Michael Serafino's Story

Times are changing. Gone are much of the forests, the clear rivers, the shining blue of the ocean. Gone now are the simple days where hunting meant survival, where the failure to do so meant death. Now is the era where technology and money rule. No longer are the immortals feared--at least by most. They are fantasized about, romanticized. Much of it is popular, but fictitious. The immortals are more vulnerable--and yet far stronger-- than ever. War is coming to the Race of Races.

Are you prepared? Which "side" do you pledge yourself to?

Michael -- 100 years ago(give or take)
Michael hummed to himself as he walked home, cheerful with a beautiful raven haired maiden wrapped around his arm. One of the girls serving drinks at the tavern he worked for; the plan was to take her home, meet up with his brother, walk with him until their paths parted for the night. Then get some sleep to prepare for the next night.
She's cute, he thought as he watched her walk through her door, But not what I'm looking for... He ran a hand through his hair, walking along with his eyes closed, the thin wire frames of his lenses in one hand. He didn't have to see his brother Remiel to know exactly where he was. There was a faint tug toward him in his mind--that and the fact the two met in the exact same spot almost every night. Everything was so normal as they began their way home...
That was the last "normal" thing about that night. Something grabbed him from behind, covering his mouth so quickly he dropped his glasses. Even if he could see, there was no time to react: pain shot through his ribs as a blade narrowly missed the critical spot, then through his neck, as though someone had stabbed him with a broken fork. His arms felt heavy, he was cold all over. He only vaguely saw a shape grab his brother in similar fashion as something was pressed to his lips; the sweet liquid was forced down his throat, but only for the first few gulps. After that, he had latched on, drinking deeply, for it was the only thing keeping him alive now....

Burning.... Something was burning.....


Michael--Present Day

Michael choked back a scream as he sat bolt upright, shoving his burning sheets off the bed onto the stone floor. Away from anything else that would catch, he coaxed the fire into dying down, every muscle trembling with the effort to control himself and get past the distraction. Without any conscious decision, he sought out his brother's mind, looking for some serenity, something to ground himself with. He glanced at the clock while he searched : two twenty-two. Lunchtime for mortals. Too early for him.
Once again, his past had ruined what should have been a good day's sleep. With a growl, he climbed out of bed, shoving his glasses so hard onto his face he cut the bridge of his nose. He stalked from his room, down the hall to his brother's, and sat in front of the door.

The sun was coming over the horizon, it was hurting his eyes just to look at it. A burn was spreading over his chest and he knew Michael was being burned alive. He heaved through the ropes that had his arms and legs bound then rushed outside, moving in front of his brother in order to block the worst of the suns rays.
Burning, his back was burning and he knew he would die if stayed there much longer. He managed to make it back to the house, hauling them both inside to the blissful shade. A hand reached out slapped his face. The throbbing took a front seat, spreading from his head, cheek, and down his throat. A ringing rose in his ears, his vision turning red as the ache in his throat became the sole thought in his mind. He attacked whatever had slapped him, his fangs elongated to sink into the soft yielding flesh. His mind crushed any resistance that was felt coming from the creature he held; his prey falling obediently limp. The other prey did the same, staying still for him and not making a sound. There was so much red, it was warm, and soothing, his throat didn't hurt anymore, and it was sweet....so sweet...

Present Day

Remiel tossed in his nightmare of the past. His brow furrowed in discomfort at the clouded and hazy memory. The sheets and bedding were rumpled and tangled around his sprawled body, his head underneath one of the plush pillows. He felt his brother's presence float alongside his own, the connection always calming them both, grounding them to the here and know. It took only a small amount of conscious thought to make sure that his brother wasn't prying. He never let that specific memory slip; not wanting Michael to know exactly what happened, though he knows what the end result was. Through their connection he could tell that his brother was agitated and outside the door.
With a groan and a glance at the clock he forced himself to his feet. It was too early to be moving but he went and opened the door, his hair a rats nest on top of his head and in front of his eyes. He pushed it out of the way and stepped aside for Michael. "Couldn't sleep again....?"

