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100
Posted: 01 May 2019, 22:42
by Zodiac
It was a reflex. Nothing more. One moment she was foraging in the graveyard, the next the thing was upon her. The short sword appeared in her hand as she began to dance. ‘Dance’ was a term used by an almost forgotten friend of hers to describe how she fought in close quarters. She never stopped moving as she hacked away at the reanimated thing, who could not begin to keep up with her movements. The outcome was inevitable. A final slash as she spun around and the thing let out a gasp as it collapsed into a pile of rotted flesh and broken bone.
‘Thank you for the dance,’ she smirked as she cleaned off her blade, only to pause when a sense of energy filled her 5 foot frame for a moment. It left just as quickly as it had came. She leaned against the closest headstone and reached into the sash she often wore around her waist. From a hidden pocket she pulled out a length of red yarn that had multiple knots tied along its length. She added another knot to the line and did a quick count of them.
100.
100 times since she had been turned to the darkness she had felt this odd sensation. It came less frequently now in the ensuing years than it did in the beginning, but once she had noticed it she began to keep track of it. What caused it, she wondered for perhaps too many times to consider. She took a moment to take stock of herself. Yes, she felt it. She could go farther now before being forced to rest. She lifted her blade and made a few practice passes in the air. A bit smoother, quicker than before.
It was one of the questions she discussed with no one. Not even her friends. The gypsy had grown bored with people looking at her as if her brain had just fell out of her head. Perhaps some of the originals might have a clue, but if she managed to find one still active she imagined the answer would be the same if she had been talking to a pile of ashes. Nothing. Perhaps a superior smug smile or a raised eyebrow, but nothing of any depth or substance. It was her current opinion they were just as clueless as the new breed was on things, but banked on their age to give them a spooky/you best respect me/I know more than you do type of air about them.
She returned her blade to hiding and dusted off her hands. She would have to go outside the town to find what she was looking for. Cemeteries and graveyards within the town limits were now like a parking lot at a good motel. And all of the simple, delicate items such as grave moss, shrooms and other fungi and more she’d use in some of her creations was being trampled under foot by all the traffic of others.
A nudge against her free hand caught her attention. The black cat meowed softly as the girl began to pet it. ”Never a dull moment, eh?” she laughed. "You and I have traveled a ton of roads and have seen more than our share of strange ****.” There was a time when both of them would have taken off running at the sight of a reanimated corpse coming after them. Now? Such a thing was so common it barely annoyed either.
Without a second thought, she stepped over the remains of her attacker and headed to the sewer entrance. Times had changed. She could have walked out the front gate if she wanted to. The QZ was not so ‘quarantined’ anymore. The dijinn was out of the bottle now so no sense keeping the bottle corked, she supposed. She just didn’t like dealing with the troops stationed at the entrance. ‘Join the militia!’ they asked every time. Besides, she chose to keep a low profile now.
As she dropped down into the darkness, she snorted in contempt for the situation above. If others had listened to her in the past instead of mocking and laughing at her, a militia would not be needed. She had tried to warm them all too many times before, but they always knew better. At least until things blew up in their faces and then it was ‘How did this happen?’
She was surprised she herself was not blamed for the woes that had descended on the town. It would not be a surprise. It was like the old joke her grandfather told her once.
A German officer was killed. In the town was a Russian, British, and a American spy. Who killed him?
Answer: the gypsy that was on the other side of town when the murder occurred.
It had been a favorite of the Germans during the war, and had been told to her grandfather by his father. It was a logic that had followed her kind through their history on this world. Need a scapegoat? Find a Romany or anyone from other tribes of their kind. They were vermin and no one would morn their passing.
They way this town ran most of the time, it would not surprise her at all.
She floated just above the refuse and rank water of the sewer. A nod to any she passed as she navigated the path with ease. Ginny padded along the walkways like some ancient shadow come back to life. Her stealth and coloring made her practically invisible within the tunnels. No, they had managed to screw the pooch quite nicely. Through her meditations and the cards she had seen potential other dooms drifting their way soon, but she said nothing. Far be it from her to try and warn people of things they would insist would not happen.
