Molly and the Snake [Azraeth]
Posted: 05 Mar 2015, 14:09
--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Azraeth> The evening was chill, the build up of an arctic blast having washed over Harper Rock's landscape to bring with it uncomfortably freezing lows. Az's own home lacked warmth if only because he didn't associate with many humans. Of those he would never have invited them to his personal abode if only because most of them would not have understood his choice in décor. Nor the circle of magic, the blood stained altar. His home had been converted a short time before so that it was comfortable to his tastes as they applied to hunting. Sound proofing, easy to clean walls and floors that hid evidence of misdeeds well. He had invited Eureka over so that he could get to know her a bit better. On CrowNet, he'd seen she had sired someone, difficult for anyone, much less someone so new. He wanted to gauge what she or her progeny might need.
<Eureka> This whole life was still so new to Eureka, and she had been sired at the point in her humanity at which she had snapped. Something had broken inside of her and what had been unleashed was something she hadn't even understood - and then Chad snatched her up off the street and gave her immortality, and a kind of power that could be dangerous in her hands, as soon as she discovered just exactly what she was capable of. Still, she was discovering new things, and new people, and this Azraeth had reached out. Had said he would 'summon' her, whatever that meant... so Reka had wandered around in a circle, gasping when she felt the tug. One second she was in the flats, sneaking a look at the computer in the office there, and the next she was ... somewhere that looked even grimmer. Her blue-green eyes were wide, her attire fitting for some feral street kid, and her mouth agape as she found the only other soul in the room. "What is this place?"
<Azraeth> He stood with his hip resting against the altar, arms folded over his chest. There was a heaviness to the air, though the exact cause of it was likely difficult to pinpoint. Someone learned in the way of vampires might have attributed it to Azraeth's apartment being a place of death, and that unnatural stain had left its spiritual grime as residue. Or perhaps because of Raeth's communion with the Shadow Realm, the way he regularly opened windows to it, allowing the darkness to flow into his home. Some may have said it was the anguish of the fae he trapped regularly in his home, to do his bidding. "This is my apartment." He said with a smile which revealed rows of pearly teeth. The expression was lopsided, a little bit on the dopey side, not that he'd ever admit to it. A hand slid from where it lay tucked against his abdomen so he could offer greeting. The place was dark, and serpentine pupils were wide, chasms of black that cut the ocean tide that were his starburst eyes. "It is modeled after a darker place though. Welcome, Eureka. It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm Azraeth of Dragomir and Worthington."
<Eureka> "Jesus Christ on a ******* stick," she breathed. One of the first things she noticed was that the man in front of her seemed weighted with the same kind of heaviness that pervaded the apartment. Apartment, he said, though she felt like she'd slipped into some episode of the twilight zone. Although she glanced at the greeting hand she ignored it, her wide eyes instead slipping to half admire her surroundings, to explore tentatively like a cat in a new home. Her nostrils even flared as she attempted to sniff the place out, her attention zeroing in on the altar; on wherever it was that the scent of blood came from. Her own eyes seemed to widen, but they weren't of a peculiar shape like Azraeth's. She blinked as she turned her attention back to the man. "What's Dragomir? Why do I smell blood? Where do you sleep?" she asked, questions rolling from her tongue with no sense of grace or social etiquette.
<Azraeth> He wanted to retort that Christ had very little to do with what lay in his apartment. Indeed, chances were that if the divine did exist - its morality would have caused it to turn an eye aside from the sight. When the woman did not take his hand, he simply withdrew it, allowing it to lay at his side. He had recently begun (largely due to Lorelai and Prudence) wear clothing that did not consist of tailored suit pieces. Jeans and a jacket. Nondescript really. He had dark features and could have slipped into just about any crowd and become nearly invisible to the naked eye in the midst of every other person. "A Dragomir is a type of Worthington, those who come from the bloodline of my sire, Nikolae." He explained evenly, and then glanced back to the altar. "I sleep wherever I happen to be." He suffered from an affliction that essentially knocked him out the moment the sun came up. Comfort was of very little importance to him if only because it was pointless really. "And you smell blood because I recently performed a ritual, and while sacrifice is not generally required - I am very old fashioned in certain ways." Conversational. He watched her move around the apartment, seemingly not fussed at her choice to sniff about. "And you? You have a place to lay your head?"
