You're the boss and I'm just a slave (open)

[Anonymous]

((I'm starting this thread with krazikiwi, but I'd love it if more people joined. I'm especially looking for a male vampire, one who'll take kindly to Juliette, rather than try to corrupt her like krazikiwi's gonna try and do =P))

The first thoughts on coming to, were plain and simple and base. Hunger and need dominated her fuzzy mind; everything else fell away to mere nothingness in the wake of those urges. Continual pinpricks that would drive her insane if she didn't satiate her hunger.

It was a darkly lit evening, and the moon had risen from her sepulchral tomb. The creatures of the night were awakening, and with them, she had awoken too. She sat up, and surveyed her surroundings with bleak chocolate eyes. To one side, sprawled the beginnings of a forest, and not far, in the other direction, lay the walls of a city. Muted lights burned from within, silhouetting the city walls, and making them appear even blacker. Everything was draped in a midnight hue, even though it was early evening.

"Want," she said, pointing at a stray cat that stalked the grass, a few feet away from where she sat.

"Take," she then said, and pounced onto the cat. There was nothing to be heard, but the chirping of crickets, and the gentle slurping that permeated the night as she fed upon the life blood of the cat.

She was performing actions, without even being conscious of them. What would happen once she became aware? Once her base needs were satisfied, and the realisation of what she'd become had dawned upon her, how would she then react?

But for now, the girl who'd been missing for over a week now; wasn't thinking of anything. The girl who'd been transported over a thousand miles so that she could never return to her home had nothing on her mind. It was wiped clean as a slate. The girl with the long black hair and small pinched face was nothing but a shadow, she couldn't even call herself human anymore.

Her name, once she'd remember it, if she ever did, was Juliette.

((Will post up her profile soon!))

[Anonymous]

((oh I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted that kind of corruption. :wink: ))

Footsteps, heavy and powerful, echoed through the darkness of the forest; nearby plants and trees shaking helplessly as the enormous creature passed by. They had come from the ocean, following the mountains further inland; for now trying to avoid contact with the 'magic haters'. Of course, when you were 800 lbs and 11' of pure diamond, keeping a low profile wasn't easy, thus the trees came in handy for the time being as did the veil of night that fell upon them.

The large Arcana moved tirelessly through the forest, avoiding trees that came to close, while everything else was trampled underfoot. On his shoulder, a second figure took a seat; much smaller than the first, but far more vicious should the need arise. At the moment, she was quite pleased however, they'd left Necromatia at last. No more would the woman have to worry about changing bodies daily to keep her inhuman beauty. Now if only she could find people who would give her the respect she deserved, then the woman could say she was pleased. Indeed not happy, not until every mortal realized she was far greater than any god they had made for themselves. But for now she would have to wait, not for long though, as the mismatched pair came closed in on a clearing.

Capable of sight in the dark, the demoness, made out a human figure within said clearing; a crimson flash of her eyes accompanying the smirk that crossed her darkened features. The golem possessed no such ability, thus being left in the dark; still the sudden flash of light meant the woman had seen something. Whether a threat or not, the behemoth Arcana, would not know until they had closed in on said target.

((err... I'm stopping there, in case she might want to run and hide from the sound or something. :P))

[Anonymous]

The vibrations reached the soles of her feet, tiny trembling vibrations that tickled, yet alarmed Juliette. She felt the tremors travel up her arms, and paused in her feeding of the cat. What a sight she made. The pitiful figure, in dirty billowing robes, crouched upon the dirt track, with matted fur stuck to her chin, and trickles of blood, sliding from the corners of her mouth.

Juliette whimpered and looked up blindly. Her night vision still hadn't settled, flashes of brilliant colour kept dancing across her vision, kaleidoscopic colours that shifted and transformed back to the darkly lit evening. Objects such as trees became gargantuan and fluid, sliding from the sublime into sharp jagged machines of terror.

"Scared," she murmured to no one but herself. She didn't understand the words, for her brain was still working through a heavy, grey veil. But the sound her lips formed, the enunciation, seemed appropriate.

Still the vibrations continued. It sounded as if some...thing, some huge thing was coming this way. Her eyes darted back and forth, to the woods, where the sound was coming from, to the walls of the city, closed and locked to her. Well, she didn't know that yet, but her gut feeling was that she wouldn't be welcome.

No, the inhabitants would probably think she was a spectre of the night, if she turned up, howling, with bloodstained lips and the dead look in her eyes. Unaware of what she was doing, the next vibration caused her inbuilt flight reflex to be called into action, and with the wildness of an animal, she scuttled away, darting close to the shadows of the city walls and leaving the dead cat behind on the path.

She ended up a few feet away from the main gate, which had two guards standing there, keeping vigilant. Even here in the shadows, she felt too close to them for comfort. A tiny mewl escaped her lips, and she curled up into a ball, fighting the urge which rose up again, like a red cloud, threatening to obscure her vision.

These beings looked like her, that's what her brain said.

"Still hungry," she whispered, again to no one but herself.

