From the Pinnacle to the Pit [invite]

[Emeritus (DELETED 4718)]

music

The Allurist had long since lost himself in his self induced coma of anger and loss. His attitude and actions had guided him down a path to which he saw no escape and though the consequences were inflected by himself he would suffer them for eternity. For months he allowed himself to be consumed by his darkness, his mind shattering into a thousand tiny pieces, only to be reassembled into a new a man, a new monster.

He would spend weeks at a time lost in thought, forcing himself to starve, to bring the pain he felt inside in equilibrium with what he felt physically. Long had he clung to the loss of all that he had held dear, long had he forced himself to relive every moment that led him to where he was now. From his life of luxury in his Swiss homeland to the darkness afforded him by the crypt. The once lavishly adorned Allurist now found himself only in the torn fabrics he had taken from the dead, stitched together in some makeshift monk robe; but everything he lost, all of his pain, he was never given to sadness, only a new sense of motivation. Though he hid from the world he did not fear it, he only needed to reevaluate the essence of who he was. When it was finally his time to rise the world would see a new side of the man who called himself Emeritus; no longer would he give in to petty weakness, he had already lost everything that meant anything to him, what else could be taken? Where he was once an overtly arrogant, proud man he now stood only as a shadow of his former self. He had embraced the darkness to the point where there was no separation from flesh and blood to pain and torment.
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It wasn’t long ago that he had escaped the misery of the shadow realm, that cold, dark, mind shattering haven of vampiric souls. He had never known an isolation to match what he had felt for months in that depressing sanctuary of the damned. The reasons he had sent himself to that forsaken pit would remain his own; the torture he had virtually begged for through his actions had, unsurprisingly, overwhelmed him. But he had not found the peaceful bliss he had expected, it was not his first trip to the land of the dead but never before had he been lost there for so long. The torment that rained down upon him in the realm had left deep scars, scars that once he would have sought to cure but now he would wear them like badges of honor. All of those agonized cries of torment from other lost souls would forever ring in his ears like beautiful music, the nightmares that haunted his every second in the pit were now works of art in his mind. After a few months of enduring all the hopelessness, anguish, despair, and pain the realm had to offer he found and taken his opportunity to escape, to emerge as a man lost in his surroundings.

Physically the Allurist had found himself in one of the refrigerators used to store bodies in the morgue owned by his sire, Velveteen, but his mind remained fixated on the realm he had left behind. Stumbling through the mortuary his ears could still hear those lost souls crying out for mercy forcing him to inadvertently ignore the attendant that had asked him if he needed help. His naked flesh felt almost surreal, as if the body that had regenerated was not his own. Slowly, he raked his nails along his arm, over his chest, sliding his fingers across his face, he could feel the muscles tighten under the pale, smooth skin but it was like examining a body he did not know. He was a ghost, a ghost that had become corporeal and had no idea what to do with what he had been given. Though he could feel the cold air brush every inch of his naked body, it did not cause him any sensation; it was not as if he had never been alive, or at least something that resembled life, but he had been away from this plane of existence so long that it was like he was a newborn. Grabbing the only garments he could find within the morgue, a set of white scrubs, he dressed quickly, the voice of the morgue attendant still seemed a distant echo but Emeritus needed the silence, he needed to collect his thoughts and figure out what he needed to do. He turned to face the woman, her expression that of someone who obviously liked what she saw, and gave her a small grin, his eyes looking deep into her own “there is a beauty in silence, you will embrace that.” Instantly the woman stopped talking, only lingering and eyeing the Allurist as though he was the only thing she could see. He dressed slowly, feeling the woman’s eyes taking him in but it was no different than an observant fly on the wall; once he was fully dressed he took a seat at one of the desks and thought of what to do next.

