Name: Vera Crossley Character Concept: A young vampire with ties to organized crime. Before her embrace, Vera was a police officer with the ______ Police Department. Trouble: Vera is resented by her sire. Worse still, she has been exiled from her coven, a veritable death sentence for most fledgling vampires. Scene:
"Well, what do you have do say for yourself, my dear childe?"
Fear surged through Vera at the sound of the familiar feminine voice. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to follow the sensual tones that drifted to her from across the room straight into the crypt. It made her want to die, to feel the ecstasy of her embrace again, to suffer. She felt so weak, so powerless, and it made her afraid. She was naked without her gun. They'd taken it from her, of course. Not that it would have mattered. She couldn't hurt Teresa. No matter how much she she wanted to. No matter how much she tried. She was bound by her blood, and it filled her with bitterness. Vera drew a slow breath, an old habit from life that she couldn't quite shake. She looked up from the marble floor, and flashed her teeth in a defiant smile that was full of anger, years of rage only barely contained, "I'm not sorry."
"Of course not, Vera," Teresa purred, stepping into the light. Despite her best efforts, Vera could feel her jaw slacken with awe as she gazed at her sire. She was so beautiful. Hair the color of midnight fell past her shoulders. An evening gown in crimson silk, that fit just so, accented an inhumanly perfect figure. Slender arms were hidden beneath a web of black lace, and her reddish brown skin was flush with color, as if she was still alive. Teresa's cherry colored lips pursed into a wicked smile. That same smile that had broken Vera, cursed her, and lit a fire deep inside of her that had almost consumed her."You have always been my most disobedient servant."
"You went too far. You asked for too much. You knew. You always knew," Vera said with a rising desperation in her voice. "You knew I wouldn't do it."
"No, I simply hoped that you had finally understood what you are, what we are," Teresa softly replied, her "I believed in you. I gave you a chance, and you disappointed me."
"You made me what I am."
"I did, yes. A pity you that you could not recognize the wonderful gift that I gave you. I saved you from your humanity."
"I- I tried," Vera stammered, her voice finally breaking. The brilliant seas of emerald she faced, drowned her in memories and desire. They tore at the faint echoes that remained of Vera's soul, and filled her with dread. "You gave me no choice. I couldn't–"
"Oh, Vera, you always had a choice," Teresa interrupted, slipping closer. Vera could feel her nervous system screaming. A predator, a true monster, stood ever closer to her, just out of arms reach. Vera willed her body to move, but it wouldn't listen.
"I'm not a monster, I'm not like you," Vera managed to snarl, fighting the spell that had enthralled her.
"Oh, but you are, Vera. You have killed, you have fed, and you have bled for me," Teresa said bridging the gap between them. Removing a glove, she softly stroked the side of Vera's face. She spoke slowly, sensuously, and each lovely syllable that escaped from her generous mouth pulled painfully at the strings of Vera's unmoving heart. Lost in her sire's eyes, Vera shivered with unwelcome pleasure. There was power in those ancient eyes, so much power, and Vera could feel the hatred that she had nursed so carefully fade from her thoughts. The love that Vera felt for the elder vampire was overwhelming.
"Teresa, please," Vera begged.
"If only you had listened, if only you had learned," Teresa sadly whispered, placing a finger over her lips. "You were so close to perfection. So close. I only wanted you to live. To forget that silly code of honor that weakens you, cheapens you, and binds you to these pitiful mortals."
"Just kill me. You've won. Make it stop," Vera sobbed wearily. She couldn't take it. Not anymore. It was too much. She couldn't fight the compulsion of the blood that moved within her, the blood that had turned her. She felt as if something inside of her, something terribly human, would break and shatter into a thousand pieces.
"No, no, my dear, sweet Vera. That would be so terribly boring, so predictable," Teresa said with a wicked smile. "Your dream, your nightmare must continue."
"Teresa-
"Worry not, childe, you won't last long on your own. Not in this city. Not with the enemies you have made. Not without my protection," Teresa teased, laughing sweetly. She moved impossibly close to Vera, drawing painfully near, her body pressing against the young vampire's body. Her cool breath brushing against Vera's shaking lips, "When the Final Death takes you, think of me, and remember that you chose your fate."
