him quietly, her dark hues focused on him and him alone. Anyone near them wasn’t even thought of or heard-she was completely smitten and lost in Tizoc and his life.
Ambrose Acheron As the train pulls in Ambrose waits for the herd to disembark, watching for any other vampires closely coming in to the area he thinks of as his. He has claimed the factory underground as his own, not wanting to draw attention to it though he has left the upper levels open. As such he is cautious, making careful note of the faces that come and go from the surrounding areas.
He gives Adelita’s hand another squeeze as he leads them onto the subway train. He has not yet become accustomed to these modern marvels, going underground has always been equated with visiting the fade for Ambrose and it’s never been a concept he has enjoyed, especially not so soon after being freed from it. Still, Lita is hungry and Ambrose is determined to provide for her. Once they board he finds them a seat and pulls her gently down next to him, placing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her near him so he can breathe in her scent.
He is puzzled about how quickly these feelings have washed over him, concerned about the thing growing within her and even more than those feelings, he is completely enamoured by her. The train starts moving and picks up speed, Ambrose keeps his eyes locked on hers to escape the wave of vertigo he fears with overwhelm him if he looks out the window. Soon they will approach West Tower over by Honeymead Station. Soon they will arrive at the apartment. He hopes for Jose’s sake it is presentable.
A question breaks through the vampire’s thoughts. Interrupting a thousand visceral tortures to come for Jose the interrogative slips into his mind. Scared? “No. I was never scared. The god of smoke and mirrors, Tezcatlipoca held me in his embrace until I was ready to be unleashed on this realm once more. Perhaps this is the right time. Perhaps it’s because of you.” Ambrose has never questioned his faith, he figured that being engulfed in the bleakness of the fade was part of his god’s plan. Fear, no. He had suffered anger and impatience but even those feelings had make him feel as though he was being an ingrate. “We are all part of a great wheel of time and play our part as best we can. I was upset that I wasn’t to be included in that for a time, but I am happy to be included once more.”
De Amor y Sangre (Of Love and Blood)
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Ambrose Acheron
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De Amor y Sangre (Of Love and Blood)
Occepa iuhcan yez, occeppa iuh tlamaniz, in iquin, in canin.
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Adelita (DELETED 5973)
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Re: De Amor y Sangre (Of Love and Blood)
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
~The following role play is backdated to 07.20.15~
<Adelita> All the while he talks, his eyes are on her pair and her set on his. Her free fingers come to rest comfortably on the top of his arm. It’s so easy being with him; in his presence. Tizoc is calm, soft spoken, collected and focused. Even though she doesn’t know about most the things he talks about, Lita finds herself believing in his faith. Or at least that he believes in it and so she never questions it. She just listens to it all, and absorbs what he chooses to share with her. When he professes to her being the reason for his return, Adelita looks away then. She is temporarily filled with guilt because Tizoc believes her to be something she doesn’t believe she is. He compares her to his faith and of people that seem important and mean a lot to him. “I-I-there is something not right.” Her gaze returns to his. “There is something.” Adelita stops talking when people walk by them, knowing this sort of topic shouldn’t be talked about so openly in such a place-but she wants to tell him. If he felt half the way she felt about him, he wouldn’t care, right?
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose looks Adelita over questioningly, his expression imploring her to continue. He has a very calm, serene and patient aura about him. The aura of one who is confident that everything will be exactly as it is meant to be. His gaze settle on Adelita’s eyes and he waits to see what it is she has to say. He doesn’t mention he knows about the fadebeast though he suspects it may be what she is about to confide in him. He knows of few ways to rid a vampire of that problem, none of them are very good conversation over dinner.
He gives her hand a comforting caress, letting her know that he is there for her and listening.
<Adelita> There is reassurance in the way his hand glides over hers and she smiles again. The smile is momentary, before Lita looks down at their hands and whispers what’s on her mind. "Estoy embarazada". Her fingers unlace from his and are put in her lap as she thinks about the human, the fingers on her left hand, picking at the red polish nails on her right hand. “Lo siento.” Heavy lids look up at him, fingers still working at the polish. This is an unfamiliar situation and she isn’t exactly sure why she is even apologizing to him. Or why Adelita’’s telling him something she’s certain she isn’t supposed to be telling people. Was she apologizing because she isn’t pregnant by Tizoc, or because their time together might be short lived? “I didn’t know that you existed.” She mumbled as a chip of red peeled off the bed nail she had been working on. As she thought about her personal situation, Adelita thought about Elighan, how they met and how she came to be pregnant with his little monster, and felt the harsh sting of truth. “I am not the woman you think I am.” It was true. Chances are if this was any other night, he wouldn’t give her the time of night and she might not give him it either.
Ambrose Acheron Alarm bells are going off in Tizoc’s mind.Fadebeasts… he had dealt with them in the past and all-too recently for that matter. The main thing he was worried about right now was protecting her from the birth. His people had a legend about these creatures being the spawn of evil spirits able to pass into the female body through the link vampires have with the god of the night sky. This was why the Tozoztontli bloodline was discouraged from mating, why high priests were expressly forbidden, yet here was Ambrose infatuated and lusting after a woman for the second time in his dark history. The first time had ended in tragedy. This time seemed to be doomed from the start as well.
In a way it only steeled his resolve. He found he cared for this woman in a way that was alien and inexplicable and as with all points in his life it seems he would inexorably be drawn into tragedy. Tizoc had never read Shakespeare or he would have instantly had thoughts of “star cross’d lovers”.
Had he been able to make that connection he may have ran then.
As it were though, Ambrose was no scholar of English literature. All he does is listens to her and sits in silence a long moment after Adelita has finished talking, processing this information slowly before nodding. “We will fix it. You will not birth the abomination. It is a fadebeast, not a child.” He thinks of his own encounters with the Alpha Fadebeast lately and it’s smaller cousins throughout the centuries and shows her these things through image telepathy. “These things always kill the mother after they come out. I won’t let this happen to you.”
<Adelita> His calm composure has her smile return as Adelita leans in to the male and relaxes against him. His words are comforting and his timbre has Adelita believing everything he says. That this can be fixed and that they will come to a resolve together. A hand finds the side of his face again, dark hues searching out his face as Adelita is overcome with a sense of security and attachment for the male next to her. She believes anything and everything he says, if not for his words and how they are said, then for the things, the images, Tizoc shares with Adelita. “I believe and trust you.” Such a statement wouldn’t have been said by the woman, let alone to someone she just met on the streets, but here she was, so confident that Adelita did believe these thoughts.
Before she met him, she was afraid and she should still be afraid of the monster baby she was carrying in her womb. But tonight? Tonight she felt no fear, just profound certainty that things will be alright. That the circle he spoke of would be as it should be. That everyone plays their part and his part tonight would be helping her. Adelita takes her other hand from his and places that on the other cheek, locking the two of them in a moment that was usually seen by a pair of lovers that were so absorbed in the other. Ruby red lips search the depths of his own set, solidifying her statement spoken a few seconds later. “Thank you.” She whispers against his lips, finally feeling confident that there was a plan and that plan would work, even if she didn’t know what that plan was.
Ambrose Acheron: Dark images swirl through Ambrose’s mind. The blade will cut, he knows what he will find within her. She is a creature of the shadow though, like him and as such he will be able to draw her back from its clutches after he has done what is needed. The thing must not be birthed. His eyes show a strange and foreign compassion as they move over her and her holds her tight against him, saying very little the rest of the ride to Honeymead Station. Once there he rises and guides her off the train, left arm around her waist and his hand hand fingers entwined with her’s. He can’t stand the thought of parting with her even briefly, wanting to remain in physical contact as much as possible as he walks toward West Tower toward Jose’s flat.
Once more thoughts of violent reprisal enter into his mind if Jose has not kept the place immaculate as he was ordered to. He will not have Adelita exposed to anything but the best he can offer her, she should not had to lay eyes on anything less than perfect. He again feels the tug of something within his mind, some far away piece of himself mutely screaming at him that something is far from right with this scenario. He doesn’t even try to focus his attention on it though, his attention is fully occupied by the goddess in his embrace.
<Adelita> Tizoc says nothing, but he doesn’t need to, to Lita. His presence, touch, and look in his eyes comfort Lita. As they walk, she stays close to him, even if she doesn’t have much choice because of his hold-she wants to be near him. Everything about tonight is surreal; meeting him, learning of his life, sharing her secret, wanting to stay near him, and yearning for him in such a way Adelita has never longed for another in this magnitude.
The two reach the apartment, but nothing in it is given much attention. Her eyes are on him, and even if she glances at the home on the rare occasion, Adelita sees nothing but perfection in everything about the place. She believes the male besides her is perfect in every way possible, and so nothing about what he does or doesn’t say, where they are and the things inside are flawed. Everything is perfect. “Do you mind?” Adelita uses him as support with one hand as the other undoes the heel she’s wearing, then the other before leaving them at the side of the door. When she finds her feet, there is a noticeable difference in height granted to her by the tall heels. Adelita has lost around four inches and stands at about 5’3” now instead of at the male’s height like she had seconds ago. With the shoes off to the side, Adelita’s arm works itself around his so that both hands are on him once again. Her body is positioned so that she is facing towards him, her eyes on him, soaking in every physical feature and quality of the man, as if she were in disbelief that they were here together. As if Lita were the luckiest woman in Harper Rock, because she was. How did she get so lucky to find someone like him? Someone that had lived this life for much longer than she; someone that had the answers she desperately needed? It was almost as if it were kismet. “What are we going to do?” She asks in a low, hushed tone, even if they are alone now.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc is used to being either alone or a leader. It’s been his birthright since the day of his turning over four centuries ago. Sometimes that time seems like an ocean between who he was and what he is. At others, like now the present and past flow together like a river opening up into the ocean, mixing together and forming a perfect hybrid of the man he was and the monster he is. This is one of the latter. His passion for life is unblemished by two centuries in the shadow. If anything it has increased, swelled up inside him and now that passion is focused on another being. His desire heightened by the siren’s song (unbeknownst to him) has his blood at a fever-pitch. He wants to devour this woman before him as the ocean devours the water brought forth from the river…
What are we going to do, she asks him. Ambrose is inexperienced in the physical act that creates the lowest and the highest born of people yet what he lacks in experience he makes up for with infinite patience and an unyielding desire to explore every aspect of Adelita. He knows how this has to end. The creature within her must be destroyed, must be returned back to the shadows and she must emerge purified, alone, without the monster within.
His hand reaches up, cups her cheek, low, along the jawline and his thumb runs lightly over her bottom lip as he leans forward, covering her plush lips with his own. “We are going to be one in mind, body and soul, then I am going to set you free from the creature within you Adelita.”
He wants everything that she is… he wants her body, he wants to be within her, he wants to drain her dry and possess her…
He wants to do bad things to her.
<Adelita> His words made her shiver with desire and anticipation. A man who knew what he wanted it, said it and said it as eloquently as he did had quite the appeal and was a big turn on to the woman. It didn’t matter his experience or lack of, obviously Adelita was no stranger to sexuality, hers or whoever she was with. There was a whimper as his lips claimed hers, hands going to his head and entwining her fingers within his hair as she deepened the kiss, which told Tizoc that she was delighted with his words.
Not being shy, Adelita makes the first move. She gives him another kiss, unwinds herself from his hold and takes a few steps backwards. With each step, she undoes a button on her blouse until it’s removed and then unzips the pencil skirt from her frame before she reaches the arm of the couch; the very arm she claims as she sits on it and raises a finger towards Tizoc, inviting him over to join her.
Ambrose Acheron Stepping up to Adelita he stops before her, hands reaching out to caress her face with the back of his fingers as he runs them into her hair, tilting her head back and leaning forward to reclaim her lips with his own. He deepens the kiss and allows his hand to come back, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. Tribal tattoos adorn his flesh, set off in the soft light of the apartment.
Once more his hands move to Adelita, exploring her curves, caressing her hips and moving up her waist to her breasts, covering them as he leans her back onto the couch. The siren’s song rings through his ears, increasing the ardeur smoldering within him, his eyes are for her only, remaining locked on hers with an intensity no mortal could muster. Clothing is discarded, flesh entwines with flesh, mouths seek soft and tender flesh, soft curves, hard muscle… the sound of trailing kisses becomes gasps, then becomes moans and grunts...
JoseOutside the door Jose reaches for the handle and stops hearing something within. He leans his ear against the door for a moment and listens before stepping back and looking to the blonde woman he managed to sweet talk into coming with him. “Yeah my homie’s in there with his chicana right now. Let’s go grab something to drink downstairs and then we’ll come back up in a bit ok?” The woman looks a little disappointed and amused at the same time but lets the thrall take her waist and lead her to the elevator.
<Adelita> Fingers trace over random tattoos that mean nothing to Adelita as she isn’t familiar with them, but she can’t keep her fingers and hands off of Tizoc as they lay coiled around the other on the floor of Jose’s apartment. Lita bites her lower lip, climbs on top her naked counterpart, and looks down at him, her dark tresses covering some of her naked form as her eyes devour the flesh her mouth and fingers consumed minutes earlier. The Mexican woman leans forward to relish in the shape of his mouth as her lips caress his gently, fingernails biting into his upper arms as she maintains her steady position on top the male. She looks at him with adoration before she parts her lips to speak, fingers once again playing with outlines of various tattoos. “You will tell me about these some other time, si?” She asks before regrettably peeling herself off of him. While her lustful hunger was sated, the woman was still hungry in the human, physical sense. She walks towards the kitchen, spins and blows him a kiss before disappearing into the kitchen and raids the refrigerator, looking for something to eat. Anything at this point. Lita grabs the first beer she sees, an Oculto, twists the top off and then starts putting food on the counter to make a sandwich. She’s not picky, just hungry.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose rises quietly from the couch. His skin glows almost a deep golden color in the lighting and his dark brown eyes glint almost demonically, black in the shadows cast over them as he lowers his head in thought. He has committed every detail of her body to memory and he replays the exact point where her sternum ends, where the vertebrae on her neck meet, for a moment he revels in the satiation of his physical lust… a rare occurrence for him and his heart aches at what he is about to, what he has to do to help her.
Silently he pads to his pants, discarded in a heap on the floor and he kneels down, reaching into the back pocket and withdrawing a long, thin parcel enshrouded in a cloth. He hold it before his eyes and lets the cloth fall, marvelling a moment at the glittering of the refraction of even the dimmest of light off the surface of the obsidian dagger within his grasp. A fadebeast... He thinks back to the Alpha Fadebeast he met recently in combat, the power the creature possessed as it splintered his ribs with a single blow, then his skull as he doubled over. It cannot be birthed he thinks.
He walks quietly into the hallway leading to the kitchen transferring the dagger to his left hand and leaning casually against the doorframe, allowing the wall to obscure her vision of the weapon. He watched her handiwork as she puts the sandwich together. He has never seen one before. The simplicity of the concept and the speed at which it is prepared leaves him amazed. He is still flabbergasted over the refrigerator and freezer concept. These people… they have it so easy. “Come, I will tell you about them as you eat,” he says quietly.
<Adelita> Lita is in the middle of making the sandwich when he appears in the doorframe. Her attention deviates to the male as her lips arch up in a smile, the woman putting the top slice of bread on what was almost practically an all meat sandwich before Lita puts away everything she found; from the mayonnaise to the vegetable she barely touched and the bread before she plates the sandwich and is standing in front of him. The woman stands on her tip toes and gives him another soft, delicate kiss to his jawline before she moves around him, oblivious to the weapon he is holding. There is no reason for her to suspect anything out of the ordinary, and Lita is too busy thinking about eating so she wasn't hungry anymore. About feeding the monster inside of her.
“Which one did you get first?” She asks once she claims a spot on the floor, not far from where they once were. Legs cross at her ankles as the plate is set on top of her knees. Everything about Tizoc seems so interesting, so mysterious, and Lita wants to know everything about him-or as much as he’s willing to share. She takes a bite of the sandwich before Adelita leans her back against the couch, eyes on him as he enters the room. She swallows down what she’s bitten so far, and holds the sandwich out in his direction, realizing that he might have liked one too. “Want a bite?” Maybe her words were a little too suggestive being she was sitting there, still naked, but that was Adelita in a nutshell. She wasn’t afraid to flaunt her promiscuity, especially in the arms (or in this case an apartment) of her lover’s.
Ambrose Acheron “No, you need the food for energy.” He takes a place behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders and then sliding them over to the trapezius muscle. His fingers and palm begin kneading there, massaging her slowly, firmly, he has heard this is relaxing and he needs her relaxed. He doesn’t so much tell the story of his tattoos, he shows her with memory telepathy, the meaning behind them denoting his position as a priest of Tezcatlipoca, the tribal symbols those of his sire. They were all done at the same time, along with the mutilation of his face, piercings in the ears, the bull ring, the spot between his eyes, bones of vampire hunters and Spaniard vampires of the Killer path used as the jewelry. His hands continue to work at her neck as she eats, he adds occasional kisses and nibbles to the side of her throat and the hollow where neck meets shoulder.
The obsidian dagger rests between his knees, covered now by the shadow there, his eyes scan over the back of her neck, his thumbs moving over her spine , determining the spacing between the bones there.
<Adelita> When he declines the offer of sharing the sandwich, Adelita continues to eat it, only to come to a pause when he starts to share the history of the tattoos and other markings on his face and body. The experience is unearthly to her, even though he has done this before. The woman’s lips press against the inside of his knee as he gives her a massage, this experience loosening any tension the woman once had about a large array of things that she kept to herself. Until she met Tizoc that was. Lita takes another bite of the sandwich before losing interest in it, only because it’s not raw enough. The plate is put on a table not far off to the right of them before she leans against him, or rather his hand, completely. She enjoys being touched by him; his hands firm, but comforting at the same time. She closes her eyes and sighs, a sad realization that in less than a handful of hours, dawn would be approaching and the pair would go back to their own places. Her eyes flutter open as she realizes that a handful of hours is too soon for this to end, so she turns her head slightly so that she can see him from her peripheral. “See me tomorrow?” Lita asks him before her lips once again find his flesh and press against it, the woman trailing kisses in various places.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc watches her, adjusting slightly to move the dagger so it sits beneath his shin where he can reach it unseen. His left hand comes up, cupping Adelita’s face and bringing her eyes up to his, raising her so they are nearly face to face sitting before each other, His leans forward slightly to reach her lips with his own and says something in Nahuatl she would have heard in the memories he showed her.
He had spoken the words to Coahoma after turning her, when they had fallen in love. The words tell of his love for Adelita as he stares into her eyes even as the right hand slips in holding the blade under their field of vision in a singular thrust designed to slide the dagger through the soft flesh of her throat and wedge in between the 5th and 6th vertebrae, severing the nerves to the arms and below. And attack designed to inflict both paralysis and detach her body from the brain so she wouldn’t feel what he had to do next.
“Do not fear my love,” he tells her, this time in his accented english. “You will feel nothing and I will save you from having to go through the birth as I promised. No pain.”
True to his word, unless she had resisted at the last instant, the thrust of the blade would have her numbed and prone without any discomfort.
<Adelita> When their eyes connect, Adelita is once again bewitched with deep adoration and a profound sense of trust for the male. She hears the foreign words spoken and she knows in that moment that she too feels for him the way he feels for her. Fingers wrap around his left wrist as she smiles up at him, a content sigh escaping her lips before the look vanishes and is replaced with an alarmed and bewildered look as she feels a second, maybe two of sharp pain and then nothing. The hand that was around his wrist drops dead, along with the legs that were once crossed at the ankles. No weight to her limbs, her torso or anywhere else. Eyes look down in disbelief, uncertain of where the rest of her are as he speaks to her in his calm, reassuring state. Adelita sees that she is still there, so her eyes return back to him and are once again lost within them. “I understand.” She says, believing him completely. “I trust you.” The look in her eyes match the words spoken as she looks up at him, both ready and accepting of the help Tizoc is offering her.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose gives the blade a twist to ensure separation of the vertebrae. He doesn’t want her vampiric body healing the damage before the rest of his work is done. He closes his eyes, beginning the chant to Tezcatlipoca. He offers a trade to the deity of darkness. Adelita’s life in exchange for that of the shadow thing within her. As he speaks, his hands move over her body, down over her breasts and the stop just below them, resting one hand on the solar plexus.
The obsidian knife plants home easily, parting her flesh as though it where no thicker or tougher than butter, drawing downward and slitting her belly open to the pubic mound. He brings the blade back up and cuts laterally under the rib cage for access to her heart once he is done removing the shadowspawn.
His hands burrow in, tearing the wound wide and he snakes his fingers into her womb, split open by the efficient sacrificial knife. He withdraws a thing that looks vaguely humanoid, at least parts and pieces of it, the rest seems like shadow, insubstantial yet somehow supernaturally holding it all together. The creature, even unborn struggles with him, thrashing and clawing into Adelita’s body trying to maintain its spot within her, Tiny claws rend and rip and it’s teeth gnash viciously. Ambrose thinks he sees her spinal chord sever near the tailbone with one slash. Fighting for a good handhold on the thing Tizoc finally gets a hand around its head and the other around its neck and twists his hands in a violent rending motion as he offers the creature back to the shadow realm, a popping and crackling coming from the diminutive form of the fetus. He gently sets it down before carefully opening it up with the same blade and removing its heart, and innards. One more slash of the dagger decapitates the creature. Finally it disappears into a puddle of shadow before turning into vapor.
Ambrose turns his gaze to the wreckage of Adelita’s body, placing his hand on her forehead and looking into her eyes. He hadn’t really anticipated how badly damaged her flesh would be to remove the creature.
“The pain will be unbearable when your neck heals. I can either continue to sever it every hour or so while your body heals or I can grant you a merciful rest in the shadow. I love you Adelita. I would not have you suffer. The creature… it was growing powerful within you. It would have killed you during birth.” He holds up the obsidian blade. “I can take the pain away before it starts. What would you have me do my love?”
<Adelita> Monster does not even describe what it is that is growing inside of her. Adelita had expected something-but not something so distorted, morbid and horrifying. Something so strong. The look on her face was full of alarm and panic as Tizoc wrestled to gain control of the creature that was both frightening and ugly. The distress that she feels for Tizoc and his safety is apparent as she watches him finally gain complete influence over the creature.
There is no love loss as Tizoc inflicts his desire on the creature and finally destroys it, the beast that had been within her vanishing as if it had never been within her. His attention returns back to her and Adelita smiles up at him, the look of horror gone once the creature had been taken care of. “Thank you, mi amor.” She says, barely above a murmur before he breaks the news of her physical state to the Mexican woman.
Pain. Something she wasn’t unfamiliar with. How many times had she been burned by the sun? How many times had she been shot because of her nefarious activities of thievery from various buildings in Harper Rock? But there was a cold, harsh reality two fold for the couple.
