Introduction
“According to legend, The Harbingers were formed in the Ancient World to fight off Demons, Vampires and the grotesque abominations created from the minds of men; the most notorious of which was the Lycanthrope. Blessed with extraordinary ability and supernatural talents, the very mention of their name could strike fear into not only the denizens of the great cities and villages, but into the very heart of darkness itself. They were the first and last line of defense against the terrors of the night; and then they were gone.” (Louis Van Helsing -1922)
Harbingers is a Role Play set in the modern world. The setting will be in the fictitious city of Pandora. The game play will be mission based or episodic; with a focus on character development. There will be an overall plot, but for now it's a secret and will be revealed little by little as the game progresses. For now just think of it as a baddie of the week...er chapter type of game.
Your role in this RP will be that of the Harbingers. Harbingers are made up of Hunters (Humans who took it upon themselves to rid the world of the evils that plague it) and Slayers. (Individuals born with extraordinary abilities that nearly match that of their prey)
Slayers: are born with extraordinary abilities, granting them greater speed, agility, strength and heightened senses. They are every bit the match for your standard Vampire, but often need backup when dealing with four or more. Higher class Vampires and Lycanthropes are never taken on alone. Slayers are orphans and nearly all of them are adopted into Families within a secret society known as Watchers. A Watchers job is to raise and prepare Slayers for their future. An Ill trained Slayer is a dead one. However not all Watchers are tied to duty, some of them become true parents, in the vain hopes that their children can live normal lives. Sadly this never works out; as the gifts of the Slayer often make them social pariahs.
Hunters: while Slayers may be born with extraordinary ability, it is unwise to underestimate Hunters. The very fact that they can fight against these creatures is worthy of admiration. Indeed, they are gifted; perhaps even in tune with the ethereal. Hunters are masters of survival and often an expert in one or more combat forms. They are well versed in the lore of their prey and often attack in groups with uncanny strategy. Hunters often need a boost when dealing with higher level encounters; ever resourceful they came up with an alchemical potion that does just that.
They call it Nocturne. A powerful drug that grants the user a temporary boost on the level of a Slayer. However, the drug is dangerous and can often have side effects that are detrimental to the psyche. The price for power is most often night terrors within an augmented reality. The more one uses the drug, the worse it gets, to top it off it is highly addictive.
These are the enemies your characters will be facing (for now) and the known data on them. (subject to change)
(From the Helsing data files)
Vampires: A menacing race of blood suckers, with a bit of a god complex. Vampires believe they are divine and the next evolution of mankind. Over the years vampires have become the subject of legends; indeed many a tale has been told of their shape shifting powers granting them the ability to turn into mist, bats and wolves. These legends however are born of the vampires true power; the power of illusion. The mind of an average human being, while powerful, is often easily fooled. One might find themselves the unwitting victim believing them safe in the midday sun, when in fact they are enthralled and it is the middle of the night. Illusion is a powerful weapon, but what truly makes vampires frightening is their immense strength. Vampires know how strong they are and all to eager to display their power.
Vampires are not without their weaknesses. Ultraviolet light is often debilitating with minor exposure and fatal during prolonged periods. They are also susceptible to fire, decapitation and destruction of their heart. Another weakness or possibly a quirk is their need to be invited into someones dwelling. Perhaps they developed their powers of illusion to make entry into a victim's home a much easier task. Whether this is a mere quirk or not, there are rumors of vampires expiring when they entered a place uninvited. If one is cunning enough, this may be a viable defense against them. One must remain steadfast and strong of will lest they come under a vampire's spell.
It is important to note that destroying a vampire's heart is no easy task. Vampires are all to aware of their weaknesses and are often experts at protecting themselves. To top it off, adaptation has played its own role in their survival. The ribcage of a vampire is like a suit of armor, making it difficult to pierce the heart from the front or back without a suitable weapon or sufficient strength. Merely piercing the heart will not kill them however, but it will paralyze them. The heart must be cut in twain to insure destruction. In fact it was once common practice to remove the heart all together, but such practices are barbaric and hardly warranted.
:|=
Lycanthropes: Perhaps humanity's greatest folly; the Lycanthrope is a true abomination. Fear was the motivator to create this vile creature. Since the earliest times of humankind, it has been known that wolves are one of the animal kingdoms greatest hunters. They are cunning trackers and adept at luring prey into a trap, but above all; they are loyal. This loyalty made them the natural choice when a religious sect took it upon themselves to create the perfect vampire killing machine, they turned to forbidden, archaic, alchemical science. While the method has been lost to the sands of time, the result is a creature no longer human, nor are they wolf. It is believed that the original Lycans were volunteers believing they were fulfilling a divine duty. Whatever they believed at the time however, was lost the moment they transformed.
Popular literature would have us believe that Lycanthropes or Werewolves as they are commonly referred, are capable of living normal lives, save for once or twice a month when they go on a rampage as a blood thirsty beast. This sadly is a fairy tale and nothing more. Much like the Vampire, the Lycan is dammed the moment they experience the change. While classified as a virus, the elixir that created the Lycan is in fact a Mutagen. Once Mutation takes place, there is no going back. The mutation is excruciating to say the least. I don't believe it is possible to imagine what the victim goes through. When the change is happening, it often breeds resentment and anger towards those around it. It is in this maddening state that a Lycan will lash out, kill and in many cases devour anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way. Perhaps this is why the Lycanthrope is not as loyal as it was believed it would be.
It is important to note the that the mutagen can be canceled before the initial change sets in. It takes a gestation period of 30 days, or one month before it can take effect. Once mutated however, the change is permanent. Lycans are most dangerous when they are new; perhaps driven by fear and confusion. They do eventually calm down though and are able to live their new existence away from those that would threaten it. Much like their ancestors, they have a pack mentality and the loyalties that go with it. They can not however, be domesticated. There is also the possibility of them becoming feral, which makes them a danger to Human and Vampire alike.
Lycans, like Vampires can be difficult to kill. The mutagen coursing through their system acts as a healing agent when wounded. If you can manage it, decapitation is the surest way to destroy them. However, given their agility and strength this is no easy task. According to legend however, Werewolves have a weakness to silver. This is one legend that indeed holds up. Silver seems to stop the mutagen in its tracts; meaning if you can introduce silver to a vital organ, such as the heart or the brain, it will die. The legend falls short however, when it comes to the method of delivery; sliver is much too soft a metal to be used as ballistic ordnance. Modern science however has made this feasible through the use of Silver Nitrate. (Xander Helsing -1995)
Harbingers is a Role Play set in the modern world. The setting will be in the fictitious city of Pandora. The game play will be mission based or episodic; with a focus on character development. There will be an overall plot, but for now it's a secret and will be revealed little by little as the game progresses. For now just think of it as a baddie of the week...er chapter type of game.
Your role in this RP will be that of the Harbingers. Harbingers are made up of Hunters (Humans who took it upon themselves to rid the world of the evils that plague it) and Slayers. (Individuals born with extraordinary abilities that nearly match that of their prey)
Slayers: are born with extraordinary abilities, granting them greater speed, agility, strength and heightened senses. They are every bit the match for your standard Vampire, but often need backup when dealing with four or more. Higher class Vampires and Lycanthropes are never taken on alone. Slayers are orphans and nearly all of them are adopted into Families within a secret society known as Watchers. A Watchers job is to raise and prepare Slayers for their future. An Ill trained Slayer is a dead one. However not all Watchers are tied to duty, some of them become true parents, in the vain hopes that their children can live normal lives. Sadly this never works out; as the gifts of the Slayer often make them social pariahs.
Hunters: while Slayers may be born with extraordinary ability, it is unwise to underestimate Hunters. The very fact that they can fight against these creatures is worthy of admiration. Indeed, they are gifted; perhaps even in tune with the ethereal. Hunters are masters of survival and often an expert in one or more combat forms. They are well versed in the lore of their prey and often attack in groups with uncanny strategy. Hunters often need a boost when dealing with higher level encounters; ever resourceful they came up with an alchemical potion that does just that.
They call it Nocturne. A powerful drug that grants the user a temporary boost on the level of a Slayer. However, the drug is dangerous and can often have side effects that are detrimental to the psyche. The price for power is most often night terrors within an augmented reality. The more one uses the drug, the worse it gets, to top it off it is highly addictive.
These are the enemies your characters will be facing (for now) and the known data on them. (subject to change)
(From the Helsing data files)
Vampires: A menacing race of blood suckers, with a bit of a god complex. Vampires believe they are divine and the next evolution of mankind. Over the years vampires have become the subject of legends; indeed many a tale has been told of their shape shifting powers granting them the ability to turn into mist, bats and wolves. These legends however are born of the vampires true power; the power of illusion. The mind of an average human being, while powerful, is often easily fooled. One might find themselves the unwitting victim believing them safe in the midday sun, when in fact they are enthralled and it is the middle of the night. Illusion is a powerful weapon, but what truly makes vampires frightening is their immense strength. Vampires know how strong they are and all to eager to display their power.
Vampires are not without their weaknesses. Ultraviolet light is often debilitating with minor exposure and fatal during prolonged periods. They are also susceptible to fire, decapitation and destruction of their heart. Another weakness or possibly a quirk is their need to be invited into someones dwelling. Perhaps they developed their powers of illusion to make entry into a victim's home a much easier task. Whether this is a mere quirk or not, there are rumors of vampires expiring when they entered a place uninvited. If one is cunning enough, this may be a viable defense against them. One must remain steadfast and strong of will lest they come under a vampire's spell.
It is important to note that destroying a vampire's heart is no easy task. Vampires are all to aware of their weaknesses and are often experts at protecting themselves. To top it off, adaptation has played its own role in their survival. The ribcage of a vampire is like a suit of armor, making it difficult to pierce the heart from the front or back without a suitable weapon or sufficient strength. Merely piercing the heart will not kill them however, but it will paralyze them. The heart must be cut in twain to insure destruction. In fact it was once common practice to remove the heart all together, but such practices are barbaric and hardly warranted.
:|=
Lycanthropes: Perhaps humanity's greatest folly; the Lycanthrope is a true abomination. Fear was the motivator to create this vile creature. Since the earliest times of humankind, it has been known that wolves are one of the animal kingdoms greatest hunters. They are cunning trackers and adept at luring prey into a trap, but above all; they are loyal. This loyalty made them the natural choice when a religious sect took it upon themselves to create the perfect vampire killing machine, they turned to forbidden, archaic, alchemical science. While the method has been lost to the sands of time, the result is a creature no longer human, nor are they wolf. It is believed that the original Lycans were volunteers believing they were fulfilling a divine duty. Whatever they believed at the time however, was lost the moment they transformed.
Popular literature would have us believe that Lycanthropes or Werewolves as they are commonly referred, are capable of living normal lives, save for once or twice a month when they go on a rampage as a blood thirsty beast. This sadly is a fairy tale and nothing more. Much like the Vampire, the Lycan is dammed the moment they experience the change. While classified as a virus, the elixir that created the Lycan is in fact a Mutagen. Once Mutation takes place, there is no going back. The mutation is excruciating to say the least. I don't believe it is possible to imagine what the victim goes through. When the change is happening, it often breeds resentment and anger towards those around it. It is in this maddening state that a Lycan will lash out, kill and in many cases devour anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way. Perhaps this is why the Lycanthrope is not as loyal as it was believed it would be.
It is important to note the that the mutagen can be canceled before the initial change sets in. It takes a gestation period of 30 days, or one month before it can take effect. Once mutated however, the change is permanent. Lycans are most dangerous when they are new; perhaps driven by fear and confusion. They do eventually calm down though and are able to live their new existence away from those that would threaten it. Much like their ancestors, they have a pack mentality and the loyalties that go with it. They can not however, be domesticated. There is also the possibility of them becoming feral, which makes them a danger to Human and Vampire alike.
Lycans, like Vampires can be difficult to kill. The mutagen coursing through their system acts as a healing agent when wounded. If you can manage it, decapitation is the surest way to destroy them. However, given their agility and strength this is no easy task. According to legend however, Werewolves have a weakness to silver. This is one legend that indeed holds up. Silver seems to stop the mutagen in its tracts; meaning if you can introduce silver to a vital organ, such as the heart or the brain, it will die. The legend falls short however, when it comes to the method of delivery; sliver is much too soft a metal to be used as ballistic ordnance. Modern science however has made this feasible through the use of Silver Nitrate. (Xander Helsing -1995)
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Ginger didn't respond to the rude tone she received, knowing she had been unpolite herself. But she asked for eggs quietly and received them within minutes as Ingrid came through the door. Minutes later, another entered. Ginger wondered just how many people she was charged with getting along with.
She ate quickly, hardly tasting the food. Her stomach gurgled quietly in gratitude for real sustenance and Ginger's eyes slipped closed for a brief moment. She felt warmer, healthier already.
Across from her the newcomer had an envelope with him and Ginger eyed it and him curiously. What sort of mail did Slayers and Hunters receive? It was then that she noticedthat he had recently been in a fight, purples and reds splotching his skin here and there.
"What happened?" she blurted out of concern. Was this how they were treated? Or was a case at hand that she wasn't aware of? Either way, if danger was near, she needed to figure out how to deal with it.
She ate quickly, hardly tasting the food. Her stomach gurgled quietly in gratitude for real sustenance and Ginger's eyes slipped closed for a brief moment. She felt warmer, healthier already.
Across from her the newcomer had an envelope with him and Ginger eyed it and him curiously. What sort of mail did Slayers and Hunters receive? It was then that she noticedthat he had recently been in a fight, purples and reds splotching his skin here and there.
"What happened?" she blurted out of concern. Was this how they were treated? Or was a case at hand that she wasn't aware of? Either way, if danger was near, she needed to figure out how to deal with it.
Ingrid sipped her tea while observing her charges. It was nice to see them together like this, even if it was just by chance. The more they hung out together, the stronger they would become. The bond between warriors could be a powerful friendship and if her intuition was correct, they were going to need each other more than ever, in the near future. There was something in air, a shift in the wind was about to take place and it sent a chill down her spine. Vageryn had always been a keen observer of the world around him, but lately he'd been spending every waking moment following underground world events. His drive to acquire more Slayers and Hunters was worrying. When it was just the two of them, they were more than enough to handle what the city could throw at them. The Slayers did their part and they did theirs. Hell, she wondered if Vageryn even needed her? Never in her life had she met anyone with his skill and ability. Though now that she thought about it, she couldn't recall the last time he went on a hunt.
As she stared at her cup, lost in her thoughts, another thought occurred to her. Vageryn referred to them as a family, but weren't they just people with the same goals living under one roof? She knew Vageryn intimately, but really knew nothing about the people who followed her orders. Was a leader supposed to know their troops in a personal way, or was her job just to trust in their ability? What did they think of her? Vageryn would scold her if he knew she was having thoughts like this, but despite her actions out in the field, she was very much concerned with the weight of her position. What did he see in her exactly?
>><><<
The sound of a gong rang through the lavishly decorated brothel. One by one women that were a true feast for the eyes lined up before the potential client, each adorned in an identical outfit, each wearing their best smile, but neither of them betraying their desire. Their eyes glistened when they saw the man standing in the foyer. A high roller they called him, a man of wealth and apparently very fine tastes. Men like him often came during the early hours to be discrete. They were often people of high position, lawyers, doctors and politicians, even a few religious types. This man was familiar to some of the girls, but they never fit his exotic tastes. Oddly enough, he preferred the company of the Madam, but on occasion he would choose one of the more exotic girls. The girls waited patiently as the client looked them over, a few of them blushing when he got close. The man was certainly easy on the eyes, his features were almost other worldly, masculine yet angelic.
The Madam walked into the foyer wearing an exquisite burgundy Victorian Gown. A string of pearls ringed her neck and an imitation ruby ring adorned her right, third finger. A woman of regal manner and beauty, she believed in taking care of herself and expected the same of her girls. Believing in a healthy diet and an equal appetite for life, she had aged well. Only the most critical of eyes could spot the fact that she was a woman of fifty. With the grace of a duchess she approached her long time friend. “Mr Arn, a pleasure to have you once again, in this fine establishment.”
“The pleasure is all mine Madam,” he said with a bow. “You look lovely as always Olivia.”
“Girls, this man is not a client, he is a friend. Treat him well.”
“Yes Madam,” they said in unison.
“Do any of my girls strike your fancy?”
Vageryn walked over to one of the girls and greeted her with a smile. “Who is this ravishing beauty before me?”
“My name is Tatyana, but most of my clients call me Ebony Honey.”
Without taking his eyes off Tatyana, he said, “I'll take her.”
Olivia clapped her hands signaling the other girls to leave. “What's your pleasure this morning?” she asked him.
“Bondage.”
A sequel of glee escaped the lips of his pick along with the words “Baby, you really know how to pick em'. I am going to rock your world.”
“Wonderful. I'll leave you two to it then,” Olivia said as Ebony, led Vageryn to the 'dungeon'. “That girl has no idea what she's in for.”
:/=
Ebony laid on the silk canopy bed, her wrists and ankles bound to the bed posts with satin rope. Vageryn was tightening the last rope, much to her pleasure; he'd be a fun one. “Are you secure? You can't escape?”
Tatyana feigned pulling on the ropes. “I can't escape," she said in mock defeat.
“Don't play games, really try. If you can escape, I'll reward you.”
Ebony raised an eyebrow. “I see.” This time she pulled hard against her bonds, but they didn't budge. Damn, this guy ties really good knots. Time to surprise him. With increased effort she pulled against the ropes, jerking the bed in the process, but still they held. What the hell? Why can't a I break them?
“Come on! Break free!”
“I... I cant! You tied them too well.”
“I see. So even your vampiric strength can't help you?”
Alarm bells started going off in her head, she needed to flee, but she was bound completely. Realizing she was going nowhere, she stopped struggling and stared at the ceiling. “Fuck. Let a Slayer get the drop on me. I knew there was something off about you. Damn my libido. So what are you planning to do to me... Slayer?” The last word was said with bitter distaste. “
“It's simple.” Vageryn grabbed a chair and sat in it casually before continuing. “I'm going to ask you two questions and you are going to be very fourth coming with the answers. If you refuse to cooperate, you'll experience a world of terror like you've never known.”
Ebony struggled futilely against the ropes again. “I can't tell you anything, he'll kill me.”
“Who? I assure you, he will know nothing of this encounter. The seal I used will prevent your master from knowing anything. I'll tell you what. I'll sweeten the deal. If you cooperate, I'll let you go, unmolested.”
Seal? ...Those little caresses! Clever bastard, but also intriguing. “Everything inside me is telling me to flee, but there is this feeling that you are a man of your word. I like the letting go part, but not so sure about...”
“It's not going to happen.”
“Damn. Fine, ask your questions.”
“Excellent. Now, who is your Master and what are your coven's plans?”
“My Master is Gavin, he's an Elite. I think he's 1800yrs old. We have no real plans. We're being kept in check by a powerful Elite rumored to be the oldest. He has some plan for the world, but we don't know what it is. We don't really want any part of it either. We have a good system in place. Why screw it up?”
“I see.”
“You look disappointed. I'm not as important as you thought?”
“No. When I saw that you maintained much of your human appearance without the need for a strong illusion, I knew your master was an Elite, but Gavin is no threat.” Pausing for a moment, “It was every thing you know...right?”
“Yes. I'm not about to fuck with you. My Master's memories flow through the blood in my veins and he fears you like the Dalaks fear The Doctor.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Don't you watch television?”
“Er, not usually.”
“Google it. Now, are you going to let me go?”
Vageryn stood up from the seat and walked over to the bed then removed the seals from the bonds around her wrists. With both hands free, she quickly embraced him, pulling him into a kiss; it was a short but forceful one and she knew better than to let it linger. Please don't kill me. “Sorry. I just had to have a taste.” Vageryn removed the rest of her bonds without a word, then headed for the door.
When he reached the door he turned back to face her. “Tell Gavin to watch his back.”
