Path of the Vampire forum

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"
Trahir Trahison: His deep roars filled the house, the lioness staring him down from down the hallway caused two huge paws to tread forward, two more following and his head to shake, sending his dark mane billowing out. The action of course to add further proof to the female lion before him that he is too big for her to want to challenge. There is something else though, a stirring within him he has not felt in months… Trahir fights down the animal instinct. What the hell was that? The emotionless Killer knows exactly what that was, a base reaction to a female of the same species before him when she had began to lower her body down to the floor. When she raised back up though a new desire filled him. His thoughts were foggy. There was too much rage and desire in this form.

Time to channel it. He rushes forward another two steps toward Dominique, his lips pulling back as he roars at her once more, three inch canines bared back all the way to the gums. The message is clear. Back down *****!.

Dominique: The roar of warning was enough that it hazed her plan of attack. Her body stepped back as his moved forward much like an orchestrated dance she was taking part in for the first time. Two feet back and the annoying pressure on her back that otherwise would have brought her lower to the ground was reducing. It was her space. She would have killed for less.

To the right she moved silently while her teeth also came to view. She snarled with the powerful growl building within. Again she paced back to the left and kept those golden wild eyes fixed on him. There was a moment she moved in and with it brought forth a final roar. He would feel it's message in a blast of cool air through his flowing mane. And with that she stepped back out of instinct and put distance again between them and waited lowering to the ground in preparation. If he made the wrong move she would make the right one.

Trahir Trahison: The large male lion almost seemed to lose interest. It has been said that you are nobody until a cat has ignored you. In truth he isn’t ignoring the lioness before him, it’s all part of the same approach. Trahir is allowing the instincts that came with this new form to guide him. He licks his chops and looks around, a low rumble coming out from his mouth that seems to be half growl, half moan, all questioning. A call to the lioness in front of him while his eyes purposely scan around everywhere but on her for the moment. Putting both paws before him he gives a languid stretch, the most unconcerned gesture possible at the moment and then straightens, his eyes finally moving to her.

He give another roar in her direction and settles into a stand-off that can’t last.

Dominique: Tawny ears flipped back in irritation as the maned beast leisurely stretched in front of her. Only he would be so bold. She lifted up when his roar sounded yet again. A return of her ears perking forward signaled her attention. Could she really do this? So much of her said it was going to happen. It had already begun. The hunger, the confirmation of blood, the kills and now the stand off.

Golden eyes stayed with Trahir's lion while she took a few steps around him, her long tail posturing with heightened caution. The desire to tear him apart had found a back seat to the sweet scent of blood that always seemed to accompany him.

Dominique moved slowly and as she did her steps seemed lighter. The rise of her body was again fluid in its shift. The fur moved into material and the sounds of her sharp heels clicked in announcement that the standoff had ended.

The shadow ached as as her body settled to stand looking at the lion in her presence. He could respond in kind or take his free shot at tearing her apart. There was nothing more to gain from the fighting what would take place whether he was there or not. Eventually she would hunt just as the lioness within her was destined to, designed to do. It was a call for her to act that would no longer be ignored.

"Ready when you are."

Dominique was hardly going to comment on what just happened. It would take most of the following night to figure it out... If she really could. She watched him closely while ditching the remote that she found on the floor abandoned during her recent change. Thank gods she at least had something to work with when that happened. With her luck she was more likely to expect turning into a chipmunk or a koala bear. A lioness was a crowning moment.

"Take your time." She sent HOPE into her hair to move whatever haphazard strands back into place that had lost their original spot.

Trahir Trahison: The lion looks at the woman with it’s golden gaze. It shakes its head once, throwing it’s mane out again and stretches once once before shifting into the more familiar form of the vampire Trahir. “Good. I already told you I was thirsty.” He closes the distance between them and reaches down, taking her chin in his hand and turning her head to the side, examining her jaw, nods and steps back. The makeup is fine, the skin underneath no longer reddened from the earlier contact with his palm. He notes that. He’s never given a vampire such a minor injury and noted the healing time. He’ll have to see about capturing a fledgling to test some things perhaps.

“You really do look very nice. I like the dress,” he says as he steps back.

Dominique: Her eyes lift and as his cool hand takes her chin. She allows her face to follow the lead without losing eye contact. There was no shame in this moment. She was to choose her battles wisely. And that she most certainly had. Her hands smoothed down the material beneath her open palms. How she still had clothing on after the shifting she had no clue. It was not something she would be asking the one looking at her. Doc perhaps. Maybe later.

"Thank you." There he was clothing and all still looking like he had walked out of one of those silver screen movies she used to fall asleep while watching. "You dress up nicely."

Dominique didn't wear the expression on the outside but inside she winced. That was all she could come up with? Then again she did want to kill him moments ago. That could change again and surely she would be back to coming up with a lot to say.

Trahir Trahison: It is not like him to strike another vampire. His time with Tytonidae along with scrubbing away his mortal memories teamed with his belief that vampires are asexual in nature as far as reproduction goes alleviates any potential for guilt at striking a woman. Jane is just as capable a killer as he is after all, not a simpering human female who only seem to grow a spine when either their offspring are threatened or the potential exists to cause a scene.

Usually the latter he thinks to himself.

What he says is simply, “You are most welcome, and thank you. Shall we?” He offers his left arm and motions toward the door with his right.

Dominique: HOPE reaches up and slides through the space between his arm and his body.Her petite fingers curl and fix gently to hold their spot.

"Yes." The shadow stepped forward as he did. "You are welcome as well."

Strange twists and turns had taken place. All of which [happened in less than an hour. Before that much of the same had filled the last several weeks. Perhaps it was proof that by choosing to step back she was taking two steps forward. Time would tell. Hours of this night were still left to decide.

Trahir Trahison: Leading Dominique to the circular passenger door of the Rolls Royce, Trahir reaches out and opens the door for her, stepping aside with a small bow. “My lady, your chariot awaits.”

The Killer waits for her to seat herself before closing her door and walking around the front of the car to the driver’s side and getting in himself. “I had thought to take you to Silk’s, a strip club owned and operated by a friend of mine but I believe you may be ready for a live hunt. What do you think Jane?”

Dominique: "I have hunted before. It was alive until I got my hands on it." Her eyes darted to meet his then quickly left to take in the luxurious interior of the rare car she was seated in. "It takes little skill in hunting really. All one needs in this case is an appetite, correct?"

Again she found her focus moving back to him. A slow assessing sweep of her eyes registered more than he likely knew she was making note of. For the night where she was to call the shots he seemed to be comfortable planning ahead. She rolled her eyes to the passenger side window and watched her property slowly fade into the darkness.

"Why would that be your first thought of where to take me?" Now she imagined where all those scantily clad cupcakes on the missing posters went. "No thanks. I was there once to use the bathroom. That is about as useful as the place was to me. You and your friend can meet up later on your time."

Dark orbs narrowed down through the dimly lit interior of the vehicle hoping to have made her point. She wasn't exactly sure what she expected and in the end it didn't really matter. This was an odd situation any way she looked at it. There really was no way to categorize such. It really wasn't dinner, it wasn't a date. It was about going to find a vein and proving what? Yeah, there was no way to sum that up.

"You feel like this is worth all the trouble and time, Trahir?" She fiddled with the front of her jacket then while thinking of texting Doc it suddenly occurred to her to ask. "I have a more important question and would like an answer. Is Doc involved in this?"

Trahir Trahison: He raised a single eyebrow as she began speaking, watching her as if trying to analyze the way her mind bounced from the choice of locale for her hunt to her sire and everything in between. She was an interesting study, her reactions were like no single person Trahir could remember meeting. Violent one moment, demure the next. She was...

He snaps out of his internal assessment of Dominique and shakes his head, working the topics backward. "Your sire is as involved as you make him. I have spoken with Doctor Nilsen only enough to know he believes he is owed a new car. I would assume the events of tonight thus far would irk him. No one likes their childer being struck."

The next topic he simply nods, "I see you as potentially one of the most interesting vampires in the city. Is it worth the hassle of watching you realize that and evolve? Yes. I would say so."

The club, she wanted to know why there? "That club is known as a haven for both humans and vampires. Some of the human clientele there are likely blood dolls. It's a safe place for a first live feeding. I prefer a true hunt. I select a type of prey and then seek them out, split them from the rest of the herd and take them down. There is skill involved in succeeding without repercussions... such as witnesses."

Dominique: The mention of the car had her lip twitch subtly. The mustang was hers. Doc had an obsession with it ever since he got his hands on it. However, her sire was right. It would be replaced. It was highly unlikely it would be possible to find one identical to replace the beauty. Trahir would have to settle that with her in the form of a car that would be equally suitable if such a thing was possible.

"Forget about him. You owe me a car." Dominique had no issue with being direct and to the point. "One that gives me a comparable satisfaction as the mustang did. You have your work cut out for you. That car took me places that nothing else ever could. I am particular so keep that in mind."

Dominique thought of possible choices of what she would be driving next courtesy of Trahir Trahison's wallet. HOPE moved over the upholstery as she took interest in the detailing. The car did get attention. A lot of attention. She glanced over at him and the outline of the rounded door frame.

"Blood dolls?"

Dom felt like she was heading on a field trip to the darkest point of no return. Instead feeling inclined to bring the car to a stop by force like she usually would there was some energy at work holding her down in the seat. A pull and push of sorts to enjoy the ride instead of fight it.

The shadow felt the craving growing the longer the ride continued. A nervous spin worked at her insides. Not one of doubt so much as that all over sensation of exhilarating anticipation like something monumental was going to take place in her life that she would never forget. Little did she know what an understatement that would be.

It filled her when she was handed the keys to drive her grandfather's car the first time when she was ten. It was there with the sound of the ink gun firing up in Benny's hand for her first tattoo at fifteen. It was really strong when the scent of Swisher Sweet's and the taste of Boone's Farm on Ryan's lips found hers for the first time. She was sixteen. It seemed like another life and she was only an observer. Her hand found her lap and joined the other. Everything was about to change. Everything.

