Elle

In the office room, you could hear a record playing. Scratchy, repetative, and yet you almost needed to swing your shoulders to it. Elle had her feet on her desk, black pumps swinging to the music. Her platinum hair was wrapped up neatly, as her mouth vigorously devoured the young woman that lay across her lap. Lifting her head up, the main artery leaks onto her hands, inhaling a deep breath. She pushes her head to face the cieling, letting it drip down her chin, her neck, and onto her blue collared button down.
The girl had gone limp by now, nearly drained.
"I feel absolutely lovely," Elle smiles, legs swinging down, pushing the girl off of her. The body hits the floor with a thump, while Elle leans back in her chair, wiggling her hips to the music that was playing.

"Miss Woodson?" A man peaks his head into the office. "Are you finished with your lunch?"
"I am indeed, Farren. It was exquisite!" she giggles, clearly a bit over taken by the live feeding.
"Would you still like to continue with your meetings for today?"
"Of course! Why not?"
"You're a bit... messy." By now, Farren had fully stepped into the room, picking the body up from the floor.
"I'll clean myself up, and we will presume," Elle says, slamming her hands down on the desk.

Once Farren exits, Elle rolls her eyes. "Priorities, priorities," she mumbles to herself, standing up to change the record. There was nothing quite the same as records, Elle felt. Music felt so much more intimate coming from a vinyl.

A new song begins, and while she opens a side door of the office she begins to redress, removing the stained blue top. She throws it into a pile of shirts from that week, ruined all the same. They were beginning to smell like dead corpses, which reminded her to tell Farren they needed to be cleaned. She puts on a satin pink one in exchange, but leaves the blood on her face. She wanted to continue to enjoy that feeling. Mmm, the heartbeat on her lips, the flow between her teeth, so warm! She sways, humming to the record.

A knock comes at the door and she sighs, "Who is it?"

Ingrid

Ingrid sat in her family's shop, doing some school work. She attended the local community college, as her mother had wished, but it was still a pain to keep up with. Nothing in school really appealed to her, and she always felt like she was changing majors. But yet, there was nothing more normal for a girl her age than to go to school and get a degree. Most of the girls she had gone to high school with had done the same thing.

The shop wasn't ever very busy, and usually anyone who walked through the door wasn't looking for what was on the shelves. Ingrid had considered, time and time again, to close the shop all together, send a message to the wolves, tell them she wasn't up for all they demanded. But something in her told her it would be wrong, especially with the war coming. They would really need Ingrid's help at some points, she knew this. She just had to be stern, she could not be too involved.

The bell rang through the store, smell of the street sweeping through the thick smell of incense and candles that plagued the store. A refreshing break for Ingrid, really. The sound meant someone had come into the store.
She looked towards the door, waiting to see that someone.

"Private investigation. Please hold."

"Umm Hi. She's not in right now, can I take a message? Mhmm...Oh okay. I'll be sure to get that back to her. Thank you."

"Rebecca Valentine's office. This is Cammie. Umm...just a second."

Sitting behind the desk of a small business office, decorated with small paintings of various landscapes and a few worldly trinkets here and there, she sighed with relief, finally able to set the phone down, but only to scoot back the slightly plush leather chair from the desk and stand on her feet, giving a stretch and a little yawn exposing her tiny daggers of ivory glinting in her mouth. Happily the strange girl hummed to herself ambling down the hallway, turning left towards a door and gently nudging it open with a resounding creak. Her eyes, shiny emeralds, even in the dim candlelit glow of the room, trailed from the large, elegant dresser over to the queen sized bed, where upon it slept a woman with fiery red hair, a bit tousled from her tossing and turning in her somewhat peaceful slumber, her lips parting slightly to give a small glimpse of her own fangs as incoherently she mumbled turning over again.

The girl giggled to herself and slipped into the room, climbing onto the bed and giving the woman a little shake, "Mistress, It's time to wake up."

~"Mngh....Wha...what?"~, The woman stirred raising her head from her pillow and turned over to look upon her young servant with tired yet piercing blue eyes, as blue as ice they appeared to the girl. ~"Already? But I was just having a wonderful dream?"~ She yawned rubbing her eyes and stretching. Cheerily the girl asked, "Ooh! Was I in it, Mistress?"

~"But of course you were, sweetie."~ The woman purred with a wry smile. ~"And Camille, you don't have to call me Mistress. You're not my slave, darling."~ A sly wink she gave before slipping out of bed, dressed in only a silk negligee but it soon fell to the floor, revealing her decadent figure in all its majesty.

Of course, she didn't seem to mind the girl observing her bare splendor. After all, they were quite...close, to put it in better words. "Umm...o-okay, Rebecca." A warm hue of rose finding its way to her cheeks, Camille answered. Rebecca smiled all the more and sauntered to her dresser, pulling out a black lace bra and a pair of matching panties before slipping into them and making her way to her closet. Twas no surprise what her outfit would be, casual yet with a professional modesty. As she buttoned up her blouse, Rebecca asked of her cute servant, ~"Were there any calls while I was asleep?"~

"Just a few." Camille answered, pondering for a moment drumming her dainty fingers against her lips, "Hmmm...Oh! There was some man calling for you. He didn't leave a name, but said it was important you meet with him. He left an address and a time. 2:15 AM at Fifth and Mattherson." Her eyebrow rose slightly at the message given.

~"Odd."~Rebecca mused sitting on the edge of her bed, slipping her feet into her black heels. Who would want to meet with her so late and also...why wouldn't they leave a name but some address?

Fifth and Mattherson, there was nothing there but an old construction yard. It was meant to be a shopping mall, but according to some...sources Rebecca knew, construction halted after a rather grim incident. She read the case files, happily borrowed from city police. Twas just as she assumed, bodies drained of their blood, horrific wounds on the neck indicating teeth. The attacks were only growing worse, and from the way things felt to the woman, the place was swarming with Nosferatu....swarming...with her kind.

A rather dull and monotonous evening it was to be for them, not a single call coming in, nor any message at all.

As Rebecca sat at her desk sipping on some tea with honey and chamomile and skimming over a few appropriated case files from the city police, her brow furrowed a little and quietly she mused to herself, These attacks have been rampant here late. It's as though something's provoking them to lash out so violently. Another vampire perhaps? No...couldn't be. Folly it was for Nosferatu to commit their crimes in the public eye. She took a small sip of her tea and sat it aside. Meanwhile, her servant, Camille, a rather eccentric young girl with blue hair, was dusting the shelves full of her antiques gathered from her journeys around the world, happily humming to herself. Rebecca eyed the young vampire for a moment and smiled lightly before turning back to the files. It didn't make sense to her, vampires striking willy nilly, a city gripped in absolute fear of being out during the night, and rumors that perhaps there were more than just Nosferatu lurking about the harrowed streets and mausoleum filled cemeteries of old N'awlins. Intriguing yes, but at the same time it left her bewildered.

