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The Multiverse » Arcs » RIP Relations

The Vankoryth Detente make allies with the RIP, promising to turn over rogue vampires.

As written by: lostamongtrees, Nemo


21 pieces and 4 characters involved, written by 2 different authors.

1 places involved




So begins...

RIP Relations


The 'RIP'Setting: The 'RIP'


The rat had scurried through the Cursed Wood, it had scurried down The Decline. Over the path and into the grass, there went the rat carrying an important message. On it's back strapped an envelope, sealed with a rose pressed into blood red wax.

It came upon the entrance and stopped, hoisting on it's back legs and letting loose a feral screech. The noise echoed off of the exterior, letting whoever would hear know that the rat was here.

Whoever would find the rat would easily be able to remove the envelope, which contained The Blood Edict. There was also a handwritten letter from someCasren Bistreo, said leader of the Vankoryth Detente.

Sooner than later we should make acquaintances.
Your doorstep or mine?
The rat would return to its masters with the letter intact, the only new markings evident on the parchment being two neat cursive words: "Mine. Tonight."

Whoever showed up at the 'RIP' that night would find the doors opened for them, allowing them entryway into the grand atria of the facility. Several armed NPA Enforcers would escort them through the lavishly decorated ballrooms, offering a short smattering of apologies.

"Doctor Davrell is eager to meet you," one of the agents assured the guests, "he's a bit tied up with an inmate right now, but he should be able to entertain you shortly."
Night had come.

The elder vampire had brought four escorts, two of which would remain outside, who were ordered to keep their teeth hidden at all times. Whatever, Casren found himself thinking as he climbed from a small automobile. It was annoying to have two men constantly glued to you, but Casren was apparently a semi-important person now. Of course, the guards were in their positions immediately: Two by the car, two up his ass.

Through the entrance way they went, Casren was pleased to see the facility operating professionally. As they paraded through grand rooms, he couldn't help but wonder exactly where they kept...Everyone.

"No, no," He waved away apologies, refusing to bother with them.
"I understand Doctor Davrell must be very busy," Casren smiled with his lips closed, and allowed himself to be ushered to whatever office or sitting room they would be taken to. His guards, however, were less than easy. There was something about this place that they didn't like.
Joran Davrell smiled warmly. "Everything can be arranged with the right behavior, my dear." He strode over to the side of her bed. "...and I'm pleased to say that you've been a very, very good girl thus far. An exemplary guest, truly." He nodded, almost beaming with a quiet pride. "That was actually my purpose of coming in here today, Timo. Much as I've enjoyed our daily chats, there's an important matter I need to discuss with you." The doctor pulled up a nearby chair, casually assuming a seat next to the dhampir.

"As you know, the Institution has finally been completed. I'm having something of a party come this weekend to celebrate. Many Terran politicians and social icons will be attending." He straightened his tie. "I need a postergirl. A real-life example of how this Facility can change paranormals for the better." He smiled, extending his hand and placing it gingerly over the girl's. "I would be honored if you would consider attending the gala with me as my date for the evening."
Joran Davrell chuckled humorously. "Much as my passions would entice me to undress you myself, I'm afraid that basic chivalry demands I remove myself from-"

A guard wrapped on the door. "Doctor."

Joran turned towards the man, attempting to mask his frustration. "What."

"Lord Castren of the Vankoryth has arrived, sir. He's been waiting for two minutes now in the atria."

The professor grumbled, massaging his temple wearily. "Heavens. I thought I left enough time for that." He turned back to Timo apologetically. "You must excuse me, my dear. Politics and trivialities call me elsewhere, much against my will."
Casren waited with his guards, simply taking everything in while he waited for his host. Quite a beautiful place, it must have had quite a many supporters.

His corpse-guards flanked him, grossly stoic to Casren's easy professionalism.
Joran Davrell would walk swiftly over to Casren from where he sat waiting in the atria, offering the vampire a warm smile and a heart handshake.

"Lord Casren Bistreo of Castle Vankoryth," he greeted the vampire, "it is my sincere honor to welcome you to the Rehabilitation Institute for Paranormals. I hope I have not kept you waiting too long." He gestured to the grand atrium about them, nodding towards the structure's vivid architecture and priceless artwork that decorated the place.

"I hope your stay thus far has not been unpleasant?"
"Doctor Davrell," Casren took the hand and shook it, hopin his icy skin wasn't too much of a bother. Then again, he may be used to it, given the nature of his work.

"Thank you," He smiled, doing his best to hide his fangs, then waved off again the apology for the wait. "Not at all. Quite a lavish contrast to the usual I assure you." The old vampire looked towards the paintings and art pieces, squinting at one for a moment.
"Is that an original Vortadro? Impressive collection. Ah, it is but an honor to be here! Not every day the likes of our species meet over peace," Casren turned his full attention back to Doctor Davrell.
Joran shook the hand firmly, not at all visibly upset.

