Blood Moon.... (Open, PM me if you want to be plot)

[Chad Worthington III]

The doors were heavy, made from old oak brought here and assembled just recently by the order. Pushing them open a robed monk entered the old world style room. It was filled with relics, ancient texts and hard wood cabinets all around. The monk’s steps sounded heavy on the panel floors as he made his way toward the man sitting at the fireplace, the flames barely embers. In the chair, and old man, his mentor.

Arch Bishops Abernathy was an old soul since the days of his youth. He always took life seriously and was a man of the people. Early on his father sent him away to a special school where he learned to be a doctor. This seemed normal enough, but within this school he was but one of a handful there being taught. The studies were intense, their storehouse of cadavers extensive, and their practices…. macabre. He did learn to heal, he learned alternative medicines, he learned spiritual healing, and he learned things… He learned things magical. By the end of his studies he had dissected every aspect of what it meant to be human. Tearing apart flesh, and putting it back together again. He was exposed to the monstrous effects and afflictions which plagued humanity, and he encountered things… not human. Upon his graduation his father introduced him to The Order, and he was inducted.

The Order was filled with powerful people from all over the world. Their quest, to serve humanity, to protect them from disease, famine, affliction, and the beasts which prey up on them. For Ricard Abernathy, this was literally a lifelong quest. He was now 102 years old, far beyond his prime and he knew his time here would soon be over.

The monks name was Devon, he had never had a last name, and served as a faithful assistant to the man who rescued him from his orphanage in Sherborn 32 years ago. Walking over to the old man, he placed his hand on his shoulder and whispered. It is time sir, everyone is gathered.

[Chad Worthington III]

Rising from his chair a cold wind swept through the room extinguishing the last wisps of flame left within the hearth. Old man Abernathy knew he was too old for this, but tragedy after tragedy placed this burden upon him. He had lived his life focused on the occult and gleaning all knowledge possible to serve humanity and perhaps some of the rituals and clean life style allowed him to live this long, too long for a father. No man should have to endure outliving their sons, even his youngest who died far too young. He had even survived beyond that of some of his grandchildren, and in the worst way, beyond that of the man who was supposed to perform this ritual, his successor and grandson, Edward.

Like himself Edward was trained to be ordained. Unlike Ricard though Edward was far more adventurous, there were monsters to be faced, and he was a general which lead from the front. His successes were many, and through his leadership The Order grew strong, but this was also his downfall. Acting on good information Ricard took his best team composed of hunters, paladins and mystics to take down a man suspected of vampirism. Perhaps his previous successes emboldened him too much, but on his last fateful night he took a risk too far… and it cost him his humanity.

It wasn’t too hard to find him after he was taken. Snatched from the group by the powerful creature and dragged into the night. Each member of The Order had a tracking device embedded into their skin. And with every member out searching the night for him, it didn’t take long until he was recovered. His skin was pale from lack of blood and the change was upon him. He was turned, one of the undead monsters he fought against, but too weak to fight back against the Paladin which sapped him and chained him in the back of the van. He was gone to The Order, but he would still serve one final purpose.

There was strength and vitality in the blood of the vampire, Abernathy knew this all too well and sacrifices needed to be made. Walking down the torch lit stairwell to the underground ritual cavern, his first stop would be to say a final goodbye to his would be successor. His tears rising in his eyes, he entered a small solid rock cell made as comfortable as a cell can be, well lit with candles and filled with articles of a mans well lived life. Perhaps a small comfort though to someone secured to an iron table, manacled in place unable to move. This was a sacrificial table, built to tilt downward so that gravity could bleed a victim.

Edward wanted to die. He was well aware of what had happened to him, and was ravenous with thirst. Every instinct in him made him want to break his own body in half if it meant he could drink from this old man who he loved entering the room. Focusing himself he braced for what was to happen. He knew his grandfather was too weak to perform the ritual and it was going to be his tainted life’s blood which would make it possible. Closing his eyes, he felt a drop from a tear fall upon his cheek. Finding the strength to be brave one last time, Edward spoke his last words. Release me grand sire. Let my sacrifice be enough to give you the power to end the terrors afflicting this city and to bring security to humanity.