Of course the only thing that made sense was to return to Pandemonium, the hotel that seemed to house all of his Andras family. “Get me a cigarette if you would be so kind.” he whispered to the still lingering attendant, who without hesitation pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and handing it to him “you are a lifesaver dear.” Lighting the cigarette, he concentrated, letting those constant screams of spirits lost to the mortal realm subside to a whisper so that his thoughts were at the forefront. Andras, the family he once held so dearly, now felt like familiar faces among a lot of strangers. His undying, unwavering devotion to his creator, Velveteen, given to him as soon as she had given him her blood remained just that. He could feel it, in this body that was both foreign and familiar still burned to bring her pride. There was Micah, a man that had both supported and taught him the craft of rituals that would become his obsession. But what was he to these beings of immense power and worse, what were they to him. In this bag of bones and blood, binding the darkness of his being into one solid form, he felt the essence of those connections lost. His mind was quickly made up to seek them out, if for no other reason it would serve as a justification to the loneliness with which he now blanketed himself.

As the remaining embers of the cigarette were crushed out in the glass ashtray on the desk he felt his first overwhelming urge for blood, it had been months since he had tasted the bitter copper tinge that was the life essence of his species and now the need consumed him. The assistant that remained gazing at the Allurist would be the perfect specimen to fulfill his newfound desire. His head turned to face her, his emerald eyes fixating on the woman that stood leaning against the metal lockers. She was beautiful in her own way, tall and thin, with crimson red hair, surrounding her pale, freckled skin in waves of soft flame, her rich brown eyes focusing only on the entrancing man that sat before her. The woman saw only a man, perhaps she knew what he was, perhaps she didn’t, but she could not see through the visage to the dark shadow underneath, she could not see the rage, the despair, the isolation that coursed through his veins. “Come to me” he whispered, his voice nearly inaudible as he rose from the chair. Without hesitation she obeyed, embracing him as he extended his arms, blind to the fate that she so eagerly accepted. Emeritus wasted no time on the rituals he once enjoyed while feeding, his teeth instantly sinking into the throbbing jugular that called out to him. Her blood was rich, his mouth flooding with the thick, warm liquid, sending ripples through every fiber of his body; the sensations were intense but short lived, as quickly as the flood came it had dispersed, but he needed more, the hand that so gently supported her neck now squeezed so hard he felt the bones shatter within his grip, the arm that had fastened around her waist breaking the bones of her spine. To him she was nothing more than a juice box and he would squeeze every last drop that he could get from her. When he pulled away, his fangs slowly receding, he continued to hold the corpse, he would not leave an unnecessary mess. Removing the white uniform now stained with droplets of blood he first disposed of the clothing in the furnace reserved for cremations before placing the pale, lifeless woman in the sliding refrigerator he himself had awoken only moments before, closing her eyelids before shutting the slab back in it’s place. Hopefully she found the peace that he could only dream of.

Stepping out of the morgue and into the streets he was slightly taken aback by the openness. All his time in the realm he was closed in, as if there invisible walls constantly closing in on him, there was silence he had long forgotten, despite the scream of spirits he felt a sensation he could only call peace. His eyes drifted upward to the stars, the darkness of the sky, the warm night air rushing over his skin and through his hair, he knew he should feel relief, grateful to again be in the mortal realm but he was no longer a part of this world. In his soul he wanted to blanket this city in his darkness, he wanted everyone to know the torment that embodied him, to spread his rage to every living and undead being that called this city home. “In due time” he muttered to himself, he had become something far too large to be contained within one measly sack of flesh. Opening the tome that would bring him to Pandemonium he read the words aloud, there was a fleeting moment that his form dissipated but before he could enjoy the sensation he found himself in the lobby of the elegant hotel.

Emeritus stood for a moment, his eyes taking in the beautiful patterns of the floor, the pristine architecture was impeccable. Never did he expect to see this place again, part of him wanted to weep at the splendor, that after enduring months of cold isolation, only tormented spirits around him, he again stood in a place that was full of pleasant memories. Though the vampires that went about their business around him seemed peaceful he felt nothing, the memories that struggled to make their way to the surface, to remind him he was connected to these creatures, were crushed by his looming darkness. Making his way to the room that was claimed by his name, his fingertips gently tracing over the polished woods and soft fabrics, he stopped when he reached the door. “What am I doing” the thought racing through his head “you have no place here, even the ones that share your blood are not your own” it was not his voice uttering the words but he knew them to be true. He needed to say goodbye to Pandemonium, he needed to say goodbye to all these things that existed in his world a lifetime ago. It was his doing that created this loss, there was no one to blame, no score that could be settled, he, Emeritus, had all but begged to lose everything. Closing his eyes for a moment, flashes of the nightmares that took every second of his months in the shadow realm had made his path clear. He stepped into one of the fadeportals and left his past life behind him, exactly where he knew it belonged, in the past.

