Path of the Vampire forum

He could feel hope tingling in his legs and arms, like the residual burst of electricity, some time after a shock. Azraeth had been around for long enough to know that the only thing that usually motivated vampires into working together was to kill something. The illusion this created was that their kind were proactive, but the truth was that every passing year only left the denizens of Harper Rock closer and closer to exposure. The method, he key tactic, was always to strike first and strike hard. While there would always be a case for violence, Az suspected that a touch of subterfuge and diplomacy would go a lot further. How did modern governments operate? Not through force, at least not the most powerful ones. Intimidation, spying, carefully said placating words. Power only came from force in a world where there was no media, no education, and lacking communication systems.

Harper Rock was a locus of vampiric activity, a hive ready to burst. Before the return of the elders, vampires had been unafraid to spread all over the globe. In those days, they could be killed as well, seemingly permanently. Of course secrecy was easy to enforce, when you only had a few vampires to a large population of humans, and bad eggs could be tossed in the proverbial trash. But that wasn't the reality vampires lived with in Harper Rock, and continuing to act like it was, was silly.

But the meeting wasn't about secrecy, and it wasn't just about vampires. He wasn't going to let his own shortsightedness cloud the discussion, so he kept his tongue in check and decided not to start off the conversation. Besides, he was fairly sure Nemesis had a few choice thoughts. Instead, Az moved to sign his name on the paper, and ceased to be Az. Or rather. He took on a second identity, that of Moros, the newly born member of A.R.E.S.. He continued waited near the paper, so he could watch as people signed, mainly so he knew how to address people properly. He didn't want to have to point and go 'hey you.' And quite a few people filtered in, more of a crowd than Moros considered might attend.

He felt the faintest of paranoid thoughts creep long fingers around his heart. Could he trust these people? His jaw gritted for a moment. Prima facie consideration of working with a team; you had to be willing to actually give a modicum of trust. He breathed, chest expanding. Now the real trouble. Who would really be team players? The anonymity, at least, removed the impetus for the less courageous of the gathered group to panic.

Nemesis spoke then, with a clear voice, laying things out in terminology that was as blunt as it was, in the experience of Moros, relatable. There were many truths that went unsaid amongst the supernatural.

Moros let arms fold over his chest as if he were afflicted by the chill. Late night in February, in Canada, could be brutal. He watched the others as Nemesis spoke, and noted the human fiddling with a phone. He was keenly aware he should have been worried about what might happen if the whole thing was being filmed, he wasn't. The whole trust thing again. A voice came from the device, feminine but unfamiliar. It seemed A.R.E.S. had grown one number stronger. Not just a name on a sheet, but a commitment to make things happen. Moros openly smiled. It was nice, for once, to not have a fight on his hands. That seemed to always be the response to new ideas, or structure. He recalled years before when Chad had been around and the Worthingtons had attempted to find some sort of purpose.

Most vampires knew how that had ended. The lineage had gone to shambles, and was widely regarded as a joke. What most people didn’t know was why. The very simple truth had been that there were too many cooks in the kitchen. Chad had been trying to lead, and appoint other people to lead. Silver Argent, Scorpia, Perry, Nikolae, Etienne, Mortll; and those were just the names he could remember. There had been factions within factions within factions. The Dragomir had stood solidly through most of it, before the politics had grown disgustingly arduous, and they had gone into a sort of seclusion. The problem with the Worthingtons had been that everyone had a lot of self-motivation and not a lot of reason to work as a team. Everyone wanted a piece of the pie, but nobody wanted to do the baking. So it had crumbled into the shadow it currently was.

The Worthingtons were a microcosm of the whole supernatural world, in that way.

A man who had signed his name as Argonaut spoke next. First, Moros mentally applauded the mythological reference, which somewhat matched both his and Nemesis's. Second, Moros listened. "I think you raise a good set of points." He finally said. "From a structural point of view, I think it's necessary, if we are going to get anything accomplished, everyone feel comfortable in speaking and relating their experiences. More importantly, nothing of any serious impact can be done by a single individual, so thank you for starting the conversation rolling." He started.

Az had broken into government facilities before. He'd been at the White Hall as well, though his own endeavours there had been fruitless. Not that it mattered anymore. He had broken into corporate compounds as well, which could be just as heavily guarded as a military facility, depending on the group involved. "I think what you're asking for is strategy, and that's exactly why we're here. Personally, I think the specifics should be discussed more rigorously at a later date. However, I think you're exactly right. Attacking a military base head on is a terrible idea, but there is, as the saying goes, more than one way to skin a cat. I think our supernatural community has suffered too long under the delusion that violence is the key to success."