The first was that dawn would be approaching and at some point, Tizoc would need to sleep. He wouldn’t be able to control her pain as her body regenerates itself. The second was that while Tizoc and Adelita both believed the creature was destroyed, that belief was momentary. As the two decide over the Mexican woman’s fate, shadows once again embed themselves within her womb and take the shape of the creature that wasn’t going to be put down as easily as they both believed. This monstrosity was hellbent on claiming at least one victim before it went down for the final count in a fight.
She can’t feel it re-growing within her, but based on the sheer fact that she knows he can’t stay awake for many days and nights to ensure her comfort, and that he has shown her the shadow realm and never once felt fear, Adelita knows exactly how to reply. “Do what you believe is best.” She will leave it up to the male-she is firm in her faith when it comes to his decisions.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose watches the thing begin to reform within Adelita’s desecrated body. His expression doesn’t belie the truth of his failure, it becomes apparent only when he vocalizes it. “The spawn… it is returning.: He is shocked at the tenacity of the abomination, it’s grasp on the physical should have been tenuous, easily severed and yet here it it regrowing with his lover as though a part of… a part of her….
Is it feeding off her own supernatural powers of healing in order to respawn? He could stop the healing of her body were he a necromancer. but too many paths lie between him and that path. Within his chest is a sinking, heavy feeling. He’s failed. There are only two options. One, to allow the birth and kill the thing as it erupts into the world, risking it killing her. He has never heard of a female vampire giving birth to a fadebeast and living to tell the tale, but his experience in the matter is limited. The second option, perhaps the more delicate of the two, yet infinitely more damaging to Ambrose is to take her life himself and trust that she too will be able to escape the shadow realm intact as he did.
“Tezcatlipoca. Accept this soul into your embrace. Quicken her with your power and within your everlasting darkness purify her in spirit and body of the atrocity growing within her belly…”
He reaches down into the woman’s chest, his fingers making their way through her body to her heart, ensnaring it in his grasp. The whole thing has taken on a surreal, dreamlike quality to him. Even though it is her heart in his grip he feels as though his own is being rent simultaneously.
He leans forward now, straddling her hips as she had with him during their lovemaking shortly before and kisses her gently. “It will soon be over love. You will return whole and healthy. The creature will be gone.”
The obsidian dagger once more lashes out, this time with his full force behind it, slicing through sinew, muscle, bone and cartilage while at the same time his other hand withdraws, tearing her heart from the cavity of her chest and bringing it up to his mouth in one movement. His eyes close and tears flow from between the compressed lips, as his fangs pierce the organ. As set forth by the ancient and near forgotten rituals of his maker, his sire, he drinks, feeling the vampiric blood rush through his body. At first it’s pleasant, almost a high, but the rites of the old gods are not designed to bring pleasure. They are acts of sacrifice and pain, a trade-off for the aid of the sadistic deities. The pleasure soon twists to poison within him and he shakes, skin growing pale beyond even his norm as he grows ill. Within seconds he is on the floor next to Adelita, curled in a ball even as her body begins to grey, turn to ash before his bloodshot and tear-rimmed eyes.
It feels as though his veins are alight, molten lava has been poured down his throat and into his stomach and his body is decaying…
In a way he again feels like he is dying…
… he feels that way until the rising of the sun brings him the day-sleep, torpor, but even then visions of Coahoma and Adelita trouble him. He sees them in the shadows, reaching for him as if trying to draw him back into the fade. As if blaming him.
Jose The thrall makes his way up without the blonde chicana this time. Sunrise has come and gone so he figures the vampire will have too. He wonders at the fate of the hot little mamacita he found following him, that el hefe had deigned to claim for his own. She looked like she could have made for one hell of a night. He slides his key into the lock of the deadbolt and opens his door.
At first he doesn’t quite understand what he is seeing. It doesn’t make any sense. Blood is everywhere and el hefe is curled in a ball on his living room floor unconscious or dead in a pile of ash. Jose still feels the bond though so he knows the vampire is not truly dead. He runs to his spare bedroom and grasp up a blanket, throwing it over the scene and then stepping back disbelievingly. “**** me…”
The crazy life… he thought. **** my life…
~The following role play is backdated to 07.20.15~
<Adelita> All the while he talks, his eyes are on her pair and her set on his. Her free fingers come to rest comfortably on the top of his arm. It’s so easy being with him; in his presence. Tizoc is calm, soft spoken, collected and focused. Even though she doesn’t know about most the things he talks about, Lita finds herself believing in his faith. Or at least that he believes in it and so she never questions it. She just listens to it all, and absorbs what he chooses to share with her. When he professes to her being the reason for his return, Adelita looks away then. She is temporarily filled with guilt because Tizoc believes her to be something she doesn’t believe she is. He compares her to his faith and of people that seem important and mean a lot to him. “I-I-there is something not right.” Her gaze returns to his. “There is something.” Adelita stops talking when people walk by them, knowing this sort of topic shouldn’t be talked about so openly in such a place-but she wants to tell him. If he felt half the way she felt about him, he wouldn’t care, right?
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose looks Adelita over questioningly, his expression imploring her to continue. He has a very calm, serene and patient aura about him. The aura of one who is confident that everything will be exactly as it is meant to be. His gaze settle on Adelita’s eyes and he waits to see what it is she has to say. He doesn’t mention he knows about the fadebeast though he suspects it may be what she is about to confide in him. He knows of few ways to rid a vampire of that problem, none of them are very good conversation over dinner.
He gives her hand a comforting caress, letting her know that he is there for her and listening.
<Adelita> There is reassurance in the way his hand glides over hers and she smiles again. The smile is momentary, before Lita looks down at their hands and whispers what’s on her mind. "Estoy embarazada". Her fingers unlace from his and are put in her lap as she thinks about the human, the fingers on her left hand, picking at the red polish nails on her right hand. “Lo siento.” Heavy lids look up at him, fingers still working at the polish. This is an unfamiliar situation and she isn’t exactly sure why she is even apologizing to him. Or why Adelita’’s telling him something she’s certain she isn’t supposed to be telling people. Was she apologizing because she isn’t pregnant by Tizoc, or because their time together might be short lived? “I didn’t know that you existed.” She mumbled as a chip of red peeled off the bed nail she had been working on. As she thought about her personal situation, Adelita thought about Elighan, how they met and how she came to be pregnant with his little monster, and felt the harsh sting of truth. “I am not the woman you think I am.” It was true. Chances are if this was any other night, he wouldn’t give her the time of night and she might not give him it either.
Ambrose Acheron Alarm bells are going off in Tizoc’s mind.Fadebeasts… he had dealt with them in the past and all-too recently for that matter. The main thing he was worried about right now was protecting her from the birth. His people had a legend about these creatures being the spawn of evil spirits able to pass into the female body through the link vampires have with the god of the night sky. This was why the Tozoztontli bloodline was discouraged from mating, why high priests were expressly forbidden, yet here was Ambrose infatuated and lusting after a woman for the second time in his dark history. The first time had ended in tragedy. This time seemed to be doomed from the start as well.
In a way it only steeled his resolve. He found he cared for this woman in a way that was alien and inexplicable and as with all points in his life it seems he would inexorably be drawn into tragedy. Tizoc had never read Shakespeare or he would have instantly had thoughts of “star cross’d lovers”.
Had he been able to make that connection he may have ran then.
As it were though, Ambrose was no scholar of English literature. All he does is listens to her and sits in silence a long moment after Adelita has finished talking, processing this information slowly before nodding. “We will fix it. You will not birth the abomination. It is a fadebeast, not a child.” He thinks of his own encounters with the Alpha Fadebeast lately and it’s smaller cousins throughout the centuries and shows her these things through image telepathy. “These things always kill the mother after they come out. I won’t let this happen to you.”
<Adelita> His calm composure has her smile return as Adelita leans in to the male and relaxes against him. His words are comforting and his timbre has Adelita believing everything he says. That this can be fixed and that they will come to a resolve together. A hand finds the side of his face again, dark hues searching out his face as Adelita is overcome with a sense of security and attachment for the male next to her. She believes anything and everything he says, if not for his words and how they are said, then for the things, the images, Tizoc shares with Adelita. “I believe and trust you.” Such a statement wouldn’t have been said by the woman, let alone to someone she just met on the streets, but here she was, so confident that Adelita did believe these thoughts.
Before she met him, she was afraid and she should still be afraid of the monster baby she was carrying in her womb. But tonight? Tonight she felt no fear, just profound certainty that things will be alright. That the circle he spoke of would be as it should be. That everyone plays their part and his part tonight would be helping her. Adelita takes her other hand from his and places that on the other cheek, locking the two of them in a moment that was usually seen by a pair of lovers that were so absorbed in the other. Ruby red lips search the depths of his own set, solidifying her statement spoken a few seconds later. “Thank you.” She whispers against his lips, finally feeling confident that there was a plan and that plan would work, even if she didn’t know what that plan was.
Ambrose Acheron: Dark images swirl through Ambrose’s mind. The blade will cut, he knows what he will find within her. She is a creature of the shadow though, like him and as such he will be able to draw her back from its clutches after he has done what is needed. The thing must not be birthed. His eyes show a strange and foreign compassion as they move over her and her holds her tight against him, saying very little the rest of the ride to Honeymead Station. Once there he rises and guides her off the train, left arm around her waist and his hand hand fingers entwined with her’s. He can’t stand the thought of parting with her even briefly, wanting to remain in physical contact as much as possible as he walks toward West Tower toward Jose’s flat.
Once more thoughts of violent reprisal enter into his mind if Jose has not kept the place immaculate as he was ordered to. He will not have Adelita exposed to anything but the best he can offer her, she should not had to lay eyes on anything less than perfect. He again feels the tug of something within his mind, some far away piece of himself mutely screaming at him that something is far from right with this scenario. He doesn’t even try to focus his attention on it though, his attention is fully occupied by the goddess in his embrace.
<Adelita> Tizoc says nothing, but he doesn’t need to, to Lita. His presence, touch, and look in his eyes comfort Lita. As they walk, she stays close to him, even if she doesn’t have much choice because of his hold-she wants to be near him. Everything about tonight is surreal; meeting him, learning of his life, sharing her secret, wanting to stay near him, and yearning for him in such a way Adelita has never longed for another in this magnitude.
The two reach the apartment, but nothing in it is given much attention. Her eyes are on him, and even if she glances at the home on the rare occasion, Adelita sees nothing but perfection in everything about the place. She believes the male besides her is perfect in every way possible, and so nothing about what he does or doesn’t say, where they are and the things inside are flawed. Everything is perfect. “Do you mind?” Adelita uses him as support with one hand as the other undoes the heel she’s wearing, then the other before leaving them at the side of the door. When she finds her feet, there is a noticeable difference in height granted to her by the tall heels. Adelita has lost around four inches and stands at about 5’3” now instead of at the male’s height like she had seconds ago. With the shoes off to the side, Adelita’s arm works itself around his so that both hands are on him once again. Her body is positioned so that she is facing towards him, her eyes on him, soaking in every physical feature and quality of the man, as if she were in disbelief that they were here together. As if Lita were the luckiest woman in Harper Rock, because she was. How did she get so lucky to find someone like him? Someone that had lived this life for much longer than she; someone that had the answers she desperately needed? It was almost as if it were kismet. “What are we going to do?” She asks in a low, hushed tone, even if they are alone now.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc is used to being either alone or a leader. It’s been his birthright since the day of his turning over four centuries ago. Sometimes that time seems like an ocean between who he was and what he is. At others, like now the present and past flow together like a river opening up into the ocean, mixing together and forming a perfect hybrid of the man he was and the monster he is. This is one of the latter. His passion for life is unblemished by two centuries in the shadow. If anything it has increased, swelled up inside him and now that passion is focused on another being. His desire heightened by the siren’s song (unbeknownst to him) has his blood at a fever-pitch. He wants to devour this woman before him as the ocean devours the water brought forth from the river…
What are we going to do, she asks him. Ambrose is inexperienced in the physical act that creates the lowest and the highest born of people yet what he lacks in experience he makes up for with infinite patience and an unyielding desire to explore every aspect of Adelita. He knows how this has to end. The creature within her must be destroyed, must be returned back to the shadows and she must emerge purified, alone, without the monster within.
His hand reaches up, cups her cheek, low, along the jawline and his thumb runs lightly over her bottom lip as he leans forward, covering her plush lips with his own. “We are going to be one in mind, body and soul, then I am going to set you free from the creature within you Adelita.”
He wants everything that she is… he wants her body, he wants to be within her, he wants to drain her dry and possess her…
He wants to do bad things to her.
<Adelita> His words made her shiver with desire and anticipation. A man who knew what he wanted it, said it and said it as eloquently as he did had quite the appeal and was a big turn on to the woman. It didn’t matter his experience or lack of, obviously Adelita was no stranger to sexuality, hers or whoever she was with. There was a whimper as his lips claimed hers, hands going to his head and entwining her fingers within his hair as she deepened the kiss, which told Tizoc that she was delighted with his words.
Not being shy, Adelita makes the first move. She gives him another kiss, unwinds herself from his hold and takes a few steps backwards. With each step, she undoes a button on her blouse until it’s removed and then unzips the pencil skirt from her frame before she reaches the arm of the couch; the very arm she claims as she sits on it and raises a finger towards Tizoc, inviting him over to join her.
Ambrose Acheron Stepping up to Adelita he stops before her, hands reaching out to caress her face with the back of his fingers as he runs them into her hair, tilting her head back and leaning forward to reclaim her lips with his own. He deepens the kiss and allows his hand to come back, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. Tribal tattoos adorn his flesh, set off in the soft light of the apartment.
Once more his hands move to Adelita, exploring her curves, caressing her hips and moving up her waist to her breasts, covering them as he leans her back onto the couch. The siren’s song rings through his ears, increasing the ardeur smoldering within him, his eyes are for her only, remaining locked on hers with an intensity no mortal could muster. Clothing is discarded, flesh entwines with flesh, mouths seek soft and tender flesh, soft curves, hard muscle… the sound of trailing kisses becomes gasps, then becomes moans and grunts...
JoseOutside the door Jose reaches for the handle and stops hearing something within. He leans his ear against the door for a moment and listens before stepping back and looking to the blonde woman he managed to sweet talk into coming with him. “Yeah my homie’s in there with his chicana right now. Let’s go grab something to drink downstairs and then we’ll come back up in a bit ok?” The woman looks a little disappointed and amused at the same time but lets the thrall take her waist and lead her to the elevator.
<Adelita> Fingers trace over random tattoos that mean nothing to Adelita as she isn’t familiar with them, but she can’t keep her fingers and hands off of Tizoc as they lay coiled around the other on the floor of Jose’s apartment. Lita bites her lower lip, climbs on top her naked counterpart, and looks down at him, her dark tresses covering some of her naked form as her eyes devour the flesh her mouth and fingers consumed minutes earlier. The Mexican woman leans forward to relish in the shape of his mouth as her lips caress his gently, fingernails biting into his upper arms as she maintains her steady position on top the male. She looks at him with adoration before she parts her lips to speak, fingers once again playing with outlines of various tattoos. “You will tell me about these some other time, si?” She asks before regrettably peeling herself off of him. While her lustful hunger was sated, the woman was still hungry in the human, physical sense. She walks towards the kitchen, spins and blows him a kiss before disappearing into the kitchen and raids the refrigerator, looking for something to eat. Anything at this point. Lita grabs the first beer she sees, an Oculto, twists the top off and then starts putting food on the counter to make a sandwich. She’s not picky, just hungry.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose rises quietly from the couch. His skin glows almost a deep golden color in the lighting and his dark brown eyes glint almost demonically, black in the shadows cast over them as he lowers his head in thought. He has committed every detail of her body to memory and he replays the exact point where her sternum ends, where the vertebrae on her neck meet, for a moment he revels in the satiation of his physical lust… a rare occurrence for him and his heart aches at what he is about to, what he has to do to help her.
Silently he pads to his pants, discarded in a heap on the floor and he kneels down, reaching into the back pocket and withdrawing a long, thin parcel enshrouded in a cloth. He hold it before his eyes and lets the cloth fall, marvelling a moment at the glittering of the refraction of even the dimmest of light off the surface of the obsidian dagger within his grasp. A fadebeast... He thinks back to the Alpha Fadebeast he met recently in combat, the power the creature possessed as it splintered his ribs with a single blow, then his skull as he doubled over. It cannot be birthed he thinks.
He walks quietly into the hallway leading to the kitchen transferring the dagger to his left hand and leaning casually against the doorframe, allowing the wall to obscure her vision of the weapon. He watched her handiwork as she puts the sandwich together. He has never seen one before. The simplicity of the concept and the speed at which it is prepared leaves him amazed. He is still flabbergasted over the refrigerator and freezer concept. These people… they have it so easy. “Come, I will tell you about them as you eat,” he says quietly.
<Adelita> Lita is in the middle of making the sandwich when he appears in the doorframe. Her attention deviates to the male as her lips arch up in a smile, the woman putting the top slice of bread on what was almost practically an all meat sandwich before Lita puts away everything she found; from the mayonnaise to the vegetable she barely touched and the bread before she plates the sandwich and is standing in front of him. The woman stands on her tip toes and gives him another soft, delicate kiss to his jawline before she moves around him, oblivious to the weapon he is holding. There is no reason for her to suspect anything out of the ordinary, and Lita is too busy thinking about eating so she wasn't hungry anymore. About feeding the monster inside of her.
“Which one did you get first?” She asks once she claims a spot on the floor, not far from where they once were. Legs cross at her ankles as the plate is set on top of her knees. Everything about Tizoc seems so interesting, so mysterious, and Lita wants to know everything about him-or as much as he’s willing to share. She takes a bite of the sandwich before Adelita leans her back against the couch, eyes on him as he enters the room. She swallows down what she’s bitten so far, and holds the sandwich out in his direction, realizing that he might have liked one too. “Want a bite?” Maybe her words were a little too suggestive being she was sitting there, still naked, but that was Adelita in a nutshell. She wasn’t afraid to flaunt her promiscuity, especially in the arms (or in this case an apartment) of her lover’s.
Ambrose Acheron “No, you need the food for energy.” He takes a place behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders and then sliding them over to the trapezius muscle. His fingers and palm begin kneading there, massaging her slowly, firmly, he has heard this is relaxing and he needs her relaxed. He doesn’t so much tell the story of his tattoos, he shows her with memory telepathy, the meaning behind them denoting his position as a priest of Tezcatlipoca, the tribal symbols those of his sire. They were all done at the same time, along with the mutilation of his face, piercings in the ears, the bull ring, the spot between his eyes, bones of vampire hunters and Spaniard vampires of the Killer path used as the jewelry. His hands continue to work at her neck as she eats, he adds occasional kisses and nibbles to the side of her throat and the hollow where neck meets shoulder.
The obsidian dagger rests between his knees, covered now by the shadow there, his eyes scan over the back of her neck, his thumbs moving over her spine , determining the spacing between the bones there.
<Adelita> When he declines the offer of sharing the sandwich, Adelita continues to eat it, only to come to a pause when he starts to share the history of the tattoos and other markings on his face and body. The experience is unearthly to her, even though he has done this before. The woman’s lips press against the inside of his knee as he gives her a massage, this experience loosening any tension the woman once had about a large array of things that she kept to herself. Until she met Tizoc that was. Lita takes another bite of the sandwich before losing interest in it, only because it’s not raw enough. The plate is put on a table not far off to the right of them before she leans against him, or rather his hand, completely. She enjoys being touched by him; his hands firm, but comforting at the same time. She closes her eyes and sighs, a sad realization that in less than a handful of hours, dawn would be approaching and the pair would go back to their own places. Her eyes flutter open as she realizes that a handful of hours is too soon for this to end, so she turns her head slightly so that she can see him from her peripheral. “See me tomorrow?” Lita asks him before her lips once again find his flesh and press against it, the woman trailing kisses in various places.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc watches her, adjusting slightly to move the dagger so it sits beneath his shin where he can reach it unseen. His left hand comes up, cupping Adelita’s face and bringing her eyes up to his, raising her so they are nearly face to face sitting before each other, His leans forward slightly to reach her lips with his own and says something in Nahuatl she would have heard in the memories he showed her.
He had spoken the words to Coahoma after turning her, when they had fallen in love. The words tell of his love for Adelita as he stares into her eyes even as the right hand slips in holding the blade under their field of vision in a singular thrust designed to slide the dagger through the soft flesh of her throat and wedge in between the 5th and 6th vertebrae, severing the nerves to the arms and below. And attack designed to inflict both paralysis and detach her body from the brain so she wouldn’t feel what he had to do next.
“Do not fear my love,” he tells her, this time in his accented english. “You will feel nothing and I will save you from having to go through the birth as I promised. No pain.”
True to his word, unless she had resisted at the last instant, the thrust of the blade would have her numbed and prone without any discomfort.
<Adelita> When their eyes connect, Adelita is once again bewitched with deep adoration and a profound sense of trust for the male. She hears the foreign words spoken and she knows in that moment that she too feels for him the way he feels for her. Fingers wrap around his left wrist as she smiles up at him, a content sigh escaping her lips before the look vanishes and is replaced with an alarmed and bewildered look as she feels a second, maybe two of sharp pain and then nothing. The hand that was around his wrist drops dead, along with the legs that were once crossed at the ankles. No weight to her limbs, her torso or anywhere else. Eyes look down in disbelief, uncertain of where the rest of her are as he speaks to her in his calm, reassuring state. Adelita sees that she is still there, so her eyes return back to him and are once again lost within them. “I understand.” She says, believing him completely. “I trust you.” The look in her eyes match the words spoken as she looks up at him, both ready and accepting of the help Tizoc is offering her.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose gives the blade a twist to ensure separation of the vertebrae. He doesn’t want her vampiric body healing the damage before the rest of his work is done. He closes his eyes, beginning the chant to Tezcatlipoca. He offers a trade to the deity of darkness. Adelita’s life in exchange for that of the shadow thing within her. As he speaks, his hands move over her body, down over her breasts and the stop just below them, resting one hand on the solar plexus.
The obsidian knife plants home easily, parting her flesh as though it where no thicker or tougher than butter, drawing downward and slitting her belly open to the pubic mound. He brings the blade back up and cuts laterally under the rib cage for access to her heart once he is done removing the shadowspawn.
His hands burrow in, tearing the wound wide and he snakes his fingers into her womb, split open by the efficient sacrificial knife. He withdraws a thing that looks vaguely humanoid, at least parts and pieces of it, the rest seems like shadow, insubstantial yet somehow supernaturally holding it all together. The creature, even unborn struggles with him, thrashing and clawing into Adelita’s body trying to maintain its spot within her, Tiny claws rend and rip and it’s teeth gnash viciously. Ambrose thinks he sees her spinal chord sever near the tailbone with one slash. Fighting for a good handhold on the thing Tizoc finally gets a hand around its head and the other around its neck and twists his hands in a violent rending motion as he offers the creature back to the shadow realm, a popping and crackling coming from the diminutive form of the fetus. He gently sets it down before carefully opening it up with the same blade and removing its heart, and innards. One more slash of the dagger decapitates the creature. Finally it disappears into a puddle of shadow before turning into vapor.
