Lessons Learned in Blood

[Doc]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Trahir Trahison: Entering Twisted Sister, a leather pants and belly shirt clad human female in tow, Trahir makes his way casually to the second floor of the shop. Tonight the Trahison patriarch wears a black t-shirt with no print adorning it, blue jeans and his black work boots. His hair is tied back in a low ponytail and a simple titanium watch acts as a sole accessory for the ensemble. Glancing around for Dominique he spots her and walks over as though they were old friends, boots striking heavily on the floor. There is a smile on his face, it seems warm and genuine, all but the eyes, they are cold as ice as always. “Jane. How are you feeling tonight?”

Dominique: Dominique can barely move without some part of her body throbbing to serve as a reminder of the last time she saw the one speaking to her. She released the cash drawer into the register and pulled out the nightly reading tape. Her eyes drifted slowly from Trahir to the female with an impressive display of ink. The woman's curves were popping and had the shadows dark eyes slowly dropping. Figures. Of course it was his type. She smirked. Hot blooded and following along like a good girl should. "Trahir... With my hands." She nodded to the female with him. "Nice ink."

Trahir Trahison: “I thought about it a little and I figured I would do you a favor. This is Nicolette Trahison. She is my cousin. I’ve enthralled her of course. She’s not really my cousin you see. She can do ink and piercing. I thought perhaps you could put her to use around the shop. Keep your fangs out of her though… her blood is not as tasty as it once was.” He gives a smirk at the fangs part. It’s not a mocking smirk, it is a self-satisfied one. Obviously he feels like he did something wonderful. That all said he pulls his black collared t-shirt over his head and tosses it to Dominique. “Time for the ink, it’s healed enough.”

Healed enough and then some, even the wreckage of his chest from just the night before has sealed up, it looks no more serious than a wound a human would survive already.The scarification is perfect, “I’m thinking of keeping this” He taps the spot where her blade had pierced his heart cleanly the night before. “What do you think?”

Dominique: "I am honored." Her focus leaves the female that he offered up like Ben was one of those standing cardboard displays that perhaps lost its promotional value and was disposed of. "Really."

Dom looks at the woman again and tosses Trahir's shirt to her. "Think you are supposed to be holding his clothes. Prepare for more to hang on to." Stepping around the nearest table she pulls out the ink gun and starts loading the first of several colors likely needed. "Where did you find your cousin? Some random family reunion you crashed one night out of boredom?"

Dominique stepped over the black rolling stool and slowly sank down on top of it. The two looked like the hard to believe pair. She found it a sight to take in. They certainly didn't blend into the general population with their above average looks. She wouldn't tell them that. Let them learn on their own.

Trahir Trahison: “When I decided to have you drain Ben dry… which you didn’t… you missed out on a decent vintage by the way, I contracted Nicolette and another girl to do some work for me. The other girl didn’t pan out so well. Farming accident. No worries, she was known as a loose cannon in her industry, did some seedy videos from time to time. Seems that got her in trouble. Nicolette is from France. Paris to be exact. She speaks English fluently though, bit of an English accent from her tutor. I find it positively musical to be honest. She has worked here in America previously and expressed an interest in staying. She’s also modeled like her competition had, but stayed clean. No skeletons in the closet.”

Trahir glances to Nicolette. “Assist Jane. Hand her what she needs, be proactive girl.” With that he heads to a table and rolls onto it handing a copy of the drawing in color like he had when the scarification was done before. “I’m also looking into cars for you. I think that may have been a little overboard. I was distraught about you cancelling my dinner invitation at the last moment.”

Dominique: Dominique chuckled lightly as if Trahir had told a joke she didn't expect to hear. Her feet pulled her forward to the table where he made himself comfortable. She couldn't say she was entirely surprised he was lying there expecting something to happen.

Nicolette was about to reach for a set of gloves when Dominique cut her off by grabbing a set from the box on the utility cart.

"I got this. Just watch and learn." Jane's eyes took a double take on the woman before the ink gun in her hand fired up. "Ready?"

The fact she was about to sink ink into the very body she had skewered in the heart the night before told her one thing. Just when she thought she had seen and done it all she was once again proven wrong. How much crazier could it really get?

Trahir Trahison: “Let her help, Jane. She’s very good. She will be an asset to your business. I can vouch for her. I’ll have her bring her portfolio for you tomorrow. I hadn’t intended on stopping over but she was excited to see you and see the shop.”

Audacity. Something Trahir has never lacked. Once he has decided on something it may as well have already happened as far as he is concerned. Usually when it doesn't very bad things happen. People generally learn fast enough around him it’s easier to just let him have his way unless the fight is worth fighting.
“If you don’t like her after a probation period, you can fire her and I’ll send her home.” Send her home of course is not Trahir’s way of saying he will ship the woman back to France. It’s much more of a spiritual send off than that.

The thrall busies herself quickly setting up utensils, needles, inks and everything else Dominique will need after glancing at the image. Trahir makes an offhanded motion. “See?”

Dominique: Trahir was still speaking while items were being handed over by the enthusiastic Nicolette. While the ink gun in her hand vibrated she took an unexpected few seconds and gave a slow observing look between Trahir and his newest pet.

Where did crocman find her? Really. Did he stroll into some club between the night before and now? It sure didn't take him long to find a skilled tattooist and piercer wherever it was. It took her over a month to find Ben. If she wasn't satisfactory he would send her packing? Was that even safe?

"If she doesn't work out I am sure she has other skills or talents." Dominique shot a quick smile to Nicolette. "No offense."

Trahir Trahison: The thrall looks at Trahir as if wanting him to throw her a life preserver. “She means you are probably a good lay,” Trahir says amicably. “I wouldn’t know Jane. I don’t play with my thralls like that. Human females are good for a one nighter but then you have to wipe em away so there’s no chance of a Fadebeast.”

He glances to Nicolette out the corner of his eye. She seemed to be trying to puzzle out if Dominique insulted or complimented her going off what her master told her. She looks to Jane then to the floor, face flushed and says, “I’ve never had any complaints in either department, mademoiselle.” The comment brings Trahir’s eyes back to Dominique.

“Well, there you have it. She’s multi-talented. If she gets fired though, she gets wiped."

Dominique: As if the discussion couldn't drop any further in the negative for Nicolette, Trahir announces his made up cousin's fate with all the emotion of a bus driver announcing the next stop. The shadow rolled her eyes and decided perhaps it was time to see if he had himself a keeper or not.

Dominique pushed her feet on the tile beneath and rolled back lifting her *** as the chair stopped. She extended the tool in her hand to the woman with a reserved smile that hid the points behind her lips.

"On second thought how about you show me what you got?" Once the ink gun was safely in Nicolette's hand she stepped back a few feet to watch. "Have any questions just ask."

Trahir Trahison: Trahir’s newest acquisition takes the gun and begins to color in the a scarification with a practiced motion. The treats it like Trahir is a normal customer, striking up small talk and flirting lightly to show Dominique her normal work mannerisms. Trahir is amused, but doesn’t respond to the flirting as any other man would likely. The topics are of course kept light, nothing about anything illegal, nothing about killing, nothing about vampires. All in all Dominique learns that Trahir is South African born, and knows next to nothing about his life as a mortal. It’s as though he has amnesia that started at birth and ended the night he was turned, sitting nearly frozen to death on a park bench in Harper Rock.

The ink flows and Trahir glances over to Dominique. “It’s a lot to shade in. Would you join in so we can wrap this up faster please Jane?”

Trahir is usually very formal and polite, tonight is no exception. In fact every time they have been face to face outside of their first incident when she had seen him feeding he had been initially polite. He saw no reason to change that. Even if he is currently debating completely destroying her life as she knows it in revenge for the sucker-punch… well, the sucker-stab. In truth he has decided to let this encounter decide her fate. Of course he had tried that approach all along but perhaps this time may be the charm. If not, he’ll go about it the hard way.

Dominique: There were a lot of ideas doing somersaults in her head. Some not as entertaining as others. Dominique looked from the cousin picked up out of thin air to Trahir. Her brow barely arched. By now she expected as much coming from the skinned, scar covered vampire. He was the one who was used to calling the shots and standing out in the room. HOPE casually rubbed across the bridge of her nose while LESS lifted the second ink gun already loaded and prepared for use. Her foot nudged the rolling shop chair to the opposite side of the table.

"The sooner the better." She turned the gun on and took over the right side of his back.

Despite several breaks, phone calls,changing out ink and interruptions in general the ink gun in Dominique's hand shut off and didn't fire back up. Nicolette was finished and making use of her time cleaning off what little blood surfaced. Ointment went over the length of his back and another sheet of clinging plastic was sticking to the freshly inked flesh beneath.

"And the process is complete." She announced stretching and splaying her inked fingers to save the minor cramping that could otherwise be expected. "Thanks to your cousin it took half the time."

Dominique stood up and tapped the gliding chair farther back with her shoe. She survived her first scarification piece. Her eyes drifted briefly to both near the table she was working at. Hopefully Nicolette would live to see another day. Her gaze settled on the tall vampire. She wondered why Trahir wasn't out playing more with the human population instead of trying to get her to hook her still awkward fangs into a vein. What was in it for him?

Trahir Trahison: The vampire pushes himself off the table when the ladies are through with their work. He’s long lost the muscle-memory reflex to try and look something over in the mirror so he simply turns his back to Nicolette and she immediately raises a phone up and snaps a picture, handing the device over without a word. Trahir takes it and looks at the results for a long moment.

His eyes move over to Dominique. “I can’t tell which of you did what. You should hire her on. Unless she bothers you. Then I’ll remove her from here and she will go away.”

Nicolette pales visibly and her eyes move to Dominique, pleading silently. She hasn’t know Trahir for long but they had just come from the farmhouse before arriving at the tattoo parlor, she had seen enough to realize that death at the hands of this man would not be quick in coming and would be far from painless.