Teresa brushed her lips faintly against Vera's lips, pulling back with a cruel grin as an involuntary, desperate whimper escaped from her captive. Vera could only watch as Teresa turned, and walked away from her.
"Teresa, wait, don't leave-" Vera pleaded, pain, unbearable pain coursing through her body.
Teresa did not stop, and faded into the shadows. Her fading voice a final torment, "I will miss you my dear police girl."
"No! You can't do this to me!" Vera shouted. Her body ignored her. Her will was shattered. Tears threatened as she tried to move. She had to stop her. She had to pursue her sire. How could she live without her? Before she could follow, an impossibly large set of hands grabbed her, hefted her off her feet, and slammed her mercilessly against the closet wall. Gasping for air, Vera struggled, and flailed desperately with her limbs, trying for any purchase, any strike that might wound. Blows that should have shattered bones, met only with unwavering resistance, as if she had struck a mountain, and not a man.
"Do that again, Vera, and I'll keep your head," the unseen figure rumbled, grabbing a hold of the back of her head, and violently smashing Vera's face against the unforgiving bricks.
"Fuck you, Anton," Vera spat back. Her retinas were alight with brilliant arcs of fire, and she could barely hear the thundering voice of the Russian over the ringing that echoed in her ears. Not that it mattered. Not ever. She wasn't going to listen. Not to him. Not to Anton. Not to Teresa's inhuman butcher. She wouldn't surrender. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
There was no warning when he threw her to the ground, delivering a kick that sent her skidding against the door with a dull thump. Groaning loudly, Vera tried to breath. Anton raised the young vampire unceremoniously to her feet by the collar of her jacket with an uninterested frown. "Enough. No more games."
"Fine," Vera seethed. She knew she had no chance against Anton. She had seen what the gigantic vampire could do. She wasn't ready to die again. Not yet. Not like that.
Anton nodded and the heavy metal door opened behind her. Vera felt a rush of cold air as he tossed her out into the darkened alley. The door slammed shut and she swallowed blood and the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. She wasn't hurt, not badly. She'd recover soon enough. She just needed to find shelter, she needed to move. She needed to move before they found her.
Crawling to her knees, Vera slammed a fist against the metal, "Anton, you bastard! I know you're still there! My gun, give me my gun. It's the least you can do. For old time's sake."
Vera heard the locks turning, managing to fall pathetically to the side as the door opened.
"For old time's sake," Anton grunted, tossing her pistol.
All steel and lovely, the pistol clattered impotently across the pavement, landing next to Vera. The door slammed shut, and Vera sat up unsteadily. With shaky hands, she grabbed her pistol, and in a single, fluid motion, she ejected the magazine and cleared the chamber. Emptying the magazine in her lap, she carefully counted the bullets. A mad laugh escaped her throat. Nine rounds. Anton had left her only nine rounds. Nine rounds of nine by nineteen millimeter Parabellum. It wouldn't last for very long.
Tucking the pistol against the small of her back, Vera buried her head in her arms and wept. Tears of crimson, the only tears left to her monstrous kind streaked down her cheeks, falling slowly onto the cold pavement.
She was alone.
Summary: A police woman, turned vampire, turned vampire mobster, turned independent contractor in desperate need of friends.
It would honestly be refreshing to see a character with super strength. Not too many people play the 'classic' powers in these games I find.
In a flash of originality I want to write a cape that flies.
Essentially, Hawkgirl, except she'll be much cooler (no insane backstory about killing some Egyptian priest with her boyfriend) and have a name that's related to some other bird of prey.
Nifty, I like it. The vignettes were a cool way to present the setting and I think magic adds an interesting element to the usual Mad Max/Walking Dead setup.
Can I write the tiefling rogue in the third vignette? :D
Not quite sure what I wrote, but hopefully it's not awful:
Name: Vera Crossley Character Concept: A young vampire with ties to organized crime. Before her embrace, Vera was a police officer with the ______ Police Department. Trouble: Vera is resented by her sire. Worse still, she has been exiled from her coven, a veritable death sentence for most fledgling vampires. Scene:
"Well, what do you have do say for yourself, my dear childe?"