((Hehe cue taken! =P))

[Anonymous]

A light snicker was the woman's single response, before a strong beat of her bat-like wings lifted her from her seat on the golem's shoulder and pushed the demon in the direction of the strange figure. It had been a while now since the pair had come into any kind of contact with other sentient beings, at least that weren't trying to kill them; so Azalie was not about to let her target scurry away so easily. Oh no, play time had begun and with that, the Arcana's quest for a new follower. Of course, this little game of cat and mouse would probably not last as long as the stranger intended.

Speaking of cats, the one left on the path was swiped up by skeletal tail, tipped by a dreadfully sharp point. The demon now standing where the shadow had previously been, watching; her gaze attentively following it's mark as it ran for cover. Bothersome was the fact that said cover was, in fact, a solid wall, made to protect a city within; and judging by their location, its denizens would not be the welcoming kind. Curse Connlaoth and their anti-magic rules.

Why did the pair have to choose this of all places, they were after all, the very embodiment of magic; the most natural enemy to this 'magic-hating' society.

Alas, the woman continued to follow her prey, noting the two men as she approached the town. Taking the path straight would obviously not be a good idea. Giving way to an exasperated sigh, Azalie fell back into the foliage; continuing her hunt from the safety of the forest. The male Arcana, being the wiser of the two, had kept to his path, hidden from sight by the many trees that surrounded him.

A moment's search finally payed off and the shadow that had fled from the forest was found again; huddled into a ball, hidden in the shadows of the city. A woman was revealed upon closer examination; ragged and unkempt. The perfect target for 'conversion'. The demon approached from the deeper side of the shadows, her tail still curled around the remains of the other woman's snack. Azalie closed in without a single word, only her usual, vexing smirk lay across her fair complexion. This pitiful sight was somehow enticing to her; pulling her closer and closer to the mysterious woman.

[Anonymous]

'Leave me alone!' he yelled, half sobbing.

Vivian scurried forward, occasionally tripping and trying to move on hands and knees. Why were the mordacai after him again? Hadn't he already proven he was harmless? He'd proven that he didn't drink human blood, proven that he couldn't use magic, he'd even proven he was too weak to fight.

You are shameful, a true Aswang would never flee from humans.
Please, not now. I can't fight with you.
Which is why you will turn and face those men.
They will kill me.
Better dying with pride than living in shame.
I live in shame already, I will not add murder to the tally.

He ran until he got to the outer wall, panting in effort. He was trapped, with his wings ripped there was very little he could do. He looked at the advancing men, then the wall. This section was in disrepair, if he was careful maybe he could climb up. He tried to find handholds and used his wings to help him up. If they couldn't help him fly they could at least they could give him some lift.

He managed to get himself to the top of the wall. It was a long way down, especially if he would be jumping rather than flying. The hieght made him feel slightly dizzy, that and the lack of blood. He held his breath and closed his eyes. This was going to hurt. He opened his wings and fell, plummetting and landing on a large, rocky creature. He managed to groan before he fainted into a bloody darkness.

OOC: feel free to tell me to rack off if he is not the type of vampire you're looking for.

[Lion]

[Actually, mdu_ntr, I think I reserved the spot for the male vampire since I asked Nightshade ahead of time.  I hadn't made a reply yet because my internet kicked out on the weekend, leaving me incapacitated and only recently started working today.  I don't know if you'll still want to stay, you could ask Nightshade but I just thought I'd let you know.  No offense meant.]

What, in the name of all that was sane and logical, was he doing within spitting distance of Mordecai country?  Of course danger presided everywhere one stepped but even being within a few hundred miles of Connlaothian borders was enough to make Dietrich feel ill-at-ease.  It was almost as though willingly grasping the hand that was about to snap your neck in two and saying, "Have at me!" with a smile and party favors.

What had compelled Cronus to send Dietrich out this far away from the coven anyways?  Dietrich, with a boiling, seething grimace forming on his smooth wan, face, was sure that the Pendragon had his bastardly reasons for doing so.  What was so important out here that couldn't be retrieved with a better equipped, better prepared team of his worthless lackeys?  Currently, he was in no position to fend off a troop of Connlaothians should they sense his inhuman presence for he had no weapons other than his hands and no armor other than the soft, cotton trousers, fine riding boots, pleated shirt, and lengthy leather frock coat that hung on his stalwart frame.

Given such circumstances made Dietrich suddenly suspicious as to his lord's motives.  Never, not even when he was first escorted by Cronus' mate, Bellona, to the coven grounds (otherwise Cronus' home), was he liked by the stubborn-as-stone Pendragon.  It took all of Bellona's pleading to get him accepted and even that didn't seem to subdue the animosity and contempt he held for Dietrich.  The neonate was the epitome of chaos in the 3,000 year old vampire's eyes, the one who would destroy all he had built due to his rebelliousness and inability to be perfectly obedient to his new lord.  And, as proper consequence, Dietrich detested him with all the hatred a vampire was capable of.  There was no telling what Cronus would do to dispose of Dietrich, but then again he had always suspected conspiracy against him; Cronus never liked him and the feelings were gladly reciprocated.