"Couldn't sleep again?" Michael, now lying on his back and rubbing his head, looked up at his brother. The sleepy irritation was impossible to miss, but it was more that 'I just woke up' feeling than 'Really, again?'. At least, to Mike it was. Seeing those sleepy eyes and the messy bedhead his brother sported, he knew he'd been dreaming also, but knew better than to pry. He hated being shut off from Rem. He sat up again slowly.

"Ain't that the truth... I keep dreaming of our Turning, and the night the Pair brought us here... Haven't gotten a decent sleep in months. Hell, I almost turned myself into a bonfire again. We have to get out for a while. I don't care how far, how long. I can't stay locked up in a single place, Rem... Dresses and tailored suits and balls and fifteenth century politics--if I have to talk with one more of those ditzy Noble daughters with the attention span of a flea and the attractiveness of a goldfish I'll kill someone at the party. Just for a little chaos." His words only made half-sense to his ears, but they were nonetheless true: he was tired of this outdated version of order, and he had stopped paying attention to the court girls as he became more intrigued by the outside world. "Let's go to Bloodlust tonight. None of the Nobles would be seen in a modern place. They would think because they wouldn't, we wouldn't. It'd be peaceful--in comparison, at least..."

He nodded in agreement to his brother. Everything that happened in the palace was so out of touch with the times that is was nearly smotheringly so. All of the born vampires are so uptight and lost in their ways he was surprised that they hadn't been discovered by the humans sooner.
"Yes...a bit of chaos would be welcomed. Doubt I could sit through another one of their structured parties..."
He shuddered at the thought of having to get into another one of the stifling suits that was specially made for him and having to dance with the Noble's daughters. A night at Bloodlust would be refreshing and energizing; plus he liked the modern style of things and gadgets that they had. He often snuck out and procured modern technology that he found interesting which he kept in his back room away from prying eyes that would take them away from him. He doubted even Michael knew everything he had in his little hideaway.
"Soon as the sun's down we can sneak out the back...skip out on whatever is planned for tonight, get some fresh, sweet blood... Want to spend the rest of the day in here?"

Michael looked up at his twin, gratitude obvious--on his face, from their mental connection, and from his own ability. "If you don't mind, Brother..." A smile tugged at his lips as he changed his tone, a mockery of their "parents'" formal speech. He got up, forcing himself not to sway as he planted his feet, and bowed low. "I would be honored to keep you company." He glanced up through his bangs and winked, the relief still clear in his presence. He knew--as did his brother, although Michael refused to admit it--that every once in a while, he needed someone rather than was needed.

Remiel chuckled at his brother's over dramatic bow and speech. He was well aware that they both hated and regularly made fun of the way their "parents" spoke and acted. It often gave him a headache to be in their presence for more than a few hours nowadays. He reached out a tussled his brother's hair; which he figured he would get grief about it. However, from the clear look of relief that was on Michael's face perhaps the reprimand won't be that bad. He smiled sleepily and stepped aside for him to come inside the dark room.
Whereas Michael had stone in his room to avoid spreading fire that he may cause, Remiel liked the softer things. He had rugs spread over the floor, well cushioned chairs and couches, and many plush pillows spread across the large bed. It was large enough to fit four so there was plenty of room for the two of them. He sat down on his side and yawned, running a hand through his hair to somewhat tame it. Why he bothered he didn't know, it was going to be messy again in an hour once he fell back to sleep anyway. He would worry about that later when they got ready to go. It was due time they got out of the house and did something normal for once.

