1 x 1 Vampire RP (Post in response to initial to begin the RP).

[Kartha Rolein]

OOC Note: Only one person may partake. This is One on One. I have no gender preference for your character. Read the full post, and please post only if you intend to partake of this story for a good while. Mid - advanced RPer's strongly preferred. I'm not too picky on typos. We are only human.

Vampire RP

The door to the room opened slowly as a figure dressed in loose clothing walked inside. The dark shadows the details of her appearance save for the gender; a female. The windows are open with the nights air flowing in from the soft gusts which pass through the buildings at this level of height. A fog continues rolling in across the streets below leaving the vehicles which drive down the streets flickering like stars in a white sky like ground.

The figure approaches a desk at the far left corner of the room. The figure takes a seat in the chair, looking to the computer screen currently blackened. The desk has a couple folders upon it, filed with tabbed notations. She takes a moment to skim through them, seeing if what she is after is within the pages. Unsatisfied, she switches on the computer allowing light to filter upon her figure.

She has slightly tanned skin with a small scar upon her left cheek below her eye about an inch in length in a diagonal angle curving over her cheekbone. Mid-length red hair is draped down her back in a loose pony tail. She is dressed in a tight suit with a black leather jacket bearing green trim and a small amount of silver decorum.

The light of the computer screen shown out as the system boots up. She looks around a moment, attempting to see if anyone is watching her. Her eyes return to the screen, tapping lightly upon the flattened keyboard attempting to access files. The computer responds as it should as a result of her actions. She reaches to her left jacket pocket, taking out a small device and connects it to the tower of the computer.

Suddenly a gust of wind wafts through the opened windows. She stands quickly, drawing a magnum from under the left side of her jacket. She moves around the desk, leaving the computer to finish downloading the files. She looks about with caution, attempting to ascertain if there is any threat present. Startled, she takes time investigating the room. She approaches the door first, looking through the peep hole. The hall is empty. She then walks to the windows, peering out. She aims quickly as the glances to the sides checking the ledges. There is nothing present.

As she turns around, eyes appear in the darkness before her with a white toothed grin shadowed in a blackened mist seeming to blend with the overall darkness of the room. The eyes, white as milk with singular dark pupils in the middle, look upon her with malice. The woman fires out of a mixture of shock. Right as she pulls a trigger she feels a momentary pressure rise up against the base of the gun but for only the slightest moment. The gun doesn't go off.

She takes notice that the gun feels lighter, glancing at it. The front half has been cut at an angle along the width of the weapon as though sliced by an extremely durable and sharpened blade. The bullet, or at least half of it, rests in the chamber end of the half she is holding. She drops it, looking quickly around her, now panicking.

"Wh-what the h-hell are y-you?" She speaks in a startled tone of voice. She reaches to her waist grasping a rather long knife, attempting to revert to defense rather than offense, but to no avail. As she raises the dagger it too would be sliced in half. Her eyes would flit, shifting a little in fear as she looks to the handle no longer bearing a blade.

She would scream, throwing the dagger handle into the darkness out of frustration and dread, rushing to the door no longer caring for her task she had been set out to complete. Before she reaches the door, the unknown assailant within the hollowness of the room grasps at her waist, pulling her back. The slightest hint of fangs glistened in the dark a moment before vanishing as the curvature of the lips met the woman's neck.

She screams again, shifting in place unable to move. She struggles a moment but is soon silenced as some form of darkness wraps around her mouth closing off her ability to breath and make noise. It would be mere moments before the woman's' body becomes limp and lifeless. The creature in the dark turns, hurling the body out of the window to land in the alley below where her death would be unexplained.

The figure reforms enough in the darkness to be visible and solid; another female bodice in the gloom which moves to the computer. This figure reaches to the front of the computer, her slightly grey like flesh appearing in the light of the screen. The device in the computer tower is torn free, ending the program running through the system.

"Foolish mortals, always think themselves so clever." She crushes the device in her hand then tosses it out the window as well. A brief silhouette of a small blade darks through the darkness , striking the switch on the wall. The lights in the room switch on, illuminating the room in full. It looks to be a hotel room of some sort, though without the services or quality of such an establishment.

She takes a seat in the chair before the computer. With the lights in full bloom, her feminine features are all too apparent. Long black hair is draped down her back to just above the curvature of her rear. She wears a leather outfit which shows off her features quite flawlessly. Her bosom, well covered yet revealed partially through slatted dashes of exposed points, is average same as the rest of her body. She is taller than normal, standing at around 6' 3". her eyes, before merely mist with focused pupils of black now bear as silver and hollow as though soulless.

She proceeds to access the computer, awaiting the return of her new assistant sent to help her in this city. With her arrival, the prince who, understandably, found the idea of an Assamite being within his jurisdiction to be quite unsettling, had been determined to ensure that she was observed and assisted in any tasks. She'd made her intentions quite clear to him. She had no desire to cause chaos or stir trouble. She had come seeking employment opportunities, which she seemed sure to find in a city such as this.

