Path of the Vampire forum

"La carte, s’il vous plaît," a woman's voice said, slowly, articulating each word carefully.

"La carte, s’il vous plaît," Audric mouthed, feeling himself fumble over the pronunciation even though he hadn't said a word aloud.

"La carte, s’il vous plaît. The menu, please," a woman said before moving on to the next phrase. L’addition s’il vous plaît. The bill, please. Except he was still fumbling over the other.

"La carte, s’il vous plaît." There was static over the intercom, muffled by the earbuds he wore but loud enough that he popped one out to hear the librarian announcing the library was closing for the evening.

Audric frowned, the fine lines around his mouth and across his forehead deepening, as he popped the CD tray out from the desktop computer. It clicked when he pressed it into its case, then he unplugged his earbuds and rose to his feet.

"How'd it go?" Nancy asked. Her chunky low heels thunked on the creaking floorboards as she crossed over to him. Her reading glasses hung from a cord around her neck, almost lost in her cheetah print scarf. She was portly in her old age, but hadn't cut her silver hair yet to hide that it was thinning, although she put her eyeliner on in a solid, black line beneath her eyes.

"La cart-uh, seal vouz play," Audric parroted. "Juh vase prond-ruh le pork. Juh nuh parl-uh pass frances."

"Well, I understood the last one at least," she said with a smile as he rose and handed her back the CD case.

"I don't know why I'm bothering. My life has been fine without it, I'm almost middle-aged, I can make it the rest of my life fine without, too."

"Arrête ton char!" He stared at her blankly. "It means stop your chariot. Stop exaggerating. But if you aren't doing this for the raise at work anymore, you're going to have to find another reason to come check out your favorite local librarian," she said with a sassy old woman wink, and nudged his firm shoulder. She didn't budge him. "You'll be back tomorrow to try again."

It was a few blocks to the nearest transit, but it was 20°C. He'd been less comfortable earlier walking the distance from the transit to the library in his blue, oil-stained Dickies, but it was better now. Audric pulled a pack of gum from a pocket and popped a piece in his mouth, chewing on it furiously. His work boots thumped down the steps to the transit — it was even cooler underground, in this place that the sun never touched.

Mason swept the blade upwards through the arm of the masterless vampire who reeled back in pain, a vampire who she discovered killed its prey. And that put it very high on Mason's list of foul creatures that needed to be eradicated. Mason perhaps was no longer a paladin by species, a human turned vampire hunter. Now a vampire herself. But she still acted like one in some sense. Hunting down vampires who she saw as a threat to humanity, or who were maliciously cruel. True, they didn't stay dead. But every amount of pain she could cause them in return for that they gave to others. And every more day they spent in the shadow realm and away from people. It was worth the trouble.

She hadn't even needed her gun for this one, she fought things far worse then this. Though that didn't mean the battle was short. This particular vampire kept trying to run away and so Mason kept having to chase it down. Skittering down the sewers after it as she tried to take it down. It disgusted her what vampirism was. Even to herself. But the more she could be rid of, the less she had to feel that her own nature was in control.

Still, it would take only a few more minutes, and the vampire would be ashes at her feet. Mason herself left almost entirely unharmed, but armed with a full on sword and pistol, staring at the ashes. The scuffle may have caught the ears of someone near enough in the subway or sewers, as she was not particularly far from one of them.

“Oh merde! Not again!”

The young blonde vampire practically squeaked the words out as she dropped the person in her arms, after rapidly sealing the wound and jumping back before, she hoped, she was seen. A furtive glance given, and she was feeling pretty safe that she hadn’t been caught. A few humans had appeared out of nowhere as she fed, but thankfully it was nothing to worry about. This time, anyway.

Despite the wise words of the witchy-looking woman, Zodiac, that stuck with her all these weeks later, Lydia still hadn’t quite mastered the art of weighing hunger versus dealing with the outside and all its consequences. She was getting better about it, but there were still too many times she messed that one up, too often hiding herself inside, away in her apartment, until she was nearly driven mad by hunger and couldn’t make it to the corner shop to grab blood packs in time, before it took over her every move and false breath.

