Tattoos had been Nicolette's thing forever. Since the minute she turned 18 she had practically lived in tattoo parlours, both getting inked and modelling. She loved the feel of a gun in her hand or creating art with her as the canvas. It was a bit of an addiction.
It had set her free, allowed her the chance to immerse herself in something she had loved instead of the pettiness of high school politics. Though she was beautiful enough to give any girl a run for her money for popularity, she had never much been one to join into the school spirit thing. She enjoyed hanging out with her friends and most of them were considered losers. Her grades had been good, not great, she’d had one boyfriend through high school and dumped him in her Junior year after he started telling her friends he’d nailed her (he hadn’t) and just hadn’t trusted any boys her own age afterward.
Once she left high school though she fell right into the life of an artist. She dated a few of the other models, a couple artists and mostly focused on her career. See was shipped around for magazine shoots regularly. When she got the letter from Harper Rock’s Twisted Sister gig she thought it was just another stop on her travels. Yet her she was months later. The slave of a psychotic vampire master who she believed only allowed her to live because his girlfriend liked her work at her shop.
Dominique was really cool, Nicolette would have hung with her given the choice to do so without the supernatural compulsion Trahir Trahison had leashed her with. She missed traveling around and seeing the world though. She wanted to get back to her old life so badly, though the only offer of freedom the vampire had offered her was release from the shackles of this life. Plainly, while dismembering a man who had cat-called her while she was walking out of Twisted Sister, whom he had tracked down and knocked out, dragged them to his crypt where she resided with him much of the time, Trahir had told her that she belonged to him and would until he had no more use for her. Then she would be where the impolite man was. On the butcher’s block, under the knife.
She would never be able to run. He was a hunter. He would track her down as surely as the huntsman had found Snow White for the Queen only there would be no animal heart taking the place of her own.
She had become accustomed to these thoughts and they no longers acted as the distraction they had at the beginning. She was able to lose herself in the art again. Slave and Master both plied their arts on living flesh. In his case living and dead, but to different effects. She made art, made beautiful art on the living bodies of those she worked on. He destroyed the bodies to make what she supposed he considered art.
Books bound in flesh, clothing, wallets, all sorts of knick-knacks from the bones, teeth… That, unlike the constant threat of death was something that she could not get used to. Never. Nicolette could never seen pain on someone’s face without yearning to comfort it. She would never heard anyone intentionally. Never.
Until she had. She had done it three times now. All of the victims vampires. All of them at Trahir’s side, under his direction.Even though the victims were dispatched quickly, unlike the humans her master tortured before killing, it still affected her.
The first time she had watched, ordered to by Trahir as the vampire, he called her a rogue, had broken down in front of her, turned to ash there in the alleyway. Trahir had leaned down, picked up the clothes the vampire had been wearing and shook the ash from them, tossed them to Nicolette with a small smile. “A gift,”he had said. “Almost still in wearable condition”.
Thoughts and memories ran through her mind as she waited inside the lobby of Veil Tower waiting patiently for the snow-plow to come back by, a sign that the cabs would once more be running maybe.
Otherwise she may have to spend the day in her Master’s Veil Tower apartment. Those were not his orders though. She didn’t know what to do. Should she text him and risk his wrath? Text Dominique again and ask her if it was okay to wait there and rely on her Master’s generally amicable response to Dominique’s allowances?
She looked back out the window at the white flakes swirling through the air even faster and thicker than before. It was getting worse instead of better.
She looked at her phone, still undecided on what to do.
When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)
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Trahir Trahison
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Meanwhile, at Veil Tower...
Tribulation brings enlightenment...
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Dominique
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Re: When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)
Faster. She needed to move faster. Alternating sounds of soles lifting then crushing the snow beneath her feet echoed behind her as she left everything where it was. The cell phone, the gun parts, the invoices to cars yet to be delivered all spread out on the Han Solo carbonite desk in her office. The work at hand she was involved with was all left behind when she received the messages from Nicolette and Trahir. Her face was tight, her mind bending trying to grasp what it could be now. The history of their questionable past was outweighed by the concern that one or both were in more trouble than they could handle.
The more distance she cleared the more she realized it was not working. Before thinking clearly she was committed to closing the distance between her and the ones that had messaged her as if the world was on fire. The shadow’s body felt the power kick in before it hit. Her vision was first. Crystal clear and instantly sharp while the brilliant green and blue lit up the blur of darkness she was trying to burst through. Nothing behind the shadows or beneath the ground cover was hidden from her. Her feet barely hit the ground as she felt her hands transform to massive padded paws with their lethal retractable claws. Each scraped the ground with their first contact until they collectively adjusted as needed. The shine of waist length ebony hair blurred into a tawny glow as her form bolted across the open field and headed for the next line of trees. By the time it was reached the petite heavily inked female wearing pink Nikes had evolved into an unstoppable rarely seen lethal predator in the Canadian wilderness. The lioness within Dominique was loose again.
