Path of the Vampire forum

I'm weak. I need strength. What do I lack? I lack allies. I lack power and experience. I'm healed, I have weapons, but I need something more...

He broke in to buildings. Rebellion flew through his blood. He wanted attention, the adrenaline rush. The guards came for him.

"You sure you know how to handle that weapon? Want me to show you how?"
He winked. The guard shivered as his terrible smile flashed bright with fangs, his eyes bright and slit like the ultimate predator.
The guard fell dead as the alarms echoed through the windows.

A few run-ins with some gangsters yielded an elite hunting knife and some crystal meth. He had some of it to relax, but it was only temporary. The effects were extremely temporary and unsatisfying.

He walked around town, agitated and distressed. He was losing himself but he didn't care. The two were becoming one.

He hopped the fence of the hunting grounds. His lineage sire, Chad was there. He didn't know him, but he felt it in his blood, curling over inside of him. He was intimidated, yet in awe of his majesty of grace and pure power. As he passed him, he gave him a quick "Hello, Sire" and left. He got chills down his spine from his presence. It was intoxicating...

He encountered several beasts; wolves, bears, mountain lions. He killed them all. He spent a week training and killing and relieving stress. He grew more and more with every day and every kill. The ones that got away made him fore frustrated, but made him grow more diligent and focused.

Dozens of beasts fell under his terror.

The hunting grounds were slightly popular. He hated that, but loved the competition for the kill. He passed a fellow Dragomir, Wafa, beautiful and graceful.

"Hello, Vasik" she said.

She is too delicate for this. I'll show her my power.

Day in and day out, blood spilled forth on the slick grounds in the forest. The twilight was an excellent time of day. Twilight was his favorite time of day. His fingertips were stained crimson. Sanguine. It had gotten to the point where he had simply too much bounty from his hunts that he must sell it all. His imagination ran wild as his funds accumulated. Maybe he would get an uzi. Maybe a custom knife? Maybe he would get an aluminum bat. That was his favorite. He loved his claws and a true beating, but he knew guns were more effective.

Strolling through the woods, stuck in his fantasy, he came across a strange presence. He felt uneasy. If his heart still beat, it would have stopped...


...



She was still severely injured from the human hunter's gunshot wound. It would take an immense time to heal. It hurt her so, but she needed to get her mind off of things. She grabbed a hat and made her way to the casino.

She spent all of her days as a lowly pickpocket, but it payed well in the gambling arena. He had racked up quite a bit and was saving for some self-defense equipment. She made her way to the bank... but then...



Something is amiss in the world...

A break in the story of Celestia Lunae will continue until further notice. Character account deleted.

Alert: Phoenix says: "-Gasped- A wild fiance appeared!"

Vasik was resting in the hunting grounds under the quiet company of a fellow Worthington, Malachai. He wasn't sure if the presence that flew through the trees was taunting him or the other resting fellow. He just scoffed and let it pass.

Vasik had been training day in and out for the past week. He was tired, but much stronger. Still, there was something he felt like he was lacking.

I must grow. I can feel it, I'm so much stronger now... but I need allies...

In the cafe'.
He had gotten more accustomed to conversing with the rest of his clan. Although tiresome, he searched long and hard for some connection, a sign for him. There was so much of this sense of "family" with the Dragomir, enough to make him want to puke. But he knew, strength came in numbers, and if he had to play nice, he would play nice, much unlike his first encounter with Mortll, attacking her in a high-security zone out of mania.

While browsing the CrowNet, he attempted some measly hacks that were very unsuccessful. In frustration, he growled and brought some unwanted attention.

The cops entered through the doors, and Vasik took his nonchalant leave, brooding in his head towards the new high security in the desolate little Canadian town. Vampire-phobia is growing. Vasik can't blame the humans as he treads this earth.

[[OOC]]The following is a documentation of a role play session between Shiva and Vasik on YIM. Below it I have added on Vasik's personal reaction and plan to build from it. It has been edited to fit forum context.


Shiva leaned up against a door frame as she spied him. "Hello there."

He lacked interest. He knew she was there. He simply looked over his shoulder and went back to hacking, not caring who saw him or not. Quite reckless indeed but indifferent.

With her hands in her pockets she made her way towards him, leaning over to glance at his screen while he hacked. The process was boring to her as her caste, and ironically his caste, were not suited to it.

He grew agitated. His right eyebrow curled into itself as he stumbled around the cybernet with this girl over his shoulder. His sharp nails tapped tapped tapped away as he struggled through his files working on his most successful hack yet, not quite a feat at all.

Impassively she watched, silently. Her sharp gaze turning down as he tapped and smiled feeling that she was at least part of his irritated action. The thought pleased her greatly as she began to hum hoping to increase it.

