Path of the Vampire forum

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
Ambrose Acheron: The elder stares at the words on his screen blankly for a few seconds. He rereads them several times and his lips tighten into a scowl. Had it been a week? He flips through the other messages and his brow furrows into a scowl. Surely she had been joking about other handsome men. For one Ambrose didn’t think of himself that way. Especially not with his features vacant of the bone piercings he had been so accustomed to in his youth. He thinks back, reviewing in his head memories plucked from the minds of others and realizes that perhaps that what she said is exactly what she did mean. Would she?

The elder‘s head cocks to the side slightly, otherwise the entire form of the vampire is still as a statue. The motion is almost birdlike, quick, abrupt motion and then no movement. Wicked thoughts roll through his mind and already his brain has began devising means to find the information he wants. Suddenly though he breaks from that line of thought. He had made a promise to her. ...never manipulate you… He had vowed it after he had them bound through the will of the beyonds beyond the mortal plane. He had to honor those words or he spat in the face of his gods, made his union and his word to her worthless and dishonored himself in his own eyes.

He begins pressing buttons. Even after he has fiddled with the device for weeks he is far from adept at texting. The backspace button on the screen is the MVP when the elder decides to send a message. “Where have you been staying Adelita? Has there been another?” He glares at the message for a long moment. His mind playing out scenes of their own lovemaking and replacing his visage with a series of random unknown faces. The vampire feels anger build within, it wells up and threatens to overflow, feeling like it will drown him, wash his body away and drag him back into the Shadow.

He shakes his head clearing the thoughts. His finger hovers over the send button but it doesn’t drop. The elder vampire moves his thumb a half inch and once again the backspace button becomes the hero of the day. The words vanish from the screen and instead a different series of letters emerge from a minute of tapping away at the screen.

“You are right. I did trap you and you didn’t want it. You are wrong thinking I can not be bothered. I have been busy between my childer having meltdowns, being attacked, running through our own traps and other issues. I’ve had no time to do anything at all for myself and by extension for you.I will change this. Tell me how.” This time the thumb hits the send button and the elder sits down heavily on the floor of the sacrifice chamber near his altar.

He feels vulnerable more so than ever.

Adelita: The Mexican woman had told Ambrose to screw off more or less a couple nights ago, and hadn't regretted it. Lita was a passionate person; good or bad and what she said then was exactly how she felt now. Why should she chain herself to someone who didn't give a damn about her? Easy. She shouldn't. And Lita wouldn't. She wasn't that type of person. She wasn't going to follow in her madre's footsteps. Not for a minute, a second, or even half a second.

The Mexican woman certainly wasn't moping when his message came through. In fact, Lita was at a bar near the local university with her good friend and thrall, Whinny and a couple of her friends that Lita has met at least once before.

The phone vibrates on the wooden bar, then lights up to gain further attention. Lita's head rolls to the right when she notices the bright light, and then puts a hand on Mason's chest before she rolls off the bar and lands in his lap. "Hold that thought, handsome." Lita hops off his lap, grabs her phone and reads the message from Ambrose.

She turns her back to Whinny's friend and replies. Effort. She thought about leaving it at that, but rolled her eyes and continued on. I know you have obligations that are outside of me, I know that lifestyle better than anyone. But there is no acceptable reason to stop communication. You have things to do? Fine. But I'm not spending an eternity tied to someone who doesn't even have the audacity to give me the time of day for an entire week, or cannot even think to tell his wife he has other priorities. I'm not playing wife when it's convenient for you. Lita hit the send button, put the phone back on the bar counter and then tugged Whinney to it. "You're turn."

Ambrose Acheron: Scanning the message and mulling it over in his head for a moment while leaning back against the altar the Allurist closes his eyes and inhales a deep lungful of the stagnant air of the chamber. He exhales it slowly, more a meditative technique than anything. Oxygen has been useless to him for more than four centuries outside of needing it to talk, or start a fire to burn a sacrifice. The exercise had come from his sire. Something to focus on to allow one’s mind to clear. Ambrose was upset and needed to push everything aside. There was very little he was not upset about one way or another.

His own indifference to his wife in favor of worrying about his childer is near the top of that list. He felt pulled in too many directions and as though by flailing out blindly in all of them he was effective in dealing with none. The irony of the situation is the main effect it all had was driving away the one person he should be able to talk to about it, to put his thoughts out there and reorganize them. Instead she was off likely dancing another image flashes, it’s not dancing with other men.

The phone shakes in his hand. His rage doesn’t break with the breathing. It’s not washed away like a boat in a gentle stream like his sire told him it would be.It merely turns inward. Self-loathing builds for a moment and that is when the vampire frenzies. His world turns into a tunnel vision-like nightmare scene. The ancient monster lets the Darkness flow through him heedless of anything but sating this rage, venting it on anything and anyone who crosses his path. Through a fadeportal he stride, feet beating a mechanical rhythm as he vanishes from the Chamber. Perhaps the act is a shred of his rational mind preventing him from doing harm to his brood, more likely it is simply because his thirst pulls him out into the throngs of humanity along with his rage in tow.

The elder erupts into Newborough Station and instantly (and unfortunately) notices right off the movement of a young couple making their way toward the station, luckily devoid of anyone else at the moment. Ambrose is not the most physically dominant specimen of vampire kind, but he has the advantage of having been a vampire long enough that his powers come second nature in his use and instantly those powers are turned on the unsuspecting humans before him.

It’s brutal and visceral, it’s horrific. A swarm of insects emerging from the cracks and crevices of the derelict and impoverished area, sweeping over the people like scarab beetles from The Mummy. The couple screams, arms flailing at the swarm and they try to run, bolting right into the waiting arms of the vampire. The obsidian dagger flashing in the streetlights as he reduces the pair to hunks of meat where they stand, his assaults frantic, Darkness driven. Inhumane.

He drops to his knees in the street amongst the wreckage, very much the same condition Jose had been left in and begins to feed, devouring morsels of human offal and spitting bone and gristle aside, his fists pounding into the larger sections and tenderizing them, demolishing them even as inhuman snarls, growls and roars escape his lips, flooding the night with a animalistic dirge for the living beings being disassembled.

It’s over as quickly as it started.

Ambrose sits back amongst the carnage, wiping his hands clean on his clothes, the back of his clothes, the only part of him not completely covered in blood and pulling out his phone. Calmly he punches away at the screen now that the rage is subsiding. “I do not mean to take you as a convenience. I wish to be a husband to you. I want to be with you. I need to tell you what has been happening. There is no one else I care to share my personal business with but you Adelita. No one else I trust. No one else I love or have love for… Let me try to make amends.” He hits send before rising to his feet, glancing around.

Wincing at the scene right outside his front door the vampire groans. He sends a telepathic message to his thrall Moema. I need you to come to Newborough station and leave some bear fur in a mess I have made Moema. Immediately.

With that he reaches for his tome and disappears into the Chamber to wash himself off and change his attire. He wonders if cold water with help with the stain. He wonders if Adelita would know how to get blood out of clothing.

Adelita: Again, the phone vibrates against the wood counter before the screen illuminates brightly with the fluorescent coloring. Lita helps Whinny down from the bar after the body shot was completed by Mason.