“The Slayer is concerned for my Master? Or was that a threat?”
“If I were a Slayer, it could be taken as such; if I were a Slayer.” Vageryn left the room leaving Ebony with a puzzled expression. Olivia met him in the hall with cell phone in hand, ready to dial the clean up crew. “That won't be necessary. Ebony will continue her services here. She won't be a problem.”
Thank you Vageryn. I'm glad it went well. I honestly didn't believe she was a danger. It's nice to know they aren't all monsters.”
“They are monsters Olivia, but they're not all evil. True evil exists, but the modern world has yet to experience it. They throw around the word easily enough, but they have no idea what it means.”
As she stared at her cup, lost in her thoughts, another thought occurred to her. Vageryn referred to them as a family, but weren't they just people with the same goals living under one roof? She knew Vageryn intimately, but really knew nothing about the people who followed her orders. Was a leader supposed to know their troops in a personal way, or was her job just to trust in their ability? What did they think of her? Vageryn would scold her if he knew she was having thoughts like this, but despite her actions out in the field, she was very much concerned with the weight of her position. What did he see in her exactly?
>><><<
The sound of a gong rang through the lavishly decorated brothel. One by one women that were a true feast for the eyes lined up before the potential client, each adorned in an identical outfit, each wearing their best smile, but neither of them betraying their desire. Their eyes glistened when they saw the man standing in the foyer. A high roller they called him, a man of wealth and apparently very fine tastes. Men like him often came during the early hours to be discrete. They were often people of high position, lawyers, doctors and politicians, even a few religious types. This man was familiar to some of the girls, but they never fit his exotic tastes. Oddly enough, he preferred the company of the Madam, but on occasion he would choose one of the more exotic girls. The girls waited patiently as the client looked them over, a few of them blushing when he got close. The man was certainly easy on the eyes, his features were almost other worldly, masculine yet angelic.
The Madam walked into the foyer wearing an exquisite burgundy Victorian Gown. A string of pearls ringed her neck and an imitation ruby ring adorned her right, third finger. A woman of regal manner and beauty, she believed in taking care of herself and expected the same of her girls. Believing in a healthy diet and an equal appetite for life, she had aged well. Only the most critical of eyes could spot the fact that she was a woman of fifty. With the grace of a duchess she approached her long time friend. “Mr Arn, a pleasure to have you once again, in this fine establishment.”
“The pleasure is all mine Madam,” he said with a bow. “You look lovely as always Olivia.”
“Girls, this man is not a client, he is a friend. Treat him well.”
“Yes Madam,” they said in unison.
“Do any of my girls strike your fancy?”
Vageryn walked over to one of the girls and greeted her with a smile. “Who is this ravishing beauty before me?”
“My name is Tatyana, but most of my clients call me Ebony Honey.”
Without taking his eyes off Tatyana, he said, “I'll take her.”
Olivia clapped her hands signaling the other girls to leave. “What's your pleasure this morning?” she asked him.
“Bondage.”
A sequel of glee escaped the lips of his pick along with the words “Baby, you really know how to pick em'. I am going to rock your world.”
“Wonderful. I'll leave you two to it then,” Olivia said as Ebony, led Vageryn to the 'dungeon'. “That girl has no idea what she's in for.”
:/=
Ebony laid on the silk canopy bed, her wrists and ankles bound to the bed posts with satin rope. Vageryn was tightening the last rope, much to her pleasure; he'd be a fun one. “Are you secure? You can't escape?”
Tatyana feigned pulling on the ropes. “I can't escape," she said in mock defeat.
“Don't play games, really try. If you can escape, I'll reward you.”
Ebony raised an eyebrow. “I see.” This time she pulled hard against her bonds, but they didn't budge. Damn, this guy ties really good knots. Time to surprise him. With increased effort she pulled against the ropes, jerking the bed in the process, but still they held. What the hell? Why can't a I break them?
“Come on! Break free!”
“I... I cant! You tied them too well.”
“I see. So even your vampiric strength can't help you?”
Alarm bells started going off in her head, she needed to flee, but she was bound completely. Realizing she was going nowhere, she stopped struggling and stared at the ceiling. “Fuck. Let a Slayer get the drop on me. I knew there was something off about you. Damn my libido. So what are you planning to do to me... Slayer?” The last word was said with bitter distaste. “
“It's simple.” Vageryn grabbed a chair and sat in it casually before continuing. “I'm going to ask you two questions and you are going to be very fourth coming with the answers. If you refuse to cooperate, you'll experience a world of terror like you've never known.”
Ebony struggled futilely against the ropes again. “I can't tell you anything, he'll kill me.”
“Who? I assure you, he will know nothing of this encounter. The seal I used will prevent your master from knowing anything. I'll tell you what. I'll sweeten the deal. If you cooperate, I'll let you go, unmolested.”
Seal? ...Those little caresses! Clever bastard, but also intriguing. “Everything inside me is telling me to flee, but there is this feeling that you are a man of your word. I like the letting go part, but not so sure about...”
“It's not going to happen.”
“Damn. Fine, ask your questions.”
“Excellent. Now, who is your Master and what are your coven's plans?”
“My Master is Gavin, he's an Elite. I think he's 1800yrs old. We have no real plans. We're being kept in check by a powerful Elite rumored to be the oldest. He has some plan for the world, but we don't know what it is. We don't really want any part of it either. We have a good system in place. Why screw it up?”
“I see.”
“You look disappointed. I'm not as important as you thought?”
“No. When I saw that you maintained much of your human appearance without the need for a strong illusion, I knew your master was an Elite, but Gavin is no threat.” Pausing for a moment, “It was every thing you know...right?”
“Yes. I'm not about to fuck with you. My Master's memories flow through the blood in my veins and he fears you like the Dalaks fear The Doctor.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Don't you watch television?”
“Er, not usually.”
“Google it. Now, are you going to let me go?”
Vageryn stood up from the seat and walked over to the bed then removed the seals from the bonds around her wrists. With both hands free, she quickly embraced him, pulling him into a kiss; it was a short but forceful one and she knew better than to let it linger. Please don't kill me. “Sorry. I just had to have a taste.” Vageryn removed the rest of her bonds without a word, then headed for the door.
When he reached the door he turned back to face her. “Tell Gavin to watch his back.”
“The Slayer is concerned for my Master? Or was that a threat?”
“If I were a Slayer, it could be taken as such; if I were a Slayer.” Vageryn left the room leaving Ebony with a puzzled expression. Olivia met him in the hall with cell phone in hand, ready to dial the clean up crew. “That won't be necessary. Ebony will continue her services here. She won't be a problem.”
Thank you Vageryn. I'm glad it went well. I honestly didn't believe she was a danger. It's nice to know they aren't all monsters.”
“They are monsters Olivia, but they're not all evil. True evil exists, but the modern world has yet to experience it. They throw around the word easily enough, but they have no idea what it means.”
Aleister nodded to Hilde with a quick grin of his own. It was nice to see a sense of humour in an organisation purposed to hunt and kill monsters.
Feeling his usual chipper self--at least, usual insofar as his habit was concerned--Aleister grew more delighted as the Harbingers slowly trickled into the room. There was no formal ceremony to greet him as a new recruit, just a brief, business-like tour courtesy of the Red Menace, so it was nice to get to see those with whom he would be working for the next... well, he would probably continue working under Vageryn's watchful eye until the day he died. At any rate, based on the dispositions and demeanours of the other inhabitants of Arn Manor, Aleister gathered situations like this one were few and far between, and he considered himself lucky to be a part of one so quickly in his new career. Personal introductions would come at their own pace, but for now he could attain some measure of understanding of the group dynamics at play with this lot.
One thing he didn't need this little breakfast club to understand was the air of mild trepidation the underlings seemed to have around Ingrid. It wasn't terribly obvious, like she was exuding some inexorable stench from which the others were actively trying to hide; rather, it was this sense that everyone in the room was pointedly aware of her every movement. It took a little while longer, perhaps because of Aleister's previous interactions with Ingrid, but eventually he noticed the same treatment towards Nathaniel. If he were looking just at Hilde, he'd write it off as her apparent knack for studying people--it would take a right plonker to miss the almost cybernetic examination she made of him upon first seeing him--but others were doing it as well. Inwardly Aleister shrugged; one of the unfortunate perks of being a Slayer, he guessed: everyone paid attention to you. In a way, it was nice. Fewer people paying attention to him.
At the very least, Ingrid seemed to be too engrossed in her own thoughts to accord him any more admonishing glares.
Wesley Pratchett sat silently and stone-still in the back seat of the cab. The only words he had spoken since departing from the manor were instructions for where to take him. The cabbie was respectfully acknowledging Wesley's privacy and keeping his eyes and ears focused on the world outside the vehicle. In the dim silence of the back, Wesley merely stared down at the book in his lap. It was open to the same page as when Vageryn had handed it to him.
Raziel's Tablets... the Tree of Knowledge... The vampires are already moving. What do they know? What have they found? The implications... As his first movement in twenty minutes, Wesley wiped a hand over his forehead and back along to the base of his skull, where it lingered a moment before languidly dropped back to his side. At the same time, he let out a brief, worried huff.
"We're here," the cabbie said in a strange European accent, breaking both the silence and Wesley's trance.
"Hmm?" Wesley looked out the window and saw the small private airport where a small private jet was waiting for him. The sky had darkened, and a light drizzle had started; Wesley hadn't even noticed. It was certainly an ominous atmosphere for his business. "Oh, right. What do I owe you?" His gazed remained fixed on the white jet in the background.
"One thousand roubles," the cabbie said matter-of-factly.
Wesley snapped back around, confusion besetting his pale features. "What?"
The cabbie barked a quick and hearty laugh, then threw a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the digital metre in the back. "Lighten up, my friend! This weather will get the best of you."
Wesley forced a cheap smile as he examined the metre. He pulled a couple notes from his wallet and handed them over. "All yours, mate." The cabbie nodded his gratitude as Wesley stepped out, then pulled away.
The Watcher tucked the book into his jacket and clutched it protectively. It was a gesture to protect the tome from the rain, but it represented so much more than that. A pilot in a black uniform came out of the nearby control house to greet him.
"Ready for take-off, sir?"
Wesley nodded. "Right. Back to London."
Feeling his usual chipper self--at least, usual insofar as his habit was concerned--Aleister grew more delighted as the Harbingers slowly trickled into the room. There was no formal ceremony to greet him as a new recruit, just a brief, business-like tour courtesy of the Red Menace, so it was nice to get to see those with whom he would be working for the next... well, he would probably continue working under Vageryn's watchful eye until the day he died. At any rate, based on the dispositions and demeanours of the other inhabitants of Arn Manor, Aleister gathered situations like this one were few and far between, and he considered himself lucky to be a part of one so quickly in his new career. Personal introductions would come at their own pace, but for now he could attain some measure of understanding of the group dynamics at play with this lot.
One thing he didn't need this little breakfast club to understand was the air of mild trepidation the underlings seemed to have around Ingrid. It wasn't terribly obvious, like she was exuding some inexorable stench from which the others were actively trying to hide; rather, it was this sense that everyone in the room was pointedly aware of her every movement. It took a little while longer, perhaps because of Aleister's previous interactions with Ingrid, but eventually he noticed the same treatment towards Nathaniel. If he were looking just at Hilde, he'd write it off as her apparent knack for studying people--it would take a right plonker to miss the almost cybernetic examination she made of him upon first seeing him--but others were doing it as well. Inwardly Aleister shrugged; one of the unfortunate perks of being a Slayer, he guessed: everyone paid attention to you. In a way, it was nice. Fewer people paying attention to him.
At the very least, Ingrid seemed to be too engrossed in her own thoughts to accord him any more admonishing glares.
Wesley Pratchett sat silently and stone-still in the back seat of the cab. The only words he had spoken since departing from the manor were instructions for where to take him. The cabbie was respectfully acknowledging Wesley's privacy and keeping his eyes and ears focused on the world outside the vehicle. In the dim silence of the back, Wesley merely stared down at the book in his lap. It was open to the same page as when Vageryn had handed it to him.
Raziel's Tablets... the Tree of Knowledge... The vampires are already moving. What do they know? What have they found? The implications... As his first movement in twenty minutes, Wesley wiped a hand over his forehead and back along to the base of his skull, where it lingered a moment before languidly dropped back to his side. At the same time, he let out a brief, worried huff.
"We're here," the cabbie said in a strange European accent, breaking both the silence and Wesley's trance.
"Hmm?" Wesley looked out the window and saw the small private airport where a small private jet was waiting for him. The sky had darkened, and a light drizzle had started; Wesley hadn't even noticed. It was certainly an ominous atmosphere for his business. "Oh, right. What do I owe you?" His gazed remained fixed on the white jet in the background.
"One thousand roubles," the cabbie said matter-of-factly.
Wesley snapped back around, confusion besetting his pale features. "What?"
The cabbie barked a quick and hearty laugh, then threw a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the digital metre in the back. "Lighten up, my friend! This weather will get the best of you."
Wesley forced a cheap smile as he examined the metre. He pulled a couple notes from his wallet and handed them over. "All yours, mate." The cabbie nodded his gratitude as Wesley stepped out, then pulled away.
The Watcher tucked the book into his jacket and clutched it protectively. It was a gesture to protect the tome from the rain, but it represented so much more than that. A pilot in a black uniform came out of the nearby control house to greet him.
"Ready for take-off, sir?"
Wesley nodded. "Right. Back to London."
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As she sat at the table with the group, Ingrid, had the impression that they were waiting for something. If it was a mission, they'd be disappointed; their prey was nocturnal after all. Still, it did give her an opportunity. Vageryn, might not agree, but he couldn't shelter them forever. If this group is going to be the future of The Harbingers, then they needed to have nothing holding them back. When they're ready, he would say, but the reality was, it wasn't possible. No one is prepared for the truth. “It isn't often that we get a moment like this. I'd like to tell you all a story. You might call it a turning point in my life.”
“A few years ago, I received a mission from my Watcher, Keven, he was kind, but strict task master and as he would often put it, not long for this world. The mission arrived by letter as they often did and I set out upon my task. I was to investigate and eliminate any Vampire threat at an old abandoned apartment complex. There were rumors of people disappearing in the area and it was believed a Coven may have been holed up in one of the buildings. I'll admit, I was a bit arrogant. The Watchers believed me capable of eliminating a Coven, and as much as I'd like to say that it was my overconfidence that lead to the following events, it wouldn't be the truth. Anyway, I arrived at the apartments just after sundown. It wasn't long before I was noticed and could feel the eyes upon me. When I entered the first building the smell of death nearly knocked me over. There was a heaviness in the air and I could feel my senses dull as I walked the dark hallways. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hall and I readied my pistols. The first wave came from down the hall. I remember the loud hissing they used to elicit fear, but I was no ordinary prey. I watched as they fell one by one; each with hole in the head they'd never recover from. I gave the bodies a faint smile when the scent of burning flesh filled the air. The clean up crew would only find ash when they arrived. I won't lie to you all. I enjoyed it, watching them die; watching them burn. I wasn't that I hated them, I just enjoy my work.”
“Remember I said that my senses felt dulled? I didn't know it at the time, but a gas had been released throughout the complex. It wasn't enough to incapacitate me. No, they wanted their prey to feel like they had a chance, and it worked quite well. It was subtle, but effective. A slayer without their senses is like a blind man stumbling through unfamiliar territory. The vampires, oh they were smart, in the beginning they came at me with reckless abandon, they were loud and easy targets, but it was a smoke screen. They were fledglings; eager to serve their master. The others however, were masters of stealth. They crept up on me, I knew they were around me, but not where. I fired a couple rounds into the darkness, it did nothing to deter them, they knew I was helpless and so did I. Despite my training and my ability, I was afraid. I placed my back against the wall to prevent being jumped from behind, but I was only prolonging the inevitable. A door crashing open could be heard to my left and stupidly I spun toward the noise. Before I could fire at the rapidly approaching shadow I was seized from behind. I could feel the fingers of my captor interlock at the back of my neck. The approaching shadow drove a fist into my solar plexus, knocking the air from me. My captor let me go and I fell to the floor gasping; desperately trying to fill my lungs. I was given no time to recover. One of them grabbed me by the hair and flung me into the opposite facing wall. I remember an explosion of color when my head slammed against the drywall and the hand of the victor gripped my throat. The creature hissed in my face in triumph then grabbed the zipper on my catsuit and pulled it down. I was tossed the floor, barely conscious, a dozen hands grabbed me, tearing my clothing, exposing my flesh. I closed my eyes and let the darkness claim me. I remember hearing a word before I lost consciousness. Feast.”
Ingrid paused a moment to take a sip of tea. As her eyes scanned the table she could see that her story had gotten their attention. How did it end, they must wonder? Obviously she didn't become a meal for the vampires, so what had happened? At the moment she was unsure if she wanted to continue, it was a painful memory and she may regret reliving it, but it would be rude to leave them hanging. With a heavy sigh she continued.
“Much to my surprise it was not the afterlife that greeted me upon awaking, but a lavishly designed bedroom. The owner was quite fond of burgundy and gold. I sat up when I caught the scent of blood. It was then that I noticed my clothes. They were folded neatly on a cushioned stool next to the bed. Even my guns were there, though the magazines were nowhere to be seen. Seeing my clothes made realize my nakedness, despite this, I still had to check. A female voice spoke from across the room, “They're repaired, encase you're wonderin'.” I said thank you before I realized I wasn't alone. I turned to face the woman sitting in a chair, a strikingly beautiful woman draped in a satin gown, her legs crossed in a very lady like manner. A wine glass held by the stem was swirling in her left hand; the scent of the blood's origin. Needless to say I was quite surprised. As if anticipating my unspoken questions the woman began to answer them. “Right now, you're probably wonderin' why you were spared, why you're naked and if I'm what you think I am? You were spared because, I get what I want. When I saw you laying there, on the floor, I thought you were the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. Why, men must trip all over themselves around you. You're naked because beauty like yours should never be covered up. Besides, undressing you a second time would be redundant.” It was at that moment that I wrapped the covers from the bed around me. It wasn't hunger I saw in her eyes; it was lust. It was an unnerving experience to say the least.”
“A giggle, was her response to my actions. She then stood up from her seat and slowly walked over to me. My first thought was to reach for my guns and end this encounter, but the lack of ammo made that impossible, so I did the next thing that came to mind. I lunged at her. I never saw her move, but before I knew what was going on I was seized from behind, both my wrists locked in her grip. The other hand pulled my hair back exposing my neck. I felt her hot breath upon it as she spoke. “Know this, Slayer, you are here because I willed it. I am indeed a Vampire, but I am not like the fodder you eagerly gun down. I am far and above anything you've ever encountered. The very thought of you attacking me shows how naive you are. I have been civil up to this point, but if you want to see the monster that you were trained to hunt, I will reluctantly comply, but I would rather we continue our evening together. So what's it goin' to be, Slayer?” What choice did I have? I decided that being civil would be beneficial to my health, so I complied. Now I won't bore... or entice you with the details of what she wanted; I'm sure your imaginations can fill in the blanks. I was told that I'd be free in the morning and despite their nature, I've never known a vampire to lie. I agreed to spend the night with her. A lesbian encounter wouldn't be so bad. Thankfully it never got that far.”