Michael frowned as Rem ruffled his hair, and waited for him to turn his back. He tackled his brother as he was fixing his hair, wrapped an arm around his neck, and ground his knuckles into the top of his head. In the couple times he had watched TV, he had seen this done among friends or brothers. Humans called it a "nuggie", or something like that. He didn't care what the term was; it was funny, watching his brother squirm. With a laugh, he let go. "Stop messing with my hair." He grinned as he said it to soften the words; he hated it, but he hated seeing--and feeling--Rem upset more. With a fanged smile he flopped onto the enormous, plush bed. He was envious of the softness his brother got to have; Michael was afraid of burning himself alive, but missed these comforts. With Remiel though, his nightmares stayed in the corners of his mind, keeping the curse/gift he had obtained Turning dormant. In his twin's presence, he could relax completely in the cushions.

Remiel squirmed in his brother's grasp, his knuckles dragging across his skull and the arm around his neck kept him in place for the mild torture. The things called nuggies hurt and he thought of turning the tables and doing the same to Michael a few times; but he knew he would get pummeled instead. However, the look on his brother's face may be worth the try.
He smiles as Michael told him not to mess with his hair then proceeded to fall backwards over the plush pillows.
He knew that his brother rarely got to experience such soft luxuries on his own and only got relaxed enough to not burn anything when Remiel was around.
He stretched his arms over his head and plopped down onto the nest of a bed and pulled a pillow over his head for the remaining of the day.

Remiel could tell as soon as the sun had set because his body refused to stay asleep against his wishes. Once in awhile he could get himself to sleep for another hour or two but today it didn't feel like that was going to be a possibility. He sat up slowly so as not to wake Michael and made his way to his closet. It was filled with nothing but what their parents deemed was "proper" attire for court and their near constant lessons in etiquette and such.
He brushed them aside and went to the sliding panel door that was seamlessly against the back wall. This lead to his stash of modern clothing and in further was his private room of what TV told him would be labeled a "man cave". He had leather couches, a low table that had a few empty cans of soda and chip baggies, he managed to aquire a large TV, a radio and surround sound system, as well as a few knick knacks that he purchased.
For now he only picked out the clothes that they would need for their time out. They would need to blend in with the humans and not raise suspicion. He grabbed an outfit for himself and Michael then closed the panel. He went back to the bed and spread the clothes over his brother. "Rise and shine. If we wanna sneak out it better be soon."

Michael


Michael groaned softly as the clothes were draped across his body, feeling around with clumsy paw-slams until he found his glasses. He shoved them onto his nose, made sure they weren't crooked, and sat up slowly. The dramatic move was very similar to the zombie-rising movement that Movie-Vamps did: Eyes fully open, the mind functioning perfectly but the body not quite responding. His throat burned, and his entire body ached. He hated using blood slaves or the nobles at the parties, and refused to drink bagged blood. Donors were tasty, but not nearly strong enough. He hadn't fed on anything fresh and afraid in a few weeks now, and his body longed for it.
He changed sluggishly, fumbling briefly with the charcoal dress shirt's shiny buttons. He reached for the tie, decided against it. instead, he went for something a little more casual. He kept all the buttons done though; he didn't want anyone seeing his burns. This somewhat limited his ability to dress in modern fashions; getting to wear black, torn jeans and a heavy pair of steel toed boots made everything worthwhile though. Going back to his room, he picked out a heavy steel chain with a compass rose pendant. The lovely bit of "costume jewelry" was his favorite, and didn't come at the price of the Royal gems. He wore it in place of the tie, the gray-on-black ensemble making his pale skin paler, his eyes brighter. He picked a jacket to match his eyes, just to attract a bit more color to his appearance. With a nod to his twin as he emerged, he headed down the servants' stairs, knowing they'd be asleep for easily another hour.

He was certainly ready to paint the town red tonight. Not that the humans would ever know.