Dominique can only assume Trahir has instructed the thrall not to speak as the human implores her with her eyes.

Trahir’s own eyes, those cold dead orbs of icy blue, watch on as he awaits an answer. In them there is no sign of mercy, no sign of compassion and no sign of remorse.

Dominique: The last week and possibly more than that gave her a reason to wear the expression she did while looking at him. It pretty much asked if he was serious in what he was suggesting. Hire Nicolette, his not really cousin? The female he brought in hours before that he picked up from who the hell knows where and have another employee in her shop that really was under his influence more than her hourly wage? The tip of her thumb glided along the hard lined of her lower jaw while she blinked once waiting. Perhaps there was a punch line somewhere in the vampire’s delivery.

How long had it been since Ben had been walking around in a daze with a creepy mile wide grin on his face? The fact she killed him should have bothered her but oddly it really didn’t. The guy was essentially brain fried. Burnt toast had more promise of achieving purpose. He was a walking case of major wtf before Trahir got his mind doing the limbo. Perhaps that was it. Ben was an example of the type of human that had no chance of standing up against a vampire. His willpower was pretty much dust. There was nothing to expect from him except to show up for his shift if he was sick of laying on his back and staring at his ceiling. He had nothing going for him and any possibilities for improvement required more effort and energy from him than he was willing to invest.

[Dominique]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Dominique: Currently lost on the former hardcore paladin was the fact that the seeds Doc planted on that cold, cruel New Year’s Eve night were finally starting to break their way through the heavy resistance. All of it was surfacing and heading towards fruition. It would be some time before she would fully appreciate the line of thinking she was entering into when breaking down the value of Ben’s existence. But it was a frightening and profound start. Given enough time the buds of her powerful immortality would bloom. It was inevitable. Hunting, killing and feeding. Yes, even feeding. All of it would eventually come to her. The course her life was on was changed forever and so was the one once known as Jane Dominique Doe.

“Nicolette, care for a job that will use your skills?” Her warm chocolate orbs pinned on the woman in question.

It would be a ***** finding an artist on such short notice now that Ben was out of the picture. Finding one that could pierce, do the scarification to the decree she demonstrated as well as tattoo was next to impossible. It was far more easy during the summer when the artists came north for the summer. Besides the fact there was hardly anything left to the imagination around the shop since Ben’s eyeballs and ears pretty much were in fact Trahir’s. She stared the female down a bit more pointedly. What degree of hold he had over the make believe cousin she was looking at was still a mystery. That would have been infomation she would have been far more versed on had she actually gave a **** in the beginning to learn all that there was to know about the dark side when she first woke up. She had some catching up to do. Her eyes released their hold on Nicolette and landed on Trahir. The shadow could see it would be in her best interests to do it sooner than later.

Trahir Trahison: The thrall, Nicolette breathed a sigh of pure relief and noded furtively. "Yes, please, thank you so much!" Her eyes moving to Trahir as he stood from the table, reclaiming his shirt and slinging it back on. He gives the two ladies a nod to show his satisfaction with the decision.

"Good choice Jane. She will be nothing but an asset to you." He doesn't need to mention that she is loyal first to Trahir. That lesson was taught through the recently departed Ben.

The vampire glances to the picture on his phone once more and gives another satisfied nod at the artwork now permanently engraved and tattooed on his wide back. "You have both done very well tonight." With that he pulls out his money clip and places a wad of hundreds on the table. Another five thousand dollars to pay for the services rendered. "Keep up the pleasant companionship and we will all begin to get along so much better. I know I have put you both through some hardship of late but you will see that it was worth it. I promise you both that."

With that the young Killer turns and heads for the stairs. The night is slipping away into the annals of history and Trahir has much still to do before it's dawn-struck demise between research and having his beloved pets exported to warmer climes for the winter. Come to think of it he has also to figure out another mystery of the vampiric condition before long. He always enjoys deepening his repertoire of tricks of the blood.

"I will be in touch with each of you tomorrow evening. Nicolette, feel free to utilize the West Tower apartment. It is nearby."

With that he is gone down the stairs and out of the shop without a backward glance, leaving Nicolette with Dominique and walking at a brisk pace out into the crisp night air. Business had waited long enough this evening.

As he walks he pulls out his phone and shoots off a text to Doc.
----

Text convo between Doc and Trahir

Trahir Trahison: *text* Doc, it's Tee. Have you spoken with Jane lately?

Doc: Doc read the text, and snorted. To him Jane was his receptionist at work. How Tee knew her.. well that he didn't know. *Text* Yes. I talk to her every day.

Trahir Trahison: *text* Watch this video. *file transfer begins, the video showing Dominique shooting a man in the head on her farm and using celerity to vanish, the quality is very good, even her tattoos are easily visible*

Doc: As he watched the video, he easily recognized Minx. The question was, or questions, as the case may be; how did Tee get this video, why did he want it in the first place, and what did he hope to gain from showing it to him? First question, did Tee have Minx' place bugged? If so, why? Or did he hack into her video feed? He would have to talk to her. She needed to secure that ****. Back to the matter at hand, why would Tee hack her feed? *Text* Do you stalk all cute females? or is my Spawn your sole stalkee?

Trahir Trahison: *text* She's my neighbor. It's hardly stalking when I open the front door and she's right there.

Doc: *Text* Perhaps, though you would have to admit having a video feed of someone else's property, and taking the time to scan said video feed, tends to lean toward stalking.

Trahir Trahison: *text* Well, actually it was more of an entrepreneurial attempt at filmography... That isn't your Spawn on the screen.

Doc: *Text* I see. So you faked a video implicating my spawn in someone's death, and breaking the masquerade for.. what? Shits and Giggles?

Trahir Trahison: *text* More to change an attitude she held about feeding. It's working by the way. She has fangs now. I'm fixing her.

Doc: *Text* Faking a video showing my spawn breaking the masquerade is fixing her? What the **** are you smoking?

Trahir Trahison: *text* Well, technically there is a second video. It's real. Neck breaking. I'm blackmailing her into hunting. Or was. Until she stabbed me in the heart and I blew up her car.

Doc: *Text* You blew up MY ******* CAR! Which by the way.. I will expect remuneration for! And word of advice, from someone who has been there.. Be careful what you wish for.. You are making an enemy. A formidable one.

Trahir Trahison: *text* I think she is warming up to me. You should see the back piece she did. Scarification plus filled in. The Trahison crest. Quite lovely. Besides, all I want is for her to hunt with me. One time. If she hunts with me she will understand what it means to be what she is and I'm confident that she will walk the right path.

Doc: *Text* You don't have a lot of experience with females do you?

Trahir Trahison: *text* Just humans. I tend to kill them after I'm done to avoid fadebeasts. I'm not sure what that has to do with Jane hunting though.

Doc: *text* Jane ******* hates you. And I am not feeling very generous toward you myself.. since you blew up my CAR.

Trahir Trahison: *text* Forget the car a minute. I'll get you a better car. Focus. I'm making progress. She grew fangs, has murdered two people (one of them her friend). It's only a matter of time before she actually acts like what she is.

Doc: *text* Precisely! And unfortunately.. you will be nothing but a greasy spot by the time it's over. You are opening pandora's box.

Doc: *Text* And I ******* loved that car!

Trahir Trahison: *text* We shall see. The car was really her fault. Had she not attacked me directly I would have left the proximity mine disarmed.

Doc: *Text* You instigated the incident. Any collateral damage is your fault. Use this incident as a lesson. She will go on the offensive. She is no shrinking violet. You text her, she will try her damnedest to obliterate you. And I will not stop her.

Trahir Trahison: *text* Actually she started it by interrupting my feeding. It was rude.

Doc: *Text* You instigated it by attempting to 'fix' her.

Trahir Trahison: *text* She was broken. She'd never fed, had no fangs. She needed help.

Doc: *text* She was far from broken. You have no vision. You want things the way you want them.. and you want them now. Masterpieces take time.

Trahir Trahison: *text* I'm taking my time. Haven't set off the explosives under her farm yet have I? She'll see things my way. She'll be calling you up asking to hunt with you in a week.

Doc: *Text* I like you Kid.. but you have a lot to learn about females. Eternity is a long time to have someone like her hate you.

Trahir Trahison: *text* It won't come to that. I will text you later on, the movers are at the door.

Doc: *Text* You're an optimist. Good luck with the move.

(Doc Minx Convo)

Doc: Doc decides to do what he does best, instigate ****, *Text* Tee says you look cute when you get all hot and bothered. I think he loves you. Be easy on the guy.

Dominique:Dominique watched the inked body closely that was opening up the shop and going through the motions she usually would. The cell phone in her hand lit up and she pulled her focus from the female and glanced at the incoming text. Her face soured instantly. [Text] How would he know? I have yet to be hot and bothered around him. Pissed off and raging...yes. And I have seen his heart on the end of my blade. There is nothing in there remotely viable let alone capable of the weakest emotion on the planet. Whose side are you on anyways. Need I remind you...she is resting in pieces. Ever find a momento?

Doc: *Text* Hey now.. don’t kill the messenger, just saying he likes you. He must since he has hacked into your video feed to watch you.

Dominique:The phone lit up again and so did her face for all the wrong reasons. Her jaw tightened. She wanted to peel him apart in ways none of the scalpels she used earlier could possibly do. The two shark inked thumbs went to work firing off a reply while HOPE and LESS cradled the device in her hand. [Text] I I think he is lacking entertainment. I can fix that, though, and I shall.- She hit send and lifted her body from the shop stool it was planted on.

Doc: Doc smirked crookedly. His job was done.

--------------

The next evening...

Gertrude: Gertrude had been given a task to do. A simple one. It was a favor really. He had smiled at her when he asked her to do it. How could she say no? He had such pretty eyes, of course she would do it. Then he would remember how important she was to him. Yes. She would do this favor. However, as she pulled open the door to the tattoo parlor, she had second thoughts. This was a den of inequity if ever there was one. Standing just inside the door, she cleared her throat to catch someone's attention. Rummaging in her purse that had seen far better days, she withdrew a scented silk handkerchief and held it to her nose. It was a gesture born of habit, but a comforting one. The scent soothed her nerves.