[Chad Worthington III]

The dagger was pure black glass having been carved from obsidian. As sharp as a razor and the Arch Bishop hoped as merciful of a slaying instrument as possible for what needed to happen. As much as he felt this was his duty as a grand sire, his hands were too weak, and they shook terribly at this moment. It would fall to Devon who acted without hesitation, there was no sense prolonging this horror. With a clean sweep across the neck, the head was severed to the bone, and with a twist, that too gave. The table tilted as the blood flowed down toward a chalice below. There was not a lot of blood, this vampire had never fed, but it was exactly enough. Reaching for the silver goblet, he passed it to the lips of the man whose power would make this sacrifice worth it.

Muscles popped and tendons snapped into place as his strength grew. His back tightened and his stature emboldened pushing out his broad shoulders. He felt better than he had been in so many years, even his mind became crisp, clear and focused. The power of this blood was mystical, it could truly have served humanity if it were not so connected with the monsters who only served their own selfish needs. It was the power he needed for tonight’s ritual, and everything was now in place.

Covering the body of his noble grandson in a sacred sheet, he confidently strode toward the gathering all where his circles of mystics were prepared. His plan was complex and expansive. His network was vast. And the time was now.

Out in the city his scouts were everywhere covering as much ground as possible, in the most crowded areas. The ritual would expose and weaken the blood suckers and his scouts would report them to The Orders assault teams. Each one more than capable of taking out a vampire on their best day, and more than up to the task for a vampire on their worst.

The plan itself was simple enough to start with, as it wouldn’t take a lot to strengthen the now faded cyclical powers of a spell cast long ago. Abernathy couldn’t help but feel connected to those great mystics of the past who first put the spell in place as part of their assault to destroy all vampire kind. As well as confident knowing that due to efforts like this, they were all but made extinct so many years ago, until recently resurfacing for some unknown reason within this one city. With his own research he even learned how to extend the effects of spell, a Blood Moon as long as necessary or even permanently if that is what it took to hunt them down to the last.

Taking his place at the top of the circle the mystics lit their candles, began their chants and let loose their energies. The smell of sulfur filled their air and cold flames filled the room causing a red mist of rich smoke to explode from outside the circle. Six vents at the corners of the room, as if filled with a vacuum then sucked the mist outside of the chamber, into the spacious night and toward the moon. For effect it would have been nice to be a full moon, but that was completely unnecessary, any moon would do.

[Chad Worthington III]

Stern Ferday was a massive figure as if ordained from god to be a warrior. He was Edward Abernathy’s right hand and leader of the Paladins associated with The Order. His clothing designed to fit into society without drawing attention, it hid its invulnerabilities. Made from a material called beta cloth and Kevlar it was highly resistant to heat and physical damage and all those under his command wore something similar. Under his command, dozens of Paladin, scores of specially trained mercenaries, vampire hunters and mystics. An army meant to deal with threats all over the world, but concentrated here this night in one small city named Harpers Ferry. It would be a clean sweep. The scouts would find the vampires exposed by the Blood Moon, and then his teams would ascend upon their targets weakened and confused eliminating most and capturing a few. After all their blood was needed to complete the Blood Moon ritual which would extend its duration allowing his team to search out those entrenched vampires who escaped the first night. He had been assured that vampires killed under this moon would stay dead, his efforts would have the ultimate effect; total and permanent extermination of all vampire kind. Leaving the ritual room and then entering his ready room, the high captain gave the order to his team leaders, “move out to your designated areas, it is about to begin. “

The red mist continued to flow toward the moon looking like a dusty haze. The mystic energies drawing from natural energies all round causing street lights to dim, cars to stall and simple electric things to fail intermittently. Those in tune with the occult sensed the dreadful force and those with malice in their heart for vampires…. It seemed to build a growing rage… they were truly seeing red.

[Charlotte Ruse]

Charlotte had been unable to settle all evening. She'd tried using the computer, watching a film, reading a book, doing some crafts, writing in her journal - but nothing had worked. She'd felt fidgety and out of sorts all day, and the further into the evening things got, the more intense the fidgeting was getting. The journal and pen had been dumped on the couch and she'd got up, hauling on her boots before heading out into the city. She hoped that a walk would help to clear her head and settle her nerves. There really was no need for her to be feeling the way she was. She had a home - which reminded her, she needed to repay her boss the forward she'd given her. She had most of it again, there was still 10K left to gather.