“Before we err, started, she told me her name was Minerva and that she had a gift for me, that it would only be taste. Before I could protest, she kissed me. Sliding her tongue along her fangs, she gave me a 'taste' of what it would be like to be like them. I remember the flavor of the blood and how it nearly made me sick, but the feeling passed. The truth is, I started enjoying it, so much so that I leaned into the kiss and stopped fighting it. I remember the blood flowing down my throat and a burning in my veins. I felt... powerful. Minerva seemed to like my compliance and decided to take a taste of my blood as well; and that is when things went south. I was shoved away with great force, but nothing like I expected. I was somehow able to stand against her strength. Wiping her mouth in disgust she looked at me in anger then screamed. “Those bastards! Those fucking bastards! Get out! Get out of here now!” Normally I would have left that place as fast my legs would allow me, but something had changed. I was brimming with confidence and strength and I had a mission to accomplish. Minerva saw my intent and made the first move. Her speed was incredible, but with my new found strength I was able to follow her movements. We only fought for a short time before it was over. The room looked like a wrecking crew had gone through it and I was the victor. During the scuffle I had gotten a hold of a letter opener, it wasn't the best weapon, but it was quite effective. Before I drove it into her chest, the fight left her and tears began to roll down her cheeks. I had no idea Vampires were capable of such emotions; the look of sadness was almost too much to take... almost. When the blade pierced her heart she didn't even cry out, instead she gave me a weak smile and left me with these words. “My beautiful girl, I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. You've become so strong. I'm proud of you.” They say life passes before our eyes when we die. At the time I thought the vampire was experiencing a past life and in a way she was, but I didn't exactly stop to dwell on it. I retrieved my equipment, finding my magazines in one of the wrecked dressers. When I left the room I didn't give the others the time to realize what had happened. I simply eliminated them.”
When I reached the street it started to rain. I figured, while I had the boost in ability I might as well have fun with it. I ran, faster then I've ever run; the rain a thousand needles upon my face. I reveled in it; then the memories hit. They weren't mine you see, but hers. I saw countless faces flash before my eyes. I saw places and periods in time before history was written. I saw lovers and enemies, but the strongest memories; were of me. Through her eyes I saw my infant self cradled in her arms. I heard her coo and speak her love for me. I saw a man with love in his eyes, heard him speak. “She's beautiful. Have you decided on a name?” Ingrid, was the name I heard. I stopped running and fell to my knees, tears welling up in my eyes and eventually becoming one with the rain. I slammed my fists into the ground screaming, Damn them. Damn them all to hell! I remembered how I eagerly took her life, making certain her heart was split in half. I wanted them dead. I wanted them to suffer. What kind of monsters turned a child against her own mother? I didn't act on it though, I wanted to, but I didn't. My training took over. I was a Slayer my job was to eliminate Vampires. When I made it back to HQ they weren't surprised to see me, in fact my Watcher Kevin, wondered where I had been. When I told him, he nearly got sick and apologized with sincerity. The mission had come from the top. They didn't even know who I was. I was just another slayer that had proven themselves, and was ready for a “right of passage.” The letter was sent in Kevin's name in case I lost my head. If it all went wrong, he would be the one to take the fall. That was it for me. I was done with them. I told Kevin I wanted out.”
“I had met Vageryn a couple days earlier; he told me I needed more training and that I would never reach my full potential under the care of the Watchers. When I left HQ, I found myself wandering with nowhere to go. I didn't stop wandering until I found myself on his doorstep; and the rest is history.” When Ingrid finished her tale she took another sip of tea. “So now you know. I suppose I could have just said Slayers, come from Vampires, but I used this opportunity to show you where I've been. We all have baggage, even me. Now, I know what some of you may be thinking. Did you kill your mother? It's doubtful. Vageryn made certain to pull you from the organization before that could happen. That doesn't mean you should seek them out; they're still vampires. Never forget that. Your father on the other hand was a human being with a unique gene structure."
“A few years ago, I received a mission from my Watcher, Keven, he was kind, but strict task master and as he would often put it, not long for this world. The mission arrived by letter as they often did and I set out upon my task. I was to investigate and eliminate any Vampire threat at an old abandoned apartment complex. There were rumors of people disappearing in the area and it was believed a Coven may have been holed up in one of the buildings. I'll admit, I was a bit arrogant. The Watchers believed me capable of eliminating a Coven, and as much as I'd like to say that it was my overconfidence that lead to the following events, it wouldn't be the truth. Anyway, I arrived at the apartments just after sundown. It wasn't long before I was noticed and could feel the eyes upon me. When I entered the first building the smell of death nearly knocked me over. There was a heaviness in the air and I could feel my senses dull as I walked the dark hallways. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hall and I readied my pistols. The first wave came from down the hall. I remember the loud hissing they used to elicit fear, but I was no ordinary prey. I watched as they fell one by one; each with hole in the head they'd never recover from. I gave the bodies a faint smile when the scent of burning flesh filled the air. The clean up crew would only find ash when they arrived. I won't lie to you all. I enjoyed it, watching them die; watching them burn. I wasn't that I hated them, I just enjoy my work.”
“Remember I said that my senses felt dulled? I didn't know it at the time, but a gas had been released throughout the complex. It wasn't enough to incapacitate me. No, they wanted their prey to feel like they had a chance, and it worked quite well. It was subtle, but effective. A slayer without their senses is like a blind man stumbling through unfamiliar territory. The vampires, oh they were smart, in the beginning they came at me with reckless abandon, they were loud and easy targets, but it was a smoke screen. They were fledglings; eager to serve their master. The others however, were masters of stealth. They crept up on me, I knew they were around me, but not where. I fired a couple rounds into the darkness, it did nothing to deter them, they knew I was helpless and so did I. Despite my training and my ability, I was afraid. I placed my back against the wall to prevent being jumped from behind, but I was only prolonging the inevitable. A door crashing open could be heard to my left and stupidly I spun toward the noise. Before I could fire at the rapidly approaching shadow I was seized from behind. I could feel the fingers of my captor interlock at the back of my neck. The approaching shadow drove a fist into my solar plexus, knocking the air from me. My captor let me go and I fell to the floor gasping; desperately trying to fill my lungs. I was given no time to recover. One of them grabbed me by the hair and flung me into the opposite facing wall. I remember an explosion of color when my head slammed against the drywall and the hand of the victor gripped my throat. The creature hissed in my face in triumph then grabbed the zipper on my catsuit and pulled it down. I was tossed the floor, barely conscious, a dozen hands grabbed me, tearing my clothing, exposing my flesh. I closed my eyes and let the darkness claim me. I remember hearing a word before I lost consciousness. Feast.”
Ingrid paused a moment to take a sip of tea. As her eyes scanned the table she could see that her story had gotten their attention. How did it end, they must wonder? Obviously she didn't become a meal for the vampires, so what had happened? At the moment she was unsure if she wanted to continue, it was a painful memory and she may regret reliving it, but it would be rude to leave them hanging. With a heavy sigh she continued.
“Much to my surprise it was not the afterlife that greeted me upon awaking, but a lavishly designed bedroom. The owner was quite fond of burgundy and gold. I sat up when I caught the scent of blood. It was then that I noticed my clothes. They were folded neatly on a cushioned stool next to the bed. Even my guns were there, though the magazines were nowhere to be seen. Seeing my clothes made realize my nakedness, despite this, I still had to check. A female voice spoke from across the room, “They're repaired, encase you're wonderin'.” I said thank you before I realized I wasn't alone. I turned to face the woman sitting in a chair, a strikingly beautiful woman draped in a satin gown, her legs crossed in a very lady like manner. A wine glass held by the stem was swirling in her left hand; the scent of the blood's origin. Needless to say I was quite surprised. As if anticipating my unspoken questions the woman began to answer them. “Right now, you're probably wonderin' why you were spared, why you're naked and if I'm what you think I am? You were spared because, I get what I want. When I saw you laying there, on the floor, I thought you were the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. Why, men must trip all over themselves around you. You're naked because beauty like yours should never be covered up. Besides, undressing you a second time would be redundant.” It was at that moment that I wrapped the covers from the bed around me. It wasn't hunger I saw in her eyes; it was lust. It was an unnerving experience to say the least.”
“A giggle, was her response to my actions. She then stood up from her seat and slowly walked over to me. My first thought was to reach for my guns and end this encounter, but the lack of ammo made that impossible, so I did the next thing that came to mind. I lunged at her. I never saw her move, but before I knew what was going on I was seized from behind, both my wrists locked in her grip. The other hand pulled my hair back exposing my neck. I felt her hot breath upon it as she spoke. “Know this, Slayer, you are here because I willed it. I am indeed a Vampire, but I am not like the fodder you eagerly gun down. I am far and above anything you've ever encountered. The very thought of you attacking me shows how naive you are. I have been civil up to this point, but if you want to see the monster that you were trained to hunt, I will reluctantly comply, but I would rather we continue our evening together. So what's it goin' to be, Slayer?” What choice did I have? I decided that being civil would be beneficial to my health, so I complied. Now I won't bore... or entice you with the details of what she wanted; I'm sure your imaginations can fill in the blanks. I was told that I'd be free in the morning and despite their nature, I've never known a vampire to lie. I agreed to spend the night with her. A lesbian encounter wouldn't be so bad. Thankfully it never got that far.”
“Before we err, started, she told me her name was Minerva and that she had a gift for me, that it would only be taste. Before I could protest, she kissed me. Sliding her tongue along her fangs, she gave me a 'taste' of what it would be like to be like them. I remember the flavor of the blood and how it nearly made me sick, but the feeling passed. The truth is, I started enjoying it, so much so that I leaned into the kiss and stopped fighting it. I remember the blood flowing down my throat and a burning in my veins. I felt... powerful. Minerva seemed to like my compliance and decided to take a taste of my blood as well; and that is when things went south. I was shoved away with great force, but nothing like I expected. I was somehow able to stand against her strength. Wiping her mouth in disgust she looked at me in anger then screamed. “Those bastards! Those fucking bastards! Get out! Get out of here now!” Normally I would have left that place as fast my legs would allow me, but something had changed. I was brimming with confidence and strength and I had a mission to accomplish. Minerva saw my intent and made the first move. Her speed was incredible, but with my new found strength I was able to follow her movements. We only fought for a short time before it was over. The room looked like a wrecking crew had gone through it and I was the victor. During the scuffle I had gotten a hold of a letter opener, it wasn't the best weapon, but it was quite effective. Before I drove it into her chest, the fight left her and tears began to roll down her cheeks. I had no idea Vampires were capable of such emotions; the look of sadness was almost too much to take... almost. When the blade pierced her heart she didn't even cry out, instead she gave me a weak smile and left me with these words. “My beautiful girl, I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. You've become so strong. I'm proud of you.” They say life passes before our eyes when we die. At the time I thought the vampire was experiencing a past life and in a way she was, but I didn't exactly stop to dwell on it. I retrieved my equipment, finding my magazines in one of the wrecked dressers. When I left the room I didn't give the others the time to realize what had happened. I simply eliminated them.”
When I reached the street it started to rain. I figured, while I had the boost in ability I might as well have fun with it. I ran, faster then I've ever run; the rain a thousand needles upon my face. I reveled in it; then the memories hit. They weren't mine you see, but hers. I saw countless faces flash before my eyes. I saw places and periods in time before history was written. I saw lovers and enemies, but the strongest memories; were of me. Through her eyes I saw my infant self cradled in her arms. I heard her coo and speak her love for me. I saw a man with love in his eyes, heard him speak. “She's beautiful. Have you decided on a name?” Ingrid, was the name I heard. I stopped running and fell to my knees, tears welling up in my eyes and eventually becoming one with the rain. I slammed my fists into the ground screaming, Damn them. Damn them all to hell! I remembered how I eagerly took her life, making certain her heart was split in half. I wanted them dead. I wanted them to suffer. What kind of monsters turned a child against her own mother? I didn't act on it though, I wanted to, but I didn't. My training took over. I was a Slayer my job was to eliminate Vampires. When I made it back to HQ they weren't surprised to see me, in fact my Watcher Kevin, wondered where I had been. When I told him, he nearly got sick and apologized with sincerity. The mission had come from the top. They didn't even know who I was. I was just another slayer that had proven themselves, and was ready for a “right of passage.” The letter was sent in Kevin's name in case I lost my head. If it all went wrong, he would be the one to take the fall. That was it for me. I was done with them. I told Kevin I wanted out.”
“I had met Vageryn a couple days earlier; he told me I needed more training and that I would never reach my full potential under the care of the Watchers. When I left HQ, I found myself wandering with nowhere to go. I didn't stop wandering until I found myself on his doorstep; and the rest is history.” When Ingrid finished her tale she took another sip of tea. “So now you know. I suppose I could have just said Slayers, come from Vampires, but I used this opportunity to show you where I've been. We all have baggage, even me. Now, I know what some of you may be thinking. Did you kill your mother? It's doubtful. Vageryn made certain to pull you from the organization before that could happen. That doesn't mean you should seek them out; they're still vampires. Never forget that. Your father on the other hand was a human being with a unique gene structure."
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For a very long moment Nathanial simply sat in stunned silence his mind refusing to take in what Ingrid had just told them, it was as though his mind knew that hearing such information could very well break him and needed to try and shelter him from that. Yet his mind was fighting a battle with itself one that it eventually lost, as the other part of his brain the part that felt reacted. His hands clenched first, so tightly that the cracking of the plate in his hands was audible, the knuckles so white and prominent that they almost looked as though they were going to break free of his hands. He sat there for a few moments longer as the rage built inside him, anyone looking at him would be able to see the explosion building. Nathanial fought to control himself, he tried to control it long enough so that he could escape to his room where no one would see his reaction. He disliked others seeing him so out of control, so vulnerable and yet he was powerless to stop it. It was simply too much.
He stood in one swift motion the chair falling to the floor with a crashing sound but Nathanial did not even look at it as he began to pace the room. His movements were jerky, almost clumsy even lacking his normally graceful movements. His normally expressionless face was filled with rage and anguish and he put his hands to his face as the emotions raged inside him. They were so strong and so entwined that he did not know what he was feeling, tears ran down his face yet at the same time his fury was evident in the near constant growl coming out of his mouth. He needed to hunt to kill something, anything and yet he also needed to weep, to grieve and the twon urges battled away inside him. All he could see was his wife, dead from Vampires and overlaying this image was Ingrid's words..."Slayers came from Vampires." he was created by the very monsters that killed his wife, he was as much a monster as they were, just as tainted as they were and his mind could not handle that realisation.
He stood in one swift motion the chair falling to the floor with a crashing sound but Nathanial did not even look at it as he began to pace the room. His movements were jerky, almost clumsy even lacking his normally graceful movements. His normally expressionless face was filled with rage and anguish and he put his hands to his face as the emotions raged inside him. They were so strong and so entwined that he did not know what he was feeling, tears ran down his face yet at the same time his fury was evident in the near constant growl coming out of his mouth. He needed to hunt to kill something, anything and yet he also needed to weep, to grieve and the twon urges battled away inside him. All he could see was his wife, dead from Vampires and overlaying this image was Ingrid's words..."Slayers came from Vampires." he was created by the very monsters that killed his wife, he was as much a monster as they were, just as tainted as they were and his mind could not handle that realisation.
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In the silence that followed Ingrid's morose tale, Aleister stared down at the tiny photo of his daughter he usually kept tucked into one of his inner pockets. He didn't remember exactly when he had pulled it out, or when he had removed his sunglasses and set them on the table--both very likely had happened subconsciously as he had listened to the Slayer speak, something about her words triggering an innate protective reaction in him. He pondered the implications of her words. Slayers were borne of vampires, the very devils they dedicated their lives to destroy. Even if Ingrid had not killed her mother, the thought that she was somewhere out there, a potential victim at any time must haunt her relentlessly; it was the same thought that Aleister dwelt on now as those sparkling emerald eyes stared back at him from the photo. What would he do if his daughter, the one person in the entire, cruel world he still loved, were to become such an abomination? Could he bear to continue his work? Could he bear to even keep living?
The cracking of the plate snapped Aleister sharply back into reality. The eyes in the room shifted from Ingrid to Nathanial as his pent-up rage started to spill over into the room. Being an expert in hiding things from others, Aleister could tell Nate was fighting himself as hard as he could to avoid giving anything away, although no one in that room would fault him or think anything less of him for what he might do now. The destructive power of a Slayer combined with emotional instability had the potential to level a place like Arn manor in minutes.
Aleister looked over at Ingrid. His breath was shallow; they were all deep in contemplation. "I always thought it was a gift, what you can do," he said, barely more than a whisper. "Seems now... more like a curse. An' I know a thing or two 'bout curses."
With an almost inaudible sigh he put the photo gently back into his coat and pushed away from the table, leaving his glasses there. Maybe it was out of sympathy for the way Ingrid bared her own demons for the rest of them to see, or maybe they were just starting to get too heavy.
The cracking of the plate snapped Aleister sharply back into reality. The eyes in the room shifted from Ingrid to Nathanial as his pent-up rage started to spill over into the room. Being an expert in hiding things from others, Aleister could tell Nate was fighting himself as hard as he could to avoid giving anything away, although no one in that room would fault him or think anything less of him for what he might do now. The destructive power of a Slayer combined with emotional instability had the potential to level a place like Arn manor in minutes.
Aleister looked over at Ingrid. His breath was shallow; they were all deep in contemplation. "I always thought it was a gift, what you can do," he said, barely more than a whisper. "Seems now... more like a curse. An' I know a thing or two 'bout curses."
With an almost inaudible sigh he put the photo gently back into his coat and pushed away from the table, leaving his glasses there. Maybe it was out of sympathy for the way Ingrid bared her own demons for the rest of them to see, or maybe they were just starting to get too heavy.
For a long time, Hilde was silent, unreactive even to the crashing of Damages’ chair against the tile floor. Her gaze appeared to be focused somewhere in the middle distance, neither present nor entirely absent, shadows flickering, ghostly, behind the violet irises as one hand unconsciously traced the white lines of scar tissue on her visage. She never looked in mirrors, but she knew exactly where they were, all the same. His teeth had put them there, raking over her cheek, her lips, her soul, all in a mocking parody of a lover’s kiss. She’d known this was his intent because he’d told her so, with great relish. He’d licked the wounds and the saline tear-tracks that stained her face when she’d watched her father fall, limp and cold, from his iron chokehold, murmuring low words of false, poisoned comfort into her ears, as though he were not the reason for all her suffering.
He was a monster, and she’d been given no reason to think that any of his sort were at all different from him in this.
And yet. Her remaining hand clenched vaguely on the table. She’d not crack it by dent of superior strength, because she didn’t have any. She was still now what she’d been in that moment, with him. Weak. Fallible. Breakable. Human. An insidious chill slithered up her spine. Was she now to believe that she worked with creatures like him? People who could, at any moment, lose themselves to that kind of feral impulse, betray their human sides to embrace the monster within?
Bullshit. “Bullshit,” she repeated aloud, appearing to snap from her trance. Placing her hands on her hips, she directed her stare first at Shades, who’d mentioned being cursed, and then at the Slayers still remaining in the room. “Not your story, Boss-Lady, because I believe you, I do. But bullshit that we all feel sorry for ourselves now.” She took a deep breath. She was only going to say this once, because it was taking a hell of a lot of effort to put the words together the way she wanted to.
Hilde didn’t yell; that wasn’t her style. Instead, her voice was relatively quiet, but her words were crisp, sharp, and emphatic. “So one of your folks was a bloodsucker? So what? Doesn’t change a damn thing about who you are. Are you gonna change anything about yourselves now? Are you suddenly worse people than when you woke up this morning? Humans are just as capable of being fucking monsters as anything you came from. Hell, maybe moreso, only without the fancy powers. Call it a curse if you want, but don’t you dare pity yourselves in front of me. The lot of you can do fucking amazing things, and what’s more, you’re all good enough to want to do those things. There’s nothing pitiable about that; it’s goddamn admirable.” She’d certainly always admired it, some days to the point of a creeping and bitter jealousy. The Huntress would never consider herself a good person, but she liked to think she could at least be a fair one, and what right had she to judge any of them?
Bloody hell, did she ever know what it was like to try and get out from under a parent’s shadow, and she wasn’t just talking about one of them, either. Hilde knew she was probably doing a really bad job getting her point across, but tact never was her strong suit. “You are what you choose to be, and the way I see it, you’ve chosen to be Slayers, my colleagues, and a damn good lot of people. I for one don’t give a shit who or what your parents were.”