Trahir Trahison: “Blood dolls. People who know about vampires and get a rush out of being fed from. I don’t partake of course. Too easy, no hunt. Usually they spend their time in vampire owned clubs. I would imagine some vampires simply pay the human for their blood. They are Masquerade breaches that someone has made the best of. Still, they are Masquerade breaches. Some thralls are also used as blood dolls, given as party favors by their masters to guests.A much more preferable method in my opinion. Thralls can’t feel jilted and run their mouths.”

He drives through the streets casually, obeying the rules of the road until they reach the outer western edge of town. The road just north of the river that leads into the wilderness.

“There is a family camping out in the woods, I’ve checked in on them. Shall we pay them a visit?”

Dominique: A family. Camping. It reminded her of the tent she still had up overlooking the dock at Vita Bella. She set it up as a reminder and at night a small refuge that she could go to when she felt like she lost her perspective on the world around her. It was sentimental as well for several reasons. A visual of a life that once was and it greeted her routinely when she woke in the evening and looked out the window.

Dominique camped outside deep in the wilderness for the first year she was in Harper Rock much to the dismay of those who knew her well. It was the one place she was safe and she swore on it. Back then she thought fangers weren’t the outdoors type. Lazy perhaps. Why venture far from the oblivious flesh bags walking around like cattle grazing ready to be slaughtered and none the wiser for it? It was not how she saw humans back then, only what she assumed that vampires thought of her and the rest of the warm blooded population. She loved that tent, the campfires, the s’mores. There was a peace even in the chaos she faced. Hope. She lived in a different world then. Now she was seeing things without those rose colored glasses that took forever to take off.

“Why a family?” Her dark eyes left the passenger's window and the blur of city lights fading as the car traveled into the darkness. “That is a point I have wondered a lot. If you are going to take from something then why take from what has been no threat in some way or another to you or what you are? Why not use the power you have to take from what is clearly not living up to it’s potential or value? If you want to hand a sentence down why not pluck off the scum of the world and force them into eternal service?”

Trahir Trahison: Looking over to Dominique Trahir gives a small smile. “Paladin at heart still. Trying to save the world. The reason for the family tonight is the exact opposite. It is specifically chosen to show you that humans are a food source. They are not evil, noble, good, bad, none of that. They don’t wait for a pig to misbehave to slaughter and eat the bacon. The pig is simply meat. Humans are simply blood Jane. You look like them. That is where the similarities end.”

He pulls the car over quietly into a campground. The place is deserted with the season. No RVs grace the sewage and water hook ups, the block heaters sit unused in the first cul-de-sac.. Trahir puts the car in park and applies the parking brake before finishing.

“If it makes you feel better they are camping illegally.”

With that he opens his door and slips out into the night, walking north.

Dominique: The silence that Trahir left behind gave her a few moments to absorb what he said. She liked bacon. There was no denying it. Friends and family could attest to that. Vita Bella smelled of it often. So did the cathedral apartment she still had. Her hunger kicked in that she had a hell of a time getting used to. What was nearly impossible before to modify, or so she thought, now was back with a vengeance. It really wasn’t Ben that was so incredibly sweet. It was the blood that splattered her lips. There was a burn building in her veins. The reaction was a burst of heightened awareness that again was coming to the forefront overriding her previous thoughts of camping, of bacon and a life that ended. The only thing that mattered now was to sate and soothe the appetite and the beast growing within her. It was there. It had not faded or lost it’s hold on her.

LESS curled a firm hold on the door handle and gently moved the unique door open. The night air bathed her as she stepped out of the car and closed the door. She filled her lungs then held the rich reward of countless particles that provided a plethora of clues to everything that was around her that she could not otherwise see. Her eyes closed and it was then that it happened.

The sound of blood whooshing following by a deep powerful boom that is strong enough to continue for decades yet is delicate and sensitive enough that it can stop without a moment’s notice. The rhythm was haunting as if it was beckoning her to come closer and listen to the symphony that could follow. A symphony because there were others joining in the more that she concentrated. Some were irregular and others fast. So fast that she waited until at last they slowed down.

The surface of her skin felt warm and those places that rarely sharpened to sensitive points did just that. It was as if slow explosions were being detonated within her and there was no way she alone could stop them. Dominique was not so sure she wanted to anymore even if she could. Her eyes opened and the desire to move and never stop took over. The sounds of small rocks and fall grass hissed beneath her quickening steps until her movements became soundless and silence surrounded her like any well designed hunter should move.

Trahir Trahison: The Killer make his way silently into the woods, he remains alert for a threat he has not mentioned to Jane yet, the Fae. Hopefully they are in and out of here before the wilderness guardians have a chance to stumble upon them. Trahir stops, motions for Dominique to come to him as he kneels down behind some foliage, motioning through the pine trees to a light beyond about 50 yards away.

Using hyper perception he brings his vision to impossible clarity and peers through the darkness for a moment in silence. I hand comes up, with 4 fingers raised. He doesn’t watch the humans directly, instead focusing on the fire and counting heads with his peripheral vision. He’s learned the best way to stalk humans is to watch the surroundings for witnesses, keeping them in vague focus to make sure they remain unaware. It seems to help to avoid setting off the infamous “being watched” feeling. Trahir, being a supernatural blood drinking spirit thing made flesh totally buys into the sixth sense people speak of. It’s hard not to when one is of the Killer Path and is constantly setting it off in the city’s law enforcement officers. He’s plucked no small amount of lead from his body over his time as a vampire due to that extrasensory perception.

Words had no place here. The taste of his own blood ignites every fiber of his being, it brings the rage, the lust, the lizard brain to the forefront and he struggles only against the desire to kill. The remaining surge of needs he allows to flow through him as he stands in front of her, eyes reflecting back to her in the dim light.

His intentions, his desires are clear, and words indeed have no place in them.

Dominique: Two beads of temptation were set out for her eyes to see then casually pressed between his lips to spread out like a fading buffet on each swell of inviting flesh. She was closer to the starvation that could kill than she had ever been before. Was he taunting her? Being cruel in his intent? Perhaps he was toying with her and waiting for some reaction to reward his motives? Why the hell did she care during that moment? Or was this another invitation? One that she had not even realized was out there until it was so boldly presented?

Too many questions and she had lost the words to ask. There was a war raging within her. The good, the bad and the ugly were at odds. While the forces inside did their best to tear apart and defeat the other the one in front of her was nonchalantly serving up an offer she was finding increasingly hard to refuse. Trahir Trahison was not helping in the least. He knew it all too well. His eyes gave him away. The right corner of her mouth lifted slowly. What an evil thing to do. One that should most definitely lead to another.

The delicate surface of her bottom lip was slowly subjected to the pressure of the lethal points of her fangs.The skin was no match for the slice that parted the center. With that the obsidian beads of her blood floated and disappeared into the air. She was not done. Call it raising the bar or call it a taunting move on her part. Call it whatever but she was only getting started. Leaning forward just enough to capture one on her tongue allowing it to sit there until the weight of it was absent and signaled it was gone forever.


With that she moved softly on her bare feet and found a glass to replace the one she had until it was removed. This time an amber liquor took the place of what was offered before. The glass in her hand traveled with her back to where he stood. The partial smile returned as she cocked her head just enough to look at him from a different angle. The tip of her finger swayed back and forth at the space of the rim closest to her palm. Her dark wide orbs set on those wild eyes of his. She tried to curb her hunger by bringing the glass in hand to her lips. It had been quite a night and now she was pretty sure the fun was just getting started. As the whiskey slid across her tongue just like she always savored it she winked at him. Trahir Trahison was in for a handful with a Ms. Jane Dominique Doe. Hopefully he could read signals better than she could.

Trahir Trahison:She moved away, he waged his own war. The lips on his lips was signing to him, it was a subtle whisper, a promise of power and exhilaration, it was purified and infused with the Darkness and all the pleasures that the shadows promise each time the sun slips away beyond the horizon. It’s the pleasure of the illicit, flesh and adrenaline, danger and satiation… All one drag of the tongue away from being his.

The lesson he desires to impart on Dominique and he fights now not to fall victim to its charms himself. Ironic. Willpower is not Trahir’s strongest point. Time is of the essence. Control this, dominate or succumb to it and submit. The reality of the situation snaps the Killers thoughts into sharp focus, drawing them back from a precipice of blurred and fuzzy feelings of desire and lust and refocusing them intently on the object of his attention once more. He moves to her, two steps and then the scent of her own blood hitting the air catches him off guard. The black blood hanging there above her lips entrances the murderous vampire and brings into his memories the training he has been giving Nicolette. Live ammo. The rogue vampire… blood, desecration of flesh, pain, hacking, blood flying into the air to hang there… the thrill of standing over the dying vampiress and bringing Hex blade down into the creature’s heart. Standing over the vampire as she screamed and crumbled to ash before the one who had bested her… mastered her.

This time the hunt is different. Trahir in battle is confident, self-assured and inexorably comes forward causing pain and death wherever he brings blade or bullet to bear. This situation though… he is as much the hunted as he is the hunter. He is inexperienced almost in courting. He doesn’t remember his mortal years to draw on the experiences of that time. He has had one lover since being turned and left in a basement for dead. He is not in his element.

Usually he asserts his dominance through a subtle power play involving gathering intel on his target, then systematically pulling their lives apart before drawing it out to the inevitable conclusion, that sweetest of moments when their eyes went glassy and their bodies fell still and silent as the grave they would soon inhabit.

This time the playing field is more even. They have something the other wants, needs. Both are playing the game though, refusing to admit or relent. One would have to make a move before the tension broke.

He does.

