It'll be okay. I'll be fine. I'm just tired and maybe want to burn the world down.
Life in Stasis Member
pretentious jerk
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Will try to post tomorrow. More bad news. Kind of want to lie here devastated for forty years or so.
A material goal, and a seemingly straightforward quest that can't possibly go awry or horribly, horribly wrong in any way? I'm interested.
Excellent. I'll have something soon. Have an idea for a non practicing witch.
"So I researched you," he explained. "And your quaint fashion sense. It's nothing untoward; I needed to be sure you were Alistair's child. Your blood is special, and you were the closest of the line I could reach easily."
A bit late to get upset about a bit of stalking when she was already being carried off. Such was the girl of the 21st century, entirely missing the scope of importance. Then again women rarely had sense even in his day.
Alice began to moan for her possessions, but Sasha was apathetic.
"They're only things, Alice," he chided. "Have a little perspective. What do they matter next to your safety?" Humans were so attached to all the stuff they owned and all the meticulous and quite arbitrary rules they chose to follow. Sasha supposed such things lent structure to the human mind, which craved order, but much as he tried, he failed to see the cosmic value in it. Like currency, jobs and lease agreements were only as important as humans chose to make them. "As a favor, I won't break your lock. I'm quite good at getting into flats undetected, as you might expect."
Werewolf, vampire. Trite, sensational names for very old things. The sound of them made Sasha's blood curdle in revulsion. Still, there were few alternatives in English, so he supposed they would do.
"Childish words," Sasha sighed. "And an appalling first guess." Honestly, he had no perceivable reflection and she thought he might be a werewolf? "But I see you're getting the idea. Just don't go thinking you can compare my kind to movie monsters. The old legends have more truth to them than your 'Twilight' or teenage girl vampire slayer films."
Emerging from the alley, Sasha paused for a moment to peer down the quiet streets. The sun had fully set and the day was winding down. The golden lamps spilled their light in even patterns along the pavement, lighting the way for passersby, but there were none. The pubs were still another block away, so that was where the life of the city had migrated to at this hour.
Which, of course, was the idea.
Sasha carried Alice out into the open. Even if there had been witnesses Alice could call to, she was mostly blocked behind a cover of parked cars. Sasha fixed his eyes on a dark blue coupe a few cars up and with his spare hand began to fish out his keys.
"I appreciate you not screaming, please continue to refrain. It'll make me peckish."
Under Alice's legs, Sasha unlocked the passenger side of his vehicle, and then set her on the seat through the opened door. The car smelled vaguely of cheap air freshener and had a rosary hanging from the rearview mirror. There was a photo of a dark haired woman in the sun flap. The dash was a bit dated; the vehicle was probably ten years out of date. It was mundanely human for a vampire.
Walking around the front of the car through the window, Sasha twirled the keys in his hand as if strolling without a care in a sunny afternoon. He patted his pocket before getting in, looking momentarily confused until he remembered that he'd given Alice his phone.
"This isn't a dream, Alice," Sasha assured her belatedly once he sank into the driver's side seat. "I realize this is all quite sudden for you. It'll take some time to process and I'm sorry for that. But for me, it's been a long, long, miserable two hundred years since my father's death."
He started the car and, showing surprising consideration, signaled before pulling into the driving lane.
"Are you hungry?" He asked, adjusting the rearview mirror. "We could stop and get chips or something on the way."
A bit late to get upset about a bit of stalking when she was already being carried off. Such was the girl of the 21st century, entirely missing the scope of importance. Then again women rarely had sense even in his day.
Alice began to moan for her possessions, but Sasha was apathetic.
"They're only things, Alice," he chided. "Have a little perspective. What do they matter next to your safety?" Humans were so attached to all the stuff they owned and all the meticulous and quite arbitrary rules they chose to follow. Sasha supposed such things lent structure to the human mind, which craved order, but much as he tried, he failed to see the cosmic value in it. Like currency, jobs and lease agreements were only as important as humans chose to make them. "As a favor, I won't break your lock. I'm quite good at getting into flats undetected, as you might expect."