He lightly cleared his throat. He felt like someone had shoved an epipen right into his heart. He could almost taste the adrenaline and the nerves. He wasn't a public speaker. It had been easier as Superbia. One flesh abiding, strong and unifying. The message had been so easy then. A clear voice and a challenge. But then Superbia had died and the Daughters of Destiny had ceased to function. And Az had come back, with the same foibles that came with having spent most of his life as an introverted nerdboy. "My point is that we have had some five years to build a power base within Harper Rock. In that time, we could have enthralled numerous people in power. Our Mayor is himself a thrall. We could have built careful alliances between the right communities. Formed symbiotic bonds. We could have done any number of things, and haven't, because we are like a shattered mirror. I'm willing to listen to ideas. I want us to do something of value, something to actually prepare for the future rather than just survive."

He could almost feel his voice wavering there towards the end, and knew his gumption was flagging. "Anyway, yes. We should come up with a real strategy, maybe even a few. Maybe even bigger plans. We should do something other than let everyone else have the power to evoke change, while we languish." And then he was done, because he'd said what he needed to say. It wasn't much, and he knew that. He had raw enthusiasm on his side though. He desired a change, and he was willing to put his own life (ha!) on the line for it. He suspected Nemesis was already working on a site for debate and discussion, and specific strategies, but Moros wasn't about to speak for him.

A woman spoke from behind an animal mask, and Moros couldn't help but nod in her direction, in agreement. While he did not personally think secrecy was destined to last, he didn't consider it his job to go down the streets firing off guns, saying 'HEY, VAMPIRES IS REAL, Y'ALL'. The issue with the 'Masquerade' as Moros saw it was that it was simultaneously shortsighted and doomed. Every year more and more pictures and videos were uploaded than every previous year, that was a fact. Eventually information would hit the web, and even if vampires were the best hackers in all of history, it just took one person downloading a copy of a video for it to be redistributed and go viral. Edward Snowden. Wikileaks. If arguably the only superpower in the world could not keep its top secret information from falling into the wrong hands, what made the vampires of Harper Rock think they could keep an even bigger secret? Vampires who had no central government, and no organization.

That's what they needed. Organization. And if secrecy fell, what then? There were no backup plans. Nobody had bothered to make one. So to Moros, keeping their actions covert was vital. They needed to act in secrecy so they could lay the groundwork for the future. "I agree." He said, belatedly. "We need to plan every move carefully." He tacked on at the end. And build a power base. And grow a network. The seeds of success were gathered in the warehouse, at the very least. Time to see if they would grow to fruition.

Charlie had stood there for a moment, leaning against the wall, watching as others walked into the warehouse, some looking as though this had become a sort of halloween-esque gathering, perhaps some others might look at the people entering and believing it to be some sort of concert or rave that allowed the masks and costumes and other things that hid their true appearance. She stood there a moment longer, but then crossed the street, as she did, she glanced at a woman. She was about her height and build, but she was blond, her hair cut in a short bob, and clearly this woman not only had money but loved to flaunt it. It was then that Charlie allowed two things to happen.

First was that her hand slipped into the woman’s purse as the two passed each other, and when she pulled her hand back, clearly not even tipping off the woman of what had happened, she was pleased to see that she was now a good $200 richer. The second thing that happened was that she allowed her alter ego to come out and play - so to speak. Her long chocolate tresses shortened until it was like the woman’s bob, it even went from brunette to platinum blonde in color. Though her face was now hidden, at least from the nose up by her techy masquerade mask, her face shifted just enough to resemble the woman in detail, no longer looking like herself. Between this power, and her mask, she hoped no one would recognize her.

She slipped into the warehouse and it seemed she had been right on time, because only moments later, the door was shut behind her. Charlie didn’t jump, but her curious nature did have her head pivoting around to spot who had done it. She felt a tingle, the sort of tingle that told her she was close to someone within her true bloodline. Someone connected to the Worthington line. It was the sort of thing that made the hair on her arms raise as if she were on high alert. Charlie made her way over towards a column and leaned against it as the male began to speak. As he did, she listened, but her eyes, they moved through the crowd, wondering if she would spot anything that would tip her off as to who she may or may not have known.

Charlie could feel a bit of familiarity in the air, but it was hard to tell between all the others she knew for a fact were strangers. Then again, when her own appearance was changed as it was, she knew that they wouldn’t know her. That is, unless they were really looking for her. The male was still speaking, and as he spoke, her eyes went to a table. That table, it had a pad of paper on it, and from where she stood, she could see there was writing on it, but she couldn’t tell what. He on the other hand was clear about what he wanted, why he had brought everyone together. At least, from what she was hearing.