She exited the sewers like a ghost with the cat close behind her. A quick spritz of perfume to mask any odors from below while she took in the sight of the area. She had always considered Wickbridge the heart of the town and it still glowed as if alive in the dark. If she squinted she did not notice the details that tainted the view. The remains of the tall fencing that made up the border of the Zone or the soldiers standing about. So much had changed here, and not for the better.
As she stood on the corner, the girl checked her phone for messages. A smirk crossed her face as she read. Everyone’s absent friend, the so called ‘Administrator’, had come out of his hole again. Finally. No comments on the zombie plague escaping the zone, the new and more terrible creatures appearing in the streets, or the return of a uber-ancient vampiress, but a ******** charity and where it’s donations were actually going? Now he speaks up?
She had never trusted the ‘Crow’ totally, but it seemed his (?) motivations were more straight forward. Unlike this Admin who seem to comment only when something might effect him personally. Potently more illegal stuff entering the town? Was that suppose to be a surprise? When she considered how much illegal things she herself had managed to bring into the town, the idea of someone else doing it hardly seemed like a major issue. Even now she could imagine someone in a secret part of town toiling away at building their own nuclear device.
It simply would not surprise her at all.
(to be continued)
Re: 100
Posted: 05 May 2019, 14:10
by Zodiac
How sad it was, she thought as she walked along, that ‘Wonderland’ had run out of wonders. Oh, there was plenty of bad ones still to be discovered to be sure, but very little of a more positive nature. When she was first turned, the night opened up and she saw things and amazement that only now humanity was beginning to suspect was hiding beside them. It wasn’t all bad, She had seen and learned much in these past 8 years and every new discovery had led her to believe ‘there must be more’.
And there was, but not for the best.
She had seen things she had been told all her live were actually real. The fae folk were real along with zombies, vampires (of course) and lycans. The court was still out on that one. She could not be sure if what she had seen was truly a werewolf or not, but it did fit the bill. Spider people, fish people, half breeds straddling the line between human and vampire. Sorcerers and people who seemed to have the powers described in the Christian Bible. They were all amazing in their own ways, but the only issue was that the majority of them wanted her dead. Was it dead? Re-deaded? She shook her head.
Why was it always about death? The quaint battle cry of ‘Can’t we all get along?’ sure had it’s *** kicked in this place. Only a handful saw past all of that, but only to a degree. Far too many were caught up in the power trip. Even she had been guilty of it in her time when she defended the Masq. It was a rush for sure, until she saw the pointlessness of the entire act. Sending people to the Nexus did not improve their attitudes and ways. It just made them more determined to be *** hats once they came back.
Some things sadly did need to be put to death. Such a bizarre phylum of creatures appearing on these streets over time. Ancient monsters that needed many attacks by masses of vampires to take down, unique creatures one and all who sadly had only one thing in their minds. They could not be allowed to run rampid on the streets -masquerade or not. As many as she herself had dispatched, she studied. Trying to find the rhyme and reason behind and within. Now the damn things were getting smarter. Like a Timber Wolf with a chimp’s brain. Sounds funny until you experience it firsthand. She could imagine the military or government trying to catch and train these creatures to be weapons. Disposable battle tanks to wreck havoc among the enemy until the other side figures out how to make their own. Beast Wars live on a battlefield near you.
She wept for the world. Not the people that lived on it.
Not even the ones who were supposed to be dead but refused to stay in their graves.
The amazing parts mostly were magical in nature. Not just spells, but actual powers. With just a thought there were things she could do that made her more traditional magicks pale in comparison. Teleport herself elsewhere in a blink of an eye. Contort and twist her body beyond the norms and change her appearance to anyone she chose to be. Jump up into the tallest tree she could find. Transform her body into a form that could literally fly. Speak to others within their thoughts, or with a gesture bring a firestorm of death down upon others like her. The list was impressive. Add to that the tomes which could help or hinder others and relics that improved her skills even more-plus her original skills before being turned, the seemingly in appearance harmless girl could be a force if challenged.
