The Craven Estate

Sir Thomas Craven

6pm

The townhouse in London proper had come to life a few days prior to the carriages arrival. Servants had returned, furniture had been cleaned, the entirety of the house had been returned to a liveable state. Most of the staff had been moved from the estate in Salisbury with almost no new faces. Training new staff on such a short notice would have been all but impossible given that they would have had to been introduced to the fact that their master was a vampire. So instead the staff moved to the London townhouse.

The carriage arrived in front of the house a full thirty minutes before dinner was ready. Right on time. A servant standing on the back of the carriage dismounted and walked around to the side of the carriage holding it open. The man inside stepped out into the cold London night. Black overcoat buttoned closed and top hat to complete his appearance. As soon as he was in the door he removed the hat, it always made him feel like a target. Then again appearances were important. One of the servants helped him out of the coat as the butler approached. “Welcome home Master Craven, how was your trip to India?” The man smiled “Enlightening as always Henry, although I’m really glad to be home. Nothing like dreary Old London.” The smile clung to the man’s face as he tugged off his gloves walking down the hallway. “Did I miss anything important? I assume that if something had happened I would have received a missive?”

Henry cleared his throat “Actually sir, apparently High Lord Vlad is stepping down, he has set a challenge to the elders. A letter just came in from Lord Ravnos, shall I fetch it?” Thomas turned and nodded to Henry, “Yes, and would you mind bringing the tea I sent home from china in 1301? I think this is an appropriately auspicious night for that.” Henry bowed ever so slightly and left Thomas standing in the study. A pair of servants came in and deposited a chest on the ground next to the Master of the house’s desk. Opening it, Sir Thomas sorted through the various items, extracting a thick volume and a wooden cane from it. Leaning the walking cane against the desk Thomas began to page through the book. A gift for Lord Ravnos, it was a codex of the Dervish fighting techniques he had been in India to study, it had taken nearly twenty years to complete the codex but it had been worth it. Setting it down before wrapping it in a silken cloth he had picked up in Istanbul on his way home.

With that Henry returned with the tea and a letter. Sipping at the tea Thomas opened the letter and read over it. A summons, and a request for an idea as to what would impress the vampire lord sufficiently to hand over the throne of London. Thomas smiled into the mug as he drank the tea, reading over the letter a second time. Looks like I came home just in time to see something quite interesting

“Henry! I won’t be taking dinner tonight, I have an engagement. I need you to bring around the carriage and bring me a change of clothes, preferably the layered leathers. I’m going to see Lord Ravnos.” With that Thomas wrapped up the codex and picked up the cane. Time to go.

-----------------------------------------

The Ravnos Coven

Sir Thomas Craven

8 pm

No top hat this time, just the long black hair pulled back off his shoulders and confined. Stepping into the library as the others filed out he smiled, most of them wouldn’t recognize him. It had simply been too long. Wandering in Thomas found a seat and set the book down before producing a flask and opening it as well, setting it on the table next to him and settled in to wait for something interesting.

- Meanwhile, outside the London pub: @Jangel13 -

Lorenzo and his gang are prowling the streets ready to hunt some stupid humans. Across the street from a pub, you can see five people stumble out hurriedly: two heterosexual couples and a male, fifth wheel. After they joke about the fight going on inside, the two girls get into a disagreement about whether or not the female waitress "had it coming". Their voices get louder and louder by the second, filling the entire street with their high pitched voices. The fifth wheel was the more sober one out of the group. He immediately cuts in to shut them up. There was no need to add a cat brawl to the night. He then offers a shortcut to get to his house, since he didn't live too far from here.

One couple tells the others to go on ahead. Not waiting for a response from their group, they quickly scurry to an alleyway nearby... and commence in canoodling one another. The other couple, the woman quite pissed and disgusted at everyone else and her lover too drunk to comprehend her emotions, tell the fifth wheel to lead the way.

Sighing, the fifth wheel takes the first right on Garret Street. Before the turn, he meets eyes with you, Lorenzo, but thinks nothing of it. Wiping the sleep off his eyes, he marches forward. His friends were assholes who only cared about themselves and here he was taking care of the fools. Well, minus the horny idiots.

Lorenzo looked at the scene before him as they all arrived near the London pup just in time to see 5 targets one for each of them. Lorenzo wanted his boys and girl to feed tonight so he had to make sure each of them were given a target that was obtainable. He knew he had to consider each ones abilities but the thing was that the humans were mostly in pairs except for the one that was sober and obviously harder to trick into being secluded. He first thought about who would be able to work well into taking the horny couple that were conveniently already in an alley but they needed to be convinced first so Lorenzo turned towards Maria knowing this was her kind of thing since she is the resident charmer and he then decided to put with her Markus their diplomat. It wouldn't be hard to get horny and stupid into a more secluded spot for them so they could dispose of the body. Then he decided to sick Eric and Dugan on the other couple with their rage they could easily be persuaded to go into counseling by Dugan while Eric made sure to act like "the bodyguard" and keep them from hurting each other. Lorenzo would then take on the lone sober man by himself.

Maria and Markus:
Maria took the lead with Markus as they walked over to the two love birds before they could take their cloths off and get to far into it. Maria went over and said "hey you two you really shouldn't do that where anyone can see, but if you don't mind me and my man joining you we will take you to a more...exciting spot" she offered them biting her lip before she said exciting to emphasis that the place they would lead the two would be perfect for their activities. One thing Maria could do was charm and that went perfect for the horny couple as they quickly got up and each took one of the other Markus went with the woman and Maria went with the man like they were swing buddies. It only took a short walk to get them somewhere that they could dispose of the body before they started to get it on....for about 2 minutes of making out before they both got to their necks and that was all she wrote. Lorenzo taught them how to dispose of the bodies once drained and they did before going back to the pub to wait

Eric and Dugan"

Dugan took the lead to make sure to talk the woman down and keep her calm. Dugan was able to convince the woman not to attack her husband as Eric went to the man and wrapped an arm around them "now im a councilor and I couldn't help but notice all the signs that your relationship isn't as it seems. Now I am very well versed in matters of love and if you would allow I can go with you to discuss this while my friend here will take your husband and make sure to have a talk with him Dugan offered and the woman didn't mind as long as she didn't have to see him. The man protested of course but Eric whispered to him "don't worry we aren't going to talk were going to go get hammered He said and the man nodded before agreeing. They went their separate ways then and again went to a secluded spot before they both pounced on their targets drinking their fill before disposing of the bodies. Once they made sure nobody would find the bodies they went back to the pub glad to see that Maria and Markus were alright as they all waited on their enforcer to come back.