Tap, tap, tap and with a final agitated pounding on the "enter" key, the hack was done. His first successful one yet. He felt accomplished, but he knew he would get the hang of it sooner or later. He smirked a little, ignoring the girl behind him. While the bank files were downloading, he made his way to the CrowNet, hoping to spend enough time looking up bounties and writing them down so that the girl would get bored and skip off.

Watching him at work her steady gaze remained where it was, taking note of his work and refusing to leave until she'd gained at least one of her favoured outcomes. Seeing him go to the CrowNet she smirked at all the high bounties she'd already taken stock of. Killing would be good.

The more he went on the more he became disinterested in what he was doing physically and more interested in how to get rid of this chick eying him down. He took the beaten 3-inch notebook and shoved it in his pocket, smoothly got out of the chair, span around and went out the door of the cafe towards the quarantine zone gate.

Giving him a moment, then two she smiled and slowly followed him to her favourite part of the city. Idly she wondered how long it would take him to respond or what she'd have to break off to even get that much.

Hoping to lose her and hoping that she wasn't a killer, he used his superjump to scale the gates quietly without the guards noticing. He stopped for a moment, smirked, and then ran into the tainted town.

She arched her brow as he leapt and felt the baser nature surface as she took one step back and jumped after him, digging her sharp claws into the earth where she landed. A hunt? How wonderfully entertaining, she mused as she set off into the darkness following his scent.

He could smell her sent in the still air. He couldn't focus like this. He'd have to get rid of her before he could work his plan. He broke into an abandoned shop, took a chair, went to the adjacent alley, and took a seat there, looking towards the dim-lit opening waiting for her.

Finding the lock busted and door slight ajar she could smell him all over the place and see his tracks. Obviously not putting much effort to losing her she took it as some sort of sign though it had a few off-shoot options. Pushing the door open and letting it crash loudly against the wall she saw the male sitting, waiting and gave a sideways grin.

"So lovely miss. What brings you to me this fine evening? Can't resist my charm?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly as she stalked gracefully towards him. There was only the barest hint of her heels clicking with each step as she'd trained herself some stealth. "So you do have a voice."

Still quite ticked off from the intrusion to his presence, the more she walked forward the more he frowned. He started tapping his right heel from agitation, approximately three taps for every muted click of her heels, almost like an echoing waltz. He could feel himself growl on the inside ever so deeply and silently. He knew he was weak and new, but he was too stubborn to show it to the superior before him.

The same cocked smirk was still on her lips as she approached but instead of staying before him she walked around him almost eying up potential prey. "So quickly silenced once more. That will never do."

He ground his teeth. He couldn't take it anymore. With a great inhale through his clenched jaws, he lunged up, folded the chair, and lashed it out towards the stalker with a great roar.

Not having expected the attack her eyes flashed wide as he swung it towards her, smashing into her arm and making her stumble slightly as she bared her fangs. Physical reaction was something she was very keen on. Understood. Grinning darkly she leaped at him, her sharp claws outstretched.

He was tense, ready for the fight. He was unsure, but he let his brute strength and anger take the best of him. It always got him through somehow. He crouched, then lunged towards her head on.

Colliding with him she snarled, snapping her teeth at him as they fell to the ground. Her nails driving into his flesh, straight through clothing as if it weren't there.

Somehow, she had found his weak spot, his death wound he was still healing from. With a short yell, he gripped her throat with his claws and squeezed tight, hoping to sever something vital, cutting deeper and deeper. He curled up his left leg between them to kick her away from his abdomen.

The pressure of his strong fist along her throat and claws clenching was uncomfortable, painful even and though breathing wasn't necessary she still did out of habit. A gurgled growl erupted from her throat as she continued to snap her sharp teeth. her hands drew down coating the floor in red as her nails shredded his abdomen to his waist.

He knew he wasn't strong enough to win the fight, but he was pissed as hell and didn't want to give in either way. His death wound penetrated his pain tolerance heavily, but he had just enough strength to kick her away across the room.

Rolling from the kick she slipped to her knees, poised to strike again but only watched him. The lazy, cocky smile was on her lips again as she licked her fingertips of his blood. She'd remember his scent and taste wherever she found it now. "You're a fun one."

He was only able to hoist himself on an elbow and he cringed, cradling the area around his heavily scarred wound. Breathing deeply in anger, he glared at her from the top of his eyes, growling enough to be heard now.

His growl had her smile widen as she rose up and walked back towards him slowly, crouching down a few feet from where he was, out of his reach but close enough as she studied him. Her red eyes going to his wound, admiring his blood, before meeting his own eyes. "Now, now buttercup. You started this fight I thought you wanted to play."