She drew a deep one of those and decided it just wasn’t worth the trouble to keep up until she could hold no more - not that night. No, instead, it was time to hit the transit and perhaps find a shop on her way home before she did something she really regretted. She could always force herself out the next night and hope for the best, hope she made it out before she had any further issues that could not be cured with time and planning ahead.

And so, before she knew it, her feet had carried her to the entrance of the local train station. In a few more steps, she’d be down the stairs and waiting on the platform. How she’d ended up so far from her usual area she would never know, but the hunger could be blinding at times. She whipped her phone out of a pocket of her leather jacket and quickly checked the schedule. As she was scrolling through, trying to decide what platform she needed to be on, she looked up just in time to stop herself colliding with a rather tall, broad human guy.

A gasp hurtled down her throat as she stopped short, those blasted fangs cutting into her lower lip just before she remembered, again, they were there. She clapped a hand to her mouth with another muffled curse and jumped back. “S-sorry...!” she managed to blurt out, wide eyed as she looked up at him, furtively licking at the blood on the inside of her lip and hoping, for the umpteenth time that night, that she hadn’t given herself away and opened herself up for a bounty on her head.

The platform was desolate and empty. After dark Harper Rock always seemed quieter than any other city Audric had ever been to. Sometimes it was nice; light traffic, short lines, easier to call a cab, bad karaoke nights were short and sweet. The downsides? Fewer women in bars, fewer places seemed open (a few weeks ago he'd called in an order for Chinese delivery, and the man had laughed at him and said they didn't do delivery after sunset), a generally unsettling atmosphere, and fewer women in bars.

The vibe was potent enough that he wasn't comfortable sitting down on the bench to wait for the train. He remained standing, thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his pants. He could feel the stitching of each starting to loosen from the habit. But from there old habits came back; his eyes scanned and darted around the platform, watching for anything out of place or suspect. Listening for anything that didn't belong. Areas like this, built from tile, stone, and concrete, were natural amplifiers. He was yet to find a busker in any of the stations, so instead he listened to the distant sound of trains on other lines and pipes.

Distant, barely audible, he heard the sole of a shoe scuffle over the ground. The pattern was distinct and familiar. Running, at least two pairs of feet although the echoes made it difficult to pinpoint. There may have been three, perhaps four. Audric shut his eyes and focused on the sound, letting his feet carry him in the direction of the ruckus. The toe of his work boot hit a metal door instead of a concrete wall, and Audric's eyes popped open. It was some sort of city maintenance entrance. The noises were significantly louder here.

His eyes glanced around the platform once more to ensure he was still alone before he pulled a petite screwdriver from the cargo pocket of his oil-stained navy work pants. He slid the tip into the lock bit by bit, jiggling and shimmying the blade between the tumblers as he went. His wrist tilted it this way and that, feeling his way through. On the other side of the door he could still hear the ongoing struggle — it sounded even closer than before. Definitely not four people. At last Audric twisted the handle and it gave way under his hand. Triumph filled him as he pulled the door ajar, then a loud gasp behind him and he took a step inside without meaning to.

Audric turned around to see who'd snuck up on him, and was again caught off-guard to see a woman who looked even more startled than himself. She had her phone in one hand and the other over her mouth in what seemed to be obvious surprise, looking up at him with wide, doe eyes. “S-sorry...!” Just some chick not paying attention to where she was walking. He put on his best stern face and dropped his voice to an authoritative tone that he normally found any reason to avoid using.

"It's fine. You shouldn't be in here." Maybe his work uniform would make the pass and she'd think he belonged in here and that only she didn't. He hoped she couldn't hear the ongoing scuffle which, now that the door was open, he could hear well. The noises were coming from behind another door that had a dingy white magnetic sign on it that said "SEPTIC TUNNELS". He turned away from her dismissively, eyes searching the unfamiliar room for something he could carry in with him. There was a sledgehammer leaning in a corner and he picked it up, feeling the heft. Felt like a twenty pounder. The sound of struggle abruptly stopped, and he knew time was running out. Audric glanced up to see if the woman was still there.