But wandering around in this forest was beginning to get to the half-millenia old vampire's head.  It seemed endless, monotonous trees and brisk, early morning moonlight.  He was so far away from Beniste Castle, an old stone estate that resided in the southern part of the Terrin Mountains.  He could quite possibly contact Remilius, a dark elf with barbaric lineage who was his valet, head of household and had a knack for necromancy, and get him to transport him back to the castle via his dark magic but he didn't know how well such actions would work in this nullified countryside.

Just as his wandering was becoming almost dizzying, something impacted his senses, causing him to turn his head too and fro.  A thick, dusky cloud passed over the moon just as the smell of 'dirty magic' flowed into his nostril, making him wince at the strange sent.  It smelled like roasting hair and flesh all at the same time.  The only word Dietrich could put to it at this spur of the moment was: Demonic.  True, though he was something of a demon himself, he had never truly encountered a demon fresh out of the Netherrealms.  Then a compounding question struck him like hot iron, "What was a demon doing out here in Mordecai country?"  Answering that question would be hypocrisy, he knew for not even he could answer the reasons for his own purpose here.

Suddenly, he began to get the new sense of another being in the area.  This time far different from the previous area.  This being, it seemed, was very new, almost neonate but not quite.  He assessed the presence more closely as it became stronger, knowing he was getting closer to its source.  Finally only one conclusion came to mind: Another vampire!  His mentality was abrupt with alarm as he eyed a small, seemingly crouched, mysterious figure near the gates of city.  "Vampire, indeed," he whispered to himself with a hint of a grin appearing on his deadened lips.

[Anonymous]

((mdu_ntr, aye tis true that Lion has filled up that place, however you are more than welcome to stay if you wish! And lovely posts, guys!))

To her newborn senses, it was as if the night had suddenly brought forth a tumultuous bellow of dark creatures. The tingle of dark, forbidden magic, reached her nostrils and caused her to recoil before she realised that no harm had come to her. Exotic, yet dangerously alluring, once the initial reflex had been thrown off. She felt herself drawn to these scents, even the faint taste of decay that spoke insidiously, with a low sultry hiss in her ear of vampire. A foreign hiss escaped her own lips, which came as much from her own body as from the night air around her.

Still crouched against the wall, Juliette peeped from the curtain of her straggling hair. Her eyes darted here and there, trying to distinguish the other magical beings whom she'd sensed. A low guttural wail issued from her throat as her eyes failed her once again – all she could make out were the two guards, and the dim outlines of the silhouetted forest from whence she'd came. The transition between human and vampire was more than unbearable in some cases, even more so if one didn't understand what was happening to them.

Juliette had no idea of the low magic tolerance here; if she was capable of complex thought at all - that would come with time once her body accepted her new fate – then perhaps she would formulate the theory that whoever had kidnapped her and turned her had simply dumped her here, trusting that she would be disposed off by the soldiers...or by the sun if she remained this witless.

Intelligence had never been a great asset to her when she was human; now she was reduced to nothing but an animal. A hungry one, at that. The monster swelled within, seeking for an outlet, as the molten lava rock does within a volcano.

Her mouth felt dry as her tongue scratched the roof of her mouth. The cat had done little to satiate her thirst, which was a thirst like no other she'd ever felt before. That, she knew.

It was a bit like the pain of inoculations, or of the time when dim remembrances of an invisible foe came to mind – the plague – and the needles she vividly pictured invading her bloodstream. The pain of having her own blood withdrawn, of being able to focus on nothing else but this, as her own precious serum had been taken to placate some other sufferer was the first memory that came back to her. With it, right now, came a flash of burning anger at having the blood of her very own body stolen. The injustice she felt, and directed silently at the two guards.

A tiny smile twitched at her lips, as unconsciously, her brain slowly began to become chaos in motion. She placed an arm against the rough wall, and used it to lever herself into an upright position. Movement was still an issue; she lost her balance and scratched her arm against the stone wall. Almost without realising it, she was sucking on the scratch wound, but shook her head violently.

No. The payoff later would be greater. On some higher level, her mind definitely was working, But there was still some transmission problems to her conscious, which was still encased in a grey veil. Anyhow, the slumping stumble towards the city gates did attract the guards' attention.

"Holy Mordecai," one of them breathed, running over to the girl with the deadpan brown eyes and dirty matted hair.

He was followed by the other guard, a shorter stockier man. The first guard lowered his spear and cupped Juliette's chin in his hand, tilting her head from side to side.

"Another victim," he said in a subdued voice.

At that, Juliette's eyes flashed briefly. Somehow, she objected to that, but no matter.

"What do we do?"

"Has she been fully turned yet?"

"I dunno, I dunno. I want to go get the priest."

"No! They'll kill her on sight. She may just be an innocent. It may just be an animal attack."

"Holy...she only looks sixteen or seventeen."

Bored of the banter, Juliette let the men examine her for a few more minutes before, with inhuman strength, she grabbed one of them and hurled him into the other man, sending them both crashing to the ground. Before the one on top had time to respond, Juliette had snapped his neck. The other man had passed out, so he wasn't a bother to her whilst she fed. The only sounds that broke the silence were the groans of the other man, and Juliette's messy slurping, as she fed on the first man's neck with all the vigour of a newborn.