Fear surged through Vera at the sound of the familiar feminine voice. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to follow the sensual tones that drifted to her from across the room straight into the crypt. It made her want to die, to feel the ecstasy of her embrace again, to suffer. She felt so weak, so powerless, and it made her afraid. She was naked without her gun. They'd taken it from her, of course. Not that it would have mattered. She couldn't hurt Teresa. No matter how much she she wanted to. No matter how much she tried. She was bound by her blood, and it filled her with bitterness. Vera drew a slow breath, an old habit from life that she couldn't quite shake. She looked up from the marble floor, and flashed her teeth in a defiant smile that was full of anger, years of rage only barely contained, "I'm not sorry."
"Of course not, Vera," Teresa purred, stepping into the light. Despite her best efforts, Vera could feel her jaw slacken with awe as she gazed at her sire. She was so beautiful. Hair the color of midnight fell past her shoulders. An evening gown in crimson silk, that fit just so, accented an inhumanly perfect figure. Slender arms were hidden beneath a web of black lace, and her reddish brown skin was flush with color, as if she was still alive. Teresa's cherry colored lips pursed into a wicked smile. That same smile that had broken Vera, cursed her, and lit a fire deep inside of her that had almost consumed her."You have always been my most disobedient servant."
"You went too far. You asked for too much. You knew. You always knew," Vera said with a rising desperation in her voice. "You knew I wouldn't do it."
"No, I simply hoped that you had finally understood what you are, what we are," Teresa softly replied, her "I believed in you. I gave you a chance, and you disappointed me."
"You made me what I am."
"I did, yes. A pity you that you could not recognize the wonderful gift that I gave you. I saved you from your humanity."
"I- I tried," Vera stammered, her voice finally breaking. The brilliant seas of emerald she faced, drowned her in memories and desire. They tore at the faint echoes that remained of Vera's soul, and filled her with dread. "You gave me no choice. I couldn't–"
"Oh, Vera, you always had a choice," Teresa interrupted, slipping closer. Vera could feel her nervous system screaming. A predator, a true monster, stood ever closer to her, just out of arms reach. Vera willed her body to move, but it wouldn't listen.
"I'm not a monster, I'm not like you," Vera managed to snarl, fighting the spell that had enthralled her.
"Oh, but you are, Vera. You have killed, you have fed, and you have bled for me," Teresa said bridging the gap between them. Removing a glove, she softly stroked the side of Vera's face. She spoke slowly, sensuously, and each lovely syllable that escaped from her generous mouth pulled painfully at the strings of Vera's unmoving heart. Lost in her sire's eyes, Vera shivered with unwelcome pleasure. There was power in those ancient eyes, so much power, and Vera could feel the hatred that she had nursed so carefully fade from her thoughts. The love that Vera felt for the elder vampire was overwhelming.
"Teresa, please," Vera begged.
"If only you had listened, if only you had learned," Teresa sadly whispered, placing a finger over her lips. "You were so close to perfection. So close. I only wanted you to live. To forget that silly code of honor that weakens you, cheapens you, and binds you to these pitiful mortals."
"Just kill me. You've won. Make it stop," Vera sobbed wearily. She couldn't take it. Not anymore. It was too much. She couldn't fight the compulsion of the blood that moved within her, the blood that had turned her. She felt as if something inside of her, something terribly human, would break and shatter into a thousand pieces.
"No, no, my dear, sweet Vera. That would be so terribly boring, so predictable," Teresa said with a wicked smile. "Your dream, your nightmare must continue."
"Teresa-
"Worry not, childe, you won't last long on your own. Not in this city. Not with the enemies you have made. Not without my protection," Teresa teased, laughing sweetly. She moved impossibly close to Vera, drawing painfully near, her body pressing against the young vampire's body. Her cool breath brushing against Vera's shaking lips, "When the Final Death takes you, think of me, and remember that you chose your fate."
Teresa brushed her lips faintly against Vera's lips, pulling back with a cruel grin as an involuntary, desperate whimper escaped from her captive. Vera could only watch as Teresa turned, and walked away from her.
"Teresa, wait, don't leave-" Vera pleaded, pain, unbearable pain coursing through her body.