[Major Ursa]

“Yes, right away.” Rick hung up and smiled to the vampiress seated beside him in the vehicle, before returning his gaze to the streets ahead of him as he drove on. The vampiress merely shook her head and continued to stare out the window. If Rick hadn’t been talking into his hand, pinkie and thumb out like a telephone for thirty minutes, you probably wouldn’t have thought him to be a Malkavian.

The Malkavian driving had a grey business suit on, his dark hair slicked back professionally with his eyes peering out at the road from behind sharp rimless specs. Not a hair out of place, his shirt was tucked in, his tie was pinned down straight and proper, and his wristwatch even had the time exact by the second.

The vampiress checked her own watch before leaning over slightly to point out a building, “The Prince wanted you to go over to that building over there.” Rick ignored her and kept on driving, “Hey! We have to stop and turn around!” But before long he was already more that a few blocks away, and instead parked out in front of his apartment building.

Getting out of the car, the vampiress grabbed onto his wrist, “We have to go back!”

The Malkavian merely stared down at her rather coolly, “And why should I listen to you? You don’t even exist.”

“You 'kay, sir?” Rick spun around to find a hobo looking over at him curiously, “You…you talkin' to yo'self, sir?” “I’m fine.” Rick reached into his pocket and pulled out an orange ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ Monopoly playing card, pushing it into the hobo’s hands carefully before proceeding into the apartment building. In the lobby he approached the open elevator, leaving a few seconds later after pressing all the floor buttons, instead ascending all twenty floor via stairway.

Eventually, he made it to his apartment. Unlocking the door and opening up, he stared through the forest of carefully installed poles and up at his living space. Coat rack on the ceiling, shelf on the ceiling, coffee table and couch on the ceiling. TV, floor lamp, bookshelf, kitchen counters, stove, fridge, table and newspaper on it, coins spilled out (and glued) onto the table…all upside-down on the ceiling. All the electrical and plumbing had been expensively renovated to be upside-down as well.

Hanging up his jacket on the hanging coat rack, and tiptoeing to place his shoes in the closet, he walked over to the poles installed directly beside and in front of the couch and television. Rick grabbed one pole with one hand and coiled his leg around the other, and rather smoothly and in a practised manner, he climbed and flipped upside-down himself on the poles to ‘seat’ himself onto his couch. He stuck his hand into the cushions of the seat to pull out the remote and turn on the television, setting the remote back onto the couch, he paid no mind when gravity struck and it clattered over him and onto the ground. Reaching around to the side of the couch, he pulled out the machete only he could see, running a hand over it as he stared over at the loud blaring whitenoise with interest.

[Kartha Rolein]

The woman tilts her head up a moment, looking to the window. Her eyes narrow slightly, as though curiosity befell her thoughts. ‘Interesting this assistant has not arrived as of yet. If the prince dare attempts to spy upon an assassin then perhaps his lordship may find himself replaced.’ She looks back to the computer, typing quite rapidly upon the flat keys. Documents and program dart around upon the screen. After a moment she grabs a small bit of paper and copies some information down.

The paper is slipped down the front of her upper garment, nestled securely within her bosom. She stands, switching the computer off before heading towards the door. The light switches off. She grasps the door handle then pauses. She turns her head a moment, looking back into the main area of the room for but a brief moment. With a slight twitch of her nose she turns her head around, leaving the room. The lock of the handle clicks as it is secured.

Elsewhere, within the home of the said assistant…

As the obviously insane Malkavian seemed to become comfortable, or at least this would be the best assumption one could make given the circumstances, a knock upon the door would come. Then another. Then a third. Each knock fell in paused succession to the previous tap upon the wooden entrance. There would be no other sound or otherwise to follow.

[Major Ursa]

The Malkavian on the ceiling bound seat turned to peer down at the door after hearing sound of three light knocks, paying no mind as gravity caused his glasses to slide and fall off his face. There weren’t many people who knew this address, the address to his actual apartment. Reaching up to slide his invisible machete ‘under’ the couch, he grabbed onto the pole with his arm and unhooking a leg, flipping and dropping down onto his feet…only then finally taking note of his glasses, once the sound of the glass cracking under his feet reached his ears. Rick…didn’t like having things on the floor of his apartment, but at the moment, it couldn’t be helped much. Fixing his hair and clothing a bit more, he opened a window then his washroom door, before stepping up to his front door and opening it a crack…
“Can I help you?”

[Kartha Rolein]

The hollow sound of nothing seemed to emanate from the other side of the door through the crack. Silence, to mortals, had no sound though for those of an alternative nature, it is as a quieted, hollow whisper. A figure in a fine garb of dark blue with black trim and as a hood of similar pattern stood in the dark. No lights in the hall are lit, providing the comforting dark this individual tends to prefer.

