Pack Struggle [MM]

[Storyteller]

Title: Pack Struggle
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Characters: Kyrie, Henry Craven

Kyrie must post first, outlining a story on the following theme (feel free to get creative):

Setting: Trapped in a facility
Backstory: The group were all attending the same event (some or all characters).
Occurance: ancient zombies attack.
Variable: Kyrie is vomiting blood.

Participants: 2
ARES: no
Speed: slow
Chapter: no
Minimum Words Per Post: none
Maximum Words Per Post: none

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This thread was generated via the Roleplay Matchmaking System.

[Kyrie]

Kyrie had tried to gather around something that the people were calling a "Zombie bash." It was really a rather grotesque event. He expected the types of people who would be there were going to be the same that hated vampires, so he kept his distance. Just trying to see what they were really like. The way they'd act. Somehow they'd manage to catch a number of zombies inside a cage which were crawling and scrambling at the edges of the cage. Someone had set up a system so they could manage to drag on out of the roof without letting the others out and then toss them into a ring where a group of the humans were with weapons.

There was a number of facilities around and he had to glance around to make sure none of them were approaching him. He didn't exactly stand out for a vampire, he wasn't all that powerful and he was regularly eating food. Also he was new to the place, so most assumed he wouldn't be turned. However, as much as he hated it, he'd had to follow the new laws. He had no need to get himself into trouble with the police. The trouble was what would he do if he ever had to leave. In a way, he was known forever as a vampire. Just not by the average person. But doubtless the police would spread that information if he ever escaped.

There were some cool parts to being a vampire, but there were a lot that were very much not so nice. One of those being the public.

All of a sudden he heard screaming. The zombies in the cage weren't the only ones around here, and these others were far more powerful. Rushing them and even killing some of them in the process, "Ah bugger." he hissed angrilly pulling out the pistol behind him and sending a few rounds into one as it approached him, his shots were cut short as someone behind the creature sent a shotgun round right through it and into him. Not paying attention to the damage it caused. The creature fell, but so did Kyrie, clenching the holes as he began to bleed, "Oh...dear" he groaned on the ground dragging himself to his feet and rushing inside where he immediately clenched over as blood poured from his mouth and he felt woozy. He slammed the door shut behind him. He could hear all the action going outside but all he had with him was a nice knife and a good pistol. Well, he had powers sure but he was not made for fighting a troop of ancient zombies.

[Henry Craven]

WEARING

The city of Harper Rock seemed to be a gateway of drifting scum and fools passing through this strange little world with all their hopes and dreams wrapped up in the pouches of gold that was easily taken from them. Henry Craven was no common pick-pocket, which wasn’t because he wasn’t dexterous enough to slip his velvet fingers past those hidden, guarded places and tease out exactly what he needed. No, it was because Henry preferred his own methods of squeezing the last coins of gold out of them, and that was normally through gambling. If he weren’t making his good looks and charisma work for him, then it was his luck and skill at playing cards and other kinds of risky, strategic games that did it.

Tonight’s game was a black market take on Pochen, which was a card game that required both skill, luck, and bluffing in order to secure a victory. Much like the poker of today, though far simpler, the game consisted of drawing five cards for each player and was played in three intervals. This arrangement made for a long and sometimes stressful game, but it wasn’t this alone that could cause a game to get annoying. Henry personally found it tedious when his opposition was constructed of such a handful of half-wits like those frequenting his table for the evening. It seemed very probable to him that they had all stumbled out of the same moron tree and consequently struck their already stiffened skulls onto each branch upon their descent before finally landing at a right angle at the neck when they hit the ground…

They had only been playing a couple of hands within the first part of the game and already he was getting bored and looking elsewhere for entertainment. The Deserted Bar was buzzing busily enough with every thug and labourer lounging around like they owned the place, each wearing a hooker on their arm like some precious trophy. All were drinking in the music, the atmosphere and the smoke in the air with varying satisfaction, but all were heavily favouring the liquor tonight. It looked like it would only be a matter of time before the pleasantries subsided and the fights broke out, things always seemed to head in that direction and on occasion, a good ol’ fashioned bar fight was just what the doctor ordered to refresh a jaded mind.