[Anonymous]

Because of the nature of his body, Ophicus felt only a slight brush against himself as a strange character crashed upon him; bouncing off and collapsing to the ground below. What strange place this land of the 'magic haters' was; where odd creatures fell from the sky. This particular one was not in the best of shapes however; ripped wings and plenty of scars made that rather obvious. Another magic creature perhaps? What remained of the man's wings made that evident; he was a clear target for the army.

"Hey, wake up." An extremely deep, grumbling voice gave way as the massive golem crouched to reach the fallen man. It was plain to see that the lad needed help and Ophicus, unlike Azalie, wasn't the type to abandon someone in need. A powerful hand reached out to shake the stranger awake; wile the action was meant to be gentle, the Arcana's strength was more than impressive so even that could feel as a rough tumble to anyone not used to dealing with it.

Meanwhile, further away, the female Arcana followed the vampire girl; still hidden in the shadows. The cat had been disposed of now, noting that the woman had found herself something tastier to feast upon. How exciting it was. The sight of flowing blood always triggered a wild response from the demon. Much like a powerful aphrodisiac, it called to her, making the woman unable to turn away; her gaze set upon the feeding frenzy, a feeling of arousal overcame the demon as she closed the distance between herself and the ragged woman.

Unable to contain herself, Azalie's tail lashed out, as if with a mind of it's own, towards the guard that was still alive; the deadly, sharp edge aimed at his throat. Turning the mortal's jugular into a beautiful fountain would be most enjoyable for the self-proclaimed goddess. The demon now stood only paces behind the vampire, enjoying her time too much to detect the presence of other creatures in the area. Still no words were spoken, but her enjoyment of the situation was more than evident on the Arcana's twisted grin.

[Anonymous]

Vivian, woke to the sight of a ...golum... shaking him. The movement was hurting his wings terribly. He had encountered golums before, they were known for their strength and ability to cause pain, as well as being overly loyal. He cowered, thinking the Mordacai had sent it to catch him. It broke the small amount of reserve he had left, he began to cry.

'I swear, I've never d-d-drained anyone in my life. I told you, I o-only drink animal blurd (blood). Look at me, do you think I would be think weak if I drank humans?'

He struggled weakly, gave up and hang loosely in the golum's arms. His body faded into his normal self. He was a tall lanky man with a red scarf and long, black cloak, now tattered like his wings and covered in blood: his blood.

If he had looked up now, he would have salivated at the sight of human blood, but at the moment he was far too preocupied with the golum.

[Lion]

Of course, Dietrich paid little heed to the sights and sounds that would deter him in his focus of the female that emerged from the darkness of the wood.  It was a narrow clearing in which led to the entrance of the city, covered only by dense, hardened soil and the thick undergrowth that crowned it like royalty.  It was as if the ground had tightened on purpose, rebelliously refusing anything of water; thus appearing dried and aged.  The wood was somewhat thickened around the clearing, carpeted in unruly foliage, myriads of treacherous footpaths, and towering trees that reached for the moon as if wanting salvation.

Dietrich stuck to the shadows, ducking his tall form beside a tree and crouching as low as possible in the dewy foliage as to avoid detection.  His senses spiked as he detected the the heightened presence of what he had previously referred to as 'dirty magic.'  It seemed unusually potent where he was and it was beginning to sink it that the presence was much closer than he thought.  Abruptly it occurred to him that the scent of the demonic energy was flailing erratically from two different directions: one that much closer to the clearing and another that not too far from it.  Forcing the scents out of his nostrils in disgust, a grimace graced his features just moments before he resumed his vigilance of the female that emerged into the clearing.

He watched the scene play out between the guards and the female with keen interest.  Dietrich couldn't help but whisper to himself as he witnessed the female quickly incapacitate the guards and sink her fangs into one, "Hm, a youngling, no doubt."  He noted on the way she had so carelessly revealed herself and fed without reservation, as if she had been starving for weeks.  But he understood her actions as a newborn, the hunger ofttimes consumed the self more than it did the victim.  But he could also see that she was messy and poor in technique, driven on only by instinct and, while this was entirely acceptable, he found that there was no art in her methods.  Perhaps, seeing that she was a youngling, he could teach her, in a sense, to become a better vampire.  After all, would it not be the logical thing to do to pass down skills in survival from one generation to another?

Could this possibly be what Cronus was looking for? the thought graced the sable landscape of his mind, obscuring his focus if only for moment. Well, I don't know why he would want something like her, if she indeed be what he seeks.  She's not much to look at.  It was only then that another creature was summoned from the shelter of the wood and waltzed audaciously into the clearing.  This one did not resemble the youngling he had been watching feed but was rather more attractive, bore wings and--a tail?  Screwing his face in bewilderment, he gazed with morbid fascination as the end of this second female's tail struck hard and deep into the throat of an incapacitated guard.