Casting a gaze about the business, she could not help but wonder how that dear man's daughter had chosen such a life. It was clear he was worried about her. Worried about her but he obviously didn't want to show he was worried. Why else would he ask her, and ask her so sweetly at that, to deliver a package for him. She didn't even care what was in the package. She knew it was a ruse. He obviously wanted her to scope out the daughter's business and give him the 411 on it when they met up again. Perhaps they could meet over tea and biscuits. Yes.

Dominique: Dominique looked up from the red and black customer counter. Her hands continued the work of loading printed off pages of designs into the plastic sleeves of the large binder that would rest on the coffee table for use when the computer was otherwise occupied. Sometimes there were more patrons curious and looking than there was bodies disrobing and offering up fresh flesh for canvas. She didn't mind the small gatherings that would form for such a purpose. a tattoo was a commitment and it was one that needed to be thought over carefully. Her large eyes fixed on Gertrude, the clerk from neverland, and then narrowed down. "Gertrude..." The tone of her voice was so close to sounding like Jerry Seinfeld's acknowledging Newman that it had to sound bizarre to anyone else within earshot.

Gertrude: Making note of everything that could be deemed unsuitable. The clientele for starters. The male on the bench was most assuredly on America's Most wanted. And the females hovering about him with that dull witless look to her, was his gun moll. Gertrude sniffed in disdain just as his Daughter noticed her.

"About time young miss." She stepped a few steps further in, "And a proper greeting for a business entrepreneur would be 'Welcome, please have a seat,, Someone will be with you shortly.' What it isn't, is a crudely blurted name." She tutted to herself. She would have to take Dr. Nilson's child in hand.

Dominique: HOPE tried to move the paper in the plastic sleeve but the woman's presence was just the stimulus needed to make the otherwise simple task suddenly more of an irritant than productive. Each finger slowly released the colorful drawing of an anchor covered in thorns and roses while LESS pulled the book closed. The portfolio slid beneath the small shelf under the counter. "All of this would have been a huge loss of information had you not just been so generous to share it with me. As for that seat, I can't offer you the toe of my shoe in public without appearing to be threatening you so there is that to consider. You sure you stepped into the right place? The bingo supply place shut down a while back. The only ink I have to offer is permanent." Her lips pulled into a gradual grin setting off the dimples in her cheeks.

[Trahir Trahison]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Gertrude: Gertrude leveled an unimpressed and frosty look at her. "Sarcasm is unbecoming of you." Stepping further into the business, she pointedly turned about, taking in the details of the place. It was all very modern and plastic looking to her. Young people today just did not appreciate the finer things, such a shame, going for the glitz and glam, instead of focusing on reliability and longevity. Finally pinning her gaze once more on Dr. Nilson's daughter, she extended the package out to her. "Your father asked me to drop this by, since he knew I was coming this way." She gave a self satisfied smiled that she was unaware of doing, as she patted her hair with her free hand.

Dominique: Dominique eyes chased the route of Gert's as they took a slow tour of the shop around them. She could only imagine what was going on in the woman's mind. a huge part of her was glad she didn't know. Lately she had been having a few issues with humans in general. Actually more than a few. Gert was at more risk than she knew and that was probably a good thing. Her warmth was hard to miss and the irregular pulse Dominique could pick up while moving closer was not in aging females favor either. The points behind the shadow's lips itched if that was possible. So did her tongue and gums. She felt a knot form somewhere non specific then it quickly unraveled as if all that it was comprised of frayed and spread out through her trying to take hold of her. It was an awkward sensation that was becoming a consuming matter when it reached her thoughts.

She reached out slowly when a package was offered in the space between them. Doc was the one who sent her. What a shame. the idea of introducing Gertrude to the business end of a scalpel was increasingly appealing. "What do we have here?" Her smile appeared once more while taking the delivery into her hold. "He is always thoughtful like that." She eyed the woman not making any move to open the wrapper. Let Gert wonder. It was good for the advanced aging population to use what they had left. Surely the bingo mistress' walnut upstairs had not fully cracked yet.

Gertrude: "Yes.. yes he is. A dutiful and loving daughter would write him a thank you note." It was said in a tone that clearly indicated that Dominique would not be that kind of daughter. "But there is always hope, isn't there?" Gertrude gave her a polite smile that never reached her eyes. She had what information she needed, she had delivered the package, a quick glance at her delicate wristwatch told her there might be time indeed for her to go make some fresh biscuits for their tea. What man didn't enjoy freshly made biscuits with tea? "Well then Young Miss... is there a message I can deliver to your father?" Said again, as though she already knew the answer was no. Ungrateful thing. That poor man, she would make it up to him.

Dominique: Dominique wanted to bundle Gert up with a ball of rope nice and tight and dangle her from a tree. The thought entertained her until the silence reminded her that she was asked a question and an answer was expected. Normally she would refrain from answering the woman at all just to hopefully wedge a thorn of irritation back for the fact she stepped into the shop to begin with. Surely it would give the woman at least fifteen minutes worth of annoying chatter and critique time in her sire's office upon her expected return. Not this time though. The petite shadow had something else in mind. Perhaps it would amuse Doc as well.

"Yes, there is actually." The package was placed gingerly upon the counter between them. "Please tell him that I appreciated his attention, his hands and his skill last evening. He gave me exactly what I needed and I was never quite so comfortable sleeping away from home as much as I was with him conveniently within reach." It was so twisted even her own mind shuddered but watching Gert's face for a reaction had her glued for results. "He knows what he is doing, Gert. No man alive quite has his touch. You feel so good beneath his contact that you are left begging for him not to stop." HOPE scooped the package back up and wiggled it a little for distraction. "It would blow those nylons off your legs that you likely spend twenty minutes trying to break free of the plastic egg packaging they are sold in." She winked. "He has a thing for the thigh highs by the way. French lace that clings to the inner thigh and whispers when he gets between them." The doorbell downstairs in the custom shop rings. "Imagine that. I have work to do. Please feel welcome to stay and look around."

Gertrude: Gertrude’s breath caught in her throat as it tightened as though a boa constrictor were wrapped about her. Why that naughty thing! To intimate such a thing about dear Doctor Nilson. Oh yes, the child had caught her off guard, but two could play that game. "Nylons indeed." Gertrude sanctimoniously simpered. "Silk.. from Paris, given to me by .. yes.. you know who." She had the gall to wink right back at her, though it had more of an owlish blink than a wink. "And he is quite skilled with his hands, as I know first ... hand." With pert spin on her toe, she sauntered out. Once outside, she almost giggled. Carefully looking about, to make no one noticed her, and they hadn't, she allowed herself a knowing smile. Thigh highs hmmm.. one quick stop at the shop before it was tea time.

Dominique: A visible shiver of Dominique's body instantly had one patron sitting on the black leather sofa looking toward her. She felt the pop of every part of her flesh that could do such rise instantly. Her face scrunched up and a severe sour expression took hold. The images in her head were enough to make her ill. Doc and the ancient Shar Pei of the bingo world getting it on. Why did the woman have to hate her so much she left her with that to linger and feed on her mind? "You suck." Unfortunately even that statement left her more nauseated than Gert was to be insulted.

Trahir Trahison: Around the time Dominique was having her unhappy reunion with Gertrude, Trahir emerged from his crypt In the Old Town Cemetery. In the icy stillness of the graveyard he takes a moment to acquaint himself with his mistress, the night. The winter moon looked to have a halo surrounding it in the cold crisp air while the vampire looked up at the darkened sky, a sheet of black canvas, pin pricked with tiny points of light but never truly illuminated. He enjoyed the night sky when he was alive though he would never remember that fact. He didn't mind the cold either. His body was dead, the heat of life long departed from its lifeless limbs and only the facade of such remaining. He was cold since his turning and cold he would remain for all time henceforth. He was swaddled in the darkness of the night as his body, the dead shell, the husk, swaddled the Darkness within. He was contemplating time. He often did as the moon made its trek across the empty canvas above.

Trahir was not much a believer in delayed gratification. Sometimes it could sweeten the results of an endeavor, but in general to the Killer the ends justified the means and the longer something too the wider the margin for error became. Quick, decisive thinking and action had merits over and above slow, methodical and deliberate actions at times. Time was only on one's side when one controlled the pace of events while they unfolded.

This was one of those times. He was currently firmly in control of the situation with Dominique and giving her time to regroup and come at him would be folly. Trahir's best bet was to keep the vampiress off guard and floundering, to keep doing the unexpected. He had to keep the pace of their interactions at a hellish breakneck pace in order to keep her off his throat. Soon that would change. Soon.

He doesn't bother contacting Nicolette at the moment. He has no need of her and Trahir Is not one for idle banter with mortals without there being a purpose behind it. The woman can have the evening off if Dominique has no immediate use for her. Trahir suspects however that his thrall is busy putting ink on a skin canvas at the studio or she is doing something else to ingratiate her to either her new boss or Trahir himself. She was an attractive woman and very likely prone to getting her way when it came to men. Corentine had always taken a man's desire to please a woman as some kind of weakness. Trahir couldn't have disagreed more. He believed in maintaining the decorum of chivalric behavior outwardly. Brute strength was a tool to be utilised by those without the means or wherewithal to get their way by more skillful and artful methods.

He had seen his pets packed up and exported the night before. Off to Florida to winter over at the St. Augustine Gator Farm where one could find every known species of crocodilian, several other reptiles such as the fearsome Komodo Dragon and even some terrestrial and arboreal species of avians. Trahir had enjoyed the cassowary. The thought that it was pretty much a feathered velociraptor made him smile. Evolution was a beautiful thing. He could attest to that fact himself. He had changed so much in such a short time that it made him stop in wonderment on occasion.