True enough, this wasn’t the type of place that an elitist like Henry Craven would usually frequent. Prior to his turning, the half-Brazilian, half-English heir to the Craven Family estate would have enjoyed only the finer things in life. From houses that were as large as castles, to opulent meals, tailored clothing, bespoke services, private jets and yachts, and never-ending parties. And why not? Because, prior to his turning, Henry Craven - like all of the men in his family - were cursed to die young. There was no question in their mind that the Gypsy’s hex was real when generation after generation of males lost their lives in their early twenties. And in a way, Henry hadn’t exactly escaped that fate either when he’d become a Vampire. Still, things had just changed enough that the Allurist found himself indulging in avenues; like coming down from the rafters and seeing how the commoners live.

Soon enough, motion from the table caught his eye and Henry casually returned his attention to his fellow players. One of the five players had already folded and the twitch in the eye of the guy to Henry’s left led him to assume he’d be soon on to doing the same or calling. If he called, that wouldn’t be good. So far Henry had managed one card short of a straight flush, which was one rank beneath the devastating royal flush. All he needed was that Queen of Hearts to make her grand arrival and he’d have those losers packing for home.

It was the twitchy man’s turn at last, but fortunately, he couldn’t keep such a steady bluff going and inevitably folded. Henry sighed feeling the relief, but kept the breath light and relaxed before moving his gaze to the man on his left who had the next go. Now it was all riding on this guy, but the arrogant chap didn’t even give them the time to think as he threw a few more dollars onto the table and looked at Henry expectantly. The swagger just invoked an elevation of a single dark brow from the Allurist, but he mirrored the man’s bet with the exact amount of dollars before removing that stubborn three of spades from his hand. It was crunch time; if he could draw that Queen he could relax in the secure thought of having beaten those men and bought his night’s drinks on them. It was all resting on that final card.

Henry looked toward the deck that seemed stranded like an island in a pool of glimmering notes and drew a card. Not too quickly and not too slowly, he didn’t want to draw the wrong kind of attention from these guppies. He took the lonely card to greet the others, but held his face vacant from emotion as his eyes, like two chunks of polished jade, smiled down upon that much loved monarch. Finally, he could rest in peace; the Queen was all his and the next couple of sessions seemed to whiz by as Henry didn’t really care anymore. The only way they could beat him was by a Royal flush and that was rather difficult to come by, even for a skilled player. Henry had a high straight flush, and that was some feat, but the night was far from going his way.

While these shaved monkeys didn’t stand a chance at beating him in a fair game, it seemed that their party was about to be rudely interrupted. Henry’s ears piqued to the sound of screaming outside, to metal straining before it snapped, to gunfire, and then a stampede of footsteps. The table of men looked to each other, their faces mirroring the shock and confusion of each man to their left and right as they looked about. Within moments, a figure had come bursting into the door and Henry’s table lept back as he came stumbling toward them. They crushed themselves against the back wall as a line of Human meat like a bear had come charging in. Henry, on the other hand who’d had a front-row view, only turned in his seat to get a better look as the man came crashing down at his feet; the scent of Vampire blood potent in the air.

Well that was a little different, he thought, and he made his disapproval clear in the way his full brows leant into the bridge of his long nose. He moved his foot as the blood began to pool; even if he wasn’t wearing his finest clothing, that didn’t mean he wanted to be covered in blood tonight. Having glanced back at the crowd, it appeared that they were all expecting him to take the lead on this one - probably because he was the only one not to look the least bit concerned by the sudden commotion. He probably should have acted more normally, but even as a mortal Henry had never been startled by anything. It was as though that part of his brain - the ancient part that controlled the fight or flight response - was just not functioning correctly. So instead, the Allurist loosed a deep, frustrated sigh and then leant down toward his bleeding Vampire companion.

“Are you alright?” Henry asked, his Brazilian accent was as thick as molasses dripping over the warm fudge of his words. “This is not the best place to bleed out, my friend,” he said, only this time to be audible for the other Vampire. “The Humans, they are…” He glanced back over his shoulder. “...very jumpy. Can you get up?”