The rush of winter and moisture pelted the fur on the bridge of her nose. Muscles beneath her tawny coat were inspired to push harder beyond any speed she had reached before while keeping in contact with the ground. Her paws kicked back with increased speed sending clouds of freshly fallen snow behind her while the scents of the night that tempted her to divert her path and investigate were fully ignored. The discipline of a natural born killer locked down in her and nothing stood a chance of deterring her from her targets she intended to reach.
The scent of pine and snapped twigs lingered on her fur as the weight of her nearly silent approach brought her to the farm that quickly overpowered the fresh natural scent she wore. Even in the dead of winter death was strong and it was not spared on the land to which she arrived. A shake of her head and a clearing of her nose did little to change the rotten aroma of expired flesh hidden somewhere.
There was no need to search because he was gone. She could sense it as she stepped on the porch then paced around and finally moved back into the snow. Ears meant to hear what could not be seen twitched slowly as her long tail swished back and forth serving the same purpose as if she was tapping her nails slowly in succession on a flat surface. The turn of her body and the snap of branches in the distance had her on the move once again. This time the speed in which she traveled exceeded that in which she moved before. She was getting closer the faster her sprint increased.
The more distance she cleared the more she realized it was not working. Before thinking clearly she was committed to closing the distance between her and the ones that had messaged her as if the world was on fire. The shadow’s body felt the power kick in before it hit. Her vision was first. Crystal clear and instantly sharp while the brilliant green and blue lit up the blur of darkness she was trying to burst through. Nothing behind the shadows or beneath the ground cover was hidden from her. Her feet barely hit the ground as she felt her hands transform to massive padded paws with their lethal retractable claws. Each scraped the ground with their first contact until they collectively adjusted as needed. The shine of waist length ebony hair blurred into a tawny glow as her form bolted across the open field and headed for the next line of trees. By the time it was reached the petite heavily inked female wearing pink Nikes had evolved into an unstoppable rarely seen lethal predator in the Canadian wilderness. The lioness within Dominique was loose again.
The rush of winter and moisture pelted the fur on the bridge of her nose. Muscles beneath her tawny coat were inspired to push harder beyond any speed she had reached before while keeping in contact with the ground. Her paws kicked back with increased speed sending clouds of freshly fallen snow behind her while the scents of the night that tempted her to divert her path and investigate were fully ignored. The discipline of a natural born killer locked down in her and nothing stood a chance of deterring her from her targets she intended to reach.
The scent of pine and snapped twigs lingered on her fur as the weight of her nearly silent approach brought her to the farm that quickly overpowered the fresh natural scent she wore. Even in the dead of winter death was strong and it was not spared on the land to which she arrived. A shake of her head and a clearing of her nose did little to change the rotten aroma of expired flesh hidden somewhere.
There was no need to search because he was gone. She could sense it as she stepped on the porch then paced around and finally moved back into the snow. Ears meant to hear what could not be seen twitched slowly as her long tail swished back and forth serving the same purpose as if she was tapping her nails slowly in succession on a flat surface. The turn of her body and the snap of branches in the distance had her on the move once again. This time the speed in which she traveled exceeded that in which she moved before. She was getting closer the faster her sprint increased.
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Trahir Trahison
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Another setback
Somewhere along the trail, he'd lost one of the prey he followed. Trahir looked back along the street but the signs of the second human who had broken away from the herd had been lost in wind and snow. That would make things more difficult in the short term, but the long run mattered more. Even though he didn't have a way to follow the one who escaped unwittingly at the moment, people talked with the right motivation. Trahir would give the others ample opportunity to give up their friend. Trahir Trahison Other NPCs/Objects Very difficult Intellectual Track Walter to his home Failed
The two sets of footprints though, those he followed north, tracking them to a house in RiverRock. (38, 18)
He stood looking at the small house from the street for a moment before heading west toward the docks. He sent Dominique a message alone with Nicolette giving them his location, but telling Nicolette to stay in Veil with the car since he may have need of it. More than likely he would not, but it made sense to keep the option open. Trahir Trahison Other NPCs/Objects Very difficult Intellectual Continue tracking the siblings Succeeded
The sun would be up shortly, he had no way to enter the abode of the two humans uninvited so he could do nothing but wait for Jane.
It was not in the young vampire's persona to sit idly by. He was impatient to retrieve his belonging and mete out his brand of justice upon those who had taken it, and being helpless to do so grated on him fiercely. Another setback, another failure. Another lesson. This one not learned in blood, but through his own carelessness. He would rectify that mistake. Unfortunately he needed to do something equally as contradictory to his nature as waiting... he would have to ask for help.
