Path of the Vampire forum

The sewers, while they constantly assault his nostrils when in them, are really the only place to find hordes of Paladins and foot soldiers. He’s been hunting down here for the better half of an hour. He’s not seeing normally at the moment, it’s too dark down here to trust his regular sight in the shadows. Sure, his eyes might have adjusted to the absence of light, but this form of vision is far better for hunting. His eyes can see every difference in heat in the area around him, the walls are cooler than the filth below him. Every hunter he has seen so far has given off an almost orange look in his eyes, and that’s how he knows where humans are. Other vampires are generally cooler to his eyesight, almost blending in with their surroundings. Axel cleans the blood from the last hunter off his sword with a rag that he keeps with him while he hunts, anything really. Blood is meant to be spilt, not to soil his blade. There is a sound around the corner, he looks and sees that it’s a hunter, two of them down the same ‘corridor’ of the darkness. He looks at them, watching their movements. The clean blade is his best option for these vermin.

He approaches them with his blade draw and out behind him, angled in a way that when he approaches he’ll swing it with all his force, body spinning and taking the man’s head. This is now how things were meant to go apparently. As Axel turned the corner, he charged the men. They seemed to be ready for him, by some means. Their bullets to his gut, tearing through the flesh, painfully and out the otherside, catch him off guard. He slows his charge, looking down at his body. Two bullets. Usually when hunters shoot at him, they only hit him once a night. He’s usually able to ‘dance’ around them throughout the night, until he gets bored of hunting them or feels that he no longer can. Slowing he feels a rage inside of him, that he’s only felt once in a good while. It’s that astonished type of anger, where you’re confused and angry at the same time. The sword makes contact with the hunter, as they enter hand to hand battle. Several slashes, then finally Axel stabs the human through the heart, while the other continues to take shots at him. He’s using the one on his blade as a shield from the oncoming bullets.

Something happens within him, and he can’t explain it. He needs a hand, he knows he does, as he cannot reach his rifle with his hands still on the sword. If he drops the sword, he drops the man. If he drops the man, then he’ll be covered in more bullet holes. Knowing he needs someone to come and help him, he unknowingly, with no control over the new power, reaches out to his sire. Ripping the man from wherever he may be, he summons him through the realm to the point behind the other hunter. He blinks a few times, not making eye-contact with the man as he appears as he doesn’t want to give away his position, but he’s confused. He wonders if his sire could feel when he was in danger and came to him. Axel has no idea that he is the cause behind Jesse being here. He nods his head to the hunter before him, trying to give a queue to help him kill this one so that he can move on to another tunnel of the sewers.

I can’t say that I’ve had much time to myself, lately. Two new childer, and freedom. Freedom from the weight of a depression that I couldn’t identify, and freedom from the Eyrie, and the blindness that I had endured for a week. If not with the new progeny, or with any of the other members of the bloodline, I am hunting with Tytonidae or brushing up on my skills. I’d been practicing rituals so much that I’d gotten clumsy with the blade and the gun, and so I’d take to the sewers a lot to train.

Given how busy I have been over the past few days I don’t get much time with Grey – Grey, who I am addicted to. I worry about her constantly. And mixed in with the worry is a desire and a passion so intense, so unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Love, I suppose, is a bit like that. Twenty-four years of age and I had never known what it felt like to love anyone until now. Fully, whole-heartedly, so much that if she were to die, I’d immediately want to follow. What worries me is that even then, we’ll be separated. She’ll go to some lovely human heaven and I’ll be stuck in the Shadow Realm. Fear is my constant companion when I’m not with Grey. Fear that she might be in danger. No one else knows about her but Velveteen and Micah, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean other people might not find out, sooner or later. And they won’t be happy. I know that I have to convince her. She says she’s not ready, but I have to convince her that she has to be, or that she has to make that sacrifice. The longer we wait, the worse the consequences will be.