[Storyteller]

==========AUTOMATED RANDOM EVENTS SYSTEM==========

Henry Craven finds some evidence of criminal activity, which comes from an outside source.

[Kyrie]

Kyrie breathed uncertainly clenching his wounds, originally unaware of the people in the room. More focused on what was going on outside as the zombies ran loose. His head shot around with concern however as he heard the movement and clenched the pistol, but his grip relaxed as he saw them. Particularly Henry recognizing that he was a vampire too. Kyrie wasn't really used to being a vampire yet, but he did know that a lot of vampires helped out each other when necessary. At least, he heard that. He'd only had so many experiences with others. But he had definitely tried to do his part sometimes, trying to keep down the notoriety of most, but if someone was particularly troublesome he might make it worse for them.

He heard the man question him before turning his head to the side nearly vomiting blood again but managing to keep it down. Whether or not that was a good thing was...questionable. He knew he'd heal. It was a strange thing being a vampire, the types of things you could heal from without actually dying...again that is. Or would it count as dying? He'd say yes. At least for convenience sake. Kyrie raised both brows and gave a vague sarcastic grin at the bleeding out comment, "When ever is it?" he said quietly. Though the comment about the humans certainly kept him from saying too much more, "Probably. I'm sure it'll heal." he groaned, pushing his hands against the wall, thinking about getting up, "Though...I'm not sure I want to."

[Henry Craven]

The Allurist became uncharacteristically reflective when his new companion made the point that any place would be a bad place to bleed. His handsome face soured, only to sweeten in a moment as the other Vampire smiled to him and then made the effort to shimmy himself up the wall to his feet. Henry withdrew from his position of Mother Hen, stood on his own two feet, then placed a hand on the Vampire’s shoulder as if they were old acquaintances reunited despite space and time. Overall, Henry Craven didn’t think too much about encroaching on another’s space. He didn’t consider the implications of touching other people without their consent or how it might be an instance of invading their privacy or personal boundaries. Henry didn’t consider these things because, more often than not, his intentions were humble and charitable and strictly amiable. Besides which, Henry was somewhat shallow and selfish and simple.

When Henry’s hand met the other Vampire’s shoulder, however, he learned enough about the man’s condition to realise that they needed to leave this place as soon as their immortal specifications would allow it. There was this slightest tremor wracking the other man’s body - a foreboding weakness cloaked in pride-filled smiles that made the Brazillian anxious. Despite their pretences, they were strangers, and were as much a danger to each other’s safety as these Humans were. The last thing they needed right now was for a frenzied search for blood. Henry gave the man’s shoulder a soft squeeze, followed by a tender look of reassurance. His green-brown eyes were dazzling in the dim light of the room and as he turned to face the crowd of spooked Humans, it seemed that he had managed to enchant them all.

“Tis but a scratch!” the Allurist announced, causing the crowd to cheer as if they were paid actors in a film. “Now, let’s get back to drinking.”

When Henry’s spell of words and anima concluded, it appeared as though time had been rewound - yet with both Vampires removed from the scene. Men and women floated around the space like whirling dervishes. Music pulsed in the void of heart beats, breaths, and voices. The card game resumed with five out of the six seats filled, though no one seemed to notice that there was an extra hand of cards on the table without a man to hold them. The other male’s blood, still thick and glossy and ruby on the surface, was soaking quietly into the floorboards like every other inconspicuous spill in a bar too. Watching the show unfold around him, the Brazillian couldn’t be sure how much influence he’d actually had on their minds and how much these people had just wanted to forget and live in ignorance after all that had happened in Harper Rock recently. He didn’t consider how likely it was that the two were connected.

Henry dipped his head toward the ear of his companion. “Let’s go,” he whispered. As he moved toward the exit, however, he was the one to stagger this time. “Ah,” he breathed, leaning on an amused smile. “Tingles.”

