(Side Story: Exposed! ) Feel the Wind in your Fangs!! (open)

[Mortll]

Mortll slid into the car's seat and Enzo joined her Bertram slid down the glass that separated the back from the front. Mortll quickly told him they would be going to the Voodoos back parking lot. The glass slid back into place
giving them privacy once again. She leaned against Enzo letting her head rest on his shoulder . She was a bit worried about what was soon to happen. Enzo had seen many of her sides but she had yet let him see her at her worst how sadistic and cruel she could be. It wasn't a side she showed the people around her often. She had only really shown one other person that side and now .

She looked up at him. He looked deep in thought. Just as she was about to speak two things happened simultaneously, a loud thump came from the trunk and Azraeth appeared in the seat next to her. Mortll practically scrambled onto Enzo clawing and turning to face his brother. "What the hell AZ couldn't you give someone ******* warning your going to do that? " Her face felt flushed she didn't know if she could still blush but embarrassment at being startled showed all over her .

[Enzo Dragomir]

Somehow it felt as if the air compressed for a split second. Just as he felt the fine hairs on the nape of his neck stand up with what could only be described as an electrical feel, molecules smashing against each other looking to start a cellular war, the air expanded again. He had just begun wrapping an arm around Mortll when he felt another presence in the Rolls followed by his fiance's outburst.

'Az, good of you to come brotherman"

Shifting over in the seat to make room for the third occupant he tossed a grin at his brood mate and then plucked a quick kiss from his love. The inner turmoil he was continuously subjected to of late was heightened as the trunks baggage made a few more thumps in the rather spacious dark.

"I'm glad you made it back safely from your holiday, you'll have to catch me up on everything during a less... tumultuous time..."

Slipping the black lenses of his sunglasses off, he tucked them into his breast pocket, the slim lines of the frames barely making a dent in the classic black pinstripe Armani he wore. He knew he was stalling for time, but he wasn't sure how to put into words what needed to be said. A rare occurence for the CEO of an international marketing firm. Dragonal was launching their 'Vampires are just like us' campaign in two days and this newest 'bump' in the road was doing all it could to become a major upset. The darkened slits of his pupils narrowed as he thought once more of his father, nothing more than ash floating along with such common debris as chimney grit and pollution in a grey London sky. August seemed so much more than that, there was so much more to the man than a legacy of resting what remained of his mortal shell against so many black smudges staining century old buildings.

He had his son Enzo supposed... and they said that your children were your immortality... but the Dragon knew that was for others. He had given his father true immortality... but it proved just as false as anything else in this lying ***** of a world. They had been but a half hour from stepping on the plane that would have only had his father gone a short time, returned from the fade once more. There had been no such gift in England... that he knew of.

Looking at Azraeth askance for a moment he wondered off handedly if that was indeed truth... that this was the only rift... and if anyone could know the answer to that it was his beloved brother.

He truly didn't know what he would have done without the demon named for an angel, the vampire was so much more than a 'fang'. He'd have to discuss it later, after this mess was cleaned up.

"I ran into my father in London... August." he turned his dark leonine head toward the front of the car once more as he gathered his thoughts "He was dying. Cancer." it still seemed so unreal "I embraced him." He knew that he sounded more defensive than he might have wished, but he couldn't help the feeling of having been pushed into a corner and having to fight his way back out. "We were followed somehow, by a Paladin and father was slaughtered... I was able to overwhelm him but too late. I had to give chase for a good two weeks to locate him once more, an order of some sort, Templar... "

It galled him still to think some 'holy paragon' had gotten the step on him, he couldn't believe there were these things even in the mean streets of White chapel, the Ripper's old stomping grounds. A place of monsters, not saints.

"I was able to capture him. He's in the trunk and Cara and I were on our way to... question him."

He didn't believe his brother to be squeamish about such things as torture, but Enzo had never brought up the subject before... he knew that Az would kill anything that harmed his family, they'd hunted together before... but this was different. Torture was different. Take out the factor of August being Lorenzo's birth father, the fact remained, the ******** in the trunk of the Rolls had slaughtered a baby Dragon. A Dragomir.

He knew that Az would do the right thing. He always did.

It wasn't as if he had much time to digest it all, the car swung into the parking lot behind Mortll's business and pulled to a stop. Enzo made no move to get out yet, he waited to hear his older brothers take on things... not that he would be kept from doing what he had to.

He was going to flush out the entirety of the Templar bastards and drain them straight to Hell.

