Path of the Vampire forum

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


Pyper: Laying in the middle of Phoenix's bed, the Telepath stared at her calf enough to blur the details surrounding the exact pinpoint of her vision. As tears threatened to fall from the rim of her bottom lids, she finally blinked. Then, sluggishly, her mind lept out to Paige. "My leg wound is gone. Phoenix's room."

Paige: Paige had been playing an arcade game in Jesse's Larch Court compound, when a female voice startled her. She wasn't sure if she could hear her or not, so Paige texted her instead. "I'm on my way." She showed up about half an hour later and let herself into Phoenix's room, then sat on the edge of the bed. Pyper looked a little crestfallen, but it was difficult to tell.

Pyper: Knotted whorls of blonde hair caked with sewage entrails fell over either shoulder. A piece of her bangs glued to her forehead. Devastation over the incompletion of her project put her into an almost catatonic state. "Will my body always heal this fast? I needed more memories of it." An accusing hand thrusted out at the thigh that had been injured.

Paige: Paige tilted her head at the other girl's thigh. She was a mess, and she doubted very much that Phoenix had seen to her personal hygiene. Perhaps turning her had left her unraveled. It was not unusual. "You are strong," she explained in a whisper. "You will always heal." Perhaps what Pyper wanted was to be obliterated completely. This bothered Paige. She wanted her to stay around.

Pyper: Pyper rolled her eyes to the ceiling, a hand raising up to brush each print over the bullet hole still healing among the forests of hair. "I want to be stronger. So I practice healing. The more restoration I need. Better the practice, isn't it?" A rush of air escaped her, the woman looking comically deflated. "I'm disappointed, is all. I wanted to show people the sections of muscle before it closed."

Paige: Paige thought that it was reasonable. "I would have liked to see them," she whispered in agreement. "I'm sure that they were beautiful." She leaned forward, blocking Pyper's line of sight with her own, so that the girl might meet eyes with her and focus. "I brought you a present."

Pyper: Due to the movement, Pyper harkened Paige's words. A glossy stare twitched with a jolt of alertness. Slowly, her cognizance better balances enough to talk about something other than the wound. "You brought the whip again?" Fingertips touch lightly over the length of Paige's jawline and back.

Paige: She shook her head and held up some paints arranged in a box. They seemed perfectly innocent, but she had laced them with chemicals from work that would make them sting, along with a surprise at the end. "No. Take off your clothes and I will show you." While Pyper complied, Paige would take a small palette and a few brushes of varying sizes, then placed them on the bedside table.

Pyper: Pyper looked utterly perplexed. Twin brows furrowed and wrinkled the middle of her forehead. Before her mind slipped into a topic loosely related to painting, Paige's words directed her to remove her clothing. Without hesitation - a work of muscle memory and assocation - hands curled into hooks yanked up the end of her dirty dress and lifted it from the bottom up. It was bunched up and put aside. Pyper hadn't worn anything underneath the dress. Phoenix's clothes bothered her.

Paige: Paige was wearing black leggings and a matching black tank top with an inconsequential lavender pattern on the front. When Pyper undressed, she regarded her as if she was a canvas and not a person. Her orange eyes roamed over the flesh and rested on the thigh where Pyper had complained about the mark not lasting. She picked up the palette and dipped a medium sized brush into some rusty red. "Hold still or I will tie you up," she warned her, then began to paint an outline on Pyper's thigh. It would only tickle at first, cold and a little strange smelling.

Pyper: Hold still. How many times she'd been told that were incalculable. Pyper had mastered the art of practically petrifying herself underneath a doctor's orders. The frigid moist swipe over her leg made the hairs bristle on the back of her neck and in a synchronized wave over her arms. "What are you going to paint? Make it spectacular." Even in the diseased mind, the Telepath regarded the paint as just a foul scented, but otherwise ordinary mixture. Every toe separated from its neighbors when she flexed them.