His thoughts on evolution brings him back to the matter at hand. Evolution never just happens. There is always a catalyst. That catalyst is preservation and survival of a species. Dominique was undergoing her own evolution at Trahir's hand and he had to at least show her that it came with certain boons. If there was no reward for good behavior, why behave? She was not of upper class breeding obviously. That meant she would respond differently than he would in many situations. She wouldn't think of social or political ramifications. She would think like a peasant.

A simple text. A text any number of hopeful suitors had sent out to any number of prospective female companions through the years. Nothing the average lady would bat an eye at in surprise for the most part. Except of course that Trahir was no hopeful suitor and nor was Dominique a woman he coveted in a romantic way. Apart from the simple fact that Trahir was disinclined to go about creating fadebeasts, Dominique had done grievous harm to his person during their encounter at his farm. Obvious to the aristocratic sociopath was the fact he was dealing with a fairly simple woman. Therefore he keeps his message simple. Like his new thrall she was visually appealing though. He pushes the thought away.

The text is one word, an interrogative. "Dinner?"

Dominique: Dominique picked up her cell phone as she moved by the utility cart in the shop. The boxes of custom hood decals landed on the floor by her desk for her to check in. She moved around the Han Solo inspired carbonite desk and landed in the empty chair. A quick scroll of her thumb pulled up the latest of many bizarre messages she had been receiving. What happened the endless hours of no word from a soul or a set of fangs that was not business related. It was enough to make most paranoid. Not Dominique. Whatever came at her she was down for dealing with and sending it on its way with a lesson learned. Perhaps even a couple. the message was scanned without a lapse in time for her fingers to send off a reply.

Time. Date. Place.

Dominique needed to know only those three details. The rest she would take care of. She needed time to prepare. Most would be rushing out to find the right shoes, handbag or even the lace lined unmentionables that they would sweat it out hoping to reveal late in the night. Not Dominique. She knew very well what this invitation was about and it certainly was not anything remotely leading up to what color of silk she chose to place over her skin to entice the dining companion's eyes. The traps and weapons crafter would invest the time others used up going through clothing racks calmly perched at her crafting table.

The shadow was a firm believer that there was something to be said for presentation and the element of surprise. To achieve that reaction one must be intending to take the level of anticipation for what would be revealed next and send it through the roof. Preferably sky high if at all possible. That was one talent she was known for. Who knows...if she worked her magic just right he might not get a chance to sink his teeth in for that first bite. Success would be his buffet shut down faster than the unsuspecting humans could blink.

Trahir Trahison: Date, time and place... well that was curt, but cordial enough. Trahir looked at the three words on the screen for a moment and considered his options. The date was easy enough. That would be today. The time as well needed no forethought. Now of course. It was hard to keep one off balance when allowing them time to set up. He had learned that Dominique was unpredictable, perhaps unhinged and had a propensity for violent meltdowns.

For a Shadow she was as subtle as a flashlight in the dark. While he was a Killer he was first and foremost a vampire and that meant that certain rules such as secrecy needed to be paramount. He would teach her. He believes she is almost ready to feed, but not yet not straight from the tap so to speak. And so it is Trahir sends back: "Now, My farmhouse. Come unarmed, your safety is guaranteed. You have my word."

As soon as he hits send he is there, celerity bringing him across the city in the blink of an eye to Walnut Grove. It is a short jaunt from there to his property through the stillness of the cold night and soon he is stepping inside the old plantation house. He makes his way to the back room, once the master bedroom and retrieves a bottle and two red wine glasses. These he brings out to the porch and sets down on a two seat table.

The extent of his preparation complete the vampire sits down to wait, humming softly to himself.

[Dominique]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Dominique: The reply to the text was quick. she barely had time to make it to her lock boxes upstairs when the cell phone was blinking for attention. What couldn’t wait until she was done crafting?

Now. Arrive unarmed.

Dominique’s face deadpanned as she stared at the response. So much for giving a lady a chance to get ready. Nevermind. Trahir Trahison was not concerned about the traditional details that would go along with such an invite. The locker in front of her closed and she slid the custom gun behind her back. HOPE released it letting it settle nice and snug into the small of her back. A silver sparkle followed the blade of her sword that went into the place she carried it over her back.

“Can you believe it?” She glanced down at Rufus who was blazing trails across the industrial floor in her office. “Come unarmed. I am supposed to forget the fact that all that is left of her is the tire to make you a swing out of.” She sighed watching the small shell scoot slowly past her feet. She was actually talking to Rufus as if he understood a thing she was saying. He didn’t give a ****. He was heading towards the leather loafers someone had left behind and she knew damn well what he would be up to while she was gone dealing with Crocman. “Clean up after your one man party. I might be late getting back in.”

The lights went out as the shadow exited the shop and found her way to her second choice of quick travel without using that time saving celerity power. Fadeportal. The one she used dropped her to her Walnut Grove farm. A short walk through the living room and a few steps more beyond the hall and she was pulling open the door to step out on the land she grew her favorite crop that had many uses. The tire and dented custom rim nearly popped out barely got a glance from her as she continued on. Shards of metal was a trail she had no choice but to follow as she headed across the road and into the entry of the crocodile farm. Her feet did not stop stepping. He had all the time in the world to watch her arrive from his vantage point. He said now. She was never one to shy away from her end of the bargain. It was her that asked when.


Trahir Trahison: Perfect. There was movement near the fence. Too small to be a car, too large to be any of the indigenous animals in the area. He could have sharpened his vision via hyper-perception but honestly, if it was not Jane coming down the path to the house it would be a pleasant surprise. Trahir had, after all, just freed up the swastika.

Alas, it was his expected and intended guest. Apparently she took things as literally as he. This he lodged away in his mind for future use. Punctuality was important to the Killer. It denoted a sense of personal responsibility and a commitment to doing things as they should be.

Now it was a matter of teaching her how things should be.

She was a paladin at heart. Honest and noble to a fault. Holy Knights of a bygone era who traversed the lands destroying the evil which threatened to overtake their world… vampires, demons, werewolves, ghosts, and other creatures beyond the ken of the young vampire had no doubt been the intended prey of that noble order which had shat Dominique out on the streets of Harper Rock, expelling her in the path of Doc and eventually flushing her, warped and twisted by the blood of the vampire to end up expelled into the sewage that was the life of the vampire Trahir currently.

He simply watches the tainted “noble knight” approach with a smile. When she reaches within thirty feet he stands, acknowledging a lady approaching the table. When her foot hits the first step of the porch he steps forward to meet her. By the time she is all the way up, his arms encircle her, his lips pressing sidelong against each cheek in a kissing gesture common in much of Europe while his hands instantly move over her and jiggle the weapons he had requested her not bring.

The thing about the noble paladin, any noble for that matter is their honor extends as far as their privilege. In truth they are no less likely to lie than a common swindler. He makes no motion to disarm her, merely steps back after the kiss of greeting has been delivered on each side and motions toward her chair with the sweeping of one arm accompanied by the slightest of bow, his eyes meeting hers with nothing but an accusatory glare...

“Miss Doe, your table awaits.”

Dominique: The greeting was hardly what she expected. In fact it was the one thing she had not even thought of. Her brow arched slowly and her recently kissed face cocked a bit in surprise as she looked at the table that she was being invited to. Was this an elaborate attempt on his part to distract her before pulling out yet another surprise guest for the appetizer or main course? Was there going to be some sort of dance to the crocodile rock to follow? Her eyes drifted to the seat that was being offered. Her head didn’t move but her eyes shifted back and forth. She listened closely to the silence that followed the offer.

“Thank you.”

The words rolled off her tongue and seeped over her lips. It was bizarre that she was even saying them to the vampire in front of her. Thank you? For what? Not turning into the overgrown lethal lizard that he could if pushed? Or perhaps thank you for not blowing up her farm across the road just like he did her beautiful rare mustang? Maybe it was thank you for the fact there was no current employee chained to the back of the chair he was sitting in needing a quick adjustment of the space between her intact C1 and C7 vertebrae sending her to a permanent slumber.

It was getting easier all the time. Killing.The sweet scent of Ben’s blood warming her up was far more real in her mind than it was in the watering of her mouth as she stood there contemplating having a seat. She could taste him still spilling over the porch where she currently stood and in the past that may have been incredibly disturbing. Now it was quite the opposite. She counted the seconds that passed before she was sure he was making no other moves. Her appetite grew and so did her curiosity at the bottle and the glasses on the table. Finally her body folded and claimed the chair by sitting down. She leaned back carefully and kept her eyes fixed on him. The press of the cool gun in the small of her back gave her reason to be careful how hard she settled against the back of the chair.

“I admit this is a bit of a surprise.” That was the understatement of the year. However, she was hardly counting out fireworks appearing just yet. He was capable of this surprise then he most certainly was able to pull a few more tricks. “I don’t know what to say.”

Trahir Trahison: Sliding easily into the seat across from her, the Killer steeples his fingers, elbows planted on the tabletop before him and leans forward, eyes closed, forehead touching his outstretched thumbs. “You could start by explaining why you come to dinner so armed when specifically requested not to,” he begins, his voice mellow, so calm that even a mild breeze would carry more ferocity within it’s whispers. “I guaranteed your safety Dominique, or Jane if you prefer. There can be only one need that would bring you to carry blade and gun. One desire. I will tell you I myself am unarmed. I intend you no harm. Can you espouse the same sentiment toward my person?”

Which that he casually reaches over to the bottle, grasping it by the neck and pulls it partway toward him. His index finger hovers over the cork and his fingernails extend, turning into razor sharp claws able the rend flesh and bone with equal ease. The talon upon his index finger plunges into the cork and he crooks the finger, pulling the cork loose with a low almost ominous pop.

“The last time I tried to sup you your sword found its way into my heart. Are you going to assure me this will not be the case this evening?”

He raises the bottle, tilting it toward her and pours a generous portion into the empty red wine glass before her before bringing the bottle toward himself and repeating the gesture with his own crystalline receptacle.