Taking the train to Cherry Dale station, he felt invisible on the train; the warm bodies of humans that were all around him was meaningless. He fought hard to just kill them all, he knew clearly what they did not, their existence was meaningless, they were nothing, deep down they were exactly like him, emptiness blanketed in flesh and bone. When at last he had reached his destination he instinctively made his way to the old town graveyard, he would find his haven within one of the crypts, he would be away from the world and the world would be away from him.
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Emeritus continued his twisted version of meditation within the crypt he had made his home, sitting quietly in the center of damp, dark, and cold room, surrounded by the remains of the long dead. Where normally one would seek peace through their meditations, the Allurist focused only on his misery, the silence sought by others replaced by the cries of the spirits that to this day continued to ring loudly in his ears, he embraced the visions of the nightmares he had endured, in fact he had painted these visions onto every wall and free space within the crypt. He wanted to be reminded constantly of what he had become. No longer was he bound to weakness, no longer was he bound to pleasing others; in his physical form he was a vampire, a taker of life, a monster that haunted the night, the darkness that had overtaken what could be considered a soul had opened his eyes. He would not limit himself to pleasing anyone but himself, it had given him a purpose he had sought since his creation and he fulfill that purpose, he would live up to his potential.

Rising from his meditation he made his way slowly, his body thin and weak from his fasting, to his altar, his practice in rituals one of the few things that remained from his former life. Taking a seat before the altar he removed the required ingredients that would guide him to his prey. Tonight he would bring death and that death would befall one of his most hated adversaries, a sorcerer. Conjuring his demi-fae he was quick to gain exactly what he sought, he had the location of his target. The darkness within seemed to boil, his rage would find release, his anguish would be bestowed upon another, and his pain would bring him satisfaction. Bringing himself to his feet, the demi-fae disappearing in a quick burst of flame, the vampire slid one of the stone coffin lids, revealing his cache of weapons, removing a single pistol and a small dagger, both with hilt and handle engraved with the faces of tortured beings, hiding them with the confines of his black ragged robe. Before the Allurist would be capable of posing any real threat he would first need to feed, it had been five days since he had tasted blood and his body was far beyond just craving a meal.

The rain was the first thing that greeted him as he stepped into the crisp night air. His bare feet sinking slightly into the muddy soil, as soon as he exited the crypt his mood had shifted to that of a predator. Though his body was too weak to venture very quickly he was still able to move at a decent pace. Nearing the streets populated by his prey going about their nightly business, movies, dinners, romantic evenings, he was eager to be the menace, eager to bring darkness into at least one other soul. As he walked the streets a few humans were quick to offer him money or to buy him meal, his appearance that of a homeless man in need but he rejected these false attempts at kindness, he needed the right one to come along. His ears soon picked up the sounds of a subtle drug deal taking place behind one of the local dive bars and immediately his course was set.
“Ex, Excuse me” his voice a harsh whisper “I, I was wondering if you had something for me” playing the role of a man in need of some toxic narcotic had become one of the many games he had learned to play.
“What do you need man? Do you even have the money bro?” the man was no gangster, more like some spoiled little rich kid looking for a bit of excitement in his life.
Emeritus pulled a small wad of cash from one of his many pockets and, with his hand intentionally quivering to fit the show, offered it to the young man. The dealer gave a quick glance to make sure the two were not being watched and reached his hand into his pocket to grab one of his baggies. In an instant the vampire had seized the man, his glimmering emerald eyes breaking through the young man’s “feel your pain” the anger seething through clinched teeth and tightening lips. The man cried out in anguish as the vampire filled his mind with the worst images the dealer could fathom, satiated by the human’s agony he forced his victim to the ground and tore into the throat extended by the fear breaking the human’s mind, the man fought hard against the invisible attackers that surrounded him. In no time the body had grown still, drained of as much blood as it could offer, the vampire took back the cash he had handed over and, straightening himself left the body where it lay.