The only issue some of her night cousins had, perhaps, was that she didn’t challenge others in return. Only in the courts of reason and logic did she roar (at least in the past) but otherwise she left the others to their own devices. Her problem (as some of the now self important / hey, I was never human to begin with – the rules don’t apply to me / worship me and die crowd would see it) was that despite all that has happened to her,
She was simply (still) too human at heart.
She had her faults when she was alive, just like everyone else on the planet, but rather than letting the vampire amplify and enhance those things she clung to her humanity. It was a never ending battle within her. Being vampire made it too easy to give in to rage, hatred, and the need to assert dominance. Sometimes she did when pushed hard enough and she’d spend weeks sorting herself out afterwards.
Rather than be a monster, she spent her time finding ways to help others (living and no so living) Her skills with the tarot has help guide many to solving issues and problems with their lives. She was a spiritual therapist who treated all that came to her the same. Their secrets were her secrets, and no amount of money or threats could persuade her to speak of what took place in those sessions. An oracle of advice and a keeper of secrets. Just as she had been when she was alive.
(to be continued)
Re: 100
Posted: 08 May 2019, 13:25
by Zodiac
She never claimed to be an angel.
She could be cruel, vengeful and obsessive when properly motivated. Darkness had been part of her before this quasi life she dwelled in now and the darkness was part of her business. When alive she had done many things to continue to stay alive. Spy, snitch, thief, whore, dealer, complicating matters for others and solving matters for others. It was a set of skills she could work as well as more traditional things such as waitress, cook, attendant, seamstress.. Anything to keep the cash coming in to help her continue her journey that ultimately led her to this thrice damned place.
”Do what you must. Survive!”
The final bit of advice her mentor, teacher, high priestess, and grandmother gave her before she died. When her grandmother put her on the path of the esoteric, she taught her all sorts of things. Besides the tarot, potion making was such a skill. Despite the pages of holistic remedies and brews to help people live better lives the girl found in her mentor’s grimores, her Nana was not a fool. Potions and poisons, things that could unlock the tightest of lips, alter reality, debilitate and kill swiftly or a long, painful ending. There were her grandmother’s warning penned above such formulas of course, but such warnings applied to the effect they would have upon the living. Poison was nothing to a vampire. Oh, it would debilitate them for a time, and the mystic had strived to make such things even stronger and more annoying to her fellow night feeders, but the living?
Once the darker elements of humanity discovered her, alliances were made. Despite the small size of this town, the criminal underworld had deep roots here. All at war with each other over money, territory, and power. Once they learned of her and saw what wonders she could create (and, once they learned how they themselves could suffer if they tried to swindle or cross her) they would approach her like visitors from a foreign land would the queen of another. All fawning, speaking softly, explaining the justness of why they needed a bottle of liquid death that could not be discovered after the fact.
And, as always, plenty of cash or things of great value to the girl up front, and a swift payment once the job was done. Services also offered. Things that would be difficult to bring into the town using normal channels, elimination of road blocks in her own dealings, security for her hidden places. Even body guards if she required them. It had occurred to her in the past that if she played things differently, she could have her own organization in play. Human and vampire eliminating the competitions.
But she did not have the desire for that kind of power. As far as her inner scruples went, if evil wanted to kill other evil with the gifts she could brew– so be it. She was happy to hand them weapons to play that game with. As long as she got what was promised in the process. In this, she was still a sort of whore. Whoever had the best offer got her services and she was not above playing for both sides in such things. Some vampires in this place might recall when she did such a thing.
Her true loyalties were to herself and a handful of others. The rest?
Not her problem.
She often wondered how such things kept her ‘humanity’ intact. As much as she mentally reigned fire and **** on the heads of the darker aspects of humanity, her heart and talents embraced the other side of the coin. So much time others of her kind would consider a waste spend on humans. Trying to improve things for those the town as a whole semi-secretly wish would go away and never come back. The poor, the hungry, the homeless. The ones whose luck had gone South in this world. Her advice and insights. Pointing them in the right directions where they could find help to rise up from their station. Charity events, food drives, sponsoring safe houses and warming centers. The idea her efforts came in quite handy as tax write offs never suggested itself as her reason for these actions. These were her people. The same environment she sprang from. She suffered their indignation and had no issues offering a hand up to rise above and be better. Besides, the living still had a chance in this world.