Lorenzo:
Finally it was the leaders turn to take on the hard mark and feed. Lorenzo went over to the man"you know they don't appreciate you, you are the smart one out the group and they don't even appreciate what you do for them Lorenzo said and knowing that he had seen Lorenzo earlier he agreed since their was no point hiding it when he saw it all. "why don't you and me get to know each other. Im sure their are things that you need to get off your chest Lorenzo said but while he was talking Lorenzo was making sure that they walked into an alleyway that they could be alone together. The man was to focused on either talking bad about his friends or saying how he was much better then they were to notice that Lorenzo was leading him away from the streets. Soon He finally noticed asking where Lorenzo took him and Lorenzo shrugged before making a shocked face in the different direction to make the man look before Lorenzo took his bite and it was over drinking him clean. Afterwards Lorenzo disposed of the body in a nearby sewer and went back to the others. They all had feed and without any complications it almost never went this easy but obviously he trained them well....

Touching her neck nervously, the timid dhampir walked in between her provocative Guardian and her repulsive thrall. Trying to hide the imprint that brands her as a monstrosity, Lyla looked down at her feet walking silently and in thought. Due to her Guardian's aggressive nature, she did not have time to grab a ribbon to cover it... At least her long hair would hide most of it for now.

Her appearance resembled that of a peasant compared to them. Even if Greg was a deformed man, he still wore better fabric than Lyla would ever. His mistress always dressed extravagantly. Anything really that truly showed her assets. The diamonds on her neck and dangling from her ears screamed I could afford the better things in life. Not to mention the fox scarf she so eloquently flaunted. Lyla peered up to stare at Magdalena's chest, large like melons, and then she glanced down at her own... tiny grapes. Truly, Lyla was cursed from birth.

Though it was it Spring time, it was still a bit nippy. A gust of the wind forced Lyla to cross her arms and huddle against herself, freezing in this weather. It didn't help she rarely stepped outside.

"I remember when I was freezing as little girl. Old man offered me his dirty jacket. I put it on, and there was strong scent of fish and tobacco. The vomit flew out of my mouth, and old man took his jacket back. Would you like the furs?" Magdalena spoke in her broken English when she noticed Lyla's plight.

The petite dhampir didn't quite get the point of the story, and a feeling of repulsion sat on her stomach. "...N-no. I'll be okay. I just don't go outside much." she explained with a mumble, her face aimed straight at the ground. "This vhy you virgin, little Lyla." the foreign servant uttered out in response. Lyla's face went red with shame.

At the exact moment that Greg said "virgin", the woman filled with stories brought up another chapter in her life. "Ah I lost virginity when I was little girl too. Uncle came to town and papa was outside pushing plow..." The 17 year old girl drowned out the rest of the story, slowly backing up while Magdalena passionately reminisced about an assumed awful event and Greg listened intently to his master. Turning on a dime, the much younger girl fled the scene as fast as she could.

Lyla dashed forward, yet she didn't know where she was going. A turn here and a turn there, buildings and people blurred past her. At full momentum, she suddenly saw a door open and a young man walk out. Unable to stop herself in time, the girl barreled into him. Luckily for him, she weighed nothing, so only she was sent sprawling onto the ground. With a thud, the dhampir landed on her bottom and her hay colored hair was disheveled. The symbol that branded her as an abomination was revealed for a split second before Lyla quickly covered it with a palm. Her azure eyes flickered up to the dark skinned man, both a gleam of curiosity and fear radiating from her expression. Not a moment later though, she looked away and picked herself up. @Nytem4re

"Er...Errr...I-I'm so sorry, sir." she nervously apologized before sprinting away again.

Her feet slowed down to a brisk walk, thinking she was far enough from Magdalena to go about her own business now. Breathing a sigh of relief, she began to admire the city of London at night, although she wasn't sure why everyone in this section of the city happened to be scantily clad. She wondered if today was some strange holiday humans happened to be celebrating. Perhaps a day honoring fertility?

"LITTLE LYLA! LITTLE LYLA!" her ears picked up Greg shouting not even a quarter of a mile away. Grimacing, Lyla had to think fast so her annoying superior wouldn't find her. She noticed a tall, handsome man walking her way. His stature would easily conceal her she deducted, and she hurried over to him. Trying to be nonchalant about it (yet failing miserably), the nervous wreck of a girl got behind him and followed within inches of his heels. If everything went well, Magdalena and Greg would just pass her by without even noticing her and this man would go about his business without saying a thing. @BlackPanther

~

Rewinding a bit, the story returned back to Magdalena talking about her first time, "Mother never leave bed. Poor mum with tuberculosis. Uncle made her better. I invite first love over. He twelve years older and uncle gave okay. We play in backyard with the night bugs and there in barn I was virgin no more. Week later, he died." Showing no feeling of pain or sympathy, she came back to reality and looked at Greg, her dear friend, who gave her a stare of admiration.

Within seconds, they both realized the little dhamipir went missing, "Pametno devojčica" (Clever Girl) the woman said in her native, Serbian tongue. Calmly, her and Greg went to look for her. Following her scent, they turned many which ways. Lena was impressed on the journey Lyla went just to get away from her. As they walked, Greg continuously yelled, "LITTLE LYLA! LITTLE LYLA!" While the mysterious woman sauntered silently, observing her surroundings.

@Nytem4re They spotted a tan man who had precious Lyla's scent on him. Walking past the stranger as if she did not care for him, her eyes gave orders to Greg. She wanted Greg to see how much this stranger knew in terms of Lyla, while Lena continued to follow her scent. It was quite odd for an innocent girl like her to come this way... the red light district.

Approaching the tan man, light of hair and frost eyes, Greg with his sickly face asked nonchalantly, "Little Lyla came here, dark man?" Greg knew her scent was on him but he didn't want to give it away that he could smell it. The diluted eyed and greasy hair Greg stared at the man for a very, very long time, drool even slowly came out of his mouth.

Greg was contemplating if he liked this figure in front of him or not and then with a nod, Greg smiled widely like a child would, "Greg likes dark man. Reminds me of dark beer. I bring you to my lady as new friend." Greg watched him eagerly as he gestured for the stranger to follow the path "he thought" his lady went.

Strolling down the street with the human body and sweat in the air, Magadalena closed her eyes and imagined the people around her. She felt the ladies of the night and drunk customers, behind doors, up the stairs, and around her. She heard the sounds of pleasure and pain. Tonight was a good business night and with every step she took, Lyla's scent got stronger and surpassed all other smells in the air.

@BlackPanther Opening her eyes, she could see a tall man, nicely built, and gorgeous hazel eyes, was standing in front of a cabaret. This cabaret had the best ladies perform and whoever was the highest bidder of the night got to have a once in a lifetime experience, with her. Courtesans and prostitutes loved faithful customers. The cabaret helped with that.

With a serene expression and a motherly facade, she approached the man. She tilted her head as her jade eyes looked at him up and down with intrigue. Petting her fox fur on her shoulders as her diamond earrings shined, she let her eyes lock with his. Leaving a small distance between them, with her chest only inches away from his body, she played along with her little dhampir's charade, "Have you seen little girl? She leave while I tell story."