She lapsed into silence, but refused to look down at the table, even as her cheeks colored slightly. That… had gotten away from her a bit. She’d intended to make some kind of joke about it, especially the humans being monsters part. She didn’t usually do serious, and the degree to which she felt what she was saying was somewhat embarrassing. Her hands dropped from her hips to her sides, and she sighed softly, moving to pick up the chair Damages had knocked over, setting it to rights and then gathering up the pieces of his broken plate.
She didn’t cut herself this time, disposing of the second piece of broken dishware in one day. She felt a bit like the child or unruly teenager at a gathering of adults. Their pain didn’t belong to her, not really, and it was just another way in which she didn’t fit with the rest. The line of her shoulders was tense; for once, she hadn’t meant to upset anyone, and for precisely that reason, she was afraid that she had.
Her mind was a mess, a menagerie of images overlaid with frantic song and swirls of discordant color. Every time she blinked, they were there. That vampire from yesterday, who however clumsily had tried to save her life, and him: the one who’d killed her father and taken from her all illusions or normality. Just further proof that they, too, were individuals. That they deserved to be treated like it.
This, like so many other things, was not something she had the words to say correctly.
He was a monster, and she’d been given no reason to think that any of his sort were at all different from him in this.
And yet. Her remaining hand clenched vaguely on the table. She’d not crack it by dent of superior strength, because she didn’t have any. She was still now what she’d been in that moment, with him. Weak. Fallible. Breakable. Human. An insidious chill slithered up her spine. Was she now to believe that she worked with creatures like him? People who could, at any moment, lose themselves to that kind of feral impulse, betray their human sides to embrace the monster within?
Bullshit. “Bullshit,” she repeated aloud, appearing to snap from her trance. Placing her hands on her hips, she directed her stare first at Shades, who’d mentioned being cursed, and then at the Slayers still remaining in the room. “Not your story, Boss-Lady, because I believe you, I do. But bullshit that we all feel sorry for ourselves now.” She took a deep breath. She was only going to say this once, because it was taking a hell of a lot of effort to put the words together the way she wanted to.
Hilde didn’t yell; that wasn’t her style. Instead, her voice was relatively quiet, but her words were crisp, sharp, and emphatic. “So one of your folks was a bloodsucker? So what? Doesn’t change a damn thing about who you are. Are you gonna change anything about yourselves now? Are you suddenly worse people than when you woke up this morning? Humans are just as capable of being fucking monsters as anything you came from. Hell, maybe moreso, only without the fancy powers. Call it a curse if you want, but don’t you dare pity yourselves in front of me. The lot of you can do fucking amazing things, and what’s more, you’re all good enough to want to do those things. There’s nothing pitiable about that; it’s goddamn admirable.” She’d certainly always admired it, some days to the point of a creeping and bitter jealousy. The Huntress would never consider herself a good person, but she liked to think she could at least be a fair one, and what right had she to judge any of them?
Bloody hell, did she ever know what it was like to try and get out from under a parent’s shadow, and she wasn’t just talking about one of them, either. Hilde knew she was probably doing a really bad job getting her point across, but tact never was her strong suit. “You are what you choose to be, and the way I see it, you’ve chosen to be Slayers, my colleagues, and a damn good lot of people. I for one don’t give a shit who or what your parents were.”
She lapsed into silence, but refused to look down at the table, even as her cheeks colored slightly. That… had gotten away from her a bit. She’d intended to make some kind of joke about it, especially the humans being monsters part. She didn’t usually do serious, and the degree to which she felt what she was saying was somewhat embarrassing. Her hands dropped from her hips to her sides, and she sighed softly, moving to pick up the chair Damages had knocked over, setting it to rights and then gathering up the pieces of his broken plate.
She didn’t cut herself this time, disposing of the second piece of broken dishware in one day. She felt a bit like the child or unruly teenager at a gathering of adults. Their pain didn’t belong to her, not really, and it was just another way in which she didn’t fit with the rest. The line of her shoulders was tense; for once, she hadn’t meant to upset anyone, and for precisely that reason, she was afraid that she had.
Her mind was a mess, a menagerie of images overlaid with frantic song and swirls of discordant color. Every time she blinked, they were there. That vampire from yesterday, who however clumsily had tried to save her life, and him: the one who’d killed her father and taken from her all illusions or normality. Just further proof that they, too, were individuals. That they deserved to be treated like it.
This, like so many other things, was not something she had the words to say correctly.
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The initial reaction from the group was about what she expected. Nathaniel seemed to take it the hardest; given his unwavering hatred toward vampires. Hilde was the voice of reason that everyone needed to hear. Ingrid watched her as she clumsily read them the riot act. Perhaps a bit more wordy than her own reply would've been, but it certainly got the point across. Hilde had the makings of a leader and would be a suitable replacement should anything happen to her. “Well said Hilde. Now that you know, you can move on; and we shall. Armed with this knowledge, we can now tap into your true potential. Advanced training begins tomorrow.”
At noon the tailor arrived and took everyone's measurements. Vageryn put a rush on the order and was promised the new protective gear would arrive the next day. After the older woman left, Ingrid lead the group in meditation and lecture. The topic was 'Know Yourself.' It seemed appropriate given the circumstances. After meditation came an hour of training followed by free time until sunset. When the sun fell below the horizon, it was business as usual.
:/=
An assembly had gathered in the great hall, vampires, lavishly dressed mingled with one another as they waited for the man of the hour. The master of the coven had reached a mile stone; 1500 years as a vampire. The gathered sires and friends of the beloved master greeted him with applause when he entered the hall. Gavin looked at the welcoming crowd and smiled. Motioning for them quiet down, he started to speak. “As I stand here looking at all of you; I see my friends. I see my children and I am truly humbled. As a man, I had nothing, but you all, have given me more then I could ever hope for. The world may view us as monsters, but history; will remember us as family.” Gavin waited for the cheering crowd to quiet down before telling them to enjoy the festivities and that he'd return shortly. After retiring to his study, he was greeted by one of his progeny, who greeted him with a sardonic smile.
“Fifteen hundred years; that's quite the feat Master.”
Gavin stared at his second and let out a sigh. “We discussed this already Lindsey. I've made my decision.”
Lindsey leaned on the edge of an ivory desk tumbling a pen through his fingers. “I understand Master, but I implore you to reconsider. This is a battle for inheritance. If we don't move soon, we'll be left behind.”
Gavin waved his hands, figuratively brushing the matter aside. “Must we continue this dance Lindsey? You know my stance and my goals.”
Standing up from the desk, Lindsey placed the pen in the pocket of his blazer and walked over to the wine cabinet. After scanning the bottles, he removed from it a vintage bottle of Scotch. “While your goals are noble, they are a pipe dream. Once the world, knows about us, they'll demand our destruction.”
“That is only speculation. Human beings can adapt to almost anything. Besides, vampires are popular in the entertainment mediums. It wouldn’t surprise me if half the population wanted what we have.”
Pouring two glasses, the younger vampire replied with a dry tone. “Half the population wants sparkly skin that's as hard as diamond. They want to be an emotional basket case with the power of a monster; we hardly measure up.” Handing one of the glasses to his master, the young man continued. “It's unfortunate, but this can only end one way.”
With a heavy sigh, Gavin took a drink of the fiery liquid. “Call a meeting of the elders. We’ll decide what to do from there.”
“As you wish, Master.”
“One more thing, Lindsey. This meeting must be of the utmost secrecy.”
“Of course Master. If you are worried about the group calling themselves Harbingers, fear not. I've seen to it that they will be quite busy tonight.”
:/=
The soft glow of emergency lights illuminated his path as he stumbled down the hallway; he needed to warn them before it was too late, but his wounds were severe and they were hunting him. Clasping a hand to his throat, trying desperately to keep the blood from pouring out of him, he continued on, shuffling through the ICU. The sound of their footsteps could be heard all around him and the hissing, the terrifying hissing echoed inside his head. Only a few feet more; the door to operating room 3 was just ahead... just a few more feet. The older doctor's eyes began to blur and his limbs felt cold and numb, but he would make it, by god he would make it. Gathering up his remaining strength, he burst through the door only to find...despair. They were there waiting for him? No, all of them had turned; all the shooting victims had become monsters!
<<>>
Vageryn hung up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell is going on?” Flipping the intercom switch he addressed the manor. “Harbingers, you have a new mission. We've been asked to check out the hospital on Main Street. It's been dark for the past hour and the police who have gone in to investigate haven't returned or reported in. Get down there immediately and be on your guard; I have a bad feeling about this.”
At noon the tailor arrived and took everyone's measurements. Vageryn put a rush on the order and was promised the new protective gear would arrive the next day. After the older woman left, Ingrid lead the group in meditation and lecture. The topic was 'Know Yourself.' It seemed appropriate given the circumstances. After meditation came an hour of training followed by free time until sunset. When the sun fell below the horizon, it was business as usual.
:/=
An assembly had gathered in the great hall, vampires, lavishly dressed mingled with one another as they waited for the man of the hour. The master of the coven had reached a mile stone; 1500 years as a vampire. The gathered sires and friends of the beloved master greeted him with applause when he entered the hall. Gavin looked at the welcoming crowd and smiled. Motioning for them quiet down, he started to speak. “As I stand here looking at all of you; I see my friends. I see my children and I am truly humbled. As a man, I had nothing, but you all, have given me more then I could ever hope for. The world may view us as monsters, but history; will remember us as family.” Gavin waited for the cheering crowd to quiet down before telling them to enjoy the festivities and that he'd return shortly. After retiring to his study, he was greeted by one of his progeny, who greeted him with a sardonic smile.
“Fifteen hundred years; that's quite the feat Master.”
Gavin stared at his second and let out a sigh. “We discussed this already Lindsey. I've made my decision.”
Lindsey leaned on the edge of an ivory desk tumbling a pen through his fingers. “I understand Master, but I implore you to reconsider. This is a battle for inheritance. If we don't move soon, we'll be left behind.”
Gavin waved his hands, figuratively brushing the matter aside. “Must we continue this dance Lindsey? You know my stance and my goals.”
Standing up from the desk, Lindsey placed the pen in the pocket of his blazer and walked over to the wine cabinet. After scanning the bottles, he removed from it a vintage bottle of Scotch. “While your goals are noble, they are a pipe dream. Once the world, knows about us, they'll demand our destruction.”
“That is only speculation. Human beings can adapt to almost anything. Besides, vampires are popular in the entertainment mediums. It wouldn’t surprise me if half the population wanted what we have.”
Pouring two glasses, the younger vampire replied with a dry tone. “Half the population wants sparkly skin that's as hard as diamond. They want to be an emotional basket case with the power of a monster; we hardly measure up.” Handing one of the glasses to his master, the young man continued. “It's unfortunate, but this can only end one way.”
With a heavy sigh, Gavin took a drink of the fiery liquid. “Call a meeting of the elders. We’ll decide what to do from there.”
“As you wish, Master.”
“One more thing, Lindsey. This meeting must be of the utmost secrecy.”
“Of course Master. If you are worried about the group calling themselves Harbingers, fear not. I've seen to it that they will be quite busy tonight.”
:/=
The soft glow of emergency lights illuminated his path as he stumbled down the hallway; he needed to warn them before it was too late, but his wounds were severe and they were hunting him. Clasping a hand to his throat, trying desperately to keep the blood from pouring out of him, he continued on, shuffling through the ICU. The sound of their footsteps could be heard all around him and the hissing, the terrifying hissing echoed inside his head. Only a few feet more; the door to operating room 3 was just ahead... just a few more feet. The older doctor's eyes began to blur and his limbs felt cold and numb, but he would make it, by god he would make it. Gathering up his remaining strength, he burst through the door only to find...despair. They were there waiting for him? No, all of them had turned; all the shooting victims had become monsters!
<<>>
Vageryn hung up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell is going on?” Flipping the intercom switch he addressed the manor. “Harbingers, you have a new mission. We've been asked to check out the hospital on Main Street. It's been dark for the past hour and the police who have gone in to investigate haven't returned or reported in. Get down there immediately and be on your guard; I have a bad feeling about this.”
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"We'll need to make a few modifications, of course," said Aleister softly, crossing his arms.
"I imagine so," replied the servant next to him. "Gas lines, drains, ventilation, emergency equipment." He made more marks on the clipboard.
Aleister glanced over at the slightly shorter man. "Emergency? Just what d'you s'pose I'll be doing down 'ere?" A half-smile traced his lips.
The servant's face remained blank. "Can't be too careful."
The pair stood in the entrance of the large, empty room that would soon transform into a modest workshop. Ingrid had only mentioned it in passing during the welcome tour, and Aleister had decided to pay a visit after meditation--a practice he imagined he would never get quite accustomed to. Perhaps when the shop was finished he could invent a way to get out of it in the future. He suffered his own form of meditation, anyway. When the Nocturne wore off and he was left with himself once again... that was his time for self-reflection. And it was all he needed.
The room was spacious. Rectangular, thirty feet long with a high ceiling. There were no windows, however; the light came from a series of hanging single-bulb lamps. Those would have to be replaced, too. Natural sunlight was irreplaceable, but some high-volume sun lamps would get the job done. A few tables, benches, and storage units would turn the empty room into a veritable laboratory. The servant had proposed apparatuses that dwarfed anything Aleister had worked with before in the spare bedroom of his apartment, but he was a simple man with... relatively simple needs. Plus, despite the shorter man's insistence that money was not an object of concern, Aleister did not want to impose on Vageryn's thus-far admirable hospitality.
"If there's nothing else..." the servant suggested.
"Oh, no. I think we've covered it."
He nodded. "Good. I'll run these plans by Vageryn in the morning, and we should have you up and running by the end of the week."
Aleister nodded. These folks were nothing if not efficient. The servant stepped briskly away, leaving the older man alone in the empty room. It was only a few moments before Vageryn's message came through the intercom. Aleister sighed. "And 'ere I was lookin' forward to a quiet evening alone."
With a reasonable amount of haste, he headed upstairs to his room, where he retrieved his equipment. There was no word on what they would be fighting, so Aleister brought a little of everything: his crossbow, a selection of vampire and werewolf bolts, a pair of fulmination grenades, and, of course, his trusty tomahawk. The last thing he grabbed was the key to the Azure. He stared at it in his hand for a moment or two. The gift from Wesley was... impossibly generous. Aleister had eyed the car with envy from the first day the young Watcher pulled up to his apartment building. It was a beautiful machine. Aleister could not fathom why Wesley would bestow it upon him. Carefully, he set the key back on his dresser. The Azure was a Sunday carriage, not a war chariot; it didn't seem right to ride it into battle.
Aleister headed back downstairs and moved toward the garage. Hopefully he would catch one of the others and bum a ride.
"I imagine so," replied the servant next to him. "Gas lines, drains, ventilation, emergency equipment." He made more marks on the clipboard.
Aleister glanced over at the slightly shorter man. "Emergency? Just what d'you s'pose I'll be doing down 'ere?" A half-smile traced his lips.
The servant's face remained blank. "Can't be too careful."
The pair stood in the entrance of the large, empty room that would soon transform into a modest workshop. Ingrid had only mentioned it in passing during the welcome tour, and Aleister had decided to pay a visit after meditation--a practice he imagined he would never get quite accustomed to. Perhaps when the shop was finished he could invent a way to get out of it in the future. He suffered his own form of meditation, anyway. When the Nocturne wore off and he was left with himself once again... that was his time for self-reflection. And it was all he needed.
The room was spacious. Rectangular, thirty feet long with a high ceiling. There were no windows, however; the light came from a series of hanging single-bulb lamps. Those would have to be replaced, too. Natural sunlight was irreplaceable, but some high-volume sun lamps would get the job done. A few tables, benches, and storage units would turn the empty room into a veritable laboratory. The servant had proposed apparatuses that dwarfed anything Aleister had worked with before in the spare bedroom of his apartment, but he was a simple man with... relatively simple needs. Plus, despite the shorter man's insistence that money was not an object of concern, Aleister did not want to impose on Vageryn's thus-far admirable hospitality.
"If there's nothing else..." the servant suggested.
"Oh, no. I think we've covered it."
He nodded. "Good. I'll run these plans by Vageryn in the morning, and we should have you up and running by the end of the week."
Aleister nodded. These folks were nothing if not efficient. The servant stepped briskly away, leaving the older man alone in the empty room. It was only a few moments before Vageryn's message came through the intercom. Aleister sighed. "And 'ere I was lookin' forward to a quiet evening alone."
With a reasonable amount of haste, he headed upstairs to his room, where he retrieved his equipment. There was no word on what they would be fighting, so Aleister brought a little of everything: his crossbow, a selection of vampire and werewolf bolts, a pair of fulmination grenades, and, of course, his trusty tomahawk. The last thing he grabbed was the key to the Azure. He stared at it in his hand for a moment or two. The gift from Wesley was... impossibly generous. Aleister had eyed the car with envy from the first day the young Watcher pulled up to his apartment building. It was a beautiful machine. Aleister could not fathom why Wesley would bestow it upon him. Carefully, he set the key back on his dresser. The Azure was a Sunday carriage, not a war chariot; it didn't seem right to ride it into battle.
Aleister headed back downstairs and moved toward the garage. Hopefully he would catch one of the others and bum a ride.
Hilde spent much of the day by herself.
That wasn’t precisely her preference, but the way she saw it, the place she most thought she should be was the one where she’d be utterly useless, and so it was best just to keep to her lonesome. She had this feeling, not terribly difficult to decipher, that Damages wasn’t taking this whole sick ‘your mom’ joke very well, and she also sort of figured that someone should talk to him about it. It didn’t have to be her, of course, but Boss-Lady was busy and Tinker (oh, she’d seen the workshop formulating downstairs) was new, and everyone else was dealing with the very same shocking revelation, which left her feeling quite flat-footed.
She wasn’t good with words. Sometimes, she said too much until it sounded like she was rambling, but more often, she didn’t say enough. Her strength, her power, these were not natural extensions of herself. She had not been born to do this, and her making had not been easy. It had required, among other things, tamping down her more empathetic, emotionally-savvy instincts. Her desire to be close to others, her capacities to love and trust. Her gentleness. None of them belonged to her any longer.
It wasn’t that she hated it; not all the time, at least. After all, for those sacrifices, she’d earned an iron resolve, a multitude of combat skills, a steely confidence, and a cool, logical mindset that had served her well. It just meant that she was wholly unsuited for situations in which other people experienced pain that couldn’t be bandaged up with gauze or dulled with a little aspirin. So, like the coward she was, she’d done nothing, even when she’d known there was something that needed doing.
She’d submitted, entirely unwillingly, to the attentions of several tailors, well-aware that anything constructed for her would have to be made custom anyway. People didn’t design for women as tall as she was, not usually. She still wasn’t completely certain it was necessary, but after a long and heated discussion with the person on her project, she was at least satisfied that she’d had some input. Meditation wasn’t new. Her father had encouraged it heavily in her youth, a way to ‘center herself,’ he’d said. Reflect on what was truly important. If the content of her stillest thoughts was anything to go by, what was important about her was her failures, for it was those that settled over her like a stifling cloak in those hours, and only when she knew everyone’s eyes were closed did she allow it to slump her shoulders, broadcasting her defeat in the subtlest overtures of grief.
When the call came over the intercom, it was back to business as usual. Swinging her armoire’s door open, Hilde snatched bow, quiver, gun, axe, and machete from their places. The gun went into a thigh holster, the bow and arrows over her shoulder, and the machete and axe crossed over her lower back. An extra long-bladed knife found its way into her boot, and she was grabbing her keys and heading out the door just as Aleister passed her door.
“Oi Tinker. You can ride with me. Don’t need your geriatric sensibilities slowing the traffic, yeah?” She grinned to show it was a joke and clapped him on the shoulder, abrasive-if-likeable mask firmly affixed to her face.
It was a good one like that. Sometimes, even she almost believed the show she put on.