She watched as he spoke, moving about a bit, and then looked to the pad once more. Charlie’s appearance was so different from her own, she knew that drawing attention to her would do no real harm, and it seemed that this Nemesis believed that, at least for now, they were in the presence of those of a like mind, so she moved forward, glanced at the pad and saw the names written on them. For a moment, she wondered what name she would give herself, and as she wondered, she noticed that a male with a mask from the Ninja Turtles entered the room. Her brow lifted, though it was hidden by her own mask. Her eyes shifted back to the paper, a paper she had already recorded to memory because of her photographic memory. That is when the name came to her.

She scrawled in a messy calligraphy of sorts “Lady Pentax” and then set the pen down and made her way back to the column that she had chosen to be her ‘base’ for this meeting. Her eyes roamed around the room again, all the while listening to those that began to speak. One name called her attention, ‘Michael’. Her eyes automatically went to him, but she said nothing. And then another began to speak, someone she couldn’t and knew she most likely never would recognize. He brought up some good points. The government had things that, yes, could wipe out the vampire world, but at the same time, she still believed that there were ways they could co-exist without having to live in shadows and shame just for the respect of mortals.

A soft sigh left her parted lips before she fell silent and listened as another began to speak. Her eyes shifted towards the new voice and again, she felt a sort of connection - weak though it was - to the person. Perhaps another Worthington. She would never know. That much she was pretty much sure of. She had not seen hide nor hare of the Dragomir line since their last meeting, but perhaps, that wasn’t totally their fault. He spoke, so she listened to what he had to say, though it was nothing really of importance other than to thank the other person for getting the ball rolling. Well, that and that they needed to plan, and plan well, and plan carefully.

There was a slight roll of her eyes though, he had been right about other things as well. They could have done so much more, but how could they when they were too busy killing each other over the trivial things. Things like ‘keeping secret’ what they were. As he mentioned that the new mayor was a thrall, that had caught her attention. A thrall, in power of this city. That meant that the city was pretty much under the control of one vampire yet again. Like that blasted Crow she had heard had gone into hiding. Perhaps that was who was the master to the thrall. One could never tell, and she had a feeling they probably never would.

Her eyes once again took in the people that were standing and sitting about. She recorded every look every fidget, every move about the room to memory. She could and likely would recall in in the privacy of her home and make a mental note about everyone, see if she could spot those things in the normal night to night lives of those around her. It was one of those things that would keep her mind busy. Though she rarely looked it anymore, she was always thinking, hacking, creating things without really moving a muscle. She crossed her arms across her chest as she continued to watch everyone.

She wanted to help, and she likely would, but she wanted to make sure that she was not outed, that she was not going to get stabbed in the back or betrayed. The only way that happened? Is that she did not speak. Would not speak, would not give herself away and give the enemy the ammo needed to send her back to the shadow realm. Assholes.

‘Nemesis’ began to speak and Charlie turned her masked eyes towards him, following him as he moved as he talked about being outmaneuvered. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that, of course they were being outmaneuvered at every chance, because they were all too busy fighting and bickering against one another because they were all power hungry jackasses that wished to make the weaker of the species bow down and kiss their lily white asses. If you didn’t play ball, they killed you, or hunted you, or did other ****. That was why vampires were ‘outmaneuvered’ time and time again. They preferred to bully their own kind into following old and out of date rules rather than concentrate on those that were the true enemy. Those that wished to experiment on them, those that wished them harm because they feared the power that they were given. If done correctly, she still believed that they could co-exist without having to live in shame and shadows. But was this right?

As he began to speak about the fact that they were so much more than fighting, she almost laughed out. She agreed, of course, but at the same time, she knew that many of the ‘vampire’ world were only about fighting, drawing blood, making those they claim to be unworthy bow down before them or kill them if they didn’t bow. Kill them if they tried to fight back. It was laughable to her, but she refrained from laughing at this point in time. She pulled her thoughts back to the here and now, and concentrated on what he was saying, that they needed to get in there, she smirked a bit, that was something that she was good at - so long as no one asked any questions - hell, she was sure at least those that paid attention would notice the fact that she seemed human, though she was far from that, had been for years.

He spoke of how they knew of their tricks, and she gave a small shake of her head. Of course they did, people chose to fight out in the open, especially as of late. Those that claimed they wished to protect the masq so they could continue to hide in their shadows and shame. Though she had to wonder for a moment how they could actually experiment on one of their kind. The only time they were at their weakest was when they were fully drained of blood. And when they were like that, any wound, even the smallest wound, could and most likely would send them to the Shadow Realm. All that would be left for them would be ashes… unless. She remembered that those of the Killer path left their bodies behind. So, whoever they had… if they even had anyone… was likely of the Killer path.