The blood was quickly being absorbed by his eager cells, his body quickly looking healthy, his strength returning. His attack did not seem to draw any attention or if anyone had noticed they were smart enough to leave quickly and not intervene. Returning to the task at hand, Emeritus was now ready to deal with his sorcerer. The location that the demi-fae had given him was in one of the local parks, so the man would be out in the open; knowing sorcerers the man was probably performing cheap tricks for cash, they always wasted what little talent they had and he would find a temporary satisfaction in removing this man from this realm.

Just as he had suspected, when the vampire had found the park there he was, a golden skinned man with short black hair, adorned in the clothing and jewelry of some gypsy or circus performer was performing his magics with an open guitar case for donations. Making his way slowly into the small crowd he allowed his voice to enter the performer’s mind “your cheap tricks will not save your life sorcerer.” Instantly the small balls of flame that he had been juggling disappeared, getting a round of applause and donations from the entertained crowd, but the sorcerer himself was looking more than concerned as his eyes scanned the crowd. The man’s eyes stopped as he spotted Emeritus, the fear was apparent but he doubted the vampire would be brave enough to attack him openly. Making his way through the crowd, Emeritus now stood directly in front of the sorcerer, quickly turning to face the gathering of no more than ten “ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention” his voice instantly that of a man in control “you have come to this man to be entertained?” The gathering quickly applauding “allow me” he gave a subtle menacing grin to the sorcerer before his focus again on the humans “to show you some real magic!” He laughed in a non menacing fashion, seemingly taking control of his audience. His eyes looking deep into each member individually, his voice now becoming softer, more gentle, his words coming slow and heavy “I will need your full attention, I will need you” again he gave the sorcerer, seemingly frozen in fear, a sly grin “to beat this man to death!” The sorcerer turned to flee but the small group quickly had the man surrounded, their faces with blank expressions as the punched, kicked, and stomped the man. The vampire again spoke directly into his victim’s mind “who, who will save you now? You are alone, worthless. Can you feel the darkness coming?”

At the sound of sirens the Allurist took his cue to leave, laughing to himself as the small crowd continued to pummel the man to death. As he reached a tree on the outskirts of the park he paused to look back, smiling as he saw the sorcerer lying there, lifeless, blood dripping from his nose, ears, and lips. Rarely had he attempted to control a group of humans to do his bidding but the crowd was small enough and their minds had already been loosened by cheap magic tricks and now not only did one individual lay dead, but a small group of humans would bear that guilt for the rest of their lives, men, women, and even a few children had all become murderers and there was nothing they would ever be able to do to change that. He had shared his darkness in death and anguish, he felt that temporary satisfaction wash over him like warm water; another soul to writhe in agony in death and a group of humans forever burdened, he would hold that satisfaction the entire journey back to his crypt.

[Dominique]

Emeritus: The Allurist circled the ritual altar slowly, his fingers lightly grazing along the dusty stone. Though he had already adorned the walls with paintings of the torment that haunted his vision every time his eyes closed, he had not yet taken the time to set up his ceremonial area. Wiping the dust from the altar he removed the candles he had purchased the previous evening, lighting each as he sat them in their stone holders. When at last the altar was complete, adorned with candles and figurines representing the darker gods Emeritus took a moment to make sure everything looked exactly as it should.

With only the faint, flickering glow of the few candles that burned he pulled the soiled black hood of his robe low over his head, his ventures into the outside world always reminded him that he needed to strengthen himself in the Darkness. He folded his legs and arms, closing his eyes, he allowed that Darkness to consume him in meditation. The burning images of tortured, lost souls writhing in agony filled his vision, taking him back to the void, the cries of those souls filling his ears as though the crypt itself had become a chamber hall. Through this chaotic trance Emeritus found himself at peace, the pain seemingly soothing his mind, clearing his mind and opening the path he now walked.

