William followed Evelyn in a daze, eyes narrowing at the fiesty one's reaction. While he was interested in the library, and wanted very much to grab his book- crap! It's still in the dining hall!- and curl up in a chair somewhere, the blood left an... interesting affect. He barely cared, or could think, beyond the insatiable urge for more blood. He plodded along after Evelyn, feeling oddly attached, or... something, to her. Maybe it was because he felt her as a better type to follow than Vanity? He couldn't be sure; his thinking was muddled. He followed along anyways, except he kept walking when they reached the hall. He didn't stop or look around, just walked to his previous chair, plopped down, and looked around. After a moment of half-focused gazing, he reached out, leaned forward, and grabbed another bowl. He gently pulled it over to him, ensuring none of it spilled, and then very hungrily, very deeply, had more of that crimson liquid.

As he let the bowl drop, and the edge was taken off of his bloodlust, he looked around and noticed a new person. He sat there, thinking on what this may mean for a moment, before pushing it aside. His stomach rumbled, possibly from too much blood too quickly, but he ignored it. He sat back, able to not crave blood so much, and relaxed. He leaned his head back, right in the middle of the tense atmosphere, and promptly fell asleep. Well, it looked like it, someone would have to poke him to find out if he was or not.

Evelyn’s eyes were drawn to a familiar voice. She gave a disapproving look and a small, barely heard tsk of her lips to see Mitchell coming in through the window. Why the window of all things? Did he think he was in one of those 50 pence romance novels where the men always come in through the window? How silly. And inappropriate decorum. Especially in front of the new ones. She didn’t care if he’d been a bat. One transformed before the door, and then entered. Simple.

”We have guests, Mitchell…” Evelyn started, but was interrupted by Angel coming in the dining hall behind her, throwing out questions. Evelyn frowned heavily, only to look and see the other girl had come back as well. Could they not be left alone for a minute in the day? She was not a babysitter. Ah, and of course, William came back too. Evelyn eyes glanced to Viorica who began getting huffy that the fledglings knew not their place and were interrupting their meeting. Evelyn quite agreed, and retiring to her room like the elder vampiress honestly sounded like a pleasant idea.

With a sigh, Evelyn rubbed one of her temples and looked to see William seemingly asleep, thirst apparently finally sated. She sighed, clearing the emotion on her face. ”Yes well… just leave him there,” she said quietly. ”If you all would excuse me…” she whispered, though the tone was unbearably chilly as she took a glass of blood and left the dining hall once more, headed for her room. As he heels tapped the cold floor, echoing about her and off the walls, a small smile was returned to her face as she pictured her room. A fireplace, a good book, cuddled up in a nightgown with a quilt. Ah, if only there weren’t the distinct chance she’d be interrupted…

Mitchell glanced up at the approaching fledglings, one, two, three of them in total. One seemed meek, but curious, another conflicted, and the third, simply thirsty. Standing straight, Mitch cleared his throat once more, grinning at Evelyn's quiet reactions.
"So we do..." he remarked, removing his hat and bowing to the ladies with a charming smile, "The things I miss when I venture..."
He interrupted his musings to entirely ignore Evelyn's advice and tap the sleeping newborn on the back of the head.
"Come on, up and at 'em." He then crossed the room to the two new women, taking one of their hands each and kissing them with that charming grin.
"Welcome to the family." He said with barely concealed excitement, the (much) taller vampire circling the dining table and returning with a glass for each girl, deciding that the boy was fine on his own.
"I guess this means I'm not the youngest anymore," he joked, then, realizing he was being rude, he introduced himself.
"My name is Mitchell, call me Mitch."

Anrah had to crane her neck up at the very, very tall man in front of her. Standing at a meager 5'2, she felt extremely small under the elder vampire's gaze. Anrah was sure that if she could still blush she would have as the elder vampire kissed her hand. Then he came back with another cup of blood for her and Angel and her addiction won out over her moment of being starstruck.

she took the goblet as politely as she could, trying not to seem rushed or eager. However, once that goblet was in her hands, the blood seem to have disappeared from it in mere seconds. The only indication that the liquid was in there in the first place was her tongue running along her upper lip, gathering every tiny bit of the Crimson liquid she could find.