Setting the files aside, she stood from the desk about to yawn, but stifled it when her phone began to ring, catching her off guard. "Ah! I'll get it!" Cammie tried to reach for the phone, but already her mistress' hand was upon it, a soft smile given to the young girl as Rebecca answered, ~"Private Investigation, who is this I'm speaking to? Officer Hurst, how are you on this wonderful evening? Files? Why...no I'm quite sure I don't have them. What would make you say that I presume?"~ A sly wink she gave to her servant, Cammie giggling softly. ~"Perhaps you misplaced them then. Oh but thank you for reminding me. I've been meaning to ask you of those few cases. The bodies are still in the morgue, are they not? Of course it is not my business, but...a detective is still a detective, even if she does not carry a badge like you, good sir. So they are then. Yes of course, I'll stop sticking my nose where it shouldn't be. Mhmm...you have a wonderful night as well, Officer Hurst. Take care then."~ As she hung up the phone, her pleasant smile faded into a bothersome scowl across her lips, vigorously massaging her temples with her frail fingers. ~"Honestly, I don't know how I put up with such a stubborn mortal. Camille, sweetheart, I think it's time you and I took a little field trip."~

"No, yeah I understand. Not me, it's you, no really, it's fine. We're good. Friends? Oh, yeah, sure, sure... Huh? Oh yeah, haha... Happy Valentine's Day to you too Ashley. See ya around." Kyle sighed as he ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Well, it was a good two months. Perk up buddy, you're gonna be alright. New Orleans had been a bust so far for him. He hadn't really been getting along well with the people at his school, which was unusual for him. He was the popular kid at his old school, being a football star and a whiz kid. He mixed well with everyone. Here, no one seemed to have any personality. He would try to strike up conversations with others, but they always seemed disinterested. Like they viewed him as an alien or something. Finding a girl to talk to was a problem as well.

He had resorted to Tinder for his dating life, and most of the time the girls were just there for hook ups. Kyle didn't mind it, but being socially isolated made him long for a conversation rather than a pretty face. His best bet so far was Ashley, but it fell through with her. He thought maybe things would turn around, he had even planned a surprise Valentine's day dinner for her.

"Ah well, I'll just have leftovers for tomorrow." Kyle said, swinging the bag of groceries he bought. "Maybe there's something around here to pick me up." Kyle's eyes wandered to the buildings around him. Apparently he had gotten to the weird side of New Orleans, as the shops gave off a Voodoo-y vibe. He had heard of the stories, how this was the biggest place for all these magic creepy crawlies to live and thrive, but he was a skeptic. If there were such creatures and magic, he figured he would have already been attacked on one of his nightly bike rides back from work. One store in particular caught Kyle's gaze. He couldn't make out the name of the store, but he thought he read "magic accessories sold here" on one of the signs.

"I could use a good luck charm, it won't hurt to poke around." Kyle strolled on over to the store and opened the door, and a bell chimed. Kyle was immediately hit be a large influx of exotic smells, some he had never smelled before. Instinctively he covered his nose, to shield it from anything else that crept up his nose. He looked over to the counter to see a red headed girl, reading a book and her eyes pointed towards him. He lowered his arm, realizing that his actions could have been taken as rude.

(@ribcageroses Ingrid)

"Hello," Kyle said, voice cracking. Shit. Why are you so scared? The girl looked normal enough to Kyle, but the strange look of the inside of the store put him on edge. Maybe he made a mistake in walking into this store. He looked around at the shelves, hoping to try and make the girl forget about his initial display of fear. He made a gesture in a general direction of the products. "These... things... look cool."

(contains adult language)

If you live long enough, you go insane eventually. We all do. That was one of the few forboading elements of wisdom his father had given him ages ago. God only knew how long Gabriel had been around. The old vampire was so psychotic that he had gone 360 degrees and was almost sounding rational again. Mithas had of course denied the statement for years, centuries even. It wasn't the idealized future he had envisioned for himself, yet the very possibility of it plagued him like a curse, bending him into a cycle of questioning and self doubt that ironically would drive him insane, and he knew it. What a bitch.

But perhaps that condemming future was getting closer than he realized. For countless generations, he had watched his human family line, never able to interact with them directly without risking devastating consequences, only ever to admire and protect from afar, torn by need to be what he is and desire to live as they do. Eventually enough time went by and enough branches had splintered off that even he couldn't tell to whome he was blood-related anymore, that is, if his blood was at all remotely still human. He had to let them go. His love for humanity dragged on for a time after that, but it too began to fade over such lengths of time. A pride lingered, yet eventually he was faced with nothing but his own immortal reflection, the only thing that was lasting as humans came and went in their cycle of life. Only he alone never changed, never aged, never flirted with the girls, and never died. He wasn't human anymore. He wasn't a member of the many leaves in the wind, destined to fall with the change of season and pass away into dust, forgotten. He was something more akin to an element of nature, eternal, a god, and it was an interest in other gods now that took the attention of Mithias Varomere.

It was he that kept his finger on the pulse of the city, the ebb and flow of other supernatural beings who came near to his present home, in Louisiana. He knew of the formation of the younger generation of vampires into factions, or in other words, modern covens, and he knew of the brewing war with the scattered wolves that came south to explore and claim these territories. It was stupid, what they were all doing. In a way he felt above it, probably how his maker had felt for a long time, yet Mithias didn't have as much power to back up his claim to independence. Nonetheless, he still sought it. Without getting involved, he would remain free. Yet, without interacting with the world, he would remain lifeless, pointless, and as good as dead.

He jumped off the rooftop and into a dark ally.

----------

A knock comes at the door and she sighs, "Who is it?"

The door didn't immediately open, and for a vampire with enhanced perception of time, a strike in the predictable timing of things was like a bomb going off in the room. Elle's senses triggered and she suddenly became keenly aware of every sound, every scent, and every shift in the movement of molecules in the air around her. It was oddly quiet out there, even for an office. ... What the living fuck was going on?

Just as her mind began to supress the first thought of panic that began to rise up her spine, the doorknob began to turn. Fucking Farren was probably just being passive-aggressive again. Surely he deserved a swift reminder of his place, shovenistic twerp that he was. As the wheels turned in her mind, converting alarm to rationale and denying the possibility that there was any significant danger, a face that she didn't recognize was revealed behind the opening door.

Long black hair draped over broad shoulders from either side of a soft black hat. Cool white skin and reddened lips caught the artificial light in the room as the edge of the hat lifted above black brows to reveal a piercing, animalistic gaze in vivid gold. The eyes were wild like a creature that had never known captivity, yet too well defined to belong to a werewolf. A fear shot through her as she realized she did not know this vampire how now stared at her like prey. Everything she though had been protecting her had failed, every alarm, every member of the office staff, every camera...

Farren's body lie on the floor in the backround, blood on his neck, and the warm scent of fresh blood wafted into the room.