Ambrose turns his gaze to the wreckage of Adelita’s body, placing his hand on her forehead and looking into her eyes. He hadn’t really anticipated how badly damaged her flesh would be to remove the creature.
“The pain will be unbearable when your neck heals. I can either continue to sever it every hour or so while your body heals or I can grant you a merciful rest in the shadow. I love you Adelita. I would not have you suffer. The creature… it was growing powerful within you. It would have killed you during birth.” He holds up the obsidian blade. “I can take the pain away before it starts. What would you have me do my love?”
<Adelita> Monster does not even describe what it is that is growing inside of her. Adelita had expected something-but not something so distorted, morbid and horrifying. Something so strong. The look on her face was full of alarm and panic as Tizoc wrestled to gain control of the creature that was both frightening and ugly. The distress that she feels for Tizoc and his safety is apparent as she watches him finally gain complete influence over the creature.
There is no love loss as Tizoc inflicts his desire on the creature and finally destroys it, the beast that had been within her vanishing as if it had never been within her. His attention returns back to her and Adelita smiles up at him, the look of horror gone once the creature had been taken care of. “Thank you, mi amor.” She says, barely above a murmur before he breaks the news of her physical state to the Mexican woman.
Pain. Something she wasn’t unfamiliar with. How many times had she been burned by the sun? How many times had she been shot because of her nefarious activities of thievery from various buildings in Harper Rock? But there was a cold, harsh reality two fold for the couple.
The first was that dawn would be approaching and at some point, Tizoc would need to sleep. He wouldn’t be able to control her pain as her body regenerates itself. The second was that while Tizoc and Adelita both believed the creature was destroyed, that belief was momentary. As the two decide over the Mexican woman’s fate, shadows once again embed themselves within her womb and take the shape of the creature that wasn’t going to be put down as easily as they both believed. This monstrosity was hellbent on claiming at least one victim before it went down for the final count in a fight.
She can’t feel it re-growing within her, but based on the sheer fact that she knows he can’t stay awake for many days and nights to ensure her comfort, and that he has shown her the shadow realm and never once felt fear, Adelita knows exactly how to reply. “Do what you believe is best.” She will leave it up to the male-she is firm in her faith when it comes to his decisions.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose watches the thing begin to reform within Adelita’s desecrated body. His expression doesn’t belie the truth of his failure, it becomes apparent only when he vocalizes it. “The spawn… it is returning.: He is shocked at the tenacity of the abomination, it’s grasp on the physical should have been tenuous, easily severed and yet here it it regrowing with his lover as though a part of… a part of her….
Is it feeding off her own supernatural powers of healing in order to respawn? He could stop the healing of her body were he a necromancer. but too many paths lie between him and that path. Within his chest is a sinking, heavy feeling. He’s failed. There are only two options. One, to allow the birth and kill the thing as it erupts into the world, risking it killing her. He has never heard of a female vampire giving birth to a fadebeast and living to tell the tale, but his experience in the matter is limited. The second option, perhaps the more delicate of the two, yet infinitely more damaging to Ambrose is to take her life himself and trust that she too will be able to escape the shadow realm intact as he did.
“Tezcatlipoca. Accept this soul into your embrace. Quicken her with your power and within your everlasting darkness purify her in spirit and body of the atrocity growing within her belly…”
He reaches down into the woman’s chest, his fingers making their way through her body to her heart, ensnaring it in his grasp. The whole thing has taken on a surreal, dreamlike quality to him. Even though it is her heart in his grip he feels as though his own is being rent simultaneously.
He leans forward now, straddling her hips as she had with him during their lovemaking shortly before and kisses her gently. “It will soon be over love. You will return whole and healthy. The creature will be gone.”
The obsidian dagger once more lashes out, this time with his full force behind it, slicing through sinew, muscle, bone and cartilage while at the same time his other hand withdraws, tearing her heart from the cavity of her chest and bringing it up to his mouth in one movement. His eyes close and tears flow from between the compressed lips, as his fangs pierce the organ. As set forth by the ancient and near forgotten rituals of his maker, his sire, he drinks, feeling the vampiric blood rush through his body. At first it’s pleasant, almost a high, but the rites of the old gods are not designed to bring pleasure. They are acts of sacrifice and pain, a trade-off for the aid of the sadistic deities. The pleasure soon twists to poison within him and he shakes, skin growing pale beyond even his norm as he grows ill. Within seconds he is on the floor next to Adelita, curled in a ball even as her body begins to grey, turn to ash before his bloodshot and tear-rimmed eyes.
It feels as though his veins are alight, molten lava has been poured down his throat and into his stomach and his body is decaying…
In a way he again feels like he is dying…
… he feels that way until the rising of the sun brings him the day-sleep, torpor, but even then visions of Coahoma and Adelita trouble him. He sees them in the shadows, reaching for him as if trying to draw him back into the fade. As if blaming him.
Jose The thrall makes his way up without the blonde chicana this time. Sunrise has come and gone so he figures the vampire will have too. He wonders at the fate of the hot little mamacita he found following him, that el hefe had deigned to claim for his own. She looked like she could have made for one hell of a night. He slides his key into the lock of the deadbolt and opens his door.
At first he doesn’t quite understand what he is seeing. It doesn’t make any sense. Blood is everywhere and el hefe is curled in a ball on his living room floor unconscious or dead in a pile of ash. Jose still feels the bond though so he knows the vampire is not truly dead. He runs to his spare bedroom and grasp up a blanket, throwing it over the scene and then stepping back disbelievingly. “**** me…”
The crazy life… he thought. **** my life…
I'm a marquise diamond
Could even make that Tiffany jealous.
* Adelita has mortal aura and healthy complexion *
Could even make that Tiffany jealous.
* Adelita has mortal aura and healthy complexion *
-
Ambrose Acheron
- Registered User
- Posts: 376
- Joined: 19 Jun 2015, 14:20
- CrowNet Handle: The Smoking Mirror
- Location: Harper Rock
- Contact:
De Amor y Sangre (Of Love and Blood) Chapter 2
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
~The following role play is backdated to 08.03.15~
From: Adelita
To: Ambrose Acheron
Subject: RE: Items
Message:
I believe you may have a few things of mine. Or at least your thrall does.
May I get them back?
Lita
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From: Jose
To: Adelita
Subject: RE: Stuff
Message:
Hey mamacita, our mutual friend told me to make sure you know he still got your stuff so hit me up when you wanna set a time to meet up and get it back. Nice license by the way, you lie to the DMV or el hefe?
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From: Adelita
To: Jose
Subject: RE: RE: Stuff
Message:
Let me get this straight...he has it, but you and I are supposed to meet so you can give me back the things he still has? No, if he has them, he should return them to me. If he could spend hours with me, what is five more minutes to give me my things?
As for your question, don`t play dense, Jose. Use the head on your shoulders that hosts that endearing little brain of yours and think about why someone might have a fake I.D. I lied to no one, I just have the right connections.
Now, I don't expect to hear back from you because I don't deal with the middle man. It`s just not smart business.
Lita
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From: Jose
To: Adelita
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Stuff
Message:
Chica, you gotta understand somethin bout el hefe. He don`t think like you and me. That and I ain`t seen him in days. Not since the night after you two fucked up my carpet. What the **** was that? Have a romantic cuddle by the fireplace then **** in the ashes???
How did you even get home without clothes? Did you steal my clothes?
What do you know about el hefe? You was lucky enough to get out alive once now you talking about meeting him again? Chicana you got cajones bigger than most vatos I know.
Just tell me when and where, I'm sure he'll be there one way or another
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From: Adelita
To: Jose
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Stuff
Message:
He doesn't think that someone might want their clothing back? Or a purse?
Just...whatever. Tell him to meet me at The Lounge tomorrow night. With my things. In a bag, would be preferable.
No, I don't have your clothes, Jose. They aren't my style, by a long shot.
As for the rest, it's none of your business.
Lita
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From: Jose
To: Adelita
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Stuff
Message:
I hope you know what you are doing mamacita. He’ll be there…
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<Adelita> Adelita didn’t bother replying to the thrall. She was confident she knew exactly what she was doing. All she wanted was her things back. It should be a pretty simple transaction between the two of them. She didn’t plan on telling Elighan because that would mean she would have to tell him everything else; things she didn’t understand for starters.
That night Lita went to the abandoned warehouse that she used to craft things and made a couple smoke bombs, just for a good security measure for herself if things got overly weird again. She wasn’t going to go somewhere unprepared. Jose might be concerned about her, but Lita wasn’t an idiot. Normally. Once that was done, she returned back to the apartment, put the smoke bombs away in the purse she would bring tomorrow, along with a small dagger and sent Winny to go check the place out. Winny was told to take pictures of as much of the bar she could, make a reservation under her name for two and made sure to get the name of the club owner.
---
Lita checked and double checked her purse before going out. She told Elighan she was going out and did her ever infamous circle around, blew him a kiss while at the door and then headed to The Lounge as planned.
There was nothing overly elaborate about her outfit; she was dressed practical for the sake of going to a club. black heels with a top the same shade of black and a splash of color in her skirt and lips. Her purse also added a hint of color-not going the stereotypical black route. A lot of people made that mistake. She instead had a small, rectangle shaped purse that was almost the same color as the orange in her skirt-just a subtle shade off.
When Lita arrived, she scanned the room and didn’t see Ambrose yet, but she knew that might not necessarily mean anything. He had a lot of tricks up his sleeve, as she found out the night they met. But then again, so did she. Winny, her thrall would follow her in about ten minutes later and would sit at the bar along with a couple of college friends she invited out, while Lita sat at the booth she was assigned while she waited for Tizoc to appear. “I’ll have a glass of your house wine. The red.” Lita said as she set her purse next to her, closest to the wall, so that she could grab it easily and he couldn’t. Jose’s words hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, that was certain.
Jose] The life of a thrall. Not something Jose had imagined when he made his way to Harper Rock from Ciudad Juarez to try and gain control of his own set. He had imagined running the streets, owning that ****, becoming el hefe and attaining power, women, wealth. Instead of that, here he is meeting with el hefe’s fucktoy who he has been instructed not to touch, to tell her something he could have emailed to her because an ancient blood drinking dead guy who apparently screws chicanas in ash piles on other people’s living room floors said to go there and talk to his fucktoy in person.
Such ********.
In he walks though as ordered, his outfit screaming street gang member to even the most casual observer, and if the outfit didn’t the gang tattoos wouldn’t leave any doubt. He looks around and spots the woman from the other week and heads on over through the crowd toward the bar. He sidles up next to her and says nothing for a moment, just looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and maybe… pity?
“So the meeting place has been changed chica. El hefe wants to meet you at his place. He sent me to escort you there. I got my car waiting outside.”
From gangster to taxi driver for another cholo’s girl. Such ********. Jose couldn’t have known that Ambrose was watching that very moment through the thralls eyes
<Adelita>Seeing Jose there wasn’t something Adelita expected. While mildly irritated, it didn’t show on her features. Adelita didn’t get up right away, instead she raised her wine glass that had arrived a few minutes ago and enjoyed the drink as her eyes wandered over the immediate area, not stopping at any one thing or person. However, since Ambrose, Tizoc or whatever he wanted to call himself had kept Lita waiting to get her things back, she was in no hurry to run right off and meet the male that decided to switch venues. “How absolutely romantic, si?” Lita muttered as she set the glass down on the bar’s surface and then slowly stood.
Winny, her thrall cast a wayward glance in Lita’s direction, one that was ignored as to not expose the woman or their potential relationship. “Lead the way,” Adelita extended her right hand towards the door after digging in her purse and leaving a twenty on the bar to pay for the drink and the service. Though she told him to lead the way, Adelita didn’t wait to head to the door, even taking the lead. So what if Winny wouldn’t be near her? Lita wasn’t overly worried about it; Winny was just another potential back up if needed, on top of others she planned the night before. What did matter was that Winny got a good look at the man Adelita was leaving with, so the back up plan changed just a little. When one door closes, another opens, or so the saying goes.
Jose] Relieved that the woman hadn’t decided to dig her heels in and wasn’t putting up a fight about going with him, Jose followed behind her without any regrets. Actually he liked the view from back here. The sway of her hips, the way her as moved, he was in a moment of thought about the things he would like to do to that *** when his thoughts were rudely interrupted by the voice of el hefe within his mind. “Keep your eyes off of her. She is not even yours to admire, thrall.”
Jose started, knocking a drink out of a guy’s hand and staring him down when the other man tried to make a scene. Jose flashed the butt of his pistol in his waistband and solved the dilemma instantly. Hurrying toward the door Jose caught up with Adelita and walked close enough not to be tempted by the swaying of her skirt. He kept his eyes forward studiously as they exited the building.
“This way chica,” he says, motioning toward a nondescript black suburban. He walks over and heads to the driver’s side, opening it up with the remote before reaching the door. Jose doesn’t get the door for Adelita, just hops in and slides the key into the ignition, starting the vehicle. Rap music blares out from the obviously custom sound system, bass thrumming through the vehicle, reverberating hard enough and loud enough to shake the mirrors on the doors visibly.
Jose waits for the woman to get in, thoughts of how to escape this hell he has found himself in flitting through his mind.
Ambrose Acheron Within the darkness of the mostly dried up aquifer below the abandoned factory Ambrose calls home the man known as Ambrose to most, Tizoc to very very few opens his eyes, severing the tie with Jose which allows him to see through the thralls eyes. He does this just long enough to walk toward a fadeportal within the derelict chamber and step through, reappearing at the Swansdale Station.
The short jaunt through the night air is refreshing to Tizoc. It helps clear his mind. He has been trying to puzzle out what exactly happened with Adelita for over a week now. Something had triggered feelings he had nearly forgotten after the death of his beloved Coahoma. He frowns trying to fathom how those feelings, long dead he had thought, had come flooding back and had connected him to thoroughly with her.
No matter. He would once again be within her presence shortly and would see if she had any answers. Crossing the street and making his way to the side of the building, the same factory he has just left he enters through the damaged section of the wall used as a means of entry and egress by most of those who come here. The flood is still tinted by the blood spilled during the rapidfire siring of his three childer though the smell of the blood, even the sight of it sparks no thirst within the aged monster. A fitting place for a reunion. This is where he had been when this whole thing began. Adelita’s belongings rest on the table behind him, laid out as if on display.
He waits.
<Adelita> Was she surprised at the type of vehicle Jose drove? Not at all. Her padre owned a few, higher class models when he was alive and she was more than familiar with the type of vehicle. The name might be different, but they were almost all laid out the same. Seat wise; interior (could only choose from so many options in this sort of vehicle) and of course the stereo system. Her padre wasn’t big into that sort of thing, but a lot of his men were.
Before she got in, her phone buzzed once, indicating a text message. She could only assume it was from Winny, and ignored it for now. With it in the back of her mind, Adelita opened up the door and got in, with a not so subtle suggestion to Jose, “Chivalry isn’t dead. It might actually help you get laid more.” The suggestion might have gone unheard because of the music playing, but it was said regardless. The woman closed the door after she got in and buckled up. No way did she trust his driving-dead or not.
They drove in silence for a while until Adelita couldn’t take the thump, thumping of the base. She sat forward and turned the sound off with a swift turn of the knob before sitting back in the seat she occupied. “While all this is so absolutely amazing, care to tell me where we are going? Have I over-dressed?” She didn’t care personally, however she was hoping that if he refused to tell her where they were going, he might tell other details based on the last question she asked.
Jose The look on Jose’s face. If looks could kill was an understatement. She had turned off his stereo. She had touched the stereo. “Oh hell naw…” he struggles to even find the words that could explain how badly she had just fucked up while at the same time was gripped by the fear of what el hefe would do to him if she just got out of the car and walked off. He cleared his throat, glaring at her as though he could shoot her dead with his icy stare. “Ok, I wouldn’t **** with your jams chicana. That wasn’t right. We’re going to the ganglands, there’s a building there, right close to when we first met, when you were stalking me looking like you wanted to jump my dick. You remember?”
He reaches over, turns his music back on but compromises by turning it down so they can talk if she wants. Why do women always want to talk? Why can’t they just enjoy a few minutes of silence for a change?
“I felt kinda bad for you when el hefe said he’d see you again, but then you went and fucked with my tunes. You don’t never turn down a man’s tunes. You never learned that chica?”
He stomps the accelerator, pulls out into traffic and starts heading toward the slums. “As far as being overdressed, you left your clothes on my floor and did some naked walk of shame, I think for you everything might be overdressed eh?”
Ambrose Acheron Watching through Jose’s eyes and listening to how he spoke to the woman Ambrose waited to see the elder vampire gritted his teeth. His thrall was not aware of course that Ambrose could do this, but that was for the best. He had the feeling the young gangster was close to a mental breakdown already from the stress and strain put on his fragile mortal mind. Everything that Ambrose has exposed him to was definitely wearing on the human. Sooner rather than later he would need a new thrall.
He whispers now into Adelita’s mind telepathically, “No fear, I will not harm you. I want to understand what happened. I want to speak with you. The place you chose was not to my liking, it is too loud and too many mortal eyes. I would have you alone, I am comfortable with you alone.”
The vampire keeps his own eyes closed, watching the world through the eyes of the mortal thrall barrelling down the road toward him with a woman Tizoc/Ambrose doesn’t know if he loves.
<Adelita> All Adelita could do was roll her eyes at Jose’s outburst over some music. “What isn’t right is your driving. Keep your eyes on the road before you get killed, idiota.” Lita turned her attention away from Jose then, what he decided was up to him. She would walk away ‘fine,’ if he crashed the car over two minutes of silence, but she wasn’t so sure he would be.
Her teeth grind together when Jose comments on her activities with Ambrose, the woman tilting her head to the side so that her attention was completely on him as she called his name. “Jose?” Her tone was soft and silvery as a hand reaches out and touches his arm so she can get his undivided attention. “As stimulating and engaging as our conversations are, zip it.” She smiled wider at him before Adelita released her hold on him and returned her attention to the window on her right as she watched the scenery pass by. Yes, she knew exactly where they were going now that they were in the right district.
Her thoughts slip to her phone; a replacement she had to get because Tizoc still had her old one in his possession. Adelita is all too aware that she has a text message that needs replying to and so with great hope she opens her purse and grabs the phone out, hoping Jose won’t attempt to stop her in any way. With him driving and swayed to be nicer, Adelita felt she could confidently reply to her thrall without many interruptions from the male next to her.
However, the other male in both their lives picked just the right time to make his presence known to the woman. Her fingers remain wrapped around the phone and all the woman can do is shake her head. If he believed she knew anything more than he did, he was going to be very disappointed. It seemed they both were going to be that tonight.
Jose He has felt this before… something el hefe does. Some weird kind of mind control thing. Is she like him? No way. If he has gotten attitude with el hefe like that he’d have been killed. She can’t be like him. Nah, Jose dismisses that thought from his head. Damn he does feel most disposed toward the lady now though. He glances down at her legs as he drives. Nice he thinks, imagining them wrapped around him as he…
Swerves hard to avoid an oncoming car.
Pulling back into his own lane Jose glances over at Adelita and mumbles an apology.
The drive doesn’t take too long even in late evening traffic since they are headed to a place few people head to as night falls. Presently they arrive near the Newborough Station and Jose pulls over in front of the abandoned factory. “Yeah, ok, so let’s not mention the whole almost smashing us into another car thing please? You have no idea what el hefe can be like…”
The thralls eyes search hers hoping to find some measure of mercy contained within them.
Ambrose Acheron The near accident causing stare at Adelita’s legs had not escaped Ambrose’s notice and he makes a mental note to discipline the man later on. For now he opens his eyes, disconnecting his mind from Jose’s once more and walks the the front of the warehouse, opening up a door and stepping out into the night.
He approaches the parked suburban and reaches out, opening the door of the passenger side and offering his hand to Adelita without a word spoke aloud. Into her mind he says “Come, your belongings are within. We shall speak inside.”
His eyes, dark pools burning with something, (curiosity? lust? conviction?) it’s hard to tell what, lock with hers and search, perhaps seeking the unfamiliar feeling they had found the last time they met.
<Adelita> The quick swerve had her eyes and focus deviating from Ambrose and the phone in her hands, to Jose. She forgot how influential her personality could be and the repercussions of using her powers; especially pacification. The Mexican woman just shakes her head and mumbles something to the effect of how stupid the thrall was before she puts the phone back in her purse; once again the message from her own thrall going unanswered.
Thankfully they didn’t have too much further to go before they are right where they need to be and the door that she is closest to is opened. Her brown hues land on the offered hand as Adelita takes a few seconds to collect her frame of mind. Just seeing the hand brought a string of emotions to the woman that she wasn’t comfortable with.
Her tiny hand finds his and she finally steps out and their eyes meet. They are once again the same height as the night they met and she can’t help but feel naked standing there as he searches the depths of her eyes. Lita steps backwards with her right foot, but doesn’t remove her hand from his. “Thank you for meeting with me.” Not what the woman was expecting to say when they met again, having thought a slew of nasty comments to say to him nights prior, but when face to face with the man, Adelita seemed to forget why she was so angry with him to begin with.
Ambrose Acheron Dismissing the thrall mentally Ambrose snakes an arm around Adelita’s waist and proceeds to lead her toward the factory with a smile. The feelings that had been there aren’t the same he feels something for her, there is definitely an attraction, there is lust, but it’s not overwhelming his reason as it had. Still, he is very fond of the woman and curious as to what triggered the entire episode. prior. Memories of that night come flooding into his mind, her eyes, her taste… the feeling of her skin on his, of being within her. Ambrose hasn’t laid with a woman since Coahoma and to him there has to be some meaning within the night that remains undiscovered.
“How could I not? That night was so different from anything I have experienced…” something is tickling the back of his mind. A memory, something he was told long ago. He can’t seem to place it though.
Entering the warehouse, the trashcans that are used as fire pits, the remains of the fire on the concrete floor, a metal grill still lying atop them, blankets surrounding the ashes… it brings back memories of embracing Vega, Kika and Machk. It seems like tonight is a night for the shades of the past within the mind of the elder Allurist.
He motions to a nearby table still with Adelita’s hand in his own where her belongings are laid out, a duffel bag next to them for ease of carrying. “What do you know of that night when we met Adelita? What did you feel?” Ambrose could likely read her thoughts to find out, but he didn’t wish to invade her like that. Not without her permission.