"T-thank you..." Anrah stuttered, embarrassed at her lack of control. Mitch introduced himself and Anrah nodded as she filed the new name under things to remember.

"I'm Anrah." She answered before freezing, eyes going wide. "I - I mean..." Her eyes darted around the room and she noticed that while Evelyn was gone, as well as Viorica, but the other two elders, Christof and Mithias, we're still there. She sighed and looked at Mitch with her normal, guarded eyes back in place, and straightened her posture. "But I told everyone my name was Kaley because I didn't trust them." She stated bluntly, refusing to let any fear or regret seep into her strong, confident tone. "It seems like we'll be here for a while though, so you all should know my real name."

William popped up the moment finger touched Will, and replied, "I've either been up and at 'em for quite some time, or not at all. I have gotten a tiny sliver of memory of how I thought about my personality of some time in the past, and I shall reveal it all to you."

Doing a subconscious half-drunk-looking stance, which was an unconscious reference to Cap'n Jack Sparrow's stance, he said with emphasis, "I'm very weird, mate." He even had an accent that sounded quite close, though none would probably know it to relate it. Then he frowned, trying to remember why he had particularly liked it enough to just do it. Then he shrugged it off and went back to a normal standing position. Wiping some blood off with one sleeve, he refilled his cup, took a deep drink, and set it down.

"Now! Anrah, nice name, your hair is nice too, just unusual, you've drunk some blood, I suspect you'll be fine, but you!" He pointed to the other girl. "Angel, is it? I know a... I knew, but I can't remember it, ah, well. Anyways, Angel, if we are vampires, then you are going to die if you don't drink. This makes our clocks tick, so to speak, and I'd rather not have someone die in my presence, unless they are a horrible and vile person who wants to destroy the world." He looks around at all the occupants in the room, completely dispelling his own nervousness and anxiety by going on a roll, and continued, unhindered, interrupting any and all who tried to break in. "I don't think anyone here is a horrible and vile person who wishes to become Dr. Evil... where do I know that from..? Gah! I speak straight from the mind, say things I can't remember, so aggravating... anyways, I don't think anyone wants to take over the world, and so I don't suppose I shall call in dinosaurs to kidnap you and eat you. Angel, see, we're all very pretty. The Fates, or whoever makes the world go 'round, would hate to allow any of all our pretty faces to die, yeah? Drinking blood that was willingly shed from someone who is still alive is much better than eating a hamburger- a cow died to make that hamburger. So really, drinking this blood is much nicer and better for the world than eating a hamburger, because stuff still lives!" He raised his arms, raising his voice a little with the last part for emphasis.

Putting his arms down, he circles around his chair and walks forward, gently snatching one of the untouched cups from Mitch, and holding it out near Angel. "We all must drink. It has not poisoned me; I think clearer and faster than I ever have before. I feel alive, see, and no one died to make me feel this way. Please drink; no one here, I think, wishes you to starve."

He gave her the most charming smile he could manage, feeling fake while doing it, since he thinks his smiles just look horrible, and struggles with the unease of talking to a pretty girl. Being a bookworm, and even holding on to one so hard that he kept his book, he figured that this was natural, and forced down his unease. Increased thought told him that he was probably an outcast, and being weird was just covering his insecurity or something. Nevertheless, he would get this girl to drink, so that she will not die, if vampires are following the old, old stereotypes.

Mitch smiled knowingly at the girl, Anrah, both from her obvious discomfort and her confession of her lie. "I get that a lot," he said, in reference to her discomfort at his height, "And don't worry; I was Marcus TImberlea for the first few weeks I was here." Smiling, he pulled a chair out and sat, facing the newborns, with one led crossed horizontally over the other. He looked to the table and poured himself a glass of AB negative, took a sip, and set it down. It was decent, but he had... different tastes.