Two sharp swords slept under eigher side of his long jacket as he straightened himself in gentlemanly fashion. Sharp white points could be seen behind his lightly parted lips. Was he that fucking brazen? Who did this asshole think he was? Did he seriously come alone?! Fear and anger melded into an empowering blur. How dare he... like this asshat has any rank... he was tall and intimidating, with an aura like an unknown king, yet how could she admit it? She could sense something about him, that he had a spirit like a cross between a wild creature and a knight, yet she could not read his mind. It was like a slate of black, hidden from her. What a horror to be just standing there, not knowing what this intruder intended. Would he dare kill her?

Mithias stared at her. "Miss Woodson." He said, and he thought about how her blood would taste. Chances were he was just going to kill her and cut down on the newblood vampire scum in these parts. The last thing he wanted was a assembled angry pack of werewolves raiding near his residence. He glanced at the recently fed upon human girl behind her. He really felt nothing for her. The werewolves were really so much more valuable, given their longevity and kindred spirits. Nature had nobility, something imparted to those who lived under her rules, such as werewolves. Mithias had always been intirgued by them and didn't want them necessarily getting discovered by humans, or wiped out by vampires. "You really are a right cunt, aren't you?" He said softly.

@jeroukoo

Ingrid gave the boy a small smile, before returning to her work. His reaction was common, it didn't phase her much anymore. A few pings on her computer and she would groan. Deadlines, deadlines, they would be the death of this girl. The werewolves were nothing in comparison at this point.

The boy spoke up and she looked towards him. He wasn't in good view, so she was forced to hop away from the register and join him in the aisle.
"Wish bones are pretty neat, if you can break them up properly. Takes practice." Ingrid looks to the bag of triangular bones in a small translucent bag, purple ribbon tying it closed.

The store was full of eccentric things. Odd smelling candles, fabrics, incenses, bath salts, gag "magic" books, different bird feathers, skeletons of tiny, common animals in jars. It was quite the store, and it was clear the boy had no idea what he was walking into. Volleyte wasn't an obvious enough name for him, to know the store may hold eccentric items.

"Are you looking for anything in particular? I can help you find it." She gave him a costumer pleasing smile. Either this boy was lost or was a new runner for the wolves, a pledge for position, and was being sent on new errands. It wasn't exactly comfortable to blurt out "hey are you a witch?" so she stayed patient. He looked a bit young though, so she couldn't be sure.

@Wraithblade6

Elle instantly became aware of the high stake situation that was seeping through the door. The smell of spilled blood, dark and metallic, stiffened up her nose. Vampire blood was flowing over the tiles, but who the hell was charging in here like that?

They would taunt her with the door, only making her impatient, and frankly, angry. It was a way to instill fear, make her scamper. But slowly coming down from the drunken high of her lunch, she stood, straightening out her skirt.

In waltzed a man with long hair, who glimmered a sense of ancient time, like he was here to be a valiant criminal. An old head, in Elle's view, one around her mother's age who didn't agree with organization, or really just sat around too long and needed trouble.

"I'd address you as well, but I don't know your name." She peeks behind him to a dead Farren and almost wanted to giggle, a bit pleased. "Youre making quite an entry and I must say, you've made me feel a little.. hot," she fans herself.
"Now would you like to take a seat, or are you here to chop my head as well?" She gives him a knowing smile. She was satisfied. It had been a bit since Elle had seen much action outside of the office, let alone, in it. She could go for a little steamy tiff. Although, she wasn't the biggest fan of vampire blood. Too rusty in the back of the throat, she felt.

Elle motions to the chair in front of her desk.

Pulling up to the building, she killed the ignition on her car and stepped out throwing on her long grey coat, as it was a rather chilly night, and it was bound to be bone chilling once they were inside the main facility. The dimly lit sign said it all, Morgue, flickering and buzzing incessantly, producing a rather eerie chill that crept up and down the woman's spine. Cammie was the first to walk right up to the building, holding the door open for her mistress before skipping inside herself. They approached the front desk, the man behind it, dressed in slightly sullen scrubs, skimming with tired, lethargic eyes through a newspaper before crumpling it slightly and turning towards them. "Yes?" He inquired a bit snarky. Rebecca paid it no mind however, ~"Hello there. I was hoping to identify a body. I run a private detective firm here in the city. Rebecca Valentine, and this is my assistant, Camille."~

"Hi!" Camille smiled brightly and waved, yet even a face as warming as hers, at least warming to her mistress, couldn't even get to this sour bastard, "Sorry, but I can't allow anybody to view the corpses unless they're official police detectives. Now then, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to my break." Coldly he whisked the newspaper back to his face, barely noticing the scowl on Rebecca's, but that scowl turned into a rather amusing smirk as she spoke again, ~"Oh heavens. How could I forget. We are on official police business, from detective Johnathan Hurst."~ He wouldn't recognize it as he stared at her again, but Camille did instantly, trying her best to stifle a giggle. In a matter of seconds, the man happily obliged them, "Oh right. We just received a call from Hurst here recently. Said he would be sending a representative in his place. Please, follow me miss Valentine. We've got two of the bodies in the freezer right now, but one's still on the slab for viewing."

~"Why thank you, kind sir."~ Rebecca spoke eloquently and followed behind the man down the hall with Camille beside her. "That's a really neat trick, Mistress." Excitedly the girl whispered. "You'll have to teach me how to do that."

Rebecca smirked, ~"Perhaps another time, sweetie. Right now, we're about to embark on another hunt, and something tells me these attacks aren't sporadic. If my assumptions are correct, these youngbloods are possibly being provoked to strike out towards the mortal populous, either by a coven lord or...some other outside influence."~

"Well, here she is. Quite a sight, isn't it?" Walking into the morgue, it already felt like the temperature dropped to zero as they entered the room, and wafting in the chilled air was the pungent odor of formaldehyde and bleach, a clean scent yet it burned the woman's nostrils. "We've still have yet to identify the cause of death, but according to police reports, the victim was allegedly drained of blood, but then again, with a gaping hole like that in her neck, I'm not surprised if she had bled out."

Rebecca sighed and shook her head softly, barely paying any mind to the medical examiner. Her attention was mostly on the dead blonde resting on the slab. ~"She have a name?"~ Rather blunt she asked. The examiner replied, "Not yet. She's pretty much a Jane Doe until we get a hold of her family. You know her?"

Rebecca shook her head, ~"I'm afraid not. She's beautiful though."~ The examiner chuckled, "Yep, she's a looker alright. Anyway, I'll leave you and your assistant to your work. Got some reports I need to fill out for the coroner. If you need anything, just holler." Rebecca smiled sincerely, ~"Will do, good sir. Thank you."~

As he left the room though, Rebecca and Camille kept an eye on him until he was gone. Once they were sure the coast was clear, that's when they went to work. Rebecca gave a slight nod to the blue haired girl and stood back as she approached the dead woman slowly and gently set her hand on her forehead, closing her eyes.