He steps around the bar, one arm sweeping around her waist and pulling her tightly against him. He knows this movement will have one of two repercussions, either she will melt into her, or give him a scar across the throat. Without giving her time to consider which of the two actions to take Trahir simultaneously leans in and pulls her closer, his lips move to hers, the lightest of brushes against them in passing, enough to transfer a trail of his blood, undiminished this time by the mortal’s drink, directly onto her own lips. His other hand moves to her hip and suddenly neither is restraining her. He stands looking at her, the lengths of their bodies together, his hands on either of her hips as he watches her eyes.

Dominique: The travel of his body was followed by her eyes as they tracked him. Each step he took brought him closer. She was about to take another drink from the glass when there was a body that found hers and made it nearly impossible to continue with wetting her thirst. And then there was something else that replaced the promised burn that the whiskey in her hand could provide if taken down and savored just right.

The coolness of their bodies meeting had her looking up at him while the tip of her tongue cleansed the surface of her lips. It added to the never enough that was building. It was going to be there whether or not he put it there. And he might as well have delivered it because she was about to repay the favor in tenfold. Her sharp points made simple work of slicing the surface of her tongue deeper than should really ever be comfortable. The taste of everything she was pooled behind her lips and without a second thought she made sure to give him back in abundance what he had offered her. Pain for pain. Pleasure for pleasure and now blood for blood. She had spilled far more proving lesser points.

LESS reached up and curled at the back of his neck and firmly guided him down to her face. She said nothing as her mouth parted at the last possible moment and allowed the contents to bleed into his without wasting a black drop thanks to the seal her lips formed against his. She curled the tip of her tongue back and sealed her self-inflicted wound. She was thinking that would balance things out. If only he had the ability to take back the maddening need for more of what she had yet to pinpoint. Was it him or the blood or perhaps it was the changes she had been going through? Her mind barely registered the thought and now the blood exchanged left her needing more than her drink leaving her hand. LESS released the hold on Trahir and she brushed the back of her hand across her stained lips.

Trahir Trahison: The kiss is entirely unexpected and her blood sets off a reaction within him that nothing else could. His entire body stiffens for an instant and then he is in motion, his hands coming up underneath her buttocks and lifting her and in a flash they are pressed against a wall, her back to it, his body pressing against hers as he reclaims her lips. He can taste her essence, can almost taste what makes her… her. There is a sense of hesitation, a lost waif tempered with an unending determination forged in the flames of rage. He can even take something he can only call fresh. The awakening of her own bloodlust that reaches out and calls his own to the forefront.

His tongue delves into her mouth, massaging her own and moving over her lips to make sure he gets every bit of what she offers of herself. So focused on her mouth, her taste, he doesn’t noticed his hand, his right hand at least, has come to her face, grasping her jaw in it as if to stop her pulling away. Not that she likely could in that moment between the blood and his weight pressing her against the wall.

His knee presses against the wall beneath her, between her legs, further incapacitating her egress, barring her from moving away from him as he pulls away slowly, licking their combined blood from his lips and swallowing the last of it down. The Killers eyes lock on hers for a moment, perhaps giving her the chance to struggle, to try and get away, a lion playing with his meal…


Dominique: The heat beneath her cool skin was rising and her hand holding the drink lost it’s grip. The sound of it shattering on the grey stone flooring did not deter her hands from fixing on his suit lapels and pulling him back into her when he stared at her too long. She was not going anywhere. It was her wall she was against and then of course there was that kiss. It had a punch to it that was still hitting her hard as she felt the lock of his hand on her jaw. This time she was not going to break the hold. She was going to add to the situation and take one of her own. HOPE and LESS went through the top of his hair and found their way to the back of his head and gripped tight. Without thinking she leaned in and bit his lip pulling back so it bounced into place when she released it.

Dark orbs danced across his face. Without warning HOPE releases the hold on his hair and pulls back crashing across his face. It was meant to land hard and it did. Her eyes pierced through to his with a fire that was out of control. It hardly cooled her down striking out. It only made it worse. She was ready to crawl right out of her skin and tearing him apart was an idea that was becoming tempting the more she looked at him waiting for a reaction.

Trahir Trahison: Pivoting his entire body he pulls her from the wall and spinning, drops quickly to the floor, slamming her down hard enough that if she were mortal the air would have been driven from her lungs and winded her. His mouth drives down and his teeth, his elongated fangs, drive into the flesh between her neck and shoulder, gliding through the flesh with the ease of a hot knife through butter hard enough that the top and bottom incisors click together. His other knee comes to join the one between her legs and he draws them up, parting her legs around his waist. His left hand takes a fistful of hair, jerking her head away from his face as he laps at the blood, healing the wound as he does before releasing her hair and maneuvering himself over her, crushing his lips to hers.

His other hand, it sprouts razor sharp claws and drags down the front of his shirt even as his lips meet and caress hers brutally, slashing off the buttons of his shirt as they travel downward. He arches up suddenly, pulling away from her and shrugs the suit jacket and remnants of his shirt off his shoulders and to the floor.

The flames from the fire illuminate his chiseled body as he looks down to her, eyes roaming over her body, taking in her curves through the dress she still wears… something he is now intent on relieving her of. The shadows dance over hard slabs of muscle and enhance the view of every bit of definition hours and hours in the gym had granted him as a mortal. His eyes, nothing like when he was a mortal pierce into hers, a rage and hunger burning within their depths.

Dominique: She lost her footing and felt the world around her spin. With that swift motion she finds her chest hurting briefly as his body lands down over the top of her. The force is the only thing that shakes her from her plan to give him a second swat for good measure. Just as the hand continues on to move with said interrupted plan the attention getting bite to her crook of her neck sets in. She cries out and reaches for some hold on him. Her legs are splayed quickly and the crushing kiss takes more from her than she planned on. Her self control was shot. The sweetness of his taste works it’s magic and stirs that dark craving that started everything.

The roll of her tongue soon chases his in the confined space between their sealed kiss. Madness. It was not rational. But there was no denying it was feeding something within her. She wanted to immerse herself in it and be devoured by it. Her hands reach up as his body lifts. The series of tight muscles beneath her fingers were only avoidable for so long. HOPE and LESS made easy work of tearing off whatever Trahir took too long to remove on his own above the waist. She looked at his body and stared. Stared and admired until her open hand lifted and went crashing across his face again. It felt so good to look into his eyes as she did it. The element of surprise was turning her on the more she pushed him and he responded. Never had she done such a thing but then again she had never felt like she was about to go up in flames with such need.

Trahir Trahison: The blow rocks his head back and again flares the Darkness within. Her dress is a handful of fabric for an instant before it becomes a tattered remnant of what it had been seconds before. The remnants turn into a makeshift blindfold as both hands come down, one on either side of her head with the dress held between them like a garotte.

After robbing her of both clothing and sight he takes a moment to admire her exposed flesh. No panties… naughty vampiress he thinks to himself. His mouth comes down, covering a star tattoo at the peak of her breast and piercing it with a single fang before the same happens a second later to its twin. His tongue swirls around softly, but firmly. Slowly, languidly, it rolls over, flicking the barbell piercings it and again he savors the taste of the black blood welling up from her flesh.

His fangs sink into her breast an inch above their peaks, and again another inch up each pierce followed by a soft kiss and his tongue trailing along, closing the wounds he leaves behind. All the while her dress acts to deprive her of her visual senses.

Dominique: Just when she thought her move was leading to something Trahir took things and flipped them and her dress around and now she was looking at a lot of material and lost sight of the one attached to the fangs that found her stars. A moan moves past her lips while her chest rises to meet the pressure of the bite. Then another fang settled in. She wiggled beneath it until it was clear the more she did the deeper he was willing to go. The scent of her blood mixed with that of another filled her as well as the forbidden taste of his kiss that ended all too soon.

“Pssst… I am up here.” She tried to catch his attention then hissed in and held that unneeded breath as soon as his tongue begins that soft swirl soothing her star and giving her another reason to moan and writhe slowly beneath his touch. “I won’t slap you again…” She was lying and he likely knew it. Otherwise her hands would not be wrapped up unable to move unless she really wanted them to. Why do that and spoil all the fun? “I just think I should have a turn too.”

Trahir Trahison: He didn’t buy what she was selling on the whole being done slapping him. He also wasn’t ready to give up his turn. He stops his ascent toward her neck and begins to trail his tongue downward, between her breasts and down over her smooth belly. He is brought up short of his goal by the fact he would have to release his hold on the blindfold to go any further and growls, a low, throaty sound that rumbles forth showing his displeasure at being vexed by physiology.

Fine he thinks, releasing the dress and moving his hands down from her shoulders and over her breasts to toy with them lightly. His mouth continues to trail kisses, licks and nibbles as he moves over her belly and down the outside of her tattooed left hip and leg, moving inward, teasing. Making his way to her over thigh to trail the side of his tongue over her skin as he looks up to her face.

Dominique: Hunger. It laced her lips with the minuscule traces of the blood that was left behind. So fine the remnants were that only one who craved its source could appreciate the power of the hints that found their way to the tip of her tongue. She looked down and felt the draw to what was literally close enough to taste. Her eyes settled on his and locked down. She watched his every move. There was a predator in the secret garden and he was working his way closer to the forbidden fruit.

What was this? Did he have a wicked hand that exceeded the acts she had already known? Perhaps she was falling under a spell. His?

The coolness of the wet trail left behind was kissed by the air that moved from his body and found a place over hers. HOPE reached down once it worked its way through the labyrinth of material constricting her arms. Each digit weaved slowly through that dark field of black and soon was lost. The canvas of ink to the left and the healthy flesh to the right moved to caress the sides of him until her hand tightened down and claimed that handful of black and pulled slowly. Was the beast within him awake and if so was she going to able to harness it so easily?