With Whinny back on her feet, Lita grabs the phone, reads the message, and replies. She doesn't believe him. Lita isn't sure Ambrose knows what love is, but then neither does she. Lita might have some ideas on how she should be treated by her husband, but that doesn't mean it's right. But one thing was certain, she wasn't going to be 'married' and forgotten about once her usefulness was done. And that's exactly what Ambrose has done. Lita has become her madre, the thing she tried desperately not to become.

Fine. We'll see. Give me a location to meet and I'll be there after this blowjob. She hits send with one hand, while the other lifts the drink she was referring to, the woman mildly amused with how the message might sound to Ambrose.

Ambrose Acheron: Reading the text, Ambrose has to resort to asking The Google what she means. He is more than displeased by what he finds. Would she have an affair? Why not? He hadn’t been around. Of course in his mind a week was a blink of an eye. She was still so… young. She hadn’t had time to understand that patience was more important than immediate gratification. He glares at the phone for a full minute after learning the meaning of the term and thinks to himself.

Obviously she wants someone to die. Obviously she wants him upset. Obviously she wants him hurt. She has succeeded in getting what she wants probably in more ways than one. Ambrose feels pangs of jealousy and rage beginning to reform and sets the phone down. He paces back and forth before the cistern in the chamber, strips out of his clothing and sets into the water letting the blood wash away from his flesh in the pool. He submerges, making sure all of the couple’s blood is rinsed free and then emerges and moves toward the dresser that serves to hold his garments. Dressing in a suit that Adelita had picked out he then walks back to the phone. He is not calm. He is however getting his emotions in check for the moment… barely.

“I hope that was an attempt at humor Adelita. I know I have been remote but I would hope that you would not dishonor me with another like that so quickly. I can meet wherever is convenient for you. I want you comfortable wherever we are.” Send button.

Within Ambrose the Darkness silently builds, tugging at him like a pair of icy clawed-hands trying to shred his heart.

Adelita: There is a fury that builds inside of her when Lita reads his message. When was her husband ever the honorable one? Yet, here he was speaking to her about it.

She does not reply right away. Lita takes time to think about her reply, one that isn't filled with the anger she feels. The anger that threatens to lash out with not only that fiery Mexican temper, but the one that might have her losing her reserve right here in public.

I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Meet me at the abandoned apartments north of your factory. It should be private enough for our conversations. Lita moved to Whinny to put a kiss on the woman's cheek before blowing a kiss to Mason and the other guy whose name she always forgets, before leaving the establishment.

The walk does her no favors, other than to think on his words. Was she insulted? No. He knew the woman she was when he bound to her and so he had both valid and justified concerns. But if those thoughts had been on his mind at all this week, he should have said or done something that indicated those feelings. Only, he didn't. Ambrose had left her to her own devices, so screw him.

"Ambrose?" Lita called out into the depths of darkness on the main first floor, wondering if he was here yet.

Ambrose: Not many men would emerge from the gloom in an abandoned tenement wearing a three piece suit that would be at home on the red carpet of Hollywood. Those men that would generally are not the time of men one wishes to anger. Ambrose may fall into the same category for different reasons. He is no hitman or mob boss, he is no mafia kingpin or shady politician meeting back-alley sources in undisclosed and out of the way places, he is simply a monster.

Dust falls loosely down in the gloom, the only light, the muted glow of a nearby streetlight forcing it’s way in through windows so dirty they are more opaque than transparent. The elder turns his head toward Adelita’s voice in the dim and then he body follows suit. While not tall, the stocky built Aztec looks powerfully put together. A brick shithouse as people called in in modern times, the body type reminiscent of a bulldog or a particularly wide pitbull terrier.

His head is lowered by the iris catches the muted light enough that Adelita can see that he is focused on her and from his stance he is not happy. Though clean there is still the faint odor of blood and flowers emanating from him as though he is fresh from the altar, another victim having fallen under his knife and been delivered to the afterlife. Of course this is not the case. Indeed the couple he had vented his rage on had simply been eradicated, annihilated, destroyed. There had been no sense to Ambrose’s actions. They were not calm and refined, ritualistic and purposeful. They were the work of the Darkness within the vampire. And now that Darkness was staring his wife in the face from twenty feet down a narrow corridor.

“Where have you been sleeping…” His voice echoes throughout the corridor carrying an undertone of command and something else… something evil… ancient and angry.

Adelita: She can feel his unhappiness the second he reveals himself from the darkness, but she doesn't look away. Her usual, bubbly gaze becomes icy and hardens at his question.

Her arms cross at her chest before her mouth opens. "Here and there. What do you care, Ambrose?" Her native tongue is more pronounced in her anger than normal. "You have abandoned me and lied to me. You have taught me nada since we have bound, and you're no better than the piss poor excuse of a sire I have. I have been sleeping anywhere but in the apartment and in our bed."

Her hands dropped from her chest as she moved around the length of the room. "I think the more appropriate question is where have you been?" She stopped behind him, though a few feet away and stared at the back of him as she waited for his reply.

Ambrose Acheron: His shadow does what he feels like doing, it’s insubstantial fingers reaching out to her throat, the motion it makes one of throttling her. Ambrose however stands stock still. “I have one childe and one grandechilde who have gone missing. As I can not locate them even through ritual means I presume the Shadow has swallowed them. I have one childe and a grandechilde who were attacked by some mysterious party, both of them refuse to reside in the haven. I have not been able to identify the attacker. The Brood itself losing cohesion and falling apart, and another childe setting off all the traps in the basement of the factory as if trying to kill herself. Add in that to replace the traps I have taken great pains upon my own body and I have been more than slightly busy for the last week healing charred flesh, gunshot wounds and fighting off the toxins from the traps. Between betrayal and injury I have had a full plate. Unlike some I haven’t had time to run around sleeping in random beds or socializing, galavanting here and there at will.”

His rage is palpable, he doesn’t yet turn toward her, afraid of the expression that likely matches her tone, afraid of what he will do to her if she is glaring at him. Every bit of the stress he feels begs to be released upon her and at the moment it is all Ambrose can do to sway himself from violence.

His fists clench and had he still possessed fangs, no doubt they would be shredding his gums at the moment. He takes a long unnecessary breath and forces the feelings down as best he can before turning around to face her. “I was told before that phones work two ways. You could have called me too Adelita. You chose to spend your time with others much as I chose to try and do what I could to hold my Brood together. A fool’s errand by the looks of it. I’m beginning to see why the vampires of this city are so disorganized.”

Once more he meets her eyes, his eye near black in the shadows, his voice drops to near a whisper as he asks the question that plagues his mind. “Have you been with another?”

Adelita: A bitter laugh escapes her laugh as he looks at her finally. "I may not have used a phone, but I certainly made the last contact. And you tell me to go have fun and ignore my attempt to bait you out after. At any time, Ambrose, any, you could have told me any of these things. But you don't. You keep things from me like.-" Lita won't even finish the sentence because her padre didn't deserve the time of night.