But for now, all I want to do is crawl into bed with her. I’ve already been out to feed; even so, I wonder if she’ll let me taste her tonight. She’s already in bed. I don’t know whether she’s asleep yet, but I’ll probably wake her up. I am bare-foot and shirtless as I approach the bed. I begin to unbutton the hem of my jeans – I have pulled the zipper down as I feel that familiar sensation upon my skin. A tingling, and all my hairs stand on end before my physical body is eviscerated. It’s not painful. A little weird, but not painful. I know someone is summoning me. And I have literally nearly been caught with my pants down.

I’m not worried. I know how it works. If I don’t trust the person, they shouldn’t be able to do this. Right? I’m not being summoned in order to be immediately skewered – though when I land, I have my doubts. I am in the sewers. There’s a skirmish taking place in front of me. It takes a second for me to realise that I recognise one of the swiftly moving bodies – Axel. Against two footsoldiers. He makes eyes at me as if I should take on the one who hasn’t yet seen me. Well, ****. My hands are still on my zipper, which I take the time to zip back up. I do the button back up, too. It’s time enough for the second footsoldier to realise that I’m there. He swings around and, in complete shock, begins to wildly fire bullets in my direction. I bolt to the left, avoiding any wounds.

I am unarmed. It’s not often that I train without weapons, but I know I have other things at my disposal. My shadow, for one, is immediately on alert – almost like a third person. Three against two. These footsoldiers haven’t got a chance. Within seconds my fingers have elongated into savage claws.

The footsoldier and I engage in a dance – a dance where I deftly avoid both bullet and blade – there are a few close calls, of course, that blade nearly slicing my face in half twice. The footsoldier, however, suffers a curse which makes him clumsy and stupid, as well as a solid shadow skewered through his chest. The two combined cause him to drop his blade; again, he tries to shoot at me, but I duck and roll. I hear the sound of empty clips. Again, luck is on my side. As I roll, I retrieve the fallen blade and as I swiftly come to my feet I slice that sharp edge across the footsoldier’s throat. In a rage, I swing the blade high, and bring it down at an angle with such strength that it severs tendon and muscle, the head rolling from the footsoldier’s neck. The body tumbled to the grounds seconds after the head splashes in the tepid water. Dead.

I keep the blade as I slowly gather my wits and come to terms with my sudden surroundings. I arch an inquisitive brow at Axel.

Axel doesn’t notice that his sire has his pants literally down until he charges the hunter and attacks him. His head wants to shake back and forth, confused by the fact that this is how he chose to teleport to the aid of Axel, but hey… to each their own. His black eyes watch the scene between the two of them. Jesse is unarmed and it confuses the man even more that Jesse would come that way if he were to teleport this way. His eyes watch the scuffle until the man is dead. The body crumbles down to the bacteria and disease ridden water. Once the combat is done, the look on Jesse’s face only does more to perplex the invoker. What does that look mean? That’s a question that he has to ask himself. It used to be that Jesse couldn’t talk, and at times Axel forgets that Jesse can, at the moment, convey words without use of a pen and paper. It takes him a moment to realize this, but he doesn’t want to speak to his sire with a dead body on his sword. His foot goes into the chest of the man and forces him off his blade. The boot then meets the Hunter’s head, to ensure that death has happened.

Now that the body is off the blade, he cleans it off then sheaths it back into it’s decorated home. Instead of questioning what the look is about, Axel walks forward, with another question, as he still has no idea that he was the purpose Jesse stands before him. “When did you get the ability to teleport?” If he understands how learning powers works, one has to first learn the path that the power is from. He also knows, from experiences, that Jesse uses Necromancer powers the most often. So, perhaps that is the path that he had started as. If Jesse has spoken to him about his path before, he can’t recall it at the moment. “Didn’t know that you had opened the path of the mystic…” He is obviously still confused about what is going on here. Axel’s foot taps the one that Jesse had finished making sure that it is at a point of rigor mortis. With a severed head, of course it is, but Axel likes to make sure. Because, you know, zombies, which would usually be a laughable. In Harpers Rock, though it’s completely legitimate.