Paige: Paige absorbed herself in the paint. "I will try. I am not an artist though," she rumbled. The rusty red outline was a long smear on the soft flesh of Pyper's thigh. The older vampire then took the smallest brush and added details in darker red, circling the outside. As she did that, the rusty red smear would start to itch, but even so it didn't hurt just yet. It felt as though it was crusty or peeling, but it had in reality begun to seep into her skin and corrode it. Paige bent and blew dead air onto the painted wound. The more it dried, the more intense the itching would grow. Next Paige took a charred black paint and added crusty texture to the mark, so that the entire thing began to take the shape of the sinew and muscle beneath Pyper's flesh.

Pyper: Those eyes rolled in her head according to the movement of the brush. Fine lines scrawled in a dirty shade of red pricked her skin. Microscopic pinchers nipped at the inner edges of her pores like piranha, ever becoming more vicious in their labor. Awareness slipped, the mind so trained on the itching that a hand crawled down the bed. Inch, pause. Half an inch. "What is the mixture?" The telepathic voice didn't sound panicked, but it shook with a certain skewed anxiety. Pyper didn't know whether she was excited for the pain, or excited because she was learning the new limitations Phoenix gave to her by making her a vampire.

Paige: "I said hold still," Paige growled and gave the intruding hand a glare. She considered telling her about the hydrochloric, but wouldn't the pain be so much more savage if Pyper didn't know its name? Even so, she was probably going to have to tie her to the bed. It was going to get much worse. The itching would slowly turn to pinpricks of pain, which in turn embedded themselves deeper into her skin and finally started to feel like burning. Paige set the brushes aside and sat back to observe.

Pyper: A hiss sounded out when that shift in the sensation took. In uneven distributions, a clear pain awakens her nerves and sends a first large dosage of adrenaline, compensating remembering ever doctor's visit. The defaced thigh flexes and the pain flared. It made her fingers flick forward and then clutch onto the sheets as it honed in. Purification by fire. Like the sun that had eaten her skin when she basked in it. Wanting to wash the vampirism out in the midst of a delusion. "You are perfect." Even the voice that projected from her mind sounded weighed with a delivering agony to it.

Paige: Paige didn't feel perfect, and she blushed as she watched Pyper writhe. She took a secret sexual pleasure from watching others in pain, and Pyper was no exception, but Paige was ashamed enough not to share that information, or even to attempt to take advantage of Pyper then. Just witnessing the flesh melting and the vampire squirming was more than making love could ever do for Paige anyway. "Tell me when you want it to stop," she said. It would burn her bones and all, then spread like wildfire, but Paige could make the chemical stop spreading. It wouldn't stop what was there from hurting for a long time.

Pyper: Pyper's feet jerk, the right kicking up the bed further than its partner. The knees bent when they settled back into place and her feet pointed their toes at one another. A canine dug into her skin just below her lip. Suction tugs at the plump skin. The tickle was lost over the climbing levels of sunburn she'd faced in her life. She passed her maximum number of memories and ground her thighs together. Pyper's eyes closed so she didn't know if the itching on her other thigh was in her head, or if she smeared the paint on the other thigh.

Paige: "It's spreading," Paige told her. If she didn't ask for it to stop soon, Paige would have to stop it herself. She didn't want Nix angry at her over a legless childe. And who knows at what point the acid would stop running its course. Still, it was beautiful to see the mousy, filthy girl squirm as cleansing pain seared through her.

Pyper: Endorphins swam, comprehended by the immediate surrounding area of the wound like ice around a burn. The sensational searing of her skin drew out more uncontrolled spasms. "A little longer," a whimpered plead entered Paige's mind to try to wait out a last boost of her body's chemical defenses against harm.

Paige: Paige knew that the girl was unbalanced, but she allowed her request. She climbed on top of her and held her down by her wrists so she could press close and feel her squirming and jerking like a puppet. She lay with her but kept her legs spread and away from Pyper's acid riddled legs. It wasn't that she couldn't take what she dished out, but someone had to be not burned in this situation, to regulate and control everything.

Pyper: Whether there was a smell of krisped organic material or not, Pyper's mind ran circles until it exacerbated her anxiety and manipulated the dreggs of that chemical transcendence to dump into her bloodstream. Looming not far beyond the high is an all too realistic clarity of what a human would have to endure at a greater scale. "If I let you stop, how long will it take to heal?" Out ouf physical instinct, Pyper fought against Paige. A leg brought its knee up to drive it into any part of her, her head came forward to connect heads.