Trahir Trahison: In the deepest part of the night, the two vampires come together, tenderness intermingling with violence, blood, sex and the scrabbling and clawing for advantage in their seemingly never ending power struggle with one another. When the sun’s first rays crack the darkness, chasing away the night time sky in a dazzling array of pinks and oranges, reds and violets, the pair can be found in Dominique’s bed. Her head lays against his chest, a chest raked by fangs and claw.

Were someone to walk in the scene would look more like a homicide investigation underway than the aftermath of a night of sex. Bloody trails adorn their bodies, the floors and even the walls have not been spared. Clothing is strewn from the living room to the bedroom, none of it intact, shredded, ruined.

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"

Dominique: She blinked. Her body didn’t move as she stared at the back of him and waited for something else to be said. Something that would make what he just said null and void as to how it sounded and perhaps there was a punch line or something. Slowly her eyes pulled away from him and to the body with them who just so happened to be looking at her as if she was supposed to say something.

“Well, you don’t have to like it. You also don’t have to think about it because I currently don’t lay with anyone. I sleep alone, Trahir.” That was not entirely true and gave her reason to pause. There was the matter of Rufus if his heat lamp was out or the menagerie that would often float through Vita Bella. Her eyes squinted in an attempt to see what was in the distance that was having her talking to his back instead. “And you are right. You are not my keeper or in charge of me. And as for my sire…” She remembers all too well when he thought it was his business who she was laying with. He crawled into her window uninvited to find out. “It isn't his business either.”

Dominique went quiet but now she was looking a little more closely and in particular detail to Nicolette. Her brow slowly lifted while the other stayed relaxed. Her eyes drifted to the back of Trahir and she inhaled deep and held it. Again her eyes shifted back over to the beauty next to her and it kind of hit her that she oddly wondered where Nicolette was laying lately. Her face deadpanned. Why did he have to go bring something like that up? She looked at the bottle Nicolette was holding for her. She hoped the woman didn't go too far with it because as soon as VENUS did a u-turn or whatever boats did and hit shore she was going to be taking that bottle with her. Hopefully whatever was in it would keep any thoughts of what the pair were doing when she left the boat far from her mind.

“You take naps with anyone do me a favor and don’t tell me. I have a hard enough time falling asleep as it is.”

Dominique was not one to get her nose into other people’s business so why she opened her mouth and said what she did was unsettling. However, while she stood there in the awkward silence she realized she meant it. That was actually the very last thing she really wanted to know. She pinned Nicolette with a stare all women know when it is sent their way.

“That goes for you too. Don’t want to hear about it.”

Dominique felt better already. Almost good enough to reach for that bottle her employee was holding but instead she decided she would take a little stroll to see the other side of the boat. It couldn’t be too far from where she was currently standing. It would also give her time to figure out what exactly just happened and give the two she was looking at time to put a key and a bottle away.

Trahir Trahison: Nicolette looked horrified the moment the words left her master’s mouth. The expression expanding as Jane speaks. The thrall almost has a heart attack when Dominique’s eyes turn to her. All she can do is shake her head in total abject fear and denial. She can’t even form the words to explain that there had been nothing happening.

For his part Trahir is oblivious to the byplay going on between the two women. He knew there would be a response of this nature, a validation of what he said about it not being his business, a sentiment that he didn’t believe when he spoke the words and still doesn’t after she echoes them, but he did not expect her to… tell him to keep secrets? Not to tell her if he took another lover?

That much has him turning around with one of his own eyebrows raised to denote his perplexion at her request. “What are you talking about? I don’t ‘nap’ alone let alone with anyone.” He completely misses out on the exchange between Jane and his thrall. Not that it would have mattered had he seen it. He likely wouldn’t have understood the eye-to-eye silent conversation the two had going on,

Just as Nicolette was about to open her mouth to try and deny that anything had happened...

“Nicolette, go below.” The order is spoken calmly but the woman jumps to as if he has zapped her with a cattle prod and screamed in her ear through a megaphone. In a flash of ink covered flesh she is gone, disappearing into the bowels of the boat without a word.

Once the two are alone Trahir steps to Dominique, that… thing… building inside once more. It was definitely connected to her. He didn’t know if he liked it or not. “What I meant to say was I want you to myself.” His eyes meet hers, they are human for the moment, an icy blue color spoken of in a million cheap romance books on the racks of a million book stores around the world written in a million languages. But they are there, then, not on the pages of a Harlequin novel. They were there and they were bearing down on her with an intensity bordering on insanity. “That you are mine and I want no one else with you in that way…”

Dominique: While Nicolette followed orders Dominique was in the middle of her stroll to locate the other side of the boat. That is when Trahir found a way to meet up with her before she made her way back around to where they were standing. The reptilian orbs that were expected to be meeting hers instead were replaced with a chilling set of soul piercing dreamy blue oceans. If the sudden desire to dive in and lose herself was not disarming enough the words that came from his lips did the trick. She blinked slowly while she stared up at him.

“I am not having sex, Trahir. You can rest assured of that. Not like I want to announce it to the world but there you go. Keep it under your hat if you will, please.”

Trahir was the last one. It was bloody, brutal and well it was one of those things she never thought she would end up tangled up in. When all was said and done...more done than said...neither walked away with their skin, flesh or other things intact. It was not something to write home about. It was one of those things you were better off not talking about because it defied what most would consider appropriate, acceptable and she honestly was still confused as she could be about how it left her feeling. It wasn’t love. But whatever it was had her tasting blood as soon as she thought about it. She was aching inside and out as she stood there while the sweet scent of him found her waiting to draw it in all over again.

“I am a vampire.” She paused for a moment as if that would be a lot for him to absorb. “I found out nothing lasts forever no matter how much your heart believes it will. I have an eternity to remember that. You do know that vampires don’t fall in love and live happily ever after right?”

Maybe he didn’t. She figured she could be thankful for the set of fangs that popped out while pissed off at him and the introduction to the taste of blood not being half as bad as she wanted to believe it would be. She owed him that. He also got the credit for that gnawing bone deep hunger that was clawing at her inside all over again the more she looked at him. She turned away and looked to the water. She could walk. It was rather simple. She had done it thousands of times. More than that. In fact she was only better at running. She could do that too. But she wouldn’t. Not this time.

“If I do decide to lay somewhere and it isn't alone should I call you or what?” Dominique was finding it much easier to be confused than to believe the one who was looking at her actually had something invested behind his not wanting her to get laid. It was hard to grasp why she cared if he did as well. The idea of whether or not he was warmer with Nicolette in very close proximity once she left actually got her irritated. Not just irritated. Her eyes darted toward the steps to where the woman had disappeared. That nice bottle Trahir gave her went with the woman. Her lips formed a flat line. She could christen Nicolette. That wouldn't be a waste. Her top lip twitches slightly as she sets her gaze back on Trahir. Yeah, this was uncomfortable.

“I like the boat. It is nice. Nicolette is working out well.” She steps instead to the railing of the boat. It was a nice night and they weren’t too far out. “I can grab that bottle later.”

Where did she cross the line? Cross was a light term the more she thought about it as she reached back and pushed her body up to sit on the edge. Her right leg slipped back so that she was straddling the rail when her eyes met his and felt the most insane onset of anger fill her. Just as unexpected as it would be if a meteor came out of nowhere and slammed into her sending her tumbling into the water behind her. Her eyes darkened and narrowed as a chill set through her.

Trahir Trahison: “If I do decide to lay somewhere… *click* Something within Trahir shuts down for an instant hearing that. Something vital. Something holding back a veritable tidal wave of predatory rage and territoriality… the dam breaks for an instant, the murderous hatred for some unnamed suitor flows through the Killer like a riptide under the surface. His expression deviated only slightly, a narrowing of the eyes the only immediate sign that something is wrong. At least for a full three seconds as she continues speaking.

He doesn’t hear the compliment given to the boat, he doesn’t hear the comment about Nicolette or her retrieving the bottle at a future date. The flash of something that “rage” doesn’t begin to touch and “murderous” doesn’t do justice to is all consuming for that span. It’s so intense that it takes those three seconds for his eyes to even register the barrage of turmoil within the Killer and shift in the blink of an eye to the crocodilian orbs so common when he is hungry… or angered.

In that same instant in time, the time it takes his eyes to shift he is gone. Barely a blur of motion, the only telltale sign of his passage a gust of wind that lifts Dominique’s hair, whipping it in a passing gust of wind.

From behind her, as the feeling fades away as quickly as it arrived comes a cold voice, devoid of all emotion. “You misunderstand what I said Jane. You are mine. That was not an expression of some simpering human emotion wreathed in some feeble and futile hope of a future of monotonous “How was your day”’s and repetitive “I love you”s and meaningless and false “We’ll be together forever”’s that mortals spew out not comprehending their words.”

He spins her with a hand on the arm and a quick jerk, the same hand reaching out to stop her rotation so she has performed a 180 and is looking him in the face. “I wasn’t asking you. I wasn’t throwing my heart at your feet like some high school teen asking a girl to prom in the hopes of losing his virginity fumbling around aimlessly in the back seat of daddy’s car or some hired limo. I was telling you. You are mine. I am yours. Your heart doesn’t need to be in it. Your heart is useless. It doesn’t even beat. Why would I want your heart?”

His eyes don’t blink… they are the 100 million years of predatory evolution brought to bear on her chocolate pools in much the same way thousands of Thompson’s gazelles, springbok’s, cape buffalo and even yes, lionesses have seen over the years... it is never a welcome sight.

“This… thing… we have. It is not love. It is not human, it is not temporary… and it damned sure does not rely on your consent any more than your thirst does! You have changed things in me. I have changed things in you. My blood is in your veins and vice versa. You think you are a vampire. You barely comprehend what that means… Walk away now, and you walk away from learning it. Worse, you take it away from me.”

That last sentence sets of another surge of anger within Trahir. He will ~not~ be denied this. He will not be denied what is his, be it Dominique or the full extent of the growing bond.

Her denial be damned.