It seems that confusion is rife in the small space between us. Axel thinks that my presence is something that I had initiated; that I, for some reason, had teleported myself to him. I slowly shake my head – I observe the sword in my grasp, but it’s nothing special. A mere Hunter’s sword, the quality of which isn’t as good as some of the other weaponry I have at home. Rather than keep it and add to the pile of junk I already have collected, I throw it into the water after its owner. I cross my arms over my chest, fingers now ordinary and smooth again, and lean up against the wall. I have taken my time to respond, because I don’t see why there’s any rush. There’s a glint to my eye and a small curl of a smile at the corner of my lips.

”No, sadly. I wish I knew how to teleport myself. The only thing I can do that’s similar is summon you, or anyone else, to where I am,” I say. I glance down at my attire – which is not much at all – and my weaponless state. I do not doubt that this is something Axel has done without realising, rather than something I have done. I laugh, then, low and yet highly amused.

”I was about to crawl into bed with my lover, pretty boy. You’d want to hope I wasn’t thinking about you,” I say, voice still husky, ragged like the voice of a chainsaw. I quite like it. Of course, I do think about Axel quite often – or I have spent a lot of time in the past few months pondering the whereabouts of all my progeny, not just this one. I wonder, these days, if I were to try to summon Axel, whether I’d be able to. From what I understand, it has something to do with trust. He would have to have trust in me for the power to work, and I’d given up that any of my childer wanted anything to do with me.

Of course, those kinds of egoless thoughts are now slowly dissipating, given the return of my sanity. And, after Felicity’s return, I wonder whether there might be further explanation for all of them. I’d assumed too much, and had focused far too much on my own assumed shortcomings. There might be things that I don’t know. I figure this spontaneous meeting might be a chance for me to question Axel, though he is the only progeny whose whereabouts I have at least been aware of.

I don’t ask the question that’s on the tip of my tongue; the suggestion that, perhaps, Axel has learned the power to summon without realising it. I wait for him to connect the dots.

The younger vampire does think that his sire has brought himself here in aid of himself, that his sire would do that despite the things Axel has done is what surprises him the most. At times, Axel worries that Jesse hates him for being with Nix, their recent conversation over the things had made him paranoid about this. He hates it, a piece of him, deep inside what little soul he has left is a worship of the man before him. The man that has given him, in essence eternal life. The blade is thrown at the owner and Axel doesn’t take his eyes off the other vampire in the tunnel. There is a pause, this pause is going on too long and he almost wants to speak again to question more. Finally, though, there are words as his sire speaks for the first time since his question. Though, it’s not the words he really wants to hear. Jesse claims that he hasn’t done this, which is odd. The answer doesn’t make any sense to him, because Axel doesn’t know at the moment that he has the power. The only thing he can think is that Jesse’s words couldn’t be a lie so that means someone else has summoned him maybe. He immediately starts to look around dark tunnel, looking for another vampire that may have summoned Jesse to help him.

“I”, there is a short pause, “don’t see anyone else…” He still doesn’t understand that he has learned to do this, he hardly remembers talking to the wraith that allowed him to learn the powers to begin with. “Unless they ran off and I can’t…”, again he pauses hearing what Jesse has to say about wanting to hope he’s not thinking of him. He’s absolutely right, Axel doesn’t want Jesse to think about him when going to bed with his mate. In his head; however, he is trying to figure out how Jesse could be here. He almost considers telepathically speaking to someone to appraise his sire, though he trusts his sire. He trusts him to the point of worship. The gears are grinding for what appears to be several moments. Finally, it clicks that he’s done this act of power and brought his sire to him. He doesn’t say anything, just gets this grin on his face. After the pause, the third and longest one. “I must have learned how to summon.” It took a while, because he had to individually put all the points of data together himself.