_{Collab between Co-GM and GM}

Elizabeth Parks

Elizabeth stared at the Wraith, unspeaking the whole time. She gave the Adjutants a sour look after he left.
"Don't forget to do what I told you to do either." She commanded, and swept out of the room quickly. She hit the street. The sooner she caught wind of the rival nest, the better. And she knew exactly where to start. She went around back and hailed her carriage, elegantly ascending inside. It was still dark out; perfect time for vampires. She swept the red light district, looking for any signs of alliegence free vampires that she could question. She knew these streets like the back of her hand, and she knew that vampires who fed wildly in the London night knew things that no others could know. They knew which areas to avoid, and they would know exactly where other large congregations of vampires would be lurking. Waiting. Waiting for Elizabeth to sniff out and report to her own Nest.

@Viciousmarrow @lovely complex

Vikas feels someone walking behind him. He was tempted to turn around, but doesn't sensing that the one behind him isn't going to do any damage to him. Most likely they were hiding from someone...or something. As he continues walking he feels the familiar feeling of hunger creep back to him. With a look passing through his eyes he continues waking. He is half tempted to turn around and deal with whoever is following him...instead he turns his head a bit and studies the girl following him. She looks very much like a peasent...with hay yellow hair. Her blue eyes were quite pretty though. He does a quick discret nostril flare and memorized her scent..in case she leaves and something chases her. Subconsciously he ends up in front of a Caberet, his hunger clearly taking over. He faces it for a few moments...as if fighting an internal battle for awhile.
Before he could go in though, a woman approaches him. He takes in her appearance and tilts his head. *must be asking about the girl following me* he decides to play his own facade.
"A girl? No...I've been walking here alone." His velvety soft voice passes along the lie smoothly with no hint of it being what it is. He studies the woman in front of him for a few seconds before allowing his eyes to slowly move back to his destination. If he was attacked he would be able to react fairly quickly. This woman seemed rather dangerous...even with the elegant garb she adorned. He wasn't even tempted to pick pocket her. He did notice how close her body was to his though..and that made thinking a teensy bit difficult.

@Viciousmarrow

To the little girl's extravagant entrance Laurent payed little attention. He just raised an eyebrow with slight curiosity as to why she was requiring their cooperation. He thought the Grangrel preferred to act alone or command the lower ranks. Plus he didn't like the way she addressed him. But he did like her idea. An slaughter of the powerful was very fitting for their house. And gaining an ally in a place as competitive as this wasn't a bad idea. Maybe together they would be strong enough to do something worth of impressing their superiors.

Very brutal, Lady Grangrel. Your father will surely like it." He mocked a bit the fact that she thought that being Amaury's daughter would mean something. That man fucked so many women that a bastard child wasn't anything out of the ordinary. But he didn't want to start a war with Igraine, so he avoided voicing his thoughts out loud. "I'd gladly give you my support." He offered her his hand in a gentle manner, forcing a bit of a smile in his angel-like face, though his eyes remained cold and expectant.

Igraine looked up at Laurent with a proud, cheeky smile; she always let any sort of praise go to her head. She was about to take his hand of cooperation when Elizabeth interjected.

"And how do you plan on getting past the royal guard?" Elizabeth piped in suddenly, her smile now holding a cold disapproval. "Will you blurt out your intentions to kill Her as you enter Her halls?" She asked sarcastically. "If you don't reveal vampirism in this endeavour then I will personally kneel before you, whelp." She finished, suddenly slapping Igraine across the face with her pipe, sending hot tobacco burning across her cheek.
"Just because Amaury fucked a little girl to make you doesn't make you special." She whispered in her ear, moving past her to the other one.

As the ashes from Elizabeth's pipe splashed across Igraine's face, burning her, Igraine flinched, but managed to hit the sweet spot between trying to preserve her dignity while simultaneously not seeming rudely defiant. "I'm sorry, Lady Parks. It was a...silly idea," Igraine said in a subdued and monotonous tone while Elizabeth turned to give orders to Laurent. With Elizabeth's head turned, Igraine bit her own lip painfully thinking about Elizabeth's comment about her birth.

"Whelp, come with me." She told Igraine as she descended into the tunnels below the tavern.

Igraine made to follow Elizabeth when a massive cloaked figured slinked out of the darkness.

An enormous shadowy figure watches as the two Adjutants, Laurant and Igraine, are bossed around by the imperious Elizabeth. Before Elizabeth can vanish into the tunnels beneath the tavern, the heavily garbed vampire steps forth. This person's face can not be seen, hidden behind their shrouded hood.

"Oh my darling Elizabeth, where, oh where are you heading now?" the ambiguous sing song voice of her superior calls out. "I have come to give you orders. Pressing matters, my darling." It's quite clear from their demeanor that they are a Prelate, a rare sight for the two Adjutants. Unseen eyes suddenly dart to Laurent and Igraine. A soft chuckle can be heard before this enigmatic person steps closer to Igraine. They kneel down to get on her level, silently breathing.

"Amaury's bastard. As edible as your mother was. If only he had let me have you when you were a child..." the shade whispers ominously to her. Igraine can make out the lower portion of this eerie person's face. Two massive scars run from the corners of their mouth, a terrifying Chelsea Grin "smiling" back at her. The rest of their jawline seems burnt and scarred. Before she can respond, they stand upright and stride toward Elizabeth.

"As I was saying. Pressing matters, Elizabeth. Very pressing, yes. Lord Grangrel would like you to find the root of the Malkavian infestation." they purr. "This isn't an open ended assignment though, my darling. Oh no, no, no. You have until the end of the night to uncover a lead. If not... Well..." The person draws a smile across her lips (as if insinuating she'll have a permanent smile just like his), snickering all the while. Whoever this figure is, they are clearly not sane.

"Don't think I have forgotten about your kiddies though." they tell her, adding more onto her plate. The shade spins around and stares at the two again. "You two... So young, so fresh. They call me the Wraith, for I have no name. I have served Lord Grangrel longer than anyone. As a matter of convenience, I will have you carry out a couple of menial tasks that would be beneficial to our House."

The frail, gross hand then aims at the smaller vampire, and a long, saliva coated tongue drags across the Wraith's chin. "And you, my treat... If you wish to find yourself in the kind graces of you father, then locate a package that was taken from him. It contains our newest supplement to our thriving, underground... 'pharmacy'. Yes, yes, the white stuff." they inform her, a somewhat seductive tone to their voice.

With that, the cloaked figure begins to take his leave. However, a few steps forward and they stop. "Remember, failure is not an option, my sweets..." they warn before vanishing from sight.

Igraine is frozen stiff at the approach of this ominous figure. She had only heard rumors of the Wraith before but seeing...it...outdid all the hearsay. Here was a creature that possessed not only a high position, but had the physical strength and cunning to back it up. It was all Igraine to do not to gulp or show abject fear as the Wraith stooped down and threatened to eat her. Igraine knew her mother had been 'disposed', but she didn't know how; now she had a guess.