Looking over to the boy who's name Mitch still didn't know, he grinned. The boy wasn't handling his feeding frenzy very well, but at least he leaned toward the drunk side rather than the dangerous side. Nonetheless, Mitch had to laugh at his display, sincere as it may have been.
"He's right you know," he commented, gesturing to the girl who apparently refused to drink. Then, addressing both of the girls, he waved a hand to the table. "Please join us, if not to drink, then at least for some conversation. I need to get to know my younger siblings, right?"

The golden-eyed vampire Mithias sat back in his chair quietly for a while. Viorica, for all her flaws, had given some critical information. Mithias listened to the exchanges of those around him, the whimpers of the newly turned, the non-sensical verbal diarrhea of William's mindrush, and Evelyn's caring attempts to make the fledglings more comfortable. Mitch's arrival wasn't necessarily unwelcomed, for he was innocent as any of them... any of them that weren't lying that is.

Although there were clearly more important matters to attend, such as the social upheaval that three murdered human children would cause and the intentions of this mysterious vampire sire, Mithias addressed a more immediate topic: the fledglings. The fiber of Mithias' very being, whether alive or dead, was built on truth. It made him who he was, and that is why he couldn't help himself. Although he had a heart, sometimes truth called him to be cruel.

With a heavy sigh and a frown, Mithias stared at the table. "Lies." He said.

The others stopped what they were doing, each of the elders flashing a glance his direction, wondering exactly who the rebel Mithias was accusing this time. Who was he attacking? What lie was he calling out? Was he about to reveal some interesting piece of information?

"This blood is indeed from humans who are now dead, but it was not given freely or knowingly, nor was it taken after their hearts stopped beating." He glanced from Viorica to the fledglings, particularly to Angel. He cast no blame at Viorica for having taken the blood. In fact, if anything, it was a necessity to help the new fledglings stay alive, but he wanted them to know. "Think about it. Dead blood doesn't flow, and what altruistic humans would be around enough in number to each give enough blood to fill these bowls without dying? Hm? No. It makes no sense. I will enlighten you." Mithias got up to walk closer to the three new vampires. "You have a choice between a painful, second death now, or an immortality which WILL involve slaying your former kind. Even if you can manage to con a gift of blood from a human, and leave them alive, you will still be hated, reviled, and outcast. That is the truth." He closed his cloak around him. "I will not take your choice from you, but consider this. If you do chose to live as a vampire, you will have the power to change this world. You can prevent murders such as your own."

Anrah glanced at Mithias. She had just taken a seat next to Mitch when the elder vampire spoke of the lies held about the blood. It didn't really bother her, because as she said earlier, the people were dead now either way and the blood cannot be returned to them. She silently filled two more glasses for herself with shakey hands. She felt like she couldn't get enough as she quickly gulped those two down silently before regaining a bit of her composure and filling another glass more calmy.

He walked closer to her and the other two new vampires, telling them of their choices. To her it seemed rather obvious, which choice to make, but she realized it may be a confusing choice for someone like Angel.

Anrah didn't fear being an outcast, nor did she fear being hated. She could handle her own.

With a careless tilt of her head, Anrah went back to drinking the blood in her cup.

Viorica paced around her room, having left the dining room when she couldn’t get the privacy that she so desperately wanted. She raked her hands through her hair and almost tore it out with anger at the thought of him. He was the bane of her existence and he would be the death of her. Viorica threw herself into the plush red chair next to the fire. Restless, she sat up again and stripped from her ruined dress, standing in nothing but her silk slip.

Suddenly, the large window slammed open and a bat flew in, smoothly transforming into a beautiful man. His platinum blond hair was slicked back with a single lock falling into his amber eyes and his strong, pale jaw clenched and unclenched. Viorica’s heart fluttered and thundered in her chest with fear and something else.