"I'm only good enough when you determine it? No beuno." Her tongue found a home behind her teeth as she looked away. "I am sorry for the things going on in your life right now, but that is no excuse to screw off for as long as you have without any contact after your nonchalant, piss poor attitude. I'm not some toy you can put on a shelf and bring out to play when it's good for you or you think I'm screwing someone else." Her gaze bounced back to him and stayed locked on his face. "You don't care how much you hurt me when you denied coming out with me and then ignored me. And so maybe, yes. Maybe I wanted you to hurt too."

Ambrose Acheron: He listens to her speech and at the end gains no direct answer. This time he asks, his voice raising to normal conversational tones. “Was there another? I don’t want a maybe. I want to know if the woman I am bound to is laying with another man.” He knows the history of her father and her. He had seen it through her eyes as he read her thoughts, he had seen and heard what had happened to her mother. The vampire within him is remorseless, but the man within struggles to imagine doing anything like that to his beloved. To anyone he cares for. A weakness perhaps the shreds of humanity he clings to so desperately, so secretively. Even for a young vampire to do so was considered folly when he was a neonate. For an elder to do so…

There is a look of something different now on his face. It is not rage. Apprehension perhaps mixed with pain. He had left her alone for a week, two at most. To him not even a blink of an eye. He has spent longer than that performing simple rituals for the gods every year. His mind tries to rationalize the reason she may have to betray after such a short timeframe and comes up blank.

Of course, though brought up Aztec he spent the majority of his life in America with European settlers around him. They rutted like animals, faithless and immoral. The sanctity of their words and bonds extended as far and as long as it took to get out or eye and earshot from their spouses. Doubt once more creeps into the old vampire. He has been making mistake after mistake since awakening. Perhaps the Darkness has latched onto his mind more than he thought. Perhaps it has driven away his sense. Why else would he find himself in this situation with everything falling apart around him.

Adelita: Her gaze hardens again before her lips part. "Can't you just find out for yourself?" Clearly she wanted to fight tonight, but once again, emotionless Ambrose wasn't having anything to do with it. "But no. No other man's penis fell into my vagina, Ambrose." Lita rolled her eyes. "But screw you." Lita moved past him, her shoulder bumping into him. "I'm fine. Thanks for your concern. As usual. " Lita turned to flip him off, even if he wasn't facing her.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go find that penis now since you give no care about anything other than that. " It was spiteful and angry, but that was all she could feel at the moment because he was conveying not an ounce of anything else.

Ambrose Acheron: “Adelita… wait.” He steps toward her. He doesn’t grab her arm, simply reaches out and presses his hand against it. “I could have looked for myself. I don’t want to with you. I have been absent. I have been neglectful. To make it all worse, it didn’t even help what I was trying to do. I have failed in everything since coming back from the Shadow Realm and I need your help. I need you.”

The words almost hurt for him to say. No, not almost. They hurt having to ask for help. He comes from a proud people and his own pride is not a small thing either.

“I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t want to fight with you because you are right and I am wrong. I did fear you being with someone else more than I worried for your safety. That is true. I know you are competent enough to stay safe though. You are a vampire.”

He fumbles for the right words and can’t find them. Instead he shows her in her mind images of when he first saw her. While he was affected by the Siren. Then follows up with images of when he saw her after the ordeal. “I fell for you because of the Fae. I wanted you well after it was gone. That much hasn’t changed at all Adelita. Help me to understand what it is you need from me. I have been with one woman in my lifetime and that was centuries ago. I need you to help.”

Adelita: There is a frown on her lips as he talks. She understands it takes a lot for someone to ask for help, especially a leader. But two weeks ago he never would have had to ask. Lita would have willingly helped him.

Her eyes fall on his chest as a hand comes up to the suit and strokes the fabric of it. "First things, first. I haven't been a completely good girl this whole time, but I have been very good by my standards. But treat me as a toy again and I will hurt you far more than you have hurt me." Lita pulled her hand away and sighed. "It doesn't matter how many women you have or haven't been with. All relationships need to be nurtured, Ambrose. That is common sense. Women have nothing to do with that. That applies to every relationship with anyone. "

Lita found a seat on an abandoned chair behind a small desk towards the front/side of the main floor that they were on. "As for us. ...I don't think you trust me and sometimes, I don't trust you. You are so powerful and strong. That's something we both have to work on. " Her heeled feet find a home on the top of the dusty desk as she looks at him. "You say you are my husband and I should respect that, but it is difficult to believe that and act like what you think a wife should act like when I'm only that part to play once in awhile." She drops her feet from the desk and makes eye contact with him once again. "I think this would be as good as any time to openly discuss what the other's expectations are in this sort of arrangement, don't you?"

Ambrose Acheron: The aged vampire watches her and listens. They likely should have spoken of all of this before. Still, the lines of communication were now open. People seemed to think nowadays that in the past women played a subservient role to men. To a point that was true, openly at least. But a woman ruled her household and all those under its roof as well. Men, though the de facto leaders of cities and armies were hesitant to cross their wives. Women had ways of making crossing them seem a very bad idea. Ambrose had learned this by watching others. The true power always lay behind the throne. The man on it usually nothing but a figurehead.

“I promised you I would never try to manipulate you again Adelita. I meant it. Most of my power lies in my ability to see into the minds of others and use what I find there against them or at least to my own advantage. When I told you I would not do that with you, I meant it. That was one expectation you placed on me. What are the others that you would add to it before I voice my own?”

Adelita: Adelita looks at her designer heels as she listens to him, then at her nails. She wanted to rip the color off right there now that she took a moment to look at them. The chips, though small, were visible to her supernatural eyes. Painfully so.

“I want to feel like you need me. Your lack of interest this week is unacceptable.” Lita spoke as her dark eyes lifted from her candy apple painted nails. “I want what you promised me. I have been completely abandoned since about a month after I was made this. You say life is difficult because you have been gone a long time, but at least you had a sense of direction and purpose before your tragedy.” Her arms cross at her chest as her eyes remain on him. “I am your wife. It is unfortunate I am untrained, but it is your responsibility now to help me learn. Like you request of me.” Lita looks away from him and lets her eyes travel on various objects in the room before returning to him. “I believe the floor is yours.”

Ambrose Acheron: Stepping toward her he leans forward, placing his forehead against hers lightly. There is no telepathy used, no image transferral. just simple physical contact. “I have been wrong to leave you alone. I have done much wrong since reawakening. I never should have had you leave the haven. I don’t know why I caved to the Brood. They are children and know nothing…”

The vampire sighs and reaches up, his hand laying against her cheek gently, his eyes moving from the floor to seek out her own. “I have… fucked up… everything so far that I have touched. Like the shadows linger on me like a curse. I can’t lose you though. You are my wife, I am your husband. I want us devoted to one another. I want us to form that bond to match the one the ritualist tied us together with.”

Adelita: A hand finds a place on his cheek as she looks back up at him. “Where we call home doesn't matter to me. An explanation would have been nice, but it's over and done with.” Lita lifts her shoulders into a small shrug.

“As for your problema, with your familia, use your cabeza, Tizoc. If people are acting like children, there is a reason for it.” She brought her other hand up to cup his face with both of hers. “Don't write them off. They are tied to you eternally. You picked them. You have to guide them, otherwise you are no better than my sire.” Lita kissed his lips quickly before pushing away from the desk a little. “As for the ritual. You know I don't even understand that. I don't even know what that means. What you want.”