Even as she fought the vampire before her Mason thought on her life now. Every day a struggle against her vampiric tendencies. Some perhaps only truly felt hungry when they were particularly in need, but for Mason, every day if she didn't feed it could create agony. Sometimes, it had prompted her to feed on people in spite of every desire to do otherwise. Fortunately, in time, she'd learned a way to get away with it without getting caught. But still, it felt so wrong. She tried to rely on blood bags, or animals, when she could. But she was always on the hunt, and that made that part a bit more difficult.

Finally, the vampire was nothing but ashes on the floor, the blood on her blade slowly vanishing into the ashes just like the vampire. Her clothes were cut here and there, but nothing too awful. It was noticeable, but it could easily be disregarded as unusual fashion sense. Given her extensive tattoos she knew that people might believe she was the type to have that type of clothing. Still, she pulled on the shirt groaning at it. It did bother her. Buying clothes regularly was not the most enjoyable thing. She was surprised she'd gotten that many cuts on the clothing, given she had little more then a nick here and there.

Mason sighed, putting her sword in a scabbard across her back. For a second she was about to sit down when her head shot up and to the side. A sound, she thought she'd heard a voice, a door opening. Footsteps. She had to think quickly glancing down either direction of the sewers, she wouldn't be able to round the corner in time. And she couldn't teleport while down here.

She let out a sigh, better to just go with it, hope that she could find some way to explain things. Or drift the subject off the fact she was down here in torn clothing with a sword on her back. Might as well have fun with it, she quietly rushed over to the door and around an arms length away from the opening side, so they might see her upon exiting. And then, she just leaned leaned to one side, and waited.

The slight blonde woman’s jaw dropped as all mousey-ness and apologetic eyes suddenly switched right off and a coolness sidled down her spine. It was a rare thing for someone to get her back up like that, but Lydia had had enough. Shouldn’t be here?! Her jaw snapped shut, the last of the wounds in her lip sealing up even if some blood remained on alabaster skin. “Excuse me,” she snapped, finally hitting her breaking point of a truly shitty night and not willing to take much more. “Why the hell not?! I have every right to be here! It is a public transit, isn’t it?” She had to stop herself from gritting her teeth or growling because he was either being so... so rude because he’d caught the flash of fangs and didn’t like her kind around, or, just as bad, because she was a woman. Either way, her brows drew together and she had to hold back the annoyed hiss that wanted to make itself known. And yet it was somehow refreshingly different to the catcalls and nasty up and down looks and attempted gropes that usually greeted her...

That was, until, he picked up a nearby sledgehammer and her gaze went wide. Lydia went no where without weaponry those nights - maybe not Lyra and Nexus, the two rather large items gifted by her Sire when he was still around - but always a knife and an easy to conceal firearm. The latter was in her other pocket and she wrapped her fingers loosely around the grip and pulled it slightly loose. “I think you should put that down,” she said with far more authority in her tone than she felt, somehow not registering the sounds of a struggle in the nearby sewer, nor of their abrupt end.

Her reaction could not have been further from what the situation needed. Young woman too distracted by her phone was suddenly fifty pounds sopping wet of pure blonde fury. She meeked up for half a second when she noticed the sledge then — hot damn, she started pulling out an f'n piece. He dragged his fingers down the scruff of his face in frustration. He'd pulled a full shift at work, studied at the library until close, and wanted little more than to fall asleep on his couch with his feet up on the coffee table. He regretted investigating those sounds already, and now he could feel as time tangibly seeped away from him.

“I think you should put that down."

"Lady," he said curtly, more frustrated than scared. He'd looked down the barrel of bigger guns than that, although he'd really been hoping to avoid anymore of that when he moved here. Audric pointed a finger vaguely around the room, and prayed his generic blue Dickies, with his grungy name tag that said 'Mike', would make the cut of being convincing enough. "This is the maintenance room. Employees only. You shouldn't be in here. Public transit stops at the doorframe. Smells better out there, too." Then he jabbed a thumb behind him at the sewer entryway. "I'm opening that door. So unless you really want to get your nose in it..."