“Viorica…” He spoke, his voice satin in the thick air.

“Vladimir, it has been…awhile.” Viorica whispered, covering herself self-consciously.

“You are as beautiful as ever.”

“Stop – don’t flatter me, you vile, disgusting cre-.” Vladimir snarled, lunging and grasping her throat and chin with his strong hands.

“Don’t call me such names, not with the history we’ve had.” He seethed, his lips curling in dissatisfaction.

“You wouldn’t kill me, Vladimir. Like you said, not with the history we’ve had.” Despite her bravado, Viorica swallowed fearfully and averted her eyes from Vladimir’s golden ones.

It was silent until Vladimir swooped down and pressed his pale lips to Viorica’s red-smeared ones. It was a passionate kiss, searing and burning into their minds as they knew what was to become. This was the end of their tragic love story.

Pulling away, Vladimir rested his forehead against hers as he crushed her beneath his hand, her face crumbling under the pressure of his marble strength. In one last act of compassion, Vladimir impaled her neck with his fangs and headily sucked up her undead blood that poured from her veins, stolen blood that she herself had ingested an hour before. Vladimir always loved the taste of her skin, the suppleness of her flesh giving way to his ivory canines. Viorica fell slack, her eyes glassy and her life barely clinging to her dead body. Vladimir embraced her body, slowly lowering to the ground. He travelled to her closet and picked a dress that Viorica never had the guts to throw out; it was plain and blood-soaked – it was the dress she was turned in, something that held such sentimental value that she could never leave it no matter what. Vladimir elegantly slipped Viorica in it.

Viorica could feel the life drain from her neck and crushed face; to die so broken, like a shattered China doll, it was disgraceful, but at least Vladimir allowed her to keep her decency. Viorica let out a hollow chuckle as a dim thought crossed her mind: at least she was going out with a bang…

“Please, don’t leave me here.” Viorica barely managed to say through her twisted lips. “I want to…be outside when I go instead of in this stuffy room.”

“Of course, Viorica.” Vladimir said lovingly, caressing Viorica’s face before lifting her into his arms and disappearing.

If anyone were to enter the room, all they would see would be her blood leading to the window and then nothing. There was no trace, no evidence of what had transpired, and Viorica’s heart faltered as she plummeted to the ground in her ex-lover’s arms, completely limp.

“I hope…my death won’t be pointless.” Her mere words seemed to break Vladimir’s icy exterior as he glanced down at her with his impenetrable golden orbs.

“Your death is coming, my sweet, but not yet. I still have plans for you yet.”

Evelyn headed to her own room, when she thought she heard a thud coming from Viorica’s frowning, Evelyn hesitated at the other woman’s boudoir. She knocked three times, distinct and firm, to which there was no answer. Bewildered a bit, Evelyn stared at the doorknob. It was so… invasive to do so, but she was concerned and could only hope her rudeness could be overlooked at such a time. Opening the door slowly, Evelyn spoke while moving her feet past the doorway.

”Viorica, are you alright?” she asked, suddenly stopping. Her blue piercing eyes widened, and took in the sight of blood over the floor and heading out the window. Grabbing her skirts and running to the window, Evelyn peered out into the sky, hoping to see a bat, hoping to see something to indicate what had happened, but nothing. Her face contorted with rare emotion, one of worry, while the pale woman quickly moved her feet and headed back towards the dining room. Shoving the door aside, her shoulders were back and her hands still gripped her dress tightly. Her eyes flickered among the ones there before biting her lip.

”Viorica is gone. I don’t know what happened, I…” she said, looking confused and worried still, unsure how to explain the scene to them precisely.

