Path of the Vampire forum

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


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse is lounging on the couch at Veil Tower. The apartment is mostly spotless around him - the floors all white marble, along with the benches. Even the couches are an off cream colour, and in front of the fireplace is spread a large polar bear pelt. The kitchen is to the right, upon arrival, with stainless steal appliances; there's a large space, where the glass dining room table sits. In one corner is Jesse's desk, with half-done drawing spread over it. there's a step, that dips down into the lounge. The main bedroom to the right of the apartment is where he and Grey sleep; where the shower is, too. And it's the bedroom to the left that he's commandeered just for his new pet. He stares at his phone - on the heels of his last text, he types: Seriously, though. Apartment 702, Veil Tower.


<Clover> Veil Tower. Clover slid off the side of her chair and walked around the back of the couch to skip up the entry steps. She grabbed her new black peacoat, the other one destroyed in a fit of rage, and slipped it on over her tan-colored t-shirt. When she closed the door to her place, she had her keys in one hand and her phone in the other. It was tempting to continue texting all the way to the apartment, but that meant bumping into people and she didn’t want to deal with that. She hurried out of Larch Court and made her way past Swansdale station to the entrance of Veil. She’d never actually been inside of the building, not to her knowledge, at least. If she had visited the place, it had been months ago. “Leave it to Jesse to keep the classiest place to himself,” she muttered, half amused. She didn’t knock on the door when she reached the apartment, instead of clearing her throat. “Be decent!” And she closed the door behind herself.


<Jesse Fforde> The door is unlocked. Grey had gone to work, and she knew Jesse was at home - she hadn't locked the door on her way out. Jesse got no reply text message; he remains lounged on the couch, his phone held in front of him, checking the various forums that he was able to check. It's true, that he isn't too much of a presence online. Purely, mainly because everyone there likes to take him seriously when he's not. The temptation to call Victor out on his fear of snakes itches, but Jesse still doesn't do it. Not after the man's accusation that Jesse never has a nice thing to say. Not after being accused of always being condescending when he's not. No, he'll just stay silent. So when the door opens, Jesse hasn't moved from his position. His head snaps up to look over the back of the couch; tense, to begin with, but he relaxes as soon as he realises it's just Clover. Who'd just arrived and walked in, rather than warning him she was on her way. As he stands, she might think that he wasn't decent. And she's lucky, really, given that for a while there, he only ever walked around this apartment naked. But he's in his own home. He's comfortable - he's showered and his hair is slicked to the side, but he isn't wearing a shirt, and down below he's only wearing a pair of grey track pants. "And what if I weren't?" he asks as he stands. "You'd be seeing two snakes tonight instead of just one!" he says with a broad grin.

<Clover> Maybe she should have sent that text message, or any text message. The last time she wasn’t paying attention, she saw a little bit more of Kenlie than she wanted to. But when her sire turned and looked back at her, she raised a hand for a quick little wave. Her gloved hand barely made the movement before she dropped her arm back to her side. She was busy taking off her jacket and gloves, stuffing the gloves into the pockets of her coat and holding the winter garment over her forearm. As odd as it seemed, Clo refused to put her coat down whenever she was the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“This is a nice place.” She looked up and saw her sire’s naked torso and immediately thought he was naked, so she dropped her coat and waved her hands back and forth, like that would someone help her vision.

“Oh Jesus. ****. I’m sorry. I didn’t see your junk, I swear,” her words stopped when he actually stood up. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat, “Because you are decent. And there will only be the one snake scarred into my mind.” Clover quickly bent down and collected her coat, inching toward her sire. How embarrassing. She tried to act cool as she took in the apartment once more. Yes, it was lovely. Nice ceilings and floors. Good quality floors. Solid under the feet. “So where’s this snake? The pet.”


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse smirks. He smirks because even if he had been naked, he would still have stood up. He would still just be standing there - or maybe he'd slowly saunter off to put on some pants, out of some sense of general decorum. He had never been ashamed of being naked. It's all just natural, what they're given at birth. Why not show it off? He nods, as he glances around. "It's... cultivated by hands that aren't my own," he says. He does like a nice place, but the décor here isn't what he would have picked, had he been the one doing the decorating. "Jormungand is through here," he says, leading Clover toward the door directly to the left of the entrance. The light is dim inside, except for the heat lamps gently basking the shiny new enclosure - it takes up an entire wall of the room, and even swings around the corner. A very large enclosure for a large snake. Inside, there's a lot of branches, and real dirt - he'd done his research, and tried to replicate the snake's natural habitat. "She's a big snake, so she deserves her space," he beams.