Audric let his words trail off as he grabbed a flashlight off a shelf and turned it on for a second to make sure it worked; he had his SureFire V1 in his pants with his knife, but his gut said she'd be more likely to reflexively squeeze the trigger if he reached for a pocket. This yellow light already seemed too bright in the dim room anyway, and something about the shadows on her face...The way they settled into the structure of her bones...unsettled him. Seconds ebbed away like fleeting tides, and he had a big damn decision to make with limited options. He didn't like any of his choices, and cursed under his breath as he turned his back on her and her gun, hoping his words would actually be enough for her to see herself out this time before whatever big bad was on the other side of that door didn't have a door between them anymore. If she was a smart woman, and she looked like she was a smart woman — smart enough to carry a gun when she was out after dark, at least — she wouldn't want to see what would happen next.

He gripped the handle of the sledgehammer with one hand, then used the hand holding the flashlight to pull open the door enough for him to get the toe of his boot in and kick it ajar. He stepped into the darkness without hesitation, gripping the sledgehammer in one hand . He saw the silhouette of a person and switched on the light, beaming it on their face. It was another woman with — was that a sword across her back?

"What are you doing down here?" he asked, adjusting his grip on the sledgehammer's handle. "I need to see some ID."

Mason frowned, they sure were taking their sweet time. She could make out the voices a little now. Some kind of argument, sounded dangerous, she was beginning to consider opening the door from this side herself when it was finally pushed open and she caught sight of Audric, asking what she was doing while holding a sledgehammer, she grimaced at the thing, then he demanded to see some ID while shining a light in her face. She waved her hand away and put it slightly over her eyes so she could still see through and her face was mostly visible.

Well whoever he was, he wasn't a vampire, so unless he was a paladin she figured her chances were good if it came to a fight. That, and Mason didn't necessarily feel like responding to someone ordering for ID unless they were a cop or she was getting in somewhere that wasn't easily accessible from the streets. A story plaid out in her mind in an instant, one not too far from the truth.

She raised an eyebrow with a grin at the man, then looking over his uniform, no reflective vest. His clothes looked like a workers, but not a sewer workers. He could probably walk around down here just fine with that, his pants were even dirty already. Though she couldn't tell if it was muck or oil for sure. But he himself didn't stink quite like the sewer did. Her eyes returned to his, "Maybe I should be asking for yours. Where's your safety vest? Rubber boots? Rubber...overalls? You look more like a mechanic then a sewage worker. And you sure aren't law enforcement, not with...'Mike' as a nametag."

she asked the questions quickly as if she knew for sure what they were supposed to wear. She did have a fairly good idea, she wasn't unfamiliar with the sewers, lots of filth tried to escape from her down here. It was one of the places she started off hunting them in.

The woman leaned over, "Now who's with you, I heard voices." she caught sight of Lydia within...vampire. Her paladin instincts that once existed were still whispering to her, telling her to attack, but she shook them off and smiled at the woman, knowing full well she probably also realized Mason was a vampire, "Not having too much trouble I hope?" she asked. She wasn't incredibly concerned about her safety, she was a vampire, and the man was human. It was unlikely he was threatening her in this situation. Still, she did intend on listening if the woman had something to say.

She'd step out a little, avoiding the sewage, so both of them could see her more easily, and tap the sword on her back. She did have a pistol behind her, but that was irrelevant right now. "I saw someone bit sketchy, they ran off when they saw me so I took after them. Might have a target on their heads, probably did given the way they ran. Innocent people don't run like that, no matter what weapon you have on you."

Lydia looked all around her, even as her grip tightened around the pistol in her pocket. The man’s reaction would have been almost comical in any other circumstance, or if it had been anyone but her facing him down.

Well ****, she thought, looking around. He was right. She’d blindly followed him right into the utility room without so much as a second thought, and all because she was sick to death of everyone that night and her anger had gotten the best of her at yet another challenge. Worse, from yet another man who seemed to think she was nothing more than a shrinking violet, a delicate flower who would do as she was told simply because he’d had the audacity to try. Her pretty features twisted up into a sneer, even as she debated, internally, whether she would respond the way he thought she would or rise to the challenge. And yet, there was still an air of danger about the entire situation, though she couldn’t place her finger on why. Her blue-violet gaze narrowed and her chin lifted into an almost arrogant look. If he really thought she would be shaken by a nasty smelling place, he clearly was not aware that she ranked among the undead, after all, and had seen plenty worse.