Instead of elaborating on why it took so long, what brought him to that acknowledgement, etc, Axel moves the conversation right along. “So while I have you here, how are you?” He grins, still as bright as when he’d discovered he had been the summoner that brought Jesse to him. “I know we talk on the family board, but I hardly think that’s enough.” Here’s that near-piousness to the Cult of Fforde that he has, showing his constant desire to be close to Jesse - talk in person.

I stand absolutely still with my arms crossed over my chest. I can see the cogs turning as Axel speaks his reasoning; as his thoughts tumble from his tongue, clues as to the path his mind has taken. First, he thinks that someone else has summoned me here for some reason. Even as he looks around, so too do I. I’m imagining the scenario – some nefarious nitwit wanting to commit mass genocide on men covered in tattoos. All number of possibilities collect in the back of my brain, but they are fleeting suggestions. Idiotic scenarios that flitter and drift like dreams upon awakening. They don’t stick. Because I already know the answer.

It’s only after a few moments of silence that it seems to register with Axel; he has done it himself. I do wonder, of course, why he should summon me in the middle of battle. These are the thoughts that do stick – the ones that had percolated in the forefront of my mind even as Axel slowly drifted to the right conclusion. He grins. He seems pleased with himself, that he has discovered this new power. But apart from acknowledging it, asking questions about it, or even celebrating its presence, he instead asks how I am.

I hate that question. It’s such a socially expectation. A thing that every person asks every other person so often that the answers have become lies. Fine. Good. When most people are never really fine or good. They just lie, because it’s easier. I probably flinch. I reach up to fix the gauge in my ear – somehow it feels like it’s got loose – and offer an idle shrug of my shoulders.

”Better,” I say. Though I figure it’s a rather vague answer. I don’t reckon that Axel has any idea of what I have been going through. At the fight night, where I’d got myself beaten to a pulp and was asking for death, he’d seemed entirely disinterested, and had left without a second glance. I don’t think he’s been victim to my scathing violence – my attempt, for the last few months, to push everyone away. And I don’t know how much Phoenix has told him; about how she stabbed my eyes out, and how I was on my knees asking her to finish me off.

All things that I’d prefer not to divulge, of course. I’ve figured out what the problem was, with help. I know now how to avoid any further instances of dickery, on my behalf – more dickery than what I normally deliver, anyway.

”And you? I hope you didn’t inadvertently summon me here because you were imagining my face on one of those fucks,” I say, gesturing to the dead hunters. I arch a curious brow.

Though he is intelligent, Axel won’t lie and say that he doesn’t have the moments where he’s a bit brain-dead and thinks things that don’t make much sense. The idea that someone else would summon Jesse here for the sheer reason to help him kill foot soldiers in the sewers is really just blatantly wrong. He knows this now and feels a bit dumb about the whole thing, assuming something just because he didn’t think that it could be him; however, it’s proof that there is some form of humility in his being. He lets it go instead of trying to explain himself to his sire. He’s sure that his sire knows that he’s a bit dense at times, we’re all… were all human. There are little things within every vampire, at least every vampire Axel knows, that tie into the very thing that used to make them human. He eyes down at all the dead foot soldiers, and switches his vision to what he likes to call ‘predator’ vision. It’s infrared, essentially, able to see the heat signature of people through walls. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around them, that he can see even with this vision. Safe from ambush.

The question, though his sire hates it, and he can almost see it on his face every time he’s asked it in the past, he asks it because he genuinely cares how his sire is doing. Some people lie, say they’re fine, but Axel expects that Jesse wouldn’t really lie to him about the reality of his well being in a way. He hopes that his sire trusts him enough to know that he’s not about to brush Jesse’s feelings off. The one word answer, really doesn’t help. Axel doesn’t, though, understand what Jesse has been going through, because there are stretches of time, painful stretches of time, where he and Jesse don’t speak much. Axel doesn’t know why but the lack of closeness to his sire at times can make him irritable. It’s like he has to have interaction with him or he’ll get moody and start snapping at people. He tries to avoid it, so being in the same room, or standing next to his sire in the Eyrie always tend to soothe over that feeling. Nix hasn’t told him anything about her adventures with Jesse, primarily because Axel has asked her to make amends with his sire. Though, he doesn’t know if that’s the case.