The fountain of blood that resulted made him smile maliciously as he did when watching varying acts of violence.  He bared his fangs in his dark grin, hidden not far from the clearings edge.  In an attempt to suppress his instincts, he clenched his jaw hard and caused his jaw muscles to protrude.  The sight of blood brought back the killing nature in him, he thought he might enjoy a good slaughter and drink of the blood, regardless of its origins be that human or other vampire.  He simply couldn't help it; slaughtering that which deserved death gave him a certain rush that could not be achieved through other actions; it excited him.  Yet he fought to remember his duty: to retrieve that which Cronus had sent him to retrieve, no more no less.  And while he hated him with every ounce of energy his atoms could muster, he did not want to anger him, especially now when Cronus seemed to be constantly on edge.  It would be unwise to make such a decision that would endanger his being.

Gripping the edge of the tree in suppressed frustration, he was beginning to feel like a caged animal who could not submit to its will.  But for now he must watch the movements of this youngling; watch and wait.

[Anonymous]

Whilst she was in the process of draining the man, Juliette suddenly stiffened, back straight as a board. The hairs were prickling on the back of her neck, and an eerie sensation of being watched was filtering through her mind, icy cold as if someone was trickling super-cooled water slowly, ever so slowly down her spine. Juliette dropped the man, letting his body thud to the ground. His eyes were glazed, reflecting the starlight of the dark skies, and blood was still leaking from his torn and jagged throat. He was nowhere near drained; far from it, but her attention had been drawn to a presence startlingly close by.

Juliette hugged her hands to her sides, shivering slightly in the wake of the prickling sensations. Frowning, she struggled to think, but everything seemed so slow, so languid. Even formulating ideas about her own feelings proved to be so far removed from her, that she simply stamped her foot in frustration, inhaling deep breaths of the still night air. All she could think of was the blood; the thick, warm liquid that had tasted ever so good. Already her body was craving more, but first...that other unsettling presence...

She took an unsteady step forwards, over the prone body of the guard, and whirled around, both hands gripping the hem of her dress. Juliette's face was pale with fright on beholding a creature who seemed to be of similar build to the two guards, but...different. More enhanced.

Demon, Juliette mouthed, silently to herself.

Her eyes drank in the demon, taking in the devilish wings, tipped with bone, and the pearly horns that crowned her head. Scantily clad, her pale skin gleamed almost as much as her horns. The image appealed aesthetically to Juliette. The demon's bone tail swished from side to side, as she fed, producing slow, lazy movements that captivated Juliette, but not as much so, as the fountain of blood spurting from the other guard's neck.

"Want!" With a guttural cry, Juliette launched herself at the other man's neck, focused only upon the blood, that beautiful life force which powered her very own body. The other demon had been forgotten.

((Bwahaha, feel free to knock/shove/throw her aside! XD))

[Anonymous]

"You... are strange." The same monotonous grumble, that was the golem's voice, called down to the vampire. A most odd man indeed. Ophicus had no idea what he was going on about, nor did he particularly care; the man appeared to be injured and that was the important thing to the Arcana.

"Calm down boy, I won't hurt you." Removing his massive hand from the bloke, the giant stood up to his full height once again; the heavy, wooden coffin strapped to his back appearing as no hindrance whatsoever. Of course, the simple, undecorated box was full; housing a 'spare' body for the demoness in case tragedy struck unexpectedly. The coffin however, seemed more appropriate for the stranger, who was bloodied from head to toe; his clothing as tattered as the wings he sported. It was obvious now that this creature was of the undead variety, still, the golem could have sworn the guy looked more like a dead corpse than the body he carried in the coffin.

"Who did this to you?" This was definately not Azalie's work; had it been the man would not be cringing in fear as much as being turned into some kind of bloody 'art work'. Of course, that would be if he refused to revere the vixen as the goddess she claimed to be. Lucky for the vampire, the woman was busy elsewhere.

An odd fascination overcame the demon as she watched her potential follower pounce from corpse to corpse like some kind of starved animal.

An average vampire's way of killing always seemed to leave something to be desired. They were all so 'proper' in their ways, claiming all the blood as their own for sustenance. A strange concept for her, who needed no such thing as food. This girl however, was different from the rest; messy and unrestrained, she possessed the twisted beauty that her 'more experienced' counterparts had lost at some point. Perhaps, if taught properly, this lass would be one of the few in the Arcana's eyes who were more fun alive than dead. A follower truly worth keeping was a rare find and this one seemed to have a lot of potential.

Enjoying the sight, Azalie brought the blood covered 'blade' of her tail to her lips; at which point she proceeded to lick the blood off of it. The coppery taste made the woman's mouth tingle in excitement, but she would have to keep control of her senses for now. It was a better idea to let her newfound treasure feed first, that way she would not starve to death while they traveled to a suitable town to feed her again; as that would be most disappointing.

With the pleasure of cleaning her tail now behind her, the demon turned her attention back on the vampire girl. How cute she looked. The skeletal structure that had slain the guard found its way swiftly towards the feeding gal and, as if with a mind of its own, began to snake about the vampire's body. A gentle caress as the tail slowly coiled itself around her.

[Anonymous]

Vivian sawyed as he tried to stand on his own too feet. He did not want to faint again incase the Mordacai cam eout. He inhaled a deep, shudding breath. He was still mortified by his ordeal with the Mordacai but he felt this golum could be trusted. Most golums were. He heard not what the golum said at first, only his last question.
'Mother, Mordacai.'
Both words induced fear but he tried not to show it. He was not near his mother now, nor would he ever be. He was free.