"I....I can hear her. She's afraid." In a whisper Camille spoke. Rebecca crossed her arms and returned, ~"Tell her she's safe. We're not here to hurt her."~ Camille nodded lightly, her eyes still closed. It was amazing to the woman, Camille's gift, to see beyond the boundaries of the mortal realm and to commune with those who remained on the cusp between, caught between the living....and the dead. Rebecca frowned a bit concerned however as Camille's hand trembled shortly, not really a good sign.

"She's fading away. I-I might lose contact soon." Hesitant Cammie stammered. ~"Then ask her who it was who killed her. Hurry, we need to know."~

Camille nodded, but soon her eyes shot open and she gasped falling to her knees, her emeralds gleaming bright...almost inhuman. ~"Camille!"~ Rebecca quickly caught her in her arms and pulled her into a hug. ~"Are you okay, darling? What happened?"~ She held the girl close to her, a deep concern wavering in her ice blue eyes. A tad weary Camille answered her, her voice a little raspy, "I-I'm okay, Mistress, but I...I lost her..."

Rebecca, though disappointed by the news, tenderly kissed her servant's cheek and whispered, ~"Don't worry, sweetie. We'll try to contact her again."~ But more grim news had to follow from Camille, "I...I can't anymore, Rebecca... I'm sorry..."

~"W-what...what do you mean?"~ Rebecca asked, her brow furrowing. Camille answered frowning, a bit of a mist in her eyes, "She...she's been pulled into the void. I can't contact any souls after they've left the firmament between our realms, and....even if I could, she's too afraid to speak to me, because...." She didn't even have to say it. Rebecca already knew why anyone, living or dead would be terrified of them. ~"Shhhh...it's okay, Camille."~ Softly she spoke comforting her young servant. ~"Were you able to discover her killer?"~ Camille shook her head slowly and breathed leaning into the woman's touch to her cheek, "She faded before I could, but..she did give me her name."

~"What was it?"~

"Meredith...Meredith Hines."

Meredith Hines...Rebecca knew not that name, nothing of the sort either that could connect her to a vicious and heinous attack such as the poor girl had endured. Still, it was a clue at least. ~"Here..."~ The woman sighed reaching for the scalpel upon the table, carving the surgical steel into her wrist and bringing it dripping with her blood to the youngling's lips. ~"Drink. You need your strength, my dear."~ Camille lapped at the wound a little before her small fangs extended and she bit into her lady's wrist, quietly sucking on her flesh and taking in her crimson nourishment. It pained the elder vampire at first, but gently she smiled and petted Camille, running her fingers through her hair.

Whatever Meredith was attacked by, it was still out there, preying upon its next gruesome endeavor. And wherever it may lurk, whether it be vampire or some other ghastly horror of the damned, Rebecca would find it...and most certainly, she would kill it.

"If I wanted your head, you never would have seen me." The vampire never took his golden eyes off her as he moved toward the desk. As much as hearing this reassured her of her present safety, it was simultaneously irritating and insulting. This jackass had some nerve underestimating her like that, daring to imply that she couldn't defend herself. How sweet it would be to see that flashy black mane of his dangling from a pike.

A white fairly clawed finger casually lifted the pin of the recordplayer, ending the pleasant jazz that had been filling up the background. The void of silence left behind added a slam of stark realism to the present moment, a reminder that Elle was in all actuality, in real danger. "Don't take me for a houseguest, Miss Woodson. I broke into your abode and slaughtered your compatriots, and I might still kill you." He withdrew his hand to his side, leaving the record spinning silently. The swords were only centimeters away from the fiend's grasp. They weren't exactly blessed oak stakes, but a strike to the heart or decapitation would still be lethal to a vampire. At least, having to deal with them would hurt like a bitch. Nonetheless, the vampire clearly wasn't going to sit down. ...the rude motherfucker didn't even take off his hat.

"I don't care that you kill your prey, or roam where you wish, or feign superiority over your infantile kindred, but I do care that you incite the ire of our distant cousins, the werewolves." Mithias curled back his lips and seethed his words through his nearly-clenched teeth in emphasis. "You.. have... NO IDEA... of their capacity for revenge. The ancient packs of the North could overtake this entire hemisphere." He tried to make her understand the severity of their situation. Killing other immortals wasn't really his thing, not anymore, but if their ambitions blinded them to reason, then he'd have to. "These whelps you murder and play with in the streets of the human city are mere shadows to their forefathers. You..."

A sharp, yet beautiful, crisp bell cracked into the peaceful air that had just been carrying the vampire's male voice. An old-style porcelain telephone that had taken up the corner of Miss Woodson's desk began to ring its dutiful song... Coils and wires suddenly sprang out as the bells clamored a death-scream. Two halves of the former phone bounced off the desktop and fell to the floor, permanently quieted.

Seeing a blade in his right hand, Elle realized she didn't even see Mithias move before the phone was destroyed. Quickly, he had his eyes back on her. Mithias straightened, and he realized, it was time for him to leave.

"Heed my warning, coven leader, or you will learn my name." Not really having much more to add, or to destroy, Mithias turned around and headed out the office door and to a fire escape. He just... walked off. No flirting, no charisma, no calling card. Fucking self-righteous oldbloods, if that's even what he was. Couldn't he just schedule an appointment like everybody else? Certainly he lived around here. He could be followed, found out for what he was, and given a little taste of hell. Outdated creeps like him needed to die out already.

@ribcageroses Ingrid

The girl at the counter gave Kyle a warm smile, and that put him somewhat at ease. The overall vibe of the shop still made Kyle uneasy, and he was wondering why he hadn't just left the store after walking in. But something compelled him to stay. He didn't what it was, but as much as the materials on the shelf disturbed him, they also enticed his curiosity. It's alright, stay cool, just browse around, maybe you'll find something cool here. Kyle exhaled and looked at the shelves around him.

A clicking and whirring of a computer broke Kyle's concentration, and before he knew it the girl at the counter was no longer the girl at the counter. Now she was girl in the aisle. Kyle's nerves began to work up again.

"Wish bones are pretty neat, if you can break them up properly. Takes practice." The spoke, fairly normally. He expected some thick New Orlean accent, but she didn't seem to have one at all. "Are you looking for anything in particular? I can help you find it."

Alright Kyle, relax. Don't tense up. The shop's strange, but it's nothing magical or anything. Just... act normally. Kyle gave her a normal smile, not as tense as the one he gave before. "Oh yeah, I'm just looking for some ingredients for my next love potion, ya know?" He said, looking around at the shelves once again. He thought humor would be the best way to relax himself, and make him seem not as awkward to the girl. "Got anything here for that?"

The cut wasn't deep on her wrist, but at least enough to draw a good amount of blood from her veins, of which her adorable thrall partook of rather needily and was now well nourished. Rebecca however, she would need a fresh IV bag full of crimson nectar...and perchance a vodka and tonic to follow it up.