But what possibly struck her the hardest was the Wraith's mention of the coca. The cartel had recently been dealing with South American traders and came upon the substance which was more potent than opium, procuring a fairly large sample that was offered up to Lord Grangrel to have the first taste of its effects as well as to allow him to judge whether the cartel should procure more, or learn to synthesize it themselves. To get another block of the stuff in a timely fashion was all but impossible, and at any rate, Amaury was possessive: if something of his was stolen, he didn't want a 'replacement', he wanted to regain what was his and no other. Igraine imagined the block being wasted on some decadent lowlife sap who didn't truly appreciate its value, getting high as the stars in some back alley and possibly sharing it with his fellow bedraggled vagabonds. Igraine imagined returning to her father in disgrace with nothing but a handful of powder cupped in her quaking hands. She dared not imagine what her father and the Wraith would do to her if that actually happened.

When the Wraith left, Igraine noticed that Elizabeth was more than a little peeved at having been bossed around by the prelate, and thus felt a slight vindictive satisfaction inside, though she didn't let it show. Though Elizabeth told Igraine and Laurent to continue to follow her orders, Elizabeth left the building so quickly that Igraine assumed that her previous orders to follow Elizabeth were moot at this point. At any rate, Igraine doubted Elizabeth would let her into her carriage. Igraine ran to her room and grabbed what looked like a long pole wrapped in burlap and headed up to the tavern entrance, catching the scent of her father. He had recently come back from a meeting, she assumed, with the other elders. He could have lost the coca at any point along his journey to the meeting and back, so all she could do was follow the trail and see if she could discover any traces of the distinct, sharp, and intoxicating scent of the drug along the way. Slinging the wrapped pole across her shoulder, Igraine ran out into the street, heading in the direction of the Café Royal.

House of Grangrel | 8:30 PM

Laurent stared at the eerie figure in front of him for a moment. Not many times he had seen a Prelate, and it was the first time he had been addressed personally. For him, this meant the he was finally being trusted. And unlike the other Adjutant, Laurent didn't fear the Wraith. Instead, he admired the ominous aura of power that surrounded the creature. In fact, he'd rather serve the Wraith rather than the imperious ex-concubine.

"I will, Your Grace, for I live to serve the Master and the House." He kneeled down humbly like a vassal, and as soon as the Prelate left, he recovered his usual prideful demeanor and headed towards his bedroom without directing a second look to Elizabeth. He had a task given by a higher authority and he would fulfill it successfully.

Getting information was something he usually enjoyed, though the idea of having to go to the whorehouses didn't appeal to him. He never got to understand what any man of honour could possibly find there that he couldn't get by other means. Laurent himself never set a foot in such a place unless it was for work, as both sex and blood were things he only enjoyed when they came from the highest members of society, and his conquests only meant a thing when he alone achieved them. Paying for pleasure, how despicable. He thought as he changed his clothes again. This time he chose a white linen shirt and a vest, together with some navy blue trousers and coat and expensive shoes, just like the uniform of a private school. After that, he took a folder full of papers and a textbook, and hid an ornate dagger in his belt. For the night he would be Denis, a very human and very naive college student looking for a friend. Hopefully, many men would be willing to help the hopeless student find his 'friend' in the Red Light district. This was going to be an easy night, he hoped, though before leaving the room he took with him a small gun, just in case.

------------------

Red Light District | 9:30 PM

Laurent walked down the street looking around for any clues, though to the passerby he just seemed to be lost. The boy didn't want to enter any of the establishments, even when he knew that eventually he would have to do it if he wanted to get the information, but he hoped that he wouldn't have to do it alone. He feared being dragged into a room with a scantly clothed woman more than he feared the punishment of not accomplishing his task. He needed to find someone first...

He took a glance at his surroundings, looking for an easy 'prey', which reminded him that he hand't fed in days. His stomach growled softly. But to his dismay nobody seemed to be walking alone. The ladies were flirting with their customers, and the men were either drunk, talking to their friends or trying to grope some female butt. None of them would be of much help getting intel, but he couldn't keep wasting his time, even if it was still early in the night.

He saw a handsome man talking to a richly (but too revealing) dressed woman. She was pressing herself to him, but he didn't look like a customer. Neither she looked like a prostitute, though maybe she was a Madame of some sorts. She reminded him a bit of Elizabeth. The man, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to get away from her, even if a just a moment later he was staring at her boobs. Maybe he should interrupt their conversation? Well, he didn't have many other options, so...

The boy walked towards them, seemingly distracted, and 'accidentally' bumped into the man, dropping his papers that rapidly scattered around. "Ah! Pardon, Monsieur! Je suis desolé!" He said in delicious french. "I was just... I-I..." He bent down to gather his papers, slowly enough to give the man some time to acknowledge his presence.

@BlackPanther

@Neko Sensei@Viciousmarrow



Vikas was so focused on the woman pressing herself on him that he nearly im pales the man who bumped into him. His instincts almost getting him into trouble. Thankfully, he had managed not to pull out a dagger and stab him. Instead he forces himself to stumble to the side somewhat...when usually he just wouldn't move. He continues forcing himself to act the part of innocent human....even though he's hungry.

With a swallowed growl he straightens himself. He proceeds in wiping off imaginary dust on his shoulder and straightens his jacket. Then he looks down at the guy and gives a dismissive wave. "It's alright" though his eyes were conveying a completly different message. A message of *run along...so you aren't killed*

He focuses back on the woman keeping himself as pleasent as possible. "I apologize for the interruption...as I was saying...I haven't seen a girl..let alone a girl named lyla" his voice comes out velvety smooth as always. His eyes focusing on her dismissing the guy. Figuring he was going to leave. Though he was ready in case either the guy or the woman attacked him.

It had not even been a minute outside when Locke was met with a female barreling down towards him. Surprisingly he hadn't been disoriented at all, the impact was as if a small pebble was thrown into him. Locke dusted himself off while the female stared at him, probably out of wonder why such a man of a foreign land was in London. Or out of fear of why a "savage" was roaming the streets of London. It wouldn't be the first time someone had stared at him like that, but, in her defense, Locke did stare at her a bit too. While her hay colored hair or azure eyes were enough to gawk at, a strange symbol on the right side of her neck interested him more than her beauty.

A tattoo maybe? Or a branding. Locke thought it was probably a branding. Locke doubted it was a tattoo, because he had never seen any British females have anything of the sort. The British were known to practice prisoner and slave branding. It might also be why she was in such a hurry, but perhaps he was jumping to conclusions too quickly. Locke was about to follow her when a man walked up to him and promptly stared with such concentration the man did not even bother to hide the drool coming out of his mouth.

"Little Lyla came here, dark man?"

