Path of the Vampire forum

He arrived at the edge of the wilderness instantaneously. There was a range on the ability to teleport, and it seemed he had found it. ”Well that’s lovely.” The words were muttered near silent, as he immediately began into the woods. He just had to be smart, and remain mindful of the Fae which lurked in the sea of changing colors. He wondered vaguely, and for a moment if the humans in the research facility knew about the Fae, and if they had set up where they had as a means of deterring the undead. It was a thought he didn’t hold onto long though, because it was such a low priority on the list of things that needed to be addressed. Much like the information relating to the cure itself. Like Amalea had said. They were probably going to need to get their hands on it and then find out information subsequent to that.

Which was precisely why he found himself crunching through underbrush, which consisted largely of twigs and some already fallen autumn leaves. At least the walk provided him an opportunity to check his weapons, like the rapidfire gun he had purchased from the auction some time before, which ended up strapped behind his back. There was a sword hilted in its sheath at his hip, attached with a leather belt that criss crossed over his waist, as well as a ritual dagger which was hidden behind the back of his jacket. In fact, that last weapon was very much almost a part of Azraeth, and it seemed to blend seamlessly in with just about any outfit he wore. He took it everywhere. You know. In case. Just like the numerous small baggies of ingredients which had been sewn into the lining of his outerwear. He doubted there was going to be a place for him to use said ingredients inside of a government run facility, but better safe than sorry. Right?

He ended up arriving just outside of the designated spot a few short minutes later - it was seemingly built onto the river, and there didn’t appear to be many guards outside. Az suspected that had previously been protocol, so as to not draw attention. However, he’d been there once before, right as the news was breaking about the events unfolding. He knew that there was total chaos going on inside. He couldn’t hear it from where he was. Not through the layers of cement. And so he moved to lean himself against one of the exterior walls, a short distance away from the entrance. ”And now you’re skulking outside looking like a creeper. Tonight is totally going your way.” He said out loud, to himself as he reached for his phone. It only took a second to pull up the Voodoo Dragon group conversation.

To Vooodoo Dragons : At the facility, waiting outside. Ready to kick some *** and take some names.

And then after hitting ‘submit’, he scrolled over to Mortll’s conversation, so he could shoot her a quick text as well.

To Mortll : So I know you want to destroy the cure. I was wondering if, instead, we should try to get our hands on it. If it turns out to be a complete hoax, then sure, we destroy the research and the cure, but there might be a few beneficial uses to it. Either way. I think once we run recon, we should hit hard and fast. Let me know your thoughts.

And then it was time to play the waiting game.

He waited in the shadows, able to blend into the darkness itself, had his skin not been so unearthly pale. There was always something about Az that made him seem like he wasn’t quite there. Like reaching out to touch him might send one’s hand right through his body. He was like a specter woven from umbra. He had just gotten off of his phone a few moments before, after a brief exchange with Amalea, and after sending a telepathic message to his sire. Which naturally meant he was left to his own devices, and left thinking about what was happening around him. And that was why he had called for his wraith to come and join him. The little shade had been lovingly nicknamed Igor, because it seemed to have a hunch on its back, though frankly Az had no clue why it was so misshapen. It looked, as with all of its kind, like a silhouette, so determining precise features was difficult, if not outright impossible. It was a short thing, which sort of crept along the ground, with squat, stubby limbs. “Go inside and take a look around. When I was in there last, I caught sight of the technology used to keep the doors up to the next level locked, and I’m somewhat familiar with it. You’re going to need to see if you can pick up a card with the right clearance on it.”

The wraith stood there unmoving. Az pictured a blank look.

“Okay, so a card is like a flat rectangle.” He made the shape of it in the air in front of himself with a finger. “And it might have the face of the person wearing it on it. You’re probably looking for one with a bar code or a magnetic strip on it.”

Another pause, the wraith still completely stationary.