Ambrose Acheron: She has much to learn.

He has much to learn.

For the first time though he feels like he is not alone. Like he can rely on someone. He hopes he is not mistaken. “What did your sire teach you my love? Before he disappeared. I can help you with what you are if you can help me with when. This age, the people of this age… they confuse me. They seem to disregard all customs and knowledge of their elders in favor of moving forward aimlessly. They accept taboos because they wish not to offend when what they accept is an offense and abomination. Humans are weak and their world small. Their issues have been the same for centuries. Ours though… we are dead and stagnant beings. We should avoid change. The old ways fell apart and we were slaughtered due to change. Vampires trying to be human.”

He leans in and presses his lips to her forehead lightly before returning his gaze to hers, waiting for her to speak.

Adelita: “Elders? You mean there are others like you? I haven't seen them. “ Adelita professes as she thinks about what Remington taught her. “He told me to be careful. When hunting. That I would be more easy to identify as a vampire. Don't use anything more than my smile and charm in public and briefly talked about his blood. Our blood.” Lita shrugged. “Is there more to know?” She looks at him before nodding. “I have told you I will help. You have to ask, Ambrose. “

Ambrose Acheron: The old vampire nods. “You have the blood of the Allurist as I do. Humans look at us and they see what they want. We are desirable to them That makes it easy to draw them to us but it also means they watch us closely. Your eyes move to that which you covet and they covet not just what you have, but what you represent to them. You are desirable. You have an aura that exuded sexuality, confidence. It makes you easier to detect when trying to be sneaky.”

He brings his other hand up, the back of his knuckles tracing her lower jaw, following the jawline from ear to the point up her chin. “The same thing that draws their eyes to you draws them to you and makes them want to do things for you. It makes them malleable. You can convince them to do things be it giving you cheap prices for goods and services or attacking another who means you harm. You can alter their mood, forcing them to lay down their arms by making them believe they care for you or making them wish to serve you until their dying breath. With all of this power it is easy to lose sight of the fact they are more than food. More than toys. A great many Allurists of old became quickly jaded toward mortals and ended up using them for playthings in ways that today would be… unspeakable. I suppose rape would be the word for it. Only the mortals believed they wanted it.”

He tilts her head upward and kisses her lips softly, backing away after a moment to continue., fingers still under her chin. “The most powerful of us… they became able to control more than mere humans. Some carved out their own kingdoms ruling not out of fear but forced servitude and false adoration. My sire warned me against such methods as eventually those you force your will on will rise above the tricks of the blood and when they realize what you have done to them…”

Ambrose looks into her eyes. “Vengeance meant more before the Shadow Realm became a two way conduit. You asked if there are other elders… yes. I have met only one so far but she told me there are others. Some of them active and others in torpor. They slumber the nights away in seclusion. This world is so very different you see. It is noise and stench and overfilled with people. So very different from when we walked the earth…”

Adelita: She listens to him, her chin pointed up so that she liked at him as his hands came to the tip of her chin.

She had noticed some of these things with Winny and then when she bought things from the stores. Lita had just assumed it was because the men or women behind the counter wanted her number or something else in return. But a few dollars off an item wasn’t even worth a little flash of skin in her books.

“Will you be like the other ones? The old ones? Will you sleep a lot too?” Her eyes stayed transfixed on his as she asked that question, wanting to hear his answer very clearly and see it in his eyes too.

Ambrose Acheron: The question was unexpected. Entirely unexpected. Not surprising however. It softens his eyes slightly. Her concern for their time together? That reaches the core of the Allurist within. It echoes throughout his dead heart and brings a warmth to an otherwise cold and dead heart.

“They slumber because what this world has become is too much for them to bear. Perhaps they slumber because what they created, their own broods are too far from what they knew before that they can not fathom having to watch it unfold and break before their eyes. No. I will not slumber through the ages letting the world pass by unseen and awaken only to find that it has changed more in my absence time and again.

I will remain awake, I will lean on you to help me learn this new era. I will teach you of the time before it. Together we will begin to understand each other and what made us who we are, my love. We will watch on through the years, decades and centuries as the world evolves and changes. We will be smarter than myself and the others were last time. We will weather the storm that the young and ignorant will ignite with the humans and the Fae. We will be eternal.”

His eyes don’t stray as he speaks. The conviction of his words is met within those dark hues that dance in the darkness as though his soul were trying to escape through them. “I will not leave you like that.”

Adelita: Even as she listened, Adelita had her doubts. Not because it was Ambrose saying it, but because of her track record with the men in her life. Remi and Godric were both gone to who knew where. Elighan skipped town a couple weeks ago, and her time with Niklaus seemed eons ago. Still, the woman nodded. Time would tell and show her if Ambrose would be like everyone else.

“I may not be able to teach you everything you need to know, Tizoc.” Adelita did not normally say his actual name so openly, so publicly, but they were here, alone. Why should she keep up the facade? “You have familia, remember. They're from present time. Don't discredit them.” Lita looked around the darkened area they were in. There were other things on her mind, like the prospect of eternal marriage. How long was an eternity in vampire? The fact he kept referring to her as his love-when Lita thought he had a funny way of showing that love. “Do we have to continue this conversation here?” Her dark pupils returned to him as she asked that.

Ambrose Acheron: "We can go anywhere you would like. My Brood is disjointed at the moment. My absence likely has not helped that much. It will take time to repair the damage done."

Ambrose leans in and kisses his wife softly, tenderly. When he steps back his expression has softened. "I truly am sorry that I have not been here for you Adelita. I will not be distant like that again." He does mean what he says. The bond makes him feel stronger when he is near her. The feelings from the siren have fled from him entirely and his own feelings for her are slowly filling the void. More so every time her are close.

"I will see what I can do to repair what damage I have caused." The last statement is about both her and the vampires of his lineage.

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

Adelita: There was something about their proximity that did things to the woman when they were close, as they were when he kissed her. It was something Adelita couldn't deny, even to Elighan when Lita had mentioned another man in her life to him.

The Mexican woman sighed and leaned into the male as she thought about where to go. “I want to go home. Whichever one that is.” Adelita had vocalized that thought again, because she didn't care where they called home. What mattered was if he was there.

Ambrose Acheron: Home. He wasn’t himself sure where that was currently. He spent most of his time at the ritual altar in the bowels of the earth beneath the abandoned factory where he had sired his first three childer since emerging from the shadows. Was that home though? Ambrose considered the space sacred but aside from that there was no emotional attachment there for the vampire.

The apartment? More likely. His memories of being with Adelita the first time were there, feeling her move with him, her lips, the taste of her skin… her blood. Yes… the apartment was more of a home to him.

He nods, taking her hand in his and says, “West Tower feels right.I will speak with the Brood later on and maybe add a chamber in the factory with fadeportals to a few different areas of the city.”

Adelita: Her eyes move to their entwined hands, the urge to pull away rolling over her like a high tide on a sandy beach. As soon as the tide crashed on the shore, or in this case as soon as it reared its ugly head, it dwindled and submerged down, deep within her belly.