Werewolf, vampire. Trite, sensational names for very old things. The sound of them made Sasha's blood curdle in revulsion. Still, there were few alternatives in English, so he supposed they would do.
"Childish words," Sasha sighed. "And an appalling first guess." Honestly, he had no perceivable reflection and she thought he might be a werewolf? "But I see you're getting the idea. Just don't go thinking you can compare my kind to movie monsters. The old legends have more truth to them than your 'Twilight' or teenage girl vampire slayer films."
Emerging from the alley, Sasha paused for a moment to peer down the quiet streets. The sun had fully set and the day was winding down. The golden lamps spilled their light in even patterns along the pavement, lighting the way for passersby, but there were none. The pubs were still another block away, so that was where the life of the city had migrated to at this hour.
Which, of course, was the idea.
Sasha carried Alice out into the open. Even if there had been witnesses Alice could call to, she was mostly blocked behind a cover of parked cars. Sasha fixed his eyes on a dark blue coupe a few cars up and with his spare hand began to fish out his keys.
"I appreciate you not screaming, please continue to refrain. It'll make me peckish."
Under Alice's legs, Sasha unlocked the passenger side of his vehicle, and then set her on the seat through the opened door. The car smelled vaguely of cheap air freshener and had a rosary hanging from the rearview mirror. There was a photo of a dark haired woman in the sun flap. The dash was a bit dated; the vehicle was probably ten years out of date. It was mundanely human for a vampire.
Walking around the front of the car through the window, Sasha twirled the keys in his hand as if strolling without a care in a sunny afternoon. He patted his pocket before getting in, looking momentarily confused until he remembered that he'd given Alice his phone.
"This isn't a dream, Alice," Sasha assured her belatedly once he sank into the driver's side seat. "I realize this is all quite sudden for you. It'll take some time to process and I'm sorry for that. But for me, it's been a long, long, miserable two hundred years since my father's death."
He started the car and, showing surprising consideration, signaled before pulling into the driving lane.
"Are you hungry?" He asked, adjusting the rearview mirror. "We could stop and get chips or something on the way."
Haha I've purposely left it unmentioned, though he's never really been fond of the facade. He also doesn't like the word.
It's deliberately left out in narratives to kind of keep up the shrinking benefit of the doubt in a real life setting until Alice directly acknowledges it.
It's deliberately left out in narratives to kind of keep up the shrinking benefit of the doubt in a real life setting until Alice directly acknowledges it.
She pouted about leaving her a choice, prompting him to roll his eyes.
“All life is merely the illusion of choice,” Sasha muttered, busy binding fabric around Alice’s wrists as she lectured him. For a moment he considered the fabric’s softness and wondered if it would make a comfortable gag.
And then a promise to, as she put it, make it easy. It was enough to force Sasha to pause and glance up at her, just as he tied a final knot over her wrists. There was some sort of comedy to the idea that a girl bound up before him was now setting the terms, as if she still had all the leverage.
He leveled his brown eyes at her, as if bored with her offer. For a moment he looked unbelievably ancient.
“What sort of life do you think I lead, I wonder?” Sasha mused, mostly to himself. It hadn’t occurred to the girl yet what she was truly dealing with. Why would it? Monsters existed only in fantasy, or as CGI in films, or as brooding boyfriends in girl’s stories. It wouldn’t even occur to her that anything like that could exist in the real world.
That, of course, was simultaneously the work of the monsters themselves, and the ones who hunted them. The only tandem effort shared by otherwise opposed factions. Most of the time, anyway.
He sighed.
“I don’t usually deal with humans on their terms.” Sasha crossed his arms, and rubbed the underside of his shaven chin with the backs of his fingers thoughtfully. He was considering the girl in front of him like an exhibit at an art gallery. “That’s rather contrary to the point of my existence. But seeing as I’ve promised to leave you alive, I suppose I do owe you some measure of courtesy.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone, which he then shoved into Alice’s bound hands. It was held there until she was able to grasp it. He had forgotten that the last thing he looked at on the device was her Facebook profile.