Mitch frowned a tad at Mithias' sudden speech. Leave it to him to ruin a good time, even if there was truth to it. Still, he had wanted a bit of leisure time before they had to get into anything heavy.
Sighing, a sound that was half-groan, he sat up from his comfortable position, glancing around at the newborns with a more serious, but kind look. "I won't lie and say his words aren't true, but-"

Just then, Evelyn burst in, face contorted and hands twisting her skirts. Not only was the interruption shocking, but from her, the rudeness alone was cause enough for worry, let alone her words.
Mitch bolted up, crossing the room in a few long strides to Evelyn's side, bending to her eye level and grabbing her shoulders. "What do you mean she's gone?" He demanded, voice not angry, but worried, "Are you sure she didn't just leave for some air? Some seclusion? That sounds like her, doesn't it?" His eyes searched Evelyn's, then glanced to the room. He must be jumping to conclusions. Viorica had always been a strong-willed woman, it wouldn't be so unexpected for her to leave without notice, would it?

Mithias knew right away something was terribly wrong. The look on Evelyn's face was enough. His mind instantly raced to put the pieces together, but every possible scenario he came up with in the span of seconds to explain what Evenlyn was saying seemed highly implausible. "What then...?" He looked at Evelyn with the face of one displeased at being caught off guard. Of course he was concerned.

Seeing his child reluctant to continue, Mithias directed himself to Viorica's room to investigate. Stopping within he watched the wind blow the sheer curtain into the room through the still open window. Two things were for certain: someone else had been here, and Viorica left bleeding. Without touching anything, Mithias walked to the window to scan for any signs of where she had gone... or been taken. This could have been the work of the mysterious vamp Viorica had mentioned, or... Mithias would have been wholly impressed if vampire hunters had pulled this off.

Evelyn tried to take a step back when Mitchell grabbed her shoulders, a small noise leaving her lips. She didn’t enjoy being touched so, especially when someone’s face was in hers. It just made her uncomfortable. She licked her lips and opened her mouth to explain better, but her eyes caught Mithias getting up and heading out of the room. Her eyes looked back to Mitchell’s and she relaxed her shoulders a bit more. ”I mean… something has happened to her. I don’t know what, but it’s not good,” she said firmly, disbelieving that Viorica would leave such a scene in her own room and exit without some form of grandeur.

Slipping from the other vampire’s grasp forcefully, she looked towards the fledglings with a bit of an embarrassed gaze. ”I’m sorry,” she apologized, brushing a piece of hair away from her face that had come out of place thanks to her quick pace towards the dining room. She relaxed her hands, knowing getting upset would not be any help, and so she simply put one hand holding her opposite arm and looked back to Mitchell, the hair falling in her face again. ”Just look at her room.”

Willy watched the proceedings with a kind of wide-eyed curiousity, his head tilted up and to the side, so he was watching everything somewhat out of the corner of his eyes. He figured that Viorcia was a very important figure in the castle- was something mentioned that it was hers? He wasn't sure, but she definitely liked using it to be extravagant. Either way, he figured that there would be quite a bit of change.

He rocked back on his heels, his blood daze wearing off. He looked about, watching the proceedings, and taking careful note of Evelyn's vulnerability, comparing it to the smooth neutrality and formality from before. He watched all the ancients' reactions, and after careful consideration, he took a deep breath, and just said, "I'ma be in the library."

He snatched his book from the table and very nearly ran out of the room, in very much need of somewhere at least slightly familiar. He didn't stop for anything- just rushed through the corridors, automatically turning, the route memorized within not by effort, but by simple memory.

When he finally reached the library, the short route feeling seemingly endless, he kept going, moving through the shelves for the ideal spot. Some minutes later, he found it against one of the farther walls, where a small table, lamp, and chair sat. He wasn't in the middle for sitting, and instead ending up laying down, book above him as he opened it, and his bookmark fell onto his face.

He slowly, carefully, set his book down, holding the bookmark with his other hand now. He held it up, feeling a burst of hope. Several names, weird names that all had similarity, with PASS:, and then a different word or phrase for each that had a mix of numbers, capital letters, or lower case letters. Usernames and passwords- half of them were labelled for various games, while the very topmost one was labelled "GMAIL."