Dominique: Dominique’s leg flipped back over and her hands helped her push her body out to drop back down on the deck. She was filled with a sense of having a point to make that would not wait. Who in the hell did he think he was? She could tell he wasn’t in the mood to be asked that and she was a little too worked up to ask in a way that would avoid them tearing each other to shreds.

“My heart was pretty amazing I will have you know.” She was going to tell him a few things he didn’t know. Dracula ******* Trahison may be ahead of her on all the vampiric ins and outs but she knew a few things maybe he didn’t. “It took a lot to get it to stop beating. I was not one of your easy to find happy meals. Once I got over being butt hurt at losing the fight I realized I finally felt alive if that makes any sense. And I am pretty pissed off you started this. Just so you know because I was doing really great until you came in and used my employees for target practice, bait and blew up my ******* car. Yeah...I am still mad about that too.” She inhaled deep as if she could collect some sort of calm that could be miraculously lingering and waiting in the air around them. “That is right. I am. Now you are telling me Tina Turner was right all along and love has nothing to do with it and I am stuck with you like it or not? Great. You know what. You deserve me. With my track record you really do. By the way I am a vampire. It means these things…” She taps roughly at one of her fangs for a visual in case he was missing the point. “These can bleed Nicolette dry if I so much as smell her on you beyond passing in the same room. You want to play then make sure you keep that in mind.”

Dominique was done chatting. She made her points and left them for Trahir to sort through while she made her way below deck in search of that bottle that pretty much had her name on it. She earned it. Maybe a couple. If there was one there was always more. She spotted Nicolette and nodded as she came in closer to her.

“Bottle and key?” Hopefully she could use those two clues and produce a glass as well.

Trahir Trahison: Trahir watched her disappear below deck without another word spoken. Once she is out of sight he turns and makes his way to the cockpit. A lever pulled has the sails retracting. They won’t be needed further. He’s slightly surprised they haven’t run aground in the time it took him and Dominique to have their brief quarrel. The last part of her speech has the Killer puzzled. Why would he smell like his thrall? It makes no sense. He never feeds from his thralls.

Still wondering about that he steps back out onto the deck and takes a seat on the fantail of the boat, next to the outboard engine. He doesn’t yet start it up, instead pondering what went on in the minds of women. It wasn’t a topic the vampire had given much thought to previously, at least not in his recollection which only began a few months back when he was turned. He had heard Andras members speaking though and was starting to wonder if women were crazy like some of the male vampires said.

It didn’t matter. Chances were he was, himself, slightly crazy. He didn’t see it, but it was possible. If Jane was a little insane that was fine. She was insane but she was his. She felt she had won the argument when there was none. She felt she had driven her point home by agreeing with him, and she threatened to kill his thrall if the impossible happened. If every argument went that well for Trahir he needed to figure out how to make a living arguing. He would be rich in no time.

Finally he reaches down and fires the engine to life. Bringing the boat about he starts it on its trek back across the choppy river waters toward shore.

For all its complexities, sailing a boat was far easier than trying to figure out Jane. He wonders if she wants him to kill Nicolette.

Below deck, Nicolette backs away quickly from Dominique, getting the bottle and opening it quickly. She pours the vampiress a glass of the expensive wine and hurries over to her, holding it out in both hands as she was taught. She wants to give her boss every platitude she can, to tell her that her master has never touched her, never tried to, had no interest, but she doesn’t. Trahir has instilled a fear in her of bringing unwanted noise to a vampire’s ears so she simply holds out the glass, her eyes pleading silently with Jane not to hurt her.


Dominique: The glass was in her hand quickly. Perhaps even faster than she first had anticipated. The bouquet was fragrant coming from the glass beneath her nose and gradually getting closer to her lips. She watched Nicolette closely then paused the progression of the glass arriving to her mouth. She reached for the bottle from where the woman has left it sitting. She turned and handed it to Nicolette.

“I think you need this just as much as I do.” With that she moved about the spacious room before settling into a seat that appeared to be suited for such a purpose. “You earned it, Nicolette.”

The drink in her hand finally found its way to her lips. Sipping slowly she keeps her eyes towards the direction of where Trahir could appear if he chooses to. The irritation was calming to a tolerable level within her and with that she notices that Nicolette was sitting with the bottle in hand looking a bit uneasy and bewildered.

“Relax. Find a glass. If anything bad happens the liquor cabinet seems well stocked. So there is always hope.” Dominique raises her glass to Nicolette then resumes savoring the swirl of its sweet contents in her mouth.

Trahir Trahison: Nicolette is petrified. Trahir’s words ring in her ears, “If you don’t like her after a probation period, you can fire her and I’ll send her home.” She knows he doesn’t mean Paris. He had explained that to her in vivid clarity later on the next evening. She pours herself a glass of the wine with a shaking hand, her eyes darting back and forth from the pouring liquid filling the glass to Dominique who literally could kill her with a word or two. The expression on her face is easily read, traumatized. The sassy model is gone for the minute, replaced with a terrified little girl in fear for her life mouthing the words “No… please…”.

Trahir doesn’t make it any better when he walks down the steps into the stateroom to join them. “If you are worried about Nicolette I could send her home. That is up to you Jane. If you no longer require her services I can replace her with someone you would feel more comfortable having around.”

To Trahir it’s a simple matter of convenience having a thrall. They are all human, they all can perform the same basic tasks as each other, they are plug and play, interchangeable.

Nicolette’s glass settles on the counter alongside the bottle and she looks to Dominique with her wide brown eyes pleading once more.

Dominique: Dominique followed the path Trahir made as he entered the space she was sharing with Nicolette. Like the lioness within her she watched him closely. Her eyes were fueled with intensity that any would have while watching their…what was it that had her tracking him like she did? She took another drink. A slow deliberate swallow went down while he spoke. Her eyes went to Nicolette and the glass that was set down. Was she supposed to want to kill Nicolette?

“I think she has no reason to not live through the night because you certainly don't intend on sending her back home. We both know that. Don't we, Trahir.” Her finger strokes the outside belly of the glass while she speaks. “It seems needless when she enjoys her work and her time with you.”

Dominique was not sure what it would prove in killing her. Dark as the thought was even more chilling was the idea that he would kill her off if she wished it to be so. A gnawing feeling working its way up was totally unexpected. Is this his doing as well? It was not entirely comfortable and was growing like that insistent itch that you can't reach no matter how hard you try. She released her glass next to Nicolette's and settled back where she was sitting.

Trahir Trahison: “Very well”. Trahir seems nonchalant about the matter.. “I just don’t want her causing a rift between us. Nicolette, go topside, bring Venus about and head back toward the docks. Use the outboard and keep her under 5 knots. I don’t want you blowing the engine. I still need to have someone look at it and make sure it is suitable for the stress of moving a boat this large. Call me up when within sight of the docks or if there is a problem.”

Trahir makes his way over to Dominique as Nicolette slinks off grateful to be away from her murderous master. As she reaches the steps leading topside she turns and mouths a heartfelt thanks to Dominique.

Stopping in front of Jane, Trahir places his hand on the counter next to her drink and, leaning forward, inhales her scent softly, savouring it. He doesn’t touch her, just inhales, taking in her essence from only inches away. He smells her familiar scent, he can smell Doc as well, that is to be expected, but there is something else mingling in the air, something foreign. He has not smelled it before. Someone else... When he straightens his eyes move to hers and he tilts his head. “Who do I smell on you Jane? Who touched you? I smell Doc and… someone else. Someone I don’t know...” There is no expression on his face, he doesn’t look upset but there is something that stirs within her, a tiny tingling feeling, almost imperceptible.

Dominique: Her eyes left the steps where Nicolette dutifully disappeared and found Trahir closing the space between them and freezing short of contact. She stayed still while he leaned in and said nothing. The closeness was like a sudden shock to her system. Parts of her woke up and were alive before she could decide if she wanted them to be. Her body shifted so subtly it would be hard to notice but perhaps not for Trahir. The fact she was feeling like she was about to be slid under a microscope for inspection inspired her muscles to move just enough so she could alternate her hips. The left was suddenly uncomfortable so the right would have to take on her minimal weight.

“Excuse me?” Her eyes shot up solid and fixed on his. She never backed down even if she felt a bizarre need to explain herself and she was struggling with why. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Who touched her? What was he trying to say? He had a lot of nerve. Nearly black orbs locked on his face and her jaw tensed beneath.



“I was at work. I was putting ink in skin,Trahir, not bending over to make a buck. You know what? I think I have had about enough of the insults.”

The petite shadow would have stood but there was this strong sense of comfort being as she was. A little closer to the solid ground beneath the seat supporting her. She certainly felt stronger and with far more options. Her mind struggled with what he was asking, insinuating or expecting.

Trahir Trahison: “No insult intended. I just wish to know which scents indicate friends and which indicate foe Jane. If I thought you were some common whore I wouldn’t be…” He stops without finishing the thought. “There is no accusation Jane. I understand you are naturally aggressive and perhaps you have good reason to be defensive but don’t be. Not with me.”

The irony of his own words doesn’t elude him. Don’t be defensive after he has flipped her life upside down, destroyed her car, killed her friend, and generally been a catalyst for changing her into a cold blooded killer. He knows how it sounds but the words are spoken exactly as he means them. “You are becoming more important to me as the nights go on. I’m learning from you as well.”

He reaches out and takes her hand, bringing it to his lips softly, his other hand moving to rest on her knee. “Before you react with anger, think to yourself, would you not wish to know if a stranger’s scent adorned me?”

Dominique: As soon as he touched her there was a madness stirring beneath his hand, the material over her flesh and the bones beneath that. What was happening to her? His words found their way into her head and floated around waiting to be tagged with an answer. She felt like saying it would be better if she didn't know because she already had a small taste of what it would do to her and because of that alone the world would not be safe. But she expected to know. That was the odd part. Entitled and to the point of causing pain if need be.