"My compliments, Lord Casren," the elderly professor smiled, "you certainly know your post-Romanesque artists." He nodded towards the frame, depicting a vivid painting of a brilliant archangel descending upon a horde of squabbling demons, bloodied sword in hand. "It took me quite some time to hunt down Michael Confronts the Dragon, but it was worth every hour and every penny."

"Not every day the likes of our species meet over peace."

He smiled warmly. "As you can see, Lord Bistreo, this entire structure is dedicated to peace. I created the Institute with the intent to forge stronger ties between the human and paranormal societies. I can think of no better place to parley." He gestured towards an ascending marble staircase. "Perhaps you would like to take this meeting to my office?"
Casren nodded commendably at Michael Confronts the Dragon. It was one of the highest speculated pieces in the art world of Terra, if not for it's interpretation, for it's sheer technical skill.

"An excellant proposition," Casren spoke of the stronger ties as he moved towards the stairs on cue. His two guards followed suit, hands on their automatic weaponry.

"I personally see no conflict," he continued, "There are many of your race who are more than happy to help our kind survive, while our kind is more than willing to share the love, so to speak. Vampires are old, influence and wealth just kind of happens with us," He waved a hand, and pointed to one particular piece in the corner. It was smaller, and depicted a plain looking woman painted with exquisite photorealism. "I knew her, for example. Not the artist, though I tried," Casren sent a devilish wink to Doctor Davrell.
"Ah, I forget how interesting you vampires are," Joran smiled, "living for thousands of years has its perks, eh?" He approached the picture calmly, nodding with appreciative interest. "Monique des Oiseaux by Adelia Jacques. Beautiful, talented women. The both of them."

They advanced further through the halls before Joran presented a large series of sculptures to Casren, featuring several furious bowmen stalking a rather large wolf.

"Are you familiar with this one, sir?"
"Mmm," Casren nodded appreciatively, breathing in the scent of cool marble.

"Ad Fugandum Imparium, or To Hunt The Odd. From a time where man had more fear towards the creatures of the forest than hate. I can't decide which time was better for us," He leaned in closer, observing carefully the fear chiseled into the eyes of the human, the pure malice in the face of the wolf. Casren frowned, and straightened his posture.

With a small smile, he looked to Davrell and took a step onward. "I must say neither, times of primeval warfare and violence bore us now a days, and the ones who prefer it, well," Again, the small smile, but with a twinkle in his eye added on. If one paid attention, they would notice Casren pretend to smush something beneath his foot.

"The times have changed for a reason, eh?"
"Indeed they have," he nodded in turn, "and for the better." He opened a pair of large oak doors, offering the vampire admittance into his office.

Joran's office, like the rest of the rip, was lavishly decorated in Gothic architecture and various pieces of robust artwork. The key difference was the slightly warmer tang to the room, neatly complimented with scores of bookcases, framed diplomas and a roaring fireplace.

The doctor stepped around his desk, gesturing to a chair for Casren to take. "Times HAVE changed, Lord Bistreo. Gone are the days when monster hunted man and man exiled monster. We are all sentient beings now, endowed with rights and freedoms. We have as much obligation to respect one another as we do to protect each other." He reclined into his large chair, folding his hands over his desk. "Morality is not beyond any creature so long as he has the power to choose for himself."
Casren admired the office, it reminded him of his own library, but more lived in. He smiled to himself at the pun.

Taking a seat, Casren's guards again took their positions, one near Casren and one near the door. This time, the vampire couldn't help but roll his eyes. They were in an office, here on peaceful terms, surrounded in art.

"Very well put," Casren mirrored his pose. "Now that we both know what we don't want, let's get onto what we do want." This time, he revealed his teeth when he smiled.

"I'm sure you have read and reviewed the Blood Edict. Have you read the updated Elysium clause?" He passed an updated copy over to Davrell.

"Electronic copies are available as well. I do believe we are in the process of getting our own website. However, the Blood edict, I would like to hear your opinons on it. Many have stepped forth with strong concerns, many feel the measures are unnecessary, or brash, or irrational. I, obviously, feel otherwise. I feel there is a strong need to level the playing field, or this war between us will never end. No, we must live off of each other, but I digress. Your words?"
"I am quite familiar with your Edicts, Lord Casren," Joran nodded, "although I admit, most of it sounds like a territorial claim then it does a rulebook." He smiled. "My favorite section is 'The Humanity Clause', naturally. I am glad vampyre kind is taking measures to regulate and police itself."