The two sets of footprints though, those he followed north, tracking them to a house in RiverRock. (38, 18)
He stood looking at the small house from the street for a moment before heading west toward the docks. He sent Dominique a message alone with Nicolette giving them his location, but telling Nicolette to stay in Veil with the car since he may have need of it. More than likely he would not, but it made sense to keep the option open. Trahir Trahison Other NPCs/Objects Very difficult Intellectual Continue tracking the siblings Succeeded
The sun would be up shortly, he had no way to enter the abode of the two humans uninvited so he could do nothing but wait for Jane.
It was not in the young vampire's persona to sit idly by. He was impatient to retrieve his belonging and mete out his brand of justice upon those who had taken it, and being helpless to do so grated on him fiercely. Another setback, another failure. Another lesson. This one not learned in blood, but through his own carelessness. He would rectify that mistake. Unfortunately he needed to do something equally as contradictory to his nature as waiting... he would have to ask for help.
Tribulation brings enlightenment...
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Trahir Trahison
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Re: When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)
Marsha sat, finishing up reading the journal in her hands. It sounded impossible, but at the same time it seemed like everything was written in earnest. Jeremy looked over from the nearby computer, set up in the corner of the living room. "Two Nile crocodiles were introduced to the St. Augustine Gator Farm back in October. They are being boarded there until late May when they are due to be shipped back to Harper Rock... **** me running, sis. I think this guy might be legit."
Marsha looked up to her brother, her face pale. "That family that disappeared, the RV family... I think vampires got them... it's mentioned here Jer."
"Lemme see that?" Jeremy held his hand out as he wheeled the office chair over to her, takking the book and reading the passage his sister points out. He reads aloud...
"Yeah, Jeremy, I think we need to call the cops or something."
"Wait! There's no way that this guy knows we have this. What if these vampires own the cops? I mean, you ever see that old Kindred: The Embraced show? Vampires can like, hypnotize people and make them do what the say or something. I think we need to get rid of this thing."
"What if he does know though? What if he followed us home?"
"How? I mean, the farm was abandoned right? No sign anyone had been there, why would he suddenly pop up now of all nights? That makes no sense. For all we know he's not even in Canada anymore let alone Harper Rock! Why would a vampire want to live here anyway?"
"I guess you're right," Marsha said, not sounding at all certain.
"Of course I am. Go get some sleep sis, we have classes this afternoon."
Sleep though would be a while coming to both siblings as thoughts of the slaughtered family invaded their thoughts and kept the sandman at bay.
Marsha looked up to her brother, her face pale. "That family that disappeared, the RV family... I think vampires got them... it's mentioned here Jer."
"Lemme see that?" Jeremy held his hand out as he wheeled the office chair over to her, takking the book and reading the passage his sister points out. He reads aloud...
"Jesus..."Trahir Trahison wrote:I had thought that taking Jane out hunting would lead to her getting her first taste of blood taken unwillingly, or at least unwittingly from a vapid human, probably stoned or drunk and looking to get laid at a sleazy club or even an upscale strip joint. She would likely succumb to the blood lust and feed, I would have to pull her from the vessel to ensure its survival and perhaps there would be a few minutes afterward of having to comfort her as she realized she was no longer human and that her former brethren had become the equivalent of a Happy Meal.
When I'm wrong, I'm very wrong.
She declined the locale offered and instead of arguing I decided to take her to a closed down campsite I knew a family from out of town had been squatting in. In a pinch it was close enough to criminal that I felt the feeding could be justified to her so long as she didn't kill anybody. One of those "well if they hadn't been out there breaking the law it never would have happened" things. A slight slip from her moral high horse.
She instead murdered them all. Quite impressively actually. She was inefficient with the first one, she gave away her presence, but what she lacked in stealth she made up for in bloodshed.
It was like watching her reborn. Glorious.
Her clean up skills leave much to be desired, but what is the point of having a mentor if not to learn these lessons.
For that mentor what is the point of buying the services of an older vampire if not to use them?
Perhaps more surprising than even the events of the hunt was the aftermath. Since my change into my first animal form I have seen the world differently, perhaps coldly, callously. My second animal form unleashed within me territoriality and rage and... drive. Not just a hunger for the blood, that thirst is ever present and as impossibly constant as a raging river.
No, a more corporeal desire. That was the surprising part of the evening. It seems the same passion was woken in Jane. I will not commit to paper the events of the aftermath of the hunt but I believe that the dynamic between Jane and I, formerly unwilling pupil and committed instructor, or maybe victim and tormentor, has irrevocably changed.
It will be interesting to see the evolution of our relationship with these new developments.
Regardless the next step is to teach her to clean up and misdirect. I believe her sire, Doc and Mortll will be willing to assist in this.
The game is now well and truly afoot. I just wonder that I have turned from player to chess piece in the process, swept up into the game.
I still want to play.
"Yeah, Jeremy, I think we need to call the cops or something."