“I hope tonight we could be civil and discuss things.”

Dominique: Dominique eyed Trahir quietly across the table. The spots on her cheek where he pressed his lips to her skin stood out in the otherwise cool air. The contrast of rage from the night before to civility this particular evening would be disturbing except for the fact the one across from her pouring a bottle was just that all in his own. Disturbing. She had enough interaction with him to figure that much out. Nothing surprised her when it came to him. Not one thing.

The shadow was secure in her silence for the moment with where she was sitting. Enough so that she hardly showed any surprise in her expression while she watched the elongated claw come out and pluck the cork from the bottle with ease. It was as if it happened every night between them. One war followed by ceasefire dinner for two beneath the stars.

The fact was Dominique was no newcomer to the willpower rodeo currently taking place between her and Trahir Trahison. Far from it. The killer wanted her to see things his way, to be what he was and what she was intended to be. Oddly she did not dispute any of that. She was a vampire for nearly two years. She couldn't forget that fact no matter how much she had tried.

"I can assure you that I am quite capable of being civil, amicable and even receptive to conversation without violence being involved." The sweetness in the air was growing stronger much to her surprise as her lips stayed open. Almost too sweet to ignore. "Violence, however, is an element of the world we have been borne into, Trahir. Being armed more often than not aids in my surviving another night. I stand alone. In doing so it is ironic that it is being prepared against my own kind that calls for my weapons to be carried. I have yet to have need for them against humans. Imagine that."

Trahir Trahison: “Oddly enough, it has been the opposite with me.. You being an exception. I have entertained some of the city’s most notorious vampires here at the farm without incident. I left you a bottle of blood, had a movie playing for you when you came over and even had a fresh meal waiting for you when you got back from a visit to my pond and chose to stab me rather that dine with me.The only others who have been so violent have been police, paladins and human hunters. Perhaps I should have laid out dinner picnic style down there but my pets tend to make pond side dining a little bit on an adventure at times.”

He reaches out and lifts his glass, holding it aloft in toast. “To you, a vampiress finding her fangs and perhaps her place in the world. I have a suspicion that you still don’t really know what that is of yet. Let me show you, Jane Dominique Doe.”

That said he awaits the typical clinky clinky, eyes unyielding and locked on hers. Most women would see lust and promises of sexual abandon within those eyes but if one knew what to look for, that energetic anticipation is not what brings the spark into the pale blue portals before her. There is a semblance of excitement there to be sure, but the energy, it is about power. Dominance. Trahir wants her, but not under him in the throes of passion. He wants her under his control to one degree or another. He wants to own her like he owns the Rolls, the farm, his prized gun. He wants to possess her.

“Let me teach you what you are…”

Dominique: The glass was as cool as to be expected beneath her fingers upon first contact. HOPE held it gingerly at the base as if it could break. The tip of her finger moved slowly to caress the the smooth surface beneath it. Her eyes followed the lift of his glass careful not to linger on his eyes for too long. Not in this instance anyways. It gave him more confirmation that he was in the lead. All of this could have been and likely was orchestrated. She looked out to the space of land that she had walked from. His words found her and as he finished a partial smile found the left corner of her mouth.

Jane Dominique Doe heard that line in so many variations it was amusing ...in the past. She was certain Trahir was dead serious or in the very least taking himself seriously when he said it. He could rest assured she was as well. But there was a problem. Dominique knew what it was. If anyone knew her best it was herself. Which is why it was hardly a surprise that Trahir thought she had to be taught anything at all.

First it was her grandfather who said it. Not once but a million times. From there it went on to her teachers, the nuns, her priest, the friends, the crazy neighbor two houses down, Verne, Doc, the frequent warm blooded visitor who continued to be more elusive than she could ever be and now Trahir Trahison. Hell, even Gertrude said it in not so many words while stuffing the pregnancy test kit in the brown paper bag while she waited in her Batgirl costume at the corner shop.

“And just what is that, Trahir?” Warm chocolate orbs sparkled with the natural smile that now filled her face. It was genuine while revealing the dimples that were anything but naive. HOPE took a graceful hold of the glass and lifted it to nearly meet the one waiting across the table. “I am curious as to what it is you think I am. I will tell you how close you are when you are finished.”

Never one to leave anyone hanging with any matter at hand her glass made slow work of closing the distance between them and tapped the side of his. A clinking sound echoed as she fixed her eyes on his. Deep, dark, ominous blue hues were there to discover and wade in if she was so inclined. That is if that was really her thing but it wasn’t. She had seen blue eyes before. They had been the windows to a beautiful living soul. Where she was sitting there was nothing close to that in her or in Trahir Trahison. As HOPE came back towards her she felt the darkness closing in on both of them. She welcomed it. More for herself than anything else.

Trahir Trahison: As their glasses touch, the sound ringing clearly through the crisp night time air Trahir looks up and into Dominique’s eyes. His vision enhances, becoming so acute that he could pick out every pore, every fiber of hair. Every eyebrow and eyelash individual visible for his scrutinizing gaze. He takes in the sight of her in detail so fine a microscope would be proud. He only leaves his senses heightened for the briefest of instants, enough to hear within her… nothing. No blood rushing through veins delivering oxygen to faraway limbs through arterial passages and capillaries. No thudding of the heart muscle as it endlessly slogged on, laboring to keep that crimson flow and ebb going. No air being drawn into the vacancies of her lungs. Nothing.

He keeps the power going for one inhalation of his own breath. Drawing in her scent, the encroachment of an impending thundershower filling his nostrils overlaid with the scent of moonflowers. His eyes close, the scent wafting through the air heightening further with the loss of the sense of sight to distract from it.

As the power fades away Trahir’s eyes open once more, locking to hers. “Memento mori, girl. You are dead. A walking requiem for the woman you were before. A cheap imitation of a life lost but clung to by a husk in it’s shape. You think you are living your life as who you are. You are not. You are floating through the danse macabre with very little sense of the truth. You are a Shadow. You are born from the darkness and by clinging to a light that was, you are simply dimming the truth of the darkness you are. Until you realize that who you were is not what you are, you will never find any semblance of peace within and will wander through endless nights lost.”

He takes a long sip of the blood, after inhaling the coppery smell rising from the bell curve of the glass. He let’s the blood paint it’s flavors over his palate, once more allowing his eyelids to slip down over his vision, removing the distraction of one sense to bring that of the olfactory and the tastebuds to the forefront, savoring the purity of the vintage he had selected for the evening before swallowing it down. The liquid soothes the burning thirst immediately, assuaging it for the briefest of instants, the only true peace a vampire can truly know.

“The worst of it is you won’t deny it. You’ll pay lip service to it as truth but cling to your past like a life preserver in a storm. By doing so, all you do is keep the tempest at full power raging against you.”

He takes one more sip and sets the glass down gently. “You are a dead thing Jane. Out of place in the world and nature hates you. You are a walking void. An illusion. Nothing but a blood craving monster with the memories of a girl.”

Throughout his speech his eyes never leave hers. They gaze into them not with the fiery passion of a zealot, but with the cold deadpan look of a man you has seen past the beauty the world has to offer and straight through to the rotten core of it all.

Dominique: “I was all of that.”

The sweetest source was there in her hand waiting. The same one that in the past she had spent an intense amount of time trying to ignore, deny and replace. He would have no idea what that was like. The pain, the discipline and the loss that came with all of it. It was hers to embrace and to never forget. She would not share it. Not with him.

[Trahir Trahison]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

Dominique: Jane’s fingers splayed just enough that the glass was cradled in the palm of her hand. Blood.The heady scent of fresh copper drowning in the silken liquid that was moving back and forth in thick, slow swirls within. It called to her in so many ways that focusing on one was nearly impossible. The hunger lined the layers of her flesh and scraped and clawed to the surface setting her on fire. While her body went up in flames her mouth watered for the comfort of what was in her hands to put out the growing heat. She was strong but she was in the end a vampire. The only difference between she and her current dining companion was the blood in her hands was still breathing into the air beneath her nose and lips. Her eyes lifted to find his.

“And then I died.” She attempted to swallow down what refused to leave the tip of her tongue. It was going to come out no matter how long she tried to hold on to it. “Unlike your description of what you think I am...that whole dead and void part. It took dying for me to feel anything at all. I was dead when Doc found me. A void, a waste to the life I had and those who had shared it with me. Out of his mercy, or desire for twisted vengeance, I was given a life I never deserved. And in that I discovered an appreciation for what I had taken for granted before and the power to grow in ways I never would have known otherwise. There is not a night I am not aware of what I am. So, you are wrong in that respect, Mr. Trahison. Dead and wrong.”

The glass moved beneath her nose and she pulled in the bouquet deep into her otherwise empty frozen lungs. There was a rush of anticipation that tickled her lips, her tongue and the line of gums stretched tightly over her teeth and recently sprouted fangs. It was already there in her hands why should it go to waste. With that the rim of the crystal wine glass met her parted lips and her eyes rolled back beneath their natural lids while her tongue was covered in the blood that flowed over it. All the explosions and rush humming through her veins was nearly disorienting and deafening. Still beneath his watch she stayed in her seat and she kept hold of the glass. She held on to it tighter than that humanity he claimed she kept clinging to. She knew what fueled her. It would appear he did not.

Trahir Trahison: He almost envied her that drink. Almost. He remembered his own first time. The experience diminished only by the memory of his first actual hunt. He had killed during his first hunt. Before that he had clung to the life he had lived as a human that he could no longer remember, going so far as to sire a total stranger and leave them to their own devices, unable to cope with what he had done. The memory is fresh though the reasons for the hesitation are gone, wiped away forever from his mind. Watching her Trahir almost wishes he could impart that power as a gift to her. He doubts she would be able to use it though.

Whatever she says, she is still a paladin within her mind and that needs to be drawn out, drained away like a buildup of pus, excised like the tumor it is within her persona. She clings to what was, what is gone. That will never allow her to be free.