He was stupid, but he didn't care. He was impulsive, and not in the mood. He restrained the urge to spit on her due to his innate chivalry, but he remained silent as he sat upwards, waiting for her to continue her taunts.

She sighed watching him, standing and dusting herself off. "I came to introduce myself but since you decided to be a prick about it I followed you instead." She walked over to the chair he had thrown, picking it up, unfolding and sitting on it while crossing her legs. "Shiva, not that you give a damn."

You're right, I don't." He got to his feet and started walking towards the door. "**** off. I'm busy."

"Mouthy ******** aren't you? You didn't look too busy with your little toy there. Maybe you should work on your attacks instead of goofing off like a dumbass."

Knowing he was terribly outmatched, he used all of his willpower to shrug off the comment and leave the shop. He knew she would follow. He had to think of a way to lose her without fighting. The only way would be to go back to "civilization" and lose her in a crowd. He would have to spread his scent everywhere along the way to distract her, but he calculated that would take too much energy. He walked around the corner in the darkening twilight, meditating on kicking an open cup down the street as he thought.

She watched him go before slowly licking the rest of his blood from her hands. She considered rising and following behind him but in all honesty she had no real desire for such nonsense. She'd tried to be social and had wanted to ask him a question but his attitude dulled the slight intrigue of the fight, weighing him in the 'boring' category. Rather disappointed she left the place and went hunting for zombies to ease her frustration.

He faintly heard her heels behind him. He turned to see her walking away. Was it a trick? Was he paranoid? He couldn't focus on the future, only the now. If she wasn't going to follow like an inoperable tumor, he could work out his plan. He went to the town and searched for his bounties. He knew the good people, those that sought redemption in the fields of zombies and killing the little vermin. He wanted their heads. For fun. For pleasure. For the irony of them trying to redeem themselves but giving their location away. He adored irony, and antagonistic intentions at that. The thought of cop-killers looking for redemption wailing in pain under him aroused him. He made one with the shadows and went deeper into the city.



"How dare she..."
Splatter.
The zombies brains splattered across the abandoned fire department's blackened brick wall.
"Stupid *****..."
Thud.
The zombie's entrails decorated the gravestones in the graveyard. Tainted testaments to human lives.
"**** her!"
Splash.
The zombie's coagulated blood accented the street sidewalk, already stained with several other fights before. His combat boots were covered in the scum of the remains he had conquered for the last hour.

For the second time, he was put in his place once more. He was angry and upset. He needed control. He dare not fight those on the bounty alone through what he had just experienced. His powers had grown exceedingly so the past couple of weeks, but it wasn't enough. He had to catch up somehow.
He needed manipulation. He needed allies.

Crack.
A zombies' skull was shattered under Vasik's tremendous blow.
"I'm not getting anything from this ********. I'm heading back to the hunting grounds where I can at least get SOMETHING."
He leaped like a gazelle over the quarantine gates ever so silently, still covered in grime.


His inventory was crowded from spoils. He went to sell them and buy more hacking equipment. Maybe through his mind training he would gain intelligence and speechcraft of which he so desired. While taking a break after his afternoon hack, he browsed the CrowNet for anything exciting to be heard.
He saw something, or rather someone of interest...

"Myk..."

Vasik typed up a quick email and sent the pm to this stranger, Myk. After reading for what seemed like hours on the forums, he had found some glimmer of hope. Some sort of sign. Myk seemed like an easily swayed specimen, a telepath at that. Oh, how he desired being a bender of minds, whether an allurist or a telepath. But he could not deny that being a killer what how he was meant to be. Instead, he must find others to do his work for him.

He was restless. He wanted a reply. He wanted to meet this Myk. He grew irritable.

There was so much environmental, both mental and physical, stress on him now. He had to de-stress somehow. He felt like he was back in the beginning with no where to go.

He went to the Worthington and Dragomir forums. Oh how he loathed them so. They're so pretentious and loving and family-cuddly helping each other together in an army of caring. It repulsed him. He hated them. He had to admit that such a large body of vampires banded together was an unstoppable force, but he couldn't take being a part of something he didn't control. It would be easier if the Worthingtons weren't as large or strong, because they would be easier to avoid or ignore. Yet, he somehow felt he depended on them. He wasn't sure why...

"Nick Bowstrong, now that's a guy I'd like to meet." He read the farewells of Nick to the Worthington clan, a formidable enough force and well-respected enough to take a leave from his lineage.

Sex. Drugs. Alcohol. He needed something. The world weighed him down. This life was meant to be something better...
Vasik logged off and went outside, slowly making his way to nowhere.

She's gone, I know it...
I don't even give a damn anymore. Just leave me be.