The only problem was that, while remembering what email was, and figuring that gmail was some company's email type, he had neither any kind of laptop or computer, nor internet, nor any idea what website it was. He thought about it for a moment, and eventually decided that he couldn't do much of anything about it now. He was dead, by their standards, whoever they were, family or friends, and it'd be best to leave it that way.

It took some time for him to reach this conclusion, and slowly tore off the top of the paper bookmark, and shredded it. He stuffed the remains in his pocket, he opened his book to the beginning, and he began reading about Arthur Dent, the impending demise of his own, and then the demise of the planet Earth, and his stint of hitchhiking across the galaxy with his friend, Ford Prefect.

Mitchell immediately released Evelyn the second she showed discomfort, not wanting to make the woman uncomfortable. In his haste, he'd forgotten how closed off she could be. Instead, he followed Mithias out the door and to Viorica's room, stopping dead at the doorway. He stayed silent for a moment, leaning on the frame and taking in the sight before him.

There was a trail of blood, starting with a definite drip and smudging its way to the window and out. Viorica's dress, the one she'd been wearing that evening, lay tossed on the floor, no rhyme or reason to its placement.
Mitch rushed into the room then, joining Mithias at the open window and peering out. No body on the ground below, no trace of anything. Glancing to his elder, Mitch seemed very young in his worry. "Who could have done this?" he asked, then louder, "Who the hell got in here?!" Anger found its way into his voice, although not directed at Mithias, but more at the room as a whole.

Anrah had jumped up from her feet and went into a fighting Stance as soon as Evelyn burst into the room. She relaxed, but upon seeing the elder vampire's distressed face and hearing of Viorica's disappearance, she tensed up again. Did this mean that even here they weren't safe? If an Elder vampire got taken so easily, what would her and the other fledglings do to protect themselves?

Will had left the room, headed for the library, but she couldn't find herself to move with him. Wasn't this supposed to be her new family? It was obvious that the three fledglings wouldn't survive without elder guidance. She felt an intense pull to help in any way that she could.

"But what way would that be?" She mumbled to herself, looking to the ground after Mitch left as well. It was just Evelyn, Angel, and her left in the room.

"What can we do?" She asked Evelyn with a steady voice. She walked up to the woman, back straight and eyes burning. "You said she was gone. That male and you didn't see a body. So she was taken, not killed, right? We can still help her, can't we?"

Anrah didn't grab Evelyn's arm, nor did she even give the woman a comforting pat on the back. She stood there like a soldier. "Was I a soldier? No, I'm too young for that. Guess I was just a tough kid..."

Evelyn looked at William strangely as he exited to the library, finding his sudden urge to be apart from the rest of them odd. But then again, he’d seemed odd from the beginning. So she just brushed it off. Her eyes instead watched Mitchell leave the room, and then Kaley who walked up to her. She seemed to actually care that Viorica was gone. Whether it was for her own self-preservation or not, Evelyn admired it more than a trip to the library.

”Honestly I’m not a detective. I’m not sure what has happened to Viorica or what we can do about it besides hope to find a clue and find her. I would hope it would be done for me, so I would do no less for her,” Evelyn said in an even tone, having calmed herself, and just appearing logical now, and calm.

”But yes we have to look for her and help her. I’m sure she was taken by someone, I’m just not sure whom. Come, you too, Angel,” Evelyn said gently, nodding to the two girls and leading them up to Viorica’s room so they could see for themselves. When they arrived, Evelyn simply stood in the doorway, noticing Mitchell and Mithias speaking, and after all, she’d already seen the scene.