“Well, that is a friend you would be discovering. He came in for a tattoo.” The pulsing of the small muscle below her jaw began. “I am calm as a kitten until my claws come out.”

Or until you start smelling like the perfume counter at the local mall.

Dominique's lips stayed closed but her mind was working overtime. She was never the jealous type. She actually the total opposite. So why now? All of this was so foreign and yet impossible to ignore. Just when she thought she had simplified things Trahir Trahison had to waltz in and shake her world upside down. She kept her eyes rolled up and set on his.

Trahir Trahison: He turns her hand over, exposing her wrist while he watches her eyes. A gentle kiss to the spot where once a pulse warmed her flesh and then his fangs sink in, a single lick sealed the wound at his pupils blow out, the ice blue irises nearly overwhelmed by the expanding black circles. The smell of blood fills the air instantly and to Trahir the world shifts. Euphoria is a cheap word, incapable of touching the indescribably feeling her blood imposes on him. It is a taste of lost emotions, it’s the sunlight kissing sun, it’s renewal, birth, life, death. It is a million impossibilities exploding on his tongue in an exploding supernovas force.

Something is there in her blood, he can see something in the eye of his mind. It’s fuzzy, he can’t bring the image into focus and it slips away into oblivion. The vampire’s blue eyes close during the brief struggle to solidify the image and when he opens, those golden orbs, split by a vertical pupil stare into Dominique’s eyes.

“So we understand where we stand. You are mine. I am yours. Do we agree on this?”

The question seems a formality as he says the words. Almost like pointing to a cloudless sky at midday and asking if both parties agree the sky is blue.

Dominique: Her eyes didn't blink or break their hold on his even as those hypnotic bold blue pools shifted into those of the predator that he was. The sensation of him penetrating her wrist took her to a whole other place than where she was sitting. The burn under her skin as he sucked her into his mouth revealed the power of what had escaped mere mortal definition. The swirl of his cool tongue brought it forth. His darkness was hers to behold and it would feed her own. Was it that he embodied the extreme opposite to what she had known that pulled her in? No. She was already on the highway to hell before he came along.

For a few quiet moments she studied him as if she could dig deep with her pointed stare. If there were two sides to Trahir they were no longer hidden. She had witnessed the extremes of both. She was sure there was far more to him than what she had seen but it didn't matter. Those would come out as well but it would be in layers that she would have to peel apart slowly to get to. He was no saint and she was willing to bet the devil was somewhere behind those eyes and lips waiting to come out. She was ready. She surrendered her halo and wings long ago.

“Yes.”

She could try to deny it, pretend it wasn't there but it was. It would not be denied. Whatever it was between them it had a hold on her and it wasn't letting go. And she didn't want it to. It was dark, it was merciless and it was madness.

“Agreed.”

The scent of her dark blood that was fading from his tongue and lips left her licking and attempting to moisten her own.

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"

Trahir Trahison: The vampire nods solemnly as he meets her gaze with those unnerving eyes. “I can almost see something when I taste you. It’s fuzzy, hazy. With a distortion like the sun beating down on the asphalt in midsummer while you are trying to see something a mile away.” He motions toward the stairway leading up to the top deck. “We should check on Nicolette to make sure she doesn’t accidentally run us aground.”

He let’s his fingertips glide over the skin of her forearm, tracing the vein all the way to her wrist and then laces his fingers with hers and brings the knuckles to his lips briefly for a kiss before turning and leading her by the hand toward the stairwell.

“Once we know the boat is safe we can discuss sleeping arrangements.”

Dominique: Is it some sort of madness that is slowly enveloping her and nearly swallowing her like the shadows threaten to do? The route of his fingertips captures her attention. It drives her focus as if it was a passenger in the backseat while his hand travels down the cool surface of her arm. She feels his presence within the tissue and venous highway tunneling beneath the layers of her nearly dead flesh. He knows he is there. He made a point by putting himself there. The understanding and significance is powerful and yet unspoken. It doesn't need to be said.

Trahir’s words are laced with the unknowing. A small hint perhaps is within the simple statement that leaves her wondering what is hidden in her own dark essence or is it pulling something to the surface and calling it to rise within his own? She doesn't ask. She retreats and explores places she rarely seeks out. The storage banks of her memories. Light and goodness. Dark and painful. It is as if she is not alone this time as she searches. Something is following her and doesn't deviate from where she goes just as his hand continues to press to her palm while his long cold fingers lock down around her own. It is in that moment she feels a sudden heat in the connection of her hand in his.

“Yes.” It was a single word that covered so much more than either had said until that point.

Trahir Trahison: The pair make their way up into the chilly night air. The river it a slowly moving serpent cutting a swath through the darkened landscape that passes by around them. "Ride the snake..." Trahir says nearly under his breath as his eyes search for any potential problems. The outboard has the boat moving slowly back toward the docks, the area just coming in sight and Trahir leads Jane to the bow of the vessel to watch the job Nicolette does of docking her.

"The engine is too weak for this size of boat," he says, noting the rate or travel. "How much work would it be to add a larger diesel electric engine while still keeping everything modern out of sight?"

He knows Jane works on cars, but he has no idea if she has even considered working on a boat before, let alone a project of the magnitude he envisions. The hull and even the keel, ribs and stringers were wood. Trahir is not even sure modifying the boat in such a way would leave her seaworthy or if she would simply shake herself to pieces.

Sailing the boat was easy enough for the killer, but teaching others was time consuming and if the boat was ever used during the daylight hours to facilitate an escape, speed would be of the essence. Having Nicolette floundering about trying to figure out what did what was not an option. "It's either that or sailing lessons for Nicolette."

He looks to Jane and waits to hear her opinion.

Dominique: Dominique looked at Trahir then pulled her gaze away to the vessel beneath them. It wasn’t going to work. Boats were hardly her expertise. That fact aside it was basically apples and oranges with engines in general. She fixed Stagger Lee’s boat issues so thanks to the time spent researching boat basics she felt comfortable with telling Trahir his plans were not going to go exactly as he wanted. Not unless he wanted to spend his time swimming back and forth gathering the wood that would eventually rattle off and litter the water like a box of toothpicks dumped in a sink of water.

“Get yourself a second outboard engine. This is not meant to cut the water like a thirty eight foot Formula. You will be lucky if the second outboard decreases your travel time as it is. You are standing on a floating island.” The cool night air finds its way deep into her empty lungs and is trapped as she speaks. “A word of advice, Trahir. I am sure it will not be foreign to your ears as you have likely heard it before. I know I can’t be the first to say it. Don’t expect it to be something it is not. No matter how you try to modify it at its core is what it is and always will be.”

Dark eyes pass across his own as she looks up at him then over to Nicolette. She watches the woman for a few silent seconds before releasing his hand and making her way back to the spot she stood prior while taking in the night before they ventured below deck.

It was not a flaw isolated to the vampire she left on the deck behind her. It was a city wide, world wide plague. All the vampiric power flowing around the Canadian city made it all too easy to be disillusioned with all the possibilities the gluttonous mind could concoct. A tweak here and a little boost there and it should be just because everything else was so easy to obtain with a little force. Lost was the reality that some things were never meant to be more than what they are to begin with.

Trahir Trahison: He watches her speak, listening to the words come forth that are the opposite of what he was wanting to hear. What he is hearing is: No you can not have what you want. What he is wanting to hear is: Yes, that will work and I can have it done tomorrow.


“I see’” he says simply in a deadpan voice. This, he reminds himself is why he needs people . His grandiose plans scattered to the wind, he now has a boat that will never be as fast as he wants it to be. All because of the laws of physics as Dominique has so eloquently pointed out. Did she have a hidden meaning in her words? Was not changing things meant to be a double entendre? If so, Trahir disregards it.

“So you are saying I need to buy another boat.”

Dominique: She blinks because she realizes that not only did Trahir totally dismiss what she said he was doing just what she had quietly reasoned as to why the boat almost ended up with another worthless addition. Not just that...Trahir was taking it a step further. He was ready to take on another boat because the first was not exactly what he expected or intended it to be. Was it the fault of the vessel being inadequate to suite the vampires fancy or was it the vampire she was looking at for not knowing what he wanted to begin with? She shook her head slightly then looked up at the sky. So typical. Everything could be improved, replaced. She shrugged. In some other worlds it was law. In her own...not so much.

“Yeah, that.” She slid her hands out to each side and felt the polish of the wood beneath. finally her fingers locked down and her hands progression ceased. “Exactly what I was saying.”

Trahir Trahison: Trahir nods. Figures. The only boat he could find in Harper Rock was defective. It would be fine for sailing, but Nicolette couldn’t sail. Now he had to teach a thrall how to do something. His gaze cuts over to Nicolette and in his mind’s eye there stands a thrall who knows how to sail. That seems preferable to Trahir. “Do you know many mortals who sail and do tattoos Jane?”

The question if posed by near anyone else would be innocuous. Trahir is not anyone else.

The thralls eyes widen as Nicolette instantly catches the meaning behind the words and she quickly busies herself looking for the boats manual in the cabinets.

Dominique: She looked over at him lifted a brow and felt her head **** subtly at his question. With Nicolette’s sudden and purposeful movements likely inspired by the one she is looking at she works through her head the other possible scenarios his mind can perform on her and deadpans. Sometimes she wanted to bite him hard for entirely different reasons than she usually did.

“I did not ever find in my limited and valuable time that I had free and on hand to waste away on such thoughts a single moment where I applied it to taking a census on such. Forgive me. My interest meter just took a huge dive downward. I could say I am impressed with Skipper over there jumping to the task but…” She presses her hands down and pushes her body away from the wood railing. “I would be lying. How about me, Trahir? Can you make me bend over and bark too? Your mind is only so powerful. Fair warning not to get too comfortable with those powers.”

Trahir Trahison: A warning. Trahir had recently had a warning. It was for something he was comfortable with doing. It had been the reason his stint in Tytonidae had ended. Trahir wasn’t a fan of warnings. “Jane…” he says calmly. The single word intended to cut her off mid stride.