Lyla was probably the woman with the strange symbol. It might also possibly be why she was in such a hurry, to get away from this man. However, Locke could probably convince this man to allow him to talk to her a bit in private if Locke helped the man out.

"Ah yes. I assume Lyla has hay colored hair and azure eyes? She we-

"Greg likes dark man. Reminds me of dark beer. I bring you to my lady as new friend."

Greg walked off into the direction Lyla had gone, despite Locke not having told him of the direction she had gone. Perhaps a lucky guess? Locke followed Greg, not quite too sure what to make of his comments. Perhaps that was the strange way the British complimented each other, and if so, Locke would have to thank him for his kind words somewhere down the line. It was not often when his looks brought about positive thinking among the British. Locke quickly followed behind Greg, hoping to find some answers.

@Nytem4re @Viciousmarrow @Neko Sensei @BlackPanther

As Greg trudged along, he started small talk with his new friend, "Little Lyla loved by Master. Master strange vomen and loves Virgin Lyla, but Lyla is hermit. Do dark man have master?" The creature started to pick at his peeling, dead skin on his arm, as he continued with his croaky voice, "Master vent this vay. Maybe found Little Lyla?" Greg was a man of simple thoughts, especially since he didn't remember much of his past. Anything beyond when he met Magdalena was lost in the abyss of his mind.


"A girl? No...I've been walking here alone." The handsome man responded to the vampiress coolly. Her lips slightly curved up, this man must of had to lie many times before. One thing Magdalena was good at was detecting a lie, but it has taken many years of her studying the human body and mind to master such skill. One of her great feats that gave her respect from Ravnos was that she caught a traitor within the Coven, who shared some of Marc's plans to an outside source.

The dark-haired man smelled of fresh cut pine bough and pine cone wreath. It was like a combination of balsam and patchouli combined with natural spruce and cedar wood... like the month of December. If it wasn't for Magdalena being near Lyla everyday, finding her scent would be quite challenging, especially since the dhampir had Grangrel blood in her and not Ravnos'. However, Lyla's flourishing allegiance to Marc helped her scent stand out throughout the rest. Due to the Guardian having a direct link to Marc Ravnos, she could feel the beating heart of someone who would die for him.

Of course, if Lyla had gotten more than a few miles away... the search would take a lot longer. Everyone, humans and vampires alike, had a scent to their blood, some more distinct than others. Lyla's blood was the only person Magdalena knew that smelled like cinnamon... While the vampiress herself smelled like a Burek, a Serbian pita-meat pie: a strong aroma of many meats (lamb, beef, and pork) and filo dough.

A young-looking, fancy boy entered the picture. He smelled like a French crepe with chocolate-hazelnut spread. The sweet scent reminded her when Dr. Dippel returned from France and brought with him the recipe for this delicacy. The boy that looked around Lyla's age crashed into the dark-haired man and fell onto the floor, bottoms first.

"Ah! Pardon, Monsieur! Je suis desolé!"

Tonight was a busy night for the red light distract. Lena let her eyes roam to see if there were people... possibly vampires... watching this scene take fold, especially a Grangrel since this was their territory. One must never let their guard down because someone could come out the shadows and strike. The pedestrians seemed oblivious to the commotion in front of the famous, Cabaret Voltaire. Her eyes peered down at the pretty boy. She let her unnerving, even-tempered stare pierce his, "You work this area? Sad that little boy puts looks to waste." Magdalena assumed the boy was a male prostitute for special, perverted male customers. It seemed like the logical reason for a boy with his looks, what else would he be doing here? She brought her attention back to her original suspect hiding her cinnamon-blood pet.

"I apologize for the interruption...as I was saying...I haven't seen a girl..let alone a girl named Lyla."

Stepping a little back, to allow him to think properly, she purred, "Apologies. Little girl will make father sad." From behind her, she could smell the strong odor of burnt plywood coming near, Greg's lovely fragrance, with the dark man from earlier.

Greg went straight to the sweet-smelling boy, immediately intrigued by the chocolate that entered his nose. He knelt down to the snow haired boy and offered his gloved hand, he beamed his dimples on his skinny face and revealed surprisingly healthy, pearl teeth, "Master, I keep him?"

While everyone was distracted by Greg's and the dark man's appearances, Lyla took the opportunity to slip into the door to her left, not realizing what she was entering (Cabaret Voltaire). _{[snippet added by Viciousmarrow, which will lead to his post]}

"Greg, maybe 'nother time. We need find little girl. You look 'round, I get food for you in Voltaire." She looked at the bigger man (Vikas), who she had yet learned his name, and asked, "Would like join eating prime rib? Lyla is little girl who gets lost. After food, I find her." She turned to the dark skinned man (Locke) and the chocolate smelling boy (Laurent), extending her offer, "Come if like, or stay with Greg." She gestured to the cabaret.

Vampires can get a temporal dose of blood anywhere if you knew where and what to order. Cabaret Voltaire was known for their bloody, prime rib, plus she knew one of the waiters. He had shared with her the "special" which is only provided on special occasions but if you ask for it, it will be received (a bottle of snake wine infused with blood...an odd Chinese drink).

Elizabeth yelled for the cab driver to stop. She had caught a few scents along the at, but most smelled like Grangrel house blood, so she moved on. But she had smelt something new. Like oil and blood, mixed together. A stray. She hopped out of the coach and walked slowly towards the scent. The building was a shabby old place, with no definitive markings, but musk was in the air. And a distinct other smell. This was a brothel. Elizabeth moved inside. The place was filthy, nothing like her establishment. A Madame sat at a table near the entrance, but she was asleep. Poor work ethics. She swept past the stupid woman and into the brothel itself. Some people looked at her funny, but most didn't pay attention to her at all, too involved in their... activities. The people were all laid out in one room, on separate gross looking beds. All near eachother, to save space. Now don't get me wrong, Elizabeth had seen all manners of people come through her brothel. People looking for groups weren't uncommon. But some privacy was a necessity. This place was a pigsty. And then she saw him. He was filthy, with oily black hair that curled like it was wet. He had gross looking stubble and a nose that was too long. His whore was laying on her side, unconscious. She would probably be dead by now. He saw Elizabeth, and smiled, drawing closer to her, until he was right up in her personal space. Elizabeth blushed, putting on her innocent young girl act, with her big blue eyes.
"What brings a pretty lady like you here?" He breathed into her ear, and she smelt his blood. Oily, just like his hair. Filthy. Unwashed. He was obviously a rookie, otherwise he would have been able to tell she was a vampire from this distance, certainly.
"What do you think?" Elizabeth whimpered, as he ran his dirty hand up her back. She would have to have these clothes washed immediately now.
"How much do you cost?" He asked roughly, and she sensed his bloodlust.
"Let's talk about it in the back." She whispered in his ear. "In my special room." She explained, leading him to a back door she had seen earlier. She opened it up, and immediately flung him out the door, smashing him into the alleyway wall. He gasped as the air was knocked out of him and he broke a few ribs. She slammed the door to the brothel, quickly closing the space between her and the man, smashing her elbow against his throat, causing him to choke.
"You wanted to know what I cost?" She growled in his ear.
"Information." She said, and he shook his head, as it sunk in what she was. She shook her head right back. "What other vampires have you met in your travels!?" She demanded.
"I don't know... Anything!" He choked.
"Wrong answer." She said simply, throwing him against the wall again. She heard bones crack, and he screamed out. She needed to be quick.
"Tell me where the nests are and I'll let you live." She growled.
"I don't know!" He yelled. "I met another vampire, like you, near the London Tower, he looked like a godly fellow, but-" [i] [b] CRaaAcCk [/i] [/b].
Elizabeth cracked his neck, and he crumbled to the ground, blood splashing out of his mouth and onto the dirty ground. She made sure not to get any on her dress. She had a lead. Time to search for this "godly fellow". Not long later, Elizabeth was back in the coach, cruising slowly towards the London Tower.@lovely complex@Viciousmarrow