That wasn’t precisely her preference, but the way she saw it, the place she most thought she should be was the one where she’d be utterly useless, and so it was best just to keep to her lonesome. She had this feeling, not terribly difficult to decipher, that Damages wasn’t taking this whole sick ‘your mom’ joke very well, and she also sort of figured that someone should talk to him about it. It didn’t have to be her, of course, but Boss-Lady was busy and Tinker (oh, she’d seen the workshop formulating downstairs) was new, and everyone else was dealing with the very same shocking revelation, which left her feeling quite flat-footed.
She wasn’t good with words. Sometimes, she said too much until it sounded like she was rambling, but more often, she didn’t say enough. Her strength, her power, these were not natural extensions of herself. She had not been born to do this, and her making had not been easy. It had required, among other things, tamping down her more empathetic, emotionally-savvy instincts. Her desire to be close to others, her capacities to love and trust. Her gentleness. None of them belonged to her any longer.
It wasn’t that she hated it; not all the time, at least. After all, for those sacrifices, she’d earned an iron resolve, a multitude of combat skills, a steely confidence, and a cool, logical mindset that had served her well. It just meant that she was wholly unsuited for situations in which other people experienced pain that couldn’t be bandaged up with gauze or dulled with a little aspirin. So, like the coward she was, she’d done nothing, even when she’d known there was something that needed doing.
She’d submitted, entirely unwillingly, to the attentions of several tailors, well-aware that anything constructed for her would have to be made custom anyway. People didn’t design for women as tall as she was, not usually. She still wasn’t completely certain it was necessary, but after a long and heated discussion with the person on her project, she was at least satisfied that she’d had some input. Meditation wasn’t new. Her father had encouraged it heavily in her youth, a way to ‘center herself,’ he’d said. Reflect on what was truly important. If the content of her stillest thoughts was anything to go by, what was important about her was her failures, for it was those that settled over her like a stifling cloak in those hours, and only when she knew everyone’s eyes were closed did she allow it to slump her shoulders, broadcasting her defeat in the subtlest overtures of grief.
When the call came over the intercom, it was back to business as usual. Swinging her armoire’s door open, Hilde snatched bow, quiver, gun, axe, and machete from their places. The gun went into a thigh holster, the bow and arrows over her shoulder, and the machete and axe crossed over her lower back. An extra long-bladed knife found its way into her boot, and she was grabbing her keys and heading out the door just as Aleister passed her door.
“Oi Tinker. You can ride with me. Don’t need your geriatric sensibilities slowing the traffic, yeah?” She grinned to show it was a joke and clapped him on the shoulder, abrasive-if-likeable mask firmly affixed to her face.
It was a good one like that. Sometimes, even she almost believed the show she put on.
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Aleister spun at the sound of Hilde's authoritative quip. He couldn't help but crack a half-grin, if only for the sake of the irony of the joke. What Hilde didn't know, and likely would never have the opportunity to find out, was that 'old-man Aleister' was actually a bit of a demon behind the wheel--perhaps yet another reason the Bentley was best left in the stable. He had himself retooled a beautiful white 318 during his time working for the Watchers; said work got him into enough trouble to have the vehicle impounded and his driving privileges revoked. The fact that the car had not, in the traditional sense, been his may have played a small role in that outcome. More to the point, Aleister thought he should count it as a victory that Hilde had chosen for him an age-neutral nickname, one he could get used to, even. His daughter called him 'Dad' and just about everybody else called him 'gramps,' so he was subjected to enough reminders of his advanced life-state without having his name replaced with one. But he could give as good as he got, more or less.
"Well, I s'pose your Viking ones should get us there in a tick." Maybe not right on the money, but Hilde's sturdy stature and brilliant copper hair did give a kind of old Norse impression. At the very least, Aleister was certain the woman could handle herself in a fight as well as one.
It didn't take a genius or a particularly long look to size up Hilde's role as a combatant. She was quick and powerful, but cunning and deliberate. If nothing else, her choice of weaponry gave that much away. "I see you pull for the old bow and arrow," he commented as they headed towards Hilde's Jeep. "Never did care for archery meself. Too many drawbacks. But pay us a visit at the shop when it's finished, and I'll get you sorted, eh?"
"Well, I s'pose your Viking ones should get us there in a tick." Maybe not right on the money, but Hilde's sturdy stature and brilliant copper hair did give a kind of old Norse impression. At the very least, Aleister was certain the woman could handle herself in a fight as well as one.
It didn't take a genius or a particularly long look to size up Hilde's role as a combatant. She was quick and powerful, but cunning and deliberate. If nothing else, her choice of weaponry gave that much away. "I see you pull for the old bow and arrow," he commented as they headed towards Hilde's Jeep. "Never did care for archery meself. Too many drawbacks. But pay us a visit at the shop when it's finished, and I'll get you sorted, eh?"
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For the longest time Nathanial stayed in the corner of the kitchen fighting his own internal battle, so intent was he on this internal struggle that he did not notice as the others gradually filtered out of the kitchen. Finally he managed to regain a modicum of control over his mind and body and he slowly lifted his head sweeping the room in one swift glance. Blessedly it was empty so he did not have to face the people who had seen a side of him he had never wanted them to see. Remembering his breakdown he felt a wave of anger and shame, that heated his cheeks, and he clenched his jaw determined not to be overwhelmed again.
I am in control dammit! I will not be ruled by my emotions He thought fiercely.
After a few moments he felt certain his body was back under his control and he quickly left the kitchen and moved through the mansion heading swiftly for his room. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally closed the door of his room, as this meant he was back in his sanctuary and was safe from the world from a time. He gazed longingly at his bed for a moment wishing only to escape into oblivion for a time but he knew that he had no time for that. He needed to be fitted for appropriate attire as per Ingrid's request and he also wanted to spend some time training as he wanted to make damn sure he was fully in control before heading out on the hunt. He changed into his training clothes and before long he was lost in the soothing rhythm of his exercise regime. By the time he had finished he was soaked to the skin with sweat and his limbs trembled from the exertion but his mind felt calm again.
He returned to his room and headed straight for the shower allowing the hot spray to pound his aching muscles until the tension eased and he felt almost normal again. He was just finishing dressing when a knock sounded on his door, he opened it to see the tailor employed to fit the team. He allowed her entry without a word and then stood silently and mostly patiently while she measured and fitted him for his uniform. By the time she had finished Nathanial was desperate to hunt, as even his patience was sorely tried by the amount of time the fitting had taken. So he was relieved when the announcement was made for them to go hunting. He armed himself quickly slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulder and ensuring his emergency knives were secured, one in each boot. He then fitted his throwing knives into the specially designed holsters on his arms and tested them to ensure he could reach them smoothly. Lastly he slipped his two long knives in their holsters on each hip and again he tested to ensure he could reach them at speed.
Satisfied he was ready he took one last longing look at Serena's photograph before sighing quietly and then straightening his shoulders and resuming his stoic expression. He left his room, ensuring it was locked behind him, and walked quickly to the parking garage. He walked in and saw Hilde and Alesteir talking over by Hilde's vehicle, he hesitated between his pick up and her vehicle but after a moment he walked over to them.
"Just before we head out I wanted to apologise for what you witnessed in the kitchen earlier, and I also wanted to assure you that I am in control again and will not jeopardise the team or the hunt."
I am in control dammit! I will not be ruled by my emotions He thought fiercely.
After a few moments he felt certain his body was back under his control and he quickly left the kitchen and moved through the mansion heading swiftly for his room. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally closed the door of his room, as this meant he was back in his sanctuary and was safe from the world from a time. He gazed longingly at his bed for a moment wishing only to escape into oblivion for a time but he knew that he had no time for that. He needed to be fitted for appropriate attire as per Ingrid's request and he also wanted to spend some time training as he wanted to make damn sure he was fully in control before heading out on the hunt. He changed into his training clothes and before long he was lost in the soothing rhythm of his exercise regime. By the time he had finished he was soaked to the skin with sweat and his limbs trembled from the exertion but his mind felt calm again.
He returned to his room and headed straight for the shower allowing the hot spray to pound his aching muscles until the tension eased and he felt almost normal again. He was just finishing dressing when a knock sounded on his door, he opened it to see the tailor employed to fit the team. He allowed her entry without a word and then stood silently and mostly patiently while she measured and fitted him for his uniform. By the time she had finished Nathanial was desperate to hunt, as even his patience was sorely tried by the amount of time the fitting had taken. So he was relieved when the announcement was made for them to go hunting. He armed himself quickly slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulder and ensuring his emergency knives were secured, one in each boot. He then fitted his throwing knives into the specially designed holsters on his arms and tested them to ensure he could reach them smoothly. Lastly he slipped his two long knives in their holsters on each hip and again he tested to ensure he could reach them at speed.
Satisfied he was ready he took one last longing look at Serena's photograph before sighing quietly and then straightening his shoulders and resuming his stoic expression. He left his room, ensuring it was locked behind him, and walked quickly to the parking garage. He walked in and saw Hilde and Alesteir talking over by Hilde's vehicle, he hesitated between his pick up and her vehicle but after a moment he walked over to them.
"Just before we head out I wanted to apologise for what you witnessed in the kitchen earlier, and I also wanted to assure you that I am in control again and will not jeopardise the team or the hunt."
Ingrid's story helped bring Ginger out of her depressed thoughts, only to fall into completely new ones that she didn't know how to deal with. Fingers clasped together, she listened to the words silently and ignored the falling chair afterwards. She nearly reacted the same however, making her exit moments later with a harsh snatch for her duffel bag and mind whirling to remember where the exit was.
No. Her mother wasn't a vampire. She wasn't one of those...things.
The facts were clear. She grew up without a mother. Never even asked for a full story, just accepted the car crash one her father dished out. Shaking her head, Ginger cursed herself for not expecting that to be a lie too. The rest of her life was screwed to hell, why not this?
Finding the front door wasn't as satisfying as she thought it would be. Her feet didn't move forward, as if knowing more than she that they had to stay. Had to? Well, that may be a stretch. Had she not proven that she could live on her own quite well?
But not comfortably. Or safe.
By the time the tailors came for measurements, she had decided to stay. Led to a room, presumably her own, she took off her sweatshirt and held her arms out, watched for any shady business as he measured her in seam, then fell back on the mattress after the door clicked close with his exit. Only a sigh escaped her lips, the curses and screams she wanted to expel diminished by her lack of sleep.
She didn't received sleep though. Meditation called her name apparently. Concentrating on anything other than the horrible truth of her family proved difficult, but Ginger knew no good would come of it. Meditating was supposed to be good, help good thoughts, and all that crap. She tried to think of good things, raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens...All she really wanted was a bed.
After showering and falling back on her bed a little less than two hours later, she found sleep instantly. Dreamless even, a comfortable pillow cradling her tired head and thick blankets encircling her like a loving hug. The announcement for the assignment went unnoticed to her, her ears cut off from the rest of the world. All she wanted was an uninterrupted sleep where she wouldn't have to think about dead boyfriends or monster moms. And that's what she got.
No. Her mother wasn't a vampire. She wasn't one of those...things.
The facts were clear. She grew up without a mother. Never even asked for a full story, just accepted the car crash one her father dished out. Shaking her head, Ginger cursed herself for not expecting that to be a lie too. The rest of her life was screwed to hell, why not this?
Finding the front door wasn't as satisfying as she thought it would be. Her feet didn't move forward, as if knowing more than she that they had to stay. Had to? Well, that may be a stretch. Had she not proven that she could live on her own quite well?
But not comfortably. Or safe.
By the time the tailors came for measurements, she had decided to stay. Led to a room, presumably her own, she took off her sweatshirt and held her arms out, watched for any shady business as he measured her in seam, then fell back on the mattress after the door clicked close with his exit. Only a sigh escaped her lips, the curses and screams she wanted to expel diminished by her lack of sleep.
She didn't received sleep though. Meditation called her name apparently. Concentrating on anything other than the horrible truth of her family proved difficult, but Ginger knew no good would come of it. Meditating was supposed to be good, help good thoughts, and all that crap. She tried to think of good things, raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens...All she really wanted was a bed.
After showering and falling back on her bed a little less than two hours later, she found sleep instantly. Dreamless even, a comfortable pillow cradling her tired head and thick blankets encircling her like a loving hug. The announcement for the assignment went unnoticed to her, her ears cut off from the rest of the world. All she wanted was an uninterrupted sleep where she wouldn't have to think about dead boyfriends or monster moms. And that's what she got.
Now that was odd. Vageryn wasn't normally the worrying kind; he cared about the team of course, but they were well trained and then capable of taking care of themselves. Saying he had a bad feeling was cause for concern. Ingrid wasn't sure what to think at the moment. Their enemy could only be one of two things right? After tightening her boots and zipping up her suit, she confronted him on the matter.
“You have a bad feeling?” she said poking her head into the study.
Turning away from the computer, Vageryn leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Did you see the news this morning?”
“No, why?”
“This morning there was a mass shooting at a college campus, multiple victims were taken to the hospital; the same hospital you'll be investigating. The gunman was found dead in an alley with his throat ripped out; there was very little blood at the scene.”
“Vampires.”
“It certainly looks that way, but what use would they have for mercenaries or hit-men? Why have them shoot up a college campus? Something isn't right, there is nothing to gain from it...yet, it's no coincidence that the same hospital the victims were taken to has gone dark. I don't like it. I feel like I'm sending you in blind.”
Ingrid walked over to him, placed her hands on his then leaned in and kissed him. “We'll be okay. We're trained to handle just about anything so don't worry.” Standing up straight, she adjusted her holsters then turned to leave. Stopping at the door she said, “You know, you could always come along.”
“My place is here Ingrid, we've talked about this.”
“It was just a suggestion. You have to stop running eventually you know... or is it hiding?”
“Aren't you supposed to be leading your team?” With that said, Vageryn turned back to his computer screen.
Ingrid met up with the others in the garage though she didn't see Ginger with them. Remembering how exhausted the poor girl looked earlier, she figured she must be sleeping. Perhaps it was for the best. The young woman had only just arrived and was hit with this morning's bombshell; she needed time to acclimate and the rest would do her good. “Right then, our destination is Pandora General. We're pretty much going in blind, so we'll assess the situation when we get there. For now, we stick together... and no heroics.”
:/=
Tatyana rushed into Gavin's office. “You are not going to believe what happened to me this morning.” When no response came from the back facing chair, she started over. “Look I'm sorry I missed you birthday celebration, but I had other clients. I can still dance for you though.”
The chair slowly turned around, but it was not Gavin in the seat. “Does this dance involve you in various stages of undress throughout?” Lindsey said with a wry smile.
“Lindsey?”
“In the flesh. Now I believe you were about to dance?”
“Don't flatter yourself.”
“Wouldn't dream of it. Now what has you rushing in here the way you did?”
Tatyana thought for a moment and was visibly shaken by the lack of details. No matter how many clients she had, she remembered them all; their faces, their sent what they liked and disliked, even their taste. Yet now that she tried to recall the meeting her mind was blank. “I...I'm sorry I can't.”
“Stop.” Lindsey left his seat with the expedience of a cat pouncing on its prey. Within the blink of an eye he was circling the confused woman, his right elbow resting in his left hand, right index finger and thumb upon his chin. Then he stopped and gripped her chin, turning her head side to side, his piercing blue eyes probing her mocha ones. “Remarkable, there isn't even a trace of the meeting. What was the message he gave you?”
“Message? ...Yes, the message. Gavin should watch his back.” Shaking her head free from his grip, she put her hand to her forehead. “What happened to me?”
“Hypnosis, if I had to guess; a powerful one at that. It seems your visitor was well versed in the ways of the mind, most notably vampire minds...very curious.” Before he could dwell on it further, his phone rang. “Hold on,” covering the receiver he turned looked at Tatyana, “You should get some rest my dear. When she left, he returned to the call. “Excellent, if they survive, follow them. ...No don't engage them, only tell me where they go.”
<<>>
Pandora General, one of the top hospitals in the country was home to the brightest doctors and state of the art medical facilities. Day in and day out patients would come and go each having been treated for whatever ails them. From mild to severe every emergency was handled with the utmost care. Be it the burn clinic or the OBGYN, patients felt they were in the best hands available. The lobby itself was a place of relaxation with a soothing fountain and comfortable leather sofas, there were magazines on end tables as up to date as donations would allow and even some bookshelves filled with classic literature. Pandora General was a place people could be comfortable in; for the Harbingers, it was anything but.
Death lingered in the air, invading their senses. As they looked around the room, however there were no signs of foul play. The lobby was pristine, indeed it appeared to have been recently cleaned, yet there were no signs of life anywhere around them; like they had all vanished. They began to search the area, but found little. “What the hell is going here?” Ingrid's inquiry wasn't directed at anyone, but the others were no doubt thinking the same thing. As they moved into the main hallway an audible thud was heard behind them. They turned to see what it was and saw a woman lying on the floor, she appeared to have hit her head and she was barely conscious.
“Help us.” The woman's words were barely a whisper. Ingrid motioned for the others to stay back as she cautiously approached the young woman. Upon closer inspection, the woman appeared to be in her early twenties, she had dirty blond hair and was garbed in a common green gown often given to patients. Ingrid drew one of her pistols. Before she could pull the trigger the creature was upon her, lifting her up by the throat and baring her fangs with a loud hiss. Within the blink of an eye Ingrid found herself in a tangled heap of arms, legs and various weapons. The Harbingers picked themselves up only to see their prey had vanished.
Ingrid looked at the others, “the eyes had a violet glow to them. Spread out and shoot on sight. I have a feeling we're in for a long night.”
“You have a bad feeling?” she said poking her head into the study.
Turning away from the computer, Vageryn leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Did you see the news this morning?”
“No, why?”
“This morning there was a mass shooting at a college campus, multiple victims were taken to the hospital; the same hospital you'll be investigating. The gunman was found dead in an alley with his throat ripped out; there was very little blood at the scene.”
“Vampires.”
“It certainly looks that way, but what use would they have for mercenaries or hit-men? Why have them shoot up a college campus? Something isn't right, there is nothing to gain from it...yet, it's no coincidence that the same hospital the victims were taken to has gone dark. I don't like it. I feel like I'm sending you in blind.”
Ingrid walked over to him, placed her hands on his then leaned in and kissed him. “We'll be okay. We're trained to handle just about anything so don't worry.” Standing up straight, she adjusted her holsters then turned to leave. Stopping at the door she said, “You know, you could always come along.”
“My place is here Ingrid, we've talked about this.”
“It was just a suggestion. You have to stop running eventually you know... or is it hiding?”
“Aren't you supposed to be leading your team?” With that said, Vageryn turned back to his computer screen.
Ingrid met up with the others in the garage though she didn't see Ginger with them. Remembering how exhausted the poor girl looked earlier, she figured she must be sleeping. Perhaps it was for the best. The young woman had only just arrived and was hit with this morning's bombshell; she needed time to acclimate and the rest would do her good. “Right then, our destination is Pandora General. We're pretty much going in blind, so we'll assess the situation when we get there. For now, we stick together... and no heroics.”
:/=
Tatyana rushed into Gavin's office. “You are not going to believe what happened to me this morning.” When no response came from the back facing chair, she started over. “Look I'm sorry I missed you birthday celebration, but I had other clients. I can still dance for you though.”
The chair slowly turned around, but it was not Gavin in the seat. “Does this dance involve you in various stages of undress throughout?” Lindsey said with a wry smile.
“Lindsey?”
“In the flesh. Now I believe you were about to dance?”
“Don't flatter yourself.”
“Wouldn't dream of it. Now what has you rushing in here the way you did?”
Tatyana thought for a moment and was visibly shaken by the lack of details. No matter how many clients she had, she remembered them all; their faces, their sent what they liked and disliked, even their taste. Yet now that she tried to recall the meeting her mind was blank. “I...I'm sorry I can't.”
“Stop.” Lindsey left his seat with the expedience of a cat pouncing on its prey. Within the blink of an eye he was circling the confused woman, his right elbow resting in his left hand, right index finger and thumb upon his chin. Then he stopped and gripped her chin, turning her head side to side, his piercing blue eyes probing her mocha ones. “Remarkable, there isn't even a trace of the meeting. What was the message he gave you?”