“Suppose I believe you’ll cooperate.” Sasha moved around Alice, taking her around the shoulders, and then picked her up gently with an arm under her knees. It was gentler, at least, than carrying her over his shoulder like a conqueror's prize. “If we make it all the way to your house without you dialing the police, I’ll unbind you and you can pack your own bags.” She would have to make do with her hands the way they were. Her fingers could still move, at least.
The “projects” she wanted to bring along were probably moot. It was unlikely they would make it back in time for Alice to still be employed, if she survived the process at all. But if it kept her busy, Sasha decided he didn’t want to be struggling with her all the way to France.
“We’ll see what I can do about your ‘expenses’.” Sasha carried Alice out of the shop, pausing to glance down the darkened street. He ducked back in a moment, waiting for someone on the other side of the block to disappear, then emerged with the girl in his arms. It wasn’t long before he turned down an alley, making for a car he parked nearby. “Defying legend, I’m not extraordinarily wealthy, but not having to pay for rent or food helps curb my usual expenses.”
“All life is merely the illusion of choice,” Sasha muttered, busy binding fabric around Alice’s wrists as she lectured him. For a moment he considered the fabric’s softness and wondered if it would make a comfortable gag.
And then a promise to, as she put it, make it easy. It was enough to force Sasha to pause and glance up at her, just as he tied a final knot over her wrists. There was some sort of comedy to the idea that a girl bound up before him was now setting the terms, as if she still had all the leverage.
He leveled his brown eyes at her, as if bored with her offer. For a moment he looked unbelievably ancient.
“What sort of life do you think I lead, I wonder?” Sasha mused, mostly to himself. It hadn’t occurred to the girl yet what she was truly dealing with. Why would it? Monsters existed only in fantasy, or as CGI in films, or as brooding boyfriends in girl’s stories. It wouldn’t even occur to her that anything like that could exist in the real world.
That, of course, was simultaneously the work of the monsters themselves, and the ones who hunted them. The only tandem effort shared by otherwise opposed factions. Most of the time, anyway.
He sighed.
“I don’t usually deal with humans on their terms.” Sasha crossed his arms, and rubbed the underside of his shaven chin with the backs of his fingers thoughtfully. He was considering the girl in front of him like an exhibit at an art gallery. “That’s rather contrary to the point of my existence. But seeing as I’ve promised to leave you alive, I suppose I do owe you some measure of courtesy.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone, which he then shoved into Alice’s bound hands. It was held there until she was able to grasp it. He had forgotten that the last thing he looked at on the device was her Facebook profile.
“Suppose I believe you’ll cooperate.” Sasha moved around Alice, taking her around the shoulders, and then picked her up gently with an arm under her knees. It was gentler, at least, than carrying her over his shoulder like a conqueror's prize. “If we make it all the way to your house without you dialing the police, I’ll unbind you and you can pack your own bags.” She would have to make do with her hands the way they were. Her fingers could still move, at least.
The “projects” she wanted to bring along were probably moot. It was unlikely they would make it back in time for Alice to still be employed, if she survived the process at all. But if it kept her busy, Sasha decided he didn’t want to be struggling with her all the way to France.
“We’ll see what I can do about your ‘expenses’.” Sasha carried Alice out of the shop, pausing to glance down the darkened street. He ducked back in a moment, waiting for someone on the other side of the block to disappear, then emerged with the girl in his arms. It wasn’t long before he turned down an alley, making for a car he parked nearby. “Defying legend, I’m not extraordinarily wealthy, but not having to pay for rent or food helps curb my usual expenses.”
Sounds interesting, though the fascist fetishism is a bit offputting. Hopefully this will be presented in shades of grey?
It's just an rp man. If you don't like the themes, no one's forcing you to participate.
I didn't get "black and white" good and evil from this. What I got is Bleakland horror, where life on earth is hell. Reminds me very much of the portrayal of daily life in the Netflix Castlevania series. It's dirty, bloody, and death is a daily fact. Won't be surprised if there's a pile of bodies outside every village.