If someone were to look carefully in Viorica's room, by her dress underneath the chair there was a slip of paper. It was rectangular, small, and only had two words on it:

CASTLE BRAN

---

Viorica woke up slowly, her eyes flinching at the bright flame in front of her. Vladimir was across from her, drinking slowly from a cup that was brought to him by a stoic fledgling who could only be a few nights old. With the orange flickering across his face that casted the illusion of emotion in Vladimir's eyes, Viorica could remember why she fell for him in the first place, but then he looked up and she realized he wasn't the same man anymore. Not since the incident, not since her mistake. The man grinned and Viorica couldn't help but flinch.

"What's the matter, Viorica?" He taunted her, his grin anything but loving.

"When I fully heal, Vladimir, I am going to slaughter you." Viorica didn't say it threateningly, but as if a fact because, to her, the elder always wins...even if she was only the elder by a fortnight.

As it was, Viorica could feel her jaw bone slowly fixing together and snapping in place. It would be days before it healed completely and, until then, all Viorica could hope is that he would not kill her yet.

"Do you really think you can defeat me?" Vladimir asked conversationally, biting into hard bread just for the act of chewing. "Do you want one?"

"No."

Viorica tried to stay awake, but she couldn't help her eyes drifting close. Everything was black.

Angel walked into Victoricas room once shed noticed all the camotion. She set aside the fact that she was still quite hungry, and ignored what the new male vampire had done. Shed been standing in the background for awhile, watching, listening, trying to peice together how shed gotten to the castle in the first place or any information about herself while she was breathing. Angel saw the dress on the floor.

Angel looked around, blood, dress on the floor, open window. She couldnt manage to put together anything. "She definately did not do this out of her own free will." Angel said. She thought. "OK, She was kidnapped. Hmm... It appears someone stripped her and drug her out the window. Is there anyone who has anything agenst Vicorica?" She asked curiously. "Her dress is on the floor... Was she in the middle of changing? Was she raped?" Angel asked aloud, all these questions popped into her head with little to gather an answer from.

Vivienne's eyes stayed closed as she awoke from what felt like a deep slumber, she could feel the hardness, the uncomfortableness of what she was laying on underneath her. She could feel and smell the air around her, in the distance she could hear voices, they seemed close and far away at the same time and she truthfully had no clue where they were coming from. Or even where she was. Or even who she was. A slight panic rose inside her as she wracked her brain, it was as if she was a clean slate, with no memories of who she was or where she came from. It was terrifying, and it infuriated her. A name crossed her mind.. Vivienne. That must be her name she thought.

Slowly and carefully she opened her eyes, revealing two bright blue orbs, to find that the room was empty of others except for herself, she felt weird, as if there were something wrong with her, as if her body had been changed from how it had been before, not that she could remember how it had been before, she just had this feeling something was off. Swallowing her fear she looked down at herself, taking in her paled skin, again it was wrong, it shouldn't be that pale, yet it was. Her hands were normal, fingers slender, the muscles in her arms toned. Her shirt had ridden up slightly and she discovered a slight bruising to her stomach, one that was quickly fading to nothing before her eyes. She shut her eyes unable to comprehend what was happening as she ran her hands through her golden brown hair which had curled and grabbed at it, trying to wrap her head around what was happening to her.

Swallowing her fear Vivienne stood up on strong legs and slowly walked towards the door, her ears perking at the sounds of other voices. Where was she? The walls looked stone like, and old, much older than what the memories her body had that she couldn't seem to reach, sighing she felt anger spark inside of her, and then..then there was the hunger. It built like a fire inside of her stomach as just outside the door she fell to her knees as the fire consumed her every being, she let out a low guttural growl from her throat that surprised even herself and she felt the rage, so much of it. Directed at the fact that she couldn't remember anything, that she didn't know where she was, and that she was so hungry she couldn't stand it. Finally she let out a loud scream of pain as the fire of hunger consumed her body, AHHHHH

Slowly and with small aching puffs of breath she gripped the wall and pulled herself onto her feet clutching her stomach she began slowly walking towards the voices, hoping they could help, hoping she didn't take her wrath out on them, and hoping the hunger would go away. Each step was a task and she grimaced the entire way.