Dominique: The night had been rather uneventful. Three cars were delivered and two more were picked up for work at the garage. An overstock in traps that weren't picked up left the shadow swinging by each of her properties to update the security systems with her recent improvements. If they were sitting and not used it meant she sat on her *** for the better part of a night for nothing. Not that it would be a first but still...

Once Vita Bella and Twisted Sister Custom and Design were set up with what was needed Dominique made her way through Old Town Graveyard. She invested in a crypt and had every intention of using it but no matter how hard she tried the whole canning herself up in a coffin like a sardine just didn't cut it. Nothing beat the wealth of down and high count white cotton wrapped around her like a cloud. Small things such as that were like stolen pieces of comfort that she still held on to. It didn't really matter how long she left it without routine use. She still might as well update the security system so that it would be in sync with the others.

Once the door opened she stepped inside like any other time she stopped by. The unexpected and limited glow of light took her attention to the far corners of the massive main room but failed to pull her further in to investigate the source. She ignored the unlit candelabras that she passed making her way to where the camera was installed. A few people were aware of the crypt, her sire being one. Perhaps he had been by which left her wondering why she didn't get the alert and why the flickering light was still going if he had.

The simple work of pulling a new camera from the black canvas bag and taking down the one she had intended on replacing was interrupted. Her eyes took a slow inventory of the walls around her and it was then that she noticed art work. The images certainly looked familiar thanks to her frequent trips to shadow realm. Her hand raised the security camera she had removed and looked it over.

“What the hell?” HOPE gave the camera a shake until it rattled. “Obviously you took a **** a while ago.”

The trap was tossed into the black canvas bag hanging over her shoulder and the new camera was secured in place. Once she was satisfied it was working she stepped over to the first of several paintings and looked it over.

Emeritus: His mind danced with the sweet music provided to him by the familiar cries of the souls, but his trance was quickly and unexpectedly disturbed by the slow shifting of the stone door as his crypt was opened. Though he remained motionless, not willing to relinquish his meditations, he let his mind reach out to the newcomer, a woman, a vampire, focusing on the artwork he had left upon the walls, and a name, Dominique. She had not yet fully caught his presence and he did not feel her enough of a threat to break away from the torment he so lovingly embraced, but he was not going to be one caught off guard.

Calling out to the tiny creatures that loomed in the dark, feasting upon the carrion so easily accessible within the chamber, he was soon surrounded by the insects. The flies and gnats buzzing around him, the beetles and roaches circling the robed figure, crawling over the thin, ripped fabric, across his face and what little of his skin that remained exposed. As the minutes ticked by the Allurist felt himself growing uncomfortable with sharing his chamber of isolation with another, he would gain her attention and seek out why she seemed to insist on disrupting his connection to the Darkness. With his voice deep and cold he began to fill the crypt with a song.

Dominique, nique, Nique s’en allait tout simplement Routier pauvre et chantant

Though he remained motionless his attention was now on the woman in his midst, his head had lifted only slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes. He continued to echo the words of he sang for her, it was a small play at power, to control the situation he would not come to her, no he would fill her with the need to approach him first.

Dominique: The art in her hand certainly had its merits, not that she was a qualified critic. Because she was not. However, she was able to verify that the images were disturbingly accurate. Shadow realm. She could feel the loss of power as she knew it, the lack of freedom and the isolation. It didn't end there.

The artist captured what otherwise had been only appreciated by being there.The howls of torment, the banished and deprived. It was worse than any hell she had heard her grandmother speak of. One trip was enough...she had at least five from what she could remember. A shiver went up her spine and she quickly set down the canvas. Did she hear buzzing sounds? Where was that singing coming from? A small annoyance breezed across her face nipping her flesh sharply as it did.

”Hello?” She stepped towards the direction the singing was coming from. Another bite was delivered to the back of her neck which she swatted hard. “You got two seconds to…”

Now a presence of another was clear. So there was someone inside the crypt after all. Another bite found her shoulder and she slapped her open hand hard against it in response.