“A magnetic strip is a dark, thick line that normally runs across the bottom. Though now that I think about it, it might have a chip or so…”

Ignor, by that point, had completely turned away, and seemed to be paying very close attention to a dark cat moving across their path in the distance. Az’s already slitted pupils narrowed until they were very nearly thin lines. “Okay. **** it.” He shut his eyes, and reached out with his consciousness, as if he was stepping outside of his own body, only to creep towards the unsuspecting wraith.

Suddenly he was looking right through Igor’s...whatever wraith’s had instead of eyes. He was in control, and the sluggishly moving spirit began towards the compound’s entrance. Azraeth wanted to minimize damage as much as possible. If he could find what he was looking for without killing a dozen men, that was going to be preferable, not only from the perspective of effort, but also ethically. And taking any stance when it came to the cure seemed to be like opening an ideological can of worms. Did one participate in wholesale slaughter to potentially prevent genocide? It was like the concept of fighting for peace. Violence, by its very nature, always begat violence. Right. He wasn’t going to think about it. Because he was infamously terrible at making his world view a lot more complicated than he needed to.

And so Igor crept through the first floor of the Lonslade building, crawling over corpses. Of course, a wraith couldn’t rifle through belongings, or move the bodies around, but he could inspect, and look at the other men and women who were fighting. Except that it was complete and total chaos. What was going on inside of the compound was the visual equivalent of perpetual, loud, noise. It was already difficult enough to see through Igor, but Az felt like he was getting a headache just trying to keep the connection and focus on one thing for more than a couple of seconds. This wasn’t working.

So he quit, instead returning back to himself. Which turned out to be pretty good timing. It looked like there was someone drawing closer. His pupils dilated to try and drag in as much light as possible. Still, he didn’t really get a good look at the approaching figure. To the guy’s credit though, he didn’t move in for an attack, and though Az had no clue who it was. Well. He didn’t care as long as the man wasn’t trying to skin him alive.

A phone came out, and then Az’s phone buzzed against his hip, and he slipped it out. The light hurt his eyes, and he briefly shut them, blinking rapidly a couple of times to try and get accustomed to the new influx of illumination. And then he looked from his cell to the figure he was still a fair distance from. He pocketed his device, before drawing closer. “So are you...you know.” He reached to itch near his inner elbow. “Here about the stuff? You know. The good stuff?” He asked, and then he stopped short, only to bring up both hands, middle fingers lifted in front of his chest, either of the angled to point at his face.

And then he cracked a grin. “I take it you’re one of Mortll’s friends? A new member of the Dragons?” He asked, before sparing a glance in the direction of Longslade. “Wish we could have met in better circumstances, but they don’t honestly get much better around these parts. I’m Azraeth by the way.” His fingers retracted, and a hand slid, open palm up.

His hand slipped away from Flynn’s, and dragged upwards through the air so that he could press the tip of an index finger against his cheekbone, and let his thumb touch his jaw, with his other three digits tucked against his palm - though they partially obscured the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t shake this feeling that he had seen the other man somewhere before. But how common was that? He had read somewhere that there were only a few basic facial structures in the world, with variations on top of those that made people differ in appearance - that was why it was so common to get that feeling of having met a person before. Of course, the general lack of light didn’t really help. Az’s own eyes looked a bit like blue starbursts. In fact, they had no white to speak of, which gave them a vaguely alien appearance, with the black slit right down the middle of either one. When he had first been turned, he’d worn sunglasses (at night, mind you) or special contacts to give him a more human appearance. Now, if he concentrated, he could take on a slightly more mundane appearance - but usually not for very long. Overall, they were a bit of a pain in the ***, and yet they visibly marked him for the Dragon that he was.