Paige: Paige growled. "I don't know," she rumbled and tried to pin her still even more firmly. Her strength was 21 and her dexterity was 20, so it probably wasn't that difficult to restrain Pyper, except that she was trying not to get acid on her. "But stopping it will be the best part." The surprise at the end.

Pyper: Pyper had doubts in the amount of spiked pleasure ending the rapid decomposition of her thigh would cause her. Still, there hadn't been a pathway Paige showed her that she hadn't opened up to. "Alright. Make it stop." Pyper prepared as much as she could.

Paige: It wasn't the screaming or pleading that Paige was used to, but she was not dealing with a simpering human, this was a vampire, her equal, who she would protect. Paige reached into the bag of paints and withdrew a matchbook. Phoenix was going to have to forgive her if the bed got damaged. A cold expression on her face, Paige admired the sight of Pyper's mangled legs before she lit the match and immolated them. The flames did stop the spread of the chemical, and also increased the pain to unfathomable levels. Paige wasn't even sure if Pyper could hear her when she told the burning girl, "Now scream for me." She lifted a blanket.

Pyper: Pyper expected a foam, or maybe a gel in a tube. Beach goers soothed themselves with a lotion. The sight of the match jumped her form like a vehicle's jumper cables. If the vocal cords made any movement, a shrill shriek would have been coming from her opened mouth. Neck violently twists back and forth, hair flying around like blonde whips. Inside of her skull, the Telepath was screaming endlessly. It projected in like a dying radio to Paige. Fading in and out in regards to volume.

Paige: Paige closed her eyes and inhaled. The scent of Pyper's searing flesh, the resounding cry in Paige's head, were so distracting that the adolescent nearly forgot about time being of the essence. Fortunately she did manage to pull herself out of it. She opened her eyes and beat Pyper's legs with the blanket. The flames were extinguished, and in their wake was a pair of burn scars snaking along and delving deep into Pyper's naked legs. Paige tilted her head with animalistic inquiry as she studied the other girl's movements. This had been fun, even though Pyper hadn't died. Paige had creamed her panties, but she would never admit that kind of thing. She didn't understand herself why this kind of thing got her off.

Pyper: Using a foot against the bed, as Paige's hand beat down the blanket, the ill-minded female launched herself away from the drumming pain. It physically echoed and madee her grit her teeth together. Every animated motion ached and was discouraged through a heavy cloud of pressure and scorching heat. Still, the ragdoll fought through the motions that gnawed at her the least. "I will always look forward to your presents." A goblet shaped hand perched underneath Paige's chin and tried to reel her in. Pyper's lips urged to deliver an appreciative kiss to the other woman's mouth.

Paige: Paige was surprised by the kiss but parted her lips and snaked her tongue inside briefly. When the gesture was over, Paige felt light headed and very much sated. As for Pyper, not a single draft of wind could blow against her legs without causing them extreme agony. They were going to be raw and hurt for a long time, hopefully.

Pyper: Similar to the way a powerful gust of wind knocks the reception of an antennae, the pain scrambled her thoughts. "What ... tell.....Phoen.." The woman was looking more unhappy every accident Pyper announces that she's had. Which would be the cherry ontop?

Paige: "Tell her that I made you do it," Paige whispered. She lifted her up in her arms, cradling her, and brought her to the bathroom. She set her on the toilet seat and drew a hot bath. It would hurt, but Pyper looked like she hadn't seen herself in a mirror lately. Maybe she hadn't. Could telepaths? Shadows couldn't.

Pyper: Sucking in air through her teeth, the carting of her body into the bathroom shot pain to every corner of her body. "What was in the paint?" Perched ontop of porcelain, the Telepath outlined the wound with a phalange but the thigh trembled away. "My leg is fixed. If I move it, I want to throw up. I bit my tongue, all I can taste is my own blood. .. That was fun, Paige."

Paige: "Thank you," Paige responded as if they were having a normal conversation and not discussing her mangled legs. "I had fun as well. The chemical is hydrochloric acid." It was her hope to let Pyper handle pain in a controlled environment, so she wouldn't break the masquerade or kill herself.