The mere fact that Jesse would ask that question of Axel, if he were attacking soldiers with the envisionment of his sire. Axel looks at him, with almost a look of disbelief on his face. There is a second of silence, maybe longer, Axel scanning the area again. “No. I had ran out of ammunition for my rifle and they caught me at the end of a tunnel. I was in the line of fire of the lot of them. Killed one but had to use it as a body shield for the bullets.” He explains himself. “I suppose I summoned you for help and subconsciously did so.” There is a second or two where he starts to move past his sire, “We should get out of the filth, especially seeing as this gun fire will have alerted the hornet’s nest to our whereabouts.” He’s not really that worried about the soldiers now that there are two of them. He’s more focused on continuing this conversation at a place where the two of them can be more relaxed if they’re to continue talking.

I don’t feel the need to apologise, even as I see the disbelief written very clearly over Axel’s features. In my estimation, my feelings on the matter are justified. I have a sire who seems unable to make up her mind whether she likes me or hates me. I know that at the moment I appear again to be in the bad books – again, all access to Altaire revoked. That’s fine, that’s her prerogative, and her loss, in the end. And here, I have a childe who has decided that she is worth sleeping with. Worth marrying. If she hates me, isn’t it reasonable to assume that she would try to transfer that hate onto her fiancé? That she would, in her very persuasive way, convince him that I am not worth the dirt under their feet?

As Axel answers me, I realise that maybe she has not succeeded in doing so; maybe she hasn’t even tried. I do not know the full story. I have no idea what kind of pillow talk the two of them indulge in, nor do I care. Not anymore. Two weeks ago it might have torn me up inside, but now? Now I’ve learned to let go and move on, and to not take anything too personally. It’s the only way to get by in this world.

But, just as I have recently realised that I shouldn’t have assumed the reasons for my progeny’s absences, I realise now that I shouldn’t assume anything about the way Axel sees me. For all I know there could be other explanations for his behaviour. I understand now that it is better to ask the pertinent questions rather than to sit in silence.

I don’t know what to say, that I should have been the first person that Axel would think of to help him, in his time of need. It throws me for a loop that I am not still in bed with Grey; that it is not Phoenix here, at Axel’s side. I start to wonder whether I should feel real and actual shame for assuming that Axel is fine without me; that he has all the help that he should need, that he should want. I simply nod as I follow Axel. I don’t care about the hornet’s nest. I know that we could no doubt handle whatever comes our way. But I figure this is as good a time as any to catch up with this progeny of mine.

”Corvidae, maybe,” I say. I know that Axel has an apartment, there. ”Or whatever exit will get us close enough to Larch – with the weather the way it is outside, I think I’d draw far too much attention to myself,” I say. Sure, I couldn’t care less about showing off the art that litters my skin, but it’s probably not worth it, as far as the Masquerade is concerned.

I don’t actually know where we are. As the silence descends, I take in my surroundings, looking for some clue as to which part of the maze that are the sewers I have been summoned to.

Corvidae is likely the closest place in the city they can go without Jesse being looked at funny for being without clothes. It seems to be a recurring theme with the outings that Axel and Jesse have, the man always seems to be in his underwear for whatever reason. Axel’s starting to wonder if it’s like Schrodinger's Cat. If we don’t see Jesse is he still just in his boxers or does he some how miraculously don clothes like super man… Corvidae is a bit of a hike though, as far as say Cherrydale, from their current location, but they’re somewhere near Wickbridge. Luckily, he’s going the right direction for the Quarantine Zone. As he walks, he wonders if it’s nice to be able to walk around in one’s apartment with another person there in just underwear. He would, but the maggots and bug beneath his skin tend to be a turn off for that sort of thing a they make the surface of his skin ripple. His eyes scan around again, as they get to the subterranean four-way intersection south of Gullsborough, using the vision to see heat signatures. Nothing. The hike continues.