She passed a couple of warehouses and wondered if there would be something inside that she could maybe snatch that might help her get that last 10K she needed. Her fingers slid into her jean pocket and she pulled out a small lock pick kit that she'd recently purchased. Then with a quick glance around, she slipped through the gate and up to the door, letting herself in with ease to see what there was that sold on the blackmarket here.

A half hour later, she emerged with a few items in a plastic bag she'd grabbed and closed the door silently behind her, hurried to the street and then began to walk as if nothing untoward had happened. This little lot would easily net her a few hundred dollars, so it was a good little haul and made her smile. However, when she turned into a more populated area her feet stopped working and stopped walking. It felt like there was electricity in the air. All of the hairs on her arms and on the back of her neck were standing up on end and there was a shiver running up and down her spine.

Something wasn't right. Something was in the air. And it made her feel very, very uneasy.

[Chad Worthington III]

*This holds a space*

[Robert Pratt]

Robert was in the sewers, it had seemed to have become his home from home these nights. It was the best place to get out your frustrations and it was nice and dark so no-one could see the look on his face. He knew he looked pained and drawn, like a man who'd been through the wringer and barely survived. In fact, he wasn't sure he had survived to be honest, not the way he felt. He was still trying to reach out to the hunters in the sewers, wandering the dark tunnels and wading through who knew what to get from one huddle to the next. However there was no luck so far tonight. Every one of them had simply attacked him instead of listening to what he was trying to say to them - and to be honest, it was depressing the **** out of him!

He sent his latest kill floating away with the Solace rune on his chest to help him into the afterlife and turned to walk the opposite way. When he'd been fighting the man, it had felt like he'd twisted his wrist - possibly spraining it - so he tried out a few moves as he walked and found there was no pain there in the slightest. He puzzled over it for a few steps, but decided that he'd been imaginging things, or that it had been a contac or collision injury that had just jarred his wrist momentarily. He'd been down in the sewers long enough and he needed some fresh air - the stench down there was just getting too much for him - so he sauntered along until he came to a manhole cover and quickly climbed out.

He was in the middle of the city, surrounded by a number of people, and it wasn't what he needed right now. Right now he wanted the peace and quiet of the wilderness - and if he kept on moving then he was sure the fae wouldn't get to him. The fastest way to the wilderness from where he was - teleportation. He thought about where he wanted to be and where he wanted to go, and it wasn't long before he felt that shift in the reality around him. He opened his eyes expecting to see wild trees and plants and flowers.... and found himself in the park.

He stood there and looked around, more than a little dumbfounded. He'd never mis teleported before. Nothing had ever gone wrong with that power. Others, sure. But not that one. He looked around himself and saw other people with that thoughtful look on their faces. Something was going on here, and he had no idea what it was. He didn't fancy being out and about with something fritzing his powers, so he headed to West Towers that was just at the other side of the park, and to his apartment there. He planned to watch the city from the window, and see what was going on.

[Wolfgang]

Wolfgang sat down to dinner with Julianna in the modern restaurant. The large room was dark and felt somewhat intimate even though they were surrounded by other couples and business groups who sat at their individual tables talking up a storm and drinking wine like it was going out of fashion. “Would you like a bottle of something?” Wolfgang asked the gorgeous woman across from him, Leiren had been right, trust him to manipulate the mind of a girl who looked like she should be modelling, not collecting his suits from the dry-cleaners and going through his paper work to see that all the accounts were in order.

There was a large fish tank to the left of them displaying a vast amount of the most exotic fish Wolfgang had set eyes on in a long time; they probably cost the restaurant a fortune to buy and keep. The music that played was soft and unobtrusive, sounded like there was a bit of saxophone in the mix, pieced with some other instruments that could pull off a very pleasing, mellow sound. There weren’t so much wall as there were the odd supporting beam dotted about the room, large glass windows lined the hexagon shaped dining area, giving the customers a full three-sixty view over Harper Rock, save for the area the kitchen was tucked away in alongside the entrance from the hall and elevator.

