Rhaevnn Xeno

The Prophecy

Pain coursed through Morgan's being - his leg gushed red as the vampire could feel himself winning. The boy had proven to be more comptent than his previous quarry, but Morgan's face split into a feral grin. Panic was in his prey's eyes, a sure sign that--Morgan's scream ripped through the alley as he could feel the quick twist of the arrested blade, its sharpened edge digging beyond his gloves and into his pale flesh. Instinctively, Morgan loosened his grip, realizing too late his mistake as he felt a heavy boot punch itself into his chest. The vampire rose to a crouching position, pushed by the ferocity of the blow. It is here that Morgan's bloodlust took control.

Almost.

The world began to become red as long fangs beared themselves with a bloodchilling hiss. 'This is how it en--' A sprinting figure caught the vampire's eye at the last possible second. Looking, Morgan realized that the sprinting figure was coming to aid his fallen prey, blade drawn, face as hard as the city's streets he ran upon. Every fiber wanted to feast, to rip out the throat of his boy. But Morgan's time was up - he had been noticed, and experience had taught him the boy was not worth the trouble. Without a word, Morgan's bloodied, dark form ran down the alley, escaping the now unfavorable fight with a vampire's unnatural speed.

The Prophecy

Morgan's violent action created a jumble of flesh and steel - in the long run, it had resulted in the way it would, but far more advantageous for the vampire's quarry than for the vampire. Morgan's covered eyes did not stop watching the boy, even in the deseperate call for a halt hit Morgan's ears, "STOP!!!" In the midst of his next action, Morgan wondered, 'How many times have I heard this last plea?' Too many times, probably. It always seemed to be the last words of a victim or some other individual who managed to get in the way of the vampire. Like many before the squire, curiosity was going to kill the cat again.

The boy's blind swing of his blade proved to be true - the training of the young man had kicked in and would have forced any mortal to move away from the arcing weapon, in fear of recieving a terrible injury, or worse, losing a limb. However, Morgan was no mere man.

The blade would sink past the cloth that covered the vampire's legs, and into the pale flesh, metal scraping against bone, as blood already began staining the dark left pantleg. The boy would no doubt feel a surge of adreniline now, a flash of victory before his young eyes - after all, hitting your enemy would give anyone this feeling. But how would he feel when Morgan's swift limbs already reached for the boy's arm and blade, terrible strength attempting to break the limb that held onto the blade that had struck the vampire's now injured leg? How would he react to the sharp intake of air, a beastal hiss of pain raking the air around the boy's ears?

Morgan's strong grip would latch onto his foe's wrist and blade. The thick gloves would help against the cutting of the vampire's flesh, as the left hand swiftly, viciously twisting the young man's wrist without remorse, Morgan's right hand attempting to rip the blade from the boy's grasp. The vampire could feel his lips peeling back, revealing fangs from under the dark cloth that covered his throat and mouth. Blackened eyes widened, the crimson irises vivid under the mask that hid any true expression from the Viper's boy.

'Control - Stay in control...'

But with the blood spilling, and already so much effort already being expended -- how much longer could Morgan hold back the beast?

The Prophecy

@Shienvien I'll get a post up tomorrow/Friday. Caught the stomach bug yesterday and uh. Yeah, it's been not fun.

The Prophecy

Hmm, I'm not entirely certain I've gotten the various details right in my head - Morgan is going into a slide forward feet first (for all intents and purposes, he's lying flat on his back at the end of his maneuver as intended). He will let go of his staff with one hand to try and punch Jordan, rather than use the staff against him. But I kind of can't really tell where the quarterstaff itself is at that point. Morgan is still holding onto the quarterstaff with his left - I imagine he was seemingly going to have it connect with Jordan's head or either shoulder, had he been any closer (fake aimed at the chest/abdomen?), but I can't really figure out where the following upward arc took it relative to Jordan...

@Shienvien

Ahk, sorry for the confusion, Shein.