The individual would require no introduction to Rick. The figures head tilts up a little revealing the eyes of a hollow individual; a mask covers the lower half of the figures face, including his nose. The voice that passes from behind the cloth is riddled in mixture chatter and messages designed to be reconstructed in the mind of most Malkavians as normal speech. Given the frequent state of their insanity, normal speech could be easily misinterpreted or identified as unreal or non-existent.

“The eye of the prince follows all whom serve him. Think you different to believe yourself shielded from mine vision?” Vladerin spoke in a calm, emotionless voice that often catches even those of his own age off guard at times.

Elsewhere, travelling the streets of the city…

The Assamite continues down the street of downtown where the misfortunate, and lowly of the city masses often reside. A figure, not far off, walks with a cane and an old style top hat; frequently tipping it to any women he passes, including the whores attempting to sell their services as he passes.

He turns a corner after a half a mile walk, slipping around a corner light to head in the direction of one of the many parks in the city. The Assamite narrows her eyes slightly, taking a slow step back into a nearby alley. Her body dissipates bit by bit as she enters the added shadow until she fades from all sight.

[Major Ursa]

Rick tilted his head at what he believed to be an unreasonable stalker friend, cracking an odd smile before beginning, “What’s he doing with that other eye of his? Watching paint dry? As I recall, the only thing out Prince loves more than pestering the peasants is maintaining the masquerade, and in my defence that is what I’ve been doing! I just need confirmation that our new vampire buddy was going to be exactly where our Prince said they’d be.” As if on cue, there was a loud thump sound coming from the kitchen window. “Excuse me, I have to get down to business, just let Princey know I’ve got this.”

Not waiting for a reply, the Malkavian scrambled for the window, opening it to bright yellow canary hopping around disoriented. This was Joe #38, who began to whistle ‘London Bridge’…what did that mean again? Cat up tree? Old lady fall down a flight of stairs? Baby crawled onto street? One or more suspicious vampires? Gang war? Blood bank ran out? One of those, all of which were equally important.

Rolling back his sleeve and reaching an arm out, the canary hopped onto his wrist and began to tear into it, drinking his blood. As this went on, he walked into his bathroom, which was surprisingly right side up, and opened up the medicine cabinet. A hand gun, or a revolver? Crouched down and opening up the toilet lid and seat, he pulled out the water logged ammunition to examine them for a bit. Nothing. Brushing off Joe #38 from his arm, he pulled off the blanket from the bathtub, revealing a half dozen other canaries huddled up on another blanket…his preferred resting place during the day. Whipping this blanket out from under them, they took flight and shot off through the window, sensing his intention behind this.

Again going back to his living area, he reached up and pulled out his invisible machete. “Hmmm, mmm…”

-----

Two canaries sat up on the ledge of the building, intermixed with few random pigeons. Observing the female vampire then the male, flying up and joining a flock of other yellow birds, they followed loosely from high up before one separated from the group. This bird was Joe #23, the longest surviving of the Malkavian’s canary, he flew down and didn’t panic when the female vampire disappeared…just continued to observe on his lamppost perch.

[Kartha Rolein]

Vladerin turned as Rick moved from the door to proceed with his obvious mission. He left, having no further need to remain, and being one of those who required permission to access an establishment before entering, he could not simply follow Rick further into his home. Vladerin remained closed to the premises, though hidden from the sight of most that might pass by.

Elsewhere as the gentlemen continues to walk the city…

The park draws closer as the night weighs in. The moon, nearly full this night, held high in the air without disruption from the weather. The Assamite keeps her presence within the shadows, moving among the darkness as a mere cloud along the ground. Her presence remains silent as she keeps close enough to the one she is following to ensure she does not lose him.

The gentleman takes a turn at a corner crosswalk, heading straight to one of the entrances to the park. He pauses before walking under the archway of the entrance, glancing back across the way as though sensing something. His eyes are covered by glasses; an oddity given the time. His left hand rises, brushing the mustache nestled above his upper lip. He then resumes entering the park with a soft tap of his cane.

[Major Ursa]

Rick finally left his apartment building and got back into his car, unfortunately he was without his glasses…that means he was more vulnerable to ‘reality’s’ lies. Staring the engine, he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out…what do you know? Gloves. Pulling them on, he set his hands back on the steering wheel to find that it had become a snake. It hissed dangerously at him, wiggling slightly as if threatening to move out of position and bite him. Of course, as a Malkavian living in a Masquerade strict city, he learned to suppress his reaction and did not flinch at the sight of every unnatural sight. Squeezing the snake, he leaned forward and bit it…it was a steering wheel again, and for this, he was thankful. Finally beginning his drive down the dark streets, occasionally looking out the window to spot a Joe, usually #20-40. The birds were bringing him to wherever, this should be good.

-----

Joe #23 flew around the trees, eager to observe the strange man…and realised he had a moustache! As one of Rick’s many ghoul’s, he had given them a quick lesson on suspicious figures. ‘Moustache’ was right beside ‘Sombrero in a night club’. With this, the fluffy yellow bird actually swooped down and landed on the suspicious man’s shoulder, the best place to make observations.