Pyper: The rushing water casted off steam that made the lids of her eyes heavy, exacerbating the already dreamy look that naturally settled in her expression. Hydrochloric acid. Pyper would have to remember that. "How long do I have to stay in?" An arm dropped its shoulder and upturning her hand at the wrist, she cupped and tested the water in her palms.

Paige: "Until you are clean. You look like a street urchin," Paige fretted. She picked her up off the toilet seat and dumped her gently into the full tub. She grabbed her face in one hand, clutching her chin and cheeks, and kept her face above the water. She wanted to see it contort in pain from the water on her raw flesh.

Pyper: Both feet are the first to submerge beneath the water, then the curvature of her gluteal. Hot water hit the burns and sent her squirming for the edge of the tub. With her face locked into place, she can only blindly scramble the skeletal digits along the length of the tub.

Pyper: They clawed at Paige's hand. "No bath, no bath, no bath..." Blonde, partial dreadlocks whipped as Pyper fought the statuesque suggestion of her head's positioning.

Paige: "It's for your own good," Paige growled as if pain wasn't the issue and she was dealing with a disobedient child. She held her face with one hand and poured cupfulls of water over her hair with the other.

Pyper: Pyper's actions became more violent as her wishes weren't taken under advisement and the bath continued. The way her mind worked into Paige's, can be imagined as a fist to old wood. A shrill shriek left the crevices of her decaying consciousness and shoved itself into her relative's awareness. Her screaming, and screaming. And screaming.

Paige: Paige enjoyed screaming even more than moans of pleasure. Growling, she grimly continued to scrub the fledgeling's hair. She worked several rinses of shampoo into it, then conditioner, which she tried to use to untangle her hair.

Pyper: Shaking in the tub, Pyper's hands pushed away Paige's form. Every nail had skin underneath it. She couldn't tell whose flesh they were anymore. Several cuts welled with blood on her arms, and her face. Had she done it? The cries still left her head, bellowing and elongating to an impressive length. "I am not dirty anymore, stop! No more bathing."

Paige: "Are you a child? Hold still." Paige scrubbed her flesh next. Her own tank top and leggings were soaked, and her arms were scratched up, but finally Pyper was clean. Paige stood back and grabbed a towel. "Can you stand?"

Pyper: Even if she couldn't, Pyper still made the attempt to stand up from the murky waters. Palm flat to the side of the tub, another to the wall. The enormity of pain that throbbed from her legs blackened her vision for less than a second. "I won't be able to hold myself up for long," she warned, arching at the back and leaning over to use the closed toilet to support her weight while she climbed out.

Paige: Paige stepped forward and caught her in the towel. "I'm sorry. But you really were filthy, pet." Paige kissed her forehead and levitated her off to Phoenix's somewhat charred bed. That would be interesting to explain. "After you are all dry we will bandage you up. You will be in pain for a long time."

Pyper: The act of defying gravity lost its impact on her when both sets of lids blocked out everything else but the dimly illuminated webbed blood veins. Those were dark cracks that aided to keep her mind set on the endorphins wafting off the wound. "How long will the pain last?"

Paige: "I have never been burned with this chemical. I don't know. But you are an explorer. You will find out and let me know. Won't you?" She brushed some hair out of Pyper's face and continued dabbing her dry with the towel. She looked angelic, peaceful in her agony.

Pyper: A new project to take notes on. Pyper's mouth still rimmed with an uncomfortable cringe broke at the corners to create an oddly distorted grin. As Paige combed away the thick moistened locks of hair, she turned her head to rest her lips to the inside of the other's wrist. It was brief. "I can do that. Then we can try my back?"

Paige: "Yes. What do you want me to paint there?" she asked. She liked being kissed by Pyper. She liked taking care of her after she had hurt her. She hoped that Phoenix would understand if she ever found out.

Pyper: The question itself pulled out a bemused expression. Strained confusion, placing worried lines along the outsides of her eyes. They were faint, but there. "The sun."

Paige: "Alright." Paige took a brush and worked on Pyper. She reminded her of her sister when she had been human.