<Adelita> She doesn’t say anything as they walk towards the abandoned warehouse, she lets him take the lead on anything he wants to discuss. Different. That was one of many ways to put it. Strange? Intense? Crazy? Those came to the young woman’s mind initially, not so much ‘different.’
When they get inside, she looks around and sees her things before he points them out. The reason she came here tonight. She doesn’t move to get them, she’s not rude. He hasn’t threatened her, so there was no hurry. Lita sees her things are there, safe and sound, so the woman is put at ease. Most things in there are replaceable. Some things, not so much. Like the fake identity Elighan forged for her so she could attempt to start over in Canada.
The woman turns to face him with a heavy sigh after shaking her head. “Nothing. I know nothing of that night, Ambrose. Tizoc. Which ever you want to be called.” Lita looks anywhere but at him when she has to think about the things she felt that night. “A lot of things.” Adelita said quietly before continuing on. “I was not myself, as you remember. I had that...thing inside of me.” Adelita returned her gaze to him after shivering, recalling how the tiny monster looked when he pulled it out of her. “Fear. Confusion. Desire. Lust. Those are some of the many things I felt that night.”
Ambrose Acheron “I have theories,” he begins. “There are several mythical beings known to cause reactions like this. Rusalka, Sirens, perelesnyk, all are capable of making others fall to lust for a time. `Not to mention deities such as Cupid, Aphrodites and the like..” He pauses looking to her to see if she reacts to this at all.
Ambrose pauses, looking to the concrete floor silently as he thinks.“There could be two other things. If an Allurist perhaps manifested a different and new ability…” He doesn’t believe this is the case. The vibe of everything does not feel vampiric. Most vampire abilities benefit the vampire directly or harm others. They aren’t typically the kind of being who simply develop matchmaking abilities. Ambrose attributes this to the nature of the shadow and the inherent need for secrecy and self defense.
He hesitates a moment and then looks deep into her eyes searching them for answers. “Barring those things I would say you could be the wraith of Coahoma made flesh once more…”
~The following role play is backdated to 08.03.15~
From: Adelita
To: Ambrose Acheron
Subject: RE: Items
Message:
I believe you may have a few things of mine. Or at least your thrall does.
May I get them back?
Lita
------------------------
From: Jose
To: Adelita
Subject: RE: Stuff
Message:
Hey mamacita, our mutual friend told me to make sure you know he still got your stuff so hit me up when you wanna set a time to meet up and get it back. Nice license by the way, you lie to the DMV or el hefe?
------------------------
From: Adelita
To: Jose
Subject: RE: RE: Stuff
Message:
Let me get this straight...he has it, but you and I are supposed to meet so you can give me back the things he still has? No, if he has them, he should return them to me. If he could spend hours with me, what is five more minutes to give me my things?
As for your question, don`t play dense, Jose. Use the head on your shoulders that hosts that endearing little brain of yours and think about why someone might have a fake I.D. I lied to no one, I just have the right connections.
Now, I don't expect to hear back from you because I don't deal with the middle man. It`s just not smart business.
Lita
------------------------
From: Jose
To: Adelita
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Stuff
Message:
Chica, you gotta understand somethin bout el hefe. He don`t think like you and me. That and I ain`t seen him in days. Not since the night after you two fucked up my carpet. What the **** was that? Have a romantic cuddle by the fireplace then **** in the ashes???
How did you even get home without clothes? Did you steal my clothes?
What do you know about el hefe? You was lucky enough to get out alive once now you talking about meeting him again? Chicana you got cajones bigger than most vatos I know.
Just tell me when and where, I'm sure he'll be there one way or another
------------------------
From: Adelita
To: Jose
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Stuff
Message:
He doesn't think that someone might want their clothing back? Or a purse?
Just...whatever. Tell him to meet me at The Lounge tomorrow night. With my things. In a bag, would be preferable.
No, I don't have your clothes, Jose. They aren't my style, by a long shot.
As for the rest, it's none of your business.
Lita
------------------------
From: Jose
To: Adelita
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Stuff
Message:
I hope you know what you are doing mamacita. He’ll be there…
------------------------
<Adelita> Adelita didn’t bother replying to the thrall. She was confident she knew exactly what she was doing. All she wanted was her things back. It should be a pretty simple transaction between the two of them. She didn’t plan on telling Elighan because that would mean she would have to tell him everything else; things she didn’t understand for starters.
That night Lita went to the abandoned warehouse that she used to craft things and made a couple smoke bombs, just for a good security measure for herself if things got overly weird again. She wasn’t going to go somewhere unprepared. Jose might be concerned about her, but Lita wasn’t an idiot. Normally. Once that was done, she returned back to the apartment, put the smoke bombs away in the purse she would bring tomorrow, along with a small dagger and sent Winny to go check the place out. Winny was told to take pictures of as much of the bar she could, make a reservation under her name for two and made sure to get the name of the club owner.
---
Lita checked and double checked her purse before going out. She told Elighan she was going out and did her ever infamous circle around, blew him a kiss while at the door and then headed to The Lounge as planned.
There was nothing overly elaborate about her outfit; she was dressed practical for the sake of going to a club. black heels with a top the same shade of black and a splash of color in her skirt and lips. Her purse also added a hint of color-not going the stereotypical black route. A lot of people made that mistake. She instead had a small, rectangle shaped purse that was almost the same color as the orange in her skirt-just a subtle shade off.
When Lita arrived, she scanned the room and didn’t see Ambrose yet, but she knew that might not necessarily mean anything. He had a lot of tricks up his sleeve, as she found out the night they met. But then again, so did she. Winny, her thrall would follow her in about ten minutes later and would sit at the bar along with a couple of college friends she invited out, while Lita sat at the booth she was assigned while she waited for Tizoc to appear. “I’ll have a glass of your house wine. The red.” Lita said as she set her purse next to her, closest to the wall, so that she could grab it easily and he couldn’t. Jose’s words hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, that was certain.
Jose] The life of a thrall. Not something Jose had imagined when he made his way to Harper Rock from Ciudad Juarez to try and gain control of his own set. He had imagined running the streets, owning that ****, becoming el hefe and attaining power, women, wealth. Instead of that, here he is meeting with el hefe’s fucktoy who he has been instructed not to touch, to tell her something he could have emailed to her because an ancient blood drinking dead guy who apparently screws chicanas in ash piles on other people’s living room floors said to go there and talk to his fucktoy in person.
Such ********.
In he walks though as ordered, his outfit screaming street gang member to even the most casual observer, and if the outfit didn’t the gang tattoos wouldn’t leave any doubt. He looks around and spots the woman from the other week and heads on over through the crowd toward the bar. He sidles up next to her and says nothing for a moment, just looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and maybe… pity?
“So the meeting place has been changed chica. El hefe wants to meet you at his place. He sent me to escort you there. I got my car waiting outside.”
From gangster to taxi driver for another cholo’s girl. Such ********. Jose couldn’t have known that Ambrose was watching that very moment through the thralls eyes
<Adelita>Seeing Jose there wasn’t something Adelita expected. While mildly irritated, it didn’t show on her features. Adelita didn’t get up right away, instead she raised her wine glass that had arrived a few minutes ago and enjoyed the drink as her eyes wandered over the immediate area, not stopping at any one thing or person. However, since Ambrose, Tizoc or whatever he wanted to call himself had kept Lita waiting to get her things back, she was in no hurry to run right off and meet the male that decided to switch venues. “How absolutely romantic, si?” Lita muttered as she set the glass down on the bar’s surface and then slowly stood.
Winny, her thrall cast a wayward glance in Lita’s direction, one that was ignored as to not expose the woman or their potential relationship. “Lead the way,” Adelita extended her right hand towards the door after digging in her purse and leaving a twenty on the bar to pay for the drink and the service. Though she told him to lead the way, Adelita didn’t wait to head to the door, even taking the lead. So what if Winny wouldn’t be near her? Lita wasn’t overly worried about it; Winny was just another potential back up if needed, on top of others she planned the night before. What did matter was that Winny got a good look at the man Adelita was leaving with, so the back up plan changed just a little. When one door closes, another opens, or so the saying goes.
Jose] Relieved that the woman hadn’t decided to dig her heels in and wasn’t putting up a fight about going with him, Jose followed behind her without any regrets. Actually he liked the view from back here. The sway of her hips, the way her as moved, he was in a moment of thought about the things he would like to do to that *** when his thoughts were rudely interrupted by the voice of el hefe within his mind. “Keep your eyes off of her. She is not even yours to admire, thrall.”
Jose started, knocking a drink out of a guy’s hand and staring him down when the other man tried to make a scene. Jose flashed the butt of his pistol in his waistband and solved the dilemma instantly. Hurrying toward the door Jose caught up with Adelita and walked close enough not to be tempted by the swaying of her skirt. He kept his eyes forward studiously as they exited the building.
“This way chica,” he says, motioning toward a nondescript black suburban. He walks over and heads to the driver’s side, opening it up with the remote before reaching the door. Jose doesn’t get the door for Adelita, just hops in and slides the key into the ignition, starting the vehicle. Rap music blares out from the obviously custom sound system, bass thrumming through the vehicle, reverberating hard enough and loud enough to shake the mirrors on the doors visibly.
Jose waits for the woman to get in, thoughts of how to escape this hell he has found himself in flitting through his mind.
Ambrose Acheron Within the darkness of the mostly dried up aquifer below the abandoned factory Ambrose calls home the man known as Ambrose to most, Tizoc to very very few opens his eyes, severing the tie with Jose which allows him to see through the thralls eyes. He does this just long enough to walk toward a fadeportal within the derelict chamber and step through, reappearing at the Swansdale Station.
The short jaunt through the night air is refreshing to Tizoc. It helps clear his mind. He has been trying to puzzle out what exactly happened with Adelita for over a week now. Something had triggered feelings he had nearly forgotten after the death of his beloved Coahoma. He frowns trying to fathom how those feelings, long dead he had thought, had come flooding back and had connected him to thoroughly with her.
No matter. He would once again be within her presence shortly and would see if she had any answers. Crossing the street and making his way to the side of the building, the same factory he has just left he enters through the damaged section of the wall used as a means of entry and egress by most of those who come here. The flood is still tinted by the blood spilled during the rapidfire siring of his three childer though the smell of the blood, even the sight of it sparks no thirst within the aged monster. A fitting place for a reunion. This is where he had been when this whole thing began. Adelita’s belongings rest on the table behind him, laid out as if on display.
He waits.
<Adelita> Was she surprised at the type of vehicle Jose drove? Not at all. Her padre owned a few, higher class models when he was alive and she was more than familiar with the type of vehicle. The name might be different, but they were almost all laid out the same. Seat wise; interior (could only choose from so many options in this sort of vehicle) and of course the stereo system. Her padre wasn’t big into that sort of thing, but a lot of his men were.
Before she got in, her phone buzzed once, indicating a text message. She could only assume it was from Winny, and ignored it for now. With it in the back of her mind, Adelita opened up the door and got in, with a not so subtle suggestion to Jose, “Chivalry isn’t dead. It might actually help you get laid more.” The suggestion might have gone unheard because of the music playing, but it was said regardless. The woman closed the door after she got in and buckled up. No way did she trust his driving-dead or not.
They drove in silence for a while until Adelita couldn’t take the thump, thumping of the base. She sat forward and turned the sound off with a swift turn of the knob before sitting back in the seat she occupied. “While all this is so absolutely amazing, care to tell me where we are going? Have I over-dressed?” She didn’t care personally, however she was hoping that if he refused to tell her where they were going, he might tell other details based on the last question she asked.
Jose The look on Jose’s face. If looks could kill was an understatement. She had turned off his stereo. She had touched the stereo. “Oh hell naw…” he struggles to even find the words that could explain how badly she had just fucked up while at the same time was gripped by the fear of what el hefe would do to him if she just got out of the car and walked off. He cleared his throat, glaring at her as though he could shoot her dead with his icy stare. “Ok, I wouldn’t **** with your jams chicana. That wasn’t right. We’re going to the ganglands, there’s a building there, right close to when we first met, when you were stalking me looking like you wanted to jump my dick. You remember?”
He reaches over, turns his music back on but compromises by turning it down so they can talk if she wants. Why do women always want to talk? Why can’t they just enjoy a few minutes of silence for a change?
“I felt kinda bad for you when el hefe said he’d see you again, but then you went and fucked with my tunes. You don’t never turn down a man’s tunes. You never learned that chica?”
He stomps the accelerator, pulls out into traffic and starts heading toward the slums. “As far as being overdressed, you left your clothes on my floor and did some naked walk of shame, I think for you everything might be overdressed eh?”
Ambrose Acheron Watching through Jose’s eyes and listening to how he spoke to the woman Ambrose waited to see the elder vampire gritted his teeth. His thrall was not aware of course that Ambrose could do this, but that was for the best. He had the feeling the young gangster was close to a mental breakdown already from the stress and strain put on his fragile mortal mind. Everything that Ambrose has exposed him to was definitely wearing on the human. Sooner rather than later he would need a new thrall.
He whispers now into Adelita’s mind telepathically, “No fear, I will not harm you. I want to understand what happened. I want to speak with you. The place you chose was not to my liking, it is too loud and too many mortal eyes. I would have you alone, I am comfortable with you alone.”
The vampire keeps his own eyes closed, watching the world through the eyes of the mortal thrall barrelling down the road toward him with a woman Tizoc/Ambrose doesn’t know if he loves.
<Adelita> All Adelita could do was roll her eyes at Jose’s outburst over some music. “What isn’t right is your driving. Keep your eyes on the road before you get killed, idiota.” Lita turned her attention away from Jose then, what he decided was up to him. She would walk away ‘fine,’ if he crashed the car over two minutes of silence, but she wasn’t so sure he would be.
Her teeth grind together when Jose comments on her activities with Ambrose, the woman tilting her head to the side so that her attention was completely on him as she called his name. “Jose?” Her tone was soft and silvery as a hand reaches out and touches his arm so she can get his undivided attention. “As stimulating and engaging as our conversations are, zip it.” She smiled wider at him before Adelita released her hold on him and returned her attention to the window on her right as she watched the scenery pass by. Yes, she knew exactly where they were going now that they were in the right district.
Her thoughts slip to her phone; a replacement she had to get because Tizoc still had her old one in his possession. Adelita is all too aware that she has a text message that needs replying to and so with great hope she opens her purse and grabs the phone out, hoping Jose won’t attempt to stop her in any way. With him driving and swayed to be nicer, Adelita felt she could confidently reply to her thrall without many interruptions from the male next to her.
However, the other male in both their lives picked just the right time to make his presence known to the woman. Her fingers remain wrapped around the phone and all the woman can do is shake her head. If he believed she knew anything more than he did, he was going to be very disappointed. It seemed they both were going to be that tonight.
Jose He has felt this before… something el hefe does. Some weird kind of mind control thing. Is she like him? No way. If he has gotten attitude with el hefe like that he’d have been killed. She can’t be like him. Nah, Jose dismisses that thought from his head. Damn he does feel most disposed toward the lady now though. He glances down at her legs as he drives. Nice he thinks, imagining them wrapped around him as he…
Swerves hard to avoid an oncoming car.
Pulling back into his own lane Jose glances over at Adelita and mumbles an apology.
The drive doesn’t take too long even in late evening traffic since they are headed to a place few people head to as night falls. Presently they arrive near the Newborough Station and Jose pulls over in front of the abandoned factory. “Yeah, ok, so let’s not mention the whole almost smashing us into another car thing please? You have no idea what el hefe can be like…”
The thralls eyes search hers hoping to find some measure of mercy contained within them.
Ambrose Acheron The near accident causing stare at Adelita’s legs had not escaped Ambrose’s notice and he makes a mental note to discipline the man later on. For now he opens his eyes, disconnecting his mind from Jose’s once more and walks the the front of the warehouse, opening up a door and stepping out into the night.
He approaches the parked suburban and reaches out, opening the door of the passenger side and offering his hand to Adelita without a word spoke aloud. Into her mind he says “Come, your belongings are within. We shall speak inside.”
His eyes, dark pools burning with something, (curiosity? lust? conviction?) it’s hard to tell what, lock with hers and search, perhaps seeking the unfamiliar feeling they had found the last time they met.
<Adelita> The quick swerve had her eyes and focus deviating from Ambrose and the phone in her hands, to Jose. She forgot how influential her personality could be and the repercussions of using her powers; especially pacification. The Mexican woman just shakes her head and mumbles something to the effect of how stupid the thrall was before she puts the phone back in her purse; once again the message from her own thrall going unanswered.
Thankfully they didn’t have too much further to go before they are right where they need to be and the door that she is closest to is opened. Her brown hues land on the offered hand as Adelita takes a few seconds to collect her frame of mind. Just seeing the hand brought a string of emotions to the woman that she wasn’t comfortable with.
Her tiny hand finds his and she finally steps out and their eyes meet. They are once again the same height as the night they met and she can’t help but feel naked standing there as he searches the depths of her eyes. Lita steps backwards with her right foot, but doesn’t remove her hand from his. “Thank you for meeting with me.” Not what the woman was expecting to say when they met again, having thought a slew of nasty comments to say to him nights prior, but when face to face with the man, Adelita seemed to forget why she was so angry with him to begin with.
Ambrose Acheron Dismissing the thrall mentally Ambrose snakes an arm around Adelita’s waist and proceeds to lead her toward the factory with a smile. The feelings that had been there aren’t the same he feels something for her, there is definitely an attraction, there is lust, but it’s not overwhelming his reason as it had. Still, he is very fond of the woman and curious as to what triggered the entire episode. prior. Memories of that night come flooding into his mind, her eyes, her taste… the feeling of her skin on his, of being within her. Ambrose hasn’t laid with a woman since Coahoma and to him there has to be some meaning within the night that remains undiscovered.
“How could I not? That night was so different from anything I have experienced…” something is tickling the back of his mind. A memory, something he was told long ago. He can’t seem to place it though.
Entering the warehouse, the trashcans that are used as fire pits, the remains of the fire on the concrete floor, a metal grill still lying atop them, blankets surrounding the ashes… it brings back memories of embracing Vega, Kika and Machk. It seems like tonight is a night for the shades of the past within the mind of the elder Allurist.
He motions to a nearby table still with Adelita’s hand in his own where her belongings are laid out, a duffel bag next to them for ease of carrying. “What do you know of that night when we met Adelita? What did you feel?” Ambrose could likely read her thoughts to find out, but he didn’t wish to invade her like that. Not without her permission.
<Adelita> She doesn’t say anything as they walk towards the abandoned warehouse, she lets him take the lead on anything he wants to discuss. Different. That was one of many ways to put it. Strange? Intense? Crazy? Those came to the young woman’s mind initially, not so much ‘different.’
When they get inside, she looks around and sees her things before he points them out. The reason she came here tonight. She doesn’t move to get them, she’s not rude. He hasn’t threatened her, so there was no hurry. Lita sees her things are there, safe and sound, so the woman is put at ease. Most things in there are replaceable. Some things, not so much. Like the fake identity Elighan forged for her so she could attempt to start over in Canada.
The woman turns to face him with a heavy sigh after shaking her head. “Nothing. I know nothing of that night, Ambrose. Tizoc. Which ever you want to be called.” Lita looks anywhere but at him when she has to think about the things she felt that night. “A lot of things.” Adelita said quietly before continuing on. “I was not myself, as you remember. I had that...thing inside of me.” Adelita returned her gaze to him after shivering, recalling how the tiny monster looked when he pulled it out of her. “Fear. Confusion. Desire. Lust. Those are some of the many things I felt that night.”
Ambrose Acheron “I have theories,” he begins. “There are several mythical beings known to cause reactions like this. Rusalka, Sirens, perelesnyk, all are capable of making others fall to lust for a time. `Not to mention deities such as Cupid, Aphrodites and the like..” He pauses looking to her to see if she reacts to this at all.
Ambrose pauses, looking to the concrete floor silently as he thinks.“There could be two other things. If an Allurist perhaps manifested a different and new ability…” He doesn’t believe this is the case. The vibe of everything does not feel vampiric. Most vampire abilities benefit the vampire directly or harm others. They aren’t typically the kind of being who simply develop matchmaking abilities. Ambrose attributes this to the nature of the shadow and the inherent need for secrecy and self defense.
He hesitates a moment and then looks deep into her eyes searching them for answers. “Barring those things I would say you could be the wraith of Coahoma made flesh once more…”
Occepa iuhcan yez, occeppa iuh tlamaniz, in iquin, in canin.
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Adelita (DELETED 5973)
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- Joined: 05 Jan 2015, 01:34
- CrowNet Handle: Litatine
Re: De Amor y Sangre (Of Love and Blood)
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Adelita> Adelita brought a hand to her head as she tried to absorb all of this in. To think that what had happened between them was because of someone else interfering in their lives gave the woman a sense of alarm. Could it actually be possible? Why not? There were other things in the city, things she had heard of and some things she had actually seen with her own eyes. But to think someone had sway over the things she did that night with Ambrose…
Lita shook her head and let the thought vanish with that shake. An Allurist? Was he potentially suggesting? “It wasn’t me.” Adelita said, just in case he was suggesting that it might have been her. And since he suggested it, Adelita didn’t believe for a second he possessed a power like that. So, who could it be? Adelita knew very few people personally. Niklaus? Doubtful. Elighan was a human, but did have some crazy powers and then there was Robin who recently became a vampire. No, she didn’t think anyone she knew would do something like that to her. “I don’t know many people, so I don’t believe anyone would take special interest in my bedroom affairs, Ambrose.” Adelita’s eyes moved to her things again, hoping everything was still inside of it. It appeared from first glance that everything was there, but she knew very well Jose had went through her things.
His last train of thought brought her eyes to him again, the pair filled with a bewildered look as she took a step back. To think she could be the woman he loved centuries ago? That she was once someone else? “No. I’m not. I can’t be.” Adelita looked at the male apologetically. “I am just me. Adelita. I would know if I was someone else, si?” She had only taken just the one step back, but that step wasn’t large enough to keep the two out of the others space. Her eyes moved down to his hands, the hands that were so gentle during their time entwined in the other, but the very same hands that turned rough and methodical when he tried to get the little beast out of her. “I’m sorry. I wish I could give you some real answers, but the only one I can give is that I am almost positive I can not be your Coahoma, reincarnated.”
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose knows better. It is entirely possible for Adelita to contain the soul of Coahoma within her and be blissful ignorant of it. He doesn’t believe that is the case however and also doesn’t believe that an Allurist had anything to do with what happened to their minds. He steps back in tightly pressing himself to her and leans in, giving her a long and sweet kiss.
His hand brushes her hair back behind her ear as his lips caress hers and his palm finds its way to her cheek, the other arm wrapping around her and cupping her *** lightly, pulling her against him. He feels the stirring of lust, familiar only from the other night last week with her but the ravenous need to possess her is muted. Perhaps it is still there though. They are both Allurists after all, it only makes sense such a powerful emotion as they both had would leave echoes resonating within their psyches. One thing Ambrose has learned about their Path is that a small spark of feeling can grow into an inferno.