Wolfgang glanced across at Julianna; she was wearing a revealing little number that cut off mid-thigh. It was one of those ‘little black dresses’ that girls saved for special occasions, though Wolfgang couldn’t imagine why she thought dinner with him was fitting for the use of such a dress. It was made up of lace at the front which highlighted a girls best asset, or pair should we say, flowing down over her middle to reveal the stunning blue sapphire clutched by the silver claws of her belly-button ring, before ending in a fancy V shape just above the lace of her underwear. The rest of the dress was a simple black material that looked almost transparent in some lights against the woman’s bronze skin, and done up with a long row of the smallest silver buttons he had ever seen in his life; there must have been at least fifty of them.

Her dark chocolate-brown hair was done up high, long wispy ends spilling down in loose immaculate waves ending between her slender shoulder-blades. Her charming blue, almost silver coloured eyes were surrounded with a thick helping of black makeup (to the point where you couldn’t distinguish her long black lashes from their blacked out back-drop), and dashed with gold, or was it silver under lid? Her dark brows were thin which Wolfgang often thought left girls looking in a constant state of shock, but Julianna had managed to avoid such.

Look-at-me gold earrings hung from her lobes dotted with that same sapphire blue that painted her freshly manicured nails. She didn’t wear a necklace or any rings and the rest of her makeup was rather understating, save for the light pink hue that had been brushed across her cheekbones. All in all, the woman was a bite-sized piece of eye-candy, right down to the shimmering gold of her too-high-heels. On the way in she had managed to turn every head in the room; oblivious of course to such attentions.

“I’ve never tried Ice wine,” Julianna admitted, her pretty pink lips turned up in one of those smile cracked and revealed the poster-white teeth beneath.

“Eiswein?” Wolfgang called it by the German equivalent and smiled in turn. “You do know that’s a dessert wine?”

“No,” squeaked the woman. “Is it nice?”

“You mean to tell me that you grew up in Canada and have never tried Ice Wine?” Wolfgang just shook his head as he watched the guilty smile across from him unfold. “Seventy-five percent of the world’s Ice Wine is grown in Ontario!”

Julianna giggled a rather endearing sound he had grown quite fond of in the time he had known her. “Where do they grow the rest?”

“Germany, I think others have tried but production is risky and the profit margins aren’t worth it when the risk of losing your entire crop for the year is more than likely.” Wolf told her.

“How do they make it?”

He looked at the woman as if to say ‘really? I take you out to dinner finally and this is what you want to discuss?’ Wolfgang shook his head and smiled, he had grown up in Ontario, so he knew a bit about what went on before and during manufacture. “The grapes are frozen while on the vine which makes the water in the fruit freeze while the sugars and other dissolved solids do not which concentrates the flavour after fermentation as the liquids were frozen beforehand. They have to press that concentrated deliciousness from the frozen grapes which produces a very sweet wine,” Wolfgang explained.

“Does it come in sparkling?” Julianna seemed to ponder as if she hadn’t meant to ask aloud.

Wolfgang had to think back to a visit to one of the local museums. He had always been the type of guy to read anything once and seemingly remember it; his friends had always hated that about him, especially in High School come exam time. “Yes, Konrad Ejbich was the first to create Sparkling Ice Wine but his product was never approved because no such category existed but it was later, ten years in fact, produced again by Inniskillin Wines… So I’m sure we can find you a bottle if you insist on trying it.”

“You are like a walking library,” Julianna teased.

“Far from it,” he scolded playfully. “I always seemed to remember those useless facts that are sometimes handy in pub quizzes but are otherwise never given a second thought.”

This sort of discussion went on for a time before the waiter finally made it to their table. It was a classy restaurant, all the waiters wore designer suits and ties with polished shoes and neatly done up hair that was slicked back against their skulls. Wolfgang could smell the mild stink of sweat through the man’s clothes which it seemed he had tried to mask with a cheap deodorant; one of those sprayed types young people seemed to like painting their pits with. “Good evening and welcome to—“ he went on and started explaining the menu and then special menu followed by ‘the chiefs choice’ which always meant food that needed to be used up quickly before it went bad and couldn’t be used to turn a profit anymore.

“We’ll take the menus thanks,” Wolfgang ordered, he didn’t want Julianna putting any three day old fish in her mouth or God knows how old the steak was he seemed to have suggested in every menu.

As the waiter set down the menus Julianna looked across at Wolfgang and smiled warmly. Damn that girl for being able to make him smile as easily as she had managed to now. He forced the smile from his face by turning to look around the room, there wasn’t anyone in the dining room that he could put a name to, but they all looked very well dressed and pompous.