Remiel glanced at his brother and chuckled at his dramatic "Rise of the Living Dead" impersonation as he sat up and fumbled for his glasses. He turned back to his closet of normal clothes and started changing. Pulling on a black muscle shirt, torn black skinny jeans and some comfy scuffed combat boots that had metal studs at regular intervals he was nearly done. Next he slipped on an array of armbands. They had band names, some phrases humans used regularly that were somewhat lost on him, and some had images of skulls or vampire teeth. A few had small chains that matched the one across his thigh that he hooked on to keep his wallet close. Not that he would need protection, he would be able to deter any thief, but he liked the chains and kept it on. Lastly he looked through a few jackets he had. He pulled out a leather one and slipped it on. It snug close to his arms and torso as he zipped it up only half way. It was still roomy and allowed him to move but it accentuated his frame and allowed for the impression of what else was there.
After ruffling his hands through his hair he followed his brother down the servants' stairs. Once downstairs they came into the back of the kitchen and he waved Michael to the outside door. He held the door open for him and glanced around the back garden, picking out the path that lead towards the outer gate and pointing it out.

Michael

Michael relaxed as he and his brother roamed the street where many of the human clubs were located. He kept his eyes closed as he walked, humming to himself cheerfully. The raw burn was still in his throat, but the further they had gotten away from the palace the more he felt like he could breathe. He headed into Bloodlust with his head held high, the look on his face both one of a royal and that of a regular at the club. A new girl was pushed over to him by her friend; the nervousness that coursed through her was more than enough to sate his desire for unease. He ran a hand through her hair, using his own calm glee to cool her nerves. She all but went limp in his arms when he sank his fangs deep, a low growl of approval escaping from deep in his chest. She was sweet, light, with the faintest hint of chocolate ice cream and coffee. He drank deep, pulling her close, but was careful not to take a fatal amount. He liked this one. No sense killing her. Not for a long while...

Remiel smiled and nearly chuckled at his brother. The girl pushed over to him falling into his arms compliant as he fed from her. He shook his head and made his way over to the bar and sat down on one of the stools. The walk over to Bloodlust had been refreshing and allowed him to relax and feel the minds of others besides the boring staff and nobles.
He ordered a drink for himself and watched the humans and vampires roaming around the room. There were groups scattered among the soft couches with vampires feeding on the willing or unsuspecting. He glanced over at the night club part, a dance floor with lower lighting that was already in place and music that was just loud enough for vampires to be comfortable. There were younger of both species dancing with each other, pressed closed and a few feeding from one another.
He licked his lips at the prospect of fresh blood. He didn't overly crave the terror and panic like Michael did, but human blood was always sweet enough to satisfy when it wasn't forced upon him like it often was in the palace. He watched the females walking around and smiled at a few trying to pick out the best one.

Michael
(Bloodlust)
Michael assisted the swaying human girl into a plush chair near the bar, running a hand through her hair before perching onto a stool and allowing himself to relax. He listened to the heavy thump from the music, tuning out the horrible, nonsensical lyrics so he could enjoy the display before him. The writhing mass on the dance floor was nearly as hypnotic as the swirl of the Balls and Galas at the palace, but with a genuine feel. These people were here to enjoy themselves, perhaps find a snack to take home for the night. New laws had been made that said they couldn't kill these take-home meals, simply because they were likely to be discovered. That made all of these humans even more comfortable around the nightlings they knew existed, and made it easier to find food that would willingly keep itself for a long time.

Galen
(Club/Bar District streets) Galen followed his Empathy toward the shifter pub with a frown. He wasn't supposed to go in there, but something was dragging him toward whoever was hurt inside. As he got closer, his gift helped him understand more: the young shifter was female. As was often the case with shifters, this was a hunting injury. A bad one. {i]She has care, though,[/i] he reminded himself. He and the barkeep were on good terms, so long as he didn't come in. The guy was good, although not meant to be an Angel so far as he could sense. He would take care of the girl.

We don't guard Immortals, Council... Why do I sense you want me to watch her...?