"Wait! There's no way that this guy knows we have this. What if these vampires own the cops? I mean, you ever see that old Kindred: The Embraced show? Vampires can like, hypnotize people and make them do what the say or something. I think we need to get rid of this thing."
"What if he does know though? What if he followed us home?"
"How? I mean, the farm was abandoned right? No sign anyone had been there, why would he suddenly pop up now of all nights? That makes no sense. For all we know he's not even in Canada anymore let alone Harper Rock! Why would a vampire want to live here anyway?"
"I guess you're right," Marsha said, not sounding at all certain.
"Of course I am. Go get some sleep sis, we have classes this afternoon."
Sleep though would be a while coming to both siblings as thoughts of the slaughtered family invaded their thoughts and kept the sandman at bay.
Tribulation brings enlightenment...
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Trahir Trahison
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Making plans
Trahir settled down on the black leather couch in the cabin of his boat, the Venus. The wooden ship was surprisingly warm inside given the conditions of the weather outdoors. She was iced in though, unable to sail with the water around the docks solid. Still, she made for a good bolt hole at least for the moment and she was close to the home of the two humans he had tracked earlier.
The vampire considered his options carefully. He would be unable to send a human other than Nicolette into the home to retrieve the journal as that would put him right back at square one, unless the human was already through the Masquerade. That brought up the problem of him not knowing any of the Blood Thieves or Sorcerers in the city well enough to ask for assistance.
He couldn't rely on other vampires outside of Jane as they had without fail, turned their backs on him when everything had gone down leading to his falling out with Andras. He believed that Mortll had shared information with Doc and that had led to Nicolette ending up with his own gun to his head. Mortll was out. Doc was out, the Shadow would as soon kill him as look at him let alone assist him. Corentine was a Killer, younger than Trahir so she likely would not have the ability to get into the home either.
Velveteen and Micah could likely easily help but the last time they spoke things had gone... poorly. Besides, he knew from experience that attacking another vampire generally had to be ran through one of them and he'd been attacked by a member of their inner circle. One of them if not both had agreed to the action. They wouldn't make a good option to turn to for help. Again, they'd likely take the opportunity to bring harm to him.
Of course if the journal got out, he would be hunted down likely anyway.
Jane. She was the only one he could trust in the matter and she would likely be less than happy with what he needed done. Especially since her name was plastered on the pages of the book. Of course if she didn't know that...
Nicolette should be at Veil Tower. It wasn't too far away, she could take the train to arrive if they were still running. Trahir wasn't sure if the weather had shut them down. Jane was probably on her way. He sent another text to Nicolette. "Come to the boat. I may have a task for you. Dress warmly. There are clothes upstairs in the apartment. Bring protection. Letter will be in my pocket."
With that he penned the addresses he knew of the three humans. "Make friends, retrieve my journal, the leather bound one. Try and set a meeting. Give me the location. Burn this note outside."
Simple enough. Trahir settled back on the couch as he pushed the paper into his inner pocket of his parka. Now it was a matter which of his girls arrived first which course of action would be dictated.
Nicolette's part in this thread moved to stories and journals and can be found here: http://www.mooncalfstudios.com/pathofth ... 17&t=26962
The vampire considered his options carefully. He would be unable to send a human other than Nicolette into the home to retrieve the journal as that would put him right back at square one, unless the human was already through the Masquerade. That brought up the problem of him not knowing any of the Blood Thieves or Sorcerers in the city well enough to ask for assistance.
He couldn't rely on other vampires outside of Jane as they had without fail, turned their backs on him when everything had gone down leading to his falling out with Andras. He believed that Mortll had shared information with Doc and that had led to Nicolette ending up with his own gun to his head. Mortll was out. Doc was out, the Shadow would as soon kill him as look at him let alone assist him. Corentine was a Killer, younger than Trahir so she likely would not have the ability to get into the home either.
Velveteen and Micah could likely easily help but the last time they spoke things had gone... poorly. Besides, he knew from experience that attacking another vampire generally had to be ran through one of them and he'd been attacked by a member of their inner circle. One of them if not both had agreed to the action. They wouldn't make a good option to turn to for help. Again, they'd likely take the opportunity to bring harm to him.
Of course if the journal got out, he would be hunted down likely anyway.
Jane. She was the only one he could trust in the matter and she would likely be less than happy with what he needed done. Especially since her name was plastered on the pages of the book. Of course if she didn't know that...
Nicolette should be at Veil Tower. It wasn't too far away, she could take the train to arrive if they were still running. Trahir wasn't sure if the weather had shut them down. Jane was probably on her way. He sent another text to Nicolette. "Come to the boat. I may have a task for you. Dress warmly. There are clothes upstairs in the apartment. Bring protection. Letter will be in my pocket."
With that he penned the addresses he knew of the three humans. "Make friends, retrieve my journal, the leather bound one. Try and set a meeting. Give me the location. Burn this note outside."