The waiter asked the pair if they would like something to drink. “Ice Wine!” Julianna blurted before Wolfgang had a chance to process the thought.

The waiter looked at him and he agreed to what the woman had suggested with a nod. “I’ll have the same thank you.”

As the waiter then squeezed past Wolfgang, the tall male leaned forward and laid his arm down upon the table, staring across at Julianna intently. She leaned in and turned her head ever so slightly, she knew the look meant he wanted to say something and that he didn’t want anyone around them to overhear him. “Look at the big guy near the fish tank, his toupee is falling off.”

Julianna did the discreet wiggle and turn, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible in order to glance over at the man. Her hand went to her mouth quickly to stop herself from laughing and her gaze shot back to stare Wolfgang in the eye. “Oh my God his wife just noticed!” she hissed the whispered words and looked down at the menu, her hair curtaining her face from anyone who would turn to look at the pretty woman who sat there, now in stitches. It took one of those giggle-snorts for Wolfgang to join her and the two only stopped laughing when the waiter had returned with their wine.

“Are you ready to order?” He looked from the straight-faced Wolfgang West to a very red-faced Julianna.

“Pumpkin soup for me,” Wolfgang said and looked across at Julianna who was still biting her lower lip. She hurriedly flipped through the pages of the menu only to order the same thing; typical girl move, Wolfgang thought to himself. “You want fries with that?” He teased the woman and she slapped his arm playfully.

“We don’t serve fries,” the waiter interjected and Wolfgang stared at the man, the joke had obviously gone straight over his head, really, what sort of food joints would sell fries when they charged thirty-eight dollars for a pumpkin soup people could make at home for four?

“Thanks,” Wolfgang smiled and picked up the menus to hold them up for the waiter. “That will be all.”

During the wait for their meals the two spoke about business, how the hotel was going and what the stock market might look like next month. Julianna suggested that Wolfgang keep running the club at a loss, even though it was doing quite well, because they would be able to claim tax back. He smiled when she came up with these sorts of ideas, she wasn’t just a pretty face after all; the girl had a brain that he was determined to put to good use. “And what of your next business venture, Wolfgang? Have you decided yet?”

“Yes I think so,” he admitted. “I want to buy the—“

“Soups up,” the waiter interrupted and put the stark white bowls down on top of their over-sized dinner plates. “Watch those,” he suggested. “They are very hot.”

“Thank you,” the pair replied, though Wolfgang was still a bit aloof in his response, he didn’t like being interrupted, especially by waiters. He hoped the guy wasn’t expecting a tip this evening because he sure as hell didn’t deserve one. An ‘excuse me’ every now and then wouldn’t kill him, surely.

“Can I get you anything else to drink?” He asked.

Wolfgang looked across at Julianna’s glass, he didn’t realise she had finished it already. “Just bring out the bottle please,” he told the waiter and the man leaned down to whisper the price in Wolfgang’s ear. “In the country it is made, you will change so little for it?” Wolfgang smiled and gave a wink across the table to his date. Of course the price the waiter had whispered into the man’s ear had been horrendous, but given the circumstances Wolfgang didn’t mind paying just this once and if it confused the waiter again, all the better. The man hurried away to fetch the bottle.

“Where were we?” Wolfgang asked. He lifted his spoon and dipped it into the soup, only coating the instrument with a thin layer before he lifted it to his lips and closed them over it. “Mm,” he smiled as he pulled the clean spoon from between his cool lips. “It’s delicious.”

Of course he wouldn’t know if the soup was delicious, he wasn’t going to swallow it after all and it’s not as if his taste buds worked anymore. The tall man picked up his napkin and did the old ‘fake cough’ pushing the soup from his mouth onto the napkin before folding it and setting it down on top of the table, trapped under his right hand. “Excuse me,” he said as he raised his dark brows, “It’s hot, I taste a mighty fine helping of pepper in there, be careful.”

“I think we were talking about…” Julianna looked thoughtful for a time, it was clear that she had forgotten or that something else had caught her attention, something behind Wolfgang. “Wow,” she said, “Look at the moon!”

Wolfgang turned in his seat to look out one of the full-length windows that walled the entire restaurant. They had come into the place just after dusk and he had noticed then that the moon was rather large tonight and had a strange red tinge to it.