Remiel finished the drink he had ordered and got up from the stool. With a glance and nod to his brother he went towards the dance floor among the writhing mass of bodies that resided there. He tuned out the lyrics and instead let his body move to the feel and beat of the music. It wasn't that hard to feel the momentum of the people and start moving fluidly and freely with them. It was relaxing despite the slowly growing ache in the muscles that arose from keeping a constant movement going. He would gladly take this interaction that being dressed up and forced to act like the perfect doll in during the Galas and parties.
He watched the females that gravitated towards him, pressing close and each vying for his attention. He breathed in their scents and pulled the sweetest smelling one close. She blushed as he moved her hair aside off her neck and placed a kiss on her smooth skin. The others looked pouty and he gave them a "pretty boy" smile that told them they would be next. He did always like sampling more than one.
With that thought he swiftly sunk his fangs into the exposed shoulder of the girl; holding her close as he sucked and let the sweet flavor fill his mouth.

Michael

Michael watched his brother's fluid movements with a dark grin. The girl had gone right up to Rem, completely willing putty as he embraced her. A few of the jealous ones impatiently stalked off the floor, offering wrists or necks to Michael. After denying a few, he selected one of the regulars, a favorite of his. She was all but addicted to their bite, and the reward of blood that came after. He chuckled softly as she sat in his lap boldly, tilting her head back so far some might have thought it'd fall off. With a hungry growl, he sank his fangs deep into her throat.

Remiel

After nearly twenty minutes of listening the fast paced music and taking a taste from several of the women that came to him, he was bored. There wasn't much sport in the act of getting a good meal any more. There were so many willing people that the hunt was no longer a part of the process. One could just come to a place like this and females nearly threw themselves on the vamps. Not to mention all the ones their mother and father kept in the palace as well. All of them were ready to offer themselves up to be fed on.
He said goodbye to the females and detached himself from them to go back to his brother. He made his way through the people and back to the bar on the stool besides Michael. "This didn't turn out to be as interesting as I thought. Shall we go somewhere different?" <To the boundary perhaps? See if we can get a shifter?>
It wasn't often someone could easily get a willing shifter to give their blood. They were all predatory beings and the shifters had more animal type instincts. That combination gave it more of a thrill if you could manage to get one. Plus, their blood tasted much different than the humans and he was bored of what they had to offer.

Michael smiled hungrily, his brother's boredom mirroring his own. "It's dead tonight... Let's go. We'll see what we can find, before Mother sends her Creature after us..." He often referred to the Advisor/ Executioner as his mother's creature.The man was bloodthirsty and half mad--exactly the sort to lead at their parents' side. Shifters are fun... but their blood is often so bland or bitter.... At least to me; we can chase one, but unless there's a good fight in it, I have no interest in attacking it. Too bad Angels are so hard to sniff out; been a long time since we found one... And that one they had found wasn't much fun except as a sparring partner. He'd had too good a point; if they'd drained him, there'd be one less of their kind, one less delicious source. That, and he ensured healthy lives for the humans vampires fed on. Having an Angelic ally would help them later, when they took the Throne.

Remiel nodded in agreement to his brother and lead him out of the club and into the night. Their mother's "employees" were often a bit more ruthless than others; giving her all the advice she wanted to hear. He often wondered if they went through trainings to become that way, or if their mother had truly brainwashed them, or if they even had moral senses to begin with. Either way, a few of them gave him the creeps and he avoided them at all costs.
He glanced up at the sky and noticed that the moon was nearly dark. It used to work to their benefit but with artificial light now there was no difference on the street between night and day. True that there isn't much reward in the taste factor of it. But it does bring back the rush of the Hunt doesn't it? He glanced at his brother through his bangs and smiled, Don't want to get fat now do you? Being pampered all the time? He chuckled and headed towards the boundary that separated the Vampires from the Shifter side of town. Perhaps his comment would earn him a hit or playful slap. But if he was the only one who could ever tease his brother without serious repercussions then he was going to take advantage.