The mention of cameras spotting them had her once again shaking her head. A thief worth their grain of salt would have cam scramblers on them, and with the cameras that couldn’t be scrambled, there were other means. Hacking of course, something she was just as good at, even better really, than thieving. All it takes is one little hack and bye bye evidence. As of late she had been spending more and more time hacking, and she had to laugh at those of whom she was finding evidence of. Those that so wished to keep the masq, to hide, to feel shame for being who they were. Still, even as she thought of this and that, she listened to what he was saying. They had to know their enemy. Of course, first they had to agree on who was the real enemy. Was it the government doing strange experimentation? Or was it those who thought the enemy was those who broke the smallest rules or refused to kiss *** and kneel before bullies. He wanted to work together, well to do that, they would have to stop killing their own kind and start turning that energy towards the ‘real’ enemy.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a girl speaking. One who seemed not only young, but innocent and naive. It almost seemed as if she wasn’t even trained in the smallest of information and in that moment, she saw herself. A girl who had been turned and then left to fend for herself. Not being taught, not being trained, not being shown the critical information that she needed to know. The idea of using a wraith or two, or even ten might work in the beginning, but wraiths could be caught, she had disabled more than enough traps, had made her own even, many in fact, clearly vampires weren’t the only ones that could get their hands on such things. Humans, both those with powers and those without, could get them and use them as well. Who’s to say that the military didn’t already have them?

Another woman spoke, and what the woman said made her smile for a moment. It was true, so many of their own kind loved, even preferred to kill their own kind rather than fight the real enemies, so really how would they know? They wouldn’t. She believed that one group in particular had to go, once they were gone, she was sure that then and only then could they see the real enemy. Those that wished to enslave and use them. Yes, what they could do could easily sway one way or the other, but that was the balance of life. With life there was death, with joy there was sorrow, with love there was hate. Balance. It could be utopia they left behind or a city of ruin and death for not just vampire kind but everyone they all loved. She sighed, but it was worth the risk.

A male began to speak next, and he was countering what the younger girl had spoke of, voicing her own thoughts that the wraiths were really pointless because they could be captured. He then went on speaking about the soldiers and how they wore heart monitors, that was something that was easily faked. Though when he mentioned killing, again she found herself rolling her eyes. Another *** that preferred to kill and draw attention instead of going at it another way. Men, they were such simple creatures. Though, she had to admit that there was the fact that they did come out of their hidey holes and they did have strength they really shouldn’t. She herself had taken samples of their DNA and have spent quite a bit of time analyzing it. Granted, she was more computer science than biology, but she had taken many courses at MIT and had the degrees to show for it, so she knew enough.

That silly male was still all about drawing blood, treating them how they treat a vampire. And sure, that way of life used to be the way. Now though, she didn’t agree. If you act like a monster, you will be treated like a monster. Hell, even human ‘monsters’ were experimented on daily by scientists. Trying to find out what makes them tick. No, the only way to be treated as a citizen of the world was to act like one. She sighed softly, shaking her head once more, knowing that it was unlikely. Unlikely because it seemed those that were turned, even if they were only a few years old seemed to take on the thoughts of vampires who lived in the days of vikings or neanderthals. Just because they were vampires, didn’t mean they were anything more than they were five or six years ago aside from powers. Or perhaps Killian didn’t pass on the trait that sent her mindset back to the middle ages?

“Infiltration would and does work, perhaps you have heard of groups such as the Illuminati or the Freemasons? They have got infiltration down to a tee, and then there are the Russians with their sleeper spies… history is littered with infiltration that worked. The secret is that you don’t just send in one person or even two or three, and you don’t just send them to one place, you send them everywhere. If infiltration is a way of going, than the best way is to send in those that won’t cause suspicion. Apparently our own mayor is a thrall. So is our chief of police.” She wasn’t going to go into how she knew that little gem. “So thralls would seem like plan A, plan B would be perhaps a vampire who perhaps seems human… smart as well… maybe with degrees… someone that they would want to do their studies. The government loves to bring in civilians in that respect, mostly because they can pay less and use them more. And of course, there should always be a plan C through Z because no plan ever goes exactly right. They always need contingencies.”

She looked to the one male who seemed to love to kill. “And the best way to infiltrate isn’t to kill and replace, killing draws attention and is always found out. No, the best way is to just add, let them live as long as possible. That said, if you want to take out the ones that come outside and come to us, more power to you dude. Hell, even I can’t deny I have had a run in with a government agent or two and seen what they can do. Everyone wants to continue to hide in shadows, fine, but if you want to infiltrate, you’ll need people who blend in even in the light. Thus, thralls. Or at least a very convincing vampire.” She looked back to the male she felt a connection to and tilted her head a little. “Also, having well trained hackers and thieves on our side will be a plan as well. Need people to always be watching those that watch us. Acting smartly is how things get done, not rashly...”

She looked back to the killer as she finished, “not deadly either unless there is no - and I mean NO - other option.” It was only then that she fell silent again and continued to lean against her column.