“Do you think there will be a lunar eclipse tonight?” Julianna asked him.

“A Hunter’s Moon? Don’t you need a full moon for an eclipse?” Wolfgang said slowly as he looked at the moon, he was trying to decide if it was waxing or waning. “No, there shouldn’t be one of them until 2014, 2015 maybe.”

“It is!” Julianna insisted, “It’s a Blood Moon!”

“A Blood Moon?” He asked; he had never heard anyone use such a thing, not regarding something that was real at least, tangible. “I thought that was just something they used in horror movies and fairy-tale stories,” he said quickly and then looked at the moon again. It was almost orange in colour with a faint red glow that most moons got right around dusk, but dusk had passed, it was dark now. His dark brow furrowed.

“You know, every time we have one something weird happens, natural disasters, war,” Julianna rambled on until Wolfgang turned to look at her slowly.

“Oh you aren’t one of them are you?” He smiled. “Aliens are going to come back to Earth and turn us all into slaves!”

Julianna giggled. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I like to keep an open mind.”

For a time he watched Julianna eat in silence. He didn’t say anything just sat and thought about her words and every now and then she would look up at him and ask if everything was okay and he would nod and admit that he just felt a little under the weather, but that it shouldn’t stop her from enjoying the evening.

A few more minutes passed without the two speaking and Wolfgang found himself staring down into the orange bowl of soup, his icy orbs narrowed subtly, he felt as though he had forgotten something all of the sudden and as he continued to look at the soup and the strike that had been marked through the swirl of cream and chives with his spoon, he felt as if he was now having trouble seeing.

The man’s hands went to his face, fingertips pawing at his swollen brow, an unusually thick set nose and uncharacteristically large lips; even the flesh over his cheekbones seemed to have expanded. Within seconds he was squinting to see the bowl in front of him and, panic stricken, the man pushed his chair back away from the table and tried to remember where the nearest exit was. Julianna looked up and as if on cue began to choke on the mouthful of soup she hadn’t quite managed to swallow before catching sight of her date. “Oh my God! Are you ok?” She asked in a tone that saw every table within close vicinity stop what they were doing and turn to look at the pair.

Wolfgang panicked and moved to turn and found himself suddenly colliding and tripping over the waiter who was finally returning with their bottle of wine. The waiter fell forward and crushed the wooden chair Wolfgang had been sitting in, throwing his tray with the wine glasses and bucket of ice forward. The bottle itself had been catapulted up into the air and went straight through the glass of the long, sizeable fish tank to the left of them; it must have hit the glass just in the right place as water rushed through the shattered wall spewing exotic fish across the carpet. What followed was a sea of screams and sudden wave of busy activity as people scrambled to move away from the saturated tables, plates, dinners, and carpet. This did, however, give Wolfgang time to escape.

The tall Vampire darted out of the room and into the hall. He ran towards the elevator and frantically pushed the buttons to summon the lift. He then looked up to the floor numbers above the door and decided this was going to take too long. Celerity… He had the power to dart across the city in the blink of an eye, he just needed to picture where he wanted to go, somewhere reasonably quiet this time of night… Cherrydale!

When Wolfgang concentrated on the place he wanted to go and shut his eyes for a second before running towards the window at the other end of the hall, he was a few steps into his dash when he realised he wasn’t going any faster than his human ability might take him. He stopped and plastered himself to the wall like an octopus squeezing a rock and tried to calm himself.

What the hell was going on, why couldn’t he use his powers? He felt his fangs dig into his lower lip and hissed when they pierced the stony skin. He licked the black blood from his lips with a swift roll of his tongue and walked towards the elevator which had finally arrived; invisible, that’s what he would do, the same thing all Shadows were infamous for, he would go invisible and walk out of this place under their noses and out of sight of cameras, those he was sure to face in the lobby.

He tightened his tie and stood in front of the doors, when they opened he was faced with a slim, rather short individual who appeared to be heading into the restaurant with a bunch of flowers in his right hand. Wolfgang knew he was safe, he was invisible… right? The short male looked up at the taller man and made eye contact. “Oh ****.”

The guy dropped his flowers and pressed himself back against the wall of the elevator as Wolfgang moved inside. He then darted past the confused Vampire out into the hall and took a final look back over his shoulder before running into the dining room screaming. “Shut, shut, shut, shut, shut, shut, shut,” Wolfgang said hysterically as he pressed the ‘close’ sign on the elevator door followed by the bottom for the lobby.