All he was doing was holding her hand. Her free hand smoothed over her outfit as the last fleeting feeling vanished and then turned to face him, grabbing his other hand with her previously free one.

Lita smiled at him, the two standing at eye level with the other. “When we leave here and come home, it's a new start. We start fresh, si? We will work on us now that we know what the other needs and wants.” Lita placed a kiss on his lips before stepping back from him. “A new beginning.” Her eyes looked at him, a hint of life coming from them for a brief moment before she slipped out of his hold. “See you at home.” A hand came to her lips as she blew him a kiss, pulled the tome that had been gifted to her by him out and vanished.

Ambrose Acheron: When she disappeared his hand shot out partway toward the spot where she had been standing, then it lowers slowly. He almost smiles, she had told him she had thrown her tome away. He was glad to see she still had it. He reaches into his inner pocket for his own and withdraws it, disappearing into the Sacrifice Chamber.

It was a matter of using a fadeportal to the Quarantine Zone, away from the prying eyes of mortals and a jaunt over to the Fire Station to make us of a second fadeportal leading to West Tower. The conveniences of the tower were many. Easy access to the Quarantine Zone and back was one of the highlights for the aged vampire, that and the sewer entrance.

He would have to find out who the benevolent vampire who had set the place up was and thank them some day. For now though he walks to the elevator and takes it down to the 20th floor. Elevators still make him nervous. In truth being out in the modern world makes him nervous. If not for the Fae he would no doubt be a hermit living in the wilds on the outskirts of the city.

He walks down the hallway once the doors open allowing him egress from the claustrophobia inducing moving box and toward the apartment. Taking a moment he composed himself and straightened his suit before opening the door with his key and steps inside looking for his wife.

Adelita: When the woman arrived at the apartment, her eyes danced around the apartment; inspecting it. Nothing had changed, but she had still been curious. After a few nights of toming in and not finding Tizoc, Lita stopped coming home. Maybe during those nights of her absence something had changed, but pleasantly enough they hadn't.

Jose had no fashion skills, but his pride for his heritage was evident and appreciated by Lita. A few things could go, but she would probably keep most of it, discard some and add her own twist. These are the things she thought of while she waited for Tizoc to appear.

When he didn't, Lita frowned and took a seat on the couch. There was a feeling she wasn't familiar with, and it didn't feel very good inside the Allurist. Had he changed his mind? Was it fear she was feeling? Or apprehension, maybe?

Not wanting to feel that negative feeling again, Lita decided to take matters, and feelings into her own hands and moved to the master bathroom where she stripped down to her birthday suit and hopped into the shower where she proceeded to wash away the nights earlier festivities.

Ambrose Acheron: Hearing the faint sounds of water flowing coming from the direction of the master bedroom, the vampire heads that way. Sure enough, as he suspected, Adelita was in the shower. He smiles as he strips off the expensive suit she had picked out for him to replace the gangland style clothing his first thrall had garbed him in.

The suit is nowhere near as comfortable to Ambrose but definitely fit in better with the types of people he wish to associate with. He knew that the baggy clothes Jose had him wearing were a younger man’s fashion and carried with it the undertones of gang membership. Or at least the undertone of pretending to be in a street gang. MS-13 had been the one the thrall was affiliated with when he was alive. He had pissed off Adelita. Tizoc had murdered him for her.

Setting the suit off to the side carefully he steps into the bathroom, making enough noise while in the bedroom to alert his wife to his presence. He feels his blood quicken, the bond strengthening him as he approaches her. He wonders if she feels the same thing when they are together. Leaning against the bathroom door devoid of clothing he asks softly. “May I join you?”

Adelita: For as little as Adelita knew about all things vampire, there were some things she couldn't deny knowing or understanding. The need for blood had been understood immediately the night she had been sired and had feasted on the blood of one of her padre’s body guard that had failed to keep him alive due to the wound to his knee that had shattered it on impact.

Vampire senses were another thing she couldn't deny having. In this case, Lita had heard someone in the bedroom and that someone was approaching the bathroom. Since Jose was dead, Lita assumed it had to be Tizoc, unless he had taken another thrall.

She isn't very far in her routine when he asks those four words. Her attention shifts from the shower entirely, to him. To her husband; a term Adelita is still familiarizing herself with in a lot of ways. Adelita turns to face him, a sultry smile painted on her lips as she raises a finger to her throat and beckons him over with a crooked finger. “I hope so.” The finger drops after she tucks a damp, wet strand of hair that had been sticking to her throat tightly, behind her ear.

She may appear to be confident in everything Adelita says and does; maybe even to him, but she isn't. Her entire life had been planned out and strategized for the woman upon her birth, and adapted at will on her padre’s whims and fancies. Lita has no filter and says what she wants, when she wants, because she could. People had to listen to her because they were paid to-unless her padre had other ideas for her. In every essence possible, Lita could be categorized as a rich, spoiled, princess, but only the very few saw the real woman underneath. The woman that lacked confidence due to the preplanning of an overbearing padre. The woman that struggled to find her own identity since being sired, and the woman that sought out attention, not because she was thought she deserved it, but because attention, positive or negative helped her find the appropriate social norms she didn't possess because she was suffocated and sheltered and had never been told what was right or wrong. So by her saying to Tizoc that she hoped he joined her, Lita hoped for attention that was hopefully positive from him.

Ambrose Acheron: He steps into the shower with Adelita, the water cascading over his flesh as he take the bottle of her shampoo in his hand and squirts a portion of it into his hand. He leans in and gives her a soft kiss on the lips as his hand comes up and into her hair, beginning to massage the gel in. His other hand joins in to assist as he washes her hair gently while facing her, To him it is a bonding thing, to help her bathe, he enjoys touching her, caressing her, his hands moving through her hair as the lather builds from the soap, Occasionally he brings a hand up to push the suds being created from her forehead, his eyes roaming over her face as he does.

He realizes then that he has missed her while she has been gone. He realizes how much. Part of it due to their proximity, the bond permeating through them. It is more than that though. Her dark eyes seem to bore into his, touching him deep within his mind. He backs her up a little, letting the water beat away the soap from her hair. His eyes lower, taking in her body, supple skin,rivulets of water trickling down her legs down to the shower floor, the curve of her hips, the way they sweep in as her waist narrows, becoming her flat belly. He feels himself beginning to react to the sight and feel of her. His pupils dilate slightly and his hands roam down over her neck from her hair, down over her breasts, pausing to savor the weight of them in his palms. He leans in and presses a kiss between them.

Straightening back up he motions to her to hand him the body wash and loofah so he can continue washing her.

Adelita: When he joins her, Lita’s smile can't help but grow a little. The Mexican woman yearns to touch him, her fingers wrapping around his upper arms as he kisses her lips. When he pulls away to start washing her hair, she is reluctant to let him do this and even keeps the kiss prolonged a little bit longer as she follows after his backing away.

“I disliked you being away. Us being away.” She confessed softly as he worked the soap into her hair. “I'm sorry for anything you saw and heard at any point this week.” Lita had previously confessed to not being the best behaved this week, but hadn't admitted to her reaction of his neglect as being unfavorable. Childish would best sum it up, if she gave it any serious second thoughts.