[Kyrie]

Kyrie tried to keep up with the act. His face forming a stiff smile before he drew in a shuddered breath and put on a more convincing one. He didn't mind too much the help and direct contact, at least in this circumstance. Although, he'd probably end up making sure nothing left his pockets. Kyrie wasn't one to find contact an irritation. And, he was being helped, so he definitely wasn't going to shove that aside in this state. Whatever the case, even if this guy was trying to take advantage of an injury, here was not the place to do it. And in turn, Kyrie didn't want to be around humans right now. Not if he lost too much blood. He needed Marley to help him out here, he hated to take advantage of that, but sometimes it was just safer that way for everyone.

With barely a few words to the humans, Henry seemed to set them all right back to their lives. If he were human, maybe it would have been harder to command the same level of influence over the human mind. Maybe not, Kyrie wondered just what level of convincing some people had. He wasn't unfamiliar with the ability of a vampires words, he was an Allurist as well. It made him painfully conscious of inflection and either accidentally influencing or being influenced from now on.

They were off to the exit, with Henry helping keep Kyrie moving. By now he hoped all the zombies were gone, and with them hopefully all the nuts that were shooting. That was madness. He could feel what a lack of blood was like again. It wasn't a deadly wound, but it was a pretty bad one. Not one he was expecting to get today. "Thanks-" he said, his voice would still be quiet, and pained, but it wasn't lost or drifting, he was still quite aware, "Though I'm not sure where to go from here. My apartment is too far away for me to walk like this."

He looked at his stomach and his hand that he held over it by instinct as he stayed somewhat leaned forwards grunting as he walked, but keeping his eyes and head looking forwards. He had plenty of resolve. But he knew the limitations he had.

[Henry Craven]

Jade eyes moved with the Vampire’s motions; inspecting them, worrying about them. As close as they were to one another, it would be easy enough to cause each other harm, wouldn’t it. Although he forced the thought into his mind, his other arm came to wrap around the Vampire’s waist regardless. The male had suggested that walking to his apartment would be too much for him in this state, which Henry took to mean that walking in general would be a problem until he had healed. The Brazilian was not a doctor. Indeed, he could barely treat a basic wound, but he did understand basic Vampire biology: feeding means healing.

“Then we’ll get you somewhere safe to heal up properly first,” he replied keeping his voice gentle.

The door between them and the outside world was solid metal; the surface was flat and shiny like stainless steel and sat flush with the frame. The door was scratched and dented, and it had a brass coloured lock and door knob which had dulled with age and greasy finger marks. A brass safety chain dangled at the side along with several bolt locks laddered beneath it; a pointless gesture in a neighbourhood like this. Henry pulled the door open with practiced ease and headed outside with his companion still under his wing.

Henry hadn’t been expecting much of anything when they’d left the bar - despite how the young Vampire had entered it. The darkness swamped his vision for a moment; drenched the things that were barren-white by daylight in a forlorn silver, and made everything else just disappear altogether. Darkness had a way of turning the known into the unknown, transforming things that a person liked or loved into things that were hated and maybe even feared. It was darkness that allowed the mind to bravely tear through spider webs and wander into dusty rooms that sat in distant parts of the brain, places that people never dared to visit when the sun smiled down at them. It had always been night when beasts and ghouls worked to lure children from their sleeping beds and steal away the souls of sinners. The night, the dark - it terrified the mortals.

The only light coming into the facility was through the door they had entered from as well as the walls of windows surrounding them. At one point, Henry could have imagined what these windows would have offered if this place had remained a supermarket. In the back of his mind, he could almost see the great display; fresh fruit, luxury goods, meats, fish, and cans – their prices being advertised on obnoxious red arrows hanging from the ceiling. Now, however, the windows were caked in inches of grime so no one could see in or out of the store – save for the ones that were broken. At least half of the hip to ceiling height windows had been busted open, and Henry saw a number of potential suspects littered along the floor inside even from his position. It would be a good idea to avoid falling over the boots and bricks lying haphazardly along the ground. He also saw a trail of blood, footsteps, and a few discarded body parts...