Simple enough. Trahir settled back on the couch as he pushed the paper into his inner pocket of his parka. Now it was a matter which of his girls arrived first which course of action would be dictated.
Nicolette's part in this thread moved to stories and journals and can be found here: http://www.mooncalfstudios.com/pathofth ... 17&t=26962
Last edited by Trahir Trahison on 24 Feb 2016, 01:02, edited 1 time in total.
Tribulation brings enlightenment...
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Dominique
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Re: When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)
Once her paw hit the deck of the restored boat she shifted with the following silent steps that had her moving in all her healthy inked glory. By the time she reached the stairs to take her down below she was able to sense that she had found him. Her feel alternated taking the needed steps so that she could land on the floor solid expecting to see him, which she did. There on the leather sofa he was quiet and in all appearances looking rather calm for what she had perceived as as serious situation on the rise.
Carefully she stepped around to come in front of him and didn’t allow anything to slip from her focus while fixing her eyes on him. The scent of lioness was one of those issues she was trying to figure out a solution to. It was great while in the moment but afterward there was a distinct odor that stayed and it was not something that people generally overlooked. While pulling the shirt from her body just enough that it allowed some air to move between her skin and the material she raised a brow.
“Nice night for a run.” Perhaps she needed it more than whatever was going on that called for her immediate presence. There were no blood spills visible and no flames needing to be put out. If it was urgent before it must have been downgraded in the process of her making her way there.“So, what is going on?”
While she waited for an answer she looked around then took a seat. She figured she earned it and hopefully she would be able to be comfortable while Trahir offered up what had her running wild to get there. So far things appeared like they should. Nicolette was absent but that was no surprise. She likely was off completeing some task he had for her that would be completed to the very last detail with perfection and his pleasure as a motivator.It was time for the woman to get a raise now that she thought about it. Did she dare ask where she was? Of course she did.
“Where is Nicolette?”
Shadow dark eyes stared over at him. She hopefully had not heard the last of the female that was a valuable employee to her business and an efficient assistant to the vampire who had yet to break his silence. The woman was constantly concerned she would disappoint the one who she desired to please in ways Dominique herself could not begin to comprehend. For all of her efforts Nicolette was also repeatedly reminded that she was disposable. Dominique felt her eyes slowly narrow as she waited for his lips to move.
"Trahir?"
Carefully she stepped around to come in front of him and didn’t allow anything to slip from her focus while fixing her eyes on him. The scent of lioness was one of those issues she was trying to figure out a solution to. It was great while in the moment but afterward there was a distinct odor that stayed and it was not something that people generally overlooked. While pulling the shirt from her body just enough that it allowed some air to move between her skin and the material she raised a brow.
“Nice night for a run.” Perhaps she needed it more than whatever was going on that called for her immediate presence. There were no blood spills visible and no flames needing to be put out. If it was urgent before it must have been downgraded in the process of her making her way there.“So, what is going on?”
While she waited for an answer she looked around then took a seat. She figured she earned it and hopefully she would be able to be comfortable while Trahir offered up what had her running wild to get there. So far things appeared like they should. Nicolette was absent but that was no surprise. She likely was off completeing some task he had for her that would be completed to the very last detail with perfection and his pleasure as a motivator.It was time for the woman to get a raise now that she thought about it. Did she dare ask where she was? Of course she did.
“Where is Nicolette?”
Shadow dark eyes stared over at him. She hopefully had not heard the last of the female that was a valuable employee to her business and an efficient assistant to the vampire who had yet to break his silence. The woman was constantly concerned she would disappoint the one who she desired to please in ways Dominique herself could not begin to comprehend. For all of her efforts Nicolette was also repeatedly reminded that she was disposable. Dominique felt her eyes slowly narrow as she waited for his lips to move.
"Trahir?"
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Trahir Trahison
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Re: When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)
Where was Nicolette? The was a very good question. Trahir had sent a text an hour ago at the same time he sent one to Jane telling her he needed her there. She’d not arrived before his mate who, in Trahir’s estimation had ran the distance, likely from her tattoo parlor. This is Harper Rock, a million things could go wrong in a day. In an hour? Forty thousand plus. He couldn’t and wouldn’t waste time thinking about or dwelling on the fate of a human when there were six billion of them in the world who could be enthralled to take the tattooed beauty’s place.
His hands were folded as he sat in silence while Jane inquired about Nicolette. She likely didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation. That was expected in a way. Jane was much more optimistic and open about things than Trahir was. She had her emotions, she reacted to them. That would, in this case likely be problematic as Trahir had news that didn’t have an up-side. He kept his fingers interlaced, his eyes facing forward as he finally opened his mouth to speak, drawing in a long inhalation of air, otherwise unnecessary to fill decrepit and mostly useless lungs.
“My journal has been taken. I have tracked the thieves to their homes… mostly. Somewhere along the line one managed to escape my notice. Three did not. They are in residential areas and I am obviously not invited to enter.”