“Hunt with me Jane. Tomorrow night. We will do it your way. You select the place, the vessel. I will merely watch and cover you in case someone walks by. Then you watch my back while I hunt.”

With that he picks up his drink, draining the contents and reaches over to the bottle to pour a fresh serving into the crystal glass.

Dominique: The shadow was savoring the lingering blood that clung to the inner walls of her mouth. She could not deny it’s overwhelming effects as she sat there. It likely was not well hidden either. If her complexion was healthy before then she was sure that she was wearing the heated blush that a well aged liquor should leave behind. She shifted her weight just enough hoping that would bring some coolness to her skin, to her body. His invitation to dinner had just brought about another. Again it was the same thing. To hunt. On her terms. She was to demonstrate she was no different than he and that she was a vampire. He wanted to watch? Was that what it would take to settle things and he would go on his merry way and she her own? Maybe she should have done so to begin with and perhaps that would have brought out a different outcome than the fact she would be walking home when the evening ended. Her car was gone, her employee which technically was her fault. Yes. She would hunt with him and settle it.

“I will.” Dominique had a different thought going through her head but for the moment her mouth accepted the invitation. “Tomorrow night then.”

The smile moved once again across her face while her eyes drifted from his to take in the moon glowing high above. She finished the blood that was in the wine glass and carefully set it down. the tips of her fingers tapped it gently away from her reach.

Trahir Trahison: “Excellent. I’ll have Mortll bring the car back then for tomorrow night. She has sat on the floor of the Groom Center far too long.” Trahir watches Jane with his peripheral vision as he mistakes the glass being pushed toward him as a need for a refill. One he gladly provides, draining the rest of the blood into the glass before her.

He knows Dominique was not at the auction house and banks that she has been much too busy lately to have bothered checking the results, dropping the name of her sire’s ex-wife of course is no mistake. He has been careful not to divulge any names of vampires he knows or is friendly with. He has left her but one source for information on him, Doc. He doubts the closed Shadow would impart any information about him unto Jane any more than he would unto Corentine about the good doctor himself. He just didn’t strike Trahir as the gossipy sort.

“What time would you like me to pick you up at and where will we be going?”

The option left to her is not just a method of making her comfortable with the idea of hunting, though that is an added perk to the Killer. More than that it will tell him what kind of hunt to expect, what type of situation they will be walking into and will allow him to scope the area out tonight for exits, escape routes, security issues and all the other little details he usually takes into account before frequenting a locale.

Trahir prefers very much to err on the side of caution if he has to err at all.

He scoops his own glass up once more and holds it out in a second toast with a smile. “To a fruitful and successful hunt on the ‘morrow.”

Dominique: As soon as Mortll’s name was dropped her eyes lifted from the glass. That was interesting. Her lips stayed closed as she eyed him quietly while he lifts the glass in his hand for a second toast. HOPE takes possession of the glass in front of her and raises it.

“Yes, to a successful hunt.”

It was the clinking of crystal that signaled she could count on her thirst of epic proportions getting sated enough until she was free to deal with it how she usually did. As for his chauffeur being the one and only Mortll...that was hardly any of her business. She smiled lightly just as the crystal kissed her lips. Again she was reminded how sweet the reward could be of taking in what was offered so generously.

“I can be ready when you are.” The fall months had some of her work slowing down. There was that and of course Nicolette in the shop upstairs doing what she did when she wasn’t licking Trahir’s boots or whatever it was she did on her off time. “I can meet you here. It isn’t an effort making it across the road.”

Trahir Trahison: Trahir gives a nod as he brings his glass to his lips, draining the glass entirely in one long drink and setting it off to the side. Here. at the farm. He goes over his plans in his mind for the next few days quickly and gives a slow nod. “That would work. Perfectly actually.” Truth be told he has already spoken with Mortll about bringing the car here to meet with him. “Shall we say ten o’clock? The night life should be picking up about then.”

He means this on all fronts of course. The drug trade in the slums, the bars, the clubs. Ten o’clock seems to be when everyone goes out to find their own brand of poison. It’s also enough time for him to have his initial meeting with Mortll prior to Jane’s arrival.He and Doc’s ex-wife have much to discuss setting up the schedule for the next three days.

Trahir plans on leaving the impression of the perfect gentleman vampire. Especially since the only other time he and Mortll interacted he slammed his dagger into her a few times. Best to try and put that little incident in the past.

He watches Dominique openly now, his eyes roaming over her in a way that can only be called appraising. Not that he has that ability. Trahir is about as interested in learning how to get into people’s minds and seeing their humdrum lives as he is interested in attending an elementary school to teach children how to do origami No, the look is something baser. It’s a man checking out a woman though much more openly than perhaps most men would be about it.

He asks once more, “Where will we be going?”

Dominique: Trahir wanted a destination in advance. This was turning out to be one of those outings that required an itinerary. She wondered how much he planned out everything else he did. This would be useful if she kept it in mind. Her bottom lip was pulled gently between the pinch of her teeth while she gave it some quick thought.

“Club of your choice. Bar perhaps?” Another lift of the glass had the blood sliding through her lips. “Unless you have a more suitable suggestion?”

Dominique was watching him closely while the glass in her hand made a return to her mouth. Each slow swallow gave her a little more time to absorb the reality that the one across from her was going to expect to hunt the next evening. She had done so many times. How much different could it be? A lot. Before she hunted their kind. Now she would be expected to hunt what she had spent a majority of her time as a paladin protecting.

The empty glass moved down and came to rest on the table. The dimples in her cheeks came through once again with her thoughts. She was ready. There was no question. In fact more than ready. Tomorrow she was going to do what she took great pleasure in. She was sure Trahir would not have any doubts on where she stood after the night was over.

Trahir Trahison: Rising from his chair, Trahir makes his way around the table, placing his hand on the back of Jane’s own seat to pull it away for her , a sign that he is ready to escort her back to her own residence. “A club or bar, I believe I know one that will suit our purposes. We’ll start with something fairly easy. I was told about a place before. I have only been there the one time for… other business, but I believe it will work for this.”

As she rises he pulls the chair out of her way, stepping back and gives her a small bow. “Thank you for attending. I enjoyed your company very much this evening.” In truth he is slightly relieved that she didn’t ask him anything about himself throughout the two glasses of blood. He is also pleased she didn’t enquire as to the source of the draught. He wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to stomach that tidbit of information. Not yet. Soon perhaps. He would have to see. He offers Jane his arm and sweeps his other one out toward the unpaved driveway leading out from the property. “May I walk you home then?”

Dominique: There was nothing to indicate that it would be out of line for him to offer or for her to accept. the night was fading and it was evident in the way her muscles felt the weakness gradually finding its way through her. She would leave the rest of the business she had planned on for tomorrow. there would be time then to get it accomplished before their hunting excursion in public.

“Yes, Trahir, you may. I believe you know where it is?” She slid her arm into his and looked up briefly then towards the direction they would be heading. “Should we come across any parts to the Mustang you get to carry them. Doc is rather upset with the loss. In fact he seems to be taking it harder than I did.”


Trahir Trahison: One eyebrow raised at the mention of the car. There would be no parts found. He had called a clean-up crew to remove any evidence of the explosion, parts included shortly after their altercation. He doesn’t mention that, feeling it best to let the subject drop for the moment. Instead of answering, he places his other hand lightly atop hers on his arm and pats it softly twice before leading her down off the porch and starting down the driveway with her. “What was it like? Being turned into the thing you were sworn to hunt and destroy?”

It’s not just a topic change. The Killer is curious. He doesn’t remember his human life at all but the lack of tattoos makes it glaringly apparent that he was not in the same boat as her. The things his knows how to do lends itself to sports, perhaps the medical professions. He couldn’t say. He hasn’t read back in his journal to find out. The book is back at the farmhouse at the moment but it would not remain there long. Trahir moves it around frequently. Contained within are some darker secrets. Secrets he doesn’t wish to see the light of day. The siring of his cast-aside childe is one of them.

Trahir follows what one of the games he has read about would call the “Three Traditions”. They serve as a good basis for what he considers acceptable vampiric behavior. In fact, had all of Harper Rocks vampires followed them the place would be in nowhere near the mess it is in now. Blood bags would be plentiful and cheap likely for all and the UFO scare would never have happened. He feels his anger rise within at the thought of the idiots running around with their human “friends”..

“It seems to me that it would leave one… conflicted.”

Dominique: “It was a rude awakening and pretty much the worst New Year’s Eve at the time that I could recall. As for becoming what I hunted. It was to be nothing short of everything that it was intended to be. Memorable. Not just the kind you think of such as a first surgery or hang over or the first time you got laid. It is more up there with a come to Jesus type experience. Any doubts that I had left about fangs existing or not was pretty much stomped into the ground much like my face.” She exhaled what night air was collecting in her lungs. “It wouldn’t have happened had I not made so many mistakes.”

Why she was divulging anything was beyond her but he asked and she had a more than a few yards of walking distance to cover before she was standing on her porch. It was an honest question and more than a few likely wondered the same thing that Trahir did

“I was, perhaps still am.”She shrugs as the porch finally comes to view on her gray stone farmhouse. “There is always a consequence to every action, a price to pay in the end.You have no choice but to be prepared to pay up.” She glanced upward then sent her focus back to the direction they were heading. “No one ever wins every battle.”

Trahir Trahison: The vampire nods his agreement at her assessment. That was nothing short of fact. No one is perfect. No one wins all the time. He himself had recently lost a critical one at a key juncture of his young start as a vampire. “No, but as an immortal you will want to pick those battles you fight carefully. You have more to lose now Jane. Not in so far as dying. Not here at least in the city. Not at the moment at least. But eternity is a long time to hold a grudge and I’m fairly certain we are equipped to do so.” Everything about the vampires he knows of so far is geared toward that end… eternity. The constant renewal of the body, the plethora of abilities to hide, heal, hunt… If only there wasn’t such a large group of mentally deficient predators attempting to throw it away for the entire populace.