One hand goes for her pink loofah and places it in his hands, but doesn't let it go. Her eyes look into his own as she stands there and lets the water encompass as much of her body as it could. “Do you forgive me?” Lita straightened her posture as she waited for his answer, her eyes unwavering.

Ambrose Acheron: Looking into her eyes his brow furrows. “I have not read your thoughts love. A part of building trust. I do not know what you are apologizing for.” In truth the reaction from some of his Brood to his keeping an eye on them as his own sire had with his line has made him reconsider the use of his powers. Though he feels half blind to the world when he does not pluck the thoughts from the minds of others he has done his best to avoid using them on those or his blood, and on his wife.

Several times his attempt to bolster her strength by use of the powers of his path have failed, he knows someone else has been doing that for her, but he has decided to wait and see if she broaches the subject, and if she doesn’t, he planned to ask. He supposes some nowadays would see this as a sign of respect. He sees it as ridiculous. For his Brood he will try it. Already in his eyes two attacks on them has made the telepathic scrying worth doing regardless of their thoughts on it. He had not yet asked Adelita’s opinion on it though. Now seemed a good time.

“Should I have been watching? What happened?”

Adelita: Lita releases her hold on the loofah as her shoulders rise and then fall. It was a little disappointing that he hadn't bothered to check on her in the last week. It made the woman wonder if he did actually care as much as Tizoc said he did. And it was personally disappointing that all her work, as childish as it might have been in the eyes of others, was wasted.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Lita’s ordinary was probably a lot different than most people's ordinary. Probably even Tizoc’s. “And I guess that's up to you.” Lita shrugged her shoulders once again, dismissing the topic as she grabbed her bottle of amber scented soap that was in a light orange bottle and handed it to him with a small smile.

Ambrose Acheron: Taking the loofah and the soap bottle he deposits a generous amount of the latter on the former, caps the bottle and sets it aside.. He begins at her neck and shoulders, watching the bubbles as the slide down her body as he works, Had he been mortal by now his heart rate would be increasing, sending blood away from hims outer extremities to focus it where it would soon be needed, his breathing would be getting deeper, heavier. His biological reactions though are long dead and fully under the control of the old vampire. His mind however, it roams to pleasures that only her flesh could bring him.

Ambrose, being Aztec sees the bond, a marriage, as sacred. The Aztecs did not have many laws. They had fewer punishments. Many crimes were simply punishable by death. Adultery was one of these. He is aware that times and civilization has changed on a very fundamental level. Sexual expression is much more palatable now than then. Women are seen less as sacred and mysterious and more of objects to be attained and often bragged about and discarded afterward. Ambrose can’t bring himself to see them as such.His vampiric nature sides with his ancient beliefs.

Fadebeasts were a reality. Both he and Lita were acutely aware of this and outside of the bond, protection was rare, unheard of in Tizoc’s time. The thought of laying with another simply doesn’t occur to Tizoc. This is not the norm in modern times when people are inundated with sexual images on billboards when they drive to work, on television when they get home from work and around the water cooler at work while talking to their co-workers. Sex sells and everyone is a customer. Tizoc only shops in one place. An anachronism by today's loose standards of conduct perhaps.

His hands continue to work over Adelita’s body, moving over her upper chest, lathering her breasts, his free hand trailing ever behind, caressing as the loofah travels over her skin, massaging the soap into her as he goes. He is aware that his query was blown off, dismissed and for a moment his mind reaches out instinctively, entering hers for the briefest of moments before withdrawing without taking in anything of her memories. No, he reprimands himself. Not without permission.

“Would you prefer I enter your mind freely love? I had thought to give you privacy. A sign of trust and respect as I understand it nowadays.” Oh yes. His young childe Kika had made it abundantly clear that what was in the minds of others were theirs and theirs alone and while Tizoc thought the sentiment quaintly human he had decided to abide it. After all, what could a long forgotten relic of Latin history possibly know about the people of today?

Adelita: Her reaction to his touches are no different than any other time before now. His attention to detail on the way her body reacted to his attentions made Tizoc quite the lover in the bedroom. Was it because he understood her, women, or because he was an Allurist, like her?

Her hands wrap around the back of his neck, Lita’s hands finding the back of Tizoc’s head as her nails scrape at the back of his head softly. Lita feared that if her hands dared to go anywhere else that their conversation and shower would be done with before it even began.

Trust. Respect. Privacy. All words she was surprised to hear coming from him. Did she want him going through every facet of her life? Not particularly, but there wasn't anything wrong with him checking up on her. Especially when a long duration of time passed. “I have nothing to hide. I told you I haven't screwed anyone's brains out. I would think if you respected me, you would have looked to see if I was at least alive after a couple nights.” Lita feigned a look of disappointment before sighing softly. “I miss the old you. I was so angry with you, with all the underhanded and sneaky things you did, but at least then I knew you wanted me. That you cared. I want him back.” Her lips formed a genuine pout at that, her hands sliding from the back of his neck, to his chest and then further yet as her hands welcomed his excitement.

Ambrose Acheron: Allurists. They were the emotional ones. Eztli had told Tizoc this almost four centuries ago. He had been right. The spiral of depression that rose in Tizoc when his childe had spurned him had driven the elder vampire away into the recesses of the Sacrifice Chamber for weeks. He had dwelled there in the darkness with rest, without respite performing ritual after ritual as though punishing the demi-fae for the disappointment and disrespect he had felt from his spawn. Perhaps he had been. The Darkness within, the essence of his god had certainly driven into him deeper during that time.

Until tonight. Reunited with Adelita he feels that weight lift more than a little. As her hands move down toward is member, his eyes follow them. Her sensuality was a part of what had drawn him in. She was an Allurist like him, of that she left no doubt. Not just on the emotional spectrum, but every move she made screamed “want me”. Ambrose definitely responded to that silent call.

His hands continue to move over her even as she grasps him, His concentration doesn’t falter, he simply enjoys the touch as he continues to enjoy touching her. He allows the distraction to work for the moment. “He never left. He is just trying a new method.” He will tell her his reasons later. Right now he turns his attention fully to the moment.

The loofah and the hand following behind it trail down over her belly and slide further down, gliding over her...presently the loofah drops to the floor of the shower as one hand moves around to the small of her back and the other delves between her legs. He steps in, his lips meeting hers. He misses his fangs suddenly, wants to taste the very essence of her that can only be found in the blood.

There are other ways though… and they can be just as pleasurable.

Adelita: The Mexican woman inhales sharply and holds her breath as his hand brings a bright splash of color to her cheeks. The shower is forgotten about as his lips find hers, one of her hands sliding off Tizoc’s lower body and melded against his back as Lita pulled herself up on him. Her legs tangled around his waist, her other hand keeping Tizoc’s excitement fueled for what was to come later.

Her lips left his so her dark eyes could look into his. “Maybe I can help you find him again tonight.” The woman said as her hand left his lower appendage so Lita could press her body against his, her perky breasts pressed tightly to his chest.