“Then you think something else caused… us?” The question escapes his lips in a near-whisper as they part from hers, hovering less than an inch away.
<Adelita> When their lips connect, a hand goes to his shirt and pulls at the fabric of it. It is an instinctual reaction, and one that lets him know that she doesn’t mind being kissed by the male. They have been here before, but this time...this time it seems different.
The hand on her *** has her leaning into the male’s frame as she kisses him back, searching for what it was they had that night. There is definitive attraction to the male, there is no denying that, but Adelita doesn’t have the overwhelming need to sleep with him right this second. Her body doesn’t yearn for it as badly as it had, then.
He breaks the kiss to talk, to ask a question and Adelita stays right where she is. Her eyes search the depths of his face before her hand moves from his chest to his hair, remembering what it felt like the night they ran into the other. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She admits, sighing in frustration against the lips that are not far from her own. “Maybe, just one more…” She leans up and kisses him, softly at first, remembering the hot and torrid night they shared together. Refamiliarizing herself with the taste of his lips as her hands traveled through his hair and weaved in the strands of them. She could most certainly go there again with him, Lita remembers how comfortable she was with him, how safe she felt and how...in love? she felt, but it simply didn’t feel as passionate as it had then, now. “I think so.” She finally admits after slowly, and somewhat regrettably breaking the kiss. “It-I mean, you are most definitely my type, but…” She bit her lower lip and took a step back. “It feels different, si?” She asked him, eyes fixated on the male before her.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc lets Adelita step back from him, fighting the desire to move back into her, to push her down and claim her again. Thoughts of their previous meeting flit through his mind and the effect does nothing to aid in his thinking through what exactly caused their passionate encounter. Ambrose does not engage in physical relations. He is a priest and it is against his beliefs. His sire had violated that and other rules and Ambrose knew of at least twice he had ended up killing mortals outside of the sacrificial offerings to the gods when an unwilling human female had turned up pregnant with a fadebeast.
Ambrose had tried to avoid doing the same to Adelita but to no avail. Her death had been necessity. They were children of Tezcatlipoca and every now and then had to be returned to his realm.
His eyes focus back onto hers and he nods. “Yes. Different. I still want you. I want to pull you down now and take you over and over… but it is not the same intensity as before. I feel more in control of myself now. My bloodline, they have rules prohibiting priests from doing what we did unless bonded. It is meant to prevent fade-spawn. Since you were already… infected with one I don’t believe it truly violated the spirit of that rule. Now though…”
He looks torn. There is lust fighting a tug of war with faith within his mind. Torn, as he had left her that first time. Laying on the floor, body slowly crumbling into ash as Ambrose himself retched her heartsblood out onto the carpet. The pain of her blood coursing through his body… but before that… the first sips, the initial burst of power, her essence, her true flavor… he remembers it too and he undoubtedly craves more. Many a priest of his line had been cannibalistic, drinking from their own brood to sustain their thirst, made that way from years of ritual slayings of other vampires of the differing tribes of the area.
<Adelita> She listened to not just the words he said, but how he said them. His tone was something that had comforted her the night they first met and now, here again, she was comfortable in his presence. Was it because she knew so much about him, or was it because of something more? Was it possible that she did in fact love this man? Lit wasn’t even sure she knew what love actually was, but there certainly had been a deep desire to be with and near the male the night they met. At his confession of wanting her, the woman focuses on his face. More so, his lips.
Adelita was at a dangerous intersection. She wanted him and wanted him to want her, but didn’t want anything to do with relationships. And then there was Elighan in the back of her mind. She wasn’t at an intersection, Lita was at a fork in the road. So the woman could only piece together that she didn’t love him. That what they shared that night had to nothing more than an itch that had been scratched. Still, she remembers what she said to him, and in that moment it had been the truth. Not only did she want him, but she trusted him with her very life. She couldn’t say the same about anyone else.
“Now though?” She asks, confused about his thoughts. “I did not know about your beliefs.” The Mexican woman says, in case he might believe she had and was attempting to shake them. Destroy them even. Lita was a lot of things and would do a lot of things to people, but faith? That was something she wouldn’t touch for a few reasons, most of all because her madre’s strong faith and belief in her religion. Adelita brought her right hand to her temple and rubbed at it before sighing. “I am glad for your help, and if there is any way I can ever repay you for that help…” Adelita frowned as she spoke, not sure what to say or do next. “Sex, you can get from anyone, Tizoc. A man like you...I can guarantee it.” A light laugh parted from her lips as the hand dropped from her head. Initially, Adelita just wanted to get her things and be out of his life after that. So why hadn’t she done that yet? “What do you want?” She asked him finally, so Adelita knew what she had to say or do.
Ambrose Acheron] That was the question wasn’t it? What did he want. A vampire named Ripper had shown him something. A vampire he could not get a real read on, just the feeling of power emanating from whoever it was. Even their identity had been impossible to read. There were mysteries here in Harper Rock that Ambrose had decided to attempt to uncover. Adelita had become one of those mysteries. He remembers vividly the way her body moved under his, over his, the scent and taste of her flesh agaibst his lips and tongue… most of all how he had felt when he looked at her. Never before Coahoma and never since had he felt anything akin to that yearning and passion. Even with his first childe it had been like comparing a spark to a forest fire. Adelita was the forest fire.
What did he want? What he had no right to want. He wanted her still even after the call of whatever deing had skewed his emotions has passed. He wants to know more about her. He wants to claim her.
Instead of saying this he looks at her with a curiosity written across his features. “What do you want Adelita?” He has near-answered the question as though saying that he is open to her wishes. At the same time he has dodged a bullet insofar that by voicing his desire he might make it a reality. He wants to know her take. She either has or recently had a man in her life, the fadespawn makes that clear. There is much he doesn’t know of her.
<Adelita> The dark haired Mexican woman frowns when he finally answers her with a question; the exact same one she asked of him. There is a lot she wants...maybe too much. She wants to be close to him, if only to know what they had, what they shared in was real. If it meant anything, but at the same time, Adelita was enjoying her newfound freedom as an independent woman. Free from the overbearing, protective reigns of her padre and free from the path that very same man forced her on, prior to meeting both Godric and Remington. “Answers.” She says at first, while fingers move to her lips, remembering the feel and taste of his own on hers. “Something neither of us have at the moment.” She laughed and looked around the immediate area. “I don’t think you would like the person I am. The things I have done. And things I would do, if I had to, even now.” She finally says with a defeated sigh. Adelita leaned into him, secretly longing to be held by him. In those arms, more than a week ago, the woman had never felt more safe in her life. “You know absolutely nada about me. Maybe that is what is so appealing about me, to you. What if I said I wanted you? Then what?” She looked up at him with curious eyes before the fingers that traced her lips, traced his.
“Would you cast aside your bloodline’s rules, Tizoc? I don’t follow your rules. I see nothing wrong with what we did that night and wouldn’t stop just because we weren’t...bonded.?” The last part of her sentence was asked more like a question. “You professed your love for me twice, without knowing me. How can you be so confident?” As there is more time that passes and she talks more, Adelita remembers how...hurt? she was as nights went by and not once had he reached out for her after she returned from her decided death. “You said you loved me, but not once did you comfort me as you did before I died, or eased my mind in that place. I reached out to you for my things nights after I got back. Is that how you treat things you love, Ambrose?” Lita stepped out of his frame as she looked up at him, the hurt evident in her face for a fraction of a second before she looked away from him and let it vanish. “If it is, then I can say without a doubt, that as little as I know about love, real love, that you do not love me.”
Ambrose Acheron All of her questions were fair. Ambrose could not bring himself to tell her that he had been retching up every ounce of blood his body held while she was in the shadow. When he had drank her heartsblood, the vampiric blood had being at first an aphrodisiac and then had quickly turned to venom within his body. He couldn’t tell her he suffered from a weakness to toxins because he was unsure if he had passed this curse along to the rest of his line and by telling her another telepath might ferret that out. It could endanger his brood as surely as his sire’s feeding habits once had. Feeding habits that the memory of Adelita’s blood stir within Tizoc himself.
“If I could have met with you… seen you… I would have.” The words leave his mouth in a dry whisper. Pained, raw and his face shows a weariness not unlike resignation. “All I can say is I very nearly joined you in the fade that night and it took some time to recover.”
He reaches out and take her hand in his, bringing it up toward his face with her palm up. His other hand trails it’s index finger along the inside of her wrist. “The blood that flows within you… I had to drink as part of the sacrifice and it had an... effect in the quantities needed to satiate the needs of the gods.”
He kisses her palm and her inner wrist lightly before letting go of her hand. “Answers I am sure will be forthcoming in time. There may have been others affected by whatever it was that happened to us. We should try and locate others with a similar experience.”
<Adelita> She doesn’t blink or think anything unnatural of the fact that he admitted to needing to drink her blood. Lita might not have gone to a college, but she has heard of things similar to this throughout history. Also, Lita doesn’t know, or isn’t aware that vampires are capable of doing that. The thought never crossed her mind the entire time she has been a vampire. She notices he doesn’t answer her question about his faith, or neither denies nor admits to loving her. But neither does she. Instead, he does leave some food for thought. The possibilities of others affected. And further, the possibilities of those affected saying and doing the same thing they had said and done. “And if there are?” She asks as she watches him kiss the inside of her wrist, her body shivering for desire for him before the woman collects her wrist and hand back and takes a step away to focus on finishing her thoughts. “If there are, then what you are suggesting is that what we did, what we said, and what we felt was not real. Was not true. Not if there are others.” Adelita said quietly, uncertain if she was disappointed, or potentially relieved. If she loved him, what would that mean for them? For her? Could Adelita disregard and ignore the feelings she had, and the possibility of loving him to retain the life she was currently living?
“Do you believe in love at first sight, Ambrose?” She says as her right arm inches up and comes to rest on her stomach, as that hand rubs at her left arm. She wasn’t sure if she was asking for her own benefit to gather her own thoughts on the question asked, or if she asked him to hear his thoughts and wisdom on the topic.
Ambrose AcheronHis gaze moves over her, eyes roaming where his hands had caressed, where his blade had bit in, parting tender flesh as as a shark’s fin cutting through water. His hand remember the feel of her, and his thoughts turn to the emotions brought on that night. “We are Allurists. We feel things more intensely than others do. Our feelings can change how we age, change our appearance. How can they not be real when they can alter our very flesh?”
Love at first sight. How could he explain? Verbally it would be difficult as words lack the power over their Path that emotions do. He thinks of when he lay eyes upon the Choctaw sorceress, Coahoma. Human, frail weak. Tizoc had instantly felt at ease within her presence. He had fallen for her instantly and fully. For three nights he had visited, speaking with her, learning about her. He had brought her little gifts and offerings, food they had shared while sitting across from each other. She had instantly known what he was and fully trusted him for some reason. They had made love, he had drank her into and gave her his own life’s essence. The turning was different than anything Ambrose had done before, gentle, tender. As he had embraced her he had prayed silently to Xochiquetzal to return her to him. To allow them to walk the path of immortality together.
His sire would have been furious.
Eztli had been a high priest of Tezcatlipoca for centuries when he was brought low, destroyed by his own kind for crimes against the old code. Necuratism. Placing his mortal ancestry above that of his vampire kin. There was a list of crimes a career criminal would have a tough time equalling. Eztli had died for his sins.Mating with humans, with other vampires, refusing to change his identity, feeding on the sixth day. He had fought alongside his brood to the bitter end and when the dust had settled on the battlefield he and his line lay crumbling slowly to ash. All but Ambrose. Ambrose had been injured early in the attack and had been fallen down into a ravine. Upon landing in the rushing waters of the river below he had been carried, beaten and battered, bleeding from a half dozen woulds down river and over a the falls. He had been thought dead by their assailants.
That was two and a half decades before meeting Coahoma. His sire’s methods were not practical in the new world brought to the Americas by the pale skinned conquerors. Tizoc had adapted.Though he still carried with him the beliefs of his sire, his interpretation with different. He was not open about his beliefs to vampires around him. He was not as prideful and didn’t believe himself infallible or favored by the gods. He knew he was not immortal and he is convinced more than ever he was brought back from the Shadow for a reason.
When he saw Adelita, the same feelings he had felt for Coahoma had been thrust upon him, perhaps from another supernatural creature, perhaps not. Those feelings had been even more intense this time. Had they met without whatever inexorable force driving their emotions into a frenzy they may have walked past each other with nary more than a nod. Tizoc didn’t believe that though. Tizoc believes in fate and destiny. He believes there is a plan and reason for all things and that the gods put things in the path of their followers for a reason. Their meeting was the will of the gods. The circumstances set into motion by divine providence. Who was he to argue?
All of this he simply lets flow from his mind to Adelita’s own. Images and memories. After a long moment he says simply, in answer to her last question, “Yes.”
<Adelita> Her sap colored eyes disappeared beneath her eyelids as Adelita closed them at the singular word he spoke in reply to her question. Yes. As if it weren’t up for debate. He was so assured in his reply, that Ambrose didn’t follow it up with any other words or images in her mind. He just left his confident answer linger in the air between them. “I don’t know if I do.” Adelita finally stated after her eyes opened, the two brown hues locking on his face, looking for his reaction, if there was any at all.
The woman wasn’t positive if she was saying that because she didn’t want to get involved with him or anyone on that sort of level, or if it was because it seemed ridiculous to her. That someone could love another without knowing anything about them. “You don’t know anything about me.” She continued before moving towards her things. How could he be so confident that he could love her, without knowing anything about her, and almost make Lita believe that he did too?
“I’m sorry.” Adelita said after a few seconds of silence between the two of them. “I think the best thing to do is do as you suggest. See if anyone else was affected and go from there.” With that, the woman moved to where her things were and started collecting them. The Mexican woman didn’t bother looking through her purse, she oddly felt confident enough that he didn’t go through them, even if Jose did. And if Jose needed to take what little money she had in her purse, then so be it. What was thirty-three dollars in the scheme of anything? “I should go…” Adelita said after everything was collected and she moved around him. “If you pursue that avenue, let me know? Your hombre knows how to reach me, since you don’t.”
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose nods his agreement. “I have Jose do the typing because I do not know how to spell the words yet. I was learning to read from a friend in New Orleans, a Greek scholar. I did not get very proficient at it before he died,” he explains. “I can see through his eyes, hear what he hears. He types what I tell him to.”
Ambrose glances over to the entryway as it considering going with her but stands where he is, watching her after only the briefest of consideration. “I will be doing what I can to see if anyone else was affected and if so, trying to find a pattern and locate the source. From there we will decide what to do with whoever or whatever it is.”
The thrall should be back soon actually. Ambrose hasn’t bothered to check in on Jose since Adelita showed up. He hadn’t given him orders, there was no need to check up on him. Now he reaches out mentally and calls the young gangster. Home, now., is all he says into Jose’s mind. With that distraction out of the way he watches Adelita silently, waiting to see what she does.
<Adelita> Her somewhat snippy comment was replied to as if she hadn’t been a little bit snippy at all. Just calm and factual. She sighed after listening to his reason as to why he didn’t reply to her emails personally. With a reply like that, she couldn’t be irritated with him anymore. How could she? It wasn’t as if he was intentionally not replying. “So was it you or him that thought I had big cajones?” She asked with an amused smirk before moving to him and wrapping her hands around his arms so she could pull up and place a red painted kiss on his left cheek. “Goodbye, Tizoc.” Lita whispered against that very same cheek before she gave his face one more look, as if embedding it within her memories before walking out of the abandoned warehouse.
Jose Come home. **** Jose wishes he could go home! Being a vampire’s ***** isn’t easy! He pulls his suburban up and the entrance of the factory and gets out, leaving it running as he pokes his head in. Seeing Adelita heading his way he sighs and goes back to the car. Taxi driver was better than blood bag or kidnapper. He really just wants a night off though. Just one.
This thrall **** ~blows~.
<Adelita> Adelita brought a hand to her head as she tried to absorb all of this in. To think that what had happened between them was because of someone else interfering in their lives gave the woman a sense of alarm. Could it actually be possible? Why not? There were other things in the city, things she had heard of and some things she had actually seen with her own eyes. But to think someone had sway over the things she did that night with Ambrose…
Lita shook her head and let the thought vanish with that shake. An Allurist? Was he potentially suggesting? “It wasn’t me.” Adelita said, just in case he was suggesting that it might have been her. And since he suggested it, Adelita didn’t believe for a second he possessed a power like that. So, who could it be? Adelita knew very few people personally. Niklaus? Doubtful. Elighan was a human, but did have some crazy powers and then there was Robin who recently became a vampire. No, she didn’t think anyone she knew would do something like that to her. “I don’t know many people, so I don’t believe anyone would take special interest in my bedroom affairs, Ambrose.” Adelita’s eyes moved to her things again, hoping everything was still inside of it. It appeared from first glance that everything was there, but she knew very well Jose had went through her things.
His last train of thought brought her eyes to him again, the pair filled with a bewildered look as she took a step back. To think she could be the woman he loved centuries ago? That she was once someone else? “No. I’m not. I can’t be.” Adelita looked at the male apologetically. “I am just me. Adelita. I would know if I was someone else, si?” She had only taken just the one step back, but that step wasn’t large enough to keep the two out of the others space. Her eyes moved down to his hands, the hands that were so gentle during their time entwined in the other, but the very same hands that turned rough and methodical when he tried to get the little beast out of her. “I’m sorry. I wish I could give you some real answers, but the only one I can give is that I am almost positive I can not be your Coahoma, reincarnated.”
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose knows better. It is entirely possible for Adelita to contain the soul of Coahoma within her and be blissful ignorant of it. He doesn’t believe that is the case however and also doesn’t believe that an Allurist had anything to do with what happened to their minds. He steps back in tightly pressing himself to her and leans in, giving her a long and sweet kiss.
His hand brushes her hair back behind her ear as his lips caress hers and his palm finds its way to her cheek, the other arm wrapping around her and cupping her *** lightly, pulling her against him. He feels the stirring of lust, familiar only from the other night last week with her but the ravenous need to possess her is muted. Perhaps it is still there though. They are both Allurists after all, it only makes sense such a powerful emotion as they both had would leave echoes resonating within their psyches. One thing Ambrose has learned about their Path is that a small spark of feeling can grow into an inferno.
“Then you think something else caused… us?” The question escapes his lips in a near-whisper as they part from hers, hovering less than an inch away.
<Adelita> When their lips connect, a hand goes to his shirt and pulls at the fabric of it. It is an instinctual reaction, and one that lets him know that she doesn’t mind being kissed by the male. They have been here before, but this time...this time it seems different.
The hand on her *** has her leaning into the male’s frame as she kisses him back, searching for what it was they had that night. There is definitive attraction to the male, there is no denying that, but Adelita doesn’t have the overwhelming need to sleep with him right this second. Her body doesn’t yearn for it as badly as it had, then.
He breaks the kiss to talk, to ask a question and Adelita stays right where she is. Her eyes search the depths of his face before her hand moves from his chest to his hair, remembering what it felt like the night they ran into the other. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She admits, sighing in frustration against the lips that are not far from her own. “Maybe, just one more…” She leans up and kisses him, softly at first, remembering the hot and torrid night they shared together. Refamiliarizing herself with the taste of his lips as her hands traveled through his hair and weaved in the strands of them. She could most certainly go there again with him, Lita remembers how comfortable she was with him, how safe she felt and how...in love? she felt, but it simply didn’t feel as passionate as it had then, now. “I think so.” She finally admits after slowly, and somewhat regrettably breaking the kiss. “It-I mean, you are most definitely my type, but…” She bit her lower lip and took a step back. “It feels different, si?” She asked him, eyes fixated on the male before her.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc lets Adelita step back from him, fighting the desire to move back into her, to push her down and claim her again. Thoughts of their previous meeting flit through his mind and the effect does nothing to aid in his thinking through what exactly caused their passionate encounter. Ambrose does not engage in physical relations. He is a priest and it is against his beliefs. His sire had violated that and other rules and Ambrose knew of at least twice he had ended up killing mortals outside of the sacrificial offerings to the gods when an unwilling human female had turned up pregnant with a fadebeast.
Ambrose had tried to avoid doing the same to Adelita but to no avail. Her death had been necessity. They were children of Tezcatlipoca and every now and then had to be returned to his realm.
His eyes focus back onto hers and he nods. “Yes. Different. I still want you. I want to pull you down now and take you over and over… but it is not the same intensity as before. I feel more in control of myself now. My bloodline, they have rules prohibiting priests from doing what we did unless bonded. It is meant to prevent fade-spawn. Since you were already… infected with one I don’t believe it truly violated the spirit of that rule. Now though…”
He looks torn. There is lust fighting a tug of war with faith within his mind. Torn, as he had left her that first time. Laying on the floor, body slowly crumbling into ash as Ambrose himself retched her heartsblood out onto the carpet. The pain of her blood coursing through his body… but before that… the first sips, the initial burst of power, her essence, her true flavor… he remembers it too and he undoubtedly craves more. Many a priest of his line had been cannibalistic, drinking from their own brood to sustain their thirst, made that way from years of ritual slayings of other vampires of the differing tribes of the area.
<Adelita> She listened to not just the words he said, but how he said them. His tone was something that had comforted her the night they first met and now, here again, she was comfortable in his presence. Was it because she knew so much about him, or was it because of something more? Was it possible that she did in fact love this man? Lit wasn’t even sure she knew what love actually was, but there certainly had been a deep desire to be with and near the male the night they met. At his confession of wanting her, the woman focuses on his face. More so, his lips.
Adelita was at a dangerous intersection. She wanted him and wanted him to want her, but didn’t want anything to do with relationships. And then there was Elighan in the back of her mind. She wasn’t at an intersection, Lita was at a fork in the road. So the woman could only piece together that she didn’t love him. That what they shared that night had to nothing more than an itch that had been scratched. Still, she remembers what she said to him, and in that moment it had been the truth. Not only did she want him, but she trusted him with her very life. She couldn’t say the same about anyone else.
“Now though?” She asks, confused about his thoughts. “I did not know about your beliefs.” The Mexican woman says, in case he might believe she had and was attempting to shake them. Destroy them even. Lita was a lot of things and would do a lot of things to people, but faith? That was something she wouldn’t touch for a few reasons, most of all because her madre’s strong faith and belief in her religion. Adelita brought her right hand to her temple and rubbed at it before sighing. “I am glad for your help, and if there is any way I can ever repay you for that help…” Adelita frowned as she spoke, not sure what to say or do next. “Sex, you can get from anyone, Tizoc. A man like you...I can guarantee it.” A light laugh parted from her lips as the hand dropped from her head. Initially, Adelita just wanted to get her things and be out of his life after that. So why hadn’t she done that yet? “What do you want?” She asked him finally, so Adelita knew what she had to say or do.