So celerity hadn’t worked, that was okay, he was relatively new at using that power, but going invisible was his signature move, hell would freeze over before he forgot how to pull that one off; something was terribly wrong. The ride down to the ground floor was longer than Wolf remembered, but it gave him time to think. The man pulled his jacket off and held it up against his face so that he could only just see over the top of the fold he had made in his hurry to hide his swollen features. When the doors opened he shot from the elevator like a horse from the starting gates, crushing the flowers under his heavy thread as he made for the exit, bowling some poor old woman in his path that hadn’t been able to get out of the way quick enough. “Sorry!” He called before he reached the door. “I’m having a terribly bad reaction to the pumpkin soup upstairs!”

Once Wolfgang was out on the street he quickly tuck himself down a nice side alley, he needed to get in contact with someone, someone who might know what the hell was going on. Wolfgang reached for his phone and dialled the number of the only man he assumed old enough that might be able to tell him what a Blood Moon meant for Vampires. The screen lit up and that familiar ringing sung in his right ear. Just then he felt a cold, sharp sensation shoot through his skull. The large, masculine man of six-four dropped the phone; the name Chad Worthington had come up on the screen in little blue letters. Wolfgang fell forward with a mighty thump and watched, unable to move and two, large, boot clad feet strode past him and an unfamiliar voice spoke. “Stupid, revolting creature.”

Wolfgang only noticed that the man had a slight accent. Another sharp sensation and the blade was removed. A blade to the back of the head wouldn’t kill a Vampire, but it could sure knock them about a bit. “Ah, this one has black blood, take him boys.”

[Cinnamon Cherrywhip]

CC had pulled herself together a little bit from her earlier emo fest. She'd simply decided to ignore the weird *** emotions that were coursing through herself in an unexplained manner, and decided to instead focus on killing ****. Pru wanted her to train, so she was going to train. Then she was going to show the damnable woman what she could do by running her through with a blade. Yup, that was the healthy way to deal with everything - wasn't it?

She was on her feet and dancing around a hunter who was standing there trying to burn her to a crisp. She was having none of it however, and when he reached out with his palms burning, she dodged and ducked away from them. Really, she was playing with him - cutting him here and there as she nimbly stepped into his guard. She liked to see things bleed, always had, and so she was taking great delight in seeing him bleed as he was. She shot a wave of confusion at him and then smirked at the look on his face as it worked. However, his face had been annoying her to no end for a while now - so the best way to resolve that issue, stab it.

He slumped to her feet, dead, so she shoved him against the wall and stalked off to find the next with an unsatisfied growl after looting his body. He'd had a keycard on him, and she had no use for it, so as she passed Soup she slipped it into the womans cleavage with a nod and a smile. She did like Soup, she seemed a good woman who knew what she was talking about. And so far, she'd managed not to piss CC off, so that automatically moved her to the top of the list!

She had no idea what was going on outside, nor did she care. She had switched her mind onto killing and maiming everything that looked at her funny in this building. So that's what she was doing. **** the rest of them, and especially - **** Pru.

[Gambat]

Darkness had set in and the lights turned off. The blonde, tall giant flipped the switch and pulled the sign to Restaurant. The open sign slowly burned out as he removed the plug from the wall. Cleaning still needed to be done but he could always do that in awhile. Taking a deep breath the man smiled as he looked threw the registers. 'To night was a good night.' He smiled as he grabbed his cigarette pack and zippo making his was for the door. Dropping his sunglasses down over his eyes as the giant pressed against the wall.
The cherry burned bright as he took a drag. The dark blue dress shirt button only half way up hi chest as the sleeves remained rolled half up his arm. The gray dress pants and black dress shoes showed he was a man of business. Working his immortality away was his hobby but the man still had class. His baby blue orbs traced the smoke lifting into the sky. That was when it caught he attention.
"Red..." He paused just looking at it. His eyes were fixed until he seen the dark shadow jump and blur threw it like an old horror film. More then one blur passed by over the roof tops. Something was very off setting to him as he thought to himself. "Maybe it`s time for a stroll..." He mumbled to himself as started to walk in the direction of they were moving.