<Eureka> Eureka nodded slowly, her mouth dry and her eyes hardly even blinking as she continued to look around, gaze snapping from place to place as if trying to find the remains of the sacrifice. She licked her lips and ignored her mounting desire for blood--reminded herself that she had already eaten a blood pack that night--and reluctantly returned her focus to the speaker. "Chad gave me a dungeon and told me I could decorate it how I wanted to. Except I have no money and furniture is a bit hard to steal..." she trailed off, curiously stepping toward the altar. "I wake up every night on the roof, though. The roof that Chad turned me on. I get to wake up staring at the stars and I actually really like it..." she babbled, though her words were somewhat slurred as her mind found it hard to concentrate properly. "What did you sacrifice? What for? What is this?" she asked, of course referencing the altar.
<Azraeth> He could tell that she was taking everything in, in her own way, and that was part of why he made no move to stop her, or offer her something like a seat somewhere. It seemed, to him, to be like when an animal first discovered a new habitat. They wanted to explore everything, make sure that there was no danger, sate their curiosity. Aside from Az, the only other living (for lack of a better word) thing in the apartment was Magog, his familiar - an albino death adder who lay curled up on the altar itself. She made no move to change the situation and simply lifted her head to inspect Eureka briefly before returning it. Obviously not viewed as a threat. "I have heard of that. Most would consider it a curse." He didn't comment as to whether he did. "I sacrifice any number of things from small chickens to larger things. Depends largely on the size of the spell. And this is a ritual altar. Beyond it is a circle which is used to hold a demi-fae." Terms that the woman likely did not know, or understand. "I should probably have prefaced all of this by saying that I am one of the more magically inclined of our kind. My home reflects my taste in the spiritual and infernal."
<Eureka> Eureka hasn't noticed the snake until it had moved. The sudden movement had her recoiling, if only slightly--if only until she understood what it was that had moved. As soon as she did, she found herself lightly stepping over to the alter and half laying herself out upon it, as if she wanted to crawl up onto it and curl around the snake. Her legs were spread to distribute balance but from her body from the waist up was laid out on the alter. Not touching the snake, even though the temptation was there. She knew, instinctively, that other wild animals didn't like to be touched. They liked to familiarise themselves with other living things in their own time. So Eureka lay there, become part of the furniture. When she spoke, it was a low sultry rumble--she didn't want to scare the animal away, and her eyes were fixated upon it. "I didn't know there were spells. What kind of spells?" she asked, her avid curiosity reflected in her still-wide eyes, which flicker only momentarily in Azraeth's direction.
<Azraeth> The evening was chill, the build up of an arctic blast having washed over Harper Rock's landscape to bring with it uncomfortably freezing lows. Az's own home lacked warmth if only because he didn't associate with many humans. Of those he would never have invited them to his personal abode if only because most of them would not have understood his choice in décor. Nor the circle of magic, the blood stained altar. His home had been converted a short time before so that it was comfortable to his tastes as they applied to hunting. Sound proofing, easy to clean walls and floors that hid evidence of misdeeds well. He had invited Eureka over so that he could get to know her a bit better. On CrowNet, he'd seen she had sired someone, difficult for anyone, much less someone so new. He wanted to gauge what she or her progeny might need.
<Eureka> This whole life was still so new to Eureka, and she had been sired at the point in her humanity at which she had snapped. Something had broken inside of her and what had been unleashed was something she hadn't even understood - and then Chad snatched her up off the street and gave her immortality, and a kind of power that could be dangerous in her hands, as soon as she discovered just exactly what she was capable of. Still, she was discovering new things, and new people, and this Azraeth had reached out. Had said he would 'summon' her, whatever that meant... so Reka had wandered around in a circle, gasping when she felt the tug. One second she was in the flats, sneaking a look at the computer in the office there, and the next she was ... somewhere that looked even grimmer. Her blue-green eyes were wide, her attire fitting for some feral street kid, and her mouth agape as she found the only other soul in the room. "What is this place?"
<Azraeth> He stood with his hip resting against the altar, arms folded over his chest. There was a heaviness to the air, though the exact cause of it was likely difficult to pinpoint. Someone learned in the way of vampires might have attributed it to Azraeth's apartment being a place of death, and that unnatural stain had left its spiritual grime as residue. Or perhaps because of Raeth's communion with the Shadow Realm, the way he regularly opened windows to it, allowing the darkness to flow into his home. Some may have said it was the anguish of the fae he trapped regularly in his home, to do his bidding. "This is my apartment." He said with a smile which revealed rows of pearly teeth. The expression was lopsided, a little bit on the dopey side, not that he'd ever admit to it. A hand slid from where it lay tucked against his abdomen so he could offer greeting. The place was dark, and serpentine pupils were wide, chasms of black that cut the ocean tide that were his starburst eyes. "It is modeled after a darker place though. Welcome, Eureka. It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm Azraeth of Dragomir and Worthington."