Teresa did not stop, and faded into the shadows. Her fading voice a final torment, "I will miss you my dear police girl."
"No! You can't do this to me!" Vera shouted. Her body ignored her. Her will was shattered. Tears threatened as she tried to move. She had to stop her. She had to pursue her sire. How could she live without her? Before she could follow, an impossibly large set of hands grabbed her, hefted her off her feet, and slammed her mercilessly against the closet wall. Gasping for air, Vera struggled, and flailed desperately with her limbs, trying for any purchase, any strike that might wound. Blows that should have shattered bones, met only with unwavering resistance, as if she had struck a mountain, and not a man.
"Do that again, Vera, and I'll keep your head," the unseen figure rumbled, grabbing a hold of the back of her head, and violently smashing Vera's face against the unforgiving bricks.
"Fuck you, Anton," Vera spat back. Her retinas were alight with brilliant arcs of fire, and she could barely hear the thundering voice of the Russian over the ringing that echoed in her ears. Not that it mattered. Not ever. She wasn't going to listen. Not to him. Not to Anton. Not to Teresa's inhuman butcher. She wouldn't surrender. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
There was no warning when he threw her to the ground, delivering a kick that sent her skidding against the door with a dull thump. Groaning loudly, Vera tried to breath. Anton raised the young vampire unceremoniously to her feet by the collar of her jacket with an uninterested frown. "Enough. No more games."
"Fine," Vera seethed. She knew she had no chance against Anton. She had seen what the gigantic vampire could do. She wasn't ready to die again. Not yet. Not like that.
Anton nodded and the heavy metal door opened behind her. Vera felt a rush of cold air as he tossed her out into the darkened alley. The door slammed shut and she swallowed blood and the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. She wasn't hurt, not badly. She'd recover soon enough. She just needed to find shelter, she needed to move. She needed to move before they found her.
Crawling to her knees, Vera slammed a fist against the metal, "Anton, you bastard! I know you're still there! My gun, give me my gun. It's the least you can do. For old time's sake."
Vera heard the locks turning, managing to fall pathetically to the side as the door opened.
"For old time's sake," Anton grunted, tossing her pistol.
All steel and lovely, the pistol clattered impotently across the pavement, landing next to Vera. The door slammed shut, and Vera sat up unsteadily. With shaky hands, she grabbed her pistol, and in a single, fluid motion, she ejected the magazine and cleared the chamber. Emptying the magazine in her lap, she carefully counted the bullets. A mad laugh escaped her throat. Nine rounds. Anton had left her only nine rounds. Nine rounds of nine by nineteen millimeter Parrabellum. It wouldn't last for very long.
Tucking the pistol against the small of her back, Vera buried her head in her arms and wept. Tears of crimson, the only tears left to her monstrous kind streaked down her cheeks, falling slowly onto the cold pavement.
She was alone.
Summary: A police woman, turned vampire, turned vampire mobster, turned independent contractor in desperate need of friends.
A humble cog in a very clever and beautiful watch, perhaps.
[hider=The Tyger - William Blake]
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
[/hider]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">A humble cog in a very clever and beautiful watch, perhaps.<br><br><div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="The Tyger - William Blake">The Tyger - William Blake [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none">Tyger Tyger, burning bright, <br>In the forests of the night; <br>What immortal hand or eye, <br>Could frame thy fearful symmetry?<br><br>In what distant deeps or skies, <br>Burnt the fire of thine eyes?<br>On what wings dare he aspire?<br>What the hand, dare seize the fire?<br><br>And what shoulder, & what art,<br>Could twist the sinews of thy heart?<br>And when thy heart began to beat,<br>What dread hand? & what dread feet?<br><br>What the hammer? what the chain, <br>In what furnace was thy brain?<br>What the anvil? what dread grasp, <br>Dare its deadly terrors clasp! <br><br>When the stars threw down their spears <br>And water'd heaven with their tears: <br>Did he smile his work to see?<br>Did he who made the Lamb make thee?<br><br>Tyger Tyger burning bright, <br>In the forests of the night: <br>What immortal hand or eye,<br>Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?</div></div></div>
Fading Memory