[Ignacio (DELETED 8764)]

The scant light he had been sitting in all but disappeared as clouds began to gather, covering the pure silver of the waning moon. Soft staccato beats began to sound on the roof of his car as rain slowly wept over the Paladin, as if even nature began to grieve for Samuel's loss. The morbidity of the thought and the pain of his choices as Commander brought a single tear down the side of his patrician nose, fisted away before it could melt into lips set in stern grimace before relaxing into an emotionless line. There were always casualties in war. Sacrifices. It didn't make mourning any easier for those left behind. And Ignacio had been mourning for over a decade... countless losses amidst his victories, each win made somehow grayer as he sat alone, chanting the names of his fallen comrades over and over in his mind. He would not let them pass unknown, unnamed into the eternal. The Templar knew that God had welcomed each one in turn, but they did not leave this world without making a mark, and Ignacio would keep faith with each one.

It was not as if he could forget them even had he wanted to. Subtle shades and forms haunted him always, the ghosts of the fallen. Each more vivid than the last. At first he had thought it was his guilt manifesting itself, imprinting upon his world. Until some began to whisper... telling him he bore no guilt, telling him to stay true to the path, to avenge against the monsters that had stolen a Paladin from the world.

Now he almost welcomed the sight of them, their grizzly visages a reminder of the rightness of his road. He was not one of the humans who could see there were good amongst the evil. That there were those of the Nosferatu that did not live murderous lives. Ignacio could respect the fight against their nature, even condone it.... but evil was evil by its very nature and sooner or later all monsters fell into their sins. He was merciful to those who had not yet fallen, giving them swift, painless death... and in doing such he gave them a greater gift. Freedom from Satan's bonds on earth. A chance to ascend.

Even Lucifer could still repent...

If he were not so full of pride...

Lost in that musing, Ignacio almost missed the slip of a girl making her way from her car toward the luxury high rise. He almost missed the subtle tells she gave off as something more than human... it was in the way she moved, a confidence that spoke of predators and grace. Lost on most people the nuances, but Ignacio was trained to pick up on those things that preyed on the mortal.


She was beautiful. Not unexpected, as he gazed on her. Vampire chose those things that attracted them to keep them forever, and beauty seemed to be their art. The vampress had features etched from marble, and hair the nights sky would be envious of. She seemed oblivious of her surroundings as a smile played upon lush lips, obviously having been granted a boon she most wanted.

None of that mattered to Ignacio. He felt nothing but indifference toward the angelic visage. What did matter was she was somehow connected to the vampire who were under his watch. Another link in the chain.

Just as he had made his mind up to follow her, the GPS began to move, showing brother Samuel on the move again.. pulling out of the private garage and heading up the road. So it began, and Ignacio gave a silent prayer to God for his brother... let him die with dignity... let him withstand this one last trial... let him come home to you... heralded by angels for his bravery.

Ignacio slipped from his car and began to shadow the newest link. Waiting... watching for a single misstep that would gift her to him. It would come... if one had patience....

The lash scars on brother Ignacio's back attested to how much patience he possessed..

[Rowan]

Time flew by, just like the miles as she drove as quickly as she dared while still keeping to the city speed limits, and soon Rowan was pulling into the parking area for the condo. Swiping up her backpack, she exited the car and brushed her black hair off her face. Her happy feelings were displayed for all to see in the smiling lines of her mouth and eyes, eyes that were practically glowing with a silver light, the outward sign of her inner Dragon. Which reminded her that she hadn't been able to pester any of the other members of the Dragomir line for stories and histories, which she had been meaning to do in order to learn more about her new family. Meaning to do, but hadn’t been able to… with everything going on, from her job at the Black Fox, to her Sire taking a trip abroad, there hadn’t been more time to learn much beyond the basics.

Lightly humming a happy tune she had heard on the radio, she crossed to the tower but paused just before entering and looking around the area. Something felt a tad off to her but, not seeing anyone else in the vicinity, Rowan shrugged it off. She resumed her humming as she made her way to the condo, mind swirling with curiosity about the latest propos Dragonal was preparing to launch in response to the exposure of her kind to the world. She knew the propaganda was needed to show humans that there was nothing to be afraid of, that vampires were just like them in a lot of ways, so that there wouldn’t be a witch hunt of epic proportions for them.

‘If we could show them that we care and love our families too, maybe that would be a good angle,’ she mused distractedly as she came to the condo door and fished in her backpack for the keys to let herself in. Which was why she didn’t notice the man following her until it was too late.