Ambrose Acheron] That was the question wasn’t it? What did he want. A vampire named Ripper had shown him something. A vampire he could not get a real read on, just the feeling of power emanating from whoever it was. Even their identity had been impossible to read. There were mysteries here in Harper Rock that Ambrose had decided to attempt to uncover. Adelita had become one of those mysteries. He remembers vividly the way her body moved under his, over his, the scent and taste of her flesh agaibst his lips and tongue… most of all how he had felt when he looked at her. Never before Coahoma and never since had he felt anything akin to that yearning and passion. Even with his first childe it had been like comparing a spark to a forest fire. Adelita was the forest fire.
What did he want? What he had no right to want. He wanted her still even after the call of whatever deing had skewed his emotions has passed. He wants to know more about her. He wants to claim her.
Instead of saying this he looks at her with a curiosity written across his features. “What do you want Adelita?” He has near-answered the question as though saying that he is open to her wishes. At the same time he has dodged a bullet insofar that by voicing his desire he might make it a reality. He wants to know her take. She either has or recently had a man in her life, the fadespawn makes that clear. There is much he doesn’t know of her.
<Adelita> The dark haired Mexican woman frowns when he finally answers her with a question; the exact same one she asked of him. There is a lot she wants...maybe too much. She wants to be close to him, if only to know what they had, what they shared in was real. If it meant anything, but at the same time, Adelita was enjoying her newfound freedom as an independent woman. Free from the overbearing, protective reigns of her padre and free from the path that very same man forced her on, prior to meeting both Godric and Remington. “Answers.” She says at first, while fingers move to her lips, remembering the feel and taste of his own on hers. “Something neither of us have at the moment.” She laughed and looked around the immediate area. “I don’t think you would like the person I am. The things I have done. And things I would do, if I had to, even now.” She finally says with a defeated sigh. Adelita leaned into him, secretly longing to be held by him. In those arms, more than a week ago, the woman had never felt more safe in her life. “You know absolutely nada about me. Maybe that is what is so appealing about me, to you. What if I said I wanted you? Then what?” She looked up at him with curious eyes before the fingers that traced her lips, traced his.
“Would you cast aside your bloodline’s rules, Tizoc? I don’t follow your rules. I see nothing wrong with what we did that night and wouldn’t stop just because we weren’t...bonded.?” The last part of her sentence was asked more like a question. “You professed your love for me twice, without knowing me. How can you be so confident?” As there is more time that passes and she talks more, Adelita remembers how...hurt? she was as nights went by and not once had he reached out for her after she returned from her decided death. “You said you loved me, but not once did you comfort me as you did before I died, or eased my mind in that place. I reached out to you for my things nights after I got back. Is that how you treat things you love, Ambrose?” Lita stepped out of his frame as she looked up at him, the hurt evident in her face for a fraction of a second before she looked away from him and let it vanish. “If it is, then I can say without a doubt, that as little as I know about love, real love, that you do not love me.”
Ambrose Acheron All of her questions were fair. Ambrose could not bring himself to tell her that he had been retching up every ounce of blood his body held while she was in the shadow. When he had drank her heartsblood, the vampiric blood had being at first an aphrodisiac and then had quickly turned to venom within his body. He couldn’t tell her he suffered from a weakness to toxins because he was unsure if he had passed this curse along to the rest of his line and by telling her another telepath might ferret that out. It could endanger his brood as surely as his sire’s feeding habits once had. Feeding habits that the memory of Adelita’s blood stir within Tizoc himself.
“If I could have met with you… seen you… I would have.” The words leave his mouth in a dry whisper. Pained, raw and his face shows a weariness not unlike resignation. “All I can say is I very nearly joined you in the fade that night and it took some time to recover.”
He reaches out and take her hand in his, bringing it up toward his face with her palm up. His other hand trails it’s index finger along the inside of her wrist. “The blood that flows within you… I had to drink as part of the sacrifice and it had an... effect in the quantities needed to satiate the needs of the gods.”
He kisses her palm and her inner wrist lightly before letting go of her hand. “Answers I am sure will be forthcoming in time. There may have been others affected by whatever it was that happened to us. We should try and locate others with a similar experience.”
<Adelita> She doesn’t blink or think anything unnatural of the fact that he admitted to needing to drink her blood. Lita might not have gone to a college, but she has heard of things similar to this throughout history. Also, Lita doesn’t know, or isn’t aware that vampires are capable of doing that. The thought never crossed her mind the entire time she has been a vampire. She notices he doesn’t answer her question about his faith, or neither denies nor admits to loving her. But neither does she. Instead, he does leave some food for thought. The possibilities of others affected. And further, the possibilities of those affected saying and doing the same thing they had said and done. “And if there are?” She asks as she watches him kiss the inside of her wrist, her body shivering for desire for him before the woman collects her wrist and hand back and takes a step away to focus on finishing her thoughts. “If there are, then what you are suggesting is that what we did, what we said, and what we felt was not real. Was not true. Not if there are others.” Adelita said quietly, uncertain if she was disappointed, or potentially relieved. If she loved him, what would that mean for them? For her? Could Adelita disregard and ignore the feelings she had, and the possibility of loving him to retain the life she was currently living?
“Do you believe in love at first sight, Ambrose?” She says as her right arm inches up and comes to rest on her stomach, as that hand rubs at her left arm. She wasn’t sure if she was asking for her own benefit to gather her own thoughts on the question asked, or if she asked him to hear his thoughts and wisdom on the topic.
Ambrose AcheronHis gaze moves over her, eyes roaming where his hands had caressed, where his blade had bit in, parting tender flesh as as a shark’s fin cutting through water. His hand remember the feel of her, and his thoughts turn to the emotions brought on that night. “We are Allurists. We feel things more intensely than others do. Our feelings can change how we age, change our appearance. How can they not be real when they can alter our very flesh?”
Love at first sight. How could he explain? Verbally it would be difficult as words lack the power over their Path that emotions do. He thinks of when he lay eyes upon the Choctaw sorceress, Coahoma. Human, frail weak. Tizoc had instantly felt at ease within her presence. He had fallen for her instantly and fully. For three nights he had visited, speaking with her, learning about her. He had brought her little gifts and offerings, food they had shared while sitting across from each other. She had instantly known what he was and fully trusted him for some reason. They had made love, he had drank her into and gave her his own life’s essence. The turning was different than anything Ambrose had done before, gentle, tender. As he had embraced her he had prayed silently to Xochiquetzal to return her to him. To allow them to walk the path of immortality together.
His sire would have been furious.
Eztli had been a high priest of Tezcatlipoca for centuries when he was brought low, destroyed by his own kind for crimes against the old code. Necuratism. Placing his mortal ancestry above that of his vampire kin. There was a list of crimes a career criminal would have a tough time equalling. Eztli had died for his sins.Mating with humans, with other vampires, refusing to change his identity, feeding on the sixth day. He had fought alongside his brood to the bitter end and when the dust had settled on the battlefield he and his line lay crumbling slowly to ash. All but Ambrose. Ambrose had been injured early in the attack and had been fallen down into a ravine. Upon landing in the rushing waters of the river below he had been carried, beaten and battered, bleeding from a half dozen woulds down river and over a the falls. He had been thought dead by their assailants.
That was two and a half decades before meeting Coahoma. His sire’s methods were not practical in the new world brought to the Americas by the pale skinned conquerors. Tizoc had adapted.Though he still carried with him the beliefs of his sire, his interpretation with different. He was not open about his beliefs to vampires around him. He was not as prideful and didn’t believe himself infallible or favored by the gods. He knew he was not immortal and he is convinced more than ever he was brought back from the Shadow for a reason.
When he saw Adelita, the same feelings he had felt for Coahoma had been thrust upon him, perhaps from another supernatural creature, perhaps not. Those feelings had been even more intense this time. Had they met without whatever inexorable force driving their emotions into a frenzy they may have walked past each other with nary more than a nod. Tizoc didn’t believe that though. Tizoc believes in fate and destiny. He believes there is a plan and reason for all things and that the gods put things in the path of their followers for a reason. Their meeting was the will of the gods. The circumstances set into motion by divine providence. Who was he to argue?
All of this he simply lets flow from his mind to Adelita’s own. Images and memories. After a long moment he says simply, in answer to her last question, “Yes.”
<Adelita> Her sap colored eyes disappeared beneath her eyelids as Adelita closed them at the singular word he spoke in reply to her question. Yes. As if it weren’t up for debate. He was so assured in his reply, that Ambrose didn’t follow it up with any other words or images in her mind. He just left his confident answer linger in the air between them. “I don’t know if I do.” Adelita finally stated after her eyes opened, the two brown hues locking on his face, looking for his reaction, if there was any at all.
The woman wasn’t positive if she was saying that because she didn’t want to get involved with him or anyone on that sort of level, or if it was because it seemed ridiculous to her. That someone could love another without knowing anything about them. “You don’t know anything about me.” She continued before moving towards her things. How could he be so confident that he could love her, without knowing anything about her, and almost make Lita believe that he did too?
“I’m sorry.” Adelita said after a few seconds of silence between the two of them. “I think the best thing to do is do as you suggest. See if anyone else was affected and go from there.” With that, the woman moved to where her things were and started collecting them. The Mexican woman didn’t bother looking through her purse, she oddly felt confident enough that he didn’t go through them, even if Jose did. And if Jose needed to take what little money she had in her purse, then so be it. What was thirty-three dollars in the scheme of anything? “I should go…” Adelita said after everything was collected and she moved around him. “If you pursue that avenue, let me know? Your hombre knows how to reach me, since you don’t.”
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose nods his agreement. “I have Jose do the typing because I do not know how to spell the words yet. I was learning to read from a friend in New Orleans, a Greek scholar. I did not get very proficient at it before he died,” he explains. “I can see through his eyes, hear what he hears. He types what I tell him to.”
Ambrose glances over to the entryway as it considering going with her but stands where he is, watching her after only the briefest of consideration. “I will be doing what I can to see if anyone else was affected and if so, trying to find a pattern and locate the source. From there we will decide what to do with whoever or whatever it is.”
The thrall should be back soon actually. Ambrose hasn’t bothered to check in on Jose since Adelita showed up. He hadn’t given him orders, there was no need to check up on him. Now he reaches out mentally and calls the young gangster. Home, now., is all he says into Jose’s mind. With that distraction out of the way he watches Adelita silently, waiting to see what she does.
<Adelita> Her somewhat snippy comment was replied to as if she hadn’t been a little bit snippy at all. Just calm and factual. She sighed after listening to his reason as to why he didn’t reply to her emails personally. With a reply like that, she couldn’t be irritated with him anymore. How could she? It wasn’t as if he was intentionally not replying. “So was it you or him that thought I had big cajones?” She asked with an amused smirk before moving to him and wrapping her hands around his arms so she could pull up and place a red painted kiss on his left cheek. “Goodbye, Tizoc.” Lita whispered against that very same cheek before she gave his face one more look, as if embedding it within her memories before walking out of the abandoned warehouse.
Jose Come home. **** Jose wishes he could go home! Being a vampire’s ***** isn’t easy! He pulls his suburban up and the entrance of the factory and gets out, leaving it running as he pokes his head in. Seeing Adelita heading his way he sighs and goes back to the car. Taxi driver was better than blood bag or kidnapper. He really just wants a night off though. Just one.
This thrall **** ~blows~.
I'm a marquise diamond
Could even make that Tiffany jealous.
* Adelita has mortal aura and healthy complexion *
Could even make that Tiffany jealous.
* Adelita has mortal aura and healthy complexion *
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Ambrose Acheron
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Re: De Amor y Sangre (Of Love and Blood)
--The following was a live chat roleplay--The following roleplay takes place after the event: Siren Search
Ambrose Acheron The Aztecs had unique rituals involving weddings. Marriages. The term ‘tied the knot’ was literal in their custom. During the ceremony an old woman would tie the bride and groom’s hands together signifying the bonding of the two. Then the bride’s male relatives would bed her. The Aztec vampires followed the first part of this but fade-beasts being a reality they abstained from the second part of the ritual. Instead the family of the bride would each give her a sip of their blood. Afterward she would give her husband a sip of hers. The blood of the family of the bride now flowing into that of the new husband. In that way he was bonded to the family of his wife.
Tizoc was taught the ways of his sire’s bloodline. He was also a practical man. To an extent at least. Necuratism in such an isolated place as this Harper Rock would lead to the same blood hunt his sire had faced and fallen to. Some customs had needed to evolve when Tizoc awoke to this strange concrete version of the world. One thing he still believed in though was his visions.
The visions, a premonition of sorts had played a factor in his life as a much younger and less wise vampire. They were one of the reasons his sire had decided to teach the young Tizoc the rituals of his ancestors. Clearly the gods had favored Tizoc to bestow upon him such a gift. It was this gift that now had Ambrose Acheron, once Tizoc, pause.
Coahoma, her face a mask of anguish, twisted and wreathed with flames and shadow. The vision shifts to Adelita, wreath in blood and shadow, the two faces blending together and then Ambrose himself being drawn toward the scene, looking over his own shoulder and reaching toward the two. His hand suddenly bound and forced toward the image where he seems to fall, spiralling toward the screaming mouths of the two women as they wail their anguish on a collage of blood shadow and flames…
The elder looks up from the scene in his mind and out over the sacrificial chamber, an old aquifer and cistern used for providing water to the factory in it’s early years and thinks. His hand strays to the comforting, slick surface of the ritual altar, dark with the remains of a recent offering. He leans on the altar slightly as he recovers his thoughts.
The Aztecs believed in layers of the underworld. Once one made it to the last layer you lived a normal life there while awaiting rebirth into the land of the flesh once more. Ambrose had met Adelita after his return from the shadow, the first of the layers in the underworld. He had been an ancillae if not nearing Elder age back then when he fell into the fade. Coahoma, she had been a fledgling, young, inexperienced and weak. It was likely she had long passed from the Shadow Realm and into the next layer long ago. Maybe as long as two centuries. The Shadow had after all drained much of his own strength, her it would have simply swallowed.
Could it have been the will of the gods to put Adelita, one of his own people in front of him just as the siren, one of their avatars, had met them in a perfect storm?
The gods weaved the tapestry of the living realm as they saw fit and Tizoc and Adelita had met because of this. Coahoma and Adelita superimposed in his visions reinforced the belief that had festered within his mind since their first encounter.They were one and the same. Within Adelita was the energy of Coahoma. The siren had passed by and exposed it to then, even if Adelita doubted what was plainly there before her.
Sometimes the will of the gods is clear, sometimes it is clear, but it needs the intervention of others to put it in motion. That is what Tizoc intended to do. Enforce the will of Tezcatlipoca. He would rectify his sin, his transgression against the laws of his forebears. He would bind with Adelita, make her his wife. The fact that she had come to him, impure and dying, for the embryo would have sprouted and killed her as sure as aging kills a mortal, shows striking similarity to Coahoma, who came to him sick, mortal and dying with each passing day. Both of them, Ambrose had saved them from their condition by giving them to his gods in sacrifice and both and returned from the Fade. They obviously had set both before Tizoc. It was their will.
Logic followed that they were meant to be, that she was Coahoma reborn.
Tizoc calls out telepathically to Jose then waits as the thrall makes his way into the chamber. Ambrose waits patiently , hand still on the ritual altar as the thrall makes his way to him. As he arrives Tizoc reaches out, setting a comforting hand on the thralls shoulder and says to him quietly,“Jose, I need a sacrifice tonight.. There is only one who will do…”
< Adelita > She sat at a small circular table with a bunch of humans; her thrall Wynifred, and a couple of her thrall’s friends from the University at the University bar. On this table are a variety of beer bottles, shot glasses and other glasses that held mixed drinks or wine. Wynifred invited Adelita to join in the drinking festivities of her and her friends celebrating the return to university life and surviving the first week. A silly tradition, and the woman even said so herself when Winny gave Lita the invite, but as Lita sat here on the tall bar stool, enjoying the random drunken chatter of the humans she is surrounded with...the woman can’t help but think how glad she is to have come out anyways.
Anything to get her mind off the following things; being kicked out of Andras (by her own request-really), Elighan and his clingyness and then Jose and his master Tizoc. Her life was beyond loco right now, so escaping it once in a while was a muy bein thing for her.
“Did you guys take English Two with...oh, god. What was his name? Old guy with glasses, wore sweaters almost every day and-” Winny is cut off by her friend...Brock? Brian? Brad? Lita can’t remember, but listens anyways. “Mr. Cornwell. Had that nasally voice too.” Brad, or whoever he is attempt to impersonate the guy everyone knows but Adelita by reciting some poem she isn’t familiar with. Everyone erupts in a fit of laughter and then someone; one of the women that Winny knows, demands they all take another shot again.
Shots are consumed, and Lita watches, amused. She is normally used to being in the spotlight, but her thrall meant a great deal to Lita. They were friends, in Adelita’s eyes. She should be the star once in a while, especially in front of her peers. “Donde esta el ban-” Adelita pauses when she realizes she is speaking in her native tongue, but someone points to the right for her. “A la derecha de la barra,” She says with a wide smile, saying the words right, but missing the roll of the ‘r.’ It’s pretty common in those that can speak some spanish, but haven’t perfected the language yet. Lita stands, collects her small nude colored, jewel encrusted clutch and nods her head to the helpful woman. “Gracias.” She says before disappearing from sight and heading out of the club for the night. Winny wouldn’t be too mad that she bailed, and most of them probably wouldn’t even notice the woman was gone because they were so intoxicated from the variety of drinks anyways.
Outfit: https://s-media-cache-ak0.p i n i m g.com/73 ... c490e6.jpg
[color-red]Ambrose Acheron[/color]
Ambrose reaches out from the bowels on the abandoned factory, his mind sending out a thought, one vocalized in the Adelita’s thoughts. There is no doubt who it is reaching out to her. She has heard that voice chanting in a dead tongue over her as an obsidian blade opens her belly. She has heard it in her ear, whispered softly compliments and ancient secrets as the two were under a spell together. She has heard it when she offhandedly threw out a simple showing of displeasure at being kept waiting when bringing him ritual ingredients.Speak the name of the devil and he shall appear.
We need to speak, the factory, I must see you.
The factory, the place where they had met. The location they had stood face to face when the siren had come and changed everything. She had interfered, filling their minds with lust from it’s pervasive tune. It had been responsible for Ambrose breaking his vows, and for Adelita meeting the priest in the first place. It had cost them both and perhaps given them both something in exchange. Time would tell. This is what Tizoc needed to know.
He leaves the bond between their minds open, receptive to her answer. Adelita could be difficult at times but she had never outright disregarded him. Tizoc wondered if that had something to do with fear. He had disemboweled and decapitated her and feasted on her still beating heart.
She expertly and effortlessly has guided Jose as well. She had placed the threat to anger Ambrose in front of the thrall, blackmailed him, all in the name of keeping Ambrose from killing the man. She had extorted him. Jose had of course had no idea that Ambrose watched from behind the thralls own eyes and he make frantic deals attempting to convince Adelita to manipulate Ambrose. To lie to him. To make it appear Jose was more valuable than Jose was.
Adelita had held a resentment for Jose than had shone through in every dealing the two had. He had disrespected her when he thought she was a human and Adelita had never forgiven the slight. Ambrose couldn’t blame her. He too held grudges for such transgressions.
He sets his bloody hands against the altar before him, the scene on the slab is chaotic, a desecration to human sensibilities. People never like to think of themselves as meat but the thing in front of Ambrose could not rightly be called anything else. It had been destroyed, partially consumed. Obliterated. Only two parts of what have been human are easily identifiable and they reside now in a plastic tub next to the altar.
A gift to be given with an offer.
< Adelita > She was heading towards the train station to go back to her side of town, when Adelita stopped dead in her tracks. She knew who was in her head and it only made her roll her eyes and do the exact opposite. Sure, she would go to him, but when she wanted to. Not the second he asked for her. The woman stopped at a corner store not far off the campus main street and bought a pack of gum, and a six pack of Corona after giving the guy behind the register an earful about not carrying real Mexican beer. In her own native tongue, so chances are the message wasn’t properly conveyed, but it made her feel better.
The woman paid for the items, put the gum in her purse and then put the six pack down on a bench near the train station, pulled one out and popped it open with that nifty little keyring she got as a gift from Winny a couple months ago. Drinking a beer and walking down the street was probably illegal, but Lita didn’t care. As was handing out beer to people she wasn’t actually positive were the legal age, but she couldn’t very well consume an entire six pack by the time she strolled to the factory. With four beers gifted, and one in one hand and the other stuffed in her small clutch and kept open, but safe guarded by the other hand, the woman made her way to the factory, sipping the golden hued colored liquor before tossing the empty bottle in a large metal cylinder on the grounds of the factory.
The woman was not drunk, not in the slightest even having at least ten different drinks throughout the night, but she was still enjoying herself. With that beer gone, Lita fetched out the other, popped the top off and snapped the clutch closed before entering the actual factory. “You know there are telephones. Jose can teach you the internet, but he can’t teach you how to dial siete números?” Adelita really disliked Jose, even if they had an agreement of sorts and he would eventually make her rich once again. Maybe, once he outlived his uses, he could suffer an unfortunate accident?
Ambrose Acheron Whether or not the young entrepreneurial gangster would have had the wherewithal to rise up from the slums and become a man or wealth and power would never be known for it is at that moment Ambrose chooses to appear from the room in which Kika had been turned and step into sight carrying a wooden box measuring a cubic foot.
Ambrose sets the box down. He is wearing traditional Aztec ceremonial garb. His face pierced at the bridge of the nose, the septum, the chin, both ears along the rim and lobes, and even his forehead right above the space between the eyes. Bits and pieces of animal and man accentuate leather armor covering part of the chest, his shoulders and his neck. On his head though is a disturbing amalgam on bone forming a helmet of sorts.
http://www.allmyfriends.it/raoul-trujil ... 20wolf.jpg
http://www.raoultrujilloinfo.com/images ... lf3sml.jpg
http://img4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb2014 ... o_Wolf.jpg
He stands there in the shadows, only the dim light of the night filtered through a layer of dust illuminates the inside of the factory. Light shifting in from the broken out windows and the tears in the aluminum siding. Ambrose has contracted to have these damaged areas sealed off, but for the moment they remain and the factory is at least in part, accessible from them.
The outfit may be strange giving the circumstances, but she has seen him wearing it before in the memories he had showed her before. It is also not strange enough to distract from the fact that he is covered near head to toe in fresh blood. His arms still drip with gore from his frenzied assault on the sacrificial victim, dark, near black blood still stains his chin and there are sprayed droplets across his face and chest. More than droplets, small trails of the stuff still runs down his skin, rapidly beginning to coagulate on bronzed flesh. There are symbols painted in the blood. Glyphs.