Pyper: "There are times, I still think everything is a dream." Frayed edges of reality once touched with her hand are like a fuzzed scene. What the static on a television screen must feel like.

Paige: Paige nodded in agreement. "Me too." Before Pyper could inquire, she whispered "I have black blood. My feet don't touch the ground. I cast no shadow. I cannot see myself in the mirror. My voice is ruined. Mostly I can only whisper. So, I understand that it feels like a dream. I feel like I am a dream."

Pyper: Rising up, past the unruly curls that were beginning to form once the hair is untangled and drying, index and middle fingers glanced off the skin at the center of Paige's throat. On men, it was the location of the Adam's apple. "There will be nights where I do truly dream, of your screams. They would be nice."

Paige: Paige unhinged her jaw. Because she had that undead contortionist power I mentioned before, she was able to show Pyper the inside of her throat. The wound was immortal. It would always be raw, and it would always hurt. She didn't say anything, but the sadness in her eyes seemed to say "I don't know if I can scream properly for you."

Pyper: Using just the first of knuckles Pyper guided Paige's mouth closed. The sight alone disturbed the already teetering mind. A thumb outlined the mouth of the other woman, such means of physical affection made her mind scream too many words to decipher a single meaning. But to Paige, "I've screamed for a very long time already. Shocks. Burns. Noises. I can scream for both of us," the faint voice is coupled with Pyper's nuzzle into the side of Paige's face.

Paige: "If you want," Paige whispered calmly and nuzzled her back. She didn't know whether she was a bad person or not for encouraging Pyper's fixation. What if something happened and the otherworldly girl died?

Pyper: "I do but I'll wait. I practice speaking. I can hum but not very good. My wound is almost gone." Would it be weird to hear her own voice again? Telepathy - she viewed as a cellular phone - creating distortion to the voice itself. With this puzzling pathway of thought, Pyper's hands idly touch over Paige. Mostly concentrating on her shoulders and collarbones. The bowl shaped crevice appeared fragile. Was it?

Paige: Paige tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling while the drying vampire touched her. Paige was blushing. She got off on pain, but that didn't mean she didn't have feelings. She was just a bit out of touch with them, and Pyper was always seeming to bring them out. With her seeming helplessness, Paige's courage was roused, and with her curiosity Paige felt curious with her. "What are you thinking about?" she finally whispered.

Pyper: A deer caught in the last pair of headlights it'll ever see. With enlarged, doe eyes Pyper paused in pressuring the clavicle with the whirling patterns that make up her identity. A simple question but for her, having several thought processes running simultaneously, the hardest. "How much weight it would take to break your collarbones. I think about if my voice will sound the same. About what job will contact me back. And dead rabbits."

Paige: Paige nodded as if those were the most natural things to think about in the world, then stood to return the towel to its rack. She took some bandages out of the sack she'd gotten the supplies from and started wrapping Pyper's legs.

Pyper: The sheets were clutched with a vicious intensity while Paige worked to bandage her legs. Once a shooting pulse of force reached her pain receptors, it's swept over by a wave of pleasant warmth to deter any physical reaction. Mostly hitting and any movement that may cause more knocks to the wounds. "What were you thinking of?" Pyper, although becoming quite good at walking into the memories of other people, did not hone the skill to read their every thought.

Paige: "I was thinking about how lucky I am to have met you. I enjoy your company, Pyper," Paige told her quietly. Normally her friends tried to change her, instead of egging her on. This encouragement was empowering. But at what cost might it come to this fledgeling? Paige sighed. "But I worry that I'm taking advantage of you."

Pyper: Pyper's eyes seemed to be looking at Paige without really seeing her. More seeing through her, than anything else. The tilt of her head is the only indicator than she's heard anything at first. "I miss you when you're not around. I'm attached. You're not taking advantage of me. You don't wear the coats, carry the clipboards. Lorazepan, diazepine, trazodone. You are not them."

Paige: Paige tilted her head, raven hair falling to one side in a curtain. "Hm? I see." She finished bandaging, then fell on her back beside Pyper and looked at the ceiling. Images of squalor and suffering played through her brain as she talked about it, "There was a boy like you at the orphanage. But no medicine for him."