“Mutual...agreement.” He repeated, his brows flattening closer to his eyes, his gaze narrowing, the corners of his lips upturning. That was the sort of thing that people said when they were either in some sort of business arrangement, or if they were having some kind of illicit affair. Az wanted to tell Flynn that Mortll was bound to his brother, but Enzo had been missing for months...and really, it wasn’t his business anyway. Mortll was family, and she was her own person. If she felt like she needed to move on, temporarily or permanently, that was her choice. That was the thing about the Dragomir, in some ways they really did possess certain traits associated with the mythical beings for which they were named. Independence. Az didn’t believe in lording his bond over them, or telling them what to do. It was up to each person to determine what was best for themselves, what made them happy, and go for it. And of course, if it was true, it only proved, once again, that Mortll had exceptional taste in partners. “You’ll have to tell me the details of that at some point in the future, Mr. Ryder.” He decided, without missing a beat.

“Feeling nervous?” He asked a second later as he pushed his fingers into the pockets of his jacket. He noticed that the other man’s eyes kept scanning around. Not that he blamed Flynn. What they were about to do was extremely illegal. Not only illegal, but undoubtedly amoral and ethically unsound. He supposed if the human, he certainly felt human at least, could really throw in his lot with the Dragons despite potential reprisals from his own kind. Well. It said something about his character. Things that Azraeth appreciated, at the very least. People rarely ever did the right thing. Charities skimmed 98% of donations, mega church leaders scammed people out of millions to donate to hate groups or line their own pockets, and everyone who had ever sat on a jury and had voted ‘guilty’ had done their part in perpetuating a broken system that destroyed lives. Morality was a delicate thing to Az. What was most ‘right’ was the subject of work for countless philosophers, thought about and discussed over the space of lifetimes. In the end, the only good that really mattered to the Mystic was the good that ensured the people he cared about continued to live. And if Flynn proved loyal to that in the face of adversity - well, hats off to him.

“Yeah.” He said as he finally half turned away from Flynn to glance towards the entrance. “It’s as bad as you’re probably imagining. Like I don’t know what your background is, but if you get queasy around blood at all, I wouldn’t go in there. Have you ever played on a slip n’slide? Think that, but with blood on basically all the surfaces. It’s some real **** show, horror movie stuff in there, my friend.” He commented. “I was just taking a look around with my wraith.” He commented. Of course. He might have just been ******* with Flynn at that point. It was undeniably pretty bad. It was a battleground.

“Anyway, what brought you here? I’m sure Mortll wouldn’t have minded if you sat out of this fight. Based on the lack of responses to the group text, I doubt we’re going to have more than four or five people. Do you think you have something to prove, or is it something else?” Yeah. It was a personal question. Normally Az avoided those until someone invited him into more personal spheres of their life, but he was curious. He ended up dragging his gaze back to Flynn, so he could peer into the other man’s eyes.

His eyes became more animated at Flynn’s response. It wasn’t due to knowing about the Rapunzel character, because the way Disney movies were systematically advertised everywhere, all the time made it almost impossible to not have a least some information about them. Especially if one had even a tangential connection to a child. Azraeth was aware of them because he was an avid fan of the fantastical. When he had been a young boy, he’d been in love with Disney, and Harry Potter. Age had only made his interest in unique fantasy and fairytale worlds deepen. Now? Well. Now he was a vampire Mystic, who could do some of the very same magical feats he had always read about. He was, in a word, a nerd. Shamelessly. To digress though, what amused Azraeth was that Flynn wanted to change the subject almost immediately after. It wasn’t so much that he took joy in any momentary discomfort the other man felt. It was a lot more…visceral than that. Az liked people who were flawed. Who weren’t entirely perfect, who were, at their very core, human. And it was a very human thing for a guy not to want to be associated with kid stuff.

So he didn’t press the topic, and made a note to avoid using the name ‘Mr. Ryder’ when other people were around.