“I’m not impressed with the Skipper either.” He turns and starts toward Nicolette, his fingernails elongating into claws as he does.

The tattooed beauty looks up from the manual and tries to back up, tripping and falling to the deck, book flying off to the side. She attempts to buttscoot backward as Trahir advances…

Dominique: And then then a toy that lost its value was going to be the recipient of the beholders disappointment. She had a moment of what if’s and maybe nots dancing around in her head before she decides on retaining her staff a little longer because just like he had the mind and will bending power she had the power to beat him to the punch.

In a blur of black and cool night air the inked body rushed past him and was blending into the other that HOPE and LESS took hold of. With a burst of the unexpected the shadow lifted the woman off the ground tossing the stunned woman overboard with a high pitched squeal of protest following.

“Cool off Nicolette. It is beautiful night.” Dominique leaned down and tossed a life preserver in the same direction the woman splashed down without looking back. “As for you…” She looked up at him. “I think that you need to appreciate what you got before you find yourself empty handed.”

Trahir Trahison: Stopping mid-stride himself Trahir hears the yelp preceding and following the splash signifying his thralls sudden familiarity with the icy water of the Algonquin River. He arches a brow as he turns from the source of the commotion and listens to Jane. It was sound advice. Not just as far as the boat goes. He caught the double, technically triple entendre this that and doesn’t summarily dismiss it.

“You’re right.” Two words. Simply stated, no fan fare. He doesn’t explain his rationale, there’s no need to really. What she said made sense and Trahir had been about to make several bad decisions in a short timeframe, likely very costly ones and detrimental to his long term goals.

He glances toward the starboard side to where the woman disappeared after being flung like a rag doll and then back to Jane. “You should save her. I’m not the one who got angry and threw my toys around.” With that he turns and calmly heads below deck toward the stateroom.

Dominique: Dark orbs tracked his body as it moved towards the steps then disappears down below. Once he does she bolts to the side of the boat and hops up leaning over to find Nicolette being proactive in her current predicament. She was treading water like a pro. In fact had if it had not been close to winter she would have left the woman to do as she currently was. However, she wouldn’t last long with the cold water wearing on her.

Dominique straddled the railing then climbed down on the drop ladder conveniently dangling next to her current spot on the edge. The water graduated up from her feet to her calves and finally her thighs. The water still was warmer than the black blood in her veins. Nicolette may not appreciate it but any other time the vampire would have found it rather inviting.

“Sorry about that but I think it was likely for the best.” She leaned out holding onto the ladder and wiggled HOPE to get the woman to come to her. “Take my hand and we will get you back up and dried off.”

Nicolette didn’t waste any time swimming back towards Dominique with the life preserver hugging her shivering body. LESS took hold of the life preserver with impressive strength for such a petite body. With the motion of a firefighter scaling a burning building with no seconds to spare, Dominique had Nicolette up and over the side of the towering boat and landing with a splat of skin and drenched material on the deck.

Trahir Trahison: From below deck Trahir hears the thud of the body hitting the deck. His lips play into a tiny smile. It pleases him that Jane likes his choice. She was expensive after all and…

A thought comes to him. The thrall had been imported, but not alone. Jane had never met the woman who had been Nicolette’s competition, yet footage existed to the contrary. Footage of Jane shooting the woman casually in the head in fact. That along with footage of the murder of Ben, Nicolette’s predecessor as Trahir’s thrall and Jane’s employee.

Trahir was more than impressed with the eruption of progress Dominique had been making in her ongoing lessons about everything vampiric and Trahir not only still had three recordings of her breaking the Masquerade and committing murder, but he also to this day owed her a car.

While he didn’t have a car handy at the moment he could at least rectify one of those issues tonight.

He takes a seat on the black leather chair on the port side of the stateroom and waits for Jane to finish playing with the human. He sat quietly in the emptiness of the room and contemplated.

Dominique: The shoe in her hand took time to get off. Once the left one surrendered into her right hand she quickly tossed it down and repeated the same task with the right shoe. With a few tugs she had another toss down on the deck. Dominique looked over to Nicolette who was trying to retrieve the shoe as if it was golden.

“Stop.” The shadow sighed and took possession of her dripping shoes. “You may take care of him but I take care of myself.” Just as she was about to turn around she felt the weight of a heavy towel settle over her shoulders. “Thank you.”

She lifted the shoe in the right hand as a departing wave and went to find where Trahir disappeared to. She was pretty sure he would want to thank her for pointing out his errors and actions. He had a damp but still functional pet left drying off.

Trahir Trahison: He watched her descend the stairs, each bare foot followed by a perfectly form leg as she stepped down each stair to the stateroom decking. His eyes move from those bare feet up those shapely legs, stopping for a moment at their apex before traveling over her navel, the swell of her breasts, lingering once more at her throat, the biting place of choice of vampires a la Bela Lugosi’s Dracula… to her face. Specifically her eyes.

“I have a gift for you Jane. I don’t think you will appreciate it as much as jewelry or a rocket launcher, but it is infinitely more valuable.”

Considering his hands being empty and no gifts in sight he obviously means something to be delivered in the future. The tone though nearly screams out for the statement to be questioned. Trahir most assuredly wants to know if he sparked her curiosity with his blunt promise of largesse.

Dominique: The weight of her water logged shoes dropped behind the black leather sofa. Her eyes drifted to meet his as he looked at her. She nodded lightly back towards where the shoes were dropped out of view purposely.

“I don’t want her to come looking for them. She needs to stop being the french maid. She has far more talents than you use her for.”

Whether or not she was meant to be, she was rather comfortable in the current room he was sitting in. Enough so that she peeled off her water soaked jacket and pulled open the ancient looking wardrobe without asking if it was okay. Among the clothes that looked like they were exclusively tailored her wet jacket landed. She closed the doors gently and then looked to the empty black leather chair that matched the one he was currently in. She settled in with the sound of wet material and skin sealing itself to the fine leather beneath it.

“You shouldn’t have, Trahir.” She was genuine when she said it. She did nothing to earn it...yet.

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"


Trahir Trahison: He says nothing as she walks out, leaving him alone with his thoughts, and the vampire residing in the next room of course. He makes his way down the hall after closing the front door behind her and locking it and stands in the doorway leading into the bedroom where his childe, Jon Masterson, deceased lays curled up in a fetal position, the spirit which once animated the flesh gone from this world.

Trahir had ended the younger vampire's existence outside the confines of Harper Rock for scientific purposes. He had been testing to see what would happen as far as the vampire being able to return from the realm of the shadows. Jon had been a mistake. A fumbling attempt of a fledgling vampire trying not to kill a human. He had drank too much and turned the other man in a panic.

Trahir could remember the feelings of that night but would never again experience them. He had watches Jon over the next few nights, weeks, months. The man was ill-suited for eternity, pining endlessly his lost humanity and so Trahir had taken it upon himself to solve the issue for Mr. Masterson. Since then he had tried injecting the carcass with blood from animals, humans and even his own vampire blood had been injected into the torpid vampires body. None of it seemed to have any effect. Jon lay dead even now.

It had been over a month now since Trahir had assassinated his offspring.

"She will come around..." Trahir's voice whispers through the air. Whether or not Jon hears it in the Fade is unknown to Trahir. "She has to."

He closes the door shutting the room off from the rest of the world again, then moves to sit in front of the fireplace in the living room. He considers throwing the three discs into the flames himself but holds off. They are Jane's to do with what she wants.
He pulls out his cellphone and shoots her a text message. Come back when you calm down. You need to destroy these discs. He then sets his phone down on the table and waits.

Dominique: As the text from Trahir arrives to her cell the shop door closed behind her while she cleared it. Dominique moved through Twisted Sister feeling the weight of everything following her.The shadow headed up the stairs and went to the lockers to change out of the clothes that weren’t hers. She tugged them off and peeled off the swimsuit. All of it was quickly balled up in her fast moving hands and tossed as far across the tattoo shop as material could go. She was still pissed off that she had been caught and that someone was able to get the best of her.

Of course she saw it coming. It wasn’t like she had not seen the television screen. Doc had mentioned as much. Her sire’s suspicions and her instincts told her as much all the way through. One inked foot lifted up and the crimson rose at the top slid into the black rock climbing capris. The other foot followed suit while she wiggled her hips as her hands pulled up the cotton material. A gray stretch tank was over her head as she made her way to where her dry shoes were and literally stepped into them as she continued on.

The glow of the shop computer had her attention until she felt that all too familiar gnawing building in her gut and bones. HOPE reached out to log in but pulled back. Was there a curse that went with it? It was certainly leaving her incapable of shaking him completely. Now he was too deep to get out of her system. Despite her anger there It was in that hunger, the need. She could walk away and it was right with her rising again seemingly stronger than before. No amount of rage she had could override it. She brought this on herself and now she had to own it before it devoured her.

The night had a blur of black and grey moving through it at lightning speed. The human eye had little chance of catching just what it was as she moved through the streets. A shimmering streak of obsidian hair was lost in the intersections that the shadow cleared. She evaded what would try cover her protectively this time. Before she could rationalize coming back to him so quickly she found herself standing outside the place she thought she had the strength to leave behind.

Dominique arrived with the scent of late fall clinging to her skin and brought indoors with her as she passed through the lobby and the elevator. The higher up the steel cage climbed the stronger she could feel him, sense him. Maybe it was just her mind connecting to those traces he had left behind on her and in her but it was there and she couldn’t ignore it. It was so vivid that it was leaving a sweetness in her mouth that she swallowed down when the doors hissed open. A few steps through the hall had her hand squeezing tightly on the knob of the locked door in front of her and turned it. She didn’t feel the need to waste time knocking.