Vampires? More of the same-forever.
In her 8 years as one, she saw very few try to change and a percentage of those who did were simply working a scam to lull others into a trap. It made her head spin. Her ‘brother’ (not a blood relative, but another turned by the same vampire as she had been) maintained being vampire was step up for humanity it its evolution. Granted, this state of life improved some things. Physically the girl was far stronger than she looked. Faster, senses amplified. It all sounded great on the surface.
However, she had also realized that all the bad in people was likewise ‘gone to 11’. Arrogance, prejudice, attitudes. All the garbage most people drag around in life got taken to the extreme in un-life. Most people were mean to start with and now were simply downright evil. Again, once she got the full grasp of what she had become, she ran wild as well until common sense reared its head and asked her what the **** did she think she was doing.
Once she got a grip, she truly began to accomplish things. Things that would be of value in the long game of un-life as well as help others. Others built body counts, she built a business empire.
(to be concluded)
Re: 100
Posted: 09 May 2019, 15:39
by Zodiac
It was the one constant in her existence. Alliances rose and fell, friendships came and went, and romance blossomed then withered, but business was always business. Despite the falsehood of ‘forever’ when it came to vampires, everyone would always need things. Add to that the old saying ‘Do what you love and you will never work’ and she easily carved a nitch others were hard pressed to try and dislodge her from. First one, then a second shop that catered to the esoteric. At the time, when the idea of vampires in town was something laughed about by the majority, the curious sought her out. She wasn’t the only one to do this and as far as she knew they too were successful. (She never had gone to the establishments of others in the same line unless she had been invited. She had no desire to taint the balance of their efforts with her presence.) As the concept of vampires began to gain steam, so did her profits. Spirituality, divination, more and more people wanted answers. The government certainly was not helping matters (and once they did get involved, it was the typical bad B movie deal of trying to learn vamp powers for their own ways so they could rule the world or some other nonsense).
Her efforts to educate the public fell just short of admitting vampires actually existed. The history and legends were discussed (as far as historians had established before their return) and methods one might employ to protect themselves (again, classic history) but she never, ever, came out and said ‘Oh yes, they are real. How do I know? Because I AM one’ and give a demonstration.
That honor was reserved for a fool in the future from where she began. Upon reflection, she had to admit she would have done the same thing. A child’s life was in danger, and he acted to save them and in doing so opened a 55 gallon drum of worms that no one could ignore. Suddenly, holy ****, vampires were real! Despite the effect it had upon the secret community of the not quiet so dead, her business skyrocketed. Hadn’t she been the one who said all along do not think that such creatures could not or never had existed? Even more of the living flocked to her for advice, insight, ideas, and -as always– a glimpse into the future.
A rare smirked crossed her lips. How many do-it-yourself Vampire Hunter kits had she sold? They were totally historically accurate. It was not a sham or a scam, but history brought to life. (Her people were working nights to keep up with the demand) Holy water, prayer books, crucifixes, wooden stakes, mallet, silver dagger, silver bullets and a damn good gun to shoot said bullets with along with a couple books on the history of vampirism all packed in a Van Helsing style travel bag. The market had seriously dropped in recent times for them, and some previous customers complained that said items did not work. She explained honestly that this was what was used in the past and reminded them of the disclaimer she had packed into each kit and the form they signed when purchasing that she was not responsible if they decided to be stupid enough to actually go out and try to kill a vampire. (This was the second form they signed after the one for a gun permit after their background check. She had learned long ago, the law could protect her if she used it just right.)
For a time, even her shops were feeling the crunch. The one devoted to wedding planning was to the point of being opened via appointments while the tea house found itself closing once the sun went down, but her mystic shops were still going along. In recent times, Harper Rock’s economy had taken a nose dive. People did not feel safe out and about at night anymore and some businesses were closing down. It was hard to keep workers when they had to fear for their lives and with sales, restocking, and movement dropping it was economic suicide to keep trying to run as if nothing had changed. However, her shops were generating a upswing she did not consider. As before when vampires were first in the public eye, a swarm of ghost hunters and other wannabees descended on the town, and many of those people consulted her trying to get the inside information on the subject. She sold a ton of equipment, charms, supplies, and items to them when they needed to re-load or adjust their tactics. Easy to please fools who have nothing better to throw their money on.