@lovely complex



When the woman steps back his full senses come back to him. He needs to work on his self control with women...it never ends well. He weighs his options mentally then nods. "I gladly accept your invitation madam...?" His velvety purr ends in a question, implying his asking for her name. He would need to tread carefully so as not to reveal himself as a vampire or a hunter.

That and he has a feeling this woman is a vampire...her scent is quite strong and she just..feels vampiric. He glances at the others discreetly inhaling and memorizing their scents...even though the plywood smell made him want to gag. He focuses back on the woman, going inside and waiting for her to enter before continuing. Hoping that she would give up her name...and possibly other information.

His eyes do not hold lust, but rather a hunger. He is a rather new vampire, so he is not quite used to consuming blood to survive. His strength gives him an advantage with his skills, but he does not flaunt it. So in this situation playing the innocent human seems the best ploy. Hopefully this woman does not suspect anything.

Lyla had escaped from the growing crowd that Magdalena had attracted, slinking into the Cabaret Voltaire unnoticed. She was immediately hit by the thick cloud of smoke inside, the pungent aroma of tobacco following suit. The place was packed, mostly filled with men from the upper reaches of society. Giant hats, fancy vests, and elegant pocket watches sat at mahogany tables, paying absolutely no mind to the modestly tall woman that milled about in a far corner. The dhampir was fascinated by what brought humans together. In this case, she had stumbled upon what looked to be a theater. Women would get up on stage, put on some kind of performance, and then the men...

"I'll pay 200 pounds for her!"

The bidding wars began. Lyla's face scrunched up in horror when the realization came to her. This wasn't exactly a theater... This was a palace for courtesans. Figuring this was no place for a lady like herself, she started back towards the door, only to see Magdalena and her new friends enter. Quickly, the young woman ducked behind one of the many pillars that boxed the center dining area in.

"Where the hell have you been, peasant girl?! You've been gone for hours! Get your ass on stage!" a gaudy, short man with a curled, black mustache approached the blond woman, immediately dragging her by the hand. "B-But-" She didn't have time to protest before she was led up a short flight of stairs. As this man forced her onward, she passed an ensemble of naked courtesans, freshening themselves up for their time on the stage in front of elongated mirrors. "Don't do anything stupid, you worthless bitch." he hissed at her before they exited two large, red curtains.

Lyla had no idea what was happening. Suddenly, she was on stage with this man, who seemed to be the owner of this business. The crowd was blanketed in darkness from where she stood, yet the dhampir could feel their stares, feel their heartbeats in tandem. Creeping nervousness gripped her, and she felt her hands start to shake. "Gentlemen, I bring you a new woman! She's tall, gorgeous, and boy, look at those hips! I've been told she'll do absolutely anything for her master... A very loyal specimen indeed! And she can be all yours tonight!" This man was trying to sell her like a piece of meat. There was a small murmur in the audience, but then the bidding began.

"10 pounds. She's too skinny."

"I can do 15. At least she's got a pretty face."

Lyla's already crippled self-esteem plummeted. Those bids were so low compared to some of the other women... Very visibly, she began to pant for air. Her body quivered, a feeling of light-headedness dawned up her, and sweat formed at the edge of her brow. The world was spinning around her. The voices in the crowd became a murmur in the back of her head as she stood there, paralyzed by her anxiety. She couldn't do this. She couldn't stand in front of all these people.

All she wanted to do was run away.

The night ticked slowly by as Thomas perused the library for a few minutes. Long enough for all the little ones to scurry along. To the untrained eye Thomas was merely looking at books when in reality he was testing the air for new scents. On his trips away from London they would acquire new members from time to time and it was always fun to follow up on the interesting scents. Striding past the stairs to the attic he picked up a more or less familiar scent, Burek, the german Vampiress. He could never remember the mad ones name. Continuing along he continued to scent: huckleberry, vanilla, vinegar, cinnamon. He stopped. That was a new one.

Backtracking to the bookshelves Thomas investigated. The scent was thickest here. Fascinating. This was a new one and something totally unique. At Least as much as he could remember this scent was unique. Do I investigate the nest? or Do I investigate the trail… Decisions, decisions, decisions. Thomas considered before he walked back and picked up his cane and scarf. Wrapping the scarf he walked out of the front of the apothecary. Carriage or no carriage? No carriage, it was easier to track on foot and besides the trail was running cold and it was easier to move quickly on foot to adjust accordingly.

With that Thomas disappeared into the night, time for a hunt. London was always a fun place to track; easier than Istanbul and Shanghai but still fun.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The red light district. Thomas stood on a rooftop inhaling slowly; taking in the surroundings as he continued to trail the new smell. He’d taken one of the books from the shelves where the scent was strongest. Inhaling again he scented once again. There it was, in the street headed towards a high class whore house? Interesting. “The plot thickens…” With a hop he fell the three stories to the street. Landing in a light crouch he swept into the street tilting his head to scent more. Still there...wait...that was something else there. Burek. Unbidden the image of the mad german swept into his mind, while hardly an unpleasant image the thought of the personality he knew was hidden underneath.

Stalking towards the door Thomas finally noticed the figure outside the door which confirmed his suspicions about the whole investigations. It was the working corpse that followed the Mad One around. Thomas seriously doubted that this individual had the mental capacity to remember him but at the same time it was always possible he did. No matter. Thomas pulled the scarf up over his lower face and walked towards the door. Gliding past Greg like a night breeze.

It felt good to be this old and an infected, it had its perks.