Before Henry could remark, however, their quiet, lonely stroll was interrupted. Green eyes watched as the humanoid figure came around a wall and started to drag itself hurriedly toward them. Henry wasn’t even sure he could describe the being in front of him as being once Human because it looked more like a skeleton wearing a tattered coat of meat. Its face was barely intact as it was, and when it snarled at them, it did so through some kind of miracle. Its lips, nose, and cheeks appeared to be the first things to rot or disappear; the skin of its entire body was tight and mauled away, so it was difficult to make a distinct guess. Part of its right arm was missing, like something with massive jaws had taken a bite out of it, revealing a sharp stub at the end of its elbow. The skin on its legs was missing entirely from the knees, worn away as if it had been dragged over rocky terrain, so every time the creature took a step forward, Henry and Kyrie were treated to a view of its stringy muscles and tendons moving in sync.

How it even walked at all was a curiosity, what with one of its feet snapped and squashed beneath its own ankle, but perhaps the will to feed was something that surpassed death. Henry didn’t consciously know that he was comparing Vampirism to Zombies at that point, but it was certainly an educated guess. As a matter of fact, the only thing that Henry could be aware of was the howling scream in his ears as a round was fired off. The bullet penetrated the Zombie’s skull, making it rupture violently and burst like a tomato in a microwave. Only, the contents weren’t that fresh, vibrant red colour you would expect from an exploding brain and/or a tomato. Instead, the contents of the Zombie’s head were this dark brown and greenish viscous fluid, and some strange lumps of what looked like shrimp meat. Henry watched in abstract horror as the vile liquid and the chunks spattered the nearby wall in a sharp arc and also sprayed into the room, bringing this God awful stench with it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hold the other Vampire up and pinch his nose at the same time, so, a compromise had to be made.

When the Brazillian turned away from the smell in the room, he noticed that once again, they were not alone. Stumbling toward them from the side was yet another animated corpse. Supposedly it had heard the gunshots and was looking for food. It hadn’t noticed Henry or Kyrie just inside, a few meters away, and had forgotten how to identify doors and operate them, but it was still very intent on getting in. When it slammed its body up against the window right beside the Brazilian and the other Vampire, Henry’s body jumped. In a moment of instinct, the Allurist paced quickly and pressed his back into the wall, and unfortunately, took the other Vampire with him. While this position was good enough to be a safe distance from the corpse and the window, it was still difficult to get a good view of where the target actually was - nevermind their mysterious shooter.

The light of the moon was all they really had, and as clouds passed over intermittently – sometimes in great swathes and sometimes in flittering pieces – it was difficult to determine a shadow from a physical form, especially as the Zombie waddled back and forth. Henry’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he knew this place well enough to form an appropriate escape plan, but what he didn’t know was how much the other Vampire could handle - or for that matter, what his name was.

“Well, this is going wonderfully,” Henry said quietly as he tried to contain his bitter amusement. “I’m Henry, by the way,” he said and offered the hand which he’d slipped from behind the male’s waist. “I hate to assume, because that’s the kind of thing that makes an *** out of you and me,” he continues with a dry smirk, “but, how are you feeling right about now? On the scale of Zombie killing? Are we a one or a five, with one being that I take care of whatever gets in our way by myself - which is fine - and five being that you’re injured, but you can still fire a weapon. Hmm?”

[Kyrie]

Kyrie nodded slightly, choosing not to talk much in response to Craven's comment about healing up. Figuring out where they were gonna go was a little bit more difficult. He wasn't really going to be able to figure that part out himself. He had a particular problem at the moment stealing his attention. Kyrie wasn't bad at handling pain, but that didn't mean he was able to just ignore it and move on when he had several good sized holes in front of his stomach.

Kyrie glanced into the darkness that they reentered. He never really feared the dark. Then again, he lived more in the country for a good bit of his youth. He liked the sounds of the life. The frogs, the insects, sometimes even a coyote here or there. You had to keep your eye out for those, they weren't really that much of a threat because they kept away from people, but you also wouldn't like to get infected. Now a hog, that was something you wanted to avoid if you saw it. It kind of made him chuckle. He was so far from home now.