Logan was dying.
Vasik had total control now. Ever since Celestia disappeared off of the map, Vasik grew to be the sanity of the body rather than the possession. He was liking it very much.

But somehow, he made it back to his abandoned shop. His feet, step by step, innately lead him there. He was visibly very confused when he looked up and realized where he was. He made his way inside.

Clunk, clunk went his boots on the ground until he reached the pile of glass from his many alcoholic beverages. Crunch... crunch... crunch... crunch on the glass...

Then, he stopped. Straight posture but sagged shoulders, he stared down at the low, splintered coffee table and the torn-up couch. Everything was silent for a few seconds, still as a photograph.

He paused and reflected on what had happened since then. It had been so long. Between the siring and his last visit here, he had lived the "life." Women, sex, drugs, booze. Now, he was fighting. Fighting for his dignity. For power. And control. What was he doing? He was stuck... Just... stuck.

He focused on the blood he left behind. The ink and tattered papers. He felt the urge to burn this place down, but he felt too attached, like a teenager to his teddybear, a duckling to its mother. This was somehow his comfort, but he couldn't let it go. The imprint was just enough powerful, it was annoying.

What's wrong with me? What... what's going on?

A mouse had found her way through the broken floorboards. She scuddled around, following the baseboards of the wall on the opposite side. Vasik would not look down at her. She sniffled, scurried, and made her way to the massive, dark monolith that was his right shoe. She found a shoelace and started chewing, a cute scritching sound in the lonely grey atmosphere. She found some zombie residue near the heel, tried it, and the sneezed. She obviously didn't take a liking to it.

The tiny sneeze alerted his senses. If he were a cat, one would have noticed his ears twitching towards the sound like a set of soft, silent satellite dishes. He finally looked down upon the poor creature, unknowing of the presence of the dark and powerful fiend above her.

He took his left thumb and index finger and delicately picked up the mouse by its tail. The sad and desperate squeaking was muted by the fogged windows in the cold air.

He examined the poor beast, spun it around in his hands. He lifted it above his head and made the mouse stare into his blank eyes. As soon as the small rodent captured his gaze. All went silent. Was it fear or connection?

Seconds lasted for hours.

Vasik opened his mouth, revealing his fangs to the poor creature. She began to scream her little squeals once more when she saw the terrible canines as big as her head coming closer.

Then...

He let out a yawn.

He collapsed on the couch with no regards to the comfort of his passenger. After he galumphed on the couch, He delicately placed the mouse on his dirtied-up white shirt. The mouse, extremely frightened, circled around ever so slowly before sniffing around and venturing the hills of his abs. She started to chew at the hems of the sleeve of his leather jacket. She ventured her way down and saw an opening in a slightly baggy pocket. Knowing the gnawing powers of the rodent, Vasik took caution. With his free arm, he cupped his hand around his groin, afraid this awfully small, insignificant being could cause a slight bit of pain to a terrible vampire. He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to find out.

Was he soft, or playing with the small animal for kicks? Was it Logan or Vasik? What was it he was feeling inside?

He closed his eyes, focusing on the bitty footsteps of the tender paws, now to the left of his bellybutton. He stretched his left arm over his eyes and laid his right hand on his chest next to the quiet, investigating animal.

Then, he heard a voice. A beautiful girl's voice. A music box in his head, just as before...


It lulled him. From the crevice his arm made with his eyes, a small, delicate drop of water streamed down as he fell into his slumber.

Music Track:
Click http://soundcloud.com/dgreening/dave-greening-lullaby for ambient music to accompany this entry.

He woke up to his screaming in a sweat. Could vampires sweat? Apparently so. Gasping for breath, he was frightened by his surroundings, afraid the sun would come, but all was dark. Calm, quiet, and dark.

He could still see orange. So much orange. It eventually faded away into the black he so desired. Black, it comforted him. It cradled him. It kept him safe and cold. Cold was his warmth. Cool, calm, collected against his fiery hair. His fiery moods. His fiery will. It was his opposite. It was his balance. Night was a comforting hand that stroked his smooth skin. She was a silky blanket that was personified in protection.

All was silent, except for the quiet breathing of a comforting animal on his chest. He saw with his precise night vision, his reflective cat-like eyes, slit with the Dragomir eyelids, that the little mouse companion had awaken from his startling. She blinked in her eyes, looked at him, and then curled back down to sleep in his breast.

He somehow felt protected by this beast. Maybe she was the night. Maybe this poor little creature was the spirit of the fall of the sun. Maybe it is not a wolf that chases the sun but a mouse?

Maybe she would ward off his nightmares...

He went back to sleep, even though it was night, the vampire's day.

Dreaming as if a child... slumbering in sweat and comfort...