“Nice artwork but the museum is a few blocks east. You are in the wrong place.”

Her feet took her closer. She was used to all types of eccentric dead, semi-dead and undead. The rags to no riches robe was a bit of a surprise but times were tough all over. When you are stripped of everything you have to your name, and she had certainly been there herself a time or two, you make do with you have. Dominique was not about to be a fashion critic. She left that up to Lennox and she was pretty sure the blonde would surely get a kick out of the guy she was dealing with.

Was that her name he was singing?

”Look, there seems to be a…” The buzzing was insanely loud and enough so that the song was beneath the warning of what was flying around her. She could feel the air shifting from the bugs making it nearly impossible to move without feeling an offender as she did. Another biter was swatted hard on her thigh.”Can’t you feel that?!”

Emeritus: His singing only stopped when she had come fairly close. “What exactly do you hope to find in my tomb” he paused, his back and face still turned away from her “Dominique?” Rising first to his knees, he bowed to the deities adorning the ritual altar before rising to his feet. Keeping his back turned his voice still low and gravelly “of course I feel the insects” there was no need to read her mind to know exactly what she spoke of “they are a part of my sanctuary.”

At last he turned to face Dominique, beneath the black robes and the insects that crawled upon his skin and buzzing around him like some visible, foul representation of his aura, the only thing he clearly presented to her was the radiant emerald green eyes. His hands remained folded within the confines of the robe, taking in the sight that stood before him; she was beautiful, he would give her that, the long, flowing brown hair, the large brown eyes, could not have been older than her early twenties, adorned in the cheap garments of any typical “rock n roll” kid. Again his mind looked into the one that stood before him, a rather menacing grin creasing the face revealed to painted to resemble a skull in black and white as he removed the hood, the insects still swarming his face.. “Interesting” his voice sounding almost as though it was made of ice “a paladin has become what she should be hunting?” He laughed.

Dominique: She was grabbing for the strap to the canvas bag on her shoulder and tugging it off. Once it dropped to the broken stone beneath her feet she pulled out the owner's manual to the VW Bug waiting back in the garage for her. A quick roll of the thick pages within the cover and HOPE was swinging like she was up to bat and expected to hit a grand slam.

What did she expect to find in HER tomb?! Paladin?! Yes, that touched a nerve.

“Okay, we have a failure to communicate…” She gets a few whacks at the air in before realizing she was feeling a bit weaker for the effort. “I didn’t get your name but you know mine. I hate to break this to you but your sanctuary obviously must be elsewhere. This is…” She growled. The bugs were insane.”**** it. Listen. This is my place, alright.”

Now that she turned again while the air was clear she found the male taller than her and wearing the black and white skull make-up. She missed the warm blood if there was any to be found. A vampire was pretty easy to pick up on and one who had a thing for carrying around his shadow realm reflective art and squatting in places that were not his. The vampire would likely would be better off at Doc’s nun infested nuthouse. She eyes him slowly while swatting the bugs that thicken the air with their incessant buzzing.

“I am guessing you know that Halloween is over.” The snap of countless pages of paper rolled up hit her in the chest. Petite colorful fingers flicked off the insect remains that were sticking to the front of her shirt. “So, back to the point of this being my place and you and…”Swats the side of her arm. “Your little buddies bringing in your traveling art show. I get where you have been, trust me. But coming into places that aren’t yours is asking for trouble. You are lucky I am nice.”

Dominique waited for a response. She really isn't feeling like hurting the guy, yet. Ever the optimist she figures perhaps he is down on his luck, confused as **** or nuttier than a squirrel on the last clear day before winter. Hell, the city was full of nut jobs like him. Perhaps there was a convention and he was separated from his group.