He looked around the scene. There were three vampiric creatures in the open area. One was feeding on a soldier and the other two were watching with interest. He curled instinctively into the golum, these were not like him. They were like his mother, draining the blurd (blood) of innocent humans. He clenched his fists, 'they should not be doing that.'
The smell of the blurd wafted on the breeze and he fell to his knees. He had only drained a few dogs in the past month and the smell was taunting him. He needed food and he needed it now. He forced himself to remain still, even though his fangs were already beginning to protrude further from his gums.

'Help me,' he whispered to the golum, 'I don't want to drink it.'
He felt very ashamed. He was an Aswang, self-proclaimed greatest race of vampires. He should not be cowering in fear at the sight of blurd.

No, you should not. Go over there and drain that girl's prey.
Please, no.
Do it, NOW.
The allure was getting too strong and he began to crawl towards the soldiers.

[Lion]

It something that he learned from hard experience, especially in the early years of his existence in which his survival was forced upon him.  Memories of himself wandering in search of a home and always being able to rely upon it should the need arise.  The ability to sense others of his kin.  It may not sound like much to the bare ear, but such an ability was innate in all vampires, whether they knew it or not and manifested only when needed.  Such a sense allowed for a vampire to sense friend or fiend and even 'feel' when danger would arise, though this particular aspect was extremely rare.

For reasons unknown, Dietrich abruptly felt his senses ignite with alarm as the feminine demon made an approach on the youngling.  It was compelling and repellent both entirely in the same for it was entirely against Dietrich's nature to want to help others; he was selfish and there wasn't a smidgen of a chance in altering this.  Yet the base instincts that laid the foundation for the character of a vampire to develop remained, and glowed in exigency.  He sensed a certain malevolence in the demon that approached her and he did not like it a bit.  He felt that her presence threatened the youngling, his mission and in turn would cause Cronus' iron fist to slam down upon him should he fail.  He could not fail.  He would not fail.

Answering the call of alarm, Dietrich to full length, tall and lean, and stepped quietly from the underbrush and dusk of the forest.  It was like a shadow had transformed into a corporeal being, so darkly laden was his garb, and emerged from the night like a ghost through mist.  It was now that his presence was at its strongest and though he had not yet appeared into the clearing, he was sure the youngling might be able to detect him.  Such a sense to detect one's own kind often acted of its own volition.  He hoped by compounding his alarm and feelings into one shock wave of emotion he might be able to contact the youngling, but there still remained the fact that she was a newborn and might not recognize it.  Still he clung to whatever hope remained.

In stepping into the clearing, Dietrich's voice was profound and resonant in the small area.  "Step away.  She's mine," he said sternly yet with all the collected calm he had always maintained.  His jaw remained clenched and his eyes fixated darkly on the demon.

[Anonymous]

Juliette used a hand to lift her dark tresses from her eyes, whilst she fed, so she could have an unobstructed view of her prey. Close up and personal, as if to savour the sight of the man's lolling head and vacant expression. An emotion of sheer joy welled up within her being, delight in having this control of him even though his soul had departed. Her other hand had his body in an iron grip, and as she tightened her fingers, his skin moulded to the shape of her fingertips, reduced to mere putty. Oh, how luxurious and dark this was, to give into your senses.

If she were in her right state of mind, Juliette would've been absolutely horrified, but she wasn't the girl she once was anymore. No, the dark blood flowed through her veins, transforming her this very minute, this second even. The broken human toy no longer existed. Discarded once broken, she had resumed a life of her own, taking on the same darkness as the one who had kidnapped her and transformed her against her own will.

Almost satisfied, she'd completely forgotten about the other demoness, until she felt a light pressure about her body. It was a soft, gentle pressure that skimmed her calves and sent tingles down her spine, causing her to pause in her feeding. Juliette closed her eyes and shivered in response, and if she had been a cat, she would've purred. The tickling feeling snaked it's way higher, until it was around her waist, whereupon she felt it begin to tighten.

Juliette didn't quite feel so happy about that. At the same second, she felt a wave of something assault her senses. It wasn't anything she'd ever felt before, and that too frightened her. This something seemed to be pulses of feeling, emotions that she could taste upon the tip of her tongue, and were such a shock to her system that she used her arms to tear herself free from her restraint and with a ragged breath, spun round, eyes wide to find the demoness, whom she'd forgotten about, and another deathly pale being.

"Step away. She's mine."

She couldn't understand the words, but the tone had hints of a growl and darkness that she didn't like. Juliette looked from one being to another and sensed that there was going to be tension of some sort. Opening her mouth to reveal her fangs, she visibly shrank and hissed at them both. Glancing at one, and then the other one, she made eye contact with them both and suddenly broke off, darting in the worst possible direction: past the city gates, which were still open, straight into the city.

((Suspense!! XD))

[Anonymous]

Seeing as how the vampire was in pain, being pulled, as if not by his will to the bloody scene, the male Arcana quickly reached out to hold him in place. A vampire who refused to feed on it's most prominent target was a rare find. This man kept getting stranger by the minute.