He sighs at the thought. “I’m glad you decided to work with me on this. Truly. I was afraid after finding out you had been one of the hunters that you would end up one of the lemmings…”

Dominique: She wasn’t sure who was a lemming but she was certainly a hunter. Trahir would soon find out she hardly lacked in that skill. If anything she had mastered it. It just had been neglected recently. With every step closer to her porch she remembered each hunt. She could recall their names, their faces and so many she now found herself crossing paths with frequently. The same hesitation was in both human and vampire expressions even two years later. The vampire walking her home was not the only one.

“It will be a learning experience to be sure. For that alone it is worth it. Actions speak far louder than words, Trahir.” The step of her foot was higher as she found her body standing on the porch. “I appreciate your time in walking me across the road. It has been a pleasure of sorts.”

Trahir Trahison: With another bow the vampire smiles, and takes three steps backward from the porch. “It has been a pleasure Dominique. Rest well and I will see you tomorrow evening.” With that he turns and begins the trek back toward his own property. He hadn’t intended to sleep the day away at the farmhouse, instead having thought to take advantage of his crypt that night but the car would be arriving early the next evening and he was meeting Jane there anyway. It seems the logical choice.

His footsteps fall away from Jane as he departs, soundless as the Killer recedes into the night, lost in thought. His body is on auto-pilot and that means his gait becomes predatory, he doesn’t so much walk as he stalks away, an aura of danger and death created by his Path palpable as it emanates from him. As he fades away into the darkness so does it leaving Jane alone with her own thoughts.

[Dominique]

The pile of clothes on the floor at her feet made no sense at all. For one thing she tended to be neat. Maybe too much so. Second, why in the world she was changing in and out of clothing for the last two hours made even less sense. She never did this before. Why was she doing it now? Slowly her shoulders rolled back as her head leaned to the right to work out the kink that was forming in her neck. She was tense lately. That did make sense. There was a good reason for it. Trahir Trahison could be to blame for her having a mountain of material around her bare feet. If she could actually buy into the idea it left her without any responsibility for what had happened up until that point. Dominique Jane Doe had no clue yet but by the end of the night she would learn more about herself, her path and its future course than she had in the last two years.

Up to this point it had been a month from hell on many levels. Each one of course was easily reached on her effort alone. There was no one else who deserved the credit. Yes, even the conflict with the neighbor across the road was her own doing. She came upon him feeding and took it upon herself to critique his methods. From her point of view he was fortunate he still had his head on his shoulders.

Because of that Trahir expected her to demonstrate something different. Instead of getting to ride off on her high horse as she usually did she was called down and asked for her take on the act. It was to be action not her typical wordy sermon on the rights of everyone. Drawing human blood and drinking it. The very process she had managed to exclude herself from for the last two years of her immortality. As if she was an expert on sucking on veins. Dominique never bit anyone in her life. She didn’t even have a set of fangs until a few nights ago. The shadow assured herself that she wasn’t the first late bloomer and she would not be the last.

The conditions applicable to the evening were simple. Whether she followed them was entirely up to her. The part about him watching her back was of little value. She watched her own back and always had. She knew his type. Would she watch his? Only until someone bigger came up behind him and took issue with him. She smirked as she locked up Vita Bella. She was in no way obligated to save his *** and right now he had given her very little reason to remotely have the desire to do so.

To his credit the dark killer clarified that this planned hunt would not be about her destroying the prey. This was not to be about killing. Which was a relief. Not that she was incapable of killing. Quite the opposite.That had become as simple of task as bending over and tying her shoes. This proposed evening would be about her feeding. A practice she had not ever entertained since her turning. The knots of revulsion that previously formed in her hollow gut with the thought of sucking blood from any human source failed to present themselves. She noticed it while she picked up the pile of material around her and effectively returned it to where it belonged. The anger that would have been accompanying her movements as she slid into the garments was absent as well. Was this the whole process of the change completing. Her appetite stirred and this time it was not leaning towards ice cream and a deep meditation. This was raw, deep, reckless and wild. The scent and taste of Ben filled her as she breathed in to flood out the ache. Instantly it became stronger.

The steps down from the top floor of Vita Bella was her chosen route instead taking the elevator. Each one she left behind gave her extra time to think about what it would be like when she returned to them. It would happen eventually. If it wasn’t this night it would be another. The fangs had popped out and maybe it was one of those things if she didn’t do on her own terms it would be disastrous if left to it’s own devices. As for the neighbor due to arrive to pick her up at her farm. He was in for a lesson tonight as well. She was done with the games taking place. It was getting messy. So much so that it was reminding her every time she looked left or right more often than usual. She was beginning to believe that the lingering dull ache in each of her shoulders was a reminder to watch her back really close. Tonight all of it would come to an end. Lessons would be learned in blood.

Arriving to her farm she found the drive and grounds empty. It was perfect. She was hardly disappointed. It gave her the spare minutes needed before his due arrival to prepare the last of what needed to be done before she left. Two minutes. They counted down in her head as her hands went about the process of protecting her own back. Each action was a measure of security to assure that what she planned on was all that would be taking place. What Trahir had planned was inconsequential. After tonight their volatile time would be ending. Her existence would carry on without further issue and he would go about his future business dealings without interruption from her. Each got what they wanted and it was a golden win-win result for both. relief replaced her lingering hunger when her finger tapped the last entry and the followed it with the prompt to send.

The night air was fresh and sweet as it greeted her on the porch. These moments she could feel seeping into her skin and renewing her within. It brought with it a serenity that should never be compromised. A gentle breeze caressed her face as it lifted to the midnight sky to bathe in the moonlight. Soon the sounds of an engine would interrupt and take her away for an undetermined amount of time. The unexpected aroma of death soured her mind's attempt at relaxation as soon as headlights washed over the open gates of her drive. The night ahead was not to be about death but there was no mistaking that she sensed it coming closer in the air.

[Trahir Trahison]

Trahir Trahison: The big engine of the Rolls Royce was a comforting sound as Trahir turned it over, sitting a moment to let it warm up. The car would soon be garaged with the Canadian winter. The salt used on the roads was not antique-friendly and the young vampire didn't want to have any stains from the salt permeating the steel of the undercarriage of the old car. Once warmed up he backs the large vehicle out of the long driveway and onto the street. The drive is short to Dominique's farmhouse. As usual he rides in silence, no music the distract from the sounds of the car purring it's contentment at being out and about once more.

The automobile crosses the road and rolls to a stop at the end of her driveway before coming into view of the camera he has previously seen there.

Getting out Trahir makes him way on foot toward the farmhouse where Jane resides at least part time. In his hand is a remote control similar to the one he had used to arm the device under her Mustang that fateful night when she had decided to escalate their relationship from verbal and indirect attacks to a more physical platform differing only in that there is a bow stuck on it and a card taped to it. The thought of pushing the button on the remote does cross his mind but she has magnanimously agreed to hunt with him tonight and the thought of live prey outweighs the desire to see a fireworks display.

He wonders though if a vampire blown up would be able to reconstitute their body as quickly as one killed by blade or bullet. Now is not the time to experiment though. Perhaps later if she again decides to assault his person.

Seeing her already outside, Trahir nods in greeting to her and tips an imaginary hat. "Good evening ma'am. Are you ready to go to dinner?" He affects a southern drawl for the question an accent picked up in Florida during his time there.

He holds the remote out to her after greeting her. "I brought you a gift."

The card contains a slip of folded paper with the location of the explosive devices planted within her farmhouse. "I thought to bring flowers, but that seemed a little mundane. Instead I decided to give you this..."

Apparently the Killer has decided that this hunt will change the dynamics of their relationship. "I have decided each time we successfully hunt to return to you a piece of your life I had considered stripping away. The more vampiric you are, the more human you can continue to act. So long as you understand that it is indeed purely an act."

Megalomania in full swing Trahir waits for her to thank him for his generosity

[Dominique]

-Attire-

Dominique stood still with her feet planted in the same spot that they had been for at least five minutes if not more. The impressive silver Rolls Royce purred to into a slow stop while wide chocolate orbs watched closely. The tall figure of Trahir Trahison slowly unfolded from the round drivers side door. It was as if she was watching one of those black and white movies that helped her get through the endless nights at the crafting table. She didn’t blink in case she would miss what would happen next.

The flow of a large hand to tip a hat that was not there distracted the shadow only briefly before the subtle nod grabbed her attention to signal that he had arrived. All six feet and two inches to spare of the killer was form fitted into a blue on black suit with the shock of a brilliant blood red tie and handkerchief to match. Surely these touches were in place to distract, impress or even perhaps clean up with. She kept her eyes on him and decided the accessories were to serve all three purposes.

HOPE and LESS curled around the silver silk lapels of her glove tight suit jacket that covered the bare inked skin beneath it. There was nothing else to worry about for that matter. She gave up putting on anything other than the jacket and the matching pants which was what the eyes could see. Screw him if he didn’t like it. It was not about him anyways. It was about her. What she was planning to do was what would happen and that was set in stone down to the clothing on her body. He could have a chorus girl line kicking their heels up and swinging out of the Phantom behind him and it still didn’t change a thing. She was calling the shots. Just as she was all confident and full of attitude he reveals a gift extending between them in his hand.

A gift? Did she really hear him right? Trahir was attempting to hand her something so she must be. Her fingers loosen their hold and brush down the front of her jacket until the tips hit the cool inked midriff where the jacket ends. Were her eyes resting their sights on a remote? Her right hand took it slowly and her brow raised. What the hell was he up to now? Her eyes lifted to land on him while her finger flips up the small thank you card attached to the remote.

“You are full of surprises, Trahir.”