“Message? ...Yes, the message. Gavin should watch his back.” Shaking her head free from his grip, she put her hand to her forehead. “What happened to me?”
“Hypnosis, if I had to guess; a powerful one at that. It seems your visitor was well versed in the ways of the mind, most notably vampire minds...very curious.” Before he could dwell on it further, his phone rang. “Hold on,” covering the receiver he turned looked at Tatyana, “You should get some rest my dear. When she left, he returned to the call. “Excellent, if they survive, follow them. ...No don't engage them, only tell me where they go.”
<<>>
All Nightmare Long
Pandora General, one of the top hospitals in the country was home to the brightest doctors and state of the art medical facilities. Day in and day out patients would come and go each having been treated for whatever ails them. From mild to severe every emergency was handled with the utmost care. Be it the burn clinic or the OBGYN, patients felt they were in the best hands available. The lobby itself was a place of relaxation with a soothing fountain and comfortable leather sofas, there were magazines on end tables as up to date as donations would allow and even some bookshelves filled with classic literature. Pandora General was a place people could be comfortable in; for the Harbingers, it was anything but.
Death lingered in the air, invading their senses. As they looked around the room, however there were no signs of foul play. The lobby was pristine, indeed it appeared to have been recently cleaned, yet there were no signs of life anywhere around them; like they had all vanished. They began to search the area, but found little. “What the hell is going here?” Ingrid's inquiry wasn't directed at anyone, but the others were no doubt thinking the same thing. As they moved into the main hallway an audible thud was heard behind them. They turned to see what it was and saw a woman lying on the floor, she appeared to have hit her head and she was barely conscious.
“Help us.” The woman's words were barely a whisper. Ingrid motioned for the others to stay back as she cautiously approached the young woman. Upon closer inspection, the woman appeared to be in her early twenties, she had dirty blond hair and was garbed in a common green gown often given to patients. Ingrid drew one of her pistols. Before she could pull the trigger the creature was upon her, lifting her up by the throat and baring her fangs with a loud hiss. Within the blink of an eye Ingrid found herself in a tangled heap of arms, legs and various weapons. The Harbingers picked themselves up only to see their prey had vanished.
Ingrid looked at the others, “the eyes had a violet glow to them. Spread out and shoot on sight. I have a feeling we're in for a long night.”
“Drawbacks? Was that supposed to be a pun, or are you just ridiculous unintentionally?” For all that the words themselves were a bit on the rude side, Hilde was smiling, and she nodded amicably enough to the suggestion that she make her way down to the workshop at some later date.
Damages came by then, and, unable to say what she properly wanted to, she just offered a lopsided grin. “’Course you won’t,” she said easily, shrugging as if it were the least important thing in the world. “You’re a damn good Slayer. Nothing changes that.”
As things turned out, they were all headed to Pandora General together, rather than taking separate rides, which didn’t bother her at all. The new girl was conspicuously missing, but the Scandanavian woman offered up no comment on this fact. It wasn’t really any of her business, and frankly she was kind of surprised that Damages was here, not that she could stand to look at him for too long. There was something so very raw about his pain, as though it were pouring out of his eyes and his skin from somewhere deep in his soul, intent on choking her with its familiarity. Or she would have thought so, if she believed in things like souls anymore.
The trip itself passed in silence, more or less, save the occasional muttered invective on Hilde’s part when someone cut her off in traffic or failed to accelerate with adequate celerity when a light turned green. That said, she had them there in good time, pulling illegally into a handicapped spot to save them time getting to the door. It wasn’t like anyone was going to care.
Checking that the magazine on her pistol was full (it was, obviously), she clicked it back into place and disengaged the safety. She may well prefer bows and arrows, or getting up close and personal, but she was no fool, and it may very well be the case that this one turned out to be more slaughter than hunt.
The lobby of the hospital bespoke both moderate wealth and an abundance of good taste, and the thought distantly that it was a shame it and much of the rest of the place might be a shambles by the time they got through with it. She’d never been fond of hospitals or doctors much, but even so… her treads were soft on the linoleum, and her only reply to Boss-Lady’s rhetorical question was to shake her head, her ponytail swishing back and forth with the motion. They likely wouldn’t know any more about this situation until they were in the very thick of it, up to their elbows in blood and gore.
When they came upon the woman in the hallway, her suspicions were immediately raised. “I wouldn’t-“ she started, but Boss-Lady had waved at them to stay back, and Hilde figured she’d reached much the same conclusion. When the girl attacked, she wasn’t even surprised enough to flinch, though what Ingrid said next did alarm her somewhat.
“Violet?” She shot a glance at Tinker. He and she would know the most about that, after all. “You mean someone’s been dosing these poor bastards with Nocturne?” That couldn’t bode well. You had to be in pretty good shape to make effective use of the stuff. It was a highly-dangerous, volatile compound, and just introducing it into someone’s system without care for preparation or dosage wasn’t done. It was becoming obvious why, and the huntress gritted her teeth together.
She jerked her head towards the left corridor, indicating that she’d take it, and this time, she really did engage the safety on her firearm and withdraw the bow. It was quieter, and she didn’t need every nasty in the proximity being alerted to her presence immediately. The axe at her waist and the machete with it were comforting weights, as well, and she’d always have options.
As always, the question was whether those would be enough to keep her alive.
Damages came by then, and, unable to say what she properly wanted to, she just offered a lopsided grin. “’Course you won’t,” she said easily, shrugging as if it were the least important thing in the world. “You’re a damn good Slayer. Nothing changes that.”
As things turned out, they were all headed to Pandora General together, rather than taking separate rides, which didn’t bother her at all. The new girl was conspicuously missing, but the Scandanavian woman offered up no comment on this fact. It wasn’t really any of her business, and frankly she was kind of surprised that Damages was here, not that she could stand to look at him for too long. There was something so very raw about his pain, as though it were pouring out of his eyes and his skin from somewhere deep in his soul, intent on choking her with its familiarity. Or she would have thought so, if she believed in things like souls anymore.
The trip itself passed in silence, more or less, save the occasional muttered invective on Hilde’s part when someone cut her off in traffic or failed to accelerate with adequate celerity when a light turned green. That said, she had them there in good time, pulling illegally into a handicapped spot to save them time getting to the door. It wasn’t like anyone was going to care.
Checking that the magazine on her pistol was full (it was, obviously), she clicked it back into place and disengaged the safety. She may well prefer bows and arrows, or getting up close and personal, but she was no fool, and it may very well be the case that this one turned out to be more slaughter than hunt.
The lobby of the hospital bespoke both moderate wealth and an abundance of good taste, and the thought distantly that it was a shame it and much of the rest of the place might be a shambles by the time they got through with it. She’d never been fond of hospitals or doctors much, but even so… her treads were soft on the linoleum, and her only reply to Boss-Lady’s rhetorical question was to shake her head, her ponytail swishing back and forth with the motion. They likely wouldn’t know any more about this situation until they were in the very thick of it, up to their elbows in blood and gore.
When they came upon the woman in the hallway, her suspicions were immediately raised. “I wouldn’t-“ she started, but Boss-Lady had waved at them to stay back, and Hilde figured she’d reached much the same conclusion. When the girl attacked, she wasn’t even surprised enough to flinch, though what Ingrid said next did alarm her somewhat.
“Violet?” She shot a glance at Tinker. He and she would know the most about that, after all. “You mean someone’s been dosing these poor bastards with Nocturne?” That couldn’t bode well. You had to be in pretty good shape to make effective use of the stuff. It was a highly-dangerous, volatile compound, and just introducing it into someone’s system without care for preparation or dosage wasn’t done. It was becoming obvious why, and the huntress gritted her teeth together.
She jerked her head towards the left corridor, indicating that she’d take it, and this time, she really did engage the safety on her firearm and withdraw the bow. It was quieter, and she didn’t need every nasty in the proximity being alerted to her presence immediately. The axe at her waist and the machete with it were comforting weights, as well, and she’d always have options.
As always, the question was whether those would be enough to keep her alive.
The day was interesting, for Nicholas at least.
Breakfast was a strange affair when it came to the group. But who was he to question the circumstances that presented itself during their meal. He mingled and spoke to them but one of the newer members, namely a pale young girl that went by the name Ginger...he thought, blurted out his injuries. He wasn't offended in any way but he felt relieved that someone, though he could tell suffered more than his own fair share of grief and pain, was concerned for possibly two major facts. The fact that she sensed his wounds may be work related or she figured out that something happened to him after business hours; though, deep down he guessed it was the latter. He could see it in her eyes that she was worried; but, the subject of that concern and worry he could not decipher.
He did his best to ease her troubles and reassured her that he was fine. After that, he and the rest continued to eat their meal until Ingrid told them one of her past exploits. To say he was surprised when he found out that Slayers descended from Vampires. Nicholas observed the varied reactions of the others while he silently thought of the implications presented in Ingrid's tale. His mind went into overdrive. Working out to find a clear reason or maybe a clearer understanding as to why or how could it be possible. He knew Slayers were people who were born as living beings. He knew that they were much more skilled than an average Hunter. He never knew that Slayers bore vampiric blood. He knew some Slayers were social pariahs but could this be the reason why? His musing was abruptly cut short when he witnessed Nathaniel slowly broke down in front of them. He remembered that the guy had a serious grudge against Vampires, just like him only it involves Werewolves. Though he never knew the reason why the man hates Vampires so much, Nicholas knew Nathaniel was deep in his own anger and grief after hearing the news from Ingrid herself. He was conflicted and upset as he tried to control himself. Nicholas couldn't blame him for he would act the same was if he receives news that he was, by some sick joke, related to his most hated enemy.
A man named Aleister, who had unkempt hair and wore sunglasses, looked at a small picture, a simple picture. Nicholas couldn't make out who or was on the picture, but he could see conflicting emotions that are present as he stared down on the picture that he was holding.
He witnessed Hilde act as the voice of reason for everyone. Her words carried a great deal of weight that touched his own heart. He thought she was right in every word for everyone present could feel the conviction in every word. Though she possessed a conviction that was admirable, she too was greatly affected by this.
After observing his companions, he felt a twinge of grief seeing them like this. Deep down he couldn't bear seeing them like that. It just reminded him of the pains in his past and the pains of his old comrades-in-arms. With this, he excused himself after hearing Ingrid's reminder about advanced training. He went to his room and deposited the envelope that he received.
--------|--------|----------
After being subjected to a simple fitting by a group of tailors, training and meditation, Nicholas returned to his room. He laid on his bed as he contemplated on the days events. He was curious as to why the fitting occurred. According to some of the other members, they were being fitted for special protective gear that would be used in future field operations. He didn't mind because he believes the higher-ups have the best intentions for everyone when it comes to their performance and survivability on the field. The lecture and meditation was informative and with it he managed acquire a worthwhile insight of himself and others around him.
As he laid there, he reflected on the time before he joined the Harbingers. The time where he first encountered one of the finer points of fear and despair. The time where he learned that emotions would either cloud or enlighten ones understanding of the situation. He ran his hands across his face and hair and sighed. Everything in life seems to be complicated. That's the nagging thought that ran across his head as he lay on his bed. Numerous thoughts of both the past and the present flashed in quick succession; but, he quickly buried these thoughts. He got off his bed and grabbed the envelope by the bedside table.
What he found inside made him wonder. It was a letter tied with an elegant crimson bow with a gold embroidery of an angel on it. He also noticed that there was something tied to the ribbon. To his surprise it was a half face mask. He untied the mask and held it on his right hand while he observed it with a keen eye. The mask was made of porcelain which was painted black, it accurately depicted with great detail the shape of a wolf's muzzle that bared its fangs when faced with an adversary. His gaze lingered on the mask and soon he placed it on the table. He remembered a great deal of history with regards to that mask; from the first days of his hunting career to the days he left his old companions and accepted his new...family.
He untied the bow and read the letter. He took a glance at the salutatory greeting which consisted of mundane and trivial things such as the day, weather and the like. He read the main body of the letter and there his eyes widened with surprise. His old colleagues restocked his armory within his room and in his SUV; and left him a few schematics for recreating his required ammunition for his weapons. It was also stated that they repaired the damages done to his ride and took the liberty of replacing the regular safety glass of the windshield and windows with bulletproof glass. His eyes then landed on the closing remarks which only states, "Nicholas, we're sorry for what we've done to you. I know you might be upset with us but, please, understand that it made our hearts ache with saddness and pain whenever we brought our hands down on you. So, please, forgive us and we wish you luck in your future endeavors." He noticed that all of his old colleagues signed the letter which made him smile at their gesture.
He already forgave them for what they did. He knew that it was justified; though a little bit brutal in their punishment. But still they all cared though some kept their emotions in check. His eyes turned on a clock that hung on his wall. He cursed audibly. To think he had forgotten his boss called for a mission and he was running late, he thought as he quickly got out of bed and suited up in order to catch up with the group. His armory was indeed fully stocked with an assortment of weapons and boxes filled with bullets and shotgun shells. He wore his usual "business" attire; this time, with a black vest that contains multiple pockets for his ammunition and knives. He took a machete, a small hatchet, and a few knives which he proceeded to strap them on his back and chest; he grabbed a brand new Colt Anaconda and Mark XIX Desert Eagle and placed them on their respective holsters by his sides; he then picked up two Micro Desert Eagles and placed them on two hidden holsters near his ankles; he grabbed a few dozen clips for his guns and some basic first-aid kit just and placed them in the pockets found on his vest. After seeing that he was ready, he wore the porcelain mask and secured it firmly. "Let the hunt begin," he said to himself.
He walked out of his room and asked around where they could possible be heading. Upon getting his answers from a few personnel, he made a bee-line for the garage. His ride was good as new. The dents and scratches were no where to be seen and he could tell his SUV could handle a pack of Werewolves by now. 'Alright, maybe that was a bit exaggerated', he thought; but still, his old buddies really did a good job. He went in his vehicle, started the engine and drove out of the garage at high speed.
--------|--------|----------
After a driving for a few hours, he arrived at his destination. As he approached the hospital he spotted Hilde's ride parked near the immediate area and parked just a few feet farther. Pandora General Hospital, a place that is considered the best facility for the medical arts. It looked like a typical hospital from the outide, but from the stories and rumors that he had hear, the hospital was the best. People would always feel that they were in good hands. He shut off the engines and got out of his vehicle. He surveyed the surrounding area for a moment and thought, 'It's quiet...too quiet for my taste.'
He never liked the silence too much. It always had nasty surprises waiting to pop out. He looked around once more. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he went to the back of his SUV and opened the the trunk. His stash of weapons, ammunition and armor were all there. He inspected everything and found that all of them were brand new. But there was one thing that caught his eye and that was a Winchester Model 1887. Thought the gun looked like the typical Model 1887's, it was special for him because of the names, Julia and Sasha, which were beautifully engraved on the barrel of the gun. Beside the gun were a few dozen boxes filled with his own brand of shotgun shells and a note that said, "Happy hunting". He grabbed the shotgun, loaded it with shells, he pocketed a few dozen shells just in case he needs it, he closed the trunk and walked inside the hospital.
He checked his surroundings and noticed that there seems to be nothing wrong. The place seemed clean and sterile but that was it. It appeared that there were no signs of human life around the immediate area. He readied his shotgun and cautiously walked towards the main hallway. 'I hope the others are fine. Damn, this might be one helluva shitstorm waiting to hit the fan,' he thought before turning to his back, aiming his shotgun at...nothing. He sighed and ran his hand over his hair. "This place gives me the creeps," he grumbled before walking of with his shotgun at the ready, "were could the others be?"
Breakfast was a strange affair when it came to the group. But who was he to question the circumstances that presented itself during their meal. He mingled and spoke to them but one of the newer members, namely a pale young girl that went by the name Ginger...he thought, blurted out his injuries. He wasn't offended in any way but he felt relieved that someone, though he could tell suffered more than his own fair share of grief and pain, was concerned for possibly two major facts. The fact that she sensed his wounds may be work related or she figured out that something happened to him after business hours; though, deep down he guessed it was the latter. He could see it in her eyes that she was worried; but, the subject of that concern and worry he could not decipher.
He did his best to ease her troubles and reassured her that he was fine. After that, he and the rest continued to eat their meal until Ingrid told them one of her past exploits. To say he was surprised when he found out that Slayers descended from Vampires. Nicholas observed the varied reactions of the others while he silently thought of the implications presented in Ingrid's tale. His mind went into overdrive. Working out to find a clear reason or maybe a clearer understanding as to why or how could it be possible. He knew Slayers were people who were born as living beings. He knew that they were much more skilled than an average Hunter. He never knew that Slayers bore vampiric blood. He knew some Slayers were social pariahs but could this be the reason why? His musing was abruptly cut short when he witnessed Nathaniel slowly broke down in front of them. He remembered that the guy had a serious grudge against Vampires, just like him only it involves Werewolves. Though he never knew the reason why the man hates Vampires so much, Nicholas knew Nathaniel was deep in his own anger and grief after hearing the news from Ingrid herself. He was conflicted and upset as he tried to control himself. Nicholas couldn't blame him for he would act the same was if he receives news that he was, by some sick joke, related to his most hated enemy.
A man named Aleister, who had unkempt hair and wore sunglasses, looked at a small picture, a simple picture. Nicholas couldn't make out who or was on the picture, but he could see conflicting emotions that are present as he stared down on the picture that he was holding.
He witnessed Hilde act as the voice of reason for everyone. Her words carried a great deal of weight that touched his own heart. He thought she was right in every word for everyone present could feel the conviction in every word. Though she possessed a conviction that was admirable, she too was greatly affected by this.
After observing his companions, he felt a twinge of grief seeing them like this. Deep down he couldn't bear seeing them like that. It just reminded him of the pains in his past and the pains of his old comrades-in-arms. With this, he excused himself after hearing Ingrid's reminder about advanced training. He went to his room and deposited the envelope that he received.
--------|--------|----------
After being subjected to a simple fitting by a group of tailors, training and meditation, Nicholas returned to his room. He laid on his bed as he contemplated on the days events. He was curious as to why the fitting occurred. According to some of the other members, they were being fitted for special protective gear that would be used in future field operations. He didn't mind because he believes the higher-ups have the best intentions for everyone when it comes to their performance and survivability on the field. The lecture and meditation was informative and with it he managed acquire a worthwhile insight of himself and others around him.
As he laid there, he reflected on the time before he joined the Harbingers. The time where he first encountered one of the finer points of fear and despair. The time where he learned that emotions would either cloud or enlighten ones understanding of the situation. He ran his hands across his face and hair and sighed. Everything in life seems to be complicated. That's the nagging thought that ran across his head as he lay on his bed. Numerous thoughts of both the past and the present flashed in quick succession; but, he quickly buried these thoughts. He got off his bed and grabbed the envelope by the bedside table.
What he found inside made him wonder. It was a letter tied with an elegant crimson bow with a gold embroidery of an angel on it. He also noticed that there was something tied to the ribbon. To his surprise it was a half face mask. He untied the mask and held it on his right hand while he observed it with a keen eye. The mask was made of porcelain which was painted black, it accurately depicted with great detail the shape of a wolf's muzzle that bared its fangs when faced with an adversary. His gaze lingered on the mask and soon he placed it on the table. He remembered a great deal of history with regards to that mask; from the first days of his hunting career to the days he left his old companions and accepted his new...family.
He untied the bow and read the letter. He took a glance at the salutatory greeting which consisted of mundane and trivial things such as the day, weather and the like. He read the main body of the letter and there his eyes widened with surprise. His old colleagues restocked his armory within his room and in his SUV; and left him a few schematics for recreating his required ammunition for his weapons. It was also stated that they repaired the damages done to his ride and took the liberty of replacing the regular safety glass of the windshield and windows with bulletproof glass. His eyes then landed on the closing remarks which only states, "Nicholas, we're sorry for what we've done to you. I know you might be upset with us but, please, understand that it made our hearts ache with saddness and pain whenever we brought our hands down on you. So, please, forgive us and we wish you luck in your future endeavors." He noticed that all of his old colleagues signed the letter which made him smile at their gesture.