"Hold on boy. You're right, they should not be doing that; and neither should you." The giant being grumbled, his hand reaching out for the smaller creature's neck and shoulders. Attempting to hold him back.

In the clearing, Azalie enjoyed watching her soon-to-be loyal follower. Her tail caressed the vampire girl with a gentleness seemingly impossible for the bone structure; acting as a way to show she meant no harm, yet as a restraint if any sudden movement was to take place. A flawless plan. And it was working, at least until a certain distraction sent the vampire into a fit and distracted the demon long enough to weaken her grasp on the girl.

It was a voice; that of a petty man. One who seemed to believe he could stand on equal footing with the devil herself. It came from behind the winged woman, echoing throughout the clearing. The words that would sound like a threat to most simply held a hint of amusement in the Arcana's ears. She turned slowly to face the newcomer. Nothing spectacular. The girl's ego spoke; the impish smirk from before becoming a full blown, malicious grin.

"Oh really?" No effort was made to hide the note of sarcasm which held its own veiled threat in reply to the stranger's. As far as Azalie was concerned, she had reached the girl first, thus entitled to claim her as her property. Not to mention she was a 'goddess', so the girl would be far happier with her than with this man. In the demoness' twisted mind, such word seemed so simple in comparison to her self-given title. But something seemed off...

Damn it! In her distraction, the 'cute' vampire girl had bolted; straight into 'hater' territory no less. Idiot. She'd have to follow now, but first she would have to deal with the pest at hand.

Turning back to the man, Azalie spoke with what could be described as an eerily cute tone. "Aww, now look what you've done; you made her run away." Standing between the new vampire and the city gates, she wasn't about to let him get through; not without some kind of punishment at least.

((mwahaha, trash talk FTW. Sorry Lion, but if you're dealing with Azalie you might wanna get used to it. ><))

[Anonymous]

He did not hear the Arcana's words, he was a creature of lust now and he lusted for blood. Tears flowed down his face as he struggled against the diamond golum, scratching at it. He bit it's arm and immediatly howled in pain. He had chipped a tooth.

'Must have blurd, feed me,' he snarled.

That's it our child, you are weak you need blood to survive. too long you have denied us, your ancestors.
Let me go, please. I don't want to drink their blurd.
You will obey us.
No. His last word was barely a whisper in his mind.

He bit the golum again and clawed at it to get closer. The creature must have some blood, all creatures had blood.

[Lion]

[No problem, Dietrich is used to such treatment.  I'm sure he'll manage somehow. ;]]

Dietrich was not one to be so easily moved by the slightest form of hostility, it had been something he had grown accustomed to since his rebirth.  He had always been the anomaly and black sheep of Cronus' coven since his entrance into it and the sneers and contemptuous remarks awarded to him on a silver platter were ones he was forced to accept.  He merely smiled darkly at the demoness' sarcastic remark shone his glinting teeth to her.  He was confident that he could handle anything she had to throw at him, it was not like he was a neonate any longer; he had acquired both exceptional skill and prowess.

It was, as a fact, that he thrived on animosity.  It often awarded him a chance to act upon it in revenge later on should he so choose, to prove himself far more than he appeared at first.  A small thought of tearing through the demoness brought on a faint satisfaction within Dietrich as he stared with his electric eyes lowered.  It was almost as if violence had become his creed.  But first he had to focus on the task at hand: retrieving the youngling and there was no doubt whatsoever on his intent.

But it seemed in his moment of straying away the youngling had vanished frantically within the gates of the city!  Dammit!  Foolish girl, she'll get herself killed! was the first and only thought to grace his mind in the realization of the matter.  He ignored the comment of the winged woman, she would only distract him further.  He hadn't the time nor the patience now to deal with her and yet, ironically, she was the only thing blocking his path between him and the youngling.

He made no movement to reply and instead covered his visage with a look of cold, dead determination, the same look he held when he had slain his first Pure and reveled draining the poor bastard dry.  Ha, and all because of some snide remark as well....  Immediately his mind began to quickly assess the possibilities of this situation, what might he do and how rapidly he would be able to do it in.  He could, quite possibly attempt to engage this demon in close combat, perhaps in punishment, death or incapacitation.  She was the one, after all, that caused the girl to flee.  The stink of demon magic was almost intolerable.  The alternate option would be to avoid battle altogether and attempt to evade her movements.

Dietrich chose the latter; first things first: get the youngling.  He grinned wryly at her comment and flashed his animal canines briefly.  In an effort faster than a flash, he contracted all his muscles, especially those in his legs and, before one could see with the naked eye, he launched himself into the air.  He vaulted himself some twenty feet above the demoness and somersaulted expertly over the city walls in a grandiose fashion.  Upon landing from his sudden catapult, Dietrich did not pause for a moment to regard the now sleeping residence of the town and ran haphazardly down a darkened street.  He could feel the youngling's presence, she could not have gotten far.

[Anonymous]

As Juliette ran down the darkening streets, she caught snippets of conversation from open doors, murmuring voices, all mingling and blurring into one huge mush in her mind. The hearty laughter and warm light from many taverns spilled out into the street, but for the most part, the avenues were fairly deserted. No one took any notice of a scruffy looking orphan who tore past them, and it was much too dark to see just how pale Juliette really was, or to catch the snippets of blood that still clung to her garments.