More or less, Morgan's downward, diagonal swing is going for Jordan's left collarbone. However, once the attack is reversed, the butt of the staff will be making an upward, diagonal swing towards Jordan's hands while simultaneously going for the low blow with Morgan's right hand. (Hopefully, this clears up Morgan's actions). This is bring down with a smooth "baseball slide" between Jordon's legs, where (as you assumed) will have Morgan flat on his back.

I image the staff's reversed strike will not be as strong as Morgan's usual strikes, due the cramped situation, but its meant for a disruptive attack vs a full blown strike.

Good to know about Jordan's blade as well. I had first pictured the weapon to be a longsword, but then I thought you had written it to be from the top of his blade to the end of his hilt. XD

The Prophecy

It all happened so fast, but Morgan was surprised - the boy was fast, at least by human standards. Managing to pull away just enough to avoid being pummeled to the ground, the young man even managed to get into a defensive position, back to the wall, his small blade flashing in the sunlight as both hands curled around its worn handle.

"Shoot the messenger, will you?"

The voice of his opponent reflected the frantic beating in his chest - or so said Morgan's ears as the vampire paced counterclockwise, three steps to Jordan's left. Morgan looked quickly over his shoulder; had anyone heard the loud voice of the boy? The sniffer's attention snapped back to Forthey.

"I'm the least of your problems. Interest doesn't matter, sometimes. It's just not how things are."

'Can't give in. Focus.' In times of stress, it was harder and harder for Morgan to keep his other self at bay. Already, the distressed breathing and the rapid beating of the boy's lungs and heart were causing the beast to strain at its mental chains, desperately clawing for the blood that coursed through the apprentice's veins. But this boy was not like other, more easily obtained breakfasts - he was trained. Morgan was no truly trained fighter, but even he could recognize the position that Forthey had taken. It was easily dependable with a stance placed between himself and Morgan. But it was then, under his metal mask, Morgan's lips pulled into a thin frown. 'Deja'vu.'

An image flashed into his head - a guard, a full witness to the murders of three bloody meals, fearfully backed against a wall, sword centered at Morgan's bloodlusted face. The beast did not hesistate - charging forward, it fully took the spear to the chest, but kept moving forward through the blade to seize the screaming protector and begin draining the life from the bewildered guard.

Such a solution would be too messy - people would search for this young man and there would be an ugly trail that would be difficult to cover. 'But if I am assuming too little--' Morgan's body hurled forward, weapon raised vertically, right hand over left. To those who could see the swift action, the top of the weapon came hurdling downward...only to reverse its action. Somewhere in between Morgan's form sliding low to the dusty ground and raising his left arm to swiftly spin his weapon's downward momentum into an upward arc, the right hand released from his weapon to deliver an uppercut the space between Jordan's spread legs, apply a blunt force none too gently to the nether-region. The tactic? To redirect attention, hopefully bump the hard stance upward while simultaneously disabling the boy. A risky maneuver, with obvious consequences, but Jordan was correct - if the vampire managed to get close enough, the struggle would be over.

If all went well and according to plan (but when does this ever happen?), Morgan would feel his booted foot tap against the stone wall behind Jordan as the pain stricken boy collapsed on top of his legs.

'--I could be in the military's hands in hours.'

The Prophecy

@Rhae: How long is the quarterstaff Morgan uses exactly? Also posted; let me know if I'm notably off with something.

@Shienvien

He's using an average sized quarter staff, so 7 or 8 feet (2.1 or 2.4 m) in length, roughly. Also, everything looks good - exactly as Morgan planned! ;D (but not really, haha). I'll try getting up a post in the next few hours at the earliest, or by tomorrow at the latest!