In one hand is an all too familiar obsidian dagger, one she has been… intimate with, and in the other hand is a smaller box. He knows of the customs of other religions and has decided that most of them nowadays have a ring involved. He motions toward the box with the dagger. “This is for you…”
Inside is Jose’s head, face staring blankly ahead, eyes glazed over with the sight of the dead. A single rose is between his teeth and the entire decapitated mass lies nestled amongst a variety of other flower. The smell of blood and floral scents fills the air when the box is opened. The man’s heart rests behind the head acting almost as a pillow.
Ambrose stands watching proudly, silently, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
< Adelita > Something is definitely not right. This is the first thought that comes to the woman’s mind when she sees Ambrose decked out in all his ceremonial garb. The second thought was...Fantastic! I’m going to die...again. This makes the woman’s second beer come crashing down on the ground at her feet as she stands there, frozen. She knows she can move and her legs are in working order, but Adelita just stands there in the pool of liquor that collects at her feet, unmoving.
Her eyes fall on the dagger after noticing the blood on Ambrose and still, the woman doesn’t move as he approaches her with that dagger or the box. A box that was for her. Was he giving her a gift? Based on how he was dressed, Adelita isn’t sure she wants to know what is in that box.
But the way he is standing there, Tizoc expects her to open it. Adelita laughs nervously before looking him directly in the face. “You shouldn’t have.” She says very slowly, uncertain about what it is she is going to find. Still, the woman takes the box and opens it to find a head, flowers and a heart. She almost drops the thing, but it manages to not come crashing down on the floor only because the box smacked against her midsection and stayed there, snug between her stomach and her arms.
“Qué hiciste?” Adelita hissed out before attempting to give him the box back. Did she want Jose dead? Absolutamente. Maybe even suffer a little bit, but this? This was as extreme as it was sick and foreign to her. This was the type of stuff her padre refused to let her see and took to some other small, run down home he owned somewhere in Mexico. “You killed him.” Adelita stated the obvious, but felt the need to say anyways. “Why?” She had presumed that Jose had been doing what she asked him to do and what Tizoc wanted him to do, so why and how could he kill his thrall?
[color-red]Ambrose Acheron[/color] “Because the gods require a sacrifice for certain things. I have seen humans do the same. I have seen other vampires do the same. Humans ask the father of the bride, vampires ask the favor of the sire of their beloved. In this age it may have been reduced to a formality, but when an endeavor is so important one does not simply pass over it for convenience.” Ambrose sends a single image into Adelita’s mind. The ritual altar below. Positioned around the sacrificial stone’s surface in a meaty sea of gore are a variety of items, there are poisonous chemicals, a single vampire fang, unblemished and untarnished, a four-leafed clover, a bluehearts flower in full bloom, and one more thing. One that Adelita recognizes instantly, knows intimately. The thing that has been spawned by her act with the human, the thing Ambrose had tried to remove from her womb unsuccessfully until more drastic measures had been taken.
Now it lies on the altar. an amaranthine ring clutched in each hand and situated in an upright seated position, hands out to either side as though offering them to the onlooker of the scene. The circle itself is surrounded by entrails, The blood from the recent destruction of a living human being still drips to the floor from the edges of the slab.
“I did it to ask Tezcatlipoca to bring you to me, I offered him a gift that I knew would please him and you. Jose is but the first of three gifts.”
The scene he shows her now is a memory, a ceremony being performed for one of his brood hundreds of years ago. Within it Adelita sees the Aztec warrior on his knees, the members of his brood, Tizoc included stand beside him in a row stemming from the altar. Beside him, another vampire, a Mayan by the looks of her. Her sire is next to her, more of her line stand across from the Aztec vampires. It almost looks like they are lined up to do battle until one notices all eyes are on the figure at the altar. He is short, maybe five feet, two inches but his presence fills the room. Blood has already been spilled, it flows freely down his arms. Resting upon the altar are the same ingredients Ambrose showed her on the altar beneath them in his own chamber.
As the memory plays out, each of the Mayan vampires approach the kneeling woman, their blood kin and offer her a small sip of their blood, drawn from their wrist with a dagger which looks like the one Ambrose carries. She take a single sip from each and then turns, offering her throat to the Aztec Warrior. As he leans forward, the ritualist leans forward and and begins to work. He dances around the altar, smoke rising from it’s surface as he makes the outline of the circle with the chemicals and summons the god’s mouthpiece.
Eztli, for that is who the ritualist is, performs the rite flawlessly, never once reaching for the remaining chemicals to reinforce the barrier. The demifae rests quietly throughout the process of Eztli grinding up the fangs and flowers as he speaks in a language Adelita may or may not be familiar with.
As he works, the male Aztec, the husband to be sinks his fangs into the bride to be’s throat and sips of the combined blood of her line.
The ritual plays out, the finale being the impalement of the fadeling’s heart at the climax of the ritual, the sire of the bride stepping forward and binding their hands together in a double-sided noose.
The memory stops, leaving only Ambrose standing before her eyes. Ambrose and the pieces of Jose in her box.
< Adelita > Adelita just listened, what else could she do? Tizoc wasn’t making any sense. Certain things. What things? “I came here because you asked me to come here, Ambrose.” Adelita said with a nervous laugh. Religion certainly had been importante when her madre was around, when Lita was a very little girl, but not everything to the Mexican woman was done because of a god, or happened because of prayer or however many hail Mary’s someone did. Some things just happened because it was meant to be, or because in this case someone asked her to come meet him. It was really that simple in the woman’s mind.
What he showed her..was disturbing. Wasn’t everything about him slightly disturbing? The altar...Was that Jose’s body parts? Lita’s face drained of all color when she thought about the guy being cut apart and dismembered like that. She had wanted him dead, but typically, in the world she knew, at most, people lost fingers or toes and then were shot in the head. Not disemboweled and other nasty things.
“Eres loco, Tizoc.” Adelita shoved the box in his direction when she saw the fadeling corpse. Lita knew exactly what that was and where it came from. “You kept it? You kept that little monster thing? Why on earth would you keep something like that? It’s hideous.” The woman stepped away, leaving him to keep the box with Jose’s head, his heart, and the flowers, or to drop it. “Thank you for killing him, but...es demasiado. Too much!”
The woman took another step back. “Why are you doing this?” Adelita was afraid of the answer. She was positive she knew what the answer was, but it was crazy! They had sex one time and saw each other maybe three or four other times in dos meses. What is he thinking? “What are the other gifts?” Lita asked very quietly as she looked around the building, expecting to see more dead things. More body parts, more heads, more stomachs and whatever else he carved his way into.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc tilts his head and looks at her as if she has lost her mind. “Bring the box Adelita,” he says, not making a move to reclaim it. There is something though about his voice that is more than unusual. His voice carries an undertone of command, but the words themselves are off. They aren’t in English or Spanish and yet they make perfect sense.
“Bring the box down and I will tell you a story.” He has already turned his back on the attempt to force possession of the disembodied head and heart of his former thrall. He begins walking then, slowly, his motions smooth and fluid, no extra motions, streamline almost as a jaguar stalking off to hunt. He starts to head down a corridor to the right of the entryway toward a set of metal steps leading down into a darkened basement. “Follow my steps exactly.”
Nahuatl, a dead language, the language of the long dead Aztec civilization. He is speaking it and she is understanding it.
< Adelita > She stands there and looks at him. Does she want to hear the story? Yes. Does she want to just come when beckoned? No. So the woman waits until he takes a few steps away before bringing the box with pieces of Jose with her. Making certain the box is closed and won’t be opened accidentally as she follows after the male. He’s taking her to steps that go down. Down to that crazy altar with all those things. With the monster baby thing.
“I don’t want to see those things, Tizoc. I don’t need to see those things. Especially that little monster thing. I know what it looks like. It’s crazy keeping things like that. Some people would even say it’s creepy.” And it was, though she didn’t indicate that she was one of those people, even if she secretly was. Still, she follows him because he doesn’t seem as if he’s going to stop and she follows him precisely because who knows what she might step in if she didn’t?
Once they reached the flat landing below, the Mexican woman stays in the walkway before sighing. “I’m not going to look at that nasty thing. If this is about me thanking you, thank you. Thank you for trying to kill that ugly little thing and thank you for killing me so that it could die. Thank you for killing Jose too, but you should have done that a long time ago.” Adelita moves to set the box down on the ground, the one with Jose in it, but thinks better of it. It’s too dark at the moment for her to risk touching hearts, livers, stomachs, eyes or whatever else was needed to appease his gods. So, the woman stands there, back to the nearest wall and just waits for him to start telling his story in a language she is somehow understanding, but has never spoken in her life.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose doesn’t look back, he merely continues on in the darkness. His shadow though, it seems to reach for Adelita, clawing at her as if trying to cling to her, to pull itself away from the monster that casts it. A single construction light hangs off at the far corner of the sprawling basement. Though now disused it once held the contents the factory expelled daily, here it was stored until it was shipped out. The place is now full of empty wooden crates, rotten with age and pallets, many of them scattered in bits and pieces over the floor.
As he walks he throws into her mind instant long flashes of them the first night in the West Tower apartment, before the ritualistic execution… bodies moving together. The sounds of them together, subliminal flashes, nothing lasting. “Come with me Adelita. Walk where I walk...”
Onward he moves toward that light, his feet navigating piles of wooden debris with practiced ease. “That first night we met… the creature, it triggered things. I believe it had a purpose in being where it was.” He stops and listens for a moment and then continues onward. He seemingly ignores her protestations on what she will and will not look at. “Come with me… it’s deeper… darker…”
Once he reaches the hanging light he stops and looks back toward Adelita, his eyes burning into hers. Then he steps backward and vanishes down into the blackness of a hole busted out of the concrete slab of the floor.
<Adelita > The Mexican woman sighed, slightly irritated with the male. This was typical of him. Mysterious and demanding at the same time. He needed or wanted things, never said what for, then just expected her to do these things (even if she normally did) and then just carried on with life without giving her any further regard. It was frustrating, wasn’t it? And very Adelita-ish. She rather disliked the tables turned on her, Lita realized as she stood still, looking into the darkness in the room they were in.
Her eyes glared down at the top of the box as she thought of all the times she had been irritated with Tizoc. Until Lita remembered what was in said box, all the anger fleeting away the second her eyes met Tizoc’s back. And he did that thing he did in her mind. “Stop that.” She said, because he could just say what he wanted to say, without playing unfairly. And he was playing rather unfairly when he picked what he wanted to share with her the first night they met and the things they did that night. As she walked and followed him, out of the corners of her eyes, Lita was sure she saw movement. Were the shadows alive?
If there weren’t alarms ringing in her head prior to being down here and seeing the darkness move, there were now. Really, she should just put the box down, thank him again and leave. Go right back up those stairs and let him believe whatever he wanted to believe. But Lita had a sneaky suspicion that if she did that, this wouldn’t be the last encounter they had. So, it was better to follow, let him say what he wanted to say and then remind him how insane he sounded.
The Mexican woman hadn’t walked all that far, following him exactly to a ‘T,’ when he disappeared through the floor. Disappearing. Common theme. Again. Lita moved to the lip of the hole and stared down into it before putting her right hip out to her side and rolling her eyes. She didn’t have to follow him. Or do anything he wanted her to do. She should throw this box right down on his head and walk away. Those were just a handful of thoughts that entered the woman’s mind as she stood there, annoyance radiating from her body. “Give me a reason to come with you.” She stated, eyes still looking down the hole, waiting for his reply.
Ambrose Acheron A reason. People always seemed to be looking for reasons nowadays. Ambrose could very easily have given a sound logical reason. He could have mentioned the traps littering the path they had come from and that there was no light at the stairwell to navigate back by. He could have simply pointed out that he could simply make her come with a command and a little bit of force of will. He could have pointed out he’s an elder and she should know better than to question. That however was not the way of things anymore. These modern vampires, they didn’t know of the old ways.
“Because I am asking you to…” comes the voice from below, it has an echo to it, obviously whatever is down there is deep down there and the chamber is quite large to produce such acoustics. From below is also the sound of running water, trickling really and the scent of blood fills her nostrils along with flowers. The darkness beneath her dangling feet is ominously total. There is not a shred of light to see what lies below.
Within that inky darkness waits a monster.
< Adelita > Well, at least he was asking and not telling her to. The woman sighed and shook her head. Who knew what was down there? How far was down? She couldn’t see well enough to answer any of those questions, but one thing was certain. She could smell the blood. Even stronger than the scent of the flowers. “Fine. But if you wanted to play hide and seek, we could have stuck to the less creepier floors.” Was all she said before Lita put the box down next to her and peeled off her shoes. Jumping however far she had to jump was impractical in the shoes she was wearing, anyways. They sat besides the box before she picked the box back up, cursed under her breath in Spanish and then simply walked off the edge. At worst, she would die and come back a few days later. At best? Nothing, but she suspected, with her luck, that no matter how far the drop was, that SOMETHING bad was going to happen to her.
Only nothing bad did happen. Part of her had hoped that the box didn’t make it through the fall. That it smashed and Jose’s head went rolling away in the dark, never to be seen again. That his heart would have been smushed by the weight of the box and all that remained were the flowers. But no, whatever powers that be, whatever gods there were, decided that Jose should remain in one piece (at least his head and heart) and that he should remain in her possession as she landed just fine on the steep drop down.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose is disturbingly close to her when she lands, the fabric of her clothing brushing his chest as she lands and his arms come around her to steady her, an arm around her shoulders, the other hand catching her midriff and slightly lessening her fall. In the total blackness he stands stock still for a moment, hands remaining where they rest. Another blip of a memory, his tongue trailing down over her belly heading down past her navel, his hands coming to rest on her hips…
The darkness is chased away suddenly by the light of a torch as Ambrose steps away from her and ignites the oil-dipped rag on the end of a three foot long 2x4. Turning he continues on into the darkness, obviously expecting her to follow him. The the left an old cistern retains some of the water from the aquifer that once had likely kept this chamber flooded. These days it was just a trickle. Ambrose was passed it, heading south toward and area the is illuminated. Fire drums. The fires are fresh still, the wood burning away within them.
Candles also rest on the outskirts of the altar, though only two of about four dozen are still lit, the rest drenched in blood during the chaotic sacrifice/execution of the young Mexican gangster.
Finally arriving at the altar he turns to Adelita and holds his hands out for the box.
“May I take that from you for a moment?”
<Adelita > It’s a good thing the woman is holding the box given their close proximity. Had her hands been free, who knows what she might have done? What she might have touched, because as Adelita told Elighan; there was an attraction to the man that had her in his arms in that moment.
Thankfully, the darkness they are encased within keeps the woman from acting on that attraction, because while she can physically feel him, Lita can’t quite see him. Being able to see every characteristic of his face would have been dangerous in that second.
The quick glimpse of the memory he chooses to share revives the color in Adelita’s cheeks before her eyes narrow as he lets go of her and the room is ignited with light. “Please don’t do that again.” She was trying to be good. She was supposed to be good, but Tizoc was making it very hard for Adelita to be good when he did that memory thing in her head.
The light in the room brings a realization to the woman when her eyes fall on his frame as he turns to her. Had she actually touched him, had there been no box; her hands would have been met with not only his skin, but Jose’s blood. The blood that was smeared on her shirt now from the close encounter the Mexican woman just had with Ambrose. “Yes, please.” Adelita was more than happy to give the box with Jose’s head in it. Once the box was in his possession, Adelita looked down at the insides of her hands, for maybe a couple of seconds before she curled them up into balls and let them come to rest at her sides. The idea of Jose’s blood on her hands didn’t disgust her as much as the head and heart in the box-it actually didn’t bother her at all. She had wanted him dead a few hours into their initial meeting. Her eyes move back to Tizoc, focusing on Jose’s blood that was riddled with it again. She might not physically have his blood on her hands, but in some metaphorical way, it was there. The initial shock, surprise and horror of Jose being murdered dissipated then, and in some sick, twisted way came the feeling of appreciation from the woman. That she didn’t actually have the thrall’s blood on her hands. While Adelita might want to kill things-she never actually has killed anything out of pure, adulterated hate. She wasn’t positive she actually had it in her; even if she was used to that lifestyle.
Occepa iuhcan yez, occeppa iuh tlamaniz, in iquin, in canin.
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Adelita (DELETED 5973)
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Re: De Amor y Sangre (Of Love and Blood)
Ambrose Acheron Her voice in his ears from only mere inches away, she is in his arms for a minute and Ambrose has to focus to break the connection between them. His hand want to stray back, instead retrieving the box as they do. He doesn’t wait an instant longer, he turns, removing her from his gaze and sets the box on the altar, opening it up and reaching in to remove first the heart, setting it just outside the circle on the altar’s top.--The following was a live chat roleplay--
He walks to the other end with the box and places the head there among the wreckage of flesh and shattered bone. Sweeping his torch over the candles he relights then, blood hissing and smoking as it chars and flakes from the wicks sending the acrid smell of burned blood into the air. The altar is no long slick, it is gummy with mostly clotted blood and gore, a macabre testament to Tizoc’s feelings for the woman before him. After he sets the box down on a nearby crafting table he turns and looks toward Adelita.
“I want you. Here, now. I want to take you again. Push you down, have you before the gods…” He takes a step closer, another flash of memory, his hand wrapped in her hair, pushing her over the back of the sofa in Jose’s apartment. “... I want to taste you…” Another step, bringing a flash of memory, Tizoc looking up, face between her thighs, his eyes locked to hers, followed by a second flash, his looking down, face streaked with blackish blood, chest and shoulders caked with it.
Hand still coated in the drying blood of Jose he reaches up, the scent of the kill overwhelming, his fingertips trail lightly over her cheek, brush away a loose lock of hair, tucks it behind her ear. “I want you as my own.” Another flash, the climax of their pairing, bodies shuddering together, rocking together while their eyes lock.
He spins something in his hand and suddenly the knife, the black bladed knife appears between them, held out toward her in a flat and outstretched palm.
“The second gift is my heart. You are free to take it in whichever method you wish.”
< Adelita > The smell of the burning blood is disgusting and the Mexican woman even coughs a little as it fills the air. That, however doesn’t last long as Tizoc openly admits what he wants, and Lita can’t help but be completely aroused. Nothing was more sexier than a man who knew what he wanted, and how he wanted it, paired in with the fact that he was reliving their night together with the memories he picked to share with her as he admitted these things.
And if she were honest, she wanted those things too; which was part of the reason Adelita kept their encounters short and to the point. The Mexican woman didn’t trust herself alone with him; especially when she promised to try and be good. He touches her; just her cheek, but it doesn’t matter. Adelita is simply goo in his hands and leans into him, her cheek seeking out his hand once again as their bodies lightly kiss against the other; her shoulder coming to rest against his chest.
Until he talks again and mentions wanting her as his own. A somewhat possessive term that has the woman inching away as the strong feeling of fear lies heavy in the air between the pair. She doesn’t move too far before another image comes crashing down in her mind, Lita frozen with fear and desire as she stands before him.
The knife that was used to attempt to abort the dead little monster that was on the ritual altar is seen, then offered to her before Tizoc offers her something probably any woman in the city would want; but affairs of the heart are dangerous things to the woman, so she does not feel in that moment as most women would. Lita feels the overwhelming need to run. To pull out the tome Micah had given her once, that was tucked away for an absolute in need of emergency situations as she didn’t use it anymore, to get away.
There is a small, nervous laugh that echoes in the space they are in before the woman takes the knife and simply holds on to it. “I don’t want it.” What was he expecting her to do with this thing? Potentially cut his heart out? She thrusts the knife back in his direction, indicating that she wasn’t going to be cutting his heart out any time soon; so what exactly did that mean? Nothing to her. At least that’s what she tells herself. It just simply means she isn’t the type of person to do something so dark and macabre.
Ambrose Acheron He closes his hand around the blade of the knife, then takes it with his other hand, setting it too on the ritual table. Blood so dark and thick it looks almost like tar wells up slowly from the wound on his palm. The scent of blood so potent, stronger than she could have imagined fills the air, overpowering the smell of the coagulating Jose, overpowering the candles, the flowers…
He opens his hand then, fingertips coated in the thick substance and reaches up, his thumb tracing her mouth’s curvature and leaving a smear of the viscous blood on her lower lip. He of course makes the assumption her fear comes from seeing the weapon that he had used to kill her. In his time there were no such thing as independent women. Women were married at 16, men at 20. There was no shame in a man refusing to wed, but a woman...
The gift of the heart not accepted, the next thing to offer, his blood. should she accept the gift Ambrose can proceed to arranging the bonding. He’ll need only have the ritual cast and he and Adelita will be bound together. The ceremony, it will be glorious. He already can see it in his mind. The chamber illuminated by flames, the scent of the flowers, the incense, dancing and singing… blood.
His eyes lock with hers, penetrating and riveting as he raises his hand back up, palm up, holding it out to her so she can decide after she licks her lip, Ambrose presumes that will be reflexive, he also knows how the first taste of vampire blood feels. He remembers his own first sip. Though he doesn’t know it, his body is already beginning to build up a tolerance for the stuff...
< Adelita > Almost as soon as he wipes his blood on her lips, Lita’s fingers find her lips to remove the dark colored blood from them. There was sexy and then there was just down right disturbing and these were one of those moments. In her haste to remove the blood, a very small amount slips in between her lips and almost as soon as it enters her mouth, Lita gags and covers her mouth with her hands. It wasn’t sexy to puke in front of anyone either, but that was exactly how she felt in that second.
The woman coughs and gasps for clean air, thinking the air will make the taste go away, only-there’s the scent of blood everywhere in area they are in. A bloodied palm comes to rest at her chin, fingers wiping at blood that probably wasn’t there anymore before she steps away from him. “Are you insane? Why would I want to drink that?” She lets the hand that is resting on her chin come to her jeans where she wipes her hands clean on the rough material. “Would you drink that?” She makes a small face, disgust evident on her face. Not all blood was the same, apparently.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc looks initially surprised at her reaction. He thinks for a moment and understanding dawns on him. Her body, it is too young yet for the potency of an elder’s blood. Even in such small quantities. Usually it tastes like ambrosia, but in too large a quantity it can cripple a vampire not used to vampiric blood. Ambrose knows that enough of it over time makes it impossible to drink from humans, he had seen if happen to his sire. Then again it could have been an outright rejection.
The Darkness within him roils and threatens to burst forth, his shadow casts itself on the wall, arms and head thrown back toward the sky covered by two floors of concrete, dirt and steel. No sound of course emerges from the shadow but it looks to be screaming its rage to the heavens. Tizoc takes a step back and instantly his shadow is once again normal. His face is a mask at that moment. He stands watching Adelita in stony silence before saying simply, “I would taste you again and again regardless of consequence…”
He does not offer his palm again though, a single thick droplet of blood falls and hits the floor. Aside from the trickling water from the north side of the cavern, for a moment that is the only sound between them. Ancient eyes watch her as ancient and near alien thoughts run through his mind.