He eyed the Elysium Clause cautiously. "Ah yes. I am familiar with this document." He looked back up at Casren. "It's fortunate that the Institution is located on the outskirts of the woods. I would hate to be in violation of your laws."
Casren nodded sagely.

"Yes, territorial claim is how it may seem at first, but once you look beyond the names of places," Casren leaned in, "You will find this particular clause has no real borders. You see, power is defined by respect, acknowledgement," He gestured around him, "Of which you bathe in. However, I am sure you have seen the unruly state of these lands, mortals and immortals at one another's throats. Many innocent lives are lost in the scuffle of the ignorant. The Blood Edict aspires, if anything, to assert peace under a common ground."

He didn't have to breath, but did anyway.

"The Vankoryth Detente, just a name, but such a name. We extend protection, elysium, peace, prosperity, and companionship in damnation. A vampire who wishes not to abide by the rules that, unless I am mistaken, every other species is willing to acknowledge as sound has no place in our nook of this world."

Casren paused yet again, adjusted his body, and resumed.

"As I understand, the Cursed Wood is cursed for a reason. Humans, mortals, what have you, you tend to avoid those trees. Is it too much to ask to keep this section of the world damned? If not for those who must unlive this way? Violations of our laws are punished to suit the crime. The only violation you should worry about is detaining one of our own," His eyebrows raised up high, "That has not defiled your species."

"But for those that have," Casren leaned back again. "For those Vampires who don't see it fit to abide by the laws Vampire and Man have come to agree on in Wing CIty and on Aslund, well. I do believe it is them that we must truly discuss. Your thoughts?"
"My concern is to the protection and wellbeing of the citizens of the Terran National Government," Joran responded with a kindred respect, "although the Institution and the ground it rests on belongs to the TNG, the Cursed Woods is outside of our domain of authority. So long as your kind do no harm to the good people of Terra, we shall have no reason to quarrell."

He leaned forward. "Now, as for any renegade vampire who should see it fit to live their life centered around a philosophy of violence and bloodlust... well... I am certain that they will be dealt with swiftly and justly."
[color=black]"The Terran National Government has nothing to personally fear from the Detente," Casren noted, "However it would be unjust to deny us creatures of the night our harvest, just as it would be unjust to deny you creatures of the day your slaughterhouses and murder farms. While we do not wish to harm the populace of Terra, we also do not wish to die out in the Wood, waiting for curious teenagers who 'shoulda known better'. That isn't exactly our style."

"While we won't be seeking the lives of the citizens of Aslund, we will be seeking for blood. I know there is talks to open an official route through the woods. Passage would be permitted based on a blood tax, but this is all under speculation. I understand our ways are not exactly what most would consider healthy, but we must feed somehow. This you cannot deny. While we are taking measures to minimize damage, it takes effort. Besides, you mortals off each other faster than we ever could."

He chuckled.

"The RIP is safe from us. I personally don't believe in bloodlust, violence only as a reactionary measure. For my fellow kin, I cannot deny them their nature. If they crave the blood, they crave the blood. If they crave the kill, they crave the kill. However, by aligning themselves with the Detente, they submit these urges."

Casren took a breath, held it, then pushed it back out.

"I have a proposition for you. We will not stand in your way if you wish to rehabilitate a vampire, so long as they are not affiliated with the Detente. If they are affiliated, we ask to be given the opportunity to handle the situation on our own terms, along with sufficient evidence for any claims against us you have. I assure you," Casren added darkly, "Breaking our laws is much more dire than breaking one of yours."

"Please do remember, we have our enemies. I'm not sure how much you know," His expression turned sour, "But one of our own was exiled after violating the Humanity Clause. If you find him," Casren waved a hand, indicating he didn't care what happened.
"My people are more then willing to be at peace with yours, Lord Casren," Joran replied calmly, "but you should know that we would never suspend Terran law on account of diplomatic relations. Killing Terran civilians is a crime. Period. There are alternatives vampires can seek out for feeding. The TNG provides a wide host of delectable blood-synthesis that are supplied to thousands of registered vampires every week."

The professor reclined nonchalantly. "I can respect the Detente and their determination to bring order to vampire kind, but your rules do not supercede our own. I am willing to treat with you so long as you remember that, in all circumstances, I will be looking out for TERRA's best interesting and will be abiding by TERRAN law."
"Is that not why the Detente was formed?" A smile placed itself on Casren's face.

"For the betterment of the Night?" Casren rose and extended his hand, "We Vampires have our own ways of taking care of those that violate our creeds and laws. I suspect we'll be in close contact, should the Detente extract any vampires unable to be...tamed. Would you accept deliveries?"

Casren would be in contact with the TNG.
Joran Davrell shook his hand with all the same delightful coldness.

"We would be honored."