He falls silent for a pause then sighs, a rare showing of exasperation on his part, and looks over to Jane. “I need your help to regain possession of the journal. It is… fairly incriminating.”
Trahir has always, since his turning been one to underplay the severity of a situation, both to show the lack of effect other people’s actions have on him and to avoid showing the true value things have to him. He had carefully over time cultivated a poker face of sorts which was worn eternally on his countenance. This time was no exception. He glanced over for the first time to his mate. and gave a slight nod, as if in acknowledgement of the fact that he had actually uttered the words he had just said.
“They have names… places.”
With that he turns his eyes back to his steepled fingers and waits for the inevitable.
His hands were folded as he sat in silence while Jane inquired about Nicolette. She likely didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation. That was expected in a way. Jane was much more optimistic and open about things than Trahir was. She had her emotions, she reacted to them. That would, in this case likely be problematic as Trahir had news that didn’t have an up-side. He kept his fingers interlaced, his eyes facing forward as he finally opened his mouth to speak, drawing in a long inhalation of air, otherwise unnecessary to fill decrepit and mostly useless lungs.
“My journal has been taken. I have tracked the thieves to their homes… mostly. Somewhere along the line one managed to escape my notice. Three did not. They are in residential areas and I am obviously not invited to enter.”
He falls silent for a pause then sighs, a rare showing of exasperation on his part, and looks over to Jane. “I need your help to regain possession of the journal. It is… fairly incriminating.”
Trahir has always, since his turning been one to underplay the severity of a situation, both to show the lack of effect other people’s actions have on him and to avoid showing the true value things have to him. He had carefully over time cultivated a poker face of sorts which was worn eternally on his countenance. This time was no exception. He glanced over for the first time to his mate. and gave a slight nod, as if in acknowledgement of the fact that he had actually uttered the words he had just said.
“They have names… places.”
With that he turns his eyes back to his steepled fingers and waits for the inevitable.
Tribulation brings enlightenment...
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Dominique
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Re: When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)
His journal had names and places.
The thought was like a bomb dropping she would have never expected. She didn't even know he had a journal. Then again why would she? If that was not enough to grasp and sink in then there was the matter that the record that should never have went from pen in hand to paper was also missing. While her jaw tightened her eyes bore down into his hands as if there were hidden hooks in her piercing stare that would sink in and tug them apart. She had an issue with any eyes on the face she was conversing with drifting away from her own. It was a huge red flag when she did it. The fact he wasn’t looking at her had warning written all over it.
“How in the hell did anyone know where you keep your journal?” The pressure fixing her jaws together was sending her teeth up and down into the healthy pink gumline tightening around each one. “What do you mean they have names and places?”
Her body slid forward and her hands curled at the edge of the leather covered cushion beneath her. A slow boil was working its way to the surface faster than she was comfortable with. It took a lot to get her upset but Trahir had a way of making it so simple that part of her was wondering if that in fact was his goal to begin with. Her lids locked down and briefly she was lost in the darkness that opened around her.
This was not a good thing no matter how she looked at it in the minimal time her eyes stayed hidden behind their respective lids. He expected her to throw some verbal tirade and yet he also expected her to help him retrieve it. Maybe a little of both would happen. But before that came about there were things she expected and she wasn't moving until she got it.
“I am waiting for answers.”
While she did she counted down in her head hoping to achieve some semblance of calm despite the growing tension building beneath her skin. If it wasn’t one thing with the vampire from an entirely different headspace than her own then it was certainly another. Nothing was simple with Trahir and she knew it never would be. He was a walking Pandora’s Box and there were parts of her that wondered if opening it was her fate and demise all in one.
The thought was like a bomb dropping she would have never expected. She didn't even know he had a journal. Then again why would she? If that was not enough to grasp and sink in then there was the matter that the record that should never have went from pen in hand to paper was also missing. While her jaw tightened her eyes bore down into his hands as if there were hidden hooks in her piercing stare that would sink in and tug them apart. She had an issue with any eyes on the face she was conversing with drifting away from her own. It was a huge red flag when she did it. The fact he wasn’t looking at her had warning written all over it.
“How in the hell did anyone know where you keep your journal?” The pressure fixing her jaws together was sending her teeth up and down into the healthy pink gumline tightening around each one. “What do you mean they have names and places?”
Her body slid forward and her hands curled at the edge of the leather covered cushion beneath her. A slow boil was working its way to the surface faster than she was comfortable with. It took a lot to get her upset but Trahir had a way of making it so simple that part of her was wondering if that in fact was his goal to begin with. Her lids locked down and briefly she was lost in the darkness that opened around her.
This was not a good thing no matter how she looked at it in the minimal time her eyes stayed hidden behind their respective lids. He expected her to throw some verbal tirade and yet he also expected her to help him retrieve it. Maybe a little of both would happen. But before that came about there were things she expected and she wasn't moving until she got it.