While she wrapped her wrist in a roll of gauze she found in a desk near the examining table, her servant remained beside the dead girl, a concerning frown crossing Camille's lips and a sigh that followed, "Why...why was she afraid of me?" Rebecca, she knew the answer well, but didn't want to say anything to dampen the youngling's spirits. She looked to the woman as a little wolf pup who lost her mother, her eyes glistening with what Rebecca assumed well enough...evidence of her inner pain. ~"Perhaps she was surprised maybe, that someone from beyond the void noticed her."~ Rebecca cooed sauntering up behind the girl and resting her hands on her shoulders. ~"The dead must feel lonely, able to see others...but never reach out to them as you have, my dear. It's quite a gift you have."~ She supposed so, Camille, softly curling her lips and bringing her small hand to feel of her lady comforting her. "I guess..." The girl mused. "Mistress, what do you think it was that killed her?"

~"A vampire I would assume."~ Rebecca answered. ~"New Orleans is their breeding ground. It all began with the coven lord Lestat de Lioncourt, back in the early 1800s. This attack was from a thrall no less. No elder or lord in their right mind would instigate such a violent attack in the public eye. The wound is too grievous as well, as though the creature gnawed at her flesh before drinking her dry, a common trope among younglings."~ Camille nodded lightly as if to agree, not really knowing much of the unknown world surrounding her, a world the woman she served dutifully brought her into, of vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural beings and occurrences, but then again, the girl did have a bit of insight into the unforeseen. After all, before Rebecca turned her, she already knew of her....peculiar second sight.

"So it's only the young ones...who are violent?" She inquired tilting her head a little to see her mistress behind her. Rebecca returned, rather stating fact, ~"Mostly sweetheart. It's a common occurrence among youngbloods. They don't know how to control their lust. It overtakes them, turns them into...say...the modern equivalent of a drug addict. Even when properly nourished, they continue to starve for blood and seek it out...by whatever means."~ She paused though and chuckled quietly, ~"But you're the little exception to this, Camille. You've managed to tame yourself, even without my guidance."~

"I guess I...never really felt the urge...Rebecca." Camille replied, a soft hue of pink glowing amidst the fair pallor of her skin. "Mistress?" She asked, turning around to face the woman with her emerald eyes, gazing into the frozen hue of Rebecca's, "When....when you were first turned....did you ever act like this? Killing people...and...drinking their blood?"

Her words....even from such cute lips as hers, they were like daggers to the woman's heart, sharp...serrated daggers that carved into her flesh with such pain...such melancholy. Rebecca bit her lip and glanced off to the side, as not to show the concern welling in her eyes, but damned she be if her voice didn't betray her as she sighed deeply and slipped her hands a little down the girl's arms, ~"I....I cannot deny that I have given into my desires many times in my youth, that I have indulged this animalistic urge...and taken lives with it. Even I, try as I have for these many past moons to quell my wretched bloodlust, even I...have at times tasted fresh...warm...blood."~ Her eyes soon turned to those staring at her, the peaceful, verdant shade causing the woman to shiver slightly, and yet bite her lip more with a growing pang of concern, ~"My dear, you do not regret what I have done to you....do you? Be honest with me now."~

"I....ummm...I...." The youngling blushed all the more, trembling slightly in the woman's tender grasp as she stuttered. Did she honestly regret it? She was an immortal now, was she? And who better to serve all her life than such a graceful, beautiful woman, especially when she....well...as if it wasn't so obvious now to the both of them. Taking in a deep breath, Camille struggled to find her answer, adding more apprehension to the woman's gaze. Finally, she managed to reply, "N-no Rebecca, not at all. I....I'm happy that you changed me, and you...you saved me, Mistress. I would've died had it not been for you, and....no one would've cared... My family, my schoolmates...nobody would give a fuck that I was dead. You're...you're the only one who cares for me, M-mistress." From her eyes they fell, tears so warm, so full of an inner pain she shed upon the elder vampire. Softly Rebecca rose a hand to catch one of the tears and whisk it a way with an endearing smile to the girl. She leaned forward and upon Camille's quivering lips she planted hers, warm and sweet, leaving a tender kiss. ~"Come, my sweet."~ She breathed slipping her fingers through Camille's blue hair. ~"We've done all we could here. At least we gained something out of this, though, not what I was expecting."~ Wrapping her arm around her servant, she began to lead them out of the room, but....

Security cameras didn't record enough frames per second to capture Mithias at the speed he could move. A short distance away, the vampire went off road. Werewolves were in the area, and they would show up in the surrounding country. No matter how young or modern they were, they all felt a call to return to the wilderness. It was time for Mithias to do some tracking, to find out what they were up to.

He slowed down when he came to a great open field. Some farmer had been using this land for beef cattle a few years ago, but now the field was left to overgrow. Slowly the trees were moving in to retake it around the edges. It was rather peaceful. He stood still, and eventually the sounds of crickets and frogs returned to their previous level of hum all around him. A silver-lined dagger rode comfortably aside his long thigh, just in case.

The din of the bugs defeated any chance at hearing anything significant, but Mithias wasn't listening for abnormal noises. He was listening for abnormal silence.

@Wraithblade6

...They were stopped at the door by a rather....unsettling altercation.

~"Camille stop! It's close...."~ Rebecca said to the her servant at the door, her eyebrows furrowing, nostrils flaring at that all too familiar scent, that arid mist of iron....blood. Twas a scent that indeed tempted her, but she was swift to repress her animalistic urge, just as she was to catch on to the presence nearby before it fleeted from her aura. She knew what it was alright, and she would not let it escape her grasp. ~"We need to hurry! It's moving south, towards the wetlands!"! But...why would it go there she wondered. No time. She had to find that bastard creature before it killed again.

"Wha-? Mistress, what is it?" Cammie shuffled behind her quickly, trying to keep up with Rebecca briskly pacing down the hall. "Mistress?" She called, but to no avail did Rebecca reply. It had to be serious then. If Cammie knew one thing, it was how determined to kill her mistress became when a vampire was near. She was breathing hard, every exhale the woman felt as hot as the scathing flames of the dark abyss, and her eyes...the whites darkening with shadows of malice.

Out into the parking lot they made it, climbing into Rebecca's car and speeding off with a screech of the tires onto the main highway. The scent, it was beginning to fade, yet enough of it remained for a viable trail, a trail that would lead the duo of huntresses away from civilization and into the unforgiving black of the badlands at night, a place...where savagery and depravity could walk hand in hand without a care. Twas the very place Rebecca expected such grisly crimes to be carried out by the damned creatures of hell...or anyone else for that particular matter. Even a human could be just as vicious as a vampire. Why not ask the annals of criminal history?