Huff, huff! Her panting breaths came at regular intervals as she made her way doggedly in the same direction, not knowing where she was going at all.

"Hey up there, miss!"

"...an' I was sayin', if that son of a bitch don't learn no manners then that's it--"

"Tank up guys, drinks are on me."

"Dad, why won't you let me go?"

"Naw, who says I cheated!?!?"

Voices and voices, and more voices, bubbling and mixing and mingling in a cauldron. Going round and round and round and round and...

Juliette skidded to a stop, clutching her head. Unable to take it anymore, she leaned against a wall of a shopkeeper, and slid to the ground, staring blankly at the tavern opposite her. The sign read, "The Three Hounds", and grotesque shadows were thrown across the ground, from the figures moving around inside the world that she no longer belonged to. The latticed windows were the bars to her prison, separating her from the life she could've led.

Juliette exhaled deeply, and this time she closed her eyes, listening to all the snippets of conversation, wishing it would make sense to her. Why would this irritate her so much, unless it was important to her?

"Come on dear, time to go home."

Home.

"Home," Juliette said out loud, mimicking the word by forming the sound with her mouth.

The word home, meant something to her. It invoked an image of a thatched cottage, with a roaring fire, and white chinaware. It invoked an image of the outskirts of a forest, and of smiling faces, and childish laughter. However, the images of the faces were fuzzy and indistinct, and a sad tear slid down her cheek although she did not really know why. Only that, she felt sad because she couldn't see the faces.

"Why can't I see home?" She hugged her knees close to her body, and stared moodily at the cobblestones. The mist before her brain was beginning to clear; the voices were forming vague meanings in her mind. But nothing clear. And the word home was nagging at her, driving her to her feet, and towards the door of "The Three Hounds".

She pushed it open, in the way she'd seen others do when entering and leaving. The wooden door yielded to her touch and swung open with little resistance, for it was extremely well used. Juliette stopped, and blinked, allowing her eyes to readjust to the harsh brightness. Moving her long waves of hair away from her face, she peered around, taking in the small circular tables, the rectangular bar at the back with bottles upon bottle, and then, all the staring faces. They all looked like those two men who didn't move anymore.

Taking a tentative step forwards, she moved unsteadily towards the back of the bar, to the bartender. The only thing that had distinguished him from the others was that he was the only person stood up, therefore the tallest. The others had sat down in shock at this pale, bloodstained girl.

At the bar, Juliette attempted to speak, but the words caught in her throat, the only noise that broke the stunned silence. After her third try, she swallowed, and this time, the words flowed.

"W-where you tell me...can you tell me, home is, please thankyou?"

The bartender just stood there, unable to comprehend, and the only thing he did do was to pour her a vodka shot, without taking his eyes from her face. Juliette held the sparkling shot up the light.

This wasn't home.

She locked eyes with the bartender, who made a drinking motion. After sniffing the drink, Juliette downed it, and a warm fire spread down her throat. In all this time, the whole tavern was still watching her, not sure how to react. But they would do soon enough; once they got over the shock, once they realised she wasn't alive anymore.

[Anonymous]

Unfortunately for the ragged vampire, the golem did not possess the life liquid that he so desired; or claimed to want at the moment anyway. Regardless of whether Ophicus did or did not have it, the young man would still have to get past the giant's diamond armor. Not something easily accomplished; the vampire receiving proof of it in his failed attempt to bite the Arcana.

"Get a hold of yourself boy." Ophicus, assuming this was what the tattered lad had asked him for help with, kept a firm hold on the vampire. Pressing his massive weight upon the man to keep him in place; but not enough to crush him. A firm eye was kept on his female partner; if Mordecai were truly near by she would be in grave danger.

The vixen herself was rather disappointed. That was pathetic! That man had mustered up the nerve to threaten her, only to turn tail and run just as quickly as he had shown up. Men were just not made with big enough balls now a days. Turning her sight back towards the city, Azalie opted not to follow after the vampire girl so recklessly. Of course she was totally vicious and had an unhealthy urge to cause massive amounts of death, but even she had enough common sense to not rush into the hands of her enemies.

Instead, the woman called upon her dark magic; summoning around her dozens of what was best described as dark fireflies. They emitted a murky, purple glow, making the tiny beings virtually invisible in the night sky. Another nasty smirk was their cue to head off and they all darted in different directions towards the city; their sight linked to that of their summoner. Ingenuity was the devil's game and is it's physical representation Azalie surely had no lack of it. She would allow the vampire to recover the creature he had made her lose only to repossess it later on; after all, the light of day would place a heavy slump on whatever that coward had planned.

While in a magic-using mood, the gal also played with a bit of necromancy, waking up the two guards with orders of killing any mortal that neared the gate. The plan was a distraction to deal with Mordecai while she hunted down the runaway vampires.

Her work now finished, Azalie headed back towards the woods and her partner. Noting that he was holding on to another creature she couldn't help but wonder.

"Whatever is that... thing?"