“Let me help you.” Lita pleaded softly. Tizoc might have thought that she was talking about what was currently going on in the shower-but she wasn't. Lita wanted the man she was tricked into binding with back. He was confident, assertive and had a presence that always commanded her attention. The hand that left him, moved to the hand between her leg as she worked in unison with Tizoc’s hand. “Take me back to the night we met.” Lita whispered across his lips before kissing them.

Ambrose Acheron: The heat and wetness of the shower blend in with that of his wife and their hands work together to stimulate her. His eyes search hers and his mind reaches out, inserting brief flashes of other times they have been together, showing bloody kisses exchanged, their bodies entangled, writhing, thrashing together in unison working together toward a mutual explosive culmination of their love making. His free hand travels up to her breasts, kneads them before traveling upward where it grips her throat, pressing her back against the wall of the shower as he steps forward, pushing himself harder against her, his broad frame surrounding her.

He loses himself in his wife, he feels complete with her. Within her mind flashes an image of her bent over Aeryn’s altar, Ambrose above her, the ring still clutched in her hand as they desecrate the ritualists sacred space together. He wants to possess her. Wants to claim and own every inch of her… to own her body and soul… she is his and his alone. That thought… it sets off a chain reaction in his mind. Images of what she had threatened pass within his mind’s eye and his touch turns rougher instantly. It is not just to claim her that he desires, it is to reclaim her… to make sure she knows she is for him.

Instinct tries to send his non-existent fangs into his lip, instead his blunter human teeth gnash it open. Blood flows all the same and he presses his kiss upon her with that deepest of vampiric essence along with it.

Adelita: When her back hits the wall of the shower, Adelita can't help to let a light chuckle echo in the pit of her throat as Tizoc, the one she knew, re-emerged again. Lita doesn't scold him or even insist that he desists with the imagery playwork he shares with her, something she had been known to do in the past. What she used to see as sneaky and underhanded, is something Adelita has missed.

Her tongue traces over the bleeding lip after she breaks from the kiss. Her dark eyes hold his gaze as Lita remains pinned against the wall, a hand going to his chin, holding it as tight as he was holding her neck. Lita’s sight line never leaves his eyes as her hips begin to move with him. There is an intensity in her stare, that matches that of every other love making encounter before this. He needs to see the look in her eyes when she does what she does next because only then will he understand. “I don't care who or what you have to pretend to be out there.” Lita wraps her legs around his waist so that she is attached in a way that it would be almost impossible to pry her from him. “But here, you will be the man I love. You will be Tizoc.” She kisses his lips in a crude, lustful manner before releasing her hold on his chin now that she has said what she needs to say and he has seen in her face that this is who she wants and needs him to be.

Ambrose Acheron: Bodies tight together, her kiss fresh on his bloodied lips, Ambrose looks into his wife’s eyes and nods his head once, acknowledging her words. The depression he had been feeling has slid away in her presence, she has rekindled the desires within him that had been pushed aside and laid dormant for those couple of weeks since everything started coming apart. She is his, he is hers. She is right. Here if nowhere else, with her if no one else, he can be Tizoc. Here he can put aside the facade of Ambrose Acheron and allow the vampire he is, the man he is to exist openly.”Yes,” he says into her ear as he leans in, nipping the lobe lightly. “With you I will be Tizoc.”

He pushes forward again, this time with a purpose, he needs to feel her around him, he wants to be at her core. He wants to reclaim his bride. He begins to move with her, the familiarity of her body with his a contrast to the way she moves it. Everytime with Adelita is like the first, it is different and new. She is by far and away one of the most sexually creative people Tizoc has ever known.

He wonders if she has limits and wonders if he will ever reach them. He doesn’t neglect the rest of her body as he makes love to her, nuzzles, licks, nibbles, tweaks, touches, caresses all find their way over her skin as he drives her against the wall of the shower. Though he doesn’t need to breathe and much of the time doesn’t, he always has during sex. He doesn’t know why this is, perhaps it is the unconscious knowledge that the sounds of lovemaking go hand in hand with the act and without them the act would not seem as deep? Whatever his unknown reason is his breath washes over her ear along with words of encouragement, telling her how good she feels… how much he enjoys her… how much he missed her and wants her… that she is his… his alone.

Adelita: As they move in tandem, she doesn’t exert her sexual prowess completely. Lita wants to move with him, not against him, or compete for power and control. The mexican woman wants to share the experience with Tizoc. With every thrust inwards, Lita welcomes it and keeps a strong lovers embrace over him. He has proclaimed that here, with her, he will be who she needs him to be and that brings forward a certain softness and vulnerability from the woman. It is just them and they can be who they truly are in the privacy of their own home, without any judgements from the other.

At some point during their intimate shower session, the couple had found their way on the bathroom floor and she was pushing into him, not him into her anymore. Though she is on top, there is still no need to claim her dominance over him-but that doesn’t reserve any of her tricks of the trade either. Lita was a capable and confident lover and this time between them was to draw them closer as a couple and teach him the things she was capable of.

There is no holding back from Adelita as her hands grope and caress every inch of his flesh, her lips follow those hands and inhale his flesh, appreciating the taste of his skin. She twists and turns her body to meld against his until their damp bodies lay against the other, the woman nestled tight against his body as she races to catch her breath, a warm, red cheek pressed against his cool chest in an attempt to cool down.

Every time prior to this, Tizoc has always been the dominate one, the one in control of the way she felt and the way her body moved when they were together like this, but tonight had been different for the set. Tonight, Adelita committed to Tizoc as both a lover and a wife as she hoped he had committed to her with who he was going to be for her.

Ambrose Acheron: Holding her against him as they rest, Tizoc rolls thoughts through his mind of their times together. He does this often actually, the flesh to flesh contact becoming somewhat of a mantra of imagery to him. It soothes him, center's him. The elder knows she is young and as she pointed out he has thus far taught her little. He will change this. She actively wishes to know things, he is a willing teacher.. She has told him what she wants and it coincides with what he wishes..

“Tell me what you have learned about what we are Adelita. What do you know about our kind?” He will begin with what is important to him. The history of their people in Mexico and lead on from there. The changes brought on to their land by the white man, the vampires of Europe invading their shores and will move on from that to the collapse of their kind under the weight of secrecy violations and human retaliation.

His hand rests on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze before trailing down her arm softly.

Adelita: The Mexican woman looks up from his chest and rests her chin on it as she thinks about everything she's been told, everything she's encountered first hand. “Not all vampires are the same. There is another Remington made, like me. He was different. He was a.” Adelita pauses to push some wet, dark strands from off her face and from around her chin. “A Necromancer. Remington, I don't know what he was. He wasn't like me though.”

She goes back to the first couple of nights after being made into a vampire. “He told me to be careful when I feed. To not use my abilities in public. That if we leave here, there is a chance we may die and never come back.” Adelita shrugs her shoulders gently. “And be careful of the sun.” Her cheek comes to rest on his chest again. “There isn't much more to tell.” The dark haired beauty sighs as her fingers etch along the outside of his tattoos

Ambrose Acheron: A solid foundation, he thinks. “There are six Paths. Allurist, Killer, Necromancer, Shadow, Mystic and Telepath. Each of them are different but you can learn how to use most of the abilities of each over time. You are an Allurist like your sire told you. So am I. We sway the desires and fears of others. We work our powers over their emotions. Perhaps the connection is why we ourselves are known as the most emotional of the Paths.Humans will desire you. Their eyes will follow you. That makes feeding more difficult because you attract attention naturally.”