The long and seemingly endless drive down the stretch of paved highway snaking around and cutting through the dark countryside ended as she pulled her vehicle into a grassy meadow, killing the ignition and quickly unbuckling herself, Camille doing the same. ~"Here."~ She said to the blue haired girl, pulling from her jacket a small but deadly Beretta 92fs Inox and handing it to her. ~"You still know how to shoot, right sweetie?"~

Camille gave a slight nod, hastily but hesitantly accepting the loaded firearm handed to her, Rebecca explaining, ~"A bullet works just as well as a stake to the heart, especially ones made from the melted down silver cross of St. Thomas."~ A rather confident smirk she gave but returned to her serious demeanor. ~"Camille, no matter what happens, I want you to stay behind me. Understand?"~

Again, but with a soft frown, Camille nodded agreeing. Rebecca gave the girl a small kiss on the lips and reached into the glovebox of the car, snatching up her own Beretta and a small flashlight. ~"Be on your guard."~ She uttered and out into the night they ventured...in search of whatever lurked beyond the thick veil of black.

@Rusalka@jeroukoo

Away from the streetlight, the thick veil of black gave way to clear, blue-tinged supernatural vision. Like nocturnal creatures who only knew the night, there was no darkness to vampires. This was their day, the period of the planet's rotation that knew not the burning ultraviolet rays, the heat, and dehydration. Sunlight was harsh on delicate lifeforms, requiring pigment, camouflage, and specialized eyes that could compensate for such intensity. The night sky always displayed an array of beautiful stars, a brilliant white moon that changed phases, and a variety of cloud types and shapes... some shimmering a silver light across their tops as they passed under the full white disk.

It would take a solid, steel set, or complete lunacy, to face a werewolf on a night like this. They'd be at their most powerful, which is why Mithias hoped to see one braving the lands near the city. He knelt down on a hill overlooking a valley, listening to the night itself. It was very peaceful. One could almost forget who and what they were out here. It was lovely.

The chirps quieted some distance to his right, and Mithias inclined his head. The flicker of a flashlight was visible, and he spotted two figures wading through the grass and brush in his direction. ... A flashlight? Must have been humans. Even still, they might be up to something interesting. Most 'normal' people don't come out at 3am. Mithias considered moving, but to do so might have given away his position. The katydid in the tree behind him was intensely proclaiming his love... oh, he went silent.

Mithias stood up as the two girls approached. Normal humans would not yet have spotted him, and so he planned to move out of their way in stealth. Then he became aware of what they were, cold creatures, no heartbeats, unearthly grace.... a random two vampires. He stopped and let them get closer. Surely they were more of the vampire youth that he tended to encounter these days. Were they part of Mrs Woodson's coven? He wondered. Immortals in general were very interesting. Their long lives were in many ways even more valuable than the short term of a mortal's life. Mithias had no intention of wiping out his own race.

"Up to no good, no doubt." He said as they go close enough to realize he was there, letting himself get hit with the flashlight.

@Wraithblade6

True for a vampire, the night was not a thing to fear.

They were part of it, she and the blue haired teen, creatures born of the darkness, forever cursed to lurk only in shadow and not the light. Twas a beautiful night, that much she could agree upon. The moon, out in full bloom, so bright and miraculous against a sheet of violet bespeckled by so many shimmering stars, like crystals flickering amidst a never ending sea of dark yet vibrant colors, and yet...it had felt so ominous to Rebecca, this night. A full moon, even if it was a sight, it was never a good one for a hunter, even one who hunted her own kind.

They would be about at this hour, prowling through the wilderness and the badlands, sniffing out their prey whom they may devour with rotten, festering teeth in clenched brutal jaws, savoring the delectable taste of blood and fresh sinew upon their tongues as they howled with glee and praise to the gory, grisly feast. Almost instinctive she thumbed back the safety on her gun, slightly. Damned she be, dragging herself and her lovely thrall out here, out into the wilds on a goose chase for a Nosferatu, out...into their hunting grounds. Pray to the gods we don't come across a werewolf. She muttered in her mind while stalking through the thick foliage, Camille following closely and stumbling a little. The poor girl, even in the dark Rebecca could see her shivering, thinking to herself how quaint a vampire being afraid of the night. ~"It's alright, sweetie."~ Assuringly she whispered glancing over her shoulder. ~"You've nothing to fear. I'll kill anyone who dares to harm my sweet servant."~ Camille said nothing, she didn't have to. Just a simple nod, along with the glow of her cheeks, was good enough to show Rebecca she agreed.

A little further through the field they pressed on, even if the brushing of grass against their bare legs were giving them both uneasy feelings, their weapons held firmly in their hands and ready to strike at any given moment, any given time they were ambushed by lycan or Nosferatu alike. ~"Camille, wait."~ Rebecca lifted a hand to halt the girl ambling behind. She sniffed of the air, her nostrils flaring a bit, her nose crinkling. Blood...it was everywhere around them, the metallic, gruesome scent overtaking the soothing aromas of the night, just serving to make the woman more on-edge. Another scent as well...carrion, rotting flesh writhing with maggots and puss spewing infection, fungus and lichens overtaking corpses of innocent souls slain unjustly. This place...it was a killing field, definitely werewolf territory. ~"There is death all around us...I can feel it upon the ill winds of midnight. We're in their midst, Camille, a hell hound's paradise. One step in the wrong direction...could be our last."~

"M-mistress...I'm scared." Camille whimpered softly, her little body shaking and shivering without end. "I feel like there's somebody watching us, a presence, dark...malevolent...ruthless. I can feel it lurking beyond the trees, their eyes burning into the back of my skull. What if it's them, the creature who attacked that poor girl?"

It had to be, Rebecca thought, yet...something felt off to her. The way Camille spoke of this so called...presence, it was as though she were speaking something powerful, something far more beyond a typical youngling. Could it have been...an elder? She sighed, wrapping her arm around the girl and pulling her close, kissing her gently on her forehead. ~"I wouldn't doubt it. His blood trail led us all the way out here, no less, to these god forsaken wastes. My only hope is that he is a vampire and not a lycan. I could kill him, but it will take alot, and frankly, I don't think we have enough bullets to take down a werewolf."~ Gingerly Rebecca ruffled Cammie's blue hair. ~"But never you fear, sweetheart. We'll make it out of here alive, even if I have to rip the bastards apart with my bare hands."~

"Thanks, Mistress." She murmured in reply, but then...

"Up to no good, no doubt."

"AAH!"

*BANG*

The gunshot rang out through the dead of the night, an echo that pierced through the ill silence, sending crows and other avian creatures flocking away in terror. ~"Camille!"~ Rebecca yelped, instantly at the girl's side as she shook clutching her pistol. ~"Camille, what's wrong with you? What was it?"~ The girl said nothing, only frozen with eyes wide in shock of where she had fired her weapon...or rather...who stood before her. Rebecca shined her flashlight in the given direction and soon...she spotted him, tall, intimidating, waves of black hair like the plumage of ravens draping over his broad, chiseled shoulders...and those eyes...those beastly, feral eyes. ~"Don't move!"~ She growled, her firearm leveled upon his head. ~"One mistake and I'll send you to Hell, bastard!"~

@Rusalka

The blue haired girl screamed and the gun went off. It was at fairly close range, and the timing was impeccable. The fast reflexes of a vampire reacting instantaneously in fear were spot on, like a Zen master archer, finally firing a shot after an hour of meditating on a single point in space. There was no time between her instinct and the result, no thought or emotion running in her head to jumble up the signal to her fair little hand. The bullet pierced the vampire's flesh without any chance of being dodged.