< Adelita > The shadow on the wall has Adelita taking a step backwards, because she realizes now that the shadows are in fact alive. In some strange sense. Of course, everything in the vampire world was strange and unfamiliar to the woman, so she really shouldn’t be surprised or afraid of anything anymore.
Lita sighs as their eyes stay fixated on the other. “What exactly do you want, Tizoc?” There were two thoughts in her mind and she prayed to god that whatever he would say in response to her question wasn’t the one that she was sure he was thinking. That she was wrong. “I don’t cut out hearts, I don’t drink vampire blood, and I don’t behead humans.” This was all crazy, all of it. What was he hoping to accomplish with something she had seen before, but didn’t completely understand or practice. Did anyone practice these ways anymore?
She slowly started to make her way back in front of him, a hand coming to his face. “How, exactly do you want me?” Lita hoped it was just the way she was used to and familiar with. A night here and there and eventually one of the two moved on; which was just fine with the Mexican woman.
Ambrose Acheron His hand comes over hers, and his other come up into her hair. He keeps his eyes on her and watches them, actually past them, he looks into her mind the moment he says the words. “I wish to bind you to me, me to you.” The ceremony flashes through her mind.. the ritual. The reason for the fadeling corpse sitting resting on the altar clutching the two rings.
Also she feels his hand tightening in her hair, rough but not painful, his words cutting through the memory as if a narrator. “I want you for mine…”
< Adelita > Lita doesn’t know a single thing about binding. In fact, she’s never even heard of it, but whatever it was...it sounded permanent. And from the ceremony imagery, she’s certain he wants the thing she hoped he didn’t want. It looked like something very similar to marriage, which the woman was painstakingly against for a couple reasons. None of which she had ever openly admitted, which was why she preferred the lifestyle she lived currently.
His confession makes her laugh a little. The story of her life. Elighan wanted her to be just his while they had their fun, and now Tizoc wanted her to be his in a permanent sense. “No.” She said in a small whisper. She would have stepped away from him, but with his hands where they were, Lita can’t. “I don’t want that. I don’t believe in marriage.” That wasn’t exactly true. Adelita had believed in marriage up until a few months ago, but the sanctity of that and everything it supposedly stood for had been ruined for her by her padre twice over. “Let me go, please.” She asked him, brown hues staring into the depths of his own eyes.
Ambrose Acheron His brow furrows less at her words than the images in her mind. Her padre, informing her she was to marry a lesser being, a peddler of drugs… someone so far beneath her station that even Tizoc is left wondering at the sanity of such a decision. Adelita obviously detested the man in many ways he reminds Tizoc of Jose. He doesn’t release her, but instead glances toward the altar for an instant and then back to her.
The next memory is a bombshell… her padre betraying her madre, letting her be arrested and taken to prison for drugs that were never hers, all so he could take away the business that her family had left to her. Greed. Rather than share the life they had together, enjoying each other and living in wealth and happiness, her father had sacrificed her mother in his own way. Tizoc feels the pain of the betrayal within Adelita as he watches her. The whole concept of this situation is foreign to him. He has betrayed countless humans to their deaths but never someone he loved. Of course that list consists of Coahoma and Adelita, he still believes the two are inseparably linked.
He doesn’t completely let her go, his hand though withdraws from her hair, merely resting on the back of her head and he steps toward her, pulling her tightly against him. “I will free her for you.”
<Adelita > She believes with her rejection that the conversation is over and done with. And maybe it is, as silence lingers between the two of them and he looks away.
His hand releases her hair, and the Mexican woman moves to step back, and out of his embrace, only to be embraced in a different fashion. The petite woman tensed after he spoke, her hands finding a place on his chest. "Stay out of my head." The woman snaps before she shakes her head. "It is a noble gesture, but impossible. She's in Mexico and it's impossible to leave. And if you do, people will try to find her. There is nothing you can do." There is a slight tone of resignation within the woman, as the hands that were once on his chest find their way to his shoulders. He has opened up both a painful and sensitive subject and Lita doesn't want to talk about it. She doesn't want to stick around either. "I think I should go home." She pushes at his shoulders, the feeling of vulnerability riding heavy in the air.
Ambrose AcheronAmbrose watches her a long moment then turns and walks casually over to the southern wall. He motions to a variety of Aztec glyphs on the floor and tells her where each goes. Fadeportals. He still says nothing but he doesn’t withdraw from her mind either, in fact he digs deeper, looking for more information about her past. She won’t speak of it and there are things he needs to know.
Tizoc has not passed through the fade, through the centuries to miss out on the meaning of the omens he has read because a woman was wrongly imprisoned and her daughter is hurt. No, Ambrose is more interested in rooting around to see if he is right about Coahoma, to see if there are deep similarities in major life events.
To him the bond is not a way to get a wife, it is the path to redemption if he is right about who Lita is. It is a vow renewed that washes away what she and he did that night the Siren came into their lives. Ambrose refuses to believe that was random. Surely the gods had guided their minions to them. It had to be part of their plan. He doesn’t say any of this to Adelita. Merely steps away from the Fadeportals still reading her memories.
<Adelita > She isn't exactly sure where she wants to go as Tizoc indicates where each portal goes. Anywhere that wasn't here with all of Jose’s remains and anywhere Elighan wasn't would work too. It's not every day a girl gets a marriage proposal like this.
Still undecided, Lita goes to the portal closest to her, which according to him, would take her right outside practically. Outside was a good start in the Mexican woman's mind.
Only, her feet only take her a step towards the portal and she stands there in the heavy silence that weighs the room down. That weighs her down.
She is conflicted. Is this goodbye? Lita certainly didn't want to say goodbye, but she didn't want to get binded either.
The silence is unconformable, and reminds her of a time there was silence like this in the much smaller, but still grand casa she lived in up until the age of seven. There were weeks of this; between her madre and padre. Later to be revealed when Lita was older that her madre was unable to carry any more children, even though they had tried often for a male heir to the family business of drugs, guns and prostitution.
"I can go?" Lita asks, her tone clearly confused as she looks at him. For someone who professed to wanting her-he was just going to let her go without a word? "Be careful, si?" It was probably funny, or even odd that she said that to someone who was much older and stronger than she was, but he was at a slight disadvantage due to a lot of changes in the world since he emerged from the dark place.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc watches her mull over which portal to take and still says nothing. He expects her to step onto a portal and disappear but he stops, turns, speaks to him. Tizoc is a near total stranger to matters of the heart in any way unrelated to removing them. His social skills extend as far as wooing favors from the gods and tactical uses of vampiric powers.
Obviously the gods are not going to help him here which leaves Tizoc but one thing to do…
He relies on what he knows. Pacification, a seductive power not to be used lightly. It brings women to want to make you sin against the gods, his sire had told him once. It ignites their loins and makes them pliable. He pushes out, letting the power flow through him and focuses the full brunt of it on Adelita.
He doesn’t move toward her, no. He remains where he is. If the power takes, she will come to him. If she battles it and wins, Ambrose imagines she will want to go. He reaches one hand out to her, one gore stained hand encrusted with flaking blood to her, offering her the chance to take it one last time.
< Adelita > She has never been pacified before, and has only pacified another by sheer accident; Elighan. So the Mexican woman has nothing to reference her change of mind to, or her feelings for that matter either. Lita had been so positive that she was about to leave, but seeing Tizoc there with his hand stretched out to her, made Lita want to do anything but leave. She wanted to stay. Be by him-with him.
Adelita is before him without any hesitation or words. She yearns to be near him, so badly that it actually hurts the woman to not be near him. Her steps are fast and purposeful. The woman wastes no time in snaking an arm around his neck as her hand takes the hand he has extended out. "I want you too." She professes quietly while bringing his hand to her lips, where she kisses the inside of his palm. "Please." Lita whispers as she clings into his frame; the fingers at the back of his neck burrowing into his flesh both softly, yet hungrily. She has not yet drunk the offered blood from his palm; her hunger was clearly more primal at the second.
Ambrose Acheron As she presses against him he reaches up, catching her throat in one hand, loosely for the moment, not guiding her with it yet, his fangs slip down and her eyes seem to unfocus just for an instant. His other arms snakes around her waist and his hand comes to rest on her ***, as he pulls her toward him. Tizoc has a plan.
His lips crushed hers as his catches them in a kiss, not a tentative, testing kiss, one that is reserved for those lovers you know inside and out, for who has she been more intimate with than the vampire who had been all throughout her body and had literally held her heart in his grip. His hand tightens slightly on her neck, almost a reminder that it is there, now holding her there to him as much as the hand pulling her pelvis against his and letting her feel the first stirrings denoting his approval of her.
< Adelita > His words keep running through her mind as she stands before him. That he would taste her again and again, regardless of the consequences as the woman debates on doing the same thing. She isn’t aware of what the consequences are, but they couldn’t be that bad. She’s never heard of anything bad happening from drinking any type of blood. But if he says that he would do it, she trusts him enough to believe it’s fine for her to do it too.
Just as the Mexican woman was about to take the offered palm, the dynamic changes between them. He has her in his possession; one hand around her neck, the other on her butt and she can feel that he wants her too. Maybe not as badly as she wants him in that second, but it’s enough to kindle a fire deep within the woman.
She meets his kiss with insistent lips that want more from him. As they kiss, her lips hurt from the weight of his against hers, and the compelling enthusiasm for her to taste every inch of his lips; much like the night they had first met. Her fingers bite into his flesh as Lita melds against him, attempting to bring out the side of him she knows that is deep within him. She has experienced it first hand and wants to experience it again. There is a soft moan that escapes the woman as her cheeks redden from the intense pleasure that is roiling in the depths of her belly as the fire ignites into that of a wildfire. Her hands move away from the flesh that had once been pierced by her nails and roams the upper half of his body, searching out every inch of him that she can feel. Her teeth bite down on his lower lip as they continue to kiss, either because he wants to keep kissing her, or because Adelita refuses to break the kiss. She is on the verge of losing all her inhibitions, willing to take a taste of him, however it is she can get that taste.
Ambrose Acheron Ambrose feels the need within her, he feels his own. His thoughts turn from plots and plans, dismissing them, all but one. He hand roams up her back, the fingertips barely grazing flesh as they trail the length of her spine, the other hand tightens, cutting up air needed only for whimpers, moans, screams…
Ambrose breaks the kiss momentarily to look into her eyes, register the need written through them and then pulls Adelita back to him, his fangs grazing her lips and letting in a trickle of flavor. as his lips move with hers and his tongue languidly move, touching the tip of her own invitingly his fangs pierce into his cheek,adding his own flavour to the kiss.
His roaming hand comes to rest in the hair at the base of her neck, gentle, not gripping… not unless she tries to pull away…
< Adelita > His reply tells her exactly what she needs to know. His desire for her is felt in the way he kisses her, the way his fingers dance across her skin and makes her shiver with anticipation for more, and the way he holds her to him; as if she were his possession. Something she would normally push away from and try to avoid. Being completely claimed by another.
However, with the pacification and the blood of Ambrose within her, Lita's concerns have dissipated and muted completely. She is no longer cautious and reserved about going too far and being too close to someone. She is the complete opposite. There is no one she would rather be closer to, and no one she would rather be possessed by, than Tizoc.
Her hands once again find a home around his neck and Lita pulls herself up on him and wraps her legs around the male, embracing him like a woman that had been separated from her lover for months, or years, even. She is clinging to him with such ferocity and determination. She will not be parted from him, and if she was to be, she was going to put up one hell of a fight.
Ambrose Acheron Her taste blending with his own… exquisite. The nectar of the gods is a term loosely thrown about by humans who couldn’t possibly fathom the effects of the Darkness lace blood flowing between them as their tongues dance, lips caress and hands search to find that which they desire most…
Ambrose whispers against Lita’s lips softly, “I want you… I want to be with you…” He tightens his grips at the base of her neck, gripping her hair tight to the scalp, a jolt of pain administered along with the pleasure of their kiss, their bodies pressing into one another… pain to get her attention. Pleasure to make her give him what he wants.
He slackens his grip on her throat enough to allow her the air to speak, his wants to hear her said the words… he wants her to surrender.
< Adelita > The Mexican woman is completely enamored with Ambrose for the time being. He could probably almost suggest anything and she would agree to it. It wasn't all him; after all, there had to be desire for the person casting the pacification effects on the other. And there was. Deep down, Lita desired Tizoc a couple of different ways.
What she hears, and what he probably means are two different things, but Lita doesn't register that. She hears what she knows. He wants her and wants to do what they did the night they first met. “Then let's be together.” She says against his lips hastily, biting down on them with her teeth. “Here. Now.” Lita suggests, seductively as one of her hands inches their way down to the only piece of clothing he is wearing, the other keeping her securely locked to his body as the woman hung on to him. “Make me yours, Tizoc.” The woman whimpers against his lips, the woman starting to feel a shred of agony along with frustration from being denied to advance any further with her own needs.
Ambrose Acheron Here and now, impossible. Not before the altar, not here, but he knows where. “The mansion…” Ambrose says between kisses, his hand trailing over her, “The Mansion, we can be together there…” Tizoc steps back slowly, her hand coming away from him, it leaves a longing, a need unfilled. He steels himself mentally and moves to the altar, sweeping the ingredients into a nearby box, much like the one her presented her with earlier containing his gift.
His ingredients gathered, he makes his way back to her, taking her hand and guiding her over to one of the Fade portals. The abandoned mansion where he had met both the young ritualist, Aeryn, and fellow elder Elizabeth Naarc.
< Adelita > There is mention of a mansion and she whimpers softly against his lips in protest. Here was just as good as any place in Lita’s mind. Here was the quickest solution too. Why did they have to go to a mansion? Or why couldn’t they just go upstairs...or anywhere that was closest to here?
Tizoc leaves Lita standing there and she looks down at her hand. She looks down at the emptiness of it and curls her fingers to the inside of her hand so it rests on the woman’s palm. The Mexican woman is starting to recognize some things feel...wrong. Off. She is not the type to hold hands. But before she can say anything or completely register that thought further, his hand takes hers and she smiles once again. It felt so good to be next to him. So right. How could she have thought her hand felt right without his around hers?
They are at the mansion in no time, one hand in his, the other wrapped around Ambrose’s neck, opposite to the side facing her. She is literally draping it around the male as they make their way through the rooms of the mansion. When they get to the door with Aeryn in it, Lita stops and hesitates. “Who is she?” Her tone is a little harsh, but when her eyes move to his face to search out the answer, her face lacks the harshness of her voice. Her eyes search for the answer in the depths of his as both arms wrap around his neck. “Is she a friend?” There is no other explanation for Lita; she assumes that the woman is someone who will join her and Ambrose in their romp in the mansion.
Ambrose Acheron Setting down the box before Aeryn Ambrose hands her a large wad of cash then turns to Adelita. He leans in and catches her lips with his own and runs his fingers through her hair, stepping closer to let the length of their bodies press together. His lips and tongue massage hers, and he feels his own need of her rising. He doesn’t like this woman performing the ritual, it is not how it is done in his custom and Tizoc has done all he can in his power to satisfy the gods prior to bringing them to her.
He turns to Aeryn, pulling away for a moment, long enough to retrieve the rings from her as she pulls them from the box. Looking into Adelita’s eyes he reaches one hand down and places one of the rings in hers, kissing her again while the ritualist sets up the ingredients on her altar. An altar that looks entirely different from the one Tizoc frequently makes use of in the darkness beneath the factory.
He slips his own ring on as he distracts her with the kiss and his hand reaches down, cupping her *** and pulling her to him letting there be no doubt how much he wants her. “Do you want me Adelita?” he asks between kisses.
Aeryn has the ritual set up and the demi-fae already summoned and being coaxed by the strange words her has heard Tizoc himself use. Her dark robes flutter as she speaks, the demi-fae lashing out at her but brought up short by the summoning circle. Unperturbed she splashes in with some of the poisonous chemicals causing it to recoil and snarl at her.
< Adelita > Tizoc is giving the foreign woman a stack of cash and the first thing that comes to Adelita's mind is that the woman is a prostitute of some sort. Business must be really bad if she's waiting for someone to come find her in an abandoned mansion. Or she was very smart. How many people came here? It was abandoned and large, and the woman had the place to herself.
The woman vanishes the instant Ambrose turns his full attention on Lita, the petite woman's hands finding their way against his back as she buries her nails in his flesh. A hand is removed from his back and a ring finds its way in the palm of her hand and Lita's body goes rigid. Foreplay was always a welcomed thing with the woman, but she had never heard of foreplay that involved jewelry that looked like...a wedding ring? Lita's other hand drops from his back and finds his chest, pushing away from Ambrose, but not soon enough. Not before he claims her lips again and stirs the embers of need and desire within the woman again. With her butt in his hand, Lita wraps a leg around the male as he asks her a question that should be obvious. “Si, Te necesito, Tizoc.” Lita whimpered against his lips as she bit down on the lower one, the woman pressing closer to him as she did this.
And then, regrettably, something pulled her attention from Tizoc. Something that sounded like a rabid dog, only...angrier. Lita pushed away from him to see the prostitute and some creature that was almost as ugly as the monster that Elighan had impregnated her with trying to attack the woman. “What is that?” The urge to flee again was imminent and Lita was trying to get away from the little creature she had never seen before in her life; which also meant she was trying to get away from Tizoc too.
Ambrose Acheron Catching her wrist and pulling her back against him he Reinforces his possession of her with the other arm around her waist. His face is calm, unperturbed even as the creature in the circle lashes out in their direction, again brought up short by some invisible barrier. “No, the safest place if with me Adelita. The creature is an agent for powers beyond. I have been listening, and from what I can tell Aeryn is doing the rite very well. You are safe with me.”
He speaks of what the woman is doing as if these rituals were something he does. In fact he shows her a ritual from his memories. The one he chooses to show her is one of the first that he learned, and the result was a smoothly done ritual with the demi-fae lashing out but once. To show her that it is safe. “The rite is near complete… once it is done you will see. I will teach you these things, as your sire should have. I can teach you of what you are. I can make you the bloody goddess you should be, the power and wealth that come with it.”
Coahoma had used her powers for power. She had started to before Tizoc had put a stop to it and taught her how to honor the gods through blood. He could do the same for Adelita. He watches her eyes as he plays her fear of the creature thrashing in the circle against her greed to distract her from the danger of the ritual nearby. His’ thumb traces over her jawline as he talks and ends up presses lightly against her lips as he finishes speaking, his other hand sliding around to her abdomen and then moving down into her jeans at the start of his speech and ending up…
< Adelita > The only movement he makes is to keep her with him. Her eyes are focused on the creature and wide as Tizoc brings Lita back to him. The woman's eyes dart up at his face as he tells her the safest place to be is with him. His face shows no fear on it, and so, Lita believes that here is the safest spot for her to be. She believes that if he was afraid or felt threatened it would show on his face.
A memory is implanted in her mind, showing Lita the reason as to why he wasn't afraid. There was no need to be. He knew what he was doing and the creature seemed to obey his wants. He mentions her sire and her lack of knowledge on what it seems she should know. What she should be doing or at least capable of doing and then there is the promise of wealth and power. Things Lita had and wanted to have again. Things she could have if she stayed here with him and learned what he wanted to teach her.
The softness of his thumb against her face only reinforces that there is nothing to be worried about and soon the fear within her subsided. And vanished when his hand found a home beneath her clothes. She moans out in pleasure as the woman wraps an arm around his shoulder, the hand that possesses the ring closed tightly around the ring, almost forgetting it was in her palm. Her other hand finds his and helps with keeping her distracted from the creature nearby.
Ambrose Acheron As her hand and his work together, his other hand pulls a leather strap from the ceremonial armor on his shoulders and seeks hers, expertly looping around to entrap it with the leather hoop along with his own, leaving them bound at the wrist. Beside them the woman, Aeryn brings the ritual to a close, the demi-fae lashing at her one last time in a futile bid for her flesh before she utters the final word of the incantation. The creature disappears, taking its offering with it, the fadebeast fetus, the fadeling corpse conceive between Adelita and her human disappearing from the world of the physical with the entity.
A warm feeling washes over the two of them, seems to flow through them from the rings, spreading outward, it is the feeling of fresh blood filling dessicated veins, the feeling of the remembrance of sunlight kissing skin with it’s rays. It is a drawing together and sealing of the darkness within them both and perhaps of the human remnants as well.
The eternal bond ritual complete, Aeryn backs away. She is obviously ill at ease around the blood-drenched Aztec priest before her holding a woman from this time period. Tizoc doesn’t move for her, too enraptured with his new bride to worry about the Ritualist at that moment. He in truth had intended to bring her back to his sacrificial altar and given her to the gods. A human able to perform these rituals would be quite the gift. The woman vacates the area immediately and as she flees, Tizoc reaches behind Adelita with their still bound hands, lifting her up against him, her arm twisted lightly behind her back and he moves them over toward the ritual table, lifting her up to press Adelita down onto it as he kisses her with a fervor reserved for that most primal of needs.
< Adelita > He binds one of their wrists together and Lita is a little surprised. She didn't think he knew the first thing about that, but Lita was very open minded about all things sexual. Wasn't one person usually tied up in some way and not both? Maybe he was learning. If that was the case...Lita would be more than happy to assist with his learning.
There is the feeling of warmth that radiates through her and her cheeks flush along with that warmth. The woman doesn't think too much on it, it wouldn't be the first or last time her cheeks reddened in moments like these.
Lita doesn't care about Aeryn and doesn't notice her leaving either--too wrapped up in the waves of passion with Tizoc. He picks her up without any complaint and even maneuvers her around to a location of his liking. Finally, he was giving her what she wanted. What she desired. They were finally going to be together
The second she's on the altar, Lita's legs weave around his and draws him into her as her lips find a home on his chest. Her heels embed in the back of his legs, pinning him against her as each kiss feathers across his chest, her free hand; the one still clutching the ring, hooks around the shoulder closest to him. Lita needs him close to her, and any further delay in fulfilling her rudimentary, most basic needs for the male might literally drive the woman insane.
Ambrose Acheron Tizoc has her on the altar, sitting, facing him, leg spread around him and she is still in jeans for the moment. He has been awake a short period of time and jeans, any pants on a woman was frowned on by the white men and their rules. He’d never seen a woman in pants before. Even the thought or watching them slide off her legs brought a new wave of lust within him. That first night when he embraced three of his childer within a day’s time was the first. Everything had been going so fast in Ambrose new life and now, here, on a foreign altar he would have his wife. Everything was changing.
I'm a marquise diamond
Could even make that Tiffany jealous.
* Adelita has mortal aura and healthy complexion *
Could even make that Tiffany jealous.
* Adelita has mortal aura and healthy complexion *