“I am waiting for answers.”
While she did she counted down in her head hoping to achieve some semblance of calm despite the growing tension building beneath her skin. If it wasn’t one thing with the vampire from an entirely different headspace than her own then it was certainly another. Nothing was simple with Trahir and she knew it never would be. He was a walking Pandora’s Box and there were parts of her that wondered if opening it was her fate and demise all in one.
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Trahir Trahison
- Registered User
- Posts: 762
- Joined: 16 Apr 2015, 19:09
- CrowNet Handle: Ahab
- Location: Looking over your shoulder
Re: When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)
A good initial question, if the answer would be moot since the thing was missing. How was somewhat irrelevant at this point. Whether he had announced where the thing was or if they had found it on the rings of Saturn the result was the same. Trahir let the question go unanswered There was nothing that would aid in the recovery of the damning manuscript to be shared by answering it. He trusted Jane enough to know he wouldn't let anyone know where it had been intentionally. She would find out when he did in all likelihood. Perhaps a rat had pushed it from it's spot in the box spring of the old, moldy bed at the farmhouse. Maybe a fadebeast had bumped it while rummaging for vampires. Perhaps it was just bad luck, material so ancient and weathered as to be insufficient to hold even the meager weight of the book wrapped in human skin which match the interior pages. He decided bringing up the books exact composition may at this point be a mistake.
Now the second question... that likely needed answering.
"I had documented some of the major events of what I consider my Requiem. My time as a vampire. It's not wquite a life you see. The term comes from a book I read. Within this Requiem there are notes. People, places, events that spin somewhat of a history of my existence. Some of those notes, such as you butchering some freeloaders camping in a closed park, were mentioned. Along with some other names of less import than your own. Regardless, the journal must be retrieved or there could be some... minor issues."
Her posture was not exactly demure and submissive. There was a tension building within her. Trahir reckoned that was to be expected when news of one's sins came shrieking out of the darkness and possibly had the chance to leap into the light.
He was as calm as ever though. His tone no different than if he had been reading her her horoscope, a sense of detachment within it made all the more ominous by the fact that he was more than implicated himself by the pages he had laid the words upon. "They also have many of Tytonidae's names. Including your sire. My names. My adopted sire's name, her mate. My childe. Addresses, locations, events that could be collaborated. Et cetera, et cetera".
He actually waved his hand in a circle each time he said et cetera.
"I've tracked the journal. There is a Seventy-five percent chance that it is in one of two places. Both are residential. I can not enter uninvited. It's a problem..."
Now the second question... that likely needed answering.
"I had documented some of the major events of what I consider my Requiem. My time as a vampire. It's not wquite a life you see. The term comes from a book I read. Within this Requiem there are notes. People, places, events that spin somewhat of a history of my existence. Some of those notes, such as you butchering some freeloaders camping in a closed park, were mentioned. Along with some other names of less import than your own. Regardless, the journal must be retrieved or there could be some... minor issues."
Her posture was not exactly demure and submissive. There was a tension building within her. Trahir reckoned that was to be expected when news of one's sins came shrieking out of the darkness and possibly had the chance to leap into the light.
He was as calm as ever though. His tone no different than if he had been reading her her horoscope, a sense of detachment within it made all the more ominous by the fact that he was more than implicated himself by the pages he had laid the words upon. "They also have many of Tytonidae's names. Including your sire. My names. My adopted sire's name, her mate. My childe. Addresses, locations, events that could be collaborated. Et cetera, et cetera".
He actually waved his hand in a circle each time he said et cetera.
"I've tracked the journal. There is a Seventy-five percent chance that it is in one of two places. Both are residential. I can not enter uninvited. It's a problem..."
Tribulation brings enlightenment...
-
Trahir Trahison
- Registered User
- Posts: 762
- Joined: 16 Apr 2015, 19:09
- CrowNet Handle: Ahab
- Location: Looking over your shoulder
Re: When It All Comes Down (pm for invite)
The winter in Harper Rock was a bad time for vampires, people tending to avoid hanging out late night in the cold, staying indoors in front of a warm fire with perhaps a cup of Bovril in their hands to warm their bellies after a freezing day's work in the elements. Winter brought not only a drop of temperature and a need for warmth, but a covering of white over the city. Billions of tiny crystalline shaped snowflakes littering the ground, the roofs, the streets and vehicles on them. Each one a unique little frozen crystal formed of water droplets in the frigid air.
The swirling snow created opportunities for people with malice in their heart and criminal intentions in their mind. Tracks left would be covered, lost within hours to all but the most trained eyes. The cold kept most potential witnesses in. It was a good season for the less-morally-inclined members of society to ply their trades.