He runs his fingers through her hair as he speaks. “We are able to eat and drink like a human. We are the closest to humans.”

Adelita: “Por Que?” Adelita asks him as her fingers stop tracing and her eyes return to his face. “Why are we this and not another path? How did that come to be?” Was she emotional? Maybe. Probably, even if Lita attempted to hide that teeny tiny truth. “Were there always seis caminos? Who was the first vampire? Are they still around?” Lita paused to take a deep breath and to slow down. “Lo siento.” She said with a small laugh, wondering if he followed along with everything she had asked him and if he even knew the answers to what she asked him.

Ambrose Acheron: He places a finger to her lip for a moment after the barrage of questions, gently, firmly. “You are immortal. You have all the time in the world to learn. Ask one question at a time my love. I will answer you what I know.”

He takes a breath and begins. “My sire told me the first vampires came with the creation of light and darkness. Tezcatlipoca was the darkness and Quetzalcoatl the light. They were brothers. Quetzalcoatl created the Fae. Tezcatlipoca the vampires. They worked together and created the humans.”

He looks to her. “No one knows the truth of this. Who was the first. I can tell you that they are dead or they still slumber. They are not awake this night. We end up on the paths we end up on because the Darkness can see the evil in you. Like calls to like and the darkness can only call to it’s own. An Allurist therefore can sire a Killer, or even a Mystic, Shadow or Necromancer. The Darkness within a man… or woman... is personal. You became what you are because you already were that within.

The Paths have existed as long as our history can be traced. Once, long ago, the Shadows tried to dominate all others. They tried to purge the other Paths. It did not work. That was in Europe, it was long ago.What history we have is rumors. I learned much of it from Ambrose Acheron, my namesake. He was a Greek scholar who came here fleeing his own demons. He dies in New Orleans in the Fire of 1788. He was centuries old then. As near as I can tell, what you know as Wraith Guides… those who assist you in branching to other paths… are the oldest extant vampires. One of them is said to have escaped the Shadow Realm, Revyia. Perhaps we could seek her out and find out if she knows more.”

Adelita: The finger that’s pressed to her lips receives a kiss before she takes it in her mouth and sucks on it, listening to what he knows, or what he’s been told. At no point does Lita interject until she’s certain he’s done speaking and only then, does she release her hold on his finger so that she can speak. “Do you believe that? That every vampire has darkness?” What did that even mean? Another question she may ask at a later time. Lita could be a lot of things; bitchy, a little promiscuous, and even had been called a **** one or two times before. But she didn’t attribute those things to being ‘dark.’

Ambrose Acheron: “I believe that centuries of drinking the blood of that which one was can… alter people. There is definitely a Darkness within us. That is why we are claimed by the Shadow Realm. Like calls to like.”

He things about how to explain it. “When we try to reproduce… the thing that comes out, a fadebeast, it is flesh and shadow. Insatiable hunger… The worst parts of us. The shadow that forms its body is a representation of that within the parents. It is the clearest example of proof the Darkness exists. My line, we used to worship that Darkness. The Night Sky, Tezcatlipoca. I still do. We make sacrifices to him to hold the Darkness at bay within our own hearts.”

Adelita: Like calls to like. Was that why they were here now? Why she never committed to Elighan, Godric or anyone else? Were they more alike than Adelita had recognized, or that he knew? The mention of sacrificing doesn’t have the woman even batting a lash. She had been on an altar before and had been sacrificed by him. Jose had suffered the same fate, only he hadn’t come back from it. Not that Adelita was complaining about that. “But I don’t.” She said quietly. “And you said that bound couples will not produce those monsters..” Was Adelita destined to embrace the darkness he spoke about?

“Is this the end? What do you think our purpose is, I mean?” Both hands came to rest on his chest, and her chin on those hands as she stared him in the face.

Ambrose Acheron: “”Our purpose? The same as any animals. The same as a human’s, a flower’s.To survive, reproduce, thrive. We do that by being the monsters in the shadows. Silent hunters among the humans. Predators. We do that by staying away from the predators who hunt us, the Fae. We do it by making sure we remain unseen, unnoticed. Like the jaguar.”

Both hands move to caress her cheeks and push stray strands of hair behind her eyes as he looks into hers. “If there is more to life, I have not yet found it my love. This moment we are in now, this time with you… that could be said to be the purpose. To be able to love another. To feel complete. Outside of that I do not know. You seek answers every mortal and immortal seeks but none have.”

Adelita: There was disappointment that riddled through her body. There was no extraordinary purpose to a vampire’s existence. Still, Lita smiled before she rolled off Tizoc and found a place next to him on the ground. “Maybe.” She said, not certain that the only purpose was to survive, reproduce and love. The idea seemed very.....mortal. Very short lived. “Did you always think those were the reasons for our existence?” There were more words she could have added to that question, and almost did before Lita changed her mind and left out ‘with her,’ from the question. Red smeared lips came to rest next to his chest, as fingers once again weaved across the patterns of the tattoos.

Ambrose Acheron: He shakes his head. “”No, I once believed we all had a higher purpose. That some of us were fated or destined to do great things. I believed there was a plan. I’m not so sure anymore than we are anything but another species of animal trying to survive. We are different than humans in that we go to the Shadow when we die, that is because we are creatures of the Darkness. They call Tezcatlipoca that now apparently. Humans stay here as spirits or ghosts because this is the realm they were spawned from. The Fae, they go somewhere else… As far as I know only we come back, but perhaps the Fae do too.”

Adelita: The Mexican woman turned so that her back was on the cool ground of the bathroom floor and stretched out, arms laid out high over her head. Lita hadn’t actually considered what eternity meant for a vampire until this conversation. When she became a vampire-being the age she was now, in twenty years from now didn’t seem all that bad. But here, with her husband, listening to him talk and reliving some of the memories he choose to share-eternity was now realized as longer than twenty, thirty or forty years. Decades. Hundreds. And their main purpose was to survive. How dreadfully...boring and morose. They needed a topic change, and they needed one quickly.

With her head still tilted at him, Lita smiled at Tizoc and bit down on her lower lip. “I have an addendum to our conversation.” She slowly sat up, brought her right leg up, and crossed it over the sprawled out left one as an elbow came to rest on the right knee. “Once a week you have to take me somewhere. Anywhere. No me importa, where. Out of la casa. It will do us both some good. Ya verás.” For the social butterfly that Lita was-going out would lift her mood; and for him, he would learn about the world Tizoc has missed out on. “But for now, I think you have other priorities. Tu familia.” She leaned down to his lips and gave them a quick, hard kiss before the petite sized woman stood and headed out of the bathroom. She stopped at the doorway, a hand on the frame as her eyes landed on him. “Make me proud.” Lita pulled her hand from the door frame, blew him a kiss and disappeared into the bedroom where she would change into a bright lime green velour track suit with a white tank top. There were telenovela’s to watch.