[Emeritus (DELETED 4718)]

Emeritus: He watched her, obviously bothered by the creatures he had willed to encompass them, relieved to see that she was at least mildly off her game. Not once did his face express any form of reaction to her words, he only knew that she had disrupted his meditation and that, for now, she remained within the crypt he had claimed as his domicile. “My name is of no relevance Dominique” he made a point to emphasize her name “who I am is of no concern, but what I am. I am Darkness in flesh, I am the void made of blood and bone, names are of no consequence paladin. You have seen my artwork, you know where I have been, you should know what I am.” There was no menace in his voice, he spoke only as though this were basic information.

The vibrant green eyes again explored the entire frame of the woman that stood only feet away. “This crypt that I have claimed, you have no use for. I have found the perfect chamber of isolation, to dwell in the deepest darkness, surrounded only by death and decay, this is my haven child.” He smiled, a faint glimmer in his eyes “I have a feeling you will see things my way before your departure.” Slowly he let his hands fall to his sides, even the pale flesh of his hands were blanketed with beetles and roaches as though he wore gloves that were constantly in motion.

Dominique: Dominique didn’t even blink as the black and white caked face explained he was light and dark. Water and salt. Rock and mineral and whatever else he was claiming to be. She knew what he was alright. He was a vampire with one of those mightier than thou complexes and good thing for him she had spent several years dealing with another infamous for the same issue. And yes, it was an issue. She figured helping the confused immortal in front of her and nipping it in the bud was the least she could do since she was obviously more connected in the wiring than he was.

“Yeah, and I am Batgirl. Nice to meet you, Darkness in Flesh. That explains the make-up. Anywho,this here is my backup Batcave. Parking is **** around the main cave over at Sanctuary so I park my batmobile inside that place and I hang here when the signal isn’t filling the dark sky. It isn’t…” The bugs were growing in numbers and she was forced to use both hands to swat and sweep the air clear between them. “Did you bring some expired…” Another loud whack is followed by her steps around the space he was standing and her eyes fixed on what could not be mistaken for anything other than what it was by the ritual altar. “Bodies?!” She looked back at him and then the bodies before stepping closer to him than she had been before. “Listen, I don’t care if you are the Pope there is no way you are going to have bodies rotting away in here. That is one sure fire way of getting your *** as well as mine in trouble. You are already making things bad enough with this infestation you brought along with you.” She whacked the back of her shoulder then swung the rolled up auto manual and hit his chest where she tracked a brilliant green beetle going in for a landing.

Emeritus: His eyes closed, again bringing up, quietly, his singing of the song that held her namesake. He kept the cries of the lost souls quieted enough so that he could maintain proper attention on the woman claiming she owned his dwelling. Acknowledging her minor taunts with a small nod. “To you as well Batgirl, though it seems we are at an impasse on whose lair this is.” The expression on her face as she noticed the corpses strategically placed around the altar, again his lips creased into a small grin “tell me my child” if she was going to compare him to the pope he would live up to the standard “do I look like one that is concerned with any form of trouble? My ornaments, my treasures, the souls I have freed from the confines of mortality, they will be my burden. Should you choose to take any of them upon yourself” he inclined his head slightly “who am I to sway you?”

For the first time he took a step closer to her, brushing aside the splatter that stained his robe from the beetle she had crushed. He could see the blemishes covering her skin, the tiny pricks and bites left by the creatures he had encouraged, he could see the faintest hints of the weakness that grew in her. There was bit of weakness growing within himself as well, though it was not tiresome in itself, he had to keep his mind mildly focused to keep up the barrage of insects and the void was beckoning him stronger, since his meditations had not been properly finished, there was an unspoken pull that he would not be able to ignore much longer.

There was a slight show of urgency in his voice, wishing to return to the torment that solidified his strength “what is our conclusion?” His hand gestured to the lavishly decorated walls, to the bodies so beautifully placed around the stone altar, to the altar itself “I think there is a need here far beyond your simple, how did you say it, hang.” Though his eyes remained fixated on her, he knew he did not have the strength to properly influence her decisions “no creature like you or I is greater than the Darkness that fills us all, surely you can acknowledge this. You must realize, for I see the intelligence permeate your sparkling eyes, that what I am doing here is only for the benefit of your..our species.”