Pyper: Without full mobility, Pyper is forced to find contentment in laying in a minimally uncomfortable position. It's when she's lying flat on her back, just like Paige. She won't move, and doesn't plan to for the entire duration of daylight. "They stop working. Body fights, and it wins. It rejects the healing. It wants to be sick. What happened to the boy?"

Paige: "They couldn't get him to behave. He came of age and they threw him out onto the street. I don't know what he did after that." Probably the mob got a hold of him. If he'd had a family, it might be different, but even then in Russia it would have been difficult. "They would tie him to his bed. He would get sores. I don't know if he liked pain as much as you do. I never asked him. My sister..." Paige trailed off. Mentioning her sister was the same as admitting she was dead.

Pyper: Abruptly ceasing to continue her words brought about Pyper's analyzing, dark gaze. Encroaching on this subject, Pyper internally put more empathy into the approach than any outsider would have really imagined. "What was she like?"

Paige: "She was very responsible. She would talk to him. Once he got a sore on his back that was disgusting. It stank. None of us liked him for it. But she cleaned it out with soap every day and it got better. When we got babies, she would hold them and talk to them." Paige had been one of those babies, abandoned and ignored by the orphanage staff. She would probably have died from sheer lack of attention if her sister hadn't picked her up and rocked her. It should have been Paige who died instead. Axel didn't realize how truly worthy her sister had been of eternal life.

Pyper: As a Telepath, Pyper was privvy to the memories - and partial thoughts - of the people around her. Emotions were an entirely different ordeal. How was Paige feeling right now? As if the act of touching along Paige's arm would jump start her powers, the blonde did just that. It didn't work, so she guessed. "We cling to things, and those things can kill. I'd like you to stay here, forever with me. If you leave, I'd be lost. A dark swallowing pit." Snapping the joints at her neck, the tremble in her limbs proved she was under some restraint. "I'm sorry you miss her."

Paige: Paige reached over to put her hand on the fingers gripping her. She held Pyper's hand then, but kept staring at the ceiling. "I won't leave." There were fledgelings that needed her protection and 'guidance'. It seemed she wished to take on her sister's role and follow her example.

Pyper: "We need to throw away the sheets," the mind whispered to the one laying next to her. "Tomorrow. I need them tonight. Will you stay, or do you have a home?" Most people had homes. Temporarily, this was hers.

Paige: "I have a cabin," Paige said, "But it isn't safe. I'll stay here for the day." She thought about the boy, and about Pyper's condition. She was beautiful when she writhed in pain. Paige would help her have agony on her own terms.

Pyper: She locked their fingers together. Other people had done it; especially on the streets, she'd seen them. Holding Paige's hand eased any traces of separation anxiety that weighted down her chest. "What are the things in the woods? I saw things sprint behind the trees, before Phoenix found me."

Paige: Paige frowned. "I don't know." She had no doubt that there were real monsters in the woods. They were monsters, after all.

Pyper: Pyper's mouth lifted into a distracted smirk. "I want to find them. Then we can both know."

Paige: "Just be careful," Paige warned her gruffly, then closed her eyes. She had some things to avoid thinking about before dawn.

Pyper: Pyper's head hovered over the pillow it had successfully flattened. "Caution hasn't been written in my code. .. Are you sleeping?" The latter was a whisper.

Paige: "No," Paige returned the whisper. She would have to keep an eye on her and make sure none of the monsters in the wilderness hurt her.

Pyper: Pyper sunk into the bed and ignored the calls of her stomach. It was a trap. When she ate more, she vomited. It had happened for hours early in the night. "I'm.. slipping.." Her mind was shutting down, going into a state of hibernation, to await the next night.

Paige: "We have to sleep," she told her. Tomorrow night they would probably feed together. "How do your legs feel?"

Pyper: "A child holds a magnifying glass, trains the beam of light at the legs of an ant. I'm the ant." The endorphin high she's still riding out, but it invoked the Sandman, wishing his dreams onto her.

Paige: Paige envisioned an ant crawling across some sand. It was soothing and soon she actually was asleep.