Yes, he certainly was. Just when she was ready to find a way to dismiss him he did the unexpected and gave her some odd reason to second guess his motives. That was until she glanced back down to find the information within the card was none other than a map that appeared to be of her farmhouse and with the way it was marked it was evident explosives had been placed in her farmhouse. The cardstock flipped back down and she didn't blink while keeping her eyes locked on him. Her jaw tightened and her eyes all but erupted into dark flames. Flowers was something he was not a fan of. The gift in her hands was a start of more to come. He was going to 'give back' parts of her life he had 'taken away' if...IF she acted according to his expectations.

“Are you ******* kidding me?” She felt the sharp tone in her words as they left her lips. He was about to have his hands full. "Follow me."

The fired up shadow didn't wait for an answer to the question or the demand he follow her. Of course he was serious. And so was she. She spun on her heels and left the door open behind her as she marched into the house towards the spot he was so thoughtful to map out for her.

[Trahir Trahison]

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"
Trahir Trahison: The invitation was half-expected, entirely hoped for. He was pleased he didn’t have to try and finagle one out of her with him standing in the doorway. That never seemed to work. He’d had to burn down a house before to flush out a woman who had caught onto him somehow. It had ended up that woman had been a hunter in the making and Trahir had been a target. She’d left him standing at the door unable to enter just watching him with a know-it-all grin. He didn’t know how the woman had come across his identity but had a nagging suspicion that it had been due to a careless act during a hunt previously. A hunt on one of his own kind.

He had thrown her back into the fire as she tried to flee from it. Twice.

He follows Jane silently into the farmhouse, admiring her choice of garb for the evening, pleasantly surprised, yet his senses alert for any signs of impending violence. “Nice place you have here for yourself Jane. Good feng shui.”

Dominique: While Trahir was checking out the decor Dominique was all but ignoring him and locating the stockpile of explosives he accurately mapped. She eyed it, knelt down then stood back up. Her eyes shot directly at him and she felt the sharp points behind her lips pierce her tongue as it rolled to deliver her words.

“Take it out now!” She held on to the remote and gave him an expression that said she was in no way open to negotiation. “You have only seconds to spare.”

Trahir Trahison: His head tilts to the side, cat-like in it’s motion. “That ~is~ why I followed you in dear. I want to help remove the threat to your property and person. They are actually quite harmless if you don’t push that button.” He points to a button with a safety cover over it on the remote. “Come, let’s take the toys out together and then go hunt. I’m beginning to thirst.”

Dominique: Looks at him as if at any moment there will be something that will jump out and tell her this was just a really bizarre joke and she was supposed to laugh. She knew what the hell to do and not to do. She was going to introduce him to a few reasons to not push anymore of her buttons. He was doing it and it was starting to wear on her thinning patience.

“How in the **** did you get into my house, put explosives in it and get back out?”

Not like it took a rocket scientist to pull off what he did. Dominique was all too was capable of the very same thing.She just wanted to hear him give his version and more importantly why he did it. And if he thought for one minute she was going to help carry a damn thing he was more disturbed than she first thought. He was going to haul it out and put it in his car and drive it back wherever it came from. If he didn’t he was going to find his place going sky high just like Doc’s did.

“I am serious as a ******* heart attack.” Dominique watched him and waited for an answer. “Just what in the hell were you thinking?”

Trahir Trahison: “Language Jane. I don’t like ladies swearing like soldiers while out on a dinner date with me.” His eyes turn to lock with hers. “Rephrase all of that.”

Dominique: Her lips didn’t close. She blinked and pretty much was trying to figure out if he took himself as seriously as he sounded. In her home no less.

“I am a motherfucking soldier and this is my god damned motherfucking fort. That ******* clear enough for you, ***********?!"

Trahir Trahison: The slap is lightning fast. He doesn’t blink as his hand lashes out and the blow is upturned so as to be more of a bludgeoning than a stinging blow. He doesn’t, after all wish to smear her make-up. It looks at though a lot of effort went into it. His palm slams into her temple above the hairline hard enough to kill a mortal.

“Language Jane.”

Obviously she doesn’t feel like communicating with her words. He doesn’t know sign language. Hopefully actions suffice.

Dominique: The movement was totally unexpected. Why her face stung and she was standing there dumbfounded lasted only for the blink of her eyes which was lighting quick. Something stirred in her and she was a blur of motion as HOPE went right for his throat.

Trahir Trahison: Lessons. The night appeared to be full of them. He makes no motion at all to stop her hand. In his view, he had no reason to. He didn’t have mortal memories of needing oxygen, breathing was for talking and she hadn’t responded to talking. Instead he lets her distract herself going for his throat and repeats the gesture he made earlier, slapping the taste out of her mouth for a second time.

“Never choke a vampire, it’s pointless,” he intones in a deadpan voice as his hand finds her face. He figures the makeup will definitely need to be redone before they leave.

Dominique: The moment her cheek burns HOPE and LESS grab him by the lapels of his jacket and give him a lift towards the wall. Inside she felt a rage unlike she had in so long. It was her home, her face and he had overstepped his boundaries all over. It was done. He was going to feel it.

“Don’t you ever put a hand on me again!” Her hand curled up and went back then shot forward gunning right for his face.

Trahir Trahison: The blow as as good as he’s ever gotten. Had he been human it might have send him unconscious, maybe even killed him. It slammed his head backward into the wall he was braced against and drywall crumbles as the back of his head crashes through it.

The damage, he decides is nothing to worry about. Yet. He dangles in Jane’s grip, looking from one lapel to the other. “Are you sure you want to destroy this suit ~before~ dinner?”

[Dominique]

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"
Dominique: She felt like crawling out of her skin. It was too tight and too restrictive. There wasn’t enough room for her in there anymore. The rage within, the inability to control it anymore was out of her comfort zone. He brought her to this point. If she had seams holding her together they were quickly stretching to the point of breaking.

HOPE and LESS shoved him roughly back into the surface behind him then gave up their hold. She shook her head quickly to the right and released a slow, low growl that felt like it started at her toes and now was coursing through her entire body. She moved quickly leaving him there standing. The faster she moved the easier it became to clear distance between them. She had to.

Running had been the one way to bring everything that was fraying back together but this time it was different. The air moved with her until she felt as if she was becoming too much for it to keep up with and evading it as well. The burn of her muscles continued to pull beyond their usual range and with it her bones popped and began the first process of elongating. While she moved something took over. Whatever it was it had claimed Dominique in a fluid like shift and was now in a full sprint back to the farm house. With a loud roar of warning she lunged into the space he stood and went for his throat.

Trahir Trahison: Trahir knew that roar. He was born where it sounded out over the plains and in the forested areas to the north. He mind processed the fact and unlike a human in the same situation… his mind didn’t simply shut down in disbelief and fear. Lion. Angry lion.

The series of thoughts that roll through his mind faster than a bullet train are: Don’t play dead. Strike the nose, the eyes, the ears. Protect your throat, that is the killing bite.His arm comes up as the shape barrels through the door and toward him. Perhaps the arm saves his unlife. The bite force of the lioness Dominique has become would undoubtedly be enough to crush vertebrae and then… the bloodlust having taken over she would not stop if she wanted to. Not that Trahir attributed the desire to leave him alive to her at that moment.

His arm is instantly turned into a wrecked version of what it was and his other hand beats frantically at the sensitive areas, eyes, nose, ears. Female lions, lionesses weigh between 110 and 180 kilograms. Even at 250 lbs of solid muscle he was outweighed by all but the smallest of them. Add in the claws and fangs that dwarfed his own and Trahir was in trouble.

The killer realizes the danger he is in. He knows he can not fend her off in this form for long and that she has snapped. The Darkness holds her in its sway. He considers shifting into his crocodile form briefly, but there is no room for the lumbering lizard in the hallway. He would be trapping himself in as surely as if he were to purposely step in a bear trap.

Without a plan of action he too roars, the sound inhumanly deep, a primal snarl that he recognizes as surely as he had Dominiques a moment earlier.

His shift is less surprising to him once started. He’s familiar with the process and manages his own on the fly. He lunges forward and comes to a sliding stop before her, his own form having changed and before the lioness stands not a 250 lbs man, but a 250 kg lion.

Dominique: The pounding of the flesh fist into her eyes and nose did not hurt and for all the effort used proved to be a minor deterrent at best. Another roar was followed by a sharp snap of lethal jaws. Once more a powerful impact of a knuckled flesh ball caught her in the eye. Massive paws and claws struck out in front of her that went where her hands should have been. She shook her head in confusion and saw fur. Everywhere she looked it covered her.

What happened? On all fours she moved feeling the power of each step she took to stalking slowly in a large perimeter. Her mind worked to absorb the change. Continuously she was on the move in as much of a predatory circle as she could going in one room and back out. The spacious farmhouse interior became a confined maze that narrowed inconveniently in the halls.The sound of a low growl vibrated from deep within and continued as she cleared the rear portion of the back rooms. Finding nothing as she expected she made her way back to where Trahir last was. She was angry before. Now she was that and so much more.

Hunger was shoved to the front of her senses slamming into her and leaving no choice to become acutely aware of everything around her and within her. It was relentless. One that was unlike anything present before and it was calling to her beneath her skin, under the thick fur that layered her and it would not be ignored.

The colors of the gray stone interior took on the surprising hues of blues and greens as she followed the scent that was stronger than ever before. It was that unmistakable sweet marker he carried that demanded her to rise to a level of alertness she had never known before. A loud thunderous roar had her snap around to find what certainly matched the warning but was the last thing she expected to see. Into her space slid a lion of considerable size landing in a dead stop. Slightly she lowered her body a little closer to the ground in preparation. The moment was all too brief.

The new arrival dwarfed her own sense of current proportion and she was not comfortable with it at all. The beast was massive enough that she moved to the side as she lifted back up to stand solid while her head began lowering and her eyes set on the one who came into the fight at hand. She could taste the presence of him as she stood and watched him waiting. Part of her was hoping he would dare to challenge her. The other part was ready to run and satisfy the needs that could not be sated within the walls that currently were around her.