Dominique: The bugs were in her hair, crawling on her shoulder and even being bold enough to bounce from her to him. She swatted her shoulders left then right. Once the nipping of whatever was there stopped she reached over and whacked the oversized beetles and flying insects on him. There was only so much she could take when it came to bugs. She avoided them at all costs. Currently it appeared it could very well mean avoiding or retreating from her crypt that she never uses just to get a reprieve. The numbers were exceeding what she could keep at bay.

”Listen, I am no child. I got enough years on me to have no issue with making that clear. I have my own bag of tricks that I can pull out to play with if it comes to that but as I said before…”A firm whack rid the guy of golden creepy crawly with a set of impressive red wings. “I am cutting you a break. Your ornaments, your treasures…” HOPE pointed the rolled up manual to the still bodies by the ritual altar. “Your friends…” LESS went to her hair and started ruffling the layers to dust out whatever was crawling on the back of her head. “Have made a mess of the place. I need to bomb the hell out of this crypt.” She swung her hands around and tried to pick up the canvas bag but found another bite was all it took for her to abandon the process in favor of taking another swing at the air. “Fair warning, I am starting to get pissed off.”

Emeritus: As the roaches continued to cascade down his heavily painted face, his smile faded, leaving behind an expressionless stare. “Of course you are a child” his voice becoming little more than a heated whisper “you are a child of Darkness.” He stepped closer to her, leaving mere inches between the two vampires “I can see through those sparkling brown eyes. You once clung to the light, but you were betrayed, the light of this world has forsaken you as it forsakes us all. Now my child, you dwell among beasts and demons.” His eyes closing as though he told her through unspoken words that he knew and could feel the pain she had suffered.

Without hesitation his hands cupped her cheeks, a few of the roaches running down the pale flesh he held in his hands, his eyes remained closed as he brought that pain to life in her mind. Too weak to fully overwhelm her mind, but he shared with her, not to cause her harm, but to make his point. His voice came as though he spoke not to her but to her soul “see how the light has abandoned you” and concentrated; fleeting but intense moments of all of her years as a human came to the forefront, he made her feel all of it, the happiness, the warmth, the companionships she had shared but just as quickly came her death at the hands of Doc. This, the Allurist made her experience almost in slow motion, she would feel the despair consume her soul, feel all the isolation that came as her breathing became nearly impossible. As the brink of final mortal breath came he released her, his eyes remaining fixated on her own.

“What is the annoyance of a few biting insects when there is nothing?” the priest of Darkness let his voice be as soothing as possible “every night you fight and work, but for what? You have experienced the void first hand and yet you continue your battles to validate not only yourself but those you love.” He took a few steps, again pulling the hood of his robe over his head “You know what I do, what I must continue to do”[color] he made a small gesture to the altar and corpses “and you know the importance this sanctuary holds to me.” Bringing his hands back together within the robe, he willed all of the flying and crawling bugs onto himself, freeing her of the constant stream of biting“where do we stand Dominique?”

Dominique: She shivered beneath the unexpected touch of his hands on her face. Physically she felt the sensation crawl over each vertebrae of her spine much like the insects, his summoned minions. The effect was instant as a barrage of unpleasant and unwelcome scenes played out in her head. Her face twisted up, forehead creasing in an attempt at resistance while her hands raised. She should be ready to pry her body from his hands and the ground she was standing on but what she saw, felt was leaving her frozen in place. She held a deep useless breath. Now it was time to get away from the hell his contact dropped her into without warning. His hands did the work just as quickly for her and took his swarming of flying minions with him

“You pull that again and you will need a cape to land.” HOPE and LESS pawed at her face and chest frantically only pausing to grab her bag and pull the door open. “I’ll be back.” She closed the door and pulled her hands through her hair roughly and spit out the sensation of bristly legs and broken wings from her mouth. “Two can play that game.” She mumbled hiking back to the car. Before she took her next turn she was going to get finish what she was in the process of and energize for whatever came next. For the moment Mr. Darkness in Flesh was right where he belonged with the rest of the cities dark and walking dead.