Mithias stifled a grunt as he was shot in the gut. Had had been shot many times before, and never before had bullets stopped him. They couldn't. Had he thought he needed to avoid being shot, he would have been far more cautious. Of course, he never expected a vampire to be carrying holy-imbued ammunition. Shock struck him as he realized the pain from his wound was only growing, burning inside of his body like a bright coal. His brow furrowed anxiously as what little color he had drained from his face and he went down on one knee. Desparately, he tried to ascess what damage had been done to him and he covered his wound. Weakness threatened to overtake him, but he fought against it. Any lesser vampire would have passed out or gone up in smoke in an instant. He trembled slightly behind clenched white teeth.

Seven centuries. Was this all the time he would endure on this earth? The power and life that he had been given in exchange for his fall from grace as a knight... Did it end here? Mithias looked up at the two females. Truly, they had shot him on accident, a coward's move. Yet, lethality might have been their intent all along. Like a fool, he had not considered that they could have been hunting him. Perhaps their use of holy weaponry had won them elder's lives before, or perhaps it was a defensive measure against those like himself. Ah the details didn't matter. He was now at the wrong end of a holy weapon and likely too slowed to effectively flee. He was in no way curious nor desirous to experience death, not for a long long time yet, but if this was it, if this was the moment... at least it had been a beautiful night.

Wanting to live, and avidly looking for the slimist chance of survival, Mithias wasn't stupid. He gasped in pain and squeezed his yellow eyes shut, but he didn't try to get up or run or attack. One more bullet like that, especially into his skull, could possibly be enough to kill him. Containing thie pain, he glared at Rebecca like a wounded animal, a large wounded animal. Skipping insults and small talk, Mithias jumped to the crux of the situation. "What do you want from me?" He asked her.

@Wraithblade6

~"You've already given me what I want, vampire."~ The woman hissed through her fangs, her beretta just mere inches from his broad forehead. Later, she would have to reward her sweet for dealing the first blow, but for now, she had the bastard right where she wanted him, on his knees doubling over in pain as a virulent combination of silver and sainthood seared his wretched flesh and boiled his blood slowly into a fine crimson vapor. ~"But I suppose a bit of information would be nice before I deal the coup de grace."~ She smirked, thumbing back the hammer on her weapon. ~"A girl was murdered just recently, no name and no affiliations, slaughtered without mercy, by a creature like you no less. But the bite wasn't clean; it was sloppy, like a newblood's. There's a coven in New Orleans, and I want to know everything about it. Their lords, their members, all that you can tell me before you draw your last putrid breath here in this mortal coil?"~

No quarter she would give this creature, no mercy, except for maybe the kiss of death to grace his cold, cracked lips, or for literal matter his forehead being split open with a 9mm Parabellum. ~"Well vampire? Do you wish to speak?"~ She had her assumptions he wouldn't. Coven lords, if this man was one, never sold out their corrupted flock, even if given the pretense of imminent demise. Some were cowards, yes, as Rebecca's had her fare share she hunted down and personally killed, but this one...even as she felt the life gradually drain from his predatory eyes glaring at her with such paroxysm, such malicious rage for skewering his abdomen with a bullet, she had a feeling he wouldn't break.

@Rusalka



Mithias listened, plagued by the pain in his gut which he held his blood-covered hand over. He tried to answer. "Ah. I don't know about a such girl.... No family? Sounds like an escapee from the kind of project Elle Woodson might be involved in. So, I see that you're not sent here by the coven to kill me then? I was about to be impressed with the speed of the Elle's vengeance."

The black-haired vampire spoke readily, but not in a pathetically rushed tone of fear. He placed one hand down to support himself. What he had said so far was slightly unexpected. So, he appeared to be at odds with the local vampires. Big deal. His problems were not going to matter in the next few minutes. "I'll tell you what you want to know, but I must tell you more than you asked for. Vampires are far too numerous in these times, and now the young move into territories not their own and act like farmers among sheep. The coven in New Oreleans is lead by Ms. Woodson, Elle, and she reports to an even larger heirarchy. Every large city in these times has a nest of supplicant, sycophantic, selfish psychopaths who all want to suck their way to the top. Elle had her claws in everything here, even more than I have yet discovered, I am sure. Her next three executives were sordid scum: Roland Marks, Heather Larksby, and Ivanna. ... No, Ivanna didn't have another name. Roland had thralls managing the local banks, Heather saw to controlling the local human authorities and legal system, and Ivanna lead their internal law enforcement, the vampire executioners, who keep their own kind oppressed.

Elle herself lived in and gave her orders from the corportate media tower downtown. Farren Bixby Stalton manipulated the news agencies there with her and was also her personal butler. But, they probably won't be causing any trouble, for a little while." The blood on his clothes, Rebecca would realize was vampire blood, and possibly not his own.

"They're all dead, all except for Ms. Woodson." The wounded vampire frowned at that. "I had been watching this coven for 5 years, since they came, but I had to intervene. Only a short while ago, the New Orleans coven somehow orchestrated the murder of the werewolf pack leader, the 'alpha,' and to kill such a truly free and wild supernatural being is an unfathomable crime. The mean to incite war with lycankind, and I am sure they have already accomplished it. It may be too late..." He winced.

"Elle Woodson is responsible for this. Perhaps I should have put an end to her as well, but... I let her go. Perhaps it is because, I believe that, not everything deserves to die." He would have chuckled if it wasn't torture to do so, for surely his assailant didn't hold the same views. It really didn't look like there was a way out of this.

"I do not want to die myself, I have someone to live for, but..." Mithias didnt' go on. The look on his face made clear it was regretable, but his own tale would be kept to himself. "I cannot stop you if you truly wish to destroy me right now. Please, stop the crimes against the werewolves, and against humans." He seemed a bit dulled from his injury. "The innocent must be protected. Keep this world in balance." He looked around himself, but no one would be coming to his resque it seemed.

No begging, no appeals to god. Mithias chose his last words. "I loved you father."

@Wraithblade6

What....

What was this?

The vampire had given her all that she had wanted to know, every last grisly, grim detail he uttered through parsed lips, indeed in such agony he tried to obscure. But it was all too clear to the woman he was at his last moments, the very life she could sense undulating rapid and oh so violent in his body as he, the tall, mysterious creature, fought tooth and nail to grasp it away from the skeletal hands of Death coming forth from Hell to claim it as their own.

He told her everything about the coven running NOLA, about how he dispatched most of the major players, except for a Miss Elle Woodson. Rebecca would have to pay this woman a visit, but in the mean time...she had yet another to deal with, him.