As his head turns around the corner, finding that his ‘hunters vision’ hasn’t failed him, he turns around the corner and begins to make his way down the final passage toward the sewer exit that will lead them to Corvidae. “Yeah, I apologize from summoning you away from your mate and home. Had I realized what I’d done, I likely wouldn’t have brought you here without asking first.” He shrugs, because while he does feel bad about abruptly pulling someone away from rest and the person they’re with, he’s still going to enjoy the time he’s getting to have with his sire. Something about quality time with Jesse, even in the past when his sire has been pissed at him, has soothed him. Axel can’t explain it. It makes no sense. Merely standing near Jesse can make that nauseous self-doubt go away that creeps up in the gaps of distance between them.

The hatch leading to the QZ opens up, moon light pours down into the manhole. The pale glow lights up the two of them as Axel makes the journey first, offering his hand to Jesse as gets to the top of the ladder. He doesn’t really need a ladder though, able to crawl along walls has it’s perks, but he doesn’t feel that it should be abused or really shown to everyone until it’s necessary. Same as being able to eat the food that he used to eat. He can’t taste it, but hey, it helps him blend. His hand is extended, to help his sire stabilize as his feet hit the top of the ladder and no longer has any upper body support. Jesse may not need it, but Axel’s sure it’s the thought that counts. While his hand is pushed outward, he looks around, checking to see what else is happening in the area. The block of street that they’re on seems to be dead, and a block away he can’t exactly see anything either. It’s quiet in the QZ this evening, he can barely hear gunshots of other kindred hunting.

I’m a pretty easy-going guy. Axel apologises for pulling me away; that if he had realised, he wouldn’t have done so without asking first. As we trudge through the sewers, I ponder the statement. I weigh up all the different scenarios, the different things that I could have been doing when Axel chose to summon me away. I’m not modest. I don’t shame easily. Even if I were completely naked and completely turned on, I’d have laughed. Even now, thinking about being half-dressed with my zip down, I find it ******* hilarious. This power that we have could be dangerous. But I suppose that’s what trust is all about.

I only ever do it once – summon without warning, first. If I do it too many times it risks ire, and the potential that the said person would choose not to trust me; not in that particular area. And it would mean that I might then lose the ability to summon them in times of actual need. It’s about time, I suppose, the karma has come around to bite me in the ***. But I am not annoyed. I am amused.

I suppose the only time I might be pissed if I were summoned without warning is if I were in the middle of a hunt, or if I were, maybe, a buffer between pure evil and someone I loved and cared about. If taking me away caused danger or harm to someone else, then yes. I would be pissed. Although I highly doubt the chances of such an occurrence are high, I refrain from shrugging and telling Axel that he doesn’t have to warn me. By the time the thoughts have all filtered through my mind, and all the different scenarios have been imagined, we have reached the exit that we require. I don’t realise that Axel has moved to help me up out of the exit until I am standing on my own two feet, free of the manhole. I shrug it off.

”If you are in dire need of help, you don’t need to warn me. Just do it,” I clarify. Axel is smart enough to figure out that if his situation is not dire, that yes. Warning would be nice.

The Quarantine Zone is not a place that I need to visit much these days. Only when I am running low on ears, or some other ritual item, do I find myself here. Or, if I have come to meet Ursula. I know that she has a place in Corvidae. I know where to go, and begin to head in that direction, heedless of any random foe. Perhaps I’m cocky. Perhaps I have too much of an ego to think I should be able to just wander on through the QZ half dressed and weaponless. But it’s a far cry better than how I was a month ago. I’d prefer this, than to be egoless and depressed, consequences be damned.