<Clover> Clo had a few choice words when she saw his expression, but she kept them to herself. People were always poking fun at her and she was getting better and enjoying it along with them. When her sire led the way out of the room, she followed. The room that they entered wasn’t exactly what she imagined, but only because it was the ideal habitat for the snake. He was really serious about loving the gift. How many times had she said someone was hitting her in the feels? “Wow.” She whispered it, tilting her head to either side so she could see every bit of the enclosure. The snake would blend in beautifully with the nature element put into the creature’s new home. “This is great, Jesse! They could live to around eighteen years, if you take care of them,” she rambled, spitting out random facts about their nature. She made a talking motion with her right hand to indicate how they struck and where their fangs were located.


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse nods. "Yeah, I thought here might be better than at Larch Court, what with people running in and out, and some... obviously not fond of snakes," he says. He, too, now has random facts about this snake in particular. "One of the most venomous African species..." he says, holding out his arm. There, just inside the elbow, are twin wounds. Like a mini vampire had indeed latched onto his skin. He's still beaming, though, even though the bite looks like two miniature welts. The poison hasn't affected him. Not one bit. "She's a feisty thing. She'll fit in just fine..." he says. In fact, he was more worried about his own blood harming the snake, rather than the other way around. He bends down to retrieve a box over to one side. When he opens the lid, inside there are some live, squirming rats. "Want to feed her?"


<Clover> Clover cringed when she saw the two puncture wounds. She had been too afraid to spend too much time with the snake before it was finally delivered. She’d dragged the large crate around like it contained acid that would dissolve her on contact. Of course she would never tell anyone about that. Instant death or immunity, she didn’t want to be bitten by a venomous snake. “She can be the mascot for the family,” she smiled, finally looking away from his arm. When he bent down and produced the box of rats, she just stared down at the wiggling little things. They probably had no idea they were marked for dinner. “Sure. I just put it in there and Princess,” she gestured to the habitat by looking over at it, “does the rest.” Clo bent down and grabbed one of the rats, plucking it from amongst its little friends, and tried not to squish it. She didn’t know where the enclosure opened, so she just eyed it for a long moment. She wasn’t going to ask for help.

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

<Jesse Fforde> As soon as Clover had picked up one of the rats, Jesse put the lit back on the box. He put the rats aside and stepped forward to unlatch a door at one end of the enclosure; Jormy was over in the other half of the habitat, so nowhere near escaping - though Jesse has a feeling he'll be letting her out of her cage often enough. Grey hasn't yet had a chance to see the new pet, and he has no idea what she'll think. But she'll just have to get used to it. "Princess, yes, she can do the rest," Jesse says. He had assumed he was bitten because the creature was stressed out from being carried around in a dark, cold box. But now she's home. And hopefully a little more relaxed.


<Clover> When the enclosure was open, Clover slowly moved forward. She kept her eyes on the snake, but the snake seemed more interested in other things. She put the wiggling rat down onto the floor of the enclosure and then moved away, watching as the rat took off to explore. The little thing seemed entirely too oblivious to the hunter waiting off to the side. One quick strike and the rat would be dead, but the snake didn’t move. Not yet. Snakes were patient. Or rather this snake was patient. Clo took it upon herself to close the latch and stood back to observe, her arms crossed over her chest. “Why did you give snake-themed gifts? You aren’t stupid, so there has to be a reason.”


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse also crosses his arms over his chest, happy to watch the rat scurry around. The poor little thing probably thinks it's been given a lovely new home. And Jormy might not be hungry - she might want to wait before she eats. Jesse keeps watching the rat, anyway. There's a sadistic side of him that wants to see the little thing suffer at the whim of the greater beast. He shrugs his shoulders. "The World Snake. Jormungandr. Ouroboros - whatever you want to call it. It's a myth that crosses several cultures - a symbol, really. It symbolises, to me, the eternal return. Cyclicality. Of constantly being born anew. We were human once, and now we are vampires - we ended, only to begin again. See?"


<Clover> She didn’t say anything. She thought about being in a cycle, a loop, of some sort, but didn’t it end when she became a vampire? There was nothing after that point. It all seemed like a short cycle, like a spin cycle in a washing machine, and hers had ended. His had ended. “Yeah, I can see that.” It was one of those moments that reminded her of the last time she really spent with Zach, just one of those moments of clarity. She didn’t have the frosted flakes, but she nudged her sire with her elbow. “Look at you being a deep thinker.”


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse snorts and shakes his head, his arms still crossed over his chest. The rat is getting closer and closer to the snake; the snake is slowly shifting, suddenly aware of the intrusion. Jesse watches with avid interest. "I research these things for my art," he says. He doesn't think he's overly philosophical. Though maybe he comes across that way. "Also, when one doesn't speak for the better part of a decade, he finds his mind preoccupied, rather than always trying to figure out what to say next," he says, glancing sideways at Clover, before turning his attention back to the enclosure.