And yet...here she stood, fangs clenched in anticipation, eyes filled with malice towards the despicable abomination that now cowered upon his knees before her, blood seeping from the bullet wound in his abdomen. The gun, the silver plated Beretta she had pressed to his forehead, her trigger finger inching back ever slowly, just waiting to hear that last bang, to hear the bullet of holy origin pierce the man's skull, bury into the soft meat of his brain, and kill him once and for all.

And yet.....

She couldn't. Try as the woman may, her finger would not move another inch to press down the hard metal trigger.

It was those words.... those very few words he spoke in hushed, dull tones, "Perhaps I should have put an end to her as well, but... I let her go. Perhaps it is because, I believe that, not everything deserves to die."

And it was those words alone.... not to mention the rather odd, sincere look to his eyes.... that made Rebecca drop her gun and sigh.

~"Camille....lower your weapon."~ She gave the order in a defeated whisper.

"But...but M-mistress?" Camille questioned, her catlike eyes widening a tad in astonishment. In all her days at the side of this lovely, strong, courageous woman, never had she been one to witness such a spectacle...Rebecca sparing a vampire. What her Mistress did next was even more of a shock.

~"I can't believe I'm doing this..."~ Reluctant the woman muttered under her breath, her gray coat slipping from her shoulders and crumpling into the dirt and grass beneath her. Beside the ailing creature she kneeled, inclining as close as she could to him, as if to offer something. And that something...why, her own neck, slim and fragile. She whispered after another begrudging sigh, unbuttoning her blouse, just a little bit to expose a generous portion of her pale flesh, ~"The blood of your own kind may not be the sweetest, but if you do not drink soon, surely your body will begin to deteriorate and crumble into nothing but ashes. I can't say I'm going to enjoy this, nor do I think keeping you alive will benefit me in some way or another. I am simply doing this, because like you, I too wish to protect that which is innocent."~

@Rusalka

The pain burned like fire in his insides, sizzeling flesh as fast as his powers could heal it. No, this standoff wouldn't last forever. Just fighting it took all the energy he had, his strength, his speed, his wit and reflexes. Mithias actually felt himself tremble under the gun as he realized what was very likely about to happen.

You might think he could have gotten up and run, snatched the gun out of her hand, well... even if he deflected one gun, the blue haired girl had already proven herself a good aim. A second bullet would be most difficult to deal with while trying to escape two with the vampiric gift. Any aggressive action, even under the pretense of flight would only have been an invitation for death.

As the moment sadistically stalled, Mithias watched the waves of red sparkle with the bright silver moonlight above him. Her hair, it was like liquid, the surface of a red lake, undulating in the breeze. How beautiful it was, and oh how beautiful blood was. Had he not just fed? The hunger that suddenly struck him must've come from this wound that continued to tax him to the ground. Forget the pain. Mithias refused to let it spoil his apprieciation for the last things of beauty he would ever see.

"Camille....lower your weapon."

The beautiful creature knelt down before him and spoke words that he knew he understood, although it was like listening through a daze. Ages of practicing self restraint easily gave Mithias the ability to chose between drinking and death. Control was his as he looked at Rebecca with an anxious brow and then lowered his sight to her offering of just what he needed to survive.

"Your blood, is sacred." He said, exhibiting a respectful reluctance. Yet, having acknowledged that, he accepted. With one hand still covering his wound, he leaned forward and reached for her carefully. His gentilness was surprising, given Rebecca's history with men of either species. He held her with only one arm, with a strength far more akin to a human's than to the beast that he truly was. His fangs were sharp and relatively painless, like those of a blood-drinking bat as opposed to a brutal wolf. His actions seemed in accord with his words, that her blood actually was sacred, given to him freely, a sacrifice that he most appreciated.

Before she knew it, he was releasing her, and she felt a calmness that she knew was merely an illusion. And just as that illusion was wearing thin, the clink sound of metal was heard. Mithias had drawn one of his swords!

The blade flashed and plunged into flesh. There was already enough vampire blood on the ground. Mithias doubled over, his own blade through his back as he fished into the wound with his other hand and physically removed the burning bullet from within himself. Tossing it onto the ground before him, he growled and cast his blade away as well. This wound at least would heal. Now, holding over a somewhat bigger wound, he looked up at Camille with his vivid, bright eyes and panted. "Madam, could you please refrain from putting another one of those bullets in me."

@Wraithblade6 ((onceagaini'mverysorryididn'tpostforfivefuckingdayspleasedon'tkillmeaaaaaah!!!!))

It was...appalling to say the least, giving herself over willingly to a man, even if it was just to keep him from dying.

What could have possessed the mind of Rebecca to surrender herself to this raven haired fiend? Although, he wasn't much of fiend as she glimpsed into his eyes, feeling and even seeing the sincerity in his words he spoke to her through pained whispers. A soft shiver encapsulated her body at the grace of his touch to her skin, her eyes closing, anticipating the pain, rather dreading it because she felt it would drag her back to that horrible day, the day her life was changed for...the worst.

But oddly enough, no pain as the man's fangs sunk into the meat of her neck, only a slight...tingling sensation that lulled her into a euphoric trance, an inaudible whimper escaping her lips as she tilted her head back, her tense nerves unraveling. Such a strange reaction to another Nosferatu feeding off of her. Should her mind have been in the right, then certainly both hands would be grasping the neck of the beast and pulling him off of her, but her arms were limp at her sides, as was the rest of her body and mind giving way to this bizarre feeling of calmness.

The vampire released her, a small trickle of crimson remaining upon her neck, along with two small punctures from where his fangs tasted of her delectable essence. She stood, wobbling a bit, the blue haired girl behind her with her mouth agape and eyes as wide as the full moon above. Did her mistress really just let another vampire drink her blood? Upon Rebecca's face, which would only express rage and utter disdain towards her kind, a face of demure emptiness, void of any emotion but the tranquility....soon to be shattered by the shrill scrape of a blade against its scabbard.

~"How dare you betray me, beast!"~ She snapped out of it, immediately her face contorting in a vicious snarl, her Beretta drawn to the wounded beast once more. Yes, she would have shot him point blank, execution style, but a shock towards what he did next. As if the mere act of a vampire feeding from her wasn't repulsive enough, seeing him jab his own blade into his torso nearly made her sick to her stomach, the woman grimacing in complete disgust. Both she and Camille looked on in appalling horror, observing the dark and brooding man fish from his grisly gash the pieces of blessed silver embedded in the meat, the sickening squelch of blood and sinew...such a stomach turner it was.

Finally, he was done, as much as Rebecca was with this...eventful evening. She would definitely need a drink and a nice hot bath when she got home. "Umm....s-sure mister. N-no problem." Camille gave a nervous smile to him, agreeing that she wasn't going to force this vampire again through the torment of earlier. In fact with how much she quivered in his foreboding presence, she was certain to not execute another perfect shot like that, even at a close range as this. Rebecca cut in, her tone a tad harsh as she crossed her arms, still the steely glare towards him, ~"There, I let you live. You can thank me later, vampire, and don't expect me to do it again."~