However, the thoughts of home were interrupted as he saw the eyes. He coughed into his hand immediately groaning as he gripped his stomach from the pain. They were being watched, his face turned cold and he gripped his pistol. Zombies weren't a hard thing for him to kill, when he first got turned, he'd practically used them for practice. But that didn't mean you could just ignore them. Just as with anything, you have to defend yourself. Even a dedicated child can cause some harm if you ignore them.

This one however didn't last long, a blast, not from him, splattered its brains. He brought his hand to his nose unintentionally smearing blood on it as the scent came with it. Ah right, that's why he didn't fight zombies anymore. The rotten flesh was so much worse than their bite. Or at least, it would be, if their bite didn't sometimes leave rotten teeth behind with it.

However even with that one gone, they were not left to themselves. Kyrie found himself dragged along to a wall, in some pain as a result but he kept himself as quiet as he could, not wanting to draw any more attention than necessary. He began to draw the strength to himself to fight, should it come to it. He glanced at the man and his sarcastic comment, as well as his introduction, "Heh, could be worse. And Kyrie." He said gripping the hand, even in this state, it wasn't a weak grip at least.

He shook his head at that saying about assuming, ah, so it really was international. How many times had he been told that by his parents? Who knows. The question now was how many zombies he could take. He took awhile to consider the question, "Like a 4. Zombies and skeletons are easy...for now. But I wouldn't go fighting a mooncalf or even one of those vampires running around lost in the sewers."

The allurist gripped his pistol again and cracked his neck, groaning as he bit his lip and chose to force himself to stand upright and swallow down the pain, he also realized in doing so he let out a labored breath, which was absolutely unnecessary, because after-all, he was already dead right? "I'm just glad I paid good money for this boy." he muttered tapping the gun, and then feeling his waist for his knife.

[Henry Craven]

Henry had stepped aside to allow the other male - Kyrie, as he’d introduced himself as - to gather himself. Pain was evident in a gasp, in those strained movements as the other male had shook his hand, checked himself over, moved to get into position, and reached for his weapons. The Brazilian eyed him suspiciously, albeit with genuine empathy; giving Kyrie the look one might give to a friend falling over their own feet whilst insisting they’re not drunk yet. He smiled fondly and nodded his head in agreement, but in his head he was prepared to fish him out of any trouble that might bob along the waters of possibility. While it might not necessarily be in his nature to be so protective and charitable with people - let alone doting or nurturing - he was experiencing a certain sense of commonality with this man, Kyrie. He felt aligned to him, like they were two black sheep who had to fight against the world and Henry had decided that they were better off doing that together.

While Henry and Kyrie had been quiet enough for the Zombie not to hear them, its interest in the building hadn’t been lost entirely. After slamming its body into the window the first time, it had staggered back and began snarling to itself as if bewildered by the encounter. Now it hobbled left and right, inspecting the building like a dog would look for a place to **** its leg against. Henry was still stuck on the idea of quietly beheading it, even if it meant getting up close and personal with a shuffling, chomping corpse. But if he didn’t have to bother with it, it was probably better to ignore the Zombie outside and focus on whatever was inside. Besides which, there were always other exits to the building. The Brazilian had his doubts that playing truant in such a risky place was going to do him any good as far as his health and relationship with his new companion was concerned, so he stayed put.

Weirdly, the Brazilian was far more concerned by whatever Kyrie thought of him than the fact that he was surrounded by danger, but, perhaps it wasn’t all that weird. Henry might not have been worried for his life, but that didn’t mean he didn’t jump the second time when the Zombie decided to slam its whole weight at the side of the building again. This time, however, they heard the faintest sound of creaking glass.

“Hmm, let’s move.”

The words were spoken as the Allurist pushed himself from the wall and began to advance through the dust of the building; his weapon drawn. His plan was to make for the east end of the building where the once storefront met the warehouse. It was there that all the goods used to be brought in by heavy vehicles and although the industrial shutter doors had been locked down, there was a small fire exit to the side that they could get out through. It was a reliable gateway, well-known, so they shouldn’t have any trouble passing by in regular circumstances. Of course, it wasn’t exactly regular for the biters to be loose from their cages or for clients to get shot up either. They might just have to keep their eyes open.