Cabaret Voltaire, hardly his usual haunt but the crest on his overcoat made people generally step aside; after all his family line was over 700 years old. Thomas snickered at that. It was amazing that no one had noticed that the heirs looked so much alike. Thomas had made sure to sufficiently change his appearance over the years, slowly greying his hair and receding from the public eye before re emerging as the new heir of the Craven family name. It was always fun to change like that. The mannerisms of course had to change as well which was always more of a pain. That and every time a damned monarch changed he had to relearn that too. Which also meant that slip ups like “Old Richard” were out as well; the repetitive names didn’t help either.

Finding himself a seat he inhaled slowly, oh yes. All the scents were here too. Scanning the crowd he positioned himself well away from other patrons, and with a clear view of the whole room. It was becoming difficult to pick out the scent of cinnamon with the scent of sex and all the living singing blood in the room. Thomas watched as one of the dressed up whores was lead off the block; two hundred pounds was not bad at all.

The next girl that the proprietor introduced was wholly out of place. The scent of cinnamon rolling off her was overwhelming. Thomas’ eyes narrowed at this discovery. Then they narrowed further as he could just barely pick out the edges of what appeared to be a brand on her neck. Then the bidding started. Ten, fifteen. The girl was fidgeting, Thomas could all but hear her heartbeat and see her squirm and sweat. You wanted to know and you have your answer, planning on doing anything fun?

Two hundred and fifty pounds.

The room went dead silent at the sound of Sir Craven’s inticing and yet frightening voice ringing out with an outrageous amount for the girl. Heads turned to look at the bidder only to meet ice blue eyes, catch the crest on his lapel before turning away. No one wanted to get involved with the House of Craven, there were strange rumors, no one wanted to find out the truth. Thomas sat back with a wolfish smile on his face. Now time to see exactly who had appeared in his absence over the last decade. Who was this girl, why was she here and why was the Mad One here

@Viciousmarrow @lovely complex @BlackPanther

Igraine arrived at the Royal Cafe drawing much attention due to her unusual sense of fashion. She was often mistaken as 'nouveau riche', since members of 'old money' had generational traditions teaching them how to subtly flaunt their wealth rather than engage in unsightly, gaudy extravagance. Quite frankly, she didn't care what these humans thought; they were cattle to be milked for their blood and nothing more. Maybe they could be turned into vampires, but what was the point of that? Why bless the cattle with vampirism, when vampires had the means to make more of their own? Though she harbored thoughts like these, she didn't make these thoughts public since most of the vampires she knew were 'turned', rather than born like herself.

It would have been difficult for Igraine to try to make her way into the Royal Cafe, high-end establishment that it was, they certainly wouldn't serve a 'child' who was not accompanied by a parent, but she didn't need to go inside. As Amaury's scent diminished, the scent of the coca increased, leading south. She wondered what fool would dare to pickpocket Lord Grangrel. Whoever it was, she'd kill him and bring back a piece of him as a trophy and offering to her father.

Following the scent trail, Igraine headed south passing within sight of Big Ben and began heading West. Now the trail she had been following was quite faint due to the passage of time, so she was surprised when the scent suddenly got much stronger; the trail was fresh, but it led backwards. With a renewed fervor, Igraine followed the new trail back towards the Clock Tower, and ending up in front of a pharmacy. This brought up so many questions in Igraine's mind: who stole the block, and why did they bring it here? Why did the trail renew? Did whoever stole it walk further and then retrace their steps? Perhaps they were stopped by a police, frisked, and then the police took the unknown substance to be analyzed at the pharmacy. Or maybe someone else is trying to synthesize it. Igraine goes through the front doors, the scent is incredibly strong to her vampire senses, as if the brick was right in front of her.

And there he stood, a handsome youth waiting at the counter non-chalantly, the block of coca sitting on the table as if it were some simple, harmless package. Igraine is practically stunned by how bizarre and out of place this situation was, the boy looked to simply be running a small errand, oblivious to the fact that the brick he carried spelled the difference between life and death for Igraine. Igraine reached for the long object she had slung over her shoulder, pulling a string in a knot and letting the string and the burlap covering fall to the ground, revealing a simple but deadly soldier's pike. Brandishing it, she called out, "Hey! Boy! You have something of mine!"

@Akai no Senshi

| Red Light district | @Lovely complex @BlackPanther @Themerlinhawk

"It's alright" Said the man as he straightened his clothes and kept with his conversation with the woman as if nothing had happened. How does he dare?! The young boy felt not only rejected, but also very very humiliated. Not everybody had interest in boys, he knew, but there was a difference between disinterest and plain impoliteness. Since when a British gentleman didn't offer his help to someone who had just fallen to the floor in front of him? Or at least ask "hey, are you ok?" But no, the selfish jerk only cared about him being alright, and cleaned his shoulder as if something dirty had touched him! If only he knew he was in front of the heir of the Liberté Household and high rank of the Noble House of Grangrel, he better kneel and kiss the floor! In any other circumstances Laurent would have just dragged him into an alleyway and fed on him until he died, but tonight he had to keep playing the good boy, so he tried his best to keep his anger at bay and flash an adorable and apologetic smile to his new companions.

"You work this area? Sad that little boy puts looks to waste."

He stared at the woman in confusion for a moment, and then realization came to him. She thought he was a male prostitute? Since when did sluts carry textbooks around? He was a student, a student!!!

"Work? No, no, no, no, no!" He shook his head with feigned embarrassment, as he thought it would fit his fake shy personality. "T-This is a misunderstanding! Please, don't say anything to my teachers..." He avoided her stare and looked shyly at the floor while he kept retrieving his scattered notes. He was just finishing when an unexpected stranger tended his hand to him.

Laurent was rather surprised. After the latest events he wasn't expecting anyone to come and pay him any attention. So he gently grabbed his hand and got up still not looking at the newcomer. "Thank you, sir." He said softly, trying to recover his pride as he wiped off some not so imaginary dust from his trousers. Though when he did look at Greg he couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. This wasn't exactly the gallant knight he was expecting, but rather the not so handsome servant of the extravagant lady he had met just a moment before.

"Master, I keep him?"

What???! Keep him?! Like a pet? What the hell...? This was definitely the weirdest group of people he had met in his lifetime. And on top of that he was staring at him as if he was something edible... He didn't know how to react. But then he had an idea.

"You want to keep me?" He asked with the most innocent expression he could make. This weird man didn't seem to be the smartest in the group, but for the first time in the night he had taken an interest in him. And what Laurent had come to get was an ally, even if he would have preferred the hot guy who happened to be a boob crazed jerk. This guy, Greg, looked much more easy to manipulate though. If he could make a pact with him, and maybe even with his lady, he wouldn't be alone in his quest for information. "Well, I could follow you around for a while." He said with a cute smile. With a nod, he accepted the woman's invitation to join her for dinner and gestured Greg to follow. "Ah, but I can't stay for too long. I'm here..." He looked around as if making sure that nobody could hear him and lowered his voice getting closer to his new friends. "... I'm here on a secret mission."