She made a noise of victory as she retrieved the keys and had been able to unlock the door before that sense of danger came back, a gut feeling she had as a human not translating entirely to a gift as a vampire but enough to get her out of her thoughts to turn and see a man nearby watching her intently. Her eyes widened, gray reptile slitted pupils on full display, and a fission of fear shot through her spine. Whoever he was, he was dangerous with a capital D.

Her hand let go of the unlocked door and she took a step backwards instinctively. Her hand went to her pocket and her phone, where she tried to call her Sire, just in case. Thank goddess he was on her speed dial and she didn't have to take her phone out to call him, to alert him in case the worst happened. She was hoping it was nothing, but in case it was, she thought the phone might give him a chance to hear whatever would happen, an idea taken from the plot of a book or two she had been able to read. Of course, that idea depended on his answering the phone which, considering he said he was going to take care of an errand, he might not do.

“Can I help you?” she asked the stranger, watching him carefully.

[Meara]

Meara adjusted her wide brimmed black hat as the door to her office closed behind her. A piece of paper was pulled from her back pocket, a closing check list, which she started to go down through. As she walked around the shop, Meara’s mind was flittering from one thing to the next. She had been studying the business plans and inventory her sire had entrusted her with managing. It felt like months but it had only been three days since she started working at the family business. As she walked out of the shop and off in the direction her phone said the Lounge was, Meara took time to reflect on what had exactly happened in the last week.

What a wild few days it had been for the redhead. She came to Harper’s Rock with the prospect of making money off the tourists flocking to investigate the reports of vampires. Here she was, a month later, as one of the otherworldly beings that she didn’t believe were actually real. Feeding was much harder than it looked – she had already been shanked by a human right in the gut. Firearms made her body recoil too much, and that wasn’t good for her music. She was going to have to find another way of exterminating those damn zombies that didn’t threaten her livelihood.

Alex was kind enough to help finance Meara to get her on her feet and give her a place to stay. So she purchased the bare necessities, and proceeded to reinvest most of the funds into a startup called The Dragonal Corporation. As she understood it, and was further explained during the first business meeting she attended, this was basically an international marketing agency that was going to try to shape how the world viewed vampires. In Meara’s mind, that premise was no different than in X-Men comics where the mutants were trying to convince the world that they didn’t need to be exterminated. It was just something different to adjust to. Even a fledgling like Meara could understand the need for a business like that – so she backed them. She hoped to prove her business savvy to her sire so that she might be entrusted with more things, and thus carve out a little niche for herself.

She and Rowan got to talking after the meeting concluded. The woman was also a newborn vampire like herself, so Meara had asked if it would be ok for them to hang out after work. She was hopeful that she could pick the other woman’s brain for advice on how to adjust. While she appreciated advice from her elders, Meara also thought advice from someone who had so recently been in her shoes would help her out a lot. They settled on the Voodoo Lounge the following evening after they had finished up closing at their respective jobs. The little café was one of Meara’s favorite from her time in town so far.

She shifted her purse on her shoulder as she pushed open the door to the Café. Meara peered around, looking for the brunette among the tables. However no luck yet. Meara gave a halfhearted shrug and went over to tuck herself into a window seat to wait. She pulled out her cellphone and her Kindle, and proceeded to shoot off a quick text before settling in to read another chapter in the Art of Asking.

[t] Hey Rowan, it’s Meara. I’m in the overstuffed chairs across from the counter. See you soon.

[Azraeth]

"Sorry about that guys. Note to self: Text ahead and make sure there's enough room. I almost ended up in your lap just there, Mortll." He said with that breezy, light-spirited tone which frequently gave the impression that he was aloof, even if nothing was further from the truth. He carefully settled into a seat, attempting not to look too sheepish. It took him a moment to realize that they were in a car, probably his brother's Rolls Royce. The car of vampires if you asked Joe Hill, the author of Nos4a2, a novel about a decrepit old spiritual vampire and his magical, murderous Wraith. At the very least, the make spoke volumes about a person. Dark decadence. Az himself rarely drove, preferring the immediacy of simply being where he wanted. Within limits. Teleportation only seemed to go so far, and Az had been more than happy to test the absolute limit. Not meant for long distance travel, over short distances; it was champ. And completely devoid of style, where the expensive car had that in spades.