Now a new wave was beginning to appear, and these were not quite the fools. Questions, hundred of questions. She was forced to call the police (something she would rather eat a broken glass sandwich with radioactive waste sauce before doing normally) a couple times to have these ‘scientists’ removed from her shop. Too many questions and accusations. Even her staff was being harassed in the process and several times she discovered she was being investigated. When delivery trucks would arrive, on occasion she found these idiots questioning the driver. The paid well for what they wanted, but questions, questions. Who supplied her with such goods and where were they located. How did she know to have such things available and make sure she could get them quickly? She had broke several brooms chasing them away. As silly as it sounded, broken brooms were easier to explain than punching someone hard enough to put them into a brick wall.
Oh they were searching for monsters, but a witch hunt was not beneath them in the process. What did they think? She was growing these creatures somewhere and letting them go play in the streets? The fact that some of these ‘experts’ came with official government Ids proved how insane they truly were.
Her perfect disguise had been working against her for a time, but now it was on the verge of destroying her. When she first arrived in this place and opened her original shop, she did not hide herself away but was always out and about and easy to see. A living advertisement for what she did for a living. Once turned, she continued. Hiding in plain sight. The colorful gypsy girl who could perform sleight of hand magic, danced, and did her bit for charity at times. (was quite a show stopper when at the end of her acts she’d teleport out of a crowd while hiding behind a smoke screen.) She was proud of her human origins and made no pretense to being anything more than a Romany who simply knew things.
Now, her normal flamboyant style was a magnet in ways she never intended. Attracting the wrong kind of attention. Keeping her outfits to change into at work and wearing more mundane apparel in public to blend into the crowds. No make up or flashy nails and bangles and flower crowns. She felt naked. Worse, she was insulted. Denying what you were to escape judgment (and worse) was the act of a coward as she saw things. In that, she could agree with the mad ones who acted out in their vampire existence.
Years of enduring scorn and outright hatred for what she was in the past could not be easily forgotten. She did not ask for much in the darkness. She didn’t hurt anyone, unless they pressed the point beyond reason. She was open, warm, and understanding to those who sought her guidance. She simply wanted to be left in peace when it came to her more personal life. She knew her own personal ‘Masq’ was coming to an end when one long time client of hers-so certain Zodiac was a vampire– took it upon herself to throw the holy water contents of a jar into her face in the middle of a session.
What did the girl expect, she could not say. Visions of her melting ala The Wizard of Oz came to mind as she chased the girl out of her shop. Holy water and other blessed objects only affected a percentage of their numbers, not her. But regardless, her bubble of anominity was cracking and with this new wave there was a good chance it would shatter. She never liked the idea of admitting to the world what she had become. She could see herself taken into custody and locked in a room while people poked and prodded her. Pressing her for information and hows and whys about her condition.
Then, in the spirit of her grandfather’s joke about spies, she’d be dissected and killed. In that order. After all, she was an honest to god gypsy of Romany origin.
One less vermin in the world.
to be concluded. I know this was to be the end but I keep remembering stuff.
Chapter Impact: whatever makes me money
Re: 100
Posted: 18 May 2019, 03:44
by Zodiac
So basically wonderland had gone to the dogs. Too little fun and too much drama to deal with. That same formula seemed to leak into almost every aspect of her un-life. Add to that the idea that so much had changed in such a short time. As in life, people move on. Too many friendships ended, too many she cared for simply vanishing without a word. Little to no stability in matters of the heart. She basically drifted from soul to soul, much like original vagabond life when she lived. Her life was more stable when she was alive than it was now. Granted she dealt with money issues and having a landlord ready to toss her out at a moment’s notice, but there had been bonds that helped keep her sane as well. There were both pros and cons to being what she was now. In the sense of physical possessions and monetary affairs, nothing could beat being what she was now, but in matters of inner security, friends, passion, and emotions?