Hoping that they would get at least a bit curious, he didn't say anything else and entered the Cabaret, following a well dressed man that... Oh, how surprising... Had ignored him again. What the f*ck happened to all the guys that night?!! Men didn't appreciate pretty faces anymore, or was he losing his vampiric charm? In any case, he was beginning to feel annoyed. But the man still picked Laurent's curiosity. The boy couldn't tell if he was a vampire, but he could definitely feel his strong aura. He was a powerful individual. Though his admiration didn't last long, as he saw him a few minutes later bidding high for a plain, flat chested peasant girl. Laurent strongly disliked filthy men who paid for sex. And yes, that included an obvious disapproval to his own Master's behavior.

"I'll never understand their fascination with whores..." He spoke to himself pouting slightly in discomfort. Hopefully his next task won't be at the red light district...

Once Lorenzo was back with his teammates he thought of what they would do to help his uncle otherwise known as the elder. They couldn't go to the hospital to get fresh blood bags because that is somewhat friendly territory to them. Stealing their blood would make it seem like an act of betrayal or an act to declare war obvious it was to dangerous to try. However he knew that they had another option to get fresh blood and that was the asylum. The literal loony bin had patients that would be strapped to beds so harvesting their blood shouldn't be to hard. "alright everyone since you all did so well we are going to go and harvest some meals for our brethren. We wont be going to the hospital since its on an allies turf so we will be heading to the asylum instead. When we get their I don't want any of you killing them remember our values we will show mercy to them so only harvest one bag of blood from each person you find. Remember if they aren't strapped then leave them be." Lorenzo explained as they all nodded and followed Lorenzo as he walked through the streets making a few twists and turns until they got to the asylum and Lorenzo nodded to each of them to get going and not do anything stupid Lorenzo couldn't let any of them get in trouble or it would be on his head to...

While in her closet by the front door, preparing an order of Arcanum Corallinum, a lovely red powder to treat her friend with dropsy (known as edema nowadays), Madame Mirela Fortworth's ears perked up at the sound of a visitor. New customers are always nice. Closing her eyes, she took a deep inhale in, not to catch the scent of whoever just walked in, but to picture them through the spirits that resided in the building. Her grey eyes flickered open and as they twitched, fog fell over the irises like a veil. She watched a human boy of seventeen wait patiently for her, and lay a peculiar, white substance on the counter. His aura was dark yellow with tinges of brown. He was someone who was pressured to achieve goals and impress someone, a tired soul but with the goal to get what he wanted at all cost. He was unbeknownst of the dangers that could happen by stepping into her home with ill intentions. However, his nature was good and his knowledge of the area was limited... this boy was someone who truly sought her skills, even if he held a pistol that could make anyone suspicious of him.

Her pharmacy was a simple, establishment that provided remedies to calm or temporarily halt sickness but scientist still had a lot of research to do, in terms of understanding health and disease. The main reason why this pharmacy was the most well renown in London was because of Madame's gift of mediumship. People needed to be connected to the spirit realm and Madame was able to bring solace for both the living and the dead. Some people had sicknesses that would lead to their inevitable death, but she was able to help a man accept his fate with a smile.

Even vampires sought her wisdom. Just because they had a near immortal life didn't mean they would be able to forget their own humanity. The thing about vampires, which a lot of them overlook, is no one, human and vampire alike, can truly forget the person he or she was (or are). No one can forget their past. No one can forget about their humanity. Sure, a person can be the worst, seemingly heartless serial killer to date, but at the end of the day, when he's all alone... he still has a mind to brood over his next kill, he still has a spirit that feels. A lonely spirit that inspires him to kill because of his inability to separate his humane nature from himself. That's what humans and vampires have in common: a spirit.

She did not hold magical powers, even if a "witch" is what people would call her. Due to the needy nature of mankind, no one was going to send her to the gallows. Her sixth sense of feeling the dead and being able to communicate with them was something passed down in her family from generation to generation.

Mirela was given an Orgonite, Black Tourmaline crystal necklace to protect this place and herself from evil spirits, which was given to her by the man she adored the most. She came from Romani descent, though her red hair was rare for her kind. Her parents had said it was a sign from the spirits. Unfortunately for them, Mirela had been blessed with an unnatural keen eye and knowledge beyond her years. At quite a young age, she knew she was a product of infidelity and that her late father descended from the Gauls. However, she continued to live the way she was raised: like a Romany Gypsy. She wore a teal, grey, white, gold skirt with a 3 row coin sash, fine jewelry for her ears, neck, wrists, ankles, forehead, and a Renaissance top that exposed her robust stomach.

Her vision moved away from the boy and to a new figure that entered the Pharmacy. The female who looked fourteen but had eyes of a ruthless killer. Her aura was a combination of dark pink and cloudy blue, revealing she still had a lot of growing up to do, but also that her desire for control was and always has been her security blanket.

Unveiling a deadly soldier's pike, the tiny girl began threatening her customer, "Hey! Boy! You have something of mine!"

Oh this won't do.

Snapping back to the physical realm, Madame Fortworth covered the jar of red powder and sighed. With her grace and dignity, she slunk into the other room and crept behind the Loli vampire. Mirela went beside the girl and pressed downward in her clavicle causing a striking pain to run through the girl's body, who immediately dropped to her knees, "Observation is key. You still have a lot to learn, Igraine."

Afterwards, she tapped at two nerve points on her back causing the girl to enter a state of paralysis. She wouldn't be able to speak or move, but she could see what was going on around her.

Madame Fortworth took the pike out of the girl's frozen grip and put it to the side, "Don't worry. You'll get that back soon enough."

She turned her attention to the boy, not forgetting he had a dangerous weapon on his person, "Looks like your package attracts Grangrels." Walking away from Igraine, she cautiously approached the boy, "You have a few options. Shoot me, her, draw attention to this shop, brand yourself as a murderer, and have enemies that surpass you in every way, shape, and form." She laid her hand out for him to give her the pistol, "Another option you have is running away. But know this... you won't get very far." Her eyes glanced passed him to reveal a tall figure waiting in the darkness of the back room, "Or, the best option in my opinion, you can trust me, do exactly as I say, and I promise you, you will leave this place with exactly what you want." Her stormy eyes locked into his as she gave him a reason to accept her offer.

Smiling, Mirela revealed who she was,"I am Madame Fortworth. You and me, boy. We're not so different. You're an exceptional human, and I am too."

Not waiting for a response, she blew a strange, neon green powder into his face. The tall, mysterious figure approached Igraine, the candlelight revealing the face of Marc Ravnos. He loomed over the tiny vampire for a moment before lancing a finger at her temple.
[Both of your characters should be unconscious now.]

---

The two captives wake up in a clean, modestly lit cell. They stand across from each other, tied to a separate pole. Augustus is bound with rope, while Igraine is held by thick chains. Ravnos sits before them in a chair, reading a huge grimoire. At his feet lie Igraine's pike and Augustus' pistol.