The Prophecy

At the risk of a double post, I apologize for the shorter posts @Shienvien, but I want to make sure I'm not going too far ahead/assuming too much when writing. Don't want to miss any of that juicy interaction!\]

Also @Dark Jack, could we get The Viper and his apprentice on the front OOC page with the rest of the characters? It'd be helpful so I don't have to keep going back in the pages to read the character sheet every time I have a question. (For your convenience: Viper's CS)

The Prophecy

'How does he know?' Morgan's gait slowed at the beginning of Forthey and then stop all together at the mention of helping him -- or was it his party. The mask looked over a half turned shoulder, the dead eyes giving the apprentice a long hard look. The vampire could hear the boy's increasing heartbeat as Morgan fully turned back to his accuser, responding dully, "You think you know so much, assuming that I have someone to meet or that you could be useful in the event I was meeting someone.. The cloaked man moved forward slowly, his leather-bound hand clenched around the knobbed weapon that was parallel to the horizontal ground below it. "I have no interest helping you, your master, or the law, but you would know this--"

In a blur of motion, Morgan sprinted forward. If Forthey could not dodge the unnatural action, Morgan would plant the butt of his weapon against the center of the boy's chest, attempting to knock him down and with full intention to knock the wind from the apprentice's lungs. Morgan finished his sentence, "--If you really knew anything."

However, if Forthey had truly been trained well, Morgan would be absolutely surprised at the boy's speed. 'I see now why his master is called "The Viper."' The vampire would mentally comment, using the momentum of the attack to rebound into an acrobatic flip. Catching himself against the stonework after a twisted front flip, Morgan was already preparing for the boy's retaliation.

The Prophecy

...Curious, though; I'd imagine cities would be much more dangerous.

@Shienvien

Absolutely! But I imagine that Morgan is learning that it is more and more difficult to hide where guards are a thing. That, or he imagines it'll be too difficult to hide in a small village/town. Or maybe he has the mentality of an addict: the 'drugs' are often much easier to find where there is civilization -- high risk, high reward, and all that :P

Anyway, I tried leaving some options open for you, Shien. I don't think Morgan is too keen on making conversation this "early" in the morning, but I have feeling he's just being grumpy.

The Prophecy

"This is Forthey, apprentice of the Viper."

'An apprentice?' Morgan was slightly taken aback by this, allowing silence to fill a pause in the conversation. The beast was hungry, but this was not boy was not to be breakfast. 'He'll be missed. Too connected, too inconspicuous, too...' Morgan's mask looked down at the boy looking up at him, 'Too full of potential.' A thoughtful frown pulled across the sniffer's face. 'An apprentice...'

'...Of "The Viper." Whoever the blazes that was.

Whoever it was, it sounded official, authoritative, and most of all dangerous. Morgan gave off a small groan as he did a quick squat before gracefully leaping from his perch, hitting the stonework below lightly, the practiced motion giving off little more than a quiet click against the street. This boy, even if he was someone's boy, was already asking too many questions. "Forthey" was being inquisitive, investigative, annoyingly nosy. Even if he was a boy, all it would take is to ask the right question. With a trained twirl, the masked man's staff spun once before planting its butt onto the stone with a sharp tack!, "Then no, Forthey, errand boy of 'The Viper,' I do not know anything on the supposed happenings of Zerul, whateverintheplanesthatis." Morgan's voice would drop to an eventual mumble, his voice's tone stiff and chilly as he made to move past the boy and away from the rising rays of the sun...

If Jordan made no attempt to stop the vagrant from brushing past his leather suited form, he would see Morgan make his way down the quiet street, and into a new, narrow passage between two large buildings, away from the warm rays of light that grew with each passing moment...

If Jordan made to grab a hold of the mysterious beggar before him, either physically or even verbally, Morgan would whirl about, snarling in almost a completely different, an animal-like growl replacing the collected, cold voice that the boy had only heard moments ago. "I don't know anything, boy!" A tight hand that grasped at the loose cloth around Jordan's neck (assuming his cloak) would immediately loosen, the gloved hand retracting into its owner's own cloak as Morgan pulled away, desperating collecting himself continuing down the alley more swiftly, "Hack! I-I know nothing, as I said..."

'It isn't worth it, it isn't worth it...'