‘This sucks’ did not even come close to expressing it.
Maybe she just expected more than was possible. After all, they were human to begin with and if the vampire amplified negative traits-what did she even hope would happen? As in life, so as in un-life only cranked up.
It made her sad. Her original life was always filled with instability, now it was more so.
The pair entered the park and found it deserted. In the spring normally, this place would be active this time of evening but now it appeared like she walked into a scene in a horror film. The empty, secluded place where the over buxom bimbo would think they are safe until the KILLER emerged.
”Try it,” her mind speak whispered into the darkness as she took a seat on a bench. She sensed no one in the general area, but you could never be 100% sure. As Ginny wandered off and did her own ‘business’, Zo opened her back pack and did a quick check of what she had managed to collect. As she riffed through the sample bags, her fingers found her ‘costume’ wrapped in a cloth below. Actually she was wearing a costume now as she saw it. What her fingers touched was a way of life.
Ginny yowled and brought the girl out of her thoughts. She looked around and saw the zombie shambling its way in her direction. It was painfully slow. She stood up and pulled her blade and began to approach it, only to pause as the stench of this one found her nose. This one had been dead for awhile before reanimating. She had wondered if the effect would spread past the recent dead and begin to affect older bodies. Like the scene in ‘Return of the Living Dead’ when the bodies in their graves began to bang on the insides of their caskets seeking release.
Freaky **** even for a vampire to deal with.
The aroma made her cover her mouth as if she was about to puke and back up a step. ”Yuck, yuck, yuck, YUCK!” he thoughts screamed as she attacked. It took less time than the one earlier. It busted like over ripe fruit and splattered when it hit the ground. ”GROSS! So ******* gross!” She wiped her blade In the grass to rid it of the gunk quickly. As she worked, she noticed she did not feel that small surge of energy as she did earlier. What the actual hell caused that? Once she had the blade as clean as possible, she sat back down on the bench. ”I seriously need a dishwasher large enough for blades,” she continued to complain. Now her short sword reeked as well to say nothing of the splatter on her clothes. Ginny jumped into her lap as if to distract her from the issue.
“One hundred times I have felt that tiny surge of power. What is that all about? “ She asked Ginny. The cat wallowed in her lap as she stroked her belly gently. ”What to do I say to that?”
Ginny just purred and gave her a look that suggested ‘Like I know?’. Zodiac laughed softly. She looked around the deserted park and still saw no one (unless one counted the re-deaded corpse of the particularly aromatic zombie laying in the grass. Her nose wrinkled as she still could smell it.) The entire town was slowly beginning to have a reek of decay in the air from the zombies, plus the monsters gave off their own unique aromas as well. ”Somebody needs to teach those things to bathe occasionally.”
She waved her hand under her nose, unsuccessfully, in a attempt to clear the air as she stood up from the bench and gathered her things. Ginny hopped to the ground and stood ready to follow her lead. As the pair began to leave the park, the smell of the (now finally) corpse faded quickly, but the underlying stench in the air itself was constant. ”Suppose we’ll get used to it. Like those people on the forever on TV zombie-pardon, ‘walkers’– show.” she thought as she made her way to her place. Perhaps the time had come to simply quit worrying about things. She was living in semi-seclusion anyway, so why not go full seclusion. Save for a few special clients, the shops could run on their own. Yes, tomorrow she would do a retreat to her farm house for a few days and sort some things out once and for all. 8 years was enough.
”Let us go home, my love. Hot bath, a nice bottle of bloodwine and just chill out. Then when I am done bathing, this sword can soak in the tub.” She smiled as she picked up the cat before she entered the apartment building.
”I suppose I am taking things way too seriously now. Perhaps I should just think of things differently instead of life, death, and whatever.” she pondered as she approached her apartment. ”Treat the world around me like a bad novel or movie. Maybe a video game. Hey, that’s it! When I got that little surge I should have shouted ‘LEVEL UP!’ or something just as stupid.” she cackled as she locked the door to her private world behind her.
FIN