"You look gorgeous tonight, Mortll, though I'm sure you've already heard that at least once from our host here. The prince returned." He said as he leaned back into the comfort of the seat. His gaze shifted to the window and he glanced outside. He could see the flash of lights. The way that street lamps seemed to jump by every couple of seconds. He saw signs telling people that the owners of a given shop purchased gold. Or accepted pawn. Most interestingly, there was a glowing horsehoe which caught his attention, hanging with the bow at the top and the opening at the bottom. There was something about it that tugged at his mind, though he struggled not to acknowledge it. Instead, his eyes moved to Enzo. He could tell there was something going on almost instantaneously. It wasn't a 'feeling' or anything like that. A mixture of facial expressions, and a deeper sense of something beneath the surface. He wanted to reach out and hug the man. Ask him about it. But that seemed inappropriate for the conversation.

So he listened. He listened to the whole story, about how Enzo's father had been turned. About the attack. The death. Paladins were nothing new, but normally they were an issue handled inside of Harper Rock. In fact, it seemed like every few months, there was something new to worry about. The rise of blood thieves, a massive storm causing havoc and destruction, the election of a vampire thrall. Harper Rock seemed to attract trouble like a magnet. However, once one left town, those issues usually melted away; it was why Az had frequented Las Vegas for months after his turning. He liked getting away from the natural disasters, and the enemies, and the big fish in little pond syndrome which had grown rampant as a weed.

"I see." He said when Enzo was done. Normally, Az would have been content to seek retribution against the individual and be done with it. Blood for blood. A kill for a kill. But with vampires coming out, loose ends weren't something the community had the luxury of accepting. Besides. Vampires had run The Order of St. James of the Sword out of Harper Rock. If the proverbial death blow could be dealt to them; then it could be dealt to any group. The 'live and let live' mentality only worked if everyone was on board, and when they weren't, harsher measures had to be taken to ensure protection. Safety. Step one was finding out exactly how much the paladin knew. How he had come to find the Dragomir. Where his orders came from. What the ones giving the orders knew. The vampire silently ticked off the different thoughts as they ran through his head.

"Right, well I'm getting some really bad vibes about this whole thing, if I'm being honest, so we should probably get this guy strapped into the car-battery-clamped-to-nuts chair." He said as he pulled himself out of the car when it came to a stop. He silently lamented that he hadn't thought to bring along his bag of ritual items just in case they were needed for something. Unasked, he began to read the human's memories while he was still in the trunk, deciding to try and be useful that way. Of course, there was no telling if he would pick up anything important, but a name, or names, or anything could be of use. He kept that connection erected between himself and the paladin on the off chance something in Enzo's questioning made something specific rise to the surface.

Had it been him, he would have just ripped his way right into the man's mind, and scared the life right out of him with a little booming telepathy. Sadly, that was little more than a parlor trick (of which Az was the master), and a paladin was unlikely to be so easily frightened.

[Mortll]

The boys were going to be entering her sanctum her kitchen. Mortll was a bit nervous now it wasn't only Enzo it was Az to. Over the years she had never been that close to her Dragomir family. Doc had once asked her flat out If she realized she put up walls and distanced herself from people. It had gotten a good laugh from her. Of course she knew. Too many people had let her down too many people didn't understand and too many people left her and never came back either death or just did not understand her. More like they didn't care enough to try and understand her

So she hid this part of herself quite easily . Bertram pulled the Rolls into the back parking lot of the Voodoo. It wouldn't be to hard for them to move their captive the short distance to her hideaway. Mortll had grabbed a large leather bag from her apartment as they had left. It was one of the many little presents that Doc had given her while they were together well in fact every time she ended up calling him to stitch her up from a raid or other outing. He would leave her goodies she mostly collected them for times such as this. Another loud thump came from the trunk of the car and Mortll opened the bag. It only took seconds to fill the vial with the strong tranquilizers. She only put a very few cc's in Doc would load her up just to have any effect on her vampire metabolism. She looked at Enzo then Az "Well boys are we ready to do a little Work?" she smiled and placed the cap back on the syringe.

[Enzo Dragomir]

The relief he felt was palpable as his brother spoke, assuring him that he wouldn't be judged harshly. The rain continued to patter against the windows of the Rolls and his shoulders straightened while his arms relaxed around Mortll after realizing he had been holding her too tight. "Pardon Cara." he murmured into her hair while his mind flew down the road of thought that would get him the answers he desired. Slowly he nodded and reached over to open the door, Bertram as if on silent command also got out of the vehicle. The glossy silver of the beautiful car gleamed in the dull street lights, even the grime of this city couldn't dim the luxurious glint.