<Clover> That poor, stupid rat. Those four words came to mind as she watched the rat drawing nearer to the end of its journey. The creature was walking right toward death, eyes blind to its surroundings. Clo could almost feel the tension in the air, like the winding of coils, of springs. Just a little further and the snake would lunge. Just a little further and the rat would finally see what the two vampires had known from the very beginning. Clover chose to focus on the enclosed animals rather than the complex one standing next to her. It didn’t register yet that he’d shared a piece of his past with her until she saw a flash of bright green. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure if she apologized to the rat, the snake, or her sire.


<Jesse Fforde> There's silence for a while, as Jesse watches the rat twitch and struggle, and then die. As the corpse is slowly swallowed by the snake, to become a lifeless lump within the snakes long, smooth, graceful torso. It's a beautiful thing to watch, and Jesse savours the moment. Entranced. Only as the rat disappears does he clear his throat. "The world swallows us up sometimes, and there's nothing that can be done about it," he says, slowly. His voice perhaps a little extra dry, as the snake's meal reminds him of just how thirsty he is. "We react to the violence lashed against us in unexpected ways. But we just continue living, and moving on, and learning," he shrugs. "It's a cycle."


<Clover> Clover didn’t need to watch anymore, but she did. There was nothing else to say or do in those moments when the snake took its meal. She watched the way the snake’s mouth stretched up and around the rat’s shape. It was almost like the rat had never existed. If she and Jesse hadn’t witnessed the feeding, they may have never noticed anything at all. One minute the animal was there. The next minute, the animal was gone. Where was the cycle in that? Clo lowered her head, the spell finally broken, “I guess we do.” She turned her head to look at him and smiled the smallest of smiles, “Your philosophical ways are no doubt very mesmerizing. My contribution is that sometimes, some cycles need to be broken.”


<Jesse Fforde> "They are broken," he says, now focusing on his progeny, rather than on the snake in its enclosure. "They are broken by death, but they start fresh. Cycles don't always have to be the same. They can change, incrementally," he says. He chews the inside of his lip, deliberating. He turns back to the snake, eyes glazed and unfocused as he finally says what's on his mind. "I understand my... siring habits aren't exactly kind. I realise that now," he says. "It's a cycle that's going to change. For example."



<Clover> What she wanted to say or imply had been lost in translation and she wasn’t in the mood to go back and openly state what was on her mind. When he looked back toward the enclosure, she let the silence start its own cycle of birth and dead and rebirth. She thought that whatever open line of communication that had blossomed was long forgotten, but then she heard him speak again and she turned to look at him.

“I don’t care if you rip their throats out and tape them back together. Just do this,” she spoke, motioning between themselves with both hands. “Talk. Get to know us. Know that it’s hard enough without being the childe that hasn’t bonded with her amazingly sweet, thoughtful, funny, glorious sire.” She was exaggerating a bit, or perhaps a lot, about what she’d heard, but it conveyed her own frustration.


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse scoffs. He near laughs out loud; a genuine amusement that colours his features and etches itself into his clear blue eyes. "Now I know you're having a go at me," he says, clearly not insulted even though he thinks Clover - and plenty of other people besides - would think he's actually the complete opposite of sweet, thoughtful, funny, and glorious. Again, those gleaming eyes swivel back to his childe, holding her steady in his gaze. He could defend himself. He could say that he doesn't bond easily, and that she's not alone. But there's more that he has not said. "I care. As much as ripping out throats has been my forte, it's harder to do this," he says, echoing her gesture, waving at the air between them, "When said childe starts this new life hating me. So no more. They only get this if they agree to it. If they know what they're getting into. And I am sorry, genuinely sorry, that I've done you wrong."


<Clover> Clover had heard some good things about Jesse, but after his scoff, she decided not to elaborate. If he had that sort of self-esteem, who was she to try and change his mind? It probably didn’t help that she had a dark and sarcastic way with humor.

“I,” she stopped, shifting awkwardly on her feet. She looked away, her eyes locking with the snake’s, as if she were also aware of the discussion going on outside of the enclosure. “I didn’t hate you that much.”
Her lips curled for the ghost of a frown and then she forced herself to turn and look at her sire once more. There were plenty of words swimming about in her mind, just right out of reach, but she ignored them.

She opened her arms as if she were going to hug him, then looked at his bare chest, and then finally nudged his upper arm with her fist. “Thank you. I’m sorry things have been rough. If you, uh, want to talk, I’m a good listener? I’m not kidding about that.”