He already forgave them for what they did. He knew that it was justified; though a little bit brutal in their punishment. But still they all cared though some kept their emotions in check. His eyes turned on a clock that hung on his wall. He cursed audibly. To think he had forgotten his boss called for a mission and he was running late, he thought as he quickly got out of bed and suited up in order to catch up with the group. His armory was indeed fully stocked with an assortment of weapons and boxes filled with bullets and shotgun shells. He wore his usual "business" attire; this time, with a black vest that contains multiple pockets for his ammunition and knives. He took a machete, a small hatchet, and a few knives which he proceeded to strap them on his back and chest; he grabbed a brand new Colt Anaconda and Mark XIX Desert Eagle and placed them on their respective holsters by his sides; he then picked up two Micro Desert Eagles and placed them on two hidden holsters near his ankles; he grabbed a few dozen clips for his guns and some basic first-aid kit just and placed them in the pockets found on his vest. After seeing that he was ready, he wore the porcelain mask and secured it firmly. "Let the hunt begin," he said to himself.
He walked out of his room and asked around where they could possible be heading. Upon getting his answers from a few personnel, he made a bee-line for the garage. His ride was good as new. The dents and scratches were no where to be seen and he could tell his SUV could handle a pack of Werewolves by now. 'Alright, maybe that was a bit exaggerated', he thought; but still, his old buddies really did a good job. He went in his vehicle, started the engine and drove out of the garage at high speed.
--------|--------|----------
After a driving for a few hours, he arrived at his destination. As he approached the hospital he spotted Hilde's ride parked near the immediate area and parked just a few feet farther. Pandora General Hospital, a place that is considered the best facility for the medical arts. It looked like a typical hospital from the outide, but from the stories and rumors that he had hear, the hospital was the best. People would always feel that they were in good hands. He shut off the engines and got out of his vehicle. He surveyed the surrounding area for a moment and thought, 'It's quiet...too quiet for my taste.'
He never liked the silence too much. It always had nasty surprises waiting to pop out. He looked around once more. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he went to the back of his SUV and opened the the trunk. His stash of weapons, ammunition and armor were all there. He inspected everything and found that all of them were brand new. But there was one thing that caught his eye and that was a Winchester Model 1887. Thought the gun looked like the typical Model 1887's, it was special for him because of the names, Julia and Sasha, which were beautifully engraved on the barrel of the gun. Beside the gun were a few dozen boxes filled with his own brand of shotgun shells and a note that said, "Happy hunting". He grabbed the shotgun, loaded it with shells, he pocketed a few dozen shells just in case he needs it, he closed the trunk and walked inside the hospital.
He checked his surroundings and noticed that there seems to be nothing wrong. The place seemed clean and sterile but that was it. It appeared that there were no signs of human life around the immediate area. He readied his shotgun and cautiously walked towards the main hallway. 'I hope the others are fine. Damn, this might be one helluva shitstorm waiting to hit the fan,' he thought before turning to his back, aiming his shotgun at...nothing. He sighed and ran his hand over his hair. "This place gives me the creeps," he grumbled before walking of with his shotgun at the ready, "were could the others be?"
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Nathanial felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as soon as he entered the hospital, even without his other senses that would have been enough to tell him that the enemy was here. He silently followed the others as they moved through the lobby and checked the immediate area. He felt an odd momentary surge of pride towards his companions, as though each were used to working alone they were managing to work together. The feeling surprised him as he didn't think he cared enough about the others to feel pride or loyalty yet he felt the stirrings of both. This lifted his heart somewhat as it could mean the pain inside was finally healing, yet it worried him also lest he forget her.
The woman that rose in front of them pulled him from his thoughts, though they had not been affecting his attention as he had become skilled at listening to his body's senses without needing conscious thought. He waited as Ingrid ordered and could see that whilst the woman was not Vampire she was not fully human either. There was something off about her and when Hilde mentioned Nocturne Nathanial knew that was what it was. He felt pity for the woman, whoever she was, having been subjected to a highly dangerous and addictive drug. Hunters, he knew, used it with care and were well aware of its effects but this woman had had no choice.
He did not try and work out who was behind it all as he knew that was a tiring and fruitless exercise and he was sure they would find out soon enough. Instead he readied his bow, still preferring it to the louder and clunkier firearm, and signalled that he would join Hilde backing her up. He did not doubt her capability, quite the opposite in that he respected just how good she was, but he did not think it wise for any of them to venture away from the group alone. As yet they did not know how many, if any, enemies were here. He walked beside Hilde on the other side of the room bow ready allowing her to lead the way.
The woman that rose in front of them pulled him from his thoughts, though they had not been affecting his attention as he had become skilled at listening to his body's senses without needing conscious thought. He waited as Ingrid ordered and could see that whilst the woman was not Vampire she was not fully human either. There was something off about her and when Hilde mentioned Nocturne Nathanial knew that was what it was. He felt pity for the woman, whoever she was, having been subjected to a highly dangerous and addictive drug. Hunters, he knew, used it with care and were well aware of its effects but this woman had had no choice.
He did not try and work out who was behind it all as he knew that was a tiring and fruitless exercise and he was sure they would find out soon enough. Instead he readied his bow, still preferring it to the louder and clunkier firearm, and signalled that he would join Hilde backing her up. He did not doubt her capability, quite the opposite in that he respected just how good she was, but he did not think it wise for any of them to venture away from the group alone. As yet they did not know how many, if any, enemies were here. He walked beside Hilde on the other side of the room bow ready allowing her to lead the way.
Ingrid nodded when Nathaniel decided to follow Hilde. It would've been her own suggestion as well. Going solo in this place didn't seem like a very good idea, despite their skill alone, they'd be stronger in teams. The vampire they encountered a moment ago was a testament to that. Vampires were fast, but it moved on the same level as an elite; this didn't bode well for them. “Aleister, you're with me, we'll take the east wing. And remember,” she said before the team parted, “stay in contact.” The two moved down the hallway with a cautious pace, every so often seeing movement out the corner of their eyes. More then a few times she trained her guns on an empty space, she could have sworn was only moments ago occupied. “They're toying with us, what fun,” she said with a smirk. You check the left room. I'll take the right” Leaning up against the wall, Ingrid readied her guns then spun into the room. With quick reflexes she marked each location within, even checking the ceiling. Vampires weren't the best climbers, but their jump was remarkable. Again she saw the quick movements out the corner of her eye and again nothing upon dead-on sight. Leaving the room, she met Raven in the hallway. “Anything?” The hunter shook his head and they moved further down the hall.
Before they could enter the next set of rooms they felt a rush of air, as if something had run past them at great speed. When she turned to confer with Aleister he wasn't there, instead he had moved a good five feet down the hall. A vampire had seized him from behind and was using him as a human shield. “I wouldn't do anything rash if I were you.” The creature spoke with eloquence and clarity, a common trait for vampires, but nearly unheard of for fledglings. In fact most newly turned vampires couldn't speak at all.
“To whom am I speaking?”
“The master of the vessels.”
Vampire masters, were said to have a powerful influence over their sires, but this was the first she heard of, (or seen for that matter) this level of control. The fact that he used a plural form the word made her think that the others were experiencing a similar encounter. “So you have my Hunters do ya? Now what?”
“A feisty one I see. I would expect nothing less from the daughter of Minerva. You are a striking image of her, but I didn't come to admire The Goddess of Death. No, I'm merely an observer. This is a test you see...for a new breed of Vampire. If you survive the night, the rising of the sun will grant you freedom. If not, then you simply were not worthy of being my adversary. Will the Harbingers live up to the legend, or will your moment of glory be a fleeting spark? Now before we begin, have you any questions?”
Ingrid stared at the puppet vessel holding Aleister, giving the hunter a wink she trained a single gun on her target. “Just one. How many vampires hold my team hostage?”
“Three.”
“And you control all of them?”
“That's two, but yes.”
“Then a word of wisdom. A Spark can become a raging inferno.” With her last word she pulled the trigger. The super heated round entered the vampire's cranium and immediately went to work. Within moments the eyes began to melt in their sockets as an inner fire consumed the creature's brain. Melting flesh continued to travel down the body igniting it further. Ingrid pulled Aleister out the way lest he be caught in the blaze as well; his face looked ashen in the light of the blaze. Ingrid might have felt the same had she not been used to it. The others were experiencing a similar feat, as the influence of the Master was so great that (if only for a moment ) he felt he was indeed in an inferno. The sensation was so real the very thought of it caused the others under his control to spontaneously combust.
Placing her hand to her ear she contacted the others. “Is everyone okay?” When she received confirmation she moved on. As she stepped over the pile of ashes formerly known as a vampire her attention turned to her partner. “This is not the time to dawdle. All hell is about to break loose.” A new message came over the com, it was from Nickolas; he'd arrived late, but at least he was here. “Good of you to join us Nickolas, feel free to back up either Hilde and Nathaniel or Aleister and I. You'll find Hilde in the west wing and I'm in the east wing. Do not venture alone.”
Before they could enter the next set of rooms they felt a rush of air, as if something had run past them at great speed. When she turned to confer with Aleister he wasn't there, instead he had moved a good five feet down the hall. A vampire had seized him from behind and was using him as a human shield. “I wouldn't do anything rash if I were you.” The creature spoke with eloquence and clarity, a common trait for vampires, but nearly unheard of for fledglings. In fact most newly turned vampires couldn't speak at all.
“To whom am I speaking?”
“The master of the vessels.”
Vampire masters, were said to have a powerful influence over their sires, but this was the first she heard of, (or seen for that matter) this level of control. The fact that he used a plural form the word made her think that the others were experiencing a similar encounter. “So you have my Hunters do ya? Now what?”
“A feisty one I see. I would expect nothing less from the daughter of Minerva. You are a striking image of her, but I didn't come to admire The Goddess of Death. No, I'm merely an observer. This is a test you see...for a new breed of Vampire. If you survive the night, the rising of the sun will grant you freedom. If not, then you simply were not worthy of being my adversary. Will the Harbingers live up to the legend, or will your moment of glory be a fleeting spark? Now before we begin, have you any questions?”
Ingrid stared at the puppet vessel holding Aleister, giving the hunter a wink she trained a single gun on her target. “Just one. How many vampires hold my team hostage?”
“Three.”
“And you control all of them?”
“That's two, but yes.”
“Then a word of wisdom. A Spark can become a raging inferno.” With her last word she pulled the trigger. The super heated round entered the vampire's cranium and immediately went to work. Within moments the eyes began to melt in their sockets as an inner fire consumed the creature's brain. Melting flesh continued to travel down the body igniting it further. Ingrid pulled Aleister out the way lest he be caught in the blaze as well; his face looked ashen in the light of the blaze. Ingrid might have felt the same had she not been used to it. The others were experiencing a similar feat, as the influence of the Master was so great that (if only for a moment ) he felt he was indeed in an inferno. The sensation was so real the very thought of it caused the others under his control to spontaneously combust.
Placing her hand to her ear she contacted the others. “Is everyone okay?” When she received confirmation she moved on. As she stepped over the pile of ashes formerly known as a vampire her attention turned to her partner. “This is not the time to dawdle. All hell is about to break loose.” A new message came over the com, it was from Nickolas; he'd arrived late, but at least he was here. “Good of you to join us Nickolas, feel free to back up either Hilde and Nathaniel or Aleister and I. You'll find Hilde in the west wing and I'm in the east wing. Do not venture alone.”
Hilde noted the new presence at her back with a grateful nod. This was going to be dangerous, no matter how you sliced it, but it was nice to know she had someone at her six. Especially someone as reliable as Damages. Treading soundlessly into the hallway, Hilde kept her bow tracking the movement of her eyes, which were never still, flicking back and forth over the still corridors, ever-watchful for movement. Her heart was picking up pace in her chest, the pumping subtly audible in her ears like the low pulse of a bassline, the drums in the symphony, keeping the time upon which all else was built.
And that was what was wrong with vampires, wasn’t it? They played with no underlying, stable beat, no foundation to their existence. They were all melody and caprice and hunger, untethered to the metronome that ticked away the hours of mortal beings, inexorable, but welcomed, when you understood the alternative.
A small movement caught Hilde’s peripheral vision—like the improper shift of a shadow and no more. “Heads u—“ her warning was cut off even with her breath, as an arm like an iron vise clamped around her waist, dragging her forward at a speed human beings were never meant to move. She felt the nausea stirring and pushed it back, away from the immediate. An echoing clatter informed her that her bow had hit the ground, just then completing the journey preordained for it by gravity. It was a testament to the speed at which her captor was able to pull her along, as though it weighed nothing.
Her silver-tipped arrow was still clasped loosely in one hand, though; she’d had just enough reaction time to ensure she didn’t drop it. The creature holding her did not appear to notice, as its gaze was fixed on Damages. She felt cold steel at her throat, and knew it was holding a knife to her head.
Then it started on some spiel about being the master of the vessels, which was fine and likely important, so she made eye contact with Damages, then flicked them up to the creature, trying to convey to him that he should keep it talking. She, for one, was not content to be used as a mere bargaining chip. That ship had sailed, and she was stronger now, faster and better and not about to give up and let this so-called “master” yank her chain around as he pleased.
The actual trick was going to require some time and some squirming though; the newborn holding her was many times stronger than she was, and already its grip was tight enough to begin squeezing the air from her lungs if she allowed it. Instead, she measured her breaths, exhaling no more than absolutely necessary so that there would always be room to inhale again, but that tactic wasn’t going to do forever. She wondered if the creature even knew it was holding a mere fragile human and not a Slayer, who likely would have faced no such problem.
But it didn’t matter. This mere human was going to be a problem for it yet. Slowly walking her fingers up the shaft of the arrow, she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, on Damages, mostly, though she wasn’t really looking at him so much as she was looking beyond him. At least she’d know if he made any sudden movements, which she was trusting not to happen if she wanted to stay alive. A fingertip brushed the head of the arrow, and she slowly turned it about between her index and middle digits, reversing it so that the whole thing was pointing backwards. The trick was doing all of this carefully enough that the newborn or whatever was controlling it would not notice its mistake.
Then she shifted it again, so that her tight-fisted grip was somewhere around the middle, and shifted her gaze to actually catch Nate’s again, nodding with the subtlest of movements. A delay of three seconds, and then Hilde moved, throwing her head backwards to slam her skull into the newborn’s nose, an action which wouldn’t do much damage but hopefully would startle it. Reflexively, the creature tried to put distance between them, and the knife came away from her throat.
“Heh.” Grinning, Hilde jerked her arm backwards in a quick motion, burying the silver-alloyed arrowhead in the newborn’s thigh, then dropping and rolling forward as quickly as she could to clear a shot for the still-armed Damages. Running low, she retrieved her bow and had another shot nocked and aimed just in time to see what remained of it burst into flame. Boss-lady’s voice followed soon after, and Hilde raised an eyebrow.
“What would you have done if I was still that thing’s captive, anyway? We humans don’t take well to fire, you know?” Despite the words, there was clearly a smile in the tone, and Ingrid would doubtless be able to detect it. Rolling both shoulders, Hilde glanced at Nathanial.
“Well, this sounds like fun. Kill bloodsuckers until the morning comes or die? It’s almost like they don’t know who we are or something.”
And that was what was wrong with vampires, wasn’t it? They played with no underlying, stable beat, no foundation to their existence. They were all melody and caprice and hunger, untethered to the metronome that ticked away the hours of mortal beings, inexorable, but welcomed, when you understood the alternative.
A small movement caught Hilde’s peripheral vision—like the improper shift of a shadow and no more. “Heads u—“ her warning was cut off even with her breath, as an arm like an iron vise clamped around her waist, dragging her forward at a speed human beings were never meant to move. She felt the nausea stirring and pushed it back, away from the immediate. An echoing clatter informed her that her bow had hit the ground, just then completing the journey preordained for it by gravity. It was a testament to the speed at which her captor was able to pull her along, as though it weighed nothing.
Her silver-tipped arrow was still clasped loosely in one hand, though; she’d had just enough reaction time to ensure she didn’t drop it. The creature holding her did not appear to notice, as its gaze was fixed on Damages. She felt cold steel at her throat, and knew it was holding a knife to her head.
Then it started on some spiel about being the master of the vessels, which was fine and likely important, so she made eye contact with Damages, then flicked them up to the creature, trying to convey to him that he should keep it talking. She, for one, was not content to be used as a mere bargaining chip. That ship had sailed, and she was stronger now, faster and better and not about to give up and let this so-called “master” yank her chain around as he pleased.
The actual trick was going to require some time and some squirming though; the newborn holding her was many times stronger than she was, and already its grip was tight enough to begin squeezing the air from her lungs if she allowed it. Instead, she measured her breaths, exhaling no more than absolutely necessary so that there would always be room to inhale again, but that tactic wasn’t going to do forever. She wondered if the creature even knew it was holding a mere fragile human and not a Slayer, who likely would have faced no such problem.
But it didn’t matter. This mere human was going to be a problem for it yet. Slowly walking her fingers up the shaft of the arrow, she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, on Damages, mostly, though she wasn’t really looking at him so much as she was looking beyond him. At least she’d know if he made any sudden movements, which she was trusting not to happen if she wanted to stay alive. A fingertip brushed the head of the arrow, and she slowly turned it about between her index and middle digits, reversing it so that the whole thing was pointing backwards. The trick was doing all of this carefully enough that the newborn or whatever was controlling it would not notice its mistake.
Then she shifted it again, so that her tight-fisted grip was somewhere around the middle, and shifted her gaze to actually catch Nate’s again, nodding with the subtlest of movements. A delay of three seconds, and then Hilde moved, throwing her head backwards to slam her skull into the newborn’s nose, an action which wouldn’t do much damage but hopefully would startle it. Reflexively, the creature tried to put distance between them, and the knife came away from her throat.
“Heh.” Grinning, Hilde jerked her arm backwards in a quick motion, burying the silver-alloyed arrowhead in the newborn’s thigh, then dropping and rolling forward as quickly as she could to clear a shot for the still-armed Damages. Running low, she retrieved her bow and had another shot nocked and aimed just in time to see what remained of it burst into flame. Boss-lady’s voice followed soon after, and Hilde raised an eyebrow.
“What would you have done if I was still that thing’s captive, anyway? We humans don’t take well to fire, you know?” Despite the words, there was clearly a smile in the tone, and Ingrid would doubtless be able to detect it. Rolling both shoulders, Hilde glanced at Nathanial.
“Well, this sounds like fun. Kill bloodsuckers until the morning comes or die? It’s almost like they don’t know who we are or something.”
Setting
0.00 INK
Aleister stared for a moment at what little remained of the so-called Master of Vessels. There were a number of reasons he was startled. For instance, the blasted creature had managed to catch him unawares. It had exploded in a giant fireball. Ingrid had missed his face by two bleeding inches.
"Business as usual, I presume?" he said at last. "Can't say I like the sound o' this 'test.'"
He might have suggested that they just leave the hospital. It was abundantly clear what was going on in here. But he could picture clear as day in his mind the disapproving look Ingrid would shoot him, the same one he was bound to get used to as his employment went on. No, they were here for a reason, and that was to end the vampire threat.
Even if said threat was not exactly vampires, as far as he was familiar with them. Were they just humans infused with Nocturne, or were they something more? More importantly, just how many of them were in here? Pandora General had five floors, each the size of a large gymnasium and sectioned off with hundreds of rooms and corridors. It was classic horror story.
"Well," he began, keeping in step behind Ingrid, his crossbow perched casually on his shoulder, "we can bunker down. Find a fortified position, keep our 'eads low 'til dawn. Or, if it's a 'test' they want, we can give 'em one hell of an exam."