At least the Paladin won a one way ticket to Hell in true style.

Reaching once more under his suit jacket and into the dual holster, the Allurist pulled out a tranq gun and aimed it at the trunk as he nodded to Bertram. The latch made a popping sound that sounded to him loud as a gunshot and the boot swung open to reveal the man trussed inside. He was large, blonde and very German. A living cliche. His tattoos seemed stretched over corded muscles and almost otherworldly in the way they seemed three dimensional... if overly religious. Light blue eyes narrowed but the man made no sound against the gag tightened into his mouth. Enzo supposed if looks could kill... well he was already dead, perhaps the Paladin wanted him dead er. Or so dead he could face the judgement such religious people seemed to wish upon everyone but themselves.

He judged himself harshly enough, he didn't need any help.

Finger tightened for just a second and the tranq gun popped out a sound of canistered air and within five seconds the man was gone into whatever dreams such creatures had.

He hoped they were piss inducing bad.

Together he and Bertram rolled the unconscious man into a large duffel that seemed to be designed for a 50 calibre of mass destruction and zipped it closed. Nodding to Az he swung to one end and with a huge exhale of unneeded air, swung the package over his shoulder. "Lead the way my love." he murmured, noting how odd it sounded considering the circumstances... as if she were leading him to a lazy night spent a'bed. The Dragons gaze flickered on her for a long moment, assuring her with his steady look that he was calm and in control.. and trusted her with his life.

The heavy burden was more than just his captive slumped down his back... he couldn't shake the feeling that danger had found his family and was indeed stalking their every move... waiting...

[Ignacio (DELETED 8764)]

The Paladin looked down at his arms to ensure the sleeves of his black turtle neck sweater were down and covering the tell tale markings and tattoos that signaled his devotion to God. His divine power gifted to his creation. Slate grey eyes narrowed as he then inspected the rest of himself, the black BDU's and equally dark boots. His kevlar vest well hidden under the dark grey of his jacket.. he found that breaking up black in the darkness with a grey tone lent him a better ability to blend into the shadows... it was never pitch black outdoors, rather dark shades of grey and shadow. From his side vision he watched his mark turn the corner toward the entrance and he surveyed the surroundings for any witnesses before stepping out with an apologetic smile masking his true intentions.

Just as the moon spilled across him, lighting the handsome lines of his face and turning his dark blue eyes into something crisp, glowing in a way that only azure irises could manage, he tilted his head slightly to the side as he allowed himself to be known. Making just enough noise but not enough to truly startle, he slumped slightly against the wall to deceptively appear smaller than his normal 6"3 frame of tightened muscle.

As he wanted, she turned her head to stare at him for a moment. He watched the features of her lovely face waver and then set into a stern line as if she had needed to talk herself into courage and managed it... just barely...

A fledgling. Still clinging to her humanity. It was in the way she moved, the way she drew in breath that she didn't need from pure habit of life. Her uncertainty as a woman when approached by a strange man before remembering that 'she' was the monster, not him. She did not yet have the full palour of the aging dead. In this light she was soft and beautifully skinned, but he knew that once in harsher light she would be outed as the abomination she was.

He steeled himself against the touch of innocence and fleeting fear she didn't have enough life experience to hide yet, he would not be so easily seduced, though it assured her a quick death when the time came... he would not drag her suffering out as he would have if she'd been in the least bit jaded upon examination.

She still could be saved.

"Can I help you?" she asked, as if she had something he wanted... which perhaps she did... his ultimate service to his maker. His obedience and devotion in the face of such alluring youth. He would not fail. Soften.

Weaken

Curving his lips into a light self deprecating smile he straightened as if in apology before using his soft Spanish accent to his advantage.

"Forgive me, I am new to the building and could not help congratulate myself for the luck of having such a beautiful neighbor."

He swept a head bow without taking his eyes off her, and as he watched the old world nicety work its charm upon her his arms snapped up and pulled her straight into his body while rolling around the side of the wall into the alley. Locking his foot against her ankle he purposefully tripped her as she geared up to use her strength against him, and as she fell he snapped her shoulders so that her head hit the pavement first, cracking upon the ground and crushing against the surface. He smelled the blood before he saw it, rolling on top of her as her eyes glazed and glossing over in pain. The Templar took that moment of confusion and slid his fingers down to grasp the syringe held in place by a leather holder around his wrist. Popping it out he used his teeth to take the cover from the needle and stabbed her quickly in the neck.