<Eureka> "Jesus Christ on a ******* stick," she breathed. One of the first things she noticed was that the man in front of her seemed weighted with the same kind of heaviness that pervaded the apartment. Apartment, he said, though she felt like she'd slipped into some episode of the twilight zone. Although she glanced at the greeting hand she ignored it, her wide eyes instead slipping to half admire her surroundings, to explore tentatively like a cat in a new home. Her nostrils even flared as she attempted to sniff the place out, her attention zeroing in on the altar; on wherever it was that the scent of blood came from. Her own eyes seemed to widen, but they weren't of a peculiar shape like Azraeth's. She blinked as she turned her attention back to the man. "What's Dragomir? Why do I smell blood? Where do you sleep?" she asked, questions rolling from her tongue with no sense of grace or social etiquette.
<Azraeth> He wanted to retort that Christ had very little to do with what lay in his apartment. Indeed, chances were that if the divine did exist - its morality would have caused it to turn an eye aside from the sight. When the woman did not take his hand, he simply withdrew it, allowing it to lay at his side. He had recently begun (largely due to Lorelai and Prudence) wear clothing that did not consist of tailored suit pieces. Jeans and a jacket. Nondescript really. He had dark features and could have slipped into just about any crowd and become nearly invisible to the naked eye in the midst of every other person. "A Dragomir is a type of Worthington, those who come from the bloodline of my sire, Nikolae." He explained evenly, and then glanced back to the altar. "I sleep wherever I happen to be." He suffered from an affliction that essentially knocked him out the moment the sun came up. Comfort was of very little importance to him if only because it was pointless really. "And you smell blood because I recently performed a ritual, and while sacrifice is not generally required - I am very old fashioned in certain ways." Conversational. He watched her move around the apartment, seemingly not fussed at her choice to sniff about. "And you? You have a place to lay your head?"
<Eureka> Eureka nodded slowly, her mouth dry and her eyes hardly even blinking as she continued to look around, gaze snapping from place to place as if trying to find the remains of the sacrifice. She licked her lips and ignored her mounting desire for blood--reminded herself that she had already eaten a blood pack that night--and reluctantly returned her focus to the speaker. "Chad gave me a dungeon and told me I could decorate it how I wanted to. Except I have no money and furniture is a bit hard to steal..." she trailed off, curiously stepping toward the altar. "I wake up every night on the roof, though. The roof that Chad turned me on. I get to wake up staring at the stars and I actually really like it..." she babbled, though her words were somewhat slurred as her mind found it hard to concentrate properly. "What did you sacrifice? What for? What is this?" she asked, of course referencing the altar.
<Azraeth> He could tell that she was taking everything in, in her own way, and that was part of why he made no move to stop her, or offer her something like a seat somewhere. It seemed, to him, to be like when an animal first discovered a new habitat. They wanted to explore everything, make sure that there was no danger, sate their curiosity. Aside from Az, the only other living (for lack of a better word) thing in the apartment was Magog, his familiar - an albino death adder who lay curled up on the altar itself. She made no move to change the situation and simply lifted her head to inspect Eureka briefly before returning it. Obviously not viewed as a threat. "I have heard of that. Most would consider it a curse." He didn't comment as to whether he did. "I sacrifice any number of things from small chickens to larger things. Depends largely on the size of the spell. And this is a ritual altar. Beyond it is a circle which is used to hold a demi-fae." Terms that the woman likely did not know, or understand. "I should probably have prefaced all of this by saying that I am one of the more magically inclined of our kind. My home reflects my taste in the spiritual and infernal."
<Eureka> Eureka hasn't noticed the snake until it had moved. The sudden movement had her recoiling, if only slightly--if only until she understood what it was that had moved. As soon as she did, she found herself lightly stepping over to the alter and half laying herself out upon it, as if she wanted to crawl up onto it and curl around the snake. Her legs were spread to distribute balance but from her body from the waist up was laid out on the alter. Not touching the snake, even though the temptation was there. She knew, instinctively, that other wild animals didn't like to be touched. They liked to familiarise themselves with other living things in their own time. So Eureka lay there, become part of the furniture. When she spoke, it was a low sultry rumble--she didn't want to scare the animal away, and her eyes were fixated upon it. "I didn't know there were spells. What kind of spells?" she asked, her avid curiosity reflected in her still-wide eyes, which flicker only momentarily in Azraeth's direction.