As if on cue, a body slunk into view from around a far corner. Even from two dozen yards down the hall, Aleister could make out the deep violet glow emanating from its eyes, like two lapis gems in flawless moonlight. It took one bounding leap toward the pair, but that was all it could manage before Aleister leveled his crossbow and let loose a bolt. The sickening, squelching crunch of the projectile embedding firmly in the creature's skull coincided with the rigid, mechanical grind of the crossbow locking back into place.
Setting another bolt into the flight groove, Aleister kept his gaze on Ingrid. "I kinda like the second option. An' sumpin tells me that hot little firecracker in ya does too."
"Business as usual, I presume?" he said at last. "Can't say I like the sound o' this 'test.'"
He might have suggested that they just leave the hospital. It was abundantly clear what was going on in here. But he could picture clear as day in his mind the disapproving look Ingrid would shoot him, the same one he was bound to get used to as his employment went on. No, they were here for a reason, and that was to end the vampire threat.
Even if said threat was not exactly vampires, as far as he was familiar with them. Were they just humans infused with Nocturne, or were they something more? More importantly, just how many of them were in here? Pandora General had five floors, each the size of a large gymnasium and sectioned off with hundreds of rooms and corridors. It was classic horror story.
"Well," he began, keeping in step behind Ingrid, his crossbow perched casually on his shoulder, "we can bunker down. Find a fortified position, keep our 'eads low 'til dawn. Or, if it's a 'test' they want, we can give 'em one hell of an exam."
As if on cue, a body slunk into view from around a far corner. Even from two dozen yards down the hall, Aleister could make out the deep violet glow emanating from its eyes, like two lapis gems in flawless moonlight. It took one bounding leap toward the pair, but that was all it could manage before Aleister leveled his crossbow and let loose a bolt. The sickening, squelching crunch of the projectile embedding firmly in the creature's skull coincided with the rigid, mechanical grind of the crossbow locking back into place.
Setting another bolt into the flight groove, Aleister kept his gaze on Ingrid. "I kinda like the second option. An' sumpin tells me that hot little firecracker in ya does too."
- 70 posts here • Page 3 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
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View All » Add Character » 15 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Raphael Avenarius
Wrong side of the tracks.
Ginger (Gin) Parker
A Slayer sheltered from her true identity until two years ago. She is now on a quest to find out who she truly is and her role in this world.
Raven Aleister
A scruffy-looking Hunter with an ancient, half-finished engineering degree and a penchant for tinkering.
Vageryn
The enigmatic benefactor of the Harbingers, Vageryn is both a mystery and an asset to the organization. The knowledge held within his gold eyes belay his youthful looks and it is rumored; to fight him, is to know defeat.
Hikari Kiyoharu
Featured in Harbringers, Hikari Kiyoharu is a Slayer, complete with all the gifts implied by such a title. Hilariously, she somehow hasn't figured this out yet.
Trending
Raven Aleister
A scruffy-looking Hunter with an ancient, half-finished engineering degree and a penchant for tinkering.
Vageryn
The enigmatic benefactor of the Harbingers, Vageryn is both a mystery and an asset to the organization. The knowledge held within his gold eyes belay his youthful looks and it is rumored; to fight him, is to know defeat.
Ginger (Gin) Parker
A Slayer sheltered from her true identity until two years ago. She is now on a quest to find out who she truly is and her role in this world.
Raphael Avenarius
Wrong side of the tracks.
Hikari Kiyoharu
Featured in Harbringers, Hikari Kiyoharu is a Slayer, complete with all the gifts implied by such a title. Hilariously, she somehow hasn't figured this out yet.
Most Followed
Hikari Kiyoharu
Featured in Harbringers, Hikari Kiyoharu is a Slayer, complete with all the gifts implied by such a title. Hilariously, she somehow hasn't figured this out yet.
Ginger (Gin) Parker
A Slayer sheltered from her true identity until two years ago. She is now on a quest to find out who she truly is and her role in this world.
Raphael Avenarius
Wrong side of the tracks.
Raven Aleister
A scruffy-looking Hunter with an ancient, half-finished engineering degree and a penchant for tinkering.
Vageryn
The enigmatic benefactor of the Harbingers, Vageryn is both a mystery and an asset to the organization. The knowledge held within his gold eyes belay his youthful looks and it is rumored; to fight him, is to know defeat.
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Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Harbingers: Out of Character
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Most recent OOC posts in Harbingers
Re: Harbingers
I'd say it's publishable. Don't worry about it being predictable. I think differently than most. Though when it comes to writing you and I tend to have similar ideas.
Re: Harbingers
Hmm... this is the first time anyone has described it as predictable. I take it you wouldn't call it publishable then?
Re: Harbingers
Pretty good myself. Hoping it won't be cloudy on Monday and Tuesday; really want to get some stargazing in during the Lunar Eclipse. Mars has been spectacular this year. I'm working on a project inspired by the dreams I've had throughout my life and my recent forays in lucid states, not sure where it's going yet, but the more I write it, the more it starts to come together; should be interesting.
I'll give it a look Adam.
(ETA) Finished.
A pretty good read, but a bit predictable. Be it the title of the piece, the foreshadowing or my own perceptions, Devon's fate was a foregone conclusion for me. However, the journey was a riveting one. All in all I'd say that it was great origin story for an antagonist in this universe.
I'll give it a look Adam.
(ETA) Finished.
A pretty good read, but a bit predictable. Be it the title of the piece, the foreshadowing or my own perceptions, Devon's fate was a foregone conclusion for me. However, the journey was a riveting one. All in all I'd say that it was great origin story for an antagonist in this universe.
Re: Harbingers
Doing pretty well, how about you?
I put the finishing touches on my story. It's nearly ready for publication; I'm just waiting on various feedback before I finalise it and send it off. If any of you are interested in reading it and giving some feedback, that would mean the world to me.
I put the finishing touches on my story. It's nearly ready for publication; I'm just waiting on various feedback before I finalise it and send it off. If any of you are interested in reading it and giving some feedback, that would mean the world to me.
Re: Harbingers
PhD... my three least favourite letters right now. Most of my advisors are encouraging me to pursue one, and at least one of them insists I would excel...
But I have been in school non-stop, every year, every term, for (at the conclusion of this term) twenty years straight now, and I must say, I am absolutely sick of it. I love what I'm learning and I love my research, but I am sick of going to class, sick of homework, sick of writing papers according to someone else's standards... And worst of all I find it creatively exhausting. I haven't been able to write anything fictiony since starting grad school. I've tried to force myself, but I just can't do it. I am literally only a few paragraphs and a brief revision from publishing my short story, and I can't get it done. So I think I'm just gonna take my MS and run.
But I have been in school non-stop, every year, every term, for (at the conclusion of this term) twenty years straight now, and I must say, I am absolutely sick of it. I love what I'm learning and I love my research, but I am sick of going to class, sick of homework, sick of writing papers according to someone else's standards... And worst of all I find it creatively exhausting. I haven't been able to write anything fictiony since starting grad school. I've tried to force myself, but I just can't do it. I am literally only a few paragraphs and a brief revision from publishing my short story, and I can't get it done. So I think I'm just gonna take my MS and run.
Re: Harbingers
I'm up to my usual stuff: Staying healthy, brainstorming ideas for my current RP, mulling around ideas for others and toying with RPG Maker VX Ace (lite). On the the book side of things I'm finally getting around to finishing the History of Dracula and I'm about to delve into the Odyssey series by Arthur C. Clark. My current games are Uncharted 3, Assassin's Creed 4 and Borderlands 2 (finally making a dent in my backlog).
Also, while I don't watch much in the way of television, I will say that HBO's, True Detective and NBC's, The Black List, are definitely worth watching.
Also, while I don't watch much in the way of television, I will say that HBO's, True Detective and NBC's, The Black List, are definitely worth watching.
Re: Harbingers
Well, I'm currently in the process of hearing back from various PhD programs and therefore trying to decide where I want to go to graduate school. Other than that... working, mostly, and keeping the bills paid and all that junk. Not too much to report.
I hope the rest of you are in good health though.
I hope the rest of you are in good health though.
Re: Harbingers
Heya folks.
Figured it was a good time to check in, see what the gang is up to. It's been quite a while.
I haven't been doing much other than working and going to school. I'm in my fourth semester now, which should be my last, but the department is not being operated correctly and the one class I need was cut from this term and may not be offered again for another year, so I'll be in school for some time yet.
Other than that I've been killing time playing Tales of Xillia and Lightning Returns, as well as continuing work on my own RPG and coming to the realisation that writing a script for an entire game is a lot more complicated than it sounds.
So that's my life for the past couple months. How are you folks doing?
Figured it was a good time to check in, see what the gang is up to. It's been quite a while.
I haven't been doing much other than working and going to school. I'm in my fourth semester now, which should be my last, but the department is not being operated correctly and the one class I need was cut from this term and may not be offered again for another year, so I'll be in school for some time yet.
Other than that I've been killing time playing Tales of Xillia and Lightning Returns, as well as continuing work on my own RPG and coming to the realisation that writing a script for an entire game is a lot more complicated than it sounds.
So that's my life for the past couple months. How are you folks doing?
Re: Harbingers
Sorry to hear about your health. Hopefully you are feeling better now and able to work.
You are more than welcome to check out Dragons.
Dracula was a great read, but made me dislike the movies a bit. None of them truly captured the book; which is sad because it is really good. Bram Stoker's Dracula was an interesting movie to be sure. It was wonderfully Gothic, but a departure from the source material. Giving him a tragic love story was just the wrong way to go. I feel like the writer of the script was a fan of Strahd (My second favorite vampire; the first being Kain, from Blood Omen)
Next on my list is 'Homeland' by R.A. Salvatore.
You are more than welcome to check out Dragons.
Dracula was a great read, but made me dislike the movies a bit. None of them truly captured the book; which is sad because it is really good. Bram Stoker's Dracula was an interesting movie to be sure. It was wonderfully Gothic, but a departure from the source material. Giving him a tragic love story was just the wrong way to go. I feel like the writer of the script was a fan of Strahd (My second favorite vampire; the first being Kain, from Blood Omen)
Next on my list is 'Homeland' by R.A. Salvatore.
Re: Harbingers
Hi guys, glad to see you're still around as well. I've been struggling with my health as well lately as well as the financial difficulties of being out of work due to health. I have also been missing roleplaying with you guys, miss Nathanial and Harbingers too, but just roleplaying with you guys in general!
Re: Harbingers
Hey Karen, long time no see. My health hasn't been the greatest of late, but other than that I've been doing pretty good. Lately I've been wrapped up in The Witcher 2 and reading Bram Stoker's Dracula.
How have you been?
How have you been?
Re: Harbingers
I wouldn't call it that. I've been on several forums in my Role Play lifetime and all have the same issues. Role Plays do finish, but it's rare. I'm hoping to one day complete a Role Play, that would be awesome. But I've enjoyed all the Role Plays I've been in and I like writing with others. I would love to see this one continue.
In the meantime I have Dragons to keep me from going nuts lol. Dragons of Terra Firma
I will be keeping an eye on this space and hopefully the others will return. If not then maybe I can do something else with Harbingers, like make it a Halloween event or something.
In the meantime I have Dragons to keep me from going nuts lol. Dragons of Terra Firma
I will be keeping an eye on this space and hopefully the others will return. If not then maybe I can do something else with Harbingers, like make it a Halloween event or something.
Re: Harbingers
We commonly joke that this is the site RPs go to die.
I myself have only been in one RP that has actually concluded, story-wise. Its sequel was ended on official terms, but only because we all decided together that, due to our real lives, we couldn't go on with it.
But I am still here too. I am perfectly willing to keep writing for this RP if it picks up again. I think my post is still the most recent one, at the moment.
I'm still getting that bloody annoying issue that causes me to see random members' profiles instead of my own, so I may be slow to pick up on new posts.
I myself have only been in one RP that has actually concluded, story-wise. Its sequel was ended on official terms, but only because we all decided together that, due to our real lives, we couldn't go on with it.
But I am still here too. I am perfectly willing to keep writing for this RP if it picks up again. I think my post is still the most recent one, at the moment.
I'm still getting that bloody annoying issue that causes me to see random members' profiles instead of my own, so I may be slow to pick up on new posts.
Re: Harbingers
Hi guys, I'm still around...ish, I am not really doing any roleplaying at the moment as have gotten fed up with the roleplays I join dying when things start getting interesting. I have been on this site for a couple of years now and I have never managed to join a roleplay that has reached its conclusion. But I am still around for you guys lol
Re: Harbingers
Marcus Starbreze (Trickster Rogue) is my character in Neverwinter. They are going through some re-balancing so hopefully they don't nerf the Rogue. There have been quite a few complaints about them being too powerful; which is total bs. I'm on the Minflayer server.
I look forward to seeing what you've been working on.
I look forward to seeing what you've been working on.
Re: Harbingers
Well, it's been a while since I've been able to see any updates to my threads. It seems any attempt to view my posts redirects me to a random user's posts instead. Today I saw my own, and saw this month-old update that I missed until now, which is unfortunate.
It's good to see you're still around. Myself, I've stopped participating here altogether. I don't have the time, energy, or inclination anymore. Being unable to track my own posts anymore hasn't helped that feeling. However, now that summer vacation has arrived, I'm getting back into my fiction writing. I will be submitting a short story for publication by the end of the month, the purpose of which is a precursor to a much larger project I've been working on over the past year or so.
I've dabbled in Neverwinter myself, although I haven't hit level 15 to try out the Foundry yet. I hope to do so soon. Tell me your character name so I can add you to my contacts. Maybe we can run a dungeon or something together. Or create one.
Another thing I hope to accomplish by the end of the summer is a special gift for you and the rest of the FFVIII veterans. I'm looking forward to its completion and the time when I can present it to all of you. I think you'll like it.
It's good to see you're still around. Myself, I've stopped participating here altogether. I don't have the time, energy, or inclination anymore. Being unable to track my own posts anymore hasn't helped that feeling. However, now that summer vacation has arrived, I'm getting back into my fiction writing. I will be submitting a short story for publication by the end of the month, the purpose of which is a precursor to a much larger project I've been working on over the past year or so.
I've dabbled in Neverwinter myself, although I haven't hit level 15 to try out the Foundry yet. I hope to do so soon. Tell me your character name so I can add you to my contacts. Maybe we can run a dungeon or something together. Or create one.
Another thing I hope to accomplish by the end of the summer is a special gift for you and the rest of the FFVIII veterans. I'm looking forward to its completion and the time when I can present it to all of you. I think you'll like it.
Re: Harbingers
.....Greetings guys. Hope you all are doing well. I just came to check up on the forums and to give you guys a small taste of a project I'm working on. It's only a profile right now, but I will soon have the world fleshed out. There will be much more to come. Let me know what you think. Besides this and another project, I've also been spending quite a bit of time in Neverwinter; an MMO by Cryptic and Perfect World Entertainment. It's currently in it's Open Beta and it's been pretty cool so far. In a lot of ways it feels like Neverwinter Nights on much grander scale. They have a section known as the Foundry, that allows you to create your own campaigns. I've been looking it over and while not everything has been implemented yet, it looks like a quest maker's dream. Anyway that's pretty much what I've been up to. How has everyone else been?
Dragons of Terra Firma
(From the Pen of the Scribe, David)
(From the Pen of the Scribe, David)
Name: Dalmar
Age:25
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Appearance: A handsome young man that often is given quite a few looks from those around him. This is mainly due to his unusual traits. While it is nothing to see and old wise sage or Arcanist with the traits he bears, it is unheard of in one so young. To gain Silver or even Gold eyes requires a lifetime studying the Arcane Arts; it is a sign of power. White/Silver hair is only worn by the elderly. Dalmar is neither an Arcanist nor an Elder, yet he was born with the traits of both; the aforementioned hair falls to his shoulders.
As a child this granted him much attention, most of it unwanted, so he often hid them beneath a hooded cloak; his preference was a dark colored one. The clothes he wore were that of what all children wore, though of much higher quality; yes they were dark as well. As a young man however, he stopped hiding his features and people simply got used to them, though they secretly feared him. His taste for dark clothing has not diminished in the slightest, in fact they bring out his features in a most striking way; they can be quite intimidating.
When he isn't wearing his regal Silver embroidered doublet and matching trews, he is adorned in armor of similar design; sans the helm. It does nothing to quell the intimidation.
Weapon: If blades could talk, what a tale this one would tell. Imagine as it begins with its first conquest the regales us with its ever increasing...er perhaps not. Blades are designed with a single purpose in mind. The last thing we want is to hear the gory details; unless you are in to that sort of thing anyway. You may be thinking that this Brand is of remarkable make or perhaps enchanted, but it is not. Maltira, (that is what he calls it anyway) is your typical Hand and a Half sword often referred to as a Bastard Sword. A Starnight Gem, set in the pommel, is the only thing that really sets it apart. The Gem is a symbol of status and nothing more. Anyone who can survive those accursed caverns and still be of sound mind is truly to be respected. If Hell exists, those caverns are surely its entrance.
Background: As a scribe it is my duty to record all that I have witnessed, but this mans history is clouded as is his destiny. I fear the very act of writing down what I do know will be the end of me. To the one that finds this, know that this man's past is not what he believes, the day he learns the truth is fast approaching; and when that day comes? ...Velmon help us all.
From this point on, all that I write will be as I see it. We scribes are blessed with the gift of Sight. We see the events of the world and record all we bare witness to. It is our lot in life. We do this through our Seer Pools and our Mind's Eye. I sense the writing of this man's life is of great importance, as do all scribes of their charges. The wind of change is about to blow and the players are about to take the stage.
Before my fellow scribes arrive I feel it prudent to inform the reader that our world at this time is not what it appears. There is no war, but we are not at peace. We exist, but we do not live. The iron fist of The Queen is a burden on us all and her hunger for power grows. The fires of war will be ignited again.
As a child this granted him much attention, most of it unwanted, so he often hid them beneath a hooded cloak; his preference was a dark colored one. The clothes he wore were that of what all children wore, though of much higher quality; yes they were dark as well. As a young man however, he stopped hiding his features and people simply got used to them, though they secretly feared him. His taste for dark clothing has not diminished in the slightest, in fact they bring out his features in a most striking way; they can be quite intimidating.
When he isn't wearing his regal Silver embroidered doublet and matching trews, he is adorned in armor of similar design; sans the helm. It does nothing to quell the intimidation.
Weapon: If blades could talk, what a tale this one would tell. Imagine as it begins with its first conquest the regales us with its ever increasing...er perhaps not. Blades are designed with a single purpose in mind. The last thing we want is to hear the gory details; unless you are in to that sort of thing anyway. You may be thinking that this Brand is of remarkable make or perhaps enchanted, but it is not. Maltira, (that is what he calls it anyway) is your typical Hand and a Half sword often referred to as a Bastard Sword. A Starnight Gem, set in the pommel, is the only thing that really sets it apart. The Gem is a symbol of status and nothing more. Anyone who can survive those accursed caverns and still be of sound mind is truly to be respected. If Hell exists, those caverns are surely its entrance.
Background: As a scribe it is my duty to record all that I have witnessed, but this mans history is clouded as is his destiny. I fear the very act of writing down what I do know will be the end of me. To the one that finds this, know that this man's past is not what he believes, the day he learns the truth is fast approaching; and when that day comes? ...Velmon help us all.
From this point on, all that I write will be as I see it. We scribes are blessed with the gift of Sight. We see the events of the world and record all we bare witness to. It is our lot in life. We do this through our Seer Pools and our Mind's Eye. I sense the writing of this man's life is of great importance, as do all scribes of their charges. The wind of change is about to blow and the players are about to take the stage.
Before my fellow scribes arrive I feel it prudent to inform the reader that our world at this time is not what it appears. There is no war, but we are not at peace. We exist, but we do not live. The iron fist of The Queen is a burden on us all and her hunger for power grows. The fires of war will be ignited again.