“A business arrangement.” It seemed that one of Az’s instincts had been accurate after all, just not the one he originally thought. “That’s a dangerous game to be playing.” He admitted after he learned more about Flynn and Mortll’s agreement. “I mean you’re making alliances and friends with people those like yourself would normally want to make enemies out of. You’re sort of condemning yourself to stand in the middle, not entirely vampire, and never really accepted as a paladin. Especially if some of the crazies in this city ever figure you out. I mean you’re dancing on the proverbial razor’s edge, potentially able to piss everyone off all at once.” In fact, Az wouldn’t have been shocked if that inevitably happened. It seemed like the denizens of Harper Rock seemed to love finding every single reason they could to kill or maim each other. He realized that his words were not, in the slightest, comforting. But they weren’t meant to be. He wanted to be very real with Flynn, to make it clear what was at stake, because it was important to him that people made informed decisions. That didn’t stop him from trying to play it off as a joke though. He clasped his hand on the Paladin’s back with a clapping sound, and gave a little squeeze. “Welcome to the Dragons!” And then he chuckled softly, only to glance sidelong at the other man.

“Seriously though. I don’t care who you are, what your past is, or what you do in your free time. As long as you have my back, I’m going to have yours.” Okay. So it wasn’t as if Az was slicing his palm and promising to be blood brothers forever, but sometimes a political alliance was as much as one could expect from another person. Especially, as Raeth had learned, when people in Harper Rock had the political loyalty of deranged mice. He had seen people change sides dozens of times, seen them go from loving each other to trying to murder each other. He had seen countless dozens, maybe even hundreds disappear without a trace. In his short time as a vampire, he had learned that stability was an illusion, and that sometimes a guy just had to take what he could get. Make the best out of it.

Perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, that made Raeth lucky. He had been born as a twin, and had always been able to depend on his brother in life. In death, that role had been essentially usurped by Nikolae. Though people like Mortll had all but stepped up to give him a home. He suspected Flynn would get the same treatment with time, if vampires ever got a chance to feel really and truly comfortable around him.

“Oooh. Moral high ground. You are going to end up haaaating me.” He admitted even as he let go of a shoulder, and straightened up, his hands once more dipping into his jacket pockets. “I mean when you need to drink blood to survive, you have that whole slippery slope thing to worry about. Like the value of life and who gets to determine it type of deal. I’ve learned never to take the moral high ground, because I fall off of it and sink right into the gutter faster than you can say ‘**** in a truck’. I think maybe morality is a social construct, and the only thing that matters at the end of the day is your actions and how they impact the people around you, that you care about.” And then he paused, looking just a little sheepish. At his core, Az was an academic. He loved to learn, and loved to teach, loved to have real conversations about things that actually mattered, with people whose opinions went deeper than ‘well this is what I believe’. Something told him that Flynn was more than just a handsome face. Well. Okay. So either he was really dumb for getting himself into the position he was in. Or, the more likely answer was that he was already grappling with some pretty heavy concepts despite being what Az guessed was relatively new to the whole supernatural human versus vampire game. “But you didn’t ask for my opinion on the matter. I promise I won’t try to tempt you to the darkside too often.” Which was probably a blatant lie, but oh well.

And so it was Az’s turn to try and change the subject. He was thankfully supplied with a fairly easy out. “Don’t worry about the jacket. She’s gotten worse on her than vomit before, and I think you’re right. You probably honestly won’t have time to impress anyone anyway. When you’re in there, you won’t have time to think really at all. Just act.” In truth, the Mystic had a certain respect for battle, the purity of it, the way that a person didn’t have the luxury of hesitation. But maybe he was just romanticizing it. On the whole though, it was clear that Flynn was a tough guy. Or at the very least, he cared about his image. Cared about making it clear that he had the faculties to back up what he said. Az got the impression that he was a serious man. It occurred to him that Flynn was probably trying to carve out his niche in their world, and Raeth found himself going over the possibilities almost out of habit. Because that was what he did. Gave people around him the tools to be successful.

Well. When they let him. Which was surprisingly rare.

“So we know you fight evil by moonlight, but what do you do by daylight?” He asked. “I mean we’re in Harper Rock, which I believe has the highest per capita number of celebrities, professional criminals, and tattoo artists for any city in Canada.” Because Az didn’t do awkward silences very well.