He held her then as the drugs took hold, watching her eyes intently as accusation and a warring mixture of anger and pain played out before him. She was a fighter this one... and it moved him... enough to curse her maker for turning such potential into satan's *****. He would avenge her. Ignacio didn't know what brought such thoughts on, but he knew with a certainty that he would make her Master pay for her death. Whispering such against her ear he began to slide back up to his feet, pulling her limp form with him. After putting the cover back onto the needle and pocketing it, he swept her up into the mimic of a lovers carry, looking like nothing more than a man taking his tipsy woman home... even whispering, smiling, softly laughing as if they were at play to any passerby as he made his way back to his car.

As per the numb and crime ridden city's usual, there were few humans any where at all, and none on his way to the Land Rover waiting for him. The Spaniard slid the young vampress into the back seat and secured her with restraints camoflauged as seat belts. Assuring her it would not be long, he slid into the front seat of his car and slowly backed out to pay his parking fee and escape before more of her kind decided to merge upon the obvious undead hub.

City of the Damned... and this place was Grand Central Station.


Select your opponent: Another PC

Select difficulty of task: Difficult

Select type of task: Phyically demanding

Opponent's Username (If necessary): Rowan

Reason for roll (Required): Assault/Kidnapping

Make results: Public

Roll the dice!





You succeeded in your endeavour.

[Rowan]

Rowan watched with wary eyes as the man stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Her breath caught in her throat and she became very aware of her habit of breathing despite not needing it anymore. She couldn't help it in this instance, being struck by the physical appearance of the man just like she had been struck when she had first met her Sire, her gut churning with the sense of the otherworldly. This stranger was gorgeous, his eyes burning with a mysterious glint in the shining moonlight. The was nothing normal about him, though his attire seemed to be chosen to allow him to blend in easily, to aid in his disappearance into the shadows if needed. The smile that played about his lips was disarming and his voice flowed over her like liquid honey.

“Forgive me, I am new to the building and could not help congratulate myself for the luck of having such a beautiful neighbor."

The beginning of a smile twitched at her lips with the compliment she was paid and she swept her fingers over her phone, still not removing it from her pocket just in case. Unknown to her, the text message her new friend Meara sent had come in and the attempt to call her sire had her call connecting to the other fledgling vampire instead.

There was something about the way that he carried himself that made her uneasy because it lapped at her senses and tried to lower her defenses. He had charm in abundance and seemed to be making himself approachable. Rowan didn’t have much experience with men aside from the scum she had catered to in her odd jobs, and most of the time she’d spent learning how to get the most out of them while trying to detach the misplaced and roving hands from her various body parts. Bad experiences with men didn’t lend her much trust towards any of them, yet here was this utterly disarming stranger claiming to be a neighbor. It was strange how she relaxed almost too quickly in response to his non verbal cues that lulled and convinced her that her suspicions were misplaced. Right up until his arms snapped out and practically crushed her to his chest.

‘I didn’t even see him move,’ she thought to herself as he tossed her around. Had she been human, her eyes would have been watering from the pain that lanced through her body as he manhandled her shoulders, possibly dislocating one though she couldn’t think clearly much less be able to accurately pinpoint her injuries. Her head hit the floor with a loud crack and pain echoed in waves through her head, leaving her dazed and struggling to focus. Her vision swam, grey eyes glazing over with pain and making her dizzy as the world seemed to spin around her. A quick pinch to the side of her neck and she could make out the form of a syringe being drawn away from it.

Drugs. A biting cold numbness spread through her veins and Rowan realized that her body didn’t want to obey any commands. She was paralyzed, helpless. He had drugged her. Her body grew slack as the drug worked its way through her system like brushfire, leaving her body vulnerable and her struggling to keep awake. His whispers rang in her ears as he brought her to his car, pretending that they knew each other well. She struggled even harder against falling asleep when she heard him murmur that he would save her, that the demon who had done this to her would pay, that he was sorry she had been robbed of her potential, her soul.

‘Demon?’ Rowan thought, losing the fight as she was strapped in and secured with restraints that masqueraded themselves as seatbelts. ‘YOU are the demon! Help me... Please...’

~*~

Select your opponent: another PC
Select difficulty of task: Very difficult
Type of task: Physically demanding
Opponent: Ignacio
Reason for roll: struggle success upon kidnapping
Dice Rolled.

You have failed in your endeavor.