It can't be black and white because it's all black. Evil is everywhere, especially in the church, though the common folk seldom realize that. Good exists, but it's hidden and elusive, though I suspect the sinners will have some in them.
There's an art to this sort of misery-porn setting. Usually it's very poorly done, but this has potential. Often the theme is that the world can be redeemed if the withering good in the world is found, protected, and nurtured. Some kind of drastic allegory for real life or human history or the inner soul or something something.
I don't see this as fascist-fetishism. And I don't see the problem with calling fascism what it is. The DM welcomed criticism, which is noble, but it seems like this is being criticized for not being more like different, safer, and more popular themes.
That said, I'd like to throw in my interest.
Edit: initially quoted the wrong person.
Interested.
“Alice,” Sasha chided, almost parental. “I’ve imposed well beyond my welcome and now I’ve all but assaulted you. Do I seem like someone who makes appointments?”
Without waiting for her to respond, he adjusted his grip so that he had better leverage over her waist and arms. Then, with one hefty swing, Sasha lifted Alice up off the floor, and then even higher, settling her meager weight up on his shoulder. Holding her fast with one arm, now freeing the other, he began to search the shop for something suitable for his needs.
“Look, I’m really not a bad person,” he assured her, beginning to sound mildly exhausted. He carried her across the shop, toward rolls of linens. “If I was, I would have been dead long ago. Most of my mates ended up just so for being bastards. But this is important, and I can’t take chances.”
Attracted to a thick roll of patterned cloth, sporting a gold hexagonal design over a backdrop of deep red, Sasha moved up and began to put the fabric free, bunching it up in his hands to serve as bindings. Already he had begun wrapping Alice’s calves together to restrict their movement.
“Listen! I n—” Sasha sighed, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I need this. Alright? At the end, I promise you can go free. You can even tell the authorities all about me, where I am, all that. They won’t find me anyway. But I need to help my father.” He paused a moment and added, “Alasdair, your ancestor.”
Sasha offloaded the girl onto her feet, now wrapped up to her knees, but he still kept drawing fabric. He kept hold of one of her wrists and seemed prepared to bind her arms as well.
“The door lock is broken, you won’t show up for work tomorrow. I’ll topple some things.” Sasha shrugged, pulling fabric taut between his hands. “No one will blame you for not doing your job. They’ll just assume you’ve been kidnapped by some brute who broke in.”
He tilted his head.
“Suppose they’d be right, come to think of it.”
Without waiting for her to respond, he adjusted his grip so that he had better leverage over her waist and arms. Then, with one hefty swing, Sasha lifted Alice up off the floor, and then even higher, settling her meager weight up on his shoulder. Holding her fast with one arm, now freeing the other, he began to search the shop for something suitable for his needs.
“Look, I’m really not a bad person,” he assured her, beginning to sound mildly exhausted. He carried her across the shop, toward rolls of linens. “If I was, I would have been dead long ago. Most of my mates ended up just so for being bastards. But this is important, and I can’t take chances.”
Attracted to a thick roll of patterned cloth, sporting a gold hexagonal design over a backdrop of deep red, Sasha moved up and began to put the fabric free, bunching it up in his hands to serve as bindings. Already he had begun wrapping Alice’s calves together to restrict their movement.
“Listen! I n—” Sasha sighed, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I need this. Alright? At the end, I promise you can go free. You can even tell the authorities all about me, where I am, all that. They won’t find me anyway. But I need to help my father.” He paused a moment and added, “Alasdair, your ancestor.”
Sasha offloaded the girl onto her feet, now wrapped up to her knees, but he still kept drawing fabric. He kept hold of one of her wrists and seemed prepared to bind her arms as well.
“The door lock is broken, you won’t show up for work tomorrow. I’ll topple some things.” Sasha shrugged, pulling fabric taut between his hands. “No one will blame you for not doing your job. They’ll just assume you’ve been kidnapped by some brute who broke in.”
He tilted his head.
“Suppose they’d be right, come to think of it.”
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