The mechanisms within the lock snapped and popped with her efforts. The metals they were comprised of stood no chance pitted against the force of her grip and her will to get anything that stood between them out of the way. The door opened slowly then shut behind her as if it was never locked to begin with. Uninvited or not she was there and so was he.

“I want to burn everything you have.” She moved around where he was sitting and felt the warm caress of the fireplace wash over her skin. The closer she came to where he sat the more the heat seeped into her skin layer by layer and thawed what otherwise was cold as death itself. “That is...everything that you have on me. Burn it. If you really want me prove it and set fire to all of it.” Her voice was not asking despite the low volume that delivered her statements. She was dead serious. “You proved your point. I get it. Anything you have related to me has no value anymore. Destroy it.”

Trahir Trahison: Mathematics is an exact science. Numbers contain within them the secret to unlocking everything in the universe. Everything from colors to distance can be quantified mathematically at its root. There is an order of operations that must be followed. Brackets, exponents, division and multiplication all before addition and subtraction. So too are the social bonds between sentient beings that we humans have labeled 'relationships'.

Two things were going to occur tonight. A knee would bend in apology and the evidence carefully crafted by Trahir to implicate Jane in multiple murders and multiple Masquerade violations would be destroyed. The order was as important as brackets before addition in an arithmetic problem. If he demanded she bend the knee first, the weight of the discs may be a contributing factor, or seen as one. If the discs were destroyed first, the leverage from them was removed from the equation, leaving her to make the decision to kneel completely of her own volition. As with mathematics, one way would give a correct answer to the problem, the other, an incorrect one.

Trahir reaches out and, so casually he may as well have been tossing more kindling on the blaze, tosses the three discs into the cleansing heat of the fire. It takes only a few instants for the discs to begin to discolor and warp, rendering the information contained within unrecoverable.

As the discs face their destruction he rises for his seat and steps around the table, circling ti and drawing closer to Jane. His claws extend and flick over the flesh of his inner wrist bringing dark viscous blood creeping out from the small wound. That wound is held out deliberately in front of his body at waist level, a level that were she wanting to accept the offering she would either have to force his hand upward, or knee to take it.

His eyes are the icy blue hues of a human but no spark of humanity resides within them. The scent of his own blood is ineffective in riling the Darkness within him as he had made no effort to inhale in order to speak. Until she has apologized in this way Trahir is intent of silence.

There is now nothing forcing her to remain, no threat of evidence being leaked to sire, press or Crownet, only him; only her.

Dominique: As her dark orbs watched the flames of the fire curl and embrace the discs that glowed in their demise she found her anger evaporating with them. It was done. The lure of the fire and the cleansing of her witnessed violations had her stepping closer to watch the finality of what left black smoke it its wake. She stared watching and waiting until the last of it was gone.

Movement from behind her and the progression of the only other body in the room circling her turned her focus to what still had been left unresolved. In all the chaos between them, the violence and certainly questionable actions on both their parts was something so difficult to define or control. It defied all her logic, reason and what she had known. The sweet taste at the surface of her tongue was reminding her that it’s source was coming in closer.

The sound of skin parting should have been disturbing but even that became a beautiful call pulling her to turn enough to face him. Not only had the odd action moved her it was her hunger that was drawn to the dark blood rising between the fading self-designed crevice of his wrist. An offering was being served that in turn with her acceptance would speak what was lost on mortal words. Her eyes turned up to him as the scent of what summoned her hunger filled her.

The essence was complete in its influence over her. The one sacrificing was completely aware of the power it possessed between them. It was bound to the blood within her and to appetites that called for more. Each one pulled at her and dangled her dangerously on the edge of never enough. She carried two imprints now that marked her in ways she still had yet to fully comprehend. Two were responsible.

One hunted her down and created her. He had the power to summon her and reduce her to the size of a ball of fur. The other currently looked down upon her as she found her weight settling on a bended knee. The cool damp tip of her tongue traced the divide of flesh beneath it slowly. It was not to be an act of rush or desperation. The connection, the delivery and reception was to be savored and given it’s respect due. Nothing could be more powerful than the blood between them.

Trahir Trahison: As her tongue caressed the wound, taking with it the only thing that matters to Trahir, the blood, his eyes begin to turn. They take on the reptilian quality that signifies rage or hunger. The scent of vampiric blood sets it off automatically and that is why they shift now as he inhales a breath to speak. “Nothing between us but the blood Jane.”

Nothing but their pasts, their vampiric families and half a dozen at least other denizens of Harper Rock who would wish to claim one or the other for their own. Bonds were fickle things it seemed even in the world of the immortals. This however was not a bond based off of the fragile and mutable passions of the sad little creatures they had once been called humans. This was a bond spelt out in that stolen vitality, the one constant in any true vampire’s world. Blood, Darkness, the hunt.

She was his. She had willed it so and thus it would be. In her surrender she earned power over him, he would protect her, he would cherish her, he would hunt for her if she was wounded, would bleed for her if she were assaulted, she would do the same for him. A covenant was written between them, signed with the lash of her tongue over the slit on his wrist. His hand comes up, cradling her chin and bidding her to rise as he steps forward pressing his lips lightly to hers.

“No more running.”

Dominique: “No more running.” She repeated his words with her own conviction behind each one.

There in the silence while the confirmation of his words settled in she felt the weight of her body lift and rise back to her feet. The relief of the minimal pressure briefly on her knees reminded her of the way her tiny body felt when she stood at the altar and savored the remnants of communion. She held the offerings in her mouth until they dissolved. Her grandmother would be lost in prayer while she went through the motions of appearing she was doing the same. She wasn’t. Instead Jane was thinking of what she wanted, what she didn’t have but should and counting down the minutes until she was set free through the cathedral doors to run off the excessive energy that plagued her constantly.

This time in her moment of dark communion under the eyes of the only witness present the expectation to stay was answered for. She was where she belonged. God was no longer her judge or her jury. Nor were the masses beyond the broken door to the interior space she currently stood in. She was resurrected not just once but twice and she was prepared to embrace the power that would come with it. She was tapping into it all as she licked the sweetness from her lips.

“Swallow it, Jane.” The voice of her grandmother hissed in her head. “Whatever accumulation of venial sin that may encumber your soul, it is dissolved. You need this.”

Dominique swallowed slowly. Instantly something flowed through her and she was nearly taken back with the power of it bursting through her brain. In the silken coating of the lining of her mouth more than just blood was absorbed. Something played out in her mind and this time she wasn’t running to the massive stained glass doors hoping to be the first one to clear them to get free. The church was gone and this time she was forced to hear the lyrics of music blasting through her ears.

"So Damn Lucky"

Everything's different
My head in the clouds

I hit this corner
With my foot on the gas
I started sliding, I lose it
Everything's different just like that

Oh my God, wait and see
What will soon become of me?
Frozen heart
Screaming wheels
Does that screaming come from me?
So damn lucky, when went on ahead
You say, you say
I see you later
I heard what you said a few minutes later
I'm sliding
Everything's different, again

Oh my God, wait and see
What will soon become of me?
This frozen heart
Screaming wheels
But does that screaming come from me?
I'm dizzy from all this spinning
Now I'm thinking that you did all you could
When you said my love
Take it slowly
Ok, is what I said
Oh my God, wait and see
What will soon become of me?
Frozen heart
Screaming wheels
But does that screaming come from me?
Take me back, just before I was spinning
Take me back, just before I got dizzy
Take me back, amazing what a minute can do
Just like you
So, so, so, so, up, around, around, around
Amazing what a minute can do
Around, Around, Around
Ok...

The stir of the blood on the surface of her tongue as it rolled around became a collective bouquet of sweetness, salt and tears. Her mind knew only blood was there but now the images playing in her mind were so vivid she could nearly taste the tears that accompanied them. Metal crashing and screaming assaulted her ears. She lifted her hands to cover them but that did little to make it go away.

Everywhere she could see it was adding to the tragic scene of loss. Dark hair soon was covered in blood while panicking hands fumbled over misshapen seats and broken glass. So young. The bodies beneath familiar hands were still while the urgency to tug them free did nothing to make them rise. Those hands. She knew them.

HOPE and LESS dropped from her ears and her eyes locked on his. They were like reflections of the same eyes that were lifeless on the tiny face coming to view. She heard a voice. The words impossible to make out but it was Trahir’s. His hands appeared again and reached out for the face of the female that was already gone. In the steady stream of blood flowing from her shattered head, his hand was covered with what was left of the young woman to hold.

The shadow sucked in any air she could and found the connection ended. If that was what it was called. She palmed her face and rubbed it slowly. The scents, the tastes and the visual was gone just as quickly as she moved her hands down from her face.

Trahir Trahison: Something was wrong. Jane’s face is undergoing the shifts he has seen so many times of the faces of people going through emotional trauma. He had been the cause if this enough times to know what it looked like. Instantly Trahir grows concerned. Had she drank too much? Was the blood causing an adverse reaction?

“Jane?” His voice shows none of the concern he feels, it is as cold as ever, his expression still a mask. He can feel something coming from her though… Something has her scared for an instant, then she is looking at him with eyes that mirror his own deadened expression an instant before her face is covered by her own hand.

He moves to her, his hands coming to her shoulders to steady her, offering the only support he is capable of at the moment. The feels through their bond the turmoil within her, emotions, unfamiliar to him but for memories, remnants of the past when he too could feel. “What are you feeling? What’s happening?”

His concern is now twofold. He is experiencing what she is, how it’s possible he doesn’t know but there it is. She has somehow made her way into his veins and his mind and he is feeling what she feels. His sire has told him of this… she and Micah have this with each other. They can sense when the other is hurt, terrified, in danger… strong emotions shared through the bond.. Trahir blinks in surprise. It’s not possible though… he and Jane are not bound together like Velveteen and Micah. This shouldn’t be happening.

Holding Jane against the torrent of memories flowing through her, Trahir waits to see what is going on.

He hates being able to do nothing.

"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"