She almost choked out a laugh when he demanded ID of the woman she could see, just around the corner - from all she could tell, he was just a guy on his way home - or wherever - after a shift. He certainly looked it, in the greased up coveralls, and definitely not like someone who had any authority in the underbelly of the City. For the first time, Lydia gave him a good once-over. So she wasn’t the best when thrust into random interactions - but the closer she looked at the large presence before her, the more the other’s woman’s words rang true.

She got a better look at the tattooed female and, at last, her instincts kicked in. Without a doubt, she was another vampire, and had clearly been hunting something. She had to admit, the thought of taking some frustration out on a deserving bit of trash sounded appealing, though it was entirely possible her idea of trash differed greatly from the other vampire’s. “No trouble at all, actually,” she answered in slightly accented speech, a half-smirk tugging at her lips. “What sort of sketchy are we talking about?” she asked, unable to help herself. Appearances could be deceiving; the well-dressed and groomed blonde wasn’t at all afraid to get her hands dirty.

Something felt...off. More than off, actually, but Audric couldn't put his finger on what exactly was wrong besides the obvious. There was some primordial alarm ringing in his head that he needed to get out of the situation he was in, but he'd be damned if he could figure out exactly how. He'd come to Harper Rock to lead a quiet life, and eventually die in a quiet nursing home where he wouldn't have had any visitors. He'd leave everything to one of the nurses and, sooner or later, be forgotten. He could feel his grasp on that future slipping away all because something felt wrong right now.

The brunette covered her eyes, exactly as he'd hoped. If she'd been more menacing, this would've been the opening he'd need to levy the first blow. But, with the sword sheathed across her back and no other visible weapons, it would've been unwarranted now. He didn't like her short appraisal of him, however. He had a feeling his charade wasn't holding water — he hadn't been in Harper Rock more than a few months, and he hadn't ever paid much attention to the city workers. He didn't really know what they wore and how they looked. For all he knew, tattoos above the collar and past the cuffs weren't acceptable for their employees. He wasn't sure how much of his ink they could see in the dark.

"Maybe I should be asking for yours. Where's your safety vest? Rubber boots? Rubber...overalls? You look more like a mechanic then a sewage worker. And you sure aren't law enforcement, not with...'Mike' as a nametag." At least she'd ruled that out, if his shoulder-length hair hadn't given it away first. Can't blame a guy for trying. "Now who's with you, I heard voices."

The brunette glanced in the blonde's direction, and it was damned second nature for him to move himself a few inches in that direction to get between them. He didn't know what had happened down here, he didn't know if this woman was safe to be around. Even if the blonde had a bit of an attitude, he wasn't going to hang blondie out to dry.

"I saw someone bit sketchy, they ran off when they saw me so I took after them. Might have a target on their heads, probably did given the way they ran. Innocent people don't run like that, no matter what weapon you have on you."

Very Hitchcock of her, minus the long fall and gently rocking vehicle. But at least they had a blonde, who chimed in with a timely, “What sort of sketchy are we talking about?”

He trusted his gut. It'd seldom led him astray before, and Audric had to believe it wouldn't now. The hair was raised on the nape of his neck. He didn't set aside the sledgehammer, but he let it hang at his side with a little less intent than when he'd first walked in. He shone the flashlight around the sewer, looking for any signs of struggle. He didn't spot any blood, any body, and separated limbs. There was a pile of dirt a short distance away that his light lingered on, but that wasn't any indicator of a crime. He dragged the light away, back to the woman with the sword, waiting to hear her response. They were already on his game that he wasn't a city working, and he wasn't going to incriminate himself more by volunteering more information. But he did gesture toward the door with the hand holding the flashlight, head jerking in the same direction.

"Talk out here?" he offered, hoping changing the venue out of the sewer would alleviate some of the uneasy misgivings he was feeling.