A shadowy figure, tall, slim and distinctively feminine slunk through the night, The house which had garnered his attention was in a small cul-de-sac and all the lights in the neighbourhood were off. The footprints in the snow attested that she had come by way of the woods, sneaking in from outside the concrete jungle which lay spread out to the west of the small group of residences in her immediate vicinity. She was not a typical burglar out to score a haul of trinkets, odds and ends, electonics and perhaps some jewelry, no, she was of much fouler disposition than a simple their. She was out for something else. She was out for blood. Behind her back, kept neatly out of sight by her long flowing jacket was a large hunting knife. On her hip, a revolver and slung over her shoulder was a sawed-off shotgun loaded with slugs. The woman didn’t need the thing for distance of spray, she just needed it to be good in a tight space.
She was one of those known by by the authorities as armed dangerous. She had killed police officers and hunters alike even before she was bitten and made into a vampire by the woman she still didn’t know by name. She had seen the other vampire earlier, stalking a group of youths through the streets. He was well dressed, obviously not one of those who, like herself, dwelled in the maze of tunnels and crypts beneath the city streets, resting in out of the way corners, hiding from the sunlight in the odious depths of the sewers of the stagnant belly of the catacombs.
He didn’t seem the type to be desperate for prey either. He wasn’t following them for a feed. There was another reason. She wanted to know what it was. She’d cloaked herself, becoming one with the night, invisible and silent and followed him all the way from the farm up through to near the walled-off sector of the city to the docks. There when he turned and looked right at her, through her really, she had recognized his face. She had seen him before. He had hunted her, first with the band of assholes who were forever attacking her for not following a set of rules she had never agreed to, then again when she was being attacked by a psycho couple in the slums, and then a third time with his mortal toy. He seemed to be training the tattooed human to kill vampires. The rogue wondered if perhaps the human attack dog was in the house.
The rogue vampire watched Trahir head off into the docks, toward a boat. She’d followed to see which one before turning and heading of into the wood a few blocks to the east. She had then circled around out into the wilderness and approached from the east. If her footprints were followed, no doubt they would disappear in the woods.
For a long moment the rogue vampire stood, listening at the back door of the house, then quietly knelt down and picked the lock. Concentrating a moment she used her powers to break through the forbidding force that most vampires suffered when trying to enter a private residence and then she slipped inside. (38, 18)
The swirling snow created opportunities for people with malice in their heart and criminal intentions in their mind. Tracks left would be covered, lost within hours to all but the most trained eyes. The cold kept most potential witnesses in. It was a good season for the less-morally-inclined members of society to ply their trades.
A shadowy figure, tall, slim and distinctively feminine slunk through the night, The house which had garnered his attention was in a small cul-de-sac and all the lights in the neighbourhood were off. The footprints in the snow attested that she had come by way of the woods, sneaking in from outside the concrete jungle which lay spread out to the west of the small group of residences in her immediate vicinity. She was not a typical burglar out to score a haul of trinkets, odds and ends, electonics and perhaps some jewelry, no, she was of much fouler disposition than a simple their. She was out for something else. She was out for blood. Behind her back, kept neatly out of sight by her long flowing jacket was a large hunting knife. On her hip, a revolver and slung over her shoulder was a sawed-off shotgun loaded with slugs. The woman didn’t need the thing for distance of spray, she just needed it to be good in a tight space.
She was one of those known by by the authorities as armed dangerous. She had killed police officers and hunters alike even before she was bitten and made into a vampire by the woman she still didn’t know by name. She had seen the other vampire earlier, stalking a group of youths through the streets. He was well dressed, obviously not one of those who, like herself, dwelled in the maze of tunnels and crypts beneath the city streets, resting in out of the way corners, hiding from the sunlight in the odious depths of the sewers of the stagnant belly of the catacombs.
He didn’t seem the type to be desperate for prey either. He wasn’t following them for a feed. There was another reason. She wanted to know what it was. She’d cloaked herself, becoming one with the night, invisible and silent and followed him all the way from the farm up through to near the walled-off sector of the city to the docks. There when he turned and looked right at her, through her really, she had recognized his face. She had seen him before. He had hunted her, first with the band of assholes who were forever attacking her for not following a set of rules she had never agreed to, then again when she was being attacked by a psycho couple in the slums, and then a third time with his mortal toy. He seemed to be training the tattooed human to kill vampires. The rogue wondered if perhaps the human attack dog was in the house.
The rogue vampire watched Trahir head off into the docks, toward a boat. She’d followed to see which one before turning and heading of into the wood a few blocks to the east. She had then circled around out into the wilderness and approached from the east. If her footprints were followed, no doubt they would disappear in the woods.
For a long moment the rogue vampire stood, listening at the back door of the house, then quietly knelt down and picked the lock. Concentrating a moment she used her powers to break through the forbidding force that most vampires suffered when trying to enter a private residence and then she slipped inside. (38, 18)
Tribulation brings enlightenment...